Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia or any of the characters. They are property of C.S. Lewis.

The mood at Anvard was one of despair and sadness. Edmund never did well with either type of emotion and the funeral of Archenland's Queen had nearly been his undoing. Not that he cried. He hated crying in front of others and it was very rare that he let emotions get the better of him. Susan and Lucy, however, had known the Queen rather well and had been sobbing the whole time. King Lune, of course, was in quite a state, and even Peter had shed a tear. Edmund could hardly stand it, so he managed to steal away from the dinner following the funeral.

Edmund was walking in the gardens of the castle when he heard the very thing he thought he'd escaped. Someone was crying. He didn't want to disturb them and turned to walk in the other direction when he tripped over a stray tree root and stumbled. It was very un-king-like of him and he hoped no one heard nor saw. A voice, however, called out, "Who's there?"

The voice belonged to Prince Corin, King Lune's son, and Edmund recognized it immediately. He recalled that Corin had not cried once during the funeral, even though it was his mother they were mourning. Now, it seemed, he was making up for it.

The Prince emerged from a pathway running perpendicular to the one Edmund was on. He looked a mess, his fair hair sticking up in all directions and his eyes red, tear stains evident on his cheeks. "King Edmund?" the six-year-old croaked. He moved to wipe at his eyes angrily.

"Prince Corin," Edmund responded. "I had no idea you would be out here. Aren't you supposed to be back inside?" He started walking again and gestured for the young prince to join him. Together they continued down the path.

"I didn't want to," Corin said. He looked very upset still. "Every one is so sad and they kept crying on me today. And they keep asking if I'm sad too. I don't like being sad, especially not in front of people."

"Ah, I see," Edmund said. "I don't like it so much either. That's why I came out here."

"You don't get sad," Corin said. He quickened his pace and Edmund had no trouble keeping up.

"What makes you say that?"

"You didn't look as sad as the others," Corin told him. "You just looked uncomfortable. And serious. You don't seem like you cry, at least."

"I do," Edmund said. He sighed thoughtfully. "I am like you, I suppose. I too don't like to be sad around others, but rather on my own."

"Is it…weak of me to cry?" Corin asked suddenly. The two passed a bench and Edmund made them sit on it. Corin was so short his feet only brushed the ground.

"Weak?" Edmund repeated in surprise. "Certainly not, Corin. Why would you think that? Even the High King Peter shed tears today, as I'm sure you noticed, as did your Father. It isn't weak to cry, especially not in your case."

Corin sighed this time and for a second his eyes were overly bright. Edmund had no idea what to do or say to help calm him. He could only say, as the tears fell, "It's alright. It's going to be alright" and pat the prince awkwardly on the back.

"It's not," Corin cried. "I shall never see her again! How is that alright?"

"It's not," Edmund admitted, "but there is a bright side, Corin, if you choose to see it this way. Your Mother, I have no doubt about it, is in Aslan's country. You will see her one day, though it may not be soon. But you will see her again."

"Really?" Corin asked, his tears starting to let up.

"Really." The two sat in silence for a bit, the only sounds being the rustle of plants as the wind went through them and the young prince's sniffling. The sun was setting a bit more rapidly now and the air was getting cooler, and it was getting darker. Then Corin asked something Edmund had not anticipated.

"Where is your Mother? Is she with Aslan as well?"

Edmund nearly fell off the bench, but years of being a king had taught him to control his emotions, so he merely gave a slight cough and took a deep breath. He thought and then replied, "My Mother is not with Aslan…because she is not dead." Although he had not been sure before, as he said the words he knew them to be true. His Mother was still alive, somewhere.

"How come she doesn't rule Narnia, then? Or your Father? Is he dead?" Corin seemed very curious now as to the whereabouts of Edmund's parents.

"Well…" Edmund truthfully had not even thought of this. Memories of his parents had faded and then left him and his siblings while they ruled in Narnia. Yet now he was being forced to remember them. Yet they seemed to be from a dream. "I don't think he's dead. I just…don't remember."

"You don't remember?" Corin asked incredulously. "They're your parents!"

Edmund felt a stab of shame as he realized Corin was right. He should, at the very least, have remembered his parents, even if he didn't remember where he came from. He thought further, Corin looking at him curiously, and then something hit him. "Great Scott!" he exclaimed, using an expression that was extremely foreign to the both of them.

"'Great Scott'? What is that?" Corin asked in confusion. "I've never heard that before."

"I-I don't know," Edmund admitted, just as shocked. "I think it was a phrase I used back where I came from…Spare Oom…like one would say 'By the Lion'. I just remembered something. I believe my Father went off to war, and that right now he's in another world, the one we came from. If only I could remember exactly what brought us here."

Corin simply stared at the Narnian King in shock, having never experienced something like this in his life. Then he said, "Well, I guess you're worse off than I am. My Mother's with Aslan, but you don't even know where yours is."

Despite himself, Edmund laughed. "That's one way of looking at it," he said, and then noticed that it was near completely dark. "We had better get back. Your Father doesn't need anything more to worry about."

"If we must," Corin sighed. "Thank you for the talk." Edmund only smiled and led them back into the castle.

Later, after the dinner was over and everyone was asleep, Edmund found himself awake thinking (or trying to think) of life before Narnia. He got out of bed and wandered the unfamiliar castle to find Peter's room, wishing for a moment that he was back at Cair Paravel, his home. A smaller part of him longed for somewhere else, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out where it was. He knocked on Peter's door and was greeted by his sleepy older brother.

"Edmund, is there a reason?" he asked, rubbing his eyes and looking less like the High King and more like an ordinary nineteen year old.

Edmund suppressed a grin. "I want to talk to you, actually," he said. Peter allowed him to enter into the room and they sat on his bed. "It's about our parents."

"Our…parents, did you say?" Peter looked more confused than ever and he frowned. "Edmund, why, I haven't thought of them in ages."

"We should have!" Edmund said, suddenly aware of an odd sadness completely unrelated to the day's funeral coming over him. He also felt a bit angry with himself "Who are we, to forget our own parents? Why did we, anyway? What kind of children are we?"

"You have to understand," Peter said, trying to calm his younger brother down, "our parents aren't here. How can we remember them if we haven't seen them in ages?"

"It just seems like something we should remember," Edmund said shakily. "Imagine if Corin forgot his Mother just because she died. That wouldn't be…right. He's not going to forget her."

"Perhaps there's a reason we forgot," Peter suggested. "I only remember bits and pieces, now that I think of it."

"I do, as well," Edmund agreed. "I remember that our Father went off to war and our Mother sent us away…but I don't know from where or to where. I know we stayed with a Professor, but for the life of me I don't know what we did there or even how we got there. I don't remember how we got here, either, for that matter." After a long pause he added, "Do you think our Father is still alive? Do they miss us?"

"I've no idea," Peter admitted. "Your guess is as good as mine. I think I remember the part about our Father and a war. It's all so fuzzy, like trying to recall a dream after you've woken up. And even now it's slipping away again."

"I'm afraid of that," Edmund said quietly. "I feel it slipping away as well and I don't want to completely forget. I feel as though we shouldn't. It is our past, after all. And yet…"

Peter sighed and ran a hand over his face. He looked older, all of a sudden. "Perhaps Aslan doesn't want us to remember our parents," he thought out loud, "because it would interfere with our ability to rule. If we did remember where we came from we might want to go back."

Edmund laughed a bit. "I think it has more to do with ourselves rather than Aslan. I have a feeling I, at least, don't want to remember everything. Something must have happened there that I want to forget. Perhaps it's because Narnia is the beginning of our lives, not literally of course, but…do you know what I mean? I know upon entering Narnia I was a terrible little beast. Imagine what I was like before! Narnia began to…better our lives."

"I think I do know," Peter said with a smile. "I'm sure if we really needed to remember Aslan would help us, and I suppose you're right. We just might not want to remember. After all, if what you're saying is true and there was a war then it must not have been pleasant living for us."

Or perhaps we don't want to remember because, much as we may have loved our parents, we don't want to go back, Edmund thought, but he didn't voice this aloud. Instead he said, "This has been quite the discussion, but I feel like I should be getting to sleep."

"You should," Peter said. Then he asked, abruptly, "Who got you thinking about this?"

"Corin," Edmund answered. "He asked me where my Mother was and, well…I realized I couldn't remember."

"I see," Peter said. "Well, then, sleep well."

"Same to you," Edmund called as he exited the room. He had no doubt Peter would sleep well. He nearly always did.

As he entered his room Edmund felt slightly guilty. He knew he didn't want to go back to where he came from, regardless of whether his parents were there, and that he wanted to stay in Narnia his whole life. Of course, this meant that his parents would never see their children again and he felt even worse. In addition, he felt terrible for forgetting them, though he supposed it couldn't be helped with everything else going on. Everything from before Narnia had become foggy at best and even now he was starting to forget what little he remembered.

As he lay down and started to fall asleep he tried to hold on to those memories as long as he could. Much as he didn't want to go back, he didn't want to forget his parents either. He had the feeling that no matter what had been going on where he came from, he and his siblings had loved their parents deeply.

Yet, try as he might, Edmund would forget. The things he had managed to remember would not resurface again until years later when, while hunting a Stag, he and his siblings would come across a very peculiar lamp-post and it would all rush back to him like a long-forgotten dream.