Plunging In
Title: Plunging In
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-13
Word count: Approx 4000.
Author's notes: Reunion just begged to be told from Caspian's perspective, so I obliged. Thanks to bluelittlegirl for the beta.
It wasn’t them. It could not possibly be. Aslan would surely not have brought them back so soon. And why would he bring them back now, when all was peace and prosperity? It could not be them. He was imagining things; they could hardly be seen at all at this distance and his mind was seeing what it wanted to see, as it had been doing periodically for the last three years.
He leaned further over the side, ignoring the shouts of the men as they ran to fetch ropes. A hand on his arm pulled him back. “Sire, be careful,” Drinian said. “We do not need you going overboard too.”
“Who is it?”
“I don’t know, but when I get my hands on them they’ll wish they’d stayed in the water.”
“You think they’re members of the crew then?”
“Who else would it be out here?” Drinian said, with a touch of impatience Caspian knew he wouldn’t have expressed if anyone had been able to hear them.
“I must help them,” Caspian said, rushing back to the rail. As he looked, two of the figures were pulled under.
“Sire, no. You cannot risk yourself like that. Rynelf will-” He did not get chance to finish. Caspian tore himself out of Drinian’s grasp and dived into the water.
The cold almost knocked the breath out of him but he pulled himself towards the three struggling figures. It was them. It was. He could see them now. Edmund and Lucy, and a third person whom Caspian did not recognise and who did not seem to appreciate Edmund’s assistance. Caspian reached them just as the ropes were thrown overboard and he slipped his arm around Lucy who was struggling a little on her own. He caught one of the ropes and began to fasten it around her, one eye on the knot he was tying and one on Edmund, who was concentrating on helping his sister and didn’t look up. When he did, he seemed not to react. Only someone watching him as closely as Caspian would have noticed his pause, or the way his eyes widened in shock.
The wait for Lucy to be pulled on board seemed interminable. The sea was relatively calm but it was freezing cold and Edmund was hampered further by the stranger who was hanging onto his arm and screaming. If Edmund had not been such a strong swimmer he would probably have been pulled under. As it was, Caspian had to restrain himself from pulling the boy off him. Lucy was quickly hauled up the side of the ship to safety and Edmund turned to the stranger and began to tie a rope around him. Caspian pulled the rope from his hand.
“No. You must go first,” he said. Edmund shook his head. “We must get you to safety. Your Majesty.” Edmund glared at him for invoking protocol in this way but Caspian was adamant. “I am prepared to be quite stubborn about this,” he said, warming to see Edmund smile slightly and relent.
“Very well. I suppose - do shut up, Eustace, you’re not going to drown - I suppose you’ll be following me up shortly, your Majesty,” Edmund said pointedly as Caspian looped the rope around him. There was a moment where Caspian had his arms around him, their faces barely an inch apart. Edmund felt small and fragile in his arms, something Caspian knew very well to be an illusion. Then the moment was gone and Caspian was tying the final knot and calling up to the men to pull his Majesty aboard.
As soon as Edmund was safely aboard Caspian turned to the stranger - Eustace, apparently - who was now blessedly quiet. Caspian assumed he had worn himself out and could only hope he would not recover quickly. He tied a rope around him and sent him up after Edmund before tying the final rope around himself. His fingers were numb by this point and he struggled with the knots. He got there in the end and called up to let the men know he was ready, his voice hoarse.
It was an unpleasant ride up the side of the ship, for all its brevity. Most of his injuries from the Galma tournament were healed, but some of the worst bruises still lingered, unpleasantly yellow and greenish, and his ribs were still tender. His body would not thank him for being banged against the side of the ship, or for its dip in the water.
“Sire, have you taken leave of your senses?” Drinian said as he pulled him over the rail and began to untie the rope.
Caspian grinned. “Very possibly.” Drinian opened his mouth to speak but then seemed to think better of it and closed it again. Caspian shrugged off the rope and turned to Edmund.
He had grown taller. He remembered holding him and being able to rest his chin on top of his head; now they were almost of a height. He wanted nothing more than to hold him again, to test if he was real, but he settled for clasping his shoulder instead. He was grinning like a fool, he knew, but there was nothing wrong with being pleased to see an old friend and he made no attempt to hide it. Edmund seemed pleased but guarded, better at this than he was. Or maybe not. Maybe he really just wasn’t as happy to see Caspian as Caspian was to see him. Caspian almost didn’t care. He greeted Lucy warmly and then turned to Eustace. He did not have high hopes but he was not going to be rude to the boy. Besides, maybe it was just shock that had made him behave the way he had in the water.
It was worse than he had feared. The last person he had seen cry like that had been his stable master’s five year old daughter. It was hard to imagine such a person being friends with the Pevensies; they could not possibly be with him out of choice. As Eustace stumbled across the deck and was sick over the side, he saw Edmund and Lucy exchange a look. Almost certainly not with him out of choice. He decided a change of subject was required and ordered spiced wine to be brought. Edmund and Lucy would probably need it. More to the point, he felt like he needed it. Eustace should probably have some too.
Eustace, it turned out, did not want spiced wine. At least, that was what Caspian gathered from the little he could understand of what Eustace was saying. He tried his best, but the boy seemed to be talking complete nonsense. Something about food for his nerves? “This is a merry shipmate you’ve brought us, Brother,” he whispered in Edmund’s ear. Was that a shiver he saw?
Of course it was. They were all soaking wet. They shouldn’t be standing around on the deck like this, no matter how much he enjoyed the way Edmund’s shirt clung to his shoulders. Before he could say anything, however, Reepicheep arrived to pay his respects. Eutace’s shriek of disgust at the sight of him could probably be heard back at Cair Paravel; Reepicheep’s response was predictable. Caspian sighed. Damn that mouse. He knew it wasn’t Reep’s fault, and Eustace’s behaviour was appalling, but why did he always have to make a bad situation worse? “What a fool I am to keep you all standing here in your wet things,” Caspian said, cutting off Reepicheep before he really got going. He ushered them towards the stern and showed Lucy into his cabin, inviting her to help herself to his clothing. Her obvious delight at being there made him smile. He retrieved some clothes for himself and returned to the deck. Here, he hesitated. Next door to his cabin was Drinian’s cabin, and there, he knew, Edmund was peeling off his wet clothes and putting on dry ones. It was tempting. It was also stupid. Shaking his head at himself, he went below-decks to find Drinian.
*****
Caspian showed them around the ship, beaming. She was not very large, and compared to the ships Edmund and Lucy must have been used to she was probably nothing at all, but Caspian was very proud of her. Eustace was as graceless as Caspian had come to expect, but Edmund and Lucy seemed happy with her, and theirs were the opinions that mattered to him.
They returned to the deck, Edmund drifting away from the rest of the group. Caspian could see him out of the corner of his eye, watching them but not joining them. Lucy and Drinian were deep in discussion about their various travels and how the lands around Narnia had changed since Lucy’s time. Caspian listened with half an ear, his attention mostly on Edmund. He was being foolish. Edmund had turned his back to them and was leaning over the rail, looking out to sea; he could not see Caspian watching him, but the rest of the ship could. It was not wise, and yet Caspian could not help himself. He had not expected to see him again, and he could not shake the feeling that the next time he turned around he would find him gone.
He had spent most of the day trying to catch a moment alone with Edmund, but there was no such moment to be caught. It was impossible to be alone on this ship. He glanced at Drinian and Lucy; they were absorbed in their conversation. Reepicheep was in his usual forward position, perched near the dragon’s head. Everyone else was about their work. This was probably about as much privacy as they were ever going to get.
He joined Edmund at the rail and for a time neither of them spoke. There was so much Caspian wanted to say - three years’ worth of unspoken thoughts and questions and ‘what ifs’ - that it all tangled up in his head and stalled on his tongue. He picked the simplest thing he could out of the confusing mass and said in an undertone, “It is good to see you again.” He had said it at least three times to him today, and to Lucy too, but this was not the same. This time he did not mean ‘It’s a pleasure to meet an old friend unexpectedly’; he meant ‘Seeing you is a joy I don’t know how to express’; he meant ‘Seeing you makes my head race and my heart pound and my stomach tie itself in knots and I would not want to feel any other way’.
“You too,” Edmund said. Caspian could not tell from his voice if Edmund meant the same thing he did. He turned to look at him, trying to read his face. Edmund continued to stare out to sea, his hand tight on the rail.
“I did not think I would. See you again, I mean,” Caspian persisted.
“Neither did I,” Edmund said, surprising Caspian by laughing. “I thought you would be dead by now.” It was a strange thought. Caspian had himself expected to be long gone by the time Edmund returned but he had not dwelt on it. It was not, after all, something he would be around to deal with.
“Sorry to disappoint you,” Caspian said with a smile, willing Edmund to look at him. To his surprise, it worked. Caspian studied him, looking for some sign of his thoughts in those cautious eyes. There was a flicker of something, and then Edmund turned away again. Caspian bit his lip. “Edmund, I-” I what? I missed you? Had he really? He had thought about him a lot. But can you miss something you never had? “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?” Edmund said. Caspian thought about the rest of the journey being spent like this - not-quite-comfortable silences and half-finished sentences - and almost laughed.
“I hope not,” he said, and this time when Edmund turned towards him he did not turn away again. He closed the gap between them. “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.” Edmund was so close Caspian would hardly have to move to kiss him. He glanced around the ship. Reckless. So reckless. He found he could not move away and instead turned and leaned against the rail. Edmund did the same and they stood side by side for a long time, their bodies brushing against each other with every movement of the ship. Caspian remembered the last time they had been so close for such a stretch of time. Of course, there had been considerably less fabric between them then.
“I didn’t expect to be able to stay for years like we did the first time,” Edmund said, startling Caspian from his thoughts. “I didn’t even want to. I don’t think I could go through that again. But I expected more time.” Caspian caught himself in the process of reaching out his hand to Edmund. That would have looked well, wouldn’t it? His inability to remember where they were was becoming a problem. He needed to be more discreet, but Edmund seemed to make that impossible.
“If you had known you had more time, would you have done anything differently?” There was a long silence as Edmund considered this. So long, in fact, that Caspian began to worry he was trying to think of a polite way of saying, ‘Yes, I would have found someone more appropriate to have sex with and then this reunion wouldn‘t be so difficult'.
“I told you then I didn’t regret it,” Edmund said at last. “I still don’t.”
It was not quite what Caspian had asked but he was so relieved he did not mind. “I don’t either. Actually, no. That is not true,” he said. Edmund turned to look at him in surprise. Caspian took his courage in his hands and ploughed ahead. “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.” There, it was said. Edmund could do with it what he would. Caspian took a deep breath. “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.”
The silence that followed this was even longer and more horrible than the previous silence. Edmund had returned to staring down into the water and made no attempt to move or speak. Caspian’s heart sank. He had known Edmund had a definite line that ought not to be crossed; he had just had no idea where it was. It seemed he had found it. And run clean over it. He bit his lip and waited for Edmund to speak. He waited a long time.
He was saved by Drinian calling to him. On impulse he took hold of Edmund’s hand and squeezed it once, not caring who saw. It was a gesture that could mean anything. Then he turned and walked across the deck to Drinian, a smile on his face as though nothing at all was wrong. For what could possibly be wrong on such a day as this?
*****
Supper was a rather more crowded affair than usual. Often it was just Caspian and Drinian; sometimes Reepicheep would join them. There was not space in the Captain’s cabin to comfortably fit more than that. But Edmund and Lucy cheerfully squeezed themselves in and the bumping of elbows and nudging of shoulders was all part of the fun. For everyone except Caspian, at least. His body, so recently recovered from the tournament, ached all over from his efforts in the water and every nudge felt like a blow. Eustace was still sulking in his bunk, for which Caspian was grateful. He was not in a mood to keep his temper with him.
The setting sun streamed in through the windows, glinting off the goblets and setting the whole cabin aglow. The company was lively and so was the conversation, and Caspian soon found his mood improving. He may have said too much to Edmund, but he had meant it and it might have been his only chance. It had been a risk worth taking and if it had not prompted the response he had hoped for, he had still needed to say it. He joined in a spirited debate about the best technique for disarming a larger opponent, a subject on which Reepicheep had much to say, and had almost forgotten anything was bothering him when he glanced up to find Edmund watching him with a frown. He held his gaze for a moment or two and then looked away. Caspian returned his attention to the conversation but he had lost his momentum and could no longer concentrate. He was aware of Lucy looking between the two of them with a puzzled expression. Drinian, too, seemed to have noticed something was amiss.
There was a brief whispered argument between Lucy and Edmund which everyone pretended not to hear, after which she excused herself to check on Eustace and take him some food. Caspian thought this a complete waste of time but refrained from saying so; Edmund had no such restraint.
“Sit down, Lu,” he ordered. And it was an order. Caspian did not know how anyone could resist such a tone, but clearly Lucy was made of sterner stuff than he.
“I will not. What do you want me to do, let him starve?”
“Yes, if that’s what the little blighter wants. And good riddance.” Caspian could not help the snigger that escaped him at this. He began to apologise (after all, whatever he thought of Eustace, he was still their cousin) but Lucy just smiled and shook her head at him before leaving. He could not bring himself to look at Edmund, whom he knew to be smirking. He focused on his meal and continued to avoid Edmund's eye.
Supper was coming to an end when Lucy returned. The plates had all been cleared and they were enjoying the last of the wine as the sun finally sank over the horizon and the lanterns began to be lit. They all stood as she entered and it seemed as good a time as any to bring the meal to its conclusion. Lucy stood to one side to let Drinian and Reepicheep pass, insisting they precede her from the cabin despite their objections, and blocking Caspian’s path to the door. Then, much to Caspian’s surprise, she left and shut the door behind her. He reached for the handle.
“Wait. Just a minute.” Caspian turned to see Edmund watching him across the table. He had seen him look like that once before: as he’d murmured ‘What do you want?’ in the firelight. Just before he kissed him. “I could kill her but I suppose I should be grateful,” Edmund said. “I wanted to apologise. I’ve made a mess of things. I should have said something. Earlier, I mean. But you took me so off-guard I didn’t know what to say.” He glanced at the door. “I still don’t know what to say.”
“I don’t understand,” Caspian said, very aware of the door at his back and the fact that Drinian could walk through it at any moment. Whatever Edmund had to say, he wished he would say it quickly before it was too late. He bit his lip and tried not to hope.
“I’m not good at this, you know. I’ve never had to do it before. It’s always been one night and then goodbye. I couldn’t risk anything becoming serious, I had to be so careful. I never had to deal with what happened afterwards. Nothing ever happened afterwards. This is all new. I’ve never really even talked about it.” He sounded surprised. “You’re the first person I’ve ever discussed this with.”
Caspian smiled. “It is new to me too. And I’ve also never- this is not the sort of thing I talk about with Doctor Cornelius.”
Edmund smirked and made his way around the table. “I shouldn’t imagine it would be.” He stopped in front of Caspian and cast another glance at the door.
“We do not have much time,” Caspian said.
“I know. And I still don’t know what to say.” A wicked glint flashing in dark eyes was the only warning Caspian had before Edmund pushed him against the door and kissed him hard. Pain flared through him at the impact, his ribs burning; Caspian could not care less. He wrapped his arms around Edmund’s waist and pulled him forward, crushing their bodies together. A voice in Caspian’s head shouted ‘Stupid. Reckless. Foolish.’ He ignored it for a second longer so he could thread his hands through Edmund’s hair and pull his head back, sweeping his tongue across Edmund's own and biting his lip. Edmund’s hand tightened on the back of his neck for a moment and then they tore apart, panting. Caspian leaned his forehead against Edmund’s.
“It’s alright,” he said, struggling for breath. “You do not have to say anything.”
Edmund nodded and swallowed hard. His breathing was heavy and his cheeks were flushed. “Actions speak louder than words, I suppose,” he said with a shadow of his usual smirk, and took a step back. Caspian nodded and tried to smooth out the mess he had made of Edmund’s hair. Fortunately, it had not been very tidy to begin with.
“We really cannot stay in here,” Caspian said, stealing another quick kiss and then turning towards the door before his impulses got the better of him again. He ran a hand through his hair, pulled the door open and strode out, Edmund just behind him. Caspian was grateful for the shadows cast by the lanterns; it was unlikely either of them could have hidden his dishevelled state in the full light of day. But the evening was forgiving and they made their way up to the poop deck without causing a scandal. They joined Lucy there, and she smiled and asked them if everything was alright in a way that made Caspian wonder exactly what she knew. What had Edmund told her? Had he told her anything at all? Or could she just see straight through them? It was a worrying thought. It was not that Caspian did not trust her, there were few he would trust more, but if she could see then maybe others could see. They neeeded to be more careful.
The three of them celebrated Edmund and Lucy’s return to Narnia well into the night, singing old songs and telling old stories. Caspian could not remember being happier. He had wished once that he could simply lie in the firelight with Edmund and tell stories, and while the circumstances were not precisely as he would have wanted he could not complain. Lamplight and moonlight were as good as firelight, after all, and Lucy's company was certainly no hardship. Nor were the presence of the crew or the movement of the Dawn Treader as she cut through the waves. Even his aching ribs and shoulders served only to remind him of the night after the Battle of Beruna. If Caspian could have had the promise of being alone with Edmund at the end of the evening, it would have been perfect.
When they could no longer keep their eyes open the boys escorted Lucy to her cabin, wishing her goodnight before making their way to their own cabin. Caspian cursed the very existence of Eustace who awaited them there, very much in Caspian's way. Perhaps it was for the best; being alone in the cabin might give them the illusion of a privacy that did not really exist. He sighed and followed Edmund below, nodding to the crew and avoiding Drinian’s too-sharp eyes.
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-13
Word count: Approx 4000.
Author's notes: Reunion just begged to be told from Caspian's perspective, so I obliged. Thanks to bluelittlegirl for the beta.
It wasn’t them. It could not possibly be. Aslan would surely not have brought them back so soon. And why would he bring them back now, when all was peace and prosperity? It could not be them. He was imagining things; they could hardly be seen at all at this distance and his mind was seeing what it wanted to see, as it had been doing periodically for the last three years.
He leaned further over the side, ignoring the shouts of the men as they ran to fetch ropes. A hand on his arm pulled him back. “Sire, be careful,” Drinian said. “We do not need you going overboard too.”
“Who is it?”
“I don’t know, but when I get my hands on them they’ll wish they’d stayed in the water.”
“You think they’re members of the crew then?”
“Who else would it be out here?” Drinian said, with a touch of impatience Caspian knew he wouldn’t have expressed if anyone had been able to hear them.
“I must help them,” Caspian said, rushing back to the rail. As he looked, two of the figures were pulled under.
“Sire, no. You cannot risk yourself like that. Rynelf will-” He did not get chance to finish. Caspian tore himself out of Drinian’s grasp and dived into the water.
The cold almost knocked the breath out of him but he pulled himself towards the three struggling figures. It was them. It was. He could see them now. Edmund and Lucy, and a third person whom Caspian did not recognise and who did not seem to appreciate Edmund’s assistance. Caspian reached them just as the ropes were thrown overboard and he slipped his arm around Lucy who was struggling a little on her own. He caught one of the ropes and began to fasten it around her, one eye on the knot he was tying and one on Edmund, who was concentrating on helping his sister and didn’t look up. When he did, he seemed not to react. Only someone watching him as closely as Caspian would have noticed his pause, or the way his eyes widened in shock.
The wait for Lucy to be pulled on board seemed interminable. The sea was relatively calm but it was freezing cold and Edmund was hampered further by the stranger who was hanging onto his arm and screaming. If Edmund had not been such a strong swimmer he would probably have been pulled under. As it was, Caspian had to restrain himself from pulling the boy off him. Lucy was quickly hauled up the side of the ship to safety and Edmund turned to the stranger and began to tie a rope around him. Caspian pulled the rope from his hand.
“No. You must go first,” he said. Edmund shook his head. “We must get you to safety. Your Majesty.” Edmund glared at him for invoking protocol in this way but Caspian was adamant. “I am prepared to be quite stubborn about this,” he said, warming to see Edmund smile slightly and relent.
“Very well. I suppose - do shut up, Eustace, you’re not going to drown - I suppose you’ll be following me up shortly, your Majesty,” Edmund said pointedly as Caspian looped the rope around him. There was a moment where Caspian had his arms around him, their faces barely an inch apart. Edmund felt small and fragile in his arms, something Caspian knew very well to be an illusion. Then the moment was gone and Caspian was tying the final knot and calling up to the men to pull his Majesty aboard.
As soon as Edmund was safely aboard Caspian turned to the stranger - Eustace, apparently - who was now blessedly quiet. Caspian assumed he had worn himself out and could only hope he would not recover quickly. He tied a rope around him and sent him up after Edmund before tying the final rope around himself. His fingers were numb by this point and he struggled with the knots. He got there in the end and called up to let the men know he was ready, his voice hoarse.
It was an unpleasant ride up the side of the ship, for all its brevity. Most of his injuries from the Galma tournament were healed, but some of the worst bruises still lingered, unpleasantly yellow and greenish, and his ribs were still tender. His body would not thank him for being banged against the side of the ship, or for its dip in the water.
“Sire, have you taken leave of your senses?” Drinian said as he pulled him over the rail and began to untie the rope.
Caspian grinned. “Very possibly.” Drinian opened his mouth to speak but then seemed to think better of it and closed it again. Caspian shrugged off the rope and turned to Edmund.
He had grown taller. He remembered holding him and being able to rest his chin on top of his head; now they were almost of a height. He wanted nothing more than to hold him again, to test if he was real, but he settled for clasping his shoulder instead. He was grinning like a fool, he knew, but there was nothing wrong with being pleased to see an old friend and he made no attempt to hide it. Edmund seemed pleased but guarded, better at this than he was. Or maybe not. Maybe he really just wasn’t as happy to see Caspian as Caspian was to see him. Caspian almost didn’t care. He greeted Lucy warmly and then turned to Eustace. He did not have high hopes but he was not going to be rude to the boy. Besides, maybe it was just shock that had made him behave the way he had in the water.
It was worse than he had feared. The last person he had seen cry like that had been his stable master’s five year old daughter. It was hard to imagine such a person being friends with the Pevensies; they could not possibly be with him out of choice. As Eustace stumbled across the deck and was sick over the side, he saw Edmund and Lucy exchange a look. Almost certainly not with him out of choice. He decided a change of subject was required and ordered spiced wine to be brought. Edmund and Lucy would probably need it. More to the point, he felt like he needed it. Eustace should probably have some too.
Eustace, it turned out, did not want spiced wine. At least, that was what Caspian gathered from the little he could understand of what Eustace was saying. He tried his best, but the boy seemed to be talking complete nonsense. Something about food for his nerves? “This is a merry shipmate you’ve brought us, Brother,” he whispered in Edmund’s ear. Was that a shiver he saw?
Of course it was. They were all soaking wet. They shouldn’t be standing around on the deck like this, no matter how much he enjoyed the way Edmund’s shirt clung to his shoulders. Before he could say anything, however, Reepicheep arrived to pay his respects. Eutace’s shriek of disgust at the sight of him could probably be heard back at Cair Paravel; Reepicheep’s response was predictable. Caspian sighed. Damn that mouse. He knew it wasn’t Reep’s fault, and Eustace’s behaviour was appalling, but why did he always have to make a bad situation worse? “What a fool I am to keep you all standing here in your wet things,” Caspian said, cutting off Reepicheep before he really got going. He ushered them towards the stern and showed Lucy into his cabin, inviting her to help herself to his clothing. Her obvious delight at being there made him smile. He retrieved some clothes for himself and returned to the deck. Here, he hesitated. Next door to his cabin was Drinian’s cabin, and there, he knew, Edmund was peeling off his wet clothes and putting on dry ones. It was tempting. It was also stupid. Shaking his head at himself, he went below-decks to find Drinian.
*****
Caspian showed them around the ship, beaming. She was not very large, and compared to the ships Edmund and Lucy must have been used to she was probably nothing at all, but Caspian was very proud of her. Eustace was as graceless as Caspian had come to expect, but Edmund and Lucy seemed happy with her, and theirs were the opinions that mattered to him.
They returned to the deck, Edmund drifting away from the rest of the group. Caspian could see him out of the corner of his eye, watching them but not joining them. Lucy and Drinian were deep in discussion about their various travels and how the lands around Narnia had changed since Lucy’s time. Caspian listened with half an ear, his attention mostly on Edmund. He was being foolish. Edmund had turned his back to them and was leaning over the rail, looking out to sea; he could not see Caspian watching him, but the rest of the ship could. It was not wise, and yet Caspian could not help himself. He had not expected to see him again, and he could not shake the feeling that the next time he turned around he would find him gone.
He had spent most of the day trying to catch a moment alone with Edmund, but there was no such moment to be caught. It was impossible to be alone on this ship. He glanced at Drinian and Lucy; they were absorbed in their conversation. Reepicheep was in his usual forward position, perched near the dragon’s head. Everyone else was about their work. This was probably about as much privacy as they were ever going to get.
He joined Edmund at the rail and for a time neither of them spoke. There was so much Caspian wanted to say - three years’ worth of unspoken thoughts and questions and ‘what ifs’ - that it all tangled up in his head and stalled on his tongue. He picked the simplest thing he could out of the confusing mass and said in an undertone, “It is good to see you again.” He had said it at least three times to him today, and to Lucy too, but this was not the same. This time he did not mean ‘It’s a pleasure to meet an old friend unexpectedly’; he meant ‘Seeing you is a joy I don’t know how to express’; he meant ‘Seeing you makes my head race and my heart pound and my stomach tie itself in knots and I would not want to feel any other way’.
“You too,” Edmund said. Caspian could not tell from his voice if Edmund meant the same thing he did. He turned to look at him, trying to read his face. Edmund continued to stare out to sea, his hand tight on the rail.
“I did not think I would. See you again, I mean,” Caspian persisted.
“Neither did I,” Edmund said, surprising Caspian by laughing. “I thought you would be dead by now.” It was a strange thought. Caspian had himself expected to be long gone by the time Edmund returned but he had not dwelt on it. It was not, after all, something he would be around to deal with.
“Sorry to disappoint you,” Caspian said with a smile, willing Edmund to look at him. To his surprise, it worked. Caspian studied him, looking for some sign of his thoughts in those cautious eyes. There was a flicker of something, and then Edmund turned away again. Caspian bit his lip. “Edmund, I-” I what? I missed you? Had he really? He had thought about him a lot. But can you miss something you never had? “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?” Edmund said. Caspian thought about the rest of the journey being spent like this - not-quite-comfortable silences and half-finished sentences - and almost laughed.
“I hope not,” he said, and this time when Edmund turned towards him he did not turn away again. He closed the gap between them. “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.” Edmund was so close Caspian would hardly have to move to kiss him. He glanced around the ship. Reckless. So reckless. He found he could not move away and instead turned and leaned against the rail. Edmund did the same and they stood side by side for a long time, their bodies brushing against each other with every movement of the ship. Caspian remembered the last time they had been so close for such a stretch of time. Of course, there had been considerably less fabric between them then.
“I didn’t expect to be able to stay for years like we did the first time,” Edmund said, startling Caspian from his thoughts. “I didn’t even want to. I don’t think I could go through that again. But I expected more time.” Caspian caught himself in the process of reaching out his hand to Edmund. That would have looked well, wouldn’t it? His inability to remember where they were was becoming a problem. He needed to be more discreet, but Edmund seemed to make that impossible.
“If you had known you had more time, would you have done anything differently?” There was a long silence as Edmund considered this. So long, in fact, that Caspian began to worry he was trying to think of a polite way of saying, ‘Yes, I would have found someone more appropriate to have sex with and then this reunion wouldn‘t be so difficult'.
“I told you then I didn’t regret it,” Edmund said at last. “I still don’t.”
It was not quite what Caspian had asked but he was so relieved he did not mind. “I don’t either. Actually, no. That is not true,” he said. Edmund turned to look at him in surprise. Caspian took his courage in his hands and ploughed ahead. “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.” There, it was said. Edmund could do with it what he would. Caspian took a deep breath. “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.”
The silence that followed this was even longer and more horrible than the previous silence. Edmund had returned to staring down into the water and made no attempt to move or speak. Caspian’s heart sank. He had known Edmund had a definite line that ought not to be crossed; he had just had no idea where it was. It seemed he had found it. And run clean over it. He bit his lip and waited for Edmund to speak. He waited a long time.
He was saved by Drinian calling to him. On impulse he took hold of Edmund’s hand and squeezed it once, not caring who saw. It was a gesture that could mean anything. Then he turned and walked across the deck to Drinian, a smile on his face as though nothing at all was wrong. For what could possibly be wrong on such a day as this?
*****
Supper was a rather more crowded affair than usual. Often it was just Caspian and Drinian; sometimes Reepicheep would join them. There was not space in the Captain’s cabin to comfortably fit more than that. But Edmund and Lucy cheerfully squeezed themselves in and the bumping of elbows and nudging of shoulders was all part of the fun. For everyone except Caspian, at least. His body, so recently recovered from the tournament, ached all over from his efforts in the water and every nudge felt like a blow. Eustace was still sulking in his bunk, for which Caspian was grateful. He was not in a mood to keep his temper with him.
The setting sun streamed in through the windows, glinting off the goblets and setting the whole cabin aglow. The company was lively and so was the conversation, and Caspian soon found his mood improving. He may have said too much to Edmund, but he had meant it and it might have been his only chance. It had been a risk worth taking and if it had not prompted the response he had hoped for, he had still needed to say it. He joined in a spirited debate about the best technique for disarming a larger opponent, a subject on which Reepicheep had much to say, and had almost forgotten anything was bothering him when he glanced up to find Edmund watching him with a frown. He held his gaze for a moment or two and then looked away. Caspian returned his attention to the conversation but he had lost his momentum and could no longer concentrate. He was aware of Lucy looking between the two of them with a puzzled expression. Drinian, too, seemed to have noticed something was amiss.
There was a brief whispered argument between Lucy and Edmund which everyone pretended not to hear, after which she excused herself to check on Eustace and take him some food. Caspian thought this a complete waste of time but refrained from saying so; Edmund had no such restraint.
“Sit down, Lu,” he ordered. And it was an order. Caspian did not know how anyone could resist such a tone, but clearly Lucy was made of sterner stuff than he.
“I will not. What do you want me to do, let him starve?”
“Yes, if that’s what the little blighter wants. And good riddance.” Caspian could not help the snigger that escaped him at this. He began to apologise (after all, whatever he thought of Eustace, he was still their cousin) but Lucy just smiled and shook her head at him before leaving. He could not bring himself to look at Edmund, whom he knew to be smirking. He focused on his meal and continued to avoid Edmund's eye.
Supper was coming to an end when Lucy returned. The plates had all been cleared and they were enjoying the last of the wine as the sun finally sank over the horizon and the lanterns began to be lit. They all stood as she entered and it seemed as good a time as any to bring the meal to its conclusion. Lucy stood to one side to let Drinian and Reepicheep pass, insisting they precede her from the cabin despite their objections, and blocking Caspian’s path to the door. Then, much to Caspian’s surprise, she left and shut the door behind her. He reached for the handle.
“Wait. Just a minute.” Caspian turned to see Edmund watching him across the table. He had seen him look like that once before: as he’d murmured ‘What do you want?’ in the firelight. Just before he kissed him. “I could kill her but I suppose I should be grateful,” Edmund said. “I wanted to apologise. I’ve made a mess of things. I should have said something. Earlier, I mean. But you took me so off-guard I didn’t know what to say.” He glanced at the door. “I still don’t know what to say.”
“I don’t understand,” Caspian said, very aware of the door at his back and the fact that Drinian could walk through it at any moment. Whatever Edmund had to say, he wished he would say it quickly before it was too late. He bit his lip and tried not to hope.
“I’m not good at this, you know. I’ve never had to do it before. It’s always been one night and then goodbye. I couldn’t risk anything becoming serious, I had to be so careful. I never had to deal with what happened afterwards. Nothing ever happened afterwards. This is all new. I’ve never really even talked about it.” He sounded surprised. “You’re the first person I’ve ever discussed this with.”
Caspian smiled. “It is new to me too. And I’ve also never- this is not the sort of thing I talk about with Doctor Cornelius.”
Edmund smirked and made his way around the table. “I shouldn’t imagine it would be.” He stopped in front of Caspian and cast another glance at the door.
“We do not have much time,” Caspian said.
“I know. And I still don’t know what to say.” A wicked glint flashing in dark eyes was the only warning Caspian had before Edmund pushed him against the door and kissed him hard. Pain flared through him at the impact, his ribs burning; Caspian could not care less. He wrapped his arms around Edmund’s waist and pulled him forward, crushing their bodies together. A voice in Caspian’s head shouted ‘Stupid. Reckless. Foolish.’ He ignored it for a second longer so he could thread his hands through Edmund’s hair and pull his head back, sweeping his tongue across Edmund's own and biting his lip. Edmund’s hand tightened on the back of his neck for a moment and then they tore apart, panting. Caspian leaned his forehead against Edmund’s.
“It’s alright,” he said, struggling for breath. “You do not have to say anything.”
Edmund nodded and swallowed hard. His breathing was heavy and his cheeks were flushed. “Actions speak louder than words, I suppose,” he said with a shadow of his usual smirk, and took a step back. Caspian nodded and tried to smooth out the mess he had made of Edmund’s hair. Fortunately, it had not been very tidy to begin with.
“We really cannot stay in here,” Caspian said, stealing another quick kiss and then turning towards the door before his impulses got the better of him again. He ran a hand through his hair, pulled the door open and strode out, Edmund just behind him. Caspian was grateful for the shadows cast by the lanterns; it was unlikely either of them could have hidden his dishevelled state in the full light of day. But the evening was forgiving and they made their way up to the poop deck without causing a scandal. They joined Lucy there, and she smiled and asked them if everything was alright in a way that made Caspian wonder exactly what she knew. What had Edmund told her? Had he told her anything at all? Or could she just see straight through them? It was a worrying thought. It was not that Caspian did not trust her, there were few he would trust more, but if she could see then maybe others could see. They neeeded to be more careful.
The three of them celebrated Edmund and Lucy’s return to Narnia well into the night, singing old songs and telling old stories. Caspian could not remember being happier. He had wished once that he could simply lie in the firelight with Edmund and tell stories, and while the circumstances were not precisely as he would have wanted he could not complain. Lamplight and moonlight were as good as firelight, after all, and Lucy's company was certainly no hardship. Nor were the presence of the crew or the movement of the Dawn Treader as she cut through the waves. Even his aching ribs and shoulders served only to remind him of the night after the Battle of Beruna. If Caspian could have had the promise of being alone with Edmund at the end of the evening, it would have been perfect.
When they could no longer keep their eyes open the boys escorted Lucy to her cabin, wishing her goodnight before making their way to their own cabin. Caspian cursed the very existence of Eustace who awaited them there, very much in Caspian's way. Perhaps it was for the best; being alone in the cabin might give them the illusion of a privacy that did not really exist. He sighed and followed Edmund below, nodding to the crew and avoiding Drinian’s too-sharp eyes.