So, I may have had several reviews on Recalling the Cry, saying they wished they'd seen this particular scene. And I was going to make it a short snippet but suddenly it was over 2,00 words and wasn't short anymore.

A part of my head kept saying I already wrote an AU, where this sort of happens with Oreius, and surely that's enough—but then I got still another review asking for it. If this feels like the same meal warmed up in the microwave and not quite as tasty, sorry!

By the time Ed made it out of the secret passageway, the Narnians had already gone. All of them, he guessed from the sounds, except the King and Queens. He closed the secret entrance and walked towards the Narnians' door.

He couldn't bring himself to knock. Not yet. Not…

He knew he needed the answers to his questions, and so far the Narnians and Toma and proved the most truthful, but—

He was not sure he was ready to face the person he had been. Or what he had done. Especially to these three, the steady, slightly grim king, the hurting yet kind older queen, or the transparent, frustrating youngest queen.

He was not sure he trusted them completely.

But he'd remembered the Lion, the face of the Lion, and that would have to be enough. It would be enough, if the King were the Lion's King, as the King had claimed.

Ed knocked.

There was a slight pause, then, "Come in," in the older Queen's tones. Ed opened the door. The three—they were alone—stood in the middle of the large room, very close together. The King's face, in the brief moment before he took in Ed, looked very tired, and the older Queen's eyes were on her brother's face, looking concerned.

Ed did not have time to see the youngest Queen's look before the three registered his presence, and their looks changed to shock.

Ed cleared his throat. "May I…" He gestured at the room, filled with chairs and couches and the same blue and gold curtains over the windows. The older Queen shook her head a bit, recovering her poise and blanking her expression to a polite welcome.

"Please come in," she requested. She waited till he had, shutting the door behind him—he didn't think he wanted this conversation overheard—and added, "Please, sit." She sat herself, her brother sitting on the couch beside her, and Ed decided to sit across from them. It seemed right, apt, even, when he was coming to them for judgement.

That feeling was rather spoiled when the youngest Queen joined him on his couch, and Ed tried to suppress his flicker of alarm.

I wronged their kingdom. And may do so again, in their opinion, and if she is their assassin…

I still think you're an idiot for thinking that.

Ed cleared his throat again. He wasn't quite sure where to begin. I remembered I served your enemy and could you possibly tell me if there is mercy for me seemed a poor way to begin. Ed rubbed his hands up and down his legs, trying to figure out what to say.

"Can we do anything for you?" the younger Queen asked, and Ed cleared his throat again, shifting his weight so he sat up straighter.

"Can we make you more comfortable?" the King asked, his tone a little dry. Ed looked at him, and he just raised his eyebrows.

"It's pretty evident you're not at ease," his sister added from beside him, smiling a bit at Ed. "Please, tell us whatever is troubling you."

"I…I have remembered something. A few things," Ed clarified, and then stopped as all three of the others froze. Their eyes stayed fixed on his face, and their faces—hope, brighter than the sunrise flooding the air above the sea with light, filled their faces.

"You remembered?" the girl beside him asked breathlessly. She seized his hands. "Ed, you remembered!"

Ed looked down at the tiny hands grabbing his own, and then back up at her face, flooded with a smile. "I don't think I remember what you think I remember," he said hesitantly. I hope they know what I mean by that, he thought. And then ached, because they did, he knew they did, because the hope fled the Queen's face and suddenly all the hurt he had ever seen in her sister's was written all over her, from the short breath through trembling lips to the tears that sprang to her eyes.

"Lucy, let go," the other Queen said, though her voice was gentle. And the little girl did, but once she had, Ed did not know what to do with his hands. He put them back on his lap and looked at them.

"What do you remember?" the King asked.

"I—I remembered fighting Narnians, a few of them. I remembered a Giant lifting me up. And just now, I was listening—that is, I was trying to find the truth—anyway, I remembered a bit more. I remembered being in a cold, cold room, in front of a throne, and tall, terrible woman on the throne."

Both the King and Queen opposite him made movements, as if they meant to come over but stopped themselves, their faces shocked; their little sister, with less restraint, pushed herself over on the couch, her arms reaching out, till the older Queen's warning "Lucy," stopped her.

That…was going to be a hug?

I tell them I remember being with their enemy and their reaction is a hug?

"Keep going," the King said, his tone strained, his body straight and tense.

Obey the King's command, I guess. Even if I have no idea what they want to know.

"I remember…eating with her. Sitting with her, behind a short man and some…horses? Or something like that. And then," he paused, because somehow this was the hardest to tell, this was where mercy stood or fell, "I remember meeting a Lion."

"Aslan," the girl beside him breathed, and he had to smile at the reverence and wonder in her tone. But the smile fell away quickly.

"Probably." He folded his hands together, clenching them tightly, and looked at the King. "I remember eating with your enemies. And standing in front of her throne. And that the Lion forgave me—that too." He couldn't keep looking at the King when he said the rest, looking instead at his hands. "I came…for judgement, I guess. For what I'd done wrong."

"Your actions were partly my fault," the King said. "I was angry with you, and that helped you to go wrong."*

Ed raised his eyes to the King's face. It…looked honest, and a little sad, and he didn't know what to do with that.

What were you angry with me about?

Wait, no. That is not what I was expecting a King to say.

This doesn't feel like King and Queens in judgement at all, actually.

But no matter how this feels—should I ask about what I really want? Can I trust them enough for that?

I think—I think I can.

"I am not asking this of a King," Ed said, trying to be as quiet and calm as he could, but he couldn't help the waver in his voice. "But did you forgive me?" Because the answer to that matters, more than I can say.

"Yes," came the chorus in quick response, the three of them all reassuring him at once—and Ed froze.

"Say that again," he demanded, forgetting he was talking to royalty, forgetting everything but the sound of three voices at once. They traded a look with each other, and he couldn't help it, he couldn't take this waiting, "Say it again!"

"You're forgiven," came from the King, in quieter tones from the older Queen, and "Yes," from the younger Queen.

And Ed had to smile, because that wasn't what he meant, it wasn't, but somehow—somehow it was still familiar.

"The three of you were there when I fell," he said, not a question.

"We were," the King said slowly, warily. "But we did not send you over the cliff."

"No!" Ed quickly reassured them, watching as the older Queen's hands relaxed a little, as the younger bit her lip. "No, I remember—I remember you all horrified. That is, I remember—I remember the cry I heard as I fell. I remember it was you." He looked from one to the next in turn, hoping, trying to imagine that maybe, maybe, he had found his family. "I remember I would have given anything to help the three of you, to stop that cry." And he watched as both Queens' eyes filled with tears, as the King's shoulders slumped and relief filled his face, letting go of an impossible burden.

"So you'll come home with us?" the youngest asked, putting her hands on Ed's again. And the other two did not stop her. "You'll come back to Narnia with us, right?"

I can't help but think that would make it easier to kill me.

But Ed thought of the Lion's face, of the way the King looked when he spoke of the Lion, and of the reverence in the girl's tone when she said His name.

If I have to choose between trusting the Lion and trusting the Duke, I know who is more trustworthy. So I'll trust the ones who follow the Lion.

While he'd thought, the King's tension had come back, the older Queen's lips had parted in quick breathing, and the youngest's hands had tightened on his own. They clutched still tighter when he nodded.

"Good!" she said, smiling that wonder-filled smile, even as a few more tears fell down her cheeks.

"Then we've got to get out of here," the King said. "Su, get word to Robin, tell him to alert the rest. Go to the ship in pairs. I'll tell Oreius. Lucy, you get Ed to the ship."

"But she's terrible at sneaking," came out of Ed's mouth before he thought, before he remembered he was still talking to a King.

"Well, yes, but you make up for that. There's a secret passage—"

"In the garden, yes, I know. We'll use that. Your Majesty." Ed added the title as an offering of politeness, before remembering it made the King wince before. But the King's smile had grown so wide—at Ed's tone?—that the added title didn't seem to distress him.

"Take care of her," he said to Ed, rising. The older Queen rose as well and walked with graceful, swift steps towards the door.

Ed hesitated. He had to admit, no alarm had been rung, there was no reason to fear the King and Queen would be accosted in the Duke's palace, but…"Take care of yourselves?" he asked quietly, and the King nodded. The older Queen turned, her hand on the door, to look directly at him.

"We have you back. Do not fear for us, Ed," she said, and Ed caught his breath. Her beauty had been evident before, but always with that hint of pain, or strain. Now that was gone, and suddenly he knew—he knew—that this was his family. That they loved him.

Then she was gone, and the King followed her, and would follow her, Ed guessed, till he could pair her with another Narnian.

That left him with the youngest, and he rose, holding his hand out to her. She took it without a second thought, and he led her towards the door.

Only she stopped, a few seconds later, pulling on his hand. "It's in here," she said, tone suddenly filled with joy. "Oh, do wait!" She let him go, turning back towards one of the tables, and there, Ed saw with alarm, stood a glass of water.

A very familiar glass of water.

And she handed it to him.

He took it—it felt like a habit as familiar as walking beside the King—but looked down at it, then back at her face.

Her face, filled with joy and perfect trust and anything, anything but evil intent.

And he had just decided she was family.

He downed the glass of water in one gulp, then dropped it as something like the warmth of Christmas raced through his body and to his head.

And Edmund remembered.

A/N: I'm getting emails for private messages but not reviews, so if you review something and I don't respond, I am sorry! I just don't know it's there. I've double checked the settings and the notifications are on, but...