(no subject)
There were some days that Edmund loved this little, magical island a great deal, and others when he thought it absolutely miserable. Today was one of the latter, one of the horrible, dismal days where you're better off not getting out of bed at all because nothing good could be found outside your own space. The sun shone, the sky stood clear and the wind blew steady and strong over the white caps of the sea. A perfect day for sailing. But there would be no sailing, no adventures for some time. Not with Caspian gone.
Edmund had lost people before of course. He had lost his own sister, his own brother, in little more than the blink of an eye. One day they had been there and the next they were gone, taken in their sleep, and hadn't returned again. Holding tight to the belief that Aslan had brought them here, Aslan could take them back, Aslan knew what was best, Edmund soldiered on despite these great holes carved roughly into his heart from family and friends lost. Jon, Lyra, Jill, Jeyne, Rilian. Edmund knew what it was like to lose people. He'd been to war. He'd been away from home for great stretches of time. He had had friends cut down and friends wither away and never had a chance to say goodbye. But that didn't mean it got easier.
He had searched first, even knowing it was futile. Finding an empty hut when one comes to call unexpectedly could mean anything. But anyone who had lived on the island for any good stretch of time knew the signs, the feeling. Their animals, their things. A family of four, well-established after years on the island, left a great deal of stuff wherever they went, and none of it was there. Not even the ship.
The Dawn Treader meant more to Edmund than just a ship. It was more than adventure, too. It was hope. It was a tiny, bright speck of freedom, of defiance and it was gone. Edmund tried to reason with himself that it was best for Caspian to have his own ship, wherever it was he had gone to (especially so if he had gone to whatever place with his family), but selfishness outweighed that. Edmund wanted his friend, his best bloody friend and if he couldn't have that he wanted some way to show the island that it wasn't the boss of him. Preferably with purple sails. But he had neither and felt more like a helpless child than he had in years.
So he sat on the dock, at the very end of it, legs dangling over the side, all day long, letting the sun beat down on him and the wind coming off the sea spray him and the passing showers fall on him, because it was the only thing he could do that wasn't carrying on. Tomorrow he would carry on. But today he sat and whittled and held onto hope, blind and stupid hope, watching the horizon.
[[Reaction post to Caspian, Sansa, Eddara and Cornelius' disappearances, obviously. Perhaps not the best time to meet him, but that shouldn't stop you. Just be aware. Timed to any hour of the day you want, between dawn and dusk. All sorts of tags welcome.]]
Edmund had lost people before of course. He had lost his own sister, his own brother, in little more than the blink of an eye. One day they had been there and the next they were gone, taken in their sleep, and hadn't returned again. Holding tight to the belief that Aslan had brought them here, Aslan could take them back, Aslan knew what was best, Edmund soldiered on despite these great holes carved roughly into his heart from family and friends lost. Jon, Lyra, Jill, Jeyne, Rilian. Edmund knew what it was like to lose people. He'd been to war. He'd been away from home for great stretches of time. He had had friends cut down and friends wither away and never had a chance to say goodbye. But that didn't mean it got easier.
He had searched first, even knowing it was futile. Finding an empty hut when one comes to call unexpectedly could mean anything. But anyone who had lived on the island for any good stretch of time knew the signs, the feeling. Their animals, their things. A family of four, well-established after years on the island, left a great deal of stuff wherever they went, and none of it was there. Not even the ship.
The Dawn Treader meant more to Edmund than just a ship. It was more than adventure, too. It was hope. It was a tiny, bright speck of freedom, of defiance and it was gone. Edmund tried to reason with himself that it was best for Caspian to have his own ship, wherever it was he had gone to (especially so if he had gone to whatever place with his family), but selfishness outweighed that. Edmund wanted his friend, his best bloody friend and if he couldn't have that he wanted some way to show the island that it wasn't the boss of him. Preferably with purple sails. But he had neither and felt more like a helpless child than he had in years.
So he sat on the dock, at the very end of it, legs dangling over the side, all day long, letting the sun beat down on him and the wind coming off the sea spray him and the passing showers fall on him, because it was the only thing he could do that wasn't carrying on. Tomorrow he would carry on. But today he sat and whittled and held onto hope, blind and stupid hope, watching the horizon.
[[Reaction post to Caspian, Sansa, Eddara and Cornelius' disappearances, obviously. Perhaps not the best time to meet him, but that shouldn't stop you. Just be aware. Timed to any hour of the day you want, between dawn and dusk. All sorts of tags welcome.]]