Susan always felt in a different, indefinable way about Peter. When he tells her that he is adopted, that feelings clear up.
Disclaimer; Narnia and all her delightful creatures aren't mine. Exept for a few own characters.
Silent Cobra: thank you :)
Cicero Guided: I'm doing my very best for you
KibumiWong: Oh, just wait, he'll understand alright:D
This one is kinda long :).
VIII. In which a charming Narnian female enters Peters life, and automatically also Susan's.
Susan had thought for quite a while about Peter now. Quite a long while indeed. And now she had finally decided that something had to be done. They needed a talk, all four of them. A nice long talk in which no irritations and secrets would stay unspoken. Even Peter's adoption. She walked into Peter and Edmund their tent, where she found only Edmund and Lucy. They were playing chess. Susan looked at them with a smile on her face. It was a long time ago since she had last seen Edmund and Lucy like this. Just playing games, being nice to each other. She chuckled, and Edmund looked up at her. Immediatly his face darkened and he stood up to leave.
"Ooh come on, Edmund," Susan said when he had passed her, "Don't be such a child. If I hurt you, then talk to me. Give me a chance to earn your forgiveness."
He stood there, with his back towards her, trembling hands clenched to fists. Susan felt the tense rising, as if the sky was filled with thousands of millions little pieces of gunpowder, and Edmund was the one with the lighter. One spark, only one little spark, and the whole sky would ignite. Susan was already backing away from him and Lucy was trying to resist the urge to hide under the table. Finally Edmund's shoulders relaxed and with a heavy sigh he turned around. He looked Susan in her eyes with a look so honest and so clear that it was to Susan relieving as well as terrifying.
"I don't know if I'm able to forget," Edmund said, "But you are my sister, and I love you. Consider yourself forgiven. Just give me some time, I do not yet want to talk about what made you do it."
Susan's face brightened and she rushed forward to give Edmund a hug, but he stopped her before she could touch him.
"Give me some time, Susan," he repeated, and after a moment of silence, Susan nodded. It made her sad that she couldn't even touch her younger brother, but she also knew that it was Edmund's way of forgiving, and that if she wouldn't let him forgive her his own way, she would most likely not be forgiven at all. Edmund sat back down at the table, and Susan sat down next to Lucy. She watched for a moment how Edmund beated Lucy. Although he had one way or another always been the black sheep, he was obviously the most intelligent.
"Actually, I came here to talk," she said after a while. Edmund sighed and was about to protest, but Susan interrupted him hastily, "No, no, not about me, Ed, about Peter."
"Well, yes, I also think we should talk about him," Lucy said immediatly, "He's acting very strange lately and it's upsetting me."
"He is acting a little weird, isn't he?" said Edmund thinking, "What do you suppose is the cause?"
He looked at Susan.
"I don't know, but I want the other Peter back!" Lucy said with a trembling voice. Susan put an arm around her.
"Relax Lucy," said Edmund, his piercing look never leaving Susan's face. Susan felt uncomfortable under his gaze. She knew it was obvious to Edmund that she knew all about it, but she couldn't possibly tell them Peter was adopted. That was his own task.
"I have this horrible feeling, Susan," Lucy said, "Peter isn't going to leave us in some way, is he? He won't! He wouldn't, would he?"
"No, ofcourse he wouldn't," Susan said, trying to convince with Lucy also herself. At that moment Peter stepped into the tent. The other three looked at him. Lucy looked as if she was about to start crying, Susan's look was rather uncomfortable and Edmund's face was solemn. Peter felt all eyes on him. When Lucy started crying, he turned around.
"Oh! Lucy, what's the matter?" he asked sweetly.
"Peter, will you please come and sit with us?" said Susan. It kind of scared Peter, and he tried to laugh it away. But when it stayed silent, and he could read from their faces that they were serious, he started backing away from them.
"Why? There isn't anything wrong, is there?" he asked, grinning out of pure panic. He knew this was the moment he had to tell them about the adoption. He knew he could no longer keep it a secret. But he wasn't ready. He wasn't ready! Panic filled his head, and suddenly he turned around and started walking away.
"Why are you turning away from us?" Peter froze at the sound of Lucy's fragile voice. Peter turned back and looked at Susan. She was watching him with a said and solemn look on her face. She looked so strong and yet so vulnerable and all Peter wanted to do was kiss her. Taste the salt flavour of tears without being sure wether it were his or hers, until there was no breath left to catch. But one way or another he couldn't help feeling as if she had betrayed him again. He felt so trapped that tears started gathering in his eyes. The sight of those three was just heartbreaking, especially with the thought that he could do something about it, and all Peter could do was turning around again.
"Now you're doing it again," said Lucy, and her voice was soft and sad and heartrending, "You're turning your back on us."
Peter did not say anything. He could almost hear Lucy's tears, and he really wanted to sit beside her and sooth her and wipe her tears away. Whisper it was all okay, and that he was sorry for everything he could possibly be sorry for. Why he didn't, he did not know. Or maybe he did. He was adopted.
"Talk to us, Peter," was the plea coming from the little girl. She was crying out loud now and Peter couldn't bear looking at her. So he didn't. Neither did he answer. He stayed silent, and heard how Lucy ran out of the tent, Susan rushing after her. It was silent for a while before Edmund began.
"Why are you doing this to us?" Edmund asked, "Making Lucy cry is not bad, for she cries way too quickly, but you're going too far, Peter."
Peter didn't say a thing. He couldn't bring himself to it. He leaned on the wooden table, with his back at Edmund and just hoped he would walk away and everything would be forgotten by dinnertime. Edmund took a step forward to him.
"Why won't you talk to me? Are you really that stuck up or is there something I don't know?"
Peter squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, trying to wake up from something that wasn't even a dream.
"Susan knows," Edmund said, and Peter's eyes flung open.
"What do you mean?"
"Precisely what I tell you. Susan knows all about that thing that makes you so incredibly not Peter. She knows. Why does she know, Peter?"
"How do you know Susan knows?" Peter asked, afraid that Susan might have said something.
"So there really is something," Edmund concluded with a sigh, "I already started thinking I was imagening things."
"How – do – you – know?"
"I can see it," Edmund said, "In the way she talks to you, about you. The way she acts. It's something in the eyes, even Lucy sees it."
"Lucy?" Peter said. Was it that obvious?
"Yes. She says Susan would never have done something like betraying us. She thinks you told her something upsetting."
Peter's heart almost stopped beating. Could it be – was it his fault? The gaze of his brother burned on Peter's back, and he felt there was a serious question coming up. He was right.
"You can be perfectly honest about this," Edmund said carefully, "I've heard – I mean – are you in love with Susan?"
"Enough!" exclaimed Peter, while jerking around, "I'm adopted!"
The decision of telling Edmund came so sudden, that Peter himself was a little startled about it. But to his painful surprise Edmund didn't get the point.
"I like to think I'm adopted too, now and then, but this isn't the right time and place, Peter! We need to stick together!" he exclaimed, and Peter tried to say it again. But he could in no way bring himself to it, so he said nothing and closed his eyes again while shaking his head.
"We must stick together, Peter," Edmund said softly, "We must keep the gaps between us as small as possible."
Peter moved away from him, avoiding his dark eyes. It was silent for a few seconds, and Edmund didn't know what to do. He felt so powerless. How was he going to get Peter to speak? He had seen the love between Peter and Susan, even before they fully realized it themselves. It was too natural to be wrong, so why wouldn't Peter just tell him? Why was he creating this gap between him and the rest?
"Can't you see it, Peter? Are you blind?" Edmund's whisper tore Peter's heart apart, but he was as silent as the grave.
"Can't you see? You're making us fall apart!" Edmund shouted, voice filled with alarming panic.
"Leave it, Edmund," Lucy stood behind them. Peter nor Edmund had seen her come in, "We've already fallen."
And with these words Edmund threw Peter a look, that made him feel so small. He was frozen in complete horror. A look of despairing calmness, confirming Lucy's words more than anything else. Had the Pevensies really fallen? Those were the words that woke Peter up, opened his eyes, retrieved his common sense. He had to make this better, at any cost. They weren't dead yet, right? Was there nothing left to save?
"I think we should talk," these wise words came from Susan, who had appeared behind Lucy. There wasn't a single resist, not even from Peter. Susan walked up to him, put a hand on his shoulder and looked at him.
"This is the moment, Peter," she said, "Tell them."
Peter walked down the riverbank. The beautiful afternoon was warm and sunny, and yet Peter couldn't really see it. He tried to organize his chaotic brain, but he wasn't very succesful. He thought about just now. A few minutes ago. When he had told Edmund and Lucy. Edmund had smiled and said that he always knew there was something very natural about him and Susan. Then Lucy had hugged him firmly.
"I love you, my dearest brother," she had said. It was an intense and intimite moment, leaving him completely bewildered and confused. Then he had said he needed to take a walk, and left. He also thought about how Susan and he were going to deal with each other. He loved her deeply, they both knew that, but something stopped him from taking the proper actions. Although the whole adoption-thing had taken way more time and thought lately, the betrayal with the Witch had not left his mind, and however happy he was that she was alive, he couldn't forgive her. Never.
Ofcourse Peter knew he was wrong there, in fact he had already started forgiving her. And he also knew that he had had a certain role in the decision. And that he hadn't let her speak, so he didn't even knew what exactly had made her do it. And he also knew that it was he himself who had changed instead of her. And that took him all the way back to his adoption. He sighed.
"It's not her fault," he said to himself, "Susan can't help it. I can't blame her for my own misery. Ooh, what a mess."
A nice breeze blew through his hair, and somewhere in his unconcious, Peter heard a girly chuckling. Another breeze came over him, this time actually speaking to him in the back of his mind. Yes, it's a mess, isn't it? The breezes were warm, yet Peter couldn't stop shivering. It was like someone was watching him. He looked behind him, almost getting paranoid with his own thoughts. Another gust of wind. Up here! and a chuckle. He looked at the sky for a while, but when he saw nothing he lowered his gaze, until it dropped on one of the trees. It was a very big ash tree, standing out on the others. He took a couple of steps towards it. There was something special about this tree. He took another couple of steps, and now stood closely in front of it. There was a pretty fresh cut in the trunk. He looked at it very closely, and then suddenly he noticed the pair of brown eyes staring back at him. Peter quickly moved away from the tree, almost falling over. Another gust of wind, which seemed to come from the tree; you afraid?
"No," Peter said, and he walked back. The pair of eyes had not moved. Intrigued by this strange tree, Peter moved in as closely as he could. He was now so close that his nose almost touched the trunk.
"Hey," he said softly, as if he was afraid to disturb it, "Who are you?"
With a blink the eyes disappeared. Then suddenly an arm stretched out, grabbed Peter's shirt and with a loud yell Peter was pulled into the tree. He was yelling and shouting, and completely out of his mind.
"What are you doing! Who are you?"
He stood obviously in the tree (in fact it was the same tree as Susan had been in, and he was also with the same person who had saved Susan, but he didn't know that ofcourse), together with a female. She was shorter than him, and she wore darkgreen clothes. Her halflong brown hair was loosely tied together with a string, and on her back hung a quiver with a bow. Attached to her belt there hung a dagger.
"Hey mate," she said. She chuckled, and Peter recognized it.
"Let me OUT!" Peter shouted in panic. He was in huge denial, but actually he was rather claustrophobic.
"Okay," she said and she shoved him backwards. He tumbled on his back in the grass, gasping for breath and eyes widened with start. When he saw the female was nowhere around, he allowed himself to relax.
"Oh my god," he said to himself, "That was freaky."
There was a gust of wind, bearing a few leaves coming together to a figureand suddenly she was there again.
"Yeah, wow, you must be scarred for life," she said in a sarcastic voice.
"Who are you?" Peter asked, gasping for breath.
"I'm Fae," she said, "Who are you?"
Peter stood up again.
"I – I'm Peter," he answered, and he took a good look at her.
"And what are you?" she asked smiling, "Another human?"
"Well, yes. Aren't you?" Peter asked in return, but then mentally slapped himself. Note to self; he thought, no humans in Narnia!
"Err – no," Fae said, "I'm a dryade."
Peter smiled interested.
"An elf?"
"A nymph," she said, "A treespirit, to be more exact."
"Cool," Peter said, "I've never seen a treespirit before."
"Aah, well, I wish I could say I never saw a human before, but I can't," she smiled, "I saw two She-Humans this morning."
"Shumans?" Peter asked and he made a face.
"Yeah," replied Fae, "Females, you know."
"Oh! Really?" Peter said, "That must've been Susan and Lucy."
"Susan and Lucy.. yes. Pretty strange. One minute you've never seen a human before, and next whole Narnia is swarmed with them," Fae snickered, "Ah well. Where are you headed?"
"Oh – oh yes. Err – no, I wasn't really going somewhere," Peter said, "Just taking a walk."
"Aah, great," Fae said, "Well, I will no longer bother you then."
She walked back to the tree. Peter didn't want her to go. He wanted to know more about her.
"Err, Fae?"
She turned around and smiled.
"Hmm?"
"Do you – err," Peter began, "Would you like to – err..."
"I would love to!" Fae said and she smiled widely. Then she walked back to him and they started walking together.
"Okay, so tell me, are you here to fulfill the prophecy?" Fae asked, "Cause I am getting confused with all these humans."
"I guess," Peter said, "I'm not sure."
"But Aslan is here, right? And Father Christmas," she said, "And you can obviously see" (she made a broad gesture towards the trees and the grass and the river) "that the Witch's power is already failing. How can you not be sure?"
"I suppose I'm not really sure about anything right now," Peter said, and it fell silent. Suddenly there was a loud splash and on the riverbank then there sat a young lady. Her skin was as white as the snow, and her hair fell silvery on her shoulders.
"Annaya," said Fae with a smile.
"Fae," replied Annaya.
"This is Annaya, Peter," Fae said, "She's a Naiad."
"Pleased to meet you," Peter said, and he offered her his hand. She looked at it with an amused smile slumbering on her lips, and Peter wondered if there was something wrong.
"What is it?" he asked insecurely. Annaya looked at him.
"Why are you doing that?" she asked.
"Oh," Peter pulled back his arm, "Well, in my world people shake hands when they meet eachother. It's polite."
"Oh, I'm sorry then," Annaya said, and she threw Fae a look as if to say 'he is crazy'. Peter rolled his eyes.
"I must go," Annaya then said, and she yawned, "I'll speak to you later, Fae. Bye – Peter."
"Bye," Peter and Fae said and they continued their walk.
"I'm sorry about her," Fae said, "She can be somewhat tactless once and a while. She's young, only 3 years old. But she's really very nice when you know her."
"3?" Peter said, "I thought she was around 16."
"16? Are you serious? They do think of her older than she is, but 16 is exaggerated," Fae said with a laugh. Peter frowned puzzled.
"How old are you, then?"
"Four," she said.
"What? Okay, I'm lost now," Peter said, "You are four years old? I thought you were as old as my brother!"
"How old is your brother?"
"16!"
"Really?" Fae asked, "Wow. And you are? Six? Maybe 7?"
"I'm eightteen," Peter said, and Fae raised an eyebrow.
"Eightteen?" she repeated, "Wow, you really do look a lot younger than you are. Or – ofcourse!"
She slapped her forehead and laughed.
"What?" Peter asked confused. Fae looked at him.
"Nymphs have a completely different growingprocess," she explained, "We grow in our first year the same as a normal creature would grow in 12 years. After that we just go steady year by year like anyone else. So if you count in normal years that would mean I'm..." she paused a few seconds, "...sixteen."
"Ah!" said Peter, "So you are in fact as old as my brother."
"How funny," Fae chuckled.
"But I can now understand why you were so confused just now," Peter said and he laughed, "When I'm eightteen in your years, I would be 29 in my own."
"Yeah, so that would be a bit much," Fae said smiling. They walked for an hour until Peter saw that they had walked back to the camp without noticing.
"Look, we're back," he said. Fae smiled broadly.
"Let's go see Aslan!" she said enthusiastically.
"I'm not sure he –" Peter started, but Fae wasn't listening. What he had wanted to say, was that he wasn't sure if Aslan had the time to see anyone else besides generals and admirals and all those important things. But when they came to Aslan's tent, he was happy he didn't say it out loud.
"Aslan," Fae said with a broad smile when she had walked in and saw him. Aslan turned around.
"General! What a pleasure to see you again," he said, "How have you been?"
"Great, Aslan. I'm just a little confused," she replied, "I have seen three humans today! Since when are there humans in Narnia?"
"There are only four, my dearest dryade," Aslan said snickering, "This is Peter."
"Yes, I know," said Fae, and she smiled at Peter. Peter was surprised when he found himself shivering at it, "But this morning I met two she-humans. Me and a couple of Niondryades saved them from Jadis. The big one was being bullied around by the witch, and the little one was crawling out of the river."
"The river?" said Aslan, at the same time as Peter exclaimed "What!".
"What, is something wrong?" asked Fae, raising an eyebrow, "Should I have let them?"
"My dearest general, you and the Nions should be decorated for this!"
"Really?" Fae said amused, "Could you give me a higher rank in my army?"
"Your WHAT?" Peter's jaw dropped, but he was ignored.
"You already have the highest rank," Aslan replied to Fae, his voice rather stern as if they had been through it before. Fae looked disappointed.
"Oh, yeah," she said, as if she just reminded it, "Ah well, too bad," she shrugged.
"What?" Peter repeated.
"What what?" Fae said confused.
"You have an army?" Peter said stunned.
"Err – yeah," said Fae, not directly looking him in his eyes as if she was ashamed of it.
"And you saved Susan?" Peter added even more stunned.
"The big one? Yes, I pulled her into the same tree as you," Fae said somewhat irritated at the memory, "She was all weird and she just wouldn't shut up. It was pretty annoying."
"Thank you," he said sincerely, and he felt he meant it with his whole entity.
"At your service, your Majesty," Fae smiled and slightly bowed her head.
"General," Aslan said, and the attention was with him again, "I want tonight a great feast and a dance. I want you to make everything ready."
Fae's face brightened like the sun rose again, and her smile was wider than ever. She obviously loved those kind of things.
"Yes sir! I'll go to work immediatly and send Dascha when all is ready," she said enthousiastically, "Bye Peter!"
"Bye," he replied smiling. Then she was gone with a gust of wind, and Peter wasn't sure wether she had walked out of the tent or just disappeared. He turned to Aslan.
"She has an army," he sighed in awe, "And she's sixteen."
"She has led her army since she was twelve," Aslan said with a grin, "I know what you're thinking, Son of Adam."
"What am I thinking?"
"How can someone so young lead an army?"
Peter smiled.
"She's enchanting and smart," he said, "and she's strong. I can see how she does it. But why? Is it normal here?"
"It depends on what you call normal, Son of Adam," said Aslan, "There are many people who have led armies so early. Some even younger than Fae. But Fae herself is not normal, no."
"What is so special about her, then?" Peter asked.
"Haven't you noticed?" Aslan asked as a reply. Peter fell silent and thought. Yes he had indeed noticed that there was something about her.
"I thought it was just because she's a dryade," he said.
"Yes, that is ofcourse true," Aslan said, "But you will see if you meet other dryades, that there is something different."
"What is it?" Peter asked in a slightly whiney voice.
"You will see, Son of Adam," Aslan said, and Peter knew that was the end of the conversation.
The party was great. There was a group of fauns playing rather wild music on strange stringed instruments and drums and flutes. Dryades and Naiads and fauns were dancing, just as Lucy and Peter having the time of their lives with mr Tumnus and Fae. Edmund was sitting at the drinkstable getting more and more sociable, while the wine was getting less and less, and then you got Susan. Susan wasn't at all having fun. She was sitting at a chair at the side of the dancefloor, sulking and pretending not to look at Peter. He hadn't given her any of his attention at all, and she was pretty damn offended. Suddenly the young dryade called Dascha sat down next to her, and pushed a little glass of faunwhiskey in her hand.
"You look like you need it," she said, "Why aren't you dancing?"
Susan grumbled, and continued not looking at Peter. Dascha followed her gaze.
"Aah! Sulking about that guy with Fae over there," she said, " Well, I can be clear about that."
Susan looked at her.
"What do you mean?" she asked annoyed, yet a little curious.
"He's not going to come with you," Dascha said simply, "Or at least not until the end of the party, which has not nearly ended. And I can tell you this," she chuckled, "even then he'll choose her bed over yours."
With those words she left Susan. They had definately hurt her, they had gone deeper than she would've wanted to allow them to. But before she even had the chance to feel sorry for herself, Edmund sat, well – more like fell down next to her on the chair that Dascha just left. He layed an arm around her, and said in a drunken voice, "Susan, I forgive you, for everything. Yeah. You're my sister."
"I know, Ed," said Susan with a mocking smile (although she knew that was out of place, looking at the fact that she was being forgiven for the stupidest thing she had ever done in her entire life. Edmund was drunk, but still.).
"Yes? Okay?" Edmund said, almost falling off his chair, "You're my sister, Sue."
"Yes, Ed," said Susan. She drank the faunwhiskey she had in her hand in one gulp and then stood up, helping Edmund to his feet, "I know. Come on, I'll get you back."
The next morning was the first thing Susan noticed, that Peter's bed was empty. She walked over to it, and touched the cold matress. He hadn't come home last night.
"This is the end," Susan said to herself, as she realized Dascha had been right last night, "I'm never going to be with him."
The Peter & Fae thing had not escaped Edmund's noticing either. When Susan walked out, he sat at the table in the open air, having breakfast. He was obviously sulking.
"Goodmorning," Susan said, and she sat down at the opposite of her younger brother.
"You think so?" Edmund grumbled.
"No," Susan replied in a whiney voice, finding herself unable to keep a straight face. Edmund reached her a glass of juice, and threw her a look of sympathy. Susan looked at his rather pale face.
"Are you alright?" she asked worried, "You look awful."
"I'm okay," Edmund said, not very convincing, "Nothing wrong."
"Edmund!" Susan said very amused, "You don't have to try and hide it from me; I dragged you all the way back last night."
"What do you mean?" Edmund asked innocent.
"All the wine was gone,"
"What wine?"
"Edmund!"
"Ooh, please, woman! Let me have some fun!" Edmund said and Susan laughed. Then it fell silent again, and they were both thinking about Peter and Fae.
"Peter always gets the beautiful girls," Edmund said after a while, "Damnit."
"Don't sulk too much about this one, Ed, she isn't even a real girl," Susan said.
Edmund threw her a very puzzled look.
"What do you mean?"
Susan sat back with a sigh and managed to smile, although it was a little wry.
"She is a tree."