About two weeks had passes since the children came out of the wardrobe, smelling of pine trees and still speaking like royals. Not a single one of them was happy to be home and Kirke often heard one of them say with a sigh, "Oh how I do wish we were back home in Narnia," or "Summer just isn't as delightful here as it is in Narnia."
Not that he blamed them, of course (Aslan knows that he had his own fair share of adventures there), and he was rather pleased to see that their time in the wondrous land had a very positive effect on their familyship. Peter had stopped giving Edmund such a hard time, Susan had lightened up, and Ed himself didn't mind so much that Peter was the eldest and therefore had the most privileges and responsibilities. In fact the only one who hadn't changed (that much) was Lucy. She was still as optimistic and bright as ever (it was she who tried cheering everyone up, "Isn't it wonderful to have a proper bath again?").
No, the most curious thing that Kirke noticed was the way Peter and Susan were around each other. Oftentimes he would spy them exchanging looks that in another situation he would have called "longing." But every time he asked them whatever was the matter they would sigh and repeat the fact that they missed Narnia more than ever.
So Kirke left them alone, chalking it up to their memories of the adventures they shared. Though if he had been walking by the Narnia Room (the new name for the chamber that housed the wardrobe) one night after everyone had fallen asleep he would have found that it was not only Narnia that was on the two eldest children's minds.
Peter heaved a deep sigh and stepped out of the wardrobe, shutting the door behind him. "Its no good Susan," he whispered heavily. "Its as solid as ever. I don't think Aslan means for us to come back this way... if he wants us to return at all."
Susan's shoulders sagged with defeat and she drew a shaky breath as the tears welled up in her eyes. "Oh Peter, what are we going to do?"
The older boy combed a hand through his hair, struggling with his words -- and feelings. "There's nothing we CAN do. This world isn't like Narnia. They wouldn't understand." He paused and he too seemed to be choking up. "We're going to have to stop this."
A fresh sobbed emitted from Susan's lips and she fought her way into Peter's arms, crying into his nightshirt. "Peter don't say that. Please don't say that. I'll die if I can't have you. I'll die!"
"Stop it Susan," Peter said sharply, pushing his sister away and holding her at arm's length. "You knew that if we ever came back things would change between us. The people of this world... they're just too closed-minded. They won't understand." He tried to say all this as though it didn't mean a trifle to him, but there was a quaver at the back of his voice that betrayed his true feelings.
Susan was sniffling, her arms hanging limply at her sides and her eyes cast to the ground. "You mean to say I'm not allowed to love you anymore."
Peter turned his back on her and after a moment replied thickly, "That's exactly what I mean."
The former queen shook with a fresh wave of silent sobs as Peter walked slowly towards the door, moving as though his body were too heavy for him. But before he had reached for the knob Susan's heartbroken voice whispered, "Can I at least kiss you one last time?"
More slowly than ever, Peter turned and beheld poor Susan's tear stained face. He fought to keep his face straight and stony, but beneath his ribs he could feel his heart being wrenched in two. "No." And then he pulled open the door and was gone.