My deepest thanks to Lirenel, who was kind enough to grant me permission to continue her remarkable story, The Martyrdom of St Edmund, and whose advice and encouragement has been much appreciated.

I think it fair to warn you - I have no prior experience with religion of any kind. Everything I know - what little that is, anyway - has been picked up over the years from various friends and family members. So, I hope that I haven't offended anyone with my naiveté.

That said, to better understand my story, go check out Lirenel's The Martyrdom of St Edmund, from which I borrowed heavily to be able to write this. Happy reading!

Peter shook his head at his classmates' educational reticence before sinking down into his seat. His hands trembled slightly as he now allowed himself to release the emotion that had threatened to overwhelm him as he had relived the story in his mind. Peter decided then that he needed to find his brother after class. After all, Edmund always knew how best to help and support the High King . . .

~ The conclusion to Lirenel's 'The Martyrdom of St Edmund'

As the bell rang, dismissing students from class, Peter rose slowly from his seat, hands still trembling from the after-effects of recounting one of Edmund's most frightening near-death experiences. He left, roaming the hallways in search of his younger brother.

When Peter found him, amidst the horde of students surging towards the lunch room, he abruptly grabbed a hold of the Just King's wrist, yanking him into a deserted classroom and locking the door shut behind them.

"Pete, what is it?" asked Edmund in alarm, coming to stand before his older brother and king, and placing his hands on Peter's broad shoulders.

Peter was shaking, finally letting his mental anguish show.

"Alright, Pete – take slow, deep breaths," Edmund coached him, having gone through several of Peter's panic attacks before, which only ever occurred after Edmund had done something particularly reckless – usually to save Peter's hide.

Peter followed his brother's advice, and both noticed an immediate change.

Daring to make eye contact, Peter looked Edmund square in the face and smiled.

"I'm alright, Ed," he said reassuringly.

Edmund scrutinized him closely before deciding that he was telling the truth. Nodding once, he spoke, "Now, care to enlighten me as to what could have affected you so profoundly? You act as though you saw me die right before your eyes!"

"Good guess, brother," Peter murmured.

"Oh, sweet Aslan," Edmund's hands flew to his face as he gave a strangled cry reminiscent of a wounded animal. "What happened?"

Peter took a steadying breath before speaking, "Our assignment was to rewrite an old tale. I was given the martyrdom of St. Edmund."

"Lion's Mane, Peter!" Edmund protested, knowing full well the significance of that particular story.

"I read it in front of the class today, and was forced to relive your ordeal, scene by scene."

"Oh, Pete," sobbed Edmund, moving to embrace his brother—and king, for all intents and purposes.

The two boy kings held each other, providing the necessary comfort as only their other half could.

"Ed—" Peter finally managed to gasp. "When? When will these visions – these recollections – cease? I'm not strong enough, Ed, I'm not. I can't watch you die again; I can't watch you risk your life to save mine – I just can't!"

"Shh, Pete, I know, I know," Edmund whispered softly into his brother's ear. "I suppose it will get easier with time. Until then, we must trust in Aslan. Perhaps He is reminding us to value life, for those we love may not always be with us."

Peter sniffed quietly and attempted to regulate his breathing so as to not hyperventilate.

"I swear to you, Peter, my High King and brother, nothing – not even death – will ever separate us, for I will live on inside of you, and you will carry my memory with you – always – just as I would for you."

Peter cupped Edmund's face in his hands, bringing their foreheads to rest against each other as he took a shaky, steadying breath.

"Will you take off your shirt for me, please?" he asked quietly.

"What? Pete, no!" Edmund exclaimed.

"Edmund, take off your shirt—I want to see the damage!" Peter commanded.

Edmund was left with no choice but to obey. Slowly, he removed the blazer and tie that was part of the school uniform. Meeting Peter's stoic gaze, as though asking whether he'd changed his mind, Edmund reluctantly unbuttoned his shirt before also discarding it.

Why does he do this to himself? Edmund thought in annoyance. It'll only make him feel worse.

And indeed, Peter was mentally berating himself for having let Edmund leave his sight for even an instant on that fateful day.

Edmund's torso – back, chest, and abdomen – was littered with scars. Some were thin, almost vine-like. Others were thick and ropey. Several encircled his entire body. In addition, there were pinpricks everywhere – from the werewolves' claws that had pierced his skin. All had faded to white, though, for it had been many years since Edmund had undergone such torture.

"Why?" Peter moaned, sinking to his knees in despair. "Dear Aslan, why? Why inflict such pain on your staunchest follower – next to Lucy – when I would gladly give my life to spare Edmund and to serve you?"

"Peter, Peter," cried Edmund, falling down beside his brother and cradling him to his chest.

"My dear children," they heard – and each gave a collective gasp as they looked up to discover Aslan, in all his glory, standing before them.

He approached and opened his mouth – not to roar, as they dreaded – but to breathe on them. Instantly, they were enveloped by an overwhelming sense of peace and tranquility.

"Peter, Son of Adam," growled Aslan, "The grief you feel at your brother's pain is admirable, and a mark of the close bond you have forged during your years together in Narnia. However, you must have faith in the knowledge that – had your brother died – his sacrifice would not have been in vain. Do you believe?"

"I-I don't know," Peter whispered, stuttering slightly. "I love him so much, Aslan, that to lose him would destroy me."

Edmund gasped. Of course, he and Peter had sworn countless fealty oaths during their time as kings, promising to protect and defend the other at the cost of their own life. But to hear Peter admit – out loud, and to Aslan, no less – that Edmund was more precious than his own life . . . it was positively moving.

"You've stated what your brother means to you – have you not, Son of Adam?" asked Aslan.

"I have, Aslan," said Peter, head still lowered in deference to Aslan, who was High King over all.

"But have you ever stopped to consider what you brother might mean to others – what he might symbolize?"

"W-what do you mean, Aslan?" asked Peter, confusedly.

"Upon first entering Narnia, your brother was tempted by Jadis, the White Witch. Yet he returned to you, and continually proved his loyalty to me, Narnia, and his family by never once putting himself above his people. What does that say to you?"

Pausing to think before responding, Peter finally spoke, carefully weighing his words, "He saw the error of his ways and sought to make amends by caring for the welfare of others – the needs of the many outweighing the needs of the one. It was that that led to his encounter with the werewolves."

"Exactly." And the two boys, despite being unable to meet the Lion's eyes, could practically hear the smile in his voice

"I see now, Aslan. Please forgive me."

"You were guided by the love you bear for your brother, Peter. There is no shame in that."

Peter bowed his head in acknowledgement of Aslan's subtle praise.

"Edmund," said Aslan, turning to the boy who, until now, had been silent.

"Yes, Aslan?" he asked, eager to please.

"Take care of your brother, dear one. He needs you – I think – more than it is possible for either of you to ever know."

"I swear to do so to the best of my abilities, Aslan," said Edmund demurely.

"I will be watching, children, always," said Aslan, looking down with pride at the two boys whose duties as kings had forced them to mature to manhood in so short a time.

When next the Pevensie brothers looked up, Aslan had vanished.

Slowly, they turned to face each other – the light of Aslan's counsel in their eyes and a fervent prayer on their lips. They fell together, holding each other as close as was possible, tears streaming down their faces at the closure that Aslan's visit had provided.

They weren't alright, not yet. The road to recovery would be long and arduous. But they were healing – slowly but surely. And they had the promise of their Maker's love to guide them.

So, this started out where Peter would merely find Edmund after class and they would have a brief talk, during which Edmund would reassure Peter that he was fine, followed by the two going their separate ways. But then Aslan got involved, and this turned into what you have now read. Hope you enjoyed!