Shopping with Diggory had been an interesting affair for Peter, to say the least. It had also been a bit awkward with Edmund there, as well. It was obvious, as well as expected, that Diggory had a great love for the little village near the manor. The professor had chosen manor and grounds for their similarities to Narnia it was true, but he had also chosen to make the location home due to the charming little village not an hour's carriage ride from the front gates. Though it was obvious that wartime had subdued what must have been a very lively little community, the people were still charming, and what little commerce they had seemed to be fairing pretty well with people like Diggory and other manor owners frequenting their little shops to avoid the danger of large cities like London where the bombing had occurred.

Diggory chatted with every store owner they came into contact with, and each one seemed very fond of the older Narnian. When introduced, Edmund and Peter were greeted like old friends or darling younger brothers. The owners of the clothing store, a charming older couple maybe ten years older than the Pevensie's own parents with a son on the front, insisted on gifting the clothes to Peter and Edmund once they discovered that the boys had arrived with only the shirts on their backs.

Being unable to convince them otherwise, and not wanting to offend, both young kings had thanked the owners profusely, and offered to help move the shipment that had just arrived at the store off the delivery truck. The owners accepted the free labor, and invited the boys by for tea. Edmund murmured to Peter as they left that "They're very much like the Beavers, aren't they?" Peter found himself nodding in silent agreement, and hiding a small smile by tapping his fingers against his lips as if he were thinking. He conveniently "forgot" that Edmund knew this disguise, having seen it in negotiation rooms when Peter had found another dignitary, or something Edmund had said, funny, but didn't want them to know he was laughing, inside.

No, Peter enjoyed meeting the villagers, and conversing with Diggory, and watching the older professor bustle around. What made the trip awkward was the fitting for the clothes. Being "brothers", the owners didn't think they needed to be separated for the taking of measurements, and in Narnia it wouldn't have been an issue. But this wasn't Narnia, and they weren't just "brothers". Edmund had always had a possessive streak, they both had, and seeing the other be poked and prodded for a fitting had always set off a little zing of "mine". It wasn't that they didn't like their tailors in Narnia, and the definitely liked the owners of the little shop in the village, but seeing someone else's hands so intimately on his spouse always made Edmund stare like a hawk. Peter could feel the brunette's eyes on him as they were fitted for the clothing in the store. In the past, he would have been staring back just as intensely. Edmund was his just as much as he was Edmund's.

Peter tried to deny, internally, that he still felt that little zing standing in the shop with someone else touching his… Not going there. He is Edmund. That is all.

The whole trip, Peter waited for Edmund to push him away. Waited for a little gang of bully boys to come out of nowhere and convince Edmund that hanging around his "pretty-boy Peter" wasn't done. Part of him knew it was irrational, but he was just waiting for Edmund to revert, to reject him, to deny that he had even tried to talk Peter into giving him another chance. A huge wave of guilt washed over him as he watched Edmund turn a smile his way. Aslan had talked to Edmund. If he couldn't have faith in the Just King, he could at least have faith in his Lord.

Did that mean he was going to take Edmund's proposal back in their suites seriously? Did this mean that he was going to let Edmund court him? Woo him?

What Aslan has brought together, let no man, beast, or being tear asunder.

Taking a deep breath, Peter climbed back into the carriage and headed back to the manor with Diggory and Edmund on either side.

EPPPEPPPEPPPEPPPEPPPEPPP

When night fell, after dinner had been cleared away and the occupants of the house had bid each other a good night, Peter found himself dressed and ready for bed and staring down his…staring down Edmund across the expanse of the four-poster bed.

"I can sleep on the couch, if it pleases my love." Edmund offered, trying to put on a brave face, though the thought of being expelled from his husband's bed was a heart wrenching one. He had spent so many days and nights away from their marriage bed voluntarily that he wouldn't be surprised if Peter did not allow him back in immediately upon his return. "In fact, maybe it would be better—"

"I knew it," Peter growled, his hurt desperately trying to hide behind the anger in his eyes. "I knew you couldn't be serious, couldn't be true. Oh sure, pretty words for the pretty prince in the light of day—"

"Peter, What-?"

"You can't stand to really stick around," Peter's hands joined him in his tirade, waving around and gesturing in his fervor. "Aslan forbid you touch me for longer than it takes to get a point across."

He began turning down the covers and the sheets with jerking movements, his eyes dropping to fix on the task before him. He couldn't bear to look at Edmund, or even let Edmund see the tears of frustration, anger, and hurt hanging in the corners and clouding his vision. He climbed into bed and fluffed his pillow with more force than really necessary, snarling at Edmund as he went.

"Aslan forbid you actually fucking care."

Edmund stared at his husband, who now lay face down in his pillows, in astonishment. Peter rarely, if ever, cursed, and he definitely did not use the trump card of all curses. And in the same sentence with their Lord's name? Never.

Aslan, what have I done!

"Peter," Edmund murmured as he gently turned down the other side of the bed and began to climb under the covers. "My darling love—"

"No," Peter denied as Edmund tried to pull him to his chest. Edmund would not be swayed, and he pulled the High King to his chest despite the hands pressing against him. "No, you can't stay here. I won't let you. No. You go sleep on the couch. It's what you wanted to do, anyway. 'For the better' and all that rot!"

"After that little tirade, I am definitely not sleeping on the couch. I only offered to sleep there because I thought it was what you would want. Peter, be still!" Peter stilled in Edmund's arms, glaring up at him through his lashes. Edmund was relieved for a short second that Peter could still obey him at least on the little things. "I have always wanted to share your bed; our bed. I have never wanted to sleep apart from you. Not since before Lucy met Tumnus."

Peter huffed against his chest.

"Liar."

"What?" Edmund gazed down at Peter in confusion.

"You lie. All of those nights, Edmund. All of those nights I cried myself to sleep after we returned. Where were you then, hm? Where were you when I howled myself to sleep in my pillow and you were only one room away? I know you must've heard me. Our walls were thin, but you never came. You never held me, never touched me, never kissed me, never comforted me, never l-loved me…" Peter's breathing became ragged as tears spilled over his lower lids. He dropped his head to Edmund's chest, clutching Edmund's night shirt and wailing into the fabric a strangled "Whyyyy! Why would you do that to me?" He sobbed.

Edmund held Peter closer to himself, trying to 'shh' Peter and deny his accusation that he had never loved him; trying to assure Peter that he was here now, and that they were going to be okay. Peter wiped his eyes against his balled fists and turned his gaze back up to Edmund, now frantic in his grief.

"What did I do? Tell me what I did to make you hate me so, that you would just leave me to cry out for you night after night. Was I not a good king? Was I a bad lover?" Peter looked away, his eyes roaming the room as if he could spot the answer there in the shadows. "Did I cling to you too fiercely? Oh Aslan! That's it, isn't it!"

Peter looked at his hands clutching to Edmund, and flattened his palms to try and smooth the fabric. He looked up at Edmund with a frightened kind of sorrow, and began trying to push himself away from Edmund.

"I clung to you too tightly, didn't I? I just wanted you so badly, and a held onto you until you just felt confined! I'm sorry! I'm sorry I'm sorry…"

Edmund refused to let Peter go, and drew the distraught king back to his chest.

"No, Peter. No. You didn't do anything wrong. You were right. You were perfect. It was me, my darling. It was me," Edmund held the shuddering blond close to his chest, kissed the crown of that feather soft hair, and rested his cheek against the tresses, gently rocking his love. "I heard you. I did. And I wanted to go to you, so badly. But I was so scared.

I thought we couldn't be together here, and I knew that if I went to you, I'd never leave. If I climbed into bed with you, if I touched you, if I talked to you, I'd break and I'd stay. And Peter? I should have. I should have gone to you, and talked to you, and touched you, and held you. You'll never know just how much I regret never coming for you when you called that first year. And even when you didn't call I should have come for you, anyway. You didn't cling too tightly.

You were an excellent King.

You were the perfect lover."

"Were—"

"Are."

"You said 'were'," Peter sniffed. Edmund wouldn't let him turn away.

"And you were, and you are, and you will be. Peter, you are everything. I'm not leaving, this time. Not now, not ever. If I have to spend eternity proving to you that I love you more than life, that I'll never leave, I will. You're mine, and I'm yours, and that is all. And that is everything."

"Just…Just hold me 'til I'm asleep?" Peter quietly requested, exhaustion setting in, his eyes drooping and his body going slack.

"I'll hold you 'til you wake, my darling husband."

"Just as long as you want to." And Peter was out.

Edmund watched Peter's chest rise and fall.

"If I held you that long, my love, you'd never feel the absence of my arms, again," He kissed Peter's crown once more. "Sweet dreams, my husband."

Edmund followed Peter into sleep, hoping that this night had been progress, and that he wouldn't wake to another day of cold Peter, as he had on the train.

AN: AH HA! Another chapter! Look at me go! ;) I know this was an awful lot of angst. You might want to keep your arms and legs inside the ride at all times. It's going to be an emotional rollercoaster for a while. But, hey! That's what happens when you deal with this much history and love between lovers. I'm avoiding calling them "ex-lovers", but I hope it's coming across that that is how Peter views their relationship. Don't forget the bridge, people! He divorced them in his mind. Edmund has a long road ahead of him, in order to convince Peter that they are still very much married.

Honestly, this story writes itself. I had something completely (well…not completely…but) different in mind for this chapter, but they just kind of took over, and then Peter had to have a breakdown. Ah! I keep trying to get to the courting, and Edmund is totally for it, but then Peter has another angst moment and I can't just ignore him. He kind of started the whole story, to begin with. Anyway, I may have to skip the preview, as I'll be writing from note memory. The original computer with my story notes got a trojan, and now has to be wiped. Thankfully, I didn't lose TOO many notes, and I still have the previews I had given you in other chapters. *Snarls*

Anyway, Please READ AND REVIEW! : ) My Anon review should be enabled now. I can't respond to Anon, so I hope you sign in. ; ) As always, I don't own, I borrow. And Flames are used to heat my apt.