The next month went by dark and cold. Heavy, wet snow fell from the cloudy sky, building up on Enna's window and drifting through overlooked holes in the walls. Winter had officially come to Narnia, and with it an odd holiday called 'Christmas.' Enna, used to walking the halls and being passed by trotting fauns with their arms laden down by scrolls and quills, came to find the fauns, not busy with political work, but busy nailing pine boughs and sprigs of holly to the castle walls. A towering evergreen had been erected behind the royal dais in the banquet hall, and Enna watched as Peter, Aramir, and the king Edmund stood on rickety ladders, stringing long strands of threaded cranberries and glittering glass baubles until the tree shimmered in the torchlight.

She was trying not to worry as she sat near the two queens, but the three menfolk were so high up, and those ladders looked so dangerous…

"Oy, Susan, catch!" Edmund leaned back and tossed an orange to the queen, who shrieked as the ladder swayed a bit.

Enna covered her eyes.

"Enna!"

She opened them again just as Aramir reached back and tossed an orange across the Hall to her, and caught it with the tips of her fingers just before it splattered at her feet. "Do you wish to kill me, sir?" she called. As Aramir tipped backwards and had to grab at the tree to keep from falling, she added, "Or yourself?"

"It was in my plan to wait until you proved yourself worthy of death."

"You haven't been too observant, have you?"

Peter cleared his throat, and Enna looked at her hands. Peter had been very good about their recent estrangement, hadn't mentioned it to anyone and had treated her with the utmost consideration, but became obviously flustered whenever Enna got too familiar with anyone. It was slightly bothersome, but, she thought with a sigh, she owed it to him.

A dryad whose leaves had long since fallen entered the hall with a basket of ribbon. "Your Highnesses, the faun Tumnus is here to see you."

Queen Lucy shrieked and leapt from her seat before Enna even had a chance to turn around. "Oh, Tumnus!"

The other three Pevensies exclaimed in glee and went to meet the graying faun, Peter and King Edmund climbing down their ladders. "Oh, Mr. Tumnus, how good it is to see you!" Queen Susan cried.

"And you, my queens and kings," Tumnus replied with a smile.

Peter gave a merry laugh. "Enna, you wouldn't mind assisting Aramir with the rest of the tree, would you?"

"Of course not," Enna said softly.

"Thank you," King Edmund said, touching his fingers to his forehead, and he and his three siblings left the hall.

Enna took the basket of ribbon from the dryad and thanked her before approaching the tree. "What needs to be done yet?"

"The rest of the baubles need to be hung," replied Aramir, looking down at her as he paused at his work.

"I think the queens wish for these ribbons to be tied to the boughs," Enna said, holding up the basket.

"Well, those should be put up before the rest of the baubles." Aramir slipped the glass ornament he'd been holding into his pocket and began to climb down his ladder.

Enna wrinkled her nose and climbed up the other ladder until she reached the very top of the tree, nearly scraping the cathedral ceiling of the hall with the top of her head as she reached out and began to tie the crimson ribbons to the branches. "We'd best start from the top."

"Enna, get down from there!" Aramir's voice echoed against the stone walls, and she looked down.

"What? Why?"

"Just—just climb down. Please." She felt him take ahold of the ladder and hold it steady.

She took a few steps down the ladder to tie ribbons on lower boughs. "I won't fall, don't worry."

"But—"

"Really, Aramir, I'm all right."

"Fine. But I'll not move until you have your feet on solid ground."

Enna shook her head and went on. "I'll have to go back up on the other ladders to finish the tree, you know, and it's going to go by very slowly if you just stand there."

"If you fall, I want to catch you," Aramir replied stubbornly.

"I won't fall."

"You will," Aramir said quickly as she leaned over a bit sharply.

"This is a futile conversation," Enna sighed. "Take some of these ribbons and go up that ladder. If I start to fall, I'll tell you." She tossed a handful of ribbons down to him.

"Don't blame me if you break your neck."

"Oh, I don't think you'll have to worry about that."

He shook his head and caught the ribbon. "Fine."

"Thank you."

The tree trembled as he climbed up on the nearby ladder and began tying ribbons. "How does your shoulder feel? I heard they took the bandages off yesterday."

"A scar or two, but no real damage." Enna let a ghost of a smile escape. "The only inconvenience was those nettlesome bandages. They used the same salve on my shoulder as they did on your back, you know."

"I'm eternally grateful for that salve."

"Peter said you might've died, had you been left on the ship."

Aramir smiled at her. "Aslan works in amazing ways, doesn't he? Because you stowed away, I was vindicated from my brother."

I was vindicated. Enna stared at the bow she'd just tied. Aslan had told her she had a purpose, didn't he? Had the purpose of her life, up to this point, been to save Aramir's? She'd never looked at it from that standpoint!

"Enna, hold onto the ladder."

She looked up at him. "Why?"

"You've gone pale. Do you feel faint?"

"A bit," she replied, her mind awhirl, and began to climb down the ladder, gripping the rungs shakily. Had she really saved his life? How was that possible? She hadn't intended to, never once. And yet…it had happened, as neatly as if—

As neatly as if it had been planned.

Her feet on solid ground, she stood with her hands still braced against the ladder, her face suddenly hot. She had thought at first that having her life completely out of her control would send her crazy with worry, but suddenly, it didn't seem so bad.

Aramir's warm arms encircled her shoulders, and he helped her to a seat. "I warned you, didn't I? Heights can cause dizziness."

"It isn't that, really," she said earnestly, coming out of her daze. "I…I just realized something. Something about…well, the reason I stowed away on the Seacharger was because my uncle had made my life so miserable. And because my father died, he married my mother. And because of him, my father died in the first place. My whole life has been constructed to bring me to the ship—and save you. I—I, of all people, couldn't possibly have planned that. No human could have foreseen these events."

Aramir's eyes lit up, and he grinned. "See?"

"I think I'm beginning to understand," she admitted. "At least, a little. It's just a theory, after all."

"I won't say I told you so."

Enna nudged him with her elbow. "That's all I was thinking about. Now that I'm not dizzy, will my kind master allow me to continue with the tree?"

He gave her a dry smile and held out a hand, which she accepted and stood. "You've proven yourself at least a bit worthy of a ladder."

At that moment, Enna stepped on the hem of her frock, a loud ripping sound rending the air, and fell in a heap on the floor. "Oof!"

"Never mind."

She groaned, rubbing her bruised knee, and got up. "Oh, Gale, I've torn my dress. Look at that, clean through."

"At least you turned clumsy after you got off the ladder."

Enna sighed and looked at her hem—thank goodness for Narnian footwear! If she'd been wearing Galmanian sandals, her ankle would have been bared for all to see! "Oh, dear…"

"Thank goodness it was your frock and not your head."

"You and your optimism." Enna shook her head. "I'll have to go and change, now. Can you finish the tree without me?"

"You mean without your distractions? Yes." Aramir threw her a wink and went back up the tree.

"I'll kick out the ladder," Enna threatened, picking up her skirts and wrinkling her nose up at him.

"And I'll drop baubles," Aramir returned.

"Oo, you wouldn't dare." Enna turned and marched off the dais, the torn bit of her hem fluttering in the breeze she was making.

"Maybe I would!" he shouted after.

Enna ignored this, flipping her untidy plait over her shoulder as she left the hall. She may need a change of dress, but she also needed a few minutes alone to successfully process this newest bit of information—it was a bit more than she could handle at one moment.

Second, someone will step on your frock and tear it.

She stopped dead in her tracks and clapped a hand to her mouth. The prophecy had come true? That was impossible.

Right?

Without a second thought, she picked up her skirts and ran as fast as she could to her room.