It is so cold.
Hazy darkness is all he can feel around him. He lets himself look up to the sky, only there is no sky, just coldness. He can't feel himself breathe, but he knows he is pulling sharp breaths from the icy air around him, and letting them out unevenly, because he can see smoke coming out of his mouth. The air smells like war and stone and earth.
There is something he is missing, something he can't think about, but is causing his heart to clench uncontrollably. Something he has done, something he wants to stop, something he can't take back. His head hurts, he is tired. The darkness is closing in on him, suffocating and thick, and he knows what will happen next, because it always happens and he can't do anything to stop it.
Edmund wakes up drenched in sweat.
The warmth he feels while tucked deep under the covers of the bed almost makes up for the murkiness and gloom around him. The room is quite large, but Edmund can not make out anything more than shapes and shadows around him. Light is making it's way in gently through a small four-panel window to his left, but the thin curtains and the thick layer of snow on it's window stool are acting as obstacles determined to keep the room pitch black. As the young man's eyes turn away from the window, they set on the room's only door, right across from the bed he was sleeping in. It seems as though the lights are turned on in the corridor, and Edmund briefly wonders if Lucy has woken up to use the loo, or perhaps to spy on the presents under the Christmas tree in the sitting room as she had often done when they were children at home.
Edmund closes his eyes and shakes his head softly at that thought.
How long does he have 'till morning ? Is it worth it, he wonders, to try and get some more sleep, or will it do more harm than good ?
He can't tell for how long he lays in bed staring at the grey ceiling above him.
"And so I told them, why, however can you expect my siblings to simply sit around all day while Christmas passes by? Thankfully Mrs Williams organised a wonderful little get together, I'm sure you'll all love it."
"Oh Su that does sound lovely."
The table was set with fine silver for more than four people, but only the Pevensies were seated, generous portions of glazed ham, spiced peaches and sweet cornbread on their plates, as well as French onion soup, assorted cheese and crackers and Parker House rolls laying out in front of them. In the room next door, a record was playing Christmas classics. The elder Pevensie suddenly got an idea that danced in his warm eyes.
"Say, isn't that young soldier from St Louis going to be there, the one you introduced me to last spring at the Anderson's Valentine's ball?"
A blush crept up on Susan's face. "Peter! Don't be silly, George Wilson is a very respectable man. And if you do want to know, I invited him because I thought Edmund might like to meet him. Given his interest in the American troops."
The three turned towards him, sitting across from a large bay, but his attention seemed to be caught up by the snow-covered landscape outside. The dining table fell silent for a few seconds before Edmund became aware of Peter, Susan and Lucy's gazes. Trying to recall what exactly they had been talking about, he put on a bright smile that struggled to reach his eyes.
"Yes, I look forward to it."
After the table had been cleared away, Lucy, bright and full of energy, had managed to convince Peter to accompany her to the annual Baltimore Christmas market. Susan was making her way through the west-wing hall, to make sure that all was back in it's place, when she came upon her brother in the dining room.
Edmund didn't seem to have left it at all since they'd eaten. He was standing, eyes fixed out the window, rigid and still, the very picture of composure. She hadn't seen her younger brother for years now, hadn't seen him grow into the man he was today, and yet somehow, she could sense that something was troubling him deeply.
As she approached him, she caught a glimpse of his eyes as he stared out into the snow. At first they seemed blank, but there was a fire lurking in his iris. Was it fear?
He appeared lost in thought, and Susan knew that look well. She'd seen it in soldiers before, and men who had lived through war. But to recognise it in her own brother hurt more than she could have imagined.
"Ed? Are you alright?"
He turned abruptly to face her, and showed relief when he saw it was her.
"Hope I didn't give you a fright there, you seem awfully pensive. Penny for your thoughts?"
Edmund visibly relaxed, but he didn't say a word. He was hesitating. He looked at her very seriously, grave and somber, but as he started to speak, he decided against it. He was holding back.
Susan wished Ed would trust her as he used to when they were younger. She could recall numerous nights spent out together in warm gardens and fancy clothes, chatting aimlessly about- well about something or another. Only, perhaps- yes, she thought sourly- it had been back when they used to play around what was it called again? Narnia.
Edmund brought her out of her thoughts. "I was just thinking about that Christmas we spent out in the countryside, at Professor Kirke's during he war."
His words sounded scripted, she noticed bitterly, and he was looking at her in the way they all did when talking about it, as if they wanted her to remember. As if she could possibly forget. A thought suddenly crossed her mind, and she muttered, her voice betraying the haughty tone that she knew often infuriated him.
"But Edmund, we only spent a summer at Professor Kirke's."
He sighed and turned once again towards the window.
Edmund sat alone beside the roaring fire, Christmas lights dancing off of the decorated pine tree and onto the carpet upon which he was seated. He'd almost told her, earlier. He wanted her comfort more than anything, her rationality when his own was so obviously lacking. And then he remembered the glossy-eyed look she'd get every time they mentioned Narnia. He didn't want another fight about that, not today of all days.
A knock on the door in the hall was followed by much commotion. Mrs Williams rushed to greet Peter and Lucy come back from town. The two were dressed up in thick furs yet their cheeks were bright red from the cold. While the maid took their coats, Peter told the story of some adventure they'd had along the way. Mrs Williams laughed generously.
Before the two could enter the sitting room and warm up by the fire, Susan took Peter on a side and whispered something in his ear. He nodded, his lips pulled into a tight line.
As Lucy took off her gloves near the tree, Peter came to sit beside his brother, following his gaze into the hearth. "It's nice and warm in here, isn't it ?"
Edmund thought Peter's words were kind, and smiled softly to the older boy. "Yeah, the house is cold, but it's warm here."
Peter didn't miss a beat before asking, "What is weighing on you mind dear brother?" Peter grinned, "Susan thinks it's the fact that we're so far from home."
"We've been away from home before."
He sobered up quickly. "I know that, I do, but I understand why she's concerned."
Edmund let himself frown. "I'm not sure how to explain it Peter."
While the two boys sat and talked, Lucy listened, hesitant to interrupt but worried for her brother. She remembered seeing him like this many years ago, and she thought she might know the cause. "It's the snow isn't it Ed? It's reminding you of her."
Edmund looked up at Lucy, eyes wide and shining. The young woman- for she was no longer a child herself- reached out toward him, kneeling down on the carpet beside him. She held him in a tight embrace.
"Oh Ed! That horrid witch can't ever hurt you again. We're here for you, even Susan in her own way."
Peter's tone had little of it's earlier light-hearted nature. He sounded deeper, richer, every bit the High King he was. "Ed you know you did the best you could."
"But I should have known better!"
"Aslan forgave you years ago, it's time you forgave yourself."
After a long pause, Edmund responded, "I don't know if I'll ever be able to, but I'll try."
For a long while afterwards, the three sitting together in silence, Edmund found himself wondering what he would do without his siblings beside him.
