A/N: Don't hate me! I know it's been forever – again – but this time it isn't my fault. I've had this typed up for ages but my internet's been out for 3 weeks. I finally had to go to my local bagel place that has free internet in order to post this.

Thank you for all of your support of both this story and of me, while I'm going through my depression. I truly appreciate it.

If for some reason you believe that I resemble C.S. Lewis in any shape or form, please refer to the disclaimer in chapter 1.

Chapter 4

Earlier that night, in England

After Edmund had escaped from the table, a heavy silence filled the air, unnoticed by Harold and Alberta Scrubb, because they were, for once, not paying attention to their only son. Perhaps if they had, they might have noticed the significant look he shared with his cousin Lucy. That look was filled with apprehension and a mutual need for discussion.

"Father, may I be excused?" Eustace asked.

"Me as well, Uncle?" Lucy seconded.

The older man nodded without even looking up from his newspaper, and the pair quickly made their escape before Alberta could stop them. They brought their dishes to the kitchen before moving up the stairs and into Lucy's room in order to talk.

"What do you think that potion did, Lu?"

"I'm not sure. But knowing Aslan, it can only help Edmund. I'm not worried." Lucy said, ever confident in her faith in Aslan.

Eustace, being the more practical of the two, was still concerned.

"He drank the entire potion in one sitting, though. Perhaps it was an anti-depressant, and he was supposed to take it in small doses?"

"I say, Eustace, if that was the case, Aslan surely would have told us!"

"Was there a note of any kind in the package you received?"

"You know there was, you read it with me! It said 'For Edmund, to be put in his evening meal'."

Eustace nodded pensively, trying to think of any way they could've misinterpreted the message. Coming up with none, he looked up to see his cousin's eyes shining with an unasked question in their depths.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to doubt you or Aslan, I am just concerned by how quickly he drank his water and then disappeared. I mean, how did he know that we wanted him to drink it? And where did he go?"

Lucy smiled in understanding and said soothingly, "Eustace, we weren't exactly subtle. We were watching him the whole time, and I'm sure he noticed that we paid special attention to when he drank. He probably drank it all to appease us. As to where he is, lets go check, shall we? He's probably in your room, sleeping."

Eustace nodded, trying to get the tension to seep out of his stance, with no success. He followed Lucy out the door and down the hall to the room he shared with Edmund. Lucy pushed the door open gently, and peeked around the doorframe to peer inside.

She looked back at him with a warm smile on her face and pushed the door open wider. He leaned closer and saw that Edmund was on his bed, fast asleep. He also looked like he was sleeping peacefully, which was a change, for he usually tossed and turned all night long.

But as the pair watched, Edmund's form starting to shimmer slightly, becoming transparent. Lucy started forward, her brow creased in worry, but before she could reach him, he was gone.

Lucy staggered forward those last few steps, before falling forward upon the bed that had just held her dear brother.

"Ed!" she cried desperately, her throat choked with impending tears.

Eustace put his hand on her shoulder comfortingly. "This has to be Aslan's work. He will take care of Edmund, you know this."

She turned around and sat wearily on the bed, trying to hold back her tears.

"I know. But he's still my brother, Eustace. I-I miss him! You know, before all this happened, he was the one I was closest to, the one who would listen to what I had to say seriously, and not brush me off. He protected me, but didn't coddle me like Peter and Susan do. I don't know what I'm going to do without him."

"You know, Edmund hasn't really been here for quite a while. He was here in body, but not in spirit. I think that all Aslan has done is rejoin his body with his spirit."

"Do you mean… Eustace, do you think Aslan has returned him to Narnia?"

"I do." At this, he sat down next to the brunette and slung his arm around her shoulders. He hesitated, and then said softly, "You always have me, you know. I know I'm no Edmund, but – "

His words were cut off as Lucy suddenly embraced him in a fierce hug. "Thank you." Lucy said, her words muffled into Eustace's shirt, as he had recently had a growth spurt, making him a bit taller than her, much to her consternation.

Eustace then gave a huge sigh, causing Lucy to pull back to look at him in confusion.

"What on earth are we going to tell Mother and Father?"

xXx

Up, down. Up, down. Up, down.

It was only those movements that reassured Caspian that Edmund was all right. Every second that he was not watching the movement of Edmund's breathing, he was worried that the man on his bed had died. Flashes of Edmund lying splayed out on the ground in the courtyard passed through Caspian's mind, and though he tried to forget about it, it seemed like the image was tattooed on the back of his eyelids.

Up, down. Up, down. Up, down.

Where was that healer! Surely she knew that one of the Kings of Old was in need of her assistance?

He could go and fetch her, he supposed. But Caspian was loathe to leave Edmund right now. He feared that it was like watching water boil. It's fine while you watch, but if you turn away for even a second, the water boils over and your meal is ruined.

Thankfully, the sound of the door opening saved Caspian any more internal debate. He couldn't even turn to look towards the sound of the clicking heels on the stone floor. Edmund was more important.

"Sire." The healer said, her voice breathless, and the sound of her shoe scraping against the ground indicating a curtsey.

"He collapsed in the courtyard, after appearing here from his world. You do recognize him, of course?" he said, finally tearing his eyes away to scrutinize the healer's face.

"Yes, sire. 'Tis King Edmund, the just."

Caspian gave a sharp nod, and turned back towards the bed, continuing with his explanation. "The guards and I can not seem to wake him, even with smelling salts. This is no normal faint. But it does not seem to be a serious illness, for his pulse is slow but steady, as if he were merely in a deep sleep."

The healer was all business after that, tuning out the fact that the King was scrutinizing every move she made. She checked his pulse, listened to his breathing, and took all his vitals. She finally turned back to the King, her expression wary but determined.

"I believe that he is in a magically induced coma."

"Well?" Caspian asked impatiently. "What do we do now?"

"I have to call in someone more familiar with magic, I'm afraid. I was trained to recognize magic, not to break it."

Caspian's face, if possible, filled with more worry.

xXx

A little less than a half-hour later, a Narnian that Caspian was unfamiliar with was bending over Edmund. Apparently he was quite famous for breaking all kinds of magic, but Caspian was still dubious. Especially because said Narnian was getting far too close to Edmund for comfort.

The faun finally straightened up and turned to address the King. "This is Aslan's work, I am quite sure of it."

"How can you tell?"

"Most magic has a signature, and Aslan's is the most distinctive by far. It was rather easy to recognize." The faun paused, and then continued hesitantly, "Unfortunately, the thing about Aslan's magic is that it is impossible to break."

"What?" he asked sharply.

"Well, what most people do not know is that not only is Aslan the leader of this world, but he is in control of all magic here. When he casts a spell, it is unlike any other. His magic is unchangeable and unbreakable."

Caspian pinched his brow and tried to hold back his fear and worry. "What happens now?"

"Now comes the hard part, I fear, sire."

Caspian whipped his head up to look at the cursebreaker sharply.

"We wait."