Chapter Five: Return

Three more days passed. Our schedules shifted slightly as we stayed up until midnight and beyond to be with Edmund as each night the curse made itself known and he was stabbed through the gut once again. It was awful to witness, painful to see. He never cried out, just let out that terrible gasp, and he never shed a tear.

I did.

I cried for his pain, for his fear, and for my own helplessness and frustration as every night I watched Edmund try to be brave while all the while I knew he was terrified. Every night we'd sit around him, holding him, vainly trying to calm and comfort him. I wanted to lash out at something, but Jadis was long dead and there was no real outlet for my fury at the situation. Daily, almost hourly I prayed to Aslan to come help us. Where was he when we needed him so?

Luckily with all the ongoing festivities there weren't any really pressing matters of state for us to deal with, though Edmund made it a point to assure the Calormene ambassador that this enchantment was no threat to Narnia's strength in peace and war. He didn't trust the Calormenes and neither did I, but he was our guest and we made him welcome even if the palace servants watched him so closely the poor man couldn't take ten steps without bumping into another maid or valet or stablehand. A week after he arrived he returned home in a large, ungainly galleon that had me thinking we needed a navy to protect us from people exactly like him.

This new idea sufficed to keep us and our courtiers distracted as we discussed the possibility of amassing ships of our own. The five representatives from Galma, humans all, were sent for and we spent several very pleasant afternoons with them discussing details of a navy in open dialogue. They were remarkable seamen and shipwrights. When they departed four days after the anniversary they had promised to send us charts, maps, navigational aids, and a learned tutor to teach us how to use them, as well as designs for various kinds of ships. Further, they begged us to visit their island as soon as we were able, promising to send their finest ship to transport us to their capitol. Galma fell under our jurisdiction and government as a dukedom, and for their own protection they wanted a strong Narnian presence to be felt by anyone who visited their small island.

We sent Princess Eo home with an escort of soldiers and loaded down with gifts for the newborn babies. Lune had sent word by courier that he now had twin nieces and a nephew and Eo couldn't wait to get home and get back to work on nagging him to give her grandchildren of her own. I missed her presence and her regular hugs, not to mention the grief she gave Edmund to eat more. It had been fun to watch and I knew he enjoyed it despite the faces he made. I did feel a little sorry for Lune, though, now that his two weeks of peace and quiet were over.

And every night at midnight, it was the same and my brother was stabbed by some unseen force.

I began to despise the night, though this week taught us all a heavy lesson about being kings and queens: our personal problems could have no impact on our duties. It was a hard lesson, especially for Lucy, but Edmund refused to alter our classes or work loads and the only change to our schedules was that we all slept later now. We bore up, plastered pleasant expressions on our faces, and went about our business of running the country.

On the sixth night since the anniversary, the seventh night of this ordeal, I sat with Edmund and our sisters in my room. Edmund didn't even bother wearing a tunic at this point. He just sat on the edge of his bed looking tiny and frail and frightened in a way he would only allow us to see. I closed my eyes, sickened by this whole grotesque scene of waiting for my brother to be magically run through as if with a shard of crystal.

I sat next to Edmund, one hand on his shoulder as we waited for midnight. Martil and Silvo were in the hall, their small hooves echoing faintly. This was the worst part: waiting. Susan slowly paced. Lucy sat poised with the bottle of cordial in her hand. I knew that until this curse was lifted we would get little accomplished. Even planning for a navy had been a mere distraction, something that turned our thoughts away from our real issue for a few moments.

A simple prayer ran through my mind like a mantra, the same prayer I had been saying almost constantly for a week: Aslan, help us. Help me to help my brother. As you love us, as you love Narnia, please come and help us.

Suddenly the echo of hooves grew louder as the two Faun valets threw open the doors to the room, nervous and smiling as they bowed apologetically to us, then backed away.

And then we saw why.

My prayers had been answered.

Aslan had returned.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Lucy squealed and threw herself at the Lion. He laughed and smiled as he greeted her. Susan hugged him from the other side and he purred as she tried to reach her arms around his great neck. I wanted to rush forward as well, but I waited for Edmund to stand instead.

He was exhausted. His dark eyes were shadowed by lack of sleep, he seemed pale beneath his tan and thinner than ever before. He had not looked this terrible since he had been rescued from Jadis's camp right before the Battle of Beruna. Still, he was every inch a king of Narnia as he composed himself for Aslan. He stood and side by side we bowed to the mighty Lion. I couldn't keep the smile off my face as I straightened, I was so very happy for his presence. He seemed larger to me, but perhaps that was because the room seemed small by comparison to him, so competely did he fill it.

Aslan took a few steps into the room. He looked first at me, then at Edmund, and the light in his golden eyes told me he was happy and proud of all we had accomplished this past year.

"Peter," he said, and my name was exalted. Though his voice was quiet, it rang out in the like a bell's sweet chime. "Edmund, my son."

I could bear it no longer and neither could my brother. We threw ourselves at him with shouts of greeting and I buried my face in his thick, soft mane.

"You came," I whispered. "Oh, Aslan, you came! Thank you."

He smiled as I drew back, though now his eyes and his smile were sad. Edmund had yet to release his hold on the Lion and Aslan gently held him with one huge paw, purring as he rubbed his velvety face against Edmund's head and shoulder. Neither showed any inclination to let go of the other and it was only then that I realized my brother was crying.

Susan drew close to me, putting her hand on my shoulder in a gesture reminiscent to Aslan's. She rested her head on her hand as Lucy, upset by this sudden display from her stoic brother, came close to be held. I pulled my sisters in close and held them, giving and taking comfort as we waited for the inevitable blow to strike Edmund down at midnight. Aslan made no move to stop what was going to happen, and with a sinking heart I realized the truth.

He couldn't.