Author's Note: This chapter is a little longer, because I did not want my lovely readers to have to sort through fifty chapters that are each a page long….:) This chapter actually introduces a plot, but it doesn't involve any angst—more gentle family humor. I didn't know if I should start hinting at what happens with Susan, but I sort of did anyways—don't be mad!

Summary: What is it like, being pushed back into another world? When the only thing you have left to remember your home is the scars that your child's body carries? Told in different POVs—read and review!

Scars (Chapter 4, Homecomings)

They were home! Aslan be praised, they were home. It was nothing close to Narnia, but it still held that wonderful warm familiarity that Susan so loved. And, now that they were home, perhaps things could be normal once again. They had a second chance—at life, at growing up, and Susan was not going to waste this chance. She was sure that none of her siblings would waste it either. And so she walked quietly on the worn wooden floors of her home, and decided that today she would make tea before breakfast. There was a wonderful recipe by the badgers that Susan had loved to make before the Kings went to battle, and it was especially appropriate today, as their father was coming home. And besides, if she wanted to re-start her adult life, it was best to start now.

As the smell of tea drifted into the bedrooms, Peter awoke to the smell of Narnia. For a moment, he was confused. Why was he lying on such uncomfortable linens? And why did his body feel so…odd? Cautiously, he opened his eyes and saw the ceiling of his bedroom in Finchley. Disappointment swept through him as he carefully sat up. It was just a dream—but then why could he still smell his favorite tea? The answer pierced him like a ray of sunlight. Susan! She was back to normal, back to the gentle, mothering woman they all knew her to be. It was the only answer. He dressed quickly and raced down the stairs with a smile on his face. Edmund, Lucy, and Susan were all sitting in the dining room, talking animatedly about Lucy's favorite dance (from Narnia of course) and what step came next.

"Nay, it was a jump first, and then you threw the snowball!" Edmund was arguing fiercely, but there was a smile in his eyes.

Lucy sighed in exasperation. "Only the fauns jumped—and they always jumped first!"

Peter smiled at the familiar scene. Thank you Aslan.

"By Aslan, Susan, you sure know how to make one feel better!"

All three looked up at the sound of the High King's voice, but Peter waved them back to their conversation. Susan arose, and with a small smile she gently handed Peter a cup of tea accompanied by a small curtsy, and Peter took it with an odd sense of ceremony. He took a deep draught of the fragrant tea and sat unconsciously at the head of the table, Edmund on his right and Susan on his left, with Lucy dancing around the table, trying to imitate a dryad she had once seen. The smell of the lovingly made tea had refreshed everyone, as it had done many times in the past, and for that Peter was inordinately thankful.

A wide-awake Helen poked her head into the dining room. "Goodness children, what are you doing up this early?" she asked good-naturedly. Lucy twirled over to her mother and grasped her hand eagerly, pulling her forward. "Mother, can't you smell? Susan made her tea for us!"

"Indeed, it smells wonderful, though I don't remember giving anyone permission to use the stove-top while I was sleeping."

Susan looked crestfallen, and Peter hastened to reassure his sister and mother. "Susan is perfectly fine, Mother. She spent the entire… summer in the kitchens of the Professor's house. She is one of the best cooks I have ever known."

Susan blushed a bit, and looked at her folded hands resting on her lap.

"Upon my word, you spent an entire summer cooking!" Helen exclaimed, not looking the least bit alarmed.

"Not the entire summer. We did do most things together, and it wasn't always cooking."

Courtiers, assassinations, battles, wars, riding through a brown and green forest and dancing with dryads…

"I'm glad you earned a new skill this summer, my dear." Helen planted a fond kiss on Susan's forehead. "Now, will you fetch me a cup of this tea? It smells wonderful." Susan smiled slightly at the praise, and left the room. Peter quickly stood and allowed his mother to sit at the head of the table. A dark head nodded almost imperceptibly at the move, but the blond-haired king ignored the movement as he sat down.

Susan walked into the room once more, nearly running into Lucy as she spun about the room. Susan wobbled backwards with a small cry, nearly spilling the hot tea on herself.

"Susan!"

She steadied herself with her usual grace, and leveled her cool gaze on the boys. "I am fine, brothers."

Peter, who had been halfway out of his seat, sat down sheepishly, but Edmund continued forward to Lucy. "Careful next time, little sis. Remember—no dancing around anything easily breakable," he said gently.

Lucy blushed fiercely at the not-so subtle reminder of her numerous mishaps in Narnia. She would be practicing a new dance the fauns had made up, and a vase intended for the Terebinthian ambassador would be smashed, the tray of breakfast would end up on the floor, or (one time) a suit of armor would topple over. It wasn't that she was not graceful—she would simply not pay attention to anything else when something absorbed her.

"Come, let's sit."

Within moments, the siblings were chatting as cheerfully as they had before, with the only change being where they sat. Helen watched this new family dynamic with interest but was soon distracted by the cooling tea sitting in front of her. Taking a cautious sip, she froze. A surge of new strength made its way through her limbs. Long lost memories of a too-short childhood scrambled and pushed their way to the front of her mind. She remembered her husband's touch, childish fantasies, and the faint sound of a hymn. Opening her eyes, she felt a light peace settle over her as the stress of the war fell off her shoulders. Her husband was coming home…

Her eldest daughter, still no more than twelve, was gazing at her with the oddest look in her eyes. If Susan had been an adult, Helen would have said that it was a mixture of empathy and satisfaction at a job well done.

But it could not be empathy. Susan was far too young to know what Helen went through every day her husband was gone, and how precious this moment of peace was to her.

"What is in this tea?" Distracting herself.

Knowing smiles were exchanged, and Helen was taken aback. Susan answered. "It's a secret recipe—if I told you, the magic wouldn't work." There was amusement in Susan's voice, but a half-truth hid there. Helen decided to drop the subject.

"Are you excited for you father to come home? I know he can't wait to see you—he's been writing for weeks."

Peter looked rather serious for a moment. "I'm just glad he is home safe."

Again, Helen saw that flash of empathy, only this time it shone in the eyes of all her children, even little Lucy. She was sure she had imagined it though, as the mood grew cheerful again within seconds.

Lucy was grinning infectiously. "We should make him a welcome home sign! And Susan can make a special dinner to go along with the tea and I can teach you my favorite dance and…"

Edmund laughed suddenly, his dark face transforming. "Of course, Lu. We must keep to tradition."

Lucy smiled with pride and began to bounce on her toes. "Then we must start now!"

"Alright!" Peter laughed. Lucy ran over to grasp Peter's hand and pull him to his feet, and within moments the dining room had been successfully vacated, leaving behind only half-empty cups of tea and a rather bemused Helen. It seemed they were indeed excited.

Then came a soft call from upstairs. "No Lu, we cannot use our bedsheets for the sign!" Rather alarmed, Helen decided it would be best to follow her children out.

Please review! I want to know what you liked and if you hate the fact that I am introducing a plot! Review!...And to everyone who has reviewed, you don't count- I love you too much to yell at you!