Romeo || Edmund Pevensie

Waiting For The Man

Defeating the slavers was something that the Lone Isles had been attempting to do for years, and being rid of them was a weight off of their chests. The people appreciated it so much that they left their homes and clapped them down to the docks. There was a sense of joy in them all, and it made their small walk much more comfortable.

     Whilst Edmund should have been stood near the front with Caspian, he decided against it. Aramis was never one to be the centre of attention, especially after an experience as traumatic as that one. It was in his best interest to stay close by, and hold him as close as possible as soon as he had the chance. His shackles were gone, but he still felt bound.

The dagger had done him no good. It had only caused him more problems. He really needed to rest, and Edmund knew it too. It was at the forefront of his mind as they edged towards their boats through the crowds. It was always nice to be appreciated, but not at moments like these.

"Your Majesty!" They heard someone calling, but they ignored it at first. Only when he ran to Caspian did they pay attention. "Your Majesty!"

"Hold it." Drinian warned with unforgiving eyes, holding him so tightly that the fabric of his clothes would break if he tried to get free.

"My wife was taken this morning!" Aramis presumed he meant with the green fog on the water, that they couldn't properly see, but Edmund and Caspian had mentioned since.

A young girl ran up to him and clasped his leg like a lifeline. "Daddy!"

"It's alright, Drinian." Caspian dismissed his Captain, understanding that sometimes more should be done than ever happened.

"I beg you." The man pleaded. "Take me with you."

"I want to come." His daughter cried, but he pulled her away.

"No, Gael, stay with your Aunt. I'm a fine sailor. Been in the seas my whole life."

If there had ever been any doubt in Caspian to how great a King he would be, then all of their worries would have been washed away with his sincerity and kindness. "Of course." He agreed, warmly. "You must."

"Thank you."

The closer they got to the docks, the harder it was for Aramis to continue. With every step it felt like they were going nowhere, and that it was getting harder to breathe. Edmund grasped his hand, and squeezed it. The sooner they boarded the Dawn Treader, the better.

When they reached the harbour, an old man greeted them, running in their direction despite being frail. Aramis would later learn that he was one of the seven lords that Caspian had long searched for. Despite it being such an awful experience, it was highly rewarding for the King to have accomplished so much.

"My King! My King!"

He held a sword in his hands that had been covered by crusted shellfish and sand over the years. Although, it did look magnificent, if they could look beyond the exterior. And because Caspian was involved, they all followed in his footsteps to greet him halfway.

"This was given to me by your father." His voice was shaky, but it didn't seem to have any less clarity. "I hid it safely in a cave all these years."

"That's an Old Narnian sword." Edmund sighed, clearly take aback by the sight of it.

"It's from your Golden Age. There are seven such swords, gifts from Aslan to protect Narnia. Your father entrusted them to us. Here, take it." He offered the sword to Caspian. "And may it protect you too."

The crowds cheered as he picked the handle from the palms of the lord. They didn't deserve all of the attention they were given.

"Thank you, my Lord." Caspian smiled to him, honestly. "And we shall find your lost citizens."

Those words seemed to brighten the man's face, and might have made everything so much easier for him. Knowing that all of his life's work was being out to good use meant he could finally rest. It had been far too long.

"Edmund." Nonchalantly, Caspian handed the sword to his superior, knowing that it would make his day that much better. It was a project for him to focus on.

But it wasn't just that which mattered. There was a silent dignity that Old Narnian things brought Edmund. They reminded him of who he was once, and the person he might yet be. It gave him the fondness of the Golden Era, and how wonderful his life had been, even if there was a melancholic air to it all.

It didn't take them too long to row back to their ship, and as soon as they did, Edmund guided Aramis down below deck and into his quarters. He didn't like to mention it, but he could feel the spirit shaking, and he needed to find a way to calm him down as quickly as possible. But saying in his stained clothes wouldn't help at all.

     With gentle hands, Edmund took the tunic part of Aramis' robes and lifted them over his head. Then, he helped loosen the waist of the skirt-like bottoms, which were rather easy to remove after that. There was blood all over his skin. The plan had been to just get him straight back into new robes, but in a state like this, it would have been unwise.

     Aramis couldn't bare to look his King in the eyes as he tended to the flesh wounds. It was far too embarrassing to have to be taken care of by royalty, but he couldn't find the energy in himself to move away. So he stayed put, against his wishes.

     The cloth dabbed at his wrists, eventually, and it took all of the mental strength that Aramis had not to complain. They were the rawest cuts, with dark bruises certain to form soon enough. Edmund, every so often, looked to him with soft eyes and with a gentle voice asked if he was okay, and asked if it hurt. The spirit didn't trust his voice to dampen the truth. Instead, he nodded, hoping that answer would suffice enough.

Then they were able to reclothe him in softer robes that wouldn't feel as restrictive. They were loose anyway, but sometimes it didn't help for him to feel that way.

     When he was finally more comfortable in his place, Aramis was wrapped in a soft blanket to keep him warm. He didn't tell Edmund that he wasn't cold, because it was a nice gesture, and it showed how much he cared. That was more important to him than anything else.

     "Will you talk to me?" The freckled boy asked, sitting beside Aramis, their legs touching ever so slightly. "You don't have to."

  "I apologise." The spirit hung his head lowly. "This is not how you should see me, Edmund. I am a disgrace to you and your Kingdom."

  "I don't know why you think this." He replied, honestly. "But you've never been a disgrace. You've only ever been good to us, and me especially. I could have never asked for anyone better to care for us."

     Aramis looked to him with a soft gaze. He didn't deserve Edmund. This much had been obvious from the day they met, and the day they'd fallen in love. He was other worldly and he was just a slave to tradition.

     "I love you, you know." The Pevensie boy wrapped his hands around Aramis', but never forced him to look his way. "And I am here for you, whenever you're ready to talk."

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Disclaimer!!!!
I do not own these characters. I do not own the Narnia series. I do not own the actors, or the characters. The only thing I own is my adaptation of the story, and my original character.