A/N: This is from Edmund's perspective. It's a rather angsty oneshot about his views on crying, and how he has changed since coming to Narnia. Edmund is a little bit OOC. please review! constructive criticism is, as always, welcome.
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I slipped quietly out the door of the castle and into the light, drizzling rain. I felt the soft drops falling on my face, and reveled in their coolness. Heading off toward the woods, I cast a glance back at the castle, where I knew the rest of my siblings were. They knew what I was doing, but they never mentioned it, and I was grateful. I didn't want their sympathy any more than I had wanted it when we were still in England. Now, though, I realized that they just wanted to help, and didn't make the same stupid mistake of pushing them away.
As I reached the first few trees, I felt the first tear slide down my cheek. It was quickly washed away by a raindrop. This was why I loved walking in the rain; no one could tell I was crying.
When we had lived in England, I had always regarded tears as a weakness, a view that had been reinforced by my "friends". I had thought my life was miserable then, always being yelled at and misunderstood by my family, and taking out my frustration alongside the bullies I called my friends. I had been ashamed whenever a tear would leak out into my pillow at night, knowing I could never let anyone see it, see my weaknesses.
The rain was coming slightly harder now, and my hair and clothes were soaked. The drops hid the tears which were coming steadily.
When I was at school, I had felt so alone, but I would never let anyone see that. I hid behind sarcasm and cruelty. Whenever a tear would come, I would blink it back and send a biting comment at whoever was closest. I had walled myself off and kept my defenses high.
When I had come to Narnia, my views didn't change, at least, not right away. My views on weakness were reinforced when my opening up to someone for the first time led nearly to the destruction of Narnia. I had felt alone and abandoned by my siblings, who yelled at me and didn't even attempt to try and understand me. Years of fighting back tears and feeling misunderstood had boiled up inside me, and I had made the biggest mistake of my life, betraying my family and all of Narnia to the White Witch.
The rain was coming harder, and my tears increased to match.
Sitting in a cell in the Witch's castle, my life had been truly miserable, not just the imaginary misery it had been in England. I had more reasons to cry than ever before. I was alone, cold, hungry, terrified, I had no idea if my siblings were alive, let alone safe, and it was entirely my fault. I had never wanted to cry more than at that very moment, but still the tears hadn't come. I had pushed them away, blinked them back, repeating to myself: Do not cry; tears are weakness.
Only after I had been reunited with my siblings did I let a few tears fall, though not when anyone could see. I still did not enjoy letting people see my tears; I did not enjoy sympathy. But now I knew that tears were not weakness, they were human.
The rain was pounding heavily, mirroring the tears streaking down my face. I sighed and turned back towards the castle. My heart felt lighter, as it always did after a walk in the rain. It had been over a year since the war with the Witch, but I still felt guilty sometimes. It was why I always took a walk when it rained. Because then, no one could tell I was crying.