Worthy Of Love | Edmund Pevensie

fourteen

ACT ONE; SCENE FOURTEEN —
THE BATTLE AT BERUNA

STRESS. STRESS. STRESS. This particular night was soon to be filled with nothing but utter stress — the battle was about to be put in place, no one felt anywhere near ready in preparation, and worst of all, Aslan was dead. Yes that's correct, Aslan was gone. The sorrowful news was about to be delivered late that night by one of the tress who had been sent from both Susan and Lucy after witnessing the cruel events of the great lion being sacrificed upon the Stone Table.

Dolores' eyes were sealed shut as she was deep in sleep, dreaming about her night with Edmund. That was until she was soon interrupted by the faint touch of a leaf gently brushing against her skin — the action of it causing her eyes to fling open as she grabbed for the nearest object to act as a weapon, her mind thinking of the worst case scenario. She quickly sat up in her bed, breathing heavily until her body began to relax upon witnessing the sighting of the leaves of a crabapple tree stood forming a human like shape.

"Be still, my Princess." it told her, it's voice seeming awfully soft, almost like a gentle symphony, "I bring grave news from your fellow friends."

Everything after that was a blur.

Dolores felt nothing but pure hatred for the White Witch once the news had found its way to her, yet at the same time she couldn't help but feel at blame for the lions death. Perhaps if she had went against his orders and continued to follow him to wherever he was heading then maybe, just maybe, she may have been able to prevent his life from being taken away from him. Though that wasn't very likely considering everything Aslan does has reason — but those thoughts still haunted the back of her mind and they won't go away until that Witch is dead, just as Aslan is.

But the real question is, how are such young children supposed to be expected to lead an army into war without the lion himself? Would they be able to handle it? Would they be courageous enough? That's only a question they are permitted to answer themselves, once they reach that battlefield there would be no turning back, no matter how much bravery they believe they may have.

Dolores could admit she felt a bit selfish for having such a pleasant outing with Edmund that night when knowing something was going on with Aslan, yet she openly chose to ignore it in the moment. But now that only added on to her numbers of stress considering she had decided to go for her own greedy desires instead of investigating her poor friends whereabouts. Though, how could she have possibly known she was practically walking him to his death? — if there was one thing this poor girl didn't deserve, it was to lay all the blame on herself, to which you'll find she was doing the exact opposite.

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"She's right." Peter spoke, walking disappointedly out of Aslan's tent as he wanted to ensure the news he had received was nothing but the truth, "He's gone."

Dolores bit down on her lip in attempts to scold herself for acting so foolishly — the tears tried their hardest to escape from her eyes and trickle slowly down her face to show the true suffering, yet she would not allow them. How was she going to fight alongside an army when she couldn't even handle the death of a lion she had met not even a week ago? If there was one thing she did know, it was that she had to be strong, strong for herself and strong for her people.

Both Edmund and Dolores stared at Oreius in hopes that he knew what to do, they were only children, they could, and should not be expected to handle not only a war, but all of this grief on their own. They needed support from all they could get, hopefully what they did have was enough.