There were very few times that Aramis and Edmund had truly been intimate with one another physically. They shared an emotional connect far behind anything mortal, and the depth they had managed to reach was incredible. However, when it came to the somatic aspect of their relationship, it severely lacked in quantity. The time where they understood their emotions fully were far between, and the distance between their homes made it difficult to truly communicate.
Aramis could not pretend that he did not have a deep and expansive knowledge of fondness, and all it might entail. Although, practicing it like a religion in itself was a task. This knowledge of affection should have made it easier. But when Edmund was around him, he seemed to forget it all.
Admittedly, he was weak, both physically and emotionally. He could not see the appeal to himself, but when Edmund showed interest it was hard to ignore. Even now that he was not the same being as he was when they first met, there was an interest.
His scarring was permanent. At first, it was almost impossible to know if it would stick or not: it seemed that Aslan's intention was to fade his beauty. The entire left side of his face was rigid and unappealing, and it was a gift that Edmund was not around for so long that he might come to detest the very sight of him. Though, he had returned now, and the King was sure to reject his affection.
Love had already been declared between the two boys, but there was always that sense of unknowing. When they were pushed together, without their own autonomy in the process, things always felt a little sticky. It was like they weren't ready yet, only partially baked.
Under Caspian's instructions, having spoken no more than fifty words between them, Aramis guided the freckled King below deck to where he had stayed during the voyage. He considered himself lucky, considering he did not sleep in the brig with the rest of the crew. They had decided that it would be unsafe, should something go amiss, and he became a target because of his being. Caspian was the only other with a room for himself, which then in turn, made the spirit feel wrongful and selfish.
Of course, at the first opportunity he would offer it up to Lucy. She of all people deserved the space to herself. It was more unsafe for her in the brig than for Aramis; he was certain of that.
The room was a beautiful one, though more understated than the others. It had less of the gold and rich finishings, otherwise the guilt inside of the spirit would be far too much for him to overcome on his own. Instead, it was panelled with a light wood, and painted white, to match his wardrobe. Even on a boat, he did not dress accordingly, and kept his robes under a strict observation.
Without the cascading fabric that disguised his figure so that he could have been a ghost in a tall tale, he did not feel like himself. He could barely imagine himself wearing anything else. The fear of rejection from his race was far beyond any other emotion he had ever experienced. To shun their tradition would be to force this rejection upon himself.
Despite his own clothing choices being fairly limited, he also housed many of the spare items. He had suspected that their might have been an ulterior motive to the fitting, but Aramis dared not question it at the time. And whilst it was a happy coincidence that the Pevensie's showed, even if it was only the half of them, it left the spirit with more thinking than he was willing to commit to.
"I am afraid the options are limited, my King." He said, quietly, opening the cabinet door to reveal the clothing. "Though, I am sure that I can tailor some of the remaining things to match your figure if they are ill-fitting."
He offered an uncomfortable grin, which was well-masked.
Edmund stepped forwards, and searched through the tunics, trousers, and waistcoats as if his life depended on it. Whilst trying not to pry, Aramis admired how his attention was so focused. He envied the ease. Nothing came to him that quickly- it was almost like breathing.
"Is there any sort of dress code?" Edmund peered over his shoulder, revealing one of his choices to be a lilac tainted tunic. It was supposed to be cream, but part of the fabric had stained. "Because I cannot cope with another pair of shorts."
"There is no code, my King." Aramis nodded, outstretching his arm, offering to take ahold of the clothes. They were passed over quickly. "And if there were, it would not apply to you."
"It's unfair."
"It would be your choice, to comply or not." He had already embarrassed himself, and now he was sure that he was making it worse. "Forgive me, my King."
"There's nothing to forgive." Edmund shook his head, chuckling lightly.
The spirit felt his heart drop into the very pits of his stomach. "Excuse me, my King?"
"You of all people should know that by now, Aramis, you never need apologise to me." The small smile which spread across his face was a work of art. Edmund was the prettiest of all the people. "Now, what do you think about this one?"
He held up a black waistcoat, and pressed it against his body. The spirit was trying his best to keep to his duty, but it had been so long since he had really seen Edmund. It wasn't fair. All he wanted was to take in the moment, and relish the fact that they were able to breathe the same air once again.
"It looks very good, my King." He smiled. "Very becoming."
"What about like this?"
Aramis watched as Edmund removed his shirt, and left the waistcoat to the side. Of course, he had seen the King without clothes before, but only in a professional capacity. Only when they had to clean the wounds battles caused him. This was a willing movement, and his opinion was being asked. This sort of thing didn't happen every day.
In fact, the human figure was not something that Aramis was an expert on. However, he did see the beauty in it, more than any other being could.
His eyes roamed across the pale and freckled skin before him. Edmund was so beautiful, and so soft, that Aramis couldn't believe that he was real. He didn't believe that there was a person so perfect who was willing to be so close to him.
"Aramis?"
"I do not know what you want me to comment upon, my King." He could not bare to look Edmund in the eyes, for fear of... well, for fear of everything. "Because I think the lilac shirt looks good for you, but if you want my honest thoughts, I think anything would compliment you."
"You're a romantic." Edmund said, taking one step closer to Aramis.
His breath halted. "I have no other intent of romance with anyone other than you."
"How can I refuse an offer like that?"
There was no warning, and it worried Aramis for a moment, but soon it all dissipated from his mind. It was as if something had been unlocked, and feeling Edmund's hands upon the clothes he wore was enough for him to melt. It was only a small amount of pressure, but it induced a heavenly state upon his mind.
Soon, their lips touched, and it felt like the real status of home had been returned. There was a warm feeling in the air. It was soothing, and soon, Aramis remembered what it was like to feel something other than sanitary and boring.
Step by step, the King changed into his new attire, drying off the sea water slowly. Though he didn't need any help at all, he fumbled the fastenings so that he could convince the spirit to come closer to him. It was odd to Aramis, how he never batted an eyelid at the state of him.
The freckled boy placed a hand upon his face, and let his thumb drag across the skin. It took in each and every curve, and ridge, and bump, memorising it, and building it into his muscle memory. The scarring over his eye and cheek was ugly.
Edmund leant forwards, and kissed the space beneath his eyelid, adjacent to his nose. His lips were tender, and soft. It was the best thing he had ever felt, and he wouldn't pretend otherwise.
"You look so elegant." The King mumbled as he straightened out his tunic. Then, he kissed upon his eyelids, and smiled.
"And you, regal."
It was not awkward, as they might have suspected, but rather more comfortable than they had ever been. They had met far too many times for there ever to be discomfort again.
After taking that time for themselves, Aramis lead the now dressed Edmund, into Caspian's navigation room. Of course, the reigning King was at the front of their pack, with the High King and Queen not too far behind. As he always did, Aramis stayed behind, only entering the room when the others had fully stepped through the doors.
This was one of the more posh looking rooms, Edmund noted it from the gold plated decorations. It was not hard to fall in love with the decor, and even the imaging of Aslan struck their hearts. But it was gorgeous, and it wasn't hard to enjoy.
When Lucy spotted the carving, she sighed. Her hands outstretched, running along the shape of his face. "Aslan."
However, Edmund was more focused upon the tapestry which ran along the wall. It depicted the story of when they first left Narnia- the day he was unable to really say his goodbyes. The memory of how sudden it was haunted him. He tried not to dwell on the past, because it would only leave him in more pain than it was worth.
"Look." Lucy drew their attention to a small plinth. "Susan's bow and arrows."
Whilst she was enthralled by the sight of her sisters weapons, Caspian caught on that, perhaps, she needed the attention she was granting the inanimate objects. "Lucy." Catching her gaze, he presented a small chest with her gifts inside.
"My healing cordial." She grinned. "And dagger." Her hands went to pick the weapon and attach it to her belt, but she hesitated. "Oh." Suddenly, she felt silly. "May I?"
"Of course. They're yours."
Aramis didn't feel as if he belonged in this room with them. Everything was so personal, and was very much none of his business at all. It left a sickly sort of feeling in his stomach.
"Peter's sword!" It took Edmund by surprise to see it, though it shouldn't have.
"Yes." Caspian beamed as he put down the chest, allowing Lucy to take her things. "I looked after it as promised. Here. Hold it if you wish."
"No, no." He pushed it away, paying it no mind, knowing that if he did, it would bruise his ego further. "It's yours. Peter gave it to you."
"I did save this for you, though." The King smiled. He seemed to be in a more permanent state of happiness now than he was before. He brought the torch from a glass cabinet, and chucked it almost carelessly at the Pevensie boy.
Half heartedly, Edmund replied. "Thanks."
"I should say," Caspian corrected himself. "Aramis was the one who saved it for you. And, it did break once or twice, but he managed to fix it."
"Thanks," He spluttered as the light shone in his face, just as bright as the day he bought it. "Aramis, thank you."
"My pleasure, my King."
• - - •
2018
• - - •
Disclaimer!!!!
I do not own these characters. I do not own the Narnia series. I do not own the actors, or the characters. The only thing I own is my adaptation of the story, and my original character.