Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me.
Notes: No matter how much I become distracted by other fandoms, I don't think I can ever leave these two be. The way they are is the way I wish all brothers could be.
-
--
The words come easily in Narnia, when their days are sunlight-touched and golden. Peter would have balked at saying them in England, too conscious of the pressures of being male there, forced to pretend that any such feelings were utterly foreign to him. At any rate, they were different people then, and at times Peter was not sure he felt it, let alone able to say it.
But the words come easily to his lips in Narnia, where his brother is not only his brother but his friend, his sword, his strong right arm. Edmund doesn't seem to realize his worth in everyone else's eyes; Peter resolves to spend years, if he must, making him see it. Edmund doesn't see that without his cool sense, his keen judgment—indeed, without his silent support and steady companionship and utter, undeniable loyalty—Peter could not even hope to hold the title of Magnificent.
And so Peter throws an arm around his shoulders and pulls him in close; with lips pressed to the side of Edmund's head he murmurs, "Oh my brother, my king; do you not know how much I love you?"
And if Edmund ducks his head and his cheeks light with color, if it seems his shoulders tighten with the desire to believe, but not yet belief, that is fine. Peter has years yet to reign; he will repeat it again and again until he sees belief in his brother's eyes, and indeed, even after.
-O-
Back in England they are the men they were in Narnia, held tight in the bodies of the boys they once used to be. They are adults in a world that will only see them as children; the easy happiness of Narnia has no place in this world.
It is harder than Peter would have imagined. His brother is still his brother and his friend, but when words of love come to his lips they are held back by the invisible barrier of the eyes that watch them. It is so hard; Peter never before realized how carefully people watch for behaviors that mark one out as different, that point out how little one belongs.
He watches Edmund struggle amongst people who know him only as he was; his soul grew in Narnia, perhaps too large for his body here to hold with comfort. Edmund wore the cloak of Justice for years like a second skin. He wears it now, but it hangs strangely on a child's body. Day by day, Peter can see Edmund growing weary, disillusioned. He sees his brother withdraw from a world he no longer understands, and he sees that there is one thing, at least, he needs to hear.
And so Peter places his hands on Edmund's shoulders, feeling the weight of an invisible crown, and says, "Once a king of Narnia, King Edmund the Just." And then, "You need not wear a crown to have my love, my brother."
When Edmund smiles at him, Peter can see a tension lift from his shoulders, and finally--finally--there is belief in his eyes.
Perhaps the words were easier said in Narnia, but they are more needed here, and Peter knows: his brother is more important to him than all the judging eyes in the world.
--
-
