Companion fic to Bringing Him Healing and Hearing Him Breathe. Lucy and Susan have had their fright, and now it's time for Peter's night.

Disclaimer: You know this isn't C.S. Lewis' writing style. Unless you only watched the movies, then you wouldn't know.

His brother gasped. The White Witch had a cruel smile on her face as she pulled the broken wand out of him. Scarlet liquid coated the white wand, like red ribbons. Drops of blood, like ruby beads, fell from the tip of the splintered point. He watched as Edmund brought his hands to his wound as his knees failed to support his weight and buckled beneath him.

For that few moments, time slowed to a crawl for him. The battle around him faded, his ears ignored the sound of clashing metal and pained cries. Every fibre of his being was focused on his brother, who was falling, falling. With every second, Edmund fell closer to the ground, until he landed on his back, gasping in pain.

Peter rushed to his brother's side, falling to his knees in a subconscious attempt to be closer to Edmund. The wound was so deep, red blood was everywhere. His brother's life force gushed out of him like a broken dam. He applied pressure to the wound, trying to stop the incessant flow, but the blood slipped past his fingers, bypassing him with ease. The red puddle around Edmund continued to grow rapidly.

"You cannot save him." The White Witch taunted him.

"Don't leave me, Ed." He pleaded. He couldn't say anything in reply to the taunt, because in his heart, he agreed with her. Blood was supposed to stay in one's body, not pool and stain the green grass below. There was enough of Edmund's blood on the ground to paint their house door, maybe house doors.

"Your fault." Blank brown eyes stared at him. "Drove me to her."

Peter stared at him in shock. The words cut into him deeper than any blade could, brought him pain that far exceeded physical pain. He knew that Edmund was not wrong, and that made the words pierce into his very soul.

"Your fault." Edmund whispered.

The body in his arms went limp. Brown eyes stared at him, unwilling to release him even in death. His body was so cold, like ice.

"Your fault…"

Peter woke up with a gasp. Overwhelmed by the terribly real nightmare, his body couldn't move until his mind had fully left the clutches of the dreaming realm. It was only after his memories returned to replace the images warped by fear that the High King was able to calm down.

"Oh, Ed." He said softly as he remembered the cruelty his royal brother had to endure in the hands of the White Witch. If he had treated Edmund better back home, Edmund wouldn't have been so bitter. His royal brother wouldn't have to endure the guilt he carried with him everywhere like heavy baggage.

"Your fault."

He pressed a hand against one half of his face. All the times he had not been a good older brother to Ed. Regret weighed heavily on his chest. All Edmund's suffering could have been prevented.

His body was so cold, like ice.

Ed was alive. He was sure of it. Lucy's cordial healed the wound. He just ate with Edmund not long ago. But the dream, it was so real. He could still remember the weight of the cold body from the nightmare, the contrast of cold flesh against warm blood…

Peter sat up and swung his legs over to the side of the bed. The best way to calm himself after such Edmund-related nightmares was to go to Edmund and let himself see his royal brother safe and unharmed. A quick visit and he would be able to return to his sleep.

He walked towards Edmund's room in silence, not even needing a lamp to light his path. He had travelled to Edmund's room so often that such aid was unnecessary. The High King reached his royal brother's room and slipped in without a sound.

Borrowing the light from the moon, Peter saw his royal brother in peaceful slumber. However, unlike most nights, the sight of Edmund alive and unharmed was not enough to dispel the nightmare that woke him. The chill from Edmund's limp body was too real to ignore.

Peter let his feet bring him to Edmund's large bed. For a nightmare like that, a more… touchable proof was needed. Just as how he felt the cold body, he needed to feel Edmund's warm flesh.

Gently, he placed a hand on Edmund's forehead. The warmth beneath his palm made him feel so relieved that his knees almost buckled beneath him. Nightmares were never nice to have, especially when it was derived from a true incident. The Battle of Beruna was still too fresh for him to shrug it off so easily.

He didn't know how long he stayed there, just stroking the dark locks away from Edmund's face. As the night grew old, Peter knew that he should return to his own quarter, but he couldn't bring himself to pull away, as if afraid that if he turned his back, the White Witch would appear and snatch Edmund away from them.

In the end, he decided to sleep with his royal brother for the night. Lucy and Susan had already shared Edmund's bed before, he would just be completing the… circle? In any event, it would be his turn to give Ed a surprise wake up call.

The High King lifted the covers and slipped under it, settling beside his royal brother. The bed dipped as he moved, but Edmund did not wake. Peter frowned. Edmund was such a deep sleeper, it was worrying. What if someone with harmful intentions managed to sneak in? Edmund would be powerless to defend himself. Peter made a mental note to make arrangements for them to share quarters in the near future.

"Night Ed." He muttered and pressed a kiss to his royal brother's temple. Blue eyes closed and he started to relax, letting Edmund's comforting warmth guide him to sleep.

Hope you liked that. Let me know what you think?