Chapter 2: The Brother That Lived

Chapter 2: The Brother That Lived

Author’s Note- There will be another chapter after this one, I promise! I know this is very short but there is a reason and that shall be explained in the final chapter. Enjoy!

Edmund fell into a deep sleep, his heart filled with inexpressible sadness. He wondered if he would see the stranger from another world again, and what words would pass between the two.

He opened his eyes, and much to his surprise, he found himself standing in a nearly empty room. He recognized it immediately; it was a special room of an old house in England. He had not been here in a year. Before him stood a door to another world, a beautifully crafted wardrobe. The wardrobe.

“It seems we meet again, King Edmund the Just, and in a far stranger place than before.” Edmund turned and saw that Faramir stood behind him. Faramir’s grey eyes were tinged with sadness.

“This is my other world,” Edmund managed to get out, his voice choked with emotion. “This is England.”

The two were silent for a long time. They stared at each other, grief tugging at their hearts. Both knew that a brother had lived, and a brother had died. They struggled to find the words to announce their relief or sadness.

“My brother lives,” one said softly, knowing how much pain he brought to the other’s heart. But the words had to be said, no matter how painful.

“He fell.” His voice was filled sadness. He choked back a sob, remembering the horrible moment he realized his brother was dead.

Faramir stepped forward, moved by Edmund’s grief.

“I know,” Faramir said softly. He took Edmund’s hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“Miraz took him from me, Faramir. They agreed to rest, and while Pete- Peter’s back was turned, Miraz stabbed him in the back. I saw Miraz turn, I screamed for Peter to turn, but I…. I was too late. He couldn’t even turn. It… it went right through his armor. I couldn’t help him, I couldn’t…” Edmund was chattering uncontrollably, his speech in short agonizing bursts.

“Oh, Edmund,” Faramir breathed, and squeezed the boy’s hand tightly. Edmund’s body was trembling, fighting the bitter tears that would inevitably fall.

“I watched him fall. He looked right at me, and then fell. I didn’t know what to do. I’ve fought for him before, but what could I do? He was on the ground and Miraz was charging forward.”

Edmund swallowed hard, recalling the horrible moment after Peter’s fatal wounding. Miraz had charged forward, a war cry upon his lips, his sword red with Peter’s blood. Had it not been for Trumpkin’s deadly arrow, Edmund would not have lived to say goodbye to Peter.

“I held him, and I watched him die. I watched the light in his eyes flicker and fade. He couldn’t even speak. He just stared at me. Oh, Faramir!” Edmund finally lost the battle with his tears. He crumpled to his knees and found himself in Faramir’s embrace.

“He fell, Faramir, he fell,” Edmund sobbed. Faramir did not speak. He continued to hold Edmund just as Peter would have held him.

“Oh, Peter,” Edmund whispered, and fell into darkness.