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17 December 2013 @ 08:11 pm
Fic: ‘Tis the Season: Warmth & comfort between friends.  
Title: ‘Tis the Season: Warmth & comfort between friends.
Fandom: Chronicles of Narnia (movies)
Rating: (G)
Time Period: the Lion, the Witch & the Wardrobe: during the Golden Age.
Summary: Lucy's just plain tuckered out.

Author's Note: This is quick ‘n’ dirty (for definition see the F. A. Q.).

From the moment I first had the idea for this story, it'd not gone away. Writing the first paragraph was hard because I had such a lovely picture of this scene and an idea of how it should go, I wasn't sure justice could be done to it. But I ploughed ahead and I hope I was able to do justice to that idea I had.

All characters contained herein are the intellectual property of C. S. Lewis as well as Andrew Adamson, Ann Peacock, Christopher Markus & Stephen McFeely (their interpretations); I am not affiliated with nor endorsed by them.


Lucy sits, book falling from her hand to her lap. She leans back, lips curling into a smile and her eyes begin to drift closed. Her cheek rests on a hand as the flames snap and pop, flaring up the chimney. She can almost hear that lullaby she remembers from her first visit to Narnia. Soft, it seemed to beguile and lull, daring her eyes to close, the faun before her piping, fading into a capering dance …

“Fish and chips, dear?”

Lucy starts, the book now comfortable in her lap and a dancing faun vanished before a plate of (whole, raw) fish and (wood) chips.

“Uh … no, thank you.” Manners slowly amble into her mind.

“Poor dear,” Mrs Beaver says as she pits the plate on a nearby table and tucks a fallen blanket around Lucy's lap (after she sneaks the book onto that table first). “Plain tuckered out from Queening!”

“Not to be rude,” Lucy sits up, “but why are you here? I mean,” she hastily adds, “I thought you and Mister Beaver were wintering in your dam.”

“We wouldn't think of it, dear,” Mrs Beaver fusses, pulling a nearby chair closer. “Not your first Christmas in Narnia!”

The blanket loosens as Lucy leans forward, reaching for Mrs Beaver's paws and missing as Mrs Beaver reaches for the plate. She corrects herself when Mrs Beaver settles back in the chair. “Are you sure I can't tempt you?” She holds the plate toward Lucy, who shakes her head. Mrs Beaver sighs and puts the plate in her lap.

A log pops in the hearth and Mrs Beaver smiles kindly. “Such tales we have!” She picks up the fish and Lucy looks at the dancing. “Such tales I can't wait to tell you!”
Armchair DM: Igor: A Rod Of Silencearmchairdm on December 17th, 2013 09:57 am (UTC)
F. J.: shalowater: golden candlesmorethanacandle on December 17th, 2013 02:48 pm (UTC)
It's a very lovely picture, isn't it?