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"I’m not a child anymore, Peter! If you keep forbidding me from everything, then what’s the point of my duty as a king?!"
Arguments like this had become commonplace in Cair Paravel ever since the Pevensies took the throne.
Peter and Edmund — the two brothers who could never seem to stop clashing.
And it was always about the same thing.
Like today, Edmund wanted to patrol the woods alone.
As usual, Peter forbade it.
Frustrated by what he saw as Peter’s excessive protectiveness, Edmund would inevitably fight back with shouts, while Peter, equally stubborn, would argue that Edmund was reckless and foolish — especially knowing that many of Jadis' followers were still hiding in the forests.
"I just don’t want you to be in danger, Ed—!"
BAM!
Peter’s study door slammed shut with a loud bang.
Edmund stormed out, his footsteps pounding furiously down the corridor.
Peter stood still for a moment, exhaling a heavy sigh.
He knew Edmund was angry — furious with his constant restrictions.
But Peter wasn’t trying to hinder Edmund's duties as a king.
He only wanted to protect him.
Because Edmund was his responsibility.
Peter understood that Edmund was eager to prove himself — to show Narnia that he was no longer the boy who had once betrayed them to the White Witch.
But surely, there were safer ways to serve Narnia without throwing himself into danger?
After a few minutes of gathering his composure, Peter made up his mind.
He knew exactly where Edmund would go after a fight like this:
His bedroom.
Without knocking, Peter quietly entered.
He found Edmund lying on his bed, his face buried deep in a pillow.
"Ed..." Peter called gently as he approached.
If this had been three months ago, before their come to Narnia, Peter might have simply grabbed another pillow and smacked Edmund with it.
But now, he knew better.
"Edmund," he called again, patient.
"I want to be alone, Peter! Leave me alone!" Edmund shouted, his voice tight with anger.
But Peter didn’t listen.
He calmly crossed the room, sat on the edge of the bed, and then lay down beside him.
Edmund flinched as he felt the mattress dip.
He turned slightly and found Peter lying next to him, smiling softly.
"Peter, what are you—" Edmund started to pull away, but Peter had already wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him gently into a hug.
Edmund stiffened immediately, struggling to break free.
"Let me go! Don’t hug me! I hate you!" he snapped, fists pounding weakly against Peter’s chest.
Peter said nothing.
He simply held him, patient and steady, weathering the weak blows and frantic pushes.
Slowly, Peter’s hand reached up to gently stroke Edmund’s hair, and he bent his head to place a soft kiss on his brother’s crown.
"I know," Peter whispered.
Gradually, Edmund’s resistance faded.
The fists stopped hitting.
Instead, they clutched Peter’s tunic tightly, desperately.
"Still hate me?" Peter murmured. Edmund answered only with a small, broken sob.
"I’m sorry, Edmund," Peter said quietly. "I didn’t forbid you from patrolling because I doubt your ability as a king. I—"
"—don’t want me to be in danger, and there are other things I can do instead, right?" Edmund mumbled bitterly, repeating the familiar lecture he’d heard so many times before, his voice muffled against Peter’s chest.
Peter smiled faintly. "That’s right. I’m glad you remember."
He pulled Edmund closer, embracing him even more tenderly.
"But if I don't do something, how will they ever see that I’ve changed?" Edmund whispered hoarsely.
Peter sighed deeply.
"My dear brother, haven’t we talked about this already?
The truth is, Edmund, the people of Narnia would feel guilty — heartbroken — if you ever got hurt just trying to prove something to them.
And tell me — did someone glare at you again today? Someone looking at you with resentment?"
Peter felt Edmund shake his head.
But he knew he was lying.
He simply stroked his back gently, offering silent comfort.
"Ed," Peter continued, "whenever someone looks at you that way, think instead of those who love you — who believe in you, who see you as a wise and just king.
Those who continue to resent you... they’re just cowards looking for flaws they could never endure in themselves."
He paused, shifting slightly so he could look at Edmund directly.
"And Ed, even if the whole of Narnia turned against you, I would still be here.
My arms will always be open to you."
Upon hearing those words, Edmund buried his face deeper into Peter’s chest, soft sobs shaking his body.
Peter kissed the top of his brother’s head again and gently rubbed his back.
"I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier... and for slamming the door," Edmund whispered between hiccuping sobs.
Peter exhaled slowly, the tension in his body easing as he continued to soothe him.
"I’m sorry too, Edmund," he said quietly. "I know I can be overprotective... too worried sometimes.But please know, it’s only because I love you."
Edmund nodded faintly.
They stayed like that in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.
Peter gazed out the window, thoughtful.
They would still argue.
Edmund would still make reckless decisions.
But he would always be his little brother.
Even though Edmund could be stubborn, Peter now understood that anger wasn’t the way to discipline him anymore.
Not after Beruna.
Not after all the scars Edmund carried inside.
What Edmund needed now was understanding.
And love.
Peter's heart ached every time he saw Edmund burdened with guilt — even after Aslan’s forgiveness, even after the Narnians’ acceptance.
He could still remember one night, finding Edmund standing alone on the balcony, staring out into the dark sea, quietly asking himself,
"Am I even worthy to be here?"
Edmund, once so brave and free, now weighed down by doubts Peter could never take away.
Those painful thoughts faded as Peter noticed Edmund’s breathing ,slow and steady, soft against his chest.
He looked down.
Edmund had fallen asleep.
Peter smiled gently, hugging him closer and whispering into his ear
"Sleep well, Ed. Have sweet dreams."
***
The next day, Peter returned to Edmund’s room, intending only to tidy up the chaos left behind.
Edmund had never been the most organized, books scattered, clothes strewn carelessly.
While putting things away, Peter found a small cabinet tucked in the corner.
One of the drawers was slightly ajar.
Curious, Peter pulled it open.
Inside, amidst crumpled scraps of paper and dried-out pens, sat a small glass bottle.
He picked it up.
The liquid inside was thick and dark, nearly black.
Peter cautiously opened the cap, and recoiled instantly.
A sharp, bitter scent filled his nose, stinging.
Peter’s heart seized.
He knew exactly what it was.
Poison.
His hand shook as he carefully returned the bottle to the drawer, closing it gently.
Fear, confusion, anger, heartbreak — all stormed through his mind at once.
"Edmund..." he whispered hoarsely, feeling a painful heat behind his eyes.
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