Voyage of the Dawn Treader – Alternative Movie Scene, Part 2.
By Allyson
(A/N – C.S. Lewis owns all of Narnia)
The lines of heavy text were starting to blur and mix together across the page as Peter's eyes finally began to droop close. Since going to the Professor's home to study for his upcoming exams, Peter had thrown himself into his studies to stop his active mind from worrying about his siblings.
Tonight, a sort of homesickness had taken its grip on Peter's heart and prevented him from sleeping. It wasn't homesickness for his home in Finchley, but more a longing to have his siblings with him. He missed his conversations with Susan and his ears ached to hear Lucy's happy laughter. Most of all, he knew he'd be able to sleep better if he could hear his younger brother's sleeping breath from the bed across the room from him. It was getting to the point where if he let his imagination get the better of him, Peter's ears and eyes played tricks on him. Was that Lucy's or Susan's voice he heard just beyond the closed bedroom door? Was that a flash of Edmund's onyx stare smirking at him from the mirror?
Shaking his head in exasperation, Peter had gotten back out of bed and reopened the books on his desk. Three hours later, exhaustion crashed over him. As his eyes finally closed in sleep, he found himself immediately falling into a dreamlike state.
The sound of waves crashed around him while the creaking timber of a ship rocked under his feet. Peter knew instantly where he was and a calming sensation relaxed him – Narnia. Something pulled at his chest and Peter found himself following a familiar feeling down a dark set of steps and towards a swinging hammock.
"Edmund!" he exclaimed with a delighted grin. "You found your way back! Is Lucy with you too?"
Edmund didn't respond as he tossed restlessly in his hammock. Peter was only vaguely aware of Caspian and his cousin, Eustace Scrubb, sleeping nearby. His attention was wholly focused on his brother. The smile dropped from Peter's expression when he realized that Edmund was suffering from bad dreams.
With a frown, Peter stepped forwards and reached out a hand to calm his brother. His hand ghosted through Edmund's fringe.
"Peter!" He was sure he heard Edmund call out to him but his brother's mouth hadn't moved once.
He carded Edmund's hair again and felt a smug moment of satisfaction when his brother's expression eased for a few moments until Peter moved his hand away. Why was he dreaming of Edmund suffering from bad dreams?
It was then that Peter noticed the green noxious mist coiling up from the deck to wrap around the hammock and almost smother his little brother, stilling his movements. Instinctively, Peter reached for his sword before realizing that he didn't have it with him. Something whispered in his mind, warning him not to get too close to the mist. Before he could think up a plan to wake his brother without being able to touch him, Peter felt a cold dread sink into his stomach. The mist began to form a familiar face as the last voice he wanted his brother to ever hear again sounded on the opposite side of the hammock.
"Edmund," crooned the voice of the White Witch. "My sweet Prince . . . I could make you my King and you could rule of all of Narnia . . . Isn't that what you want?"
Edmund lay still, eyes battling under heavy lids in an effort to wake up. Peter seethed at the apparition, powerless to stop her from talking.
"You will always be mine . . . Silly boy, I cannot die. "Where is Aslan now? He cannot help you . . . If only you had gone to America with your sister . . . But the world isn't fair, is it?"
"Don't listen to her, Ed," Peter told his brother, crouching to murmur in his brother's ear. "Do you hear me?"
"You are a weak boy. You are no soldier, nobody cares about you here. Your precious brother can't save you this time."
Peter glared at the White Witch, wishing her gone. His brother wasn't weak and he was going to prove it to her. "Ed! Wake up, Ed. It's just a dream. She isn't here, you're just dreaming."
At first Peter began to worry that his brother couldn't hear him; that the Witch's grasp was already too strong. Then out of the corner of his eye, he saw Edmund's arm twitch trying to fight the mist. He grinned in triumph at the look of alarm on the Witch's face when she realized she was losing, the mist evaporating away.
Peter spoke louder to drown out the evil woman's silk-lined threats and entreaties, "Come on, Ed. Don't let her win. I know you can do this, Ed. Wake up! EDMUND!"
Peter didn't think he'd ever been so happy to see his brother's eyes open suddenly and sit bolt upright in bed, sword at the ready. The Witch and the mist had disappeared.
"I knew you could do it," smiled Peter, patting his brother's shoulder in congratulations.
Edmund's eyes seemed to travel towards Peter, his expression confused, but before their eyes could meet, Peter felt the ship lurch beneath his feet. With a jolt . . .
. . . Peter awoke with a start to find that he had fallen to sleep slumped across the desk in his room at the Professor's home. Dawn sunbeams were filtering through the curtains and a lone bird was beginning the morning chorus. With a yawn, Peter dragged himself from his chair and collapsed onto his bed. He still felt tired but now that he had seen Edmund in his dreams, sleep came easier for him.
The End.