A/N: Ok guys…the promised hint for the sequel is here:
"Come near my brother again, and the next day which dawns upon you, you will be so engulfed with pain you will neither remember nor care who you are."
I'm not telling you who says it! Safe to say somebody has gotten very protective…and somebody else is in for far more than they bargained for.
IMPORTANT: memorise these before you read. It will avoid extreme confusion later on.
This is Peter
This is Edmund
This is the witch
Chapter thirty eight
Edmund gazed at Cifel in disbelief, then down to the shining, blood stained blade held out to him.
Cifel wanted Edmund…to kill him?
He...couldn't.
It would save Peter, but…to kill another in his place? Peter could never bear the guilt. And neither could Edmund. There had to be another way…surely there was…the deep magic could not be so cruel.
Cifel had misunderstood. Edmund had saved Peter before using only the power within him, his faith, and his belief in his brother. It had been enough, and he would do it again, a million times, if he had to.
He couldn't do what Cifel asked of him. He could never love anything more than his family, his brother…not if he lived until the end of time.
Yes, he was selfish.
Yes, he was a coward.
But he would rather have Peter…than all the worlds, and everything in them. Even if it meant condemning countless creatures to death, dooming an entire country to slavery…he would still risk all of it for one momentary glimpse of those china blue eyes.
He couldn't help his love.
Love was not something so carelessly tossed aside. It was indefinable, so cruelly beautiful, and so bitterly sweet. There was no form of wording which could describe it, no feeling which could compare.
And Edmund loved Peter with all his heart.
"I…can't let him go. I'm…sorry. I'm just not strong enough. But…I can't…kill you…"
Edmund stared into wide, frightened emerald orbs, and saw something he had never seen before in Cifel's gaze. The guardian was exhausted, worn away by the trials of his time. He had seen so much sorrow, felt so much hurt…he just wanted it all to end.
He had lost the hope which Edmund so desperately clung to.
And Edmund understood. Cifel was helpless. Reckless. Like Edmund, he would have given his life, given everything, just to ensure that which he loved lived on in safety.
"I'm sorry…but…I think I…understand…"
But Cifel had never had an older brother to turn to, no loving embrace of a father to frighten away the childhood ghosts. He had been alone, since…probably since Aslan had left the land to its own devices.
"I'm so sorry…"
Edmund edged closer, and reached out to take the blade, holding it aloft for one tremulous moment, as his hand shook violently. Cifel bowed his head, and neatly folded his hands in his lap, his eyes slipping shut.
Then he tipped his hand, and it fell to the floor with a resounding clatter.
"You've had to go through all this, just waiting for us, only to find we're nothing but weak, helpless children."
Edmund felt a rush of pity as Cifel looked up at him with wild eyes now shining with moisture. Even grown men cry, when they have lost all hope.
In Edmund's own world, they would be scorned for such weakness.
But here, in the golden land of Narnia…to be able to cry was to show you have the strength to admit, and ultimately overcome, your weakness.
Edmund reached out a shaking hand to rest on the guardian's shoulder, looking him steadily in the eye.
"Listen…I can't promise to love this land more, or even half as much, as I love my family. But…"
His hand tightened, and he looked down to Peter's peaceful face, resting from the storm and sheltered by the love of another.
To love another person, was to never be alone.
"But I swear to you; if I make it out of this alive, I will learn to protect it as you have for so many years. Love is not something which can simply be felt on a whim."
Edmund paused for a moment, watching the course of a single frosted tear down a pale cheek with desolate fascination.
"Will you trust me? I can show you how to…how to love again, love your land. You've forgotten, what it feels like, haven't you?"
Edmund allowed his hand to drop away, and he took hold of Cifel's wrist, drawing him over to kneel beside Peter's still form. He smiled slightly at his brother's face, brushing a stray strand of golden hair from his brow.
"Something created for good could not possibly wish to condemn simply for loving. No force of such power could. The deep magic was forged from love, wasn't it? Aslan's love, and hope, for his children."
Edmund placed a hand against Peter's cold forehead, and felt his own hand grow colder while Peter's temple grew warmer.
He smiled.
"Then surely…love, of any form…if strong enough…should be capable ofoverrulingit?"
He tore his gaze away from Peter and turned back to Cifel, looking him in the eye. Cifel's dark hair obscured most of his face, but Edmund could see those two emerald eyes staring through the curtain.
The guardian seemed almost afraid…to believe.
"I see you are a good, kind soul…I can feel the pain in your heart. Yes, your heart yet beats, Cifel."
Edmund placed his free hand over Cifel's chest, and the guardian glanced down at it, eyes kindling with some semblance of light. Edmund smiled weakly at him.
"So long as you believe, it will always be there. Love needs no vessel to contain it. It is dangerous, and powerful."
He drew back, and turned away, focusing once more on his brother. He lowered his head, speaking softly.
"Unleash it, and you can yet save your realm. You are strong enough. And I am strong enough…"
There was a swirling, chaotic fire kindling within him. It grew, pulsating smooth beats of energy throughout his body. His chest was almost unbearably warm, and strength licked like flames across his limbs.
"And…and Peter's strong enough, too."
He would never give up…and neither will I.
"Peter would never leave me, not alone, not here. Not in the face of any power on heaven, or on earth."
There is no force which could keep me from you. Not even death itself.
"Peter?"
There is no power stronger than the bond that we share.
"Peter…you can't die. You can't leave me."
'You know Aslan; you're giving me your life and saving no-one.'
"You know why?"
'So much for love.''
"Because I love you."
And I…love you.
And deep within the bowels of the land, something stirred, and a great shudder shook the very bones of the land with immense force.
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There was an uproar, and the sound of creaking timber and splicing blades. Lucy whirled about, and saw a huge disturbance in the centre of the ranks, and the griffins above let loose cries of fury.
She looked up to where Susan stood, atop the lip of the valley, beside Aslan.
The great lion was crouched low, his forelegs folded as though ready to pounce. Susan was staring out across the plain to the disturbance, and Lucy followed her gaze.
A glint of blue and white, cold as ice.
The witch.
She who had taken her brothers from her, torn her family, her very world, apart.
Lucy felt swirling, sickening rage fill the pit of her stomach, and she half rose to her feet, her hand going to the sheathed dagger in her belt.
"Nay, little missy."
She jumped, and looked down in surprise, to see quite the strangest dwarf she had ever seen. His face, though quite comical in appearance, held a solemn expression which prevented her from laughing.
"And why not, little man?"
He moved to stand beside her, his hand on the hilt of his axe, eyes narrowed as he scowled at the witch as she hewed her way through the ranks.
"Tis' not your burden to bear, miss."
Lucy glared at the ridiculous creature, anger flaring higher. She huffed, and crossed her arms, but nevertheless released her grip from her dagger.
"If it's not mine, then whose is it?"
The dwarf's face suddenly split into a triumphant grin, and he gestured with the blade of his axe back up to the hilltop.
"His."
And Aslan bounded from the outcropping, tearing down the valley at a graceful, yet regal pace.
And Lucy watched his course, with a small smile gracing her features.
The true battle, had only just begun.
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Edmund…in the woods. How? Where? Why was he here?
Why was Edmund there?
Peter's mind spun with a million questions, weaving a tight web of panic about him, and he breathed heavily as he came to the edges of the woods. The flowers were wilting now, the trees seeming foreboding rather than inviting.
He stumbled forwards over the tangled shrubbery, tripping, barely able to hear the calls of his father to stop.
Suddenly, the earth dropped away from beneath him.
He let out a choked gasp, flinging out his arms as he tried to catch his balance, but it did no good. His eyes widened as he noticed the cool, reflective surface of a pool beneath him.
"Peter!"
Two strong arms wrapped around his chest and wrenched him away, and they toppled over backwards together, Peter landing awkwardly against his father's chest. Winded, he panted for a few moments, lying still.
Then he started to struggle again, arms flailing, trying with all his might to free himself. Henry Pevensie sat up slowly, but refused to remove his arms from his son's chest.
"Let me go! Edmund!"
Peter felt his strength sapped from him as his father's arms refused to budge, and he fell back, collapsing against the solid body behind him. He could feel his limbs begin to shake, and he bit down on his lip, hard.
He would not. Not when his father was here.
"Peter, it's alright. It's okay. I'm here."
Peter shook his head vigorously as his father pulled him back against his chest. He felt none of the usual comfort he would have done, for the simple fact that this wasn't…truly real.
"But it's not…you're not…you're dead…"
And with a sudden, startling realisation, he let out a harsh sob and managed to choke out:
"I'm dead…and I killed you…"
He let his eyes slip shut, but still refused to cry. His father stiffened against him, ceasing in the gentle rocking movements he had been making.
"What on earth are you talking about, Peter?"
Peter listened with half dulled ears to the whispering, swirling voices within his head. The world span beneath him, his father's voice the last remaining anchor to reality.
"I…"
He swallowed thickly.
"I…failed you all, every single one…you're dead…and Susan, and little Lucy are…and…Edmund…"
Peter?
The voice sounded again, more distinct this time. He took advantage of the momentary lull, and leapt to his feet, weaving his way past trees and pools, pausing for a second at each to stare into their depths.
"Peter, come back here now! Peter!"
He ignored the calls from behind him, watching blurred shapes and colours on each differing surface. Not a sign of blue skies, or green grass, or anything which looked like Narnia at all.
Peter…you can't die. You can't leave me.
A hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around, and his eyes snapped up to look at his father's bewildered face. He started, his wild desperation momentarily halted.
"Just stop and think, Peter. I can help you; I know this place. Now calm down."
The clearing was filled with the sounds of heavy, gasping breaths, as Peter stood still and searched his father's face for the strength he craved.
"Listen to me."
Henry Pevensie shook his son gently, as though to physically knock some sense into him. Peter had always been so level-headed, so sensible. There was a wild desperation in his eyes which the elder Pevensie did not like, at all.
"There is only one way back where you came from; just stop, and listen. Listen to your heart, Peter. Trust in it."
Their eyes met.
"Trust in me."
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The lion had said that this would not be his final task.
But he could not afford to think upon that now; he had to get Peter back, to wherever he may have come from. That, and nothing else, the lion had said. He had wished for this one chance, and he wasn't about to waste it.
"Son, it's not your fault. No more than it is the fault of the sun that it is doomed to set. Sometimes things happen because they cannot be changed; for a reason."
Peter blinked confused, doubtful eyes up at him, but he seemed to be listening. Henry Pevensie placed hand on either side of his son's face, determined to get through to him somehow, to rid his eyes of that terrible weight.
"No matter what happens, no matter how many times you may fall, you need only clamber back to your feet to right the wrong. Yes, sometimes you'll fail. Yes, someday you will fall for good."
Those sky blue eyes were begging to clear, lighten like a ray of sunshine of a dreary day. The weight was lifting, the glimmer of hope beginning to shine once more in his son's face.
"But until that day comes, you just stumble back up and carry on. Can you do that, Peter? For me?"
"I…but you…you'll still be gone…won't you?"
Henry felt a stab of pain sear across his heart, and he drew his trembling child to him, enfolding him in a comforting embrace. He held Peter's head to his chest just as he had done when he had held him for the first time, beside a hospital bed at midday in mid spring.
"But I'll never be gone, Peter. Not as long as you, and the others, remember. You can always find me; right here."
He placed a broad hand over Peter's heart, as he drew away, looking him fondly in the eye. Peter smiled weakly at him, and Henry ruffled his hair affectionately.
"That's my brave boy."
You know why?
Henry hastily steered his son to the pool beside them, which the lion had showed him to earlier. It was not the largest, nor the smallest in the wood. But it was quite possibly the most simply beautiful; surrounded by small patches of blue flowers with bright leaves.
The earth had begun to shake.
Leaves and branches snapped and tumbled in a spiralling arc downwards, and the surface of the pool began to ripple, imploding inwards as a deep, rumbling sound rose beneath them.
Because I love you.
Edmund's voice echoed endlessly around the entirety of the wood. Peter had begun to shine with an unbearably bright sheen, and rays of pure white shot out of the pool, engulfing his son in a webbed cocoon of light.
Peter suddenly looked afraid.
"Daddy…I'm…frightened. What if I'm not strong enough? What if I fail again?"
Henry Pevensie smiled through a haze of blurred, salty tears.
"Then remember, and search within yourself…and I'll lend you the strength to carry on."
As Peter began to fall back towards the now turbulent surface of the pool, Henry stumbled forwards to bid one last farewell.
"I'll always be with you…always…and I'll see you again, I swear it!"
There was a sound like the chiming of a gong, and a shudder of immense power struck the wood, sending trees swaying and creaking in the shockwave.
"I love you, and Susan, and Lucy…and Edmund…don't forget to tell the others…please?"
Henry Pevensie cried out in pain as the blinding light intensified, and a hissing whisper followed by the crashing of liquid upon dry earth announced the last goodbye.
And I…love you.
Henry smiled at the echo of his son's voice, and sunk to the forest floor, alone once more in his solitary, aching emptiness. He stared at the calming surface of the pool where his son had disappeared, and reached forward to retrieve the damp, sky blue petals which now floated serenely upon its face.
He would return to them.
He would find his way home.
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A/N: Edmund was very mature in this chapter, and Cifel slightly weaker than usual. They, too, have sort of swapped positions. From here on in, there is only a bit more angst, then lots of fluff.
Cifel: (fast asleep)
He he…yeah, he's worn out, poor thing…
Next chapter: The battle ends, at last. How…we'll just have to see.
You review, me read, me write, me update. Savvy?