Why, look! Another one! Thanks to PheonixFeather10, my brilliant, new beta! Wonderful to have you along for this ride :)

"Ed?" A candle beside his bed, his sister's long hair falling across his face. "Edmund? Come on, wake up. E-e-d." He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Lucy? What izzt?"

"She's asking for you."

Edmund threw aside the bedcovers and bolted past his sister. He flew through the halls till he reached where the girls' rooms lay. Susan was waiting for him, wringing her hands and tears standing in her eyes.

"She won't let anyone near her. When Lucy asked if she wanted anything all she said is your name."

Edmund took her face in his hands a moment and kissed her forehead. "Don't you worry about it. I'll take care of her. Why don't you go see if you can find her some warm milk or tea or something." She nodded but waited till she'd seen him into the room before hastening off toward the kitchens.

Edmund stepped quietly through the door of the girls' room. There was only a single candle on a side table and the bed of the former slave girl was untouched. "Little Lady? Where are you then? The girls are worried." He stepped farther in and heard a choked sob. He found her curled up in the corner beyond the bed. "Here now," he whispered, coming to kneel before her. "What's this, then?" He stretched his hands out, palms up, but didn't dare touch her. "Did they come again?"

The girl's face fell against her knees, nodding ever so slightly. Her hands came up, almost meeting his, then dropped beside her feet.

"Ah," Edmund nodded sagely. "Them dafty nightmares." He lay his own hands next to hers, still careful not to touch her. "Will you tell me, Little Lady? It helps to tell, sometimes." No response, though the muffled sobs were starting to slow. "Very well, then. I'll tell of the one I had last night, shall I? I haven't had tonight's yet." The girl stilled, and he knew she was now listening most intently. He'd never talked about his own dreams with her. Never really thought of it. But it just sort of came out, before he stopped to think about it.

"It's usually the same, which somehow makes it worse, you know." Of course she knew. Edmund was sure her dreams were much like his, at least in that respect. He continued, as best he could. "It's the battlefield, drenched in….in-never mind that. It's a battlefield. The first one I saw but with the carnage of all I've seen since. And the White Witch is standing there, wand in her hand. There's a body at her feet, sometimes it's one of the girls but it's usually Peter. They're-" His voice broke at that point. It was so much harder than he'd imagined. His siblings had always said it was better to talk it out, that was the advice he'd just recited off,after all. But he'd never managed it. And here he was, spouting it off to some girl!

It was then, that she moved again. Just her hand, gripping his. He swallowed hard. "They're dead," he whispered hoarsely. "And it's suddenly dark and so very cold." He shivered and the old scar twinged painfully. His arm wrapped around himself, trying to stave off the shakes. "I...I don't think I can say anymore." It was always so clear in his mind. To remember it when he was awake, it put him right there in the withered grass, and the stench, the gleam of triumph in his bitterest enemy's eyes.

Edmund shook again and stood, twisting almost convulsively toward the door. But he went stock still at the timid voice behind him.

"Thank you."

"For what?" It came out much harsher than he'd meant it, and he winced, sinking onto the big, sturdy trunk at the foot of Lucy's bed. The girl didn't speak again and after several minutes, Edmund spoke up. "Her wand is never broken. No matter how many times I dream, I can never get there and smash it again. Aslan's still dead. There isn't even any hope of his coming back." His head fell, chin landing on his chest. " I think that's what scares me the most, the lack of hope. Even when I was in her clutches there was somehow still the faintest hope that he'd come for me. Or kill me off, so that I wouldn't have to suffer under her anymore." He laughed suddenly, dark and a little bitter. "What a pair we make. I'm supposed to be calming you down, but now I need it too."

A movement from the corner and then the girl was there, sitting on the floor beside him. Her head slowly rested on his knee and one slender hand landed on his foot. "That's alright," she whispered, so faintly he almost couldn't hear. "Isn't that what Aslan does? Comforts us when we can't ourselves?"

"Yes," he replied, carefully running his fingers through the short chestnut curls spreading across his knee. "I suppose so."

"I still need to learn that," she murmured.

"Me too, Little Lady," Edmund took a deep breath. "Me too."

"But even in this dark, just knowing someone else understands…"She trailed off, fingers floating over his bare toes as she drifted in thought.

"Stop, that tickles." He almost laughed as he moved his foot out from under her hand. She looked up, surprise written all over her tear stained face. Edmund gently brushed a hand over her cheek. "No more crying, Little Lady?" She nodded and he pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. "There now. All better."

A small grin quirked the corners of her pretty little mouth and he was suddenly very tempted to kiss her there as well. He stood abruptly. "Alright. Back to bed. You'll be alright for the rest of the night won't you."

"Yes." Her hand came up, just enough courage still hidden in her eyes, to brush his wrist and down the backs of his fingers. "But will you? You still haven't had your, um, dafty? Nightmares."

Edmund pulled away regretfully. "I'll be fine, don't you worry."

She stood slowly, and sat on the edge of her bed, tucking her feet under the edge of her nightgown. "Tell Peter."

"What?"

"Tell Peter about your nightmares. He probably has them too. Lucy does sometimes."

That startled him. Peter was too strong, too noble for nightmares and Lucy too young, innocent. But no, he supposed they really weren't. "Fine. Maybe I'll tell him sometime." He made his way across the room and turned back, in the doorway. "Sleep well, Little Lady."

She smiled back, though a thought was making it's way in wrinkles across her forehead.

Just as he was about to pull the door shut, he heard the faintest whisper. "Miri."

He poked his head back around. "What was that?"

"Miri. That's my name."

"Miri. Pretty, that. Well, then, good night, Miri."

"Good night, Edmund. But please don't tell anyone."

One eyebrow crept up, but he wasn't sure he felt like questioning it just then. "If you like."

"Thank you."

He pulled the door shut and was met with three pairs of eyes, watching him.

"She's asleep. Or will be at any rate."

Lucy put her hands together, smiling and bouncing on her toes. "Oh, Edmund! How do you do it? You're so good at it."

He shrugged and Susan stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?" She asked her brother.

Another shrug.

"Come on, it's late," Peter spoke up. "We should all get to bed." Hugs were exchanged and Lucy scattered kisses liberally among all her siblings. The girls quietly entered their room as the boys walked down the hall to theirs.

Peter slung an arm over Edmund's shoulders and gave him a little shake. "Get your head out of the clouds, Ed. What is it?"

Edmund looked up at his older brother. "I don't know. She told me not to tell."