05/30/08-06/01/08
Lullaby
It had been a long few days, what with the Pevensies' discovery of Narnia and all the events from there through the coronation. At last, the four children all lay under the same roof, with nary a care in the world – or so it would seem. Edmund was uncharacteristically quiet and calm since Aslan's resurrection, but was, overall, none the worse for wear from his adventures. All four siblings had gone to bed happy, not neglecting to express their love for one another before climbing into bed. Deep into the night, the only sound to be heard was the soft twitter of nocturnal life.
Peter slept soundly, unusually uplifted by his newly bestowed kingship. Fatigue still possessed him, though slightly abated by the few hours of sleep he had already endured. Suddenly, a sharp cry from the next room pierced the calm, reaching Peter's consciousness. With a jerk, he sat up in bed. It was Lucy. A faint whimpering followed her cry, the only noise in the castle. Barely aware of the protectiveness driving his movements, Peter rushed to her bedside. To his relief, Lucy was still asleep. At least she was not in any real danger.
By the time Peter reached his youngest sister, she was crying in her slumber. The High King sat carefully on her bed next to her, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face. Quietly, he called her name. "Lucy." The whimpering faded, but she did not wake. "Lu, wake up. You're dreaming." The Valiant Queen stirred, tears still streaming down her innocent cheeks.
It took Lucy a moment to gain enough consciousness to recognize her guest. When she did, though, her sobs abated. "Peter," she managed weakly after a moment. "I had the most awful dream. The White Witch – she came after Edmund. She got him."
Just the thought of such a thing did frighten Peter a bit, but he quickly shook it off. "It was just a dream. Edmund is asleep in his own bed, remember?"
"Yes, but… it seemed so real! It's so scary." The girl spoke with tears still in her eyes, her voice half choked up. Her small form trembled as she clung tightly to the covers. Then, in but a whisper, "I wish Mum was here… to sing the lullaby."
Peter, remembering the days when his mother would sing to him to ease his fears, smiled reassuringly at Lucy. "I know I can't sing like Mum, but I remember the lullaby," he offered.
Lucy smiled a bit. "Would you?"
"Of course." Peter found it surprisingly heart-wrenching to remember his mother, yet effortless to act in her place. Gazing lovingly into his sister's eyes, he allowed peace to wash over his being, evident in the face that the younger Pevensie fixed her eyes on. Their relationship as sister and brother only deepened and the girl's tears died out as the boy softly sang. "Dry your tears.. close your eyes.. in the morn.. we will rise.. I'll be here.. by your side.. dry your tears.. close your eyes…sleep." Lucy had taken Peter's hand, if only to assure herself that he was really there. Now, her breathing was even, but Peter was not sure that she was really asleep. He hummed the tune most of the way through again, just in case she needed to hear it again. Before he reached the end, though, exhaustion once again consumed Peter and he fell asleep next to Lucy, safe from all evil.
