Romeo || Edmund Pevensie

Repetition

     "I love you." Aramis whispered, almost silently, as he hoped to reach the small voice inside of Edmund's head. "And I would tell you goodbye, but there are times better suited for then. They are for the times we cannot make it through."

  "You are very poetic." Edmund chuckled, lightly, placing his hands on the spirit's smooth face. "And I love you too."

  "Edmund." Caspian warned, lowly. He was getting rather impatient.

  "Coming!" He called back before placing another quick and tender kiss on Aramis' lips. "I'll see you soon."

The spirit waited a moment, pausing, before deciding that he too should go below deck. He could relieve Lucy of sitting with Gael. She must have had things to get on with, just like everyone else did. She was a busy Queen.

Truthfully, Aramis was glad of the Pevensie siblings. It was them who decided that he was not allowed to fight. They didn't want his injuries from his previous experience to become any worse. His face was already permanently damaged, and that was enough for them to call it quits.

He made the bed more comfortable for them to lean against. Some of the duvet and cushions rested there. It wasn't so bad, really, because it was quiet. Neither of them wanted to speak, but they didn't know anything about each other anyway. He and Gael had only talked once, perhaps twice. Now wasn't the time to talk about favourite colours, or books that they've read.

This was a solitary moment. It was Aramis' closest friends and the people he considered family. It was Gael's father, and her mother at risk. He could barely breathe when he thought about it, so he tried not to.

It seemed to take forever for the ship to sail into the storm, that time had stopped completely as they waited. He didn't even get to hear Caspian's big motivational speech, but that was alright. Perhaps it was for the best. Perhaps he would have made everything worse. He would have been sick if he'd had to face what they did. He wasn't strong like they were. But the simples joyous cries for Narnia were enough to give him hope. They weren't giving up yet.

     When there was a queasy feeling in the air, Aramis knew that they had gone into it. There was no way for them to return now. This was it.

     Although they could not see the mist, they knew it was there. It made the hairs on the back of their necks stand, so they could feel it near them. Room by room, it seeped through the cracks in the wood until it reached them. Everyone on deck must have already been affected.

     Aramis tried not to think about what the others were plagued with. There was far too many alternate thoughts coming to him, and if that happened, he would never be able to concentrate on himself. Because he had thoughts too. He had uncontrollable thoughts, which he supposed was the fault of the mist.

     His earliest thoughts of Narnia came to mind, the days when it was just him and Aslan. It was a lonely existence. There was nothing to talk about to anyone new because nothing happened. He didn't know that there could be a future then, or if he would ever be able to go home. It was ironic now, he supposed, because when Aslan said the words he would have to leave. This would not longer be the place he lived.

     Thousands of years his body had lived in Narnia after millions of years spent watching time pass. He couldn't go back to that. Not now. Not now he knew what it felt like to love someone, and what it felt like to spend a life with them. It wasn't fair.