Peter didn't say anything right away, just held Edmund close and let him cry. In truth, if Peter had tried to speak in that moment, he probably would have begun to cry himself. He was biting his lower lip and blinking urgently, fighting to breathe steadily.

Edmund was fighting an array of emotions. For one thing, his backside and thighs were positively on fire. Beside that, he was feeling thoroughly chastised, very ashamed, a little frightened, rather relieved that the whole heated and horrible ordeal was over, and above all, very, very sad that he had caused Peter to be so upset with him. He sank in as close to his brother as he could, needing his steadiness, needing to know that he was forgiven and everything would be alright and could go back to the way it was.

"I'm sorry," Edmund choked into his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Pe-ter, I'm sorry..."

"Shhh, it's all forgiven," Peter murmured, "it's over." Edmund gave a shuddery little sigh of relief that was not lost on Peter, who moved a calming hand from Edmund's back to the back of his head. The two sat there for a long while, neither one of them daring to speak much.

Peter finally glanced down at his younger brother. He was staring off into space, his head tucked into the crook of Peter's neck. He was breathing steadily, but the occasional twin tears still tracked down his cheeks. Peter lifted his hand to Edmund's face and gently brushed away the tears with his thumb. He ran his fingers over Edmund's back. "Mate, d'you know I love you?" He spoke at last. Edmund nodded and sniffed. "Do you know that I would be completely satisfied if I never had to do this with you ever again?" Another nod.

Peter shifted him to sit up a bit so he could look at his face. "But do you know that--hey," he spoke tenderly, bending a bit to get closer to Edmund's face. The boy lifted his gaze to meet Peter's, cautiously. "Do you know that no matter how many times we do have to do this, I love you just the same? And that I'll never hold it against you or keep a tally or get sick of you?" Edmund ducked his head down again, squeezing his eyes shut as his face crumpled. "Do you know that?" Peter pushed. Finally, Edmund nodded a third time. "Good." Peter leaned forward to kiss his forehead and Edmund fell all the way forward, his face hidden in Peter's shoulder once more.

"You did well," Peter murmured, rocking him a bit, "really well, love. I know you were frightened but I'm proud of you for taking responsibility, Ed. It's all over now, shhh," he hushed him as his brother began to shake with tears once more, shifting him a little closer, "it's alright."

"It hurts," Edmund sobbed.

"I know it does; I know. Shhh, it's alright now," Peter ran his hand gently down the length of his brother's back, over and over, until at last, he was calm.

"I'm sorry for everything, Pete," Edmund finally spoke quietly, his breath still hitching here and there. "For being stupid and for making you disa-appointed in me. I'll do better." Peter ruffled his hair a bit, affectionately.

"I'm very, very glad to hear that."


Susan and Lucy reached the castle gates a little before sunset, each breathing a sigh of relief; their many parcels were growing heavy. Peter met them in the front entryway, greeting them both with a hug and a kiss and bundling their packages into his arms, insisting upon delivering them to the royal seamstresses himself.

"What have you got there?" He inquired curiously when he noticed the several daisies Lucy was clutching in her left hand. The girls' voices spilled over each other as they chattered excitedly, unweaving to Peter the tale of the little girl in the marketplace, the game, the flowers, her smile.

"She was completely and utterly the most adorable little thing you've ever seen in your life," Susan gushed. "I just wanted to squish her." Peter made a face.

"I'll never understand the inate desire in woman to immediately suffocate that which is pleasing to the eyes. Poor lass." He laughed. "I hope that you two were not overbearing or frightening."

"No, not at all," Lucy piped up. "She looked like she wanted to come back with us."

"Well, I'm certainly glad to hear that you made a new friend," Peter pinched Lucy's cheek affectionately. "Maybe you'll see her again."

"I hope so!" Lucy's eyes were sparkling, and then her eyes moved off of Peter to settle behind and above him. Peter turned on his heel to see Edmund at the top of the stairs, cautiously making his way down.

"Excuse me, girls. I'm away to deliver this fabric before the help finishes for the night." Peter nodded at his sisters before turning and striding down the hallway and out of sight.

Edmund reached Lucy and Susan and stood before them, biting his lip. His eyes studied Lucy's right sleeve intently; he found himself unable to look at either of them. Mercifully, Susan broke the silence.

"We went to town today, Edmund, Lucy and I. Next time, you'll have to come along; it was bustling. The carpenter was finishing a brand new set of dining chairs; I know how you always love to watch him work." Edmund forced a little smile at that but said nothing, still struggling to look at his sisters. Susan glanced at Lucy, unspoken concern etched on her face. Lucy took a step forward and grasped Edmund's hand gently.

"Peter came after you once we left, didn't he?" Upon noting her brother's rapidly reddening face in response, Lucy sighed a small sigh and continued. "Edmund, I forgive you," she assured him softly. His eyes widened a bit at that and he glanced up to look at her. "I...I know it can be hard to say you're sorry when you're feeling so sad. So...you don't have to say you're sorry. I know you are and I forgive you just the same and I still want to be friends."

"Th--" Edmund croaked and had to clear his throat. "Erm, thanks, Lu." Lucy smiled up at him affectionately before wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning into his chest. Edmund returned the hug, pressing his cheek into the top of Lucy's head.

Susan was helpless but not to note that the scene was familiar. She tried not to often think back to their times before the battle in the Lion's camp. The heaviness of it all felt too raw to her: Edmund's betrayal, Aslan's death, the Witch, the battle, the blood, watching the life drain from her little brother's face before her eyes...she shuddered in spite of herself. However, the tender scene in front of her was one of very few that she did not dread thinking back on: Lucy wholeheartedly embracing Edmund in his shame as she looked on. She found her vexation with her younger brother beginning to ebb away slowly. Surely, she admitted to herself, if it were I in Edmund's place, I would be yearning for mercy, too. The thought was enough to cause her to move forward steadily, until, before she knew it, she was gathering Edmund into her arms in turn. He turned his face to the crook of her neck as Lucy rested a hand upon his shoulder.

Susan considered whether or not to offer her forgiveness unprompted or wait for Edmund to ask for it. As she was opening her mouth to break the silence, though, she found herself beaten to it, for Edmund had lifted his head and whispered bashfully, "'m sorry, Susan." She gave a relieved little sigh, leaned back, placed both hands on either side of his face, and kissed his forehead.

"All is well, dear," she stroked his cheek with her thumb. "All forgiven."


The following morning, the eldest monarch rose and ventured down the winding stairway towards the dining room, sausages and fresh fruit already bright on his mind. As Peter rounded the corner and passed the kitchen, he stopped, puzzled. Backing up a few paces he glanced into the kitchen. What he saw caused him to furrow his brow in confusion all the more.

He saw not one of the cooks, nor any of the kitchen staff at all. There, standing at the counter, muttering to himself and counting on his fingers, was Edmund. His dark grey tunic was spotted with flour.

"What," Peter stepped through the entryway, causing Edmund to jump, "are you doing?" Edmund blushed and cleared his throat, appearing entirely unsure of how to explain himself.

"How many teaspoons are in a cup?" he asked at last.

"You didn't answer my question," Peter smirked. "You don't bake."

"I can learn!" Edmund retorted quickly, his face growing redder by the second.

"Anyway, why are you up so early? It's the weekend."

"I was hungry," Peter offered, amused. "By the look of it, so are you." He snatched up the black of chocolate sitting on the counter. "Edmund, I was serious. You're not allowed sweets."

"They're not for me," Edmund huffed. Peter raised an eyebrow and Edmund chewed on his lip before muttering, "they're for--" He stopped to swallow and pick at one of his fingers. "Uh, they're for Lucy."

"Ooohh, Ed!" Peter exclaimed, his face breaking out into a wide smile. "Why didn't you say so?" He leapt forward, flinging an arm around the younger boy, who groaned. "She'll be thrilled!"

"Yes, yes, would you keep it down? Cripes," Edmund hissed. Upon freeing himself from his brother's grasp, the younger snatched back the chocolate and regarded Peter irritatedly. "Are you here for any other reason than to make fun of me?"

"I'll get out of your way, little brother." Peter turned to leave. "48, by the way."

"What?"

"Teaspoons in a cup. 48."

"48?!"

"Good luck, Ed!" Peter chuckled as Edmund's groan followed him out of the kitchen.


To be continued!