Disclaimer: If I owned it, I'd be busy making the next CoN movie.
Well, you guys are absolutely fabulous. So fabulous that you've guilted me into posting a second chapter, even though I should have written it a long time ago. So here you go (finally)- the second chappie all my dearest reviewers more than deserved. Hope you like it.
Ice.
Everything was ice. Ice and diamonds.
The ground felt hard beneath Edmund's back, sturdier than anything he had ever lain on. He imagined it must be made of the same material as the rest of the enormous cavern. The concave walls curved up so far above him that their meeting point was hidden by darkness, which seemed strange to the boy, as the walls themselves half-glowed with a shimmering luminescence, looking much like ice as the sun beat down on it, melting away the horrid cold.
Yes, like ice.
He didn't know when he had gotten here, or where he was; the only spark of consciousness in his mind was a faint warning that wherever this place might be, it was wrong. Dangerous. Cold, sharp, harsh. He knew he should leave, but…the ground was so hard and smooth. And slippery. How would he ever get up?
Like ice and diamonds.
Beneath the faint light it emitted, Edmund could see the peculiar color of the wall, a clear, pigment-less color that was less than even white or blue. And yet, he could see nothing outside; it was transparent but opaque. It reminded him of a frozen diamond, for some reason.
"Ed…?"
The quiet voice drifted across the silence, echoing faintly off the luminescent surfaces.
"Edmund?"
It sounded more urgent now, the single sound all alone in the great emptiness of the cave.
"Ed, please don't ignore me…I know you're here."
The voice seemed close to begging now. A different sound wandered through the great void as a gentle sigh escaped from a pair of frozen red lips. Somehow, Edmund just knew, without seeing or even wondering, that those lips were pouting, pouting at him, upset that he wouldn't answer.
"Please- where are you? I don't…I just don't want to be alone…anymore…Ed?"
The dark vertex he had been staring blindly into suddenly burst, exploding soundlessly into a bright golden spark that swirled around and around, blending into itself and twisting away viciously, whirling into spirals and stars and great, wordless shapes that smothered his eyes, sending him into darkness.
"Oh!"
The bright, excited voice broke through the empty, empty, empty space; where had everything gone? Couldn't see anything but the nothingness, couldn't hear anything but that single, chime of a word, couldn't feel anything but the hard, hard, hard he lay on.
Everything, everything was so empty. Like ice and diamonds.
"So that's where you've been hiding!"
The gentle voice had disappeared, replaced by some type of twisted twin that held the same pitch and inflection, but none of its emotion. The exclamation had been sharp and empty, not at all the tempting kindness that had drifted towards him before. And yet, he recognized it, as he had before. It was someone he loved…someone he…feared? Dangerous? Wrong? Cold, sharp, harsh? The twinge of alarm shot through him again, forcing his eyes open. The glowing gold light had dwindled into a small, soft shape close to him- a curl, he decided. A curl of hair.
An ear followed the amber hair, unadorned and small, then a rosy, breathless cheek, a familiar face emerging from the nothingness.
"L…Lucy?" Edmund forced out between lips so numb he could hardly whisper. But she must have heard him, for the girl gave a quick nod, hair bouncing up and down like a curly halo around her.
"Of course! Haven't you heard me calling?" she blinked at him, a smile floating around her lips.
"I- no, I haven't…sorry, Lu, guess I must've…must have fallen asleep…" the boy mumbled dazedly. With all his attention on the girl standing over him, Edmund forgot entirely about his precarious condition lying on the icy ground. Rolling over, he pushed himself up easily and tottered to his feet, feeling dizzyingly light in this place. Lucy didn't seem to notice his stumbling, though, as she kept her hand tucked primly behind her back, offering only an innocent smile for help.
"Well, come on then. Everyone's waiting, and you have certainly kept them long enough with all this sneaking off and hiding," she chided.
"Sneaking off?" he repeated, the phrase catching in his mind as something important, something he should know more about.
"Well, yes!" Lucy exclaimed with an exasperated shake of her head. "Unless you'd rather me call it what it really is- running away!"
"But…but why would I run away, Lu?" Ed staggered forward toward the girl. Her words had triggered something painful; his brain was screaming at him, telling him about running and packing and gold and tears and parties and castles and cool night skies. About cool night skies that terrified him- too peaceful, too wide, too quiet. Lucy's lips curved down sharply, eyes narrowed as she glared at him in…in what? Disappointment, fear, anger? What had he done wrong?
"Hurry up, Edmund," she replied stiffly, her young face as smooth and hard as the surrounding walls. "They'll be angry if we arrive much later."
The girl turned away abruptly, marching across the polished cavern, and leaving Edmund without a single glance back.
"Lu!" Edmund called out, hastily stumbling after her. The glistening floor remained as slippery as it had looked, throwing the boy off as he hurried to catch up to her. Reaching his sister's side, he fell in pace with her, though his feet slapped loudly against the ground, obnoxiously proclaiming his presence to the entire world. Her feet slipped along gracefully, hardly rising from the icy surface before they continued their shuffle. Of course, it didn't really matter how noisy his footsteps were, as no one seemed to be around except Lucy and him, but…everyone was waiting for them, apparently.
"Is Peter there?" he blurted out thoughtlessly, causing both children to wince as the silent, sacred tranquility of the great collapsed, completely ruined by his noisy question.
"Of course the High King is there!" Lucy snapped at him, "And so is Queen Susan the Gentle, if you'd care to know."
"Well, I was only asking, Lucy!" he answered heatedly. "You don't have to be nasty about it."
"Maybe if you weren't so stupid about it!" Lucy shot back. "And it would do you well to remember that I am a queen as well."
"Well, I haven't heard you calling me King Edmund," he snarled sharply. He regretted the words, though, as his sister slowed, and then turned all the way around to look him in the eye.
"No, Ed. No, you haven't." Her voice held something almost like regret, some passing sorrow whose tears hardened into ice once the moment of weakness passed. She whirled back around, marching with more purpose and speed this time, her fur cloak fluttering behind her in the still air of the cave.
"…I like your coat," he offered quietly as an apology, falling into a walk behind his sister once more.
"Well, that's nice. Yours is decent as well, I suppose," Lucy replied shortly. The comment confused Ed for a moment- mine as well? Patting his back, his hand was rewarded with the warm, fluffy feel of fur; so he did have one. Interesting…but when had it gotten there? Edmund pulled part of the cloak over his shoulder to study, yelping when a sharp pain shot through his finger and hand.
"Lu, it bit me!" he exclaimed, holding up his wounded finger for the girl to see. She half-turned, taking in the small touch of blood dribbling from the cut.
"Wolves do that sometimes," she offered apathetically. "And I really am trying to be patient, but couldn't you even try to remember to address me properly?"
Wolves? The boy twisted his head as far as it would go, peering over his shoulder to see the panting muzzle of a wolf trailing from the bottom of his coat like a bizarre, misshapen tail. Two golden eyes blinked at him as well, peering out of somewhere in the fur.
"Oh. I didn't realize the coat was alive," Ed said simply. Strangely, he wasn't too bothered by the fact. It just didn't seem…important. Turning his head back to the front, he let out another quick cry of pain as something scraped across the bottom of his chin. Looking down, he found that he had cut himself on one of the two clasps of the wolf-cloak; this one was a small diamond, cut in the shape of crown. The boy knew what would be on the other side, and when he turned to look, he found himself correct: a small icicle, chipped away to resemble a crown as well, fastened the cloak to him on the other side.
Ice and diamonds, glittering everywhere.
Everywhere.
He couldn't explain why, but panic suddenly consumed him, shooting adrenaline through his veins and shocking his muscles into frenzied spasms. Everywhere! He gasped, trying to yell, call out for Lucy to help, but the cloak caught as his throat, wrapping around and around until he couldn't whisper a word. The diamond was slitting his throat open; he could feel his blood and the icicle's melting slush meld together, slipping away from his skin.
And Lucy was watching.
He tore frantically at the thick fur constricting his throat, scrabbling and clawing at his own skin as much as at the wolf's. Distantly, he felt a jolt of pain from his knees as they slammed into the hard floor, but then his vision went black, went empty, and he couldn't see, couldn't breathe, couldn't talk, couldn't rip it away from his neck, couldn't do anything.
And Lucy was laughing.
Everything was spinning and hurt, blurry images dancing into view and then receding again before he could blink- his father's boots, sleek and shiny in black perfection, lumps of sugar piled high on a table, slivers of diamond frozen inside a glacier, a golden mane rippling in the air like a proud war banner, finely sewn robes trampled under his own feet, and Peter's sharp blue eyes, so filled with disappointment.
And Lucy was saying- "Didn't you know, silly boy? Only royalty can wear Wolves."
Edmund tried to whisper that he was royalty, he was a king, please, if she would only believe him, he was, he was! He pushed against the blackness, trying again and again to force the words out his throat, please someone help, help, and he couldn't breathe, couldn't breathe-
And Lucy was whispering- "It was your choice, Ed. Don't try to fight it."
---
With a hoarse gasp, Edmund snapped up, both hands flying instantly to his neck. He had to get it off, it was strangling him, he needed to- the thought froze in his mind as the blessed sound of ragged breath, flying in and out of his throat, met his ears. Flopping back on the ground with one hand still draped protectively over his neck, the boy waited for the sharp, panicked breaths to slow down, developing into great, long sighs that drained all the air from his lungs and expelled it in one greet whoosh.
It had been just a dream. Just a nightmare. Nothing real, he told himself firmly, trying to convince his thrashing heart that it could calm down and beat at a normal pace, not this frantic sprint. Rolling to his side, Edmund gazed blearily into a tree trunk that looked almost familiar. After a few moments of scrutiny, he realized that it must be the same tree he had staggered to last night, legs exhausted from hours of walking (and quite a lot of stumbling and crawling toward the end). The hazy, half-light of sunlight revealed a very different scene than the dim moon had last night; when he had blundered into the place last night, all that the moonlight had illuminated was the soft cushion of leaves and petals that layered the earth floor. Now, though, he could see the reason for all the fallen leaves- the tree he had slept under was colossal. Its trunk alone looked as wide as he was tall, and, turning his head up toward the sky, he didn't even dare to guess at the towering plant's height. Higher than any of the other trees near it, obviously, because its umbrella of branches and leaves threw a dappled shadow over himself and the rest of the small, shrubby bushes and flowers that crowded around the magnificent tree.
The random shafts of light that fell through the canopy shifted with the breeze, dancing over the ground like a child playing with torches ((see footnote 1)). A trail of circular dots of light led Edmund's gaze away from the awe-inspiring trunk to where his bag of supplies lay, tossed down without a thought yesterday. Sitting up once more, slower this time, he rubbed the side of his head with a wince; perhaps he shouldn't have walked so long last night. The slow, subtle ache of a migraine was already inching into his skull, probably from lack of sleep or excess of exertion. Ed was never one of those people who could go to bed a couple hours late and wake up the next morning feeling cheerful and refreshed; if he didn't have enough sleep, his head announced the fact quite painfully.
The boy let out a soft groan as he tottered unsteadily to his feet. Along with his throbbing head, both his legs burned and ached intensely, another reminder for him not to be as thoughtless as he had been last night. Obviously, he wasn't walking again for that long any time soon.
Staggering with stiff legs over to his bag, Edmund fished out a small roll from his assortment of food stuff. Not willing to sit on the ground and then not be able to rise again, Ed paced slowly around the tree as he nibbled on his breakfast, stretching out his legs as gently as he could. Normally, the boy would have devoured the bun and at least a handful more, but his stomach didn't feel quite so ravenous this morning…maybe it was because of that dream.
Half-stumbling in his mindless pacing, Edmund shook his head to clear away the pang of fear and doubt that came with the memory of the nightmare. The whole thing was ridiculous, albeit easily explained. There were no hidden meanings or symbols in there; it was no ominous foretelling of the future. He had been terrified of wolves and wary of ice since the White Witch, and now he was feeling guilty about leaving Narnia. That's all there was to it.
He nodded quickly, stuffing the last few crumbs of bread into his mouth and brushing off his fingers. Honestly, he hadn't really thought ahead about how he would travel- if his siblings were to send animals out looking for him, shouldn't he travel at night, when they were less likely to see? He considered the idea for a moment, before declaring it rubbish: reaching the Wardrobe quickly was his goal, so he'd travel as far as he could, as soon as he could.
Head still bobbing up and down in a nod, Edmund rounded the trunk, circling back to where his bag lay open…with all those things spilling out of it? He stared at the supplies that looked like they had been shoved aside so something could enter, trying to recall if he had left it like that after retrieving his breakfast.
"I guess I was just clumsy," he reasoned quietly to himself. Speaking out loud made him feel a little safer; if no one else answered, then it just made it that much certain that he was alone in this little clearing. Still, he tried to quiet his footsteps as he neared the sack, crouching down slowly next to it (though his legs screamed in protest against the agonizing movement). His hand crept out hesitantly and he laid his fingers on it with the greatest delicacy.
Even with all his precautions, something inside the bag felt (or heard) the pressure and, of course, panicked.
Rippling with motion, the sack leapt a few inches into the air, lifted by some invisible hand, and then crashed back to the ground with a loud whump! Edmund tried to lean away and somehow defend himself, but ended up overbalancing and falling out of his precarious squatting position, landing squarely on his bottom. The bag continued to shiver and its contents rattled feverishly, like a demon raged inside, demanding it be let out of its prison.
Snatching up a stick from the blanket of leaves, the boy quickly snagged it under one of the straps and heaved the bag into the ground, shaking it back and forth as far as he dared without it sliding off the stick. A slender green shape dropped out, smacking into the ground and darting away for a hasty escape.
"Hello!" Edmund cried triumphantly, letting the bag flop on the ground as he chased after the tiny invader. Lunging forward, he landed heavily on the ground, the breath knocked completely out of his lungs from the impact. But that was alright, because…yes, there it was! Clutched carefully between his hands was a wiry little serpent, its scale color almost identical to the grass.
"Gotcha," he declared with a grin, though the expression faded soon enough as he realized what it was.
"You don't look much like a Talking Beast…" he reflected out loud, peering through the little opening in his cupped palms at the snake. It was just a little backyard grass snake, like he had seen at home before; the critter might scare the girls, but Peter and Ed had never been frightened of such a little, harmless thing.
"What do you think you're doing in my stuff, huh?" he asked, although it hadn't answered his first question and very likely was one of the dumb beasts of Narnia, those that couldn't speak. "Bet you're just looking for a safe place to sleep, aren't you?"
Nodding in place of the snake to answer the question, Edmund slowly opened his hands, letting the snake slip through to the ground. It curled around itself tightly, as if to hide from him, but didn't slither away like he thought it would.
"Go on, now…go, you silly snake!" Edmund murmured at it, even giving it a little prod with his finger for encouragement. At the poke, the serpent quickly unwound, rising up and twisting instead around the boy's finger.
"Hey! What did you think you're doi- come on, get off!" Ed wiggled his finger, trying to shake the tiny snake's grasp. When it held on, even for a full minute of him waving his finger wildly about, Edmund gave a short, defeated sigh, pulling himself into a sitting position with the animal still latched onto him.
"Fine. You want to join me, go ahead. But it's a long journey ahead, and you won't like it," he warned the animal, using his most serious Peter-imitation voice. When the creature responded only with a flick of its tiny forked tongue, the boy nodded solemnly. Sticking out the snake-attached hand, he managed to awkwardly shake it with his other, so sealing their partnership.
"Very well. I'm Edmund, and you'll be…Monster," he decided on the simplest, most ironic name he could come up with. Still, he couldn't help but smile at his new, silent traveling companion. Slinging his pack over his shoulder (after making sure all the spilled items had been shoved back into it), he patted his new friend once on the head for good luck, before setting off for another day of walking.
And as he set out, leg muscles already complaining by the third step, Edmund had the oddest feeling that any good luck he could get would be very much needed for the journey to come.
1 - I've been told by a semi-reliable source that what I call a flashlight would have been referred to as a 'torch' by the Pevensie kids…if this is incorrect, feel free to tell me. P
I know the dream took up a lot of the chapter, and the rest was semi-boring, but…sorry. I have better ideas for other chappies, but this one needed to be a little slow. sighs Guess this means I'm actually committing myself to the story, huh? Chapters should come faster after this now, though, so don't worry.
Once again, much much MUCH thanks, love, and eternal gratitude to you awesome reviewers- Capegio, Jumanji, TimeMage, EllaJ.W., Mist, AM, SteelElf, SugarHighNutcase, JustAnotherNarniaFan, DhonePrgrm, Boleyn, and JediRanger. You guys rock my socks like nothing else.
By the by, if anyone can figure out the meaning behind the chapter titles, I'll…umm…do something special for them? P I'll figure something out. Though I'm not sure even my uber-clever reviewers will be able to figure their significance out.
Thanks for reading and, as always, reviews are loved!