I had a sudden idea the other night…the final result of which lies below.
Epiphany
"Quiet!"
"Faugh, you're the one galumphing down the stairs…"
"Galumphing?"
"From the Jabberwocky, you know the poem about the vorpal sword and the Bandersnatch, I had to memorize it for school once."
"I am not galumphing. High Kings don't galumph!" said Peter flatly.
Edmund grinned and Peter wondered again at the change that Narnia had wrought in his brother. He still had old memories of a very young Edmund, a cute and ridiculously inquisitive little brother with pale gold curls (that he had cut off) who had so loved to hold his baby sister.
Then there had been that awful school and Edmund had come back changed, a little more taciturn, a little more resentful each day. The Edmund that had been mean to Lucy, that had been so easily swayed to the Witch. He still wondered at times what had happened to his brother there, Edmund had never told him or anyone else that he knew of.
And there was the Edmund that was turning back towards him with a gentle smile, the Edmund that had smashed the Witch's wand without a thought for himself, the Edmund that was brave and noble and true, who teased his brother with that cheeky grin and would give his life for any of them if needed. The Edmund that had the most beautiful smile that he had ever seen save on Lucy and Aslan himself.
The Edmund that was the reason that the two of them were out of bed and traipsing about their own palace in the dead of night.
It had started the night of the Christmas Eve Ball. The air of Narnia had done wonders to the four of them as had their responsibilities. They had grown tall in that year, all the perpetual city smog and the dreariness and discontent washed clean from their faces by the joy and living goodness of Narnia.
They felt years older and looked it, body and soul.
Peter and Edmund had found a beautiful fir tree (not inhabited of course) and dragged it home through the snow back to the Cair.
They had not had a Christmas tree since the war started and besides wishing that their parents could enjoy it with them it had been one of their happiest moments in Narnia. The four of them flushed and laughing, clad in silk and velvet and crowned in gold as they tripped merrily up and down ladders decking the tree in gold and silver, bright jewels winking in the candlelight.
Fauns were singing as they wrapped the great stairs in fir and ivy, old songs that had somehow been preserved from the very dawn of Narnia and the reigns of King Frank and Queen Helen, songs that the Pevensies had sung themselves last year while dark rain fell past their treeless window.
Dryads spun and twirled their leafy hair whispering breezily as they hung the walls with bright tapestries and lit the candles, illumining the entire palace in soft golden light.
The group of centaurs had gone to fetch a Yule log and came dragging a great trunk long and wide as the great hearth. Lucy had leant down lighting it with a long taper and calling for Aslan's blessing upon the land.
They had danced, the girls' skirts flaring out in great circles of crimson and violet brocade as Edmund and Peter spun and whirled them, hands light and strong holding fast through the intricacies of Narnian dances, Dryads' chains and reels, quadrilles and galliards all running into each other in heady, intoxicating joy.
It had been long past midnight by the time the feasting had wound down and the weary and contented monarchs finally collapsed into their beds.
Peter's eyes had just slipped shut when the door opened softly and Edmund called his name.
"Ed?"
"Peter, I was just thinking…"
For a moment Peter was tempted to snap, tell him to think at some other time, not at three in the morning. He remembered suddenly with awful clarity, Aslan, and himself trying to explain how it was that his own younger brother had left them for the Witch.
He rolled over and opened his eyes sleepily.
"Christmas is so lovely here, what were you thinking, brother mine?"
Edmund smiled and Peter felt overcome with a rush of happiness that he had listened.
"Peter, I was thinking, Father Christmas came last year for you and the girls but that was special wasn't it for the ending of the Winter? I mean he doesn't actually come every year does he?"
"I don't know Ed, I hadn't thought of it really."
"If he doesn't come, I want to do something for the girls instead. Mother and Father used to for us."
"It will be too late though, we can't make something between now and the morning if he doesn't."
"Twelfth night!"
"What?"
"We could finish something by twelfth night, you know Three King's Day. It seems appropriate."
"By Jove so it is. That is brilliant!"
Peter reached out and clasped his brother by the arm.
"So what should we get for them?"
The girls had not even noticed when Peter had slipped out to pay a visit to one Thornthump, a dwarfsmith known far and wide for his goldwork as his brother Thornbut was known for his skill in battle.
And they had been so caught up in playing with a litter of newborn tiger cubs that they had missed Edmund in earnest conversation with a Hanel, a faun known just as well for his woodcarvings.
They reached the stairs without mishap (Susan waking up and wondering where they were) and sped towards the Great Hall where the tree loomed, shining faintly with silver and gold tracery in the moonlight.
"You have them?"
"Of course! And you?"
"Naturally"
They fumbled together for a moment in the dim light before laying down their burdens and leaving as silently as they had come, never noticing the dim shadows that had slipped away a moment before them or two more dark shapes beneath the tree.
"Peter! Edmund! Wake up!"
It was Lucy alternating between both doors, her voice merry and excited.
They stumbled out, still blinking the sleep from their eyes. Lucy's golden hair was dancing and her grey eyes were bright and alert.
"Don't you need to sleep, Lu?"
"Yes, but do come down! The Hall is simply glorious and the fauns cooked specially for Three King's Day."
They followed her down, shooting each other triumphant glances as Lucy and Susan, who had just stood and smiled while Lucy talked and laughed, led the way.
"What is that under the tree…?" started Edmund as planned only to stop in surprise when he saw what actually rested beneath the fir boughs.
All four siblings ran forward, for all the world like the children that they still were.
"I say, what's this? There are four carvings!" said Peter confusedly.
"Susan! There is one for me!"
"And me also, Lu!"
They stood together for a moment, staring. Four identical wooden carvings stood in a row, all shaped into the likeness of a lion. The wood was silky and honey colored, gleaming almost golden in the morning light.
"Open it…" four voices began simultaneously.
"Oh…"
"It is so beautiful…"
"But how?"
"This is impossible."
Edmund looked down at the cold metal in his hand, dwarf-wrought steel in the form of a lion rampant. Beside him Peter, Susan and Lucy stared in wonder, the small, silvery medals clasped tightly. The only difference that any of them could see was in the chains. The boys' were fine, steel cable, strong and simple while the girls' were delicate but no less strong, in the complicated rope style.
"Turn them over" Edmund said suddenly. The backs were smooth and polished save for a single flowing line of script.
"CUM ILLO AUTEM OMNIA POSSIBILIA SUNT" whispered Peter, "It took Ed and I forever to come up with that…"
"How could we all possibly think of the same words?" finished Susan.
"I am still wondering how we even remembered any Latin after a year here…" said Edmund.
"With Him all things are possible" translated Lucy, "Isn't it obvious…"
Edmund smiled at Peter, "I think perhaps we did not come up with it at all…"
"We should put them on…" said Susan softly, slipping it over her neck so that it rested next to her heart.
Lucy and the boys followed her example feeling unexpectedly solemn as the medals vanished beneath their shirts and dresses.
"When did you think of it?" asked Peter as they sat down to breakfast.
"Christmas Eve" answered Susan, "Lucy came in at about three in the morning with a plan if Father Christmas didn't come…"
The Latin phrase is almost a direct quote from Matthew 19, I changed it slightly to better fit my purpose so most of the Latin can be attribute to St. Jerome…
For those who aren't familiar with it, Three King's Day or Epiphany celebrates the three Wise Men bringing gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh to the Christ Child and officially ends the High Christmas season. There is an old tradition of a King's Cake at the feast that I fully intend to utilize in another fic someday…maybe at a more Christmassy time!
If you want to know where the dancing/decorating came from...I was listening to the Lewis Bridal Song (also called Maire's Wedding) by the Corries. And of course please review and tell me what you think, whether "your Latin is terrible" in which case I'll direct you to St. Jerome or "I liked it" in which case you may steer clear of the good saint (who spent many years trying to control his temper) :)
Shire Rose