safety pin • Edmund Pevensie #Wattys2019 [✔️]

fourteen

[fourteen: I promise]

The spring washed in like the tide, advancing confidently with warmth and white sunshine one day and retreating the next. On some days the new vibrant hues of the pansies and daffodils were bathed in tepid air that encouraged them gently, on others the wintry wind gusted fiercely - demanding a return to the bitterness of the months before. But like the tide, the spring would not be stopped, it pushed on right into May, banishing the chill to memory. By then the birds were busy with feeding the never ending appetites of chicks and the cats prowled the forest grounds in the hopes that one might fall. Sometimes the rain would fall gently, and other-times lash at the windows of the ward, but its iciness was quite gone. It was on one of these warm but wet mornings that Genevieve was sat in the garden, a book placed in her hand as she read the powerful tale of Romeo and Juliet for the fifth time. It was one of her favorites.

Genevieve was in love with their garden. As a girl she loved the daisy flowers for their daring simplicity, their tenacious spirit, growing where they weren't supposed to and yet bringing more beauty to the world.  She remembered from her father that in the springtime the daisies sprouted to the dismay of the gardeners, himself included, their perfect lawns looking more like the meadows they yearned to be. She never thought about the meaning of the daisy flower until she was a woman, supposedly too old to be making chains in the late afternoon sun. The daisy is about loyalty to love and commitment, and Genevieve was all about that. Her garden was for the cornflowers, the poppies, buttercups and, of course, the daisies. Grasslands are natural communities not monocultures. That's why lawns are such hard work, they're going against the natural way. 

Genevieve's face graced a smile as she took a daisy in her hand and softly pressed her nose against it, allowing the sweet aroma to fill her nostrils and she allowed a contempt sigh to escape her lips. Her smile shone like stars after dark, with no street lights to dim them. For in that moment time stopped to stare and admire her. Despite everything she's been going through, she still persisted to smile and be the one thing that brightened up even the saddest of day. Edmund watched from the back door of their cottage just watching her smile, a warm feeling erupting in his stomach. 

There's something about Genevieve that made him feel so young inside, but not in a childish way. She wakes the pure side of him, the best side, all the facets of himself that only require love to be healthy and whole. Should he have eternity to be with this girl he would sink into serenity, just content to be close. Their energy vibrates in such a unique way, each the perfect compliment of the other. They're not simply "in love," they're well and truly smitten. Any other could only be a poor reflection, no more substantial than a shadow of the real thing. Genevieve is what makes Edmund's heart strong. Her smile alone burnishes his soul into a beauty it could never have achieved on its own. Before they met me was one, now he was a half, yet somehow so much more than he ever was before.

"Ed you don't have to stare from afar you know," Genevieve stated, keeping her eyes trained on her book. "you could just simply come and sit with me."

"I just like to admire you love." Edmund stated as he walked out into the garden and took a seat on the grass next to his fiancee as he wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled his face into her neck, leaving soft kisses there. 

"Well you have the rest of our lives to admire me Ed." Genevieve whispered as she closed her book and relaxed into his embrace. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Good." He breathed simply as he inhaled the vanilla scent she seemed to have. "Because I'm never leaving you."

"Never?"

"Never. I will never leave you Genevieve." He whispered as he placed a gentle kiss to her cheek, watching as her face gained a rosy colour causing him to smirk. "I promise."

Unbeknownst to the two, a female blackbird hopped on the newly defrosted grass, her deep brown legs matching the soil below. She had feathers the colour of every tree, of every wisp of wood that promises life to come. There is something in the way she moves, a joy, as she relishes the season change. The air is cool, but she can feel the promise of warmth within. She hesitantly watches the two adults, her eyes wide as she watches them embrace each other with adoring smiles on their faces. The bird smiles at the two from the shadows before looking around the area, memorizing how it looked so that she could retell the directions to the cottage itself. The bird flapped its wings slightly as it retreated to the shadows, flying back to where it came from with a happy smile on her face. She had found the Just King and his Queen.

+++

Before the two knew, it was sunset. Edmund and Genevieve watched with unwavering gazes, as a fiery red orb of light slowly sank beneath the horizon, and threads of light lingered in the sky, mingling with the rolling clouds, dyeing the heavens first orange, then red, then dark blue, until all that was left of the sunset was a chalky mauve, and then that melted away in turn as stygian darkness took over the sky. Sequin-silver stars like the glowing embers of a dying fire winked down at them, illuminating the atramentous curtain of sky, and then suddenly the clouds parted, and they found myself looking at a lustrous, argent disc casting brilliant rays of moonlight onto the dark grounds. Genevieve sighed in contempt as she lent back in Edmund's arms, looking at the beautiful stars above as she watched the Narnian constellations and traced them in her mind. 

"Genevieve," Edmund whispered as he placed his arms around her waist without looking away from the stars in the sky. "Do you want to dance?"

"Dance?" Genevieve asked as she turned her head to look at her fiancee. "I thought you hated dancing."

"I guess I was just waiting for the correct partner." Edmund smiles as he stares at Genevieve and offers his hand to her. "May I have this dance?"

"You may, your majesty." Genevieve accepted his hand as he pulled her closer, illuminating in the moonlight.

The dancers moved like water transformed by music, flowing in graceful arcs, limbs in constant motion, painting a picture sound alone can never achieve. They brought a wordless interpretation of the beats, of the soft strings, in a way that if an audience was watching them then they could never understand no matter what language they speak. In that way their dance isn't simply movement, but the most honest form of communication they know. It was truly an art that exempted their love.

In the moment Genevieve leans forwards, her warm breath in Edmund's ear, then she hums the song they used to sing back in their teenage years. His lips, the ones that really didn't want to smile tonight, creep into a grin. She keeps on humming until he take's her in a bear hug and kisses her. He swears this girl is an expert on keeping his heart beating, without her he was sure it would simply stop.

Genevieve was completely in the moment as her mind sprung upon the simple meaning of love. How was she to put their love into mere words? An entire ocean of ink wouldn't be enough to describe them. They were a starburst of light amongst the darkening dusk. They were all the stars in the sky condensed into a single point. They were everything and nothing at the same time. Together, they were both a beautiful dream and a catastrophic nightmare. They were in love.

"What's the meaning of love?" She remembered Lucy asking her a few years ago and Genevieve was never able to give a straight answer. To her the meaning of love was suddenly so simple in her eyes. 

The meaning of love: Edmund Pevensie.