Narnian Wing Christmas
None of the Pevensies much like winter. There are too many memories in the snow: memories of a witch, and a beloved world under her usurping dominion; memories of stone statues, and confused hiding, and the sound of shivery sleighbells. There are happy memories too, of course -- snowball fights, and hot drinks and furs, and romps and laughter and the Great Snow Dance -- but what it comes down to, really, is that Aslan brings the spring, and winter belongs to the witch.
Christmas, though, is another matter.
First come stockings at dawn, full of fruit and small presents: toys for Peter's new ward Clement, a pair of earrings each for Lucy and Susan, a watch for Peter and pastels for Edmund and a sailor's spyglass each for Eustace and Caspian, and more besides, and books all around. Then breakfast around the Christmas tree -- with crackers, and Susan laughs that crackers at breakfast is really quite ridiculous, isn't it, but she pulls hers apart with as much glee as anyone and proudly wears the pink paper crown inside. "Sister," Peter tells her mock solemnly, "thy crown in Narnia wasn't half a patch on that for elegance," and she laughs again and throws a satsuma at him. (Tirian takes a break from staring bemusedly at his own green paper crown to chuckle -- still confusedly -- at the two of them.) The room is a riot of color and greenery, including paper chains and old ornaments Susan brought from their London home and a wide globe of mistletoe Lucy put up specifically so she could drag Caspian under it. There's no chance for carolling here, really, but they sing together anyway, teaching each other songs from England and Narnia and old London Below; Aravis, delighted by the whole idea of carolling, even throws in a few Calormene songs that seem to fit the mood.
Dinner is a small feast, and fetching most of it from Bar means no one has to spend the day cooking. Peter and Edmund collar Caspian and Eustace to help cart it triumphantly back, while the girls heat the ale posset and mulled cider and Tirian helps Clement keep the dragons occupied and out of their hair. Clement is, alas, easily distracted from that task by the much more gratifying prospect of being the one to explain all the traditions of Christmas to Aravis, who despite the Pevensies' explanations before the holiday is a little confused by the details of it.
And then comes dessert, and another round of crackers -- Wizarding ones, this time, and so Clement spends the evening sparkly and Edmund spends it bright blue, while a tiny illusion of a dog runs around everyone's ankles and chases the dragons -- and the tale of Ebenezer Scrooge told in turns by the Pevensies and Eustace, and more presents. There are bundles and bags and boxes, a warm cloak for Aravis against the Northern cold of Narnia and a bow and quiver of arrows for Clement and gloves embroidered with a red Narnian Lion for Tirian -- something for everyone, and several somethings for most. Peter distributes them from under the tree, as is proper for the High King, and (as is proper for an older brother) has to put up with Lucy informing him that he'll have to eat far more Christmas pudding if he wants to make a good Father Christmas.
It's not quite England, and it's not quite Narnia.
But it is family, and more than they've had in years. And it's laughter, and love, and a very happy Christmas indeed.
Christmas, though, is another matter.
First come stockings at dawn, full of fruit and small presents: toys for Peter's new ward Clement, a pair of earrings each for Lucy and Susan, a watch for Peter and pastels for Edmund and a sailor's spyglass each for Eustace and Caspian, and more besides, and books all around. Then breakfast around the Christmas tree -- with crackers, and Susan laughs that crackers at breakfast is really quite ridiculous, isn't it, but she pulls hers apart with as much glee as anyone and proudly wears the pink paper crown inside. "Sister," Peter tells her mock solemnly, "thy crown in Narnia wasn't half a patch on that for elegance," and she laughs again and throws a satsuma at him. (Tirian takes a break from staring bemusedly at his own green paper crown to chuckle -- still confusedly -- at the two of them.) The room is a riot of color and greenery, including paper chains and old ornaments Susan brought from their London home and a wide globe of mistletoe Lucy put up specifically so she could drag Caspian under it. There's no chance for carolling here, really, but they sing together anyway, teaching each other songs from England and Narnia and old London Below; Aravis, delighted by the whole idea of carolling, even throws in a few Calormene songs that seem to fit the mood.
Dinner is a small feast, and fetching most of it from Bar means no one has to spend the day cooking. Peter and Edmund collar Caspian and Eustace to help cart it triumphantly back, while the girls heat the ale posset and mulled cider and Tirian helps Clement keep the dragons occupied and out of their hair. Clement is, alas, easily distracted from that task by the much more gratifying prospect of being the one to explain all the traditions of Christmas to Aravis, who despite the Pevensies' explanations before the holiday is a little confused by the details of it.
And then comes dessert, and another round of crackers -- Wizarding ones, this time, and so Clement spends the evening sparkly and Edmund spends it bright blue, while a tiny illusion of a dog runs around everyone's ankles and chases the dragons -- and the tale of Ebenezer Scrooge told in turns by the Pevensies and Eustace, and more presents. There are bundles and bags and boxes, a warm cloak for Aravis against the Northern cold of Narnia and a bow and quiver of arrows for Clement and gloves embroidered with a red Narnian Lion for Tirian -- something for everyone, and several somethings for most. Peter distributes them from under the tree, as is proper for the High King, and (as is proper for an older brother) has to put up with Lucy informing him that he'll have to eat far more Christmas pudding if he wants to make a good Father Christmas.
It's not quite England, and it's not quite Narnia.
But it is family, and more than they've had in years. And it's laughter, and love, and a very happy Christmas indeed.