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Caspian had known his entire life that he likely wouldn’t get to choose his own spouse. He’d accepted it; he had hopes of loving his spouse, eventually, but he knew that he could settle for a comfortable friendship.
But with his uncle, who knew how likely that would be?
Telmar was a small kingdom with little political power. Caspian’s private expectations were to be married to a Calormene tarkheena, in order to strengthen trade with their neighbour.
He did not expect to be called before his uncle to be told that he’d be marrying a Narnian. One of their royal family, of course – a commoner or even a lord wouldn’t have been enough to sway Miraz.
Everyone knew Narnia had a surplus of kings and queens. Caspian didn’t know which of the four he’d be marrying. His uncle decided that was an extraneous detail, and that Caspian should be dispatched to Narnia straightaway.
None of his attaché would tell him, either.
The journey was long and arduous, but when he arrived in Narnia, he found a vibrant, beautiful, green country. The royal castle, Cair Paravel, was situated on a peninsula, and the salt air was like nothing Caspian had ever experienced before in his life.
All four kings and queens came out to greet him.
He expected… distance. Coldness. Formality. More of the same of what he was used to in Telmar.
What he received was a warm, informal welcome. Queen Lucy, the younger and shorter of the two queens, introduced herself first, and gave him a tight hug.
“I’m so glad to meet you! Isn’t it exciting that we shall be brother and sister soon?”
“Er, yes,” Caspian agreed, unsure of what to do with this kindness. “I apologise, my uncle didn’t tell me which of you…?”
King Edmund, the handsome one with dark hair and freckles, stepped forward. “You’ll be marrying me. We, er, thought it best, given the options.”
“Of course,” Caspian said, though he didn’t quite understand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, King Edmund.”
“Please, just call me Edmund. We’re to be married, aren’t we?”
He had some time to get to know his future husband – a week precisely. Edmund was generally affable, very thoughtful, and intelligent. He enjoyed chess just as much as he did fencing – and he was the most formidable fencer Caspian had ever had the pleasure to face.
He felt a bit guilty admitting that he found his future husband attractive, for some reason. It was nothing he should have felt guilty about, but all the same. He wondered if Edmund felt the same about him. He didn’t know how to ask.
Caspian quite liked the other Narnian royals as well.
Queen Lucy was cheerful and friendly, and he enjoyed walking through the orchards with her, barefoot and carefree.
Queen Susan was thoughtful and gentle; together, they discussed art and culture.
King Peter was warm, like the older brother Caspian had always wanted.
So, naturally, Caspian wondered what the catch was.
Every last person he interacted with in Narnia seemed wholly decent and kind. It was so unlike Telmar that he was second guessing himself.
Why had the Narnians agreed to this match? Why had Miraz?
He asked Peter one day – just Peter, not King Peter (“We’re going to be brothers, you know”). “Why this match?”
“Well,” Peter said. “For one, we needed to cement political alliances outside of Narnia and Archenland – Archenland is an old ally, dating back to the days of King Frank and Queen Helen, when it was first founded by one of their sons. Telmar is small, but holds influence with Calormen.”
Caspian nodded. “Okay. That makes sense.”
“Besides, Edmund’s gay, and I wasn’t about to arrange for him to marry some tarkheena.”
“He’s gay?”
“You think I’d marry him to you if he weren’t?”
Caspian cleared his throat. “I mean, some people do like both.”
“Some people do,” Peter agreed. “But not Edmund. So – a man. That narrowed things down. Your uncle assured us this wouldn’t be an issue for you.”
Of course he had. “It’s not,” Caspian lied, but it wasn’t much of a lie. The lie didn’t come from his sexuality, anyway. It wouldn’t have been an issue at all if it weren’t too good to be true. “I actually… I find Edmund attractive.”
Which was an understatement, to be sure. Watching the man fence was nearly enough to get Caspian worked up, and the way that he focused during a chess game made his heart race.
Peter smiled. “Good! I’m glad. I have it on good authority that he feels the same as you. It’s an awkward situation to be in, and I wish we didn’t have to, but… I don’t really see another choice, and Edmund thought it was better him than either of our sisters.”
Of course Edmund was that gallant. Caspian wasn’t even annoyed.
He was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Except the other shoe didn’t drop.
The Narnian kings and queens continued to treat Caspian like one of the family, even though he hadn’t done anything to earn it.
He had a feeling if he asked them why that was, they’d assure him that family wasn’t earned, and Caspian, as Edmund’s fiancé, was just days away from becoming an official part of the family.
That wasn’t to say that Narnia wasn’t an adjustment; for one thing, the reality of talking animals was shocking in itself. In Telmar, the idea of a talking animal had just been a legend, the stuff of fantasy.
The first time one of the Beavers talked to him, he about jumped out of his skin.
A week in, though, he was getting used to it. He didn’t blink twice when a talking Bear came to shepherd him down to the ceremony.
Caspian’s wedding to Edmund was held on the beach, on a beautiful sunny day. It seemed like more people – and more talking animals – came out to the wedding than had been at the castle – Caspian’s entire retinue showed up, even though all but his valet would be leaving to return to Telmar in a few days’ time.
He knew why they were there: to make sure he didn’t try to worm out of this before he had the chance.
He supposed some people might, but those people weren’t leaving Miraz’s castle for a castle full of people who had never been anything but kind and decent to him.
When he reached the altar, Edmund leaned in to whisper, “I’m nervous, too.”
Caspian smiled, and it wasn’t even forced. Edmund was a good man. Maybe this would be a good match.
When they kissed, Caspian thought he could make this whole situation work.
Caspian woke the next morning in Edmund’s bed – their bed, now – with Edmund splayed across his chest. He felt warm – and it wasn’t just from the heat of Edmund’s body. He thought back to what they’d done the night before, the way Edmund had kissed him and touched him. How much fun it had been.
Caspian had always thought he’d dread his entire wedding night, but everything with Edmund had been lovely. And fun. And left him wanting more.
Was it normal to want more?
Yes, there had been a few awkward moments – Caspian had never harboured any delusions about avoiding that much – but on the whole… he rather thought he’d like to do it again.
At least if Edmund wanted to.
He stroked Edmund’s hair absently. He was married. And he liked his spouse.
He knew that didn’t happen often.
Most people in arranged marriages simply had to cope with the hand they were dealt.
Edmund stirred. “Good morning.”
“Good morning.” He wondered if Edmund wanted him to stop touching him. He hoped not.
Edmund didn’t protest or even move. “I can’t believe I have a husband, can you?”
“No,” Caspian said honestly.
Edmund looked up at him then and smiled. “Well, we’ll have plenty of time to get used to it.” He reached up to kiss Caspian.
Caspian kissed him back; it was a lazy, early morning kiss, and he felt a thrill at the thought of more of these in the future.