For Edmund

[tooktheblack]

Even after the better part of a month on the island, there were things Jon had not grown used to. There was the fact that his brother and sister were alive and hale for one, something he'd never take for granted, and there were the strange modern "conveniences" like the jukebox and the television and the laundry machines that Jon really tried to steer clear of.

He had been washing his few clothes out by hand, as it was, and was hanging them along a makeshift line when he saw Edmund. Edmund, the brother apparently of the woman he'd married the last time he was here and Jon still wasn't quite sure what to think about that and, by proxy, Edmund himself.

"Afternoon, Edmund," he called out, friendly even if he hadn't stopped working on the laundry to go greet him.

Comments

[giftless]

It was a queer thing to walk the island these days. Some days were completely normal, of course. On those average and ordinary days, Edmund travelled familiar paths to familiar places and greeted familiar faces. But some days, on some of those queer days, Edmund travelled familiar paths to familiar places and saw the face of Jon Snow. Once he had been thoroughly accustomed to such a thing. One day, Edmund was sure, he would be accustomed to such a thing again.

This day was not that day. Today was a queer day.

To see him doing laundry was also odd. Jon had helped Susan in all their household chores, but his sister had taken pride, also, in keeping a tidy, beautiful house. Edmund was much more accustomed to seeing Susan engaged in such an activity (which was not a thought he wished to dwell on).

But for all this strangeness, Edmund smiled pleasantly as he walked the foot-worn path that lead toward Summerfell. Honour lurked somewhere deeper in, guarded by trees and shadows, not too near but never too far. "Good afternoon," Edmund called back. "And how are you this day?"

[tooktheblack]

"Today, you find me well, Edmund Pevensie," Jon said, tone light and smile playing at his lips. He'd grown used to doing his own laundry since coming to the Wall and while it was a little different here on the island (there were machines for it, for one thing, and Jon didn't exactly trust them) the rhythm, once he fell into it, was the same.

"Though doing chores is hardly the way I want to spend my afternoons, it seems it's necessary."

[giftless]

“Sadly,” Edmund agreed, smiling sympathetically. “I hate laundry worst of all, too. It took me ages to figure out how to use the machines properly, and still some days it feels as though all Charlie and I have are dirty clothes. There’s always something better to do, like sparring or sailing or anything at all.”

[tooktheblack]

"I didn't use the machines," Jon confirmed, shaking his head slightly at the mistake that had been him trying to do it. "I just washed them out by hand. Perhaps that was making too much effort out of a small task but it was the way I knew how and easier than trying to ask someone for help."

[giftless]

"Really?" He couldn't help the small smile of amusement, as that sort of thinking was rather the opposite of how it worked most times. But it was the sort of thinking men like Jon (and Edmund himself, at times) fell back on. "If you'd asked me, I could have shown you how in minutes. That's rather easy, I should think."

[tooktheblack]

"Next time, I will," Jon promised, laughing. "I've always been more than a little stubborn. It's not one of my best qualities but I came by it honestly, I think. It's a Stark trait, through and through."

Even if he was only part Stark, the parts that were tended to shine through. Even his brother looked more like a Tully than a Stark.

"Does it ever get easier? Being here on this island, knowing there's things you've left behind back home that need attention? I find myself...thinking sometimes. About the Wall."

[giftless]

Edmund grinned broadly, knowing that stubbornness well in the form of one Arya Stark.

He gave Jon's question more consideration, however his expression never exactly fell. This sort of thing was easier for Edmund than for some others on the island, as he was in the habit, you might say, of travelling between different worlds. "Magic's a funny thing," he said. "As far as we know, the world goes on back home. Peter, Susan and Lucy, they don't miss me back home because I'm still there for them. It doesn't help a lot, I know, to stop the worry. But it helps some. And knowing there's a life here for you to lead, things to do, people to know, a community to change and improve... that helps me, too," Edmund explained. "It's just an awful lot to let go to waste."

[tooktheblack]

"Here, too, my family's alive. It's more than I could ask for in Westeros," Jon said by way of agreement. There were things left undone on the Wall, it was true, but he'd selfishly rather have Robb and Arya once again.

"How do you pass the time, then, if you're not doing your laundry by hand?"

[giftless]

Edmund chuckled softly and shrugged. "Well, I'm on the council. I spar. I sail. Sometimes I go to school, but not a lot, to be honest. I spend time with friends and Charlie. I help out where I'm needed and go to parties. A bit like how I lived in Narnia. Minus... a lot of things." He trailed off with a downward glance, idly brushing his fingers over one of Jon's shirts hung to dry, straightening it.

"Playing with Reynald can take up quite a bit of one's day," he added after half a moment. "You must be busy with him, too."

[tooktheblack]

"He's a good boy. Not at all like Rickon was at that age," Jon said, smile touching his lips. It was almost like having another little brother running around, Reynald, but with the added knowledge that Robb had finally married and had sons the way Jon had always wanted him to.

"Rickon would have torn the island apart."

[giftless]

Hearing the name did Edmund no good at all. It was obvious to him that Jon meant his Rickon, the one he knew back home, not the little boy named after him. But, from some special kind of magic, some things pass through in names just as well as in blood.

He must know, surely, Edmund thought. Though he himself hadn't mentioned Jon's children, Robb must have. Arya. Or would they have?

"There was another boy named Rickon here," he said carefully. "And he nearly did."

[tooktheblack]

"My son, wasn't he?" Jon asked, unsure of how that made him feel. Thinking about the wife and children he'd had here on the island and, apparently, left behind always caused a sharp ache in his chest. Longing, certainly, but no small measure of guilt.

"The other Rickon, that is?"

[giftless]

Edmund nodded, a little relieved not to have to explain yet another incredible thing to Jon. "He was a terror," he said, trying his best to sound light and nearly succeeding. "In the best way. His favorite word was 'no' for a very long while and he had a knack it seemed for getting into trouble."

[tooktheblack]

"Sounds exactly like Rickon," Jon said, laughing but it felt a little hollow. More and more, he felt like he would have liked to know this wife of his, know the children they'd brought into the world. It broke his vows, yes, but clearly she must have been something special if he'd chosen to do that on her behalf and they were worlds away from Westeros.

"I miss them, Bran and Rickon. They say Theon Turncloak had them killed when he sacked Winterfell."

[giftless]

It seemed to Edmund that every tale of Westeros had to be cruel. He disliked the place greatly without ever having stepped foot on or near it, and he did not think that likely to change.

The corners of his mouth drew down and he said, "I'm sorry." Edmund had never known this Bran, that Rickon, this Theon. Strangers killed by a stranger, but they were family nonetheless and it hurt him for that. To know Winterfell fell hurt too, less so and more indistinctly, which Edmund did not quite understand. "Perhaps they'll show up here one day," he said, unsure of how much comfort Jon could find in a thought like that. "Stranger things have happened."

[tooktheblack]

"I would love to see my brothers again," Jon agreed. "But even the bit of family I have here in Robb and Arya is better than anything I would have ever had back in Westeros."

He paused and smiled a bit. "Not to mention you, Edmund. I never would have met you if I didn't come here."

[giftless]

If Edmund were another sort of boy, he would have blushed at the remark. It still touched him, warmed him as only that kind of kindness can, but he only smiled in reply.

It felt good to have Jon back.

"I'm not all that special," he said, because he had to. "But I'm glad to know you, too. All the Starks." He stopped and laughed softly, knowing it wasn't a joke but amused all the same. "Robb called me pack once. For someone like me, that's very queer indeed, but I don't think I'd have it any other way now."

[tooktheblack]

"It's a high honor, to be thought of as that," Jon said. He would have said it too, though, especially considering Edmund's sister had been married into the family. It was still strange, thinking about that, and Jon wondered if someday he'd work up the nerve to ask Edmund more about her.

"You've been good to me since I got here, though. It's a lot to take in, this place, and without your help I'd look like a babe wandering helpless in the forest."

[giftless]

"Believe me, I don't take it as anything but," Edmund assured him, taking the momentary effort to back up his words with a rather serious expression. He had lost all his family on the island now, even Caspian, who was more brother than blood allowed. Without the Starks, he would have nothing, and he knew he wouldn't be able to bear that loneliness.

He grinned lightly and stroked his chin, indicating Jon's beard. "A very hairy babe," he joked, then sobered some again. "I know it's all muddled up and I'm not trying to say you're him exactly, but you're still my brother in a way, Jon. I can't not help you, when you have need of it."

[tooktheblack]

"A man can never have too many brothers," Jon agreed, grinning wildly at Edmund and stroking his beard. "And you're just jealous that it'd take you a year to even get a bit of fuzz on your face and everyone takes you for a woman, right? Is that the way of it?"

[giftless]

Edmund laughed again, shaking his head. "In Narnia, we don't judge a man by his beard but by his acts," he explained, employing that rather annoying, know-it-all voice he used to frustrate his siblings. "Besides, my brother grew a beard once. I've never seen anyone look more ridiculous. I'm staying away."

[tooktheblack]

"We'll see, in time. Besides, I would look younger than Reynald if I shaved," Jon pointed out. "Nobody would ever take me seriously as lord commander again."

Not that he was lord commander on the island, certainly, but some habits and some titles were hard to shed. Jon still felt like he should be doing something more with himself.

[giftless]

"Blank slate," Edmund replied, teasingly. He knew it could be a sore thing, remembering what you once were and are not anymore. Peter took it hardest of all when they returned to England from Narnia, to their childhoods from a glorious reign, to being told what to do rather than doing the telling. Though Jon didn't seem to him much alike with Peter, he wanted to tread carefully.

"You can find yourself a new title with people who don't care how old you look. I'm on the Council, after all. Do I look as young as Reynald?"

[tooktheblack]

"I don't think I'd do well on a Council," Jon admitted. "Being Lord Commander was difficult and I always felt like I never made a good decision. I'm sure I did the best I could with what I had but it doesn't come naturally to me, leading men and inspiring them to do their best."

[giftless]

"Of the Night's Watch?" Edmund guessed. He had not heard much of Jon's story, not from his own mouth certainly, but he did know rather important pieces.

"That's why I like working on a Council," Edmund explained. "You can discuss decisions before they're made, and when you do make them you do in the knowledge that people you trust agree. It worked well with my siblings, too. We argued, certainly, but I think the best decisions came from our arguments, sometimes."

[tooktheblack]

"Lord Commander of the Watch, yes," Jon confirmed. "I got elected after Mormont was killed. It was...an interesting process."

Interesting hadn't been the half of it but that was a long story and full of details Jon thought nobody outside the Watch would actually care about.

"You know, at first, I wanted to be a ranger. My uncle was a ranger, the First Ranger. He scouted all along the Wall and deep into Wildling country."