Part 3: who once had the heart of mine
When Edmund returned to Cair Paravel that night, for the first time he did not return alone. In his company was a young dryad with long brown hair, wearing a dress that fit her slim body ill. It was clearly made for a much larger, rounder woman. But It was the only dress Moira had had that at all stayed on Olwen's slim form, so it would simply have to do. Besides, considering the time it took to convince Olwen to wear anything at all, Edmund did not really care what she was wearing. He was too full of gratitude to one of the most generous people he had met in his whole life. Olwen, lovely Olwen, who had agreed to carry his child to term - and not only that, but to return with him to Cair Paravel and marry him. Well, she had agreed after Edmund had explained to her what it meant to be "married" and Moira had explained what it meant to be "pregnant" and what it entailed to give birth. His little Olwen, so brave and selfless, what had he ever done to deserve her?
Moira had used her magic to transfer the baby from Edmund's body to Olwen's, then she had explained to them how Olwen would be able to live a healthy, safe life away from the forest. They had with them a branch cut from Olwen's tree, and they were to plant it in the courtyard where they were to water it every day for a week with a potion they had been given. It would then grow to a good, strong tree that Olwen was to visit every day. They had been carefully instructed that Olwen must go to the tree every day, break off a leaf and wear it all day against her skin. No one else might do it for her; it had to be done with her own hands.
Edmund had a death grip on Olwen's hand as they entered the courtyard, In the other, he held the pot with the branch from her tree. Olwen was exclaiming and pointing at everything she saw, as excited as a child on Christmas, her face alight with excitement. She kept asking what things were called and how they worked until his head positively spun and he felt great sympathy for the man with the blind wife whom God blessed and made seeing again in the story his mother had read when he was little. Every question he answered was followed by at least three more, and finally he begged off answering. He promised to teach her later, but for now he would advise that they went to dinner as he needed to introduce her to the court anyway. This statement prompted a long explanation what a court was, telling her about his brother and sisters, describing their features and explaining how she should greet them so as "not to look silly" as she put it.
It felt as if every single pair of eyes in the entire DIning Hall was centered on him where he stood in the doorway, holding Olwen's hand. It made him feel terribly uncomfortable and to be fair his instincts were telling him to run back to his rooms and hole up there for a few months, preferably forever, but he felt as if he owed Olwen to stand proud by her side, to treat her like the Queen he was going to make her. She deserved a husband who was proud to call her wife, who cared for her and the child she was carrying. He straightened his back and met the curious gazes head on, not letting as much as a muscle reveal how nervous he was. But there was one gaze he could not meet; Caspian's. Instead he looked at his sisters, who both seemed amused, and Peter, who showed naught but surprise. Olwen squeezed his hand briefly as a way of comforting him, and Edmund forced his feet to move through the hall. Olwen walked next to him, surprisingly silent and docile, and he felt impossibly grateful to her for that. He turned his head and gave her a nervous smile that she returned in the same way. Then they stood before the High Table and he could no longer avoid looking at Caspian.
"Your Majesties" He said, and in the stunned silence his voice reached even the furthest part of the hall. "This is Olwen of the Birch, dryad of the woods. She is also the woman who is to be my bride." The silence, which ad been stunned, intensified until it was so tense you could cut it with a knife. No one said anything, not even Olwen, who seemed to shrink at Edmund's side as everyone looked at her. She tugged at the dress she was wearing and would not raise her gaze from the floor. The silence dragged on, and Edmund felt sick to his stomach.
Then finally Lucy, bless her generous heart, stood up and rounded the table so that she could embrace Olwen.
"Welcome, tree-born sister" she said, smiling. "Edmund is a lucky man." Olwen beamed at her.
"Yes" she said in the simple way that Edmund knew so well. "He is." Someone laughed, and the tense silence was broken as the men and women in the hall called their encouragement and congratulations to Edmund for having caught such a lovely creature. Even Peter cheered and congratulated him, and Susan who did not want to be outdone by Lucy hugged Olwen and welcomed her to the family. In his relief that they were accepted, Edmund did not notice that Caspian was unusually silent.
And so time passed and summer turned into fall, the beginning of Autumn marked by Edmund and Olwen's wedding. It was the first true day of Autumn, when the air was crisp and clear and the trees had just started to shift in gold and red. They wedded in the courtyard, in the shadow of the tree they had planted on her first day in Cair Paravel. It was the same tree that they had watered every day for a week with a magic potion that made it grow into a mighty tree, with a trunk wider than Olwen's waist, even at six months pregnant. All present agree that the bride was stunningly beautiful in her green gown embroidered with leaves and flowers, even the dryads who had come in dozens from the forest to see their little sister marry the human she had chosen. They were a little confused as to why there ceremony was needed as they did not do such things, but accepted that the narnians had traditions different from their own. They hugged and kissed their sister, wished her luck, reminded her of how to properly care for a sprout so that it would grow into a sapling, and sang to the newlyweds. It was a feast that lasted for two days throughout Narnia, everyone celebrating that King Edmund had taken a wife and that they were expecting their child the same winter.
Edmund was flushed with wine and dancing and happiness, out of breath after having twirled several laughing dryads across the dance floor, when Caspian cornered him by the punch bowl.
"You lied to me." he said as a way of greeting.
"And how do you figure that I did that?" Edmund asked, helping himself to another goblet of the fruity and highly alcoholic punch.
"Olwen is six months pregnant. You were screwing her in the woods, weren't you? You told me that there was nothing going on!" Edmund stared at the man who had avoided him like the plague ever since he announced his intent to marry, only speaking to him when required. He thought of all the nights he had cried himself to sleep in Olwen's arms, of the pain and heartache and humiliation and fear. He thought of the child making Olwen's belly swell, the child that wasn't hers but that she was willing to raise and love as hers anyway. And he got angry, for the first time honestly angry at Caspian.
"How dare you" He hissed as he dragged Caspian out onto the balcony so as not to be overheard. "How dare you accuse me of being a liar! You of all people! You who treated me like your whore, good for a fuck in the dark but not good enough to be acknowledge in the daytime. You, who rubbed your conquests in my face even knowing that i loved you, who humiliated and hurt me over and over again because you could not possibly marry a man." Caspian opened his mouth to say something, but one icy glare from Edmund made him close his mouth again. "Then you blame me and accuse me, treating me even worse when I have finally had enough and move on with my life! How dare you act like the betrayed lover when it was you who betrayed me, over and over again!" He stopped there, breathing heavily, not wanting to cause any more damage. No matter what happened, his heart was still Caspian's and he ached with the knowledge that he would not raise his child with him. That it would be Olwen who would sing lullabies and play and hug and kiss his child. Not Caspian. Caspian, who was blinking rapidly as if trying to keep tears at bay, opening and closing his mouth several times before he could speak.
"I love you, Edmund" he finally whispered. Edmund looked at him sadly.
"I don't believe you" he said, as quietly as Caspian's confession. Then he turned his back and returned to the party. He desperately needed to hug his wife.