Disclaimer: Edmund and Peter Pevensie and all the characters and situations in the Chronicles of Narnia belong to C. S. Lewis and not to me.

INFAMY

"She– she's gone."

Lucy stared at the floor, at the place where Cerise had fallen, and Edmund put his arm around her shoulders, shaken himself.

"Gilfrey must have known she was going to tell what she knew and had her tree cut down." He shook his head. "How could she have thought she was doing what was best for Narnia?"

Lucy looked at him, a sad little smile on her lips. "It wasn't for Narnia."

"What do you mean? Of course it was, at least she thought it was. She said–"

"For the High King, Ed. For Peter."

Edmund wrinkled his forehead. "You mean–"

"She loved him." Tears filled Lucy's eyes. "He probably never even noticed."

"Why in the world–"

"Oh, don't be such a boy, Edmund. You're supposed to be the discerning one. How could you not see it?"

"Obviously Gilfrey saw it and used it, just as he's been using Susan's fears." Edmund sank down on the bed, and Lucy sat with him. "What are we going to do now? She was our best chance at having someone testify against him."

Lucy shrugged. "Can't we just tell what happened? What she said?"

"And who will believe it? Susan? She thinks you're not right in the head, and she thinks I'm–"

He swallowed hard. Even knowing his older sister had been deceived and manipulated, it still hurt beyond imagining to think that she, not under the influence of any spell or potion, could believe him guilty of the heinous things he'd been charged with. He could still feel her slap across his mouth after she had read that abominable letter from the Tarkaan and the more brutal sting of her soft words, testifying against him at his trial.

"Susan will have to be shown definite proof before she'll believe us, Lu. Peter trusted the Snake, so she thinks she can trust him as well."

Lucy squeezed his hand and nestled comfortingly closer. "She didn't want to believe it of you, Edmund. It broke her heart to think any of it was true. She's been trying so hard to keep on, to not fall apart without you and without Peter, but it's killing her."

He patted her hand with his free one. "Aslan is with us, Lu. We'll get it all sorted somehow. Meanwhile–"

They both gasped at the pounding on the chamber door.

"Your Majesty? Queen Lucy? We must ask that you open the door at once."

Edmund leapt up and, with one finger over his lips, he urged Lucy towards the door. Then he disappeared behind her curtain as he had before.

"Come, My Lady." The gruff voice was growing impatient. "Open up."

From his hiding place, Edmund saw Lucy muss her hair and then, after a few deliberate seconds more, unbolt the door.

She yawned and blinked in the light of the torches. "It's still dark, Aran."

"I beg your pardon, My Queen." The Satyr was usually given charge over the soldiers who guarded the exterior of the Cair and was not often present in the royal quarters. "We have had word that the Traitor has been seen here in the castle. I am commanded to search everywhere. For your safety."

Edmund stepped back into the passage that had been his entrance into Lucy's chamber and held his breath. Sagepaw and some of the other Hounds were already in the room. He could hear them snuffling and pawing at the curtain. Just a little sprinkle of pixie dust, he had told Lucy. Would it be enough?

"Someone saw Edmund?" Lucy asked, eyes wide as she clutched the Satyr's arm. "Here?"

Aran shifted uneasily on his cloven hooves. "I– I'm not precisely sure of the details, My Queen. But we've been given orders to search. In the name of the High King."

Edmund clenched his jaw. Gilfrey again.

"But where was he seen?" Lucy asked. "Who saw him?"

She kept tugging at the Satyr's arm, badgering him with questions, her eyes wide and helpless. Dear Lu. Was there a better, stealthier ally to have in Narnia or all the worlds?

"There is no one here," came Sagepaw's mournful voice at last. "Where else shall we search?"

"Pardon the intrusion, My Queen," Aran said, bowing. "Please. Go back to sleep."

"Good night then." Lucy smiled sweetly. "Or should I say 'good morning'?"

She gave them all a little wave and then bolted the door once more. After a long, silent moment, Edmund came out of hiding.

"Gilfrey knows you're here," Lucy breathed. "He knows."

"Or he thinks he knows. No doubt he was in league with the Hag that testified against me, the same one who tried to keep me from getting the fruit. He's got eyes and ears all over Narnia. By now, he must know I have the cure and am trying to get it to Peter." Edmund peeked around the curtain and saw that the sun was just rising over the edge of the sea. "Get some snow, Lu, and let it melt. I'll put a few drops of juice in it and you can take it to Peter. Just be careful when you do. Give him a little at a time and stay with him until you see he's all right."

"What about you?" She reached up to caress his cheek. "You look exhausted."

"I can't fall asleep just yet. It's too risky, even in the passage. Gilfrey knows it's there, even if he can't tell anyone else. Cerise obviously knew about it."

She nodded. "Stay out of sight. Let me see to Peter for a little while, then I'll come back and keep watch while you sleep."

He leaned wearily into her hand. "You've been up all night, too."

"It'll be all right. We'll take turns."

"What a wonder you are, Lu." He hugged her tight. "Take care of Peter."

OOOOO

"There you are." Trying to ignore her usual morning headache, Susan stretched and stood up and gave her sister a peck on the cheek. "You're usually in here at first light. Everything all right?"

Lucy nodded, her expression as sweet and untroubled as always. "I brought Peter some fresh water. He likes it cold."

Susan sighed. "Be careful. You know you're bad about spilling."

"I won't spill a drop. I promise."

Susan watched as she emptied the cup, only bit by bit, into Peter's mouth. At first it made him gasp a little as Lucy held him against her. Susan was about to call for Cerise, but then he calmed and was still again.

"See?" Lucy stroked his forehead and then kissed his cheek. "I didn't spill any."

Susan smiled and leaned down to kiss their brother's pale cheek, too. Then she also put her hand on his forehead. "He does feel just a bit cooler, doesn't he?"

"This is good news."

Susan turned, smiling to see Sir Gilfrey come into the room. "Yes, isn't it wonderful?"

The Knight bowed low. "It is a good morning indeed, My Queens. And to what do we owe His Majesty's improvement, apart from the grace of Aslan?"

Lucy seemed to have a sudden fascination with the lacings on the sleeves of Peter's nightshirt and didn't look up, but Susan smiled at the Knight still. "I don't know. After all this time, he's just . . . better."

"And what do the healers say, Lady?"

"I probably should send for Cerise. She's usually here to check on the High King by now." Susan turned at the low sound her sister made. "Are you all right, Lucy?"

Lucy smiled vaguely. "Sometimes I get a catch in my throat."

"Do be careful, dear." Susan patted her hand and then turned to the Knight once more. "What was all that commotion in the corridor earlier, Gil?"

He looked grieved. "It was nothing, My Queen. Some of the soldiers thought they saw an intruder, but we found no one. Do not let it trouble you."

"Edmund." Tears burned behind her eyes, but she refused to let them escape. "It was, wasn't it? I heard some of the soldiers–"

"That was the fear." He took her hand, caressing it in both of his own. "No doubt, after his disgrace, he wishes to be avenged on the High King and all of you. But I will see he never gets through. If it costs my life, Lady, I swear it."

She squeezed his hand. "It's good of you to watch over us as you do. But, please, Gil, be gentle with him. If he comes back to Narnia, don't hurt him."

In spite of everything, the betrayals, the blasphemies, even the murders, Susan could never picture Edmund as anything but her little brother, the sweet-faced boy with mischievous dark eyes who had almost died on the battlefield at Beruna, the one she had scolded and mothered and worried over these ten years and before. It hurt too much to think of him as a man capable of such evil.

She squeezed the Knight's hand even more tightly. "Please don't hurt him."

"It is the decree of the High King, Lady. It was mercy that spared your younger brother the block or the rope from the start. When he left, it was made plain to him the consequences of returning to Narnia."

"I know." She sighed. "I know."

He kissed her hand. "Do not trouble yourself, My Queen. It is likely your brother will be wise enough to stay outside our territories, and there need be no unpleasantness."

Susan nodded, her smile warming infinitesimally. "Will you join us for breakfast, Gil?"

"Alas, no, Majesty. There are some matters I must see to this morning. There is a dispute with one of the Galman lords that must be settled. I hope, with His High Majesty still ill, it will not be necessary for me to be away."

"I hope not, Gil. But at least Galma isn't far."

"No, Lady. A visit of a day or two. No more."

"Christmas isn't far away. I wonder if you'll be here for that." Lucy's eyes were fixed on the lacing at Peter's wrist as she pulled it out and at once began lacing it back again, laying it just so, her voice dreamily placid as always. "Edmund will be home by then."

Susan was a little puzzled by the intensity in the smile the Knight gave Lucy.

"By Christmas, Little Queen?" He nodded. "I hope you and all those you love will be together by that time."

Susan stroked her sister's fair hair. It was only kindness in the Knight, giving Lucy that impossible hope, but Gil was always kind. And maybe, at least for now, kindness was better than reason. It really wasn't Lucy's fault she couldn't see things as they truly were.

OOOOO

Edmund nearly nodded off several times before Lucy returned. He ended up pacing the narrow length of the secret passage over and over again, breathing desperate pleas to Aslan to keep his family safe and deliver them from the Snake's coils. Just as he felt certain he would fall asleep on his feet, Lucy came back. Once she had told him what had happened, once he was sure that Peter was doing as well as could be expected, he ate greedily of the breakfast she had smuggled in to him. Then he slept.

It was late in the night when he crept back into Peter's room. Susan was again curled up in the chair at his bedside, drugged and insensible, but when Edmund came closer he saw that Peter's eyes were open. The juice of the Canicule was helping.

"Peter?"

Edmund went to him, kneeling beside the bed as he had before and clutching his hand. Peter stared at him, bewildered, and then reached up.

"So many dreams. So many nightmares." His hand trembled against Edmund's cheek, and there was fearful uncertainty in his eyes. "Thought you were real. You said you were. Then you were dead again." His voice shook and, breath quickening, he gripped Edmund's hand more tightly. "There was a Snake. Coiled around you. Crushing you to death. And I couldn't get to you, I couldn't–"

"It's all right, Peter. It was only a dream."

"Don't know what's real anymore, Eddie. Can't remember. Can't think. When I was in Ettinsmoor–"

"Shh, Peter, listen to me. Listen. Your nightmares, the headaches, all the problems remembering and concentrating, they're because of a potion you've been given. For months now. There's nothing wrong with you. It's all this poison."

"I'm not–" Peter's eyes filled with tears, and his lips trembled into a smile. "I'm not–"

"You're not losing your mind, Peter. You're all right. I promise, you're all right."

Peter nodded rapidly, trembling, too choked to speak.

"You're already getting better again. Take this."

Edmund uncorked the silver flask and gave his brother a few more drops of the liquid, watching him for any reaction. Peter only coughed and took a few quick breaths and then blinked sleepily.

"Listen to me," Edmund urged. "Listen."

Peter struggled to focus on what he was saying.

"It's Gilfrey, Peter. He's the one who's been poisoning you."

"Gil?" Peter shook his head, bewildered. "N-no. He's my friend. He's–"

"He's killing you, Pete."

Peter's eyelids were fluttering closed, and Edmund gave his shoulders a gentle shake.

"Listen to me, Peter. Peter!"

Peter stared at him, brows drawn together with effort. "She told me, and I tried to tell Su. I remember now. She said Gil–"

"Cerise?"

Peter nodded, and his eyelids drifted closed again.

"Peter, you have to listen to me."

Peter's expression was a little unfocused, but he managed to keep his eyes open.

"Gilfrey's been coming in every night to give you more of his poison. You can't let him know you know yet. You can't let him know I'm here. You can't let him know you're better. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"And you can't let Susan know either."

"Not Su? But–"

"No. You mustn't. All right?"

Peter nodded fuzzily and Edmund shook him again.

"Say it."

"Can't let Gil know. Can't let Su know."

"Good. Now, Peter, this is important. The next time he comes in, you have to pretend you're still drugged. You have to let him give you the potion the same as before, but you mustn't swallow it. Wait until he's gone again and then spit it out. Do you hear me? Say it."

"Take the potion, don't swallow it."

"Good."

Edmund patted his cheek, and then, as he had before, he went to the window and scooped up a cup of snow from the ledge outside and then set it at the hearth. Once it was melted, he gave Peter a drink and set the rest at his bedside. Peter was already drifting off to sleep again, so Edmund turned back towards the hidden passageway. He froze when he heard steps from inside, and as stealthily as he could, he slipped behind the curtain at the head of Peter's bed.

In the dimness, he was just able to see the Snake glide into the room, dagger drawn, wary. He flung back the curtain where Edmund had concealed himself the night before and scowled to find nothing. Then he came to the bedside.

"He's here, isn't he? Your precious Traitor-King? He's in the castle somewhere. Don't think we won't find him."

He seized Peter's jaw, jerking Peter's face towards him. Edmund held his breath, but Peter didn't react, not even when the villain wrenched open his mouth and poured more of his poison into it. When Gilfrey released him, Peter's head merely fell back onto the pillows.

"Double the dose should counter the cursed Canicule." There was a nasty, knowing pleasure in the Snake's smile. "Or tear you apart in the trying."

Not even sparing Susan a glance, he disappeared back into the passageway.

Edmund waited as long as he dared and then rushed to his brother's side, grabbing up an empty bowl from the supper tray on the table.

"Peter–"

Peter turned to his side and spit out the mouthful of poison he had been holding. Releasing the tight air from his lungs, Edmund snatched up the pure water he had brought earlier and gave Peter some.

"Rinse out your mouth with that."

Peter obeyed and then looked up at Edmund, lips trembling as he scrubbed them with his sleeve. As gently as he was able, Edmund settled him back against the pillows, kneeling again by the bed.

"You're all right, Peter. You did fine. Just fine."

Peter grasped his hand, still shaking and drawing shallow, ragged little breaths. Edmund stroked his hair, calming him.

"Sleep now. I'll come back."

He stood, trying to free his hand, but Peter's eyes widened and his grip was suddenly like iron. Edmund glanced towards the door that led into the corridor and then towards the curtain that covered the secret passage. Susan hadn't stirred all this while, but if Gilfrey returned . . .

He looked back at Peter, at the silent, desperate plea in his eyes, and knew he couldn't go. Not quite yet. He slid his arm under his brother's shoulders, sitting him up and then settling himself against the head of the bed as he had before. Again he leaned Peter back against him and wrapped him in his arms.

"Just until you're asleep," Edmund murmured against his hair, knowing it was dangerous to stay long.

Peter was clutching both of his hands now, but he finally relaxed, his head sinking to Edmund's shoulder. Soon his breathing slowed, and Edmund closed his eyes, too.

"Just until you're asleep."

OOOOO

Peter blinked in the morning light. How long had it been since he'd truly seen the sun? Since he'd seen anything but murky dimness or hopeless night? Since he'd seen–

This time it hadn't been a dream. It hadn't been a nightmare or a hallucination. He could still feel those arms around him, warm and strong and blessedly solid. He was still clutching those hands, hands that had always pulled him out of terror-haunted sleep. He clutched them harder, just to be sure.

"You're feeling better."

Peter turned his head, squinting until his eyes focused. Lucy was smiling down on him, her gentle arms around him, her tender hands holding his.

"Edmund." He stared at her, searching her face. "He was here."

Lucy cuddled him closer to herself, pressing her cheek to his hair. "Shh."

Again he squeezed her hands. "Was I dreaming?"

He had dreamed. For what seemed an eternity now, vivid, terrible, pitiless dreams, nightmares of Edmund and torture and death. But this had been different. Once Gil had gone away, this had been peace and comfort and mercy. This had been real. It had to have been real.

Again he searched Lucy's eyes. "Was he–"

She merely smiled indulgently, humoring the sick man no doubt. Perhaps it had only been–

"He was," Peter insisted. "He was here."

He tried to push her away, but she only held him more tightly and made soothing shushing sounds.

"You mustn't say anything, Peter."

He tried again to struggle away from her, feeling the weak tears spring into his eyes, but even delicate little Lucy was too strong for him now.

"He was here. Where is he?"

"Shh, you mustn't say anything. No one can know he's here yet. Not even Susan."

"But Susan–"

"She's gone to see about breakfast. She'll be back any time now. Peter, she mustn't know about Edmund. She mustn't know you're awake. I know it will be hard, but can you pretend to be asleep as long as she's in here? As long as anyone's in here besides me?"

He nodded. "But Edmund–"

"He'll be in to see you when he can." She took his cup from the bedside table and held it to his lips. "This has more of the cure in it. Drink it down."

He did so willingly. A little frisson of heat and pain ran through him, but it quickly passed and his thoughts seemed to clear a little more

"But he's here? Truly?"

Eyes sparkling, she nodded.

"I didn't– I didn't kill him?"

"Oh, Peter, no." She kissed his forehead three or four times in succession. "No, of course not. He's fine. He's all right."

He shifted a little in the bed and felt something hard and heavy next to him. With a questioning glance at Lucy, he put his hand on the bundle and then realized what it was.

"Edmund's sword."

She pressed him closer. "You wouldn't let anyone take it away. Even when you were delirious, you wanted it by you."

He ducked his head against her, squeezing his eyes shut. "Oh, Lu, what did I do to him? How he must hate me now."

"Of course he doesn't hate you. He knows it wasn't your fault."

"The things I accused him of–"

"He loves you," she crooned softly, rocking him against her. "He never stopped loving you, not for a minute."

He clung to her for a long while, his tears darkening the soft pink velvet of her dress as she stroked his hair.

"It's going to be all right, Peter. Aslan hasn't forgotten us. He sent Edmund home to put everything right again."

"Aslan," he breathed. The Kings belong to Him. It had been real. Even if he could barely remember it, the litany and Edmund saying it with him had been real. "Oh, Aslan."

Lucy shushed him again. "Susan's going to be back soon. Remember, you mustn't be awake when she's here."

"But Edmund. He's coming back? He's–"

He broke off, closing his eyes and letting himself go limp as the chamber door opened.

"Lucy?"

That was Susan's voice. He could hear the rattle of china as she came closer and set down the tray.

"Did I hear Peter say something?"

"He talks in his sleep sometimes," Lucy said, her voice suddenly taking on a vapid, dreamy quality. "Did you bring us toast?"

Peter felt Susan's hand on his forehead and then caressing his cheek, and then he heard her disappointed sigh.

"I was hoping he was awake at last."

She sounded so very tired. He wanted to open his eyes and comfort her, reassure her that he was truly getting better, but he remembered Lucy's warning and Edmund's. He wasn't quite sure why yet, but he knew Susan had to be kept in the dark a bit longer.

"Has His Majesty shown signs of waking, My Queen?"

Peter had to force himself not to tense at the sound of that voice. Gil. His friend. His would-be murderer. He had hardly believed it when Edmund told him what the Knight had been up to, but after last night there was no doubt in his mind. He was the Snake that had crushed Edmund in his dream. He, not Edmund, was the Adder.

"I'm afraid not," Susan told him. "He was only talking in his sleep."

"I am sorry to hear it. I have long hoped to see some change in our High King's condition."

Peter felt Lucy's hold on him tighten almost imperceptibly. They both knew the kind of change the Knight was hoping for.

"But you must pardon my brevity, dear ladies. My ship stays only my farewells to my honored Queens."

"Must you go to Galma after all?" Susan asked.

"Indeed, My Queen, but I should return by tomorrow evening. You are well guarded here, are you not?"

"Yes." Susan put an extra note of cheerfulness in her voice. "I'm sure we'll be fine. Just don't be long. I don't know how I'd manage without you."

Peter forced his breathing to stay slow and even, forced his eyes to stay closed, waiting until the Knight finished his fawning farewells and left the room. No wonder Edmund and Lucy didn't want Susan to know he was awake yet. The Snake had her hypnotized, may Aslan help them all.

OOOOO

Edmund crept into Peter's room once the deep night had come again. He wasn't certain about the legitimacy of this mission that had taken Gilfrey away from Cair Paravel for a time, but Lucy had stayed up on the highest tower of the castle, watching until the Snake had boarded his ship and then waiting until the ship had set out. She had set a pair of loyal Sparrows to check for any sign of his return, but there was no word from them. Edmund was wary all the same, but he wanted to, needed to, watch over his brother. He couldn't let anything happen to Peter now.

As he had on the first night, Edmund went to Susan first, whispering her name, finding her insensibly asleep once more. Obviously, the false Knight had arranged for her to still be drugged and helpless even when he was away. Aslan helping him, he'd free her from the Snake's foul grasp before long.

Peter was sleeping, too, still looking worn and weary, but the aura of death no longer clung to him, and there was the slightest tinge of color in his cheeks. Edmund uncorked the flask and carefully lifted Peter's head to give him more of the precious Canicule juice, but he started awake, instinctively pushing Edmund away.

"It's all right, Peter. Shh, it's only me. It's only me."

"Ed." Peter took the juice obediently, his eyes fixed on his brother. "You came back."

"I always come back. Did you think you could get rid of me that easily?"

Peter was still drowsy-eyed, but on his slack face there was a glimmer of his brilliant smile. The smile faded as he took hold of Edmund's sleeve.

"Eddie, I'm so sorry. Everything–"

His voice broke, and Edmund smoothed his hair, shushing him, blinking back his own tears. "Go back to sleep now. When you're feeling better, we can talk about what a fool you've been."

He smirked when he said it, and Peter laughed wetly. Then with a deep sob, he brought the back of Edmund's hand to his lips.

"I'm so very sorry."

Edmund sat on the edge of the bed, holding him close, soothing him back into sleep, watching him breathe and thanking Aslan for every breath. Peter was still kitten-weak and perhaps not out of danger yet, but he was alive. He was alive.

At last, knowing the juice was likely to make Peter sleep long and deeply, Edmund slipped his hand free and went to the window. The kingdom, his kingdom, was quiet and still under the clear starlight, everything softened with snow. A fond smile touched his lips. This wasn't the Witch's winter, the harsh winter that had bound Narnia for a hundred years. This was Aslan's winter, a winter that fell naturally after rich autumn and brought rest to the land, a winter that eventually brought Christmas and then spring. It was a winter that belonged here as he and his brother and sisters belonged here. Narnia was theirs, by gift of the Lion, and if it cost him his life, he wasn't about to see her taken by a scheming, murderous Snake.

Clutching the heavy curtain, he closed his eyes and bowed his head. "Oh, Aslan, help me know what to do now. Watch over Peter and Susan and Lucy. Hold us all between your paws. Please, Aslan, protect us from–"

Edmund gasped as he felt a cold blade at his throat.

"Evidently your Lion is deaf as well as helpless, Edmund Pevensie."

He knew the voice, though he dared not turn.

It was Gilfrey.

Author's Note: OldFashionedGirl95 and Laura Andrews have, as always, been most helpful in making sure this stuff makes some kind of sense. Thank you both!

–WD

P. S. Special birthday wishes on June 8th to UnderTheWeepingWillow and to my extra-special beta, OFG95. I hope your birthday is JUST MAGNIFICENT! :D