Whatever It Takes

by mokatster

Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia. Several lines in this story are quoted from the movie The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Rating for language.

A/N: This extremely short fic was inspired by figster's video "Come Home," which can be found on youtube. All of her Narnia videos are beautiful—check them out!

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The fight for you is all I've ever known.

~Come Home, One Republic

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"That boy will die on the Stone Table!"

The Witch's dire proclamation rang in my ears, sending a flood of horror throughout my entire body. It was so strong that I barely noticed Aslan proposing a negotiation, and the Witch joining him in his tent.

Edmund's terrified eyes met my own, both of us united in our fear and realization that we were utterly powerless against what was happening. I turned away and stared at the entrance to Aslan's tent. It didn't so much as twitch for five minutes. Then another five passed…and then five more…

Edmund sank onto the ground, his face drawn. He ripped up handfuls of grass, his hands shaking with anxiety as he twisted the green blades until they tore. I sat close by and clasped my hands on my crossed legs, pretending to examine them while really studying Edmund from under my brows.

God, he looked so scared…

I swallowed hard to get rid of the aching lump in my throat, trying not to panic, and cast desperately around for something to distract myself. My wandering thoughts recalled Aslan, and our conversation from the previous day.

"Saving him may be harder than you think."

I scowled darkly. Aslan hadn't told me that it would be bloody impossible. I could do nothing to save Edmund. It mattered not that I was his older brother, that I had promised Mum—and Dad, before he left—that I would keep him safe. Despite my struggle to protect my siblings from the war back home and from this sadistic Witch, I could do nothing to defend my brother now. The feeling of overwhelming helplessness to protect the people I loved the most was almost more than I could stand, and I felt my chest tighten with suppressed emotion.

"I need you to consider what I ask of you…"

I bit back a derisive laugh. It almost made me sick to think that just hours before, I had been willing to risk my life to defend Narnia. To hell with Narnia and its Deep Magic! If it condemned my brother to death, then there was no way I was fighting to protect it. If staying here meant that Edmund had to die, then we were going to get back to the lamppost and find the wardrobe door, even if we had to run the whole way. I was half-tempted to grab Ed and the girls and leave at that moment, but some nagging feeling in the back of my mind kept me rooted to the spot. Again, I glanced back toward Aslan's tent and the entrance flap's profound lack of movement.

"I just wanted my brother back!" I wanted to shout. I wanted to rage against Aslan for allowing this to happen. I hadn't come to Aslan to offer my allegiance. I hadn't come to defend Narnia from anyone. I had just wanted Aslan to save my brother's life.

And he had. But would he—could he—do it again?

"Do anything," I pleaded, silently. "Please, Aslan, do anything to save Edmund! I don't care what it takes!"

I could have cared less what happened to Narnia. I just wanted to know that my brother was going to be all right, that we were going to stay together, that I would have the chance to tell him—

The Witch emerged and I rose quickly, barely aware of everyone around me standing as well. I took one look at the Witch's face and my stomach plummeted. She exuded triumph, and as she walked past us she stared hard at Edmund, the beginnings of a malevolent smile curling the corners of her lips.

Desperately, my eyes sought Aslan, and it was with another surge of fear that I noticed the Lion's dejection. His eyes were downcast and his ears and tail sagged to the ground. I waited for him to proclaim Edmund's doom, and tensed, my mind furiously calculating just how fast the four of us would have to run to escape the Stone Table. Then the Lion stirred, and announced:

"She has renounced her claim on the Son of Adam's blood."

So great had been my fear that it took me a few seconds to comprehend this. Edmund wasn't going to die! The Witch had given up! He wasn't going to die!

My relief was so strong it left me giddy. Edmund's eyes met mine, his face exhilarated, and for that moment complete joy flooded my senses. My brother wasn't going to die. He wasn't going to die.

It wasn't until the next morning that I discovered what it had taken to save him.

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"No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord."

John 10:1

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A/N: Lirenel has written a beautiful and heart-wrenching story called "Jehovahjirah." Comparing the Peter in her story with the Peter in mine shows how kingship changed him. If you haven't read it already, check it out!

Thanks for reading! Any and all reviews are much appreciated!