Traitors Arc: King Edmund the Just
Disclaimer: Own nothing. It would be nice to be able to say I did create this world and these characters, but that would be lying.
A/N: Okay, a little out of order perhaps, but this is the first story in the Traitors Arc. Um... no spoilers I don't think. I know pretty much nothing about Narnia because my interest is in the characters, most notably Edmund, but I am trying to remedy this fact. This is from Edmunds POV, the way he perceives how people treat him, so for all we know everyone could be planning a giant surprise birthday party for him, and he wouldn't know. The only reason I mention this, is because he is very paranoid and rather angsty in this.
Traitors Arc: Not everyone is as forgiving as Aslan, Peter, Susan and Lucy, and I believe that Edmund probably had to put up with a lot before he was finally fully trusted and his betrayal forgotten. Edmund learns what being 'Just' really is, and makes himself a few new friends along the way.
Traitors Arc: King Edmund the Just
In the days following the coronation Edmund could normally be found in the giant library the palace offered. If he was not to be found there then he was either training with Oreius, or eating with his siblings. This should afford you the ability to work out just how long he spent in the library. Very rarely did he ever actually sleep in his room, having been woken by on thing or another, most likely a silent nightmare, that would not allow him anymore sleep, so he retreated to the library, and was normally discovered by a servant sometime before breakfast, fast asleep, surrounded by tomes and scrolls. Most woke him, giving him time to return to his rooms and change before his siblings came in looking for him to go to breakfast with them.
So even his dear brother and sisters did not realise the extent of his time spent in the library.
What was he doing there?
Edmund had, the very day they had become Kings and Queens of Narnia, done some serious thinking, especially after hearing what he would be known as. King Edmund the Just. But really, just what exactly did he know about being 'Just'. Nothing. He was a frightful person really. Before Narnia he had spent much of his time being cruel to Lucy, arguing with Peter, ignoring Susan. And after he had come to Narnia?
He flinched away from that train of thought, as he normally did subconsciously now.
So he had decided to research just what it meant to be 'Just', but the idea was truly to abstract, that he kept getting a different definition in every book his looked in. Some said that it was the showing of mercy towards others. Another said it was the serving of punishment for misdeeds. He needed a definition that made sense to him, because surely you could not show mercy all the time and you could not punish everything a person did. They would end up like him if you did.
A traitor.
Again his subconscious swallowed that up with another flinch.
He would need to keep searching, that was all he could do.
x
Two weeks after he had become King Edmund realised that there were those in the castle who stopped speaking when he came near them, and watched him as he did what he had to do before leaving. Nothing was ever said, and it wasn't really overt. But once he had realised that it was happening, it was impossible to miss it.
It was oppressive.
He could think of no way to stop it. He had tried smiling at them, but the expression he received in return was strained, and obviously forced. He had attempted to make conversation, but it was stilted and normally ended with someone excusing themselves hurriedly.
It began to feel as if he was some kind of imposter, watched and unwelcome.
Not that he could really blame them. His betrayal was still fresh, he held himself as much accountable as they did.
He said nothing to Peter, Susan or Lucy, and they never seemed to notice.
x
Almost a month after becoming King Edmund noticed that clothes he had sent to be washed were returned either not done, or not done enough. More than once, he had found a patch of dirt from training still there. There would be apologies all round when he mentioned this to his valet, but it continued to happen.
He was not sure if it was his valet, who seemed an agreeable sort, and sometimes stayed and spoke to him, and seemed friendly enough. But perhaps he was merely pretending. Was it possible?
Edmund tried to tell himself he was being paranoid, that perhaps he had actually just forgotten to send the clothes to the wash. After all, why would anyone send back unwashed clothes?
He shied away from the reasons.
He had tried hard over the past month to not let the cut off conversations and watchful eyes get to him, did his duties as well as he could, and continued his research on how to be a truly Just King. If he ever thought of his own situation while reading he set it aside, declaring it to be justice. After all, the Narnia's deserved their justice, and he had not had punishment enough, not for what he had done.
He had heard the whispers about what Aslan had done for him. How ungrateful he was to strut around a king, when Aslan had let himself be killed, for the likes of him.
Yes, the Narnian's did not have to forgive him as Aslan, Peter, Susan and Lucy had, he did not expect it of them. He just hoped he could prove to them that he could change, and be a good king.
x
Five weeks after becoming King Edmund noticed, with some great shock, that not all those that tutored him and Peter in the art of fighting, like him very much. Before this there had been no real indication, but then, before this he and Peter had only sparred each other, Oreius, or Killian the faun. But new tutors in different weapons and fighting styles had been introduced, and Edmund had the unlucky chance to be against someone who did not like him.
What was supposed to be an instruction lesson became a fight in which he honestly feared for his life. He defended, but never attacked, not knowing how to, or if he should. Oreius, who had been watching had called a halt to the mach fairly quickly, and had dismissed the trainer, but not soon enough to prevent Edmund receiving a shallow cut on his forearm.
He had offered his services should Edmund ever need to speak with him about anything. Edmund thank him, allowed Peter to fuss over the cut, and let Susan and Lucy bundle him into bed, telling him he was in shock over such an unwarranted attack. Edmund endured it with surprising good humour, until he was alone, and his smile dropped and his thoughts began down a dark path.
How many of the soldiers did not like him? Did not trust him? If they did not trust him, they would not do as he directed them in battle. Which meant that something could happen to Peter, or Susan, or Lucy.
What could he do to prevent this?
Train harder perhaps; try to prove himself worthy of leading them in battle? Was it everyone? Or just a few?
He ended up in the library again that night, this time researching everything he could on battle strategies.
x
Nearly eight weeks later Edmund was summoned to the 'War Room' a huge room of which much of it was devoted to a giant table map of Narnia and her borders. It was old, from before the hundred year winter. The new map was being drawn up, and there were hopes that there should be a rough draft of it within six months, the proper one would likely take two years to make perfectly. So for the moment the old map was in use, some crude additions made where things were known to be different.
He met Peter and Oreius, and two other generals in the room.
"There have been some reports of many Fell creatures in the area surrounding the Witch's castle." Oreius told them, and Edmund could not prevent the slight shudder. Why did everything always have to come back to the witch? For just a little while, could there not be some other enemy? Though she was dead, and he knew she was not coming back, he still had nightmares, nightmares that she had come for her blood, and Aslan had turned from him.
Shaking off these thoughts he focused on the map, and on what Oreius was saying. This could be a chance to prove himself, or a test to see who would or would not listen to him.
"Why there?" Peter asked.
"It's like a base of operations, isn't it? Like how our soldiers would all come back here if something happened to us, it's a defensible location that they can hold for a while. And really, what self respecting Narnian wants to go to the Witches castle? For them it would be the safest place to fall back to." Edmund told him.
He missed the surprised looks on everyone's face as he had turned his attention to the area that held the witches castle. He frowned as he looked at the map. Finally he pointed to just outside the small valley that held the giant fortress. "Where could they get to from here? Where would they be likely to go?" he looked up at Oreius.
Oreius took a moment to look at the map, nodding to himself before pointing to an area slightly further north of the castle, on the border. "The Ettin Border." At Edmund and Peter's blank looks, he explained. "Ettin's are a race of giants who sided with the witch. I am sure they would probably take in any of her army that wished to join them. They do not like Narnia, though why has been lost through the ages."
Peter was nodding along quite seriously. "So letting them get there is most definitely not in Narnia's best interests, or we could have another war on our hands if they take into their heads to invade?"
"I would think so Your Majesty." Oreius nodded.
"So where would it be best to strike?"
Edmund pointed to the map, at the small opening in the mountains around the witch's castle that lead to the forest bordering towards the Ettin land. "One party should be there, either to cut off the escape route, or to force them out the other side where the other part of the army should be waiting." He seemed to realise he was getting some strange looks, so he snatched his hand back and looked at the generals. "Sorry, was I wrong?" after all, he was just applying what he had read; it wasn't like he had any actual knowledge.
"No King Edmund."
Peter was peering at the map, and when he looked up he smiled warmly at Edmund. "Ed, that's a brilliant plan, I didn't know you did strategies." There was a question in that, and Edmund head it and responded with a small shrug.
"I read it; I've been sort of reading up on stuff like this in my spare time."
He could see Peter try to work out what free time he was referring to. In between the many lessons on proper etiquette, or perhaps in between weapons practice, or matters of the crown. He could also see when Peter considered that he might be using his nights to look this stuff up; he ignored the concerned look his brother cast his way. Thankfully though Peter never asked, so Edmund didn't have to lie.
"I'll lead the group going in this side," he pointed to the main way between the two mountains. "You take the smaller way. Is that ok Ed?"
Edmund nodded, even though he felt a wave of something close to panic at the idea of commanding a group of soldiers. How did he know if they would--?
No. He had to stop this, it was getting ridiculous now. He really needed to get over it. They were professionals, they would listen to him because he was their king, and if not because of that, then at least because if they did then they would be protecting the other monarchs. All he had to do was keep his head and stop being so paranoid.
"We should leave soon, tomorrow, or the day after?" Peter asked Oreius.
"Tomorrow." Oreius replied easily.
Peter nodded. "Ok, come on Ed, we had best go tell the girls about this. Will you be alright to organise everything Oreius?"
"Of course Majesty."
Edmund followed Peter from the War room, and through the castle to find the girls.
x
Three days hard marching later they had reached the mountains, between which the witch's castle sat. Edmund had no wish to see it, but it was an impossible hope. It was here that the army split, and Edmund would lead the second party on the day long trek around the mountain and to the small gap behind them. The worries he had forced aside when they began this journey were beginning to leak through, not enough to make him too paranoid, but enough to keep him on edge.
The attack would begin tomorrow an hour after dawn.
His orders were followed with little grumbling, and as the day progressed he began to feel a little better about this position. By nightfall they had reached the small pass. To the left of the pass, not a hundred yards was a fast flowing river. It was quickly declared dangerous, and he was told he should not go too near it for fear if he fell in he would be carried off.
For the first time in a while he was starting to feel as if something was going right.
x
The attack was unexpected, the alarm was sounded in the predawn light by the sentries, and there was a quick scramble to arms. Obviously a group had been trying to sneak out in the dark hours of the night to escape notice. Edmund found himself in battle almost immediately.
Much of the battle assed him in a blur, he was so concentrated on keeping himself alive, he did not notice he was being backed towards the river. One small misstep backwards was all it took, and he was tumbling into the icy waters. As the current caught him and he was swept away he wondered if anyone would think to tell Peter what had happened to him.
Would anyone even notice he had fallen?
A collision with a rock cast him into unconsciousness, and he knew no more.
Ohhh, chapter 1 finished. I shouldn't think this will be longer than three or four chapters. I am now officially rather proud of myself. Four stories in the course of 24 hours. I hope you enjoyed, and will wait for the next chapter.
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