Edmund Pevensie was having a bad week.

It had been a while since he had, had one of those.

All things considered, it had been a particularly pleasant month. It was nearing the end of August, almost all of his family members were currently together for the long-overdue holiday and now that the awful war was over it was a sure thing that their father, whose face as well as voice had already become quite unfamiliar to Edmund, would be coming to finally join them too.

He was fifteen – technically, thirty at the moment, but who really bothered to count anymore? - and both he and his older brother had finished their last year at the boarding school that they had been attending up until that point. Peter had altogether graduated while Edmund would now be switching to a new, private school closer to home. Susan had put her foot down and insisted that she continue attending 'Saint Finnbar's' although he couldn't very well fathom why. He could remember that there had been a time when she had hated the place.

As for Lucy, she would also be going to an academy near his and this meant that they would be living together for the first time in what seemed forever.

It had cheered him quite a bit.

The future was uncertain as well as how pleasant this school experience would be, but Edmund didn't like to dwell on that. 'It never pays to be a pessimist', he preferred to mentally repeat to himself. This was something that Peter was apt to say to him on more than a few occasions and therefore also magical words that never failed to cure him of little as well as bigger anxieties. Although, on another note, the eldest of the Pevensies had the most ridiculous case of the 'Worrywart' syndrome Edmund had ever been witness to and was also, in this way, a total hypocrite.

Even though it was raining, he had just been thinking about what a dreadful time he had been having and Edmund was sure that in the next few seconds the damp, paper bag that he was holding was going to tear under the weight of the groceries inside, he had to smile.

Just thinking about Peter was a sure-fire fix to any sour mood even if the reason being was that they had fought and a disagreement had been the cause.

Still, he had to admit to himself that it was through no fault of Peter's that the bad week had happened – at least, not directly.

Monday had gone well, up until six in the evening when Susan's date cancelled on her on account of the flu.

His older sister, who was usually more than a little unpleasant for Edmund to be around, had been remarkably agreeable for most of the vacation.

It had almost reminded him of previous days when she had been fondly called 'The Gentle'.

This sudden alteration of plans had caused a snap change in her demeanor and suddenly he was being ordered about by the bossy Susan that they were all more accustomed to.

It would have been too embarrassing to show up at one of the dances that she liked to attend without a partner and therefore Edmund would just have to come along.

Being the good brother that he strove to be, he went along with the plan and tried not to complain as he sat at one of her tiresome parties for three hours, bored out of his mind.

The night ended well enough. He went home, climbed into Peter's bed and they had a good laugh about it.

The next day, they woke up and had just been getting ready to go out for a full day of real, authentic, honest-to-goodness fishing, just as Peter had promised that they would, when a call had come in for his brother.

After repeated questionings of who it was, he received no proper answer, but rather a quick apology of how they could not spend the day together and how he would be back at the house late that evening before rushing out of the door in a flurry of excitement.

This left a befuddled Edmund to sit on the staircase and wonder how he was going to occupy himself for the rest of the time until the magnificent King's return.

He ended up peacefully reading a book in a corner of Lucy's room, seeing as she had numerous fluffy, stuffed animals for him to sit on, nobody was home and there was nothing else for him to do.

The rest of his family did come home, but only Peter was still missing. His mother finally gave him an explanation.

"Oh, didn't you know? That old friend of your brother's is back in the neighborhood for the summer, visiting his grandmother. It's been a long time since they've seen each other - he's graduated too, I expect. His name is Frederic, Frederic Townsen."

Edmund recalled when the boy had lived there.

That was before the beginning of the war, before the wardrobe and even before Aslan. Back then, the two Pevensie boys hadn't even liked each other.

It had been a very long time.

Edmund didn't have much time to think on this. Yet again, his sister wanted to borrow him and wear him as an accessory at another dance-party. Reluctantly and with much self-discipline, he forced himself to go once more in order to make her happy.

Susan was and the night passed by at an excruciatingly slow pace. His brother wasn't in bed to talk to him about it afterwards.

Peter wasn't to be seen on Wednesday and Lucy demanded that they go to the park.

Edmund did.

With relief, he understood that Susan did not need him for that particular evening.

Gerard - or whatever his name really was - had gotten better.

Thursday was long and it rained.

The shocking thought came to him that perhaps Peter had already gone fishing with this 'Frederic' person by now and would no longer want to do so with him.

Disturbed, he asked twice whether or not this was so.

Both times, Lucy and his mother assured him that he hadn't.

For most of Friday, he stared frustratedly at the walls, debating whether or not to go to this person's house and just drag his brother home - where he belonged.

Lucy stumbled across him and began to laugh.

"Honestly, Edmund! You've had him all to yourself for - what? - thirty years now -"

"Not all to myself," he found himself protesting.

Lucy ignored him.

"- Can't you let poor, old Fredric have Peter for a few, measly days?"

He set his jaw and gave her a stubborn look.

"No."

His sister bent down into a crouch and brushed a hand through his hair with a sudden tenderness.

"What is all of this really about, Edmund? I think you and I both know why you've been so out of sorts lately."

He refused to respond. He also refused to go with Susan later that night when she needed him because Gerard had gotten into a fight with her.

He decided that he didn't care when she told him that he was selfish.

On Saturday, Edmund thought to himself once and for all that 'Frederic Townsen' was the most absurd name he had ever heard of and that only the silliest person in the world could own it.

Therefore, it was high time that Peter come back to him and stop associating with silly people. He nearly picked up the phone to tell his brother this fact and then stopped in embarrassment.

In the back of his mind, he knew that this was all extremely immature and made absolutely no sense, but he couldn't seem to stop himself.

Edmund couldn't remember the last time he had been like that. He was feeling agitated, restless, hurt and the tiniest bit of actual anger.

And, why?

He didn't know why. No matter what Lucy said, he didn't.

Later that night, he was informed that while he had been taking a walk, Peter had come back briefly, but then left.

During Mass on Sunday, a certain someone slipped into his pew, wrapped an arm around his shoulder and kissed his cheek firmly.

"I've missed you, brother," came the whisper.

Edmund tensed a little, still mad, but unsure of what he was mad about and not prepared to delve deeper into that subject. In the end, he only gave a short, awkward nod in return, which Peter noticed as a little odd and made him frown.

They didn't say anything more, fully captured by the service and their communion with 'Aslan'. Edmund's prayers were unfocused, helpless and a little ashamed. He apologized about being nasty to Susan and telling her that he understood why Gerard wouldn't want to see her anymore. He acknowledged that he shouldn't have ignored Lucy when she was trying to talk to him. This was followed by so many 'What do I do?'s that he nearly lost count.

Just as soon as the service ended, he ignored the little, nagging voice telling him to turn around, embrace his brother and tell Peter that he had missed him even more. Lucy reprimanded him with a look, but he didn't turn back to what he was sure was an utterly confused High King. He linked arms with his mother on the way to the car and idly questioned about his father's return. Edmund didn't listen to half of the answers.

On the ride home, Peter loudly proclaimed that Frederic had returned to wherever he had come from and asked his strangely quiet brother if they wanted to finally go fishing that day. Edmund gave a toneless 'no' and hated himself for it.

He could practically feel Peter's alarm rolling off of him in strong waves as well as his burning stare and Edmund felt compelled to look at him, but couldn't. As they exited the car, his brother tried to catch him by the arm. Edmund didn't quite shake off the hand, but it was clear that it was unwanted as he walked by. A series of 'Ed's assailed him, growing in volume, and by the end of the third one, he pounced.

Peter had literally toppled him to the grass, holding him down with both arms and legs in a locked position. Susan and Lucy glanced at them in mild amusement. Their mother didn't even bat an eyelash and called out that someone was supposed to get the groceries at some point that day. She was already used to these passionate outbursts between her boys.

"Edmund Pevensie, you are going to tell me right now and right here what is bothering you or I swear-"

Edmund struggled indignantly, but he could hardly budge and it was obvious who was stronger. Peter cocked an eyebrow, smiling.

"If you think you're getting out of this, you're seriously mistaken."

He had a flashback to a time when there had been a golden beard on that face.

"Will there ever be a day when you don't tackle me to the ground every time I don't want to talk to you?" Edmund asked tiredly, catching his breath. "I mean, there has got to be a better way-"

"No, there isn't and you're changing the subject," Peter interrupted flatly.

There was an unspoken expression of 'I know you too well already' behind his stern eyes and it was clear who was looking at him at that moment. Unknown to most people, there had been a cataclysmic shift in the Pevensie family structure around twenty years ago although it only seemed like five and nothing had ever been the same again. When he had been ten, their father had left for the army, all four children had been sent to the countryside and then they had entered a new world entirely.

After becoming Kings and Queens in this beautiful and wondrous land, they had still been nothing but children with no definite, authority figure, excepting Aslan of course, to guide them or personally care for them. There were assistants, advisors and any number of kind individuals, loyal to their monarchs, but this was no replacement for an individual who would unite the family and lead it. Ultimately, Peter had taken on this role and had even surprised himself by how easily he slipped into it. It had been only natural, right from the start.

Edmund had a father who was coming back to England in two weeks, but he also had another, much more familiar two parts brother - one part father unit, who was right there on top of him, demanding to know why he had been so coldly ignored when they hadn't seen each in five whole days.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked in a softer tone. "Have I been a thoughtless idiot again?"

Edmund didn't say anything - not because he wanted to be stubborn, but rather he didn't know how to word it. Peter released his forearms, seeing that he wouldn't fight against him and sat like that for a few minutes.

"Is it the fishing trip? Because I broke my promise?"

"A little bit," he conceded in a small voice.

Peter sighed and squinted at the sky.

"I'm sorry, Ed. That was wrong of me."

He leaned down and touched his face.

"I really do mean that."

Edmund looked to the side, determinedly not looking at him.

"I know," he mumbled.

"What's the rest of it then?"

He really hated being cornered like this. It had all been his fault that it had escalated into this, though. He should have just gotten it over with and hugged him at church.

Would it really have been so hard?

Seeing that he was still silent, Peter let out another gust of breath and stood up. Edmund was surprised. Reading his expression, his brother rolled his eyes.

"I'm not just giving up, you blockhead."

He blinked.

"Time. I'm giving you time. You obviously need some before we can get to the bottom of this."

Peter narrowed his eyes at Edmund's relief and pointed a finger at him.

"Mark my words, I'll find out sooner or later."

Lucy was watching from the front door and giggled at them as they entered the house.

"All made up, then?" she queried.

Peter shot him a searching, weary gaze.

"Not completely, buttercup."

"Hmm."

Edmund squirmed under their scrutiny and quickly ran down the hall, thinking of something to get him out of the house and away from everyone for the better part of the day. None of any of his school friends lived remotely close to their neighborhood and he didn't really have any clever excuses. Finally, he picked up a large book and decided to go to the park.

"I am going out," he dramatically announced to his mother, proud that he could say this.

"Oh, all right," she replied cheerfully, continuing to wash the dishes. "But, get the groceries while you're doing that, dear."

Edmund stared at her in disappointment at the lack of reaction.

"And, where is that to exactly, Ed?" he heard from behind him.

Swiveling around, his brother was leaning casually against the open doorway of the kitchen. Both eyebrows were raised and it was an intimidating picture.

"Some - somewhere," Edmund got out defiantly.

Peter eyed the book under his arm and understood immediately, rubbing his forehead and breathing out heavily.

"Of all the - Come off it, Edmund. You aren't really going to spend all day in the park reading to avoid me, are you? What if it rains? You'll get sick. You always get sick during this time of year-"

"I'm - I'm not! I have a friend. I'm going to see a friend, Peter. You're not the only one who has friends!"

Peter wrinkled his brow.

"I know that you have friends, Edmund. I know your friends. I've made it a habit to know them. But, unless I'm mistaken, I'm pretty sure there aren't any close ones around here and I don't want you to hang around in a park by yourself-"

Edmund huffed in frustration.

"Well, I've made a new one - so there! While you were off with 'Freddy-whatever-his-name-is' I made a new one!"

He tried to push past him, but Peter didn't let him through and instead took a hold of his chin, examining him.

"You're behaving very childishly today," he noted, as if to himself. "Have I been neglecting you? I've left the house to see friends before and you weren't this odd when I came back."

Frustrated by the lack of power needed to get by his git of a brother, he flailed uselessly against him. Eventually, Peter began to shift and Edmund took this opportunity to tickle a side of him that always caused his brother to react violently so that he could be easily sidestepped. This worked, like it usually did, and he dashed off out the door while the blonde eighteen-year-old gasped for air.

It did rain later, just as Peter had thought it would, and this was how Edmund ended up trudging home at the present time, clutching at his dripping groceries and wishing that he had brought an umbrella.

One thing was for sure, his overprotective, older brother wasn't going to be happy when he saw the state of how soaked he was. Racing to the cover of the porch, he shook the water out of his hair before knocking on the door. Susan answered with an impatient look on her face.

"Finally. It's about time you got back," she told him, swinging the door open.

"It's nice to see you too, Susan," he greeted, his nose twitching.

She sighed in exasperation.

"Well, come on in already. Peter's about to open his letter and he might have a fit before he does if he sees you like that."

Edmund shuffled in, taking off his shoes, and then thought about what she had said.

"Letter?"

His sister tossed her head to the side.

"You know, the letter."

He straightened up slowly.

"I'm afraid I don't."

She rolled her eyes.

"Come on. What kind of a letter would Peter be waiting for right about now?"

Warning bells were beginning to ring in his head, but he didn't want to listen to them. Lucy suddenly appeared behind her and sent her sister a warning look.

"That's enough," she cut her off, in a much sharper tone than she usually spoke with. "Never mind, Edmund. Come with me and get out of those wet clothes."

He allowed himself to be led by the small thirteen-year-old up the stairs and changed in his room.

His mind was whirling in circles and his insides felt rather numb.

With heavy footsteps, he walked down the hallway and stopped at the top of the staircase.

There was excited yelling and jubilant shouts, but Edmund was far from happy about it.

Halfway down, he could understand what his mother and Susan were saying.

"Oh, Peter dear! We always knew that you were brilliant...your father told me so many times, even when you were little. Your father would say to me, 'Helen, that boy, that boy-"

"I can't believe it - do you even understand what this means? Oh, you never do, do you! You're going to be counted in high society now. You'll have no trouble at all finding an upper class wife...and that means that I'll be upper class by relation!"

"Susan, darling, I don't really want to get married right now..."

Stiffly, although he had no idea why he would do it, he reached the bottom step in order to take in the scene with his own eyes.

His oldest sister was flushed and jumping up and down. His mother was equally pleased, but managed to control herself.

Lucy sat on the counter and there was sympathy when she caught his eye.

Peter, last of all, seemed a bit dazed, but held the paper steadily in his hands - a letter that had a large 'University of Oxford' seal on the very top.

University.

That was a word that he had unconsciously almost erased from his vocabulary.

Edmund's breath caught in his throat and he almost choked on it. The small sound was enough to make his brother's head turn and their line of sight connected. He registered the split-second that it took for Peter to finally process what exactly had been wrong with him.

He let go of the letter and it floated softly to the floor.

"Oh, Edmund," he exhaled with feeling.

Edmund didn't want to hear it and ran back upstairs.

The truth was that he hadn't been upset by the fact that this person's name was 'Frederic Townsen' and it sounded silly to him.

He hadn't been upset by the fact that for once in an admittedly, very long time Peter had spent more than one day with a person that wasn't Edmund.

He had been upset by the fishing trip, but that was really only a detail.

The real reason why Edmund was upset was because his brother, the person he loved the most in the entire world, would soon be abandoning him for a strange, new place that Edmund didn't know anything about and said brother had decided to waste a chunk of the precious time, which Edmund had been treasuring and savoring, until their separation with a goofball called 'Frederic', not really caring either way.

Peter was leaving and it scared him to death.

Author's Note: New chapter coming up :)