"And Neither Do I"
The Narnians were mad.
They were furious.
Righteously so.
The four children of Adam and Eve of whom they had waited so long for had finally come –in their lifetime no less! –and one betrayed them, making the prophesy utterly useless- broken and shredded. Their hearts even more so.
So when they found the boy with her and she disappeared, leaving him alone, they seized the sputtering and terrified child.
Poor Edmund couldn't say anything in his defence, because he knew what he was. He was hurt, scared and utterly alone and a traitor and whatever the Narnians had in store for him he rightly deserved. Edmund was done with being a coward. He was done with running and saving his own skin because it was worth nothing now anyways.
His jaw clacked against the centaur's enormous shoulder as the mighty creature leapt over a small creek. Edmund was being carried potato-sack-style and his head ached terribly.
The sun had only begun to rise in golden glory, its light not yet touching the pale blue of the shaded camp by the time the tired but urgent group of Narnians reached the center pavilion. They were furiously oblivious to the morning's beauty.
Edmund was dropped unceremoniously to the ground stifling a gasp from his excruciatingly sore muscles. He turned and tried to struggle to his unstable feet but was pushed to remain on his knees by a satyr. His head was shoved to remain bowed and the snorted threat of the satyr was painfully obvious. Edmund sucked in a breath, but obeyed without any opposition, knowing he was completely at their mercy.
In fact, he could almost physically feel the immense weight of the anger and righteous hatred running through the Narnians.
Edmund tried to swallow with his parched throat and only succeeded in making his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth.
Silently, gently, the tent flap of the magnificent pavilion they had put Edmund before opened and, sneaking a peek from under his bangs, the boy watched as the most terrifying animal Edmund could have possibly imagined stepped out. The commanding majesty of the Witch paled in comparison. Edmund had never even considered that something could be so terrifying and completely beautiful at the same time, yet here He was.
Walking to the edge of the raised rock, the Lion stopped and sat, the ground echoing a slight tremble as He did so.
Disobeying the satyr's orders, Edmund lifted his head ever so slightly and looked into the Lion's face. The eyes stared at him. Into him. Into his very soul.
A feeling unlike anything Edmund had ever felt before consumed him from the inside out. Within seconds he found himself sobbing at the feet of the Lion, who, with one look, had gone into the forgotten, abandoned part of his soul he had discarded for so long. The anger, the fury, the immaturity. All those times he was pushed and bullied at school. All those times he tried to tell Peter but ended up pushing him away instead. And all the times he had pushed poor Lucy away because he simply felt like it. All those times blurred and faded and then disappeared altogether to leave something solid and painfully simple. A child's want to be wanted. A genuine hurt that was created by thick walls of self preservation and a need to be seen by someone, anyone, by any means necessary.
The Narnians surrounding the boy and the Lion remained where they were but some shifted uncomfortably. There, in front of them, a beaten and sorry child was crying such deep and heart wrecking sobs, it would have been almost pathetic had the Lion not been there; instead it made the entire scene relieving, like it was the only thing that could have rightly happened at that moment.
"My Lord," the satyr spoke up, startling Edmund into trying to contain his tears, "we found the boy with the Witch." It was almost spat out and once again, Edmund felt like flinching. It was all too clear how the Narnians felt about him, but the satyr continued, "The law states that every traitor is to be killed."
Death was the only option. To the Narnians, the prophesy had been lost as soon as Edmund had stepped out of the Beaver's dam to go to the Witch's castle. Edmund, tears still sliding down his cheeks, looked at the Lion in full expectation of the consent to have him killed.
Instead, the Lion did something extraordinary, or rather, He did something so ordinary it was completely extraordinary. The Lion began to lick His paws.
The Narnians looked to each other, suddenly very uncomfortable. They were all thinking the same disrespectful thought. He looked like nothing more than a great golden cat giving itself a morning bath.
Blinking a frown away, the satyr spoke again, "What say you Sire?"
The Lion just kept licking His mighty paws.
Edmund's tears had subsided and he was now watching the Lion with tensed curiosity.
"Sire, the law demands that all traitors be killed." A fawn stepped forward. This set off a whole sleuth of mutterings and agreements and Edmund simply blinked and accepted his fate with a bowed head.
Finally, in no great hurry, the Lion put His paw down and stood resulting in an immediate hush from the crowd.
"Very well." The Lion rumbled with a voice like summer thunder.
Edmund had thought he had resigned himself to the fate the Narnians had for him, and though he had expected no less, his heart dropped to the grass at his feet upon hearing those words. The Lion never denied nor addressed whether or not Edmund was a traitor. That part was all too obvious and true.
The Narnians didn't cheer or make much noise at all, but the way they shuffled spoke volumes.
"Yet let the one who has never done wrong cast the first blow." The Lion's voice rumbled through every strand of hair and fur as the Narnians again quieted to silence.
The Lion, obviously satisfied He had said His piece, sat down again and went back to washing His great paws.
There was the sound of hoofs as the centaur that had carried Edmund backed away from the group. Obviously one of the generals, he walked away without a word.
Then, one by one, starting with the oldest, the Narnians walked away.
The last to leave was the satyr. He looked at Edmund's astonished, breathless face with a blank expression that was neither violent nor gentle only, perhaps, mildly confused. And he walked away as well.
The Lion finally looked up from His paws, "Where are your accusers Son of Adam?" he asked, "Did none of them stay to condemn you?"
Edmund, still on his knees and low to the ground at last found his trembling voice, "No, none... S-sire."
The Lion rose and stepped closer to the shaking boy who could now see clearly the heavy paws that could snap him in one swipe, the teeth that could crush him with no effort, the massive form that towered over him. The Great Lion bent down and Edmund's heart stopped beating.
He received a Lion's kiss.
When the Lion backed away, Edmund's cheeks were changed from the blotchy red of tears to pink with sudden strength.
The Lion's voice was as warm as his father's hugs, "And neither do I."
This is loosely based on John 8:7-11. Keep in mind that, strictly speaking, the circumstances differ between the two stories but I believe that, in the end, Jesus' actions parallel wonderfully with how Edmund is forgiven. Thank you everyone for reading! Let me know what you think! (and yes, this is edited slightly from when I first published it- sorry for any confusion!)