Author's note: Thanks to Silverwhitepoison for checking my grammar, punctuation, and spelling!
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Peter wondered where the Narnians had learned to throw parties. Even in England he'd never seen such lively merrymaking in any of the rich peoples' houses.
However, Peter wasn't truly into the celebration. Being crowned as High King that day hadn't been as wonderful as he'd expected. Something bitter nagged at him and detatched him from the celebrations.
He bid his admirers farewell, saying he was going to greet another. He felt guilty for lying to the honest Narnians, but he couldn't remain there in his current mindframe. He slipped out of the main hall and swiftly fetched a cloak from his room. Then he took the long route to the gardens.
As he reached the gardens, he felt an instant release on some of his anxieties. The small stream that ran through them gave off a sense of calmness. Peter picked a sturdy tree and leaned against it in relief. Then he thought about his discomforts.
He wondered briefly if Edmund was the reason for his disquiet. The younger boy was usually the base to Peter's mental problems. Yes, Peter decided, his brother was the reason for his discomfort. But this time Edmund hadn't done anything bad to cause it. Quite the contrary in fact. He'd saved Peter's life by putting his own in danger. He'd very nearly lost it in the process as well.
Peter angrily threw a rock into the water. He was the one who was supposed to protect his siblings like that, not the other way around. Dear Edmund. The black sheep in their family. Peter wished their Mum and Dad could see how much the dark-headed youth had changed.
How he wished he could love his brother openly the way he could with Susan and Lucy. Maybe it was because Edmund was hard to comprehend. He had always been hard to understand. Peter still didn't quite know his brother.
The young king stood and began to wander restlessly. Why hadn't he been easier on Edmund? It was all his fault the fourteen-year-old had been deceitful and disobedient. He'd thought Aslan could change him. But the lion had refused to take part in it, advising that Peter let things take their natural course. Perhaps Edmund was already fully reconciled by his experience in Narnia. It certainly seemed that way, but Peter couldn't bring himself to raise his hopes about it. He'd already had them crushed more times than he cared to count.
He kicked at the ground in frustration. Peter the Magnificent. The one who'd nearly been the downfall of his little brother. He clenched his fist and made to swing at a tree, but remembered last second that they were alive and slammed it into a boulder instead. He felt the skin split, but he didn't care. A gentle breeze brushed at his face, making him aware of the tears that had fallen. It was a newer sensation to him. He'd never allowed himself to cry before, for fear one of his siblings would see him. It wasn't out of spite. He'd always had a strong parental instinct and didn't want to scare them. He had to be strong for them.
"You're going to have to clean that hand up, you know." A soft voice startled him. He spun around, sword coming out of it's sheath with a metallic ring.
He felt stupid two seconds later when Edmund's wiry frame took shape among the lengthening shadows. He blushed coolly and resheathed Rhindon, quickly reaching up to scrub the tears from his face.
"Tense, are we?" Edmund asked, his dark eyes glittering in slight amusement.
Praying his voice sounded normal, Peter cleared his throat. "Shouldn't you be celebrating?"
Too late. His voice sounded husky, as if he hadn't used it in a while.
"Shouldn't you?" the younger boy countered.
Peter shrugged. "I fancied a walk," he said vaguely.
A sigh and Edmund sat at the base of a tree, "Honestly, Peter, the Narnians would have let you go. You had no need to lie to them." Edmund was silent a moment before adding, "and you don't need to lie to me either."
Peter glanced at him swiftly, eyebrows raised fractionally. Here was his formerly deceitful brother telling him he shouldn't lie. He began to say something, but thought better of it and returned to his restless fiddling with his cloak hem.
"They almost sent out a search party when they couldn't find you," Edmund continued casually. "I volunteered to go alone."
Peter didn't respond. Edmund eyed him closely. Maybe a lighter subject.
"We get our own rooms, you know." He could have kicked himself for that. It wasn't what he'd meant to say.
"That's nice," Peter managed thickly. He'd finally sat down and was now absently pulling up grass.
"Why did you really come out here?" Edmund asked abruptly.
Peter shrugged. Edmund looked at him knowingly, "It's me, isn't it?" he asked quietly.
"Why would you think that?" asked Peter a little too quickly. He refused to meet his brothers gaze.
Edmund smiled sadly and pushed his lengthening hair from his eyes, "Well, I'm usually the cause for problems and such. It's just a guess."
He sighed and looked at the small stream bubbling serenely.
"And I'm guessing you can't quite see the just side in me yet." He hugged his knees to his chest and added in a whisper, "I can't."
Peter lifted his shoulders noncommittally, "I can see your justness, Ed. It's my title I can't settle with. I'm having a hard time seeing myself as magnificent right now."
Edmund looked at him gravely, "That is one of many reasons you are magnificent."
Peter flinched and looked away. "I can't award myself that title. Not after how I've treated you."
"Me?" Edmund stared at him curiously.
"I didn't treat you the way I should have. I was harder on you than I ever was with the girls," said Peter softly. "I never let you know I actually cared. I never told you I was proud of you or that I loved you." He shook his head, "I'm responsible for putting you through all of your trials."
Edmund smirked, albeit gently, "I highly doubt that, Peter."
Peter's hands curled into white-knuckled fists. "If I hadn't been so harsh to you all the time-"
"Peter, look," Edmund interrupted fiercely. "The only thing you are allowed to take responsibility for is my turnaround. Anything bad that happened, all my hardships and shame, was solely my fault. Don't you dare blame yourself."
Peter didn't answer. All Edmund could see was the back of his blond head. The younger king sighed and crawled around to face him. Baby-blue eyes reluctantly met Edmund's darker ones.
"You're my brother, Peter. I know you were doing what you felt was best. I may not have thought so at the time, but I subconsiously knew it all the time." Edmund reached out and pushed Peter's bangs away from his forehead. "And even if you're being a complete prat, you'll always be Peter the Magnificent to me."
Peter's face was twisted into an odd expression of restrained pain and sorrow. Edmund eyed him in concern.
"Peter?" he asked tentatively, "Peter, talk to me." He paused a moment before adding with a certain amount of trepidation, "I love you. I hope you know that."
Peter, with a sudden sob, pulled him into a crushing hug.
"I love you too, Ed," he choked, tears finally flooding his angelic face. "I love you too."
Edmund comfortingly wrapped his arms around his brother and returned the hug.
"And I used to think you couldn't cry." He teased gently.
Peter gave a hollow chuckle, "I guess I'm not as strong as you may have thought."
Edmund shrugged, feeling himself grow sleepy. "I think you are," he said tiredly.
He pulled away and sat next to Peter, his eyelids drooping heavily. He put his head against the older teen's chest, as he wasn't quite tall enough to reach his shoulder. Peter ruffled Edmund's hair fondly before putting an arm around him.
"Thanks, Edmund," he whispered.
And that was how Susan found them the next morning. She'd wondered where the two had gotten last night. It seemed they had reconciled, much to her delight. She went to fetch Lucy. Her little sister would want to see them before they woke.