Here we have some brotherly fluff at last! And a very motherly Susan! There will be one more chapter after this since this one offers explanations etc, but doesn't quite resolve everything.
"Edmund, I know you're awake." Edmund sighed in resignation and opened his eyes. He had slept most of the three days immediately following his return to Cair Paravel; waking only when Susan deemed it necessary that he eat. When the initial joy and relief of his rescue had faded somewhat he found that he used his continued weariness more as an excuse to avoid his older brother than because it necessitated sleep. Truth be told he had scarcely slept after those three days, plagued as he was by nightmares of a blood soaked and very dead Peter chasing him through the halls. So, it came as no surprise to Edmund that, after two days of being avoided, Peter had finally reached his breaking point.
Edmund forced a smile when he saw his older brother glaring at him with his arms crossed angrily. "Need something?" Peter was quite obviously neither fooled nor appeased.
"I need you to stop behaving like a child. Really Edmund, pretending to be asleep to avoid me? Are you a king or a schoolboy?" The words stung but held no real anger and Edmund knew whatever frustration Peter currently felt toward him was well deserved.
Edmund sighed again and sat up, somewhat dizzily; he wasn't about to have the approaching conversation with Peter towering over him like a storm cloud. "I know we need to talk; I just don't know where to start."
"You can start by offering a better explanation of what happened. We found the book you mentioned; it seems the Creon mentioned in it is the same one who helped me wake up, though what kind of sense that makes I can't begin to understand. I'm assuming the 'mistress' those two guards were talking about was actually the vines, but what I really don't understand is why they-she? wouldn't let you go until, well until…"
"Until I was dead?" Edmund asked quietly.
Peter looked at him sharply, his forehead creased with some strange mix of fear and wonder. "Were you dead?"
Edmund shrugged; strangely the thought of being dead had troubled him least of his experiences. "I suppose that depends how you define death."
"You stopped breathing." The matter of fact statement betrayed no emotion but Edmund could very well picture what Peter's reaction must have been.
"Then yes, I suppose I was. That isn't what you really want to know though, is it?" If Peter was going to force him to have this conversation they might as well get on with it.
"No, it isn't. The book said that for the vines to release you had to conquer your fears or some such rot; why did that mean you had to die?"
And there it was; the question he dreaded most. "I spoke with Aslan, while I was dreaming. He told me where to find the book, how to read it, and he warned me that there are three people I fear more than any others. The Witch-"
"Yourself," Peter interrupted quietly "And by conquer, the book meant kill, didn't it? So, when we found you bleeding to death-"
Edmund saw from Peter's expression where the sentence was going and thought it best to stop Peter before he could say it. "No, it's not what you think Peter. I was fighting the Witch in my dream, vision; what do you call it when a murderous plant traps you with your worst nightmares?" The attempt at humour seemed lost on Peter and his strained expression did not ease. Edmund sighed and went on, "Anyway, I was fighting the Witch and I killed her, but not before she got her blow in as well." Never mind that I let her stab me.
"But you let her, didn't you?" Peter knew him too well, far too well, Edmund reflected with annoyance.
"It was a gamble, but it paid off. I'm here, aren't I? Besides, I thought letting her kill me was better than slitting my own throat."
"Infinitely," Peter agreed darkly. "It was still a foolhardy thing to do; you could have died."
"That was rather the point, wasn't it?"
That silenced Peter for a long moment; when at last he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. "And the third? You said there were three people you feared."
"You," Edmund admitted reluctantly, knowing he had no hope of avoiding the question.
Peter flinched as if he had been struck and the look of shock and hurt on his face was almost worse than the memory of him dead. "Me? Ed, why?" He seemed dangerously close to tears.
Edmund looked down, unable to meet his brother's eyes. "It's more that I'm afraid you won't think I'm good enough; that you'll think I've failed you. I'm never quite sure how I can live up to your example. I mean, you're the High King, you're the one everyone trusts to protect Narnia, and I'm the traitor Aslan made king. I'm always afraid you won't trust me, and, why should you?"
"But I do trust you."
"I know, but knowing doesn't always kill the fear. I killed you, Peter, I didn't mean to, at least, I don't think I did. I knew I had to, to wake up, but I didn't want to. You blamed me for Orieus dying, in the dream world I mean, and it wasn't my fault; it really wasn't. When I realised that I stood up to you and we fought; I tripped you and you hit your head on the floor." The words seemed to tumble out of him in a confused rush as he stared down at the patterned coverlet on his bed. Are those waves or mountains? Out of the corner of his eye he saw Peter nod.
"So, you finally realised you're not to blame for every tragedy that befalls Narnia."
"And then I killed my brother."
"So, you let the Witch kill you because you thought you became the version of yourself you feared most, is that about right?" Peter sounded vaguely angry and Edmund feigned a greater interest in the coverlet. Waves; they have to be.
"It worked; I'm here, aren't I? And what about your fears, brother? The vines wouldn't have let you go unless they thought-do vines think? That your fears would be better realised in the waking world."
"I was afraid of being too late." And that was really all he needed to say; that one sentence seemed to sum up the entirety of his fears. "Eddie, listen to me, and please don't try to argue."
Edmund wrinkled his nose. "I've rather outgrown that nickname, I'm not five anymore you know." But they both knew he didn't really mind.
"Hush, just listen to me. There's something Susan told me, about us being Narnia's sword and shield. I-we, both need to reconsider what that means. You need to realise your worth; without you Narnia would have been lost many times over these past years. No, I told you not to argue," he said sternly as Edmund opened his mouth to speak. "I need to realise there is only so much you can take, even if you refuse to admit it. Be Narnia's shield, and mine, if you must, but don't take needless risks. Don't be so quick to throw your own life away for mine."
Edmund nodded reluctantly. "I know; Aslan said something similar. And you, dear brother, you must stop being so afraid of failing to defend us. You've always been there whenever we have need of you most; that's enough for me."
"Will you stop avoiding me?" Peter almost sounded timid with the question.
Edmund grinned and looked up. "Will you stop hovering?"
"Never," he answered, with a matching smile.
"Then I reserve the right to avoid you whenever you are being particularly annoying."
"Fair enough. Are we friends again, then?"
"In the long years of our reign have we ever been anything else, my dear brother?" Edmund ducked unsuccessfully as Peter ruffled a hand through his hair.
"Now, get some sleep. I'll never hear the end of it if Su-" He broke off guilty, staring at the suddenly open door.
"Peter Pevensie!" He may have been a High King but his sister's voice had the power to make even Peter pale. She stood in the doorway, balancing a tray of food in one hand with the other hand firmly planted on her hip in the universal pose of an irate mother.
Peter smiled, somewhat sheepishly. "Sorry Su, I was just leaving." Edmund shot him a pleading look which Peter was careful to ignore as he darted gratefully past Susan. Sorry! He mouthed over his sister's head and fairly ran before she could further reprimand him.
Edmund gave his sister what he hoped was an innocent look; she huffed and set her tray down, though her expression softened. "So, you talked I presume?"
"Enough; is that my favourite stew?" He still wasn't about to admit how hungry he was.
"Cook seems to think you don't eat nearly enough and I happen to agree with her, but don't change the subject." She returned his glare with a sunny smile that rivaled even Lucy's.
"Yes, we talked; we both agreed to stop being idiots, Peter especially." He smiled at the annoyed look that flashed briefly across Susan's face. "Really Su, it's alright, or it will be soon enough."
"Good." She sat gracefully in the chair recently vacated by Peter and crossed her arms. "Then it's time you and I had a talk. If you ever attempt to leave Cair Paravel, while ill, injured, exhausted or otherwise indisposed, without my permission or knowledge again I will have Orieus guard your door himself until you are well. And, before you think of following our royal sister's example, I will post guards below your window. Do you have any idea how worried I was when Lucy told me you were gone? Or how guilty we both felt when Peter came back without you?"
"Su, you know I had to-"
"No, you didn't. I know you think you did, but there are others to protect Peter besides you. You could have sent a troupe of soldiers after him."
Edmund nodded, though privately he disagreed. It had to be him who went, still he did feel rather ashamed; he really hadn't thought of what Susan must have felt. "I'm sorry Susan, I was only thinking about getting to Peter; I didn't realise how worried you would be."
"Well, now that you do know I trust you will do better in future." She smiled again and kissed him on the forehead. "Now eat your stew and go to sleep."
"Susan?" She paused with her hand on the door handle and looked back. "Thank you; I don't remember mum very well, but from what I do remember you are very like her." Susan's face fairly glowed with pleasure.
"Goodnight, Ed, sweet dreams." And to Edmund's surprise no nightmares plagued him when he gratefully followed her advice.
Susan nearly collided with Peter as she closed the door to Edmund's room. "Is he okay?" Peter whispered.
Susan sighed and leant her head against his shoulder. "He will be, I think. He's Edmund, even if he isn't he'll try to be."
"And you?" Peter's question surprised her. "It must have been hell for you, Su, with both of us missing and Calormen threatening war."
"It was," she admitted tiredly. "I feel as though I haven't slept in weeks."
"Then, dear sister, perhaps you should." Peter's eyes twinkled with amusement as she yawned and stumbled away, mumbling a barely audible goodnight. When he was sure she was gone he crept back to Edmund's door and slipped inside the room, careful to be silent.
Edmund was asleep, an empty stew bowl dangerously close to falling from his hands. Peter smiled, retrieved the bowl and pulled the blankets closer around his sleeping brother. Edmund would have huffed indignantly if he had been awake, but Peter was beyond caring. He sat on the edge of the bed and smiled again as Edmund shifted unconsciously closer to him. His family was home; was safe, and, at least for now, there was peace.
Wow, I ended a chapter on a happy sentence! That happens very rarely. Anyway, thank you for all the lovely reviews, especially JustValiant1717 for your reviews of the earlier chapters, you absolutely made my day! :-)
Cheers,
A
