Author's note: This is definitely a story where if you don't like it, don't read it. Otherwise, I'd love to know what you think! Please review, good, bad, anything. I welcome all!

Chapter 1

The sheets were soft. He would often get tangled in them and wonder how anything could feel so soft and wonderful. Then he felt her.

His hands slid under her dress, roaming higher and higher, seizing the heated, smooth flesh of her thighs. In all his dreams, every forbidden fantasy, he never imagined this, such glorious perfection. He moaned into her mouth and thrust up against her. She was so sweet on his tongue… Her hands found his shoulders. Too much material, not enough skin. He heard something tear and a soft gasp. It didn't matter. He had to be closer. Had to feel her. Had to touch her. Everything. Everywhere.

It took him too long to realize that she wasn't grasping at his shoulders. She was pushing him away. Far too long.

"STOP IT!" she cried.

It was the first time her voice registered since he started kissing her. Peter reared back in horror. She was screaming and shoving against him, crying and kicking. He was so confused, so lost, what had he done? Why was she so upset with him?

Susan looked up at him with madness in her eyes, tear stained and stinging red cheeks. Her dress was torn, her hair wild, she was ravaged and terrified. Terrified? Susan was afraid? Of what? Then it came.

Him.

"You filthy monster!" she screamed and his head snapped back from the ferocity of her fist. "You wanted to make love to me!? Disgusting, filthy, bastard!" Her fist swung again and he knew his nose was broken. She shoved him hard and he fell off the bed, smacking hard against the stone floor.

"Susan!" he exclaimed in utter shock. Blood trickled out of his nose. "Please! I-I didn't mean-"

She kicked him this time and he couldn't stifle the groan as pain shot through his body.

"Perverted, loathsome animal! You make me sick! My brother! What have you done!?" she cried in aguish and scrambled away from him to the other side of the room.

Peter struggled to his feet. "I didn't know! I-I'm sorry! Susan, I love you!"

He never expected what came next. His beautiful, abused, raw, sister strung up her bow and leveled the arrow at his head.

What has he done?

"How could you do this to me?" she cried. She was so angry and so ashamed. "To us? How foul…depraved…beast!"

Peter couldn't hear her so well anymore, just pieces. Blood and screams roared in his ears. His vision blurred and nausea rolled through his stomach. The abhorrence she showed now, shuddering in distaste at the very sight of him was everything he had ever feared.

"Defiled! …touched me… my own brother! GET OUT!"

"I-I-I'm sorry, Su!" he sobbed.

It was all he could do now.

"Get out, Peter," she said in a dark, even tone that sent shivers down his spine.

He had never heard such hatred in her voice before; the anger in her eyes, the betrayal, the fear. She despised him.

"You know I won't miss."

He knew she wouldn't.

He prayed for it.

Stumbling for the door, he barely fell out of it before it slammed closed behind him. Alone in the darkened hallway, he sobbed against the stone. Fierce footsteps approached him from the right. Strong hands seized his collar and hauled him to his feet.

He barely saw who it was before he was delivered another blow, cracking across his cheek. Pain exploded into his eye and he looked back at his brother in shock.

"How could you do it!?" Edmund roared. "Are you damaged? Attacking Susan like some perverted monster?! You betrayed her!" Unable to contain himself, he shoved Peter hard into the wall. "She's our sister! You're revolting!" the younger king spat venomously.

Peter was voiceless.

"And now she's gone!" Edmund raged on, spurred by his brother's lack of response. "No one can find her. She's lost to us. It's all because of YOU!"

No.

..No.

Peter's gaze swung wildly.

She couldn't be gone.

Susan!

Peter ran.

Lucy was down the hall and twisted round at his heavy thunder. When her eyes rested upon him, Peter nearly died. She recoiled with a gasp, disgust marring her usually loving eyes. He was disgusting to her. Dearest Lucy.

He was running again, searching. He had to find her. He couldn't lose her. She was gone. What has he done? The castle was void and silent – there was no one left. He rode out into the forest, the woodland creatures had abandoned them, and the trees had retreated to dark slumbers. Susan! No one was here for him now. Narnia recoiled from him, a monstrous abomination; a truly evil king with dark, grotesque thoughts. His feelings were vile, unnatural; he wanted to love her in every way he shouldn't. He wasn't fit to walk this paradise. As she vanished, so did everything he had ever known.

SUSAN!

"Peter!"

With a gasp, Peter sat up in sweat soaked sheets. Panicked, he examined the room. His room. His bed.

And she was there.

"Peter," Susan whispered with wide, concerned eyes. "It's alright! It was only a nightmare. You're alright."

She was there!

He seized her tightly, gathering her in his arms and clutched her to him with all the strength he possessed. Whispering soothing words against his ear, she let him hold her.

"I'm so sorry, Su!" he cried against her shoulder. "I promise I'll be better! I-I swear it! I won't think like that anymore…I'll try to be better! I'll be a good brother to you, I won't hurt you. Please don't leave, Su! Please! Don't go!"

Susan could hardly understand him anymore as his words became more frenzied and nonsensical.

"Peter, quiet!" she ordered and there was a sense of regality to her tone.

He stopped talking at once and tried taking deep breaths, but could only manage a few hitching ones. Susan carefully peeled away from him, but he was so reluctant to let her out of his arms she had to settle for just being able to see his face.

"I'm not going anywhere," she said sternly, willing him to believe her. "It was just a dream."

He could only nod and at that she softened.

"I would never leave you, Peter. Anytime you need me, I'll be right here. Now just try to breathe a little bit. Slower. Yes, much better."

They waited in silence as Peter regained his bearings and the nightmare faded into memories. He let her go now, only to panic every time she moved as though she would disappear. The High King's room was dark, with only a pale sliver of moonlight to guide them. He couldn't see her face very well, but he didn't have to. He already knew every line and curve. It was burned into his vision. Her robe was haphazardly tied and threatened to spill open as she sat beside him with worried eyes.

Peter sighed.

"Better?" she asked quietly.

He nodded. "How did you…I mean, why are you…?" he stumbled over the question unsurely, but she knew what he was asking.

Her vision flickered downward at his bedspread and then to his face again. "The servants heard you. They thought you were calling for me, you kept screaming my name. Frightened me half to death…"

He swallowed thickly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…scare you." His voice trembled over the word.

Ravaged and terrified…

"I thought something had happened to you! I thought…well, I don't know what I thought. I was imagining all sorts of terrible things that could have happened to have you calling me in the middle of the night. But then I saw you thrashing about and shouting in your sleep." She paused for a moment and then ventured gently, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Immediately he shook his head no.

Conceding, she said, "Alright then. If you've calmed enough, perhaps you should try to get some rest. It is late after all…"

Before Peter could even protest her departure, she frowned at his face and glanced over his half unclothed body. Peter blushed under the scrutiny, however fleeting it was. She then examined the sheets, fingering them disapprovingly.

"That won't do…" she murmured to herself and then he could see she had made a decision. Susan grabbed his hand and led him out of bed.

"What-" he began to ask she was already pulling him towards the door.

"Your bedclothes are soaked," she said over her shoulder and offered no more than that.

Her determination led her onward. Opening the door, Peter saw Massius standing about nervously with three others. At the sight of the High King and Queen, they stood rapt to attention, knowing for sure that there was disaster to occur. They had never heard such a vulnerable cry from their King.

Susan spoke rapidly to Massius in hushed tones, the faun nodded gravely and after a worried sideways glance at Peter; he trotted off with the others. Susan was pulling at him again and they went straight down the hallway towards the southern bedchamber. It lay at the end of the hall, the exact opposite to his.

To the radiant southern sun…

"Susan, I'm fine, really…" Peter protested nervously, but she would have none of it.

They entered her room together and she dropped his hand for a moment to light a lamp on a nearby table. The loss of her reassuring touch made his chest clench in fear before he forced himself to relax and remember that it was only a nightmare, she wasn't going to vanish.

Peter stood awkwardly in the middle of her room, unsure of what she wanted from him. A soft rap against the door was answered by Susan in seconds. Hushed whispers again and then she closed it. When she faced him, her hands were occupied with a small bowl and a few white cloths. Steam rose off the water in the bowl and she brought it over to her bedside table. When she realized that he had yet to move, she beckoned him forward.

Jerkily, he moved his feet, which seemed abnormally heavy at this point, and stopped at the foot of the bed. Susan sighed impatiently and took his hand once more, guiding him to be seated atop the mattress. Frozen and silent, Peter sat there with his legs over the side and fearful eyes. What control was left to him?

Susan dipped the cloth into the bowl and then he felt the soothing warmth of the compress slide across his cheek and forehead. Startled, he looked up at her, but she was too focused on the task to notice. The light from the lamp danced across her beautiful, young face. Her features were drawn and her mouth firm as she tended to him in the way she always did; quiet, reserved, but utterly determined. Desire whipped through him so fast he lost his breath.

Don't look at her.

Dipping the cloth back in and wringing out the excess moisture, she washed away the cold sweat on his skin, tenderly wiping across his bare chest and stomach. Peter gritted his teeth as a burning fire spread through his body, nerves roaring to life, crying for more. A heated pressure in his groin was all too familiar and all too terrifying. He prayed with all his might for a saving grace and knew he would not receive it. Blue eyes locked on the floor, it was too dangerous to even breathe right now.

"They were all very worried about you," she said, her gaze flickering to his face and back again. "Massius had a near fit pounding on my door like that."

"How mortifying…" Peter muttered. "Do they know-"

She shook her head quickly. "I told them it was nothing to be concerned about."

"Small favors."

Repeating the ritual a few more times, Susan was finally satisfied and dropped the cloth once and for all. Picking up a nearby towel, she dried him carefully, all the while Peter was too shell-shocked to move. He had locked himself tighter than he imagined a stone would. His whole body ached.

"There," she said quietly. "Much better."

Peter could only nod his thanks. If she noticed his standoffishness, she didn't let on.

"I had them replace your linens, b-but if you'd rather not…"

Suddenly she became shy and almost embarrassed, as opposed to the ever-sure determination she displayed just seconds before. Peter gazed at her wonderingly.

"S-s-sleep here, you mean?" he squeaked out before he remembered that was exactly what he didn't want to say.

Susan nodded imperceptibly. "If you don't want to be alone, I wouldn't mind if you stayed with me. I never want to be alone after a nightmare. I always think the dream might return if there is not someone else there to fend it off." She chuckled lightly and added, "It has been a while since we've shared a bed…"

"Not since we were children," Peter agreed, knowing that was a safe thing to say, a brotherly thing.

"Lucy would say we still are children, though it grows more and more difficult to believe her. I think we've aged more than our years say. Do you feel like a child here?"

"I feel like a King," he breathed in reply.

Susan smirked at him with her trademark eyebrow raise. "That's probably because you are one."

"Do you feel like a Queen?" he asked.

It was such a simple question, yet the fractured emotion on her face made it seem like he asked her to cry and explain quantum physics at the same time (though knowing her, she would probably have had an answer to that one too). She stepped away from him and glided over to the table where the lamp was.

"Sometimes," she murmured.

"Why not always?"

When she turned back at last, he knew she wasn't going to answer him.

"You love Narnia, don't you, Su?" he cocked his head.

"With all my heart," she replied, but the sad smile that tinged her lips made him wonder.

Extinguishing the lamp so that her room was blanketed in darkness once more, Susan came back to the bed where Peter had yet to move from. He watched her shadowed form float through the dark and the bed dipped under her weight as she crawled beside him.

"Come, lie down," she told him and then gently pushed at his shoulders so he would fall back against the pillows. Her hands upon his bare skin made him shiver warmly. She pulled the covers back and over them both before lying down at his side.

His heart thudded against his chest so loudly; he knew it was impossible for her not to hear it.

"I-I," he stuttered anxiously. "I didn't say I was going to stay."

Peter nearly shouted in victory for having the strength to speak those words, but as soon as he felt like he had regained some type of control, she unwittingly ripped it from his shaking hands.

"If you haven't left by now, you won't ever," Susan said in the matter of fact tone that so often made him want to toss her off a bridge. "So, hush."

She always thought she was so clever, and just because she actually was, didn't mean she had to act like it all the time. He often relished the chance to drive her mad by arguing against something they both very well knew was right. He loved the way her face flushed angrily and her words became more pointed until she folded unto shouting and stormed away from him in pure frustration, muttering about the 'hopelessness of the male species'.

Susan had such fire in her and he treasured the fact that he was one of the few who could draw it out. Perhaps one day he would be able to discover another key to unlock that chamber, instead of resorting to taunts and pointless squabbles…oh, he could dream.

While others may jump at the chance to bluster, rage, and roar until their voice was heard, Susan never needed to. Her passion was kept reserved deep within, she didn't like to let others see it and there were few who ever managed it. Peter never really understood that. Though he revered the privilege of being one, it almost seemed like an injustice the rest of the world to be deprived of her. She was never so extraordinary and magnificent than when her true self was raised to the surface. Sometimes he would think that Aslan had titled them wrongly. Susan was far more magnificent than he. Filled with an ardent thirst and power, she would begin to glow so brightly and tangibly it couldn't help but raise everything else around her as well. Then he would see her love in her eyes and knew that there was never a more gentle sight.

Peter didn't realize he had been staring at her all this time, watching in silence through the dark, until she said, "Sleep. It'll be better in the morning."

It was dangerous what he was doing. Reckless and irresponsible considering how much strength it required just to keep himself from reaching out and embracing her the way every single nerve in his body was crying out for him to do, but Peter was torn between wanting to protect them and doing as she asked. At last, he nodded and gave in. He fell asleep with the lightest touch of her fingers brushing against his arm.