To the Future

******

Author's note: Before you begin, I must, must, must warn you ahead of time that A) I am not really a Narnia fan – skimmed the first book back when I was a kid and did the same with the movies, so I don't really know all the lingo or the characterization; B), this fic deals with incest and dubious consent, so if that's not your thing, or you're squicked bad by that stuff, please leave – I totally warned you; and C) this fic started off much, much darker, but somewhere along the road, I flipped tones, so sorry for that!

Don't own a thing, don't sue me.

ON WITH THE SHOW!

******

Dusk was fast approaching Cair Paravel. The fading light of the sun threw long shadows over the courtyard where the High King watched his younger brother and sister sparring.

"Lift your arm, Luce," admonished King Edmund to his partner. "Closer to your chest!"

Lucy – Queen Lucy the Valiant to her subjects, Luce to her brothers and sister in a playful mood, Lucy in more serious times – pouted and parried Edmund's thrust. "I know how to fight, Edmund!" she retorted. Taking advantage of her brother's distraction, she lunged forward, the capped foil whistling in the air as it met its target – Edmund's chestplate – with a metallic clang.

Peter burst out laughing. "She's got you, Ed."

Edmund did not share his brother's amusement. He pushed the foil away in a fury and stomped off the bronze piste that had been laid out on the bare stone of the courtyard. Peter was still laughing. "Don't tease him, Peter," came a voice from behind him. Their sister, Susan, had come to join them. The last rays of the sun shone off her ruby-colored gown, giving her an unearthly glow. Many a man had declared Queen Susan the Gentle the fairest in the land, and in that moment, Peter had to agree wholeheartedly.

"That's right, Susan. How was Ed to know the apprentice would overtake the master?" asked Lucy innocently. She jaunted over to the stone bench where a sullen Edmund had taken a seat next to Peter, pulling off his armor. "Not bad for a mere six months, wouldn't you agree?"

"It's my fault for teaching you so well," muttered Edmund darkly. Even though he was no longer a child, he still tended to sulk when he didn't get his way.

Lucy playfully swat her brother's shoulder. "Not that well."

"Peace, you two," rebuked Peter, clapping his brother and sister on the shoulder.

Susan pulled her sister in for a hug. "I think Lucy did extremely well…all because of Ed's tuition, of course."

The queen's words appeared to have placated Edmund, for he gave a small smile, which lit up his young, handsome face. The four siblings basked in the joy of each other's company for a few seconds as the sun set. The peace was interrupted by Julmass, the High King's advisor, a wise old centaur, entering the courtyard and clearing his throat to get their attention.

"What is it, Julmass?" asked Peter, rising.

The centaur bowed his head in respect before answering. "Great pardon for interrupting you, my liege. There is an envoy from Calormen to meet with you."

"At this hour?" Lucy asked incredulously.

"Did he inform you of his reasons for coming here?" Peter was already making his way to the throne hall. His siblings quickly followed.

"No, your majesty, he said he would speak only to you," answered the advisor.

The kings and queens of Narnia arrived at the throne hall and prepared for their audience with the Calormen envoy. He was escorted in shortly afterwards. He was a tall, dark-haired man, dressed in the native garb of his land, and his eyes flitted inquisitively over the four seated on the thrones before him. The guards left him in front of Peter, where he knelt and said in a deep baritone, "High King."

Peter contemplated the man for a second before saying, "Speak. What is your message?"

The man lifted his head and fixed his eyes not on Peter, but on Susan. "My king seeks the hand of Queen Susan."

"What?" blurted out Edmund.

The envoy repeated his message. "My king desires Queen Susan in marriage. He has heard of her beauty, her kindness, her great intelligence, and is moved to take her as his consort."

Peter was frozen in complete shock and Susan was in a similar state. The two younger Pevensies, however, were not similarly afflicted. "My sister is not for the taking!" declared Lucy.

"What madness is this?" Edmund added.

Never taking his eyes off Susan, the envoy continued. "My king has instructed me to inform you that if you refuse him this request, he will gather his troops and storm Cair Paravel and lay it to waste."

"Now I know he is mad!" Edmund had jumped up, his hand on the sword hilt at his side.

"Edmund, hold!" commanded Peter. He had risen as well, his eyes cloudy, an unreadable emotion flitting across them.

"Your king hasn't even laid eyes on Susan. Surely he would like to see the woman he intends for his bride?" Lucy tried to keep her voice steady, though her hand, too, was at the dagger she always kept on her person. She was ready – and willing – to defend her sister's honor.

During the entire exchange, Susan had stayed quiet. Now, she stood unhurriedly, smoothing down the skirt of her gown with the palms of her hands. "Good sir," she began softly, "I am honored – no, humbled – by your king's request. I must ask, however, that he give me a few days to think it over and discuss it with my family. Please assure him this is not an incitement to war. I merely…need time. This is not a trivial matter, by any means."

The envoy nodded slowly at Susan's words. "Your majesty is wise as well as beautiful. Very well, my dear queen, I will send word to my king. You will have three days before you must make your decision. I trust you will make the correct one."

The man bowed and the guards rushed to escort him out of the throne hall. After he was out of earshot, the Pevensies immediately pounced on their sister. Lucy was the first to speak. "Have you gone completely mad, Sue?"

Edmund continued his sister's line of thought. "You can't be in your right mind! Are you seriously considering marrying that barbarian king?"

Susan remained silent. Her gaze was fixed on her elder brother, who had not chosen to add his own thoughts to the conversation. Edmund and Lucy followed her line of sight. "Peter, talk some sense into her!" pleaded Lucy, clutching at the High King's arm.

Peter stared into Susan's eyes, looking deep into her heart, into her soul, feeling the bond between them – brother and sister, king and queen…and something more. He knew, without words, without coherent meaning, that what she had done, she had done for all of them. Bought them some time. Time to think all of this through, time to plan. He also knew, with grave certainty, that if there was no way for this to turn out in their favor, she was willing to make the sacrifice. She was willing to trade her life for all of Narnia – for Edmund, for Lucy, and for himself. She was willing to be forced into a marriage with a brute tyrant so that they might live.

Peter's heart almost broke with love.

He reached out his hand and Susan instantly placed her own in it. "Do you trust me?" The question was whispered so low, it was almost inaudible.

"Always, and with my life." The answer came back just as softly, but with an incredible force behind it.

Peter nodded, once. He turned to each of his younger siblings in turn. "Ed, Luce, I want you to get some rest. We have three days to figure this out and we're going to need every bit of strength we have."

"But, Pete…" Edmund started to protest.

"Go, Ed, it'll be all right." Susan gently reassured him, patting him on the shoulder. "We'll talk in the morning."

The two younger Pevensies still looked hesitant, but they made their way out of the throne hall. Peter waited until they had left before leading Susan to his bedchamber, having to restrain himself from dragging her.

The thought of another man claiming Susan…another man taking her…another man kissing those lush lips, tracing his tongue along her collarbone, kneading the flesh of her thighs…it was enough to drive Peter to murder. He wouldn't let it happen; he couldn't let it happen. She was his – his to love, his to possess.

They were barely through the door to his bedchamber when he started kissing her. It didn't matter who saw – he wanted her. He had to have her.

"Peter!" she scolded against his mouth. She quickly slammed the door shut behind them. "Peter, stop!"

He ignored her admonishment, his tongue driving deeper into her mouth. Her hands curved along her buttocks, pulling her slight frame closer to him, as if he wanted to mold their bodies into one. This felt right. This was right. Why had he waited so long?

"Please!" Susan cried. She shoved him away in one surprisingly fierce movement. "What is the matter with you?"

He pulled her to by with a hand at the back of her neck. "The thought of you with another man…I won't allow it. You're mine. You belong to me."

He made as if to kiss her again, but Susan stopped him with a palm laid flat across his chest. "Peter…you're not being logical. We're brother and sister. Nothing can happen between us. It never can. What you're feeling now…it's just…possessiveness. That's all."

Her words were reasonable, practical – as of course, they would be, coming from Susan, the level-headed one. He could feel the tension in her neck. He knew she was deeply disturbed by his behavior, but she was too polite to call him on it, and instead, chose the path of least resistance – reason. His blood stirred with desire for her, like liquid fire dancing through his veins. It was so hard to concentrate when her lips beckoned to him, twin berries ripe for the plucking. "Possessive, yes," he murmured in agreement. He tilted her head down so he could capture her lips again. "I want to possess all of you."

"No!" she yelled, forcing him back. She spun around, ready to flee his chamber, but he locked his arms around her slight waist. "Let me go, Peter!"

In the next moment, they were on his bed, Susan struggling to escape, Peter fighting to keep her under control. Susan began to scream, but he silenced her with a hard kiss. He didn't want her waking Edmund or Lucy. When he was sufficiently certain she'd calmed down, he slowly pulled back, though his body still pinned her to the bed.

Tears had sprung from her eyes, their tracks glittering trails along her porcelain cheeks. "No, no, don't cry, my love, don't cry," he begged. He carefully ran his knuckle along her jawline. "This will be beautiful and pleasurable. I swear to you I will give you pleasure."

"All this," she sobbed, "because I sought to buy us time to plan?"

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "All this, because I need to you to know exactly who you belong to. I will prove the truth of my love on your body."

Susan continued to cry, but Peter ignored her, stripping the ruby-red gown from her shoulders, baring her to his burning gaze. Her small, pert breasts were twin orbs of creamy perfection, topped with dusky rose nipples that hardened almost immediately in the cool night air. Gently, he took hold of one coral bud, rolling it between thumb and forefinger, wondering at its firmness. He heard Susan catch her breath and stopped his action, thinking he'd hurt her.

"I…I'm sorry. Did that pain you?" he asked, his voice concerned.

It had felt like pain, at first, the violent jolt that danced through her from head to toe. Now, Susan was uncertain what name to give the sensation she had felt when Peter had touched her. She looked up into his troubled face and decided once more to put him off this course of action. "Peter, I beg you, stop this. It's not too late."

"It's always been too late," he answered simply. He brushed his lips over her throat, feeling her pulse leap beneath his mouth. He finished undressing her, then himself, and when the last article of clothing fell away, and nothing was between their bodies, he felt like there was no greater truth in the universe than this.

Susan had stopped crying and was now laying still and silent beneath him. He didn't want to force his sister, but his need to have her was so complete, it was hard to think clearly. He gently nuzzled the hollow of her neck, moving his lips to her ear, where he whispered, "I promise the pain will only be a little."

Carefully, he inserted one finger into the space between her thighs. Shock made Susan clamp her legs together, but he pushed them apart with one swift movement. She mewled softly in protest. "Please…"

"Don't fight it. I want to make this as wonderful as possible for you." With his finger, he tenderly prepared her, giving her a taste of the actions to come. His manhood was almost bursting with desire, but he held himself back – he wouldn't take her before it was absolutely necessary.

Susan's tears had begun anew. "Peter, I'm begging you, please, please…"

Not stopping his sensual assault of her most intimate quarter, he licked away the tears that had fallen across her delicate cheeks. "Understand me, Susan, I beg you. I want to share this with you. I want to show my love for you. I want you to know…for we cannot know what the future holds for us. We cannot know if tomorrow or three days from now, you must be taken off to Calormen because your king is not clever enough to devise a plan to save you. I need you to know – truly know – how I feel for you. My darling, sweet, precious queen." He punctuated each adjective with a kiss.

Susan stared into the face of Peter the Magnificent – warrior, king, brother – and all she could see was the raw emotion. He believed, beyond a doubt, that what he did now was necessary. She saw in his eyes the silent plea for her to understand him, his actions, and oddly enough, she did. With perfect clarity, she understood.

She relaxed beneath him, the tension draining from her body. If he wanted to leave her with this love – if this was the memory that she must carry with her to Calormen – then so be it. She had always trusted him, in all things, since they were children. This moment was no different.

Soothingly, she reached a hand up to his face. "Love me, then, my king. Love me."

Peter felt the wetness on his finger and knew she was ready. He was already on the brink of abandon as he eased himself deep inside her. The slippery walls of her sex clamped immediately around him, drawing him in. It was as if her body had been molded for him. Susan gasped, shutting her eyes.

"Open your eyes, darling, I want to see them when I bring you to pleasure." He pushed deeper inside her, almost to her womb, and it felt like perfection.

The two of them writhed rhythmically together on the bed, moaning aloud at the bliss that seized them. Susan splayed her fingers across Peter's back, holding on for dear life. The emotions that played through her had no name, no words would hold them. Pinpoints of light exploded somewhere in the distance and she could feel their fire from her eyelashes to her belly. Peter's maleness moved ferociously in and out of her wet core, driving the both of them to madness. She felt as though she were climbing steadily and effortlessly up a sheer rock wall. At any moment, she would emerge at the top and witness the sunrise. Any moment now…

"Susan!" Peter cried huskily, before his entire body was gripped with fierce shudders and he fell heavily across her chest.

A sticky sweetness filled her and the next second, Susan knew true pleasure.

They lay panting and unspeaking for a few brief moments. Peter rolled off and laid his hand across his eyes. "I love you," he pronounced, finding her hand tangled in the blankets and clasping it to his lips. "I love you." He repeated.

Susan squeezed his hand in response, too winded to speak. Whatever happened next was out of their control. She dreaded to think of the sacrifice she would have to make, but in the darkest of night, she would have this candle to guide her. The love of Peter.

The magnificent.

The High King.

The man whom she loved.