Hello everyone,
Now this is a new fanfic that I have just written today. I only got the idea during school today because of a famous war poet named Wilfred Owen. Don't know whether you have heard of him or not but we were analysing A Terre today and there was a verse that inspired me to write this fic. I think this is way better than the Saving Me fic that I wrote, but hey, that's just my opinion.
Please read and review, I would appreciate it a great deal.
Also, to those who read my fanfiction "The Affairs of the Heart", I am so sorry for all of the problems with editing and re-writing chapters, but I have been trying to find a Beta Reader to help me with the story but I have a feeling no one wants to help. I will try to get the next chapter up as soon as possible and thank you for being so patient with me.
Anyway, back to this.
Disclaimer: I am not C.S. Lewis therefore I do not own the Chronicles of Narnia. And also I am not Wilfred Owen so I do not own A Terre either. Poor bloke, really. Got shot only a few days before Armistice day. :(
Anyway, enjoy!
Your fifty years ahead seem none too many?
Tell me how long I've got? God! For one year
To help myself to nothing more then air!
One Spring! Is one too good to spare, too long?
Spring wind would work its own way in to my lung.
And grow me legs as quick as lilac-shoots.
A Terre (being the philosophy of many soldiers)
By Wilfred Owen.
Sensations of Death and Hope.
A blinding shock impacted with Edmund's mind as the White Witch stabbed him harshly in the stomach. Everything seemed to slow down as the realisation started to kick in. The realisation that he was going to die. He wasn't supposed to die like this. He was supposed to die as an old man in a warm home, in a cosy bed surrounded by his family. Not here in a cold, bloodstained field on his own whilst his family were still fighting out there, fighting for their country, their kingdom.
The White Witch sneered triumphantly as she wrenched her broken wand out of the open wound in Edmund's torso. With a stifling gasp, Edmund fell to the ground, his sword escaping his grip, as if the sword itself was trying to escape the battle. The sky was the lightest blue Edmund had ever seen. Clear circadian blue, instead of the stormy grey of the rainclouds back in England. It was funny really, how when your about to die, you see the beauty of the world.
The pain in his stomach was getting worse. He didn't think he was going to last very much longer. The air was somehow getting thicker, harder to breathe in. He was growing cold but he had no energy to shiver. He was dying. As he lay on the cold ground, his thoughts turned towards his family. His little sister Lucy, his older sister Susan and his older brother Peter. How would they feel if I died? He thought solemnly as images of his siblings swirled in his mind. He had never told them that he loved them. He wished he did now instead of arguing with them, because he honestly did love them with all of his spiteful childish heart. He had never really gotten on with his brother, but brothers never usually do without a few fights once in a while. He had only fought with Lucy because she was the youngest and got most of the attention all of the time off of everyone. But he was forgiven by her when he said sorry to her. And Susan was just like Peter in some respect, always trying to act like their mother as well as trying to stay the goody-two-shoes she had always been. But that was just Susan all over. I guess Miss Goshawk was right, you never know what you have until you've lost it. Edmund thought as he gave a stifled gasp for air. Miss Goshawk was the Religious Studies teacher at Hendon House and during the air raids she had lost almost all of her family from the bombs.
He thought of his parents. Were they alright? Would they be upset if they found out he was dead? He wondered if his father was still fighting or if he was already waiting for him in heaven, wherever that was. It had been a while since he had seen his noble father; it would be good to see him again. His mother would no doubt weep for him for months. She was always a passionate, caring woman. He hoped his mother would forgive him for being a horrible son to her. He didn't tell her that he loved her either, or his father. Now he'll never get the chance to tell them.
He was slipping away. He could feel his life slowly drain from him just like his blood was draining out of his stab wound. How long would he have? A few minutes..? If only he knew! If only he had more time to live. More time to live his life properly. He called out to the only one he knew that would know.
Aslan, can you hear me? It's me, Edmund. I am really sorry for what I have done and I know that you have your reasons for why I'm dying now but...I don't think I'm ready to die yet. I'm scared. I don't want to leave everyone, especially my siblings. Please, if you give me more time then I promise I will do anything you want of me.
He could hear shouting in the distance. Maybe it was more poor Narnians dying in during the battle. It wasn't fair for the innocent to die. But you know what they say, life isn't fair. If he had another chance to live, if Aslan had heard his desperate plea for another chance, then he would give everything he had to make it fair for the innocent. Fair and just.
Suddenly, there came a whisper in the wind. I shall hold you to your word, young Son of Adam. It filled him with hope as the pain began to lessen.
"Ed!" called a cry in the distance. He turned to it in hope. Maybe there was a chance that he would live. Lucy appeared in his sight, her eyes wide with panic and filled with tears. Minutes later, Peter and Susan appeared around him. Susan cradled his head and took off his helmet, stroking his hair soothingly as Lucy took a crystal bottle out from the pouch at the front of her dress. She poured a drip of red liquid in to his mouth and he closed his eyes as he felt the drop increase in to a mouthful before it coursed through his body giving him a newfound strength. His stab wound felt warm as it stitched together and fixed. He coughed a little and opened his eyes. Lucy was smiling as tears fell down her cheeks. Susan looked near enough the same as Lucy but he didn't expect to see Peter looking sobbing at his side too. Peter gathered Edmund up in his arms and hugged him tightly. When he pulled away Peter was smiling widely through his tears that were still falling down his cheeks.
"When are you going to learn to do as you're told?" he said rolling his eyes and smiling with relief. Edmund grinned back at him before he was enveloped in a massive hug with his sisters as well as his brother. He smiled as he closed his eyes.
Thank you Aslan.