Photograph
Title: Photograph
Fandom: Chronicles of Narnia
Pairing: Peter/Susan
Rating: PG
Summary: Susan remembers her brother, Peter. Part of the 30_kisses challenge; theme #14 - Radio-Cassette Player; Contains spoilers for The Last Battle
Disclaimer: Yes, this is incest. Don't read if you don't like. Don't bash unless you like to be bashed. And this is in no way inspired by Nickelback. *whistles*
A/N: 1) Flashbacks noted by * thingies and italics. 2) This one was very...interesting to write. The theme was really difficult. Grrr. Anywho, I hope you like!
The picture in Susan Pevensie's hands was old and faded, black and white, and quite looked as if it would crumble at any second. She had had this picture for twenty-nine years. It was the only one she had of him.
Peter.
Her friend, her lover, her brother.
The only person she would ever love.
But he was gone now. He had been gone for several years. All that she had left of him was this old ready-to-crumble photograph.
Thoughts of him distracted her while she was at work, while she was grocery shopping, while she was talking with someone else...
But it was only after she came home, shut the curtains, turned on her radio-cassette player, and settled herself in a chair by the fire with a large brandy in her hand that Susan allowed herself to cry over him.
And then she would drift off into a troubled sleep, haunted by him.
Her fingers traced along the edges of the photograph, and she realized just how handsome her brother had been. The photograph didn't do him justice, but looking at it helped her to remember his deep blue eyes, his soft blonde hair, the smile that lit him up from the inside out...
*
"You know," said a familiar voice, and Susan looked up crossly. Peter was walking toward her throne, a twinkle in his eye.
"Yes?" she said.
"You should smile more often."
"I smile plenty," she replied, "just not when you're going off to hunt and leaving me here by myself."
Peter rolled his eyes. "Lucy's here with you, isn't she? And you don't see her complaining about Ed and I leaving for two weeks, do you?"
"Just because she keeps her complaints to herself doesn't mean that I will," said Susan, standing up from her throne.
"Well, maybe if you smiled more often I'd stay!" he yelled after her as she stormed away from him.
*
It was amazing, how beautiful he looked. But it only reminded Susan of the fact that she, herself, was getting old. Her black hair was streaked with grey, her face was full of wrinkles, and her hearing was starting to go.
How she wished she could be with him now, young and in love, instead of by herself, old and bitter.
She sighed and lifted the bottle of brandy to her lips. The liquid burned her throat as it went down, but Susan was so accustomed to this that she barely felt it. The orange flames from the fire cackled violently, drowning out the music she had playing.
Peter, she thought, and tears began to well in her eyes. They rolled down her cheeks one by one, scratching and tickling her face. She tried to keep herself from looking down at the photograph in her hand, but she was unable to stop herself.
She choked on a sob. Oh, how tall he had been, and brave and true. Oh, how he had taken her breath away with one glance, one smile, one sparkle of his eyes.
His mere presence had been enough to shatter her world and complete it all at once. Logic and reason faded away, and nothing else mattered. Everything had been warmer, gentler when they were together.
*
"Susan?" His voice echoed throughout the darkness, and Susan sat up in bed to see her brother standing at her doorway.
"What is it, Peter?" she said groggily.
"Ed and I are leaving now," said he.
"But it's the middle of the night!" she exclaimed.
"Hush!" he said, whispering. "We're trying not to wake Lucy."
Susan grinned. "But I thought you said Lucy didn't care about the two of you leaving?"
"That's because she only thought I was leaving. When she found out Ed was going too, she...er, well, she definitely made a scene."
"I see."
Peter cleared his throat. "Yes, well, I'm off..." His voice trailed off, as if he expected her to protest.
Susan sighed and climbed out of her bed and walked over to him. "You and Ed have a splendid time. Lucy and I shall be just fine here. At least you aren't riding out to battle."
She kissed his cheek and gave him a quick hug, then watched him leave, an ache in her chest.
*
That ache was constant now, and there was nothing Susan could do to rid herself of it.
She wiped her eyes and tried to push all thoughts of Peter to the back of her mind, for now the memories were becoming too much to handle. How she wished that she could forget him, forget all the times they had shared.
How she wished she could put him out of her mind forever. Perhaps then she wouldn't be drinking away her sorrow. Perhaps then she would be able to find another man to hold, to carress, to love.
Perhaps then she could live again.
*
"Oh, Su! Su!" cried Lucy, tugging at Susan's arm and pulling her outside. "They're back, they're back!"
When they had run down all the steps of the castle, Lucy stopped abruptly. Susan bumped into her, then giggled in apology. At last she followed her sister's gaze and what she saw made her heart race.
Peter and Edmund were galloping toward the castle at full speed. Susan picked up her skirts and ran out to meet them, her sister at her heels.
When they got close, the boys came down from their horses and stood with waiting arms.
Susan got rid of the distance between herself and Peter by launching herself at him. "Oof!" she heard him groan, as he stumbled back to keep himself from falling over. Her legs closed around his waist and his arms wrapped around her.
"That was the longest two weeks of my life," she confessed breathlessly, as she covered his face with quick kisses. "I'm so glad you're back!"
"Obviously," Peter said, setting her down and holding her close.
Susan smiled up at him, and didn't know how she had ever gotten through two weeks without him.
*
Eighteen years. Eighteen years she had been without Peter now, and she couldn't stand it. She hated being without him, and she hated him for leaving her, and she hated herself for not being able to move on.
Susan downed the rest of the brandy and threw it into the fireplace angrily. The flames thickened and crackled louder than ever, but she didn't care. She cared about nothing anymore.
Swallowing hard, she stood up and walked over to the fireplace. She stared hopelessly at the photograph of her brother and then, crying softly, held it over the flames. They ate away at the photograph, at Peter's hair and face and smile...
Susan's body shook uncontrollably as she let go of him forever.
For hours she must have stood there, just watching the fire, for finally the flames grew smaller and smaller. When it died out completely, Susan collapsed into her chair.
The photograph of him was destroyed, the fire was gone, and she no longer had any more brandy.
The only thing she had left was the music playing from the radio-cassette player.
Susan closed her eyes, and for the first time in many years, slept peacefully.
A/N Again: If anyone can guess correctly how old Susan is in this fic, I will dedicate a fic to you! Trust me, you can do the math and figure it out if you paid attention (and if you look at some timelines on Narnia sites). ;)
The full table of all the Peter/Susan fics I've written (and will write in the future for 30_kisses) can be found HERE! ♥
Fandom: Chronicles of Narnia
Pairing: Peter/Susan
Rating: PG
Summary: Susan remembers her brother, Peter. Part of the 30_kisses challenge; theme #14 - Radio-Cassette Player; Contains spoilers for The Last Battle
Disclaimer: Yes, this is incest. Don't read if you don't like. Don't bash unless you like to be bashed. And this is in no way inspired by Nickelback. *whistles*
A/N: 1) Flashbacks noted by * thingies and italics. 2) This one was very...interesting to write. The theme was really difficult. Grrr. Anywho, I hope you like!
The picture in Susan Pevensie's hands was old and faded, black and white, and quite looked as if it would crumble at any second. She had had this picture for twenty-nine years. It was the only one she had of him.
Peter.
Her friend, her lover, her brother.
The only person she would ever love.
But he was gone now. He had been gone for several years. All that she had left of him was this old ready-to-crumble photograph.
Thoughts of him distracted her while she was at work, while she was grocery shopping, while she was talking with someone else...
But it was only after she came home, shut the curtains, turned on her radio-cassette player, and settled herself in a chair by the fire with a large brandy in her hand that Susan allowed herself to cry over him.
And then she would drift off into a troubled sleep, haunted by him.
Her fingers traced along the edges of the photograph, and she realized just how handsome her brother had been. The photograph didn't do him justice, but looking at it helped her to remember his deep blue eyes, his soft blonde hair, the smile that lit him up from the inside out...
*
"You know," said a familiar voice, and Susan looked up crossly. Peter was walking toward her throne, a twinkle in his eye.
"Yes?" she said.
"You should smile more often."
"I smile plenty," she replied, "just not when you're going off to hunt and leaving me here by myself."
Peter rolled his eyes. "Lucy's here with you, isn't she? And you don't see her complaining about Ed and I leaving for two weeks, do you?"
"Just because she keeps her complaints to herself doesn't mean that I will," said Susan, standing up from her throne.
"Well, maybe if you smiled more often I'd stay!" he yelled after her as she stormed away from him.
*
It was amazing, how beautiful he looked. But it only reminded Susan of the fact that she, herself, was getting old. Her black hair was streaked with grey, her face was full of wrinkles, and her hearing was starting to go.
How she wished she could be with him now, young and in love, instead of by herself, old and bitter.
She sighed and lifted the bottle of brandy to her lips. The liquid burned her throat as it went down, but Susan was so accustomed to this that she barely felt it. The orange flames from the fire cackled violently, drowning out the music she had playing.
Peter, she thought, and tears began to well in her eyes. They rolled down her cheeks one by one, scratching and tickling her face. She tried to keep herself from looking down at the photograph in her hand, but she was unable to stop herself.
She choked on a sob. Oh, how tall he had been, and brave and true. Oh, how he had taken her breath away with one glance, one smile, one sparkle of his eyes.
His mere presence had been enough to shatter her world and complete it all at once. Logic and reason faded away, and nothing else mattered. Everything had been warmer, gentler when they were together.
*
"Susan?" His voice echoed throughout the darkness, and Susan sat up in bed to see her brother standing at her doorway.
"What is it, Peter?" she said groggily.
"Ed and I are leaving now," said he.
"But it's the middle of the night!" she exclaimed.
"Hush!" he said, whispering. "We're trying not to wake Lucy."
Susan grinned. "But I thought you said Lucy didn't care about the two of you leaving?"
"That's because she only thought I was leaving. When she found out Ed was going too, she...er, well, she definitely made a scene."
"I see."
Peter cleared his throat. "Yes, well, I'm off..." His voice trailed off, as if he expected her to protest.
Susan sighed and climbed out of her bed and walked over to him. "You and Ed have a splendid time. Lucy and I shall be just fine here. At least you aren't riding out to battle."
She kissed his cheek and gave him a quick hug, then watched him leave, an ache in her chest.
*
That ache was constant now, and there was nothing Susan could do to rid herself of it.
She wiped her eyes and tried to push all thoughts of Peter to the back of her mind, for now the memories were becoming too much to handle. How she wished that she could forget him, forget all the times they had shared.
How she wished she could put him out of her mind forever. Perhaps then she wouldn't be drinking away her sorrow. Perhaps then she would be able to find another man to hold, to carress, to love.
Perhaps then she could live again.
*
"Oh, Su! Su!" cried Lucy, tugging at Susan's arm and pulling her outside. "They're back, they're back!"
When they had run down all the steps of the castle, Lucy stopped abruptly. Susan bumped into her, then giggled in apology. At last she followed her sister's gaze and what she saw made her heart race.
Peter and Edmund were galloping toward the castle at full speed. Susan picked up her skirts and ran out to meet them, her sister at her heels.
When they got close, the boys came down from their horses and stood with waiting arms.
Susan got rid of the distance between herself and Peter by launching herself at him. "Oof!" she heard him groan, as he stumbled back to keep himself from falling over. Her legs closed around his waist and his arms wrapped around her.
"That was the longest two weeks of my life," she confessed breathlessly, as she covered his face with quick kisses. "I'm so glad you're back!"
"Obviously," Peter said, setting her down and holding her close.
Susan smiled up at him, and didn't know how she had ever gotten through two weeks without him.
*
Eighteen years. Eighteen years she had been without Peter now, and she couldn't stand it. She hated being without him, and she hated him for leaving her, and she hated herself for not being able to move on.
Susan downed the rest of the brandy and threw it into the fireplace angrily. The flames thickened and crackled louder than ever, but she didn't care. She cared about nothing anymore.
Swallowing hard, she stood up and walked over to the fireplace. She stared hopelessly at the photograph of her brother and then, crying softly, held it over the flames. They ate away at the photograph, at Peter's hair and face and smile...
Susan's body shook uncontrollably as she let go of him forever.
For hours she must have stood there, just watching the fire, for finally the flames grew smaller and smaller. When it died out completely, Susan collapsed into her chair.
The photograph of him was destroyed, the fire was gone, and she no longer had any more brandy.
The only thing she had left was the music playing from the radio-cassette player.
Susan closed her eyes, and for the first time in many years, slept peacefully.
A/N Again: If anyone can guess correctly how old Susan is in this fic, I will dedicate a fic to you! Trust me, you can do the math and figure it out if you paid attention (and if you look at some timelines on Narnia sites). ;)
The full table of all the Peter/Susan fics I've written (and will write in the future for 30_kisses) can be found HERE! ♥