Advent Week 1: Hope. Listen to someone who needs it the most.
The first snow since they've come to Narnia. Peter looks up into the sky, the clouds gray, the sun struggling to peak through. A snowflake falls onto his cheek. He looks back ahead of him. He's been out all week, struggling to assure the Narnians that winter is important –a necessary and inevitable part of nature. The Witch isn't back and this winter isn't forever. Just another season. It will pass, in time, and the Narnians are prepared for winter, better prepared than they've ever been to weather a winter together. At Christmas, Peter hopes to restore their spirits fully. Now there's just too much apprehension. He met a lot of anxiety in Narnia today, a lot of apprehension, a lot of mistrust –because of the winter quickly approaching, because Peter is so young (barely fifteen, far too young to be a king), because Susan and Lucy and Edmund didn't come with him, because Edmund –still –is looked at as a harbinger of winter and he's sitting all warm and cozy in Cair Paravel without a care in the world.
Cair Paravel sits high and noble, shining, ahead of Peter and he lets out a sigh of relief. After a year, Cair Paravel is starting to feel like home, and he knows that his brother and sisters are inside, waiting for him to eat dinner. Something warm, Peter hopes, rubbing his frozen hands together wearily. Just a few more minutes until he's home with his siblings, until the troubles of a rapidly freezing Narnia disappear into hot chocolate and warm embraces that Cair has to offer him melt away.
By the time the castle gates close behind him, the snow is falling steadily, a thin layer already sprinkled over the frostbitten grass. He leave boot prints in the fine snow, and shakes snowflakes out of his hair once he's inside.
Before he even takes off his gloves, Lucy is upon him, her arms around his waist, her head against his chest, each day a little higher. She pulls back as suddenly as she came, staring up at Peter with her bright, blue eyes, her hands on her hips, her lips pursed. She is silent until Susan appears from around the corner, laughing slightly, reminding Lucy that they "can't very well stand in the entryway," with Edmund in tow, dragging his feet.
Lucy ignores her and waits for Susan to give Peter a hug. Once Susan has Peter by his (still very cold) hand to lead him into their private dining room, Lucy takes the other, swinging it back and forth. "Susan said that it's too early to decorate for Christmas," Lucy babbles. Peter makes eye contact with Susan. It's the same conversation that Lucy has had with their parents for years. "But I know it's not. The first snow. We can decorate for Christmas now, can't we, Peter?" Lucy is all but begging. Peter rolls his eyes.
"I'm afraid it is too early, Lu, I'm sorry," he says, sitting down at the table. Lucy sits next to him without breaking eye contact. Susan and Edmund sit on the other side of the table. Susan smiles into her soup; Edmund scowls at his. "But we can get the biggest tree you've ever seen and put it in the great hall," Peter concedes. "And you can decorate the whole castle," he adds. He looks at Susan and Edmund across the table. "The Narnians are pretty worried about the winter, of course, but I think a very festive Christmas ought to do the trick," Peter suggests. "I was thinking about it on my way home, a party or something, to remind them that the winter will be over, one day."
Susan nods approvingly. "I think that's a lovely idea, Peter," she says.
The snow is falling more heavily now. Peter can see it out of the window behind her. The window overlooks the sea, as stormy and gray as the sky, the beach empty. He is warm now, confident, happy about his decision to help the Narnians, happy to be with his family.
Later Peter is walking along with Tumnus. He is just as anxious as every other Narnian that Peter has spoken to today, but he is trying to hide it. Tumnus is inviting them all to have tea with him someday soon, or at least to visit him for Christmas, and Peter is sharing with him his very early plans to have some sort of gala on Christmas for all Narnians to come to, if they like, when Tumnus stops suddenly and sighs. "He'll catch a cold standing out there in the snow," Tumnus tuts and shakes his horned head.
"Who?" Peter asks, turning to look where Tumnus is looking. He sees Edmund, standing on a balcony overlooking the sea, watching the snow coat the beach, staring at where the surf washes away the freshly fallen snow. Piles of snow are gathering on Edmund's shoulders, and his hair is shimmering in the dusk with snowflakes, melting slowly.
Peter turns back to Tumnus. "Would you excuse me, Mr. Tumnus," Peter says awkwardly.
Tumnus bows. "Of course, sire," he says with an equally as awkward bow. Peter waits until he can't hear Tumnus' hoofs clicking against the tile anymore to go outside to his brother, where Edmund is tracing patterns in the snow on the railing.
Peter clears his throat. Edmund doesn't look up from his drawings, but he stops running his fingers through the snow on the railing. Instead he buries his read fingers in his robes. Peter stands next to him, examining Edmund's drawings. Only squiggles.
"What are you doing out here?" Peter wonders, looking at the surf, at the patterns the sea is making in the snow where it meets the land.
"Thinking," Edmund grunts.
"You can think inside, you know," Peter tells him. Edmund shrugs, and the snow on his shoulder falls to the ground. Peter tries again. "You all right?"
"No," Edmund mumbles. "I hate to be cold." Peter fights a laugh to point out that Edmund doesn't have to be cold, at least in this instance. Edmund might be his kid brother, but he's perfectly rational and certainly is aware that the castle is much warmer. "I wish it wouldn't snow," Edmund continues. "It's easier to forget her when it's warm."
"The Witch?" Peter asks lightly. He spent a lot of time thinking about her today. It is much easier to forget all about her when the sun is shining and he's sweating buckets and all the flowers are blooming.
Edmund nods. "I know that it's just…winter…but, every time I see the snow, I think that it's going to go on forever and ever, like she wanted it to." Edmund shivers, but Peter doesn't think it's because of the cold. "I think she's kicked Aslan out again, that she'll keep Aslan out again."
"Always winter, never Christmas," Peter whispers without thinking. Beside him, Edmund nods seriously.
"Always winter, never Christmas," he repeats.
Peter traces Edmund's patterns on the railing, clearing out the new snow that's fallen. Just scribbles. "Maybe…" Peter says thoughtfully. "Maybe it isn't too early to decorate for Christmas. I haven't quite got a handle on this Narnian calendar yet, but Christmas must be quite close. We might as well pick out a tree."
Edmund looks at Peter. He is trying very hard to look disinterested, but he can't hide the excited gleam from his eyes, or fight the corners of his mouth from looking something like a smile. "A big one, right?" Edmund asks. "Not some puny tree, but a great, big tree. As big as…" he gestures with his hands, "this balcony?"
Peter rolls his eyes. "I'll try my best," he says. "Let's go inside, Ed. It's freezing out here." Edmund nods, and follows Peter off of the balcony, back inside, where it's warm, where any thought of the Witch is driven out with Lucy, chattering to Susan down the hall about her plans for the holiday.
A/N: Hope you all had a good Thanksgiving (or a good Thursday if you aren't American), and are looking forward to a great Advent and holiday season. I've been listening to Christmas music since November 1, and I am so ready! I'm going to do FOUR of these, little oneshots as an advent calendar kind of thing. I'll be posting (hopefully) on Sundays of Advent. They will definitely be winter themed, and probably Christmas themed! I hope you enjoy!