Disclaimer: I'd love to possess at least a whit of CS Lewis' genius, but sadly, neither Edmund nor Narnia belongs to me. –sadface–
"Gentlemen, we will have a composition test today," announces the stern-faced schoolmaster. He is greeted by groans and jeers from his usually unresponsive pupils. Only Pevensie sits still, silently awaiting what is to come.
The master notes this change in behavior distastefully, inwardly suspecting something amiss. Nothing good can come out of Pevensie, much less when he is looking so angelic, he thinks. I remember his cheating last term all too well. He raps the table warningly to quell the collective dissent, before distributing the paper. Soon, the rustling of paper replaces the boys' protests.
Edmund receives the writing paper as it is passed down the row. He is determined to carry himself as a King in England as he was in Narnia. He will show to others that he has changed his ways, even though one too many are skeptical of his present conduct. He catches the master's wary eye just before the adult turns to face the blackboard.
"What is love?"
Three short words are scrawled across the dusty blackboard in white chalk. The composition topic surprises Edmund in its brevity, yet amazes him in its depth. The boys beside him murmur mockingly at the word "love" and its supposedly girlish connotations, reminding Edmund of their ignorance. A whirl of images runs through his mind as he comprehends the question.
What is love?
Was it the heartbreaking tenderness in his mother's eyes as she tearfully bid her children goodbye at the train station? Was it why she made the decision to send them somewhere safe, although she was so unwilling to part? Or was it his father's gruff hug, conveying so many unspoken words as he engulfed his family in a smothering khaki embrace, before he stepped out of the door, out of their lives?
What is love?
Was it Peter's desperate plea for him to bring Susan and Lucy back to England, should he fail to emerge victorious against the White Witch? Was it the absolute trust and forgiveness Lucy had shown him when they were reunited? Was it the reason for his siblings' persistence to rescue him, even though he tried to sell them all for Turkish Delight?
What is love?
Was it the abstract thing that he could not understand, the thing that made a stream of young noblemen come flocking to their court seeking the hand of the Gentle Queen? Was it Susan's many refusals and lengthy explanations about waiting for "the right one"?
What is love?
Was it that immense feeling of pride he felt as he surveyed his shared kingdom from the tallest tower in the Cair? Was it the deep gladness in him as he looked upon the happy, honest faces of people he ruled and cared for? Was it the smile that unknowingly spread across his face as he gazed fondly at the Western Woods crowned in its golden evening splendour?
What is love?
Edmund draws in his breath softly as a great tawny Lion appears in his mind's eye, magnificent and glorious. Gazing into the golden depths of the Lion's eyes, Edmund is flooded by memories, clear as yesterday. He remembers the talk on the rock with Narnia's Creator, one he will never forget. He thinks of the Lion's unbelievable sacrifice for him on the Stone Table, taking the place that should have been his. He thinks of the price behind his transformation from a doomed traitor to a Just King. He thinks of a Lion's breath upon him, giving him courage, washing his guilt away. And an incredible joy he never feels anywhere else.
Yes, this is love.
Edmund lowers his pen, and writes.
