Title: Kings Parted

Fandom: Narnia (Books - so don't expect it to be like the movies.)

Pairing: Caspian/Edmund; Peter/Eustace

Summary: Edmund and Caspian are now worlds apart but life goes on. Also Peter/Eustace, coz, yep, they're all gay! Set after The Silver Chair. Part 3 of the Kings series – sequel to Kings Love.

Ages: Peter – 19-20; Edmund – 17-18; Eustace 15-16; Lucy - 16 - I had to work out the ages myself; Yes, I'm aware that these ages are older than the official timeline from CS Lewis, but I'm not gonna write slash about a 12 year old, so I've aged them from the first story (Kings Comfort) and then continued from that. I'll give the ages for each story as I write them.

Disclaimer: The character's belong to CS Lewis. The blame is mine.

Warnings: NC17

Author's Note:

So, in an attempt to be clearer about this series, here's a list of stories in the Kings universe. (Some are not yet available).

And I've now resigned myself to the sucky titles.

Main series- (Edmund's arc)

1. Kings Comfort (Peter/Caspian; Edmund)

2. Kings Love (Caspian/Edmund)

3. Kings Parted (Caspian/Edmund; Peter/Eustace)

4. Kings Battle (Caspian/Edmund; Peter/Eustace)

Companion stories set in the Kings universe- (Peter's arc)

1. Kings Prince (Peter/Prince Corin)

2. Kings Consort (Peter/Eustace)

Also as a general series note: You do need to be familiar with the books by C.S. Lewis because I've mostly written around the books rather than rewrite whole scenes from them. So, if you haven't read the whole series of books then it might be a good idea to at least google them and find out the plots.

Kings Parted - Chapter 6

The soft knock came again and Edmund closed the parchment box and got to his feet to answer it.

It was Eustace, but not the Eustace who'd seemed subdued at dinner but still relaxed and happy. This was a boy with a tight face and raw pain in his eyes, and Edmund immediately reached out and took his arm and pulled him into the room.

"What's happened?"

Eustace shook his head, obviously unable to speak, and Edmund pushed him into a chair.

"Tell me," Edmund urged.

Eustace took a deep breath and then finally spoke.

"He doesn't want me," he said, and Edmund was speechless for a confused moment.

"Peter?" he asked, and Eustace nodded. "You're wrong," Edmund continued firmly. "I know that Peter has feelings for you, Eustace."

"Maybe he does," Eustace said in a strangled voice. "But he doesn't want me."

"What are you talking…?" Edmund began, and then he fell silent, heat rushing to his face. "Oh," he said. "Um."

He cleared his throat and then he couldn't stop himself from letting out a nervous laugh, and Eustace looked at him reproachfully.

"I'm sorry," Edmund said. "You have to understand Eustace, that it's really rather awkward for me to talk about my brother's sex life."

"Well, it feels bloody awkward for me too," Eustace said, dryly. "But there's no one else for me to go to."

And that was certainly true, Edmund thought reluctantly. He sat down on the end of his bed and watched Eustace for a moment and then he took a deep breath.

"So, you've never…" he faltered, and then took another deep breath. "I mean you haven't done… anything… together?"

Eustace had been staring at him, his cheeks slowly going pinker, and Edmund could feel his own face starting to heat in sympathy, because this was truly a conversation that he'd never expected to have with Eustace. Or anyone for that matter, and he really wished it wasn't happening. But he could still see the lost look in Eustace's eyes, the slump in his shoulders that spoke of confusion and defeat, and Edmund knew that he couldn't turn Eustace away, no matter how inadequate he felt. So he waited patiently, and with some trepidation, for Eustace to answer.

"Not really," Eustace finally said softly. "Well, just after Christmas there was one afternoon, we just sort of… um… he was on top of me and we sort of… rubbed together and-."

"I understand," Edmund interrupted quickly and they both sighed in relief.

"I was very tired after," Eustace continued. "I mean I still hadn't fully recovered from the flu and so I thought maybe that was why nothing more ever happened. But now I wonder if the only reason it happened at all was because I had been ill and he was trying to give me something he thought I wanted."

Edmund frowned in confusion. "You did want it though, right?" he asked, unable to keep the worry out of his voice, because he knew exactly how horrified Peter would be if he thought that he might have pushed Eustace too far. "I mean… you enjoyed it?"

Eustace fidgeted restlessly with the hem of his sleeve and Edmund's heart sank, but then Eustace looked at him and smiled slightly.

"I didn't think I would," he said, quietly. "I mean, Harold and Alberta told me about that sort of thing when I was about thirteen and it just seemed messy and awful to me, especially when I figured out how boys would do it together. So, I have to admit I've been sort of frightened about it." He paused for a moment and wrinkled his nose. "And it was messy afterwards."

Edmund stared at Eustace, sternly suppressing his sudden, appalling desire to laugh, until he could finally speak without it showing in his voice.

"So, are you still frightened?" he asked, and Eustace frowned thoughtfully.

"A bit," he admitted. "But… when it was happening… I really liked it. And I've thought about it since. So, tonight…" he broke off, looking away from Edmund, and biting his lip.

"Tonight?" Edmund prompted softly.

"I went to his room," Eustace said, still with his head turned away, but Edmund could plainly hear the tense embarrassment in his voice. "I wanted to… but he…"

He fell silent and Edmund almost held his breath, knowing that he had to let Eustace say what he had to say in his own time.

"Well, eventually he told me I should leave," Eustace finally said. "He didn't say it, but it was fairly obvious that he doesn't want me in that way."

Edmund couldn't speak for a moment, his anger at Peter freezing his tongue, for he could see that it had taken all the courage that Eustace possessed to have gone to Peter like that, and Peter had simply thrown it all back into his face. He knew that it must be a misunderstanding, that there had to be some sort of explanation, but at that moment all he could see was Eustace's utter humiliation and distress.

"I'll talk to him," he eventually said, and Eustace finally looked at him again, his eyes wide with horror.

"No," he said. "You can't… I don't want you to do that, Edmund."

"Eustace, I'm sure it's just-"

"No," Eustace interrupted him. "Please, Edmund, this whole thing is bad enough. I only came to you because I felt like I was going to burst if I didn't talk about it and I trust you."

"Then talk about it with Peter," Edmund urged. "Tomorrow, when you've both calmed down."

Eustace was shaking his head as Edmund spoke and Edmund had to admit that he wasn't surprised. He had a feeling that Eustace had taken a big step in going to Peter the way he had, and to have been rejected in that way wasn't going to be something he would easily recover from - and Edmund wondered if Peter had yet realised the huge mistake he'd just made.

"No," Eustace said. "I just want to forget that it ever happened. That way I might be able to actually look him in the face without dying of embarrassment. Maybe…" he faltered for a moment, and then shook his head. "I think that sort of thing is just not for me, anyway, so maybe it's a good thing that this has happened now."

"Eustace, no you shouldn't think-" Edmund began, but Eustace had risen to his feet and was already heading for the door.

"No, it's fine, Edmund," he interrupted. "Don't worry about it. I'm sorry I bothered you and thank you for listening but I'd really prefer it if we just forgot about the whole thing."

Then he gave Edmund a quick, pained smile and was gone, whilst Edmund stared at the door, feeling rather horrified but also not really that surprised that Eustace's confidence had obviously been affected so deeply.

"Peter, you absolute fool," he whispered to the empty room.

It was some time before Edmund shook himself out of his thoughts and his anger at Peter. He'd almost gone against Eustace's wishes and gone to Peter's room to hear his side of the story but in the end, he'd decided he just couldn't do that to Eustace when Eustace had so plainly not wanted him to. The distress in Eustace's eyes had run deep and Edmund had no idea what would happen next between Peter and Eustace but he couldn't help thinking that perhaps time would have a positive affect. He'd watch them in the morning and hope for the best.

So, in the end, he gathered up the box of parchment and settled on his bed, and as he read he forgot all about Peter and Eustace.

You must wonder that I write to you after so many years have passed. I wonder at it myself for I had decided long ago that I had to let you go, if I was to lead the life that we chose, fully and completely.

For, in the end, Edmund it was my choice as well, I hope that somehow you know that. The long years with my Queen were full of joy and contentment, and not least because of our deep love for Narnia. In the end, you were right, Narnia had to come first.

And yet now I must tell you that I have lost both my Queen and my son. My grief for my Queen is tempered by the knowledge that she has taken her place in the skies as she once, long ago, told me she would.

As for my son, the fact that I do not know for certain that he is dead does not lessen my grief. Yes, there is hope but it has not made the year that has passed since I lost them both any easier.

Have we failed, Edmund? All that we gave up for Narnia's sake, is that all for nought?

I must tell you, even in my grief, I cannot think it so. It will not be so, and I trust that Aslan will find a way. It is all I can do.

But I have been so lonely, Edmund, and so I have finally taken a lover. I held back from it for many months, and it was not the thought of my lost Queen that held me, it was you. Would you see it as a betrayal? I do not know, but I did realise that for a long time I have avoided thinking about what your life has been without me. I have only thought of my life.

My life has been full, Edmund, as it still is, even with the misfortune that has lately befallen me, and, perhaps because of that misfortune, I now find myself hoping that your life has been full as well.

Knowing how time works in your world, I know that it is entirely possible that as I write this, it is only a week for you since you left me on the Dawn Treader. But one day as many years will have passed for you as they now have for me, and I wonder how those years will have changed you.

I must be honest, I think back to the way we were, and it is hard to imagine another touching you in that way… I don't like it and I never have, but I know that this is selfish of me.

As I write this, my lover lies sleeping in my bed, and his warmth and care comforts me as much in my grief and loneliness, as his body does. How can I not wish that you find the same comfort, when I still bear love for you?

And I do, Edmund, I do.

Perhaps it is foolish of me to believe that one day you will read these words, but I must tell you this, Edmund.

Please, live the life that we chose together fully, but… don't forget me, love.

It hurt.

Edmund wasn't sure how much time had passed when he finally rolled off the bed and went to the window. His limbs felt numb and heavy, it was a strain to move them, and it reminded him of how it sometimes felt after one had slept long, and deeply, without moving position. Except he knew that he had not been asleep for a moment.

He reached the window and rested his forehead against the cold glass. Outside it was still dark, but his window faced east and Edmund could see the faintest lightening of the sky and it felt as if the world was waiting for that moment when the sun's rim would rise above the horizon.

And it almost felt as if the hushed world was waiting for more than that, as if a crisis was coming that would change everything, and even the air around him seemed heavy with the expectation of it.

Then, suddenly, a flock of tiny brown birds flitted through the air, darting and weaving in front of Edmund's window, and he gasped when they disappeared into the trees, for even though he'd seen them clearly they hadn't seemed quite real. It had felt almost like an echo of something dim in his memory.

'Look at the sun rising in the east, Aslan's in the east,' Lucy's voice whispered in his mind and Edmund closed his eyes tightly.

And then he made his choice.

A few moments later, Edmund opened his eyes, and went back to the bed. He gathered together all the pieces of parchment scattered over the quilt, folded them neatly, and went over to the fire.

It was only embers now, so Edmund added a little coal and fanned it, and once it caught he held the parchment against the tiny flame. A few moments later the pieces were burning quickly and Edmund dropped them into the fireplace.

The box that had held the parchment still lay on the bed. He knew what was still in it, what had lain for all this time hidden under the parchment, ignored but not forgotten. He lifted it out of the box, felt the gentle weight of it in the palm of his hand, even as he traced the outline of the initial on it with the tip of one finger. Caspian's signet ring.

Edmund knew he would never wear it on his own hand but Caspian would always have a place in his heart and the ring was a reflection of that. Quickly he removed the chain that he had always worn about his neck, looped it through the ring, and replaced the chain. At first the ring was cold against his skin but it soon warmed as Edmund smoothed it under his shirt.

Then he burrowed under the quilt and fell into a deep sleep.

"Edmund, wake up, you've slept most of the day away."

Edmund opened his eyes and Lucy's face came into view, grinning down at him, and Edmund smiled.

"Hello, Lu," he said, sitting up and yawning widely as he stretched out his legs.

"Did you sleep in your clothes?" Lucy asked, her voice full of disapproving amusement.

Edmund wrinkled his nose, because now that Lucy had drawn his attention to it, he realised that it wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world to sleep in one's clothing.

"I think I'll take a bath," he said, swinging his legs out of the bed, but he was stopped by Lucy's hand on his arm.

"Are you all right?" she asked, softly.

"Yes, I am," Edmund replied with a smile. "Why?"

"I'm not sure," Lucy said thoughtfully. "I was on the train early this morning and I just… I don't know… felt something. About you."

Edmund stared at her, his brow raised. She had always been intuitive and perceptive, sometimes in the most annoying way, but this seemed a little more than that. He remembered the way the Professor had been so unsettled the night before, the way he had told Peter that something important was happening in Narnia, that perhaps Narnia needed their help, and Edmund wondered if Aslan was closer to them in this world than they had all thought.

Lucy was looking at him expectantly though, so he gave her a reassuring smile.

"I had a… bad moment," he said, his smile fading into a slight grimace, because the pain was still there, but it was bearable now, muted by the decision he'd made. "But I'll be all right now."

"About Caspian?" Lucy asked, and Edmund realised, with a start, that it was the first time she had talked about Caspian with him since they'd returned from the Dawn Treader.

Edmund met her clear gaze and nodded. "Yes," he said softly. "You know that he sent me a message?"

"Yes, I did," Lucy said. "Eustace told me. He was worried about giving it to you, about how you would react."

"Hmmm," Edmund hummed thoughtfully. "Well, it has been difficult to read the message, that is certainly true. But I've finally finished it."

"And?" Lucy asked simply.

Edmund shrugged, still not entirely sure if he was ready to tell Lucy about everything he was thinking. The words in Caspian's final letter had been agonising to read, but since that moment at dawn, for the first time Edmund felt free of what had happened in Narnia. And now, as he remembered Cedric, he wondered if that freedom had been slowly growing inside him all the time, ever since he'd first received Caspian's message. The loss was still there, painful and heart wrenching, particularly when he thought of Caspian with someone else. But as Edmund thought about Cedric it felt like he was losing something and gaining something at the same time. Even with the simple desire he'd felt when they'd kissed, Edmund still couldn't think about being with Cedric the way that he'd been with Caspian, but he did think about the open friendship he could have with him, and for the first time, the potential for more in his life was there.

And, for the first time, he could accept the fact that he was never going to see Caspian again.

"I'm going to be all right," he finally answered Lucy, his voice firm, and she beamed at him.

That night at dinner, Edmund looked around the table and wondered if these Seven Friends of Narnia dinners were always going to be strange for, yet again, the atmosphere was fraught with tension.

Edmund hadn't seen Eustace since his conversation with him the night before, but he could tell that he was still deeply affected by what had happened and was also struggling to appear as if he wasn't. Peter was closed off, his face a mask of control and Edmund felt his anger returning whenever he looked at his brother. The Professor was still thoughtful, his mind obviously distracted, and Lucy was watching Eustace with puzzled concern in her eyes. Only Jill and Aunt Polly seemed relatively unaffected as they conversed quietly on one side of the table.

Edmund was still staring at Peter, trying to think of a way to crack that calm façade, when he heard the sound of shattering glass and then a little scream that sounded like it had come from Jill. He looked around curiously, and was startled to see that Jill and Eustace were both on their feet, their bodies full of tightly wound tension.

And then he followed their line of sight and his heart stuttered. For one very brief moment he almost thought it was Caspian standing by the window, for the first thing he noticed was the blond hair and then the Narnian clothing. But this figure was not tall enough to be Caspian, and was of a slighter build, and it suddenly burst into Edmund's mind that this was probably one of Caspian's descendants.

All of this went through his mind in a matter of seconds and he was still gaping at the wavering figure that appeared to be tied to something, when he heard Peter's voice.

"Speak, if you're not a phantom or a dream. You have a Narnian look about you and we are the seven friends of Narnia."

The figure strained forward, his eyes pleading and anxious, but when he opened his mouth as if speaking, they heard nothing.

Then Peter slowly rose to his feet, turning to face their strange visitor fully.

"Shadow or spirit or whatever you are," he said. "If you are from Narnia, I charge you in the name of Aslan, speak to me. I am Peter the High King."

Edmund saw the figure's eyes widen, as if stunned, and then he tried to speak again, but already he seemed to be growing fainter.

"Look! It's fading," Eustace said, but even as he finished speaking the vision had completely disappeared.

"He's gone," Edmund heard Lucy whisper, almost as if to herself.

Peter, who was still standing, turned to look silently at the Professor.

"Narnia has called for our aid, Sire," the Professor said, with an intent look, and Peter finally nodded.

"Yes," he said. "And we must answer."

"It would have to be raining," Edmund said, yawning and looking up at the grey, early morning sky resentfully.

It had been a long night. It hadn't taken them too long to decide what to do – Edmund and Peter would go to London and search for the rings, whilst Aunt Polly would arrange for Jill and Eustace to stay away from school for one more day so that they could all meet on the train to hand over the rings – but the rest of the night Edmund had spent half-dozing in Peter's car during the long drive to London. Now, here he was, dressed in a pair of Peter's too-large overalls, getting soaked in the misty rain, and floundering in the mud as they dug hole after hole, searching for the rings. It was all most unpleasant.

"Stop whinging and keep digging," Peter said in a tired voice and Edmund felt a little guilty for Peter had driven for hours to get them there.

He squelched over to a new spot in the large backyard they were in and started digging and after a few minutes his shovel hit something hard.

"Peter," Edmund called, his excitement rising.

Peter came over and they scrabbled in the mud for a moment, finally pulling out a weathered box, wrapped in mouldering oilcloth. They both held their breath as Peter slowly opened the box and then both released it in a heavy sigh of relief when they saw the yellow and green rings, neatly ordered in the box, and gleaming as if they had just been finely polished.

"Well, that's it then," Peter said, frowning as he looked around at the devastation they had wrought in a complete stranger's backyard. "Normally I'd say that we should fix all this but…" he trailed off and Edmund, not giving him any more time to think, took his arm and pulled him over to the fence they had climbed over earlier.

"Hopefully they'll just think it's some sort of giant mole infestation," he said, pushing Peter over the fence. "Do you think we have time for breakfast?"

"I feel much better," Edmund said, as he climbed into Peter's car after a quick but satisfying breakfast of coffee and eggs at a dingy café.

"I do too," Peter replied, starting the car and pulling out onto the road. "Now we just have to get to the station to meet the train they're all on and we'll be done."

Edmund watched his brother thoughtfully for a moment. He was no longer angry with Peter, for he could see that Peter wasn't his usual self, but he also wanted to know what was going on in Peter's mind.

"So, do you wish you could use the rings yourself? Do you wish you could go to Narnia with Eustace?"

Immediately Peter seemed to stiffen in his seat with wary tension and Edmund wondered if he would answer. A few moments passed, in which Edmund realised that he was probably dancing on the line of breaking his promise to Eustace, but he couldn't help it. Peter was still too composed and Edmund couldn't help remembering the pain he'd seen in Eustace's eyes the evening before, and wondering if Peter actually felt anything about that.

"I don't want to talk about Eustace," Peter said firmly.

"Fine," Edmund said shortly, his anger stirring. "But I have to say that I would never have encouraged you to be with him, if I'd known that you would hurt him like this."

Peter was silent for a moment and then he spoke, impatience heavy in his voice. "Look, Edmund, I'll talk to Eustace, and he'll get over it."

"What the hell?" Edmund exclaimed. "This isn't so easily fixed Peter. Eustace is deeply hurt, I think more than you realise, and you sound so… callous. Do you actually care for him at all?"

"Of course I do," Peter snapped. "That's why I couldn't take advantage of him."

"You've really messed up here, Peter," Edmund said, no longer able to keep his anger hidden. "He went to you. It's not taking advantage when he wanted it as much as you do, and now you've rejected him again and-"

"It is taking advantage," Peter interrupted in a loud voice, "when I'm going to leave in a couple of months, Edmund."

"What?" Edmund gasped, staring at his brother blankly.

Peter returned his look for a moment, his eyes almost apologetic, and then he looked back to the road.

"I only found out last week," he said, quietly. "You know I finish my degree this year and I've been applying for positions for a while. Well, I also applied for a couple of things overseas – in France, in particular, there's a lot of rebuilding work and they desperately need engineers. I didn't really think I'd get the job I applied for but I did, Edmund, and I can't pass it up."

"I see," Edmund murmured.

"I am sorry this happened," Peter continued. "And I was trying to explain it to Eustace but everything got confused. I will talk to him again, but you know that we have to deal with this Narnian problem first."

"Yes," Edmund agreed quietly. He wasn't sure why he was so taken aback by Peter's news, he had, after all, known that Peter was working towards a future in this world, and he, himself, had recently made the decision to do the same and accept that this world was where he had to live his life. But after losing Susan, this felt like another loss, as if they were all slowly moving away from each other, and from Narnia.

"I am sorry about what has happened, Edmund," Peter said, after a moment of tense silence. "I shouldn't have gone into this with Eustace. It was against my better judgement."

"Are you saying that I pushed you into it?" Edmund asked, his heart sinking.

"No," Peter said quickly, looking at him with a shocked expression. "No, Edmund, this whole thing is my fault. I… I lost my head… and did something I shouldn't have done. It's nothing to do with you."

But even though he could hear the regret in Peter's voice, Edmund wasn't yet ready to give up.

"You say you lost your head," he said, looking at Peter curiously. "But, surely that's because you really want and care for Eustace. If we weren't here, if we were in Narnia, would you choose him, Peter? Would you be with him?"

He heard Peter's soft sigh, and saw the frown on his face.

"I'm not going to answer that question," he finally said, and then they both lapsed into silence.

It was still raining and rather cold when they finally reached the station with five minutes to spare, and Edmund shivered uncomfortably as they waited.

Peter was still silent and his face was grim and Edmund couldn't help feeling bad for him, his anger at Peter completely dissipated. Edmund knew what it felt like to make mistakes, to have regrets, and to lose something that you desperately wanted, so he wasn't going to make it any harder for Peter, or Eustace, now.

Finally he heard the whistle of the approaching train and he let out a sigh of relief, even as he felt Peter stiffen beside him.

"Something's wrong," Peter muttered, and Edmund looked up, his eyes widening.

"It's taking that corner far too quickly," he said, squinting through the dim, misty rain.

After that there was a flash of flaming light and a loud noise, and then everything went dark.

Then it felt like he was lying on his back, but instead of a wet, hard surface he seemed to be lying on dry, warm grass, and when Edmund opened his eyes all he could see was blue sky.

The End.

Footnote: The two sentences that Peter addresses to the vision of King Tirian are direct quotes from The Last Battle by CS Lewis.

Note: You can find the next story - Kings Battle - at my A03 account (username: melblue). I no longer publish stories on ffnet.