Disclaimer: I've never even been in England, whatever makes you think I own anything there?
Beta'd by trustingHim17!
OOOOO
"Susan!" Lucy called as she shut the front door behind her with one foot, "I have the broken glass!"
"Wonderful, what colors did you find?" Susan called back from the living room.
"The church on Baker Street got hit. The priest said I could take anything left over from their windows, so-"
"So you have every color," Susan rejoiced, suddenly framed in the door. Lucy stopped, her breath catching. For a moment Susan's grace, her stance, her voice rang through stone halls and made them rise around Lucy. Her sister stood as beautiful as a Narnian star but as gentle as a Robin's wing.
Lucy blinked. She scolded herself internally, setting aside the sudden longing and firmly rebuking the sudden jealousy that whispered it wasn't fair.
"How long till Mum comes home?" Lucy asked as she set down her basket. Susan's gentle fingers were suddenly on the threadbare shoulders of Lucy's coat, helping her little sister take it off and then hanging it up for her.
"Not for another hour; we should have more than enough time," Susan reassured. "Come see what I've done!" She gathered Lucy's basket with one hand and swept into the living room. Lucy looked after her with a smile, love banishing the last hint of jealousy. Susan could be their home's angel, beautiful in ways Lucy wasn't, but her older sister also shared that beauty, multiplying it. The moment she found the pine branches in their firewood pile, she'd begun planning. She managed to stretch their firewood out, hiding the branches till today. Today, with Edmund and Peter at school and Mum working, she and Lucy began their Christmas surprise.
Since returning from the country, all four had struggled to lift the loneliness settling on their Mum's face during the moments she didn't speak. Susan's gift for decorating, for creating beauty that pierced and lifted up hearts, was at the core of their latest attempt.
Lucy walked into the living room and again caught her breath. Susan had outdone herself.
She'd woven tiny garlands from the most broken of the pine branches—though the garlands were thin, she'd brightened them with the red ribbons the maids had given in the country. Lucy's heart rebuked her; Susan had sacrificed her own hair ornaments for the Pevensie Christmas, using them to decorate the mantel.
"There wasn't enough for the stairs," her voice said from the side of the room, and Lucy looked over to see the sad smile Susan gave to the greenery.
"But there's enough for in here. Mum will love resting in her chair now," Lucy consoled her. "And I love the red and green, it looks like home."
"Home had a lot more color and much grander branches."
"But this will be enough to make Mum smile," Lucy said, determined to cheer Susan up, "and now we have the glass!"
"And it will be perfect," Susan agreed, her smile losing the sadness. She opened the cover and looked in, selecting one of the largest pieces, a brilliant blue color. She set it carefully to the side of the lantern on the mantel before looking back in the basket and pulling out a scarlet piece. The glass altered the light of the lantern, casting color all over the room.
"What else are we going to do?" Lucy asked, looking around.
"I found some paper too wet to work for recycling, but I think we can still fold it into stars. And I found some green thread ends." Susan gestured with one hand towards a stack of wrinkled, spotted paper sitting on the small side table. "Would you mind? I thought you could add some of the shapes the Owl librarian taught you."
"Happily," Lucy said, plopping into the chair beside the paper. "Flowers, stars, flutes, and birds to decorate our lovely tree—anything else I should create?" Susan shook her head, already lining the glass pieces up with each other, and Lucy smiled. Susan loved creating beauty, and Lucy admitted she'd learned that from Susan. Though...Lucy glanced at the Christmas "tree" and winced. Most fallen trees were dedicated to the war effort, so Peter and Edmund had made the family's from logs stacked on top of each other, adding branches factories discarded as too small to burn. Their Mum had covered her mouth and taken moments to recover when she first saw it, but she smiled every time she passed the door and saw it.
Lucy took the rustling paper, yellowed and ink-stained, and carefully chose the clearest side. She folded it in half, pressing the line clean. Under her breath, she began singing one of the songs with which the mermaids pierced starlit nights.
A few moments later, as Lucy folded the last crisp edge and stuck a needle through the top, Susan's clear voice joined Lucy's. Lucy felt her own lips turn up in a smile. She let her own voice ring clearly through the room, joining Susan's silver soprano, and bent over the next piece of paper, her lips still smiling.
The next hour passed quickly, and each time Lucy brought a paper figure to the tree, she smiled more. The tree began to look less like a half-goblin Dryad and more like a work of art. Susan glued ribbon loops to some of the prettier pieces of glass and added a lace border around them before hanging them on the tree as well.
"It's lovely!" Lucy exclaimed, stepping back from hanging the last paper rose. Susan turned and looked at the tree with her own smile.
"Yes, it is. Help me hang this mistletoe?" She held out the small sprig she held in her hand.
"Where is that going?" Lucy asked curiously.
"Over Mom's chair." Susan stepped carefully up onto said chair. "Just in case Dad makes it home," she whispered.
"Or so Peter and Edmund have to kiss her on the cheek," Lucy added with a smile, but she blinked to keep the water from her eyes. She handed Susan the hook, and held her sister's legs to help steady her.
"Or so we can," Susan agreed. She stepped down, Lucy letting her go. "There! Do you think it will make Mother smile?"
Lucy looked around the room, taking the garlands, glass, and paper. "Not quite," she said suddenly. "Susan, what if we hung stars from the ceiling as well?"
"Like the Great Hall on the night of the stars," Susan whispered. "But we haven't enough ribbon to hang them. If we hung the stars from thread, they'll blend into the ceiling; we need color to draw the eye up. Perhaps if I cut the rest of my ribbon into scraps…" Her eyes flicked to the mantel, and she frowned. "No, we haven't enough."
"I have some! Ivy gave me some, when we went away, as thanks for helping her trap the hares and feed them clover. I'll be right back." Lucy raced up the stairs. Part way up, she realised, suddenly, that the room to the right of the stairs was home, as much as Narnia had been. Home, because she shared it with Susan; home, because love dwelt here. Love for their mother, and their brothers, and each other. She scooped up the ribbons laying in the top drawer and ran back downstairs again.
"Do we have time?" she asked breathlessly, rushing in to see Susan seated by the paper. Three stars already lay beside her clever fingers.
"Perhaps, if we just hurry! Here," and Susan shoved a part of the pile towards Lucy, "you fold. You're better at it, and I'll loop the ribbons." Lucy smiled, seeing the challenge lifting Susan's spirits as well, and handed the ribbons over willingly.
"Race you?" she asked.
"Lucy! This must be done well, not…" Susan trailed off. "Oh, very well. Race you!" She grabbed up the first of the four ribbons and the scissors, cutting off a sliver of blue. Lucy ducked her head, still smiling, and bent over her work. No matter how quickly she bent the paper into clean lines, Susan's hands held another loop of ribbon and the glue pot ready. They'd made nine when a voice interrupted them.
"What's this, then?" came the sharp question. Susan shrieked and looked up, and Lucy shoved her chair back.
"Edmund!" Susan scolded, looking quickly back at her fingers and wiping a glob of glue off the ribbon.
"Sorry, sorry, I just saw the paper and thought…"
"Thought?" Lucy prompted, when he trailed off.
"That tree is lovely," he said quietly, having walked a step forward, "and the mantle is very Christmasy."
"Edmund, what did you think?" Susan asked, not letting his former tone go.
"I thought it might be a telegraph from the War Office," he said in a reserved tone. "Silly of me, you'd hardly be making it into stars. Pax?" He smiled winningly at them.
"Pax," Susan responded quietly. "I guess we gave you a larger fright than we had."
"Then, in the spirit of our new sense of peace, perhaps I could help? What are you going to do with the stars?"
"Hang them from the ceiling!" Lucy explained. "Like in the Great Hall."
"A worthy idea. Here, let me grab the stool from the kitchen," Edmund offered. He disappeared through the doorway and came back a minute later, stool in hand, before continuing as calmly as he'd finished, "and I'll stand on it to attach the stars, if you'll bring them to me?" he added, climbing up.
"At once, good King!" Lucy grabbed two stars, careful to hold them by the drying ribbon ends, and held them up as far as her short arms could reach. Edmund took them with a bow, nearly overbalancing on the stool.
"Careful!" came Susan's quick rebuke, and Edmund grinned down at Lucy.
"I'll be as careful as I can, sis, but I'd hardly be a good knight if this task you've given didn't have some danger I was guarding you from by doing it myself."
"Try making it a responsibility rather than a dangerous task, and you'll likely get through it with fewer bruises," Susan responded dryly.
"I'm all for fewer bruises," said a voice from the door, one gradually growing deeper. "Who is threatening bruises?"
"Peter!" Lucy exclaimed.
"Is mother on her way?" Susan asked with alarm.
"I saw the factory getting out on my way home, but I wanted to get home and start dinner for her, so I didn't wait. She should be here shortly, why? Oh, well done, you all!" Peter finished, stepping into the room.
"But we've got more stars to hang before she gets here!" Susan exclaimed.
"Quick, Lucy, grab me another stool. Susan, start handing stars to Edmund; I'll take two, as well. I can put them by the mistletoe and stand on the chair. Hurry, hurry!"
Suiting action to words, Peter stepped on the chair, shedding his boots but not bothering to take his coat off. Susan handed a star to him with one graceful motion and handed another to Edmund. Lucy ran for the stool, ducking to the window to just check and see if Mum was in sight and grinning when she wasn't. With the four of them together, they'd surely be done in time!
She lugged the stool back to the hallway, and Peter stood up from putting his boots away and took it from her with a smile. "Hand me the stars?"
"All the ones I can find," she promised, following him in. Edmund already had half the ceiling covered, and Peter went right to the opposite corner. Lucy carefully gathered two handfuls of stars and went over to him. He smiled as he took two from her.
"Remember the night we decided to decorate Susan's chamber while she decorated the Great Hall?" he asked in undertone. Lucy's face lit with the brightest of smiles.
"She came up so tired. She stood in the doorway and all the tiredness fell away, because she was so happy," Lucy whispered. Susan had looked like the world had just turned golden and warm and set itself in her hands.
"I think you and Susan will see that on Mum's face in just a few minutes. Seriously, Lu, well done."
"We couldn't have done it without you and Ed, not this last bit."
"And what we are doing is our privilege," Peter said. "As is joining in any good deeds." He got down and moved the stool, hopping right back up. "There's the last!" He hung it with gentle fingers, then glanced out the window. "Ed! Quick! I see Mum coming!"
"The stools!" Edmund yelled, jumping down from his own and grabbing it up. In a second, he and Peter disappeared with their wooden stands, only to reappear moments later.
"Quick, around Mum's chair!" Susan instructed, holding out her hands to gather two of them on either side. Lucy slipped around in front of Peter, his hand coming up to rest on her shoulder, and they waited with breathless anticipation.
The minute it took their mother to walk from the street to the front door passed so slowly Lucy was sure Peter must have been mistaken, but then the front door creaked. A moment later it shut with a soft click. Their mother's voice called down the hall, "Susan? Lucy? Are the boys home yet?"
"In here, Mum," Peter answered in his strong voice, and Lucy's smile became irrepressible as she heard footsteps coming down the hall.
"All of…" and their mother's voice died away as she entered the door and saw the tree, the mantel, even glancing up to see the stars.
"Merry Christmas!" chorused the four children. Mrs. Pevensie laughed, the sound half of joy and half of tears. Her hand came up to press her eyes, and when she took it away she laughed again, this time the sound entirely merry.
"Merry Christmas indeed! Oh, it's beautiful! Wherever did you find—is that the discarded paper? My clever children, where did you learn to make these?"
"In the country," Susan answered. She patted the chair. "Come and sit down, mother."
"Here, let me take your coat first," Edmund said, stepping forward to take it off her shoulders.
"Susan and Lucy did most of it," Peter informed her, pushing her gently to sit and kneeling to take off her shoes. Susan unwound the scarf and handed it to Peter to put away with the shoes.
"Are you pleased, mother?" Lucy asked softly.
One strong arm came up to hold her shoulders, pulling her in, and pulling Susan with the other.
"I am so, so pleased," their mother breathed in their ears. "Not just with the beauty, and the decorations—though they are lovely—but with your beautiful, beautiful hearts, that you would do this for others." She kissed Susan's temple, then Lucy's. "Of all the beautiful things in this room, the two of you are the most stunning," she finished, hugging them more tightly for one moment. She moved her hand to Susan's chin. "Your thoughtfulness and kindness are the most beautiful things your face has. And your joy and generosity shine from yours," she told Lucy, the firm fingers lifting up her chin. "I could not have two more beautiful daughters. Thank you—thank you. Merry Christmas." And kissed them once again, under the mistletoe hanging above her chair.