england / december 22, 1947

word count: 754

eustill requested by tori

xXx

Jill stuffed her hands deeper into her threadbare coat pockets, pinpricks of icy wind stinging her fingers in spite of the effort as snow flurried down to the sidewalk in whirling eddies, and the lights in the department store Christmas display dazzled her eyes.

Lucy's laugh rang just up the street as Peter wrapped his arms around her from behind and waddled after his little sister's footsteps, pointing to something in the sweet shop window while Susan tutted at their antics.

Edmund's voice drifted up from several yards behind Jill on the busy shopping strip. "Honestly, strength doesn't matter half so much as aim."

"Exactly," came Eustace's adamant tone in response, "it's all about precision."

"Not like you can do much damage with a snowball anyway."

Jill glanced over her shoulder, snow-specked sandy locks and raven mop side by side, nearly the same height, both boys' cheeks flushed in the biting wind though they didn't seem to notice.

"So what you're saying is, we nail Peter in the face straight off and go for the girls after."

"Not a bad strategy, though he is usually a sight too keen on revenge." Edmund glanced up and smiled as they approached Jill.

She smiled suspiciously back. "Am I in danger of an attack in the middle of the street?"

"We're planning for later," said Eustace, turning to stop beside her, and Jill laughed.

"I see we take snowball fights very seriously around here."

"Well, it's not my fault the only people I've ever actually had snowball fights with were Narnian royalty—ruthless killers, the lot of them, especially Peter."

Edmund laughed just as Lucy called his name, waving for him to join the rest of the group, and he ducked away at a casual stride, answering something Peter said as if he had not a moment earlier been plotting his snowy demise.

Jill watched with a faint smile.

"Are you warm enough?"

She glanced back at Eustace. "What?"

He nodded toward her stiff figure. "You're shivering. And I think that thing's more patches than coat."

"It's vintage."

"I'm questioning your common sense, not your fashion sense."

She pursed her lips, but not before Eustace's sharp grey eyes flicked to the twinkling shop window, heavy woolen coats lined up on display in all the latest styles.

Jill averted her eyes in surrender when he looked back at her. "I didn't bring enough for a new one. I'm waiting for Christmas money."

"Won't do you much good if you freeze to death before Christmas." He pulled his hands out from under his arms and stuffed them into his pockets.

"Don't give me yours."

"I wasn't going to give you mine."

"Well, I—"

He pulled out a crisp bank note and offered it to her between pale bony fingers.

"What— Scrubb, that's twenty pounds!"

He shrugged offhandedly. "I know."

Jill spluttered and stared, unable to comprehend where he'd even gotten that kind of money. It must have been everything his parents had sent with him for the whole of their holiday.

She shook her head. "I can't just—"

"Alright, then, I'll do it for you." He turned and stepped toward the shop door before Jill had time to think. "I'm getting that hideous green one, though."

"Don't you dare, it's the—"

He turned back and shot her a teasing grin, and she huffed in frustration.

"It's… the one with the brown fur muffs."

Eustace glanced in through the window again. "Won't you look a bit squirrely in that?"

"Well, if you think so, you needn't buy it." She moved to cross her arms, but before she'd even managed to put on a convincing pout, Eustace grabbed her hand and pulled her off the sidewalk toward the store, shooting a quick wave to Edmund as if to say they'd only be a minute.

"Oh!" cried Lucy, "I want to look at the coats too!"

"Lu," laughed Susan, "you already have a coat."

"Not to buy," retorted Lucy as she pulled away from Peter and bounded up after Eustace and Jill, red curls bouncing over her scarf. "Just to touch!"

Eustace opened the door and the overhead bell jingled as a wave of cinnamon warmth washed out into the street. "After you, madam squirrel."

Jill shot him an attempt at a dry look, but it broke only half a second later into a suppressed grin, and she shook her head, thinking very secretly that the stupid boyish glint in his eye made him look nearly as royal as any of his cousins.