The Return to the Old- An Edmund Pevensie Fanfiction

Chapter Fourteen

Talia turned to face the celebrating Narnians, her eyes scanning the crowd for familiar faces. Caspian stood near the edge of the square, his slight smile a rare reprieve from the usual seriousness etched into his features. He was deep in conversation with the ship's captain, gesturing occasionally, his tone calm and deliberate. Every so often, his gaze flicked over to her, as if ensuring she was still there, still standing. She knew him well enough to guess what he was doing—planning their next steps, considering logistics, strategizing for the battles still to come.

A faint pang twisted in her chest. She couldn't deny his dedication to leadership or the weight of his responsibilities as King, but she had thought—hoped—that after everything, after so many months apart, his first instinct might have been to come to her. She looked down at her trembling hands, still weak from exhaustion, her body bruised and battered from captivity, and wondered if he saw her at all or if the crown he bore blinded him to anything beyond duty.

But Edmund—Edmund was nowhere to be seen.

Her chest tightened as her eyes swept the crowd again, searching desperately. She felt the weight of everything pressing down on her now, the adrenaline that had carried her finally ebbing. Her body ached with a raw, unforgiving pain, the kind that seeped into her very bones. The magical intensity that had healed her wound had taken its toll; she was weaker than she'd ever felt before, trembling on the edge of collapse. Hunger gnawed at her stomach, and the edges of her vision blurred. But she forced herself to stay upright, scanning the jubilant crowd, her heart pounding with desperation.

Then, through the many Narnians, she spotted him.

Edmund emerged from the crowd like a force of nature, his strides quick and purposeful, his face etched with concern. Blood streaked his trousers and splattered his tunic, his dark hair matted with sweat and dirt. His handsome features bore scrapes and bruises, each one a mark of his fight for her freedom. But his sharp eyes were only for her now, their dark depths alight with unspoken emotion. Unlike Caspian, who had remained composed and focused, Edmund cast aside every duty, every obligation, and ran straight for her.

"Talia!" he called, his voice hoarse but urgent, sprinting her way. 

She barely had the strength to respond, but the moment his arms engulfed her, she melted into his embrace. The exhaustion she'd been fighting so hard to ignore rushed forward, and she collapsed against him, her face pressed to his shoulder. His arms tightened around her, steadying her, holding her as though he would never let go.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured, his voice breaking as he cradled her trembling form. "I'm so sorry I couldn't come sooner."

She said nothing at first, resting against him, letting the weight of their shared pain settle between them. The square seemed to quiet, the celebrating Narnians pausing to watch. They all knew of their tragic love story, whispered in hushed tones of admiration and heartbreak. Now, seeing them together again, broken yet unyielding, the crowd looked on in awe.

"You're here now," Talia finally whispered, her voice fragile but steady.

Edmund pulled back just enough to look at her, his hand rising to stroke her tangled hair. Gently, he tucked a stray strand behind her ear, his thumb brushing her cheek with infinite tenderness. "I'm not leaving you again," he promised, his tone raw with sincerity.

Her lips trembled as she gazed up at him, her own hands clutching weakly at his bloodied tunic. "Edmund," she whispered, her voice catching. "Not a day. Not a day went by I didn't think of you. I'm sorry..." Her voice cracked, and tears welled in her eyes. "I'm sorry I never said goodbye."

Edmund's expression softened, his dark eyes glistening as he shook his head, "your letter said all, but don't ever do that to me again." he said with a soft laugh. 

His words were a balm, soothing the raw edges of her heart. For a moment, they simply held each other, letting the world around them fade away.

But the toll of the past seven months, the starvation, the torture, the unrelenting pain—all of it came crashing down on Talia at once. Her knees buckled, her strength finally giving out. Edmund caught her as she sagged against him, his arms tightening protectively around her.

"Talia!" he called urgently, lowering her gently to the ground. His voice was laced with panic as he cradled her limp form, brushing the hair from her face.

"She's fainted," someone in the crowd murmured, and another voice added, "She needs rest. Food."

But Edmund barely heard them. His entire focus was on her, his hands trembling as he checked her breathing.

"She'll be alright," a familiar voice cut through the murmur of the crowd. Caspian had stepped forward, his expression steady but laced with concern. He crouched beside Edmund, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Get her to the ship. We'll make sure she's cared for."

Edmund's jaw tightened, but he nodded, gathering Talia into his arms as if she weighed nothing. Her head lolled against his chest, her breaths shallow but even. The Narnians parted to let him pass, their cheers now subdued into whispers, their gazes filled with a mixture of awe and reverence for the woman who had endured so much and still found the strength to save them.

As Edmund carried her toward the ship, Caspian stood watching, his face impassive. His eyes followed them, lingering on Talia's pale form. A shadow passed over his expression—was it regret, longing, or something else entirely? Whatever it was, he quickly masked it, turning back to the Narnians with his usual air of command.

"For Narnia!" someone cried, and the crowd erupted once more in cheers, but Caspian's thoughts were elsewhere. 

Edmund didn't stop to acknowledge the celebration. For him, there was only Talia, and the quiet promise he whispered as he carried her away.

"I'm here. I'm staying. I'll never let you go again."