Title: The Fifth Grace
Length: 539 words
Summary: Susan and Roger get one of the greater shocks of their lives.
Reason to my Rhyme: No, this isn't really connected to Graced of Aslan. If you have read Masks (Which you should, since this whole series is circular ;) ), you would know that Roger and Susan eventually get married, Roger takes Susan's last name, they have four children, and their eldest, Peers, inherits Roger's Grace. This is how they discovered that last fact...

"Tad? Mummy?" Six-year-old Elinor whispered, pale and nervous.

"What's the matter, Lucy Lin?" Roger asked, frowning at the obvious distress on his youngest's face. "Su?" he called into the kitchen.

"Peers is crying, Tad," the girl said, clear brown eyes widening. Susan stood in the doorway, concern creasing her brow. Eleven-year-old Peers hadn't cried in years.

"I'll go up, Su," Roger said, standing and patting Elinor's head. "Mummy will put you to bed, all right, Elinor?"

Susan stepped forward and swept the girl into her arms as they started upstairs. "Can you tell me why Peers is crying?" she asked, turning down the opposite as Roger.

"I don't know, Mummy," she said, shivering in Susan's grip. "He kissed me good night and went all cross-eyed and ran into his room, crying."

Susan bit her lip. "Did he say he hurt anywhere?"

"No. He just started crying."

She carried the girl into her room and started tucking her in. "He didn't have any reason at all?"

"No."

"Susan?"

"Just a moment, Roger. Good night, Elinor, love. Try to sleep."

"Good night, Mummy."

The Gentle Queen quickly strode out of Elinor's room, across the hall, and into Peers'. The poor boy was not just crying, but sobbing hysterically into his helpless father's arms, crying out for his mother every third or fourth sob.

"Hang on. Your mother's coming," Roger said in a pained voice, cradling his son.

"What is it?" Susan asked, crossing the room and sitting next to the two men in her life.

"M-Mum!" Peers burst, launching himself into her arms and hugging her with a grip to rival a python's. "Mum, mum, mum!"

"What is it, sweetheart? What's the matter?"

"He wouldn't tell me anything. Just kept asking for you," Roger said, pain and fear shimmering in his eyes.

"Shhh. Hush, Peers. It's okay. I'm here. I'm here."

"Mum," he said, soaking her shoulder with tears.

"It's okay, baby. What happened? Did you get scared? Are you hurt?"

"Mum…I saw…I saw…"

"What? What did you see?"

"I saw-I saw—saw you. And you were h-hurt, Mum, and th-th-there was b-blood everywhere—" He broke off in another hiccupping, sobbing fit.

Susan and Roger exchanged looks of shock. "When did you see this, Peers?" Roger asked.

"K-kissing E-elinor-r good n-night. It just…was th-there. I got dizzy and it was there."

Roger shot a glare at his wife. "You never told me you were injured."

"I think it was during the Western Patrol," Susan answered, her voice taking on a distinctly royal, militaristic tone. "Eighth year. I was supposed to meet Edmund at the Table and took a dagger to the shoulder in a heated skirmish."

"And you never told me?"

"It wasn't as if it mattered, Dear. It would only worry you. Look, now you're worried, and it was a long time ago."

"You don't have a scar."

"That's the beauty of Fireflower juice."

"You needed the cordial?" Roger grew considerably paler. Peers was torn between wailing again and staring at his parents in horror and confusion.

"None of this is helping our son right now," Susan hissed. "Peers, listen to me. You seem to have inherited a gift of your father's…I'm going to tell you a story..."

I've had lots of SecondGen/Susan muse lately...odd. For those of you wanting to read the Post-Wedding Scene...I shall get that up as soon as I figure out what I did with the handwritten story...