Disclaimer: Nope, not mine, much though I wish it was!

Author's note: This is not an AU. It is simply something that may have happened to Edmund the night Aslan died.

Also, I am a Christian. This impacts how I see the CoN and also influences my writing. If you don't agree and/or don't like the results, you're welc0me to say so nicely, so please don't flame me!

This New Life

Edmund woke with a start. He quickly looked around the tent he shared with Peter to see who woken him. He could see the outline of Peter's sleeping form. Suddenly, inexplicably restless, he stirred. He rose slowly, quietly, to his feet. Glancing briefly at Peter again, he left the tent and wandered to the edge of the camp. It must have been close to midnight. Suddenly he collapsed. Something was wrong. Something was about to happen – to him. At least it would happen before the battle, not during it. Thoughts of the battle made him shudder with dread as he lay facedown on the ground. Although he had pledged himself to fight the evil he had helped bring on Narnia, he was still drawn to it. He still cherished the very thing he had come to hate the most. He did not want to see it destroyed. He feared what such feelings might drive him to do during the battle.

Edmund heard a chillingly familiar voice in his mind. "Despair," it said, though apparently not talking to him. "And die." Suddenly, he jerked and screamed as he felt a knife stab into his met. Tears of pain streamed down his face. He had never realized so much pain could exist. It made no sense. He was alone. No one could reach his chest, even if someone had been there. That was when he noticed that something inside him had died. All feelings were gone. He could not will himself to even move so much as a finger. It was not as bad as it could have been. At least he could not be afraid since his feelings had vanished.

Something rustled beside him. "Your Majesty?" he heard a soft, concerned voice ask. "Are you well?"

Edmund could not find the will to respond or even to look toward the voice.

He heard a soft sigh. "Asleep," the voice said. "Must've had a nightmare and been walking in his sleep." He felt strong, gentle arms lift him from the ground. Then he saw tents going past him as he was carried through the camp. Soon he was being carried into a tent and casually recognized it as the one he shared with Peter. Whoever had carried him in laid him down in his hammock.

Edmund saw the person – a dryad, he realized now – approach Peter. His brother woke suddenly and grabbed his sword. Edmund heard feelinglessly as the dryad told Peter that Aslan was dead. That news made sense to Edmund. It was as if he had already known. He knew he should be surprised, frightened shocked, dismayed, yet he could not be, with his feelings completely gone. He could see the devastation written on Peter's face, yet he could not even care.

Peter slumped in discouragement onto his hammock. "Ed?" the young boy heard him call softly. "Edmund? What are we going to do now?"

Edmund, of course, could not respond. He knew that Peter would lead the army, as planned, while Edmund himself would lie where he was, doing nothing at all.

He heard Peter's soft footsteps as his brother walked over to him. "Edmund!" He could hear the alarm, the panic, in Peter's voice. The younger brother saw Peter's hands reaching down just before he felt himself being shaken. "Ed, wake up! Come on, don't do this to me!" Edmund could see the tears in his brother's eyes. Peter stood there for a time, trying to bring a response out of Edmund. Eventually, Edmund saw him leave.

How long he lay there, unable to feel, move or even to really think, Edmund never knew. It could have been anywhere form a just few minutes to several hours. The next new thing he saw was a tiny beam on early dawn sunlight that slipped between the tent flaps. He felt the ground shake ever so slightly and dimly heard a crack followed by a faint roar. In that brief second, Edmund felt a thrill course through, like life returning. Suddenly, he realized that wanted to get up. His feelings flooded back. He stood, suddenly realizing that his will had come back to life as well. He glanced over to where his armor lay, waiting for him. He walked over and quickly put it on. Then, grabbing his sword, he left the tent to look for his brother. The battle would start soon, he knew. Yet that thought no longer inspired dread or fear in him. He still remembered what the secret pull had felt like, but it had vanished without a trace. In its place, Edmund found a new strength and unity of purpose, dedication, and restored loyalty and love, unlike any he had ever felt before. Something inside him had been completely changed. He was still Edmund, but he was not the same Edmund who had so restlessly left the tent the night before. He saw the looks of amazement the people he passed gave him, but could not understand them. Swiftly, he made his way to the tent where he knew Peter would be with the council of war. He knew he might die in the battle that day, but the thought did not bother him. No matter what the dryad had said, Aslan would not let them lose. Meanwhile, he had this new life to embrace, which he did with his whole being. What he did not realize was that he now bore the face and character of a king.

This was inspired by the places where the Bible talks about dying with Christ and being risen with Him to a new life. As Sarah Arthur says in her Walking Through the Wardrobe, we need to see the death of our old nature and receive a new nature. I found myself wondering how this would play out in Narnia. This is the result.