[Narnia] Five Ways Edmund Pevensie Was Never Redeemed
Author: Penemuel (
g_shadowslayer)
Title: Five Ways Edmund Pevensie Was Never Redeemed
Rating: R for addiction references and violence
Character/Pairing/Group: Edmund Pevensie
Fandom: Chronicles of Narnia - The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe
Word Count: 5543 total (1102 for part 1, 670 part 2, 1596 part 3, 318 part 4, and 1857 part 5)
Warnings: This could be considered darkfic. I refuse to spoil things in the warnings, but look at the title and think about it for a few minutes. If you know how Edmund was redeemed, you can probably come up with some things that would keep it from happening. Keep this in mind if you plan to read it. These are not happy fluffy fics. Note: If you whine to me after reading this warning and then reading the story anyway, I will ignore you or get snarky.
Notes: Written for
5_nevers
Spoilers: If you've been living under a rock and have never read the book (or seen the movie), parts of it are referenced in here.
Disclaimer: Walden Media, Disney, and the Lewis estate aside, C.S.Lewis himself said, "Why not write stories for yourself to fill up the gaps in Narnian history? I've left you plenty of hints -- especially where Lucy and the Unicorn are talking in The Last Battle. I feel I have done all I can!"
Five Ways Edmund Pevensie Was Never Redeemed
by Penemuel
Greed 1
By the time he and Lucy returned through the wardrobe, Edmund was nauseous from not just eating too many sweets, but from the magic in the Witch's Turkish Delight. He didn't know this was what was wrong, so when being sick didn't make him feel any better, he became cross and sulky and more of a nuisance than he had been before. He was cruel to Lucy, and sulked when Peter and Susan tried to find ways to keep them all occupied. And he wanted, more than anything else, to get back to Narnia so he could see the Witch again and get more of that delicious Turkish Delight.
He didn't know how he could talk them into going, though, after he had pretended it was all a sham on Lucy's part -- he couldn't go back on what he had said without seeming like a right bastard, and he wasn't willing to do that yet. But he wanted it -- needed it -- so badly that it seemed to be the only thing he could think of.
And when breakfast and dinner and supper all tasted like ash on his tongue, he forced himself to choke down enough food to keep himself from fainting, but very little more. But soon, even that became too much effort, and he stopped coming down for meals. At first the others thought he was just being difficult, and Peter had shaken his head and told them, "Don't play into his hands, he's just doing it for attention." But as Edmund grew weaker and more pale, even Lucy let go her anger at him and defended him, and his older brother had to admit there was something wrong.
"Ed, tell us what it is -- we want to help," he said softly, sitting at his brother's bedside. The dark circles under his eyes, the way they no longer sparkled with life and emotion -- even when that emotion had just been anger -- it frightened him and Peter knew something was gravely wrong. He took one of Edmund's hands and gently squeezed, then whispered, "Please, Ed?"
"I lied," Edmund whispered, meeting his eyes and shaking his head. "Lucy was telling the truth -- it's real."
There was a soft gasp from the door, and Peter looked up sharply to see Lucy standing there, her expressive eyes wide with shock. "You met the Witch!" she cried with sudden realization. "You met the Witch and she did something horrible to you!"
"She gave me something to eat and drink," Edmund said, his voice a shaky whisper. "Some kind of hot chocolatey something, and Turkish Delight..."
"Oh Ed..." Peter said softly, knowing how the dessert was his brother's weakness.
At the same time, Lucy blurted, "You never eat the magical food, Ed! That's how they trap you!"
"Do you think I don't know that now, Lu?" he asked, his voice cracking as a tear rolled down his sunken cheek. "I can't eat anything -- I need it..."
And Lucy rushed to his bedside and took his other hand, squeezed it gently and said, "I'll get some for you, Ed. Just like Lizzie in 'Goblin Market' -- I'll make that horrid Witch give me some and it'll cure you!"
"Oh Lu, that's just a faerie tale," Peter said gently, "just a story..."
"There's a doorway to another world in the wardrobe, Peter," she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "It's not just a faerie tale!"
"It's too far," Edmund said weakly. "Her house is too far from the wardrobe. You'll never make it there on your own."
"She won't be going on her own, Ed," Peter reassured him. "If there's even the slightest chance that this might work, I'm going with her. We'll fight our way to the Witch's house if we have to, but I'm not going to just let you die!"
"What's going on?" Edmund looked up, startled by his older sister's sudden appearance in the doorway.
Peter and Lucy looked up, too, and Peter said, "You stay here with Edmund -- we'll be back as soon as possible!" and before she could even ask what was going on, they were rushing from the room and Edmund was sinking back into the pillows, exhausted by even that small amount of activity.
"Ed?" Susan asked, and he shook his head and sighed wearily. She tried to force a smile and ended up having to bite her lip to keep from crying. "Oh Ed, tell me they're going to fix this..."
"They're going to get themselves killed trying..." he whispered, just before he drifted into unconsciousness.
* * *
Lucy and Peter hurried to the wardrobe and pushed their way in, Peter's face lighting up with surprise and hope as they emerged into the snowy wood. But as they hurried forward, a soft sound startled them, off to one side and slightly behind, and Peter whirled, grabbed up a heavy stick and stared in horror at the creatures closing in around them.
"What do we have here?" a cold voice rang through the air, and some of the creatures stepped back enough to allow a tall, pale woman clad in furs to approach the children. "Son of Adam and Daughter of Eve -- but where is your brother Edmund, and your other sister?" she asked, stepping close enough to cup Peter's chin.
"Our sister is at home with Ed, and you're a horrible witch!" Lucy shrieked, rushing at her and trying to push her away from Peter.
"Goodness, what a fierce little creature," the Witch said as Lucy shoved at her. "And tell me, little girl, how does your brother fare? He was supposed to bring you all to me, here..."
"You're killing him, you awful person!" Lucy shrieked, hitting the Witch with her little fists.
And the Witch arched a pale eyebrow and smiled a humourless smile. "Am I, now? Isn't that a shame..." Then she looked down into Peter's shocked face, brought up her wand, and pierced him through the heart with it.
As he fell, he turned to stone, and Lucy screamed. "Noooo!"
Already the Witch was pulling her wand free, ignoring the distraught girl. She turned and walked back through the woods to her sledge, motioning to the other creatures. "The girl is yours. Do with her as you will -- with both boys dead, there can be no prophecy. And keep guard here until the other girl comes looking for them -- you can have her, too. I'm going to the Stone Table to claim my right as true Queen..."
Greed 2
Edmund shivered as he walked through the great hall of the castle. The Witch was nowhere to be seen, and he seemed to be alone, so he made his way to the fur-covered throne and climbed the dais. As he tugged at some of the furs to use to cover his knees, he heard a small clink against the ice of the throne. Something cold and hard slithered along the fur and almost fell on the cold floor, but he caught it before it could -- it was the vial the Witch had used to create her magical food and drink.
Holding it up, he grinned broadly in the pale blue light that surrounded him, and was about to unstopper it when the Witch came up before him and asked, "Like it?" Startled, he managed to palm the vial and leapt out of the throne, looking a little frightened and cowed.
"Yes, your majesty!" he said, shoving his hands into his pockets to try and warm them, surreptitiously slipping the vial in as he did.
"I thought you might..." she purred, then she questioned him about why the others had not come with him. He had to think quickly to give her answers that didn't anger her too much, but as she had him taken off to the dungeons and sent her wolves after the others, Edmund realized he was in more than a bit of trouble.
* * *
As the Faun was taken away, Edmund shivered and stuck his hands in his pockets once more, trying desperately to warm them, and blinked as he encountered the cool vial. He had almost forgotten about it in the face of his predicament. But now that the Witch and her dwarf were gone, he grinned and studied the vial for a long moment. Already his mouth was watering, and his fingers twitched with eagerness as he pulled the stopper out of the vial.
Thinking of nothing but Turkish Delight, he tilted the vial, pouring one large drop of the potion out of it onto the icy ground. It splashed as it hit, and suddenly there was a large silver box wrapped in a green ribbon, just like the first one the Witch had made for him. "It worked!" he breathed, surprised and eager. His mouth was already watering, and he barely retained the presence of mind to stopper the vial and slide it into his pocket again before he dove in, devouring most of the box in minutes.
Sweet, delicious, wonderful Turkish Delight -- it tasted so good, and yet he didn't feel full at all. Instead, he was starving, craving more and more. He let another drop fall from the vial, half afraid that the Witch had been telling the truth about not being able to use it twice in a row, and almost crowed in triumph when a second box appeared.
Three boxes later, he was beginning to feel very ill, and yet he was starving for it, desperate for more. He frowned at the vial, held it up to look at it in the pale light, trying to find some kind of hint as to what was wrong. Although part of him knew what was wrong and didn't want to admit it -- he knew he was under some kind of enchantment, and it was obvious from the way the Witch had acted that she had intended to enslave him all along...
And he still couldn't stop himself, he realized, as he opened the next box and dove in...
* * *
When the Witch and her servant returned to the dungeon, they found him sprawled on the icy floor, empty boxes of Turkish Delight scattered around his body and the empty vial clutched in one hand. The Witch looked down with cool disdain and prodded him with her foot. "Foolish little boy. Not a king, just a slave... A dead slave." Then she turned to her servant and ordered, "Clean this disgusting mess up," and swept out of the dungeon without another look.
Pride
He was tied to the tree and gagged, and that disgusting little dwarf kept pawing him, leaning into his face and teasing him, and he wanted so badly to get away from it, to kick it until it screamed and begged for mercy. How dare they treat him like this after telling him how important he was to Narnia? Finally, as the night grew dark, he dozed, exhaustion claiming him.
He awoke when someone untied him and hauled him off the ground in strong arms; his first instinct was to cry out and demand to be let go, but a large hand clapped over his mouth and smothered the sound, and then there was galloping and the world rushed by in a blur, woods giving way to grassy hills and finally what seemed to be a war encampment. And then the centaur put him down and bade him sit and rest, and Aslan would speak with him soon. He was too exhausted to keep his eyes open, and curled up on the warm grass and finally slept, too tired, even, to dream.
The soft sound of padding feet woke him, and he looked up to see an enormous lion looking down at him. Terror shot through him and he scrambled to his feet, looking around for a way to escape the giant beast, when a deep voice said, "Son of Adam, do not fear me."
"You -- talk?" he asked, incredulous. And then he realized, this must be Aslan. And the terror in him grew as the Lion met his gaze and looked deep.
"You know who I am, Son of Adam. What do you have to say about your actions?"
"She tricked me! I had no way of knowing who or what she was, and she lied to me!" he said, uncomfortable under the Lion's scrutiny. "She said she would make me a King and instead she just wanted to enslave and use me..."
And the Lion frowned, then softly said, "You saw yourself as King, ruling over this land and your own family, making yourself better than them. What makes you believe you are better than your siblings, Son of Adam?"
"I'm not--" and yet, in the back of his mind he thought that of course he was. After all, Peter was always being so high and mighty, but he wasn't their father and he had no right bossing them around. And Susan always thought she was smarter than everyone, and Lucy -- Lucy got everything, just because she was the youngest... He frowned, then lifted his chin and looked into those golden eyes. "Maybe I am. I'm just as important to Narnia as any one of them, after all."
And then the Lion sighed, and his deep voice rumbled across the hillside, "Foolish prideful boy. You seal your own fate -- there is nothing I can do..." and he turned and walked away.
Edmund stood on the hillside, staring after him for a long moment, wondering exactly what that was supposed to mean. And then he saw the others, gathered at the side of one of the tents; frowned as he saw Aslan stop before them and tell them something. But the girls seemed glad to see him, and he jogged down the hill to join them, happiness beginning to return as they hugged.
And then he turned to look at Peter, and saw his brother frowning at him.
"How could you do it, Ed?" he asked softly, trying not to accuse and not quite succeeding. "How could you sell out your own family to the Witch?"
"I didn't know what she was! I met her before Lucy told us!"
"And you went back to her afterwards..."
"You can't possibly know what it was like, what she did to me," he said crossly. "But instead of asking me, you just have a go at me..."
"Ed-- I'm sorry. I didn't think. Are you all right?" Peter asked, his expression sad. He had hoped his ordeal might have changed Edmund, but he seemed just as difficult as ever.
"She lured me in with promises and enchanted food, then she tied me up and let that horrid dwarf of hers paw at me -- and your Aslan hasn't done anything to even try to break the spell," he answered. "No, I'm not all right. I want to go lie down now." And as he walked off, Peter watched him go, then looked in the direction Aslan had headed. He didn't like the way this felt -- something was very wrong...
* * *
They all gathered, staring in horror as the Witch entered the camp, demanding to speak with Aslan. Edmund swallowed hard, struggling with the urge to run as the pale, imposing figure climbed off her litter and strode forward, her icy gaze sweeping the camp and landing on him.
"You have a traitor in your midst, Aslan," she said, and Edmund inwardly cringed at the hushed gasp that came from all sides. He could feel everyone's eyes on him; once again could feel them all judging him without knowing the full story.
"His offence was not against you," Aslan rumbled, and Edmund felt a small glimmer of hope.
"Have you forgotten the laws upon which Narnia was built?" the Witch asked, her red lips curving in a cruel smile as she watched Edmund's face fall.
"Do not cite the Deep Magic to me, Witch! I was there when it was written," Aslan growled.
"Then you'll remember well that every traitor belongs to me. His blood is my property," the Witch said, and Edmund could feel Lucy and Susan shaking their heads; looking at him in horror. And surprisingly, Peter stepped forward and drew his sword.
"Try and take him then," he cried, glowering fiercely at her.
And she sneered down at him and asked, "Do you think that mere force can deny me my right, little king? Aslan knows that unless I have blood as the law demands, all of Narnia will be overturned and perish in fire and water. That boy," she said, pointing at Edmund, "will die on the Stone Table, as is tradition. You dare not refuse me."
And the lion sighed, a deep rumble, and said, "He has not repented his actions. I can do nothing." He looked sadly at Lucy and Susan, then fixed his golden gaze on Edmund. "The boy is yours, Jadis. Take him and begone."
"What?!" Edmund cried.
"No! You can't!" Susan whispered, looking at Aslan. The sadness in his eyes spoke volumes, and she turned to look at Edmund. "Oh Ed..."
Lucy was crying and Peter had his arms wrapped around her while he looked over at Edmund, his expression grim. "Ed..."
"But I--" Edmund blurted, but the Witch's companions stepped forward and bound him easily, despite his struggles; lifted him and carried him away. The Witch surveyed them all with her cold gaze, lingering on Peter's shattered expression, then she smiled cruelly.
"It is such a shame the prophecy will never come to pass," she purred, then turned and walked from the camp.
As soon as she left, everyone burst into a frenzy of activity. Peter handed Lucy off to Susan and ran after Aslan, who walked back to his tent, his great head hanging low. "Wait!" Peter cried. "You can't just let her take him!"
The great Lion turned back and fixed him with a golden stare, and Peter was shocked at the sadness in those eyes. "It is done, Son of Adam. I forgot that sometimes a Son of Adam is also a Son of Cain..."
"But--"
"There is nothing I can do."
* * *
They crept over the hill and stopped when they could see the Witch's army, monsters and fell creatures, all gathered around a great Stone Table. At one end, two enormous stones stood at the top of a stepped dais, with a great capstone across them. The Witch appeared between them and slowly made her way down the steps towards the table. "Behold, the traitor," she cried, and her Minotaur general prodded Edmund forward with his axe.
"No!" Susan hissed, but Peter held a finger up to his lips. "But there are too many of them -- how can we hope to stop them?" she asked softly.
"I don't know..."
"And Aslan said it had to happen -- she said Narnia would fall..."
"It's going to fall anyway, if we can't fulfill the Prophecy," Peter said quietly.
And then they heard laughter from the Stone Table, saw the creatures kicking and hitting Edmund, and Lucy gasped. "Why doesn't he fight back?"
"He's bewitched," Susan said, frowning.
"Bind him!" the Witch's voice rang out, and the dwarf who was her servant bustled forward to do so, eagerly. They could see Edmund struggling weakly, trying to bat the dwarf's hands away, but in no time he was bound in harsh black ropes and dragged onto the Stone Table, arms stretched wide and ankles tied together.
"Stop them!" Lucy begged Peter, who stared in horror.
"There are too many... we can't hope to get through them all in time," he said, his voice cracking with emotion. "There's nothing we can do!"
"Look away, children," a familiar voice rumbled behind them. They all turned to find Aslan standing on the hillside just below them. "There is nothing you can do. What must be, must be."
"But--" Lucy blurted, and the Lion shook his head.
"I am sorry."
And at the Stone Table, the Witch brought down her knife, stabbing Edmund through the heart...
Betrayal
The battle raged on. Friends and foes alike scattered the ground, bleeding or dying, or dead. If he looked up, he could see statues marking the path that the Witch had taken into their midst. Statues that had once been friends and allies. The great Lion was dead. They were losing...
The Witch's forces outnumbered theirs, and while they were fighting valiantly, he had to be realistic. There was very little chance they could win. And he really didn't want to die...
Peter ordered them back, into the hills to take up defensive positions, and as they ran, Peter's unicorn was shot out from under him. Edmund yelled, his heart suddenly in his throat as the enemy advanced on his brother; then suddenly Oreius galloped forward in defense of his king.
And then he was stone.
Edmund stared in horror as the Witch advanced, brandishing her wand. Something inside him just snapped. If it had to end, she wasn't the one who was going to do it. Guilt flooded him for a moment as he realized he had lied to Aslan -- but none of it had been his fault. She had misled him, tricked him, trapped him with enchanted candy. The closer she drew, the more he could feel her tug at him, until all at once, he gave in.
He saw the look of surprise on her face as he came up behind Peter, as he thrust the sword as hard as he could. He heard his brother's cry of pain, a soft gasp of "Why?" and then his brother fell to the ground.
Cries of "Betrayal!" rose from the army, and Edmund merely stood there, horrified by what he had done, staring at his brother's blood on his sword. The last thing he ever saw was the Lion cresting the hill and roaring, and then that mouth and those huge teeth were coming at him...
Greed 3
The battle was going badly. They were outnumbered, and their forces had already taken serious losses. The Witch's forces were so numerous that despite their own losses, they still kept coming. Peter ordered them to fall back, to take up their defensive positions in the hills. Even as he followed, his unicorn mount was shot out from under him.
Edmund cried out, seeing the Witch advancing on his brother, and something inside him snapped. He couldn't let her kill Peter -- he had to stop her, had to give him a fighting chance... He ran along the ridge until he was directly over her, then leapt, fully intending to shatter her wand and at the very least protect Peter from that horrible fate.
And somehow in his desperation, instead of shattering the wand, he found himself gripping its hilt and wrestling it from her.
Both boy-king and Witch stared at the wand, which flared star-bright for an instant. And then Edmund smiled up at her -- a frighteningly cold, hard smile -- and pierced her through the heart with her own weapon.
She smiled back at him and whispered something, the words curling from her mouth in a plume of frost, and as everyone watched in shock she slowly reached a hand out to cup Edmund's cheek, before she turned entirely to stone.
He shuddered and took a step back, the frosty mist of her last breaths coiling around him before it dissipated, making him shiver as if it were a winter's day.
Everything was still. There was no sound, no movement -- everyone was waiting. And then Edmund raised the wand and said, "The Witch is dead. The war is over! All of you lay down your weapons and cease your fighting!" His voice carried out across the hills and fields, and all who heard him shivered and lay down their weapons, and the fell beasts that had made up the Witch's army slunk back off to their lairs.
Then Edmund cleaned and sheathed his sword; turned and walked to his fallen brother, and held out his free hand. "Take my hand, Brother, and rise. We've won -- Narnia is free once more."
Peter took his hand and stood, then let him go quickly. "God, Ed, your fingers are freezing!" he said softly.
"Sorry..."
Just then Aslan strode forward with Susan and Lucy, and looked at the two brothers. "An interesting twist," he rumbled, and then he and the girls went among the fallen and he turned stone back to flesh and Lucy healed the wounded. In the end, only the Witch remained stone, her hand outstretched as if reaching out to hold something.
* * *
After the coronation and celebration, Edmund returned to his rooms and stared at the fur-wrapped packet on his bed. It was glowing softly through the fur, which meant it had to be blazing like a star once more, and he felt a shiver run through him as he reached out to pick it up.
The fur wrapping fell back, exposing the hilt of the wand, and he wrapped his hand around it and pulled it free, looked as closely as he could at it without touching the unprotected end of it. It looked exactly like a perfectly formed icicle, but it was surprisingly light and sturdy. He waved it around almost like a sword, and laughed at how easy it was to maneuver.
But after a few minutes of this, he noticed that the air in his rooms was noticeably cooler, and there seemed to be a bit of a mist rising from the gardens outside. He wrapped the wand up and put it away again, and shivered a little as he dressed for bed.
* * *
As they grew older, the Pevensies ruled Narnia fairly and kindly, although through some unspoken agreement, they always let Edmund handle matters involving the Witch's former allies. The creatures obeyed his decisions, although they would argue for hours if High King Peter suggested the same thing. All three of Edmund's siblings suspected the wand was behind it in some way, although Peter merely assumed that by disarming and killing the Witch, Edmund had earned their respect -- or at the very least, their fear.
After a few years, they realized that Edmund was miserable every summer -- heat affected him badly and made him cross and cranky, and while they and their court were outside playing in the warm sun, Edmund would sit indoors in the coolest room of the castle, and read. It was only during winter that he was truly happy and comfortable, and he would romp out in the snow for hours, never feeling the slightest chill despite his hands and face being ice cold when they finally coaxed him back indoors.
One autumn, they went on a long hunting trip, riding well up into the mountains of the north where the air was cool and crisp year round. Edmund was so enamoured of the area that he ordered a castle built, and soon planners and masons and builders were working on it. He didn't want anything as large or lavish as Cair Paravel, just something simple and comfortable. Although by the end of building, it was still far larger than the hunting lodges and other locations the siblings sometimes lived.
The castle was appointed in the royal blue and ice blue of Edmund's coronation robes, and fine crystal sculptures that looked like ice decorated the courtyard and great hall. Edmund lived there during the warm months, only returning to be with his siblings during the winter. And sometimes not even then.
All of the Pevensies knew something wasn't right -- and if one were bold enough to confront them on it, one might get them to admit that they knew exactly what was behind it all -- but none of them were willing to voice their worries. That would make them too real, and no one wanted to be the one to make what they feared a reality.
They tried to ignore the early snowfalls, and the sudden cold snaps in autumn; the late thaws and the colder temperatures of the rivers flowing from the north. When rumours of the gatherings of fell creatures around Edmund's castle reached them, they tried to put the blame on the wilderness of the northern lands and its closeness to the Giants' territory.
They could no longer ignore it, though, when Peter tried to negotiate a treaty with those beasts, and received a message back saying that they would deal with no one but the Winter King.
"The Winter King?" Susan gasped. "Who is the Winter King?!"
Peter merely sighed and shook his head, the murmured, "I had hoped it wouldn't come to this..." He rubbed a hand over his face, suddenly looking far older than his years, and stood. "We will need to meet with him, and hope that he still remembers a little of who he is."
* * *
All three of them rode out, Lucy and Susan refusing to stay behind because, as they said, he was their brother too. Peter found he didn't want to dissuade them, hoping that between Susan's gentle nature and Lucy's faith, Edmund might still be coaxed back to them. But he knew, deep within, as long as the wand remained intact, Edmund would remain lost.
When they saw Edmund, they barely recognized him. His skin had always been pale, but now it was so white it looked almost blue. His long black hair was sleek and shiny like a raven's wing, and he wore a silver crown capped by icy crystal spires. His robes were black with ice blue fur trim, and from the cut of them he only wore the fur for decoration. Despite the icy winds blowing through the hills, he looked as if he were riding out for a relaxing summer day.
The beast he rode was shaped like a horse, but Peter caught a glimpse of the fire that blazed in its eyes and licked along its mane and tail; the sparks that rose up with every beat of its hooves on the ground. He shivered as he realized it was a Nightmare. The company of warriors who rode out with him consisted of heavily armed Minotaurs, enormous white Tigers, and a pair of Polar Bears who Peter was sure had been the ones who pulled the Witch's chariot at the Battle of Beruna.
"Hail, Edmund!" Peter called out, waving.
"Hail, Peter!" Edmund answered, waving in return. Peter could see that the wand was strapped at his side like a sword, the icicle tip of it carefully sheathed to protect both Edmund and his mount. "To what do I owe this pleasure, High King," he asked, and there was a note of sarcasm in his tone that sent shivers down Peter's back.
"There are things we need to discuss, Brother. Laws to protect the freedom and safety of all Narnia."
Edmund laughed -- a cold, harsh sound -- and said, "Laws to protect the freedom and safety of all Narnia. Except that you seem to have neglected all of my subjects. And, my dear brother, they are also Narnians."
The beasts around him murmured their support and agreement, although it sounded more like a rising growl of anger, and Lucy found herself shivering, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. "Peter, we are not safe here..." she said softly, looking around nervously. In the cold mountains, night came early, and the woods around them were dark already. There were things in those woods, eyes glowing malevolently at them...
"Yes, Edmund, they are also Narnians. I never meant to neglect them, but..."
"But you did. And where the White Queen saw to their protection and rights before, so I see to these matters now. If you are unwilling to allow them the same freedoms you allow the rest of Narnia, we have nothing more to say to each other." He turned his steed away, and Peter saw his hand edge ever so slowly closer to the hilt of the wand.
"Edmund, wait!" Lucy called, fear in her voice. Susan was looking around them in terror, her horse already stamping and pulling at the reins, wanting to flee as the Tigers edged closer.
"I'm sorry, Lu," Edmund said softly. "I wish it hadn't come to this..."
It was almost as if the entire world slowed. Peter saw him move for the wand, saw the Nightmare begin to wheel even as Edmund drew that piece of deadly ice. He drew his own sword and galloped forward, some small hope in his mind that he could reach Edmund and destroy the wand before it was too late -- and yet he knew they were surrounded, and that their own force was far too small to defend against that many beasts. They had come here to try to save their brother, and they would die alongside him...
The last thing he remembered was Edmund's steed charging towards him, a flash of sorrow in Edmund's eyes -- and then everything was gone in an explosion of snow and ice...
g_shadowslayer)Title: Five Ways Edmund Pevensie Was Never Redeemed
Rating: R for addiction references and violence
Character/Pairing/Group: Edmund Pevensie
Fandom: Chronicles of Narnia - The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe
Word Count: 5543 total (1102 for part 1, 670 part 2, 1596 part 3, 318 part 4, and 1857 part 5)
Warnings: This could be considered darkfic. I refuse to spoil things in the warnings, but look at the title and think about it for a few minutes. If you know how Edmund was redeemed, you can probably come up with some things that would keep it from happening. Keep this in mind if you plan to read it. These are not happy fluffy fics. Note: If you whine to me after reading this warning and then reading the story anyway, I will ignore you or get snarky.
Notes: Written for
5_neversSpoilers: If you've been living under a rock and have never read the book (or seen the movie), parts of it are referenced in here.
Disclaimer: Walden Media, Disney, and the Lewis estate aside, C.S.Lewis himself said, "Why not write stories for yourself to fill up the gaps in Narnian history? I've left you plenty of hints -- especially where Lucy and the Unicorn are talking in The Last Battle. I feel I have done all I can!"
by Penemuel
Greed 1
By the time he and Lucy returned through the wardrobe, Edmund was nauseous from not just eating too many sweets, but from the magic in the Witch's Turkish Delight. He didn't know this was what was wrong, so when being sick didn't make him feel any better, he became cross and sulky and more of a nuisance than he had been before. He was cruel to Lucy, and sulked when Peter and Susan tried to find ways to keep them all occupied. And he wanted, more than anything else, to get back to Narnia so he could see the Witch again and get more of that delicious Turkish Delight.
He didn't know how he could talk them into going, though, after he had pretended it was all a sham on Lucy's part -- he couldn't go back on what he had said without seeming like a right bastard, and he wasn't willing to do that yet. But he wanted it -- needed it -- so badly that it seemed to be the only thing he could think of.
And when breakfast and dinner and supper all tasted like ash on his tongue, he forced himself to choke down enough food to keep himself from fainting, but very little more. But soon, even that became too much effort, and he stopped coming down for meals. At first the others thought he was just being difficult, and Peter had shaken his head and told them, "Don't play into his hands, he's just doing it for attention." But as Edmund grew weaker and more pale, even Lucy let go her anger at him and defended him, and his older brother had to admit there was something wrong.
"Ed, tell us what it is -- we want to help," he said softly, sitting at his brother's bedside. The dark circles under his eyes, the way they no longer sparkled with life and emotion -- even when that emotion had just been anger -- it frightened him and Peter knew something was gravely wrong. He took one of Edmund's hands and gently squeezed, then whispered, "Please, Ed?"
"I lied," Edmund whispered, meeting his eyes and shaking his head. "Lucy was telling the truth -- it's real."
There was a soft gasp from the door, and Peter looked up sharply to see Lucy standing there, her expressive eyes wide with shock. "You met the Witch!" she cried with sudden realization. "You met the Witch and she did something horrible to you!"
"She gave me something to eat and drink," Edmund said, his voice a shaky whisper. "Some kind of hot chocolatey something, and Turkish Delight..."
"Oh Ed..." Peter said softly, knowing how the dessert was his brother's weakness.
At the same time, Lucy blurted, "You never eat the magical food, Ed! That's how they trap you!"
"Do you think I don't know that now, Lu?" he asked, his voice cracking as a tear rolled down his sunken cheek. "I can't eat anything -- I need it..."
And Lucy rushed to his bedside and took his other hand, squeezed it gently and said, "I'll get some for you, Ed. Just like Lizzie in 'Goblin Market' -- I'll make that horrid Witch give me some and it'll cure you!"
"Oh Lu, that's just a faerie tale," Peter said gently, "just a story..."
"There's a doorway to another world in the wardrobe, Peter," she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "It's not just a faerie tale!"
"It's too far," Edmund said weakly. "Her house is too far from the wardrobe. You'll never make it there on your own."
"She won't be going on her own, Ed," Peter reassured him. "If there's even the slightest chance that this might work, I'm going with her. We'll fight our way to the Witch's house if we have to, but I'm not going to just let you die!"
"What's going on?" Edmund looked up, startled by his older sister's sudden appearance in the doorway.
Peter and Lucy looked up, too, and Peter said, "You stay here with Edmund -- we'll be back as soon as possible!" and before she could even ask what was going on, they were rushing from the room and Edmund was sinking back into the pillows, exhausted by even that small amount of activity.
"Ed?" Susan asked, and he shook his head and sighed wearily. She tried to force a smile and ended up having to bite her lip to keep from crying. "Oh Ed, tell me they're going to fix this..."
"They're going to get themselves killed trying..." he whispered, just before he drifted into unconsciousness.
Lucy and Peter hurried to the wardrobe and pushed their way in, Peter's face lighting up with surprise and hope as they emerged into the snowy wood. But as they hurried forward, a soft sound startled them, off to one side and slightly behind, and Peter whirled, grabbed up a heavy stick and stared in horror at the creatures closing in around them.
"What do we have here?" a cold voice rang through the air, and some of the creatures stepped back enough to allow a tall, pale woman clad in furs to approach the children. "Son of Adam and Daughter of Eve -- but where is your brother Edmund, and your other sister?" she asked, stepping close enough to cup Peter's chin.
"Our sister is at home with Ed, and you're a horrible witch!" Lucy shrieked, rushing at her and trying to push her away from Peter.
"Goodness, what a fierce little creature," the Witch said as Lucy shoved at her. "And tell me, little girl, how does your brother fare? He was supposed to bring you all to me, here..."
"You're killing him, you awful person!" Lucy shrieked, hitting the Witch with her little fists.
And the Witch arched a pale eyebrow and smiled a humourless smile. "Am I, now? Isn't that a shame..." Then she looked down into Peter's shocked face, brought up her wand, and pierced him through the heart with it.
As he fell, he turned to stone, and Lucy screamed. "Noooo!"
Already the Witch was pulling her wand free, ignoring the distraught girl. She turned and walked back through the woods to her sledge, motioning to the other creatures. "The girl is yours. Do with her as you will -- with both boys dead, there can be no prophecy. And keep guard here until the other girl comes looking for them -- you can have her, too. I'm going to the Stone Table to claim my right as true Queen..."
Greed 2
Edmund shivered as he walked through the great hall of the castle. The Witch was nowhere to be seen, and he seemed to be alone, so he made his way to the fur-covered throne and climbed the dais. As he tugged at some of the furs to use to cover his knees, he heard a small clink against the ice of the throne. Something cold and hard slithered along the fur and almost fell on the cold floor, but he caught it before it could -- it was the vial the Witch had used to create her magical food and drink.
Holding it up, he grinned broadly in the pale blue light that surrounded him, and was about to unstopper it when the Witch came up before him and asked, "Like it?" Startled, he managed to palm the vial and leapt out of the throne, looking a little frightened and cowed.
"Yes, your majesty!" he said, shoving his hands into his pockets to try and warm them, surreptitiously slipping the vial in as he did.
"I thought you might..." she purred, then she questioned him about why the others had not come with him. He had to think quickly to give her answers that didn't anger her too much, but as she had him taken off to the dungeons and sent her wolves after the others, Edmund realized he was in more than a bit of trouble.
As the Faun was taken away, Edmund shivered and stuck his hands in his pockets once more, trying desperately to warm them, and blinked as he encountered the cool vial. He had almost forgotten about it in the face of his predicament. But now that the Witch and her dwarf were gone, he grinned and studied the vial for a long moment. Already his mouth was watering, and his fingers twitched with eagerness as he pulled the stopper out of the vial.
Thinking of nothing but Turkish Delight, he tilted the vial, pouring one large drop of the potion out of it onto the icy ground. It splashed as it hit, and suddenly there was a large silver box wrapped in a green ribbon, just like the first one the Witch had made for him. "It worked!" he breathed, surprised and eager. His mouth was already watering, and he barely retained the presence of mind to stopper the vial and slide it into his pocket again before he dove in, devouring most of the box in minutes.
Sweet, delicious, wonderful Turkish Delight -- it tasted so good, and yet he didn't feel full at all. Instead, he was starving, craving more and more. He let another drop fall from the vial, half afraid that the Witch had been telling the truth about not being able to use it twice in a row, and almost crowed in triumph when a second box appeared.
Three boxes later, he was beginning to feel very ill, and yet he was starving for it, desperate for more. He frowned at the vial, held it up to look at it in the pale light, trying to find some kind of hint as to what was wrong. Although part of him knew what was wrong and didn't want to admit it -- he knew he was under some kind of enchantment, and it was obvious from the way the Witch had acted that she had intended to enslave him all along...
And he still couldn't stop himself, he realized, as he opened the next box and dove in...
When the Witch and her servant returned to the dungeon, they found him sprawled on the icy floor, empty boxes of Turkish Delight scattered around his body and the empty vial clutched in one hand. The Witch looked down with cool disdain and prodded him with her foot. "Foolish little boy. Not a king, just a slave... A dead slave." Then she turned to her servant and ordered, "Clean this disgusting mess up," and swept out of the dungeon without another look.
Pride
He was tied to the tree and gagged, and that disgusting little dwarf kept pawing him, leaning into his face and teasing him, and he wanted so badly to get away from it, to kick it until it screamed and begged for mercy. How dare they treat him like this after telling him how important he was to Narnia? Finally, as the night grew dark, he dozed, exhaustion claiming him.
He awoke when someone untied him and hauled him off the ground in strong arms; his first instinct was to cry out and demand to be let go, but a large hand clapped over his mouth and smothered the sound, and then there was galloping and the world rushed by in a blur, woods giving way to grassy hills and finally what seemed to be a war encampment. And then the centaur put him down and bade him sit and rest, and Aslan would speak with him soon. He was too exhausted to keep his eyes open, and curled up on the warm grass and finally slept, too tired, even, to dream.
The soft sound of padding feet woke him, and he looked up to see an enormous lion looking down at him. Terror shot through him and he scrambled to his feet, looking around for a way to escape the giant beast, when a deep voice said, "Son of Adam, do not fear me."
"You -- talk?" he asked, incredulous. And then he realized, this must be Aslan. And the terror in him grew as the Lion met his gaze and looked deep.
"You know who I am, Son of Adam. What do you have to say about your actions?"
"She tricked me! I had no way of knowing who or what she was, and she lied to me!" he said, uncomfortable under the Lion's scrutiny. "She said she would make me a King and instead she just wanted to enslave and use me..."
And the Lion frowned, then softly said, "You saw yourself as King, ruling over this land and your own family, making yourself better than them. What makes you believe you are better than your siblings, Son of Adam?"
"I'm not--" and yet, in the back of his mind he thought that of course he was. After all, Peter was always being so high and mighty, but he wasn't their father and he had no right bossing them around. And Susan always thought she was smarter than everyone, and Lucy -- Lucy got everything, just because she was the youngest... He frowned, then lifted his chin and looked into those golden eyes. "Maybe I am. I'm just as important to Narnia as any one of them, after all."
And then the Lion sighed, and his deep voice rumbled across the hillside, "Foolish prideful boy. You seal your own fate -- there is nothing I can do..." and he turned and walked away.
Edmund stood on the hillside, staring after him for a long moment, wondering exactly what that was supposed to mean. And then he saw the others, gathered at the side of one of the tents; frowned as he saw Aslan stop before them and tell them something. But the girls seemed glad to see him, and he jogged down the hill to join them, happiness beginning to return as they hugged.
And then he turned to look at Peter, and saw his brother frowning at him.
"How could you do it, Ed?" he asked softly, trying not to accuse and not quite succeeding. "How could you sell out your own family to the Witch?"
"I didn't know what she was! I met her before Lucy told us!"
"And you went back to her afterwards..."
"You can't possibly know what it was like, what she did to me," he said crossly. "But instead of asking me, you just have a go at me..."
"Ed-- I'm sorry. I didn't think. Are you all right?" Peter asked, his expression sad. He had hoped his ordeal might have changed Edmund, but he seemed just as difficult as ever.
"She lured me in with promises and enchanted food, then she tied me up and let that horrid dwarf of hers paw at me -- and your Aslan hasn't done anything to even try to break the spell," he answered. "No, I'm not all right. I want to go lie down now." And as he walked off, Peter watched him go, then looked in the direction Aslan had headed. He didn't like the way this felt -- something was very wrong...
They all gathered, staring in horror as the Witch entered the camp, demanding to speak with Aslan. Edmund swallowed hard, struggling with the urge to run as the pale, imposing figure climbed off her litter and strode forward, her icy gaze sweeping the camp and landing on him.
"You have a traitor in your midst, Aslan," she said, and Edmund inwardly cringed at the hushed gasp that came from all sides. He could feel everyone's eyes on him; once again could feel them all judging him without knowing the full story.
"His offence was not against you," Aslan rumbled, and Edmund felt a small glimmer of hope.
"Have you forgotten the laws upon which Narnia was built?" the Witch asked, her red lips curving in a cruel smile as she watched Edmund's face fall.
"Do not cite the Deep Magic to me, Witch! I was there when it was written," Aslan growled.
"Then you'll remember well that every traitor belongs to me. His blood is my property," the Witch said, and Edmund could feel Lucy and Susan shaking their heads; looking at him in horror. And surprisingly, Peter stepped forward and drew his sword.
"Try and take him then," he cried, glowering fiercely at her.
And she sneered down at him and asked, "Do you think that mere force can deny me my right, little king? Aslan knows that unless I have blood as the law demands, all of Narnia will be overturned and perish in fire and water. That boy," she said, pointing at Edmund, "will die on the Stone Table, as is tradition. You dare not refuse me."
And the lion sighed, a deep rumble, and said, "He has not repented his actions. I can do nothing." He looked sadly at Lucy and Susan, then fixed his golden gaze on Edmund. "The boy is yours, Jadis. Take him and begone."
"What?!" Edmund cried.
"No! You can't!" Susan whispered, looking at Aslan. The sadness in his eyes spoke volumes, and she turned to look at Edmund. "Oh Ed..."
Lucy was crying and Peter had his arms wrapped around her while he looked over at Edmund, his expression grim. "Ed..."
"But I--" Edmund blurted, but the Witch's companions stepped forward and bound him easily, despite his struggles; lifted him and carried him away. The Witch surveyed them all with her cold gaze, lingering on Peter's shattered expression, then she smiled cruelly.
"It is such a shame the prophecy will never come to pass," she purred, then turned and walked from the camp.
As soon as she left, everyone burst into a frenzy of activity. Peter handed Lucy off to Susan and ran after Aslan, who walked back to his tent, his great head hanging low. "Wait!" Peter cried. "You can't just let her take him!"
The great Lion turned back and fixed him with a golden stare, and Peter was shocked at the sadness in those eyes. "It is done, Son of Adam. I forgot that sometimes a Son of Adam is also a Son of Cain..."
"But--"
"There is nothing I can do."
They crept over the hill and stopped when they could see the Witch's army, monsters and fell creatures, all gathered around a great Stone Table. At one end, two enormous stones stood at the top of a stepped dais, with a great capstone across them. The Witch appeared between them and slowly made her way down the steps towards the table. "Behold, the traitor," she cried, and her Minotaur general prodded Edmund forward with his axe.
"No!" Susan hissed, but Peter held a finger up to his lips. "But there are too many of them -- how can we hope to stop them?" she asked softly.
"I don't know..."
"And Aslan said it had to happen -- she said Narnia would fall..."
"It's going to fall anyway, if we can't fulfill the Prophecy," Peter said quietly.
And then they heard laughter from the Stone Table, saw the creatures kicking and hitting Edmund, and Lucy gasped. "Why doesn't he fight back?"
"He's bewitched," Susan said, frowning.
"Bind him!" the Witch's voice rang out, and the dwarf who was her servant bustled forward to do so, eagerly. They could see Edmund struggling weakly, trying to bat the dwarf's hands away, but in no time he was bound in harsh black ropes and dragged onto the Stone Table, arms stretched wide and ankles tied together.
"Stop them!" Lucy begged Peter, who stared in horror.
"There are too many... we can't hope to get through them all in time," he said, his voice cracking with emotion. "There's nothing we can do!"
"Look away, children," a familiar voice rumbled behind them. They all turned to find Aslan standing on the hillside just below them. "There is nothing you can do. What must be, must be."
"But--" Lucy blurted, and the Lion shook his head.
"I am sorry."
And at the Stone Table, the Witch brought down her knife, stabbing Edmund through the heart...
Betrayal
The battle raged on. Friends and foes alike scattered the ground, bleeding or dying, or dead. If he looked up, he could see statues marking the path that the Witch had taken into their midst. Statues that had once been friends and allies. The great Lion was dead. They were losing...
The Witch's forces outnumbered theirs, and while they were fighting valiantly, he had to be realistic. There was very little chance they could win. And he really didn't want to die...
Peter ordered them back, into the hills to take up defensive positions, and as they ran, Peter's unicorn was shot out from under him. Edmund yelled, his heart suddenly in his throat as the enemy advanced on his brother; then suddenly Oreius galloped forward in defense of his king.
And then he was stone.
Edmund stared in horror as the Witch advanced, brandishing her wand. Something inside him just snapped. If it had to end, she wasn't the one who was going to do it. Guilt flooded him for a moment as he realized he had lied to Aslan -- but none of it had been his fault. She had misled him, tricked him, trapped him with enchanted candy. The closer she drew, the more he could feel her tug at him, until all at once, he gave in.
He saw the look of surprise on her face as he came up behind Peter, as he thrust the sword as hard as he could. He heard his brother's cry of pain, a soft gasp of "Why?" and then his brother fell to the ground.
Cries of "Betrayal!" rose from the army, and Edmund merely stood there, horrified by what he had done, staring at his brother's blood on his sword. The last thing he ever saw was the Lion cresting the hill and roaring, and then that mouth and those huge teeth were coming at him...
Greed 3
The battle was going badly. They were outnumbered, and their forces had already taken serious losses. The Witch's forces were so numerous that despite their own losses, they still kept coming. Peter ordered them to fall back, to take up their defensive positions in the hills. Even as he followed, his unicorn mount was shot out from under him.
Edmund cried out, seeing the Witch advancing on his brother, and something inside him snapped. He couldn't let her kill Peter -- he had to stop her, had to give him a fighting chance... He ran along the ridge until he was directly over her, then leapt, fully intending to shatter her wand and at the very least protect Peter from that horrible fate.
And somehow in his desperation, instead of shattering the wand, he found himself gripping its hilt and wrestling it from her.
Both boy-king and Witch stared at the wand, which flared star-bright for an instant. And then Edmund smiled up at her -- a frighteningly cold, hard smile -- and pierced her through the heart with her own weapon.
She smiled back at him and whispered something, the words curling from her mouth in a plume of frost, and as everyone watched in shock she slowly reached a hand out to cup Edmund's cheek, before she turned entirely to stone.
He shuddered and took a step back, the frosty mist of her last breaths coiling around him before it dissipated, making him shiver as if it were a winter's day.
Everything was still. There was no sound, no movement -- everyone was waiting. And then Edmund raised the wand and said, "The Witch is dead. The war is over! All of you lay down your weapons and cease your fighting!" His voice carried out across the hills and fields, and all who heard him shivered and lay down their weapons, and the fell beasts that had made up the Witch's army slunk back off to their lairs.
Then Edmund cleaned and sheathed his sword; turned and walked to his fallen brother, and held out his free hand. "Take my hand, Brother, and rise. We've won -- Narnia is free once more."
Peter took his hand and stood, then let him go quickly. "God, Ed, your fingers are freezing!" he said softly.
"Sorry..."
Just then Aslan strode forward with Susan and Lucy, and looked at the two brothers. "An interesting twist," he rumbled, and then he and the girls went among the fallen and he turned stone back to flesh and Lucy healed the wounded. In the end, only the Witch remained stone, her hand outstretched as if reaching out to hold something.
After the coronation and celebration, Edmund returned to his rooms and stared at the fur-wrapped packet on his bed. It was glowing softly through the fur, which meant it had to be blazing like a star once more, and he felt a shiver run through him as he reached out to pick it up.
The fur wrapping fell back, exposing the hilt of the wand, and he wrapped his hand around it and pulled it free, looked as closely as he could at it without touching the unprotected end of it. It looked exactly like a perfectly formed icicle, but it was surprisingly light and sturdy. He waved it around almost like a sword, and laughed at how easy it was to maneuver.
But after a few minutes of this, he noticed that the air in his rooms was noticeably cooler, and there seemed to be a bit of a mist rising from the gardens outside. He wrapped the wand up and put it away again, and shivered a little as he dressed for bed.
As they grew older, the Pevensies ruled Narnia fairly and kindly, although through some unspoken agreement, they always let Edmund handle matters involving the Witch's former allies. The creatures obeyed his decisions, although they would argue for hours if High King Peter suggested the same thing. All three of Edmund's siblings suspected the wand was behind it in some way, although Peter merely assumed that by disarming and killing the Witch, Edmund had earned their respect -- or at the very least, their fear.
After a few years, they realized that Edmund was miserable every summer -- heat affected him badly and made him cross and cranky, and while they and their court were outside playing in the warm sun, Edmund would sit indoors in the coolest room of the castle, and read. It was only during winter that he was truly happy and comfortable, and he would romp out in the snow for hours, never feeling the slightest chill despite his hands and face being ice cold when they finally coaxed him back indoors.
One autumn, they went on a long hunting trip, riding well up into the mountains of the north where the air was cool and crisp year round. Edmund was so enamoured of the area that he ordered a castle built, and soon planners and masons and builders were working on it. He didn't want anything as large or lavish as Cair Paravel, just something simple and comfortable. Although by the end of building, it was still far larger than the hunting lodges and other locations the siblings sometimes lived.
The castle was appointed in the royal blue and ice blue of Edmund's coronation robes, and fine crystal sculptures that looked like ice decorated the courtyard and great hall. Edmund lived there during the warm months, only returning to be with his siblings during the winter. And sometimes not even then.
All of the Pevensies knew something wasn't right -- and if one were bold enough to confront them on it, one might get them to admit that they knew exactly what was behind it all -- but none of them were willing to voice their worries. That would make them too real, and no one wanted to be the one to make what they feared a reality.
They tried to ignore the early snowfalls, and the sudden cold snaps in autumn; the late thaws and the colder temperatures of the rivers flowing from the north. When rumours of the gatherings of fell creatures around Edmund's castle reached them, they tried to put the blame on the wilderness of the northern lands and its closeness to the Giants' territory.
They could no longer ignore it, though, when Peter tried to negotiate a treaty with those beasts, and received a message back saying that they would deal with no one but the Winter King.
"The Winter King?" Susan gasped. "Who is the Winter King?!"
Peter merely sighed and shook his head, the murmured, "I had hoped it wouldn't come to this..." He rubbed a hand over his face, suddenly looking far older than his years, and stood. "We will need to meet with him, and hope that he still remembers a little of who he is."
All three of them rode out, Lucy and Susan refusing to stay behind because, as they said, he was their brother too. Peter found he didn't want to dissuade them, hoping that between Susan's gentle nature and Lucy's faith, Edmund might still be coaxed back to them. But he knew, deep within, as long as the wand remained intact, Edmund would remain lost.
When they saw Edmund, they barely recognized him. His skin had always been pale, but now it was so white it looked almost blue. His long black hair was sleek and shiny like a raven's wing, and he wore a silver crown capped by icy crystal spires. His robes were black with ice blue fur trim, and from the cut of them he only wore the fur for decoration. Despite the icy winds blowing through the hills, he looked as if he were riding out for a relaxing summer day.
The beast he rode was shaped like a horse, but Peter caught a glimpse of the fire that blazed in its eyes and licked along its mane and tail; the sparks that rose up with every beat of its hooves on the ground. He shivered as he realized it was a Nightmare. The company of warriors who rode out with him consisted of heavily armed Minotaurs, enormous white Tigers, and a pair of Polar Bears who Peter was sure had been the ones who pulled the Witch's chariot at the Battle of Beruna.
"Hail, Edmund!" Peter called out, waving.
"Hail, Peter!" Edmund answered, waving in return. Peter could see that the wand was strapped at his side like a sword, the icicle tip of it carefully sheathed to protect both Edmund and his mount. "To what do I owe this pleasure, High King," he asked, and there was a note of sarcasm in his tone that sent shivers down Peter's back.
"There are things we need to discuss, Brother. Laws to protect the freedom and safety of all Narnia."
Edmund laughed -- a cold, harsh sound -- and said, "Laws to protect the freedom and safety of all Narnia. Except that you seem to have neglected all of my subjects. And, my dear brother, they are also Narnians."
The beasts around him murmured their support and agreement, although it sounded more like a rising growl of anger, and Lucy found herself shivering, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. "Peter, we are not safe here..." she said softly, looking around nervously. In the cold mountains, night came early, and the woods around them were dark already. There were things in those woods, eyes glowing malevolently at them...
"Yes, Edmund, they are also Narnians. I never meant to neglect them, but..."
"But you did. And where the White Queen saw to their protection and rights before, so I see to these matters now. If you are unwilling to allow them the same freedoms you allow the rest of Narnia, we have nothing more to say to each other." He turned his steed away, and Peter saw his hand edge ever so slowly closer to the hilt of the wand.
"Edmund, wait!" Lucy called, fear in her voice. Susan was looking around them in terror, her horse already stamping and pulling at the reins, wanting to flee as the Tigers edged closer.
"I'm sorry, Lu," Edmund said softly. "I wish it hadn't come to this..."
It was almost as if the entire world slowed. Peter saw him move for the wand, saw the Nightmare begin to wheel even as Edmund drew that piece of deadly ice. He drew his own sword and galloped forward, some small hope in his mind that he could reach Edmund and destroy the wand before it was too late -- and yet he knew they were surrounded, and that their own force was far too small to defend against that many beasts. They had come here to try to save their brother, and they would die alongside him...
The last thing he remembered was Edmund's steed charging towards him, a flash of sorrow in Edmund's eyes -- and then everything was gone in an explosion of snow and ice...