Author's note: Thanks once again to Silverwhitepoison for beta-ing!

To all my sweet reviewers: Thank you so much for reviewing my previous two pieces, everyone! I'm very glad you liked them. Because of that I wrote this for you guys. ;D I hope you like it. +shifts nervously around on her feet+

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Burdened Repentance

I'm standing here at the edge of our tent, watching you. You are preparing for battle. I admire the way you handle things so quickly and neatly, especially since you and I were just told of Aslan's death. I can't believe you are only three years older than me and yet you've done the job of a grown up since I was born. And now you are the leader in a battle.

I can't believe I was a traitor. I can't believe I sold you, Susan, and Lucy out. It's because of me Aslan is dead, otherwise the Witch would never have come to the camp. I should be killed for my evil deeds. But you took me in again and you allowed me a second chance. I'll never be able to repay you.

I look away for a moment, realizing for perhaps the first time how much danger you are in. You could die and I'm not ready to accept that.

Your face is solemn as you give orders and strategize. Oreius is by your side, steadfast as ever. A wave of envy crashes over me. It's me who should be standing next to you lending aid and support. I guess I'm too horrible for that.

But I do believe in you. I already told you that, but I never let you know that I always have. Even when you were unsure of yourself I didn't doubt.

Oreius murmurs something to you, but you shake your head firmly. The stately centaur seems to know how to deal with stubborn leaders, because moments later you nod and come towards our tent. I suppose he told you to rest.

I can see the concern in your eyes. And I can read the exhaustion off your face. I'm very glad Oreius is there to do this. I could never have convinced you.

You give me a tired smile and you shake my shoulder in a brotherly fashion as you pass. Then you're gone. It may have been a simple gesture to you, but the mere touch and gentle smile directed at me from someone I betrayed so blindly means more than anyone could know. The fact that you trust me not to run off again means the world to me.

It's almost time to assemble. The sun is suddenly too bright. I'm terrified. Not for my own life, but for yours. I'm terrified I'll lose you. If you die, Peter, I'll revive you and kill you.

Don't die, Peter. Please don't die. For the sake of this pathetic yet repentant boy, your brother, don't die.

As I push aside the flap to our tent to wake you, I can see your pure face, angelic in its rest. A single thought crosses my mind: my brother is magnificent.

I love you, Peter. I hope you realize that.