Joy in the Fire

Growing Contempt

Elizabeth came to her senses shortly after. When she saw Edward, she scowled and asked accusingly, "What are you doing here?"

Edward raised an eyebrow and said, "In case you'd forgotten, I'm the doctor. And you, Elizabeth Peterson, are sick."

Elizabeth responded with look full of resentment, the look a child gives when he knows he's defeated but is still convinced he's in the right. It was a look that showed that she clearly didn't want Edward to be there, but he just grinned. He was nearly always grinning, like Adrian, except his grin was one of pure happiness, while Adrian's was more of a friendly or humorous grin. That was one of the reasons Elizabeth disliked Edward; he was happy all the time. I mean, here they were, in a blinking cave up on a mountain, their lives in danger, the possibility of them dying or being killed only growing, and he was just grinning, like a drunk crocodile. Elizabeth sighed. A moment later she asked, "Did my father come while I was asleep?"

"No, but I suppose Adrian went to get him."

"Is that where he went..." Elizabeth mused quietly, and Edward looked over her with a strange expression of stern sympathy.

Just then they heard voices outside, and Edward stood up and pushed aside the blanket. He had no sooner stepped out of the sickroom than Mr Peterson came rushing in, fretting over Elizabeth. But Elizabeth was listening to a peculiar conversation taking place outside the blanket.

"You stay away from her," Adrian was saying, "If I see her near you—"

"Oi, I'm the doctor; everyone seems to keep forgetting that! I'm the doctor, and Elizabeth Peterson is sick. Besides, why are you acting as if she belongs to you? I've just as much the right to be near her as you do."

"No, you haven't either!" Adrian retorted. "I'm her acquaintance, and she actually likes me. Or didn't you know, she loathes you. Told me so herself."

"Does she now?" Edward asked playfully, "Pity, really, I rather like her."

Adrian's response to this was incomprehensible, as he yelled it all in a rush, and they had been walking away as they talked and were out of hearing distance now anyways.

Elizabeth wasn't sure whether she ought to be amused or upset. She decided that being upset would be taking Adrian's side of the argument; so, even though deep down she found it amusing, she convinced herself that she was greatly upset, and when Edward returned, she struck up the argument with him.

"Adrian's right, you know. He is my friend and I think he has the right to try to protect me from a berk like you."

Edward seemed to ignore her and began talking to himself. "Patient upset, saying rash, untruthful things..."

"They're not rash, or untruthful," Elizabeth interrupted indignantly; "I tell you, Edward West—"

"Yes, yes. Disturbed like. Perhaps a high fever?" He felt Elizabeth's forehead, and though she jerked his hand away before he had hardly touched it, mused, "Yes. Very high fever, ought to get rest. This might help." He rummaged around in his paraphernalia and extracted a syringe.

"EDWARD WEST, YOU STOP THIS NONSENSE RIGHT NOW, AND I MEAN IT!"

Edward grinned and stowed the syringe away, responding mockingly, "Fine, Elizabeth Peterson."

Elizabeth couldn't help but wonder if his smile faded rather when he said her name or if she only imagined it. She sighed and turned her back to him. She heard him exhale in a monosyllabic laugh. "We're like siblings, rather," he said with a sober smile. "You seem awfully shy and polite around other people, but with me you state your mind and bicker and act a good deal more like yourself."

Elizabeth looked over her shoulder with a half-confused, half-irritated look. "Your point?" she asked exasperatedly.

"What do you mean, my point? I'm not making an argument. I just think we're rather like siblings."

Elizabeth scoffed and Edward grinned. "Whatever you say."

After about a week Elizabeth recovered from her flu, but she remained weak and sickly. Edward said it was malnourishment, and under the circumstances no ever really did get enough to eat. Mr Peterson said that Elizabeth had always been a frail child, and she had never been exposed to the climate, hunger, and discomfort such as was experienced there. She was able to get out of bed, but she was weak, often fainted, and needed physical support most of the time. Edward always looked sympathetic when he saw her, which her pride could not handle and therefore caused her to do rash things that usually ended in her fainting. Then Edward would scold her and tell her not to try to walk much on her own till she was stronger, but to such warnings she turned a deaf ear and a prideful heart.

One morning when she was late for breakfast, Mr Peterson grew slightly anxious and looked for someone to send to ensure that she was alright. "Adrian?" He asked, looking about for the man. "Hi, Edward, have you seen Adrian? I wanted him to check on Elizabeth for me."

"The dunderhead's still asleep, but I'll go if you like." Edward replied, though rather hoping Mr Peterson would say, 'oh, no, I can go myself,' or something of the sort. But instead he said, "Oh yes, thank you, West. That would be wonderful."

So Edward headed in the direction of the Left Wing, hoping that Elizabeth would be asleep and that he wouldn't have to deal with her.

Meanwhile, Adrian woke up and, noticing he was alone in the room, headed into the main room. He glanced around, looking for Elizabeth. Not seeing her, he hurried towards Mr Peterson. "Mr Peterson, sir."

"Morning, Black."

"Where's Elizabeth? Is she alright?"

"She hasn't shown up yet. I just sent Edward West to check on her."

"You sent who?" Adrian clenched his fist by his side. Mr Peterson either didn't notice Adrian's irritation at the mention of the name, or he chose to ignore it. "Edward West, y'know, the doctor. I was going to send you, but I couldn't find you; I heard you were asleep."

Adrian nodded and said, "Just woke up."

"And then Edward offered. Should be back soon now."

Elizabeth had been asleep. Edward walked slowly and quietly to where she lay on the cold stone floor. He could see a concerned expression on her face beneath the hair that hung in front of it. He knelt beside her and pushed her hair aside to feel her forehead. Cold, but what wasn't these days?  Fall was galloping along and it seemed as though winter was coming far too early. Water is not supposed to freeze in October. But when you're in a cave, in a mountain, well, sometimes it can't be helped.

Elizabeth stirred in her sleep and Edward quickly drew away. The last thing he wanted was to wake her. He waited, paranoid, as she turned, and then her eyes fluttered open. Please no, Edward inwardly groaned. Elizabeth's expression quickly changed from concern to fury. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"Your father sent me to see if you were alright because you were late to breakfast. And, quite frankly, I really hoped you wouldn't wake up because I knew you would be sore if you saw me." He proffered a hand which she stubbornly refused and stood up of her own accord. She faltered a moment, but when Edward put out an arm to help her, she snapped, "I'm fine!"

Edward sighed. "Listen here; either you let me help you now and I support you somewhat, or you try to walk on your own, faint into my arms," (he said grew playfully dramatic here) "and I have to carry you to your father. So just save me the trouble, will you?"

Elizabeth glared at him for a moment and then gave in, letting him support her across the room. As they neared the entrance to the middle room, they nearly ran into Adrian, whose arms Elizabeth was happy to let support her. Edward rolled his eyes at them, received a look of contempt from Adrian, grinned, and ambled over to console a little boy who was crying.