Romeo || Edmund Pevensie

Miracle Goodnight

Edmund was not the sort of King to exert power, nor was he the kind of boy to make himself known in many situations. It was his prerogative to live in ways he never had before, and do so, without drawing attention to himself. Even when committing to his duty, he found it hard to abide by his own rules.

He had never been a loud child. For the majority of his youngest years, he was silent, scared to say a word. Peter was loud, of course, but he... was rambunctious. He acted out rather than speaking up. It got him into more trouble than it would ever be worth, but it was the only way he knew how to gain their attention.

It seemed odd to him now that he would ever have to fight for someone to even look at him. Edmund was aware that he was sought after more now than ever. Their attention to him was something he could not get used to, or enjoy, for that matter.

All he was concerned with was himself, and those close to him. His mind was often at war with past grievances, and he had no time for outlying issues.

When all of the Telmarine's had all been removed from the sight of Beruna, there was a short time where everyone else was busy, and Edmund was left alone. Sometimes, he wished it happened more often so that he could battle his demons with no distraction. Others, there was nothing worse than the pained coils of his mind ringing through his ears like there was no end to worldly torment.

He had stayed on the shoreline, facing the water, with his legs crossed. Edmund could only wonder what happened beneath the waves; it was not a coincidence he felt the deeper tendrils take over his mind. When there was no light to distract him, his guilt wallowed in darkness.

In truth, he needed Aramis.

The spirit was one of laughter, and of love, in every sense of the word. He would care, and he would listen, with no questions asked. It was his duty to care, but upon his own word, he was a saviour.

Edmund was glad to have known him, but if it was the end, then he could not live with all unspoken moments that should have occurred between the two of them. Sitting at the beach was a bad idea, clearly, as all he could think of was Aramis. Aslan had promised, hadn't he? And a promise was never supposed to be broken.

By the time night fell, he was still there alone, though he couldn't be for much longer. He had promised to be at the Telmarine Castle by first morning light, otherwise, there would be a search party. His horse was waiting close by, for whenever he decided to make the short journey.

He didn't know how long he had been there when the water began to stir. It swayed like the wind, and sighed in parallel with Edmund, who watched. He couldn't know where it was going, or how it would end, but it looked beautiful. The moon reflected onto the surface, shimmering and contorting.

It did not stretch into the air as it had when Aslan moulded it, but rather rose, and fell away. Though, it did not come in waves. It came as a man, soaked through to the very core of his being, sort of soggy, but otherwise untouchable.

For a moment, Edmund thought he might be dreaming, and then hallucinating. He thought that the figure was much like Aramis, in height, and in build. Upon a closed inspection, which was only a few steps forward, he knew that his eyes were not deceiving. His heart swelled as the spirit stepped from the river.

All details did not come naturally to Edmund, and he did not pay attention to them at first. Instead, he ran to Aramis, and hugged him as tightly as he could manage, not caring that he was more than ankle deep in water. His clothes were becoming wetter by the second, transferred through the white robes the spirit wore. They clung to him, acting as a second skin.