Chapter 11

1954, London

Lena hurried the girls inside as the snow began to fall harder. They had gotten out of church just in time it seemed. She urged the girls along to change out of their dresses and put on their nightgowns, so they could make the mince pies for Babbo Natale. Meanwhile, Edmund took all the coats and hung them to dry. Then he went up to Lena and wrapped his arms around her waist; she leaned back into his embrace.

"You were lovely tonight," he said softly in her ear.

"Thanks. It feels nice to be able to sing again…without all the other stuff."

"Well, we can still do the other stuff, just you and…" Edmund was cut off by a thump and a wailing.

"Nice thought, Cuore. Maybe next year." Lena smiled and pat his chest as she stepped out of his arms; she knew they'd soon be occupied by another. A second later, Sara came wobbling around the corner, face red with her tears. She bypassed Lena all together and went straight for Edmund. He scooped her up immediately.

"What happened?" Lena asked Meri as she followed her sister around the corner.

"Nothing. She tapped her head on the door and this happened."

"Aw. Did that mean door attack my, Little Princess?" Edmund cooed.

Sara nodded her head, tears still falling as she pulled back the hair from her forehead. Lena could see no evidence of a bump at all, but Edmund kissed it all the same. As though by magic, Sara's tears stopped and she smiled at him.

"Better now?"

"Mmm-hmm" Sara nodded enthusiastically and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.

"Now, what kind of pies do you think Babbo Natale would prefer: fruit or beef?"

"Fute!" Sara exclaimed.

"Well, I think he should have something with more sustenance. I say beef," Meri replied.

"Both it is then."

"But only a few of each; we don't want him filling up on our pies alone. He has many other houses to visit," Lena added.

"A fine suggestion, Mi Amore," Edmund said, leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"May I try some of the sherry this year?" Meri asked.

"Out of the question," Lena replied.

It took them nearly an hour to get the pies ready for Babbo Natale and set out the corn and hay for his reindeer. Sara and Edmund made a mess as they did and had to go change Sara's closes; afterwhich, they all settled in by the fire with their cups of hot chocolate and listened to Edmund as he read the Christmas story from the family Bible.

1950, Netherlands

I'll be home for Chrismas

If only in my dreams

There was a spattering of applause as Lena finished singing and left "stage." She saw Edmund standing nearby, smiling, with two cups and a bag of food in hand. They had been traveling to London when a blizzard forced their plane to make an emergency landing. They were now stranded on Christmas Eve in a small airport in the Netherlands. Before Lena could reach Edmund, an old woman stopped to talk to her. Lena couldn't understand what the woman was saying, but she caught the gist of it from her smile and hand movements.

"Grazie, Signora; grazie," Lena said in return. The woman smiled and nodded and moved on.

"I think you have a new fan," Edmund said.

"A what?"

"A fan, an admirer, someone who enjoys your singing," he explained.

"Oh. That's a strange term for it. Why not just say admirer?"

"It' short for fanatic."

"I don't think I want any fanatics following me around."

Edmund smiled. "Come on, let's find a place to sit; I've got us Christmas dinner." They found a couple of chairs nearby, but they would have to use their laps as tables. Edmund set their drinks in an empty chair beside him before digging through the bag of food.

"Now, for our main course of Christmas turkey, we each have a turkey and cheese sandwich." He handed her an almost day-old sandwich sealed in plastic. "They didn't have any cranberry sauce so would you prefer an apple or a slightly browning banana?"

"The apple I guess unless you want it."

"You can have it; I had my share of apples in Narnia. For dessert, we have a cup of Christmas pudding. At least, I think it's Christmas pudding; that's what the label said, but it doesn't really look like it to me."

"I'm sure it will be fine."

"Well, if it's not we've got this to wash it down with." He picked up the cups with excitement.

"Airport wine?" Lena asked skeptically, and slightly hopeful.

"Even better. Hot chocolate."

"Hot chocolate? Why would someone want to drink liquid chocolate?" She wrinkled her nose.

"No, it's powdered chocolate mixed with water or milk—it's better with milk—and heated to a toasty temperature. Have you seriously never had hot chocolate before?"

She shook her head.

"Well, I have sorely neglected my duties as an ambassador to this world then. Everyone should have the experience of drinking hot chocolate on Christmas Eve; its tradition. Here, try some, but be mindful to…" Edmund cringed. Lena had taken the cup and taken a mighty gulp from it.

"I's hawt!" she exclaimed tenderly around her burnt tongue.

"Yes. Hence the name hot chocolate," he said, withholding a snicker.

Lena narrowed her eyes at him. "*Cretino," she said; he laughed freely.

"In fairness, I did try to warn you."

"'Here, drink this,'" she mimicked.

"I meant try it with small sips; don't drink half the cup in one go."

"I noticed you have not had any of yours."

"That's because I'm letting mine cool off first." There was a pause. "I could see how that might be viewed as misleading you. Fine." He picked up his cup. "Cheers," he said, then he took a hearty gulp. He coughed and spluttered over the too hot drink.

"There. See," Lena said.

"Yeah, I see. This is awful. Why didn't you tell me it was awful?"

"How was I to know?"

"Ugh! They definitely used water and not milk. I'm not even sure they used chocolate." His face was pinched in disgust. "I will have to make you a proper hot chocolate one day, to remedy this atrocity."

There was a long pause before Lena shyly asked, "*Prometti?"

Edmund looked at her and smiled. "*Promesso."

He took her cup from her and set it on the chair beside him once again. Lena began to muddle her way through the dry bead and her sour apple. Surprisingly enough, their Christmas pudding was the best part of their meal. Outside, the storm raged on.

"I am sorry you have to miss Christmas Eve with your family," Lena said.

Edmund shrugged. "It's all right. I mean…they understand." He looked over at her to see a rather guilty and sullen look on her face. "And I suppose…" he gave a dramatic sigh. "If I had to be stuck in an airport in the middle of a blizzard with anyone well…you wouldn't be on the bottom of the list."

"Oh, *cavolo, grazie mille!" She shoved his arm, smiling. He laughed.

An announcement came over the speakers. "Mr. Edmund Pevensie to the service counter. Mr. Edmund Pevensie, please report to the service counter." The message repeated in a couple of other languages.

"Oh! This must be it. Come on."

He grabbed Lena's hand and led her over to the desk. He showed the attendant his I.D. and she handed over the phone. Edmund spoke quietly through the mouthpiece before turning and holding the phone out to Lena.

"It's for you," he said. "*Buon Natale."

Lena took the phone hesitantly. "Ciao?"

Lena didn't know what to expect when she put the receiver to her ear, but hearing Meri's exclamation of "Mamma" wasn't even in the realm of possibilities.

"Merina, mia dolce!" Tears sprung to her eyes and she could say no more. It didn't matter though, because little Meri spoke enough for the both of them. She told Lena all about how Caterina had taken her to a Christmas Eve service at church, and about the music they sang. And she asked if Lena knew any of those songs and if they could sing them together one day. Lena said nothing could make her happier.

When the attendant came to take the phone back, Lena was sobbing uncontrollably. She was astounded she managed a reasonably coherent 'Ti amo,' before ending the call. Then she turned to Edmund, who was smiling, and threw her arms around his neck.

"Grazie. Grazie," she cried through her tears.

Edmund hugged her back tenderly. "Prego."

The blizzard did not let up as it was expected to, and they had to spend the night there. The flight attendants passed out blankets, but there weren't enough to go around. So, Lena shared hers with Edmund. They sat up against a wall, side by side. Lena drifted off first, her head falling to the side on Edmund's shoulder, and he thought to himself that this was one of the best Christmas' on record.

Narnia

Lena stood on a terrace overlooking a snow-dusted Narnia, a thick shaw wrapped around her shoulders. Winter in Narnia was something Lena never got to fully appreciate. With snow-covered grounds, travel was difficult and prey to hunt was sparse. Miraz usually preferred to stay indoors, which meant Lena stayed indoors. As she looked out at the falling snow, she couldn't help but to admire the simple beauty of it.

"I have a very… important doesn't seem monumental enough… vital perhaps? Paramount?" Edmund broke Lena from her quite, solemn reprieve as he joined her on the terrace.

"Exigent?" Lena offered with a smile.

"Exigent. Nice; I like it. I have an exigent question for you," he said handing her nightly glass of wine to her. "The answer to which, if unsatisfactory, could very well end…" His voice trailed off, as though he wasn't quite sure how to put it into words.

"You feel it too, then?" Lena asked softly. She looked over at him and saw the answer written plainly on his face. She took a sip of wine.

Lena and her daughters had been in Narnia for nearly three months, and things between her and Edmund had become more…familiar yet complicated, which really seemed to sum up their entire relationship in the other place as well. King Edmund wasn't Cuore, and yet there was so much of his personality, so much of what Lena had fallen in love with, that were identical to Cuore's. Lena was hard-pressed to keep the separation between the two; especially when he looked at her a certain way.

"I…I'm not sure what it is I feel, but it's a bit…" Again he seemed at loss, so Lena supplied the answer.

"Wondrous, yet frightening?"

"Frightening?"

"For I am a married woman, but you are not yet a married man."

Edmund nodded, acknowledging the complication silently. They both, however, chose to overlook the complication as usual.

"You had a question for me?" Lena asked, looking back over the terrace and taking another sip.

"Oh! Yes. Uh—Do we drink hot chocolate on Christmas Eve?"

Lena had to laugh at the absurdity of the supposed exigent question. It was that kind of thing that had made her fall in love with Cuore in the first place, and now… with King Edmund.

"Mind you, this is a very serious question," Edmund defended. "Cook needs to know how many cocoa beans to prepare."

"Oh, yes, very serious then." Lena blotted at the corners of her eyes and smiled. "Well then, you better tell her to have enough for three more. It is, what you call, a tradition after all."

"Oh good…" Edmund let his shoulders sag with relief as he exhaled heavily. He leaned on the rail next to her, arms barely touching, his tone turning serious again as he said, "Because I don't think I'm ready for this to end, yet."

Lena felt the constricting of her throat and she bit back tears. His words hit a little too close to her heart. "It'll never end. You…you have to know that. What we have…what we will have… You are my Cuore, my heart, and that can never end."

"Ileana?" He looked at her, noticing the sudden and almost drastic desperation in her voice. "What's…?" He was interrupted by the arrival of Sara and Bea.

"Sara? What are you doing out of bed?" Lena asked.

"Something is wrong, Lady Ileana," Bea said. "She will not sleep."

Sara silently pulled on Lena's dress and asked to be picked up. Lena knew right away that something wasn't right.

"Sara, Topa, what it is?" She picked her up and Sara immediately laid her head on Lena's shoulder. Lena could feel the heat pouring off of her. "Sarina, *stai bruciando." She pushed back Sara's hair and kissed her forehead. "Dio mio!"

"What? What is it?" Edmund asked, his concern for Sara taking precedence over whatever Lena may have been hiding earlier.

"She has a fever," Lena explained.

"What can I do?"

"We need to bring it down: a cold bath, a wet towel. Is there anything your healer might have?"

"I…I don't know. I'll go and get her; we'll meet in you Sara's room. In the meantime, Friend Bea, see that Lena has everything she needs to help with Sara." Then he leaned in and kissed Sara's forehead. "Don't worry, Little Princess. We'll have you feeling better in no time."

A few hours later, Sara was only marginally better. She'd been placed in a cold bath, had cold towels placed on her head, and she'd been given bark of the willow tree by the Dryad. Sara was now sleeping in her own bed with Lena laying on her side next to her and Bea laying at their feet. Meri had been by to wish her well, Susan and Lucy too. Lucy had brought her cordial, but Lena said it wasn't necessary. Peter popped his head in briefly, but Edmund was the last to visit. Lena knew when he arrived even without Bea's warning.

"How…how is she?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper and laced with worry.

"She'll be all right," Lena said as her hand rubbed circles on Sara's chest. "Her fever has subsided, but her breathing…"

Sara made a wheezing sound.

"…is labored," Lena finished.

"I don't understand, how can you sound so calm right now? I feel anxious, restless, and…ill-equipped to help her."

Lena looked up at him, eyes sharp. "Look at me and tell me I do not feel as you do."

"I…" Edmund stared at her, but he couldn't finish his sentence. He could see the undeniable worry and fear in Lena's eyes, even if her voice did not betray her.

"There, now you see my weakness." Lena turned her attention back to Sara. "It is good that you are here. Take off your shoes. Make yourself comfortable. And lay down."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You will understand once you do it."

Edmund looked to where the Hound lay unmoving. Clearly, she detected nothing untoward in Lena's voice. So, he slowly did as instructed and lay on the other side of Sara. He wasn't sure what to do with his hands; after a bit of shifting, he decided to prop his head up with one hand and took hold of one of Sara's with the other.

"It is never easy to see her like this," Lena said once he was settled.

"Is she sick often?"

"At least once a winter. She was sick on four different occasions when she was four; that was the second-worst winter."

"What was the first?"

"The worst winter was her first winter. There was an incident in London that year; I don't understand how it happened, but they called it smog. Many people got sick, including Sara. She was so tiny, only a month old and she was the sickest she'd ever been. She couldn't breathe on her own, so the healers put her on a new machine that did it for her. You…You don't know fear until your child is at risk of dying." Lena had to wipe away a few stray tears.

"I'm so sorry. I…I didn't know. I can't imagine…" Edmund pinched his eyes shut against the horribleness of it all.

"We were fortunate that winter when so many were not. Young and old alike were affected, but eventually, the clouds lifted; Sara recovered, but she is prone to illness every winter now. It is not a matter of if but when she gets sick, and when she does, we lay with her as we are now as we did then. Listen to her breaths; can you hear the difference?"

There were a few beats of silence as they both listened. "She's not wheezing anymore."

"She knows you are here… Even if you are not you, yet."

"Then, I will stay here… that is if it is all right with you."

"Why else do you think I told you to get comfortable?" Lena smirked faintly. Then she stretched out her arm and lay her head down as she began to sing.

*Fa la ninna, fa la nanna
Nella braccia della mamma
Fa la ninna bel bambin
Fa la nanna bambin bel
Fa la ninna, fa la nanna
Nella braccia della mamma

*Translations

Cretino: Jerk

Prometti/Promesso: Promise?/I promise

Cavolo, grazie mille: geeze, thanks alot

Buon Natale: Merry ChristmasS

Stai bruciando: you're burning up

Italian lullaby: Go to sleep, go to sleepy / In the arms of your mother / Go to sleep, lovely child /Go to sleepy, child so lovely / Go to sleep, go to sleepy / In the arms of your mother