"Why are you not angry with me?"

It had been a question that plagued Edmund's mind over and over again since they were crowned, one that never seemed to leave him. It did not matter how well his siblings treated him nor did it seem to matter that it had been over three weeks since his rescue. Other than a bit of awkwardness when he was initially rescued from the White Witch, his siblings treated him much better than he deserved, or at least, better than he thought anyway.

This is what drove him to ask such a question late one night. It had just been him and Peter lying beside each other in Peter's oversized bed, discussing the events of their days and how their lessons were going.

But when the conversation grew to a natural silence and Peter was just peacefully laying beside him, Edmund did not dare to relish in the comfort of having his brother actually want him there next to him. Because no matter how much he tried, he could not stop thinking about how much he had betrayed them and how awful it felt. That was why he did not understand their forgiveness at all.

Of all people, how could his siblings not have treated him as terribly as he deserved? There had been no screaming, no insults, nothing at all. Only a few Narnians still gave him a wary eye, but everyone in the castle had appeared to move beyond his betrayal. The worst part was that the three people he betrayed the most gave him not an ounce of grief for it.

After he asked his fateful question to Peter, he could not bear to look at his brother, because he was quite convinced that there would be sadness or anger on Peter's face. Instead, all he heard was Peter roll over to look at him.

Based on his voice, he thought Peter was amused when he asked, "What is it this time? Did you and Lu sneak off to the beach to play again?"

That day with Lucy had actually been fun. After a long two weeks of learning to be rulers, the two of them had snuck out of the palace to go to the beach when no one was looking and played there for a few hours. When Peter, Susan, and Oreius had found them, Oreius had only scolded them for not telling anyone where they went off to, and then he left the four of them to play on the beach until it was time for dinner.

Peter laughed at the idea, bringing Edmund's attention back to him. Peter said, "I would not blame you if you did. I would have rather been at the beach than trying to learn all the names of the noble families in Archenland. There are so many of them."

Edmund allowed himself to catch only a glimpse at Peter, noticing that he had this amused smile on his face. Peter never looked at him with contempt anymore, just with love, and despite their relationship growing so much in the last few weeks, there was still the pressing matter of why Peter was not as angry as he should be. While Edmund did relate to the dullness of memorizing the names of noble families they had not met yet, he felt his courage slipping and knew if he did not speak soon, he might lose his ability to.

"No, it is not that." Edmund's voice was wobbly, even to his own ears, and he noticed immediately that Peter's entire demeanor shifted at this realization. Because it was no longer a humorous mood, but instead, when he glanced at Peter, he saw he only had concern on his face.

Edmund did not know how to say this aloud. When he had been preparing himself to talk to Peter, he thought that Peter would immediately know that he was referring to him and the Witch. Now, that he was going to have to ask Peter aloud how he was not angry about him betraying them, he did not know if he had the strength to say those words.

Because there was no longer this tension in the air between them anymore, he was rather afraid to lose that part of his relationship with his brother. Peter talked freely with him now and wanted to know about Edmund's day. He wanted Edmund around him. It was such a change for them. But now, Edmund felt that if he did voice this question, he would ruin everything they had built in the last few weeks. He fearfully concluded that maybe, the only reason why he and Peter were on such good terms was because they avoided the subject entirely.

"Our sisters asked me to help them set up a picnic for the four of us," Edmund said instead. He chanced a glimpse at Peter, seeing his concern still plain on his face. "They did not want me to tell anyone until they were able to convince Oreius of it, in the event he had said no for safety reasons." He hoped using treating their sisters would distract Peter from the way his voice was tightening the more he spoke. Peter's face dropped at the end of his words. "Unless you do not wish to have a picnic."

Peter's eyebrows furrowed for a moment, and Edmund took the minor respite to try to regain his composure. He was not ready to talk to Peter like this. He would just ruin everything again. He just hoped telling him about the picnic that their sisters did have planned would be enough for Peter to drop the conversation.

Just when he thought that he might have succeeded with this distraction, Peter spoke once more. This time, his voice was soft and delicate, and he said, "That is not what you actually wanted to talk to me about." He hesitated for only a moment before adding, "Was it?"

Peter was getting better at understanding him, and he did not know what to do about it. Panic gripped his entire being, and he looked away entirely. He was caught, and he had no means of getting away from this situation. He had brought it up, and Peter knew there was more to this.

Instead of pressing him more though, Peter returned to lying on his back and his attention seemed to be on the ceiling; more importantly, his attention was away from Edmund.

His voice was still rather quiet and no less kind as he said, "I am sure Oreius will agree that a picnic will be a nice break for all of us." Then, Peter said nothing else. He seemed to be waiting.

He is giving me a choice, Edmund realized after a few moments. A choice on where their conversation went next. Edmund could either tell him the truth or they could move on from this conversation.

All he wanted to do was retreat and to have never spoken at all. He looked at Peter, who just seemed to emulate calmness. Despite the amount of time it was taking Edmund to answer him, Peter remained patient.

It was this willingness to give him the space he needed and to let him answer if he chose to that made Edmund feel like he ought to say something. Because despite not pressing him for answers, Peter had been rather understanding these last couple of weeks. Never once did he question him or force any details out of him about what happened with the Witch. Sometimes, Peter would just hold Edmund while he cried without him ever needing to tell him why.

And then, Edmund thought to himself that he would not be able to be the kind of brother that Peter might need if he kept this question to himself and let it hang over him like an anchor waiting to drop. He was so afraid of Peter answer, but he needed to know it.

"Why—" He started, finding some courage to speak again. His brother did not move though, just merely looked at him with that same calmness about him that seemed to make Edmund feel a little bit better. But it was that same patience that reminded Edmund that his siblings had been terribly nice to him, and he found himself saying instead, "I—I am so sorry, Peter."

Right before his eyes, he watched Peter shift from patience to confusion then to worry. "What are you apologizing for?"

He did not even know! It was not as if Edmund had actually managed to apologize properly in the last three weeks much at all. He had tried to, but never this close before. Wasn't Peter expecting an apology from him at some point? Did he not wait to hear Edmund utter those words?

When Edmund was left thinking over how absurd it was that Peter did not even immediately know what he was referring to, Peter continued speaking carefully, "I am not angry with you." He spoke as if he was afraid Edmund might break. "Not about anything I can think of, Ed."

Edmund's heart constricted. Ever since they had been growing closer, Peter had started to call him, Ed, again, and somehow, whenever his brother said it, he just felt like he belonged and that his brother felt as good about their relationship as he did. It made him feel whole.

He did not think he could ever actually explain this aloud to someone. He thought he would sound rather ridiculous for placing such a weight on a nickname, but the importance was there for him. Because Peter did not say it like Edmund's friends used to like he was one of them, a bully. Instead, it sounded like a badge of honor coming out of Peter's mouth, and it reassured him of his place beside his brother ordinarily, but not now.

It actually only made him feel worse about even bringing this topic up with his brother. They were on better terms; why did he have to ruin this too?

"Whatever is bothering you," Peter offered. "You can tell me. I promise, I will not be angry."

"That is the problem, Peter," he admitted. "You should be furious with me, and you are not." To this, Peter remained quiet. When Edmund looked at him, all he saw was pity for how Edmund felt. "You cannot keep looking at me like that either. I do not deserve your sympathy."

"Ed." Peter rose from lying and leaned on his elbows, shifting to his side to look at Edmund. "If you are ready," he said quickly. "You can talk to me."

Edmund's shaky voice returned to him, but he somehow found his voice when he asked, "Why are you not angry—about—me—" Edmund was so uncomfortable saying this. He wanted to finish this sentence by saying about me betraying you, but he could not bear those words to cross his lips, despite the truth to them. Instead, he elected to saying, "—about me and the White Witch?"

There was not much surprise on Peter's face anymore. He must have deduced what it was about, Edmund realized. But there was such sympathy and worry coming from his brother, even after he said the words aloud. How could Peter still look at him like this?

Before Peter could even form a proper response, Edmund had to add, "You cannot say you were not angry with me. You had to be." He paused to try to regain his composure before continuing, "You still have every right to be, but you are not." He hesitated. The question came out almost at a whisper as he asked, "Are you?" He was suddenly afraid that maybe Peter was angry but merely hid it well.

He moved to sitting up so he could actually look at his brother too. Peter ran his hand through his hair; it was a nervous habit that Edmund only recently noticed. He returned his attention back to Edmund after a few moments.

In such a careful voice, Peter spoke slowly as if he was unsure of the words himself, or perhaps, just uncertain of how Edmund would react to them: "I will admit that I was angry at first." Peter kept looking at him with an almost sadness to his eyes now. "But after I found out who the White Witch was and what she was going to do to you, I—well, nothing else mattered then."

"How could it not?" Edmund questioned. "How could none of what I had done matter?"

Peter gave him a sad smile as he said, "Because I cared more about what happened to you than what you had done."

To this, Edmund could not keep the words from coming out of his mouth: "I betrayed you." A flash of hurt crossed Peter's face, but it faded just as quickly. He did not even look angry at the mention of this either.

"You made a mistake."

"It was more than just some mistake, and you know that."

The two of them stayed in silence for a few moments. Edmund's tone had been harsh and full of anger, anger he realized he felt towards himself. Why was he angrier than Peter was?

"The White Witch—" Peter's voice hitched. "What happened with her—You were manipulated, and she hurt you, Edmund," he said this as if it was the fact of the situation. "To place all of the blame on you is far too harsh."

"I went to her on my own," Edmund reasoned. "No one made me."

"I am not sure that is true either," Peter countered. There seemed to be such a heavy weight to him now. "It was not like I was particularly kind to you before you went to her." It took Edmund a moment to realize that Peter felt guilty about how he treated Edmund before he went to the Witch, and Peter carried that with him too. His face scrunched up a bit as he continued, "Besides, I stopped feeling angry at all the moment that Mr. Beaver told me the Witch was going to kill you. I just wanted to save you then."

How is he this noble all the time? Edmund questioned to himself, almost annoyed. He did not understand it. The fact that Peter somehow found a way to blame even himself for Edmund's actions was more proof to him that he never should have been allowed back. He did not deserve that kind of open forgiveness.

"You cannot share this blame with me," Edmund said. "You should have been furious with me from the very start, and you still should be."

"I was hurt more than anything else," Peter admitted to him softly. Edmund felt his heart pound against his ears. Peter's face seemed to reflect a pain Edmund did not realize was there.

A pain I had caused, Edmund realized. He had been so focused on his siblings being angry with him that he never considered that they could still be hurt by his actions. He thought of the anger they had to feel, not the pain they would have felt instead. How painful it must have been to be betrayed by their own brother? Somehow, this realization made him feel so much worse.

Anger was an emotion he was used to. One he had dealt with a lot since their father had left for the War. He was used to understanding people's anger, whether it was directed at him or because of him.

Forgiveness and pain seemed more foreign to him. Not that he did not feel those things before, but in England, it had been easier to be angry, and even though his siblings had always been rather kind, he hardly accepted their attempts. And pain, from what he had done? He hated that more than he had hated the anger he felt for himself.

Before he could really say anything to this confession Peter shared with him, Peter continued with the same gentleness, "I do not feel the same hurt anymore." His few words caught Edmund off guard and forced him to pay close attention to his brother. "Once I saw you on that hilltop with Aslan, I realized that all I cared about was that you were alright. You were safe, and that was what mattered to me." He seemed to have such a love coming from him. It overwhelmed Edmund. "I thought I had lost you, Ed, and I was so afraid for you while you were captured."

Afraid For him? Even when Peter knew he had betrayed them?

"Then at Beruna," Peter continued. "I almost did lose you." His face contorted with his emotions at the memory. "So, no, Ed, I am not angry with you. I was not lying when I told you I had forgiven you."

"I do not understand," Edmund pleaded with him, begging for that realization that would make his brother's forgiveness make sense to him.

"You are a good person," Peter told him so definitively. "Whether you want to believe it or not. You always have been. Narnia just has made it easier for that side of you to come out. You have already changed so much since we came here. Why would I be angry at someone who is no longer the same person?"

While Edmund could agree that he tried his very best to be kind and every bit of a King he was supposed to be, it did not mean that Peter did not have every right to be angry with him.

"But I hurt you," Edmund insisted, pain in his voice. "I betrayed all three of you. You should have never allowed me back."

Of course, Edmund did not wish for this to actually happen. He loved being with his siblings, and he loved being in Narnia with them. But his heart ached in such a way that it was weighed down by guilt.

"You are much too hard on yourself," Peter reasoned firmly like there was no dispute about it. "I know you are sorry for what you did."

"How are you so sure? Don't you think I am going to betray you again?"

"No," Peter answered. When Edmund did not say any word in reply, he asked, "Do you think you will?"

No, he had learned his lesson. He trusted his siblings, and he wanted to be a part of this with them. He did not want to do this alone. He did not want to humiliate them. He wanted them to succeed too. He wanted the four of them to be close.

"Never," he replied.

"See? You said it yourself. I have no reason to distrust you," Peter concluded with a gentle smile on his face.

"Just like that? You are just going to take me at my word?"

"I trust you, Ed," Peter explained delicately. "I believe you when you say you never want to hurt me again. I also believed you when you said you would follow me at Beruna." With such a kind smile on his face, he added, "And I trust you to lead Narnia with me."

Edmund's face scrunched with effort, trying to keep his emotions from pouring out. He could not comprehend how Peter trusted him so. He did not deserve any of this. They were too kind.

"I do not deserve your trust."

"Of course, you do," Peter insisted.

"No, I really do not," Edmund replied solemnly. There was a silence between them. Edmund was left wallowing in his thoughts, as Peter seemed to gather his, for he was the one to speak next.

"Do you think you are having a difficult time accepting my forgiveness because you have not forgiven yourself?"

Edmund froze entirely; he was not sure he was even breathing anymore. He was absolutely speechless, and he could not even form the words to agree with Peter. It certainly was the truth. Because he was so very angry with himself for his mistakes, it only made sense to him that his siblings had to feel the same against him. He never thought that it was only he who was angry. All he could do was offer a small nod to his brother.

In that same kind voice Peter seemed to use more often with him, he actually pleaded with Edmund, "Please, Ed, you have to forgive yourself. You made a mistake. But Susan, Lucy, and I have all forgiven you for it. Aslan forgave you too. Ed, please, you have to try."

"You should all hate me."

"We don't," Peter reassured. Then he carefully said, "I know you do not think so, but you deserve to be forgiven. And you did not deserve what happened to you when you were with her, not one moment." Peter reached out his hand, placing his hand on his shoulder and gave him a reassuring squeeze. Peter continued to insist, despite Edmund's emotions battling him now at his brother's kind words. "You did not deserve what the Witch did to you, and you surely do not deserve to be angry with yourself all the time."

Edmund's emotions were causing him to lose control. They were at a breaking point, and his face scrunched in the effort to keep the tears from pouring out. He did deserve what happened, didn't he? He went to her.

"Pete, just stop," Edmund desperately pleaded.

"No, Ed," Peter refused not unkindly. "I speak the truth, and you have to hear it. You did not deserve what happened to you, I promise you did not."

His words seemed so certain, such facts, that Edmund was not sure he could refute them.

It was only a few seconds later that Peter said something that broke down all of Edmund's barriers he had spent so long trying to keep upright: "And I promise, we did not stop loving you when you went to the White Witch."

His frail emotional state cracked. The tears poured out from his eyes, and he did not even attempt to stop them. He only had to reach for Peter, for him to pull Edmund close and hold him tightly. All Edmund could do was cry in his arms.

"I love you, Ed," Peter whispered to him. "And I always have and always will." He placed a delicate kiss on the side of Edmund's face, holding him close, and for the first time in such a long time, Edmund was able to believe him.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read this! I appreciate any and all reviews on my stories; they mean so much and are great motivators too.

I am currently working on a short multichapter fic, and I am hoping to post that soon!

Thank you for reading!