"Edmund!" Peter called as he stopped next to his brother bending over panting heavily since he'd run all the way to where his brother was. Cyrus stopped near the group. "Aloysius, what is going on?" Peter asked frantically.

"High King Peter," Aloysius greeted with a bow. "King Edmund is in pain. I can see it in his eyes. He has been moving much slower than normal but is still struggling to breathe. He denies that anything is wrong."

"Thank you, Aloysius," Peter said kneeling in front of his brother. "Ed, what's going on?"

"Nothing, Pete, leave it alone," Edmund answered sounding absolutely exhausted.

"I don't believe you, Edmund. Why are you having trouble breathing? Why are you in pain?" Peter pressed, his eyebrows furrowed in worry.

"It hurts," Edmund whispered so quietly Peter almost missed it.

"What hurts?" Peter asked struggling to keep his voice calm.

"It hurts to breathe," Edmund answered just as quietly as his last admission.

"Why?" Peter asked now even more worried, but equally as confused.

"Broken ribs, I think. A stitch in my side pulled muscles maybe. Just sore, Peter, really. Leave it alone," came the whispered reply.

"Oh, Ed, from when Lucy fell?" Peter asked. When his younger brother nodded sadly Peter asked, "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"It's nothing. I'm just sore. I've had much worse and survived. I'll live," Edmund replied his voice completely void of emotion.

"Edmund," Peter whispered completely at a loss for what to say.

"Pete, I'm fine. There's nothing you can do anyway, so just leave it! I swear I'm fine," Edmund insisted.

"Ed, you were over a mile behind the rest of the group. You're still struggling to breathe..." Peter argued, but Edmund interrupted.

"Pete, I'm not struggling to breathe. It hurts to breathe. There's a difference. I could take a deep breathe it would just hurt even worse. My ribs are broken. It's to be expected that it hurts to breathe. I'm not dying. I'm just in pain, and it's not even the worse pain I've ever experienced, so leave it be,"

"Edmund, take off your shirt," Peter demanded.

"What? No. I'm fine! I told you! I'm fine!" Edmund insisted.

"If you're so fine then you won't have any problem letting me see just how fine you are!" Peter argued starting to frustrated.

"Pete, let it go," Edmund pleaded.

"Ed, I just want to ensure that you're actually okay. Please don't make me get your sisters involved," Peter tried again.

"Pete, can't we worry about this when we get to Cair Parvel?" Edmund asked quietly.

Peter was confused until he caught the tiniest look of embarrassment flit across his little brother's face as his eyes darted over to Cyrus and Aloysius. "Cyrus, Aloysius, thank you both for your help; however, I'll take care of my brother from here. Cyrus if you would please go report to my sisters that Edmund and I are taking care of some difficulties. You can leave the information at that. Aloysius, if you would go ensure the troops get some food and water, I'll let everyone know once we're ready to continue moving," Peter instructed confidently.

Both soldiers bowed and took their leave.

"Alright Ed, it's just me. Please show me where you're hurt," Peter pleaded.

Edmund's eyes were fixed on the ground in front of his feet as he slowly lifted his shirt. Peter barely controlled a gasp. His little brother's stomach and ribs were a sick purple and blue. His skin had been torn raw at the bottom of his ribs and it appeared as though a rock or something had cut a deep gash just above his right hip. But what really had Peter reeling was the old scars that stretched all across his brother's torso. Yes, Edmund had told Peter some of the pain he'd been forced to endure yet it hadn't been real to him until he saw the painful-looking scars.

"Oh, Ed, I-I'm so sorry," Peter whispered.

"Pete, I'm fine. It's fine," Edmund said confidently.

"Edmund, you have a significant gash here. And the bruising, oh Edmund, I'm sorry for not realizing," Peter said as he wet his handkerchief with water from his canteen much like Edmund had done for their baby sister.

"Peter, seriously don't apologize to me again or I'll hit you," Edmund threatened with a small grin taking away what little threat laced his words. "The cut will heal, they always do. The bruising will go down in time, it always does. I'll be a little bit sore, and a little bit tender for a while, but I'm alive, I'll still be alive when we get to Cair Parvel tonight. It honestly doesn't even hurt that badly, Pete. So for real, don't worry about me."

"Edmund, I know you'll heal. I'm glad you're okay. I'm sorry you didn't trust me enough to tell me you were hurting. But, seriously, Ed, why didn't you say something? I could've helped you. I could've made the journey more comfortable for you...or at least tried. Why-why did you let yourself suffer for so long?" Peter asked almost scared for the answer.

"Pete, let it be," Edmund said as Peter started bandaging the wound he'd just finished cleaning.

"No, Edmund, I can't. I need to know why you didn't say anything," Peter pleaded.

"Pete..."

"Edmund, please, trust me."

"Because I deserve to put up with a little bit of pain after everything I put everyone through, okay?!" Edmund admitted angrily.

Peter was shocked. He had absolutely no idea how to respond to his brother. He was stunned silently for several moments and finally came to his senses enough to find words. "Edmund, you do not deserve pain. You do not deserve to suffer. You sinned. You repented. You have been forgiven. You've been forgiven by Aslan, by me, by Susan, by Lucy, by the beavers, by Mr. Tumnus. When will you be able to forgive yourself?" Peter wondered aloud.

"Never, I'll never be able to forgive myself. I'm too disgusted with myself to ever hope to forgive myself," Edmund said self-hatred lacing each word.

"Edmund, you'll kill yourself if you keep going this way," Peter pleaded.

"So be it..." Edmund said with spite.