Bonds

Summary: A bit of bad luck leads to a prison cell, an embarrassed Edmund, and a worried Peter which leads the brothers to talk and reminiscence of other chains and cells. One-shot, Brotherly bonding.

Author's Note: I make some minor references to events that happened in my work-in-progress story "Through Shadow and Fire" (And if you're reading that story, I promise I will work on it. I haven't abandoned it; I've just been waiting for when I have a large amount of time to dedicate it. I am way too stubborn not to finish) and other events that have not been written yet, but I hope one day I will write them. Those events are not necessary to understand the story, but if you don't recognize a situation, it doesn't mean you're missed something.

Flashbacks are in italics.

Disclaimer: As usual,I do not own Narnia, Ed, Peter, or any other recognizable characters, etc. Also, I have absolutely no knowledge of England's legal drinking age, the status of law enforcement, or anything else happening in the 1940s. I tried to keep it as realistic as I think it would be, but I also claim artistic license.

Bonds

It was the worst luck, Edmund thought as he sat gazing at the dirty, dusty ground. He had simply been in the wrong place, at the wrong time, and now he was staring at the bars of a prison cell. His one phone call had been well-placed to Peter, who was on his way. Edmund hung his head, wishing he could get out without having to explain the entire situation to anyone.

It had started in a little out-of-the-way pub he frequented when he was by himself.

---

"What'll be, boy?" The man behind the counter asked.

"Just water." Edmund replied, not even turning his head to look at the bartender. The bartender gave a little chuckle and pushed a cup toward Edmund. It was a weeknight, and the place held only a few scattered visitors. A father and son stood in the corner playing pool, while a few scattered young men around Peter's age sat at various tables, drowning their sorrows in their drinks.

"Pining for a long-lost love?" The bartender asked with a bit of a smile.

"I beg your pardon?" Edmund asked, slightly put-off by the man's actions. He wasn't sure if he should laugh or be offended.

"There are only two reasons a young man around your age would visit a dusty pub such as this one alone on a weeknight and order only water. Either he's running away from something, or trying to find something. My guess is you've lost a love, and you're trying to run away from the pain. But you're not drinking anything with alcohol, so either you're underage, and you seem older than that, or you're just not that sad."

Edmund slowly sipped on the water in front of him.

"I'm running from something, I suppose." He confided.

"Bad home life? Childhood memories? Annoying sibling? Clinging girlfriend?" The bartender asked as he started dusting off mugs from behind the counter.

For the first time, Edmund turned and faced the man. "Do you always ask your customers so many questions?" He countered.

The man shrugged as he turned his back to give a refill to a clearly already drunk man. "Only the ones that seem interesting."

Edmund didn't answer, and the man seem willing to let him sit in silence for a few minutes. Edmund's eyes scanned the few fellow visitors, and he soon became lost in a sea of thoughts, allowing him to ignore what was really bothering him- his siblings. All of them.

Peter had been away for half a year, and he was finally home for a month. However, he seemed distracted and distant, as though he wanted to be able to talk to Edmund but was unable to. Susan had been pulling away without shame for the last year and had finally broken every tie with her siblings beside the most basic. Lucy had reacted badly to her sibling's behavior and Edmund didn't know how to help her. The weight suddenly had become too much to handle and he had cracked, needing an evening alone without a single one of them.

Without another word between the bartender and himself, Edmund paid for his water and left. His thoughts had been buried, he had rested. It was time to go home and try to patch everyone up, he thought to himself, with just a hint of sarcasm. Lucy was the healer. He was simply a negotiator.

Looking back, Edmund could clearly see that was when the trouble started. He should have stayed in the bar for a few more hours.

After he had walked a few blocks, he sat on the bench on the street corner, once again stalling. He started humming a Narnian lullaby under his breath. Even after all these years, it brought back vivid memories of a different time and a different life.

Suddenly, Edmund felt the presence of someone else on the bench, and he turned to his left. It was a young man, around his own age, who Edmund recognized from the pub he had just left.

"Give me…your money." The man said. It might have been a threat, except the man was so drunk it was impossible to tell. When Edmund didn't answer, the man scooted uncomfortably close to him.

Edmund moved over, trying to put some distance in-between them. "No." He replied calmly.

It was the man's next actions that surprised Edmund. The man swung at Edmund's head, who quickly ducked and jumped to his feet. Trying to walk away, the man ran after him and tackled him to the wet, slippery ground. This time, Edmund retaliated. His old memories of battles and wars returned to the surface as if he had once again put on his chainmail.

After several minutes, Edmund felt someone pulling them apart. Once he had enough breath to look around, he realized he had been assisted to his feet by a set of police officers. He hung his head- he knew where this was going.

"Been drinking, I presume?" One of the officers asked both Edmund and the other man.

"I haven't been drinking." Edmund said clearly, though without much hope. He could see this going only one way.

"Right, son. You're coming with me."

---

Edmund sat, still waiting, wondering what was taking Peter so long. It had been years since he had been in a fight, and even longer since he had to explain himself to Peter. This was not going to be a pleasant experience.

Over two lifetimes of being brothers, Edmund and Peter had developed a sense to know what the other was thinking or had been thinking without needing words. Very seldom did they give each other reasons for their actions- they just intuitively knew. Unfortunately, Edmund thought that this was going to be a bit different this time.

It wasn't like Peter wouldn't believe him. Edmund couldn't lie to Peter, and refused to do so anyway. He knew Peter would trust whatever he had to say. However, just the thought of telling Peter that he once again got into a fight was going to be embarrassing enough, even though it was the first fight in years.

After a very long wait, Edmund finally saw Peter's tall silhouette round the corner. Edmund looked up into his brother's laughing face, but saw nothing amusing in the situation himself.

As Edmund slowly took the walk of shame out of the cell, he gazed at Peter with questioning eyes, wondering when Peter was ever going to talk.

Peter clasped Edmund on the back as he slowly maneuvered him away. "So what was it this time Ed?" Peter asked, a twinkle in his eyes.

"This time? I'll have you know, this is the first time I've ever been arrested in England, and you would do well to remember that." Edmund's embarrassment soon turned into playful indignation as he and Peter entered a verbal battle of wits as they continued walking home.

"If I had to speculate," Peter said later, after Edmund had clearly won the verbal battle, "I would say you were found fighting a fight that was not your own and you were taken in for public disruption or something of that sort."

Edmund shook his head. "Not this time."

Peter smiled sadly, understanding the deeper meaning behind the words.

"I know, I know, Peter," Edmund said softly, "You could always fight your own battles."

Peter stopped walking suddenly, looking down at the bleak and cold concrete street. "I was worried." He said.

Edmund raised an eyebrow. "About…?" He questioned. Tonight, he was simply too tired to be able to follow Peter's illogical and jumpy train of thought without

"About you. When you called. I know it's silly, but after all these years, you in a prison cell reminds me of…."

Edmund gently reached out and placed his thin hand on his brother's much thicker shoulder. "It reminds you of her."

"I still have nightmares of us not getting to you in time. You always die in them, and then the entire world goes charcoal grey. I always hear Susan's grief-stricken cry and Lucy's questioning, and then I wake up."

Peter's blue eyes glistened with just a hint of sorrow that he vowed to keep inside.

"Let's walk. You'll feel reality better when we're inside at home trying to pretend we're normal." Peter let out a small chuckle as he let Edmund guide him in the right directions. They walked for several minutes in silence, both of them thinking of the might-had-been Peter had once again mentioned.

Edmund sighed, "Finally, home. I had no idea how appealing our house looks until tonight."

Peter nodded, but refused to answer. Without warning, Edmund grabbed him by the shoulder with just a hint of roughness and kept Peter from entering the house.

"I still have nightmares too, you know. Some about the white witch, but those aren't the worst. Sometimes I dream about you being tortured in the desert, and them forcing me to watch. Sometimes I dreamed about you being an accused murderer. More often I dream about you fighting Miraz, but in my dream you always lose."

Peter resigned himself to hear Edmund out, once he realized Edmund wasn't letting him go anywhere. He slowly sank down onto the front steps adjacent to the door. Edmund stealthily joined him.

"We should be past this. " Peter said weakly, turning his face away from Edmund's.

"Why? Because we're kings, caught in the reality of a bleak world? We simply paid the price that was necessary."

Peter shook his head. Leave it to Edmund to splash a cold dose of rationality on a matter as irrational as nightmares, Peter thought. Nightmares were for young boys, not once-grown kings and now young men.

"Why did you try and keep them a secret from me?" Peter asked in an attempt to get his mind off his current shame. He tried to hide it, but his eyes hinted at the slight hurt. Edmund knew Peter was interpreting his silence as a lack of trust of Peter with such a haunting secret.

Edmund gave a small smile. "I wasn't trying to keep them a secret. . . I knew you knew. You always do. I saw no reason to tell you."

Peter finally turned back to Edmund, his curiosity engaged. "How did you know I knew?"

Edmund's smile now turned much more genuine. "Because it's you. If you hadn't told me about your nightmares before, don't you think I would have known anyway?"

Peter's mind raced over Edmund's questioned. Words between them were often unnecessary over the trivial matters, and his nightmares bothered him deeply. Edmund would have noticed a change in his demeanor instantly.

"Of course you would have." Peter said, shaking his head at Edmund's infallible logic.

"I'm sorry I've hurt you." Edmund remarked softly, the anguish clear in his voice and he titled his head enough to have it lean on Peter's shoulder. It was a gesture that they often repeated when one of them was hurt or upset. It was a comforting ritual, Peter thought absent-mindedly, a tradition that had started the night of their coronation in Narnia.

"I'm sorry for all the times I've hurt you as well. . . all the times I made you worry. I am the older brother- it was supposed to be your job to make me worry all the time, not the other way around."

Edmund snorted. "I'm sure I did enough of that to reach the required younger brother quota."

Peter titled his head slightly, as if he was truly considering Edmund's comment. "Probably." He said teasingly.

Edmund managed to reach a playful swat on Peter's arm despite his head still being attached to Peter's shoulder.

Peter leaned his head back, leaning up to take in the rather cloudy and murky sky, albeit one that had a few brilliant stars shining through. "So how did you end up in that cell?" He asked, realizing his brother had never given him an actual answer.

"Which one?" Edmund asked murkily through only half-opened eyes.

"I hope you're not planning on falling asleep on my shoulder, because I fully expect to get some sleep tonight and go inside eventually." Peter commented, and then went on. "And I meant the prison cell you ended up in tonight."

Edmund sighed and opened his eyes completely. "If you insist on knowing, then I shall share. I was in that out-of-the-way little pub three blocks from the jail you came and bailed me out of-"

"Why were you there?" Peter asked in a confused voice.

Edmund rolled his eyes. "Do you want to know or not?"

"Fine, continue. I won't interrupt."

"I was getting away for a while. When I got up to leave, apparently one of the other customers followed me out of the bar. When I sat down on a bench to catch my breath and take my time, he came up to me and demanded my money. When I refused to give it to him, he initiated a fight. The police came, declared us both drunk, and took us both to the lovely facility that you rescued me from."

Peter gave an unrestrained laugh, causing Edmund to once again roll his eyes. "King Edmund the Just, taken in for causing a public disturbance because he was drunk. What would the Narnians say to that, Ed?"

Edmund sat up and shook his head, unable to hide the slight smile that swept over his face. "I wasn't drunk, and I think they would have been much more helpful than you."

Peter's smile slowly faded as he glanced over his younger brother. "You've seen too many prisons, Ed. They continue to haunt you."

"You as well," Edmund countered, the soft look never leaving his eyes.

Peter slowly stood to his feet and gave his brother a hand up as well. "Well, you can stay out here if you want, but I am going to bed. It's been a long day as I was called down to rescue my brother from a jail cell."

"And I have had a long day as I had to soften my older brother's fears about me." Edmund called over his shoulders as he entered the dark, warm house. Peter followed him inside and then branched off to his own room.

Edmund reached his room and entered a battle with his shoes, which were very unwilling to be taken off. Exhausted, he flopped rather ungracefully on top of his bed, not bothering to change or even pull up a blanket.

"Well that was a rather amusing picture." A voice from the doorway commented with more than a hint of amusement evident in his voice.

Edmund sat up on the bed, already half-asleep and his mind muddled. "Peter? What are you doing here?" He asked, as Peter had already gone about arranging a pile of blankets and pillows on the floor of Edmund's room.

"Protecting you from the nightmares, of course." The words were stated matter-of-factly.

Edmund grinned as he stood up from his bed and starting helping Peter arrange the assortment of bedding.

"Protecting me, or yourself?" Edmund asked mischievously over a rather thick and difficult blanket.

Peter shrugged. "Does it matter?"

Much to Peter's surprise, when they were done creating several layers of bedding, Edmund promptly crawled under the blankets on the floor, rolled over and clenched his fist under the pillow.

"Ed?"

"You take the bed. I'm fine right here." Edmund's replied came back blurrily.

Peter didn't comment, but walked to the doorway and turned off the light. However, it was Edmund's turned to be surprised when Peter joined him on the floor.

"Peter?"

"Just go to sleep, Ed. I'm fine right here." Peter replied, smiling the entire time. He couldn't see Edmund, but could still perceive his response - a single smile.

-----

The sun had been shining a brilliant light through the windows for a while. The Pevensies were downstairs, ready to enjoy a large breakfast together except for the fact two members of the family were still missing.

Lucy had been sent to wake the two brothers up, but had been surprised when Peter wasn't in his own room. She had walked down the hall and slowly creaked open the wooden door to Edmund's room.

She laughed out loud when she saw the disaster on the floor. Peter and Edmund were both there, amid a sea of blankets and pillows that one would expect to find in a ten-year-old girl's room. Throughout the night, the two had somehow managed to wrap themselves into a shape resembling a butterfly's cocoon, limbs sprawled everywhere.

Lucy paused in the doorway, hesitant to wake the pair. The sight brought back memories, some of which Lucy cherished and some of which she wished never happened.

Throughout their reign in Narnia, Peter and Edmund had suffered much pain together. Often, after one of their adventures had gone horribly wrong, Lucy would find them like this, holding on to each other, each of them afraid to lose a brother and a best friend.

Lucy knocked on the door's wooden frame. Her actions garnered a muffled "go away" from Edmund, who had his face buried in a pillow, but Peter slowly sat up and blinked, his eyes adjusting to the stream of light entering from the window.

"What is it, Lu?" He asked.

"You've been sleeping all morning. Wake Ed up, come on, you don't want to release Mum's anger by being late to breakfast…again." She replied, not without a twinkle in her eye.

Peter nodded. "We'll be right down."

Satisfied that she had done her job, Lucy retreated back to the kitchen. Peter turned to Edmund, who he tried unsuccessfully several times to wake up. After the seventh time, he finally succeeded.

"What is it?" Edmund growled, clearly displeased with being woken.

"You've overslept, and now we're late for breakfast."

Edmund's eyes grew wide as he hastily threw aside the blankets and searched for his shoes. "I would rather face the sea serpent again than be late to breakfast."

Peter laughed at Edmund's frenzy search. "We're already late, might as well take our time now."

Edmund shrugged in an agreement. As the pair walked out of Edmund's room, Edmund once again grabbed Peter by the arm, stopping him from leaving. Peter gave Edmund a questioning glance.

Edmund's eyes shone as he held Peter's gaze. It was a thank-you and an apology all rolled into one, as well as several other emotions. "I-" Edmund started, but stopped as he saw Peter shake his head.

"I know." Peter replied quietly. Edmund smiled softly. Wanting to lighten the mood, Peter started walking quickly to the kitchen, throwing a devilish grin over his shoulder. "Bet I can beat you!" He exclaimed. Edmund's smile turned into a grin. "Not fair!" he exclaimed as he joined Peter in a race to the kitchen table.