Disclaimer: yes, Christmas and Narnia belong to me, for they belong to everyone.
The ball always ended an hour before midnight. When the Four were young it had ended at ten, in respect for the rulers' need for a good sleep; by the time Lucy was ten, the ball went to eleven. The first time it went later, Lucy had not been ready for bed yet, and had stayed by the window, watching the Narnians go laughing through the courtyard and white snow. She'd stayed till the last guest left, one hand holding back the holly-red curtain. Her siblings had come in, looking for her, and stopped. The ballroom had lanterns hanging on the walls, the table had only the remnants of the feast-but the gold still glistened in the light of the lanterns, the trees still reached for the tall ceiling, and light reflected off of all the jewels hanging in the branches.
The three walked to the window, watching Mr. Tumnus, the last to leave, turn and wave at the windows, and the four waved back, watching his form disappear through the stone arch and leave only the falling snow.
"What a beautiful Christmas," Lucy whispered in solemn joy.
"Peace for our people," Peter agreed softly, his hand coming to her shoulder.
"Mercy reaching all the weak and the lonely." Edmund put an arm around each of his sister's waists, smiling when Susan covered his hand with her own.
"And comfort in every home," she finished.
They stood in silence, aware of the beauty of their home, and the depth of the Lion's blessings.
"We should go to bed," Susan said at last, and with a sigh the four turned from the window to the empty ballroom.
Suddenly Edmund, a bit of mischief in his eyes, held his hand out to Lucy and bowed, and when she took it, spun her slowly through the ballroom floor. The older two watched for a moment, the light gleaming off the crowns on their hair, joy and wonder crowning their faces. Then Peter took Susan's hand, and they joined them, a slow, music-less dance that spoke of contented hearts. They made their slow way across the floor, taking their time, but headed towards rest.
Peter and Susan reached the door first, and waited for the other two. They paused, one more time, to view the empty room, the beauty, the calm.
"May the year Aslan sends us be as full of His good gifts as the Christmas He gave us here," Peter murmured.
"And may we rest in it." Susan let the silence linger after that for a moment more, then opened the door, and the Four went to bed.
They woke in the morning to a new layer of snow, pristine and white, and Aslan with them as the new year came.
Merry Christmas!