Disclaimer: My fanfictions are on the same level as a ten-year-old's attempts to replicate a Rembrandt painting. Just for the record.
Shout-out to: two friends who have recently got engaged to each other; may they see many Christmases more together.
Thank you to: WillowDryad for providing me the pleasure of reading such good fanfics over the past couple years and for having so generously (however warily ;-) ) allowed me to borrow one of her OCs without knowing which one I was borrowing or for what purpose. It was a great risk on her part and I hope I've done the character some justice. So... Merry Christmas, Willow.
Author's note: This fic is meant to fit into WillowDryad's fanfic chronology after the events of her "Wind's Harvest".
She grasped the paper in her fingers and looked all about her. This can't be right. Despite having lived at Cair Paravel for quite some time and the simplicity of the map she held, the hallway in which Linnet found herself was unfamiliar and did not seem to fit in with the directions she had been given. She would have allowed herself the faint embarrassment of asking someone for assistance – even risked revealing whatever surprise was apparently in store – but there was no sign of anyone in the vicinity. It was Christmas Day, after all, and early, thanks to Edmund having awoken herself and his fellow sovereigns at dawn with that little golden bell of his – a tradition, apparently, from the Other Place.
Linnet retraced her steps until she was sure her surroundings matched the map, but when she tried to follow it again, it was only to return to the same, unfamiliar hallway. This time, however, she realized that the hallway did not lead to a dead end as she had assumed before. She lifted her skirts and trotted to the hallway's end to the half-hidden opening to a corridor. I do hope he hasn't been waiting long. She quickened her steps as the map led her down the corridor, through an empty guest room, up a few service stairs, and then into a small sitting room.
A warm fire and its almost-sweet smell greeted Linnet the moment she walked in to the quietly furnished room, its only trimmings being a few boughs of holly and a fine, silver tea service upon the table. But for all the contrast of the cheery fire against the snow outside the window or of the holly against the whitewashed stone hearth, her eyes had been immediately drawn to the man who stood by the fire, leaning with his arm against the mantelpiece: for he was magnificence against the humble setting and yet also, equally simply, Peter.
"You made it."
"I hope you weren't waiting long, my lord."
Peter smiled and took her hand. "None of that, Linnet. Right now, right here, I'm just Peter." She returned his smile and allowed him to lead her to the divan while she tried to think of something to say. "How did you enjoy the book?" he asked.
She turned her eyes on him in surprise but immediately caught the teasing twinkle they held. "Oh, immensely. I cannot wait to finish the story."
Peter was pouring two cups of tea, but he looked up to feign hurt. "My lady, if your book is as engaging as that, I will not detain you any further."
She smoothed her wine-red skirts over the creamy cushions. "I rather like the path it has taken."
"And what path is that?"
Linnet accepted the teacup Peter offered her and took a tentative sip, but Peter had draped an arm over the back of the divan and was searching her eyes with the intensity she knew so well. She leaned back to be closer to him. "I had thought the story would be one of history long past, but a little page fell out and onto my lap and instead revealed a present mystery. The journey has been most intriguing."
A smile played at the corner of his mouth. "Then have you solved the mystery?"
His eyes were only inches away. "You tell me."
They sat like that a moment longer before he chuckled and produced a box no larger than the palm of his hand from his pocket. "Well, since my note led you here, it's only fair I give you this in return."
Surprised, Linnet sat up again, set down her cup, and untied the pale blue ribbon and lifted the lid of the box. Inside, cushioned in folds of forest green velvet, lay the likeness of a lion cast in crystal. In wonder, she gently lifted it from the box to examine it closer, then, having discovered the silver thread that hung from a little ring on the ornament, held it up so the flickering light from the hearth danced in the crystal face. "Oh, Peter, it's beautiful!" she breathed. He said nothing, but she read the pleasure in his eyes. Once the ornament was safely nestled in its bed again, she gave him a sly glance. "So this was what you wanted to meet in secret for?"
Peter closed the box and took her hand. She noticed that his thumb brushed along her ring. The one he gave her when he proposed. "I might have given it to you this morning with everything else, but I wanted this to be special, just between us."
She leaned back, nestled against the arm he had stretched behind her. "Another tradition?"
"I hope so. With all the preparations and courtly duties and gifts and feasts – and Edmund waking us all at an unearthly hour with that deuced bell of his –, I just wanted a quiet moment away from it all. Just you and me."
His eyes were so serious, so clear, and so very blue, especially when he leaned toward her. It was all she could do to meet him halfway and whisper, "I'd like that."
Author's note 2/ quick self-promotion: If you don't know what's up with Edmund and the bell, I explained it in last year's Christmas fic, "With You In Spirit".
Please review!
Have yourself a merry little Christmas and may the Lord bless you and yours as He carries you into the new year!