Reunion
Title: Reunion
Fandom: The Chronicles of Narnia
Characters/Pairing: Edmund/Caspian
Disclaimer: CS Lewis has been dead for some time. If he were posting this stuff on the internet that would be weird, wouldn't it? Narnia is now owned by his estate, Walden Media & Disney. Not me.
Summary: Edmund and Caspian are reunited on the Dawn Treader.
Rating: PG
Word count: Approx 1900.
Author's notes: Sequel to Privacy, though chronologically Storytellers, Proving Ground and Aftermath would fit between that fic and this. Thanks to bluelittlegirl for the beta.
Be careful what you wish for, Edmund’s mother had always said. He had had cause to reflect on that maxim many times over the years, but none of those times had been quite like this. He was thrilled to be in Narnia again and Lucy was nigh on ecstatic; her joy as they had looked round the small but perfectly formed ship was enough in itself to make him glad they had come. He could have done without Eustace being there, but that was really a minor irritation next to the enormous pleasure that simply being in Narnia brought.
And yet… the last time they had returned hundreds of years had passed and he had expected it to be the same this time. In the slow, dark hours of early morning he had often thought of Caspian, but he had believed him long dead and seeing him now was more than a little disconcerting. It had been hard leaving after so short a time and even harder living in England knowing that every day Caspian was dying, was perhaps already dead. He had mourned when he had finally accepted that Caspian couldn’t possibly be alive any longer. Then he had put him away in the part of himself that held Mr Tumnus and the Beavers and Peridan and all the others he had lost. He had thought that, perhaps, when they got back to Narnia, he would go to find Caspian’s tomb; to lay a wreath on it and say goodbye.
That plan did not seem necessary now, for there was Caspian only feet away across the deck. If Edmund were to step forward a few paces and reach out his hand, he would be able to touch him. Edmund had to laugh; Aslan certainly kept one on one’s toes. He supposed this was what you got for thinking you had it all figured out; get too complacent and Aslan would simply pull the rug out from under you.
He turned his back and leaned over the rail, looking out to sea. Whenever Caspian was within his line of sight he found himself watching him. He had thought he would never see him again, and there he was in front of him. But he had to be careful. He was aware of the eyes of the crew on him all the time, just as stunned to see Edmund, Lucy and Eustace as Edmund was to see Caspian; one of them would be bound to notice eventually that he couldn’t take his eyes off the king. And so he turned away, his eyes on the horizon and his mind on the patch of deck on the other side of the ship where Caspian stood.
Aside from the shock of being confronted with someone he had believed to be dead, something else was bothering him. In only the few hours they had been on board it had been brought home forcefully to Edmund that he really didn’t know Caspian at all. The few days and one night they had spent together had been enough to reveal that he was brave and impetuous and stubborn and charismatic, and his kiss could set your skin on fire, but not nearly enough to know him. His emotions were often written all over his face but he kept his thoughts hidden. In the last three years it seemed he had learned to hide his emotions too.
Edmund closed his eyes and breathed deeply, willing the sharp air to blow away memories of their arrival: Caspian’s arms around him in the water; a beaming Caspian leading them around the ship; ‘a merry shipmate you’ve brought us, brother’ whispered in his ear, setting his nerves tingling. Did Caspian know the effect that simple action had on him? Edmund doubted it; he had practically had to drag Caspian into the woods by his hair before he would believe Edmund wanted him. And what exactly had been going on in the boy’s head when he told Drinian that ‘King Edmund and I can lie very snug here below’? Because the thoughts that had filled Edmund’s head were not of a kind to be shared with his sister and the ship’s captain.
The ship’s captain: there was a thing. Edmund, ever watchful, could not fail to notice Drinian’s attentiveness to his king. He had seen it too often in the people who had served Peter not to recognise it now, and he had been on the receiving end himself, though less often. It may not mean anything; there were many different kinds of devotion after all. But such devotion was not normally returned with such casual friendliness. Either Caspian was unaware of it, or he simply did not know what to do with it. Or… well, it was none of Edmund’s business either way.
He knew these were not the things he should be concerned with just at that moment. He should be worried about the journey, about where they were going, about what Aslan had brought them here to do. But he could not focus on those things with the sound of Caspian’s laughter filling his ears and he cursed himself for a heartsick fool. It had been fine when Caspian was in the past; when he could chalk it up to a wonderful night spent with an intriguing young man and then move on. But Caspian was no longer in the past and all Edmund could think of was what the future might hold.
He tensed as someone came to join him at the rail, standing not quite close enough to touch, facing out to sea. He knew without looking who it was, so he continued to stare at the horizon as though there were something fascinating about the unchanging line where blue met slightly darker blue.
“It is good to see you again.” Caspian’s voice was low, as though he was saying something the whole ship mightn’t hear.
“You too,” Edmund said. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Caspian turn towards him. His hand tensed on the rail.
“I didn’t think I would. See you again, I mean.”
“Neither did I,” Edmund said, huffing a laugh. “I thought you would be dead by now.”
“Sorry to disappoint you,” Caspian said, and Edmund was sure he heard a smile in his voice. He thought it might give him courage to actually turn his head and look at his companion. He did so and regretted it almost instantly. He had been wrong about Caspian learning to hide his emotions: Caspian’s eyes burned. Edmund turned away. A pretty sight they would look, gazing into each other’s eyes like idiots in full view of the crew.
“Edmund, I -” Caspian broke off with a frustrated sigh and shook his head. “I don’t know what to say. I just - I don‘t know what to say.”
“This is going to be an awkward voyage then, isn’t it?”
“I hope not.” Caspian’s tone once again made him turn, but this time Edmund could not look away. Caspian’s eyes were still deadly serious but there was a smile teasing at his lips. Edmund felt his skin tingle all over. Caspian took half a step forward. “I hope we can get to know one another better this time. We did not have the chance before. I had hoped you would at least be able to stay until after my coronation but - well, I will not question Aslan’s decision. I will just say that I have often wished he had made a different choice.” Caspian stopped abruptly, apparently realising how close they were standing, and cast an anxious glance towards the rest of the ship. He did not step away but instead turned and leaned against the rail. Edmund copied his posture and they stood side by side, watching the ship cut through the waves.
“I didn’t expect to be able to stay for years like we did the first time,” Edmund said after several minutes. “I didn’t even want to. I don’t think I could go through that again. But I expected more time.” He saw Caspian raise his hand and then stop and lower it back to the rail.
“If you had known you had no more time,” Caspian said haltingly, and so quietly Edmund had to lean in to hear him, “would you have done anything differently?”
Would he? Edmund wasn’t sure. He had asked himself the same question more than once and had never been able to come to a satisfactory answer. He had thought about their desperation, their frantic need for release, and wished they could have enjoyed something slower and more meaningful. But he had also thought about lying on the soft grass, talking and kissing and laughing; about Caspian’s hands on him and Caspian’s mouth around him and about lying back and seeing stars; about sneaking back to the party as the sun came up, tip-toeing around sleeping bodies and giggling like schoolgirls. He risked a sideways glance at Caspian who, from the way he was studying them, apparently found his own hands fascinating. Edmund thought about standing beside the dying embers of a fire, hurriedly pulling bits of leaf and twig out of Caspian’s hair and he smiled. “I told you then I didn’t regret it. I still don’t.”
“I don't either,” Caspian said. “Actually, no. That is not true.” Edmund looked up, apprehension creeping through him. He pushed it away. “If I had known that we would not be alone again, I think, I hope, I would have taken the opportunity to tell you that you are one of the most remarkable people I have ever met and I don’t think I will ever really be able to understand you or truly know you but I would very much like to.” The words fell out in a rush; Edmund struggled to keep up with them. Caspian took a deep breath and carried on. “I probably shouldn’t be saying this at all, except it occurs to me that you are here now and you may not be here tomorrow. I doubt I will get a third chance.”
Edmund stared at the churning water beneath them and tried to get a grip on his thoughts. He wished he could say something similar in return; wished he could tell Caspian about how closely he had watched him, how his admiration had grown, how Caspian constantly surprised him. But the words would not come.
The swirl of his thoughts came to an abrupt halt as Caspian covered his hand with his own. He squeezed it briefly then turned and walked away, calling out to Drinian in response to a shout Edmund hadn’t even heard. Edmund remained at the rail, staring out at the water. Fear and hope pulled at him in equal measure and he smiled to himself. It was going to be an interesting voyage.
Fandom: The Chronicles of Narnia
Characters/Pairing: Edmund/Caspian
Disclaimer: CS Lewis has been dead for some time. If he were posting this stuff on the internet that would be weird, wouldn't it? Narnia is now owned by his estate, Walden Media & Disney. Not me.
Summary: Edmund and Caspian are reunited on the Dawn Treader.
Rating: PG
Word count: Approx 1900.
Author's notes: Sequel to Privacy, though chronologically Storytellers, Proving Ground and Aftermath would fit between that fic and this. Thanks to bluelittlegirl for the beta.
Be careful what you wish for, Edmund’s mother had always said. He had had cause to reflect on that maxim many times over the years, but none of those times had been quite like this. He was thrilled to be in Narnia again and Lucy was nigh on ecstatic; her joy as they had looked round the small but perfectly formed ship was enough in itself to make him glad they had come. He could have done without Eustace being there, but that was really a minor irritation next to the enormous pleasure that simply being in Narnia brought.
And yet… the last time they had returned hundreds of years had passed and he had expected it to be the same this time. In the slow, dark hours of early morning he had often thought of Caspian, but he had believed him long dead and seeing him now was more than a little disconcerting. It had been hard leaving after so short a time and even harder living in England knowing that every day Caspian was dying, was perhaps already dead. He had mourned when he had finally accepted that Caspian couldn’t possibly be alive any longer. Then he had put him away in the part of himself that held Mr Tumnus and the Beavers and Peridan and all the others he had lost. He had thought that, perhaps, when they got back to Narnia, he would go to find Caspian’s tomb; to lay a wreath on it and say goodbye.
That plan did not seem necessary now, for there was Caspian only feet away across the deck. If Edmund were to step forward a few paces and reach out his hand, he would be able to touch him. Edmund had to laugh; Aslan certainly kept one on one’s toes. He supposed this was what you got for thinking you had it all figured out; get too complacent and Aslan would simply pull the rug out from under you.
He turned his back and leaned over the rail, looking out to sea. Whenever Caspian was within his line of sight he found himself watching him. He had thought he would never see him again, and there he was in front of him. But he had to be careful. He was aware of the eyes of the crew on him all the time, just as stunned to see Edmund, Lucy and Eustace as Edmund was to see Caspian; one of them would be bound to notice eventually that he couldn’t take his eyes off the king. And so he turned away, his eyes on the horizon and his mind on the patch of deck on the other side of the ship where Caspian stood.
Aside from the shock of being confronted with someone he had believed to be dead, something else was bothering him. In only the few hours they had been on board it had been brought home forcefully to Edmund that he really didn’t know Caspian at all. The few days and one night they had spent together had been enough to reveal that he was brave and impetuous and stubborn and charismatic, and his kiss could set your skin on fire, but not nearly enough to know him. His emotions were often written all over his face but he kept his thoughts hidden. In the last three years it seemed he had learned to hide his emotions too.
Edmund closed his eyes and breathed deeply, willing the sharp air to blow away memories of their arrival: Caspian’s arms around him in the water; a beaming Caspian leading them around the ship; ‘a merry shipmate you’ve brought us, brother’ whispered in his ear, setting his nerves tingling. Did Caspian know the effect that simple action had on him? Edmund doubted it; he had practically had to drag Caspian into the woods by his hair before he would believe Edmund wanted him. And what exactly had been going on in the boy’s head when he told Drinian that ‘King Edmund and I can lie very snug here below’? Because the thoughts that had filled Edmund’s head were not of a kind to be shared with his sister and the ship’s captain.
The ship’s captain: there was a thing. Edmund, ever watchful, could not fail to notice Drinian’s attentiveness to his king. He had seen it too often in the people who had served Peter not to recognise it now, and he had been on the receiving end himself, though less often. It may not mean anything; there were many different kinds of devotion after all. But such devotion was not normally returned with such casual friendliness. Either Caspian was unaware of it, or he simply did not know what to do with it. Or… well, it was none of Edmund’s business either way.
He knew these were not the things he should be concerned with just at that moment. He should be worried about the journey, about where they were going, about what Aslan had brought them here to do. But he could not focus on those things with the sound of Caspian’s laughter filling his ears and he cursed himself for a heartsick fool. It had been fine when Caspian was in the past; when he could chalk it up to a wonderful night spent with an intriguing young man and then move on. But Caspian was no longer in the past and all Edmund could think of was what the future might hold.
He tensed as someone came to join him at the rail, standing not quite close enough to touch, facing out to sea. He knew without looking who it was, so he continued to stare at the horizon as though there were something fascinating about the unchanging line where blue met slightly darker blue.
“It is good to see you again.” Caspian’s voice was low, as though he was saying something the whole ship mightn’t hear.
“You too,” Edmund said. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Caspian turn towards him. His hand tensed on the rail.
“I didn’t think I would. See you again, I mean.”
“Neither did I,” Edmund said, huffing a laugh. “I thought you would be dead by now.”
“Sorry to disappoint you,” Caspian said, and Edmund was sure he heard a smile in his voice. He thought it might give him courage to actually turn his head and look at his companion. He did so and regretted it almost instantly. He had been wrong about Caspian learning to hide his emotions: Caspian’s eyes burned. Edmund turned away. A pretty sight they would look, gazing into each other’s eyes like idiots in full view of the crew.
“Edmund, I -” Caspian broke off with a frustrated sigh and shook his head. “I don’t know what to say. I just - I don‘t know what to say.”
“This is going to be an awkward voyage then, isn’t it?”
“I hope not.” Caspian’s tone once again made him turn, but this time Edmund could not look away. Caspian’s eyes were still deadly serious but there was a smile teasing at his lips. Edmund felt his skin tingle all over. Caspian took half a step forward. “I hope we can get to know one another better this time. We did not have the chance before. I had hoped you would at least be able to stay until after my coronation but - well, I will not question Aslan’s decision. I will just say that I have often wished he had made a different choice.” Caspian stopped abruptly, apparently realising how close they were standing, and cast an anxious glance towards the rest of the ship. He did not step away but instead turned and leaned against the rail. Edmund copied his posture and they stood side by side, watching the ship cut through the waves.
“I didn’t expect to be able to stay for years like we did the first time,” Edmund said after several minutes. “I didn’t even want to. I don’t think I could go through that again. But I expected more time.” He saw Caspian raise his hand and then stop and lower it back to the rail.
“If you had known you had no more time,” Caspian said haltingly, and so quietly Edmund had to lean in to hear him, “would you have done anything differently?”
Would he? Edmund wasn’t sure. He had asked himself the same question more than once and had never been able to come to a satisfactory answer. He had thought about their desperation, their frantic need for release, and wished they could have enjoyed something slower and more meaningful. But he had also thought about lying on the soft grass, talking and kissing and laughing; about Caspian’s hands on him and Caspian’s mouth around him and about lying back and seeing stars; about sneaking back to the party as the sun came up, tip-toeing around sleeping bodies and giggling like schoolgirls. He risked a sideways glance at Caspian who, from the way he was studying them, apparently found his own hands fascinating. Edmund thought about standing beside the dying embers of a fire, hurriedly pulling bits of leaf and twig out of Caspian’s hair and he smiled. “I told you then I didn’t regret it. I still don’t.”
“I don't either,” Caspian said. “Actually, no. That is not true.” Edmund looked up, apprehension creeping through him. He pushed it away. “If I had known that we would not be alone again, I think, I hope, I would have taken the opportunity to tell you that you are one of the most remarkable people I have ever met and I don’t think I will ever really be able to understand you or truly know you but I would very much like to.” The words fell out in a rush; Edmund struggled to keep up with them. Caspian took a deep breath and carried on. “I probably shouldn’t be saying this at all, except it occurs to me that you are here now and you may not be here tomorrow. I doubt I will get a third chance.”
Edmund stared at the churning water beneath them and tried to get a grip on his thoughts. He wished he could say something similar in return; wished he could tell Caspian about how closely he had watched him, how his admiration had grown, how Caspian constantly surprised him. But the words would not come.
The swirl of his thoughts came to an abrupt halt as Caspian covered his hand with his own. He squeezed it briefly then turned and walked away, calling out to Drinian in response to a shout Edmund hadn’t even heard. Edmund remained at the rail, staring out at the water. Fear and hope pulled at him in equal measure and he smiled to himself. It was going to be an interesting voyage.