A/N: This is absolutely the LAST thing I am supposed to be working on, but when your muse has apparently gone on strike, you write what you can just to write anything. lol

This is part of a much longer daydream that will never be written into an actual story, but this scene needed to be written. (The longer story involved Ed studying in America and all of them living much longer than in the actual series, lol, but that's not really relevant.) This conversation definitely happened at some point in their lives; you can fight me on it (lol). I just hope this comes across the way I wanted it to.

Book and movie compliant seeing as how there is barely an actual reference to any series events, lol. Set between VotDT and LB. Edmund (as stated in text) is 16, which makes Peter 19-20 (and studying at University). The time line I take places LB in 1949 (which is in part because of my views on the Problem of Susan, but that doesn't come into this story), which would have made them 19 and 22 respectively, as opposed to LB being 1943, which would mean the series would already be over before this could happen, lol.

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize, including the line I stole from from Albert Camus' Return to Tipasa. (Everything else is mine, though; just not that first line of italisized text that Peter reads, lol.)

Between Worlds

He was sixteen that Christmas, when he received a priceless gift.

"I don't believe it.. Where did you find this?"

"Well, you see, I was wandering around off campus and got lost," Peter explained. "I just stepped in to ask for directions, and since the shop clerk was in the back, I thought I'd look around a bit. Who know I'd find a book that's been out of print for years, and that it would be the very one you've been looking for. You've been talking about it so much, especially lately, that I couldn't resist. I still can't believe I found it either."

Edmund stared at the navy binding of the old book in his hands, his fingers lightly tracing over the embossed golden lettering on the spine. "And a first edition, even. Professor Kirk didn't even have a first edition. It was a third, I think." He lifted his gaze to finally meet his brother's. "This...this means the world to me. I can't thank you enough."

Peter smiled. "Just let me read it before you head back to school so I can see what it's all about."

"Deal."

Christmas afternoons were always a quiet, peaceful time in the Pevensie house, and when late afternoon rolled in and the house fell silent, Edmund curled up in the armchair in front of a roaring fire and opened the book he had been longing to read again. He had read perhaps two pages before his brother came in and sat across from him.

"You look almost sad reading that."

He frowned. "I wouldn't say I'm sad, exactly. More like nostalgic." He paused. "Reading this... it makes me think of Narnia, and not just because the professor introduced me to this book. Rather, he introduced me to it because it also reminded him of Narnia." He leaned forward and handed the book to his brother, still open to where he had left off. "See for yourself."

Peter took it and read:

In the depths of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer. Not of my own power; no, it was placed there by Someone much greater than I, and I, through Him, need not despair. The death of winter cannot last forever, and, indeed, it need not exist at all once I have known Him and have felt His life in me and through me. While the rest of the world lies in cold disdain, I can be warmed knowing that this is not the end. There is a better end to come, much superior to anything in this world, if only faith may persevere.

In this world to come, there is no time, there is no death, there is no suffering. There is only quiet peace and perfect rest. And, the best of all, being in the presence of the One through whom the world was made and for whom all creatures were made and to whom all things belong. There has never been a higher price paid than for us, and one day the One who made the sacrifice will make complete His promise to us, and bring us into His perfect presence forevermore.

But until this time comes, we must continue on in the faith. We must not waver from our conviction. We must run the race set before us; we must fight the good fight. And then, perhaps, one day we will be among those who hear, "Well done, my good and faithful servant."

Peter glanced up from the text to fix his gaze on his brother. "You know, this would have been rather heavy reading for a ten-year old. But I do understand what you mean."

Edmund took the book back. "That is just the forward from the author, but Professor Kirk did read it to me, if that makes a difference. It's just...the text as a whole… The story itself, but even just the forward… Reading it, I feel as if I should be back in Narnia, and I can't help but to wish we hadn't been told we'd never return. Perhaps that's why I looked so sad to you. Christianity - and, thus, this book - promises a return. But Aslan Himself told us we wouldn't. It just… It makes me long for Narnia so much that I can't breathe for thinking about how we'll never go back.

"Sometimes… Sometimes I think it's more of a curse than a blessing that Lucy and I were able to see a glimpse of Aslan's Country. I'll never forget it, Pete, and the memory makes me long for it all the more. It hurts - a pain so deep it's like it's always been there and will never leave. Why does it have to leave such an ache? It's like half of me was left there, and no matter what I do, I can't simply wish it to come back. It's not like I don't want to be here with my family and my friends, but when I think of the those I left behind, it's like the hole in my heart only gets bigger. I can't live here like nothing happened, and I'm not allowed to live there any longer. I'm stuck here, but I simply cannot let go of that place. My body is here, but my spirit is always in Narnia. Half here, half there; I'm not entirely either place. How do you go about living between two worlds?"

Peter was silent for a moment. "You and Lucy seeing Aslan's Country… I don't believe for one moment that it was a curse. Aslan gave Himself for you - for all of us - so I think that proves how much He loved us. Why would He then decide to cause such pain? He wouldn't. I don't think at all that that's why you were allowed a glimpse. Perhaps, just maybe, you both were allowed to see so that you would long to return, so that you would never forget who you are and Whose you are." He paused. "And perhaps so that you would have hope."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you really believe we'll never be allowed to return?"

Edmund's frown deepened. "Aslan Himself told us, so I am inclined to believe that, yes."

"What if He only meant that we wouldn't return to Narnia as we know it? Not to Narnia itself, but perhaps, when we die one day, to Aslan's Country?"

The furrow in his brow creased even further. "Do you really believe that, Pete?"

Peter smiled. "I have to believe it. I think I would go crazy if I didn't. You aren't the only one who left his soul in Narnia. Though, perhaps, the ache is greater for you because you have seen what I have not. That glimpse of a life to come - let it drive you, Ed. Don't despair over it. We have not been called to despair but to joy."

Edmund sighed, running a hand through his hair. "That doesn't tell me how I'm supposed to reconcile England and Narnia. When you long for the one place you cannot go, it's not easy trying to live where you are."

Peter looked thoughtful for a moment. "Aslan Himself said we had to figure out how to live in our own world, and in the five years since I've last seen Narnia, I have found one thing to be true in regard to that. You can live here without living here."

"That makes no sense, Pete."

"In other words," Peter chuckled, "you continue on the best you can to live in this world, even though we don't truly belong in it anymore. This may not be Narnia, but that doesn't change who we are. So it's simple, really: You keep living like a Narnian, Ed. We may be misplaced for the moment, but we are not forgotten - of that I am completely convinced. There will come a day when all of this will make sense. But until then…

"We live like Narnians."