Adventures in Narnia 2023

Prompt #5 - Taste is often neglected in stories. Write a story about taste.

Okay, this is a challenge since my sense of taste isn't the greatest! And I'm not sure I got the ending right - it meandered into matters of conscience (think 1 Corinthians 8 & 10) and I'm not sure how well I presented that...here goes!

Edmund wasn't sure when the last time he had had dessert was. Back in England, sugar had been rationed ever since the war started, several months before the air raids began.* That had certainly added to the allure of the White Witch's Turkish Delight - though Edmund knew better than to use that as an excuse for his behaviour.

The Turkish Delight was now cloyingly sweet in his memory, enough so to make the thought of any sweet food Edmund feel sick. How could it not - he had betrayed his own family for sweeties and the illusory promise of becoming a despot. Edmund's desire for dessert had cost Aslan his life. He was quite sure he could go the rest of his life without eating dessert again.

Since his rescue, there hadn't been much time for desert - with moving the camp and then the battle, everyone was simply happy to have food to eat.

But now it was the coronation banquet. The dishes were so varied Edmund wanted to try them all and so numerous that to do so he could only take the smallest portions of each dish. He thought he could see his newly crowned siblings doing the same thing.

Being so long at the table, there were breaks between courses where everyone could get up and stretch their legs.

"How many more courses?" groaned Peter.

"We just had salad - I think one of the cooks said dessert is next," said Lucy.

"Excuse me, I think the salad is disagreeing with me," muttered Edmund and ducked into a nearby hallway.

With everyone at the feast, it was easy to find places of solitude. Edmund wandered until the sounds of the feast were only a dim echo.

The salad, of course, was only guilty of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. It was anticipation of dessert, of sweetness, that was threatening to put to waste everything Edmund had eaten so far at the banquet.

"Son of Adam, your presence at the feast is missed."

Edmund turned to see Aslan in the hallway. As the Great Lion walked noiselessly toward him, Edmund hung his head in shame.

How was he supposed to explain? He was hiding from food, and the companionship that went with eating. Food - what a thing to run from.

But it had been food that had led him into such wrong…

"Walk with me, son."

Slowly the new king and the Lion walked through the maze of passages until they came to a courtyard. The sun was hovering over the edge of the Eastern Sea. Edmund blinked at the light reflecting off the ocean.

"What is it that troubles you?"

How was he supposed to explain his fear, even to Aslan?

"It's…it's the dessert, Aslan. It's what she used…I don't want…it's…"

Edmund felt himself on the verge of tears. He turned away from the brightness - both of the setting sun over the ocean and of the golden Lion.

The tears fell in spite of his efforts. Then, his face was brushing against something rough and hairy. Edmund opened his eyes and saw it was Aslan's mane.**

"There is no shame, my son, in avoiding the temptation to evil."

Edmund buried his face in the lion's mane, allowing the tears to fall freely now.

"But there is no temptation here. This food is not cursed or enchanted - it is made with the love and loyalty of your subjects, just as all the other food tonight was."

Edmund felt the roughness of the Lion's mane move away from him. He shivered. Where was Aslan going?

But then Edmund felt another warmth - but this was more like a strong wind. He opened his eyes and saw Aslan's open mouth. The Lion had not gone anywhere.

"Take heart, my son."

Edmund understood. It was right for him to abhor what he had done. It was natural for sweets to be a reminder of all the wrong he had done.

But he was a king now. His guilt had been absolved by Aslan's own death and coming back to life. It was no longer his to bear.

Certainly he could not impose it on others by turning up his nose at the food that they had prepared for him.

"Help me, Aslan," Edmund whispered.

Again he felt the warmth of the Lion's breath.

"I always will."

Again the Lion said, "Walk with me." Obediently, Edmund followed.

Aslan led him back into Cair Paravel, and towards the Great Hall where the feast was still going on. Edmund's apprehension grew. His absence had been noticed. What would the others say?

But he need not have feared. At the sight of Aslan, no notice was taken of Edmund as he slipped back to his place at the high table where yet more desserts were being passed.

"Oh Edmund, you've never tasted such strawberries! Try some!"

Lucy dropped several plump red strawberries onto Edmund's plate and over them heaped a healthy serving of cream.

Edmund stared at the berries in front of him. He could not remember seeing their equal in England.

He looked up and saw Narnians of all sorts thronging about the Great Lion. The one who had sacrificed himself for Edmund, and now had bidden Edmund to not be afraid.

Fruit was not made by Narnians, but by Aslan himself. To refuse the fruit was to refuse the gift of Aslan…

Edmund closed his eyes and took a bite.

No, this was nothing like the enchanted Turkish Delight. No witch, no evil had had hand in this sweetness.

Again Edmund looked up, but he could no longer see Aslan in the crowd forming about him.

He's not a tame Lion, Mr Beaver had said.

Aslan had given his lesson to the young king, and now was visiting with his other subjects.

Edmund had had his lesson, and would see the Lion again in due time.

*For anyone who is curious, sugar rationing in the United Kingdom began on 8 January 1940. The London Blitz began 7 September 1940 and lasted until 11 May 1941. Sugar rationing did not end until 24 April 1949.

**Random factoid: I needed a refresher on the texture of a lion's mane and in the process of doing so learned that there is also a plant called lion's mane…who knew?