Fic: I Wish Chapter 4 - Liver And Onions
Title: I Wish Chapter 4 - Liver And Onions
Rating: NC-17 (For later stuff)
Author: Rhion - the girl with rainbow hair!
Summery: I wish I was a ruler who who'd make them understand. I wish I was a stranger who understands the sky. Sequel to 'I Believe'.
Disclaimer: Me no own, you no Casue... wait.. I mean.. sue? Yeah sue. You no sue mees.
Feedback: Would be lovely.
AN: And let's get to some England stuff... While true no real time passes in England while Edmund and Lucy are in Narnia, they have been gone for a bit in England's time because of the walk to the art museum. Oh and for those who're wondering - because I didn't go into detail about it - HOW Ed and Luce got to Narnia this time - it's sorta the same as the book. They saw a painting, and got sucked in. No Eustace though, and it was at an art museum. I like my way better, that way I can focus on the relationships of the 4 Pevensies and their interactions, as well as the Pevensie/Caspian interactions. Bleh. Again this is totally unbeta'd. Any takers? I'm always finding mistakes... And word redundancies. Yeesh pet peeve alert, I hate that so much. Makes me wanna scream.
The smells from the kitchen were awful. Choking on a gag, Susan tried to make her way back to her room as suripticiously as possible before Peter - the only other one in the house at the moment - noticed her. Forgetting to sidestep that creaky board, it let out a terrible squeak. Freezing on the stairs, a hand pressed to her mouth, in a vain hope to keep in her last meal, Susan waited on baited breath, hoping against hope that Peter was too busy mutilating whatever the hell he was cooking. Minutes ticked by and Peter didn't come to check on the noise. With a sigh of relief Susan continued upstairs, with more caution this time.
Reaching the relative safety of her room, Susan went to lay down, the nausea of earlier almost forgotten. The bed was familiar but felt all wrong after so much of her mind's life had rested on the broad thick mattresses over woven leather supports of Narnian beds. Despite that Susan didn't bother taking off her shoes as she lay down, trying to get comfortable. It was difficult to not think, to not remember, but for the time being she was able to blank her mind as she stared at the ceiling with it's lemon cream paint.
Unfortunately it was inevitable that her fatigued body would remind her that she had to pee yet again. Grumbling as she rolled over, her hair in it's severe French braid that felt too tight, resting heavily at the nape of her neck, Susan gave herself a gentle heave to become vertical. Sometimes she hated Caspian for this, or Aslan for forcing her to leave. But mostly she was too tired to hate anything, to feel anything other than trepidation, fear, and worry. There was a heavy knock on her door, and Susan caught the scent of whatever monstrous creation Peter had been birthing like a mad scientist. Trying to only use shallow breaths, she straightened her appearance as much as she could. It wouldn't due to have Peter notice that she wasn't herself. He'd only try and fix it.
"Susan?" Peter opened the door, poking his head in, a distracted smile on his face.
Doing her best to return it, "Yes?"
The door opened the rest of the way, and Peter had a hand behind his back hiding something, "I was wondering how you're feeling today...?" Coming into her room, and pushing his shaggy bangs off his forehead, "Thought maybe you and I could do something together, I think it'd be good for us. Don't you?"
"I'm fine, but I feel rather tired," hoping she didn't look as green as she felt. "Maybe tomorrow."
Peter came even closer and the stench on him became even stronger if it were possible. He just grunted, his stormy blue eyes squinting as he studied her. "You haven't been eating."
"So? Is that what you wanted to do together?"
"Well, yes it did cross my mind. Dinner, a walk, some talking... You know, like we used to," he kept on moving towards her, and it took all of Susan's willpower to not flee or back away from him.
"I'm not really hungry Peter, I'm sorry."
Peter frowned, and brought out what he was hiding finally, offering it up, "But it's your favorite. Liver and onions. You can never resist it."
Barely glancing down at the plate in his hand, heavily laden with thick slices of liver covered in buttered onions, and Susan strangled on air. It looked disgusting. Panting as her body rebelled, Susan didn't even make it two steps before doubling over voiding the contents of her abused stomach.
"Oh god!" clutching her abdomen with one hand, the other lashed out knocking the offensive meal away from her. "Get that thing away from, urp, oh god," heaving once more.
"Su!" Peter dropped the plate, and put his arm around her trying to keep her upright.
Susan could feel Peter looking around for what to do, and then settled on carrying her to the bathroom. Even though the trip was short, it was far too bumpy for Susan who's body was so worn, just as frayed as her spirit. Water ran, the sound loud as Peter dampened a cloth to press the back of her neck, while she spit repeatedly into the porcelain bowl, wishing nothing more than for the burning to stop.
"It's alright Susan, I'm here," Peter crooned as he tended her with a gentleness that she hadn't even realized she missed.
Coughing as she got her body back under control, "I'm fine."
Sitting up, she allowed him to wipe her face clean, her bright blue eyes closed, just trying to maintain some kind of dignity after her display. How was she going to explain this?
"You know," he said absentmindedly, "the whole castle heard you two that night."
Susan's gaze snapped to him, but he wasn't looking at her directly, just watching his hand as he continued to ministraitions, "What?"
"At first I thought you were being murdered, but Edmund stopped me long enough for me to realize what was going on." Now he looked at her, his face sad and disappointed, "I almost kicked down the door anyway."
"You'd have no right to do that," cheeks flushing with irritation.
With a sigh, "Wouldn't I? Lucy was scared, she didn't understand what was going on, and for the second time I had to explain the birds and the bees to her. The first time was hard enough you know, when she hit puberty in Narnia. But doing it again - not fun Su." Watching as he levered himself up to wring out the washcloth and rinse it out then kneeling back down, "At first I was angry, hadn't Caspian taken enough from me? But it wasn't his fault, so I couldn't stay mad."
The texture on her face was rough, but Susan leaned into it anyway, just needing human contact, "Well I'm glad you see it my way. He..." stumbling when she realized she couldn't bring herself to utter his name, Susan felt a tear escape.
"I know Su, I know," as Peter tugged her into a hug, then got them standing again.
Leaning on him heavily as they walked down the hall again, bypassing her room with that disgusting smelling food in it, she found herself flopping on Peter's bed like when they were little. She felt so weak, so drained. Like all of her courage and strength had been sucked from her very soul and left behind.
"Do you think he's happy?" her voice cracked.
Peter paced, his hands clasped behind his back, staring down at the floor, "He probably had a good life, I'm sure Su."
Perking up to glare at him, "Had? Why..."
"Susan, it's been three months. More than three hundred years has passed in Narnia," he cut her off, "he's dead Susan. You're carrying a dead man's child. It'll be just like him - fatherless."
At that Susan bolted up, her fist winding back rocketing forward, to nail Peter so hard in the face his nose crunched beneath her hand, "Don't you say that! Don't!" Her voice climbed in octave and volume as she railed, "He's not dead! He can't be! He just can't!"
Peter was on the floor, shaking off the reaction to her strike, ignoring the trickle of blood coming from his nostril, "Susan, he's dead. You have to face that. The father of your child is dead." Susan's hand started to lash out for another punch, but Peter caught her wrists, yanking her into his arms, "But I won't let you or that baby die. I won't let life take anything else from you Susan."
Struggling in his arms, trying to fight off the anger and pain and soul rending that her heart was going through, "My life's nothing without him. It's stupid I know," banging her forehead on his shoulder. "But I have nothing of him Peter, nothing."
"Yes you do," resting his cheek on the crown of her head, "you have his love and the little piece of it he gave you before we left. I'll take care of you, like always Su. We all will."
Gulping, "What about Mum and Dad? What will we do?"
"We'll figure it out together. That little one will have all the love in the world. The best mother, and two uncles that will love him or her, and an aunt who'll always bring a smile for that child, Susan." Firm circles were being rubbed into her back as her shoulders shook, "We never will go back to Narnia, but you did something wonderful - you brought a piece of it back with us. And as angry as I was, and heartbroken too - I'll always be grateful that a piece of home will always be here. We'll get through this the same way we always do - together."
Sniffing, "How did you know anyway?"
"Well instead of being cranky only five days of the month, you were hell everyday instead," the chuckle sounded forced, but it was still a laugh. "That and you turned down liver and onions. I'll never be able to figure out why you like them so much, because frankly that's one of the most disgusting things I've ever had the poor luck to smell or taste for that matter, but you have for quite some time. It was the final give away. No actually, it was the whole throwing up on me. Even a death, dumb, mute, and blind man could figure that out."
"Do you think anyone else knows?"
"Edmund maybe," Susan submitted to the gentle rocking, even as it made her so very sleepy, "But maybe not."
Tilting her head back to look at him, wiping away the trail of blood over his lip, "I wish you hadn't been angry."
"Su, what would you have me do? You're my sister, and in my mind you're supposed to be kept innocent of all the base things that men do," giving her a smooch on the forehead.
Laughing weakly, "You never stopped me before when we were in Narnia."
"Not for lack of trying. I kept trying to get rid of all those men, but Edmund and Lucy kept conspiring against me. Otherwise alot of them would have wound up dead you know. My motto - kill them all for their filthy hands, and let Aslan sort the innocent out later."
"You know, he said something much like that," starting to face the memories.
"Oh?"
"Yes, he threatened to start wars with all the kingdoms that we dealt with while we ruled," hugging Peter, who as bullheaded as he could be, was still her rock.
"I always knew I liked that boy," this time his laugh was genuine.
They stayed like that for long minutes, just trying to weather the storm, and both feeling more alive than they had in quite some time. Yawning as she started to feel too sleepy to keep standing, "Peter, one question though."
"Hmm?"
"It's been bugging me for a long time. Why did you fight Miraz? Why not let Caspian do it?"
"I'd never forgive him if he left you Susan, that's why. His anger would have made him blind to the fact that he wasn't invincible," he sounded caught off guard, but recovered quickly, "And I wouldn't have been able to forgive myself either. Ah the folly of the young."
To that they both pulled back, laughing quietly, two siblings far too old for their bodies and their world, trying to make it as best they could in such trying times.