finally came back
Disclaimer: I do not own Chronicles of Narnia.
Characters: Pevensie children
Warnings: hints of incestual relationship
Summary: he likes the feel his home
Notes: for the prompt "Home" at lj by angel_in_tears
Her laughter rings in his ears until it is all he can hear anymore. Her soft hand brushes against his calloused one and he quickly reaches out to grab hold it. She pretends not to notice, but he knows better. As she flips her hair to one side, she says something else but he doesn't really pay mind; it's her amiable smile that captures his attention. It's what is genuine about her.
The welcome back party goes on until well into late night. Their younger sister retreated long before midnight, finding enough satisfaction in the festivities for the day. Mother and Father stay in the kitchen, with the elder guests, keeping them company. Peter watches as Susan plays the perfect hostess, chatting amongst the others and offering wine whenever. Her simple dress wrinkles each time she moves to another person (a family member, a neighbor, or friend, whatever, it's all the same to him) but her hands smooth the crinkles as she gracefully makes her way back to him.
He receives questions of all kinds. (Where were you taken? How long were you over there? Did they have to train you for long?)Unlike what Edmund had originally thought, Peter enjoys answering them all, for the answers mean he is not away--he is back. The uniform he had been given to wear for those fourteen months is now lying underneath his bed, to be either forgotten or destroyed one day. His resentment for warfare is dwindling away with speaking of it.
"If they had only known what is like to be at the front lines, in Narnia" Edmund comments and Peter watches as Susan turns away bitterly.
No one really takes note that her hand is still in his as they speak friendly to their guests until they all leave. Edmund retires to his bedroom and Peter turns to her with a slight smile.
"Come to my apartment tonight," he offers, already knowing the reply.
(She smiles, laying her head onto his shoulder and his heart skips a beat.)
When they arrive at his place, he grips her waist and embraces her. Her arms lightly weave around his neck, returning his endearing gesture. Closing his eyes, he breathes in, allowing her presence to finally sink within his heart. It's been so long since he's felt her mere touch, or gazed upon her lovely smiles. He's feared for so long that, perhaps, one day, he may forget the light feel of her hair, or the sound of her firm and steady voice. He fears she's already forgotten. Spending days in the bunks, where it was cold and lonely, he thought of his family, Susan and wondered if they thought of him.
Suddenly, she chuckles and he pulls away slowly to study her face. She covers her mouth and laughs lightly again, avoiding his gaze and shaking her head.
"What is it?"
Tipping her head to the side and meeting his gaze, she grins. "I finally just realized you're home," she touches his face and kisses his jaw, whispering, "And you're not going away."
He wants to tell her she doesn't even have to say it. He wants to tell her that things are different now and he's not going anywhere anytime soon. But she's kisses his lips and nothing else needs to be said as he's pushing against her too.
Peter knows she's home. But he has a feeling he doesn't need to tell her that, for she must already know.
In the morning, he wakes up alone and searches for his sister. He finds her outside, in the front. A metal bin in front of her form as she holds a box of matches, staring intently at the empty trash can.
Frowning, he walks through the cold to her with question. Coming up behind her and placing his hands gently upon her shoulders, he briefly kisses her temple (good morning, he wants to say). The question almost leaves his lips until he sees what exactly it is she has her eyes fixated on. His army uniform lies down at the bottom of the metal bin, crinkled and dirtied.
Tenderly, he takes the single match from her fingers and she holds the box firmly. With one fluid motion, he strikes the match against it, bringing the life of fire and drops it onto the battle-dress uniform. It burns with blithe, dancing slowly around the edges. The crispy air around them doesn't seem to matter anymore as they watch the earthly clothing blacken with its end.
Leaning into his form, Susan whispers, "You were so much more handsome with armor and a crown anyway."
He reaches down with his calloused hand to capture her soft one, feeling as secure as he'll ever get.
(And, yes, he's all right with that.)
One of the small meanings in here is that they wish to rid themselves of anything unrelated to their beautiful Narnia.