Disclaimer: I don't own narnia.

beta-ed by levicorpusbitches and the summary is written by her. THANK YOUU!

It all started with that big fight the previous week. You had been fighting again, and he was not at all pleased. Tired of cleaning up after your mess, he said. You told him it was actually none of his business. And he told you that it actually was, and that Aslan himself won't be pleased to know how Narnia's High King acted.

The mention of the Great Lion ignited your fury.

'How in the world would you know? You're just a traitor, Edmund. You'll always be the Traitor that got Aslan killed.' You snarled maliciously, your stare full of icy hatred that froze his heart. 'You know Aslan died for you, don't you? Well, I am starting to think whether he made the right move. And guess what, I'm sick of you being nosy all the fucking time! You're not my mother, you're just a hell of a younger brother, so stop acting like you make the best judgment and all because I'm tired, I'm tired of this, I'm tired of you, now FUCK OFF!'

You knew you did something awfully wrong, judging by how he stared back at you, shattering right before your very eyes. Like calling him a traitor wasn't enough, you told him you hate him, and that you had hoped he died in Beruna. His gaze was filled with shock, disbelief, pain and anguish, but in that moment, you felt that he deserved it. You didn't mean it, of course, to you, it's just another blow.

But for Edmund, it was not 'just another blow'.

He turned his back on you and he walks away, but you clasped his shoulder and turned him around, forcing him to face you.

'What do you want me to say?' he whispered, his voice shaking. You read him like a book, you knew this personal war between the two of you have been won. And so you let him go.

You stooped so low you shocked yourself, but you convinced yourself that he asked for it and therefore deserved it.

After that, you peeked around his room, watching him, your baby brother, as he wallowed in the dark abyss of misery. He hugged his knees close to his chest, his head between his knees and by the way he heaved you knew he was crying. You felt terrible because the last time he cried was the day your dad got shipped off to the War, the guilt weighed down the remnants of your saintly heart, but you told yourself you didn't care.

The next day, he showed up with his hair tousled, his eyes red and tortured. He barely spoke, let alone smile and he barely ate. But he claimed that he's fine, even though he knew your sisters won't believe him.

Susan approached you, asking if you knew what's wrong with him. You said you don't. She didn't believe you, but she ate it up, believing that you'll tell her one day, when it is time.

And the day after that, he came to you, begging for you to forgive him while deep down, you knew it wasn't his fault; it was yours. He was repeating 'I'm sorry' and 'I shouldn't have' so many times, but you believed he hadn't learned his lesson. So you ignored him like he didn't exist, you walked past him like nothing happened.

You knew it wasn't his fault that you were exiled forever, or so you believed, from Narnia. But for some reason you kept blaming him. You knew he was just protecting you from injuries, but you blamed him for interfering you from your business.

He knew he had Susan, but she didn't matter as much as you did, and the fact that she no longer believed in Narnia had hurt him terribly. He had Aslan, but you reminded him that he killed Aslan once. You knew it was the Witch bewitching him, and your harshness drove him to her.

It wasn't his fault, but thanks to you he believed it is.

You're meant to go to him on the next day, to apologize and to forgive him, but Susan told you Edmund died with a stab wound identical with the one that nearly killed him in Beruna.

You should've known that the day you said you hoped he died at Beruna was the day you killed him. You made him believe he didn't deserve to live, after the long years you spent convincing him otherwise.

He was your brother, your sidekick, your best friend and you killed him. You killed his spirit and his will to live without the intention of doing so.

You cried for hours, because it was never meant to end like this.

At the moment you just wanted to hug him close and never let go. But he was gone forever and it was all your doing. You demanded to see his body, the last remnant of King Edmund the Just you'll ever see.

They complied.

You saw him laid on his bed. Your knees buckled beneath you, the familiarity of the scene finally taking its toll. What kind of brother are you, you thought to yourself, letting him slip away under your nose?

You buried your face on top of his unmoving chest, his body cold compared to yours. You knew you did this. You knew you killed Edmund.

You saw a piece of paper in his clenched hand. You opened his fist, flinching at how cold his finger felt.

'Your brother DID die at Beruna.'

It wasn't his handwriting, but you were far too oblivious to catch the hint.

He had wanted to reconcile. And you walked past him like he's nothing important.

You made him think that he is.

You shed your first tears after so long, muttering your useless apologies, clutching his dead body close to you.

'Edmund.' You whispered, 'I'm sorry.'

A/N: please review but no flames thank you and good day :3