Welcome to the Warmth
By: SugarHighNutcase
I couldn't resist writing another Edmund fic so soon. I'm just getting so much inspiration. It's just Ed's thoughts on his dying, and his thoughts on Peter. I might do a second chapter as well. Also, please note the AN in my bio. It's very important. Oh, and I doubt the title makes sense. It really has nothing to do with the fic.
The cold, jagged blade of the White Witch stabs through my body, and pain washes over me as I fall to the ground, clutching my side. I hear someone yell out my name in the distance; maybe Peter, I don't know. I can hardly breathe; my vision is fading fast. Blood pours through my fingers. I can't hold on much longer. Susan, Lucy, Peter- where are they?
I hear fighting near me- the Witch and… my brother. Oh, God, if she kills him- but she killed me, didn't she? I'm dead, I must be, because no one could feel this pain and live. The Witch can't hurt him, she can't, and I can't be dead either because then- then I won't be able to tell him. Tell him how sorry I am, how much I love him, how much I look up to him, and how I'll never be as good as he is.
I just wanted his love, and now what do I have? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I betrayed my family; I turned my back on them, and went against him- my own brother.
Air. I need air, but I can't breathe, it's too hard. Blood has soaked my armor and the grass around me. I feel myself slipping away. How could this happen?
I hear someone call my name. Someone lifts my head onto their lap, and a voice begs me not to leave. I know that voice- it's Peter's. He must have defeated the Witch.
Another thing he could do better than me.
A sweet liquid enters my mouth and slips down my throat. The pain has subsided, the air is returning to my lungs. I open my eyes, and the first thing I see is my older brother, gazing worriedly at me. I sit up; he grabs me into a hug. My side is still a bit sore, but I relax into it anyway.
He pulls away and looks into my eyes. "When will you ever learn to do as you're told?" he asks me, relief prominent in his eyes.
I smile- still weak- and we hug again, Lucy and Susan joining in. He loves me. He doesn't have to say it; the worry and relief in his voice says it all.
