Forbidden
Title: Forbidden
Fandom: Chronicles of Narnia
Pairing: Peter/Susan
Rating: PG-13
Summary: When his siblings want to go apple picking, Peter remembers Narnia. Part of the 30_kisses challenge; theme #8 - Our Own World
Disclaimer: I own no one. Not even the apple tree. Yes, this is incest. Don’t read if you don’t like. Simple as that. If you bash me, I’ll bash you right back - because quite frankly I'm tired of it - and it won’t be pretty. You have been warned.
A/N: Just some things you need to know for this fic - 1) in Narnia, Peter is 17 years old and Susan is 16. 2) The Narnia flashback will NOT be done in italics, simply because it’s kind of long. The present time & the flashback will be alternated between with a *. 3) There’s a few other notes, but they’ll be at the end of the fic. 4) Enjoy!
It was a beautiful day - the kind of day that makes you smile the second you roll out of bed. The sky was a vivid color of blue and the bright sun seemed to dance around the clouds. The trees seemed to be alive and they were as green as ever.
So it was on such a day like this that three of the four Pevensie children were outside. Lucy, the youngest, had made note at the breakfast table that it was a good day for apple picking and her smile was so wide that Edmund had instantly agreed.
Both of them had looked at the eldest children then and Susan had told them in a sad voice that she would prefer to be alone with her thoughts. She had excused herself from the table, not looking at any of them.
Peter had followed his siblings outside simply because there was nothing else to do. The Professor’s house was no longer as inviting as it had been when they had first arrived, and the thought of exploring further made him feel quite sick.
It seemed these days that all he did was dwell on were his memories of Narnia. Two weeks ago to the day, the four of them had tumbled out of the wardrobe, out of the magical land they called home and into the reality they now felt out of place in. These thoughts were more than he could bear.
Edmund and Lucy had been quite eager to talk about Narnia, but Peter and Susan didn’t bother. They just kept their mouths shut completely and avoided one another. Edmund and Lucy picked up on this and so now none of them talked about it.
It didn’t take a smart person to tell that some lovely fresh air would do them all a bit of good.
Even so, the sky did not seem blue to him, nor did the sun seem bright. Everything seemed to be gray and gloomy, not at all like in Narnia, where everything was bursting with happiness. Everything was colorful - reds, yellows, blues, purples, greens, oranges...and some colors he did not even know the names of.
Peter walked silently between his brother and sister. If he had been paying attention to them, he would have noticed they kept giving each other looks that said ‘Will you say something?’ so as not to have to suffer the awkward silence that crept on them.
Eventually, Lucy took the lead and grabbed Peter’s hand, and stopped when they were far enough from the Professor’s house so that if one were to see them, they would look like large dots.
“Peter, look!” said Lucy, pointing. They were standing in front of one of the grandest apple trees he had ever seen. “It is just like the trees in Narnia!”
“Lu,” said Edmund, “you’re upsetting Peter.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Peter,” said Lucy, squeezing his hand gently.
Peter gave his sister a small smile. “It’s all right.”
Lucy nodded and let go of his hand, then turned to Edmund. “Lift me up, if you please,” she said.
Edmund rolled his eyes and picked Lucy up by the waist so that she could grab onto one of the branches and climb into the crook of the tree. This way, she would be able to reach the apples easier and pass them down to her brothers.
Peter said nothing and merely watched them. He was beginning to feel sick and was now wishing he had chosen to stay back after all. This tree was a reminder of one happy time in particular he had in Narnia, a reminder of things he had done that in no way could be condoned in the real world.
Turning away from the tree, a painful sensation in his chest, he faced the Professor’s house. He swallowed hard when he noticed that a figure was looking at him through the window. Even though he couldn’t make out who it was, he instinctively knew it was Susan.
When she realized that he was staring back, she immediately shut the curtains. And if Peter had been much closer, he might have seen that the pain he felt was mirrored in her eyes.
*
Peter looked up as another arrow whizzed by. Not surprisingly, it missed its target.
“Su,” said Peter, trying to keep the smile out of his voice. He felt it was good for his safety that he was as serious as possible.
“Yes?”
He leaned against the tree behind him. “Is there any reason in particular that you’re using apples as targets?”
“They’re smaller,” she answered, lifting her bow. A few seconds later, another arrow was released. Predictably, it missed.
“Smaller?”
“They make for better practice.”
“And yet you’re missing all of them.”
“Well,” sputtered Susan, “you’re distracting me!”
Peter fought the urge to roll his eyes and said, “For that I am deeply sorry.”
Susan did not answer him, but he could tell by the way her brow furrowed that she was irritated. She released another arrow - it shot through the air and missed the target again by inches.
She lowered her bow somewhat. “Oh, for goodness’ sake!”
“Susan, just be patient with it,” Peter advised.
“I am being patient!”
Peter sighed and walked over to the part of the field where the red apple sat atop a small, narrow, wooden table. He picked it up and placed it on the top of his head.
“What are you doing?” Susan got out.
“Let’s see if you miss now!” He smirked.
Susan laughed and the sound of it made Peter smile even wider. Her laugh was one of the most infectious he had ever heard. “All right, you’ve had your joke. Could you please set the apple down where it was?” When he didn’t move, she gasped, “By Jove, you’re serious! Peter, you’ve gone mad!”
“Not quite.”
“I refuse to shoot an arrow with you right there. It’ll hit you, surely, and you’ll be wounded.”
Peter shrugged. “I don’t think you’ll miss.”
Susan looked at him incredulously. “I’ve missed the past twenty times!”
“Well, yes, but that’s only because I’m distracting, eh?”
Susan stamped her foot. “You’re not any less distracting with that apple on your head.”
“Oh, Su, I’m trying to help you,” Peter explained. “You’re rather good at archery, you know - well, normally - and I think this will help you aim properly.”
“You are not trying to help,” said Susan, “you’re being an ass.”
Peter choked on his laughter. “Now, Queen Susan, that is not a remark I would expect from someone who is supposed to Gentle!”
Susan looked slightly ashamed, but shot back, “I would not expect a High King to be so arrogant as to think he’d survive if he got shot with an arrow!”
They were silent for a minute, and smiled at one another. Peter rather enjoyed the banter between them. “Do lighten up, sister,” he said finally. “If you’re patient, you won’t miss. Because if you do miss, I will die - according to you anyway - and all of Narnia will blame you.”
Susan raised her bow and aimed it at him. She screwed up her face in concentration and Peter stood perfectly still, waiting for the arrow’s release. It never came. Susan lowered the bow and shook her head. “This is ridiculous. I won’t do it.”
Peter, noting the tone of her voice had changed from playful to serious, decided not to argue with her. He took the apple off of his head and set it back down on the table.
He walked back over to where Susan stood and, before standing next to her, grabbed an apple from the tree and took a bite from it. It was sweet and delicious and the juice from it trickled down his throat. “Lovely,” he commented.
Susan looked at him and then to the apple. “Now I want one,” she said.
Peter shook the apple in front of her teasingly. “If you hit your target, I’ll let you pick one.”
“Let me?” said Susan, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t follow your orders, Peter.”
“Well, maybe you can have one even if you do miss.”
“Why, thank you,” said Susan, a sarcastic edge to her voice.
Remembering the task at hand, she straightened. Peter marveled at her. Susan held the bow in such a way that it appeared to be just another part of her body. Her posture could only be described as queenly, and the look on her face was one of pure concentration. One eye was closed and the other focused on the apple feet away. Her lips were parted slightly, and she breathed softly in and out to calm herself.
She was beautiful.
He stepped closer to her without thinking about it. He did not wish to break her focus, but in this moment he was so entranced by her that he could not help himself. He was so close, in fact, that when he muttered, “Patience”, Susan felt his breath on her neck.
A few seconds later, she released the arrow.
They stood, watching breathlessly - and then simultaneously they looked at each other, grins stretching to their ears. Next moment, Peter wrapped his arms around her in a hug so tight that the bow dropped from his sister’s hands. “By Jove, you did it!” he exclaimed, kissing her on the forehead.
Susan ran to the tree and picked an apple from it. “My prize,” she said, biting into it at once.
Peter continued to smile at her as a look of joy spread across her face. “This is heavenly,” she sighed, closing her eyes.
And it was then that Peter summoned the courage to do something he had wanted to do in a long while.
He kissed her. It was a simple brush of his lips against hers, but he did it hesitantly and then pulled back, waiting for her response. Susan didn’t say a word, just stared at him with her dark blue eyes. His heart beat nervously against his chest and he thought he might die from the anticipation.
“You made me drop my apple,” Susan said in a cracked voice.
“I’m sorry - ” he began, but he was cut off.
Susan’s lips were on his and her hands were on his face and it was gentle and everything he could hope for. Bliss was settling over him and he loved it.
She tasted of apples, sweet and tangy, and he wanted more.
Kissing her with all the passion he had inside him, Peter backed her into the tree. “Ow,” she giggled into his mouth, as her head bumped against it.
Peter pulled away breathlessly, cheeks hot and red, and his eyes widened. “Oh, Su, I didn’t mean - ”
“Stop talking,” she whispered, taking hold of his shirt and pulling him back to her.
He was only happy to oblige. He could hardly stand it - the feeling of her heated breath mingling with his, the smell of her hair, the soft skin of her cheek under his fingers, her body pressed right against his. It was maddening.
He moved his kisses away from her lips and down to her neck. Susan moaned as he did so, and her back rubbed against the tree, but Peter didn’t think she minded much. She was just as lost in him as he was in her. They were in their own world and nothing else mattered.
Her hands were tangled in his hair now, and his were on her shoulders. Then he ran them up and down her body and unbuttoned the first few buttons of her dress. She was panting heavily, and he kissed the newly exposed skin.
When he was about to unbutton the next few buttons, he felt Susan’s hands on his. Her voice was dry and she was breathless, but she managed to say, “What if someone sees?”
Peter was suddenly aware of where they were. They were out in the open, in a long stretch of field. There was nothing to hide them from passersby. He looked around and then back at Susan.
Her cheeks were flushed and her lips were pink. Her beautiful hair was in much disarray and, to his utter surprise, her dress was actually ripped in two places. Peter, ashamed, didn’t look her in the eye as he rebuttoned her dress.
He couldn’t believe what had just happened. What he had just done? Oh, it was so wrong and immoral and horrible in so many ways. And though Susan had responded to his advance with fervor, he still felt as if he had taken advantage of her in some way.
Peter, emotions getting the best of him, backed away from his sister, his eyes burning.
“Peter,” said Susan, straightening her skirts and hair. “Peter, it’s all right.”
“I just - ”
Susan closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head against his chest. “Really, it’s all right.”
He was surprised when she smiled, tears in her own eyes. “You did nothing wrong,” she said, reaching up and stroking his hair. “Nothing that wonderful can be wrong.”
Peter let out a sigh of shaky relief, then grinned and kissed the top of her head. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.”
Susan looked up at him curiously. “Really? How long?”
“Ah, that’s a secret.”
Susan rolled her eyes. “In that case, I won’t tell you how long I’ve been wanting you to do it.” She pulled away from the warmth of his embrace and gave him a cheeky smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get in some more practice.”
Peter handed her bow. “Or we could, you know, practice something else.”
Susan’s mouth opened in shock, as she picked another apple from the tree and went over to the wooden table to set it down. “You really are an ass.”
“And that really is a remark unsuitable for a Queen.”
Susan didn’t respond. She walked over to where he was standing and raised her bow at the target. She released the arrow.
It hit the apple dead center.
*
“OW, LUCY!”
Edmund’s strangled yell snapped Peter out of his reverie. He looked at his brother, who was lying on the ground, apples all round him.
“Oh, Ed, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to drop them on you!” squealed Lucy, trying to climb down the tree to go to him. Unfortunately, she was not used to climbing down trees and lost her footing.
“Lu!” shouted Peter, dashing to catch her.
He didn’t reach her in time, and she landed directly onto Edmund, who screamed in pain and yelled a number of inappropriate words.
“You broke my fall!” Lucy said through her tears as she scrambled off of him. She held his face and kissed his cheeks gratefully.
“You broke my body,” moaned Edmund.
“Oh, do stop fussing,” interjected Peter, squatting next to his brother. “Can you move at all?
“Does it look like I can move?”
“Edmund, I am so sorry!” said Lucy, now holding his head in her lap. “I suppose I am just really bad at apple picking.”
Peter began to move the apples out of the way so he could examine Edmund better. He was no doctor by any means, but he knew when a bone was broken. Many battles in Narnia had been helpful in that respect.
“What’s going on here?”
Peter looked round and saw Susan standing before them. He started somewhat and managed to explain to her that Lucy had somehow made a lot of the apples on the tree fall onto Edmund, then fell on him herself.
“If only you had your cordial, Lucy,” said Susan.
The three of them stared at her in shock. It was the first time she had mentioned anything to do with Narnia since they had returned.
Together, they all helped Edmund to stand. He moaned loudly, and Peter sighed. His bones weren’t broken at all. Peter had a strong feeling that Edmund was doing it more to garner attention from Lucy than because he was in actual pain.
“Can you take him back to the house, Lu?” asked Peter.
“Of course,” said Lucy, and she wrapped Edmund’s arm around her neck and they walked toward the house, the height difference between the two making them look quite odd. Peter could hear Edmund griping and Lucy apologizing profusely until they were far enough away that they couldn’t be heard anymore.
It was then that he looked at Susan. She was knelt on the ground, picking up the apples. “Lucy will still be wanting them,” she said, setting them into the wicker basket she had brought with her.
Peter bent down to help her. After what seemed like decades of aching quiet, he spoke. “Why’d you come out here?” he asked.
She didn’t answer, continuing to pick up the apples, but Peter stilled her hand with his. He stared at her until she was forced to look at him. Their eyes met and he could see that she was in as much pain as he was. “I like apples,” she said, and he could hear the unease in her voice.
He let go of her hand and sat back against the tree. “Susan,” he said desperately, “it doesn’t have to be this way.”
Susan shook her head adamantly. “It’s not tolerated, Peter. We’re in the real world now. Not our own world.” She said the words gently, as she always did, but the words were agony to him nevertheless.
Peter closed his eyes, defeated. Susan was right. There was no possibility that anyone around them would understand, even Edmund and Lucy. If they carried on like they wanted to, the strain would be too much to handle.
When Susan had finished collecting the apples, she set the basket down. Peter exhaled deeply as she sat next to him, leaning against the tree and resting her head on his shoulder.
“So...where do we go from here?” he said. “Are we just supposed to forget about everything that happened between us in Narnia?”
“I could never forget,” Susan said softly, finding his hand and lacing their fingers together.
“Neither could I.”
They sat in comfortable silence for awhile, both feeling melancholy and somehow content at the same time. It was a strange feeling and one that Peter wouldn’t soon forget.
Susan pulled away from him and brought the basket of apples nearer to them. “Here,” she said, taking an apple out of the basket and handing it to him.
Peter smiled down at the apple in his hands and Susan took one for herself, then rested her head on his shoulder once more.
And suddenly, after sitting underneath the tree with his sister for quite some time, he noticed how bright the sky was and the shining beauty of the sun.
Everything around them exuded color. Reds, yellows, blues, purples, greens, oranges...
...and some colors he did not even know the names of.
A/N Again: Just some other things - 1) Sorry if I hit you over the head with symbolism. I wasn’t trying to, but it might come off that way. I just thought the whole ‘forbidden’ them tying in with apples was sexy. 2) That’s the first kissing scene I’ve written in about a year. So any feedback on that would be nice.
Also, I've made a table for the Peter/Susan fics I'm doing for 30_kisses, which you can find here. I secretly call it the Perusan table, which is a play on words. It's like 'perusing' but with Peter and Susan instead. Yes, I am a loser. ;)
Fandom: Chronicles of Narnia
Pairing: Peter/Susan
Rating: PG-13
Summary: When his siblings want to go apple picking, Peter remembers Narnia. Part of the 30_kisses challenge; theme #8 - Our Own World
Disclaimer: I own no one. Not even the apple tree. Yes, this is incest. Don’t read if you don’t like. Simple as that. If you bash me, I’ll bash you right back - because quite frankly I'm tired of it - and it won’t be pretty. You have been warned.
A/N: Just some things you need to know for this fic - 1) in Narnia, Peter is 17 years old and Susan is 16. 2) The Narnia flashback will NOT be done in italics, simply because it’s kind of long. The present time & the flashback will be alternated between with a *. 3) There’s a few other notes, but they’ll be at the end of the fic. 4) Enjoy!
It was a beautiful day - the kind of day that makes you smile the second you roll out of bed. The sky was a vivid color of blue and the bright sun seemed to dance around the clouds. The trees seemed to be alive and they were as green as ever.
So it was on such a day like this that three of the four Pevensie children were outside. Lucy, the youngest, had made note at the breakfast table that it was a good day for apple picking and her smile was so wide that Edmund had instantly agreed.
Both of them had looked at the eldest children then and Susan had told them in a sad voice that she would prefer to be alone with her thoughts. She had excused herself from the table, not looking at any of them.
Peter had followed his siblings outside simply because there was nothing else to do. The Professor’s house was no longer as inviting as it had been when they had first arrived, and the thought of exploring further made him feel quite sick.
It seemed these days that all he did was dwell on were his memories of Narnia. Two weeks ago to the day, the four of them had tumbled out of the wardrobe, out of the magical land they called home and into the reality they now felt out of place in. These thoughts were more than he could bear.
Edmund and Lucy had been quite eager to talk about Narnia, but Peter and Susan didn’t bother. They just kept their mouths shut completely and avoided one another. Edmund and Lucy picked up on this and so now none of them talked about it.
It didn’t take a smart person to tell that some lovely fresh air would do them all a bit of good.
Even so, the sky did not seem blue to him, nor did the sun seem bright. Everything seemed to be gray and gloomy, not at all like in Narnia, where everything was bursting with happiness. Everything was colorful - reds, yellows, blues, purples, greens, oranges...and some colors he did not even know the names of.
Peter walked silently between his brother and sister. If he had been paying attention to them, he would have noticed they kept giving each other looks that said ‘Will you say something?’ so as not to have to suffer the awkward silence that crept on them.
Eventually, Lucy took the lead and grabbed Peter’s hand, and stopped when they were far enough from the Professor’s house so that if one were to see them, they would look like large dots.
“Peter, look!” said Lucy, pointing. They were standing in front of one of the grandest apple trees he had ever seen. “It is just like the trees in Narnia!”
“Lu,” said Edmund, “you’re upsetting Peter.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Peter,” said Lucy, squeezing his hand gently.
Peter gave his sister a small smile. “It’s all right.”
Lucy nodded and let go of his hand, then turned to Edmund. “Lift me up, if you please,” she said.
Edmund rolled his eyes and picked Lucy up by the waist so that she could grab onto one of the branches and climb into the crook of the tree. This way, she would be able to reach the apples easier and pass them down to her brothers.
Peter said nothing and merely watched them. He was beginning to feel sick and was now wishing he had chosen to stay back after all. This tree was a reminder of one happy time in particular he had in Narnia, a reminder of things he had done that in no way could be condoned in the real world.
Turning away from the tree, a painful sensation in his chest, he faced the Professor’s house. He swallowed hard when he noticed that a figure was looking at him through the window. Even though he couldn’t make out who it was, he instinctively knew it was Susan.
When she realized that he was staring back, she immediately shut the curtains. And if Peter had been much closer, he might have seen that the pain he felt was mirrored in her eyes.
*
Peter looked up as another arrow whizzed by. Not surprisingly, it missed its target.
“Su,” said Peter, trying to keep the smile out of his voice. He felt it was good for his safety that he was as serious as possible.
“Yes?”
He leaned against the tree behind him. “Is there any reason in particular that you’re using apples as targets?”
“They’re smaller,” she answered, lifting her bow. A few seconds later, another arrow was released. Predictably, it missed.
“Smaller?”
“They make for better practice.”
“And yet you’re missing all of them.”
“Well,” sputtered Susan, “you’re distracting me!”
Peter fought the urge to roll his eyes and said, “For that I am deeply sorry.”
Susan did not answer him, but he could tell by the way her brow furrowed that she was irritated. She released another arrow - it shot through the air and missed the target again by inches.
She lowered her bow somewhat. “Oh, for goodness’ sake!”
“Susan, just be patient with it,” Peter advised.
“I am being patient!”
Peter sighed and walked over to the part of the field where the red apple sat atop a small, narrow, wooden table. He picked it up and placed it on the top of his head.
“What are you doing?” Susan got out.
“Let’s see if you miss now!” He smirked.
Susan laughed and the sound of it made Peter smile even wider. Her laugh was one of the most infectious he had ever heard. “All right, you’ve had your joke. Could you please set the apple down where it was?” When he didn’t move, she gasped, “By Jove, you’re serious! Peter, you’ve gone mad!”
“Not quite.”
“I refuse to shoot an arrow with you right there. It’ll hit you, surely, and you’ll be wounded.”
Peter shrugged. “I don’t think you’ll miss.”
Susan looked at him incredulously. “I’ve missed the past twenty times!”
“Well, yes, but that’s only because I’m distracting, eh?”
Susan stamped her foot. “You’re not any less distracting with that apple on your head.”
“Oh, Su, I’m trying to help you,” Peter explained. “You’re rather good at archery, you know - well, normally - and I think this will help you aim properly.”
“You are not trying to help,” said Susan, “you’re being an ass.”
Peter choked on his laughter. “Now, Queen Susan, that is not a remark I would expect from someone who is supposed to Gentle!”
Susan looked slightly ashamed, but shot back, “I would not expect a High King to be so arrogant as to think he’d survive if he got shot with an arrow!”
They were silent for a minute, and smiled at one another. Peter rather enjoyed the banter between them. “Do lighten up, sister,” he said finally. “If you’re patient, you won’t miss. Because if you do miss, I will die - according to you anyway - and all of Narnia will blame you.”
Susan raised her bow and aimed it at him. She screwed up her face in concentration and Peter stood perfectly still, waiting for the arrow’s release. It never came. Susan lowered the bow and shook her head. “This is ridiculous. I won’t do it.”
Peter, noting the tone of her voice had changed from playful to serious, decided not to argue with her. He took the apple off of his head and set it back down on the table.
He walked back over to where Susan stood and, before standing next to her, grabbed an apple from the tree and took a bite from it. It was sweet and delicious and the juice from it trickled down his throat. “Lovely,” he commented.
Susan looked at him and then to the apple. “Now I want one,” she said.
Peter shook the apple in front of her teasingly. “If you hit your target, I’ll let you pick one.”
“Let me?” said Susan, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t follow your orders, Peter.”
“Well, maybe you can have one even if you do miss.”
“Why, thank you,” said Susan, a sarcastic edge to her voice.
Remembering the task at hand, she straightened. Peter marveled at her. Susan held the bow in such a way that it appeared to be just another part of her body. Her posture could only be described as queenly, and the look on her face was one of pure concentration. One eye was closed and the other focused on the apple feet away. Her lips were parted slightly, and she breathed softly in and out to calm herself.
She was beautiful.
He stepped closer to her without thinking about it. He did not wish to break her focus, but in this moment he was so entranced by her that he could not help himself. He was so close, in fact, that when he muttered, “Patience”, Susan felt his breath on her neck.
A few seconds later, she released the arrow.
They stood, watching breathlessly - and then simultaneously they looked at each other, grins stretching to their ears. Next moment, Peter wrapped his arms around her in a hug so tight that the bow dropped from his sister’s hands. “By Jove, you did it!” he exclaimed, kissing her on the forehead.
Susan ran to the tree and picked an apple from it. “My prize,” she said, biting into it at once.
Peter continued to smile at her as a look of joy spread across her face. “This is heavenly,” she sighed, closing her eyes.
And it was then that Peter summoned the courage to do something he had wanted to do in a long while.
He kissed her. It was a simple brush of his lips against hers, but he did it hesitantly and then pulled back, waiting for her response. Susan didn’t say a word, just stared at him with her dark blue eyes. His heart beat nervously against his chest and he thought he might die from the anticipation.
“You made me drop my apple,” Susan said in a cracked voice.
“I’m sorry - ” he began, but he was cut off.
Susan’s lips were on his and her hands were on his face and it was gentle and everything he could hope for. Bliss was settling over him and he loved it.
She tasted of apples, sweet and tangy, and he wanted more.
Kissing her with all the passion he had inside him, Peter backed her into the tree. “Ow,” she giggled into his mouth, as her head bumped against it.
Peter pulled away breathlessly, cheeks hot and red, and his eyes widened. “Oh, Su, I didn’t mean - ”
“Stop talking,” she whispered, taking hold of his shirt and pulling him back to her.
He was only happy to oblige. He could hardly stand it - the feeling of her heated breath mingling with his, the smell of her hair, the soft skin of her cheek under his fingers, her body pressed right against his. It was maddening.
He moved his kisses away from her lips and down to her neck. Susan moaned as he did so, and her back rubbed against the tree, but Peter didn’t think she minded much. She was just as lost in him as he was in her. They were in their own world and nothing else mattered.
Her hands were tangled in his hair now, and his were on her shoulders. Then he ran them up and down her body and unbuttoned the first few buttons of her dress. She was panting heavily, and he kissed the newly exposed skin.
When he was about to unbutton the next few buttons, he felt Susan’s hands on his. Her voice was dry and she was breathless, but she managed to say, “What if someone sees?”
Peter was suddenly aware of where they were. They were out in the open, in a long stretch of field. There was nothing to hide them from passersby. He looked around and then back at Susan.
Her cheeks were flushed and her lips were pink. Her beautiful hair was in much disarray and, to his utter surprise, her dress was actually ripped in two places. Peter, ashamed, didn’t look her in the eye as he rebuttoned her dress.
He couldn’t believe what had just happened. What he had just done? Oh, it was so wrong and immoral and horrible in so many ways. And though Susan had responded to his advance with fervor, he still felt as if he had taken advantage of her in some way.
Peter, emotions getting the best of him, backed away from his sister, his eyes burning.
“Peter,” said Susan, straightening her skirts and hair. “Peter, it’s all right.”
“I just - ”
Susan closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head against his chest. “Really, it’s all right.”
He was surprised when she smiled, tears in her own eyes. “You did nothing wrong,” she said, reaching up and stroking his hair. “Nothing that wonderful can be wrong.”
Peter let out a sigh of shaky relief, then grinned and kissed the top of her head. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.”
Susan looked up at him curiously. “Really? How long?”
“Ah, that’s a secret.”
Susan rolled her eyes. “In that case, I won’t tell you how long I’ve been wanting you to do it.” She pulled away from the warmth of his embrace and gave him a cheeky smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get in some more practice.”
Peter handed her bow. “Or we could, you know, practice something else.”
Susan’s mouth opened in shock, as she picked another apple from the tree and went over to the wooden table to set it down. “You really are an ass.”
“And that really is a remark unsuitable for a Queen.”
Susan didn’t respond. She walked over to where he was standing and raised her bow at the target. She released the arrow.
It hit the apple dead center.
*
“OW, LUCY!”
Edmund’s strangled yell snapped Peter out of his reverie. He looked at his brother, who was lying on the ground, apples all round him.
“Oh, Ed, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to drop them on you!” squealed Lucy, trying to climb down the tree to go to him. Unfortunately, she was not used to climbing down trees and lost her footing.
“Lu!” shouted Peter, dashing to catch her.
He didn’t reach her in time, and she landed directly onto Edmund, who screamed in pain and yelled a number of inappropriate words.
“You broke my fall!” Lucy said through her tears as she scrambled off of him. She held his face and kissed his cheeks gratefully.
“You broke my body,” moaned Edmund.
“Oh, do stop fussing,” interjected Peter, squatting next to his brother. “Can you move at all?
“Does it look like I can move?”
“Edmund, I am so sorry!” said Lucy, now holding his head in her lap. “I suppose I am just really bad at apple picking.”
Peter began to move the apples out of the way so he could examine Edmund better. He was no doctor by any means, but he knew when a bone was broken. Many battles in Narnia had been helpful in that respect.
“What’s going on here?”
Peter looked round and saw Susan standing before them. He started somewhat and managed to explain to her that Lucy had somehow made a lot of the apples on the tree fall onto Edmund, then fell on him herself.
“If only you had your cordial, Lucy,” said Susan.
The three of them stared at her in shock. It was the first time she had mentioned anything to do with Narnia since they had returned.
Together, they all helped Edmund to stand. He moaned loudly, and Peter sighed. His bones weren’t broken at all. Peter had a strong feeling that Edmund was doing it more to garner attention from Lucy than because he was in actual pain.
“Can you take him back to the house, Lu?” asked Peter.
“Of course,” said Lucy, and she wrapped Edmund’s arm around her neck and they walked toward the house, the height difference between the two making them look quite odd. Peter could hear Edmund griping and Lucy apologizing profusely until they were far enough away that they couldn’t be heard anymore.
It was then that he looked at Susan. She was knelt on the ground, picking up the apples. “Lucy will still be wanting them,” she said, setting them into the wicker basket she had brought with her.
Peter bent down to help her. After what seemed like decades of aching quiet, he spoke. “Why’d you come out here?” he asked.
She didn’t answer, continuing to pick up the apples, but Peter stilled her hand with his. He stared at her until she was forced to look at him. Their eyes met and he could see that she was in as much pain as he was. “I like apples,” she said, and he could hear the unease in her voice.
He let go of her hand and sat back against the tree. “Susan,” he said desperately, “it doesn’t have to be this way.”
Susan shook her head adamantly. “It’s not tolerated, Peter. We’re in the real world now. Not our own world.” She said the words gently, as she always did, but the words were agony to him nevertheless.
Peter closed his eyes, defeated. Susan was right. There was no possibility that anyone around them would understand, even Edmund and Lucy. If they carried on like they wanted to, the strain would be too much to handle.
When Susan had finished collecting the apples, she set the basket down. Peter exhaled deeply as she sat next to him, leaning against the tree and resting her head on his shoulder.
“So...where do we go from here?” he said. “Are we just supposed to forget about everything that happened between us in Narnia?”
“I could never forget,” Susan said softly, finding his hand and lacing their fingers together.
“Neither could I.”
They sat in comfortable silence for awhile, both feeling melancholy and somehow content at the same time. It was a strange feeling and one that Peter wouldn’t soon forget.
Susan pulled away from him and brought the basket of apples nearer to them. “Here,” she said, taking an apple out of the basket and handing it to him.
Peter smiled down at the apple in his hands and Susan took one for herself, then rested her head on his shoulder once more.
And suddenly, after sitting underneath the tree with his sister for quite some time, he noticed how bright the sky was and the shining beauty of the sun.
Everything around them exuded color. Reds, yellows, blues, purples, greens, oranges...
...and some colors he did not even know the names of.
A/N Again: Just some other things - 1) Sorry if I hit you over the head with symbolism. I wasn’t trying to, but it might come off that way. I just thought the whole ‘forbidden’ them tying in with apples was sexy. 2) That’s the first kissing scene I’ve written in about a year. So any feedback on that would be nice.
Also, I've made a table for the Peter/Susan fics I'm doing for 30_kisses, which you can find here. I secretly call it the Perusan table, which is a play on words. It's like 'perusing' but with Peter and Susan instead. Yes, I am a loser. ;)