Well guys, here it is! I'm slightly nervous about this chapter. I'm not sure if it will ever be perfect in my eyes, but I hope that all of you enjoy it. I will caution you, their is sex in this chapter. It's not vulgar or explicit, but it is there. Please let me know what you think! I can't believe there is only one chapter left :(

Chapter 24

Fumbling Towards Ecstasy

All the fear has left me now
I'm not frightened anymore
It's my heart that pounds beneath my flesh
It's my mouth that pushes out this breath

And if I shed a tear I won't cage it
I won't fear love
And if I feel a rage I won't deny it
I won't fear love

-Fumbling Towards Ecstasy, Sarah McLachlan

The smile faded from Cara's face the moment her eyes caught sight of Peter. He sat alone and dejected in the corner of the Great Hall. His golden hair was disheveled and his normally vibrant blue eyes seemed vacant against the celebration that surrounded him.

Cara's worried gaze found his. She offered him a hesitant smile, the warmth within it an attempt to elicit some happiness from Peter. The reaction she received was deeper sadness; utter misery that flowed across the moving, bliss filled room and wrapped itself harshly around Cara's heart. Dread consumed her, for she knew that this was not a shallow grief, but a debilitating sorrow that only came from changes far beyond their control.

Cara's first thought was of death.

She moved instantly, her feet fumbling forward without a thought beyond reaching Peter and finding some semblance of reassurance in his touch. His eyes stayed locked with hers as she pushed herself through the crowd, the music and movement nothing more than a blur to both of them. Cara crumbled to her knees when she reached Peter, her delicate hands grasping is legs as she pressed herself closely to his body.

Peter made no move to hold her. Instead he watched her with glossy eyes, his shoulders slumping even more as Cara begged him for an explanation. "Tell me," she whispered. "Tell me what happened."

Absentmindedly, Peter's fingers trailed along Cara's arms, his featherlike touch sending shivers over her body. Finally his hands wrapped tightly around her forearms, and in one swift motion Cara found herself pulled onto Peter's lap as his mouth covered hers. The kiss was desperate. Cara could feel Peter's heart drumming under her fingertips as his arms pulled her body flush against his. His tongue melded with hers as she kissed him back with near has much fever, both attempting to lose their fears within each other.

Slowly Peter pulled away, his lips lingering on Cara's as he continued to place soft kisses against his skin. "Peter," Cara breathed as he buried his golden head between her neck and shoulder, his warm breath moistening her skin. "You're scaring me."

Peter sighed; a sound of resignation. Cara felt Peter's body sag heavily against hers before he pulled completely away. "Come," Peter said as he helped Cara from his lap and climbed to his feet. She obeyed, her fingers clinging to his as they weaved their way between the celebration and out of the Great Hall. Cara paid little attention as Peter led her up stairs and down corridors, her mind too preoccupied with varying painful scenarios to focus on anything beyond her own morbid thoughts.

It wasn't until the sound of a massive door clicking open echoed around the hall that Cara's mind came to. They now stood at the threshold of a massive, ornate room, which Cara could only guess was Peter's courters. He ushered her inside before closing the door softly behind him.

"Sit." Peter gestured to a small bench in the center of the room. Cara looked at the piece of furniture with apprehension. "Please."

Peter watched as Cara covered the ground in a few timid steps and eased herself into a sitting position. He regarded her for a moment. The fear in her eyes was as blatant as the tremble that her rigid body was attempting to mask. With an agonizing sigh, Peter tore his eyes away, and ran his fingers through his already ragged hair.

Even looking at her hurt.

Fighting the clenching in his chest, Peter prayed for a way to not tell her; a way to not ruin the last moments that they would ever have together with the truth of what tomorrow would bring. He wanted to lose himself in their fantasies of the future—adventures, marriage, children—he wanted to return to the night before when the stars glowed above them, when the only worry in his mind was whether or not to stop. Suddenly Peter's mind filled with impossible scenarios of escape—running, hiding away beyond the mountains of Archenland and sand dunes of Calormen in a land too distant and too wild to ever be found.

"Peter, please just te—"

"I'm leaving."

Peter immediately diverted his gaze from Cara's. He had hoped to tell her with more compassion, but the words escaped from his lips before he could constrain them. Perhaps his subconscious knew that disguising the truth would only cause them both more pain.

"Leaving?" Cara questioned after a long moment of silence. She hadn't expected that response. Death, war, treachery, and a hundred other horrible adjectives had consumed her mind over the past few minutes, but Peter was always beside her as each individual possibility flicked past. Her mind couldn't even comprehend leaving. "Wh—here?"

"Home." Peter walked slowly to his chamber's balcony and looked mournfully across the landscape below. He could see miles of rolling, grass covered hills congested with dense patches of dark trees, and the occasional gleam of moving water as it reflected the light of the moon. Was this not his home? Was Narnia not the world that he truly belonged to?

"I don't understand," Cara said softly. Peter didn't understand either. Not completely.

With a sigh Peter returned his attention to Cara. She sat erect and still on the bench, her fingers clenched together in her lap, and her eyes brimming with fear and filled with confusion. "Tomorrow we—my siblings and I," Peter stuttered out, "—are returning to where we came from."

"Like before?" Cara questioned. She felt slightly better. They had returned before.

Peter nodded his head in response. "When will you return?" she continued in a small voice. "I certainly hope it's not longer than a few hundred years. I don't think turning back to stone will be good for my complexion." Peter winced at Cara's attempted humor, her weak laugh chipping away at his already faltering composure.

"Susan and I aren't coming back."

Cara's laugh immediately stopped, and even though the sound of it had pained Peter, he realized that utter silence was far worse. Cara inhaled a sharp breath before rising from the bench and turning her back to Peter. "Am I going with you?" she asked in a choked whisper. The air became tense as Cara awaited Peter's reply, her body aching with tension as she attempted to keep her composure. Not an hour ago her entire life had made sense. Now it seemed torn. Purposeless. Had Aslan lied to her those years ago?

"No."

The word seemed as absolute to Peter as it was to Cara. He was leaving and never coming back. There was no adventure to the Lone Islands; no marriage; no children; no future of any kind. All that remained were the dwindling hours that fell between the present darkness and the blinding light of the morning.

Cara's eyes closed, a few tears escaping and weaving their way down her cheeks. She knew Peter was awaiting a response, but what could she say? Safe journey? Please write? Even now her sarcastic personality was mocking her own pain.

"Edmund and Lucy shall return someday," Peter added once the silence became too heavy to bear. Cara's only reaction was a choked sob, her shoulders becoming tight as she fought to contain the building pressure in her chest.

Unable to cope with her pain, Peter reached for Cara instantly, his fingers gripping her waist and turning her body towards his in one swift motion. Cara lost herself against Peter's chest. Her fingers clung tightly to his tunic as she hid her face, the feel of Peter's arms around her making it nearly impossible to contain the tears for any longer.

"I love you." Peter's voice was confident, yet strained, the emotions building within him as difficult to control as Cara's. "No matter what world I live in; no matter how far apart we may be in time or age or distance, I love you." Cara's control crumbled away at Peter's confession, her body shaking with ragged breaths and unconstrained sobs. Peter held her tighter, both for her support and his own.

"I don't understand," Cara choked out as she pulled her head away from Peter's chest.

"Susan and I have gotten too old," Peter attempted to explain.

"No!" Cara shouted as she pushed herself from Peter's grasp and looked at him with red, frantic eyes. "He told me when I was crowned High Queen that my status had a purpose—a meaning—th—that I was your equal…" Cara's voice dropped off at the end of her rant, her eyes transforming from wild to crestfallen.

Hearing aloud what she had so ardently believed made all of her previous convictions seem childish. Aslan never alleged that Cara was meant to be anything more than an aid to the High King, and even in the time before she met him, the thought of love had never crossed her mind. It wasn't until she became besotted with Peter that she began to manipulate Aslan's words into something more. She had created a fairytale around their existence; a love that knew no bounds; a love that meant connected souls and constant happiness; a love that didn't exist.

Peter seemed to follow Cara's train of thought, for his eyes fell as hers did, both realizing at the same moment that their love was not special, not protected by some fantastical force. "I've been so stupid," Cara said softly as she averted her gaze from Peter's.

"No," Peter responded. "I won't accept that." Cara returned her eyes to Peter immediately. She looked skeptical. "I love you," Peter said with conviction. "Nothing can change that." He looked so determined that Cara almost believed him.

Almost.

"Just like nothing can change the fact that you're leaving and never coming back." Cara's voice cracked as another wave of tears enveloped her. She turned away from Peter, outwardly ashamed of her tears now that her foolishness was realized.

Peter stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her from behind, his lips brushing against the tender skin at the nape of her neck. "How much longer do we have?" Cara asked softly.

"Until morning."

Hours. All they had were hours.

Cara knew then what she wanted. Slowly, she pulled away from Peter's grasp and turned to look at him.

Peter watched with red rimmed eyes as Cara returned her body to his and rested her forehead against his shoulder. After a moment, Cara's head turned until her lips came into contact with the warmth of Peter's skin. Cara could feel Peter's pulse quicken under her tongue as she placed open-mouthed kisses across his neck, her tear-soaked cheek rubbing lightly against his jaw. Peter sighed, his fingers grasping hold of Cara's arms. He pulled her closer, his breathing becoming ragged as Cara continued to taste him.

"Make me forget, Peter," Cara whispered into his neck. "I need to forget." Peter pushed Cara back slightly, his fingers leaving her arms to trail across her face and into her hair. Peter kissed Cara softly before grazing his lips along her jaw, then down her neck, and across her collarbone.

Cara arched into him, her hair falling completely over her back as she exposed as much skin to Peter as her gown allowed. Her tears had all but abated. Lone droplets formed when she closed her eyes, but they no longer flowed freely. She needed this. They both needed this.

Peter moaned against Cara's skin, the noise eliciting a tremor that originated in her abdomen and spread outward. She forced herself even closer to Peter's body, her heart soaring when he moaned again. Peter's fingers left Cara's hair to travel along the length of her body. He gripped her hips as his tongue dipped low on her chest. Cara gasped at the sensation, her moans growing as Peter continued to trail his lips across the tops of her breasts.

Somewhere in the back of Peter's mind a small voice told him to stop. His body was already tense and ready and wanting nothing more than to rip Cara's gown from her body and show her how much he wished he wasn't leaving; how much he wished he could promise her forever. Steadily the voice became louder, and with reluctance Peter pulled his lips away from Cara's chest and rested his forehead against hers.

Both were breathing sporadically; warm, moist, sweet breaths that brought them more comfort than Aslan's breath ever could. They stood like that for a long moment, their heads together, and their arms wrapped loosely around each other. Finally, Cara looked to Peter, her dark eyes once again brimming with tears. Peter's strength instantly crumbled away. The tightness in his chest finally surpassing the point that he could control, and after one last agonizing breath, his tears began to fall.

He cried openly; consistent, shallow breaths pushed past his parted lips as his tears zigzagged down his cheeks and onto Cara's chest. "Pe—ter," Cara whispered, her tears moving from a steady flow to a shaky sob. He kissed her then. It was haphazard and sloppy, both desperately fighting to control the emotions that were pouring out of them.

This couldn't be it. Their love couldn't be over.

As their lips and tears continued to unite, Cara's fingers fumbled with Peter's belt. Her fingers were shaking from both fear and anticipation, but after one well placed tug the belt loosened and fell to the floor. Peter inhaled sharply as the cool air filtered up his gapping tunic and caressed his skin. The voice instantly returned, but this time Peter brushed it aside.

Propriety be damned.

Cara's fingers rested hesitantly along the top of Peter's trousers, his warm skin brushing across them every time he breathed. Peter intensified their kiss, a blatant invitation for Cara to continue. He awaited her next move, his hands staying securely around Cara's waist. He would not push her; he would never push her.

Slowly Cara's fingers left Peter's hips and trailed lightly up his torso and across his chest. Peter moaned; a deep, primal sound that nearly sent Cara off the edge. With a sudden burst of confidence, Cara's fingers left Peter's chest and returned to the bottom of his tunic. She pulled away from Peter's lips and pushed the fabric higher up Peter's torso. Following her lead, Peter raised his hands in the air and allowed Cara to pull his tunic completely off.

Cara's eyes took in the sight before her. She had seen Peter like this before, even washed the skin now exposed to her, but like this—alone in Peter's chambers, with the room so tense with emotion that it was hard to breath or think, and with Cara's stomach so constricted and tingly that she wanted nothing more than to be touched—everything seemed different. She didn't want to just see Peter's skin, she wanted to taste it.

So she did.

The noise the Peter made when Cara's lips grazed his chest was euphoric. His hands moved to Cara's back as she continued to kiss and lick and nibble her way across Peter's chest. Hazy with lust, Peter's fingers fumbled with the ties on Cara's gown. They were thin and tight and so frustrating that Peter nearly pulled the knife from his belt and simply slashed them open.

Finally they began to loosen, and after a few long moments of tugging Peter felt the gown give beneath his fingers. Cara stepped away from him then, her arms wrapped tightly around her chest as her gown drooped over her shoulders. For a moment Peter became worried. Had he gone too far?

The look in Cara's eyes indicated the very opposite. She took a shaky breath before forgoing the hold she had on her gown, which slowly rolled over her shoulders before slipping smoothly to the ground. Peter's body became instantly aware that Cara was now naked before him, but he kept his eyes securely on her face. Cara's lips nearly twitched into a smile at Peter's decency, but she wanted him to look at her; wanted him to see all of her.

"Look at me, Peter." Cara's cheeks were burning, and the cool air was already making her body taut, but she forced her hands to stay at her sides and her voice to remain strong.

Peter couldn't tell if it was the command, or the way that Cara said his name that made his body flush with heat, but it truly didn't matter, for the reaction was just the same. He held her eyes for a moment longer before finally allowing them to drop. Peter went painstakingly slow, making sure that every curve of Cara's body was ingrained into his memory. He would never see Cara like this again. He had to remember everything.

Cara attempted to remain composed as Peter's eyes moved past her shoulders and lingered on her chest. Was she adequate? She didn't really even know what that meant, but the expression on Peter's face gave her hope. He seemed entranced. Cara watched as his eyes continued to move downward, each new inch causing his breathing to increase and his body to tighten.

Finally Peter's gaze returned to Cara's. He said nothing, opting instead to bring her body flush against his as he captured her mouth in a deep, slow kiss. Cara instantly realized that skin on skin contact was a thousand times more thrilling. Peter's hands blazed trails along her back and over her hips, her previous fear dwindling away with each new touch.

Cara's hands made their way to Peter's trousers on their own accord. After a few moments of awkward fumbling, and a tear doused laugh from Peter, they finally came free and fell to the ground. Cara had never seen a man naked before. She wasn't a child— she understood how their bodies worked—but that didn't keep a blush from covering her face as her eyes took in all of Peter for the first time.

Peter remained calm, his eyes gauging Cara's reaction as she looked timidly down his length. Her blush deepened the further her eyes went, but before long she had returned them to Peter's face. He smiled softly down at her, his fingers trailing along her cheek and through her hair. "We don't have to do this," he stated.

"I have to know," Cara replied. The look of confusion on Peter's face urged her to explain. "I expected a lifetime with you," Cara continued as she cast her eyes towards the ground. "I don't want to go through my life never knowing what that life could have been."

"It won't make it any easier, Cara," Peter countered.

"No," Cara agreed, "it won't."

Peter regarded Cara softly before nodding his head in understanding and taking hold of her hand. She followed his lead as he ushered her onto the bed, her head dizzy with lust and nerves, and her chest heavy with the tears yet to come and the ache of a breaking heart.

Cara held her legs tightly together as Peter crawled beside her and placed chaste kisses across her face. Slowly his fingers massaged across her chest and down her stomach, her body tightening in a tantalizing, yet frustrating way. Just when the tension became unbearable, Peter's fingers found her core. She gasped, the awkwardness once again overridden by the amazing new sensations coursing through her body.

"Peter," Cara choked out as her hands gripped his shoulders and pulled him even harder against her. He silenced her with a deep kiss, his damp cheeks cool against her burning skin.

Just as Cara felt herself falling away, Peter removed his fingers and covered her body with his. Cara could feel him completely, her legs falling open without a thought as Peter settled between them. She was filled with a earning that she could barely explain, but the look in Peter's eyes told her that it didn't matter. He would lead her.

And he did.

Both moved together in an ancient dance that was laced with tears and moans and words of love that neither would ever forget. Some points were awkward; some slightly painful, but Peter's soft voice in Cara's ear led her forward and kept her secure.

The moon had began her decent by the time the moans quieted into soft whispers and chaste kisses. Neither wished to fall asleep, but after hours of fighting to hold onto her last precious moments with Peter, Cara's exhaustion finally overtook her. Her cheeks were crusty with dried tears and her eyes were still puffy and tinged with red. Peter didn't care. She was beautiful; breathtakingly, heartbreakingly, beautiful. And in the quiet moment just before dawn when nearly all of the world in asleep, she was his.

As Peter ran his fingers softly over Cara's curves and through her hair, he began to imagine that tonight had been their wedding night; that Cara's tear stained cheeks were from utter happiness; that in the morning he would wake her up with soft kisses, and that she would smile lazily up at him as he crawled back on top of her and reminded her again and again how much he loved her and how long forever could be.

Peter cried silently as his mind construed the future that would never be; a future that he had once mapped out in years. Now days weren't even viable. Hours were the most practical, but as the time ticked on, minutes and seconds became Peter's favorite. Less than three hours. A hundred and sixty minutes. Nine thousand six hundred seconds. The latter number brought Peter the most comfort. It was large and difficult to decipher how the other measures of time fit into it. He could pretend that nine thousand seconds equaled a hundred years.

He could pretend they had forever.

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