Patience is Bitter, but Its Fruit is Sweet

"PETER!"

Lucy's shrill, shrieking voice cut through my sleep with all the keenness of Shafelm. I snapped awake with a vicious hiss and almost tumbled out of bed. I had no memory of having gone to bed and I most certainly did not want to be woken by a scream, be it of pleasure or otherwise. I was alone in the tent and it sounded as if Peter was being accosted outside. Why on earth was he up, let alone awake? Not all of us had the luxury of being able to sleep for the better part of a week, thank you, brother dear. Lucy had been dropping in her tracks last night. How was she awake?

With a long, loud groan I sat up, listening to the happy reunion going on without regard for the godless hour and formerly sleeping kings. Susan had joined the festivities by now. I dragged myself upright, wrapping a blanket around my shoulders as I staggered outside into the cold morning. Peter, smiling, healed, upright for the first time in days, was being supported by Oreius as he hugged our sisters. They were all talking at once and I growled something not even I could understand, getting their attention.

"The sun's not even up!" I complained loudly. "Why are you? Why am I?"

Why was I up? I didn't need to be. Did I?

Susan paused, her blue eyes wide. Lucy's jaw dropped. I had no idea what possessed them, but they smiled up at Peter and he was grinning like an idiot.

The next thing I knew my three siblings tackled me from all sides, hugging and kissing me and each other until I thought I might burst trying to escape their clutches.

"Ew! Ow! Stop that! Stop that! Let go! Ew! No, Susan, do not kiss me again! Stop! Ew! Peter! Help!"

They were all laughing and ignoring my orders to stop until I was suddenly yanked against Peter. He wrapped his arms around me and just held me, his head bent next to mine. Lucy threw her arms around us both, then Susan, and we stood together in a knot with me in the center. It reminded me of Beruna and all the evil that had been done and undone that day, and I was as grateful then as now to feel so many arms holding me tight.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Breakfast was the next order of business because Peter and I were both famished beyond telling. The girls hurried back to their tent to get dressed and Peter and I did the same. Susan had brought what seemed to be about half of Peter's wardrobe. As he hunted for something that fit I rummaged in the few pieces I had brought along (for she had packed nothing of mine in her excitement). I noticed his boots lying on the floor by my hammock.

I think they had been blue once. Now, four months and a thousand or more miles later, the poor, tattered boots were little better than scraps of leather held together by some foolishly optimistic stitching. The soles were almost worn through and they stank so badly of sweat and mud and age that I wondered how I had missed their noxious presence before. They had to be among the nastiest things in all creation. I knew that my brother was so used to them he'd wear them without a thought unless stopped. I glanced back at Peter as he pulled on what I intended to be the first of many layers, and while he was busy fighting his clothes I rolled up the offending footwear before he caught some exotic disease from them and stuffed them into a pocket of my pack.

"Ed, do you see my boots anywhere?" he asked a few minutes later, hunting about.

"No," I said in all honesty, since the pack was stowed under my bed now. "Just wear shoes, Peter. I'm starving. Let's go eat."

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

"King Edmund the Just," said Aslan as everyone in the camp looked on. "It is for you to take the final steps of this journey. Pluck the apple from the tree and rid yourself of Jadis' corruption."

Flanked by my siblings, I could think of nothing to say in reply so I bowed to the Lion before stepping over to the tree once again. It had grown considerably overnight and the fruit weighed its branch down. Reaching up, I twisted slightly to break it free and stepped back a little.

I looked at the apple in my hand. It was round and had a silvery sheen like the leaves. It smelt like . . . summer. It seemed too pretty to eat, too small to combat Jadis' might, but this little fruit could do what Aslan could not. I cast one final look at my brother and sisters. They seemed so full of anxiety and anticipation that I smiled, trying to reassure them, and bit into the apple.

I had never tasted anything like this. It tasted like an apple, but . . . more. Much more. The flavor was deeper and more complex than any apple. It was like fine wine, changing from moment to moment. When I swallowed I gasped because suddenly I was seeing the world with new eyes. I saw Narnia, my family, Aslan, but I saw them as far more than what they had been before I took that first bite. Narnia was all that was best in creation. My family . . . they were the very meaning of love. Peter so brave and selfless and noble. He was the embodiment of heroism. Susan so lovely, graceful and caring. Lucy so daring and merry, innocence and courage. And Aslan...he shone brighter than the sun, dazzling and clear, infinite in his love and power.

What did this make me?

Peter started forward at my gasp, but I raised my hand and he halted. I took another bite and it was as wonderful as the first. I could feel it working upon me, my body and soul, cleansing and purifying me of the darkness that called itself Jadis. It spread through me like warmth, starting at my center and radiating outwards, its power making me worthy of the Narnia around me.

The colors were richer, the wisdom was deeper, and it seemed as if all of creation was celebrating the simple, glorious act of being.

And by eating the apple, I was finally part of it. Jadis, alien, corrupt, evil Jadis, had no place here. There was no fight, no last outraged attempt to claim me. The poison that was her blood was banished and wiped away as easily as sunrise banishes the night.

I ate slowly, not caring what anyone made of my reaction. My brother had sacrificed all for this and I would make it last. Each bite filled me more and more, drawing me closer to life. I had never known . . . had never imagined I could feel this way. I loved and was loved. I lived, and I was part of this, part of Narnia, part of Aslan in all his brilliance, boundless and grand. If I hadn't felt it for myself, I never would have believed it was possible. A veil had been lifted from my eyes and for the first time since arriving in Narnia, for the first time in my life, I truly saw.

I closed my eyes, clutching the apple core in my hand. The rush wasn't fading as much as it was balancing me, finding a middle ground for me to walk, and restoring this boy Edmund Pevensie to what he had somehow lost along his way.

I knew exactly what I would see when I opened my eyes.

I would see what had been there all along.

And oh, the wonder of it all!

I looked at Peter. He understood. I could see it in his eyes. He knew what I had just experienced.

Then Peter will show you upon his return.

Oh, Peter.

I saw Narnia as he saw it, as it really was, rich and vibrant and deep, full of love and hope and joy. It was a land blessed with Aslan's grace and finally I felt truly a part of it. The days past seemed so bleak next to what the future promised to hold for me.

It was thanks to Peter I stood here now. Finally, through all these trials and this suffering, I was capable of doing what he had asked.

And so I let go and forgave myself, letting him know by my smile that his quest was over and my promise was kept. I would not forget my past, but I would not let it stop or slow me.

Standing near Aslan, the elderly birch Dryad made an eager gesture and I realized what she wanted. I glanced at Aslan and he nodded, and so I handed the apple core to the Dryad. She carefully split it in two, exposing a pair of brown seeds within, and I knew those seeds would be cared for as tenderly as the Tree of Protection. The other Dryads crowed around her to see, all of them very excited and cooing with delight.

Then my sisters were hugging me and I was glad of it. They had never seemed so pretty. I looked past them to Peter and saw he was on the verge of tears. Typical Peter. that was fine. I felt exactly the same way. I let go of my sisters and stepped towards him.

"Oh, go ahead and cry, Peter," I said. "Get it out of your system!"

But instead he laughed, and I laughed with him.