Author's Notes: My deepest apologies for taking FOREVER to update this! My original plan had been to write this entirely from Edmund's point of view, but I suddenly had the idea to switch between what Edmund and Peter were each thinking. I managed about half a page from Peter's thoughts, and then ... I was stuck. . I finally decided to stick with the entire story from Edmund. If I ever figure out what to write for Peter, I may update it later to add him in, or just make his own separate story; I haven't decided yet. Thank you to everyone who's been ever-so patient in waiting for more, and all the lovely reviews. They make my day everytime I see one. 3
I want someone to draw me the scene of Edmund holding out the butterfly. Seriously. I will love you forever. The image has been stuck in my head for ages, and now I really wanna see it. Sadly, my artistic skill is strictly computer related. .O
It has come to my attention that the fox in the movie didn't actually have a name, and I'm stealing it from the lovely and amazing electrum, who convinced me that it was Sir Giles Fox. Whoops. All credit for the name goes to her.
Chapter 2: Rescued
"Up there," Edmund told them, pointing solemnly to the top of the waterfall, just ahead of them. "He's up there."
The closer they'd gotten to the site of the fox's demise, where Edmund had once again betrayed Aslan and his family, the quieter he became. Peter watched him closely now, but wasn't pushing him to speak, for which he was grateful. He supposed he'd have to get used to these constant reminders of his treachery at some point, but for now the pain of knowing was still fresh, and he hated it.
"Peter, Edmund, on my back," Aslan ordered softly. He was watching the outcropping of rock, seemingly judging something. "This shall be done faster if the rest of our party waits here."
Edmund nodded, slipping quickly from Phillip's back and pausing to pat the Horse's neck. Phillip nosed his shoulder gently, and he smiled a little in thanks for the support.
Peter was not dismounting, and he frowned when he saw why. For some reason his older brother was staring at the river with a rather dark, blank expression on his face. His eyes were haunted.
He reached up, touching his arm. "Peter?" he asked softly.
Peter jumped, looking around wild-eyed before his gaze settled on Edmund. He blinked, clearly startled. "Ed?"
"Aslan's going to carry us up," Edmund told him quietly, his eyes questioning.
Peter blinked again. "Oh. Right. Sorry."
He dismounted swiftly, pausing only when Edmund reached to touch his arm again. "Are you all right?" he whispered, concerned.
He received a faint wry smile for his trouble. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Peter retorted gently.
Edmund rolled his eyes, annoyed now, and drew away.
Peter caught his arm, seeming troubled again. "I'm sorry, Ed. Don't ... " He hesitated, his eyes pleading. "I will tell you," he offered. "It's just ... Now's not the best time to reminisce, is it?"
Sighing, Edmund nodded begrudgingly. He had a point. "But you will." It wasn't quite a request, but it wasn't a demand either.
For some reason, it made Peter smile. "I promise," he assured him, squeezing Edmund's shoulder.
Aslan was waiting patiently when they joined him, and didn't seem at all bothered that they hadn't come immediately. Now that the Witch was gone, he seemed relaxed and patient, even more so than he had been before. Edmund wasn't sure why, but the effect was rather soothing. If Aslan wasn't worried, then obviously they had nothing to worry about.
Climbing on the back of a lion wasn't exactly the same as mounting Phillip, and he was immediately aware of the distinction as he struggled. Peter had to push him the rest of the way despite the fact that Aslan had crouched down for them, and he was flushing in embarrassment by the time he straightened. No one said anything about it, but the way Peter hardly scrambled when he offered him an arm didn't help much.
He let out a rather unmanly squeak when Aslan abruptly leapt several feet up the cliff in front of him. Peter reflexatively tightened his arms around his waist with a slight gasp that was only slightly reassuring. He was never letting the girls catch wind of this.
All too soon they were at the top, and Peter was already slipping down from Aslan's back. Edmund swallowed hard, his eyes on the stone fox before them. He climbed down slowly, taking in the look of pain and fear on the fox's face as it flinched away. For a moment, he could almost swear he could hear the startled bark of pain it had made when she froze it.
"Ed?"
Peter's hand was on his shoulder, but he stepped away from him, not wanting comfort. That wasn't why he was here. And no matter how much he suddenly wanted to hide in Peter's tunic and pretend nothing had ever happened, that wouldn't achieve anything but making him a coward all over again.
He was so tired of being a coward.
Aslan crouched down in front of the little fox, and exhaled slowly.
Edmund watched, entranced, as the fox's fur ruffled in the breeze. He'd seen Aslan's magic before, after the battle of Beruna when he'd finally managed to pry his siblings off him long enough to see what he was doing, but the sight never ceased to amaze him. To think, merely breathing on someone could undo the Witch's curse. It was fascinating, and slightly disturbing on another scale.
He wondered if Aslan ever needed a mint.
There was a soft gasp, and the fox was back to all fours, bowing low. "Aslan, my lord," he whispered, nose nearly to the ground. "It is an honor."
"The honor belongs to us, Master Giles," Aslan returned gently. "Your bravery against the Witch has reached even my ears."
Giles ducked his head again, ears going back as he seemed embarrassed. "I have done what any other would."
Aslan seemed to smile. "And that, is precisely why you honor us, dear fox."
Giles looked up at last, and froze as he caught sight of Edmund and Peter standing just behind Aslan. "Your majesties!" he gasped. "I - I am so glad - "
Unable to bear it any longer, Edmund threw himself at the fox's feet.
The fox flinched back, and Edmund closed his eyes. It was the same reaction he'd given the Witch. He couldn't blame him, but ...
"I'm sorry," he choked out, leaning forward to bow his head as best he could from the kneeling position he was in. "I know I don't deserve - I'm so, so, so sorry. I didn't ... I thought if I told, that she wouldn't ... that you'd ... "
"Your majesty."
He looked up slowly, well aware of the fact that his face was wet.
The fox watched him with a curious expression, his head tilting slightly. "Are you all right, your majesty?" he asked.
Edmund blinked, startled. He sniffed, reaching up to wipe his eyes with his sleeve. "I'm ... I'm fine," he managed finally. "I wasn't ... you were the one that was hurt, not me."
There was a sound from somewhere behind him that made him think Peter might be glaring at him, but he ignored it.
Giles' eyes flickered behind him for a moment, confirming his suspicions, before returning to his. "And the Witch?"
"Gone," he answered, frowning a little. "Aslan killed her."
The fox's expression seemed to lift. "Then ... the prophecy is fulfilled? Narnia is safe at last?"
"Prophe - oh." He blinked, remembering. He'd nearly forgotten about it in all that had happened over the last few days. "Um, yes. I suppose."
Giles continued to study him for several minutes. "When you spoke, your majesty, it was in my defense."
Edmund frowned, confused. "Well ... I thought ... I didn't want her to hurt you," he said eventually. "I though if I told her what she wanted to know, about Aslan, she'd leave you alone." He closed his eyes again, bowing his head as his heart ached. "I was wrong, and I'm sorry."
Something soft and strangely scratchy settled on his hand, and he opened his eyes again, startled. A small black paw rested lightly on the fist he'd clenched. When he looked up, Giles' expression was soft, almost pleased now. "Thank you, your majesty, for placing such value on my life," he said quietly. "I am glad to see that you are safe."
Edmund's eyes burned, and he tried to smile. "I'm glad you're safe, too."
Something occured to him abruptly, and his eyes widened. "Oh, no!" he gasped. He whirled, trying to remember. He'd been over there, by the ledge closest to the water ... She'd been further up, closer to the trees ...
"Edmund?" Peter sounded alarmed.
He ignored him, scrambling through the grass, his fingers searching desperately. At last he touched something cold, and his eyes lit up in relief. "Found you," he sighed.
Cupping it carefully in his hands, he climbed to his feet, turning to Aslan. "Can you ... is there anything you can do?" he asked hesitantly, offering the stone butterfly with both hands.
Aslan stared at him for so long he was afraid there was nothing to be done. He faltered, his hands lowering slowly. "I'm sorry ... " he said uncertainly. "I just thought ... I mean ... "
"Edmund," Aslan interrupted, and his voice was soft and gentle and not at all angry, "Sometimes you amaze even me."
Edmund looked up, startled, and flushed as Aslan leaned forward to nuzzle his cheek, purring softly. Behind him he could see Peter watching him with an expression that could only be described as pride. Embarrassed all over again, he swallowed and held out the butterfly, staring at the ground as his cheeks burned.
Aslan's breath was warm against his palms, and he watched in awe as the butterfly's wings slowly began to twitch. To his surprise, it remained in his hands for a minute, as if getting its bearings, before at last lifting off into the air. But instead of flying away, it paused briefly to settle against his left temple. "Hey ... " he protested weakly.
"I think he's thanking you, Ed," Peter chuckled softly.
He meant to give his brother a look of annoyance, but the butterfly chose that precise moment to lift off, and he ducked away, trying not to giggle at the sensation. Blast it all, that tickled.
When he looked up again, Peter was watching him with an expression he couldn't quite place. The pride was still there, but there was a bit of fondness now, and a distance that hadn't been there. It was sort of like the way he looked at Lucy sometimes. For a moment, he almost thought Peter was going to cry.
"Kneel before me, Giles Fox," he heard Aslan say.
Edmund turned, delighted at witnessing the first knighting he'd seen since his own. There had been several knightings at Beruna, but he'd been too distracted by his siblings' fussing and trying to help the wounded to truly pay attention. And Giles, if anyone, deserved it. He was the bravest fox Edmund had ever met. Well ... the only fox so far, but still the bravest.
Aslan's paw gently touched the fox's shoulder. "And arise Sir Giles Fox, Knight of the Noble Order of the Table."
Edmund's eyes went wide. But that was - He looked to Peter, stunned and more than a little confused, but his brother only smiled back at him. "Your first knight, Ed. Lucky you," he said gently.
"I am honored to serve under you, your majesty," the newly appointed Sir Giles spoke up, bowing to Edmund.
Startled, bewildered, and utterly lost, Edmund looked back and forth between the three of them. Peter smiled, Sir Giles chuckled, and Aslan laughed.
