He inhaled sharply, his eyes flying open. But he stilled, feeling Hadassa's hand on his chest, her head beneath his chin. Sighing softly, he lifted his hand from his side, covering hers, while thinking of his nightmare. They always worsened when he knew he should speak with his siblings but withheld information. He studied the constellations in his canopy, allowing his mind to drift on an endless tide.
He shifted slightly, and Hadassa curled her body closer to him, reminding him of the night before, when his brother had seen her. How long would it be before Peter discovered that the woman in his bed was not some mere woman from Calormen or the Isles? Finally, as the ocean winds picked up and began to billow his curtains, he had reached a conclusion.
As he rose, she woke. He looked at her until her eyes turned down, which frustrated him slightly. He stood and left the room to change, knowing he had a mere two hours to study the papers on his desk and make his way to the courtroom. Peter was in no mood to attempt another lenient morning. When he returned, she was slowly lacing her dress, and again he could not help but approve of the Narnian gown instead of those Telmarine styles.
He walked up behind Hadassa, removing the laces from her fingers, remembering when he was younger and Lucy would remove her gown to collect seashells and play in the surf in her white chemise to prevent ruining the beautiful dresses she wore. Lucy had always begged him to help her lace it back up when they had to return to Cair in the late afternoons, and he'd always grudgingly complied, knowing he would be in for a scolding if he didn't help.
But this was . . . not the same. He closed his eyes as he finished the simple task, enjoying the contact and nearness of her. When had he become so base? His mind ridiculed him sharply for his fancies of love and perhaps even a happy lifestyle. He was not deserving of such things; he had banned himself from them the day he entered Narnia and spoke foolishly to the Witch. Sorrow filled him, and he knew what he must do this night, if Hadassa dared come to him again without his bidding. He could not allow her to continue this. Not as they were, not as he was.
Edmund knew that though he was dark and shadowed, his honor rose above the shattered fragments of his soul. He would control himself or kill himself, there could be no middle ground; no easy lies that would become hopelessly tangled in the end of this.
He pulled himself away from her, trying not to think of the way her hair smelled, or how small she was compared to him. "You are finished; go now before someone discovers you are not where you should be." He feigned disinterest, but before he could silence them, the words tumbled from his tongue without warning. "Can you find your way well enough in the dark?"
She turned almost hesitantly to look back at him, and he read shock in her eyes. He scoffed quietly. She displayed what he felt. "Yes, milord, I can return to my chambers easily enough." She moved to the tapestry on the wall, and though he thought of it, he did not take his eyes from her. But she stopped, and glanced at him again.
"What is it?" He asked the words out of habit, less from annoyance.
"Do. . . Should I return tonight?" A blush slowly colored her neck, touching her cheeks in a manner he thought attractive. "Forgive me if I am too brazen!" she added, looking terrified for a moment before her expression calmed.
He sighed, suddenly feeling the weight of his kingship and his sins upon his shoulders. "If you will, I care little. But if it is your desire, then you may return." He motioned for her to go, and moved to his desk. Only once he heard the tapestry fall back, and the hidden door behind it close, did he drop the parchments he had pretended to read, resting his arms upon the desk and dropping his head into his hands. He could not understand his emotions, and felt disquieted by such realization.
~|:O:|~
The Just King clasped Count Feren's hand as they stood outside at the top of the stairs, seeing him off. Apparently there had been a riot in Windmere, and Lune sent a messenger at once to call him to his estates to lay it down peaceably. It was a terrible pity, though the Just King seemed to be reining in an expression of mirth, and the Valiant Queen smiled brightly when the Count was speaking with Queen Susan and then to High King Peter. As Feren turned to descend the stairs where his mount awaited him below, Edmund shared a glance with Lucy. Clearly, Cor and Aravis had kept their promise, and the plantings of their rather large prank were coming to bear fruit.
"It is a terrible pity to see him depart; I was just beginning to find some interest in his company. Not that it was very intriguing from the start," Edmund remarked dryly, only glancing at his youngest sister for a fleeting moment before turning away.
"And I thought he was beginning to fancy you, sister," Lucy jested playfully, coming and placing her arm through Susan's as they walked abreast back into Cair Paravel.
"I think it should be a certain breed of man who will truly fancy me, Sunflower. For I do not enjoy them all; most bore me, to tell an honest truth," Susan returned almost absently, lifting her eyes to gaze at the blue Eastern Ocean for but a moment before returning her focus to the marble tiles beneath her slippers.
"What? The Gentle Queen decrying true love? And I believed you were its most ardent and loyal supporter! What has become of you?" Lucy teased, though inwardly she worried. When had Susan become so despondent about love? This was not like her, and the Valiant Queen was becoming worried that the lack of men willing to love Susan for herself was beginning to crush to her eldest sister's dreams.
"Love, dearest, is not all it is written and sung of. Often it is sacrificing everything for something small and insignificant. I believe if I do not find a good man I shall soon declare I am married to Narnia, and that no one but my people and my country and my royal siblings shall ever hold my heart." Susan gently parted herself from Lucy at the door near where Edmund stood. He listened to her words, and took them fully to heart. Lucy glanced to him, but he met her gaze for but a moment, before rapidly departing as Peter entered, the High King having stayed at the top of the stairs until Feren exited the gates.
"Well, what have I missed?" Peter watched both his dark-haired siblings depart, perplexity written upon his every feature. Lucy sighed, suddenly finding the world too tiresome and she too tired to face it any longer.
"I am going to rest, fair brother. And what you missed is something I do not fully understand myself. But as far as I can perceive the matter, it is because one thinks herself unable to have love and the other believes he is incapable of it. Or perhaps he considers himself undeserving of it. Either way, it is a vast and complex situation; clearly not something to be discussed and dismissed in a mere instant. I shall be with you for the mid-day meal." Lucy left to her chambers, leaving the High King very much alone and confused in the middle of the hall.
"I must talk with Susan, then. Edmund can wait a little longer, for I have seen what he thinks of love," Peter murmured to himself, moving toward the way Susan had gone down.
~|:O:|~
It was a middling day, he decided as he made his way to his chambers. Emrys had discussed with him the methods they would use to remove Ninvialazar on his return journey to Telmar, and the Tigress was pleased with his removal of Count Feren from court, though she did remark upon the fact that it was rare for him to have the aid of his sister now-a-days. The only thing he had not done was speak with Heshlotte, though he decided the snake could wait until morning. There had been some dancing that evening, but it was more for entertainment's sake than a true ball. However, Susan informed him before he departed to his chambers that in six days there would be a true ball.
Now, though, his mind was not bothered by balls or serpents or plots. It was harassed by what he was to tell Hadassa when she returned. Selfish fears set in, and he attempted to convince himself that to not tell her what he had done would be better. But in the end his sense overran his desires, and he knew he could not go on without honesty towards the Telmarine lady. He sat up at his desk for many hours, knowing she would not come until well after the castle had gone to sleep. But he was grateful for this respite, as it gave him time to mull over his words and just how he would tell her.
At last, he was shaken from his thoughts by the swish of the heavy tapestry and the entrance of Hadassa. She wore the Narnian dress once more, and he admired it on her for a moment before suppressing his sentiments. He stood as she entered the room, looking uncertain.
"Milady, please, sit," he murmured before she could speak, directing her to the bed as he slowly began walking the length of his bedchamber. He was dooming himself, he felt certain. She would never speak or look to him again, and she would surely loathe him for all of this life and well into eternity. But he had always known his sins were great, and had long ago resigned himself to such harsh truths.
"I feel this foolishness has gone between us long enough. I cannot let it continue. You must know me truly," he whispered the last words, turning back to her and continuing his slow pacing. He hoped it hid his unease, though nothing could hide the unconscious fisting of his right hand at the memories he brought to the fore of his mind.
~|:O:|~
Hadassa watched him, fear mounting in her heart. This day had gone on so sweetly, why must it end so dismally? She hated the way he walked back and forth before her, like some caged panther uneasily searching for an escape. His words sent a chill down her spine. What had he done that he believed she must know it? He was a king, she nothing more than a lady-in-waiting! How could anything of his past be hers to know? Tightly she clasped her hands in her lap, drawing her legs beneath her. Edmund had fallen silent, but she knew it was only a matter of time before he continued.
~|:O:|~
He dared a glance at her, and his eyes betrayed him, though he was not aware of it. They gave way to the fact that he was afraid, and that he was uncertain. Finally, he found his voice. "You asked of me, not long ago, how I gained my scars. Before that you questioned my adamant hate of your people and your country, though more yourself than the others. I evaded your queries, believing myself above you and the questions themselves too base for my concern." He stopped moving, staring off at the balcony.
"I was terribly incorrect. I have wronged you, Hadassa, and I cannot lie further." He turned to her. "It was your father who tortured me and held me prisoner, questioning me night and day about my plans to destroy Telmar. It was Vézian who slowly bled the life from me and the strength to fight back. He took a young man full of life and returned him void of love. I was consumed by hate, once I was well enough to stand without seeing two of all that surrounded me," he said, his voice filled with anguish.
"I have written, and hidden, reams of parchment covered with my thoughts from those days, and I tell you now they are the blackest things I have yet to scribe. When your father held me hostage, he destroyed my soul. I was already shattering, and he utterly laid me low!" He stopped sharply, ending his words in a snarl of hate. "He took what I had, and turned it into dust. He beat me until I could not stand, and when I could not stand he chained me to the ceiling so that he could apply the lash. When I could beg him to stop no more from my pain, he gave me a single night's respite! And then, as if I had not suffered enough, he took a dagger to my skin and swore I should not forget him as I screamed for his mercy!"
"No . . . no. . . Not my father. . . He was a harsh man, cold, but he would not do what you say! You are lying, it cannot be true!" Hadassa rose from her seat. She felt denial and anger, bound up in loyalty to her father's memory. Truly, he had not been the kindest of fathers, but he had never struck her or beat her; he had been gentle to her, though she was not the son he had long coveted.
Edmund turned sharply. "You did not know him as I did. He scarred me so I might never forget, and I cannot. He spoke truth in those nights, tormenting me. I have never been so ready to die since I fought with my siblings at Beruna against the Witch. I asked and pleaded for it on the nights he did not come. I cried out for Aslan, but it seemed in that hell he could not hear me. But . . . perhaps he did, for a woman sometimes came to me, and spoke gently. But I have not finished my tale yet," he concluded, exhaling sharply, trying to bury his rage.
Hadassa wanted to deny him again, to refute his words, but she held silent, waiting. Fear made her hands tremble, so she reached out and held tightly to the bedpost, trying to slow her fiercely pounding heart.
"Narnia and Telmar entered into war. We battled long and arduously until it began to feel as if the war should never come to an end. And then . . . it was as if all the gods, from all religions, had seen fit to bless me," he paused, swallowing and gathering courage to finish. "I crossed blades with Vézian in the midst of battle. I gazed into his eyes, and he knew me— he knew all my scars and all my anguish. So I took a dagger to his heart and as he lay grasping its hilt, I took his own blade and pinned him to the earth, letting him feel for but a moment the pain I had endured for days I cared not to count." He closed his eyes, realizing he had fisted his hands tightly as he spoke through gritted teeth.
"You murdered my . . . father?" Her voice broke in a sob, and her tone held shock. "He was perhaps not a kind man, but he was my father, and I loved him . . . He was my father! If not for his boyhood friendship with my king, I would be nothing more than a serving girl or a slave! I would have been as good as dead . . . because of you and your unquenchable longing for his blood!" Edmund turned to her, watching the tears fall down her face as she stood there.
He had never felt so hopelessly broken before, he thought. He had never felt so alone. The loathing in her voice struck him like a spear to the heart, and he was silent, knowing her feelings towards him, though perhaps biased by childish memories, were right. He was not something to be loved, he was unlovable. He was wiser than many, but nothing more. Now she knew it, and would not come near him again, he was certain.
"You . . . you let me love you when you knew all this about my parentage. . . You are cruel! What my people say about you in court is true, utterly and completely! You are black and dark and a deceiver! You enjoy your tricks and causing pain when it earns you something you want. I cannot go back from what I have done with you, and you knew this! I have been ruined by you. . . I believed you to care, somehow, for me. I truly am young and naïve!" She ran at him and attempted to lash out with her hands, like a child against a parent when they are told something they cannot bear, but he held her wrists and she came to a trembling stop, drawing back from him and his touch quickly.
"I am nothing more than what I have been fashioned into. A sword cannot sow wheat or a fire water crops. Perhaps now, though I am despised wholly, you see why I bear such contempt for your people and your king. Why I tried to hold myself far from you. But the world conspired against me, and thus I stand here, finding myself capable of a woman's love that I do not deserve— a woman who now hates me because of what I am. You will leave me, I know. But know when you do, I shall be irreparable. I shall spurn love forever, and darkness rule my soul utterly. Fear me then, for I will show no mercy toward you or your country." He spoke softly, his strength spent.
Hadassa inhaled a trembling breath, looking at him— once again nothing more than a man lost amidst a world that did not help him. A man unable to overcome his own demons because a small part of him preferred them over peace. Had he fallen in love with her? Could someone such as he truly love anything? He made it out as though she could mend him, but she laughed softly at such a thought. It was what she had believed in the beginning, though after a time she began to feel it would be impossible. Now she knew it truly was.
He moved to his desk, dropping into the chair, exhausted. He had no strength left. He felt utterly laid low.
"I will not ruin you; I shall leave you in peace, Hadassa. Please, take your leave if you have no more words to rail against me. And if you wish to, strike, for perhaps it shall remind me of reality's grim fate. I cannot love, and I was foolish to try." He closed his eyes at his words and rested his head against his hand, his thoughts dizzying him. Sleep. . . A retched sigh escaped him. It would not find him now. Perhaps never again. . .
A/N: *Looks carefully over the edge of the metaphorical ditch for angry readers holding rotten fruit and vegetables, not to mention more explosive projectiles*
Well, it's been far too long since I posted a chapter on this story! *nervous laughter* I'm so sorry, and I hope you all can forgive me! I hope you enjoy it, and I promise I'll attempt to get another chapter out to continue this one as soon as I can. *side-eyes this chapter* I'm not so sure what I don't like about this. . . but I don't especially like this chapter. I think it's too forced. (That is the reason why I haven't been writing it, I just can't seem to get it right.) I don't like the way Edmund tells Hadassa, I don't like the way she reacts (it's all better in my mind's eye, but for some reason I'm having a problem transferring what I see into words), and I just generally don't like the way I wrote this chapter.
But all my discontent aside, there's a lot going on in this chapter! I think my favorite part is where Feren leaves, and the conversation between Lucy and Susan, and Lucy's brief discourse with Peter regarding Edmund and Susan's views about their personal opinions on love. I always believed that Edmund and Susan were similar in that respect.
Anyway, please tell me what ya'll think! And tell me how you view this chapter; warning, I might rewrite it and post the revised version at the same time as I post the next chapter (whenever that will be next).
Happy reading!
WH