Razors to My Heart
by Lirulin
Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing, only my experiences that are in here somewhere, at least a bit. It's all property of C.S. Lewis and the movie-makers of Prince Caspian. Not even the title is mine, it's a modified quote from Shakespeare's Titus Andronicus.
Author's Notes: This could be seen as a companion piece to my other story, Resilient Fealty, because it deals with mostly the same topics, but now from Peter's point of view.
I was watching Prince Caspian, and after the raid on the castle, back at the How, there was one shot that triggered this story. They had just lowered Trumpkin to the ground and you could see Edmund's back and Peter in the background. There was an instant when Edmund looked up and it appeared as if he was looking at Peter. I took this and built the story around it.
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I don't know what is going on around me anymore. It's as if I am completely detached from myself, as if there is a part of me that is observing this would-be High King from the outside. I don't recognise this person any longer. What have I turned into? That cannot be me, I've never been like this before. . .
The more I want to be in control, the more it escapes from my grasp. Just now, I feel as if I am plunged into a dark, endless ocean, with no land in sight and slowly but surely drowning in it. And it is ironically my own fault that my only means of safety is out of reach because I have pushed it away constantly . . .
I look at him and his gaze is almost unbearable, even more so because I can see no blame in it. Just this profound sadness that cuts me deeper than any accusation ever could. I avert my eyes, I can't endure what I see in Edmund's face.
What have I done? This is all my fault. They all died because I had to assure myself that I was still in charge and had to force my will through at all costs, never thinking about the consequences.
Why did no one stop me? Well, that's really a redundant question, I wouldn't have listened to anyone. As much as I hate it, I have to admit that the time in Narnia since our return has been nothing but a disaster. No, the whole last year was a disaster. Everything simply slipped away from me, there was noting I could hold on to and I believe my emotions got completely out of hand.
Somehow, I really admire Edmund . . . and I somewhat envy him. How does he do it, taking everything in his stride, the ridiculous treatment we are subjected to in England, the adults' arrogance and our loss of independence, all the while retaining his dignity and equanimity? At times, he appeared so royal and kingly to me in our drab and dull English surroundings that, comparing myself to him, I felt nothing but shame and failure, and I could then barely stand to be in his presence.
I know very well that I was more than cruel towards Edmund in those instances, but I felt so inferior next to him, as if I had failed him, Lucy, Susan and everyone else a hunderd times over. Point in fact, I still feel like this.
And it is even worse since we are in Narnia again. Edmund is the hero who can accurately assess our situation, supports and consoles Lucy, encourages Susan, bonds with Trumpkin and generally rallies everyone's spirit while still managing to be loyal to me and protect me, even though I am doing nothing but leading us in the wrong direction.
Compared to him, I am only a little boy who plays at being High King, all the while sinking deeper and deeper into confusion, anger, disquiet and despair. I just feel so inadequate next to him, as if I am constantly messing everything up. I know I am being unreasonable, and I am probably hurting him quite a lot, but I can't do anything about it. Incidentally, his unwavering loyalty only adds insult to injury because it makes me even more miserable than I already am.
Every time he jumps into another fight my uncontrollable temper has started, every time he tries to talk to me and I rebuff him again is a stab to my heart. It's like I am torn in two. I want to have him near me, but it is impossible because I can't help having all of my failings, errors and my guilt thrown into sharp relief when he is. So I push him away, an action that then only adds to my already present guilt. It's a horrible vicious circle and I don't know how to get out of it.
Now, I have to try making the best of the worst situation I could ever have imagined. I am responsible for scores of deaths, I cannot close my eyes to the harsh truth any longer, even though I tried assigning the blame to Caspian only minutes ago. Denial is probably one of the most destructive mental mechanisms that can grip you, I would have attacked him without a second thought had Edmund's voice not managed to penetrate the haze in my mind and stopped me.
I am well and truly starting to become afraid of myself. What am I going to do next? Striking out at my allies, my friends, my siblings? I cannot let that happen, I cannot let them down again. I have to do everything in my power to right things again, to save Narnia . . .
But that is the crux, isn't it? How much power do I have? What can I do to help them, to remedy what I have done? Lucy said to remember who truly defeated the White Witch. I know who did, and that is my problem. Where is Aslan? I know what he is capable of, I know he has the power to turn the tide with only a word.
So, why isn't he here? Why does he not help us? Why can I not see him when I need him the most? Doesn't he care for me any longer? Doesn't it matter to him that I am falling, crying out with no one noticing it? Doesn't he see my pain, doesn't he hear my soul screaming for just a little sign from him?
Does he still love me?
I feel so lost without his guidance, somewhere along the way I must have walked of the path he had in mind for me and now I don't know how to get back onto it. Every step seems to be wrong and leading me further away from him, and it is agonising to not feel our connection anymore. And so, everything I do and decide just causes my mountains of guilt and self-loathing to grow.
But I can't break down now. Even though I am completely disoriented, the Narnians are still looking to me for guidance, and I cannot forget them, I have to try to be strong for them.
I glance at Edmund again, he is still over there with Lucy, next to Trumpkin. There is the one person who means the world to me, and the one person who is at the moment furthest away from me. I need him so much, but I am simply incapable of reaching out to him. Something inside of me is frozen, it seems as if I cannot move in his direction at all. There is a huge wall between us, one that I don't know how to break through. And it hurts so much. . .
I can feel tears gathering behind my eyes, but I cannot afford to let them fall now, much as I would like to free myself of all these pent-up emotions. I have to present a strong front to those who were forced to experience so much grief and sorrow in just one night, and who nevertheless still seem to look up to me. I cannot disappoint them again, although I have no idea what I am supposed to do now.
And as long as I am that insecure, I don't want to have anyone close enough to realise I am only wearing a mask. I could not bear for anyone to notice that I am practically torn apart on the inside, especially not Edmund who would most likely see through me in an instant.
I only hope he will be able to forgive me if I manage to find back to myself some day.
The End
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So, I hope you liked it. Please tell me what you think about it, I found it quite difficult to get into movie-Peter's head. And as a last sidenote: this is just Peter's perception of the truth, not necessarily the reality. We all know that Edmund also has his faults and is not as perfect as Peter paints him here. :)
