Disclaimer: The Chronicles of Narnia, all characters, places, and related terms belong to C.S. Lewis.
Dedicated: Christmas present for Sentimental Star and chaospockets.
Fitted for Heaven…and Earth
Peter lies on his back, next to the seemingly towering Christmas tree. He gazes up at the twinkling lights and decorations. Susan will often watch the tree for hours, mesmerized by all the colors and different ornaments. But the boy does not draw as much pleasure from the tree.
He loves when his mother sings Christmas carols. She has a pretty voice, and though he does not understand the meanings of the songs, he enjoys listening to them. Sometimes he tries to sing along with her, but it does not work.
Mrs. Pevensie always smiles and kisses his cheek. "In time you shall be able to sing them, too," she assures him.
The little boy turns his face from the tree. Mother sits on the living room couch knitting. Her smile is full of quiet contentment as she sings softly: "Away in a manger, no crib for a bed, the little Lord Jesus laid down His sweet head. The stars in the sky looked down where He lay, the little Lord Jesus, asleep on the hay."
She is not as tired or worried as she had been. She is now more at ease, joyful, her smile reaching her eyes.
Peter follows her gaze when she glances to the still form beside her. Edmund is wrapped protectively in his blanket. His cheeks are rosy, and he is chubby.
"The cattle are lowing, the Baby awakes, but little Lord Jesus, no crying He makes; I love Thee, Lord Jesus, look down from the sky and stay by my cradle till morning is nigh." Mrs. Pevensie's voice fills with tenderness, and her eyes soften.
From his place on the floor Peter can only see his brother's little nose poking out from his cover.
Edmund had come very early and had stayed at the hospital for two weeks before he was brought home. He was frighteningly small and light. He cried a lot, and Mother was always tired and worried. Often she and her husband took Edmund to the doctor.
Mr. Pevensie tried to explain to Peter why he and Susan could not play with their baby brother yet, not until he was stronger and bigger, like Susan had been when Peter first met her. The boy did not understand, but he was aware of the underlying uncertainty and worry that settled in the house. Many times Peter would watch Edmund sleep in his crib, his breathing soft and the covers over him rising lightly.
One night Mother had cried very hard, wondering about Edmund, if he might leave them.
Sneaking into his brother's room, clinging to the bars of the crib while he watched his brother sleep, Peter begged him not to go away.
That had been three months ago.
Now Edmund has been growing bigger, and he is no longer pale. And the doctor and Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie are no longer worried. Peter and Susan now can play with their brother, though carefully under their parents' watchful gazes.
The three-year-old sits up and crawls over to the couch. His eyes on the baby, he gets to his feet a little unsteadily. Peter discovers his brother is not sleeping as he thought. Edmund has one of his fingers in his mouth. He gazes at his older brother with narrowed dark eyes. The suspicion does not leave when Peter smiles at him.
Slowly, Peter reaches his hand out towards his brother. Edmund regards the offered hand for a moment before grasping Peter's index finger, instead of knocking his hand away with his fist as usual. He tugs on it, causing his brother to laugh. Edmund's eyes are clear and bright when he looks into Peter's blue ones.
Watching her sons out of the corner of her eye, Mrs. Pevensie's heart swells. She finishes the song in a threadbare whisper, "Be near me, Lord Jesus, I ask Thee to stay close by me forever, and love me, I pray; bless all the dear children in Thy tender care, and fit us for Heaven to live with Thee there."
THE END
