january 2006
http://cakehole.org/zedpm
Please do not archive without permission.
Edmund resents Peter; Edmund has always resented Peter. Though Peter may be to all of Narnia he is not and will never be a king in Edmund's eyes. Peter is gangly and soft-eyed and thinks only of himself; his extra years and inches mean nothing if he cannot lead an army. The Queen's power is too great for four wayward children, and Edmund believes he has done the right thing.
Peter chooses for them, however, and Edmund resents him; yet he also envies Peter's regal stance, the quiet strength of his voice. He steals away and runs toward the mountains, where he might one day prove himself worthy of his brother's loyalty.
Susan would laugh at him, Edmund thinks: just desserts for what he's done to Lucy. It's Edmund's fault that Tumnus is gone, Edmund's fault they're all in mortal danger. Edmund's fault, too, that he himself sits chained in the Queen's prison. He was never meant to be a prince just as he was never meant to surpass his brother; the solid truth of this weighs heavily on his chest.
Peter must be disgusted with him; but then, Edmund has never been anything but deceitful. How odd that his lies have become his true self: glib on his tongue, stinging his lips with their sweetness. Odder still that Edmund lies to himself even now, telling himself Peter will come for him, and tries to draw comfort from the still air.
Aslan gives him a talking-to; Edmund can do nothing but shuffle his feet and nod as Aslan lists his misdeeds one by one. The others are staring, some with disbelief, some with mistrust, some whispering traitor under their breath. Edmund meets their accusing eyes and tucks their anger deep inside himself, trying to warm the winter in his heart. He does not know if it can be done.
Lucy looks up when he approaches, and Edmund says hello because it is what strangers say when meeting on a cold grey morning; because if he says it, Narnia might disappear and they will wake up tucked into warm beds; because there is nothing Edmund cannot handle now.
He says hello, and though Lucy and Susan forgive him, Edmund cannot mistake the look in Peter's eyes.
Edmund had thought the Queen beautiful before; now, in the heat of the plains, her pale glory fails to move him. She stands haughty and terrible, a shameful reminder of what Edmund has done, but he does not tremble. Aslan has given him courage; even without Aslan every warrior believes they cannot lose. Their cause has made them fearless.
Too many times Edmund loses sight of Peter; too many times Peter vanishes beneath a hail of arrows only to reappear at Edmund's side. Edmund is clumsy with his sword but Peter wields his like a king, already, and it is fitting: Peter is fighting for Narnia, and all of Narnia is fighting for him.
Then he falls.
Peter shouts at Edmund to run, and he is halfway up the ridge before regret twists fierce and wrenching in his stomach. He turns back to the battle and steadies his arm, prepared to die amidst the clash of swords and shields, and realizes, suddenly, that he's not afraid.
Edmund will never betray his brother again; of this, he is sure.
Later, Peter helps him strip off the armor and mail; touches him gently, firmly, with trembling hands still soiled by his blood. Peter touches him, and Edmund yields, trying to tell Peter with his flesh that he is still alive, still breathing. Still there.
This Peter is a different Peter, sharp around the edges: Edmund does not recognize him. Edmund searches his brother's face and thinks of the wardrobe; of broken windows and Peter shattered in the light. Then Peter holds him, and Edmund knows.