So, I had no intentions of continuing this. None whatsoever. But then I was asked very nicely to add a little bit more bonding between Peter and Edmund, so here it is. Enjoy.

"Is he—is he up? Is he awake?" Edmund stumbled into the room, bleary-eyed and disheveled.

She glared at him. "You're supposed to be asleep."

He gave her his most charming smile. "Well, yes, but Peter is—"

"I know exactly how Peter is. You're still supposed to be asleep!"

A chuckle from the direction of the bed cut into what might have been a full-scale argument, since they were certainly both tired enough for it. "She's right, little brother. Aslan knows that you were as much involved in the battle as I was."

"Yeah, but I made it home on my own two feet," Edmund muttered. "And besides," he went on hurriedly, clearly trying to gloss over the comment he made a moment ago, "I heard that you were doing better. I had to come. I just had to!"

At that, she frowned, having been listening to their conversation up to this point. Who would leak such sensitive information, knowing that the younger king would be up at the drop of a hat if he heard it? A brief search around the room revealed one of the fauns missing. She pursed her lips. Well, he was here now, and there was nothing to be done about it. Nothing that would be received kindly, that is.

"—didn't have to, though. I'm sure that Su would have told you when you woke. Wouldn't you have?"

"Hmm?" She turned as she realized he was addressing her. "Oh, yes. Of course."

"See?"

Edmund smiled. "But the minute I woke wouldn't have been the earliest time I could have seen you."

"It's good to see you, too," Peter grinned back.

"I can keep him company now, sis." Her younger brother came and put his arm around her.

She pulled away. "Oh, no. I want you to go back to bed. Your eyelids are already drooping. There's no way you had enough sleep!"

"You're not one to be talking. Did you get any rest last night?" She didn't answer, so he went on. "I'll take good care of him, I promise." And the boy turned such an imploring expression on her that she had to avert her eyes to remain firm.

"I'm fine." She hoped she sounded more convincing than she felt.

He raised his eyebrows at her. "Oh, yeah?"

She humored him with a smile. "Yes. Besides, this isn't about me. It's about you and how you need as much rest as Peter does. Maybe more."

"Just a few minutes?" His dark eyes startled her in their intensity, and she remembered the difficulty he was having with Peter's injury in the first place—the guilt she knew he felt about it. Perhaps a few minutes before forcing him back to bed couldn't hurt.

"Very well," she conceded after some deliberation. "But you have to go rest right afterwards."

He nodded in agreement, and watched as she moved over to fluff the pillows. After that, she picked up a book and retired to a corner. She had no desire to interfere with their conversation, but she wanted to be sure she could intervene if they began tiring themselves out.

Once she had turned away, Edmund stood by the bed, took Peter's hand, blinked his eyes several times in succession, tried to say something, found he couldn't, and clamped his mouth shut. With a sigh, he sank down on the edge of the mattress. They stayed that way, in silence, for what seemed like a long time.

Finally, Peter broke the quiet. "Alright, Ed. What's bothering you?"

"Bothering me?" the younger stuttered. "Nothing, I—" He faltered to a stop at his brother's expression.

"Tell me," his brother coaxed gently, and a loud sniff drew her attention up sharply. She was just in time to see Edmund make a brief search for his handkerchief, then run his sleeve under his nose. It was apparent that he was fighting emotion and fighting to hide that he was fighting it, and unfortunately not doing a good job on either count.

"You're alive," he whispered at last. "After the attack, after—everything, I was afraid you wouldn't— You took a hard hit, Peter!" he exclaimed suddenly, standing upright. "What if you hadn't made it? And it would have been—it would have been—" The boy trailed off, eyes wide, and looked away quickly.

"—it would have been your fault," the elder finished in a thoughtful tone, understanding dawning on his exhausted countenance. "Edmund, no. No, no, no. My injury is in no way your fault." His brother still wouldn't make eye contact. "Ed, sit down." The young man seated himself again on the bed, and Peter shifted to put his arm around him.

She smiled to herself as she observed them. If anyone could alleviate Edmund's guilt, it would be Peter. Turning again to her book, she realized abruptly that had read the same line over—and over. She had been so involved in their conversation that she couldn't even remember when she last turned the page! Glancing up quickly, and seeing they hadn't noticed, she smiled sheepishly and turned the page for good measure.

"—can't blame yourself," her golden-haired brother was saying. "You know you'd have done the same for me." Edmund made a small sign of agreement, but clearly was not yet convinced. "Look, if you had taken the blow for me, would I be beating myself up about it?"

"Yes," the boy muttered in response, an ornery smirk beginning to form on the corner of his lips.

Peter stared at him for a moment, then laughed. "I suppose you're right. But I'm okay now, Ed. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."

His brother nodded, gave him a watery smile, and enveloped him in a hug. "I'm glad you're alright, Pete," he murmured against the elder's shoulder. "I don't know what I would have done otherwise."

"Cross that bridge when you come to it, and not before. 'Sufficient for the day is its own trouble,' right?"

"Right," Edmund whispered.

"Besides, if anything were ever to happen to me, Aslan would give you the strength you need. It's not something to be ignored or feared, but simply prepared for." His tone had changed as he said this, sounding more like the High King he was than the invalid he needed to be at this point. She gauged the younger's reaction at those words, and watched as he swallowed and looked away, seemingly unsure how to respond.

"May that day never come," he replied softly, his gaze still locked on the floor.

Suddenly, his dark eyes closed completely, and his head drifted down to rest on his chest, then snapped back up rapidly. This happened two more times, and she hid a smile. Obviously, his few minutes were ended.

She had just begun to get up to usher him out when Peter put a hand on his shoulder. "Why don't you go back and get some more rest? I'm glad you're more mobile than I am today, but don't take advantage of it and push yourself."

Edmund shook his head slightly, probably trying to clear it. "No, no. I'm fine."

He was partially interrupted by a golden chuckle. "Somehow I don't quite believe that, little brother. You're nodding off."

The boy turned a nice shade of pink and glanced up quickly to see her standing over him. "You know we're just doing it to help," she told him, smiling sweetly.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm sure," he grumbled. "Perhaps just a few—"

"No!" she and Peter said together.

"If you don't get your strength back, too, I'll be doing all the training without you."

"And I will send in Mrs. Beaver to fuss over you."

His eyes widened and he stood and took a step back. "Alright, I'm going." He started heading towards the door, and his older siblings could hear him muttering, "Training is one thing, but Mrs. Beaver is something else altogether…"

Once he had gone, Peter looked at her and grinned. "That was a nice bit about Mrs. Beaver. I don't think I would have thought of that."

She shrugged. "Well, it worked, anyhow. But he's not the only one who needs to go to sleep, you know. All this talking, I'm sure has—"

"You're right, he isn't the only one who needs to go to sleep." And he looked at her pointedly.

Now it was her turn to flash him one of her smiles. "But someone needs to be here to keep you company!"

"Peter! You're up! Why didn't someone wake me?"

"Lucy!" the king exclaimed in delight at seeing the newcomer.

"Lucy," she repeated, eyes dancing with suppressed amusement. Perfect timing.

"I can stay here now, Susan." The girl stopped rubbing her eyelids and looped her arm through her sister's. "So you can get some rest."

Thus defeated, she gave in and replaced the book on Peter's shelf. "I can't fight all of you," she murmured next to his ear as she returned to straighten the covers one last time before she withdrew.

He gave her a knowing grin and winked. "I'll see you later, Su," he returned in an undertone. "Pleasant dreams."

She giggled softly and shook her head as she strode out the door, heading to her apartments. Yes, it was certainly good that her brothers were home. A bit battered, perhaps, but they would recover soon, and be none the worse for everything they'd gone through. Joy certainly did come in the morning, didn't it?

Thank you again for reading. I would love to know what you thought of it!