Narnia – We'll Meet Again
Narnia – We'll Meet Again
By Allyson
(Narnia and all its characters belongs to C. S. Lewis)
This is the field where I died.
It was an unremarkable field. Quiet with grass and craggy rock outcrops as far as the eye could see. It could have been mistaken for idyllic country setting back home in England. Complete with the typical English weather. A grey curtain swept across the Narnian landscape washing away all the colours and drenching the lonely figure to the bone.
This is the field where I lost a part of me.
Golden hair lay plastered against the boys head and rivulets ran freely down his nose, cheeks and chin. If he was crying it was disguised by the rain. His riding cloak flapped and snapped wetly around his legs but he ignored it. He was deaf to the hissing of the rain, numb from the cold, uncaring about his soaked, shivering body and blind to everything except for what lay before him.
This is the field where I lost hope.
A simple black marbled headstone sat nestled in the grass at his feet. A limp and battered bouquet of wild flowers bravely clung to its shadow despite the downpour. In morbid fascination, the boy was unable to tear his eyes from the glittering gold name engraved into the stone:
Edmund Pevensie
1933-1944
King of Narnia and Beloved Brother
Dearly Missed
This is the field where I lost my little brother.
Peter's knees finally gave out and he collapsed onto his knees, ignoring the mud that seeped into his clothes and splattered his hands.
"Oh, Edmund," he murmured, brokenly, leaning his forehead against the cool marble.
Memories of that horrible fateful day five years ago washed over him as if it had only been yesterday. The field had been a battlefield, fighting for Narnia's freedom against the White Witch. Edmund had saved Peter from being turned into stone but Peter had been too late to save his brother from the lethal blow dealt by the White Witch. Lucy's cordial hadn't restored Edmund – it had simply been too late. Edmund had died seconds before his siblings had reached him. Peter had never forgiven himself.
"We miss you," Peter whispered, closing his eyes in despair.
Forever.
The rain continued.
- - - - - - - -
Edmund's last thought, as he lay on the battlefield bleeding out, was that he was becoming numb with the cold. He'd always believed that one day his behaviour would get him killed but he had thought that the end wouldn't be for awhile yet. He'd also thought he'd die with his family surrounding him in his last moments. It was becoming evident that wasn't going to happen. In a way he was grateful that his last memories of his sisters and brother were not tinged with the sadness of him dying. But he wished he could see them one last time, selfish or not. He hadn't had a chance to tell Peter how sorry he was for his actions and how much he really meant to him.
As if detached from his own body, the sound of the battle coming to an end echoed distantly in his ears. Darkness crawled across his eyes and then there was nothing . . .
. . . A long ebbing nothing that gradually stretched into a white light. Edmund blinked, realizing he was no longer lying wounded on the ground. Even odder, he was wearing his old clothes from England that he'd worn when he first walked through the wardrobe.
Turning, Edmund found Aslan waiting patiently behind him.
"Aslan!" he called out in relief. "What happened? Did I die?"
The great lion nodded and gave a soothing purr. "You have redeemed yourself by helping to stop the White Witch," he rumbled. "Your destiny now runs a different path."
Leaning forwards, Aslan nuzzled Edmund's cheek with his nose, causing Edmund to smile as the lion's whiskers ticked his face.
"Will Peter, Susan and Lucy be alright?" asked Edmund, as a door appeared beside him.
"I will look after them," promised Aslan. "You will see them again soon."
With one giant paw, Aslan gently pushed Edmund towards the doorway. Hesitantly, Edmund stepped forwards through the door, wishing his siblings were with him.
His jaw dropped open in shock as he realized where he was . . .
- - - - -
"Do come riding with us, Peter, please?" begged Lucy, hating to see her brother so quiet and so sad. He was recovering from a bad cold after visiting Edmund's grave four days ago. Those four days had been spent shut away in his bedroom in brooding silence. "Mr Tumnus says there's been a sighting of the White Stag in Lantern Waste again."
Peter tried to rally some enthusiasm at Lucy's eagerness, determined not to burden his younger sisters with his grief. He knew it wasn't fair. They all missed Edmund but the girls seemed to be dealing a lot better than he was.
"It would mean the world to Susan if you left your bedroom and got some fresh air," tried Lucy again, resorting to guilt-tripping her brother.
It worked.
Mustering a smile, he replied, "Okay, I will. Fresh air does sound like a good idea."
A few hours later, Peter raced his horse through the forest, Susan and Lucy on his heels in pursuit of the mysterious White Stag. Caught up in the moment and distracted by the thrill of the chase, all three siblings began to enjoy themselves. For the first time in five years, joyful laughter bubbled between the young monarchs.
Losing sight of the White Stag, the Pevensie's came to a rest in a small clearing. The only light flickered from an antique forgotten lamppost. They all sensed a feeling of deja-vu.
"Spare Oom," murmured Lucy to herself, slipping off her horse and running off into the trees.
Both Peter and Susan also dismounted and ran after her.
"Not again," sighed Susan, in frustration, before calling out, loudly, "Lucy! Come back here!"
They had just caught up with their youngest sister, pushing through the closely packed pine trees, when Peter noticed something odd.
"These aren't branches," he exclaimed, in surprise. "These are fur coats."
"And shoes," added Susan, as she tripped over something on the ground.
"Ow, Peter, you're on my foot!"
"It's not me! Susan, stop shoving me!"
"I'm not shoving you! Move over!"
"Ow!"
"Get off me!"
"Ow!"
"Agghh!" all three gasped in surprise as they tipped out of the wardrobe on hands and knees in an ungainly heap.
Feeling the coarse wooden floorboards beneath their fingers and knees, they realized they were back in the spare room of the Professor's home. They were back in England, the door to Narnia now lost to them.
This was the place where it all started.
Gazing at one another in shock, all three jumped as a noise in front of them startled them. A ghost stood in front of the trio.
This is the place where I first lost my little brother.
Susan gave a strangled sob as tears sprang into her eyes while Lucy's jaw hung loose and her eyes widened to the size of saucers. Peter couldn't breathe and didn't want to in case he broke the illusion.
"Ed?" he managed to croak out.
"Peter!" Edmund broke into a surprised familiar crooked smile that Peter had dearly missed. "What are you doing here? You should be fighting the White Witch."
"You – you died," murmured Lucy, in disbelief. "H-how?"
This is the place where I learned to hope again.
"I don't know," confessed Edmund with a troubled frown of concentration, in answer to Lucy's unasked question of why he was stood in front of them alive. "I remember lying on the battlefield . . . it got cold . . . then there was this bright white light and Aslan was there . . . I think he brought me here . . . He said that I'd see you all again soon."
Susan tried to muffle another sob before launching herself at her younger brother. Both she and Lucy cried out in delight when they found that he was real and she didn't pass right through him. Burying her head into Edmund's shoulder, Susan finally allowed herself to cry freely. Startled, Edmund hugged her tightly in return.
Lucy laughed in delight and scurried to her feet in order to join the hug.
"I always knew I'd see you again," she told him, truthfully.
Edmund grinned back at her and pulled her into a hug.
"Thank you, Lu," he murmured, sincerely.
This is the place where I became whole again.
Frozen on his knees, Peter couldn't move, couldn't take his eyes away from the sight in front of him, couldn't breathe. It occurred to him that he was beginning to hyperventilate but he didn't care. Only one thing mattered and it was taking place in front of him. He wouldn't change it for the world. Even when black spots blotted his vision.
Two warm hands framed his cheeks shocking him into awareness and forcing him to look upwards into a pair of equally warm brown eyes. His heart almost stopped beating.
"Breathe, Peter," instructed Edmund, his voice soothing. "Calm down and breathe."
Vaguely aware of Susan rubbing gentle circles across his back to relax him, Peter stared mutely at his brother. Edmund smiled back at him as he knelt in front of him.
"Everything's okay, Peter, stop worrying. I'm here."
"You're here," repeated Peter, hope creeping into his voice.
Hesitantly, he reached out a shaking hand and placed it over Edmund's chest. A welcoming thud-thud reverberated beneath his palm and Peter's eyes closed in relief.
"Peter? Are you okay?" Edmund asked, in concern, before finding himself swept into a tight bear hug.
This is the place where I found my little brother.
"Don't ever leave me again," choked out Peter, not relinquishing his grip.
"I promise," responded the younger boy, returning his hug with equal force.
This is the place where I lived again.
The End.