Chapter Text
After the battle for Aslan's Howe, word spread quickly of their victory. Birds upon feathered wings brought news to all the far reaching corners of Narnia, and numerous creatures of all sorts made the journey up the Great River to the castle to join in the celebrations. All told, they lasted at least a week, and Edmund had been dragged out for more than one raucous evening.
Still, even in moments so full of hope, tensions continued to simmer below the surface. Telmarines felt displaced and distrustful, and were willing to show it. Narnians views varied more, but few were especially charitable towards the Telmarines either, in spite of their newfound King being one himself.
It worried Edmund.
He spoke of it often to Lucy, who reminded him to have faith in Aslan's plans. Their skepticism seemed natural enough to him, though— Caspian would need to prove himself able to rule fairly before they gave him their trust, even now.
With the tensions swelling more obviously after the official coronation, the Pevensies agreed to stay and help Caspian on his way to being a proper king. Most Telmarines trusted his fairness already, but Narnians were more skeptical. Having the Kings and Queens of Old might help his image.
His siblings didn't seem as aware of that as he was. Peter in particular had conspicuous arguments on strategy with Caspian on countless occasions while walking through crowded streets. Well-intentioned, but it didn't bolster confidence in Caspian's rule among many of the Narnian folk. The centaurs trusted him, but they were much less suspicious than some.
As they neared the sixth month after his coronation, spats became tavern brawls which became full blown sword duels on several occasions. Edmund conceded that maybe this problem was Caspian's alone to fix.
Nearly six months after that, Aslan sent a messenger requesting to speak with him privately.
-
“You called for me?” He asked, gaze fixed on the lion.
Aslan's huge head swung around to look at him, warmth in his gaze. “Edmund. Thank you for coming.”
“Is something wrong? You seem more serious than usual.”
The lion seemed to smile at that. “It is time for your sisters and brothers to leave Narnia, my son. You have done much to ensure peace here in the coming years.”
The idea came as a shock, like being dunked into icy cold water. They were being told to go home— or rather, his siblings were. Aslan didn't actually say anything about him.
“And what about me and Lucy? We want to stay here!”
He felt like a scolded child, even at 17 years old. Edmund didn't want to go home, he wanted to stay and help unite Narnia. The idea of returning to Britain wasn't incredibly appealing after spending so much time here.
“Lucy will return when Narnia has need of her,” Aslan reassured gently. “Your talents are still yet needed, if you are willing to grant them. Do not answer me now, son of Adam. You may not see your siblings for many years if you stay— return with your answer when you are ready.”
Edmund furrowed his brows thoughtfully. Time passed differently here in Narnia, it was true, and without his siblings he would be essentially without an inner counsel of his own— aside from Caspian who they'd met near weeks ago. The idea of more time in Narnia was exactly what he'd wanted, but he hadn't pictured it without Peter, Susan, and Lucy beside him.
“Of course. I'll bring my answer within the week,” he promised. After turning on his heel, Edmund glanced back at the lion. “If I can ask— why me and not the others?”
Aslan's golden eyes blinked slowly before he spoke, as if choosing his words carefully. “I will tell you more when you bring your answer to me, young one.”
Edmund spared a smile at that, reassured.
With wind in his sails, he departed to speak with friends on the idea. Caspian and Reepicheep predictably wanted him to stay, while Susan cajoled him to remember they had lives in Britain too.
The trouble with that was, Edmund felt useful here. He could do far more good here than in a war-ragged England— besides, it's not like he couldn't ever return if he chose to in the future. Time was different here, he reasoned. Faster. Hopefully.
In the end, he reached his decision rather quickly, though Susan and Peter tried to change his mind. Edmund would stay and help in whatever way Aslan wished while his siblings would depart to their world again. Hopefully he would see them again before he was all old and shriveled up like a prune, he thought, but didn't say so out loud.
Lucy must have thought it too, though, because she embraced him more often in the days after they discussed it. Aslan had reassured him she would return, but when was hardly guaranteed.
Peter sought him out more frequently for sword fighting practices— to keep up his form, he'd said, but there was melancholy in his face when he thought Edmund wasn't watching. Susan spent more time at his side too, a unique sadness in her gaze.
His siblings entrusted him with their numerous prized possessions, most freely, and Lucy's with the promise he'd return it when she came back again and he wouldn't lose it like his torch. From Peter, a number of beautifully made tunics and a leather belt with a lion clasp. From Susan, nearly everything, including her bow and arrows. And from Lucy, her dagger, healing cordial, and several sets of prized clothes she didn't want to go missing if she came back sooner than expected.
It was bittersweet.
Edmund wouldn't be seeing them all for a very long time now, if ever within his lifespan, but he would always have the things they gave him. Bizarrely he felt at peace with it, though his throat closed with longing for them all to stay alongside him. Their places weren't meant to be here— not yet.
With that handled, he returned to Aslan to give his answer.
“I'll do it,” he said from the doorway, “I'll stay.”
Aslan shook himself off and padded towards him. “Know I will not ask this of you without will freely given,” he reminded, tone warm. “There is no shame in returning to your world. You would learn to follow my will there too, in your way.”
Edmund jutted his chin out stubbornly. “I want to stay and help. You've seen the way people argue amongst themselves—Telmarines and Narnians alike. It can't go on like this.”
“You're right, it cannot,” the lion dipped his head in agreement. Edmund brushed a hand against his fur to hide his anxiety.
“That is why I asked for you to stay, instead of your sister,” Aslan admitted. “You know something of redemption she does not. To unite the old Narnia and the new, it will need to be you.”
He raised his brows as if to say go on.
“What I ask of you, my son, is to aid Caspian in uniting them. Become his husband; join him in bringing peace to all of Narnia.”
Edmund stared at him, mouth open in shock.
He knew Narnian creatures had different, more flexible views of that sort of thing, but that didn't mean he did. His lifetime before in Narnia never included a lover of any sort, let alone a man.
“You want me to do what?”
Aslan merely smiled, seeming unsurprised by his reaction. “You have lived many years here before, dear one. I trust you remember Narnian traditions are not the same as where you come from.”
“Well, yeah, but neither of us are really Narnian! Besides, Caspian is a man. I'm not—” he drew in a frustrated, confused breath, “—not a pansy! He's not either. I know he likes my sister.”
Aslan let him speak until he lost momentum, then interjected gently. “You are both Narnian in the ways it matters. Besides,” the lion seemed to smile, “I'm not asking you to fall in love with him, but to spend your lives working together.”
When it was put that way, his outburst seemed histrionic. He was Narnian in many ways after living there so long. The idea rankled him still. To marry a man for appearances sake seemed counterproductive, even if the culture in Narnia was different than England. Or all of Earth that he knew about, really.
“Caspian already wants Susan, why not have her stay instead?”
“Edmund,” Aslan chided. “Trust that I would have asked for her help if I thought her a better option than yourself.”
He winced. “Sorry. Have you spoken to King Caspian about the idea already?” Edmund continued, sounding about as confused by the turn of events as he felt.
Caspian wasn't interested in men, was he? How would a marriage even work if both of them weren't attracted to each other? Then again, plenty of people in their world seemed to make that sort of thing work, so maybe it wouldn't be so hard.
“Some time ago. He's agreed to the marriage once your eighteenth birthday has passed— if you choose to stay.”
Edmund nodded, a small weight lifting from him. Caspian already knew and hadn't treated him any differently— maybe things wouldn't change so much after all.
“Alright,” he said, a disbelieving laugh passing his lips. “I'm marrying the King of Narnia, then. I should probably talk with him about that.”
“Confide in those closest to you first, dear one. Find him when you are ready.”
Aslan was right— his mind was running a mile a minute still. He needed to talk to Lucy.
Edmund managed a nod and threw a hasty thanks over his shoulder. He quickened his pace as much as he dared, making his way down several winding streets until he reached the gardens. When Lucy wasn't at the castle, she usually was here, and Edmund often got sent to retrieve her when she lost track of time.
“Lucy!” He called, raising one hand in greeting as he crossed the grass. He was relieved to find he hadn't gone all that way for nothing, as she was speaking to a small bird in the bushes.
“Edmund! What did Aslan say?” She brightened, abandoning her spot in the grass to stand beside him.
Edmund hesitated, walking further into the gardens away from any prying ears. “I'll be staying,” he started. “Aslan wants me to marry Caspian to build trust in him with the Narnian people.”
His sister stared up at him, eyes seeming to see more than he'd like. She was always good at that.
“It's just politics,” he added quickly. “Some of the Narnians are suspicious of him because he's a Telmarine. Marrying a King of Old helps unite the two sides.”
Her thin brows raised, curious. “There are easier ways than that to create trust, aren't there? He must've chosen marriage for a reason.”
Edmund settled down within the grass, sighing. Maybe Aslan saw something they couldn't, or knew something he wasn't saying. She was right— there were easier ways to bolster trust than marriage.
“Probably,” he conceded. “I'm just not seeing what it could be. We've been gone long enough I don't know all the politics anymore, and Narnia is smaller than it used to be. I'm sure he'll be a great king, he doesn't need my help to do it.”
Lucy's face lit up in a smile. “That's it, Ed! Maybe Aslan knows he'll need your help ruling somehow. Like how he told you to join Susan when she visited that suitor, remember?”
“So, what, Aslan thinks he needs me as a good luck charm?” He scoffed, then softened his tone. “I don't think that's it.”
She hummed thoughtfully, hands absently fidgeting with the fine embroidery of her dress. “Well, it can't all be politics. Maybe you still have something to learn.”
“From being married?” He questioned, scrunching his nose. She might be right—Lucy's instincts when it came to Aslan were unparalleled—but he hardly wanted to admit that.
“Maybe Aslan wants you to learn about yourself,” she said finally, eying him. “Or admit something you already know.”
Edmund frowned in confusion. What was that supposed to mean?
“Stop speaking in riddles, Lu,” he replied exasperatedly. She was great, but… sometimes he didn't fully understand what she meant.
Her hazel eyes glared over at him and she sighed like he was the confusing one. “I'm just saying, Ed. Maybe marrying Caspian will be good for you. You two like each other plenty already— who's to say you won't fall in love?”
“Me!” Edmund blurted out, incredulous. “I'm saying we won't!”
Lucy giggled at him, amusement and fondness flitting across her face. He trusted her judgment, but falling in love with Caspian was impossible. He wasn't interested in men, full stop. No exceptions, not even for a king.
Her giggling finally petered out and her expression softened. Her hand reached out to hold his, her fingers small against his own. “I know, but things change. Maybe Aslan sees something there that you don't.”
Edmund sighed, shrugging his shoulders noncommittally in reply. Maybe Aslan did, but that doesn't mean Edmund understood or had to like it.
“Just keep an open mind. I'm sure there's a reason,” Lucy continued, sympathy written across the scrunch to her brow. “How are you feeling about it?”
He frowned. How did he feel about it, really? He hadn't given himself a lot of time to think about it since he agreed.
“I don't know,” Edmund replied. After several moments of silence he continued, “like I'm the second choice again, I guess.”
Lucy nodded, leaning her head on his shoulder. Her hand squeezed his tight in sympathy and he smiled, resting his cheek against her hair.
“You're not, you know. Aslan asked you for help, not Susan. He has to have a good reason.”
He squeezed her hand again. “I know, Lu. I'm just not seeing it right now.”
“You will, Ed. I promise— when I come back you'll have to tell me what it was.” Pulling away, she grinned at him and continued, “and maybe you'll fall in love before I get back!”
He sputtered indignantly at the idea, playfully shoving his sister away. Privately, the discussion had calmed some of his nerves and ignited entirely new ones. Lucy was a good listener and trusted friend, but she'd presented him with a mind boggling idea.
Could he fall in love with Caspian?
Judging by the uncomfortable lurch in his gut, he'd say no. Lucy was rarely wrong, though, which only made him more nervous. He resolved to cross that bridge if or when he ever reached it and tried very hard not to think about it.
-
Several days later, Caspian awaited his arrival in the courtyard outside. Like always, an easy smile spread across his face when he noticed Edmund's approach. He wore a mix of Narnian and Telmarine fashion that suited him well. His friendliness was familiar and grounding, considering the bizarre turn of events, though the two weren't especially close.
“King Caspian,” he started. Was his voice always cracking like that? He shouldn't be nervous anyway— it's just Caspian.
He shook his head, pulling Edmund into a one armed hug. “Don't you start calling me that too, Edmund. I get plenty of it from my advisors already, you know that.”
Edmund cleared his throat, “Right.” After stepping away he continued, “We should probably talk privately. My quarters alright?”
Caspian's expression sobered and he nodded. “If you need,” he allowed easily, already taking up a spot at Edmund's side as he walked. “I assume this isn't about the prospect of playing Catch The Hare against Reepicheep?”
He snorted, shaking his head as they ascended the stone staircase. “No, not that. I've no illusions about my skill level, don't worry.”
“Ah, I don't know. You're decent at chess, you could win eventually,” Caspian grinned beside him. It momentarily dispelled the knot of anxious discomfort in his belly until he remembered he would be married to him in under a year's time.
“Eventually,” he said in reply, hiding anxiety beneath sarcastic wit as he closed the door to his quarters behind them. His smothered emotions returned in full force with the sound of the latch.
“So,” Edmund started, voice going pitchy. “We're getting married.”
Caspian eyed him with an odd expression that he couldn't read. “How do you feel about the idea?”
He opened his mouth to reply, but shut it when he realized he wasn't sure how to describe it. Not disgust exactly, but he wasn't enthused either. Not like Susan would probably have been, he thought. Uncomfortable, maybe, but it failed to really encapsulate the full spectrum of how he felt about marrying Caspian in a gesture of political alliance.
“...Confused,” he finally settled on after a pause that was definitely too long. “It's not what I expected Aslan to say.”
Caspian, for his part, looked somewhat relieved. “It was… not what I expected, certainly, but I'm not opposed.” He paused, seeming to pick his words carefully before continuing, “You're a skilled diplomat and I consider you a friend, Edmund. There's no one better to help guide Narnia to peace.”
His belly twisted uncomfortably. Caspian seemed to be taking the oddity of the situation in stride much more easily than he was; perhaps the idea of a political marriage was less foreign to him than Edmund.
“Yeah,” he replied lamely, “thanks.”
An awkward pause, then he blurted out, “I don't feel that way about you. Romantic, I mean.”
Caspian eyed him, a hint of a smile on his lips. “You don't have to, you know. It's alright if you don't, but you'll need to act like you do.”
“In public, anyway,” Edmund muttered, taking in the curve of Caspian's jaw. He looked… fine. Not pretty like a girl, but he was alright.
Caspian laughed, brushing his shoulder against Edmund's. “Yes, in public. I wouldn't ask you to continue it privately unless you wish to.”
Edmund believed him— Caspian wasn't the sort to do that. In truth, Edmund expected Caspian would be a very attentive partner, if they were actually together.
“We should speak more about the ceremony arrangements with your advisors soon. I expect the marriage of King Caspian the Tenth and King Edmund the Just will bring quite a crowd,” he remarked with amusement. Quieter, he continued, “and not just people looking to catch a glimpse of a King of Old either.”
Caspian smiled, amusement flitting across his face. “You're right, now that I think on it. Tomorrow at midday, meet at the council's chambers?”
“Of course. I'll bring Reepicheep,” Edmund replied, watching Caspian fix his doublet in the mirror near his door.
“Tomorrow, then. I look forward to it.”
The door shut behind Caspian as he left and Edmund fell back onto his bed with a groan muffled into his hands. Looking forward to it was an extreme overstatement, but he wanted to stay and help stabilize Narnia. If Aslan thought the best way was for him to marry Caspian, who was he to refuse the idea?
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad— at least Caspian was concerned with his comfort. At least he was kind.