Somebody Worth Coming Back To

Celebration

 Dew drops hanging on blades of grass and flower petals. Gentle rays of sun cutting through the morning mist. The gentle morning chatter of the birds. And in the middle of it all, Demetria sat in the meadow, weaving flower steams into a crown. She looked up as Edmund approached.

"You're up early." She muttered returning her gaze to the flower crown. She was going to give it to Lucy for Caspian's coronation and the parade that would come after. She would need to make another for Susan though. Edmund sat down next to her.

"Couldn't sleep." He said, picking up a daisy and spinning it between his fingers. "Not with you running through my mind." A blush spread across her cheeks.

"Sorry about that." She said softly.

"Demi, I don't know when I am leaving, if I'm leaving at all or if you can come with us," He said, placing a hand on her knee. "But I don't want to spend that time with you ignoring me."

"Well what am I to do if you do leave?" She asked, finishing the flower crown. "Just the idea is painful...how am I supposed to..." She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence. Edmund grabbed her hand.

"Remember what you said when we came back from the attack on Miraz's castle?" He asked when she looked up at him, "There is no use in dwelling on ifs. Can we please just make the most of our time?" Demetria chewed on her bottom lip then nodded. He smiled and took the flower crown out of her lap to place it on her head.

"I love it when you wear your hair loose." He whispered as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips. This time, Demetria didn't shy away from his touch but wrapped her arms around his neck. She could feel him smile against her lips and his arms wrap around her waist, pulling her close. As the mist cleared, it was like Demetria was seeing everything in a whole new light. She didn't have to fear her father's wrath anymore, she didn't have to worry about losing anybody to death and Edmund loved her just as much as she loved him. For the time being, everything was perfect.

#

That night, after Caspian's coronation and the parade, there was a ball. It was the first in about thirty years that was open to everybody and it was a wonderful turnout. Everybody had dressed their very best, the women's dresses in colored that ranged from black to bright pink. Demetria herself had dressed in a simple white dress with lace trim on the off shoulder sleeves and bottom of the skirt. She still wore the flower crown from that morning, her hair loosely curled. She had yet to set foot on the dance floor and didn't plan to until Caspian walked up.

"Remember how we would dance when we were kids?" He asked, and she nodded then smiled.

"And I was always stepping on your toes?" Demetria pointed out and he laughed,

"My toes are still bruised from that." He said then offered her his hand. "For old time's sake?"

"I thought you would want to dance with Susan." She said and he nodded to where Susan was dancing with her older brother. Demetria smiled then took Caspian's head.

"I would be honored, my king." He groaned as he led her out onto the floor.

"Don't you start with that." He said as the musicians started up a lively number. Caspian talked her through the steps of the dance until her memories took over and she was spinning, skipping and twirling in time to the music. The smile never left her face until Caspian spun her, releasing her hand. Demetria's feet got tangled up in her skirt and she fell only to be caught by Edmund.

"I think you just fell for me." He said smirking and she blushed as he righted her.

"And I think you deserve a dance." Caspian said and somehow Demetria got the feeling they had planned this. Especially when the music switched to a slow dance. Edmund offered her his hand and she took it shyly. He guided her other hand to rest on his bicep –he had more muscle then she thought- and placed his hand on her waist. Caspian had disappeared by then, and she got glimpses of him waltzing with Susan.

"You are beautiful you know that?" Edmund said and she blushed, smiling though, "I bet your laugh is just as beautiful." Her smile faded as she thought back, her feet moving of their own accord.

"I can't remember the last time I laughed." She said then smiled at him, "Perhaps that can be your quest. To make me laugh."

"The sound of your laughter in my ears will be the most priceless treasure of them all." He said and she blushed. He chuckled at the sight and spun her, her light skirt fanning out around her to show off her silver slippers. He brought her back in.

"Silver slippers?" He asked raising an eyebrow. "In my world we have a story about a servant girl who wore glass slippers to a ball."

"Do tell." Demetria begged.

"Well," He seemed to think about it. "Her name was Ella, and she was a servant girl to her stepmother and two evil stepsisters. They made her sleep by in attic, but some nights it was too cold, so she would sleep by the fire and become covered in ashes. To taunt her, her stepmother and stepsister would call her Cinderella. Well, one day the king threw a ball, inviting everyone. While Cinderella's stepmother and stepsisters went, they made her stay home. Then Cinderella's fairy godmother arrived, and gave the poor girl a beautiful dress and glass slippers, telling her to come home from the ball before the magic wore off at midnight. Cinderella went to the ball riding in a golden pumpkin coach and met the prince. The two fell in love but Cinderella didn't have a chance to tell the prince her name before midnight struck. She ran from the ball, losing one of her glass slippers on the step of the palace. A few days later, the price announced that whoever the slipper fit he would marry. He searched high and low through the kingdom until he found her where her stepmother had locked her away. The two got married, Cinderella's stepmother and sisters never bothered her again and they all lived happily ever after."

"That seems like it would be a fairytale." Demetria said, "I wouldn't think that would be something that interests you."

"I heard my mother tell the stories to Lucy." He admitted.

"Can you tell me more about your world?" She begged and he chuckled. They spent the night dancing, Edmund telling her about his world, about the trains, cars, planes, the food, the clothes, some of the traditions and the schools. And a little bit about the war, a subject he didn't dwell too long on. Demetria could tell he didn't want to speak of it and didn't press the matter. 

#

Demetria was nearly falling asleep by the time the party ended and Edmund escorted her out from the room. About halfway down the hall, she tripped over her own two feet, and when he caught her, he picked her up bridal style. She pressed close to him, her eyes fluttering closed as she rested her head against his shoulder. Edmund loved this feeling.

"Come on," He muttered kissing the top of her head, "Let's get you to bed." He looked around, "Which room is yours..." He trailed off. "Never mind." She had spent five years of her life in prison, it was unlikely she had a room. Thankfully, his had a sofa. He carried her in, kicking the door close behind him. Tucking her in, he pulled the flower crown from her head and placed it on the side table. She looked so peaceful. Moonlight shone through the window, making her honey-colored hair look gold and her fair skin look like roses on ivory. Every little detail about her was beautiful in his sight. From her pink lips to her long black eyelashes. Edmund smiled to himself and pressed a kiss against her temple.

"Goodnight Demi, I love you." Grabbing an extrapillow he collapsed on the sofa and drifted off to sleep, listening to thegentle sound of her breathing.