Author's Note: This is the companion piece to my other Narnia fic, Trial by Fire. This is an AU, covering the five years Edmund spent in Narnia before his siblings arrived. If you haven't, you should probably read Trial by Fire, at least the first couple of chapters, for things to make sense.
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, never will. Just playing with them for a while.
Forged In Flame
Chapter One: Arrival
"You know," Susan remarked, as she and Peter fell into step beside Edmund and Lucy, "now that we have all of this time free, you could tell us more about your time in Narnia."
"Oh, please, Edmund!" Lucy chimed in, eagerly. "You hardly told us anything last night."
"All right," Edmund agreed, easily. "So, Philip and I had just arrived in camp…"
"What's wrong?" Edmund asked, looking around nervously.
To his surprise, the snow had all but disappeared, leaving the ground covered in lush, green grass. There were healthy, green leaves on the trees, and bright flowers dotted the ground. They'd left winter behind, and entered spring.
"Nothing is wrong," Philip said. "We've reached Aslan's camp."
Edmund's careful study of their surroundings turned from fear to amazement as he truly saw Aslan's camp for the first time. All around them were all manner of creatures, talking, laughing, and working. A pair of young Fox kits, one black and one red, scampered in front of Philip's hooves, a Cheetah in playful pursuit, his and Philip's sudden appearance barely causing a disturbance for either party.
Off in the distance, two men on horseback practiced sword fighting. Edmund thought it strange that he couldn't see their mounts' heads, but quickly passed it over as he continued to take in the sights.
"This is wonderful," he breathed, and Philip chuckled slightly.
"Yes, it is," he said, warmly, affection in his voice. "Heads up, Prince. Oreius is coming."
Edmund looked up sharply, his jaw dropping in shock at the sight that approached him. At first glance, it appeared to be a man on a horse, until it became evident that the horse and man were one.
"What is that?" he asked, his voice emerging in a fearful, and embarrassing, squeak.
"Oreius is a Centaur," Philip explained, "and the general of Aslan's army."
'The fighting men,' Edmund thought, as he spared the scene a fleeting look, now understanding what he had been seeing.
"Well, what do we have here?" Oreius asked, his booming voice suddenly very painful to hear, when he compared it to Philip's quiet tones.
"Guests," Philip said, succinctly. "Edmund Pevensie, Prince of Narnia, and a Wolf."
Edmund detected a note of disgust in Philip's voice at the word Wolf, and Oreius turned expressionless eyes on him.
"He's hurt," Edmund said, weakly, as it occurred to him that his good deed might not have been such a good idea. "He needs help."
"And help he shall get," Oreius declared, after giving them both a long look, summoning another Centaur over to his side. "Take the Wolf to Shanza, for healing."
The Centaur nodded, taking the Wolf's burden as though he weighed nothing.
"As for you, Majesty," Oreius said, turning to Edmund. "I'm to bring you to Aslan."
Without warning, Oreius grabbed Edmund around the waist and lifted him to the ground easily. Edmund swallowed hard as he found himself looking up at the Centaur from the ground instead of the comforting height of Philip's back.
"This way," Oreius said, starting off without giving Edmund a chance to answer.
Edmund shot Philip a helpless look, but the stallion swung his head in the direction Oreius had gone.
"He's not as bad as he seems," Philip assured him, "just a little overwhelming. Go."
Having no other recourse, Edmund resignedly trotted after Oreius, who'd stopped in the path to wait for him.
"General Oreius, sir?" Edmund asked, as he struggled to keep up with the Centaur's much longer stride. "What's Aslan like?"
"He's a Lion," Oreius said, chuckling, a sound that surprised Edmund to no end. "What do you think he's like?"
"Terrifying," Edmund admitted, honestly.
"Well, he can be," Oreius said, "but he's nothing to be afraid of."
'That's easy for you to say,' Edmund thought, eyeing Oreius's gigantic, muscular form.
"You've nothing to fear," Oreius continued. "Aslan would sooner cut off his own mane before he ever hurt a child. Especially one as special as you."
"Sir, why is that?" Edmund asked, seizing the opportunity Oreius had given him. "Philip told me about the prophecy, but Aslan can't really expect me, my brother, and my sisters to stop some evil Witch? Can he?" he pleaded.
"That's for Aslan to tell you," Oreius said, as they stopped in front of a beautifully decorated tent. "Here we are."
The next second, the biggest creature Edmund had ever seen stepped out of the tent. The Lion shook his mane, and Edmund could have sworn he smiled at him.
"Welcome, Edmund Pevensie," Aslan intoned.
"Th-thank you," Edmund stammered, unable to think of anything else to say. Aslan smiled once more.
"Walk with me," he commanded, and Edmund fell into step beside him as naturally as if he'd always done so.
"You are wondering why you are here," Aslan said, and Edmund gaped at him in astonishment.
"Truth be told," Aslan continued, before Edmund could speak, "I find myself wondering the same thing. How did you gain access to Narnia, Edmund?"
And so Edmund found himself telling Aslan all about his nighttime trip for a glass of water that had him hiding in the wardrobe to get away from the Professor's housekeeper, and how he stumbled into Narnia.
"The Professor?" Aslan asked, curiously, when he'd finished.
"Professor Kirke," Edmund answered. "He's supposed to be an old friend of our parents, but none of us have ever even seen him."
"Well," Aslan said, "I'm not sure how you are here. It certainly isn't your time to come."
"Maybe it is," Edmund ventured. "How could I have gotten here, otherwise?"
Aslan stared at him for a long moment, before laughing, a great booming sound that startled Edmund back several paces.
"Very clever," he said. "Very well argued, young Prince."
Edmund took those words as an opportunity, and brought up something that had been bothering him for the past several hours.
"Aslan," he ventured, "Why did you call me Prince?"
"Did Philip not tell you about the prophecy?" Aslan asked.
"Well, yes," Edmund said, "but I didn't really understand it."
"In order to truly defeat the White Witch," Aslan told him, "you and your siblings must become Kings and Queens of Narnia, on the thrones of Cair Paravel."
"King?" Edmund whispered, dazzled at the sudden thought. And then he was hit by the mention his brother and sisters.
"Is something wrong?" Aslan asked, noticing Edmund's expression darken considerably.
"It's just," Edmund ventured, hesitantly, "all my life I've had to share with someone. And this is just another thing I have to share. I just wish I had something for myself, for once."
"A perfectly normal feeling," Aslan said, rather than delivering the lecture on selfishness that Edmund had been expecting. "But, Edmund, you must not let such feelings dictate your behavior. The kindest hearts are those who consider others before themselves."
Edmund nodded slowly. "Where's the Wolf?" he asked, changing the subject.
"He is with Shanza, our Healer," Aslan said.
"Can I see him?" Edmund asked, suddenly desperate for anything even remotely familiar.
"Of course," Aslan said, turning around. "This way."
He led the way to a smaller tent not too far from his own, and a guard at the entrance snapped to attention upon seeing them. At Aslan's gesture, he drew back the flap, allowing Edmund to duck inside. He blinked slowly to adjust to the tent's darkness, and then saw a small, graceful tree-woman bending over a mass of fur.
Hearing his footsteps, the Wolf lifted his head and fixed him with an unblinking gaze. Unafraid, Edmund moved further into the tent. Up close, he saw that the Wolf was barely half grown and clearly starving, his ribs showing painfully even through the thick fur that covered his body. The blood was gone from his coat, but the wounds that marked him were ugly and vicious, making Edmund wince in sympathy.
"You," the Wolf rasped, never looking away from him. "You're the one who rescued me. Why?"
Edmund shrugged helplessly. "I really don't know," he admitted. "But I just couldn't leave you lying there."
"Thank you," the Wolf said. "I owe you my life."
"No, I didn't-" Edmund sputtered. 'I didn't really save him just so that he would feel grateful to me, did I?' he thought, distressed at the very thought.
"Who did this to you?" he asked, changing the subject to something less uncomfortable.
"Maugrim did," the Wolf replied, looking disgusted. "It's my brother's way of keeping weaklings from entering the service of his beloved Queen."
"Your own brother attacked you?" Edmund asked, astonished.
"Yes," the Wolf said. "And, if they find that I have survived, I will be judged worthy of entering her service."
"You see, Sire?" an angry voice demanded, startling the tent's occupants. "The Wolf will return to his own kind and tell the Witch everything. I say we kill him now, before he gets the chance!"
"No!" Edmund cried, drawing all attention to himself. He stormed outside the tent, to confront Aslan and Oreius. "Aslan, you can't kill him."
"Did you not hear him, Majesty?" Oreius demanded. "He means to return to the Witch!"
"Only as a spy in service of those who cared enough to save my life," the Wolf rasped, as he limped out of the tent. He shot Oreius a dark look as he stood protectively beside Edmund.
"Your name, Wolf?" Aslan asked.
"Bertran," the Wolf replied.
"Edmund," Aslan continued, startling him, "do you take Bertran into your service?"
"Me?" Edmund gasped.
"You did save his life," Aslan said, restating Bertran's earlier words.
"Um, okay," Edmund said, feeling slightly ridiculous.
"I give you my vow, Highness," Bertran said, solemnly, "I will serve you, and no other, until my death."
"You understand," Aslan said, saving Edmund from having to try and think of a reply, "the price if the Witch finds out of her betrayal to you?"
"I cannot betray her if I never served her in the first place," Bertran said, simply.
"Then, go," Aslan said. Bertran looked up at Edmund, who nodded hesitantly, before he trotted off through the camp, towards the woods.
Edmund watched Bertran disappear into the woods, fighting back the urge to call the Wolf back to the camp, where he would be safe.
'This is Bertran's choice,' he reminded himself. 'He knows the danger he's facing. Aslan warned him of what could happen.'
"If you will go with Oreius," Aslan said, breaking into his thoughts, "he will start your training."
"My training?" Edmund echoed, looking over at the Lion in amazement. "Do you mean that I'm staying?"
"Only until it is time to retrieve your siblings," Aslan told him.
Turning, he walked away toward his pavilion, leaving Edmund standing alone with Oreius.
"Are you ready, Majesty?" the Centaur asked.
Edmund looked out at the camp, at the creatures depending on him to help save their land and their lives. Rather than feel scared, like he expected, he felt filled with a sense of purpose. For the first time in his life, he felt like he belonged.
"Yes," he said, softly, "I'm ready."
"We will begin with a tour of the camp," Oreius told him. "You cannot expect to command your subjects if you do not know them."
He led Edmund away from the Healer's tent, down to the main part of camp where the rest of the tents were set up.
"We number two hundred, at the moment," Oreius said. "Only three-quarters of that number are active fighters. And now you, of course."
"I can't fight," Edmund protested, immediately.
"You will," Oreius reassured him. "Philip told me about your flight away from the White Witch; I believe you have the skill to become quite a capable warrior."
Edmund wasn't so sure about that, but he kept his doubts to himself as Oreius led him up to a group of Creatures sitting around a fire.
"Good evening, Hyruil," Oreius greeted one of the Creatures, a Leopard who stood, gracefully, to meet them. "Kesi, Paan."
One of the Leopard's companions, a gray-furred Hyena returned Oreius's greeting with a quick nod. The other, a Cheetah, yawned slowly, showing an impressive set of teeth.
"May I introduce Edmund Pevensie, Prince of Narnia?" Oreius continued, and Edmund suddenly found himself the sole focus of their attention.
"This is an honor, Your Highness," the Hyena gasped, jumping to his feet and bending into a low bow. "I am Kesi, Highness, and I-"
"Oh, do be quiet," the Cheetah interrupted, reaching out with a paw and swatting the Hyena to the ground. "I'm sure the Prince has better things to do than to listen to you prattle on."
"Just because you aren't-" Kesi began, hotly, and Paan rose, slowly, to the implied challenge in the Hyena's voice.
"Enough," Hyruil growled, a dangerous rumble in his voice. "Forgive them," he added, turning to Edmund. "They've been fighting like this for days. They're getting impossible to be around."
"You both could meet me on the training field, tomorrow morning," Oreius suggested, and his mild tone stopped the argument in its tracks as both Creatures hastily assured Oreius that it wouldn't be necessary.
The argument, while it lasted, had drawn the attention of the Creatures, nearby, and one by one, they'd started over when they saw Edmund. He very quickly found himself surrounded by a crowd of curious Beasts, all clamoring for his attention. Edmund shifted, uneasily, as the crowd closed in on him, and only Oreius's heavy hand on his shoulder kept him from bolting in a panic.
"Be at ease," the Centaur said, in a low voice. "They only wish to see you."
"There are so many of them," Edmund whispered back, trying to quell the claustrophobic feeling that sprang up suddenly.
But, he tried to dutifully listen to the voices that clamored around him, trying to pick out names and match them to faces. A task he was sure he failed at fairly miserably. Mostly, he just let the voices wash over him, trying to absorb as much of the camp as he could.
Finally, Oreius made his excuses and led him away from the crowd. Edmund breathed a sigh of relief, able to relax now that he wasn't under the close scrutiny of dozens of eyes.
"You don't need to be afraid of them," Oreius spoke up, and Edmund looked at him in disbelief.
"You and Aslan kept talking about how I'm supposed to be some savior, and defeat the White Witch," he said, incredulously. "What if I can't, what if I let them down?"
"First," Oreius reminded him, "you will not be alone in the battle against the Witch. Your brother and sisters will be with you."
"I'd feel better if they were here, now," Edmund muttered, shocked to realize that he meant the sentiment.
He would have given anything to have Peter, Susan, and Lucy there with him. Anything familiar, really. He would have even been happy to see Philip, right then.
"Second," Oreius went on, "you will not let anyone down. It may not seem like it, but your just being here is enough to give them hope."
The Centaur kept talking, and Edmund tried hard to pay attention, even though he was starting to get tired. When he started yawning, Oreius broke off his recitation to steer Edmund back the way they'd come. Arriving at a bright red tent, Oreius held open the heavy flap and gestured for Edmund to enter.
Stepping inside, it took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. When they did, he could see a soft-looking nest of blankets in a corner of the tent. At the sight, a wave of exhaustion swamped him, almost knocking him off his feet.
"You'll sleep here, tonight," Oreius told him. "Get some rest, Prince. We'll talk more in the morning."
The Centaur stepped back, letting the tent flap fall shut behind him and shrouding the tent in near-complete darkness. Edmund stared at the tent flap, a million questions still crowding his mind. He wanted to go after Oreius and learn everything there was to know about Narnia, but he was suddenly so tired that he could even think about moving.
Finally, he decided that the morning would be soon enough for any further questions, and staggering over to the nest of blankets, he dropped down onto the makeshift bed, kicking off his boots and dragging the top blanket over his head. Then, closing his eyes, he fell promptly asleep.