Chapter 6

Thank you again to everyone who reviewed! I'm so happy that you liked the previous chapter because it was very important to me. This is the last chapter for this story. I hope you haven't forgotten that it was all a memory for Edmund, so I couldn't really get into what is going on with Peter. I'm thinking about writing a spin off because so many of you said they wanted to know more about what is going to happen with Peter now and how the girls will react.

For the moment, we are coming full circle and are back in the present, which is about half a year after PC.

Oh, and perhaps a warning is in order: Beware of the brotherly fluff!


The memories dissolve, and I'm back in my room, still looking at myself in the mirror. Every time I think of that day I'm in awe all over again. I have to admit that I still don't understand completely what happened in that park, and I rather think that I never will, but I do know that Aslan saved me once more, pulling me back from a dangerous precipice just in the nick of time. I don't even want to imagine what would have happened, what I would have done had he not appeared to me there. I remember what I thought and felt before He spoke to me very clearly, and I believe it is very likely that I would not have returned home that day – or ever. The idea alone is so horrifying that I'd rather not think about it at all, but considering the state I was in after Peter had disappeared…

As it was, I did manage to go home and to face Peter without wanting to bash his head in, though it was extremely hard and nothing in the circumstances changed at first. The next few days in fact were more than awkward. Peter was avoiding me like the plague, left the room as soon as I entered it and wouldn't look me in the eye, wouldn't even glance at me. It was so difficult to bear, and if Aslan's words hadn't accompanied me at all times, I surely would have assumed that he well and truly hated me. But just as Aslan had promised, something inside me had shifted slightly, and I could somehow recognise what was behind many of the things Peter did, as if they had become transparent. On the rare occasions that we were in the same room for more than a minute, I believed to detect a pain that he was burying deep inside, and I could see the guilt that he could not express swirling through his eyes.

It was so difficult witnessing Peter almost being torn apart, and despite everything I still so much wanted to help him. Standing aside because I knew I could not force my support on him was probably one of the most challenging things I've ever done. It still took me many sleepless nights and angry tears until the conviction that Peter's state of mind was ultimately not my responsibility reached my heart, but in hindsight I can say that this time was important for me because I learned so much more about what it meant to trust Aslan.

And I learned patience because it took almost three more months of having to watch him almost destroy himself until my Peter came back completely. Yet it was all worth it in the end. Since our first conversation we have talked about this day at length which has only brought us closer together. Aslan was right, our relationship did change, but only for the best. And although I know that I will carry the memories of what happened with me my whole life, they don't hurt me anymore. I'm certain that the pain I felt has left its mark on me, the remnants of it in my eyes are a testament to that, but I also know that it doesn't hold any power over me.

The fact that Aslan did all this for me is still as amazing as it was that first day. It was His grace alone that saved me, and I could do nothing but accept it and thank Him for it. I wouldn't have been able to pull out myself. I have to smile slightly, and it might be my imagination, but I think my eyes are softening a bit.

Then a laughing Peter bursts into my room, effectively ending my reflections, and I turn away from the mirror to face him.

"Ed! What are you doing up here? We are having such a blast with the cookies! Lucy wanted to do lion-shaped ones, but we did not have enough dough anymore, so we started a new batch. And then Lu tripped over a chair and spread flour all over the kitchen! You have to see it! It looks as if it has snowed inside! And you have to try the cookies we've already finished!"

I put a hand in front of my mouth, trying to rein in the very undignified giggles wanting to emerge. He looks so hilarious with this red-and-blue-striped apron, flour streaked in his hair and a smudge of what I suspect is chocolate on his cheek! Instead I put on a mock scowl.

"Aha! I see where this is going. You're trying to lure your hapless younger brother downstairs with promises of floury snow and delicious cookies, only to con him into cleaning up your mess. Just admit it, I've seen right through you!"

I'm shaking my finger at him threateningly, and he stops laughing, looking at me in confusion for a moment. I mentally congratulate myself on my convincing act, I still manage to throw him on occasion. But then I blow my serious façade by starting to chuckle myself, so I cross over to him and begin to brush at his hair. He swats at my hands, taking hold of one of my arms and tugging on it.

"Oh stop it, Edmund! You know you cannot resist any cookies! And if you decided to help your poor ailing siblings while you are in the kitchen anyway, we would of course be eternally grateful. Lucy even wants to make some special cookies just for you, though I am not sure you will appreciate the deer she is set on…"

His words are accompanied by a teasing grin, and I can't help groaning and rolling my eyes slightly.

"Don't tell me she's still on about that! When will she stop?"

I know that I'm very nearly whining, but I don't care. Peter of course is not very helpful and just laughs again.

"Come on, Ed, you have to admit it was very funny."

The question my dear brother is so conveniently forgetting is for whom the whole ordeal was funny! Because it certainly was not for me! Just remembering that doe, charging at me headfirst… And my loving siblings laughing their heads of certainly didn't help matters, a fact of which I still like to remind them.

"I'm not admitting anything, but I will gladly come downstairs with you to watch your cleaning efforts. And to prevent Lucy from mutilating the poor cookies."

I move away from him and start towards the door, but a hand on my shoulder halts me before I've taken more than a few steps. I look at him and am surprised to see that his laughter has stopped suddenly.

"Wait. You didn't answer my question. What were you doing up here? You looked quite far away when I came in."

Oh, isn't that just great! Trust Peter to notice every last little thing about me, even when his mind is on cookies! I sigh quietly because I really don't know what to tell him, and I'm not sure I want to go where my mind was only minutes ago. He is in such a good mood, and I love to see him carefree like this, so I don't want to ruin it. And that's what will happen when I tell him now. I can't help the coil of unease that is snaking into the pit of my stomach. He will turn all serious, he will want to know exactly how I am, and worst of all, he will most likely feel guilty again. Peter truly is too noble for his own good, always taking everyone's feelings on himself and seeing most things as his fault, and I hate it when that look of shame mixed with the most tender affection enters his eyes.

But I've been silent for too long, and I know it's over for me now. Peter is steering me towards the bed, pushing me to sit on it, and then crouches down in front of me to look into my eyes.

"Ed? Are you alright?"

The worry is written plainly on his face, telling me that he will not let go until he knows precisely what is going on, now that he thinks there's something bothering me. But I will still try to deflect him because I really, really don't want to dredge up all these memories for him. It's simply not necessary because my recollections weren't even disturbing me! So I shrug, putting on my best unconcerned face, and hope that it will work.

"Sure, everything's fine. I was just caught up in some memories, so I might've looked a bit preoccupied. There's nothing to worry about, so you can stop looking at me like that. Let's go!"

I try to get up, but Peter has put his hands on my knees now, effectively keeping me in place. I should've known that it was a vain hope.

"What kind of memories? And please let me decide if there is anything to worry about. You did not look very happy!"

I turn my head away, looking out of the window at the still falling snow, and I can feel him tensing slightly. Then he takes one of my hands in both of his and tugs a bit, and I know that I have to answer. But not without another try!

"Doesn't matter! It's not important, Peter. And I am happy! I was just thoughtful, not downcast! Anyway, it's long over and in the past. Come on now, I bet Lucy's waiting already!"

I'm spectacularly unsuccessful however because Peter only snorts softly, then one of his hands is on my cheek and he is turning my head back towards him.

"It has to be important if you so adamantly do not want to talk about it. And from that look I am guessing it has something to do with me. I don't know what you are trying to do, but you should make this easier for both of us and just tell me."

I sigh quietly, and he knows that he has won. He really is too persistent for his own good and never learned to let sleeping dogs lie. I only hope this doesn't blow up in both our faces. He has gotten up from the floor now and is settling down beside me on the bed, regarding me expectantly. I can't help sighing again.

"Well alright, if you absolutely have to know, I was remembering that day in the park, when we had the big fight. But…"

Before I can continue he is jumping up again, turning his back to me and clenching his fists. But I've seen that he has paled dramatically in the space of a few seconds, and the suddenly rigid set of his shoulders tells me that he's desperately trying to keep some emotions in. I knew this would happen, yet I'm not prepared to let him get away with it. So I grab his arm and pull him back down to my side, holding on to him until he stops attempting to escape and instead clasps his hands tightly in his lap. His whole stance is screaming remorse and guilt, and I want nothing more than to hug him, but I know he wouldn't accept it just now. I have to make him understand…

"See! That's exactly why I didn't want to tell you! I knew you'd react like that, feeling all guilty and probably persuading yourself that you're the worst person in the world! But you can stop it right there, you hear me? It's in the past, and I wasn't thinking about it because I'm hurt or in pain or angry or whatever else you've worked out in your head! It was just some general reminiscing, and like I said, I'm perfectly fine!"

Peter glances at me quickly, my words obviously not really registering with him because there's complete disbelief and overwhelming sorrow in his eyes. He shakes his head and returns his gaze to his hands, and I would really like to knock some sense into him. It's so frustrating that he always puts these burdens on himself.

"How can I stop when I… when I… How can you expect me to stop feeling guilty? Ed, I… I still can't believe that I said these horrible things to you! It's… I am… I can't simply stop thinking about it! How can you say it is in the past?"

Seeing him like this hurts more than remembering the day itself, and I just wish he would stop beating himself up so much. I take his face between my hands and force him to look at me, trying to convey my sincerity through my eyes.

"Pete, we've talked about this day over and over. You know I've forgiven you. So why is this still haunting you so much?"

He cups my hands with his own, regarding me with heartbreaking tenderness, then turns his head slightly to press a kiss to my palm. My breath catches in my throat.

"Because I hurt the person I love most in the world in the worst possible manner. Because I am horrified that there is this stranger inside me that is capable of saying these things, of being that cruel. And because I still do not understand how you could forgive me when I asked!"

I can't help the breathy sob that's escaping me and throw my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. I can sense he's surprised at first, but then his own arms come up, and he's clutching me to himself as if he never wants to let me go. He's shivering slightly, and for the first time I truly realise how much this incident is still troubling him. I probably should have noticed sooner, Peter has always been exceptionally bad at coming to terms with what he perceives as his failings.

I sit back again, but he retains a hold of my hand, and the guilt is still clearly visible in his eyes. Perhaps the time has come to tell him the part of the story he is not yet aware of. We've spoken at length about what he was feeling in the months after leaving Narnia, what was going through his head that day, particularly after he left the park. We talked through my feelings, a conversation that cost both of us a lot of strength and tears. But there is one thing I didn't disclose in all of our confessions. I don't know why, it just never felt right. Now it does.

"What you don't know, Pete, is that I forgave you long before you asked."

Peter's grip on my hand gets stronger, and he blinks at me in obvious confusion. I have to smile at that, his flustered look is always an amusing sight to behold.

"What do you mean?"

I motion for him, and he scoots over obligingly, putting his head on my shoulder as soon as I wrap my arm around him. I drop a kiss to his hair, hoping he'll be open to what I have to say.

"I mean just that. I forgave you on that day, in the park."

He jerks in my embrace as if I have dealt him a blow he doesn't know how to handle at all.

"What? But I had just… I had said… And you told me how hurt you were! How could you…"

His voice has risen, and I cringe a bit. I should've known he would react like this, Peter has trouble accepting forgiveness at the best of times, but now that I've gotten this far, I won't stop.

"Aslan spoke to me."

Just saying the words causes a warm feeling to wash over me, and I am suddenly filled with a calm that lets me know everything will be alright. Perhaps things had to settle down a bit before I could tell Peter about this. The encounter with Aslan is so intensely personal to me, it changed me in such a profound way, and I'm not sure I could bear it if Peter didn't understand me. Said big brother meanwhile has pushed himself away from me, staring at me with wide eyes.

"You met Aslan? Here? Why did you never tell me?"

It's a valid question, but not one I've prepared myself to answer because there's more to it than simply thinking the time is not right. I've promised myself however that I will be completely honest with him, so I'll have to try and put my thoughts into words.

"I didn't see him, so I don't know if you can call it 'meeting' Him, but He did speak to me. I'm sorry I never told you. We were… we were talking about that day so much, and somehow… It felt wrong to tell you at the time! You always said how much you had missed Aslan, how despondent you had been, so I didn't want to bring it up that I kind of encountered Him. And…"

I break off because Peter has gotten up from the bed and has started pacing, shaking his head as if he's debating something with himself. I only hope I haven't said anything to hurt him. But then his hand lands on my hair, and he starts caressing it softly. The tension I hadn't even realised building in me evaporates.

"Hey, no need to be sorry. I am sorry that you didn't feel you could tell me. But you don't have to protect me all the time. I could have coped."

I close my eyes and sigh, leaning my head against his stomach. He is the only person who invariably manages to put me on an emotional roller coaster from love to exasperation to sadness to amusement in the space of a few minutes.

"Pete, please! I don't want you to feel guilty about yet another thing! I just want you to know what happened that day, so that you can stop with the guilt trip!"

He laughs quietly and squeezes me a bit.

"Well, start talking then. What did he say?"

I look up at him, noting the honest curiosity on his face, and try to find the right words to say this as plainly as possible.

"He said that I have to forgive you, that it's the only way to my healing, and that I don't have a right to judge you. So I did. Forgive you, that is. I won't lie and tell you it was easy, but it helped. And Aslan helped me, too, even afterwards. Whenever I was feeling down, I could think about what He promised me, that He would be with me always, and then it really got easier over time. Anyway, it was worth it to get you back. I don't think we'd be where we are now if Aslan hadn't spoken to me."

It feels good to finally say all of this out loud, but Peter is simply silent now, and I'm not sure what to think. I only want him to find healing for himself, but his silence is making me feel a bit uncomfortable.

"Peter? Say something. Please?"

Instead of answering a brilliant smile slowly spreads over his face, and then he leans down to clasp me to him tightly, causing both of us to topple onto the bed in a tangled heap. We both start laughing and can't seem to stop for a few minutes. I have no idea why, nothing particularly funny has happened, but it certainly helps to lighten the somewhat charged atmosphere. Peter is resting his head on my chest now, still chuckling from time to time.

"Do you even know how amazing you are, Ed?"

It's a good thing he's not looking at me at the moment, as I have turned what is surely a nice shade of red. He really should not say things like that to me, especially when I don't know what he's talking about at all, so I decide not to reply. But that doesn't matter, he once again displays his talent of reading my thoughts.

"You can stop blushing, Ed, it is the truth. Only you would say something like this as if it was the most normal thing in the world. I have to say I'm really glad that Aslan was there for you when I… when I could not. But… I still do not get how you could do it. I would not have forgiven me… I have not…"

The last is only a whisper because he has buried his face in my shirt, but to me it sounds as loud as if he had shouted it. Is this the source of his still present guilt? If it is, I'll have to address it now because I've been exactly where he is now.

"That's the point, Pete. I could not do anything. But Aslan could, and he gave me strength I needed to forgive you. And He will do the same for you, if you only let Him! You need to forgive yourself if you don't want to be consumed by guilt every time you think about that day."

He starts trembling in my arms, and after another moment hushed sobs are reaching my ears. I can feel tears stinging my own eyes, and I wonder how much more emotion this day can hold.

"I don't know if I can do that, Eddy. I do not want to forget what I did so that I can make sure it never happens again. It would kill me if I ever hurt you like that again!"

My tears fall then, and if it is at all possible, I love him even more. Why does he have to be so noble all the time? Trust him to choose suffering over healing just because he thinks it's keeping me safe!

"Oh, Pete! It's not about forgetting! I'm sure neither of us will ever 'forget' what happened! It's about you not condemning yourself any longer! And it's about healing! Do you think I like it that you are carrying this around with you all the time? You have to forgive yourself, and you have to accept mine and Aslan's forgiveness! I hope you know that I truly meant it when you asked me."

I close my eyes and try to calm my racing heart. Sometimes getting through to Peter is harder than preparing for battle because he simply likes taking on responsibility for anything and everything. Peter's shaking has ceased now, and he is completely still, as if in deep contemplation, and somehow I'm glad that everything is out in the open now. I let the silence envelop us, listening to Peter's breathing and pleading with Aslan to let him understand. Then I feel a hand on my cheek, brushing my tears away, and I open my eyes again to see Peter leaning over me, seemingly much more peaceful now.

"Please, Eddy, I don't want you to be sad. I know you meant it, I would never think otherwise. And I can sort of see where you are coming from, but… This is really not easy for me."

I snort lightly and nudge him away so that I can sit up again. He really does like stating the obvious!

"It's not supposed to be easy, Peter. We wouldn't learn anything if it was. But that's what I'm here for. You know I'll help you any way I can if you just let me. Believe me, I'm even prepared to knock sense into you if you need it. And there's Aslan of course. He'll give you everything you need if you just ask Him and are willing to change your thinking."

He's sitting opposite me now, looking at me solemnly, and I would really like to know what is going on inside his head. I can usually read him pretty well, but he's giving nothing away now. The one thing that is obvious however is that his own tension is finally leaving him, and I'll regard this as a definite victory. Perhaps we can finally begin to lay the last traces of that most painful fight to rest.

Peter is grinning at me now, and I'm happier to see it than I am willing to admit.

"At least I was right about one thing: You definitely are the Wise as well. I promise you that I will work on forgiving myself, though I bet it will take time. Thank you, Eddy. Thank you for everything, for being there for me, for bearing with me, and for confronting me when I become unreasonable."

He gazes at me for a long moment while I squirm a bit uncomfortably. What's with all the praises? It's natural that I'm there for him, I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Peter now leaves the bed, bending over me to press a kiss to my forehead, and then heads to the window, looking out at the white world with a content expression on his face. Something is niggling at the back of my head, and I try to get a hold of it.

"Pete, you're very welcome, but you don't have to thank me. I'm your brother. You know what I read once? 'Brothers and sisters are as close as hands and feet.' And it's true. I could no more be not there for you than I could chop of my own foot."

I join him at the window, and he glances at me quickly with a smile, remaining otherwise silent. There's no need for words, really, he knows what I wanted to tell him, and I understand what he's not saying.

But then he surprises me once again, wrapping his arms around me from behind and drawing me to his chest, resting his chin on my shoulder.

"I don't think I tell you this often enough, but you are the best brother in the whole world, and I cannot imagine my life without you. I love you, Ed."

I blink away some more tears and look at our reflections in the windowpane, dark and fair right next to each other, like two sides of a coin. And seeing us like this, close together, I'm not sure that either of us could survive without the other. I lean my head against his, gripping his arms tightly.

"I love you too, Pete."

He smiles at me again brightly and loosens his hold on me, but I still manage to kiss his cheek before he steps away completely. The affection in his eyes grows stronger while a slight redness creeps up his face, and I have to admit I'm a bit smug about the fact that I can fluster him just as well as he sometimes does me.

"Well, come on then, brother mine. There is still someone awaiting our assistance. I am sure Lucy is already wondering what dastardly fate has befallen us up here."

As if on cue, our little sister's voice floats up the stairs.

"Peter! Edmund! What's taking you so long? I need your help here! My lions look like suns with eyes and legs and there's still flour on the cupboards!"

We look at each other and break out into peals of laughter. Poor Lucy, craftsmanship has never been her forte, she is more the musical type, and it is usually Susan who is responsible for creative things such as shaping beautiful cookies for example. But as our big sister is conspicuously absent for this year's Christmas preparations, the task has fallen to Lucy who is obviously in need of our aid now. So I gesture towards the door and bow deeply to Peter.

"My king, it appears another quest is calling for us. Let us therefore proceed to rescue our royal sister from the dreadful curse of the misshapen cookies."

Peter giggles at that – yes, it is gigging, though he'd probably deny it most vehemently – and then steps out of the room to return to the kitchen. I follow him, and when I reach him, he puts his arm around my shoulder, waiting for me to fall into step beside him. I turn slightly to close the door, and my gaze lands on the mirror again.

For a second I see not my own face, but the great Lion's head, watching me lovingly and nodding as if in approval.

The End

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

This is the song that inspired the whole story:

The reflection in the mirror cannot hide the lines of pain,
how clearly I remember standing outside in the rain.
I thought my life was over, thought I'd never love again.
The pieces of my broken heart were scattered in the rain.
But I was not alone that night, Your presence filled the air.
Had it not been for You, my Lord, I'd still be standing there.

And I stand under Your healing wings,
I open my arms and accept your grace.
Oh, I love how Your healing brings me
back to the place of the giving and taking of love.

It's still not always easy, though the scars have gone away.
I catch myself remembering that cold and dreary day.
I remember how I could not breathe, could not collect my thoughts,
on a wild rollercoaster that I could not get off.
But I remember crystal-clear the words You said to me:
"I love him more than you do, my Child, so forgive and set him free."


Thank you all so much for reading the story and writing such wonderful comments! Please tell me what you think of the last chapter, and also if you want me to write the spinoff I mentioned in the beginning. It would probably be AU from movieverse because… Well, you'd have to see it. :)

I'll give you a small snippet of what I have already written:

Peter stormed out of the park, his rage still at the point of boiling over and so white-hot that it was a wonder the raindrops did not evaporate as soon as they touched him. There was no clear thought in his mind, and had he met anyone at this precise moment, the consequences might have been dire. As it was, the rain was keeping everyone indoors, and he was left to his anger and his furious indignation.

How dare he? How dare Edmund say he was no king? Never in his life had he been insulted so horrendously, and if that was not a stab in the back he did not know what was! If they had been in Narnia, he would have challenged the… the offender to a duel immediately to restore his honour and to demand satisfaction!

I'd be happy to hear your thoughts. It would probably take me some time to post this because I have two presentations and term papers for university coming up.