A/N: Edited by the lovely realismandromance here comes chapter 7 ... Enjoy :)

XXX

The water in the pool was so cold that it temporarily took Edmund's breath away. And jumping from a twenty-yard-high mountain ledge into a pool this size was a bigger risk than he had let on to Peter. He made a mental note to make sure that Susan would never hear of this stunt, and he was quite sure that Peter would agree with him on that.

As he sank into the water, the impact of his fall was strong enough to push him all the way down, until he could feel the rocky ground beneath his feet. He used its solidity to push himself back up to the surface.

Peter had already scrambled out of the water and stood, dripping and shivering, on the side of the pool. He reached out his hand when Edmund swam towards him, and the younger took the offered help gratefully, letting the elder pull him out of the water.

A look up made it clear that Enzomian and his men were no longer standing on the edge, but they weren't climbing down either. Edmund could only assume that they were hurrying towards the gorge that was their safest way down. The Just King was glad that his assumption had proved correct and neither of the men thought himself skilled enough to climb down after the young kings.

But, even if it would take the men a while to get here, the kings knew that they had to move on. Edmund was about to head straight into the woods, but Peter grabbed him by the arm and pointed in the direction where the creek flowed on towards Farford. The clearing where they had been attacked lay only a couple of hundred yards away, and it was only then that Edmund remembered.

Rhindon!

Peter had dropped it there when they knew they were losing the fight. Neither of the foreigners had been able to pick up the High King's sword. It might still be there!

They jogged alongside the creek until they reached the clearing. As if to brighten the mood, the sky cleared up a little and few timid, yet pleasurably warming, rays of sunlight came through the treetops.

The place where they had fought several days before was still in almost the same state as they had left it. Bodies lay about, and there was the unpleasant smell of death all around. Edmund couldn't help thinking what a beautiful place it had once been. Now – at least for him – it would always be overcast with dark memories of the fight, Alroy's death and the stench of half-rotten corpses.

"There it is!" shouted Peter suddenly. He bent down and picked up his precious sword, beaming at the blade as he held it in front of him.

Edmund thought that, even dripping water and wearing that ragged oversized tunic Enzomian had given him, Peter had never looked more like the High King of Narnia than at that moment.

Well, he did need a shave, of course – or, at the very least, a trimming of the scruffy beard he had grown over the past few days. Edmund grinned and subconsciously ran a hand over his own chin. That, at least, was something he didn't have to bother about for another year or two.

"So, what now?" said Edmund. He let his eyes drift across the plain, looking for further weapons the foreign men had not taken.

He did indeed find a dwarf-sized bow, half hidden beneath its dead former owner. The arrows, however, he had to pick from the bodies they had killed. A few more could be found stuck into tree trunks. He gathered as many intact arrows as he could and went to wash the soiled ones in the lake's clear water.

"We need to get away from here," said Peter. "Unless you want to sit here in hiding and wait for the cavalry."

"That doesn't sound like much of a plan to me," said Edmund absently, while inspecting his new weapon. Tentatively, he brought the bow up and put an arrow on the string, but it felt more like a toy to him than an actual weapon – its size being too small in proportion to a human body. Anyway, it might suffice for shooting a rabbit or maybe even a deer.

The problem was, Edmund wasn't much of an archer. And neither was Peter.

With a sigh, the Just King sent the arrow through the air. It hit a tree trunk about two feet away from the spot he had aimed at.

"Nice," Peter commented, probably thinking that the tree had been the actual goal. Edmund made no effort to correct that assumption.

"Let's get back to where we made camp before the attack," Peter said. "It's only a couple of miles away from here. We might be able to reach it before nightfall."

It was indeed their best option, and Edmund agreed. With another arrow ready on the string, he made to follow his brother, who had again picked up a swift pace, Rhindon held out in his right hand. The blade shone brightly in the growing sunlight.

Along the way, Edmund missed several chances to shoot when rabbits crossed their way; they were usually gone before the king could even aim. Each time, he caught sight of Peter glaring at him. The High King could become very cranky when he was hungry, and even more so when he repeatedly had to watch his would-be meal hop away safely. But all Edmund could do was shrug and walk on as if nothing had happened.

Then, they heard voices that were very faint at first, but soon loud enough to recognise. The most prominent one belonged to Orieus, General of the Royal Narnian Army.

Sweet Aslan, we made it!

Peter sped up a little and Edmund, dropping the bow, followed suit.

Then there was a shriek. A female voice.

Lucy!

"Peter! Edmund! You're alive!"

"And whole and healthy!" said the general, trotting towards them, the Valiant Queen on his heels.

"Well, I'm honestly not so sure about the last bit, but at least we're alive," replied Peter, and he scooped Lucy up into his arms as soon as he reached her. The next moment, though, he had to put her down again.

Edmund noticed that his brother was shaking with exhaustion. Overwhelmed by the relief of finally being safe, the High King dropped to his knees. A moment later, he fainted, and Edmund himself didn't fare any better.

X

Peter woke to the nice feeling of being dry and warm for once, but also to a pounding headache and the sound of his youngest sister's stern voice bossing the soldiers around.

"Now, how's the meat coming? They'll be awake soon, and hungry, that's for sure." There was a pause, and then, "why, but that's still half raw! We can't give them half-raw meat, especially not Edmund. He'll bring it right back up … What do you mean, even when he's half starved? Especially when he's half starved. He has a tender stomach, and even more so when it's been deprived of food for a while."

Peter grinned, trying cautiously to sit up. On the cot across the tent, Edmund was still out of it – thank the Lion. If he'd heard Lucy's loudly spoken words, he would have been furious.

A minute later, the tent opening was pushed aside and Lucy came rushing in, shining hair curling about her sweet face.

"Oh, you're awake," she said with a warm smile, when she saw Peter looking at her. Beaming brightly, she strode towards him, and before he knew it, he was caught up in one of her bone-crushing hugs.

"Careful, Lu," he said gently, and grinned. "Your eldest brother is also half starved and weakened from hunger. You wouldn't want to suffocate him."

"Oh, you just heard me?" She laughed.

"Everybody in the camp heard you," Peter confirmed, with a snicker of his own. "Well, save for the lazy lump over there, of course." He indicated their sleeping brother with a roll of his eyes.

"Thank Aslan!" Lucy laughed even harder. "He wouldn't have wanted me to blurt that out to the whole army the way I did."

"I won't tell him," promised Peter, winking at his little sister. "You just make sure that none of the soldiers will, once he's woken up."

"Which I hope will be soon," said Lucy, turning worried eyes on Edmund. "You both just managed a few bites of bread last night after we brought you here. You were so exhausted. We ought to get some real food into you."

As if to emphasise his sister's words, Peter's stomach gave an embarrassingly loud growl, and he nodded eagerly. "I can hardly wait," he said, thinking of fresh bread and meat. "Not that I'm that huge a fan of field rations, but you wouldn't believe what we were forced to eat during those last couple of days."

Lucy smiled, her eyes full of sympathy. "I'll go get you some of the pastries we brought from Cair Paravel. And, when he's awake, we can have a proper breakfast – all of us together." She nodded at Edmund.

"Sounds perfect," said Peter. With a little difficulty, he got up from his cot and stretched, then began to dress in fresh, warm clothes. Clothes that were his own. He felt a little sore, but at least he was more rested than he had been at any point since their capture.

Edmund, however, slept on. He had been asleep for more than twelve hours now, and it was making Lucy a little nervous – Peter could tell by the jittery way she hovered by his bedside.

"Do you reckon he needs a drop of my cordial?" she asked Peter.

"He's not wounded, Lu, just exhausted ... well, beyond exhausted, probably." And Peter told her about their flight, including the night they had spent in the mountains, himself being the only one to get any sleep at all.

Lucy listened patiently, but the more he said, the tighter her mouth became. As rare as it might have been, the High King could tell that he was in for a solid scolding from his youngest sister, no less.

Sure enough, as soon as he had ended, Lucy drew her brows together and glared at him. She was about to open her mouth when a voice interrupted her before she could even start.

It was Orieus. "My Kings and Queen, would you kindly join us outside? We're holding a council and we need your input."

"Peter and I shall be with you in a minute," Lucy replied, frowning at Peter once more. "I would like to let Edmund sleep, though. See, his big brother just let him climb a hundred-yard cliff after over twenty-four hours without a proper rest."

Peter sighed. "I said I'm sorry."

"You'd better be." She swept out of the tent.

Head hung low, Peter followed her.

Outside, joyfully warm rays of sun and fresh, pleasant autumn air met him. He made himself comfortable by the fire and accepted with pleasure and gratitude the portions of food Lucy handed him, and soon asked for more.

It turned into a full breakfast rather than a mere snack. He couldn't help it.

As usual, his little sister was unable to be angry with him for long. While chewing on some bread herself, she watched him fondly as he downed his portions. Time and time again, she would reach out to pat his arm or caress his cheek with the back of her hand. She also made sure that he took a third helping after he had finished his second. Finally, he felt stuffed and had to decline the fourth helping she ordered for him.

They had not yet started holding council, because Peter wanted Edmund to be part of it. It took almost another hour before Narnia's Just King finally came to and quietly joined them by the fire.

Lucy let out a low gasp when she saw him; she made him sit and went at once to get more food from their supply storage, while Peter gave his brother a thorough look-over. With some unease, he noted that, despite the long time he had slept, Edmund looked far from rested. The past days had taken their toll on him; remembering all the physical exertion, paired with too little sleep at night (because of the cold), too little food (and his inability to keep down much of the little he had consumed) and the painful losses they had endured, it was no wonder.

Orieus didn't look very pleased at the sight of the younger king, either. But he didn't comment on it. He and the highest-ranking soldiers, including the cheetah Fizz, the faun Anjus and the centaur Castor, had gathered around the fire with their sovereigns.

Then, they all updated each other on what had happened.

Peter learned that, while he and Edmund had been held captive, Skygrace had flown back to Cair Paravel to inform Orieus, who had set out immediately with a party of reinforcements, taking with him Lucy and her cordial; against Susan's wishes, of course, but it couldn't be helped. There were quite a few gravely wounded soldiers who were in dire need of a drop of cordial.

Philip was one of them. Peter was glad to see that he looked perfectly well again now as he stood behind Edmund, munching carrots and gently nudging his human friend with his nose from time to time.

After Orieus had finished, it was time for Peter to tell their story. When he came to the part where he and Edmund had climbed down the cliff, the soldiers made awed expressions. While Lucy was doing her best to show how she disapproved of it, Edmund grinned. It was his first since he had woken up, and when his sister saw it, Peter noticed that she let go of her scowl and smiled as well.

After the High King had ended his tale, it was Orieus who spoke up first, taking charge as the next in command after the two still-not-fit kings. "If I may suggest, we should not lose too much time before we move into the mountains and get in contact with these people. If they see the strength of our army, they may let us negotiate those Narnians out of their imprisonment."

"No offence, General, but I don't think you'd manage to get there," said Edmund. "Neither would any other of the centaur soldiers, or the horses. The caves we passed were often too narrow; you wouldn't fit through."

"With all due respect, my King," replied the Centaur at once, "I am not going to let you go without me."

"So, we'll have to lure them down here, where we can fight them with the strength of all of Narnia's army," suggested Lucy.

"Well, they know they can't just let me and Ed go," Peter joined in. "Not now that we know where their settlement is and that they still have Narnians living there as slaves."

"True," agreed Edmund, with a curt nod. "But, if they have any brains at all, they must realise that it would be stupid to give up their advantage. They know their way around the mountains. We don't."

"Sire, if I may ..." It was Skygrace, the eagle. He had made himself comfortable by the fire, but as he spoke, he spread his wings demonstratively. "I could fly into the mountains and see from above. You can give me directions. I could help a great deal with assessing the situation."

"Not a bad plan at all, but you ought to be careful. They might know you for what you are if you stay too long and too close to them," said Edmund at once.

"Don't you worry, your Majesty," replied Skygrace. "I shall be swift and clever and go by unnoticed."

X

A couple of hours later, just before the evening meal was due, Skygrace returned, and Peter and Orieus decided together that they would hold another council before they ate. Looking for Edmund, Peter wondered where his little brother might have wandered off to. Neither Lucy nor Philip knew, either.

Peter was getting a little nervous. He hoped Edmund wasn't up to something stupid, but he didn't really believe so. They were both experienced warriors. Stupid actions had no place in battles; Edmund knew that as well as Peter did.

A hand laid gently on his arm interrupted his thoughts. "Have you found him yet?"

It was Lucy. Peter shook his head.

"He can't have gone too far," said Lucy. "He wouldn't be so silly as to wander off through the forest all by himself if we don't know how close these men really are, would he?"

Peter sighed. "No, he wouldn't."

"Have you looked in your tent?"

Drawing his brows together, Peter got up from the fallen tree he had been sitting on. "No," he said pensively. "No, not yet." He wondered why he hadn't thought of it. Maybe he had just assumed that Edmund wouldn't want to be sitting alone in the tent, but be amid the battle planning.

"Well, let's go then," said Lucy, pulling him along by his arm.

When they stood outside the kings' tent, Lucy called out loudly before they entered. "Ed? Are you in there?"

There was no answer, but Peter was suddenly sure that his brother was inside. He stuck his head through the opening and indeed found him sitting on the cot, his back turned to them.

"Ed? What are you doing?" He half-heartedly hoped that his brother was only lost in thought, but when the younger replied in a shaky, vicious voice, his hopes sank.

"Go away."

"What are you doing here?"

"I said, go away, Peter."

Peter took a step backwards, letting the opening fall shut. He exchanged a look with Lucy and shrugged helplessly. "He's mourning. I guess you already heard what happened to Alroy ... I think we'd better leave him for a bit. I'll go and tell Orieus that we'll eat first and hold council later."

Lucy stared at him, open-mouthed. "You what? No, no, no ..." She shook her head. "I'll go speak with Orieus."

"Lucy –"

"Peter, you can't be serious. He needs you. Go in there. Be there for him."

"In case you didn't hear it, he just threw me out. Why don't you go? He'll respond much better to your comforting than to mine."

Rolling her eyes, Lucy was adamant. "It's Edmund, Peter. You know what he's like; he lashes out when he's hurting. He always does. But, I assure you that it's his big brother he needs now, not me. Get in there. Now!" She turned on her heels and was off, calling, "Orieus! Orieus! Ah, there you are, General ..."

Peter sighed. Then, hesitantly, he stuck his head into the tent again. "I'm coming in now, whether you like it or not."

There was no reply.

Cautiously, Peter approached where Edmund sat, back still turned on him, legs pulled close and chin placed upon his knees. Peter's stomach suddenly tightened at the sight of his little brother; experienced warrior though he was, right now, he looked much more like the young boy Enzomian had seen in him.

The tension inside the tent was palpable. Peter tentatively drew nearer to the cot, awaiting another vicious outburst from Edmund at any moment. He cleared his throat. "I'm so sorry, Ed, for what happened."

The answer came in a surprisingly low and composed tone. "Not your fault."

"Neither yours."

Silence.

"Do stop blaming yourself," Peter said, moving closer to Edmund still, but only very slowly. He wasn't even sure if his brother was aware that he was moving. "I mean, cry if you need to. But please stop thinking you could or should have done anything differently."

Finally, Edmund turned his head to Peter – and the High King was relieved and devastated at the same time to see that it was tear-stained. His little brother had been crying silently all along. And that he was suddenly ready to let Peter see it was all the High King needed to know.

With two more long strides, he closed the distance between them and wrapped Edmund tightly into his arms, half fearing that his brother would change his mind and pull away.

Edmund didn't, but neither did he return the hug. Instead, he simply cried even harder, no longer caring to be quiet about it, but shaking with deep, rasping sobs.

It took a while until the sobs finally subsided, and when they did, Peter loosened his embrace and leaned back. "Feeling better?" he asked soothingly, both hands holding Edmund by the shoulders tenderly.

"A little." Edmund sniffed and wiped his nose on the back of his hand. "Sorry for that."

"Why? You have nothing to apologise for."

Another sniff, and then Edmund managed a very pale version of a smirk. "At least you got to cuddle me properly now ... been trying ever since we left the Cair."

Peter let out a snicker. "Don't say you've noticed. You weren't complaining about too much cuddling, though, when you were shaking with the cold at night, up there in the mountains."

"Didn't say I was." Edmund wiped the last traces of tears from his face with the hem of his undershirt, pulling it up in the process.

As his eyes fell on his brother's bared abdomen, Peter couldn't help letting out a sigh. "Edmund, could you do me a favour?"

Edmund smirked back at him and shrugged. "I might ... depends on what you want me to do."

"Please increase your food intake," said Peter. "Before we get home." Before Susan sees you.

This caused Edmund to laugh. "Not unless you do too."

Peter grinned. "I'm on it."

"You should be," said Edmund, still laughing, although his eyes were serious. Then he stood up to get himself in order. He slipped into a clean, warm leather doublet, and while he buttoned it, he told Peter, "Thanks for being there for me."

"Anytime, Ed." The High King smiled. "Anytime."

XXX

A/N: Oh dear ... looks like poor Edmund's kept all bottled up for too long ... good thing he has a big brother like Peter, eh? :)

Let me know what you think!