Title: Somnolence

Author: FaithfulPureLight

Disclaimer: I wish. I really do! But alas I do not and I am only borrowing them. (Looks over to her lawyer. "Was that good?" lawyer nods. "Yay! Ok on with the introductions and then the story!")

Dedication: Elecktrum, and Petraverd for betaing and testing this chapter and story. And to all of the lionscall chat for getting me through the first few paragraphs which were hard.

Chapter one: Insomnia

Yawning, Peter wandered the halls of Cair Paravel, tired but knowing he would not be able to rest. He was more than tired. It was a bone deep weariness that made it barely possible to perform his daily duties. His mind however would not allow the exhausted King to sleep.

It had been a month since the coronation, a month since his sisters, his brother, and he had each been crowned by Aslan. A month since the battle that had destroyed the White Witch, securing the freedom of Narnia. A month since their lessons had begun. Their heads being filled with the knowledge Kings and Queens needed to know to run a country. And it had been more then a month since Peter had slept well.

At first he had trouble sleeping because he knew that his brother was in the hands of a tyrant, and he, Susan, and Lucy were running for their lives. Even when they had been safe in Aslan's camp he could not sleep, imagining what could be happening to his younger brother.

Edmund had been returned to them, abused but alive, and still he could not sleep. He watched his brother at all times, afraid it was a dream. That his prayers had not been answered and Ed was still with the Witch.

And after Beruna he was having even more trouble sleeping. It was harder to believe his brother was alive. That he had not died out on that battle field trying to save Peter's life. Hard to believe Lucy had gotten there in time to keep Edmund from death. Now every time he closed his eyes he saw his little brother's broken and bloody body on the green field; white as chalk and gasping for breath. Every time he broke his own rule and slipped from conciseness, his nightmares plagued him with what had happened, the 'what-ifs' and lies.

It was torture. Every time he would wake screaming, crying, panting for breath, and no matter where he was or what he was doing he stopped to check on Edmund. To make sure that the nightmares had only been images supplied by his sub-concise.

Which left him here. Stubbornly trying to keep himself awake by wandering the Cair's corridors. He knew it bothered and worried the more nocturnal Animals, or the Night Watch when they caught him walking late at night. Fortunately they did not catch him often enough that Oreius had been notified yet it seemed. Peter knew if the General or his siblings were aware of his lack of sleep that he would be in more trouble than he cared to deal with.

Especially if Ed knew what the nightmares that made his older brother terrified to go to sleep were about. He could picture the look in his younger brother's eyes. It was a look of soul shattering, gut wrenching pain. A look that had not faded with the short amount of time that had passed since Edmund's betrayal. He wondered idly if the look would ever diminish and leave his brother. Edmund felt far too guilty about what had happened. Peter no longer blamed him for any of it.

He wondered if he ever had. His baby brother had been enchanted by the Witch, and although was somewhat responsible for his own actions, he himself no longer thought so. Besides, if he had been nicer to his brother he might not have gone to the Witch. They would never know now though. So he struggled to put his guilt behind him.

However trying to put his guilt behind him did not mean he wanted to see that look in his brother's eyes, or see the worry in Susan's and Lucy's faces. So he kept to the shadows, trying to keep out of sight of his subjects, those whom he would normally greet.

It was not only the feared nightmares that kept him awake through day and night, but his new duties. Perhaps it was to keep himself from focusing on the demons that appeared every time he closed his weary eyes. Being a King was also taxing his strength, and he found his thoughts as consumed with his new position, as they were with the reoccurring nightmares.

He still did not know all of the Cair, despite his late night wanderings around his new home. Cair Paravel was too large to be seen within a month. He was no longer late to his lessons though. He knew the most important rooms in the castle; the ones he and his siblings spent in the most time and such. At night however was an entirely different story. He was more hesitant to descend down the dark corridors. He had no idea how to get back if he became lost. Perhaps if Edmund was with him he would have gone down. But if his brother was at his side at this moment it would spell disaster for Peter, not adventure.

He was walking down random corridors, recognizable in his sub-conscious when he ran into one of the guards. A Satyr stood above him, bewildered at the appearance of the High King so late at night. He had heard the rumors that the King had been prowling around the Castle during the darkest hours lost in thought, but this was the first he had seen it. Orders had been given that if the High King was seen out of his private chambers during the night any of the Guard was to call General Oreius. The General had become suspicious of their Lord, and wanted answers.

Peter winced. Unless he thought of a believable excuse he knew what was coming. The Guard would call for someone. Perhaps the General. He would rather deal with Oreius then Susan, Lucy, and Edmund. He respected the good General, and he knew that the talking to would only be marginally better, but he'd rather that then the looks of worry he would see if his fellow monarchs found out.

"A Good Morn to you Sir."

It was morning correct? He was pretty sure that it had struck midnight an hour or so ago. He cursed silently. Perhaps if he had known the good Satyr's name this would help his case. But a month was hardly enough time to learn the names of all those who served in his army. He was trying, it was just a very long list.

The Satyr looked down upon him with an intresting expression on his face. Exasperation? Humor? Disappointment? A combination of all seemed most likely. One look from that stern face and he decided that perhaps he would try simple evasion.

"Good Morn, Your Highness." Spoke the guard, knocking him from his thoughts and plans of escaping unscathed.

"Yes, it is, isn't it? Well, I think I'll just head back to my rooms . . ." He started walking the other way as he spoke hoping that he would be able to slip back into the shadows.

"Your Majesty shall I send for a escort? Perhaps the General would be so kind as to come to the summoning."

Peter froze as the guard spoke, suggesting Oreius's involvement. He had to speak very quickly to avoid meeting with the general .

"That's quite alright. I wouldn't wish to bother Oreius or any of the other members of the army. I am sure I shall be fine." He tried to look self assured, like a King. Right now he felt more a child being told on then a King who could command respect. He was going to have to work on that if he was going to continue doing this. That or learn to stick to the shadows more.

"If your sure Sire..." Peter held his breath. Perhaps he could get away with this after all. The Satyr contemplated long enough to make even a battle hardened warrior such as the General impacient. It was no wonder then that he was fidgeting by the time the guard nodded his go ahead, allowing Peter to pass.

As he walked down the hall, his breath let out in one big rush. It seemed he had gotten away this time. No Oreius to explain why he was wandering the castle to, no worried siblings, no forcefully annoyed and determined brothers who would tie him to a chair.

He had reached the end of the corridor when the Satyr called out,

"Uh King Peter?" He froze, terrified that guard had changed his mind. He was sure his voice was an octave higher as he answered.

"Yes?"

"Aren't your chambers the other way?"

He turned, blushing a delicate shade of pink. Direction had not been part of his plan. He grinned, as though caught in the act of something he knew he shouldn't be doing. "Yes so they are. Thank you for pointing that important detail out. I still get so lost within the Cair. I hope some day I get used to it."

With his excuse made, he hurried towards his rooms, breaking into a dead run as the Satyr lost sight of him. He continued, not thinking to stop, unsure if it was safe until he reached his destination. This was the last place he wanted to be for the rest of his night.

He left once again, walking towards his safe haven. To the one place that he knew would offer

salvation against his nightmares. Where reality was better than dreams for once. Edmund's room.

Long Live the Just and Magnificent.