Disclaimer: Peter and Edmund Pevensie and all the characters and situations in the Chronicles of Narnia belong to C. S. Lewis and not to me.

Chapter Twenty-Six

"My King?"

Edmund blinked, blinded by a sudden blaze of light. "Oreius."

The General held a torch above his head, lighting the tower room, the ordinary tower room at the top of just four flights of stairs. It was empty, as empty as it had been the two previous nights, empty but for the General standing over him, the girl huddled over the old man in her arms, and Peter–

"Peter," Edmund breathed, seeing his brother's limp form sprawled on the floor, utterly still.

"He's dead," Linnet sobbed, cradling the wizened body she held, the body that had once been her uncle's, the body that had at the last been Peter's. "He's dead. He's dead."

Edmund touched one hand to the sagging throat and felt no pulse of life. His heart lurched. Oh, Aslan, out of your mercy–

He scrambled to the other body, the one the Efreet had been driven from. Peter's.

"Aslan, please," Edmund whispered as he laid his hand against the motionless chest. "Please."

Oreius and Linnet both watched with anxious eyes as Edmund moved his hand from Peter's chest to his throat.

"Peter," he pled, hardly able to choke out the word. "Come on, Pete. Don't be gone. Please don't be gone."

What felt like eternity passed with no response. Aslan, Aslan.

Finally, the Centaur lowered his head, and the girl broke into fresh sobs.

"No," she murmured, catching up Peter's hand and pressing it to her wet cheek. "Peter, Peter, no."

No. Not now. Not today.

Everything inside him refusing to concede, Edmund took Peter's other hand, squeezing it as hard as he was able. "Peter William Pevensie! Get up, you great, lazy lummox!" Tears sprang to his eyes. "I mean it, Peter. I mean–" He squeezed harder as his voice broke. "Peter, please don't go."

He caught a hard breath when he felt that hand squeeze back. Or had it?

"Peter?"

Again there was only utter stillness. Linnet and Oreius both were motionless, a look in their eyes that said they hardly dared hope. But there it was again, Peter's hand clutching Edmund's. Linnet clasped his other hand against her heart and then against her lips, laughing and crying all at once.

"Peter," Edmund breathed, shifting his brother's head into his lap. "Peter?"

Peter drew a great heaving breath, and his eyes fluttered open. He looked from Edmund to Oreius and Linnet and then back again, fearful and uncertain.

"Ed? What–"

He pulled his hand free of Edmund's and held it up, flexing the fingers, squeezing it into a strong fist, and then patting it up along his chest to his face. His lips trembled into a smile.

"I'm– Oh, Ed, I'm not–"

"No, you're not in Duke Janin's body anymore." Edmund dashed his sleeve across his eyes and managed to scowl. "You're just as magnificent as you ever were, High King."

Peter laughed faintly and then squeezed his eyes shut, drawing shaky, relieved breaths as he reached back to catch hold of Edmund's arm. "I thought I had dreamed it all, the fear, the weakness, the pain. Oh, Eddie, the pain in that body. I was almost relieved when I thought I was going to die."

Linnet still clasped Peter's hand. "You are back now. Where you belong." She looked down at what was left of her uncle, gray eyes filled with pain. "I can't believe it. I can't believe he was behind everything all along. My own uncle."

"I don't know for sure," Edmund said, "but I doubt your uncle ever came back from Calormen."

Linnet looked at him, confused. "But when my father died–"

Oreius cleared his throat. "Pardon me, Lady Linnet, King Edmund, but the High King needs tending to, and we would all do better for being away from this place."

Edmund looked around. The evil was gone, vanquished by the name of the Lion and His great Father, but the memory of it, of all the evil drawn here by the Efreet, still haunted this tower room. It would be good to leave it.

"Come on, Peter," he said, putting his arm around Peter's shoulders. "Are you all right now?"

Peter struggled up, sitting and then standing with his brother's help and with the help of the lady who still clung to his hand, but he was clearly unsteady on his feet.

"Shall I help you, High King?" Oreius asked, concern in his dark eyes, but Peter merely shook his head.

"I'm all right, Oreius, but if you would, Duke Janin's body–"

"Let it be flung into a pit," the Centaur said, his stern face even more stern than usual.

Linnet bit her lip and looked pleadingly at Peter who squeezed her hand in return.

"He was the Duke of Deerfield, Oreius," Peter said, "and whatever evil was in his body is gone now. For the lady's sake and for her uncle's memory, do us the kindness to take it down to his quarters. We will see it has a suitable burial."

"Thank you," Linnet whispered.

The Centaur made a slight bow. "As you say, High King."

Before long, Peter was settled on a wide sofa in the library with Susan at his side and Lucy at his feet and Linnet at his other side still holding his hand. Edmund couldn't entirely hide a smirk. The Efreet wasn't altogether to blame for Peter's loopy behavior.

Lady Linnet's cheeks turned pink when she realized Edmund was smirking at her. "Uh, tell me, King Edmund, what you meant when you said my uncle had never returned from Calormen. How could that be?"

Edmund's smirk faded. "It's all conjecture at this point, of course, My Lady, but knowing what we know now, I can't help but wonder if, while he was studying in Tashbaan, your uncle might not have dabbled in some 'harmless' dark magic. If he happened to come upon this Efreet and fell under its spell, seduced by its promises of power, then that might explain your father's sudden death."

Oreius nodded. "I have heard it is not uncommon for one of these creatures to take a life, the life of someone inconvenient to the one it wishes to ensnare, as a show of good faith. Proof of its power and promise of supernatural aid."

"It's certainly possible," Edmund said, "and that would explain why Janin didn't need to even be present when Duke Jan was murdered. But when the Efreet finally took possession of Duke Janin's body, it must have been furious to know that body was already dying, and dying of a most painful disease. No doubt it felt it had to find another body, a young, strong body."

"And if it was pleased to rule as a Duke," Susan said, "how much better would it be to reign as King? With everything you told us about what happened in the tower tonight, it all makes sense." She leaned over and put her hand over Peter and Linnet's clasped ones. "Forgive me, Lady Linnet, for doubting you. I merely–"

"You saw what was happening and drew the only logical conclusion," Linnet said shyly. "I do not blame you, Queen Susan."

Lucy smiled at her. "I knew it couldn't be you, but when I saw you out in the middle of the night, after what Susan and Edmund said, I was beginning to wonder, too."

"Forgive me, dear Lucy, for not confiding in you. But I knew things were not right. That is why I followed my uncle up to the tower tonight. All along, I was afraid something was amiss with him, but I did not want to cast suspicion on him unless I was certain."

"He certainly had no such reservations about you, Lady Linnet," Edmund said. "Just tonight, he told me he was certain you broke your old ciaramella so you would have an excuse to bring in the other. The enchanted one."

Linnet shook her head. "No, My Lord. In fact, it was one of the things that made me first wonder about him. There was no reason for him to grab the ciaramella when he stumbled that night. He could have held on to the table or the chair or even my arm, if he had liked, to keep himself from falling. I see now that he had the new one ready, waiting for his first opportunity to send for it."

"But it was the ciaramella that was evil," Peter put in. "Not your music, Lady Linnet. Believe me, just because that Efreet used it for evil, the gift itself is good. I have felt it in myself and in how you have helped others as well. Don't let what has happened lately keep you from using the gift Aslan clearly gave you."

"No," Linnet said softly. "I will not waste His gift."

"And, clearly, it was the Efreet who attracted the Fell since you both came here, Lady Linnet." Oreius bowed formally. "I, too, must apologize for my suspicions against you."

"And I, Lady," Edmund admitted, bowing, too, but not so gravely as the Centaur.

Peter squeezed Linnet's hand, beaming at her. "I told you she was all right, Ed. When are you going to start listening to your big brother?"

"When my big lummox of a brother stops being the target of every Fell creature from here to Cauldron Pool."

"I know," Peter said with a sigh. "I suppose that comes with being High King. Good thing you were clever enough to ask about the pendant."

"Somebody around here has to use his head for something besides holding up a crown."

Peter grinned. "As you can see, Lady Linnet, my brother is very good for my humility."

Susan slipped her arm through his, squeezing it as she did. "My elder brother may trust his heart more than his head, Lady Linnet, but perhaps that is not such a bad thing either. As long as Edmund and I are around to make sure he's reasonably sensible."

"Not too sensible, I hope," Lucy put in, winking at Linnet.

OOOOO

"I am rather surprised, Lady, that your maid has not noticed your absence," Peter said as he walked Linnet back to her quarters later that night. "She is so protective of you, I was beginning to wonder if she might not be the one up to something."

Linnet laughed softly. "She is a heavier sleeper than she will admit, but for all that, she keeps good watch over me, though she would not harm a fly. Unless, of course, that fly dared be forward with me."

"It is nearly dawn, Lady," Peter said. "I hope she is not going to be angry with me for bringing you back at such an hour."

"No, she will understand. She will have to be told about the– About my uncle. I hope that no one else need know anything."

Peter smiled into her worried eyes. "You may rely upon it, Lady. No one will hear anything from us except that the Duke succumbed to his illness." His smile faded as he realized what must certainly follow the death of the Duke of Deerfield. "I– I suppose you must now seek a husband to be the new Duke."

Linnet sighed and looked away from him. "I suppose I must."

His heart sank. "I see that prospect does not please you. Are you yet determined not to love any but the one you gave your heart to already? The one you say is too good for you? If he is so far above you, he must be a King."

There was a sudden twinkle in her eyes, "He is, My Lord."

Peter's heart fell from his gut to his boots. What an idiot he had been. Of course. It all made sense now. "Not . . . Ah. Uh, yes. King Lune is a fine man. Perhaps if you told him how you feel . . ."

Linnet stopped abruptly, staring at him in what looked like disbelief, and then that twinkle came back into her eyes. Oh, those beautiful eyes. Had he only imagined the soft warmth he had seen in them in Archenland and here in Cair Paravel? A warmth that meant more than friendship?

"King Lune is a fine man, My Lord. And old enough to be my father."

"But . . . "

She blushed prettily and then laid her hand over his and started them walking again. "My Lord King, must you make a wanton of me even now?"

"A wan– Of course not, Lady, but–"

"Do you not know, My Lord–" She looked away again, clinging more tightly to his arm. "Do you not know, Peter, that it is you who captured my heart when you were at Anvard all those years ago? How could I possibly care for anyone else?"

Now he was the one who stopped abruptly, staring at her. "Me?"

Idiot. Edmund would be smirking at him if he were here, if he saw the High King of Narnia gaping at a girl as if he were some large-mouthed fish of very low intellect.

Her cheeks were still rose-pink. "You, My Lord. But I dare not imagine–"

She turned those beautiful eyes up at him, and he saw they were glistening with tears.

"Oh, Linnet." He brought her hand to his lips, not daring to say anything for fear he would tell her everything and much more than he should so early in their acquaintance. "I– I know you have responsibilities in Deerfield, especially now that your uncle is gone, but I hope– Please stay with us for a time. I would like you to see more of Narnia, to see if it might be a place you could learn to live in. A place you could learn to love." He looked deeply into her eyes. "Along with her King."

Her lips curved up into a smile. "If you like, My Lord. Though I am not certain I could love either of them very much more than I already do. But, yes, I would like to stay a while and see. It would be very . . . sensible."

With a giggle, she stood tiptoe and touched her lips to his. Then she scurried into her chamber and shut the door behind her.

Not too sensible, Lucy had said, and Peter felt a little tug at the corner of his mouth as he remembered what he had told Edmund not so long ago. Life is a risk. Love is a risk.

A risk well worth taking.

THE END

Author's Note: And there it is. I would love to know what you think. Would you like more Peter and Linnet?

Many, many thanks to Lady Alambiel for brainstorming and pre-reading and lots of fun Narniac discussions during the writing of this whole story. Bless you!