Twelfth Night

"Masquerade! Paper faces on parade…Hide your face, so the world will never find you! … Every face a different shade...there's another mask behind you!…Fool and king...Trace of rouge. Face of beast."

~ 'Masquerade,' The Phantom of the Opera, Andrew Lloyd Webber

When they arrived in the courtyard of Cair Anvard and swung off their horses, Deidre was waiting for them, laughing and nearly bursting with excitement.

"What on earth has happened?" Lucy cried, running to her. Smiling, Susan followed at a more sedate pace.

"You'll find out," Deidre said, taking Lucy hand and dragging her inside.

"Today," she declared, as she ascended the stairs, "Is Twelfth Night!"

"Well, yes, I know that." Lucy said.

"Tonight is the night of the masque." Deidre said.

"The what?" Lucy asked.

"It's a masquerade ball!" Susan exclaimed, opening the door of Deidre's apartments.

"It's the biggest ball of Christmas," Deidre added.

"A masquerade?" Lucy exclaimed, "Does that mean we get to dress up?"

"It does," Deidre said, laughing, "I hope you don't mind, but I've taken the liberty of choosing your costumes."

~o*o~

Lucy stared at herself in the mirror and realized with a shock that she didn't even recognize herself. She had been disguised as a bluebird. The dress, she decided, must have taken Deidre hours to make. It was heavy blue brocade, embroidered with silver thread and accented with silver lace and feathers. A pair of wings were on her shoulders and a heavily decorated mask was in her hand, with elaborate beak. In the other hand she held a huge blue feathered fan. Her hair, she giggled to see it, had been coaxed into ringlets and powdered blue.

Her face didn't even look right. Her eyebrows had been blocked out and redrawn in high dark arches and her mouth was impossibly heart shaped and red. Dark lines curled from the corners of her eyes.

Laughing, she turned to look at Susan. Clyte was still painting her face.

Susan wore a splendid white dress scrolled with silver embroidery. Her hair had been powdered white, her face painted with white makeup. She too had wings on her back.

"I don't think I really look much like a swan," Susan said, staring at herself.

"Oh yes you do!" Lucy said, jumping up in the air.

"Are you trying to fly, bluebird?" Susan asked.

A knock came at the door and Deidre entered. Susan and Lucy both turned to look at her.

Deidre was a peacock. She wore a dress of green and blue and a fan of peacock feathers had been fixed to the back of her dress and quavered above her head. She held up her mask and eyed them through it.

"Why," she said, "I do believe two birds have flown through the window."

"And another has come to join them," Susan said, smiling, "the costumes are simply splendid. Thank you so much!"

"You look splendid," Deidre replied. "Shall we proceed to the great hall?"

"Of course," Susan said standing and attempting not to trip on her voluminous skirt.

Lucy was nervous. Nervous and terribly excited. Everybody would be in costume. She wondered how Edmund and Peter would look. The walk down the hallways seemed too long and she could hardly contain her laughter.

"We look so funny!" Lucy cried happily.

"I think we look uncommonly nice," Susan said. "They are such lovely dresses."

They turned another corner and there before them the great oaken doors of the great hall stood open. The doormen bowed, smiling and they smiled back as they swept into the room.

"How lovely!" Lucy cried.

Lovely indeed.

The great hall had been decorated for the past eleven days with evergreen, holly, mistletoe, bells, garlands – every beautiful thing. The Yule log still burned in the massive fireplace and the place was lit by the flickering light of the chandeliers.

It was a blaze of color. Everyone was brilliantly dressed as every conceivable thing. There were birds, horses, cats, mermaids and some things that didn't seem to be anything in particular. The gowns were decorated with cascades of gold and silver lace, feathers, embroidery. The clothes of the men were no less rich.

"Your ladyships."

They turned to see someone bow to them. He was dressed in red and white alternating on each side. He wore a funny little hat with bells and there were bells on the toes of his curling shoes. He had a monkey on his shoulder.

"Your lordship?" Deidre said. "Do we know you?"

Grinning, the man removed his mask and bowed again.

"Lord Peridan!" they all exclaimed at once. Lucy couldn't help but laugh. The solemn Lord Peridan dressed as a jester? What a joke!

~o*o~

Edmund rather liked it.

He could stare at people from behind his mask and no one would ever know he was looking at them. The only part he didn't like was the makeup. It was silly and made him look ridiculous...especially the powdering the hair red part.

He kept his eyes peeled for Susan and Lucy, but he hadn't spotted them yet. Peter stood beside him and looked…remarkable. Most of the costumes were rather stunning. The only person, he speculated, who wasn't in costume was Martin. He had been given a mask by Flavis, but Martin seemed to have forgotten its existence.

"Good evening, King Edmund."

Edmund looked down to see Treve sitting on the floor in front of him.

"Hullo," Edmund said.

"You don't look at all like a fox," Treve informed him with dissatisfaction.

"You knew I was one," Edmund said, smiling behind his mask.

"Hullo Treve," Peter said.

Treve looked up at him thoughtfully, "I haven't even a faint idea of what you are supposed to be."

Peter laughed and pulled off his mask.

"I'm supposed to be a lion…do you like the hair?"

Treve's jaw dropped. Peter's hair had been powdered with some sort of gold metallic stuff.

"You look…interesting."

"Quite," Peter pulled his mask back on.

Ahead of them the crowd parted and a little girl dressed all in blue galloped up to them.

"There you are!" she exclaimed, "I've been looking everywhere for you! You both look simply wonderful! Do you like my costume?"

"You look very pretty," Peter said, smiling. "Where's Susan?"

"She's over there with Deidre."

"Well if I knew where that was I'd have spotted her by now."

"Right there."

Lucy pointed. She could just see Susan, looking beautiful in a cloud of white brocade and feathers.

Peter whistled. "What did they do to her hair?"

"It's not as bad as what they did to yours," Lucy giggled.

"Don't make me feel like more of an idiot then I am," Peter said.

Lucy laughed. "Do you know who everybody is?"

"I don't recognize a soul," Peter said.

"I do," said Edmund. "That chap over there with the great brown horse head is Lord Dar, you know, one of King Lune's brothers. And that one with the white horse head is Lord Darrin."

Lucy looked. They both looked remarkably funny. She broke into laughter.

"They both have tails!"

Strains of music had begun and slowly everybody formed themselves in two long lines, facing each other.

"I think I'll stand here and watch." Peter said.

"Somebody's got to dance with me," Lucy said, grabbing Edmund's hand and dragging him to the end of the line, "Will you?"

"No, I won't," Edmund said, taking his place.

Lucy didn't really know how to dance and neither did Edmund, but after dancing for ten nights they knew the general direction to walk and there were plenty of helpful people to shout advice.

"Someday I'll learn this very well," Lucy said, swinging around with Lord Darrin and nearly stepping on his toe.

"I think you're doing well," he replied earnestly, "I never could dance. I always walked into people and knocked them down."

Lucy laughed and swung down the line.

"Hello again," Lord Peridan said, twirling her around.

"Why did you pick that costume?" Lucy asked wonderingly.

"I decided on the thing that would become me the least," Lord Peridan said.

Lord Dar was next. He was very tall. Neither of them really looked at all like their brother the king.

"Hello!" she said cheerfully.

"Hello!" he replied.

Then she was back with Edmund and they were marching down the center of the line to the other end.

"Where is King Lune, anyway?" Lucy asked.

~o*o~

King Lune was on the dais with Susan and Deidre.

Deidre didn't really want to dance and Susan had been too shy to accept the many offers she received.

"It's rather embarrassing," she said sadly.

"I hope you'll dance before the evening is through," Deidre said, glancing at her, "With somebody other than your brothers. There are plenty of nice people, there's Peridan, Dar, Darrin, Lord Bar doesn't bite, there's Lord Ron and Ronnin…"

"I suppose," Susan said.

King Lune had one of the nicest costumes of all. He had donned a great white beard and was dressed in robes of scarlet. As he said himself, no Christmas gathering is complete without Father Christmas.

The dancing went on, whirling colors and beautiful music. Lucy danced every dance, though not with Edmund. Edmund had dropped to the sidelines near the orchestra. Susan at last danced. Peter led her onto the floor and managed to stumble through a dance after her.

At last, the dancing was over for a time and the servants carried in the tables and chairs and everyone found a place. Susan sat between Deidre and Peter. Lucy sat between Dar and Darrin and Edmund sat with Peridan at the end.

Masks were taken off and everybody shouted with laughter as they recognized everybody else. Then there was silence. King Lune had stood.

An enormous pie on a cart had been wheeled into the Great Hall. With a great show, King Lune walked down the dais and stood looking at it with hungry eyes. One of the maids handed him a knife and he held it aloft. Everybody leaned forward.

The pie was beautiful. It was baked to a lovely golden brown and Susan wondered how there could possibly exist an oven that big.

Slowly, King Lune brought the knife down.

They had all expected him to stab the thing, but instead, he began to gingerly cut a slice. Everyone leaned forward a little more.

Suddenly, the crust lifted into the air and a mass of birds throbbed from under it. They landed everywhere; on heads, on the floor, on the table…everywhere. And they began to sing, brilliant singing. Lucy recognized Chibb as one of them, a little ball of fluff still hovering in the air.

The birds were at the very height of their song when it began to snow. Susan stared, shocked, as it spiraled through the air and settled in drifts everywhere. Everyone sat, awestruck by the beauty of it.

"Why…why, it's paper!" Susan whispered.

Deidre nodded, smiling.

The singing began to slow. The paper snow stopped and the spell was broken. The room erupted into applause, a sound like rushing water.

The maids came forward and swept the paper aside. Then the real food entered.

There was everything you could imagine. Hams, venison, pork, sausages; all in different sorts of sauces. Pyramids of fruit, huge pastries designed to look like ships, castles, animals and people. There was wine and cider and eggnog, there was mead and wassail. There was roasted fowl, all put back in their skins and gracing the table just as they had graced the garden in life.

While they ate, a theater company began to set up their props are the far end of the great hall. They erected trees and a house and even made it seem that a stream was running across the floor. At last, they presented their play.

It was a delightful thing indeed. No one could stop laughing.

There were at least three different plots that all interwound in the end. There were fairies and lovesick couples and not so lovesick couples and magic love flowers that got the lovesick couples mixed up. At last, it was ironed out in the end and the not so lovesick couple was properly lovesick.

~o*o~

Edmund had probably spent his whole time revolving between Lord Peridan and the musicians set up on the sidelines. He had always been fascinated by fiddles and he never tired of watching the fiddlers play.

It was with some shyness he finally asked if it was hard to play one. Within five minutes, he was sitting in a chair with a fiddle under his chin and all the fiddlers watching eagerly while he attempted to pick out 'Twinkle, twinkle little star'.

Peter spent a good deal of his time talking to Lord Darrin. Lord Darrin was a good deal younger then King Lune or Lord Dar. In fact, he was only a few months older then Peter himself. They spoke on horses for a while; mostly sparked off by the horse head Lord Darrin wore on his head. Darrin was a great horse lover and Peter rather felt that he was going to be too.

Susan found herself talking to Lord Dar. He had discovered that Susan didn't know the constellations and he endeavored to tell her of them. Susan thought they were lovely. There was a Ship and a Bear and the Lion had the North Star in his paw.

"It always reminds us," Lord Dar said with gravity, "That Aslan is our direction."

Lucy was feeling decidedly ill and she couldn't seem to walk straight. She sat down hard in a chair and Deidre looked into her face.

"If I didn't know better I'd say you were drunk," Deidre declared with finality.

"I only had eggnog," Lucy's world was decidedly spinning.

"Oh my poor child," Deidre said. "Didn't you know eggnog is more than half rum?"

~o*o~

Lucy wasn't the only person who felt a bit tipsy. Peter had the unhappy consequence of having a whole glass of red wine dumped down the front of his beautiful golden velvet doublet by a girl who was trying to flutter her eyelashes at him.

He stared down himself in disgust, "I think I'll go change."

"That would probably be a good idea," Darrin agreed.

A/N: We've tried to put the feeling of the feast into this chapter.

Lucy and the Eggnog...Narnia and surrounds would have made eggnog in the old way and children would also drink it. In the Middle Ages everyone drank alcohol.