Living through the biggest war that had ever been meant fear was a constant. It was for your own life, for your home, and your livelihood. Somehow, this was completely different.
There was nothing that the Pevensie siblings could do there. It was preemptive and controlled by people far more powerful than them. But here, they could get to Edmund and they could save him. And it was what they wanted to do more than anything else.
The three siblings chased after their youngest brother, confused and isolated from their home. His tracks had already been covered by falling snow, the white flakes disconnecting the siblings from one another- and Edmund didn't even have a coat.
When they reached the peak of the hill, the ice castle was in view. It was beautiful, more so if they hadn't know what resided there.
"Edmund!" Lucy screamed at the top of her lungs, begging for her brothers attention. But it barely echoed further than fifty feet before dissipating into the frosty air.
Beaver hushed, frustrated. "Shh, they're hear you!" It didn't stop Peter trying to make a break for it, and Beaver grabbed him. "No!"
"Get off me!" The blonde boy commands, perhaps thinking he was already a King like the prophecy had suggested.
"You're playing into her hands."
Susan cried out. "We can't just let him go!"
And Lucy whispered, softly. "He's our brother."
"He's the bait." Beaver hissed, causing them all to think more carefully. It was supposed to deter them, if only for a short while. "The Witch wants all of you!"
"Why?" Peter challenged ferociously.
"To stop the prophecy from coming true. To kill you!"
Just as the Beaver spoke, the door to the palace swung shut as they saw the small, dark figure of their brother disappear. Their flesh and blood was walking straight into the trap of one of the most powerful beings to ever walk through Narnia.
Susan mumbled under her breath,, her words clearly directive. "This is all your fault."
"My fault?" The eldest child was taken aback, as his sister accused him.
She seethed. "None of this would have happened if you had just listened to me in the first place."
"Oh," Peter nodded, knowingly. "So you knew this would happen."
"I didn't know what would happen." Susan promised, angrily. "Which is why we should've left while we still could!"
That was when Lucy seemed to lose it too. "Stop it! This isn't going to help Edmund."
"She's right." Beaver sighed, defeated. "Only Aslan can help your brother now."
Peter nodded, solemnly, turning to his sisters. "Then take us to him."
Aramis had spent most of his time in the Narnian Camp worrying. So many things were happening, all of which he could see, and he was able to help no one. His powers were under a strict rule, which was probably for the best.
The last star was too powerful for his own good. Maybe it had caused catastrophic damage in the past, but since then he had trained and harnessed what magic he did hold. One day, he hoped to be as reputable as Aslan.
As they took a stroll around the Camp, Aramis felt guilt rise in his blood once again. It had become common in recent weeks, and made him uneasy.
"They are fighting amongst themselves, Aslan." Aramis warned, hoping that it would allow him to help. "It can only get worse."
The noble lion did not flinch, almost knowing the answer before they came to him. "But they are coming here, are they not?"
"Only three of them."
"That will change in time, I promise you, my friend."
Though it did not ease his nerves, Aramis felt some sort of relief. Three of them were going to be safe. He only wished the same could be said for Edmund.
The ice castle was something so spectacular it didn't seem real. A structure to counter both Buckingham Palace and Versailles with honour.
And the young Pevensie boy was making his way through like it was the corridors of his Grammar School. Everything was translucent, reflecting each movement in the way a diamond might. Though everything was regal, Edmund was not.
He did not match the surroundings in any way as his hair was like a ravens feathers, and clothes so heavy with wool that even the slightest top of rain would weigh him down. In fact, he put a dampener on the beauty, but it wouldn't stop him.
Edmund wanted to see the glamour so close to him he could touch it.
There was a valley of statues, so complex and carved in ways the young boy didn't think it possible. How could something manmade be so intricate? He could not have known that they were anything but statues- and perhaps it was best that he was left shrouded by darkness.
After scaling the large staircase at the front of the foyer, Edmund stepped over a sleeping grey wolf. He tried his best not to startle the creature, but found it was in vain as it pounced into his chest. The Pevensie boy was trapped, breath constricted from impact and the paw resting on his body.
"Be still, stranger, or you'll never move again." The wolf growled at him. At first, Edmund was confused, forgetting that creatures could speak here. "Who are you?"
"I'm Edmund!" The raven haired boy cried out, afraid. "I met the Queen in the woods! She told me to come back here! I'm a son of Adam!"
The wolf slinked from the boy, bowing his head. "My apologies, fortunate favourite of the Queen. Or else, not so fortunate."
When the animal creeped away, Edmund was left sitting in the snow. Still, he was cold. Perhaps leaving the coat had been a stupid motion.
"Right this way." It called, so Edmund followed.
There was a second fight of stairs to clamber, so he did. These were much more steep, icier too, making the trek quite a lot more difficult than his first anticipation.
But at the top was a doorway to a throne room. It was vast. Beautiful. Just like everything else.
"Wait here."
As he did, Edmund let his dark eyes wander. The throne there was just as tall as the room, it's corners stretching to the ceiling. Upon the grand ice chair, a fur coat, too large for a normal human, even an adult.
Cold, and innocent, Edmund wandered over to it without thinking twice. He wrapped himself in the coat, sitting on the throne, looking around aimlessly. It was a nice feeling, he supposed, perhaps a little lonely.
Then the Witch approached. She was a tall woman, a half giant with blonde dreadlocks that reached her hip. They were a weapon in themselves, never mind the staff she kept close at all times. Her eyes were practically white, so clear, so frightening. There was something about her so uneasy, so... unnatural.
"Like it?"
Startled, Edmund fumbled with the coat, and stood up instantly. His face flushed. He was embarrassed. "Yes, Your-Your Majesty."
"I thought you might." She mused, brushing of her throne before sitting. "Tell me, Edmund. Are your sisters deaf?"
He stuttered, confused. "No."
"And your brother, is he unintelligent?"
"Well, I think so." He hesitated, toying with the idea. "But mum says..."
It wasn't enough. "Then how dare you come alone!"
"I tried!"
"Edmund, I asked so little of you."
He felt so small, so feeble. He could never compare to someone like her. "They just don't listen to me!"
"You couldn't even do that."
"Well, I did bring them halfway." Edmund blurted before he could think. His face was bright red as he huffed from the icy ground. He'd fallen- he just couldn't remember when. "They're at the little house at the dam with the Beavers."
"Well." The Witch hummed. "I suppose you're not a total loss then are you?"
It seemed like it was all over when she turned on her heels, facing away from him. Things might've been alright if he'd left his mouth shut.
"Well, I was wondering..." Edmund spoke up, still frightened and most definitely confused. But he was still a boy. "Could I maybe have some more Turkish delight now?"
She turned to the dwarf that had followed her so intently through the years. Ginarrbrik was his name, but that was all the Pevensie boy seemed to pick up. "Our guest is hungry."
"This way, for your num-nums."
His shoulder was gripped tightly, and a cool blade pressed into his back. His body froze. But he was lead away, like a prisoner on a death sentence.
"Maugrim!" The Witch called once again a "You know what to do."
It was only when the wolf howled that Edmund knew what he had done. There was no way back for him, and now his family were in danger too. They didn't deserve this. They never deserved it.
After the attack, the air felt different. It was hard to describe, but there was a new tension. The knowledge of a new enemy was dangerous thing, and knowing how to fight them would be the key to it all. They would have to search for it, though. Things like this didn't come easy or for free.
It was dark now too, far too late for any heat to come from the sky. The only way to keep warm was by firelight. And, anyway, Mrs Beaver needed to see what had happened to the fox that had helped them. He'd been damaged the most by the wolves.
"They were helping Tumnus." The fox panted, explaining exactly what had happened to the Badgers only the other day. "The Witch got there before I did. Ow!"
"Are you alright?" Lucy whispered, curiously.
He chuckled. "Well, I wish I could say their bark is worse than their bite. Ow!"
"Stop squirming." Mrs Beaver warned him. It seemed she could be quite stern when she wanted to be. "You're worse than Beaver on bath day."
Beaver rolled his eyes, mumbling beneath his breath. "Worst day of the year."
"Thank you for your kindness, but I'm afraid that's all the cure I have time for." The fox made his excuses.
The youngest Pevensie protested. "You're leaving?"
"It has been a pleasure, My Queen, and an honour, but time is short and Aslan himself has asked me to gather more troops."
The beavers gasped in admiration, perhaps even jealousy. It had been their dream to meet the Lion they often spoke of. "You've seen Aslan?"
"What's he like?" Mrs Beaver awed.
"Like everything we've ever heard." The fox nodded, knowingly. "You'll be glad to have both him and Aramis by your side in the battle against the witch."
"Who's Aramis?" Lucy questioned.
The name was a foreign one on her lips, but it shouldn't have been. He was famous, to some more so than Aslan, and had lived twice as long.
"The last star, of course."
"We're not planning on fighting any witch, anyway." Susan informed, rather primly for her siblings liking.
The orange animal didn't seem to like what she was saying. "But surely, King Peter, the prophecy!"
"We can't go to war without you." Beaver whispered.
Defeated, the blonde brother sighed. There was no pleasing everybody: he knew this by now. "We just want our brother back."
"Then let Aramis guide you." Said the fox, and it was the most truthful thing he could have ever said. "He will never leave your side."
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1960
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Disclaimer!!!!
I do not own these characters. I do not own the Narnia series. I do not own the actors, or the characters. The only thing I own is my adaptation of the story, and my original character.