Edmund barely woke up when Peter gasped awake. As Edmund's sleepy eyes adjusted to being awake, he saw Peter had bolted upright.

"Pete?" Edmund groggily said. When Edmund properly could see again, he saw the evident fear in Peter that made Edmund rise from his resting position. Peter's breathing was rapid; his arms were wrapped around himself protectively. Edmund moved to go closer to him when Peter held out his arms.

"No, no, please, stop," Peter pleaded. It stopped all Edmund's movements, Peter's voice raspy and defeated. "Just leave me alone."

"Pete, it's me," Edmund urged after a pause.

Peter never looked at him fully; he just shook his head. There was disbelief in his eyes.

"Stop, please, I can't keep seeing him," Peter begged. Peter's fingers racked through his hair. "I can't take this anymore."

"This is not a vision," Edmund told him, hoping his conviction would convey the truth. "You and I are both real here. We rescued you yesterday. You are safe."

Peter just shook his head.

"Please, stop telling me that," Peter pleaded, his words breaking Edmund's heart.

"I speak the truth, Peter. We defeated them. This is real. You are free," Edmund did not know what to do. His words were not working. He moved a bit closer to Peter, but that only made things so much worse.

"Don't hurt me!" Peter cried. "Please, stop, please."

Peter clung onto his own arms as he leaned forward, his face nearly brushing the ground in front of him. Terrible cries left him. But his cries soon shifted to hyperventilating, and that only seemed to make his panic even worse.

"Peter, just try to breathe. It is okay. I am not going to hurt you," Edmund quickly reassured. Peter was hardly breathing through his panic. He was visibly trembling. "Just breathe. You are not there. You are safe," Edmund kept saying.

Nothing was helping. Edmund was trying to rack his brain for some way of helping Peter, but he found none. He could not even really think of a solution. Edmund did not know what to do. Seeing Peter distressed like this was frightening. Edmund was doing all he could not to freak out himself. Peter needs me to remain strong, he kept reminding himself.

Aside from Peter's rapid breathing and his panicked cries, he was now silent on pleas. Not a word left him. Edmund kept saying words of reassurance, but he had no means of understanding if they were working. That was when he remembered.

"You need to focus on something," Edmund said quietly. It could ground him. Maybe, make him feel like this was real.

Edmund quickly pulled off the golden lion chain he always wore. It was a present from Lucy; Peter would recognize it. And he hoped it was something that the Witch would not replicate. Very slowly, Edmund held out the necklace to Peter. Peter flinched terribly as his breathing intensified at the closeness. Edmund kept his hand in place.

Gently, Peter looked at the necklace. At first, he looked rather confused until he frowned. After some time, he gingerly took it out of Edmund's hand, clutching between his fingers. He closed his eyes.

At a painfully slow rate, Peter's breathing finally evened. He was still terribly shaking, but at least, he was no longer hyperventilating. He was sweating, yet shivering.

When he finally did open his eyes, he looked dazed. Then he looked down at the necklace in his hand. He seemed awfully sad at the sight.

"I still remember the day Lucy gave that to me," Edmund said. "It was the anniversary of our first year reigning together."

"I remember," Peter quietly agreed. When he looked at Edmund, he appeared the epitome of misery. Peter's breathing was calming down. His cheeks were still stained with his tears.

"You are not there with her," Edmund said. "She is gone."

"Yeah," Peter quietly replied, nodding his head. Edmund was relieved that Peter, at least, did not worry about being with the White Witch. His relief was short-lived and incorrect.

"I promise, you are safe here, Pete," Edmund reassured. "No one is going to hurt you."

This time, Edmund saw that Peter did not believe him.


Susan's heart had been in her throat the moment she received the message from Edmund. The entire way they sped as fast as they could to get to the White Witch's castle. They had been almost a day away when she received her second message from Edmund, the one telling her that Peter was safe and alive.

It was a vague and short response. It eased the most prominent concerns for Susan, of course. Now, all that remained was just seeing Peter again.

She wanted to give him a big hug and tell him she loved him. Honestly, she only thought about holding her two brothers in her arms.

It was not until she arrived at their campsite a few miles north of the Western Woods that she knew something was wrong. Everything was quiet. Far too quiet.

Her people worn seldom faces and hung shoulders. She would have thought they came into a defeat by their looks.

Ordinarily, any camp, even before a battle, was lively. But there was hushed voices amongst her soldiers. As she crossed over to where she saw Phillip, she saw Edmund first. He seemed grave as usually with a heavy weight resting around him, even from this distance she could tell.

He barely saw her before she raced over to him.

"Susan, thank Aslan, you are here," he softly said. A small chuckle that vaguely resembled a happy emotion came from Edmund.

"Where is he?" She whispered as she held Edmund. She pulled away from him, looking at his sleepy eyes and worn face.

"He is right in there," Edmund said, gesturing to the tent not too far from them. His voice shifted to urgency, "And Susan—"

He never finished his warning, for Peter stepped right out of the tent to her right as he spoke. Edmund's voice halted to a stop.

The first thing she felt was angry, deep anger that wanted to boil up and explode. Then a terrible grief coursed through her. Because standing before her, terribly thinned and scarred, was her sweet brother. Faded and fresh bruises reflected off his skin. And he was so pale. He scarcely looked like the same brother she had seen only about a week ago.

Astonishment took over his face as he looked at her.

She expected him to smile as he always did when he saw her. He did not. No, this time, his expression never changed. He just seemed astounded.

Feeling herself a bit hesitant, she cleared the distance between them. She pulled him into a hug, feeling the way he tensed as she did. It took him a few moments to ease into her hold.

"It's really you, Susan?" His voice was hollow and skeptical.

"I am here now," she promised. She held the back of his head, keeping him close. "I am so sorry, Peter," she whispered to him. His hold only tightened in response.

She was not exactly sure these words of apology quite covered everything. She just needed him to know that she was truly sorry.

He suffered for days, and they did not find him nearly soon enough.

When they broke apart, Peter's face was calmer. Still, there was a great deal of tension surrounding him.

She cupped his cheek. He flinched away. She recoiled her hand.

"I—" Peter started, his eyes averted. She had never seen him look so—so defeated. "I'm sorry."

She just put on her best smile, telling him that it was all right. But none of this was. He should not be flinching at her touch. He should not be afraid or nervous. Not here. Not with her.

All of this was wrong.

"Hey," Edmund took a few cautious steps towards them. Both of their attention went to him, Peter's much slower than Susan's did. "How about we rest for a bit and then we can start heading back to the Cair?"

Edmund and Susan both eyed Peter. He blinked a couple of times at him before he nodded.

"That would be a great idea," Susan agreed, though she was not certain herself.

Please, let home help Peter.


They had been travelling for a good part of the rest of the day back home. Oddly enough, Susan noticed that Peter said absolutely nothing the entire time. Even when they attempted to speak with him, he just used nonverbal responses, even when the question was more in-depth than a simply head shake.

Susan's worrying only grew when they had stopped for a few hours of rest. She had found Lady Wan, asking her about Peter's wellbeing. Her lack of information did not make her worries feel any ease. Instead, Lady Wan's words only made her feel worse.

"His majesty is not eating, my Queen," Lady Wan informed her. She looked not pleased either.

"Where is he?" She asked a bit harsher than she meant.

"I do not know, my Queen," Lady Wan replied. "I simply know that he has refused any sort of basic need, despite needing them. Perhaps, your gentle touch will be what he needs."

Susan was not sure if she could actually succeed in a task like this, but she was going to try anyway. She found Peter sitting in the shade, resting his back on the tree he was sitting under. Based on his troubled frown, she figured he was lost in his own thoughts. Susan was surprised that Edmund was not with him, but then, she noticed Edmund was talking with their officers. Even in the short while she was with Peter, she noticed he did not interact with anyone other than Susan or Edmund, even if it was only brief.

"Peter," she alerted him prior to approaching. He turned and looked at her. No smile was there. Not even an inflection like there was an attempt to be one. "May I sit with you?"

After a few seconds, he nodded. His eyes cautiously watched her as she sat next to him. She waited a moment as she gathered her thoughts. She had to approach this gently.

"Peter," she said, working to keep her voice steady. "You have to eat." Peter shook his head. "I know you might not want to, but you must." Peter furrowed his brow as he thought. When he did not speak again though, she said, "Starving to death is not the answer."

"I don't want to eat," Peter answered quietly.

"Why?"

"I don't know," he replied. And she believed him. She could see it by his defeated composure.

"Is it the food itself? Because I can fetch you something you would like?" When he shook his head to indicate she was wrong, she asked, "What can I do to get you to drink and eat?"

"When I think of eating anything, I want to be sick," Peter answered. "Drinking is only worse."

"Why?" Susan asked before she could stop herself. "I am sorry. I should not—"

Peter looked away, closing his eyes as if it was all too much to bear before he actually gave her an answer, "She forced water down my throat when I refused to drink."

Susan was not sure what she was expecting, but that certainly was not it. Susan was terrified to know what that ordeal was like. It must have been horrifying. Her heart broke in a million pieces.

How many horrors did Peter have to deal with? What did that awful Witch do to him?

"I am so sorry, Peter," was all that Susan managed to say. Peter did not say anything in response. It was not as if anything either of them could say would make it fine.

Peter just took a steadying breath, not uttering another word. She did not blame him. If that was only a glimpse at what Peter had endured, she understood his hesitancy around all of them. That was probably only a minor scratch at the surface. It was probably nothing compared to all that he went through.

Susan did not know what to say in response to him, and therefore, chose to move on.

"How about I make you a deal? Every piece you eat, Edmund and I shall eat the same amount as well." This seemed to remotely peak his brotherly interest. He, at least, looked at her with a near blank expression. "All three of us will be properly fed, and we will not see Edmund become a grouch when hungry," she offered.

He seemed to consider it for a moment before he quietly agreed. But despite agreeing, the actual process of eating was a struggle to say the least. He refused almost everything they gave him. He nearly panicked the entire time.

After much resistance, Peter ended up eating barely any food. Much less than anyone would have wanted. But it was more than he had before. It had taken him over two hours to eat a few pieces of bread and drink some water. That was it.

Small victory, she concluded to herself. She was hoping that once she got back to the Cair, and with the support of Lucy and Oreius, they could get Peter to want to eat and take care of himself.

Not long after he finished did Peter express that he was tired and excused himself to sleep for a few hours.

As he left, Edmund's worried stare followed him all the way to his tent.

"I know that look," Susan said. Edmund's frown did not leave him, even as she continued to speak. "Are you worried about Peter going to sleep? He will be safe here, I promise."

"You weren't here this morning when he woke up," Edmund stated. "Susan, he completely panicked." After only a dreadful moment, he explained, "He thought he was still with her. He begged me not to hurt him."

That rage boiled against Susan's chest once more. Edmund should not have had to experience that nor should Peter have to deal with any of this in the first place.

What had truly happened to Peter behind those walls? What had the White Witch done to him? Susan shuddered at these possibilities.

"Is she dead?"

Edmund knew exactly whom she was talking about.

"Yes," he answered before adding, "but she was supposed to be dead before."

There was hauntedness around Edmund. One she knew he was trying to deal with on his own.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Susan asked. "Any of it?"

He gave a bit of thought before answering, "I don't think I am ready yet. I think once we get home, at least, this will part will be over." He looked over at the tent where Peter had entered.

"Going home should help him," she said.

"Or make it worse," Edmund countered bitterly.

"You cannot always be a pessimist, Edmund," she teased lightly. She had the same doubts herself.

He gave her an amused smile, remarking, "Yes, I absolutely can be, especially around the three of you. You are all far too positive."

"We are all the right proportion of optimistic," she claimed. "Besides, normally I am much closer to your level of gloom."

This caused him to laugh, not completely but enough to ease a bit of her overwhelming feelings.

After some time after his laughing, Edmund sighed sadly, "I wish none of this ever happened."

She had to agree. Looking at Peter now, she was terrified at what was to come. She was frightened to know what truly had happened to her brother.

But all she managed to say was, "Me too."