Okay, I'm so sorry it took so long. I hate this chapter SO much. I really do. I'm gonna regret I put it up. But, it's here. Critics, I'm not ready, but I know you're there. -cowers- But, when I was writing, I was listening to a mixture of music that kinda influenced on my words, so that may be a reason for the spikes in emotion and stuff. oO; Anyways, please read my note at the bottom as well. Oh! Also, I raised the rating to T just in case...

There was more than one person wandering the halls after dark.

Lila sat alone in one of the various courtyards, seated on the edge of a magnificent stone statue displaying a Horse in full rear, releasing a spray of water from his mouth. Beads of water dotted her hair from the fountain, but she less than cared. It soothed her, just the sound of running water.

Where was this going? She had never intended on kissing the King; never part of her plan...yet...She thought...maybe...of him as, at the very least a friend. More? More than likely...

Love was not her strong point, and she had no ways of resisting it. She had never been truly shown it. Her father most certainly hadn't doted on her, and she had never met her mother. For you see, each of her words of her past had been true. A bit more detailed than she would have wished it, but true nonetheless. So, when she had blindly crawled into Narnia at the age of eleven, the Golden Age had been built a year ago, the Witch and Winter gone. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for her followers. The wolves had found her, and in her desperation, she had followed everything they had said; starting with killing the imposters that had overthrown the greatest Queen Narnia had ever knelt for.

Against her wishes, tears welled in her eyes. She couldn't kill them...not after today...or yesterday, she supposed. No...already, their wondrous attitudes had influenced on her chilled soul. And Edmund...well...

"Lila?"

She didn't even look up, though her heart gave a great leap at the voice. Oh, it was bliss...She loved it...Smooth, yet so rugged and grave... Tears trickled down her face, and she hurriedly wiped them away.

His arm draped around her shoulder as he fell beside her, brown eyes studying her solemn face quizzically. "Lila..." She glanced up at Edmund's weary face, noticing the concern brimming his eyes.

She coughed quietly, trying to look accusingly at him. "Shouldn't you be asleep?" she snapped.

He blinked. Did everyone as him that hypocritically? "Shouldn't you?" he replied, his tone considerably softer than hers.

Silence ruled their conversation for a few minutes, Lila leaning close beside Edmund. Finally, she asked, her voice cracking, "confused?"

He downcast his eyes. "Yes."

She nodded, a deep sigh escaping her. "I am, too."

---

A single blue eye fluttered open. Was it morning already?

He groaned, stumbling over himself as he propped himself up on one elbow. Blearily, he blinked his eyes, trying to clear his slurred vision. It wasn't necessarily clear, but clear enough to distinguish the dark sky signifying that he was awake much too early. He fell back against the bed, curling up beneath the covers. 'Goodness...I feel like a drunken Edmund during the night...'

Wait...Edmund?

He opened his eyes again. Hadn't he gone into his brother's room last night...or earlier anyways...He wasn't in his room...Yes, he was in his brother's room. But...Where was Edmund?

Awake in an instant, he tossed the covers aside, slipping from the bed. "Dear Lion, what has he gotten into now?" he hissed to himself, trying to be angry. But, in all actuality, he was frightened. Edmund never slipped off like that. His brother was infamous for his late awakening, sometimes half-way through breakfast (the other times Peter, Susan, and Lucy forced him awake). There was nothing normal about a late night walk.

The Owls proved to be much help. After a few moments of conversing, he was able to find out that, yes, Edmund had left, and, yes, he had gone that way. A bit more relieved that his brother hadn't done anything stupid, yet, he walked with more ease. They had said they had last seen him enter the southern courtyard. He hadn't left the castle; at least he had some sense.

Something was wrong; like Susan said, it probably was nothing, or fairly insignificant. But it was enough to upset his brother in the slightest ways, and it carried off into a larger scale onto Peter.

He would understand, though, by the end of this walk. He would get Ed to talk, and he would set whatever was wrong before it grew to be a problem. After all, things were better dealt before they occurred, weren't they? That was the smart thing to do.

He continued to convince this to himself until he neared the courtyard. Now he slowed, a slight timidness growing inside him. But before he could even poke his head inside to make sure his brother was in there, slight whispers of a conversation reached him. He paused mid-step, waiting, listening. The voices had stopped...if there had been any at all.

---

That same odd, light feeling was taking hold of him again...It was all too familiar. Except, this time, he wasn't as nearly as afraid.

But if his quietness was the result of their earlier moment in the wood, why then, was he repeating it?

That was a good question...But the strange thing was, was that the question wasn't anywhere in his thoughts. It might have done him better, perhaps, if he had. He didn't, though. But he did remember his firm statement of never liking girls.

Overruled. Guilty. Case closed.

Neither of them was quite sure what was happening until their lips met. It was a softer kiss, carrying the equal innocence of a first, yet that seemed to change quicker than not. Her hands rested on his shoulders momentarily, until she let them slide, exploring his back, caressing his dark hair. He let her be, still light-headed, not really quite sure what was happening. Who was she again?

That didn't seem to matter though. His hands met her waist, pulling her onto his lap, both of their hearts racing against one another's.

Lyla...Looli...He couldn't recall...

His hands found the back of her neck, her cool, watery hair falling over them, seeming to ripple to the touch. He pulled her closer without really even realizing it, and she fell further into his kiss. Goodness, if he knew quite exactly what was happening...But he didn't. No. It didn't matter. Not now. Not ever.

---

The High King of Narnia had been trained and instructed in so many ways to expect anything. Between all the bewilderment he had experienced in the early years of his leadership, Orieus and many others had done their best to introduce as many customs, species, and weapons to their King. They had brought out enormous books of literature and history for him to study from early morning until the sun had begun to slide over the horizon, so that when leaders and other enemies brought out conversation as a key to their advantage, he would always know exactly how to respond in the correct way. After five years of intense learning, High King Peter Pevensie of Narnia was always expecting anything out of the ordinary.

So it was very alarming when he found himself completely and utterly dumbfounded to the clearest extent when he peered into the courtyard, watching the shocking events unfold.

One thing was for sure; he had found his brother.

And what had been bothering him, probably.

...He couldn't be seeing right.

No way.

He had been slightly set off guard when he had seen them finishing their conversation...but then they had leaned forward...and...

He fell back, closing his eyes a moment.

'Dear Aslan, have mercy on my sanity.'

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, convinced that he had seen wrong. After a moment, he gazed back into the courtyard. His mouth dropped open slightly as he fell back once more.

"Ed...mund?" he whispered.

This could not be his snappy, stubborn, little brother.

---

Finally, it stopped. He couldn't quite say he was relieved because of it--in fact, he was slightly sorry--but it was a sick, nagging feeling that crept up within him that made him draw away. He had the strangest sensation it was guilt.

He pulled his hands back from her waist as he opened his eyes quickly, moving to stand.

Strangely, at the same time, Lila as well drew back, climbing off of him and sliding away a bit as she stood, as though afraid to be exactly near the boy king.

"I should go." It was hard to tell which teen spoke first, but both voices had a slight tremor and jerk to them. Neither felt exactly normal after that, and it showed terribly. Their expressions manifested discomfort, confusion, and even that icky feeling of guilt, and it only made one another saddened to see it reflected in the other's eyes.

But they both were pleased to see that odd little light shining when they glanced at each other, glowing brighter than before. And almost as quick as they had caught sight of it, their guilt melted away.

Lila probably would have melted into his arms, too, and he probably wouldn't have minded, either, were it not for a slight uneasiness tugging violently at his consciousness. "I should go," he repeated quietly, crossing his arms behind his back. Not that he wanted to.

She blinked drearily, lacing her fingers together. Both of their faces were flushed. "I shan't stay either," she muttered quietly, quickly.

Before he could fold and cry her pardon, that he wouldn't leave, she turned. "Goodnight, King Edmund," she bid farewell curtly, her voice cracking, and left.

Miserably, Edmund was left to leave the other way.

---

Oh, thank Aslan.

Peter turned and left the moment his brother jerked away, afraid to look back in case...that happened again. Besides, he was far from wanting to be discovered. Goodness knows what Edmund would do then. Then Peter would be crashing to the floor with his little brother pinning him down.

Wouldn't he?

Gasping slightly, he slipped back into Edmund's room, tossing the covers aside, dropping onto the bed heavily. He hoped he had disappeared quickly enough. Now he debated whether to act as though asleep, or confront his brother. That little hypocrite! Don't like girls his foot. Really now.

Just as his face began darkening, the door creaked open. Oh, now he would get it...

Edmund showed no signs of surprise that his brother sat awake on the edge of the bed, as though waiting for him--which in a way, he was. In fact, much to Peter's alarm, he seemed to show no emotion at all. His eyes were hollow, manifesting a deep void of pure nothingness. Peter blinked, his mouth forming a small 'o'. In actuality, it seemed as though his brother would start to cry at any moment.

And Edmund did cry. He fell forward and crumpled in a heap in Peter's arms and sobbed. He wasn't really quite sure why, but the tears flowed freely, and he let them be.

"Ed..." It was all Peter could find to say as he held his brother, quite surprised at the sudden show of emotion. Dear Aslan... "Edmund..." His reply was a sniff, followed closely by a deep, choking sob.

Goodness...Wouldn't Peter start to wonder?

With renewed vigor, he attempted to control his cries, his fingers digging into his brother's tunic as he clenched his teeth, fighting back a sob.

"It's alright..."

'It's not!'

"Easy..."

'I can't!'

"Shh..."

'I want to.'

"Ed..."

'Peter...'

"I'm here..."

'Help me...'

Finally, he eased himself, cutting off his sobbing with forced abruptness as he gasped, blinking back tears furiously. "There," Peter murmured, ruffling his brother's dark hair as Edmund quieted. He let him be, being a silent comfort for now.

After a few minutes of silent tears on his brother's part, he cradled his brother, gently laying him down in his bed, pulling up the covers around the boy, Edmund's eyes leaking stray tears.

He was fighting. He didn't want to be anywhere near Lila, yet at the mere thought of her, that was the exact opposite of what he wanted.

This was why he hated love.

"Ed?" Peter broke the silence with slight caution, sensing the thin ice willing to break at any moment. He knew that it might not be the best time to question his little brother, but he couldn't help but ask. This was upsetting and confusing, and just a bit too odd for the High King, and he was determined to hear what Edmund had to say about it. But Edmund wasn't quite up to talking.

He glanced up at his older brother, almost pleading with him to drop it and say they didn't. But Edmund Pevensie wasn't the only one who carried irritable stubbornness. Ignoring the silent 'stop', he went on, "Edmund...isn't there anything...?" He wasn't quite sure exactly how to ask the question. Really, he wanted to ask, "Why the hell were YOU, of all people, kissing a girl? And..." "What's wrong?" he voiced, a slight tremor to his voice.

His response was Edmund squeezing his eyes shut, wiping his tears hurriedly away. He was shaking his head. 'No.'

"Edmund." His tone grew firm, despite his sympathy reaching out for him. Maybe if he hadn't stumbled in on his brother, he wouldn't be as pressing. Maybe.

"Peter," the younger boy spat, a touch of warning to his cracking voice, his lip curling in a snarl. His actions were beginning to reel dangerously from him without registering what exactly he was doing, and he already was feeling a touch of regret at his snappish attitude. That didn't stop him in the least from being completely spiteful in his moment of weakness.

"Ed..." Peter closed his eyes in silent pain. "Don't. Please...I just want to help..."

'Please help me.'

"You're not!" he hissed, burning, raw fury filling his eyes. 'I didn't mean that!' Again, his thoughts ran silently over his tongue. But, Peter wasn't a mind-reader, and his expression was hurt.

That only angered Edmund more. Why couldn't Peter understand! Why couldn't he understand that Edmund wanted to talk about it, but he couldn't?

And Peter felt hurt?

Of course, that was terribly unfair to his older brother, but that was beyond the boy king at this point.

"Edmund..."

"Get out." It was quiet, shaking with restraint at first. But his voice rose, taking on a terrible, crashing crescendo. "Get out!"

Peter bit his lip, falling silent, his eyes manifesting withering turmoil.

Tears began to fall from Edmund again. He wasn't trying to be downright unfair...

"Please," he begged quietly. "Get out. Just get out."

The older boy clenched his teeth, setting his jaw. Leaving was the last thing he wanted to do. But talking wasn't doing anything, most obviously.

"Alright, Ed." He ran his fingers through his hair. "I'll leave...I'll leave."

And much to Edmund's surprise and dismay, Peter turned--and left.

For a moment, he stared at the closed door with wide eyes, expecting--hoping-- Peter would come back in. But his brother did not. For the first time, Peter had listened to him against his own orders; and Edmund hated him for it. For longer than not, he waited, staring hard at the door.

But Peter had listened.

Crestfallen, he fell back against the bed, curling up beneath the silk sheets piteously. Even in his own room, he felt suffocated, drowning in his whirling thoughts. Twice that night now...twice...

Whether from lack of air or fatigue finally creeping up on him, he finally slipped into restless sleep. And as he did, he couldn't help but think that maybe he had said two things he hadn't meant that night.

Okay. I'll start here.

I reaaaaaalllllllllly did NOT like this chapter. Did not did not did NOT. I had writer's block through the entire thing. Seriously; I probably wrote two sentances down a day. And then a few days back I went and deleted a whole scene because I felt if-y on it...So, trust me, I'm not expecting great reviews or anything on this one. Though I AM expecting a review. C: