Susan sat fully dressed on the corner of the bed, waiting for Peter to arrive. She smoothed out the dress she was wearing. It wasn't anything new or special, just the same green gown Lucy's scissors had made. She'd considered making a new gown but decided not to, knowing she would die of embarrassment if more velvet cloth came out of it. She couldn't imagine walking around the castle in the dead of night decked out in ballroom attire. The very thought made her face feel hot and her cheeks turn scarlet.

She wondered what was going to happen. What would they talk about? Just why did she feel so nervous? Would he come on time or be fashionably late? Why did he want to take this walk in the first place? Wasn't it rather random? He had said he'd rather walk with her as a human than a bear, did that mean she would actually see what he looked like? Or maybe not? But wasn't such a large castle with so many servants bound to have good lighting so that no one got lost at night?

Remembering his panic when she'd tried to light a fire that first night, she was rather surprised that he would be willing to enter her chamber when the fireplace was so brightly lit, crackling softly sending sweet lovely warmth through the whole room.

The door opened and indeed there was a young king standing there. And yes, Susan could see his face clearly in the fire's glow. It was familiar. Too familiar. It wasn't the white bear king at all. It was only Edmund, walking in without even bothering to knock or greet her. He went to the fire and put it out.

"Have you got any lit candles in this room?" Edmund asked her.

"W-w-what?" Susan blurted out, taken aback by the stern, almost frightened, tone he spoke to her with.

He repeated himself even more sternly this time not because he was cross but because of he was concerned, still unsure if this was a good idea. He didn't think his brother should toy with fate so to speak. Why should Peter so calmly risk losing what could be his only chance to be freed from his enchantment for ever? Well, risk or not, as far as it depended on Edmund, nothing bad would happen.

"Yes," Susan told him, reaching for the little candle in the copper holder on her nightstand. "Right here."

"Give me that," Edmund ordered a bit too sharply as he reached out for the holder.

"Here, take it." Susan didn't know what he was so worked up about. If he wanted the candle so badly, he could have taken it at any time. After all, this was his castle more than it was hers. She handed it to him willingly.

Edmund took it and carried it out of the room.

From behind the closed doors, Susan heard Peter's voice say, "Is that the only lit candle in there?"

"Yes," Edmund's voice answered. There was the sound of blowing. "And now it's out."

Satisfied, the high king opened the chamber doors and walked it. The room was nearly pitch black and just like the nights before, all Susan could see of him was his faint outline. His face was still a perfect blank, thanks to the dark shadows from the corner in which he stood.

"Hullo," he said politely.

"Hullo," Susan answered back, standing up and following him out the door, feeling curiously shy all of a sudden.

They wandered down the dark hallways that never got even a little lighter. Not a single candle holder contained a flame. No fireplaces were lit. No lamps burned. Susan felt a sudden longing for the comfort of one of her father's old electric torches. She'd brought one with her to the professor's house but of course hadn't taken it with her into the wardrobe.

Just the sort of thing that would have come in handy here too, Susan thought mournfully to herself, at this point I'd be glad even for one single match if it could be guaranteed to light.

Susan wasn't scared of the dark. She was much too practical and sensible for that. Even at the young tender age years and years ago when her parents had expected her to fear her lightless bedroom at night, she wasn't afraid. But here in this strange place her sensibleness told her that any sort of creature from a harmless talking rabbit to a hungry and dangerous minotaur might be waiting in the dark pathways. She was glad Peter was there with her. Even though she found him to be nothing but a guilt tripping bear in the day and a pest at night, she was pleased to have him with her now. No one in that castle would be likely to just jump out at their high king and that kept most of her fears quietly at bay.

Suddenly a door opened and even though no outside light entered, the feel of cool outdoor night air gently tapped them in the faces. Susan knew they must be out in the royal gardens now. But it was still so dark! What was wrong with this place?

"Why is it so dark?" Susan finally gave in and flat out asked him.

"No moon tonight," Peter told her. "It's one of those extended eclipse things that happens every twenty years or so."

"So, this is nice." Susan hated herself for not thinking of anything else to say.

"Yes, fresh air is good." Peter came up with. Fresh air is good? What the heck is that? What was I thinking? Where's my kingly wit and grace when I need it?

"I've noticed the apples on the trees here aren't like the silver ones in the washroom and in the windows." Susan figured now might be a good time to ask about some things. It was better to sound nosy than to sound stupid, she decided.

It was true that the apples weren't the same in the garden. You didn't even have to see then to figure that out. Just the smell wasn't quite the same. Yet, Peter felt a tad nervous as if she had somehow been able to see through the darkness and seen them -maybe even seen him. No, anyone might have seen the apples in the day from the window of her chamber. It wasn't anything to worry about. It would be best just to give her a straight answer on that one.

"That's because the silver apples come from the tree Aslan called up," Peter explained. "But it's been a little weaker as of late. All it needs is one good storm to knock it over." He shuddered at the thought.

"What's so important about them?" Susan wanted to know. "I mean, they're pretty, but what's their purpose?"

"The White Witch hates them," Peter told her. "She ate one once and has hated them ever since. The smell makes her sick."

"So is that why you put apple juice in the water?" Susan asked. "To keep her away?"

Peter shrugged his shoulders and sighed, "Better safe than sorry."

"I see," Susan said quietly.

"I can't wait until I'm freed from being a bear." Peter sighed, his voice lonely and distant sounding.

"When will that be?" Susan asked him.

"It depends on a lot of things," Peter said, gently reaching out and touching her arm in a compassionate way. "I can't explain it to you now, but someday -Aslan willing- you'll be able to know and understand."

Now Susan was glad of the dark, for it meant he couldn't see her blush. She wasn't sure why she was blushing. It wasn't as if there was any reason for it, but all the same, she could feel her cheeks flushing and hated to think of how unbecoming it would look if not for the dark night. He stopped touching her and Susan felt her cheeks return to normal.

"Some day," Peter said wistfully, "I'm going to be able to go out riding with Lu and Ed mid-afternoon, on my own horse instead of running beside them on all four paws. There's nothing wrong with being a bear, I know several nice talking bears. I'm not ashamed of it. There's nothing wrong with being a bear, expect that is, if you aren't really one."

Susan felt sorry for him. He was deeper than she gave him credit for. There was so much in life he had probably missed out on. There were probably a hundred things he longed to do.

"How long have you been a polar bear during the day?" She asked, as they walked around back into what she assumed was indoors because the air wasn't as cold and the ground felt different under her feet. More like wood and pile, less like earth.

"Since I was a baby." Peter said, almost sullenly. "Jadis heard that I was to be a great high king and that I would bring about her end...or something like that...I'm not really sure what it was exactly. Some sort of promise or prophecy from Aslan. A blessing, mother used to call it."

They turned a corner and Susan wondered what part of the castle they were in. Because she could barely see anything due to lack of light, she couldn't tell if it was somewhere she had been before or not.

"Anyway," Peter went on, "Jadis stormed the castle and cursed me into being a white bear half the time. Father once told me that mother slapped her across the face. What I wouldn't give to have been old enough to remember seeing that!"

Susan smiled and let out a polite chuckle. She felt her feet going up a staircase now. She reached for a place where she assumed a railing would be. There wasn't one. There was a sickly moment of almost falling before Peter caught her by the waist and helped her to her feet.

"Careful, there's no railing there." He stated what was now obvious.

Susan didn't answer him. She was too busy trying to will herself not to blush again.

Up ahead of them, unknown to Peter, there was a candle left burning. One of the older servants, a faun who was hard of hearing. thought he had been told to, 'Please leave any candles in the corridor' when really the order had been, 'please do not leave any candles in the corridors."

Thinking he was following the command of the king, the poor faun had left his candle on one of the lower lamp stands in the corridor that Susan and Peter were now approaching.

For a moment Susan blinked in the twinkling light, trying to adjust her eyes to the sudden brightness after being in the dark for so long.

Peter gaped at the candle in panicked disbelief. This wasn't happening! He had been careful to tell all of the servants to keep all of the passageways as dark as possible. Edmund had been right. He'd taken a foolish risk and would now pay the price. If she saw him...no, he wouldn't let that happen. Not when there was something he could do to stop it.

As soon as Susan turned to look at him, He covered his face with his hands and twisted his neck away from her. All she saw of him was the back of his neck, some of his hair, and part of an earlobe.

She wondered why he'd done that. What was wrong? Why didn't he want to be seen? "Peter, are you alright?"

His voice came back strong and determined. "I will be."

Still facing away from her, he let go of his face with one hand having to rely on only the one to keep it hidden. He put his hand right on the wick of the candle. It put out the light, but it also left a thick bubbling burn in the center of his palm.

He let out a sharp cry of pain before taking a deep breath, regaining composure, and saying, "Now I'm alright."

"What was that about?" Susan gasped, completely in shock over what she had witnessed.

"Haven't you guessed?" Peter said softly, trying not to think about how much his hand hurt. He would just run it under some cold water later, Lucy would probably make a fuss and bandage it, everything would be fine. And best of all, he wouldn't have lost his chance to be freed from the White Witch's spell. "I can't let you see my human face."

So was that what Maplebella had been referring to? Susan wondered. Out loud she said, "Why not?"

Peter let out a groan. "I can't tell you. But Susan, you have to trust me, please. Something terrible will happen if you should ever look upon my human face."

She gaped at him in the darkness wondering what to say. What could she possibly say to that? What sort of 'terrible' did he mean? Did he mean humorous terrible? Or terrible terrible? He couldn't have meant funny terrible, he was too worked up for that.

"Let's go back," Peter said dejectedly. This walk was officially over. Supposing there were other lit candles further in, even though she now knew she wasn't to look at his face when he was in his human form, how could she help seeing him accidentally if they should walk passed a burning lamp? No, it was far too risky.

"Back to the bed chamber?" Susan asked to be sure.

"Yes," Peter said, turning around causing his boots to make a slight squeak on the tiles.

"Alright then," Susan said quietly.

They didn't say another word to each other until they'd returned to the bedchamber.

Peter let out a yawn, took off his boots, changed out of his tunic and into the white night-shirt, and climbed into his side of the bed. "Good night, Susan."

"Good night, Peter." Susan decided that she'd rather sleep in her clothes than change with him in the room. It didn't matter that it was probably too dark for him to see anything. She simply could not -would not- take off her clothes with him there. If she'd been less worn out from trying to understand what was really going on in Cair Paravel, she might have thought to slip into the wardrobe and change there. As it was, the thought didn't cross her mind and the only thing she changed out of was her shoes.

She lay perfectly still, flat on her back in the bed, staring up at a teeny rip in the canopy through which she could see a little bit of the ceiling.

A while later, she heard Peter say something. She was surprised that he was still up. She'd thought he'd fallen asleep hours ago.

"No more tea for me, thanks," Peter's muffled voice slurred.

"What was that?" Susan asked him.

"Edmund, put it away. You're going to poke someone's eye out with that thing." He moaned. "No Lucy, you cannot play with my sword, put it back where you found it."

He talks in his sleep! Susan realized, feeling slightly amused. Apparently, he only did this sometimes because he hadn't said a word in his sleep in the past two nights.

He prattled on for a few moments about measurements for the marble staircase in the east wing of the castle before rolling over, letting out a groan and proceeding to spend the rest of the night in silence.

Susan tried not to laugh. It really wasn't all that funny. Oh who was she kidding? It was downright hilarious!

And to think, Susan thought to herself, he finds my snoring disturbing!

Shortly before morning, Peter woke up, quietly left the bed chamber, and went into the throne room.

Edmund was waiting for him there. "How did it go?"

"We had a close call, but it's alright," Peter told him, lifting up his hand to show him the burn.

Edmund looked up at his brother. His hair was white instead of blond. Which meant that in less than an hour the sun would come up and he would turn back into a white bear. "You should have been more careful."

"I know," Peter agreed with a nod.

"Alright, let's see if we can do something about your hand before it turns into a paw," Edmund said as they walked out of the throne room side by side.

"Thanks, Ed."

"Don't mention it."

AN: PLEASE REVIEW, PLEASE REVIEW, PLEASE REIVEW (I've put it three times for emphasis). PLEASE REVIEW (Make that four times. LOL)