Hotel Napoleon, Paris, France.
The early Parisian dawn disrupted Edith's sleep as she blinked once, twice, and stretched before turning away from the invading sunlight.
She rolled over and opened her eyes, smiling gently as she came face to face with her new husband. Tentatively she slipped her arm under the sheet to wrap around his bare torso while he continued to snore softly, unabated.
Edith took this opportunity to study the features of her bridegroom as he slept; the way the lines on his worried forehead had smoothed and the way he looked completely at peace. She could not resist but to move her arm once more to cradle his cheek with the palm of her hand, affectionately stroking the morning shadow of stubble which resided upon his face.
At the physical contact Bertie flinched slightly and furrowed his brow as he groaned unconsciously and shifted to wrap his arm around his wife's waist.
As he continued on with his slumber Edith thought back to the events of the night before. He was so loving with her, so cautious, as if she were a porcelain doll which would crack at his touch. She closed her eyes and reminisced fondly of his wordless request to remove her chemise, his hands trembling as he did so. He touched her tenderly and whispered intimate sweet nothings into her ear as they made love throughout the evening.
She was so lucky, Edith thought. This man who already had given her so much - he was more than worth the wait. As she opened her eyes again she saw Bertie gazing up at her with adoration evident in his own.
"Good morning," he whispered, avoiding direct eye contact as if nerves had suddenly overcome him. "I trust you slept well."
"I did," Edith blushed softly, "I needed the rest."
Before she allowed any awkwardness to set in to their first morning waking up beside each other she tilted her head and kissed him chastely, watching him contemplatively to gauge his reaction. Thankfully he responded to her affections with a proper, sound kiss which lingered lazily as hands began to search for skin to caress once more.
Tongues tentatively connected and soft sighs turned into gentle moans. Their love was not a power play of dominance Edith reflected, but a true companionship based on understanding and equality. Nonetheless, it was not lacking for passion; a thought she entertained as his fingertips trailed up her naked back and shoulder to gently weave and grasp into her hair.
Her own hands in return trailed up his abdomen to rest against his chest, allowing herself to be completely encompassed by him as he resumed his intentions from the previous night.
They sat leaning against the quilted headboard, propped up on plush pillows, with Bertie's arm wrapped around her. Their hands were intertwined as she cuddled into him, her head resting lazily on his shoulder.
"I never want to leave this bedroom, you know." Bertie chuckled softly as he grinned down at her.
"While that would be ideal, darling, I can't say we would be making the most of an entire week in Paris," Edith smiled shyly at her husband. "Anyway, do you not fancy going to see some of the sights, experience the cuisine, and just bask in the culture of it all?"
"I'd go anywhere with you, at any time. You need only ask." Bertie replied seriously, "With you on my arm there is no view quite so lovely to compare."
Edith blushed again, before turning towards him for a quick peck and settling back into his arms.
Arc de Triomphe, Place Charles de Gaulle, Paris.
"Come on, darling, only forty-six steps to go!" Edith giggled as Bertie huffed and made a half-attempt to chase her up the winding steps.
Pushing open the rigid wooden door on the top pier of the structure they stumbled through, gasping for breath from the exertion of the climb and their shared laughter, onto the open viewing platform of the monument. They stood side by side in awed silence for a few moments to simply appreciate the aerial view of Paris that confronted them. Edith interrupted the quiet to point out the Eiffel Tower to the east, and Bertie pointed out various other landmarks within their sight, explaining their historical significance.
In this moment, both were filled with such overwhelming feelings of joy that they could not contain the urge to embrace unashamedly, despite the fact that no one else was present at the top of the building to admonish their public display of affection. Peering over the metal railing with her husband behind her and his arms firmly around her waist, Edith could not remember a time when she had ever felt more at peace.
She opened her mouth to share her sentiments only to be quietened once more as she felt his lips brush her temple.
"I love you terribly, my darling," Bertie whispered sincerely into her ear, "I hope you know just how much."
Edith still said nothing but covered his hands with her own and leaned back against him, revelling in how perfect her life was at this very moment in time.
Fin.
[A/N] So, there you have it! This may actually be the most sickeningly fluffly and romantic thing that's ever occurred to me (which is amusing considering I am not a sickeningly fluffy person at all!) but this little drabble popped into my head and refused to leave. It was mainly inspired by one of my favourite songs 'Parisienne Walkways' by Gary Moore (credit for the title) and my own memories of the times I have visited Paris. Fun fact, the scene at the Arc de Triomphe was actually inspired by the memory of my most recent trip a couple of months ago - me and my mum climbing up every single step to get to the top, only to discover there was a lift which would have saved us the trouble! It was worth it though, the view from up there is truly spectacular.
I'm thinking about doing a one-shot actually covering the first night of Edith and Bertie's honeymoon, which was hinted at in the beginning, if there is sufficient interest. I'm well-aware of the lack of Edith x Bertie fics at the moment but I'm really hoping that will change as more and more people begin to take a liking to them as I recently have.
Anyway, I hope every one has a lovely New Year.
