Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia or any of its wonderful characters / lands. It all belongs to C. S. Lewis.
Author's Note: Set directly after the scene in the Prince Caspian movie, where Edmund stabbs the White Witch memory-vision-whatever thing. Please read, review, and enjoy. Love ya'll, Ninja!
***Since publication this has been revamped. Trust me, it's much better now. I literally had no idea what I was doing when I first wrote this so this is probably much much better. :)
Peter stood in shock for a moment before running after Edmund. He found his brother, walking away and seething.
"Ed, I – I'm so sorry. I was under her spell." Peter said, hoping to calm his brother down.
"Yeah, not the best, is it?" Edmund shot back over his shoulder.
Peter froze in his tracks. "Is that what it felt like, when she . . .?" he trailed off.
Edmund stopped and turned, facing the wall. Peter could see his brother was near exploding.
"How? How, Peter? How could you even consider it?" Edmund said suddenly. He turned and stared daggers at Peter. "Don't you remember what she did? To Aslan and our people. To our country? What about what she did to me?" Edmund's raised voice had drawn the attention of Lucy, Susan, and Caspian who approached quietly. "How could you even consider it, Peter?" Edmund repeated.
They looked at each other for a moment, until Peter asked the question burning at the forefront of his mind. "Edmund, what did she do to you?"
Never, in fifteen years of ruling Narnia and then another two years back in England, had Edmund revealed the full extent of what his captivity by the Witch had encompassed. The three siblings had comforted Edmund while he was younger and still suffered from recurring nightmares about the situation, but never had Edmund disclosed the contexts of his dreams.
"You don't want to know," Edmund replied.
"Please, Edmund, I have to know," Peter pleaded. "You've kept this inside far too long. Please, tell me?"
Lucy, Susan, and Caspian came closer, curious. Peter, still angry with Caspian for being the cause of this problem, was about to make a snide remark towards the young prince, but Edmund stepped in.
"No, he can stay! He is to be the future ruler. It is necessary he know the truth of what happened."
Edmund turned and began to pace, as he so often had when contemplating during his reign. At last, he spoke. His voice was silent at first, but grew louder and more emotional with every word.
"She tortured me," he began. "She kept me in chains so tight that they left scars. She gave me no food or water, and everyday she would enter the cell and whip me or hit me." Edmund hesitantly pulled down his tunic just enough so his siblings and the prince could see the dozens of small, crisscrossing scars etched upon his chest.
Peter gasped, wondering how Edmund had been able to keep them secret from him for so many years.
"After the first couple of days, I can't remember what happened but I think we can safely assume it was more of the same. My first clear memory after my rescue is my talk with Aslan." As Edmund concluded, his brother took a few hesitant steps forward before hugging his little brother. Edmund didn't return the hug, however. He pulled away and left through a side corridor, emotions so mixed and confusing that he needed to be alone to sort through them all.
Peter watched as Edmund left, feeling hurt but immensely guilty. He was the reason Edmund was feeling this way again. If he had just struck down the Witch, instead of letting her words get to him, maybe they wouldn't be so distant now. But they were.