Author's Note: This is basically a "behind the scenes" look at 'Prince Caspian'. It's all the things that we didn't get to see within the movie. It also gives an explanation for a lot of what happened in the movie that didn't really make sense. In my opinion, this actually does a better job of explaining the movie than the movie did explaining itself! haha. It will very closely follow the movie's timeline, so be sure to keep that in mind. Obviously, moviecanon!

A Place For Us

Chapter 1: The Return

And just like that they were back. The salty sea air tasted light and tangy in her mouth. She barely had a chance to breathe it all in, to take a step and feel the sand crumbling under her school shoes… Peter gasped beside her. Was she dreaming again? His body radiated energy from beside her and she could feel the invisible chains edging round once again. He was heavy and imposing as he stood so very close, she didn't like it one bit. Everything was changed. Lucy stepped out next to her, and before even looking down into her little sister's face, Susan knew what she would find. The smile was infectious and its result welcome.

Lucy reminded her of happiness, what was really at the heart of this change. Giggling, Lucy grabbed her hand and Susan happily followed. They ran towards the clear blue water, their shoes and socks littering the path behind them. Susan heard Ed and Peter not far behind them and soon they were all splashing about in the surprisingly warm basin. Laughter echoed around them and a lightheartedness swelled within her at the sound, such relief and contentment she had been deprived for so long… After thinking they would never have this chance, after stonily resolving herself to a certain and precise existence…she was really here again.

They hiked up the hillside, he threw Lucy an apple, Susan's bare feet felt free in the overgrown grass among the ruins. She knew what he wanted, could feel his gaze at her back, but she couldn't. That was all.

Peter walked away to explore a bit more and her sigh of relief threatened to be a sob. Lucy bounced up to see the view. A glint of gold hidden underneath the overgrown weeds caught Susan's eye.

"I wonder who lived here," Lucy mused aloud.

The familiarity of the weighted figurine in her hand was too strong to deny.

"I think we did," she replied.

As soon as the words left her mouth, a sense of dread flooded her body, the same that had crept upon her before in the cave. The moment she realized where they truly were.

Peter and Edmund were talking, she didn't really hear, and then Lucy was pulling him somewhere. Standing on their ruined throne, gazing out into what was once the magnificent and loved hall that they spent so many years in, Susan heard his awed whisper.

"Cair Paravel."

She couldn't. Not again.

"Peter!" she heard Lucy call, the sound muffled by the door between them. Susan assumed her sister had come back in search of the eldest brother who promised to play with her outside. When Lucy called again, with a tinge of annoyance in her tone, she knew she was right. Deciding to ignore them altogether, as she had been working so diligently to do these last three weeks, Susan delved back into her book from where she laid curled on the bay window seat. It was a temperate, cloudy day, but not so much as to encourage the other Pevensie's to keep indoors. The glass pane was cool on her forehead as she leaned against it. Edmund on the ground outside caught her attention and she watched for a moment as he ran across the yard looking for the ball he dropped.

It all hurt so much.

Three weeks they had been back. Three weeks since Susan lost everything she held dear. Three weeks since their lives were irrevocably changed and hardened. They were back in the Professor's house, having resumed their lives as though nothing of importance had occurred. Living as though they were children, not adults trapped in the bodies of younglings. Susan was twenty-seven years old and though some of the memories faded, they refused to diminish. On the outside looking in, she was a solemn young girl of twelve, and on the inside looking out, she was a woman screaming.

Forget. That was all she could tell herself. Forget and you'll heal. Forget and the pain will vanish. For how can you ache and grieve for something you no longer remember?

She knew he was coming to see her before the doorknob even turned. Footsteps fell on the hardwood floor.

"Will you join us?" he asked quietly.

Having already prepared the answer, she shook her head. "Not today."

Not today, not yesterday, or the day before that, or tomorrow. The same as it had been every day and he would leave, not knowing what to do otherwise.

The first few days back, all four of them stumbled around in a state of stupor – not quite sure what to expect, how to adjust. Then Lucy was the first to break out of it. "It'll be alright," she told them. "We'll go back someday." Susan didn't believe her. How could she? Edmund smiled and hugged Lucy in gratitude, and over time, gradually, they began to be Ed and Lu again – bickering, teasing, and playing. Children.

How desperately she wanted the same.

Peter didn't leave after she turned down the habitual offer. Not hearing the expected click of the door closing, Susan looked up curiously. He still stood there, in the middle of the room, arms folded across his chest in a posture she knew intimately. The arms used to be thicker, stronger, and the chest was broader, filling out his tunic flawlessly. He was a boy – not the man she loved, the man she married, the man she spent fifteen years of unparalleled happiness with – just a boy.

"Don't do this, Susan," he said, his voice cracked over her name.

She didn't answer, why would she? He tried talking to her before, only to have her stop him in his tracks. No more, was what she said, it cannot be. There were tears and pleading, but to no avail. It wasn't her choice, she said. It was what was handed to them – she had no more power or control over it than he. The life they knew was lost, as was their love. To Susan's relief and utter heartache, he didn't speak of it again after that night.

"Don't leave me like this," he said, but she had already turned back to the window. Edmund had disappeared below and the spot where she had rested her forehead turned unpleasantly warm and sticky.

"Just go, Peter," she said tiredly.

The book was heavy in her lap, but she didn't move it.

"Why won't you look at me?" he demanded.

She didn't answer at first. After a long pause, and he waited for it, she said, "It shames me to see your face." The hollow deadness in her voice was frightening, even to herself. "Is that what you need? Will that help? Tell me what to say for you to let go and I will say it."

"Stop it!" he cried and stormed over to her, hands on her shoulders. "Just stop! It doesn't have to be this way, Su. We could figure something out – I can fix this. You can't just throw away-"

Susan twisted out of his hold and pushed him back, getting to her feet. The book dropped to the floor with a dull clunk. "This isn't something you can fix, Peter! We're not who we once were and this is not the same world. Look at us! How old we are…brother and sister…we're disgusting!"

"DON'T YOU DARE SAY THAT TO ME!" he roared savagely, and she involuntarily flinched in response. The deafening sound pierced her very being, causing her insides to roll in a way that made her want to cry and scream at the same time. There was a vacancy in her eyes as she watched his entire being trembled with rage and for a moment she almost believed he might strike her.

For a moment, she wished he would.

But he would never stoop to such a thing, no matter how deserving it was, and Susan damned him for it. "It's true and you know it as well as I do. You know what would happen to us if we were to continue! It cannot be! This isn't Narnia! That time is over for us. Just because you don't want to face the reality of-"

"Don't talk to me about reality, Susan," he cut her off irately and took a deep, constrained breath. She could see how hard he was working to remain in control. "I know it will be different, more difficult, but you're my wife, my Queen, and I need you." The sternness of his voice faded and it became a plea, "I don't care for the worlds or the age. None of it matters. I just need you."

She chuckled bitterly. "Queen? I believe you're mistaken…brother. There is no Queen here. It's high time you realized that and stopped pestering me on the matter."

"Pestering you?" he echoed in disbelief and took a step back as though she had physically dealt him a blow. The hardening that overcame his young face stung her deeply. With that one step, he reverted into her sibling and her lover vanished. "My apologies. I didn't realize I had become such a nuisance."

She sucked in a breath at the acrid edge in his voice.

"Well, I won't be of a bother to you any longer. We'll be outside if you change your mind."

And then he left and it was as though he took every ounce of strength she had with him. Shakily, Susan grappled for the window seat and collapsed onto the cushion. Edmund's voice filtered through the glass and she saw him shouting towards the house. The clouds had rolled back and the sun shone across the grounds, bringing out the rich, eternal greens and yellows of summer. Lucy came out like a shot, flying over the grass as quickly as her short little legs would take her. Susan reached up to press her finger against the pane; lightly she traced the outline of her young sister. Ed chased after her as she got further away, and then Peter stepped into view. His stride was slow and purposeful, with his head raised as he watched the younger two circle a nearby oak. His fair hair shone in the sunlight, a sight she had seen too many times to count and was no less breathtaking. She wept.

It was not in that silent way, with soundless tears and soft shudders, as you hold it in your throat till it aches. No. Susan bawled uncontrollably, her body convulsed with each wracking sob as it was ripped from her heart. The tears soaked her cheeks in an endless waterfall, staining her sleeves as she tried to wipe them away. After a while, she gave up trying and the salty liquid fell onto her collar. She cried until it hurt, and then cried even more. She cried until there were no more tears, and it became a dry heaving of harrowed sounds. With every hiccup, you knew how much agony it brought. If there had been anyone else in that house, just the very sound the heartrending cries would have brought them to tears as well. As it was, the house was empty, and Susan was alone.

She went to bed without a word to the others, refusing supper, and when Lucy crawled in to sleep, Susan kept her back to her, feigning slumber. Surely her sister would know what the puffy face and red rimmed eyes meant – and no one was to know that. Soon after the candle was extinguished, Lucy's breathing evened and Susan knew she had fallen asleep. Yet, sleep would not come for herself. After waiting for what felt like hours, the raven haired girl rose from the bed, slowly, so as not to wake her sister. She put her feet in the slippers that were placed at the side for convenience and snatched her robe from a nearby chair. In the dark, she walked down the carpeted hallway, tying the knot around her waist. Without conceiving a destination, she suddenly found herself there.

The door creaked as she pushed and Susan winced at the echoing sound that threatened alert the rest of the household. Once inside, she closed it gently until there was a final click. Turning around, her heart nearly leapt out of her chest at the sight.

"Oh!" she gasped and then swallowed hard, cursing herself for letting him surprise her like that.

Peter was sitting in the middle of the barren room, on the wooden floor with a blanket over his lap and pillows surrounding him. A solitary candle was erected before him and the lonely light licked across his face. The dark, rectangular shadow of that abominable wardrobe loomed behind him.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed.

"I don't know," he replied with a useless shrug of his shoulders. Susan had no doubt he was lying. "Why are you here?"

Frowning at him, she struggled with the right response. "I couldn't sleep," she said warily.

He nodded, taking in her answer with some unknown comprehension, and gazed up at her expectantly.

"I better go," she said, having recognized the look and was determined to refuse it. "We're not supposed to be wandering about at this hour. Mrs. Macready will be rabid if she catches us."

At her first step backward, Peter spoke up. "You came here for a reason," he said. "Just…stay awhile."

Rearing back with a few more steps, she couldn't have him draw her in like that. It was too risky. "It's late, Peter. I'll see you morning."

"I miss you."

Susan felt those three words acutely and pervasively, they seized control. Unbidden, love rampaged through her body, tearing down everything and anything that stood in its way, every weak wall, leaving it all as a mass wreckage. Every agonizing bit she had been working so futilely to forget leapt forth, freed from its tentative prison.

She didn't know if it was because of the proximity to the wardrobe, the closest they could ever get to who they used to be, or if it was simply a fault of weakness on her part.

Just for one night.

Susan woke before he did, gathered her things, and left in the cold, gray light of morning, while Peter still slept. Turned on his side and curled to the empty space she previously occupied. She didn't cry when leaving him, not even when she crept back into the bed she shared with Lucy. There were no more tears to be had. The walls went up again, fortified with more strength than before. That was the only time they made love in that world.

Any time after, Susan feigned ignorance when Peter brought it up. She claimed not to know what he was talking about, such a thing never happened. She ignored Peter's persistent advances and rebuffed every plea. Some days he would be furious with her, others he would be inconsolable. Sometimes they didn't speak to each other for weeks, going so far as to avoid being in the same room.

It was hard on Lucy and Edmund, to have their two eldest siblings so divided, but they understood. Peter and Susan had been Narnia's golden couple, the entire country rejoiced at the news of their wedding. They were so much in love, inseparable, and utterly besought with happiness.

That wasn't to say they didn't argue, because they did, and often. Peter had a loose tongue and tended to make rash decisions before thinking things through. Susan was incomparably stubborn, valued logic above all else, and had no qualms about making her opinions known. They were two fierce persons that were destined to clash just as they were destined to love. At least that was what Lucy thought. She embraced their union adoringly, unable to fathom any other course for them – it was perfectly natural. Edmund battled more with his acceptance of Peter and Susan's relationship, but ultimately he supported them because they were happy, happier than he had ever known them to be. He would do anything to keep them that way – no one was more deserving than the High King and Queen who so tirelessly devoted themselves to the protection and wellbeing of their people. The youngest two were rendered helpless as they stood by, watching as their siblings sunk deeper and deeper into the torment.

Susan resumed her old ways, spending time with Edmund and Lucy. Laughing with them, playing games, and watching over them. She still fretted and fussed in her motherly way, driving Edmund mad, but Lucy had learned to appreciate the care. It surprised them how quickly she made the change, from being a recluse to acting like her old self again. Her twelve-year old self. With each passing day, it became easier to push the memories of Narnia away and feel like age their bodies told. They didn't forget, but with time they were able to separate themselves from the adults they used to be.

It would have been just like old times, if it were not for the division between Peter and Susan. They rarely spoke to each other, outside of polite chatter. Peter often took it upon himself to remove himself from the group if Susan were there. If Peter, Edmund, and Lucy were together, Susan would not join them. The vast alteration of their family dynamics was difficult to adjust to, but over time they became accustomed to the behavior and even expected it. And that's how it was.

Eleven months later, they returned.