Elizabeth Jones 2013 Christmas Special
MERRY CHRISTMAS! Although the next chapter is coming along…well, if I'm entirely honest, rather slowly due to life and laziness (my two greatest enemies that often conspire by their own fire), I just wanted to give you a sweet, little Christmas gift to help your holiday season and also to try and make you all not hate me. It was delightful writing this little piece and I hope to get more pieces like this done soon.
Sleigh bells ring, are you listening? In the lane, snow is glistening. A beautiful sight, we're happy tonight, walking in a winter wonderland.
"No, no, try soprano once again." Elizabeth rolled her eyes but couldn't keep the smirk from her face. Cair Paravel had been decked out fully in beautiful white winter candles and garlands of holly and fresh winter flowers were strung in every corner and above every head of theirs and the sudden smell of roasted nuts and peppermint that filled the palace. Elizabeth's favourite decoration, however, had been the reams and reams of red and white and silver ribbons that had been weaved around the balconies and the window frames, making the entire town look like a gingerbread house. It had filled her with a joy—Christmas Spirit, if you will—that had made her want to sing. Sneaking a glance around the corridor, she was alone. It didn't take long for her to end a verse of Jingle Bell Rock and then of course came The Twelve Days of Christmas, both finished uninterrupted as she took a walk around the castle in her warmest, cosiest dress. Elizabeth was just wondering whether she should grab Edmund and brave the cold snow outside when Nigel stumbled across her in the hallways and her cheerful crooning turned into a singing lesson in an empty hall. Down went the fluffy snood that she had wrapped lovingly around her neck earlier the morning in turn for a platform in a hall towards the back of the castle she had never been in before. If not for her good mood or the gentle snow falling down outside and catching the lanterns, Elizabeth would have tired of him a long time ago.
"What is that noise?" Elizabeth blushed. A small crowd of cleaners were pottering away outside but left them uninterrupted. A year had passed since Elizabeth had lived in the castle and they knew now when not to interrupt their Gracious Lady when she attempted to sing a tune. The young girl had proven to be very shy when it came to singing for some reason, although it seemed the Christmas season was bringing out the best in their Gracious Lady. The same was not happening to her equal who had yet to wander outside and feel the snow crunch under his boots and listen to the carollers in the town down below.
"Lighten up, Ed," Elizabeth called out. The grumpy king stuck his head through the door and wasn't the least bit surprised to see Elizabeth up on a peddle stool in the middle of the room where the candle chandelier reflected into the tiny little gems woven through her hair for yet another feast that night. That was, after all, how Nigel continuously envisaged her. "It's called holiday cheer." Edmund's frown further deepened as he stepped into the room to reply.
"Well, your 'holiday cheer' is having the opposite effect on me and most likely a good deal of the castle. Perhaps you should learn to sing before you try spreading anymore." The fox that followed Edmund around darted from window to window, shutting the heavy drapes so the king wouldn't have to be reminded of his last winter here in Narnia. It was lucky that so many candles had been lit. The room suddenly became much cosier and the young girl itched for an open fire to pop up from one of the walls. Elizabeth smirked widely, determined not to be downtrodden by her friend's mood.
"Don't be ridiculous, Ed, not even Nigel can perform a miracle that big," She laughed loudly. Edmund's frown pulled back just from the tinkling sound of her laughter. While not entirely content (he hadn't been so much as relaxed since snow had touched the ground), he couldn't begrudge the way Elizabeth's face lit up when Lucy announced they were going skating on the lake, or when the palace chef announced she could help decorate a gingerbread model of Cair Paravel or when the knights invited her to their annual hot apple cider festival where she'd stumble back late with a rosy face and clumsy steps. He would hardly admit it, but Ed had requested chestnuts and hazelnuts to be roasted in her rooms for the smell, and a cup of hot chocolate be placed by her bedside every morning ever since the snow fell all for the smile that decorated her face. Elizabeth watched as Edmund slumped against a loveseat that had quickly been carted in for him. Nigel seemed preoccupied talking to a naiad whose crown of flowers had roses—something Queen Susan considered to be her flower—so Elizabeth wandered over to her friend and sat down beside him, knowing the panther would enjoy lecturing the new castle hand for a time. Edmund looked tired. She had been noticing it more and more often lately and a small part of her wished for her favourite time of year to come to a quick, happy end.
"You're singing is ghastly," Edmund announced loudly. Elizabeth rolled her eyes and casually slapped Edmund across the arm without much gusto. It had been happening so often lately that she could barely enjoy it anymore.
"It's still better than yours."
"I don't sing."
"I'm not surprised." Edmund looked up from their bullet-fast banter in surprise. Elizabeth was casually strewn across the couch with the most bored expression decorating her face like one of those gaudy garlands she loved. It was an expression that rarely crossed her face, even when sitting in on a six hour meeting about plumbing regulations along the Archenland border she kept up a polite façade. Even when she relented to play chess she'd keep herself entertained by trying to create a rise out of him but now she looked like she could honestly predict the direction of conversation and wasn't interested in it in the least. Edmund's face crumpled again. His mind whirled through ways to shock her back into being engrossed with him like she usually was.
"Well, I suppose I'm just not up to your calibre but my bath faucets think I'm wonderful." As desired, Elizabeth's eyes shot up to meet Edmund's. Her face grew into a blinding smile and her laughter tinkled along with Edmund's as they sat side by side. The two fell silent while Elizabeth let her head drop onto her friend's shoulders. Only the sound of Nigel's disappointment kept the two company. Edmund tried not to move as it felt like his face was on fire. He was very aware of his shoulder all of a sudden and it began to prickle with discomfort although he didn't know why, and he wouldn't want to for all the books in the world.
"I think you're wonderful too," Elizabeth murmured eventually. She had been toying with the sentence for a while now in her head, just experimenting with the right phrasing and timing to say it. Eventually she had settled on that. No matter how awkward or embarrassing it might have been, it was always nice to hear nice things being said about you, especially at this time of the year. A full smile grew across Edmund's face. His heart warmed at the words.
"I think you're wonderful too, too," He sniggered. Elizabeth snorted but pulled her head from his shoulder and turned to face him again. Edmund ignored the slight disappointment in his stomach but refocused on his friend before the feeling could be identified.
"I'm being sincere here," Elizabeth pushed his shoulder lightly, "We both weren't…shining members of the community when we first came here but you've grown so much in such a short amount of time I'm proud of the man you'll come to be in time." Both had gone silent as they remembered their adventure with the White Witch. Parts of it had faded, some due to hesitance to remember, but both recalled different moments.
Elizabeth pictured making the hard decision of following Edmund and then trying to dissuade him from doing anything stupid to no avail. She remembered relief when they had been found but most of the journey had been filled in with blinding white and a hollowing, crippling fear filled with her shrill screams when she thought Edmund would be killed by her side—the very side he was curled up to as she became entranced within her own memory. She knew the winter had been hard for him and she kept to her vow to remain by his side for as long as she needed to. Sometimes she even crept to sit outside his door at night when she felt like he was having a particularly rough day. He never knew, but it comforted her to be close to him. Sometimes her nerves frayed when reliving the events that had happened but she couldn't even imagine how Edmund was feeling. She knew that he mightn't have worn his heart on his sleeves, but he had one of the biggest, deepest hearts in Narnia. It was part of what made him a great king.
Edmund, however, remembered the first time he had caught a glimpse of her emerald dress in the snow once the storm had lifted. He had been angry to her, but he hadn't felt anything but relief. He remembered as Elizabeth shivered madly as she walked next to him and the looks he kept sending her in case she fell over and hurt herself. The accepting face she wore when he turned her over to the White Witch as a prisoner. How she had been nothing but loyal and steadfast and a light on his adventure. How even when his throat was to be slashed she fought for him. It made him feel as if there was a warmth that remained by his side and in his heart no matter where he wandered throughout life. If there was ever to be a competition for the finest, greatest friend, Elizabeth was the best candidate. A best friend didn't describe how he felt for her. She seemed to be a part of him too strongly, and fit into his life too neatly to simply hold the title friend. Perhaps hero was more fitting?
"I'm serious," Elizabeth snapped them both back to reality when she saw Edmund's rare humble expression cross his face. When it didn't change she continued. "Alright then, can I ask who it was that took off his shirt in the middle of a storm so a sparrow family could have a warm place to put their final egg for the spring? Or how about the thief who had been framed by his step-mother who would have been killed if not for a certain monarch fighting for a just punishment. Or maybe—"
"Are you done?" Edmund's face had blushed red and had suddenly turned very defensive. It reminded Elizabeth why she hadn't brought any of them up until now.
"Just one last one!" She told him quickly. Without giving the bashful Edmund time to argue, she gave her last exhibition of goodness to her king. "Who keeps rebuilding the snow-swan I created under my library's window? The one I told you and you alone I had never been prouder of? The one that Queen Susan and Nigel and all those other nobles wanted to be demolished for the winter snowball fight for the children that mysteriously got moved to a much worse part of the castle?" Edmund opened his mouth to defend himself for that. However, when he met her eyes he found he couldn't avoid certain parts of the truth like he wanted to.
"Peter had a hand in finding the new grounds," He admitted. Elizabeth reached forwards and felt metal blisters on his hands that were only just warming now. She knew without a doubt that Edmund had erected the metal sheeting that kept her snow-swan intact from the harsh weather, the same one she had seen him piece together from pipes and stray sheeting for three hours about a month ago before he fixed its collapsed wings. It was a beautiful gesture for him to do, although a small one, and Elizabeth had cancelled one of her Christmas luncheons in favour of watching her friend with a happy little smile on her face. While he had sworn never to step foot in the snow unless it was absolutely necessary, he had willingly and secretly done it every single day since the first snowfall.
"Well," Elizabeth smirked, "Be sure to pass this on to Peter for me." With that, she leant forwards and kissed Edmund's cheek, however Edmund, startled, turned to see what exactly she thought she was doing and so Elizabeth tagged him on the lips. The boy blushed from head to toe at the gesture while she pulled back and used all her etiquette training to imagine she wasn't bothered by the sudden turn of events.
"Milday," Both children turned to see Nigel sporting the most unusual look on his face that neither one could pinpoint.
"Yes, Nigel?" Elizabeth asked, her face bright pink. She could see out of the corner of her eye that Edmund had turned his head away from her, although she didn't know it was to hide his megawatt smile.
"Lady De Winter is expecting you for your fitting for the Christmas Eve Ball. I believe she said something about glass shoes? You absolutely cannot be late."
"Right," Elizabeth shot up and spared a single glance to her friend. "Well then. See you later, Ed." Elizabeth hesitated before reaching down and engulfing Edmund in a hug. She didn't want things to be between the two of them, although there wasn't a reason why it should be, she told herself fiercely. Edmund stood up and grasped her wrist before she could flee from the room and be consumed in a Christmas haze again.
"Do you want to check on Grosvenor with me tomorrow? After breakfast?" Elizabeth bit down a smile.
"You named my swan?" Edmund huffed, blowing up his chest and rolling his eyes so his friend's head wouldn't swell too much.
"Our swan yes. One of the gardeners told me you called it Steffi," Disdain coated both his face and his voice and he rolled his eyes right back at his friend. Any trace of hesitance was gone in place of the tickling annoyance he usually felt paired with enjoyment.
"Ed, there's nothing wrong with Steffi. Steffi the Swan? It makes sense."
"It doesn't make any sense. 1st century war tactics make more sense than Steffi the Swan, and I don't know how much you know about Kazvin the Defeated, but as his name suggests, he wasn't particularly good at it. That's a stupid name for a swan."
"And what? Grosvenor isn't? I don't want people calling him Grover for a nickname!"
"Lady 'Lizbeth, Lady De Winter is waiting!"
"I am coming," Elizabeth snapped over her shoulder before turning back to Edmund. He would not take her for a fool if she could help it. "Kazvin the Defeated only lost his battle because he upset his wife and she wanted revenge. And, by the way, Kazvin sounds like the type of person who'd actually name a snow-swan something as abysmal as Grosvenor." With a roll of her eyes she stormed out with Nigel on her tail.
"After breakfast, Kazvin!" Edmund reminded her. Elizabeth loftily raised a hand to show that she would meet him there. She ignored the happy, single clap he did to express his joy, but she couldn't continue to overlook the expression on the face of her panther friend.
"Now, that singing lesson could have gone much, much better. We will have to work on that in the future, it's clear we have a lot of work to cover before we can brag about your lovely singing voice to foreign dignitaries—"
"What's on your face?"
"Whatever do you mean?"
"I mean to imply that it's pulling up at the sides with great oddity." Nigel shot her a triumphant, know-all smirk, a look Elizabeth knew all too well.
"I believe they call it a smile in some parts of the world." Elizabeth felt her lips pull up in a tug. It was too good to be true. Her panther friend had smiled for the first time in probably his entire life and, though it hadn't lasted long, both she and Edmund had been witness to it. Although she wasn't sure at what in particular he was smiling at, she knew deep down not to ask. The smile came back for a brief second before Nigel's smirk took over his features once again. "Perhaps you might want to ask Edmund to be your lucky kiss when the Christmas Eve party finishes with fireworks next week." Elizabeth's face went bright red again and she began to stutter. Meanwhile, a very deep portion of her soul admitted that she wouldn't mind that terribly at all. To distract both herself and Nigel from the topic at hand, Elizabeth began to sing quietly under her breath so just the two of them could hear.
When it snows, ain't it thrilling? Though your nose gets a chilling. We'll frolic and play, the Eskimo way, walking in a winter wonderland.
Leave a little present of your own please, and type out the name of your famous Christmas Carol or a few kind words into the review box. Much obliged, with much love, Minus