The door to his bedroom creaked. It always creaked, always made that loud, obnoxious sort of moan when he opened it, and he could usually ignore that, but—
Tonight he jumped. He had no idea why—he wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary, sneaking out towards midnight. But for some reason, he flew to feet in the air and landed with a soft thump when he opened his door and the hinges creaked.
She was waiting near the altar in the woods—not quite on it, but close enough that he knew she could feel the mist. Edmund smiled a little at the sight of her short, boyish hair and slender, feminine figure. She was in an olive green gown that fell past her ankles into a pool of fabric at her feet, and when she looked at him and grinned, trying to move towards him, she stumbled a little over it.
"Stupid thing, isn't it?" she muttered, picking herself up and falling into his arms.
"Quite. If it didn't suit you so well, and if I weren't to lose my head for it, I would ask you to take it off."
She smacked him upside the head, and he winced a little. "If that's how you're going to be, Edmund, then—"
"No, please don't. I'll be good, honest—look, I even brought you something."
"That's sweet of you, I suppose."
He held up a flower and tucked it behind her ear, because her hair was too short.
"There you go, darling. Beautiful."
"Flatterer."
"I'm not flattering you! What did I say this time to warrant such an insult?"
"Have you told Peter?"
"No, not yet."
"I'm going to kill you!" she marched away with a frustrated sigh, towards the altar, and sat down with a determined thump.
"I'm a grown man, Eva. I have a right to make my own decisions regarding my love life."
"Yes, but I'm also a grown woman, and I have the right to make you tell your older brother—since neither of us have parents to ask for permission, siblings are the next best thing."
"Eva." He sat down beside her, cupped her face in his hands, "You're worried."
"Of course I'm worried."
"What of, then?"
"The usual."
"How is Jacob?"
"Worse than ever. He'd rather I do it now, and get it over with, while he's alive—he's always fretting about how I'm going to end up an old maid without anyone to take care of me—"
He kissed her fiercely, and when he pulled away he leaned to touch his forehead to hers and whispered, "I swear—I'll take care of you, no matter what, Eva, if anyone ever so much as looks at you the wrong way—"
"Edmund." She said calmly, "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. My brother, however, does not think so—and I'm more worried he dies with a troubled mind than whether or not someone looks at me the wrong way."
"I'd marry you in an instant, you know that."
"I know you would—but you're not asking me my opinion on this subject, are you?"
"Will you?"
"Will I marry you? I might consider it, for Jacob. But I won't do it in secret, and not in lies—I want to see your brother and sisters, and I want you to go ask Jacob for my hand like you ought to, like he wants my suitors to do."
"Eva," he murmured, "I will, really, I will. Don't you believe me?" he looked at her in the way he always did when he was particularly hurt by one of her biting comments—like she'd shot him, and he was dying painfully and slowly in her arms.
"I do believe you, Edmund. But you must do it soon."
"So you would marry me?"
"I told you I'd consider it."
"Eva."
"What now?"
"You're not being fair. I've sworn myself to you, and you're still considering."
"You're such a child!" she smiled and kissed his cheek.
He bristled though, with a muttered, "I'm older than you are."
"I know you are, but you're childish and wonderful, and I love you—"
"Then why won't you marry me?"
"Because I…"
"Have you fallen in love with another man?"
"I've already said I love you, idiot."
"Then what?"
"I'm not a thing, you know. I need my time, I have the right to consider if I want to—I have my own family to think about, you know, Jacob's health—"
"You said yourself he'd rather you married now!"
"And I must take that into consideration—I need time."
He bit his lip, touched her cheeks gently with his fingers.
"Please?"
"Edmund." She smiled, amused in spite of herself by his impatience.
"Fine."
"No deadline?"
"No deadline. I respect you too much for that."
She hugged him, then stood and walked away with a blown kiss. And Edmund sat, slightly baffled, already in a mood to go home now that she was gone.
