**TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE ATTEMPT IN THIS CHAPTER**

I don't own Narnia or the Pevensie siblings!

The next morning, Edmund woke with a dull ache in his chest that matched an ache on the right side of his head. Sitting up, he groaned and winced as his head pounded, the dull pain throbbing all the way down his neck and into his shoulder. Must've slept odd, he concluded grimly. He forced himself to his feet and tromped downstairs, hoping to find Lucy for a bit of relief from his headache, which was getting worse by the minute.

He reached the dining room and sank into a chair, holding his head in both hands. He squeezed his eyes shut, the light in the room overpowering his senses.

"Edmund?" Susan. She was by his side in an instant, a hand on his back. "What's the matter? Are you alright?"

"Bad headache," he managed. "I think I slept-"

"I'll fetch Lu," she cut him off, and then she vanished. Edmund sat up, trying to stretch his neck this way and that in an attempt at relieving some pressure.

Moments later, Lucy thudded down the stairs (as much as Lucy could thud; Susan could practically toss her in the air with little effort), still wearing her nightgown, her hair still wound in its loose plaits. She padded to Edmund's side urgently. "Susan said you've got an awful headache. I'm ever so sorry, Ed. Here, open up." Edmund squinted painfully as Lucy lifted a hand to his chin and tipped his head back, the bittersweet red liquid dripping into his open mouth. He swallowed, then slumped forward in relief as the pain ebbed away, leaving warmth in its place.

"Thank you, Lucy." She leaned down to kiss his forehead, and then gave a happy little gasp in surprise as Edmund reached up, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. She placed a hand on the back of his head, resting her chin on top.

It was this affectionate scene that Peter found himself walking into as he strode into the dining room, breakfast the foremost thing on his mind. He stopped short, leaning against the doorway. He didn't want to interrupt. Edmund didn't really hug any of them; he knew how much it meant when he did, especially to the girls.

But when he heard his brother say, in a rather small voice, "sometimes, Lucy, I feel as though you are the only person in this whole blasted world who understands a thing," he felt his throat tighten. Lucy settled herself onto Edmund's lap, completely unaware of her surroundings.

"Why?" Lucy asked softly. "Because I have them too?" He nodded, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"You were never angry with me for any of it, eh?"

"The nightmares?"

"The..." Peter heard his brother stop.

"No." Lucy spoke, her voice a little lower and firmer. "No, never. That was ages ago, dear. Aslan said-"

"I know what Aslan said, I just...Lucy, will they ever go away?" He was staring at the table. Lucy's eyes bore into the top of his head thoughtfully.

"I don't know, Edmund. I still have awful terrors about Aslan dying, even about England before we left." England. The word felt so strange on her tongue.

"That's different for you, though. You just watched those things happen. I...I did them. I did things that probably give other people nightmares."

"Edmund," Lucy took his cheeks in the thumb and forefinger of her hand, firmly, mimicking the way Peter did the same thing when he was firmly chastising one of them. "Don't think on such things. You're letting her have power over you that doesn't belong to her, that never belonged to her. She's gone. It's over. It's far behind you." She released his jaw and lightly touched the side of his rapidly reddening face with one hand. "If you dwell on such horrible things and take on that guilt all over again, then...then I daresay you're even taking away from the wonder of Aslan's sacrifice a bit, too. I'm sorry to say it," she added quickly, noting his eyes rapidly filling with tears. "But if he died for our freedom, for your freedom, Edmund...then...isn't the best we can do to let Him have His victory and forgive our enemies as He has forgiven us? Oh," she murmured softly as he bowed his head. "Oh, Edmund. You just...you battle and battle and it's always you against you against you...aren't you tired? Edmund...when He told us to love our enemies and forgive the ones who do wrong against us...I think He probably meant ourselves too."

And then Peter was swallowing hard, his eyes wide with amazement and wet with emotion as Lucy pulled Edmund closer and his face fell into her shoulder. "Don't. Don't think on it," she spoke softly. "You won't find one bit of relief. You've got to let it be. You're so completely forgiven, and you're so loved, Edmund." Her voice rose higher with tears. "You're so, so loved."

It was only then, watching Lucy's resolve slip from her grasp, that Peter allowed his presence to be known. Silently, he slipped out from behind the doorway and closed the distance between himself and his younger siblings. He dropped to his knees in front of them on the dining room floor, rising up so he was at their height, and wordlessly wrapped them tightly in his arms.

The day was uneventful, very quiet and sober. Susan was unable to concentrate on her papers, finally abandoning them to take an unaccompanied walk through the fields behind the castle. Peter fumbled in combat training, causing Lucy to need to rush to his aid to repair a rather nasty slice to his upper arm. Lucy, when she was supposed to be tidying her room, was found by Peter on her balcony staring off towards the mountains, lost in thought (Lucy was rarely still or silent). Edmund kept to himself, stealing off to the far side of the stables and absentmindedly whittling away at scraps of wood here and there. None of the siblings showed for tea.

In the evening, though, unarranged, they all found themselves in Peter's large study. Lucy has stolen in while Peter was signing a few documents (mostly so he could tell himself that he had, actually, been productive that day) and crawled into his lap. Edmund had poked his head in moments later.

"Pete, Lara asked me to tell you that supper's nearly ready if you're interested. She's a bit concerned since we didn't eat any lunch." Peter glanced down at an unmoving Lucy.

"Would you like to ask a couple of servants to perhaps make plates for us and bring them in here, Ed? I rather think I'm quite pinned down by this one." Lucy gave a soft little snicker. Edmund nodded and turned to leave. "You hungry, my love?" Peter shifted Lucy a little. She yawned.

"Only a bit. Can I stay in here with you?"

"As long as you like." And Lucy settled herself back against his chest.

"Peter?"

"Lu?"

"Edmund's not always going to be so sad, is he?"

"No, Lucy." Peter ruffled her hair. "No, he just needs a bit of time. You were very, very kind to him this morning. I'm sure that helped him immensely."

"I wanted to help," she adjusted her head against his shoulder.

Moments later, it was Susan who arrived, two plates in hand. "Edmund said we're eating in here tonight," she smiled. "Nice to have a change of scenery." She held out the plates until Peter sat forward (forcing Lucy up, much to her indignation) and took them from her. Then she pulled the little circular wooden table against the wall over to the center of the room before fetching four matching wooden chairs out of the closet adjacent to Peter's desk. She arranged the chairs, then turned to Peter and Lucy, beckoning them over. "Come on. Sit," she said gently, "eat. I'm going to fetch a plate and find Edmund." And she left Peter and Lucy, arriving back a few minutes later with a plate in her hands and Edmund at her side.

The two joined their siblings at the table, Susan just behind Edmund as she stopped to light a candle. When they were all settled, each of them sort of glanced at the others awkwardly. It was Peter who broke the silence.

"For this family," he began, bowing his head. The others did the same. "For this land we love. For our friends and for this provision in a world where there are many going without, we give You thanks, our King."

"We give You thanks," his siblings echoed. They each took a sip of water, then began to eat.

"Can we go for a walk?" Lucy asked around her mouthful of bread.

"When, tonight?" Susan inquired. Little sister nodded. "No. It'll be too late and it's getting darker earlier now."

"I think it's a good idea," Peter countered, "let's. We've spent barely any time together at all today. That would be a nice way to end the evening. Eh Su?" Susan frowned. "Edmund?" He shrugged. "Let's," he repeated. "Let's go down to the beach. Just for a little while." His siblings finally nodded half-heartedly, except Lucy, who was bouncing for joy in her seat.

Peter glanced at Edmund halfway through the meal and noted with concern that he was merely moving his food around on his plate and his face had grown rather pale. Not wanting to draw attention to either of them st the table, he made a solid mental note to keep a close eye on Edmund that night.

About an hour later, Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy filed down to the beach. Lucy and Peter were not wearing shoes, though Susan would not dream of not wearing shoes, especially at night when one could not properly see where they were stepping. Edmund carried his shoes in hand.

Lucy was holding Peter's hand. They walked in front; the others were moving too slowly. Susan stayed at Edmund's side. She felt as though she had done a rubbish job at supporting him through all of this. Truth be told, Susan was rather at a loss as to how to be of proper use at all. She was not big and strong like Peter and she didn't have Lucy's natural emotional intuition. So she walked next to Edmund silently, hoping her presence would be of some comfort to him, however small.

Once they reached the beach, Edmund sat down in the sand, his arms wrapped around his knees. Peter walked with Lucy down the coast, the two of them conversing in unintelligible tones. Susan went to the water's edge, only then tugging off her shoes so that she could wade.

Edmund looked up at the sky. The perfectly round cream-coloured moon and glassy stars seemed to poke holes in the blanket of black and blue sky. He sighed deeply. His thoughts seemed to jumble, ebbing and flowing with the crashing of the tide against the shore. He was so tired. How had he found himself here? Three years and he felt as though he was no better off than if they had stayed in England. Only the most rotten of people did the things he had done. He sucked in a breath. At least his brother and sisters loved him. He knew that much for certain. But bloody hell, they sure knew how to make a chap feel like garbage. Their love up against his own self-loathing felt like a punch in the gut every time they showed him, told him, hugged him, spent time with him. I don't deserve it, he thought sadly. I don't deserve any of this.

I ought, he thought at last, to just walk into that water and just disappear. That's the best I could do at this point. Just disappear and leave my family to their peace and Narnia to be governed by people who haven't been known to sell out their siblings and subjects for sweets. He sighed again, miserably. Then he stood up and began to walk towards the water.

Lucy was by his side in an instant. "Fancy a swim, Ed?" she asked excitedly. He shook his head numbly; didn't look at her, kept walking towards the water. "You alright?"

No answer. Keep walking.

"Ed?" Keep walking. He felt her tugging on his arm.

Shake her off. Keep walking.

"Edmund?" Peter. "What are you doing?"

Drown him out. Keep walking.

He reached the water and never broke stride, moving in up to his waist. "Edmund!" Keep walking. He sank into the water up to his neck and found it difficult to walk any longer. He let his legs give out and sank.

Do it now. Breathe in. Drown it all out.

Leave it all.

Do them all good.

Do it now.

Breathe in.

Do it now.

Edmund opened his mouth.

Now.

He began to fill his lungs with water.

And then he was being roughly lifted to the water's surface and dragged to the shore by strong arms. For the second time in 24 hours, Peter slapped the water from his lungs.

"WHAT WERE YOU DOING?!" Peter was screaming, shaking him hard. "YOU IDIOT, WHAT WERE YOU DOING?!"

"Peter, Peter," Susan was sobbing, her hands on his shoulders, trying to calm him. "Peter, stop."

"EDMUND!" Peter yelled in his face, his breath hot on Edmund's cheeks. "WHAT WERE YOU DOING?!"

"Peter-"

"You idiot," he gasped, his grip on Edmund's arms all but cutting off the circulation. "Edmund, what the hell-"

"Peter, where is Lucy?!" Peter froze. He turned his head left, and then right.

"Lucy?" He called, his voice hoarse. "Lucy?!"

"I'm over here," they heard her little voice from far behind them down the beach. Susan scrambled up, jogging a couple strides towards the water so she could see clearly down the beach.

She gave a gasp and a strangled cry at what she saw.

And in a moment, Peter did the same. Then, he began to weep.

Standing next to Lucy on the dark beach, light illuminating His entire being, was the Lion.

To be continued.