Disclaimer: I do not own the Pevensies or Narnia. They belong to C.S. Lewis.

Author's Note: This comes after I've done all the work I was supposed to do. I haven't written a one-shot about what happened after the Pevensies were crowned, so I decided to write this little story about Peter and Edmund. I hope you all enjoy.

Edmund held the silver crown in his hands, turning it over and over and wondering how, exactly, he had come to possess such a thing. He knew how, but at the same time he didn't. Or perhaps the better question was this: Why?

There was a knock on the door and Edmund whirled around. No doubt it was one of his siblings come to say goodnight. The coronation celebration had just ended and Edmund had been the second to retire to his room. (Lucy had been the first, having fallen asleep towards the end even though she tried her best to stay awake.) Now he crossed to the door and opened it.

Peter was standing there, looking tired. He also looked rather kingly, which didn't surprise Edmund so much. Peter had always had that sort of leader quality about him, although Edmund hadn't seen it as a good thing until after he had met the White Witch. The golden crown on his head looked natural. Edmund suspected that he wouldn't even notice it after awhile. It was a part of Peter, as much as his hands or arms or legs were.

"I was going to say goodnight," Peter said, giving him a small smile. "That was some celebration, wasn't it?"

"It was," Edmund agreed. He could have never imagined anything like it—the fauns, the Talking Animals, the beautiful sunset over the beach, the crowns, Aslan…It wasn't just the celebration, it was Narnia. He sighed. "It was like nothing else."

"No," Peter said. "It wasn't. And yet it felt like…we should have been doing this our whole lives."

Edmund shrugged. He didn't exactly feel that way. Sure, the castle felt like home, and the people were friendly enough, but Peter was also talking about leading Narnia, being kings and queens. Edmund turned the crown again in his hands, not feeling as though it could be his, and Peter looked down to see what Edmund was playing with.

"Ed?" he asked, frowning.

"I don't think I could have been a King a few days ago," Edmund said.

"Edmund," said Peter, a sort of protectiveness coming into his voice. Of course Peter wouldn't believe that Edmund could feel this way. They hadn't talked about what had happened yet, not really, and it was no small wonder that Peter didn't understand.

"No," said Edmund, looking at the crown instead of his brother. "I couldn't have. I betrayed you, and I'm not sure you realize how much I really wanted to…"

"We were hard on you," Peter said. He sounded upset now and Edmund hated seeing Peter upset, but he needed to know this.

"That's no excuse," he said, looking up. "I was hard on you, too! It's because I'm weak, I give into temptation more easily than the rest of you and—why on earth would Aslan make me King? It seems like a bit of a-a joke! A really, really bad joke…"

"A joke?" Peter repeated, raising his eyebrows in disbelief.

"Yes, let's make the traitor King and see what happens. Who knows, maybe he'll make another huge mistake in a few months." Edmund's voice was bitter and a bit higher than he intended it to be. "It's a joke."

"Aslan wouldn't joke about something like that," Peter said.

"No, but I'm sure the rest of Narnia would."

"It's not like that, Ed," Peter said. "Edmund, do you think you would have been able to destroy Jadis' wand if you really hadn't changed? Do you feel anything like you did when you…betrayed us?"

Edmund sighed, looking back down at his crown. He remembered wanting to rule Narnia so much when he had first come, enough to turn in his siblings, enough to nearly ruin the future of a whole country. He had felt entitled to it, almost.

And now he didn't feel he was ready to take the crown, almost didn't want it. He certainly felt he didn't deserve it. He shook his head. "No," he admitted. "I suppose I feel the exact opposite. But, Peter, I should be punished. I shouldn't be made king!" He looked helplessly up at his older brother.

"You were punished," said Peter, looking sad now. "At the battle when she stabbed you and you nearly…died." The word was said reluctantly. "I think you've made up for it. Narnia's forgiven you. Aslan's forgiven you. Lucy and Susan and I have forgiven you."

"Peter, I just can't," Edmund said. "I can't be a great King like you're going to be. And Lucy and Susan…I can't. And I don't think it's that easy…to…"

"Forgive yourself?" Peter asked. Edmund nodded. "I suppose it might take awhile, but…" He took Edmund suddenly by the shoulders, startling the younger boy, who was forced to look up at Peter. "Edmund, you need to listen to me. I know you're going to be a great King. We all have faith in you. You've changed and everyone can see it and even if you don't believe it it's true. Do you really think Aslan would have crowned you if he thought otherwise?"

Part of Edmund wanted to argue, but another part of him realized that what Peter was saying was true. It made sense. "No," he whispered.

"Edmund, the encounter with the White Witch hasn't made you a worse person. It's made you a better person, and now you can be a better King for it."

Edmund was speechless. The mere thought of one person (never mind a whole country!) having such faith in him was daunting, unbelievable. Peter let go of his shoulders and took the silver crown from his hands, placing it on Edmund's head. Then he stepped back to admire his handiwork. "Perfect," he muttered.

Edmund stared at him in disbelief. Surely, he couldn't be serious? But no, Peter was very serious. And Edmund knew that Peter would never sway on this matter. "I'm sorry," he said, for a loss of anything else to say, and also because he could never say it enough.

"So you've said," Peter replied, watching him carefully.

Edmund had to look away for a moment. He found himself looking back, behind him, staring out the window of his room. The stars twinkled at him. He turned back to Peter. "Thanks," he said. "For everything. I don't even think that's enough to cover it."

"It is," Peter said. "And thank you." He smiled. Edmund wasn't exactly sure what Peter was thanking him for, but before he could ask Peter added, "I think we should be getting to sleep."

"We should," Edmund said, although he was a lot less tired now. He stepped forward and, in a rare gesture of affection, he hugged Peter tightly. "I love you, Peter." He meant it, perhaps more than he'd ever meant it before.

Peter rested his head on Edmund's. "I love you, too," he whispered, "and don't ever forget that." They let go and smiled at each other for a moment longer before they said goodnight and Peter retreated down the hall and Edmund stepped back into his room.

The sky was still dark and Edmund was suddenly exhausted. He made his way over to his bed and smiled.

The silver crown, oddly enough, felt rather natural now.