Rest Now
This is the first and last time you will ever see me kill Peter off.
Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia or the poetry.
May your spirit soar in freedom
From the fears that gripped so tight.
May you find the peace you searched for
As you wandered, lost in the night.
May your tortured mind be clear and calm
And your tender heart be warm.
May you have no need for strength now
May there ne'er be another storm.
Summary: The final moments two brothers will ever have. One-shot.
The High King's final moments had come.
Peter the Magnificent was dying.
The battle had been great and terrible from the moment it began, and though the Narnians had one, it had been at a great sacrifice—the loss of their king. It hadn't been worth it.
Edmund the Just King couldn't believe it was happening—he could not believe it and the world was ending, it must be, for his brother could not be dying. It wasn't even impossible.
As they reached the door to Peter's rooms, the centaur healer outside took hold of Edmund by the shoulder.
"My king, I will not have you upsetting him." He gave Edmund a stern look. "No hysterics and no deathbed confessions, whatever you may have. The High King will be dying easily and peacefully, if not painfully." He opened the door and ushered Edmund inside.
The room was dark and silent other than Peter's labored breathing. Edmund bit his lip as he approached the tall bed.
His brother lay in the huge bed, his figure flat and almost seeming small, like the teenager he had been when they first discovered Narnia. His hair was disheveled, his face a waxy yellow color, all color drained from it. His closed eyes were sunken in twin purple circles.
At the sight of him, Edmund froze and just stared.
He had not believed it was true, but the evidence was here and impossible to be denied. He could see the pinched look about the nose—to his regret, he had seen so many faces on the battlefield with this look, and it promised death.
I won't let him go away, he must not leave us, some part of his mind cried, and he hastily grasped Peter's limp hand. "Peter!"
As if with a great effort, Peter's eyes opened a slit. "Edmund," he muttered, and then they slid closed again as he wheezed in a breath.
"Edmund, promise me…"
"Anything," Edmund said, his tone flat and void of emotion. "I'll do anything, Peter."
"The girls—look after them." After a pause, he sucked in another raspy breath. "Lucy—she catches cold so easily—she's so small and weak. You look after her."
"Peter… Peter, you aren't dying, it's not even possible… you can't-"
"No. Promise."
The fight drained out of him. "I promise."
All was silent for a moment, and then Peter spoke once more. "You—" He paused, fighting for breath and the strength to speak—"You'll look after yourself, too."
"Yes, I will, I swear."
"Good."
The High King opened his eyes again and looked toward the door, seeing Orieus standing there, and something in his eyes flickered, as if remembering something.
"And—and Orieus. Don't let him do anything foolish…"
"Foolish?" Edmund blinks.
Peter must've noticed his confusion, for he summoned the strength to talk, despite the agony it was causing him. "He makes such—such rash d-decisions. You mustn't let him."
"Oh. I understand, Peter. I won't."
"Orieus isn't—he isn't practical and he—he is very rash…arrogant..."
"Yes, I understand. I'll keep an eye on him."
"Look after him too—" Peter's voice was starting to slur now, his eyes had drifted shut again. He made a great effort and spoke once more. "But don't… don't let him know… he would be—he would be angry."
"He'll know nothing, Peter." Edmund forced a grin for his brother's sake. "Swear it. He won't know. I'll suggest things to him and then make sure he does it."
Another few minutes passed in silence.
"Ed—you must—you must remember—" Peter couldn't finish and he began coughing, blood bubbling and spilling over his lips to dribble down his chin.
"I must remember what?" Edmund wanted to cry now, so badly. He knew the time was short.
"I love you, Ed—you're such a good brother—so brave, so good—"
What lies those were, Edmund thought, maybe not to Peter, but he knew. He'd been absolutely horrid in the first weeks of their life in Narnia, and he was still sometimes… his thoughts were interrupted by Peter.
"You must remember that." His eyes were open again and he was looking at Edmund, his blue eyes drowsy with death and heavy-lidded.
"I promise, Peter, I will."
Peter managed a nearly invisible nod, and then allowed his eyes to close—forever.
"Good night, Peter," Edward whispered, his eyes blurring as Peter released his last breath in the form of a long sigh. "All will be well and taken care of. You've earned your rest—rest now, brother."
May the music of the angels
Be the sweet sounds you hear.
As you're rocked in Heaven's cradle
May you ne'er shed another tear.
I'll wear your memory proudly
My only brother... my true friend.
May my love for you reach Heaven above
Until we meet again.
Thoughts?