I want it known that as I write these words, I am half-asleep, drunk, and totally exhausted from a solid week of 15-hour workdays. Call me sick. Call me perverted. Call me erratic, call me what you will. Say I'm old-fashioned, say I'm over the hill. (I am definitely drunk if I'm quoting "Old Time Rock 'n Roll") But before you condemn, read, and understand the three simple words that close the main story.

Every beginning is an end.

The beginning of a deeper love was the end of their familial love.

It was forbidden. It was wrong. They knew it.

They didn't care.

It began as something so simple—a moment of contact, nothing more. But sometimes something so simple becomes something far more complex.

There is a theory which is called causality. It is cause and effect.

Everything has a cause, and that cause brings about an effect. That is the beginning.

They were riding alone in the countryside, just he and Susan; the High King and Queen.

"Peter, slow down! You're going far too fast!"

"Oh, come on, Susan! You can keep up!" Peter turned a sharp curve, loping ahead.

Susan then tried to turn the same corner the same way. She turned only a second too late, and her horse hit a slick of mud. The horse slid and fell sideways, Susan falling with it. She made a cry, which caused Peter to turn. "Susan!" He galloped back as fast as he could drive the horse. He stopped the horse, and leapt clear down next to Susan. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine." Then she tried to stand, and failed miserably, her ankle giving out under her. "Maybe not."

"Take it easy. Let me see your ankle." She leaned back, and offered the offending joint.

He examined it gently. "It looks like you broke it."

"What can you do?"

He looked at his sister. "You mean other than try to wrap it up in a bandage?"

"Yes, apart from that."

"Well, would you like me to kiss it, make it all better for you?"

Before Susan could come up with an appropriately phrased response to it, he did so. His kiss was feather-light, and was nothing different than what he'd done on several other occasions for both she and Lucy.

Except everything was different. The brush of his lips was like electricity that sent a shock across her entire body. She gasped softly. Then she hoped that he didn't hear. Then she wondered why she hoped that.

With that pondering came a chain of thought that led down a path that she never believed possible.

This is the cause. The effect has just begun.

Peter rode through the Narnian night, carrying his sister back to Cair Paravell. Her arms were wrapped loosely around his neck, she was fast asleep. It was during this time that a furious mental debate was raging within Peter.

For that kiss was a shock not only to Susan, but to Peter as well.

When his lips brushed softly against Susan's ankle, what happened next shocked him. He found something jolt inside him, as if his stomach had done a backflip. In that instant, he found everything about her intoxicating. And it had only gotten worse on this long trip home. The feel of her hair, the smell of her, even her touch was like magic. He continually cursed himself, stop this nonsense! This is your sister, dear Susan, the girl that's always been there, the soft voice of reason, the sweet girl always brimming with love of life and others...

The girl of your dreams.

Such was the debate that raged in Peter's mind.

It was blackest night when they returned to Cair Paravell. Peter carried his sister through the dark halls to her chambers. He gently set her down in her bed, and removed her boots and coat that she had worn for riding. He set the boots aside, then looked at her. Big mistake.

Her face was peaceful, serene. Her hair spread out from her head in a halo that framed her face beautifully. She was his angel. He loved her. And he could do nothing about it.

Susan's sleep, while appearing serene, was anything but. Her mind was a tumultuous rage of despair, as she came to the realization that everything she ever wanted, and she could never have him. The rules were perfectly clear on this, and everything told her it was wrong. It was.

And yet as the night raged on, she came to the painful realization that she loved Peter. And she could never have him.

This painful existence went on for almost a month as neither spoke to or saw the other. And all this time, they fought the horrid urge to break the silence and give in to selfish impulse. Each day was the ultimate torture as they strived to defeat it, struggled against it, fought to deny it, tried to ignore their hearts. And anyone who has ever been in love would tell them that it is the most painful, impossible mission to undertake.

In Cair Paravell, there were two hallways that ran perfectly parallel to each other, save for a small hallway that connected them in the center.

It was seeing each other in across this small hallway that was the catalyst. They were passing by, on their way to business that had no need of their presence—just a way of passing time. Then they saw each other. In that moment, each realized the truth.

The truth is that rules are built by those who do not understand what they try to condemn. Rules are things that attempt to impress themselves upon their subject. Impression of these things causes revulsion and ultimately, revolt. It is a proven fact in history; whenever a society presses its will upon another, the latter will eventually revolt and throw off the will of the former.

Rules are made to be broken.

In that moment of visual contact, they both realized that life is far too short to not live without regret. The rules told them that siblings could not love.

The rules were wrong.

The rules were broken.

Susan and Peter ran to each other at exactly the same moment, meeting in the center of the hallway. Susan wrapped her arms around Peter's neck as he took her face in his hands, and their lips met. The simple contact was everything to them. The kiss was like grabbing a livewire, shocks sparking through them, but also like basking in the rays of the noonday sun, a warm, soft feeling spreading across them as though nothing could be wrong ever again.

They were right. Their love was a pure, unadulterated bliss that was not condemned by the Narnians and their siblings, but embraced and cherished as a symbol of the boldest and most beautiful thing in the world; a piece of knowledge that is told in fables and fairy tales that are so readily dismissed. They shouldn't be; they may seem simple and silly, but they are reminders of the simple and wonderful things of life. Most important among them is this.

Love conquers all.

Every end is a beginning...