AN: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I always appreciate it. This chapter turned out longer than I expected, but is still shorter than the last.

Chapter Four: Christmas Ball

Peter

Peter usually loved Christmastime in Narnia. The giving of expensive presents wasn't quite as prevalent as in his own world, but the air of general happiness was delightful. Christmas was one of the many things that the White Witch took from the Narnians. It seemed like such a little thing when compared with their freedom, their livelihoods, or their lives, but Christmas was a symbol for much more important things that she had ripped from them. Jadis had taken away the Narnian's fun, their hope, and their joy. This was why Christmas had become rather more important in Narnia than in other lands in this world. This was why, on this day, the Narnians, old and new, wavered between solemn gratitude and frenzied elation. Christmas was Narnia's new national holiday.

Peter had quickly realized how much Christmas meant to the Narnians and since the third year of their reign, the Christmas Ball had been the largest, most celebratory court event of the year. Although Peter normally discouraged a great deal of spending of frivolities, for the Christmas Ball, no expense was spared. And though the sound of faun flutes and the woodsy scent of pine needle decoration replaced more sophisticated instruments and decorations found in other parts of the world, the Narnia Christmas Ball was still known in many surrounding countries.

This year, the decorations and the music were as wonderful as ever. There were even more guests than usual and much need for celebration as it had been a very good year. However, the ball was rather subdued compared to past years because Narnia's Kings and Queens all seemed to be in less than ideal moods. Peter sighed as he watched his brother and sisters. He remembered past years when their smiles were more genuine and their interest was wholly consumed with the business of merriment. This year, Susan was wearing a dress that Peter thought looked absolutely ridiculous and was too busy juggling about five handsome young men to pay much attention to her other guests. Despite this, she seemed dissatisfied and fretful. Edmund was pale and withdrawn and to Peter's great disappointment, he didn't even try to get to know any of the young ladies that were pointed out to him. He was polite to them all and danced with them all once, but he was very careful to make no move to indicate that he preferred one over the other. Peter thought that his brother was being very difficult. Peter himself was distracted over Ethnee who had been acting very strangely for the last couple of weeks. At this moment, his wife was conversing with her sisters, some of whom she hadn't seen since she and Peter had been married and she shied away from everyone else present. This wouldn't have bothered Peter much; he knew that she was just bashful, but Ethnee's nature was constantly being misinterpreted. She was conceited, many said, too good to talk almost anyone other than Peter. Lucy was the only one of the four monarchs who was her usual jolly self, but even her disposition was dampened by the others' bad moods.

Peter couldn't help but smile as he watched his youngest sister walk over to speak with his wife. Lucy was always very sweet to Ethnee; trying to draw her out into conversation or to help her during state occasions which were rather new and overwhelming to the new bride. At the moment, however, Ethnee, from what Peter could tell, seemed to be excusing herself and trying to leave the room. Peter frowned. The ball had barely started and people would be disappointed if they didn't get to see the couple dance at least once. Lucy came to talk to him where he was seated at his throne, which he had learned years ago was the only place he where he wouldn't be surrounded by dozens of people vying for his attention during balls.

"Peter," Lucy whispered in his ear, "I think you had better go check on Ethnee. She doesn't seem quite well."

Peter frowned. Ethnee had seemed almost sick lately, as well as unhappy, but she had barely said a word to Peter in a week. He had asked her if she was angry with him but she insisted that everything was fine.

"Thank you, Lu," Peter said, forcing a smile and patting Lucy on the arm, "she's probably just flustered by so many people, but I'll check on her."

Lucy smiled at him and seemed about to leave when the attention of both of them was drawn to the back of the room where there seemed to be some sort of commotion going on. The Talking Beasts were giving shouts of excitement, while the humans seemed to be whispering to one another in disbelief. The ruckus was slowly spreading in their direction. Peter's face broke into a genuine smile when he saw who was walking towards him and Lucy clapped her hands in delight.

"Father Christmas," Peter said gravely, "you are welcome at our court." Peter hadn't seen Father Christmas since that very first Christmas in Narnia, but he recognized him instantly.

Father Christmas bowed to him. "King Peter," he answered, "I have heard that you and your sisters have made good use of the gifts that I gave you years ago."

"We tried to, sir," Peter said.

"Because you have done this, I have brought another gift to you and all of Narnia. It is not one that you can hold in your hand, but it is one that will cheer even those with grown-up worries," here he smiled at Peter, "it is a Christmas snow."

There was some scattered cheering at this, but also some skeptical murmurs. It had been an unseasonably warm year and it certainly wasn't cold enough outside to snow. Yet, when Father Christmas left the room, nearly everyone followed him. There were many "ohs" and "ahs" when Peter's guests glimpsed the beautiful snow falling steadily from the sky and already forming a light dust on the ground. There was something special about this snow not usually present; something magical was in the air. Several people had opened their mouths to catch snowflakes like Peter could vaguely remember doing as a very small child. In Narnia, even the adults sometimes acted like children. Peter looked around to invite Father Christmas to stay for the ball, but found that he was already loaded back onto his sleigh. Peter wished him a good journey and settled in to enjoy the snow. He saw several young couples wander off to dark corners and he thought about how romantic it would be to stroll through the winter night with Ethnee on his arm.

Ethnee! He was supposed to check on Ethnee. Peter sighed and turned from the great party. For once, his leaving went completely unnoticed.

Peter found his wife lying on her bed with a cold cloth pressed to her forehead. Ethnee was prone to headaches. "Are you feeling unwell, dear?" Peter asked her, though honestly, the frequency of Ethnee's supposed headaches and weak spells was beginning to annoy him.

"The music was giving me a headache and the heat from so many bodies was making me feel ill."

"Everyone has gone outside now. It's snowing."

"Snowing!" Ethnee sat up and looked at him. "And everyone left that grand ball to go outside?"

Peter came over to the bed and put his arms around her shoulders. "It's the most beautiful snow that I have ever seen. I was hoping that you would like to have a private walk in the courtyard with me."

Ethnee had come dangerously close to smile at the beginning of this speech, but near the end, she frowned and shrugged him off. "It wouldn't be private," she said, bitterly.

Peter sighed. She was right, of course, but she had just destroyed the pretty picture that had been building in his head. "They will expect to see the two of us together some time tonight," Peter said, turning away from her, "There will be talk if we aren't."

"We're together right now."

"I meant publicly."

"I know what you meant! But Peter, they're always staring at me. Everywhere I go, they watch, hoping to see me mess up."

"No one wishes to see you fail, Ethnee," Peter said, a bit coldly, "it is all in your head."

"Well, maybe not hoping exactly," she admitted, "but they're watching and they expect me to fail. They wonder if I am good enough to be your wife. They wonder if I have the spirit and grace of your sisters. And of course the answer is no! How could it be anything else when the humans adore you as their good king and the creatures worship you almost as a god?"

Peter remembered his promise to Ethnee's father, Lord Patrim. The promise that he wouldn't put undue strain on Ethnee. He had tried very hard to live up to this promise. Ethnee had remained a private person, hadn't been made Queen of Narnia, hadn't been given any responsibilities, but now Peter considered a new possibility. Perhaps just being married to him was enough to put more strain on Ethnee than most ladies in the realm felt. Peter often thought that Ethnee would get along better if she made some sort of effort to be involved, but he knew that asking Ethnee to speak in public or be a socialite was like asking a fish to fly. Ethnee had a great many talents. She could sing beautifully and play the lute. She could do fabulous embroidery. She could paint moderately well and wrote a bit of poetry. She could even cook and sew and garden (skills that were nearly useless as the King's wife). She was a decent conversationalist, but never, ever to strangers. Peter began to feel sympathetic to his wife and put his arms around her. She shed a few tears into his tunic.

"There, there" Peter whispered, "it'll be fine. Narnia isn't a judgmental sort of place. Just be yourself and everyone will love you."

Ethnee shook her head and laughed a little. "I suppose that they'll have to like me soon enough," she whimpered. "When I have a baby."

"When you –" Peter stuttered in shock, wondering what she meant by that statement.

"I think I'm going to," she said softly through her tears. She looked up at Peter's stunned face. "You're happy, aren't you?"

Peter thought about this. Was he happy? Everyone else would be thrilled. One of a King's most important duties was to produce an heir. Yet, despite having looked after a whole country and three younger siblings, Peter wondered if he was ready to be a father. He couldn't tell any of this to Ethnee, however. "Of course, I'm happy," he said, kissing her on the forehead. It wouldn't have been gentlemanly to say anything else.

Peter got up and paced about the room, not thinking that this may show his nervousness. He absently opened the curtains and saw the beautiful snow still coming down and people still hanging about outside, having apparently abandoned the throne room. The snow was thick on the ground and some of the young men were having snowball fights. "How long have you known?" Peter asked.

"A few weeks."

So that explained Ethnee's bad moods. Peter sat down on a high backed chair by the window. "Come and sit in my lap, dear," he said to her, reassuringly. Perhaps the snow could turn out to be romantic for him after all.

Susan

Alberic was having a snowball fight.

Susan had invested a great deal of effort in this ball. Having her dress made just perfectly, thinking of how she was going to flirt and dance and play hard to get. It hadn't turned out exactly as she had hoped. The young lords had fought for her favors, as usual, and Susan had danced with several very handsome ones, but the man who she most wanted to notice her hadn't glanced her way all night. Torim had danced with all the prettiest ladies. He had even danced with Lucy, but he had avoided Susan as though she were the plague. When the ball had moved outside, Alberic, her old standby had abandoned her to throw snowballs. The snow could have been so beautifully romantic, but Susan stood alone with her arms crossed, her lovely sapphire dress covered by her blue velvet cloak.

"He is such a child!" Susan muttered in frustration, watching Alberic scream in victory as he beamed someone in the back with a snowball.

"He is," a deep voice by her side agreed. Susan felt a shiver of excitement go down her spine as she realized it was Torim. Still, she was rather irritated at him and she was going to let him know it.

"I don't see how it is any of your business, whether he is or he isn't."

"Pardon me," he said politely, "but any man who uses an occasion such as this for snowball fighting when he could be lovemaking is either a child or a fool."

Susan felt her heart beat faster at these words, but she attempted to tease him. "I didn't know you took such an interest in Lord Alberic's lovemaking pursuits," she teased.

"Oh, I've taken a very keen interest Lord Alberic, but not because I have a taste for fine young lords like your brother does."

"Like my – how do you know about that?" Susan demanded, dropping their flirtatious game for a moment. "I – I mean, I thought that it wasn't widely known."

"I don't believe that it is, but I make it my business to know a great deal about the people around me."

"Oh, and I dare say that you know everything there is to know about me?" Susan asked sarcastically.

Torim waited long moments before answering, holding out his hand and catching sparkling snowflakes on his black glove. The snowflakes were so beautiful that Susan was momentarily distracted by them. "I know that there are a thousand young men who would love to make it into your bed, but thus far, Alberic seems to be the only one to regularly succeed. And you needn't look at me in that angry way for we both know that I speak nothing but the truth. I know that you had an unusually expensive dress made just for this occasion – a dress in the Terebinthian style. I know that you are fond of Alberic – but a woman like you, Susan, you need more than a boy."

"Why I never!" Susan exclaimed indignantly, turning away from him. The man could be so rude!

"Stop it," he demanded. He grabbed Susan by the arm and turned her towards him. "I tire of your coy games, your female flirtations." He ran across along the neckline of her dress and she gasped. It was his very rudeness and harshness that made him so attractive. The others all tried too hard. With Torim, Susan felt that she was talking to man and not a pathetic pet.

"How can this be true?" she asked, completely seriously. "You play the game too well yourself not to derive some enjoyment from it."

"Perhaps I do, sometimes. But there are times for flirting and playful games and there are times for getting down to business." His arms had encircled her waist now but this was cleverly almost entirely concealed by her cloak. "Where can we go?" he asked.

"My quarters," Susan replied, breathlessly, taking him by the hand.

Edmund

"The real problem is that the humans and the creatures want different things from the lands they inhabit," Edmund was saying to the girl at his side.

"Ah, um, yes," Alise agreed, her teeth chattering a bit. Edmund sighed. The ridiculous thing had run outside with no coat or cloak on!

"Would you like my cloak?" he asked.

"No, I wouldn't want to deprive you of it," she said, shivering visibly, "but perhaps we could both fit under it?" She smiled at him, feigning shyness. Edmund had tried his best to avoid all the ladies who were suddenly very interested in him, but Alise had attached herself to him like a leech.

"I dare say we could," Edmund muttered, groaning inwardly. He put his arm around her shoulder, allowing the cloak to cover them both.

"That's much better," she said, beaming up at him and fluttering her eyelashes. Before a few weeks ago, he had always thought the thing about girls fluttering their eyelashes was just an expression.

"What were we talking about?" Edmund asked hastily. "Oh, yes, I was saying that the biggest problem with this sudden human immigration in Narnia is that the humans want a different sort of Narnia than most of the Talking Beasts and fauns and centaurs and dwarfs and dryads and practically any other creature. Humans want farms and cities and trade and all that. Narnia's original inhabitants want uncut forests and wild lands. Maybe mining for some of the dwarfs, but that's just because they enjoy it."

Edmund looked at Alise to find that she was absently twirling a bit of her hair on the end of her finger. He realized that she hadn't heard a word he had said. Why did girls have to act so mindless? He knew that they couldn't really all be mindless because his sisters weren't like that at all. Lucy could have talked about this very subject with him all day (she was really the one who was most concerned about it) and Susan, for all her femininity, really had a rather good head for politics and government. Sometimes he thought that girls must think that men want them to act this way. After all, he had seen Susan behaving in much the same manner around her suitors. Maybe men really did want women to behave that way; he wouldn't know much about it as he wasn't really that fond of girls. Maybe these ladies were all putting on a show and underneath they were actually smart and easy to talk to.

"Oh, look Edmund," Alise giggled, "they're starting to play music over there and some couples are dancing in that area with the roof. I love to dance."

Or maybe not. Edmund looked over at Alise who was playing with her hair and tapping her foot impatiently. If these girls really were intelligent, they hid it very well. Even Ethnee was more interesting! Edmund realized that he was supposed to ask Alise to dance and that if he didn't, after she dropped such a large hint, she would be terribly offended. Why weren't their instruments frozen? Edmund had always heard that musicians had a hard time playing in such cold weather.

"Would you like to dance, Alise?" he ground out, not sounding like he wanted to at all. He was never much good at the social niceties.

"I would be delighted Edmund," she giggled. Edmund wondered why she kept giggling.

At least Alise did have one advantage over most of the ladies here, Edmund thought miserably as he twirled her about. She wasn't picked by Peter or Susan. Edmund liked to feel that he had at least a bit of control over these types of things.

Lucy

First, Lucy danced with dwarf who seemed thrilled to get attention from the Queen and then she looked around for Peter. She loved dancing with Peter; it was the closest feeling she could get to when she used to dance on her father's feet when she was a little girl. It was odd that she could still remember dancing on her father's feet but had forgot big things like the name of her best friend from school or even her parents' faces. Peter, however, was nowhere to be found so she pried Edmund away from a girl named Alise and danced with him. Edmund, who was (surprisingly) a rather good dancer at the best of times stepped on her feet. Lucy thought he was most definitely distracted. Edmund had been a bit off for quite some time. Lucy felt as though there was something she wasn't being told about him.

After dancing with Edmund, Lucy danced with Mr. Tumnus, which turned out to be much pleasanter. They began talking about the Quirrel family whom Lucy had been to visit three more times since the first time with Roydon.

"I believe I knew their father," Tumnus told her as they danced. "A good family, though a bit excitable. But then, most Squirrels are."

"Peter and I gave those human boys' parents a good talking to," Lucy said. "I don't think they'll be bothering any Talking Animals in the future. I dare say that they didn't mean any harm, but I still feel a bit angry about it all."

"I heard all about it – you standing up for the Quirrels, I mean," Mr. Tumnus said, suppressing a smile. "It's already being talked about far and wide. About how Queen Lucy took up for Talking Beasts – even if it meant chastising her own kind."

"Well of course I did! In this case, the Talking Beasts were in the right. My brothers and sister and I were all in agreement; we could not have taken the other side."

Mr. Tumnus shook his head. "Not so. When there are disagreements in Narnia, the dwarfs side with the dwarfs, the fauns with the fauns, the Beasts with the Beasts – especially those of their same kind – and so on. Therefore, many expected you to side with the humans."

"But that's ridiculous," Lucy objected.

"It probably is," Mr. Tumnus agreed, "but I see that we shall not be able to continue this discussion further because our dance is about to end."

"Oh, do be my partner for the next dance, Mr. Tumnus," Lucy said. "I love talking to you."

Tumnus smiled at her. "I would, Your Majesty, but I fear that there is another young gentleman who would enjoy the honor more than I." Lucy followed Tumnus' line of vision to a young man who was standing off to the side.

"Prince Ikram? Mr. Tumnus! You mustn't tease me like that," she said, a bit reproachfully.

"I wasn't teasing you. He's been staring at you through our whole dance. In fact, I've noticed him staring at you at other times. Why do you think he has stayed in Narnia for the last few months when he could have gone back to his own land long ago?"

"I figured – I mean, I thought he was of the type who would ask for Susan's hand in marriage."

"That's what I thought also when he first arrived, but his eyes are never on your sister. Go talk to him and see for yourself." The song was ending and Tumnus was now nudging Lucy in Ikram's direction.

To Lucy's great surprise, Ikram did act rather like a suitor. He complimented her beauty and asked to walk with her. He talked about the snow which he had never seen before and about his home country which was near Calormen. He was really a very handsome young man with his dark skin and impeccable beard. He was dressed in a long robe of some of the most beautiful fabric that Lucy had ever seen that made him stand out from the other young men. Lucy had spoken to him before, of course, but never for very long.

"Sir," Lucy said, "your style of dress is very like that of the Calormens. I visited that country once, several years ago. Is yours much like it?"

"Several people have asked me that here. We do not think of ourselves as being such, but I suppose that you might. At present, we are on the verge of war with Calormen. The current Tisroc is ever looking to increase his empire. Narnia would do well to watch him"

"Narnia has no desire to go to war with Calormen."

"Of course," he said, inclining his head politely. "But I see that we are now coming back to the dancers. It is often said that dancing is better than talking, but best still if you know a wise and eloquent woman with whom you can do both at the same time."

"Are you asking me to dance?" Lucy laughed.

"I thought it was obvious," Ikram replied, in some confusion.

They both laughed and began to make their way towards the dancers. Unfortunately, on the way, she quite literally bumped into Roydon, who was disoriented having apparently just come from a snowball fight.

"Oh – Lucy!" he exclaimed, his eyes going back and forth between the two of them as though his mind couldn't process what was going on. "Hullo."

"Roydon," Lucy breathed and she suddenly felt terribly guilty. She wasn't sure why. It wasn't as though Roydon was even courting her and it was just one dance anyway. But she felt guilty all the same. Roydon's face had gone rather red and Lucy felt that hers must be the same. The three of them stood, staring at each other for long moments.

"Sir," Ikram said finally, "you block our path."

Still Roydon stood staring at them both, his mouth hanging open.

"Excuse us, Roydon," Lucy said, gently, moving him to the side.

As it turned out, Ikram was a very good dancer.