HELLO. I am so super uber sorry that I haven't been able to upload this chapter. School is extremely annoying. Anywhoo, PLEASE review. I would like to get reviews, especially for some opinions as to what people want to see happen. I basically have all the plot issues worked out, but it would be amazing to have some advice on what to do with my oc's. opinions and reviews welcome
Peter had begun to make his way to the infirmary before daybreak, hoping to be at Edmund's side before the younger Pevensie brother woke up. He hadn't slept at all since he left Edmund with Miss O'Malley, one of the few people he could possibly trust with his brother's well being. The hurried thuds of Peter's footsteps rang out in the hallways of Finchley, echoing in the morning silence. He was restless to return to his brother's side, to speak with the cheery nurse, and to discuss the dream with Edmund. Peter had questions, and he hoped Edmund could answer.
When Peter arrived at the infirmary, he first saw Miss O'Malley through the open door, near the supply cabinet and knitting. She smiled at him and waved as Peter walked towards Edmund's bed.
"He's slept like a baby since you left. You should probably be more careful. I could have slipped him a Mickey Finn in that medicine and you would have never known." She stood up, set aside her yarn, and handed Peter a stiff-backed oak chair. "Sit," she said. "I can get another chair. You look like you just took a hike through hell, Goldilocks. Make sure you get something to eat. I don't want you in a bed next to your brother because you've fainted from starvation."
"So he hasn't had another dream?" Peter asked, looking at his brother, who continued to sleep through the observers' conversation. "I really do worry about him."
Miss O'Malley patted the older brother's shoulder reassuringly and replied, saying, "He's been asleep dear. But you, Blondie, obviously have not." Peter let out a tired sigh, then nodded in exhausted agreement.
"Oh! I told you that I would contact my colleague." Peter appeared my encouraged by the turn of subject. "I sent him a telegram a few hours ago. He responded around twenty minutes ago."
"What did he say?"
"He'll be here around seven in the evening. I didn't expect him to answer so soon, but I'm not surprised. Dr. Karinsky is a very prompt and punctual man."
A familiar voice was then heard. "I hope he's prompt. I really don't want to spend any more time in this ward than I have to. Thanks for coming so early, Peter"
Edmund pushed himself up to sit against the headboard, yawning as he did so. "Thank you as well, Miss O'Malley. You've been extremely kind."
"It's no problem, love. It's why I'm here, to help lovely young men like yourself."
Miss O'Malley analyzed the two brothers' behavior and realized that the boys wanted to talk to each other alone. Both of the Pevensies were much too polite to ask her to leave, but their eyes showed that they obviously needed to discuss the night's events.
"I'll go get you two boys a delicious breakfast. I believe they are serving eggs and bacon today. I'll be back in around a half an hour. Don't have too much fun and blow up my infirmary."
"We won't, Miss O'Malley," Edmund said with a grin. Peter was amazed that Edmund could enjoy humor only hours after he had been screaming in true terror. In Peter's mind, Edmund was the most resilient of the four Pevensies and by far the most perseverant. He was often awestruck by his thirteen-year-old brother, and when he saw Edmund remaining dignified despite his circumstances, he couldn't help but feel immense respect for the boy. "We'll be perfectly tame," said the young brunette. "I'll keep a close watch on our Peter."
As Miss O'Malley left her infirmary and walked down the corridor, he fashionable shoes could be heard clicking even behind closed doors. 'What a good woman,' Peter thought. 'Lucy would absolutely adore her.' The older Pevensie turned to Edmund and asked, "How are you feeling now?"
Edmund merely shrugged and said, "I'm not even sure. I can barely even figure out what could have sparked the dream."
"Neither can I. It's very confusing. Nobody is threatening Narnia or trying to destroy us. Why should you be having these dreams again?"
Edmund began to play with a thread hanging from the hem of the hospital sheets, a rare display of emotion creeping across his face. Peter knew this particular look and was worried by the implications: Edmund was afraid. It was obvious that the younger brunette was trying not to show his fear, and Peter knew that most people would never notice or see this side of his brother. Once again, Peter prayed to Aslan that the doctor could provide some aid to Edmund.
"Has anything strange happened recently?" Peter asked. "Anything out of the usual?"
When Edmund shook his head in disappointment, Peter sighed, then patted his younger brother's shoulder. "It'll all work out, Ed. It always does. We've faced worse things before, and Aslan has always helped us prevail. I'm positive he has sent us Miss O'Malley, and maybe he's sent us this Dr. Karinsky fellow. We must keep our faith, and he will surely guide us."
As Peter spoke these inspirational words, Edmund saw the High King of Narnia and his atmosphere of glory. The ambience was more comforting than any attempts that others could offer. Edmund truly felt safe in the presence of his brother and liege. The mention of Aslan also brought some serenity and security to Edmund, and he was truly thankful for his family and those who cared for him.
"I believe you're right, Pete. About Miss O'Malley, I mean. She's a lovely woman, and she's always been remarkably kind," said Edmund in agreement to the previous statement. "She almost seems to have a Narnian air about her, don't you think?"
Peter nodded. "She reminds me of the dryad Penelope. They've got similar personalities. If I didn't know better, I'd say they were sisters." Peter grinned as e recalled incidences during their reign. Do you remember how she would flit about the palace at times? She had such a bright attitude. Mildred the Tortoise was always irritated with her."
Edmund chuckled at the memory. "That she did. I sometimes think Mildred was just jealous of the speed that Penelope could move. Lucy was always so fond of Mildred's old stories though." Both boys laughed as they reminisced about the citizens of Narnia during their Golden Years.
The Pevensie brothers continued to joke and share recollections until Miss O'Malley returned from the cafeteria with breakfast for the two boys.
"Rise and shine, dearies. I've got food for all of us." She set a tray with two plates on Edmund's bedside table. "I have water and juice as well. I would offer you my scotch, Peter, but it's far too close to class time for that."
Edmund snickered, than gave Peter an incredulous look that seemed to say 'Is she serious?' Peter shrugged in resignation before sitting next to his brother and reaching for a piece of bacon.
"I sent a letter to the girls," the blonde stated. "I thought they should know, and maybe they can help somehow."
"That's a good idea," replied Edmund. "Hopefully this Dr. Karinsky bloke will be the good sort as well. Miss O'Malley trusts him."
"Well," Peter said optimistically. "He'll be here tonight. We'll just have to figure him out then. He seems like a rather peculiar fellow, from what Miss O'Malley has said."
"It's not like we haven't seen odd before," joked the Just King. "After camping with those silly Marshwiggles for three weeks, nothing seems nearly as out of the ordinary to me."
Peter chuckled at the memory of the rather glum and depressing bog dwellers. "I suppose you're spot on with that, Ed. But in my opinion, the vibrant pixies of Archenland were stranger. Do you remember how their chieftain would wear silver and gold motley whenever he would make court appearances? The pixie women were always flirting with the talking mice."
The atmosphere of the room was dramatically brightened since the conversation had turned to Narnia. Neither boy could remain upset after Narnian stories had been told, and the comfort of their sisters' knowledge of the situation was calming. The brothers exchanged familial banter and told anecdotes from their years before their magical journeys. Cricket games gone awry, humorous miscommunications, and innumerable pranks dominated the material of their discussion Their talk remained jovial, and they barely noticed Miss O'Malley's return to the infirmary.
"I hate to interrupt you boys, but class is about to begin. Edmund can stay and get some rest, but Peter has to return to his daily routine." Miss O'Malley stuck out her tongue, as if to suggest her extreme dislike for schoolwork. "Maybe Blondie here can get some of your assignments so you don't get too far behind or let your grades suffer. We can't let our little history prodigy fail, now can we?"
Miss O'Malley motioned for Peter to begin leaving, and as he stood, he asked, "How did you know Ed was brilliant in history?" At Peter's statement, Edmund beamed with pride.
"The faculty and staff here at Finchley are quite close. Professor Radford and I have spoken about you two boys on several occasions. He's extremely complimentary, I assure you."
Edmund looked at Peter, who was slinging his messenger bag over his shoulder. "Go on Pete," the brunette said. "I'll be fine. Miss O'Malley is an exceptionally good conversationalist.
Peter exited the infirmary with a quick wave towards the lively nurse and an "I'll be back immediately after class" for his younger brother. His mood worsened, however, as his exhaustion began to settle in.
'Oh Aslan… What should we do?'
As Dr. Ivan Karinsky's train rumbled across the English countryside, the doctor pondered what sort of boy he would be observing. He had recently worked with several veterans who had fought on the offensive front line forces in Germany and had listened to some truly horrific accounts of war. Needless to say, he had dealt with dreams that reflected the traumas they had seen.
Ivan Karinsky had always fancied himself as open-minded and accepting, and he tried to treat his younger patients as he would adults. Teenagers were, in his mind, much more complex than other age groups, and respect was crucial for necessary mental aid. He supposed he learned this skill awareness from his long time mentor, a brilliant man by the name of Professor Kirke, who often told fantastic stories of magic and mythical lands. Ivan could never determine the extent of the professor's belief in such tales, but the accounts of such epic and noble happenings continued to intrigue the doctor.
'Who knew that at age forty-three I would still love fairy tales?' he mused. 'He was my age, though, when I first met him at university, and he still believed. I suppose I'm not that strange, then."
Dr. Karinsky grinned as he remembered the hours he would spend with Professor Kirke in the massive libraries of Oxford, listening awestruck for hours of distant worlds. 'All boys should strive to be knights in shining hour.'
The train chugged onward and Dr. Ivan Karinsky pulled his small leather-bound journal with a gilded monogram on its cover from his nearby bag. He began to sketch highlights of the memories that fascinated him, drawing of ethereal dryads and naiads, hardworking talking animals, hard-working talking animals, stocky dwarves, towering giants, and majestically noble centaurs. The images were scattered among his psychologist's scribbled observations, often making appearances in the margins of the notes on his more boring patients. When he peered out of the curtained windows, he somewhat wished that these creatures could actually exist. They couldn't, of course, but they would make life much more interesting.
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