Author Notes: Hi! So, I've loved the Narnia books since I was a kid, and adore the films, but for some reason never really had an idea for a fic. Rewatched Dawn Treader yesterday, and was hit rather violently with this idea on the way home from work today. I then only had a span of a few hours to write it before I saw HP7 part 2 and that fandom ate me desire to write this. So I hope it turned out okay...

It's very early in the morning now so I hope I'm not rambling, but ANYWAY. This fic is set movie-verse during the sea monster attack on the Dawn Treader, and I hope you enjoy it, and the siblingness!

Just An Infinity Away

Adrenaline, heart pounding, fear – so, so much fear. Peter could feel it pulling at him, grasping him by the heart and pulling him under. Pulling him…where? Because, no, he wasn't afraid, and no, he wasn't scared. This wasn't his fear, although how he knew this to be fact, he was not entirely certain.

"Lucy!" A terror-filled cry tore from someone lost in the shadow and the mist. It was a voice Peter knew well; it wrenched at his gut as he could nearly taste the panic that laced his younger brother's voice. And then Peter realised that the fear that sang in the air was Edmund's.

Feet slammed, and there was wood and water and blood and cold – bone chilling cold. Instinctively, Peter knew where he was. Narnia. Even if the faun running past him wasn't enough of a clue, Peter would know this land with his last dying breath.

But where? Because unless Peter was very much mistaken, this was a ship, and everything was dark. And – by Aslan what is that?

Splinters flew as the giant pulsing body of a monster – by any definition of the term – lunged at the ship's mast. Peter dived to the side reflexively, but not fast enough and he found himself instinctively curling away from what would be a bone-shattering blow…

…only to have it pass through him entirely. Untouched.

It was then that Peter truly registered the situation, because this was like no entry into Narnia that he had ever experienced. Especially considering that, as he paused to take stock of himself, he realised that he was wearing the same clothes as he had been the last day he had stood in Narnia. The day Aslan told him and Susan that they would never return.

And since when did you enter Narnia by falling asleep in your bed in America? A dream then.

No.

No, if Peter knew anything, this was not a dream. This was not a nightmare. This was something…new.

"Edmund! Look out!" A strong clear voice cut across the mayhem, and Peter's head whipped to see Caspian attempting to scramble out of the way of debris and make his way to the prow of the ship. And there…

Edmund.

What the blazes did that idiot think he was doing?

Susan's head pounded, and her stomach roiled with something she could not quite define. Now, Susan always saw herself as a very level-headed girl, and so when she found herself standing on the deck of a clearly Narnian ship, in the middle of sea battle with a god-awful thing, she should automatically assume that she was dreaming.

But she wasn't. And she knew she wasn't. Through the tiniest details; the wind did not whip her hair, her Narnian dress fell smooth, and sea spray did not sting her skin.

What on earth was happening? Her stomach gave a funny jolt as she saw Caspian, wind-swept and worn. But then her eyes caught onto another figure far over on the other side of the ship, shining like an odd beacon of a light that wasn't really there.

Peter?

"Edmund!" Susan was ripped from her thoughts by a scream. Her sister's scream. And then Lucy was running up stairs towards her, something clutched in her hands.

Queen Lucy the Valiant indeed, because Susan had never seen her sister burning with such terrified yet determined fire. Or maybe she had…Narnia was such a strange memory these days.

And then Susan realised what Lucy was holding, "My bow…" The words fell from her lips in a breath of remembered longing, and she knew then that Lucy had no idea that she was standing there.

Her gaze followed the train of Lucy's frantic searching eyes, skipping over Peter's rapidly moving form towards –

Edmund.

Aslan, no!

He was going to get himself killed!

Lucy drew a shuddering breath beside Susan, and it was then that the older sister saw a glimpse of what she always knew to be true. The younger pair were working in a harmonious tandem, protecting each other and fighting side by side. Without their older siblings. In Narnia, alone yet together.

No, not alone.

Because Susan knew what to do. And so did Lucy.

As if a ghost, Susan moved with impossible grace on the churning seas, spurred on by the youngest Pevensie's beautiful courage as she shakily pulled the bow she had steadfastly refused to try in all the years of their reign at Cair Paravel. Because it was Susan's.

But now Lucy was the only daughter of Eve that mattered in Narnia.

Now the bow was hers.

And she had to protect her brother from the monstrosity rearing at the prow.

Susan couldn't touch anything. She couldn't be heard.

But she could slip behind her sister, and let her fingers ghost over Lucy's. She could let her arms curl taunt but a fraction from the other girl's clothes. She could stand at Lucy's back, and she could speak unheard words in her ear.

"Keep your arms relaxed. Don't lose sight of the target. Let the arrow obey you."

Lucy took a steadying breath, gathering all her bravery, all of her self-belief.

Edmund…

"Now!" Susan cried in Lucy's deaf ears, but the arrow flew with an expert flicking back of release nonetheless.

Lucy made a noise of disbelief and relief as the arrow hit its mark. The sound was whipped away by the wind in an instant, but Susan heard, and smiled with a brand of pride she could not put into words.

As Lucy lowered the bow with purposeful strength, and dashed back into the fray, Susan could not help but admire her younger sister's beauty, grown all the more in the months since they had been parted, made all the more radiant by her courage.

Wait – was that a dragon?

Peter itched to curl his fingers around his sword. He had no idea where to look, such was the chaos on deck. In the corner of his eye, he could have sworn he saw a glimmer of another person – someone who stood out to him; Susan? But then Edmund kept being an idiot, and Peter kept having a heart attack as he repeatedly watched his brother nearly get himself killed out of bravery.

And then there was Lucy, and then there was both of them. Because Lucy was never in any of the fights, any of the battles – she was Lucy. And Edmund had been in too many near death experiences for Peter to be entirely comfortable in even letting the boy out of his sight, let alone for him to be in Narnia without him! They were his little brother and sister, and they were not meant to be standing at the precipice of death and destruction.

Time passed in a blur of blood, sea water and torn limbs. Peter frantically tore his voice hoarse screaming pointlessly at the brother and sister who could not hear him. And then the monster reared like a cobra, and Peter's face matched Caspian and Edmund's as they stood staring up at it.

Not good.

Ropes and rigging and splinters and sails.

And fog, and darkness, and that chilling cold that crept over Peter's skin. Or was it Edmund's skin?

And when would Edmund learn that his 'ideas' had a tendency to try and drive Peter to an early grave?

Caspian took charge down on deck, and Edmund swung himself up to a height. Peter followed. Peter always followed.

And then Peter felt something claw at him by proxy, and again he wished he was gripping his sword.

But he wasn't, he realised… Edmund was. And for some strange reason, that was okay too. It was a little piece of Peter, corporeal with his brother in Narnia, even though Peter himself couldn't be there.

Green fog curled, and-

No…

The minute, the moment, the instant. They all froze.

Peter could feel the fear, the worry, the fraction of self-doubt.

So he did the only thing he could do. He stood at Edmund's back, hand unconsciously hovering over his brother's as he gripped the hilt.

Edmund's grip tightened, became more sure, the self-doubt was gone; the words of the witch were poison, but they were a poison he could overcome. He had Peter's sword. He was a King of Narnia, not a scared little boy.

"You can do this Ed." Peter found the words falling from his lips, pointless, too far away and unheard. But they needed to be said. Because Peter needed to tell his brother that he believed in him, believed in his strength in Narnia as the oldest Pevensie to have crossed back over to the incredible land.

And then the blade glowed blue, and Jadis screamed.

And then Peter screamed as that creature of fear and malice dived at them.

A tandem of stance, and the brothers moved as one. One solid, strong, brave. One not even there, but at the same time, always there.

A cry, a shout, victory, joy and lastly, a bright shaft of light as it pierced the clouds-

-as it pierced the curtains.

Peter bolted up in bed with a shout; nearly head-butting Susan, who had been sitting on the edge of his bed. "Good morning. Bad dream?" The way his sister said the words, the lilt to them, and Peter instantly knew that whatever had happened to him the night before, he had not been alone.

"Something like that."

"Something." Susan nodded with a sad, proud smile that Peter found mirrored on his own lips as well.

Later, when the older pair of siblings stood on the balcony overlooking the grounds of another fabulous house, at another fabulous party, Peter found his arm falling around Susan's shoulders, and Susan found her head falling onto Peter's shoulder. Remembering, thinking.

An infinity away, but at the same time, only a hair's breadth, Edmund found himself standing on the deck of the Dawn Treader, his arm around Lucy's shoulders as they watched Gail swim to reunite with her mother and the other Narnian survivors. Lucy's head fell onto his shoulder in a way that seemed to fit perfectly.

Lucy's voice smiled as she breathed out loud enough so that only he could hear, "We did it."

She didn't just mean what she could have meant. He knew her too well for that.

They had done it. Together, but also, by themselves.

Two pairs, two halves of a whole. And yet, with Peter's sword and Susan's bow, the four Pevensies had stood in Narnia together for the last time.

FIN

Author Notes: I love these siblings so much that I really wanted to do them justice! I would love to know what you thought! xx