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When Lucy cried, winter seemed to settle over Narnia again like a restless shadow. It happened quite often when they were still children, and there were nights when nightmares and longing for her old world stalked her with sharp talons. It was usually Peter and Susan who comforted her, not Edmund, never Edmund, who watched everything from a distance, close enough to see the tears streaming down her face, and to feel the sudden chill in the air, but who wasn´t a warm chest she could snuggle into. Edmund's heartbeat would not have been reassuring in any way.
Yet it was probably Edmund who was most terrified of these moments, for the memories of eternal winter were freshest in his mind, and the bite of the ice and the chill of the snowy wind made him fall into restless dreams on those nights, and he would occasionally return to Lucy's rooms at early morning to check that she had calmed down.
As the years passed, these episodes became less frequent. But Lucy was, in a word, wild, which meant that her emotions would never hide behind any mask, no matter if she was overjoyed or that terrible winter. Edmund allowed himself to let his guard down, except for those moments when something would happen, an argument with Mr. Tumnus, or Peter, or even Susan, and Edmund would stay awake again, always in the shade, hidden from the glow of the fire, where he could see her until she fell asleep, and only then, only then, would the warmth return to Cair Paravel.
At least when Lucy cried, Edmund knew that she was sad and that once all the emotion had been drained away, something simple like a walk in the nearby woods or the golden sunlight streaming through the drawing room, so like Aslan's soft hair, would be enough to soothe her. Yet there was something worse than Lucy's crying, something that could squeeze Edmund's heart even harder, like a prison that threatened to remain closed forever. Because she was all energy and she was not made for stillness, or for silence.
So seeing Lucy as still as a cold night star terrified him.
This time it was the first days of spring, but seeing his sister silent and thoughtful, sitting in the wide and beautiful gardens, Edmund felt the winter chill go back up his back like a sharp, menacing spear.
Lucy was alone. No nymphs, maidens, or merry creatures surrounding her. Edmund did not come closer, but stood a safe distance away, waiting. She was a queen in all her splendor, he thought as he watched her. And it had nothing to do with the haughtiness or elegance that characterized Susan, but with the way she seemed to be part of the world around her, soft as the breeze through the tall trees, restless as the current of the seas, a hopeful, mesmerizing fire rising from the ice.
She was nervous. Edmund could tell by the way she was nibbling on her own bottom lip. And despite being away from her, he could almost see it in her gaze. He debated. He should go to her, ask if there was a way to remove the veil of anguish from her face, because that made a good brother. And Edmund wanted, more than anything, to be a good brother to Lucy.
He had barely decided to take a step towards her when he saw another figure appear in the garden. It was Susan, regal and determined. Edmund paused, telling himself that she was in good hands now, that there was no reason he had to stay. And yet, it was as if an invisible wall was preventing him from leaving.
Susan quickened her pace on the last stretch toward Lucy. And when the smallest of the women saw her older sister, she did not hesitate to throw herself into her arms.
"Oh, Lu," he heard Susan say. “Your maid has told me. Do not be afraid, it is something natural and you are not alone”.
Lucy exhaled and the worry seemed to leave her body in a second.
“I thought I was hurt,” she said. “I was scared to death. Did it also happen to you?"
Susan nodded gravely.
“Listen, it won't be the only time. You have to learn about it, fine? I should have told you before, but I felt so ashamed…”
Intuition told Edmund that this conversation was something he shouldn't be listening to. And he told himself that all he wanted was to ensure the well-being of his sister.
“Is that something to be ashamed of, Su?” Lucy asked. She might be a young woman, for years had passed since they first arrived in Narnia, but she still, at times, maintained that innocence and purity that everyone in Cair Paravel was willing to protect with their lives, like one who falls in love with moonlight and try, hopelessly, to treasure it forever.
Susan denied.
"No, Lucy. Things were different in England, remember? But here you don't have to be ashamed of it. Come, dear. I'll give you everything you'll need from now on, and tonight we'll celebrate".
"Celebrate?"
Susan smiled. Something in Edmund's chest stirred with realization.
"Now you can give life, Lu, if that's what you ever want".
But he knew that whether she was a woman or a girl, Lucy brought Narnia to life every day, as at that very moment, when winter thawed and spring blossomed again, and the flowers in Cair Paravel opened restlessly, like the heart in Edmund's chest, and that was a feeling he did not want to name and knew had always been there, and that even a return to England many years later could not erase from his memory.