Author's Note: Wow, I'm speechless at how well this was reviewed. Thanks everyone! ;)

Here is the second chapter. Slightly longer, I believe. Let me know what you think of it!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Edmund's thoughts fluttered away from him, aloft on silver feathered wings. And he succumbed to the surrounding darkness.

But not for long.

"EDMUND!"

A series of light slaps to his face brought the world shimmering back around him. The first thing Edmund saw was Peter, blue eyes clouded with anxiety and a burning anger conceived through fear.

"Breathe, Edmund, you bloody mule!" Peter growled through gritted teeth, rubbing his brother's chest feverishly. "Breathe!"

And Edmund gasped, a rush of air filling his lungs. He coughed and spluttered, noting the pleasant scent of the ocean and the sand mixed with the faint, almost powdery, smell he associated with Peter.

"P-Peter..." he said hoarsely.

"Edmund!" Peter gasped, pulling him into a fierce embrace. "By the Lion, Edmund."

Edmund felt as if a punch had driven the air from his lungs as he was slammed into Peter's chest, but this time he drew in another breath. A full breath.

Peter began to stroke Edmund's hair over and over again whilst beginning to rock him back and forth as he would a small child during a thunderstorm.

"What in all of Narnia were you doing?" asked Peter urgently, incredulity lacing his anxious voice as he pulled away to look down at his brother.

"I don't really know." answered Edmund truthfully.

"By Aslan, Ed, you should have stayed at the castle." said Peter, sounding choked, "Do you know what could have happened if I hadn't come looking for you?"

Edmund shrugged halfheartedly. They both knew what would have happened.

Peter shook his head and pulled him close again, "This is the third time I've almost lost you, Edmund. The third time!"

"I'm lucky, I suppose," Edmund remarked, fatigue faintly slurring his voice. "Usually third time is a charm."

Peter's obsessive stroking of his hair became fractionally more frantic.

"When are you going to learn to do as you're told?" he whispered helplessly.

Edmund shrugged again. "Probably never."

Peter didn't reply to this. Instead he hugged Edmund to him tightly, murmuring incoherent phrases into the crook of his brother's neck, his voice slightly higher pitched from worry. Edmund felt a tear from Peter trickle onto his jaw.

And suddenly Peter pulled away again, a ferocious glare on his face. The trail of a single tear on his right cheek.

"Don't you ever do that again!" he ordered firmly. "Don't even bloody think about it, or I swear, I'll kill you first."

Edmund gaped at him in soundless astonishment. For one, Peter never swore. Ever. Edmund eyed his brother suspiciously. Secondly, it wasn't like Peter to use threats, especially death threats. It wasn't his way.

Edmund wondered if Peter had adopted any of the traits he'd religiously been trying to abandon. Probably not. Perhaps this was just how he reacted under severe stress. Or maybe it was just Edmund.

He was still floundering about for something to reply to that when Peter shifted him against his chest and stood.

"I can walk, Peter." Edmund protested, at last finding his voice in the depths of his being.

Peter merely growled deep in his throat and resolutely began to walk back towards the castle. Edmund decided that, since Peter was even more stubborn than he himself was (indeed if that were possible), he was not going to be let down anytime soon. So he wrapped his arms around his brother's neck and rested his head against his shoulder.

The two were silent for a while then. The only sounds were the gentle rush of the ocean lapping at the beach and the sand shifting under Peter's feet.

Edmund's night run had taken him quite a ways from Cair Paravel. The magnificent castle looked like a large model from where they were.

Presently, Peter spoke up again.

"I'm sorry you had to find out." he said, his voice soft.

Edmund stiffened slightly, "I would have found out sometime."

"Are you alright now?"

Edmund considered for a moment. Was he alright?

"I suppose so."

Peter 'hmphed' and said bluntly, "I want a straight 'yes' or 'no', Ed. And I trust you to be truthful."

There was a long pause.

"No." Edmund sighed finally.

Peter's arms tightened around him but he didn't say anything. Edmund's dark eyes roved up to settle on his brother's face. Part of him wanted to tell Peter what he felt, but he wasn't sure he could explain it. Then again, Peter could understand him as well as he could a children's book.

Did he really want to open himself up? Did he want to reveal how terribly vulnerable he was? But he had already begun to speak before the thought had time to complete itself.

"I feel horrible," he said, closing his eyes. "my idiocy started the war. Everything leading up to and including Aslan's death is my fault. I can see him, Peter. Lying there on the stone table all cold and stiff." Edmund shuddered and his eyes snapped open.

He continued in a softer voice. "It's disgusting. I despise myself for it. And at the same time I feel safe. Comforted. I feel like a beast because it's comforting to me that Aslan willingly died in my place. Does that make me some revolting creature?"

Edmund looked up at his brother anxiously for a reply. Peter looked surprised at his openness. Edmund had never talked so freely about his emotions. Never. It was typical for him to bottle everything up inside until it burst out in a torrent of mixed emotions. Then he would inflict the results of it on everybody around him.

This was entirely new.

"It does not make you disgusting, Edmund." said Peter with quiet firmness.

He stepped up onto the gleaming marble stairs that lead into the castle.

"I'm comforted just knowing he died in your place, if that helps any. Susan is right, he knew what he was doing. You would not have come back if the Witch had killed you. He did."

Edmund pondered Peter's words with a furrowed brow as he was carried down Cair Paravel's long hallways. They were vast and open, yet they were lit by a warm glow from several wall mounted candles.

He continued to be lost in this sea of thoughts as Peter laid him on his bed and tucked the sheets in around him. But he was pulled away from them as he was spoken to.

"Now you're staying in bed for the rest of the night." said Peter, a hint of threat in his voice.

Edmund smiled tiredly up at him, "I can do that."

Peter raised his eyebrows, "Doing as we're told now, are we?"

Edmund lifted his shoulders, "Don't get your hopes up."

Peter smiled and sat at the end of the bed, resting his back against one of the four thick posts.

"Then I'll stay here to make sure that you do."

"No, Peter...you should go to..." Edmund's words halted as a yawn overtook them. "...go to bed."

Peter cast his brother a stern look, but it held no power over Edmund. Behind the firmness there was just a concerned older brother. And that was all Edmund could see.

"At least look more comfortable than that," Edmund sighed tiredly, nevertheless managing to throw Peter a slightly exasperated look. "I'll never be able to sleep with your tense bundle of bones sitting down there like a hawk."

"Bundle of bones?" Peter echoed in mild disbelief. "My dear sibling, if I am a bundle of bones then you are nothing but a handful of twigs."

Edmund spluttered.

"But if it helps you sleep, I'll rearrange myself."

Peter moved to the other side of the enormous bed and tossed himself down beside Edmund, lacing his fingers together and cradling the back of his head.

"Better?" he asked, turning brilliant blue eyes on his younger brother.

"Quite." replied Edmund with a nod. "Thanks."

He started to close his eyes, but they popped wide open on sudden recall.

"Peter?"

"Yes?"

"You need me to rule with you?" Edmund craned his neck around and eyed his brother expectantly.

Peter frowned at him, "Of course I do, Ed. We all need you. That's why there are four thrones and not three."

"But would you miss anything if I didn't?"

Peter sighed, "Yes, Edmund. We would miss a lot if you weren't here."

Edmund delicately cocked an eyebrow, so Peter elaborated.

"We each have different qualities that smooth and even out the gaps in our leadership." he explained, "If one of us were to leave, for any reason, our rule would weaken, waver, and eventually fall."

Peter propped himself up on his elbow and took a long hard look at Edmund. Edmund held the gaze calmly, waiting.

"We need you." said Peter finally. "Don't ever think any differently because it won't be true."

Edmund nodded and lay back down again, satisfied with that answer. "Thank you, Peter."

"Anytime, little brother," Peter said gently, reaching over to touch Edmund's eyelids to make them close. "Anytime."

"Goodnight, Peter."

The mattress shifted and he felt a gentle hand brush over his cheek and forehead.

"Goodnight Edmund."

Edmund smiled.