Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or Narnia. They belong to C.S. Lewis.


"Are you almost done?"

Peter looked up and saw Edmund standing in the doorway of their room, his expression unreadable. He turned back to the trunk he had been packing and put a few more items in. Then he closed it. "Now I'm done."

Edmund nodded. "I'll tell Mum and Dad, and then we'll be off."

He turned to leave, and Peter felt the urge to pull him close and tell him that really, he wasn't going very far for very long and that they had been separated by much more distance for longer in the past. "Edmund!" he called.

Edmund turned and looked at him expectantly. Peter found himself unable to proceed. "I-I," he tried. Then, "Sorry, never mind." Edmund frowned and turned around. Soon his footfalls going down the stairs could be heard.

Peter sat down on his bed and looked around the room. He had lived in this house for such a long time. When it came down to it, he and Edmund had always lived together in both worlds, even if they weren't always home. This going away to University would be different. Peter would, for the first time in either of his lives, be going out into the world to forge a life of his own. Separate. Away from his siblings.

He got off the bed and re-opened his trunk. After all, he didn't want to forget anything.

Peter was eleven and he was scared. His father had received a letter that seemed to make him very upset, and then Peter overheard him and Mum talking. Apparently his father had been drafted for the war. He would be going to fight. It was the one thing the family had been dreading since the war began.

Edmund came into the room, an odd look on his face. Peter didn't want to tell him, partly because Edmund was only eight and partly because it might mess things up between them. Peter and Edmund had both started at new schools this past year, without each other for company. Edmund was often bitter and angry when home, and it was assumed that the other boys teased and bullied him somewhat. Peter, though he hated to think it, was sure that Edmund was starting to become a bit of a bully himself in the school.

With this in mind, Peter only said, "Hullo."

Edmund did not look at him. He merely crossed the room and threw himself on his bed.

"What's wrong?" Peter ventured. It was almost dangerous, dealing with an upset Edmund.

"I'm not stupid," Edmund said, sitting up. He looked angry. "I know what was in that letter."

"You do?" Peter asked, surprised.

"Dad's being sent off to war."

"Yes, he is." Peter realized he shouldn't have been so surprised. After all, Edmund was sharp.

"Can't you do anything?" Edmund asked. "He shouldn't have to go."

"He has to," Peter said. "For his country."

"Why?" Edmund asked, looking even worse. "Are you taking their side?"

"I'm just saying that this is his duty," Peter said. Even if I don't know why, he added in his thoughts.

"Fine!" Edmund snapped. "Take their side, I don't care. I'll convince him to stay myself." He lay down on the bed, facing away from Peter. "He can't leave. He just can't."

Despite the fact that Edmund clearly did not want to talk to him anymore, Peter leaned forward and asked, "Why can't he leave?" Peter knew why his father shouldn't leave, there were plenty of reasons, but he wanted to know Edmund's reasoning.

"He's the only one that cares!" Edmund snapped. Then he was silent.

Peter sat up, shocked. "I care, you know." There was no response. Peter wondered if this had to do with them being at separate schools, having less time for each other. That he was closer to Susan, that everyone gave Lucy lots of attention. In the end, Edmund's explanation left Peter confused. He had thought he was being a good older brother. Now he wasn't so sure.

Fifteen minutes later Edmund appeared in the doorway again. "Everyone's downstairs," he said shortly. "We're ready to leave. Are you?"

Was he? Peter glanced at his trunk, which he had checked and re-checked. He took a sweeping glance around the room, trying to memorize every last detail. His eyes landed on Edmund. He wanted to do the same with his siblings, take in every thing about them.

"I'm ready," Peter said, because he really couldn't have said anything else. He couldn't very well stay home and go on with life. He needed to go to University. He needed to make a living for himself because that was what one was supposed to do in this world. He just hated that one was expected to do it alone. Yet he accepted it as he accepted all challenges of life.

Edmund eyed the large trunk. "Do you need help?" he asked. Before Peter could answer he had crossed the room and was already holding one end. He looked up at his older brother, who was staring at him.

"You don't need to do that, Ed," Peter told him.

"I do," Edmund said. "Really, I do. You'll never get this out of the house by yourself."

"I'm going to need to learn how to do things by myself now," Peter said, his voice sounding odd and tight. "You know that."

"Not everything," Edmund said, deliberately tightening his grip on the handle. He smiled, a tight and strained sort of smile. "At least, not during the holidays."

Peter sighed. "Edmund? Are you angry at me for leaving?"

Edmund was quiet for a moment and Peter began to fear the answer. Then he said, "No, I'm not. I could never be angry at you for this, Peter. You have to do this. I will, too, in a few years. Besides, people come and go. But they always come back."

Peter bent down and grabbed the other end of the trunk, the handle digging into the palm of his hand. It was not as heavy with Edmund holding up the other side. "That means a lot, Ed," he finally managed as they began to move.

Edmund seemed to ignore this comment as he ignored all things that could lead to something harder to deal with. "Let's get this downstairs," he muttered, not looking at Peter. "The others should be waiting."

It was quick work, going down the stairs.

It was time to say goodbye.

Peter was so sad that he wanted to cry. Mother already was crying, and Father was standing by the door looking as if he didn't want to go, but of course he had to. He looked heartbroken, knowing that his departure was the cause of the grief his family was experiencing. Even Lucy looked sad, and Lucy was hardly ever sad.

Peter glanced over at his brother, standing stiff and silent beside him. Edmund looked angry and, oddly enough, betrayed, as though he truly thought his father would have given in to the begging and pleading to stay. Peter looked away, because just as Lucy was never sad, Edmund rarely showed his emotions so clearly. It scared Peter that they were all falling apart.

Mother was done kissing and hugging her husband good bye. Lucy stepped up next, and Father whispered in her ear, "Be a good girl, okay. I'm going to miss you terribly."

Lucy clutched him tightly and said in a tiny voice, thick with crying, "Please come back safe."

"I'll try my best." He gave her one last hug and then let go. Lucy stepped back and Susan rushed forward, sobbing.

"I wish you didn't have to go," she cried, embracing him hard.

"I wish I didn't either, but I have to," Father told her. He looked incredibly sad. "But you know, this war shan't last forever. I'll do my best to be home soon. In the mean time, help your mother as best you can. Can you do that for me?"

"I will," Susan whispered. Then she, too, let go.

Edmund slowly walked forward as if he were walking to his death. He looked up at his father and asked, "Why?"

Mr. Pevensie moved forward and embraced Edmund, who didn't object as he normally would have. He whispered into his youngest son's ear, "Because they asked me to, and I must serve my country. I'll try my best to keep safe and to come home as soon as I can. You know I will, Edmund, you have my word." Edmund made an odd choking sound. "I want to know that you've been good while I'm gone. Make me proud."

"How will I know if you're proud?"

"You will know." He squeezed Edmund harder, and Edmund held on tight. Then they both let go, Edmund wiping furiously at his eyes.

Peter moved forward, and Father took him by the shoulders. "Help take care of them, Peter," he said. "Don't let them get into trouble, okay?"

"Okay," Peter said, swallowing hard. "I'll try my best." They hugged, and Peter felt the responsibility of his siblings become heavier as they came apart. "Good bye, Dad."

"Good bye. I love you all." And then he was gone, out to fight a war that he had nothing to do with, not really.

Edmund turned on heal and ran to his room. Peter, sensing that his father's duty to comfort now fell to him, ran after his younger brother.

Peter was silent as the car made its way towards the train station. He wasn't sure what to do or to say, only that he was nervous beyond belief and quite sad. He was also excited, even though he felt slightly guilty about it. He was, after all, headed to University. He was an adult. He had wanted to be seen as one for the longest and now he finally was going to be.

No one was talking except for Lucy, who was telling them about what she expected from the coming school year. She was seated in the middle of Edmund and Susan, who was next to Peter. Susan looked pale and stiff. Lucy was clearly talking to dispel the tension in the car. Edmund was looking out the window and Peter thought he looked sad, but the way Edmund's face was angled away he couldn't really tell.

Five minutes later they were pulling in to the train station, and Peter felt his heart begin to race. This was it. His father parked, and everyone got out of the car. Again, Edmund volunteered to help with Peter's luggage. Peter didn't object. He wanted to be doing something with his siblings, even if it was just carrying bags and trunks. Lucy took Peter's messenger bag, and Susan took his ticket because his hands were full. Their parents led them into the station.

The train was there, waiting for him. They took care of Peter's luggage and then re-emerged on the platform for final goodbyes.

First Peter said goodbye to his parents. His mother was very emotional about the whole matter, crying and hugging him so hard he thought he might suffocate, and then kissing him, once, on the forehead.

Father was a bit easier. He gave Peter a quick hug and then said, gruffly, "Be careful and do well. Make me proud. I know you can." Peter nodded. He would do it.

Then came Susan, burying her face in his shoulder and wetting his shirt with her tears. He didn't mind this. They had done this many times, both in England and Narnia. Now Susan was less likely to mention Narnia, but still, he couldn't help but whisper to her, "Don't be so sad. I'll be back. You know Aslan will watch over all of us whether we're together or separate."

"Please, just…be careful," Susan said, lifting her head from his shoulder. Her eyes were bright with tears and her cheeks were stained, but it mattered little. Peter felt his throat tighten. He was going to miss her so much.

"Don't worry, I will," he promised. Susan stepped back and took her place next to their mother, where they cried softly together.

Lucy's eyes were also bright as she met him, but she looked less sad and more joyful. "Oh, Peter!" she cried, bringing him into a tight hug. "You're finally going to be doing what you've wanted! You're an adult now!"

"Yes," Peter laughed, a bit startled by this change of emotion. "And you know, the rest of you aren't so far off."

"It's exciting, isn't it?" Lucy agreed, her eyes sparkling. She smiled up at him, pulling back to look at him properly. "Now, don't forget to call or write because trust me, we will track you down." Peter smirked, because he knew it to be true. "And come home every so often. As adult as you might be, I think you'll still enjoy the company of us younger ones."

"Don't I always?" Peter said, grinning. "I'll miss you."

"All the more reason to keep in touch," Lucy said. She gave him one last strong hug, whispered, "May Aslan be with you," and then she was standing next to Susan.

Peter looked away from her and faced his brother.

Edmund had thrown himself face down on the bed when Peter arrived in the room. He was shaking hard, and as soon as Peter closed the door Edmund sat up and whirled around, facing him. Peter saw the fury on his younger brother's face and took a step back.

"Leave me alone!" Edmund yelled, taking his pillow and throwing it at Peter, who caught it and took another step back. "Just go!"

"I want to know what's wrong," Peter said, remembering his responsibility and vowing to stand his ground.

"What do you think is wrong?" Edmund snapped, standing now. "Go or I'll…I'll beat you up."

"You don't mean that," Peter said.

"Yes, I do," Edmund snarled. "Don't you see? I hate you! I hate Dad! I hate everyone!"

Peter's breathing quickened. "You don't mean that," he repeated.

"You don't know!" Edmund screamed, throwing a second pillow. In his fury he missed and it landed rather far away from Peter.

"I do know," Peter said, feeling very sad. "I've lost Dad, too."

"And now he wants you to replace him, and you can't!"

Peter sighed. "Maybe I can't, but I can be a better older brother." Edmund just stood there, glaring at him. "Edmund, we all couldn't help what happened."

Edmund took a few deep breaths. Then he muttered, grudgingly, "I hate the people who caused the war. I hate the people who made him leave."

They were getting somewhere. Peter felt slightly relieved. "Hate is a bit of a strong thing to feel," he said. "I don't think they could help it, either. You shouldn't hate."

"Well, I do hate them. It's their fault."

Peter couldn't disagree because it was their fault, whoever 'they' were. "It was," he conceded. "I think we should go help Mum with dinner. She's going to be sad, too." He paused, letting his brother think this over. "Are you going to come? I think you should."

Edmund glared at him, but followed him out of the room and down to the kitchen to help their distraught mother with dinner.

Peter couldn't help but feel afraid that one day Edmund say that he hated him and really mean it.

Edmund came forward slowly, as though dreading it. He looked torn between being happy and being upset. Peter was relieved that he didn't look angry.

"Peter," he said, as soon as he was close enough, "I-I don't know…" He paused and looked down. His voice was tight. "I'm going to miss you a lot."

"Edmund," Peter said, taking him by the shoulders. He knew how much Edmund hated emotional confrontations. He knew how much Edmund hated saying goodbye. He remembered how horrible it had turned out last time. "I don't have to go."

Edmund looked up in shock. "Peter, don't say that," he said. "I don't want you to stay on my account. I know you want to go, I want you to go, and to a certain extent you need to go. Peter, this will be good for you, for all of us." He paused. Then-"The world needs you, you know."

"No, it doesn't."

"Yes, it does. You're just the sort of person who can change lives. You'll never know until you get out there. And I know you, Peter. I know you've wanted to be out and actively making something of your life for so long."

Peter suddenly lunged forward and brought his arms around his younger brother. "You're not angry?"

"I already told you I'm not," Edmund said, voice muffled against Peter's shoulder. "I love you Peter. And I'm going to miss you. I'm just not good at goodbyes, is all."

Peter smiled and ruffled Edmund's hair. Edmund disentangled himself from Peter. "I love you, too, Ed," Peter told him. "Always remember that. And you know that I'll always come back. I've never let you down before."

"No, you haven't," Edmund said, grinning. His eyes had tears in them, but he did not wipe them away. "You're the best brother I could ask for. May Aslan be with you."

"Same to you," Peter said.

"Well…er…." Edmund looked awkward. "Have a good time…and…don't fall into trouble…and…"

Peter smiled. "Good bye, Edmund."

Edmund nodded and muttered, "'Bye Peter," the tears spilling over. He looked sad, but only a little. The grin was still on his face, and Peter realized that Edmund also looked proud. He felt his throat tighten and suddenly there were tears flowing down his cheeks as he said his final goodbyes. They were still there as he boarded the train.

The train pulled out of the station soon after and Peter wiped at his wet cheeks. He looked out the window and smiled to himself.

Goodbyes, he thought, don't all have to be bad.

This goodbye certainly hadn't been bad at all.

He knew, with the certain unwavering knowledge he couldn't quite explain, that no matter how many times he and his family said goodbye to each other they would always meet again, somehow.