By: NeverOnEarth.

AN: Well, since this is my first Narnia fanfic, my third fanfic in total, I thought that I may as well start off subtle. Sort of. Please be gentle. No Slash!

Disclaimer: Not mine, all rights belong to C. and no matter how much I pray, dream and try, I will never own his works.


It was far into the evening as Peter finally emerged, baggy-eyed and weary, from the training room. He was trudging back to his bedroom after a long day of planning battle strategies - Edmund had retired a little earlier, saying he was exhausted - contemplating the variety of plans and ideas presented to him. He and Edmund still shared a room because, quite frankly, Edmund didn't seem ready to let go just yet and Peter still had trouble sleeping without the sound of his brother breathing – if only to assure himself that Edmund was still alive. The terrible scene from the battle of Beruna still haunted him.

Peter had opened the door, expecting to find his brother already asleep and peaceful. Instead, Edmund was staring at his reflection in a floor length mirror on the opposite side of the room with an expression that could only be described as self hate. Without turning, he spoke as Peter froze in the doorway.

"I really am, aren't I?"

Peter stared. "Are what?" he asked, already half knowing and dreading the answer.

"A traitor. Unwanted. Unloved. Everything she ever said."

In two strides Peter had crossed the room and taken his brother gently but firmly by the shoulders. "Don't be like that," he said sharply, "You're not unwanted. We all love you, Susan and Lucy and I." The tears in Edmunds eyes stung his heart as his little brother stared past him and over his shoulder.

"But I'm different," Edmund protested, sounding broken and lost, "Everyone looks at you with love and affection, but I'm the traitor that no-one can trust. No-one wants me as king. They all try to avoid me when I walk past." He put a great deal of significance on the word 'they', but Peter knew who 'they' were without having to ask. In a wordless gesture he tried to pull Edmund into a hug, but his brother held him off. "I don't have any of Lucy's cheer, Susan's grace, or your bravery. I don't even look anything like any of you." Here his eyes filled with tears. "Maybe we're not even related!"

Peter couldn't take it anymore. He grabbed Edmund and pulled him into a crushing hug. "Edmund," he murmured into his brother's hair, pressing a kiss into its silky waves, "Oh, Eddie."

Edmund sniffed and buried his face into Peter's shoulder. "But I don't," he said finally. "I don't look anything like any of you."

Peter shook his head and held Edmund at arm's length, brushing the stray hairs from the fair skin. "Sure you do," he said, giving Edmund's shoulder a squeeze, "Your nose. You have the same nose as Lucy." Edmund gave him a look that came as close to a smile as he had in days. "And your hair and skin," He gestured to the porcelain hand held in his own and the unruly black hair, "They came from Susan. Don't know where the freckles came from, though," he teased, "Certainly none of us." Edmund's hand immediately bounced up to the bridge of his nose, his dark eyes wide.

"But from you?" he finally managed, "There's nothing that I have in common with you, is there?"

Peter hesitated. "Ed," he said finally, choosing his words with great care, "You must know that you are loved. By all of us. By Lucy. By Susan. By me. By Aslan," Edmund was looking at him almost curiously now, "And the majority of Narnia already looks up to you. You don't know how many people have commented on how proud I must be to have you as a sibling. And I am. I am very, very proud. But there are still those who must learn. I know that you will show them who you really are."

Edmund nodded, them turned and collapsed onto his bed. Peter watched him for a moment before readying himself for sleep, but as he crawled under the covers, Edmund interrupted him.

"Thank you," was all he said, before hesitating and turning to face Peter once more. "You still haven't answered my question though, Pete."

Again, Peter paused before answering. "We share a heart," he said finally, slowly. "We share love."


AN: Well, there's that. I feel that it is incomplete, and should anyone agree please tell me and I'll be only too happy to add another chapter. Reviews and constructive criticism are much appreciated! No flames, please! They make me cry. I think they do, at least. Never received one before.

Peace is a blessing, so treasure it always!