I thought there was no Christmas in Narnia?
No, not for a long time… But the hope that you've brought, your majesties, have finally started to weaken the Witch's power.
Summary: You see Edmund and Lucy again in the most unexpected of places after their departure three years earlier.
Warnings: kissing (between Edmund x reader)
. . .
Salt.
It was misting over your face, tangy as it melted on your tongue.
The sun was just rising over the horizon, the endless blues of the sea turning golden and pink as they reflected the light.
Besides the creaking of the ship, and the shuffling of feet below deck as the crew began to stir and rise for the day, all was silent.
You had been waking up early every day since the voyage had begun. Without any reason, drawn to the crow’s nest in the misty grays of dawn before the rest of the world awakened. Watching the sunrise from the perfect spot.
The day would be like any other that had come before.
When Caspian, in all his kingly charm, had requested that you accompany him on this trip to the ends of the world you had been expecting more dangerous conquests. All you had battled so far was seasickness.
“Good morning. See anything?” The aforementioned king called up his usual greeting to you, hair ruffling in the cool breeze.
“Sea and more sea!”
You don’t hear it but can imagine the chuckle he releases through the rise and fall of his shoulders as he walks away to resume his check of the ship.
The sun continues to rise higher and higher into the sky, a cloudless day stretching away. You had snuck away to catch a moment of quiet in the crow’s nest.
Watching the empty waves was beginning to bore you.
When.
It couldn’t be-
“Caspian!” You yelled, jumping over the wooden beams that held you aloft. Grabbing hold of the rope to slide down, all the while yelling Caspian’s name.
“What is it?”
“There on the eastern starboard, I saw something. Someone.”
Caspian runs to the railing, quickly yelling orders at the crew to begin a rescue.
Rescue?
You’re too stunned by the possibility of a rescue to react when Caspian himself dives into the water. You’ve been watching the waters - there have been no sightings of any boats or ships for days now. Not even a rowboat.
The creak of the pulley grabs your attention, dragging first Caspian into view and then the young girl huddled against his side.
It couldn’t possibly be-
Lucy Pevensie. Daughter of Eve.
She shouts your name and crashes into you with little grace. You don’t care that she’s dripping water everywhere, returning her fierce embrace.
“Oh Lucy.” You can’t help the wide smile.
And then you see him, standing besides Caspian with his own smile looking at you.
“Edmund.” You breathe so quietly you aren’t sure you say anything, but Lucy pulls away and beckons her brother over.
He says your name just as quietly and gets close enough for you to touch him but he doesn’t make the first move, just looking and looking.
“Well come here!” You wrap your arms around him, relishing the way he grabs onto you gently. Almost shyly.
He whispers your name again, to himself, committing every bit of this to memory. He thought he remembered everything; but now he realizes how much he’s forgotten. The way you felt against him, the feel of your hair against his face, the way you smell.
A piercing scream cuts your reunion short, and Edmund has even more reason to despise his cousin when he feels the loss of your warmth against him.
“Welcome aboard the Dawn Treader.”
. . .
Edmund tried to fall asleep, he truly did.
The creaking of the ship and the swaying of his hammock made of his stomach roll, but he could’ve adapted to it if it wasn’t for the snoring of Eustace. He also couldn’t stop thinking about you and how much his heart swelled, almost painfully, when he thought about the look on your face when you saw him. Like you were happy to see him.
He’s sitting outside now, on the eastern stern of the ship, giddy at the feeling of the wind against his face. Narnian air.
“Edmund.”
His gaze cuts from the endless water to your form, seemingly materializing out of nowhere. Like a dream. It feels too much like the many dreams he had back home, wanting nothing more than to see you again.
“Mind if I join you?”
He shuffles over on the bench, trying to contain his grin when you open the blanket you brought and drape it over your shoulders and his.
“Tell me about your world.”
You play with his hand, tracing over the lines on his palm. Edmund doesn’t know how to describe it to you; he’s fought battles by your side, danced with you under the Narnian sky while fireworks flashed across the sky. In England, he’s no one.
“There’s nothing exciting there. Nothing like what we did.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
“I suppose so.”
You can tell there’s more he isn’t saying, something that is eating away from him. But you don’t pry. Not yet.
“Tell me. What have you been doing since I left?” Edmund asks.
You hum, fingers still tracing over the lines on Edmundo’s palm. Trying to reconcile three years worth of memories into something amusing or daring, but the truth is… that without Edmund, dealing with his sudden departure had left you in misery.
“Can I be honest with you, Edmund?”
He doesn’t answer right away, shifting slightly so he’s turned toward you instead of side by side. Hand gently squeezing yours.
“Of course you can.”
“The past three years have been amazing, theoretically. Caspian has managed to restore peace and order to the lands, Narnians have been rebuilding their lives and I… I missed you. I kept thinking to myself, ‘Edmund would love this’.”
“I missed you too.” Edmund says quietly. “Lucy had to drag me out of bed most days, because at least in my dreams I might get to visit you again.”
“Edmund?”
He hums in response.
You turn your body so you’re facing him too, the blanket you’d brought slipping down to your waist. Even with the chilly breeze from the ocean you don’t feel cold, feeling the warmth radiating from Edmund. From where his thigh touches yours. His hand still in yours.
You ask the question that you’ve thought about every night since he and his siblings walked through the tree back into their world.
“Why didn’t you kiss me?”
You don’t have to specify - when, where, what? Edmund knows exactly what you’re talking about.
The night of Caspian’s coronation, the sky lit up with fireworks. The way the colors flashed over your face, the whizz and crack of the fireworks vibrating through his chest. Your hands on his shoulder, his on your waist.
It felt like a moment torn out of a fairytale, the only thing missing was a twirl and a dip in the dance that ended in a kiss.
Instead, once the majority of the merriment commenced, the fireworks fizzled out and the food and drink all gone, Edmund walked you to your room. You remember the way your heart beat, so fast, feeling more nervous than you had on the battlefield days earlier.
“Goodnight,” Edmund had said, pressing a kiss to your hand and then he was gone in the castle shadows. The next day he was gone from Narnia.
“I did kiss you.” He has a hint of a smirk on his lips, but you can see the flush on his cheeks.
“On the hand does not count! Did you not want to kiss me?”
“Of course I did. I’ve spent three years thinking how foolish I was not to.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“I knew Susan and Peter had spoken to Aslan and that they seemed upset. I had a suspicion of what they discussed. So, that night with you… I felt that if we got closer than we already had, I wouldn’t be able to bear it. Knowing how it felt and then leaving. I’m not sure I would’ve gone with them.”
“I thought I misread you.”
“I’ve spent three years regretting that night. I should have kissed you.”
“I think it’s time we rectify that, hm?”
You kiss him, and you’re struck by how warm he is. Slow and languid, the kiss is sweet. Filled with years of pent up longing finally being released.
Shaking your hand loose, your hand slides up to his neck, gently guiding his eager mouth closer to yours. He breath hitches in his throat, biting back a moan.
It gets messy, clumsy. Noses bumping against each other. His hand finds it way to your waist, your own hands slipping into the loose hair at the nape of his neck. You pull him closer and closer until he’s pressed right against you.
You pull away with a heaving breath, Edmund chasing your lips.
“I need a breather.” You huff out.
“I’ve thought about doing that every single night since Caspian’s coronation.”
“Oh, you mean after you chickened out and didn’t kiss me? And then left for three years?”
Edmund rolls his eyes, pulling away in his stubbornness. “I didn’t see you making a move either, oh fearless one.”
“I think I just did.”
“Three years later.” He mocks.
You shut him up with another kiss, this time finding a rhythm with your lips that makes your toes curl.
The voyage ahead was certain to become more dangerous with each passing day, but here, wrapped in a king's embrace, you think of nothing else but him. Edmund.
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