Lost
What could he do? How could he help? Edmund was so lost!
In fact, now reflecting on all those precious moments of his life with Hermione in the picture, he knew he had only ever been lost.
From the time she had fallen out of the sky and right into his arms… he was lost.
He had been wandering the woods aimlessly, something in him pushing him forth that day in the precise direction his gut was dictating and pop out of the sky had fallen an angel in his arms. She had whimpered in agony and he had rushed her back to Cair Paravel. The rest as they say, was history.
Once she had been nursed back to health she had asked about her surroundings and while being questioned herself, she had said she was from their own Mother Country. Wondering about what her arrival had meant, he was lost.
When she had realised she was in a magical country, she had, quite unwittingly revealed her own powers. And how yet another witch could affect him so deeply was a question that had had Edmund lost in his thoughts all over again.
It had taken time.. quite a lot of time.. for him to trust her. After an experience like his, trust did not come easy to him. Trust in a witch even less so. And yet those days when he didn't get even a single glimpse of her, we was lost.. the day lacking it's shine in some way for him.
While trusting her hadn't come easy, loving her had been alarmingly so. That feeling.. that realisation.. that the witch in front of him had enough power over him to make him wage a war without a thought.. had been both humbling and terrifying. Like jumping off the tallest peak of an island without a wand or wing and yet believing in a safe landing, somehow…
He still remembered how the world had turned on its axis for him between one breath and the next. They were talking, she had laughed, his breath had hitched, she'd shaken her head in mirth, his eyes had widened in shock, she had looked at him, the smile on her face introducing a softness to his, their eyes had met, they had blinked and he had been lost ever since…
For days he'd tried to find his way out of the abyss of dark chocolate that were her eyes. Until finally he'd plucked up all his courage and one evening, while they were strolling the gardens alone, he had finally kissed her. After a second's hesitation, she had responded. He had growled triumphantly before kissing her back with ardour and between one heartbeat and the next, he was lost…
They married a few short months into their courtship. Neither was afraid of the commitment to the other. The first time he'd held her in his arms, making her truly his in every sense of the word, she had reciprocated with a passion that had even beguiled his. And to that heady feeling of being surrounded by her, of holding her oh-so-close that not even a hair's breath separated them both, of having her blunt nails digging into his back, of having his own hands wrapped around her waist and fisting her warm cascade of curls, to that heady sensation of holding everything he had ever wanted in his life, right then, in his arms, he had been lost.
Speaking to her with nothing but kisses and carnal touches through the long, cool summer nights, having her on his arm through all those tiresome stately balls, talking to her about everything, small and big, knowing she was all his… those moments were magic all by themselves. In the journey they started as strangers, to wary acquaintances, to hesitant friends, to loyal cohorts, then moving on to something so much more… was so euphoric, that each time he thought of them, he was lost for hours.
And now, pacing the stone lined floors of his castle, waiting to hear the wail of their first-born, standing alone while his wife, his Hermione, screamed in agony on the other side of the thick wooden door, he was lost about what to do… How could he help her? How could he reduce her suffering?
And then it happened…
The loud cry of his child that echoed through the empty walls brought all his siblings to the abandoned corridor quickly.
"It's a boy.." he whispered when they stepped close to see the tiny infant the nurse had laid carefully in his hands.
"My boy…" he softly repeated, his mind still in a state of disbelief that he had a hand in the making of something so small, so perfect…
And then his little boy had slowly opened his eyes. His Hermione's soft brown eyes looking back at him. And he knew..
Between his little boy and his beautiful bride, life for Edmund was perfect and he never wanted any of it to change…
Edmund knew he was lost… But if this was how being lost felt… King Edmund Pevensie, the Just, also knew that he never wanted to be found again…