I would like to thank electrum for wearing her super beta cape once again to save the day. Thank you a thousand times over.

All mistakes are my own.

This story takes place between LWW and PC, book and movie verse.

NO SLASH WHAT SO EVER only family tenderness

Disclaimer: I was poor yesterday, I am today and probably will be tomorrow. So please don't sue because the works of C.S. Lewis belongs to him and any affiliate that makes that claim.

I saw this disclaimer on someones story and thought it a good idea to put on my own: I've read so much that I hope I didn't steal something from someone's story. If I did please accept my apology.

Chapter Six: Trapped

"Peter, Peter wake up, something's wrong with Edmund!" shouted Charles as he came charging into Peter's room. "Peter, Edmund's screaming and he won't wake..." The boy found himself pushed out of the way before he could finish his sentence.

Peter's feet practically flew with his racing heart as the echo of Edmund's screams spurred him on, bringing back black memories of times of war in Narnia. When he arrived, there was a wall of boys in the hall in front of Edmund's door. "Get out of the way the whole bloody lot of you!" Peter threatened as he pushed and pulled onlookers, shocking everyone with his unbelievable strength. Within a few seconds he gained entrance and found a dorm parent unceremoniously shaking Edmund, demanding him to wake up. The man found himself crashing into Edmund's nightstand as he was suddenly pushed aside by a distressed brother. Peter, breathing heavily, held his brother's flailing thin arms in one hand and embraced him with the other.

With his body flushed with his brother's, he gently said, "It's alright, Eddy, I'm here. It's alright, shhh. Wake up now, Edmund, you're safe. Just open you eyes and see how safe I have you." His voice was gentle and yet authoritative. He used the bass resonating through his chest as a tool to help break through the struggling and pathetic moaning that consumed Edmund. With one hand behind his brother's sweaty wet head and one rubbing his back, Peter placed him in his reserved spot where Edmund has found comfort since childhood; the crook of Peter's neck. The front of his shirt was drenched in Edmund's sweat as he slowly rocked him while whispering words of comfort. "Shhh, I love you Eddy, come on I'm waiting for you." When he felt he'd reached Edmund beyond the torturing realm of his nightmare, he squeezed him tighter. Edmund's eyes popped open with a gasp, he was trembling as if he was personally pulled from Jadis' icy hands. "It was only a nightmare, Eddy you're safe."

Edmund felt a soothing kiss to his head while tightly embraced by his brother. With relief his own shoulders shook, accompanied by the flow of mournful tears .

After picking himself up, the attending dorm parent shooed the intruding crowd away, back to their own beds, now that it was evident Edmund was in better hands. Subsequently watching the Pevensie brothers throughout the year, he, a grown man, knew for some reason not to interfere in this situation. Not that he is afraid of Peter Pevensie . . . much, but the one who could calm him was incapacitated at the moment in his arms. There was something strange about those two and their relationship. They reminded him of a powerful force held in check. It showed in their actions and in their eyes.

They seem full of aged wisdom beyond their years and he wondered if the war had anything to do with it. Despite the attitude of the eldest lately, you can see the unspoken, fierce love they had for one another, the foundation of that force.

He'd rarely seen them talk to each other, but when they did, which sometimes was in disagreement, the eldest seemed to unconsciously groom the youngest; fixed his collar, straightened his tie or brushed the hair out of his eyes. And you knew the youngest was used to it because he kept talking as if unawares. Then they'd depart, without so much as a good-bye.

After catching Peter's eye, he bid him goodnight with a nod of his head and quietly closed the door.

NnNnNnN

"It was so real," I sobbed, clutching Peter to anchor myself in this world and away from the horrors.

"Shhh, Eddy."

"I begged her to stop, but she just smiled at me as she slit Lucy's throat. She . . . she made me watch her die. I could hear her gurgling . . . cry . . . " Even Peter started to tremble a little with such an image. "She then turned," I cried a loud silent cry as Peter tried to get me to speak no more. "She turned Susan . . . Susan to stone then took a sledgehammer to her." Peter's grip on me tightened, wishing he could rid me of the memory of Jadis forever. He's said so after delivering me from many nightmarish prisons.

I couldn't stop shaking. Even my teeth were rattling.

"She…she…she turned only parts of us to stone, bit by bit and forced us to watch each other as she would chip away at our bodies." My shoulders shook with uncontrollable sobs as Peter crushed me closer to his chest. I knew my brother and he wanted to absorb me into himself, to keep me safe from everything evil, even dreams. He did the only thing he could do, and that was to reassure me that he and the girls were safe from the reaches of Narnia's White Witch. Sometimes, after having horrible dreams of her, it's hard to believe she's really dead.

"Shhh, I'm here, the girls are safe and you're safe too, Eddy. Aslan defeated her, remember. Shhhhh" he said, looking into my tortured brown eyes. I knew they looked tortured because my soul was in agony.

"Must we endure these nightmares until our deaths? May Aslan deliver us from this wretchedness and from an event that happened over fifteen years ago," Peter whispered.

Peter started to let go and leaned as if to get up. "Please, don't leave me Peter, not now."

Later I was ashamed at how my panicked cry pierce his heart as I hugged him tighter around his neck. I was ashamed because I allowed my terror to control me. What kind of king or knight am I that I would fear my big brother leaving me? As if I was a five year old child! I've stood boldly against many adversaries and struck them hard within a heartbeat. I've fought unyieldingly with the High King of Narnia, annihilating our enemies. I shouldn't be so weak in the lingering effect of just a nightmare. But . . . what a nightmare.

"Shhh. I will not leave you, you know that," he whispered in my ear followed by another warm and cherished kiss. As I held onto Peter, I could see his hand trembling as he reached for the quilt our mother made for me. The account of my dream deeply disturbed him. I tried, oh how I tried to stop trembling myself, but the images of my siblings' death still gripped my heart and wouldn't let go. Peter flipped my damp pillow over and pulled the quilt over us as he laid us both down. His presence is a comfort as he holds me close, chasing away my fears and defying anyone, even the memory of the White Witch, to interfere.

NnNnNnN

(Charles POV)

I watched again in awe and jealousy as Edmund's older brother did what my brother would never do. No, Edmund is no baby, and neither am I, but what would I give to have a brother who loved me as much and not be ashamed to show it. Only a true brother would comfort after a horrific nightmare such as Edmund had tonight. Sure, I know there is something bothering Peter, because he mostly kept to himself and ignored Edmund most times . . . well . . . unless something happened to Edmund of course. I've learned that Hell has no fury like Peter Pevensie when it comes to his brother. It's an amazing thing to see.

NnNnNnN

Charles lay watching Edmund by the pale light of the moon, listening as his roommate's breathing grew long and deep while loving fingers stroked his dark hair.

It's not fair! Charles' last thoughts followed him into his own dreams full of his own uncaring brother.

NnNnNnN

As the sun bid us good morning, Peter stood in the doorway ruffling my hair with a smile. A one last assessment of my well being. Returning his smile I confirmed that I am well and he needn't worry. After waving good-bye to Charles, Peter gave my hair another tousle before leaving for his own room. I watched the retreating back of my brother-whose love can be quite smothering at times, but I wouldn't trade him for anything in the world. My smile faded with a sobering thought. I did trade him for Turkish Delight, the boy king who would fight and die for me. Peter must have known I was watching him, because he turned and gave me a wink, unconsciously reminding me what's past is past . . . and forgiven.

I know Charles is envious of our relationship. I can see the secret longing in his eyes to have a brother like mine. Folding the quilt I ask myself, would he be willing to switch lives with me and everything I went through, with his own life to achieve what I have with my siblings? Would he rather have lived as a traitor, not only to his own but to a whole country, to Aslan? Would he find it impossible to experience what would seem a lifetime in a bone chilling ice castle, begging for mercy at the sick and evil hands of Jadis? Could he bear watching his siblings tortured in his dreams year after year? Could Charles kill and then ride home for miles on a horse, the blood and entrails of his enemies dried on his skin and armor? Or to have his hands stained with the blood of a dying friend that he'd be forced to bury on foreign soil? Would he want to love a land and its inhabitants which he would fight and give his life for only to be exiled from it, his true Home? To live in a land that is cold and void by comparison? Would Charles want to see the prime of his life, only to go back and experience childhood again? Would he like to be a leading candidate to see a psychologist?

If he only knew the high price we've all paid to be this close. A price we've paid with our very blood, our very souls.

tbc