Sorry for the long wait! Enjoy!

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Chapter 9

"Where's Peter going?" asked Lucy, stepping away from Edmund as she watched her eldest brother leave the ball room. She turned her head and retraced his path, her eyes landing on a rather rejected looking Susan, standing alone in the middle of the dance floor. "What do you think happened?" she questioned.

"I dunno," replied Edmund. "Should we go over and ask?"

"No, but we should go and see if she's all right," answered the queen, walking in the direction of her sister. "Are you okay, Susan?" she asked, coming up beside her.

"I'm fine," Susan mumbled, rather weakly.

"What happened?" inquired Edmund, as he too walked next to her. Lucy huffed angrily and smacked him on the arm, causing him to cringe and step away from her. "What in the world was that for?"

"I told you not to ask!" she whispered harshly, glaring at him.

"Its fine, nothing happened," answered Susan, walking off the dance floor and finding a seat at an empty table. "He wanted to tell me something, but he didn't. He just…walked away."

"What a coward," Edmund muttered beneath his breath, suddenly finding himself quite angry with Peter for leaving his sister this way.

Lucy sat down beside Susan and patted her shoulder in a comforting manner. "I'm sure he has a good explanation for it."

"I doubt it. Y'know, these days, it seems like he's trying to stay as far away from me as possible," said Susan, sighing. "He's always finding ways to get away from me, and when he doesn't have an excuse, he just gets up and leaves…"

"I say you go after him," suggested Edmund. "You love him, he loves you! If the bloody coward is too scared to admit his feelings, then I say you hunt him down and drag it out of him!"

"Edmund, you idiot!" screeched Lucy, this time smacking him on the head. "You weren't supposed to say anything!"

"What are you talking about?" asked Susan, eyes now wide in confusion. She turned to her younger sister, awaiting an explanation. "Lucy…did you tell Edmund?"

"I'm sorry!" Lucy blurted out, grasping her sister's hand apologetically. "I didn't mean to! Edmund came into my room; Peter told him that he's in love with you! I was so excited; I just had to tell him that you felt the same way!"

"Wait, what? He…feels the same?" she gasped, her heart freezing for just a moment.

"Oh, good going Lucy!" said Edmund, crossing his arms. "You basically told her the entire thing!"

"You're one to talk! You started it!" retorted the younger sibling.

"Yes, well…it's not nice to point fingers!" he replied in defense.

"Quiet, you two!" said Susan. "Edmund…did Peter…d-did he really say that h-he's in love with…me?"

Edmund nodded. "He told me this afternoon; that's why you found me in his room earlier. Susan, he's absolutely head-over-heels in love with you; so much, that it pains him to just be in your very presence. He really loves you" He felt almost guilty telling her this; Peter had entrusted him with his greatest secret, and in less than a day, he had already told Lucy and Susan. Plus, he had denied Peter the right to confess his feelings in his own time, which he had refused to deny to Susan, even as he had watched his brother practically cry because he thought that they could never be.

"I have to find him," said Susan, suddenly sitting up. "Lucy, Edmund, stay here until the party ends and if Peter and I aren't here when everyone leaves, it's up to you two to say the formal goodbyes and whatnot. If anyone asks for us…I dunno, tell them we had unexpected business to attend to." And with that said, she hurried to the doors and left the room.

The remaining two Pevensies looked at each other in confusion. "Does this mean that…" began Edmund.

"…Susan is going to confess her feelings?" finished Lucy, a small smile now making its way onto her face. "Yes, I think so."

"Finally!" he scoffed. "Our plan worked! Sorta…"

"Well, it didn't end up the way we had intended to. They were supposed to dance together, confess their feelings, and maybe kiss; it's going in the same order I suppose, just not as quickly."

"Yes, well, slow and steady wins the race," quoted Edmund.

"Let's hope you're right," replied Lucy.

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Peter hurriedly left the ball room, silently berating himself for what he had almost done. "Idiot!" he hissed, angrily clenching his fists. 'I can't believe I almost told her!' he thought. Unclenching his fists, he breathed deeply, taking in several calming breathes. He needed to let out some steam, and as he recalled, several of the troops had offered to spar with him if the ball became too boring. Deciding that a swordfight would do him some good, he began the long trek up the stairs to his room.

It was quiet in the castle as he made his way up the stairs, and he relished in the ability to be alone, away from everyone, away from Susan. It was as he was passing the seventh floor that his peace and quiet was interrupted, the sound of hurried footsteps coming in quickly behind him.

"Peter! Wait up!"

The High King inwardly groaned and quickened his pace, choosing to ignore the eager Susan following in his wake. He could hear her following him, running to catch up, and he practically flew up the remaining three stairways to his bedroom. Running through the door, he promptly shut and locked it.

"Peter, open the door," she said, knocking lightly against the wood.

Yet again, he chose to ignore her and changed into clothes more appropriate for training. As he strapped his sword to his side, Susan's banging became more insistent, and he wondered how he'd get out of the castle without her following. He looked to his balcony, contemplating the idea of scaling down the castle walls.

"Susan, please stop knocking on my door," he said, as he walked out onto the balcony and looked down. He frowned as he saw that there were no vines or ropes he could use to climb down, and at the top floor of the castle, it was impossible for him to jump.

"I want to speak with you," she said.

"Whatever it is that you want to say can be said through the doors," he replied, returning inside.

"No, Peter. I cannot say it without fear of someone overhearing us. Please, let me in," she begged.

Back inside the room, Peter let out a heavy sigh, running a calloused hand through his golden locks. He had no choice but to let her in and say what she needed to say, and hopefully, she'd let him go. He only hoped that whatever it is that she needed to speak with him about had nothing to do with him walking out on her at the ball. Taking a deep, calming breathe, Peter unlocked the door and let her in.

"You wanted to say something?" he asked, his voice monotone so as to appear detached and uninterested. Susan looked and him and then at the bed, silently asking if they could sit down. Peter nodded and motioned for her to sit, and she took a seat at the foot of his bed, waiting for him to sit beside her. However, instead of sitting on the bed, Peter took a seat on the armchair beside the window, a good three or four feet away from her.

Susan bit her lip nervously; Peter was acting unusually distant right now. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words would come, and she closed it a second later, unable to say a thing. The queen looked away from her older "brother," not quite sure how to bring up the subject of their relationship. "Peter…may I ask you a question?" she finally asked.

"You just did," he said, boredly. "But you may ask another."

Susan frowned at Peter's apparent disinterest, but let it go. She knew why he was acting the way he was – or at least she hoped she knew the reason. "How do you feel about me?" she questioned, earning herself a blush from Peter.

The High King could feel the heat rise in his cheeks at her question and he quickly looked away, hoping to hide his embarrassment. He let out a soft cough to clear his throat and answered, "Well…you're my sister, and I care for you deeply. I think you are very intelligent and mature, if not a little hot-headed every once in a while." At this, Susan gave him an indignant look, but he ignored her and continued on. "I think you are…pretty…and you're a wonderful queen."

"Is that all you think of me?" she asked. "Nothing more?" she insisted.

"Well, uhh…" he stuttered, unsure of what to say.

"Do you love me, Peter?" asked Susan, her question shocking not only Peter, but herself. 'What is wrong with me? Why am I being so…blunt?' she wondered.

"Of…of course! You're my sister!" he hastily answered, surprised by her question. This was not what he had expected her to ask. "We grew up together, Susan! How could I not?"

Yes, but…do you love me?" she asked again. She wanted to know if he really felt the same, to hear the words "I love you" from him and to have it mean something more than familial love. She wanted to know if he truly loved her, as she loved him.

"Susan, I don't know what you're getting at, but we should not be talking about such things. Love…true love…that is reserved for two people who are not related," said Peter, hoping to end the discussion there.

"Yes, I suppose," said Susan. "But we are not related, so there's no harm talking about such things."

"What do you mean we're not related?" asked Peter, suddenly afraid of where this subject was going. "I am your brother, and you are my sister."

"Yes, but we share no direct relation, or blood; you were adopted, Peter, so for us, brother and sister…those are just titles," Susan stated.

"Who told you I was adopted?" asked Peter, clenching his fists angrily as he thought of Edmund; no doubt he was the one who told her. "None of you are supposed to know that."

"Lucy told me," answered Susan. "She overheard Mum and Dad talking about it a long time ago."

"Oh," he said, rather dumbly, feeling rather silly for getting angry at Edmund.

"Peter, look at me," said Susan, and the king hesitantly obeyed. "I'm going to ask you again; do you love me?"

He felt his mouth suddenly go dry, and he anxiously licked his lips, in a vain attempt to remoisten them. He knew, looking at her, that he could not lie to her face, and so he wittingly said, "I…cannot answer that. But I will say this; I feel…certain emotions for you that I should not."

Susan's heart fluttered at this; it was basically an indirect confession of his love for her, and she restrained herself from walking over and kissing him out of pure joy. But despite her happiness, she couldn't help but feel slightly annoyed at his reluctance to tell her how he felt. "Peter, just tell me how you feel," she said.

"I can't," he answered, looking away.

"Why not?"

"Because I can't!"

"Why can't you?" she asked again, standing up. "Why can't you tell me how you feel? Is it because you're in love with me, and are afraid of what everyone will think?" she cried, stepping forward so that she was directly in front of him.

"Susan! I-I…" he stammered, as he too stood up. He looked down at her, trying to find the right words to say, but nothing came to mind. With a huff, he pushed past her and walked out of the room, praying to Aslan that she would not follow. Luck was not on his side as Susan stormed after him, and he knew he could not get away.

"I know how you really feel about me!" she shouted after him, and he stopped dead in his tracks.

"And how do I feel about you?" he asked quietly.

"You love me!" she said, extremely frustrated by the situation. She didn't mean to be so straightforward, but he was getting away from her—again—and she would not stand for it any longer. "What I don't know though, is why you just won't tell me yourself! I have to find out from some other person! Why is that, Peter? Are you afraid that I won't feel the same? Or maybe, you're afraid that I might actually feel the same way about you!"

"Do you?" he asked, turning back to face her.

Susan was taken aback by the question, but answered, "I feel certain emotions for you that I shouldn't." Her words echoed Peter's earlier statement, and his eyes shot wide in surprise. Did this mean that she loved him? He gave her a confused look, his brow scrunched in uncertainty.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

"What do you think it means?" she asked sternly. He gave her a blank look, and she threw her hands up in frustration. "Are you serious?" she cried, dumbfounded by Peter's inability to understand what she was telling him. "How did I ever fall in love with a fool like you?" she asked, more to herself than Peter. Was he really that naïve to think that she didn't feel the same? To her, it was a simple question, but to Peter, the word's held a different meaning.

"I'd never fall in love with you," was what Peter heard, and in that moment, his entire world came crashing down. 'She doesn't feel the same,' he thought, and he swallowed hard to keep from falling apart right in front of her. Taking a deep breathe, he turned back around and continued to walk away.

"I completely understand," he said, as he quickly made his way down the stairwell.

Susan watched him go, bewildered by his sudden departure. "Wait, Peter! Where are you going? What do you mean you understand? You understand what?" But he only ignored her and kept on walking, soon disappearing from view. She stood in the hallways for a minute or two, trying to figure what had just happened, soon realizing that Peter must've taken her words the wrong way. Understanding what that meant, she hastily ran after him, hoping that he was still in the castle.

As she came to the ground level, she was surprised to see that all the guests were leaving, escorted out by a troop of palace guards. Looking around, she tried to find someone who could tell her what was going on, spotting Orion running past the corner.

"Orion!" she called out, and the old faun stopped to speak with her.

"Yes, my lady?" he asked, sounding out of breath.

"What's going on? The ball isn't scheduled to end for another two hours," she said.

"A group of scouts was attacked by the Witch's army up north; only one soldier survived. He just arrived here, and says that their army is poised to strike, and that they plan to take the north and then sweep down upon the country, all the way to the southern borders. We must get the nobles out of Narnia before the first attacks begin. We've got our men in the north already making preparations for retaliation, and King Peter has decided to take reinforcements up tomorrow morning."

"Peter's leaving? Where is he now?"

"He's in the war room with the generals and your other siblings making some last minute plans," he said.

"Thank you for the information, Orion," she said, rushing to the war room. Unfortunately for her, it was on the other side of the castle, and by the time she arrived, she was gasping for breath. "Are we going to war?" she wheezed, in between coughs and hacks.

"Yes," said Peter, glancing at her as she took a seat. "Tomorrow, I will ride to the east with a small guard and gather the troops there. We will then ride north to aid our men in the fight. Hopefully, we'll be able to stop the Witch's army there before it can get any further. While I'm gone, Edmund is in charge of Cair Paravel's defense. Also, I want Oreius to remain behind with him and act as his advisor and—"

"Wait, hold on!" shouted Susan, regaining her breath. "You mean you're going by yourself? Whenever you've gone to battle before, it was with Edmund or Oreius by your side. You'll be killed if you go alone!"

"I'm not going alone," he said. "I'll have at least fifteen men with me when I ride to the eastern fort and more than two thousand soldiers when we go to the north, where we'll meet up with another two thousand fighters. I hardly think I'll be alone, but it's nice to know that you care." He said that last part almost bitterly and Susan knew that he was probably still upset about earlier.

"Of course I care!" she shouted, glaring at him. "I don't know what you think I said earlier but—"

"Now is not the time to talk about that," interjected Peter. "We have a lot of planning to do. Now, why don't you and Lucy run off and get ready for bed. We'll be up late, so need to stay up for Edmund or me."

"I want to stay!" protested Lucy. "I can help!"

"Lucy, please," said Peter, gently. The youngest Pevensie huffed in annoyance but nodded in consent, standing up and kissing her brothers goodnight.

"Don't stay up too late," she said. "C'mon, Susan. Let the men handle this. Come to my chambers when you're done changing; I want to talk to you" She waved goodbye and left the room, Susan standing up to follow.

"Goodnight everyone," she said. There was a chorus of "Goodnight, you're Majesty," as she headed out the door, but she was stopped by Peter as she was halfway through.

"I'll be gone by the time you wake up," he said. "So…goodbye, stay safe, and although you're the oldest after me, Edmund is charge while I'm gone, so please do as he says."

"Yes, Peter," she said curtly, leaving the room feeling quite angry at the High King for his behavior. How could he get "I don't love you" from "How did I ever fall in love with you"? She sighed in aggravation; sometimes, he could be so dim-witted!

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"There, there, Susan," said Lucy softly, patting her older sister's back as she cried into her shoulder. "I'm sure Peter doesn't really think that you don't love him."

"No! Peter does think that I don't love him, and now he's going to war with the idea that I don't care about him! He could die, Lucy! And then what? He'll never know how I feel about him!"

"Well, why didn't you just tell him when you had the chance?" asked the younger queen. "You could have told him earlier."

"I was going to!" Susan cried, clutching at her sister tighter. "But then the misunderstandings and whatever…I never got the opportunity! I kept hinting at it, and it was so obvious! I just was never able to actually say it!"

"It's okay, don't worry. Tell Peter when he gets back."

"But could die!"

"He won't die," assured Lucy. "He's strong, and has never been defeated in battle. Besides, we've beaten the Witch's army before; what could possibly go wrong?"

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The next morning, when it was still dark, Susan awoke to the sounds of horses, and she rushed to the balcony just in time to see Peter and his guards ride off. "Be safe, Peter," she whispered. "I love you."