Hello all! I'm back and so is Leona, so all you Leona fans can rejoice. The first part of this chapter is very fluffy in places, almost sappily romantic, and the only way I can see it happening is because Peter is very old-fashioned in his courting and knows the kind of flowery court language that makes a girl's heart go thump-thump. Please let me know if it was too over the top. The last part is pretty angsty, but yet again, let me know if it was overdone.
By the way, the song that I'm having Peter sing is "Culhwch and Olwen" by Heather Dale.
Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.
Disclaimer 2: If this story in any way resembles any other fanfiction it is by complete accident, as I go out of my way to avoid reading fanfictions that resemble mine until mine are completed. My apologies to any other great minds.
Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.
Chapter thirteen: Songs and Tears
Peter was standing inside the Finchley train station late Christmas Eve morning, eagerly awaiting Leona's train. She had been on his mind all morning, and the memories of the night before had been fighting the anticipation her arrival inspired. Narnia, Leona, Narnia, Leona. Both subjects had been swirling around in Peter's head all day, depending on the company he was in at the time. The presence of any of the Narnians brought his mind back to the events of the previous night, and excited looks would shoot between the conspirators. Talking to his mum, dad or Susan would bring his mind to Leona and the impressions that she would make on his family, and that his family would make on her. He had never felt so nervous in his life, except before a battle, although the jitters were very similar in intensity. A battle would decide his fate and the fates of others around him. Leona's presence affected his life as well, though at least with her he was in far prettier company. He would much prefer the sight of Leona's smile to the visions of dying men all around him. Not necessarily safer company. She had already shown that, like Peter, she had a knack for unintentionally attracting trouble, but her company was well worth any hazards that might arise.
The sound of the train whistle brought Peter's thoughts back to the present and he looked around the crowd of passengers for Leona. He spotted her trying to carry a suitcase and a large cardboard box, and hurried over to help her.
Peter took the box from the struggling woman and she gave him a grateful smile. She looked wane, tired and more disheartened than usual. He set the box on the ground and gave her a hug in greeting. She returned it with surprising intensity.
"I've missed you," Peter said. "I know it's been less than a week since I've seen you last, but I still missed you."
She gave a little laugh. "I missed you too, Peter. More than I thought I would."
They broke apart and Peter looked down at her. "You look a little tired. Are you alright?"
"I'm just tired. It's been a stressful couple of days," she said.
He raised a questioning eyebrow at her.
"I'll tell you later," she said. "It's nothing overly important."
Taking her at her word, and understanding that the middle of the train station was hardly the appropriate place for a conversation, Peter picked the box back up and led her to the car. The box was large but not too heavy, and Peter could carry it easily.
"What in heaven's name is in here?" he asked Leona, giving the box an experimental shake.
"Presents, and you needn't bother peeking, I've already wrapped them," she said.
Peter mock pouted at her. "Spoil sport. Where is the fun in finding out what you got me if you make it so difficult? I hope it's worth the curiosity!"
Realizing that his teasing may have sounded rude he backtracked a little and gave Leona a gentle smile. "In all truthfulness, Leona, as long as it's from you, I won't care what my present is. I know I'll love it."
She gave him a smile back and Peter was grateful to see her face light up again. He hated seeing her sad, and reminded himself to ask her what she had been doing over the last few days that would put such shadows in her hazel eyes.
"I'm fairly certain you'll like it," she said.
Peter gave in to the urge to tease her again and said, "Of course, if it's dirty socks or a moldy banana..."
Leona started laughing merrily and Peter relaxed, knowing that whatever the trouble it was not something urgent.
"... I can't guarantee that I'll keep it on my person at all times!"
She was still laughing but hastened to reassure him. "Well, I can promise that it's not socks or anything moldy! You really should like it. But, no more questions! You'll find out tomorrow."
Peter loaded Leona's suitcase and box into the car, and opened the door for her. It was nearly lunchtime and he planned on taking her to lunch before all the eateries closed. He had originally thought that he would take her straight home, but he felt that he had better have a bit of private time with her to warn her about his family and what she might expect to happen during the holidays.
Peter gave Leona a small briefing over soup and a sandwich. She seemed to get more and more nervous as the time passed. She gave a small sigh of relief when Peter told her that she wouldn't need to worry about being pressured for information that she wasn't willing to give.
"I don't want to offend anyone, but..." She trailed off, looking apologetic but firm. "There are some things that I can't tell anyone about."
"Don't worry," Peter said. "They have all been warned. No one will push you to say anything you don't want to."
They finished their meal and got back into the car for the ride to the Pevensie home. Leona looked more and more pale and quiet the closer they got. By the time Peter pulled the car into the driveway, she looked almost sick.
Before they got out of the car Peter leaned over and took her hand. "Hey, don't worry so much. They are just regular people."
"Yes, but they're YOUR people!" she said, in a tone that was half whisper, half wail.
Peter leaned closer and gave her a quick kiss, shocking her out of her nervous introspection. "Relax," he said.
She visibly lost some of the tension that was holding her stiff in her seat. "I just want them to like me," she said with a little smile. "I never planned on falling in love, but if I'm going to do a thing, I'm going to do it right."
Peter grinned and gave her another, more lingering kiss. "Don't fret. Unless you plan on murdering someone, they will love you almost as much as I do."
She gave a small chuckle but no other response.
"Chin up," Peter said. "We will brave the dangers together!"
She rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath that sounded like, "Show off," then got out of the car and grabbed her suitcase. Peter took up the box.
Opening the kitchen door, Peter heard the sounds of music and singing coming from the living room. Surprisingly there was no one in the kitchen and their arrival had gone unnoticed. Peter put the box down on the kitchen table and quietly asked Leona, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, "Do you want to make an entrance?"
He took her hand and pulled her to the door to the living room. He could see Susan at the piano and all the rest of his family and friends sitting around the room, giving a hearty rendition of Deck the Halls. As he entered the room he joined in on the last verse and Leona joined in as well. Heads turned and everyone rose to their feet in a hullabaloo of welcome and introductions. Lucy embraced Leona like a long lost sister, and when Peter introduced Leona to Edmund, his brother gave a courtly bow and kissed her hand as she curtsied back. Mildly irked, Peter reclaimed Leona's hand and frowned at his grinning brother. "You behave. She's already claimed." Peter put a possessive arm around Leona's waist.
Looking down at her, he said, only partially teasing, "Should I be insanely jealous?"
She grinned mischievously up at him. "Only if you can't best his efforts!"
Peter pulled back in astonishment at the challenge in her tone and words. He hadn't planned on being quite this demonstrative in front of his family, but if she was going to dare him! He grabbed her around the waist, dipped her down until all of her weight was on his arms and he was the only thing keeping her from falling and kissed her square on the lips. She had made a rather undignified squawk when he grabbed her and she looked decidedly flustered and flushed when he pulled her upright again. She gave his arm a smack, but couldn't seem to think of anything to say.
Peter gave her a purely masculine smirk and continued introducing the rest of the room as though nothing had happened. He noticed Eustace in the corner looked slightly repulsed, his mum looking like every holiday on the calendar had come early, and Edmund was smirking ear to ear. The little snot had provoked Peter on purpose! Peter reminded himself to smack his brother around the head as soon as he got the chance.
Everyone sat back down and Susan started playing the piano again. Edmund pulled out his guitar and started strumming along.
Helen Pevensie told Peter, "We started late, Peter dear. You didn't miss much."
Leona gave Peter a quizzical look.
"Every Christmas Eve is the same here," he told her quietly. "After lunch we all sit down and sing Christmas carols and talk, sometimes play games. Then we'll have an early supper together. After that, some of us will go to parties, or just do things around the house. We tend to go to bed or at least quiet down by about 9:00 or 10:00 p.m., since the younger ones always wanted to get up early to open presents. They don't get us up early anymore, but we still are downstairs by at least 9 on Christmas morning."
Leona only had time to give Peter an understanding nod before everyone started in on Winter Wonderland. Peter noticed that she didn't seem to know that song, but hummed along once she got the tune. Most of the older songs she did know, however, and she sang along rather shyly with Peter and the others. She seemed to know slightly different versions of some songs and Peter wondered if that was why she was singing so softly. He had heard her sing before. She had mentioned long ago that she loved to sing and he had begged her for a song. She had complied with a beautiful French ballad. Neither of them understood a word that she had sung, but they both enjoyed it nonetheless.
When it was getting close to time to start fixing supper, Lucy came over to Peter and sat down at his feet.
"Peter," she pleaded, looking up at him sweetly. Peter looked back, suspiciously. Lucy never looked that cute unless she wanted something. "Would you sing a song for me? The one that you learned when we were in the country."
"When we were in the country" was usually code for "when we were in Narnia" but this time Peter knew that it was both. On the third day that the Pevensie children had spent in Professor Kirke's mansion, they had overheard two of the maids singing a ballad about an old Arthurian legend, that of Culhwch and Olwen. It told of one of Arthur's knights and his quest to find a missing lord and thus win the hand of a beautiful woman. Peter had loved it, and after some pleading the maids had taught it to the children. After they had entered the wardrobe and conquered the White Witch, they had taught it in turn to the Narnians. It had become quite popular there due to the fact that Culhwch took counsel from several talking animals on his quest, and the story easily fitted the land of Narnia.
Peter had always sung it as a duet with Susan, which was how he had learned it, but the song could be sung by one person. He smiled down at Lucy and looked up for Susan to see if she was also willing. Apparently not... he thought as he saw Susan slip out of the room. Jill had been sitting next to the door, and Susan had whispered something to her as she passed.
Jill spoke up as Peter caught her eye. "Oh, she'll be back in a few minutes, she just needed to do something. She said for you to go on without her."
Peter gave a little sigh. He had thought that since Culhwch and Olwen was originally an English song, Susan would be willing to sing it with him, but apparently its connection to Narnia made her wary. Lucy looked crestfallen, and Peter decided to try and sing it without Susan. He turned to Edmund, who nodded and started tuning his guitar in hopes of remembering the chords.
Lucy had asked Peter to sing that particular song in hopes that Susan would sing it with him. She wanted to get Susan to at least start trying to acknowledge Narnia, and since the song was English, Lucy felt that Susan shouldn't have an excuse. She looked up at her brother sadly, the joy gone out of her request. She could see him square his shoulders and decide to go on without Susan. She gave him a brave smile back and knew that he would sing anyways.
One of the few things that would stop all activity in the Great Hall in Cair Paravel no matter the time or other activities was an announcement that the High King would sing. Peter rarely sang for anyone other than his siblings, he was very self-conscience about his voice, mostly for the effect it had on anyone who heard it. Peter had a deep, rich singing voice that made love songs bring tears to his listeners eyes and made ballads come to life. If Peter had ever decided to, he could have become a bard in a heartbeat. But he always felt uncomfortable with the praise and accolades that came his way when he would sing in public, so he rarely did. Lucy was one of the few people who could get him to sing, and it usually took quite a bit of begging and pleading even from her.
With Edmund finally having remembered the chords for the song, Peter started to sing. Culhwch and Olwen was a bright cheerful tune that always brought a smile to Lucy's face when Peter would sing it. He met Lucy's eyes as he sang the first verse solo, but he started to falter as he reached the part where the song split into two voices. Usually this was where Susan would start singing along. After listening to Peter struggle with trying to carry the song alone for a few notes, Lucy opened her mouth to try and sing Susan's part when someone else beat her to it.
Leona sat down on the floor next to Lucy at Peter's feet and sang along with him. She looked lovely and her voice was no longer quiet and uncertain, but strong and beautiful and a perfect match for Peter's. What Lucy truly noticed however, was her brother. When his head had whipped around to see who was singing with him, his face lit up. There was new energy to his song, and as Leona settled herself at his feet Lucy could tell that Peter was no longer singing to his sister. For the two singers there suddenly was nothing in the world other than each other and the song.
Everyone in the room looked on in wonder. Peter almost shone with delight, majesty, and love for the woman at his feet. Leona's face reflected those same qualities back and the only thing that would come close to breaking the spell between them was when they would make some mistake in the song. Yet again, Leona knew a slightly different version than Peter. When they would occasionally sing a different word or note, there would be a little laughter from the both of them before they would catch up to Edmund's accompaniment.
Lucy's heart filled with happiness. She had never seen Peter look so joyful. Narnia brought out the best in Peter, just like it did everyone else, but even when in Narnia it was rare for Peter to ever truly relax and live only in the moment. No matter how happy he was there, she could always see him keeping in the back of his mind that he was a King and needed to act like one. He never seemed to completely forget the responsibilities that his status required. In England he was coping, but never as content as he had been in Narnia. She supposed that it was the knowledge that England could never live up to the expectations that Narnia had given him. For this moment, this Christmas Eve, however, England didn't seem to hold any disappointments. His heart was in his eyes as his voice swelled and blended with Leona's. He had not stopped smiling since she had started to sing with him.
As the song ended, Peter and Leona both started laughing in delight as the others all started to applaud.
"I haven't sung that song in years!" Leona said, breathless and smiling.
"Me either," Peter replied. "Where did you learn your version?"
"Oh, I don't even remember, it's been so long ago!" Leona laughed.
Lucy impulsively gave Leona a quick hug. "You have a lovely voice. Have you ever thought of becoming a singer?"
Leona laughed. "Oh, I've sung for my supper many a time, but I find that a regular job is a bit more reliable source of income!"
Helen got to her feet and announced, "Well, on that lovely note, I think it's time to start cooking supper. William and I both have a party tonight and I think that Susan does, too."
Peter gave Leona his hands and helped her to her feet. "We should sing together more often. Our voices match very well."
"Our voices aren't the only things that match," Leona replied, still grinning. "But I'll add it to the list!"
Dinner was a noisy affair with everyone talking and laughing. Peter was surprised that his mother hadn't immediately started questioning Leona, but he guessed that she wanted to wait until Leona was more comfortable around them before trying to pick her apart like a puzzle. For her part, Leona was surprisingly quiet and took part in the conversations only when someone asked her something. Peter found this a little odd since she usually was so vibrant and friendly. Every so often he could catch a glimpse of something like longing or sadness in her eyes, and then she would blink and be back to normal for a while until it happened again.
After dinner Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie left for their party, Susan left for hers. Polly and Digory went back to the hotel and those remaining at home headed back to the living room to play games. After a few hours of cards the others all went their separate ways, leaving Peter and Leona alone in the living room.
Peter settled on the couch and Leona cuddled in next to him. It was nearing eleven o'clock and Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie had returned home and gone to bed almost an hour ago. Before retiring, they had asked Peter and Leona if they would wait up for Susan to come home. They had been sitting and talking quietly when Peter decided that he would go ahead and ask her what had happened while they were apart.
"Leona," he asked. "What happened while I was here? I know something did, because you mentioned having to do some things over the holidays and you seem so much sadder than you ever have before."
Susan slipped into the kitchen quietly and made as little noise as possible. She had come home much later than she had planned and she knew that everyone should be asleep by now. She had gotten to the hallway and sat down to take her coat and shoes off, when she heard voices from the living room. She knew that it was wrong to eavesdrop, but she did it anyway. She heard Peter asking Leona what she had been doing for the last couple of days.
"Oh, nothing much," Susan heard Leona reply, in a far too casual tone. "I had to make a trip to Canterbury, and get a few other odds and ends done..."
"That wouldn't have made you this sad, Leona," Peter said firmly. "Tell me, what is wrong?"
There was silence for a short while, and Susan thought that Leona wasn't going to answer.
"My family died on the December 22, what feels like centuries ago." Leona's voice was tremulous and Susan sucked in a breath. Peter had never told them that Leona had no family. She felt ashamed for listening in on a very private conversation, but leaned closer nonetheless.
"It just hit me harder this year, and it took a few days for me to get back to normal," Leona said slowly, and Peter was almost surprised that she continued explaining. "If I can, I try to spend the day remembering them and keeping their memory alive. But sometimes it feels like I'm picking a wound just to keep it open. I'm afraid that if I don't remember them, there isn't anyone who will! I can't decide which is worse; the years that I forget it completely and just go on with my life, or the years that I spend the entire time franticly trying to remember their faces! I either feel guilty for forgetting them, or sad because I remember!" Her voice was filled with confusion and dismay.
Peter held her tightly to him and guided her head to his shoulder. "Why did you do this alone? You should have told me and I would have stayed with you. Did you not trust me to help you grieve? I thought we were closer than that."
Peter was upset that she had not told him about this sooner. The idea of her sitting in her apartment weeping over the family that she had lost, without anyone to comfort her nearly broke his heart. He looked down at her face, and his anger washed away. She looked startled at his vehemence and he quickly realized that she simply hadn't thought of it. She had been alone for so long that it just never occurred to her that someone else might be willing to share her burden. Peter realized all of a sudden how very difficult it would be to teach Leona how to love again, how to rely on others again.
"I...I just didn't think of it," she said softly, confirming Peter's belief.
"I do admire you though," Peter said. "I don't know how you manage to go on with your life alone without breaking. I start sweating just thinking of losing any one of my family. It's the one thing that truly frightens me."
"It isn't easy," she said. "At first I felt like the world was crashing down on me. Everything and everybody was gone. The fire destroyed everything. I kept feeling worse and worse as people would come up and offer their condolences to my face and talk in pitying whispers behind my back. My spirit did break for a while. I wanted to run, to hide, to find a cave somewhere and curl up and die just so I wouldn't be alone. I felt lost because I was the only one left, but then, at the very end, when I thought I couldn't do it, I couldn't live without them, I realized something. There had to be a reason that I had lived. There had to be some reason, some mission I had to complete, something in life that I still had to do. The pain became easier to bear. I would be sad, but still feel grateful that I was alive.
"After that I started to heal. I made friends. I went on with my life. Then I started to forget, and that frightened me. If I don't make myself remember, I don't remember at all! It is only the anniversaries that are difficult. The horrible part is that sometimes I can't even remember their faces." She suddenly looked up at Peter's face.
"What does that make me, Peter? What kind of a terrible person am I, that I'm forgetting my own family?" Her voice turned desperate. "I can't even remember what my own mother looked like! This is why I feel so much worse when I forget the anniversary. I feel like they are truly gone, as though they never existed." Tears started slipping down her pale cheeks and Peter gathered her even more tightly to his side.
"You are not a terrible person; you're simply trying to heal." Peter had to fight past the lump in his throat to reassure her. "Do you truly think they would be happy that you cling to their memory when it causes you such pain? Let them go. It isn't healthy for you to make yourself grieve like this. You will never truly forget them, and it will never be as though they didn't exist because you live on. You will live your life and you will see their faces in your children and your children's children. You will tell them, 'You have your auntie's nose, and your uncle's ears.' They lived their lives, however short they were. Now you must live yours. Cry for them if you must, but never think that you could truly forget them."
She was sobbing in Peter's lap now, clinging to his shirt, and he could feel tears running down his own cheeks, but he made himself continue. "You aren't alone anymore, and next year on the anniversary, if you feel like you still wish to have a day of remembrance, I swear to you I will not leave your side. You will never have to face anything alone as long as I am there to share it with you. But, you have to let me. I can't help you if you push me away."
She looked up and the pain in her face took his breath away. "I want to, Peter," she whispered, "but, I'm so scared. Have you ever looked at something you wanted so desperately that it hurt, but didn't dare reach for it, for fear that it wouldn't be everything it promised?"
Peter closed his eyes as the images of Aslan and Cair Paravel forced their way into his mind. His heart clenched in pain. "Oh, yes," he said. "I know what that is like. . ."
"I didn't have this fear when I was young," she continued. It seemed as though she had been damming up her feelings for so long that a listening ear was enough to bring the misery crashing down. "I envy children sometimes. They believe in the impossible with such confidence. Once we grow up we start to learn that something that seems too good to be true probably is. Children don't do that. They reach for Paradise with both hands and a glad smile. After that first betrayal or disaster, I think we start to always hold a little bit of ourselves back when we love, to keep us from being utterly destroyed if it all crumbles beneath our feet. Love shouldn't need to be like that. . . We shouldn't need to be afraid." Her tears continued and she buried her face in his chest.
Peter gripped her tighter in comfort but also as an anchor. Her words brought a sharp epiphany to his mind. He had never quite understood why Aslan had sent him back because he was 'too old.' He suddenly realized that his exile from Narnia had nothing to do with his age in years, but because he had started to fear losing what he held so dear. It wasn't a punishment. It was a challenge. He needed to re-learn how to love in the way that Narnia and Aslan should be loved; without fear and without holding anything back. He felt his heart soar like an uncaged bird for a moment. He knew that even if he had finally come to understand his fate, it still wouldn't change the fact he wouldn't go back. But, for a brief moment, it didn't matter. That sort of faith didn't need a physical presence to inspire it. It simply was.
Leona still wept in his arms and Peter felt as though she was crying for her family, and for all the years that she faced the world alone. Knowing instinctively that no further words were needed he simply held her tight and let her cry. He didn't think she'd notice the tears leaking down his own face.
Out in the hallway, tears running down her own cheeks, Susan quietly slipped upstairs. She felt ashamed for eavesdropping, but knew that she would never be able to forget what she had heard.
TBC...
Review, please!!