Disclaimer: The Chronicles of Narnia, all characters, places, and related terms belong to C.S. Lewis. I own Sarah, Erik, and the plot.
Author's Note: A simple fluffy (early) holiday fic for you all! Digory is 13, Polly 12. Feedback is welcomed.
---
Mischief and Mistletoe
The house of the Plummer family was nearly overflowing with holiday guests. The Christmas Eve party was in full swing. Candles gave the house a heavenly glow. Holly and ivy and evergreens hung from the walls, wrapped around the banisters, and draped over the fireplace mantels. Several tables were set up in the dining room, the legs of the tables almost groaning under the weight of the many dishes of food. A large decorated Christmas tree stood in the center of the drawing room.
The musicians had paused in their playing for the moment, thus bring the dancing to a temporary finish. Most of the adults wandered from the drawing room to the dining room for some refreshment. Some remained behind, sitting before the fire and exchanging news.
All the children had gathered in the sitting room, supervised by several younger children's nurses. The girls sat together in a circle showing off their new dolls to each other. The boys were a bit too rowdy, and they would on occasion be hushed by the nurses.
"Are you not a little disappointed with your doll, Polly?" asked Sarah, one of her cousins, softly when the room had become quiet once more.
"Aye, it is not even…a girl!" another murmured.
"No, he is perfect!" Polly answered, gazing fondly on the doll she cradled in her arms.
Her friends leaned in for a better look. The doll was dressed in the attire of a simple schoolboy. A mass of dark brown curls framed a round rosy face. A pair of piercing eyes stared warmly up at the girls, and a slight smile touched the boy's mouth.
"How is he perfect?" Sarah asked, frowning slightly.
"He…just…is," was all Polly could come up with for an answer. She couldn't explain why her doll was perfect when she herself did not know the answer. Maybe, if she took time to think about it, it was because the doll was Digory's Christmas present to her; or maybe it was because the doll resembled Digory…
The others shook their heads and returned their attention to their own dolls.
The contented peace was broken, however, when Sarah's older brother, Erik, decided to create some mischief since the nurses had left the room for the moment. After whispering and snickering with three of his friends, he wandered over to where the girls sat. Sneaking up on them unnoticed, he quickly snatched his sister's and Polly's dolls from their arms. They gasped in surprise.
"Erik!" Sarah cried, glaring daggers at her brother, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.
Polly jumped to her feet, followed closely by the girls. She willed herself to be calm and not let her cousin get to her.
"Erik, may we have our dolls, please?" she asked politely, a sweet little smile on her face.
The boy only laughed in her face and waved the dolls carelessly about by their heads, causing the girls to caution him to be careful and as they watched him helplessly, horrified, while his friends roared with laughter and encouraged him.
"You want your dolls?" Erik said to his sister and cousin. He waved them in front of the two girls' faces. "Come and get them!"
Immediately following these words, the boy laughed loudly and proceeded to lead them on a wild chase about the room. Sometimes he slowed so that the girls were close enough to grab the back of his jacket, and then he jumped out of their reach; thus he took great delight in taunting the poor girls. At times he would show off to the other children, jumping high in the air – once over the armchair! – flipping one or both dolls in the air, catching them, and succeeding in staying ahead of the girls.
Eventually Erik carelessly tossed away his sister's doll, which luckily one of the girls caught; but he held onto Polly's. So she continued to give chase. Once when Erik looked over his shoulder at his cousin, he suddenly tripped. Polly and the girls shrieked in horror as the doll flew out of the boy's hand. It landed unharmed in another boy's grasp. Polly was all set to have to fight to get her doll back, but to her surprise the boy simply handed it to Digory, who stood nearby. Digory straightened the doll's clothes and hair before he walked to Polly and handed her doll carefully to her.
She grasped her doll tightly to her chest and nodded her thanks, still out of breath from all her running to be able to speak. She was about to return to her friends when one of the younger boys gaped at her and Digory, his mouth hanging open.
"Couple under the mistletoe!" he exclaimed, pointing above their heads.
All eyes looked up to discover the lad was not lying. Polly flushed to the roots of her hair, and Digory shuffled his feet, his cheeks also turning a rosy red.
"Well, it is tradition," another boy snickered.
"Surely you don't have to," a girl said. "Only the adults kiss under the mistletoe."
"They are stuck under it until they kiss," Erik objected.
"They are not!" Sarah retorted.
An argument broke out amongst the children.
"We do not have to do it!" Digory's voice rose above the others. He shyly met Polly's gaze. "Mistletoe is a tradition the adults do, really."
She nodded in agreement and said, "Yes," in a shaky voice. She watched her friend quickly look away, catching a short glimpse of something akin to dissatisfaction on his face. Was Digory disappointed at her response?
"Chicken…" Erik's stage whisper reached her ears. This time she flushed in anger. She looked coolly at her cousin.
"I'll show you…" She turned back to Digory and, before she could talk herself out of it, kissed him on the cheek. Pulling back, she flashed a definite, victorious look to all present. "There!" she announced firmly. She quickly joined her friends, who were whispering and giggling.
Erik opened and closed his mouth soundlessly, not knowing whether to mock his cousin or admit being impressed. He simply shook his head, speechless. One boy ventured toward Digory, who remained frozen where Polly had left him, a stunned expression on his face.
"Got your Christmas wish?" the boy teased Digory, chuckling as they watched Polly and her friends beat a hasty retreat.
Digory shook his head slightly. "I just might have," he mused to his friend, subconsciously touching his cheek. "Just might."
THE END