Part 3

Disclaimer: I wish I owned the Chronicles of Narnia, but well, I don't.

✩ ✮ ✯ ƸӜƷ ƸӜƷ ƸӜƷ ƸӜƷ ƸӜƷ ƸӜƷ

Oreius struggled to open his eyes.

They opened, but nothing became clearer.

Everything was mothy, felted with dusty static. Ragged, feathery. Everything was in shades of brown.

He opened his mouth and tried to ask for King Edmund. Had he saved him?

"Mmmmf. Edhhguh."

"Just a moment," a female voice murmured softly, "I'll get you feeling better, General Oreius. I'd like for you to go back to sleep."

Why could he see nothing but shades of brown? The world was suffocating, filled with nothing.

Something sharp pricked the skin of his arm. He recognized the feeling as pain, welcoming it as it sharpened his focus somewhat.

The needle withdrew.

Everything washed away in a soft wave of black.

✩ ✮ ✯ ƸӜƷ ƸӜƷ ƸӜƷ ƸӜƷ ƸӜƷ ƸӜƷ

Oreius felt like he was gone.

Dissolved, evaporated.

These thoughts passed through his mind, and he forgot them as soon as they were through.

Then he could open his eyes again, and this time he could see, see the world with its piercing colors and the too-bright sunlight filtering through the window. He wished he could go back to only seeing the dull brown. Colors hurt.

He became dimly aware of someone speaking.

"…At last! I must say, I am relieved to see you awake, Oreius!" A small hand closed over his, squeezed it. "Oh, Oreius, we've all been so frightened for you! Can you hear me?"

His tongue felt like sludge. He tried to answer. He prodded himself to remember the way to speak.

He wanted to ask for King Edmund again. For Aslan's sake, is the Just King all right?

"Mrumph," he said, and then, "Edwmphnd."

"Edmund?" Queen Lucy said, pleased at a word she could recognize. "Oh, he's quite all right, don't worry! Would you like him to come in?"

Oreius tried again, this time to tell her this was right.

He garbled a few more words, and eventually managed to push a few words through.

"King." More gibberish. "Edmund". More gibberish. "Please." And still more gibberish. "In."

"I will bring him in here, Oreius," said Lucy softly, and squeezed his hand again. "He will be so pleased to see you. I hope you're alert enough to speak with him."

She left.

Minutes passed, and Oreius began to think perhaps the Just King would not come after all, when at last he arrived, bringing High King Peter as well.

"King," Oreius managed, and then tried to speak, to ask if King Edmund was all right, if he was injured, but all that came out was gibberish, of course. The young king recoiled, to Oreius's dismay.

He grew louder, asking him something most urgently.

King Peter just shook his head in small motions, as if not wanting Oreius to know that neither he nor his brother understood a word he was saying.

"Oh," King Edmund murmured at last, "I suppose you're trying to ask something about me. My guess would be you want to know that I'm unhurt, knowing you." He snorted softly, shaking his head. "Is that right?"

It was, and Oreius nodded and fell quiet now, awaiting the answer to his question.

"Yes, I'm fine. You saved me. Don't worry." King Edmund sighed. "Peace, Oreius."

This answer soothed his worries greatly and he relaxed somewhat. He smiled at his kings to thank them both for their patient attention and it was only when they did not smile back that he realized he was chattering away in a burble of watery sounds. The looks on their faces were ones of panic or grief.

He forced his mouth shut, clenching his jaw.

Now that he knew King Edmund was quite alright, he'd like to know what had become of the creatures they'd been fighting, but he feared to speak.

King Peter went away, and King Edmund sat at his side. His eyes grew heavy and he slept.

✩ ✮ ✯ ƸӜƷ ƸӜƷ ƸӜƷ ƸӜƷ ƸӜƷ ƸӜƷ

Oreius woke again. He found himself alone.

Immediately, he struggled to stand. He never had been able to bear lying down for extended periods of time. But to his outrage, his back leg buckled beneath him, bring him crashing to the ground roughly.

Searing pain shot through the leg, and the back of his head as he bashed it against the wall. "Agh!" he cried. Immediately, he heard footsteps rushing toward him.

"Why, Oreius!" cried Queen Susan as she came through the doorway. "What in Aslan's name are you doing? You are not well!"

Rather than bother with trying to answer, he kept his mouth firmly shut. He was dreadfully tired of his inability to speak, and did not wish to hear it.

"Lie down, at once," she commanded. He did so, even allowing her to clasp his arm and ease him back onto the blankets covering the floor.

Oreius sighed.

"Please don't get up again," she said quietly, "It would upset Edmund terribly to know you were hurting yourself." And she went from the room.

He'd just have to heal soon, then. He would not stand for this resting.