Disclaimer: I do not own the Pevensies or any Narnian characters. They are property of C.S. Lewis.
There are certain things a person notices when living with something else. After all, it is hard to hide things from your room mate, and clearly Edmund was having a hard time hiding things from Christopher. It was nearing Christmas break and Christopher had begun to notice that Edmund was, yet again, looking unwell, almost as if he never completely recovered from being sick. What was worse, he had become withdrawn.
Perhaps this was why Christopher decided to talk to Edmund. One day, when the two were studying in the room, he broached the subject. "Edmund?"
Edmund looked up, his face pale and drawn. "Yes?" he asked quietly.
"You seem out of sorts," Christopher said, trying to keep his voice light. "I thought everything was better. You and Peter talked, right?"
"Yes," Edmund said, frowning. "We talked and everything turned out fine. What do you mean by I seem 'out of sorts'?"
"You seem like you did before," Christopher said. "You know what I mean. I'm just concerned for you. Things didn't turn out so well last time. You never did tell me what was wrong in the first place."
"I couldn't," Edmund said, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "I can't, actually. Only Peter and Lucy understand and even they don't understand completely."
"Are you sure you can't tell me anything?" Christopher pressed. "I'm certain I can help with something."
Edmund's face paled even further and he looked, oddly enough, angry. "You wouldn't know!" he snapped quite suddenly, causing Christopher to start. "Do you want to know the truth? I'm not sure you would."
Christopher wasn't sure he would, either, but he said, "I do want to know. I want to help."
Edmund stood up. He was shaking. "I hate myself."
Christopher was shocked enough so that he couldn't process what was being said. The whole idea of Edmund hating himself seemed ridiculous; he didn't know why Edmund would even think like that. This was why he could only say, "What?"
"I hate myself," Edmund repeated, his voice low and angry. "I hate myself because I'm a horrid person. I've done something terrible in the past and no matter how much I try it still comes back to me. And I'm nearly tempted by the same thing! Do you know what it's like, feeling like you can't help but make the same mistakes over and over again? You don't, because you are a perfectly respectable person!"
"That isn't true," Christopher managed to say. "I've made plenty of mistakes."
"None that nearly got others killed," Edmund said, "and I never deserved forgiveness, because everything that is happening is still my fault because of that mistake! And I keep listening to Her because I'm not strong enough…I'm a horrid person!" His voice had risen to near a yell but now it became little more than a whisper. "I don't deserve to live."
Christopher was on his feet in an instant and his voice was raised as he said, "Don't say that! Edmund, you deserve to live and you are not a horrid person! Stop it!" He wanted to go up to Edmund and shake him until he started to see sense, but his better judgment told him not to.
"If you knew what I'd done you would agree," Edmund murmured darkly.
"I don't care what you've done because it doesn't matter now," said Christopher, meaning every word. "What matters is who you are now and I think you are a wonderful friend and I hate to see you this way. Please, Edmund, listen to me."
"You don't know!" Edmund snapped. He was shaking harder now and he closed his eyes for a second as though trying to block something out. "Stop it!" he yelled, and Christopher had the odd feeling that it was not him being addressed. Edmund then took a deep, shuddering breath and added, to Christopher this time, "You just don't know…" Then he bolted past him out the door.
Christopher had no idea what was going on, but he knew it wasn't good for Edmund to be like this. What he had said was a serious matter. He took out a sheet of paper and wrote a letter to Peter, the one person he knew could help. After all, he had nearly made things better once before. Surely this wasn't out of his hands.
He could only hope…
Once all the Pevensies were back home for Christmas, just a few short days after Edmund and Christopher's confrontation, Peter and Lucy convened in the privacy of her room. The subject was a letter concerning Edmund's well-being, sent from his room mate Christopher.
Lucy read the letter a second time while Peter paced the room, trying to think of how to best approach the situation. She couldn't seem to believe what she was reading. She looked up at Peter with tears in her eyes. "This doesn't sound like Edmund at all."
"I swear, if I could do something about this I would do it in an instant," Peter said angrily. "As it is, Edmund needs to know he can defeat this…this curse. It seems the magic gets stronger as he gets weaker, and it's pretty strong if he feels like he doesn't deserve to live. He hasn't felt that way in…a long time."
"No," Lucy said quietly, "not since he found out what Aslan did for him."
"And he realized that it wasn't the right way to be thinking," Peter added. "Unless…he still doubted afterwards. He most likely wouldn't have told us, if that was the case."
"Then I know what to do," Lucy said, standing up and wiping the tears from her eyes. "We need to erase those doubts."
"This involves a talk, doesn't it?" Peter asked, grinning a bit.
"Doesn't it always?" Lucy asked. Peter stood up as well and together they headed across the hallway to the boys' room. Peter opened the door, not feeling the need to knock, as it was as much his room as it was Edmund's. They found Edmund lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling.
"Hullo, good brother," Peter said cheerfully. He and Lucy sat on either side of his bed and Edmund sat up quickly, looking mildly annoyed.
"Why are you here?" he asked, glancing from one sibling to the other.
"To talk to you," Lucy answered gently. "We know something is wrong."
"I got a letter," Peter began.
"From Christopher, I suppose," Edmund finished. "I had a feeling he would write one. What was it about this time?"
"This is serious," Peter said. "He wrote that you said you were a horrid person and felt that you don't deserve to live. Edmund, you know none of that is true."
"What would you know of it?" Edmund asked hotly. "You've never made that type of mistake in your life. You've never given into temptation! No one can say anything bad of you!"
"We're not talking about me," Peter snapped, "and I have made my fair share of mistakes. We're talking about you and why you've been thinking that way. Edmund, please, just listen."
"I'm not going to listen!" Edmund yelled. "It's none of your business what I said or how I feel!"
"What do you mean?" Peter yelled back, causing Lucy to flinch. "It is bloody well my business to know why you think you should die! Edmund, I don't want you to be thinking something idiotic like that! Stop being thick headed and listen to me!"
"I don't want to listen to you! It doesn't matter what you say or do because in the end you can't do anything! It's my fight and my fight alone and you can't help me, so just stay out of it." The two brothers glared at each other, both breathing heavily. Then Peter, looking almost as if he would like to hit Edmund, stood up and walked out.
"Perhaps," Lucy started, her voice shaking, "perhaps you are right, and we can't do anything…Edmund, we can help, though, if you'll let us."
Edmund sighed and shook his head. Suddenly he looked terribly sad. "I'm such a horrible person."
"No, you're not," Lucy said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You are the best kind of person."
"That isn't true," Edmund said, pulling away from her hand. He didn't have much success; rather, Lucy moved forward and wrapped her arms around him in a hug.
"I don't lie," Lucy countered. "You know how terrible I am at lying." Edmund said nothing because he knew it was true. "It takes a great person to go from being a traitor to becoming a great King known as the Just."
"I'm not that King any longer, you know," Edmund said quietly. "You don't see the people around here calling me their king."
"Oh, but you are," Lucy said earnestly. "None of us are kings and queens here, but we are kings and queens. After all, Aslan did say that once a king or queen in Narnia, always a king or queen in Narnia. We are still the same people we were then and you have to believe that, Ed. You are still a great, Just king, even if we're not in Narnia. Please, believe me."
"I'm not sure I can," Edmund said quietly.
"Edmund, listen to me," Lucy said seriously. "You need to forgive yourself, otherwise things won't get better. Don't listen to your doubts." She stood up and exited the room, leaving Edmund alone to think about what she'd said. For a few seconds she lingered at the door before heading downstairs to check on Peter.
Peter was sitting in the living room looking distraught. Upon seeing her he looked up and told her, "He's right, you know, and I hate to admit it. I can't do anything."
"We can be there for him," Lucy pointed out. "I think you two should make up. That is part of being there for him, after all."
"You're right," Peter sighed, standing up. "How did the talk go?"
"I left him to think about what I'd said," Lucy answered. "He listened, but I'm not sure if he believes it or will take it to heart. But he heard me. I'm sure he's ready enough for you to go talk to him."
"Then I will," Peter said, crossing the room. He paused at the bottom of the stairs and turned back to Lucy with a small smile on his face. "Wish me luck?"
"Good luck," Lucy said, grinning as Peter disappeared up the stairs. Her smile faded when she thought about how hard all of this was on all three of them. "They're both going to need it."