Could Have, Should Have, Didn't - A Narnia Fanfiction

Chapter Fifteen: One Can Only Hope

Years.

His nightmares and dreams felt like they'd been years ago, pounding in his head with ice, seeming so real whenever he closed his eyes, giving him a panicky feeling that wouldn't cease— and, swallowing, he groaned— this soup was going to be the death of him. 

No wonder Lucy hadn't wanted it at first. Bits of cabbage weren't and never would be good, or flavorful. It was like biting into a leaf plucked straight from a branch, and doused with weakly seasoned water.

His nose wrinkled and he tried to swallow, it not quite going down the first time, a carrot and flimsy piece of cabbage lodging in his throat. Wonderful, he'd just gotten over an agonizing coughing fit. Now he was choking. Panic rose.

Timothy pulled the bowl of soup away and offered a rag as a napkin. "Don't die."

"Yeah," Ed said around dry coughs, the food dislodging, "'cause then, on my gravestone, it wouldn't even say I died of a horrid sickness."

"Only, that you died choking on a piece of cabbage." Smirking playfully, Timothy leaned forward and took the rag off of his forehead, dipping it into the bucket he held on one arm, then putting it back with cooler water. "Which, I mean, is original. I bet you no one has that carved on their gravestone."

"Oh, well isn't that wonderful." He took a sip of the last of his water in his cup and leaned back against his pillow. A relief to his sore back.

Holding out the bowl of soup, Timothy raised an eyebrow.

Edmund shook his head. "I think I'll wait a little. I'm not starving anyway."

"Well... after that experience..." He set the bowl onto a nearby barrel and dropped the spoon in. "I can see why you might be wary."

"Excuse me." Rita skirted beside his hammock, narrowly missing a collision with an older man, who glared her way. Her face was ashen, redness clinging to the rims of her eyes.

What was she doing up?

"What are you doing up?" Timothy asked before Ed could, hands on his hips.

"Thanks for the sweet "hello"." She sarcastically rolled her eyes and then looked at him in the hammock. "How's Ed?"

"You could ask me yourself, you know."

She frowned teasingly and patted Timothy's arm. "I can see he feels better." Her tone got huskier, like sobs were blocking her voice. "Thank goodness."

"He just woke up, so don't excite him too much." Crossing his arms, Timothy leaned against the pole holding up his hammock.

Yeah, well, just her standing over there was enough to excite what little strength he had left.

Rita came closer. "I won't, besides, since Edith and everyone is feeling better, I think I might get some rest..." Turning her head, she gave a worried glance at Timothy. "Unless you need me over here with Ed."

No, he probably didn't, but Edmund needed her over here.

"Nah, I got him covered, he's not as difficult as he was when he had his nightmares. You'll have plenty of time to rest."