Chapter Text
Edmund knew the night raid wouldn’t work the moment Lucy reminded them of Aslan. He knew that war led people to do things they never wanted to do, none of it seeming exactly right but needing to be done- but Edmund didn’t think Aslan would approve of a night raid. It didn’t seem a brave thing to do, nor did the plan seem secure enough to follow it through properly. It hinged on too many risks and was without Aslan’s direct approval. In fact, it seemed practically doomed to fail.
But Edmund knew he must cast all of this aside. His brother was High King and knew it. There was no way to change his mind once it was made. Besides, they had no reason not to go for his plan. Many of his attacks had been far less planned out and had been successful- but then again, those had been in the name of Aslan and not built on contention and pride.
Edmund shook his head to clear it of those thoughts. He couldn’t afford to be distracted or uncertain during the mission. All he could do was do as he was ordered and hope for the best.
Despite himself, he still felt his gut twisting uneasily. He had a really bad feeling about this.
“Ed!” A voice demanded angrily, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Are you even listening to me?
Edmund fought the blush crawling up into his cheeks. “Sorry.”
Peter only shook his head. “You need to pay attention, or this is never going to work out.”
Edmund bit back a scalding retort and nodded. Losing his temper right now wouldn’t help anyone. Still, he couldn’t help a little bit of contempt show in his voice when he said, “Yes, your Majesty.”
Peter’s mouth twitched up a little, showing Edmund that he’d gotten the hidden message. That made him feel a bit better. Maybe the old Peter wasn’t completely gone, after all. “As I was saying before, Ed, you’ll be carried by Gryp to the tower on the far left.” He pointed to the rough map Caspian had drawn in the dirt. “There, you’ll use your torch to signal the troops.”
Edmund hummed his understanding and rolled the electric torch in his hands. “And I just switch it on and off, correct?”
Peter nodded. “You’ll stay there- out of harm’s way- until I say it’s safe to move.”
Edmund’s mouth dropped open. “What?”
“Peter’s right, Edmund,” Susan said gently. “You have to stay out of the way. We don’t want you getting hurt.”
Edmund stood up, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “What are you talking about?” he demanded. “This is war; everyone’s going to get hurt. Besides, I’m a seasoned warrior. I’ve been in countless wars, side by side with you two. It’s not fair that you guys treat me like a kid that needs to be taken care of.”
He looked desperately at Prince Caspian, but the boy only shrugged, looking as if he agreed with them. Edmund would get no help from him.
“You are a kid, Ed,” Peter said, going a little red in the face. He wasn’t used to Edmund fighting back to his orders, and didn’t like being defied- especially in front of everyone else.
“As are you!” Edmund pointed out angrily. “Being a kid has never mattered in Narnia, and it definitely shouldn’t now!”
Susan stepped forward, crossing her arms. “While you are right on that count, Edmund, the point is, we can’t have you getting hurt.”
“We are all risking injuries in an attack like this. That’s just how this works!”
“But think about it, Ed,” Susan said calmly. She was always calm in these situations- infuriatingly calm. “Who gets hurt the most during these sort of things?”
Edmund shut up at this, knowing what she said had a fair point.
“You have no sense of self-preservation, you know,” Peter put in. “You’re always throwing yourself into bad situations when any of us are threatened, no matter what might happen to you.”
Edmund opened his mouth to argue, but knew there was no way to change their minds. Plus, there was a bit of truth to what they were saying- but he did it because they were much more needed than he was.
“And in this case,” Peter continued, not giving Edmund a chance to speak, “we won’t have Lucy’s cordial to heal you before it’s too late. So you’re staying put until I say so. Understand?”
Edmund didn’t know what to say. He felt it unfair that he was the only one who wasn’t able to get hurt (his life didn’t matter any more than the others’ lives), but understood why Peter was doing it. If their roles were reversed, Edmund would probably do the same. “I understand.”
But that doesn’t mean I’m going to obey it, Edmund thought as he sat down. He crossed his arms, making a vow that if any of their lives were threatened, he would disobey that stupid decree. He didn’t care if he was going to be punished for it later, or if he died in the process of protecting them- he was going to do what he deemed necessary, as he had always done. If anything bad happened to him… it was probably for the best. As long as the rest of his siblings were okay, then whatever happened to him would be fine.
He was going to protect his family no matter what.
-NARNIA-
That very vow was going through his head even as the thoughts of battle raged inside him. He had to stay alert at all times, being sure to keep an eye on his siblings constantly.
He also had the job of sending the signal to bring the troops in and no matter how lowly it was compared to Peter and Susan’s jobs, it was still an important part in the plan and therefore he had to do it well or everything would fall apart.
He stood in his stiff position at the top of the tower, tensely waiting for the moment to signal reinforcements and for the battle to begin. His flashlight beamed upon the courtyards and forest surrounding them, ready to reveal any guards that might ruin their carefully thought-out plan. There were a lot of factors at play here, and if any one of them were messed up, the rest of the plan would fall apart and many, many lives would be lost.
Something moved in his peripheral vision, and he swerved around to see it. All he caught was a tree branch shaking and a few leaves fluttering to the ground.
A snap of a branch and a rustle of a bush sounded to his right.
He pointed his flashlight at the source of the noise and felt a shudder run through him. Yellow eyes flashed back at him, illuminated by the flashlight. He knew those yellow eyes anywhere. They… they couldn’t be…
A scream broke through his thoughts and made him jump, which in turn made him fumble with the flashlight. It clattered to the cobblestone in front of the soldier stationed there.
Great.
-NARNIA-
Edmund watched the slaughtering on the battlefield, trying to figure out his best play. He could stay and wait for the right time to call Gryp, or he could ignore his brother and take his place by his sibling’s side.
Then his brother’s life was in danger, which made his decision a lot easier. Without hesitation, he plunged off the roof, slid down it and bowled the archer aiming at Peter’s head off the roof.
Peter looked at him a bit exasperatedly before his eyes widened. “Ed, look out!”
Edmund was now practically surrounded by the armed guards. He mentally smacked himself for getting into such a vulnerable position before bolting to the nearest door.
Arrows chased after him, thudding into the door and the floor as he dove to the ground and slammed the door shut. He stood up, about to congratulate himself, but his calf gave a burst of pain and he sat down, hard.
He’d been hit.
How deep? Edmund didn’t know. All he knew was that it hurt. A lot.
Fortunately, not enough that it meant it was a fatal hit. Just painful.
He gritted his teeth together and snapped the arrow in half, which plunged the tip a bit further in. Then, wasting no time to concentrate on healing it, he stood (a little unsteadily) and limped through the hall to another door, one he knew to be the outside watchtower from his research last night.
He stumbled through it, shoving his torch through where the bolt should be, and leaned heavily against the edge of the tower, breathing heavily. Now that he was what he considered fairly safe, he felt it the right time to check on his injuries and administer to them the best he could. Despite having a healer for a sister, Edmund often found himself catering to his own injuries. He believed that all the healing should go to the other before himself, as a reminder that he served his subjects before himself.
He was quite proud of the skill, too.
And, of course, it came in very handy in sticky situations, much like this one.
He stretched out his leg to get a good look at it and winced. It wasn’t a horrible wound, but definitely needed some attention.
He pulled out a white handkerchief from his shirt sleeve, placing it under the calf across from where the arrow stuck out. He wished he had a pure source of water nearby to make sure the handkerchief was completely clean, but you must make do with what you have. He grit his teeth, took a deep breath, and steadily pulled the arrow out of his calf.
His body shuddered when the open wound met the rigid air. Then it tensed as his ears picked up the heavy footsteps of the soldiers. He hastily tied the handkerchief tightly and securely around the gash, then straightened. His leg protested at being stood on, so he minimized the pressure by carrying his weight with his other.
“The kid’s over here!” a voice called from the other side of the door. The soldiers pounded against it, and Edmund knew his wonderful torch bolt wouldn’t last forever. He pulled it out and backed away, unsheathing his sword and holding both of the weapons in front of him protectively.
The door burst open and Edmund counted five soldiers. 1 to 5- not very good odds.
He peered over the edge for Gryp, but it seemed the griffin was a bit busy trying to escape from soldiers of its own, dodging arrows and wrestling against a rope tied around its ankle.
“I suppose there’s no point in asking if you could forget that I‘m here and leave?” Edmund asked.
The soldier closest to him just attacked.
Edmund quickly disarmed him, then knocked him on the head with the butt of his sword. The man crumpled.
The others were more careful now, eyeing him warily.
One feigned an attack, but Edmund was ready for it and twisted the soldier’s weapon out of his grasp and flung it off the tower. The soldiers exchanged looks, then all attacked at once. Edmund ducked and dodged and sliced, but in the end, there were too many to defeat.
Edmund struggled weakly against the remainder of the soldiers as they escorted him to what he supposed was the dungeons. The adrenaline was slowly weakening, bringing his full attention to the pain in his leg. They’d also got in a couple small cuts on his face and arms as they’d fought. He tried his best to keep pressure off his hurt leg, limping as fast as he could to match with the soldiers’ pace.
Edmund heard the sounds of war slowly start to diminish, fading out with screams of pain and thuds.
“EDMUND!”
It was Peter. He’d noticed he was gone.
“ED, WHERE ARE YOU?”
Edmund fought the soldiers, desperately trying to break free from their grasp and return to his family.
“No, I can’t leave him!” This came a lot quieter, and Edmund could tell that Peter was getting further and further away. “We’ll come back for you, Ed! I promise! We’ll come back! Don’t lose hope!”
And then nothing.
Edmund was shoved harshly into a small dungeon cell and shackled to the wall. He grimaced and let his body lean back against the stone as he caught his breath. Everything hurt.
“I thought I told you we were not taking any prisoners!” An angry voice that could only be Miraz’s yelled. A slap was heard. “You defied a direct command!”
“S-sir, we only thought-” one of the soldiers timidly defended.
“Thought what?” Miraz’s voice was getting closer. “What could have possibly made you disobey a direct order from your king? You really are fools to think-”
He stopped abruptly in front of the cell. The two royals locked eyes. Edmund stared at him impassively, but he could see the glimmer of fierce hunger and pride that appeared in Miraz’s dark eyes.
The newly-made king turned to his soldiers. “I see. You are not fools, after all.”
Edmund heard a soft breath of relief.
Miraz waved one hand dismissively. “Now report to your commanders. I must speak with the boy. Alone.”
Edmund’s stomach twisted anxiously as the clacking sound of armor grew fainter and fainter until it was gone entirely. He stored his nervousness away immediately as Miraz turned around, a great big smile on his face. It didn’t reach his eyes. “Where should we start?”