A/n: Hey everyone!
I'm still blown away by all the positive feedback for this story. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
This chapter is Edmund's point of view. I hope you all like it. Once again, anything in bold is Valiant's and all grammatical mistakes are my own.
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Saltonwounds:Thank you for your kind words. I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations.
Chickencomes1st: Your reviews are something special to me! Thank you for taking the time to tell me what you think.
I'm glad you are going to check out Val's fic because it truly is amazing. God has blessed her with the talent to draw out such emotion. My heartstrings are pulled each time I read something by her.
You are so right. Everything God has created is amazing. God bless you!
YAMSANDWICH: Some of them are. I have another chapter for this story planned out (Lucy's POV), but I still have to write them. I also am writing another story that was inspired by JustValiant's fic King & Lionheart, which is where the inspiration for this story came from. That one's a few chapters long and I should be posting the first chapter soon. The rest of the projects are LOTR (my other main fandom) related.
Iori Blue: Whew! Glad you think so. I was trying to channel her attitude in Prince Caspian and The Last Battle there. Susan's story always made me sad whenever I read the Narnia books.
Oh, yes! Please do give King & Lionheart a try. I promise you won't be disappointed.
I hope you like this next chapter. Thank you for all your kind words.
Disclaimer: *Checks mail* Well, I still haven't gotten the letter telling me that I own Narnia… So, nothing in this fic is mine. I'm simply borrowing the awesomeness of Lewis and JustValiant.
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"Peter Leonidas."
My entire world crumbles with those two words. For 5 years, I have stood – separated from him while the Reaping occurs – terrified that I would lose him. For 5 years, I have breathed sighs of relief as someone else was chosen, even as my heart broke for the families left behind. For 5 years, I have crashed into his arms as soon as we are allowed back together and not let him go until long after we got home.
But now, that is no longer possible. 5 years of safety, and now, just when he would have been safe, Peter's name just had to be drawn. I press my lips together. I won't let this happen. My grip tightens on Lucy's shoulders.
"Stay here." I whisper in her ear. "Keep an eye on Peter. Please. I'll watch out for Susan. She'll come back to you if I can help it. I swear it."
She turns to stare at me, eyes wide. I ignore her, turning my face towards the stage. Peter has just reached the bottom step – I am almost too late.
"I volunteer!" I cry. My voice shakes and only those closest to me turn and look. Peter's almost taken that last step onto the stage– the step that will keep me from being able to protect him, that will keep him from staying here. Where he belongs.
I hurl myself forward, pushing people aside in my desperate attempt to reach him. "I volunteer!" Please. Don't let me be too late. Let me save him. I pray.
I finally push my way out of the crowd of 14-year-olds. The stage is 10 feet in front of me. Peter turns from it, striding quickly towards me. Before I can say anything, he grabs me by the collar and shakes me.
"I'm going to kill you." He snarls in my ear. "You bloody idiot! Why! I could kill you right now!"
I stare up at him, eyes wide. He hasn't spoken to me in almost a year. Not since I took the tesserae last fall when he got influenza. I don't know what to expect anymore – and that scares me. My brother has become a stranger, and now that he's holding me, snarling at me, I can't help but shrink back a little.
Then, I look into his eyes. Peter and I have always been able to read each other. Despite the front we can put up for other people; with each other, we have never had the ability to be anything but honest. Our souls won't let us be anything else; we are two halves of one whole, "two peas in a pod" as my mum says. Sure, we can be mad at each other – use our words to wound each other – but the true emotions always shine out, usually in our eyes.
Right now, Peter's words scream anger and rage. But Peter's eyes – my heart breaks as I gaze into them. Peter's eyes are filled with terror and sorrow.
I can feel his grip tighten on my collar, but before he can say anything else, Susan steps forward.
"Let go of him." She murmurs in his ear, tugging on his shirt. "Peter, let go of your brother. You can't hurt a tribute before the Games. They'll punish you."
Tribute. The word sears its way across my mind – burning its presence into my soul. I don't allow the pain to overwhelm me. I can't, because the truth of Susan's statement has swept over Peter. His face has paled two shades lighter, and he turns a haunted gaze to meet my own.
Regret layered with shame shines in his sky-blue eyes. I hate it; hate the fact that Peter's feeling like that. His treatment over the past year has hurt, but I can understand it. Had our positions been reversed, I probably would have done the same thing. I don't want him feeling like this is his fault – that he drove me to taking his place. He needs to know that I'm doing it because I love him, and that nothing he has ever done, or ever will do, can change that.
I know we don't have very long. If we don't part soon, we will be pulled apart. The Capitol does not like to be kept waiting.
"It's all right, Peter." I whisper. I reach my hand up to cup his cheek. A single tear slips down his face, but I wipe it away with my thumb. "It's my turn to protect you now." I grin, but I can feel it shaking around the edges. Tears pool in my eyes, and I struggle to keep them from falling.
Without a word, Peter pulls me to his chest. I am crushed by his arms, and I feel his head come down to rest on mine. I breathe deeply, memorizing what it feels like to be surrounded by his arms. Before I know it, the tears I had been struggling to contain are slipping from my eyes.
"I love you, Ed." Peter whispers in my ear. "More than anything else in the world. Never forget that. I'm sorry for how I've treated you this past year."
I pull myself closer to him. "It's all right. I forgive you." I feel him relax a bit underneath me. "I love you too."
Peter presses a kiss to my forehead. I want to linger, to stay as long as I can in his embrace. But I know that if I do not pull away, Peter will never let me go. So, swallowing back my tears, I squeeze him as tight as I can. Then, I let go and slip from his arms.
My heart shatters as I do so, but I do not allow it to show. Instead, I square my shoulders and lift my chin – determined to make Peter and Mum proud of me. As I settle into place on the stage next to Susan, she moves closer to me and our shoulders bump.
"District 12, I present your tributes!" Tyla's voice rings across the silent crowd.
I look out across that same crowd. Lucy has moved forward so that she stands next to Peter. Peter, despite his still anguished expression, has placed his arm across her shoulder, pulling her close, casting his protection over her as he used to do to me.
"Lion, protect them." I whisper. It is the only thing I can do. Peter's fate – and even Lucy's – is out of my hands.
"I will, Dear Heart. Courage." A warm breeze flits across my face, bringing a sweet smell that I can't describe, but somehow know. It and the voice that accompanied it fill me with courage and the knowledge that someone is looking out for both Peter and Lucy as well as Susan and me.