They made his heart whole.
Hearing his name called in the distance, his head whipped round, eyes frantically searching. The voice pierced through the cool morning mist, full of fire and sweetness and everything he had so longed to hear for so long. His eyes found her, and he felt a true smile creep upon his lips as he turned his face to Aslan, pleading. His joy could not be contained - his new heart throbbed with sheer love and adoration for the One who rescued his family from his own destructive intentions. And then He chose to save him, too. His eyes welled with tears once more, his heart worshipful. He snuck a peek back at his beautiful sisters, desperately wishing to be with them at the bottom of the hill in that instant.
That's when he saw him.
His heart skipped a beat.
Dread began to filter back into his system, his resolve wavering.
He was a liar, a thief, a scoffer, a murderer.
He was a traitor.
And his brother knew that nearly as well as Aslan did.
Somehow, he thought Peter wouldn't be nearly as gracious and absolving as Aslan had been, and the idea of facing him now brought back the stinging pain of remorse and self-loathing. He wished he could hide. His eyes locked with the Lion's and he took a shuddering, gasping breath. His body trembled.
"I can't do it."
"My Love is sufficient for you. Go, I will be with you."
He did as he was told.
His knees shook. I can't do it.
His broken lip trembled. I can't do it.
His breathing was shallow and fast. I can't do it.
His heart thumped against his chest like a caged bird, screaming for escape.
I can't do it.
He faintly heard the whisper of gigantic paws across the tall grass as he stumbled down the hill, not daring to look up. Not even a glimpse - he couldn't do it.
As he neared them he suddenly began to feel self-conscious as he noticed the wicked cuts and abrasions littering his legs - wounds from the numerous falls and generous whippings, the beatings he began to recieve once Spring had returned three days before. Some cuts had become irritated again and now bled freely - he was a disgusting sight. Shame colored his cheeks, and he did not raise his eyes as he came to a halt an uncomfortable distance from his family.
He felt Aslan's presence leave him - it took all he had not to sprint after him, but his feet were perfectly stuck in place in the soft grass beneath him. He was alone, now - he felt the weight of everyone's eyes upon him and he shrunk visibly.
He flicked his eyes upwards to meet with ice blue for just a fleeting moment before back down to his torn shoes, feeling crushed beneath the weight of his gaze.
"Hello," he said, unsure of himself and very alone. He wished very much to flee - the silence was suffocating him.
Warm, tiny arms found their way around him, encircling his waist, aggravating his scars but calming his wild heart. He paused only for a moment only in surprise before wrapping his own around her, losing himself completely in his returning joy. The warmth of her emenating against him was something he had been so sure he would never feel again - it was something he had never wanted before, but too late he had realized how very much he desperately needed it. She snuggled up against him, squeezing him tight - he buried his face in her hair, biting his lip as tears of gratitude threatened to fall. This was the greatest gift Aslan could ever give to him, he was so sure.
Susan came next, looking crestfallen at his appearance, but quickly pulled him into her comforting embrace, rubbing his back in calming circles as their mother used to do. Each pass of her hand resulted in fiery, searing pain, but he bit his tongue and breathed deeply, taking in the sweet familiar smell of her, the flowery fragrance she had always carried. He felt calm and secure once more.
"Are you alright?" She asked, the feigned lightness in her voice giving away her deep concern. She examined him closely, and he felt shame at his appearance once more. He felt so much all at once - the irritated scars, the broken skin, the throbbing bruises, the aches of his muscles, the intense hunger, the fatigue of his being. His pains must have been nullified before Aslan, he now realized, and he was grateful, but the return of pain was a cross he felt he could gladly bear in return for his siblings, so he pressed on. He also felt so much love and sorrow for his family, the family he had split and nearly killed- he wasn't quite sure what to say. He looked down at his feet, shaking his head. "I'm a little tired," he said humbly, smiling a bit at his sister's reaction to his vast understatement. She looked flustered, searching him up and down, and he was so glad to be finally home where he belonged-
"Get some sleep."
The command came from Peter. Edmund's face became sheet white, all the color drained as his heart caught in his throat once more, stepping away from his sisters as though he had been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to. He looked up at his brother, eyes wide. Peter stood, seeming to tower over him in his kingly clothes and handsome sword. His blue eyes did not falter, and Edmund looked up into them, searching for any trace of acceptance in them, and finding none. He could not read his brother's expression, but it was steady. Eyes flicking back downward, Edmund reluctantly began walking in the direction Peter gestured toward, his joy replaced with sheer regret and helplessness. He dared not look back at his sisters - he couldn't bear it if they had looked at him with the same stony face his brother did.
"And Edmund?"
He faltered, glancing backward. Peter's expression had broken a bit, and he could see something in his face, something he wasn't expecting. He didn't even breathe, waiting.
"...I'll be in soon."
Edmund nodded, stumbling toward the tent, anxiously awaiting Peter's arrival.