with glad and joyful hearts — for #cairparavelnet’s December event: The Valiant
When winter comes to Narnia for the first time after the Long Winter, it is a different winter.
It was different this time, Lucy could tell.
As the first frost began to crust the ground, she felt the difference between this winter and the White Witch’s winter. The air was sweeter, purer, cleaner—alive, alive in a way it had never felt under the Witch’s touch. It seemed to thrum with the music of Narnia, as it had throughout the spring, summer, and autumn months of her first year in Narnia—that faint heartbeat that skipped and danced through every breeze and swelled with every beam of sunlight that pierced through the clouds.
The first snow had fallen in the middle of the night, silent and heaping up in deep drifts. Lucy had flung open the doors to her balcony the next morning and found that the whole world was white and glittering. Icicles hung from the railing around her balcony, and snow settled in thick piles on the boughs of the trees in Cair Paravel’s orchard.
Cair Paravel’s fires were stoked to crackling blazes, and fauns and satyrs bustled through the halls with ropes of fragrant, fresh garlands and strings of berries. Centaurs arranged boughs of holly and balsam and fir on every mantle and table, tucking pinecones, berries, and chestnuts among the branches.
In the kitchen, dwarves and Talking Beasts cooked up dish after dish, the aroma of their cooking drifting through the halls of Cair Paravel all day and all night. The long trestle tables in the kitchen groaned under the weight of plates of plum pudding, mincemeat pies, great wheels of aged cheese brought out for the season from the cellars, loaves of fresh-baked bread, flagons of spiced wine and cider, tureens of steaming soups and pottages, glazed hams and peafowl, bowls of citrus, and platters of gingerbread cookies.