Hi I dont own Narnia or any other mystical land hidden in furniture.

Sorry, I know my grammer is not great, but bear with me.

Ok, on with the fic.

The very air was bitter, stinging his still bleeding lips as he struggled to breath.

Pain spread through his lungs as he inhaled but he did not notice.

He was numb. He was a traitor. He deserved this and far worse.

The ice around his bruised body was slowly melting, soaking his clothes and the bindings that held his hands together, making his cuts ache. He wished She would just end it. End him. Everyone would be better off if he was dead, then his siblings wouldn't have to worry about his useless, beastly, traitorous self anymore.

"I'm sorry"

Those words repeated themselves over and over in his head, creating a mantra that he hoped would redeem some small part of him. But that hope was fading like the melting ice. She would kill him then kill them. Narnia would be lost.

And it was all his fault.

He didn't know who She was at first, She was kind to him, treated him like he was someone important, made him feel warm and loved. He hadn't felt like that since before his father had left for the war, before that horrible boarding school, before Peter had stopped being his big brother and started being his elder brother.

She had given him sweets and told him a story of princes and kings and he had followed Her blindly and had practically sold his siblings, sold them out for sweeties.

Edmunds mind, foggy from the pain, the cold and the guilt, drifted to his brother and dear sisters.

Little Lucy, so kind and caring, she always saw the best in others and they in turn loved her. She was always smiling and laughing; she was the light of his family.

Sweet Susan, she was bossy but only because she cared, she was sensible one in the family, the one to keep them out of trouble, the one who would sooth away the worries.

Proud Peter, he was always so perfect, he always knew what to do, what to say. He was the protector, standing tall; he was a person anyone would be proud to be.

So where did he fit in?

The answer was simple, he didn't fit in. Edmund was the black sheep of the family, a bitter and spiteful boy who only caused trouble, if anything happened Edmund was blamed. He didn't deserve his family.

He slowly succumbed to sleep, wishing that he would not wake up again.

His tears frozen to his face.

He deserved this and far worse.

(scene change, At Aslans Camp after the Battle)

Peter looked over to his brother, who was lying in his cot at the camp.

The Battle had been won, the White Witch was dead and Narnia was saved, but not without a price. Hundreds of Narnians had lost their lives and hundreds more were injured, Lucy and Susan were still tending the wounded hours after the battle had finished, Peter was going to help them but decided to care for Edmund instead.

"Something I should have done a long time ago."

When Edmund had been returned to them he had not known what to think, never mind what to do. His brother had looked so small, so scared, and so sorry.

Peter would never forget the look of utter remorse on Edmunds face. A ten year old should never have that sort of look. A look that had shown how much Edmund had been through and how much he was willing to give to redeem himself.

The memory of that look would haunt Peter until the day he died.

A cry from the cot shook Peter out of his reverie and he was by Edmund in a second. His little brother was shaking in his sleep; probably making his battle wounds worse. Peter slowly picked him up, sliding him onto his lap, holding Edmund as he started to cry in his sleep.

As he held him, Peter realised how much weight Edmund had dropped since they had come to Narnia, now his brother was practically skin and bones, he was far too pale, bruises and cuts marred his body and he would forever bear a scar from that dreadful wand. But made it all more terrible was that Edmund believed he deserved it all, and he had been prepared to die because of that belief, and he almost had.

Thinking of this, tears started to make there way down Peters cheeks.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Edmund had started to whimper, leaning into his brother unconsciously, repeating those words over and over. All Peter could do was watch and try to sooth his baby brother's fear away.

Right then Peter swore to try to prove to Edmund that he was loved and that he did not deserve to suffer.

Warm tears fell from the brothers' faces.

As he held Edmund, Peter gave him all the warmth and protection he could muster, because Edmund deserved it and far much more.

There you go, another shot of brother angst.

Good? Bad? Please review and let me know.