Title: Thank You

Author: Elfpen

Genre: Mush, Christmas

Summary: Back in England, the Pevensies prepare for Christmas; Mrs. Pevensie senses something different about her children.

A/N: I try and write at least one Christmas/winter fiction every year – this year's edition is a Narnia fic. Enjoy, everyone!

"Long live Aslan… And Merry Christmas!"

–Father Christmas, Narnia, LWW

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Helen Pevensie pulled her pale pink robe tighter around herself as she sipped at her warm tea. A small but bright candle sat on the quaint round table beside her, and the flame cast a flickering globe of illumination that lighted the small seating area softly. With a small sigh, she sunk back into her worn green plush chair, which had definitely seen better days, and looked out the window. It was nighttime in London – almost midnight. The streets were empty, save the occasional stray cat, and the lamppost at the street corner was the only visible light outside. It cast a beautiful shimmer over the blanket of white that had fallen over the roads. It was a very relaxing, serene sight.

But Helen Pevensie's mind was not at rest. She wasn't worried about what she would put on the table the next day, and she wasn't stressing over the upcoming holiday. She wasn't even worrying over her husband, who was off fighting in the war. No, on that night, She was fretting over her children, Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy. It wasn't that they had done anything terribly wrong or awful, it was quite the opposite. Her children had been acting like perfect angels lately – and that is what worried her.

Only about a month ago had they returned from their stay at the Krike mansion. Once they got home, they were all too eager to tell her stories of their stay – one story in particular, of a strange place called Narnia. As they said, it was a magical, wonderful land that had somehow ended up inside Professor Krike's old wardrobe. Helen had hardly taken the tales seriously. Peter and Susan were just humoring the younger ones, she reasoned. After all, it was quite impossible and all together ridiculous that a wood full of creatures and beasts could fit inside a tiny wardrobe. But, there was one thing about their stories that bemused her.

Aslan. It was a name, she had learned from her children. Each time the name was spoken among them, Peter and Edmund almost visibly straightened, and Lucy got the most joyful look in her eye. Clearly, in their games and imaginary lands, Aslan was a wonderful character. She had almost laughed out loud when Lucy confessed to her that Aslan was a lion – a talking lion! Helen had been amused by the idea at the time, but later became very confused. Unless her memory was faulty, Lucy was – or at least had been – absolutely terrified of lions, petrified at the mere thought of them. How could she imagine such a wonderful character to be something that she feared so greatly? Indeed, Aslan was a puzzle that she was still trying to work out. Perhaps she would ask Peter about it later.

Helen sipped at her tea some more, contemplating their wild stories for a bit longer. Of course, Narnia and Aslan were all make-believe. There was no way that they could be true. But, then again, there had been another change in her children that was definitely not imaginary, for Helen had seen it herself, everyday since their return.

Each of her children had been transformed since their stay with Professor Krike. Peter seemed much more comfortable in his place as the eldest, and had a more mature air about him. Susan had lost her former bluntness and replaced it with a gentle, diplomatic demeanor. Edmund in particular had changed completely – instead of lies and snobbishness, he was full of smiles and kindness. Last of all, Lucy had grown out of being the little girl she once was, and now seemed wise beyond her years.

And it wasn't just their personalities that had changed. They way they treated each other was completely different. Unlike the tangled rivalry they had once been, they were now the best of friends. They almost never argued, and when they did, they would make up before the sun went down. The enmity between Peter and Edmund was gone, Susan and Peter's bickering had ended, and most drastic, Edmund and Lucy were now practically inseparable. Helen didn't know what to make of it. She wasn't sure that the stories and the dramatic changes were connected, if it was the work of Professor Krike, or if all four of her children had somehow spontaneously grown up over night.

Helen jumped slightly as the clock tower brought her out of her thoughts. She tried to shake off her worries, rising from her chair as the bell tolled twelve. Sleep. She thought. Sleep is definitely what I need right now. Reaching for the candle from the table, Helen quietly treaded up the stairs, heading for her room. On the way there, however, she stopped in the hallway when the sound of hushed voices caught her ear. They were coming from Edmund's door, which was ever so slightly ajar. She also noted that Lucy's door was open.

"It's alright, Lu." She could hear Edmund say. "You heard what Mr. Krike said. We'll go back."

A soft sigh – Lucy. There was no talking for a moment, before Lucy's quiet voice filled the silence.

"I miss Him, Edmund." She said, her voice thick. She sniffled. Shock came across Helen's features. Was Lucy, her little Lucy, crying? She felt the impulse to go and wrap her daughter in her arms, and tell her that everything would be alright, but she restrained herself from doing so – she remained quiet, waiting for Edmund's response.

"I know." Edmund said, understanding. "I miss Him a lot too. But He did say that he was in our world too, Lu. It'll be alright. We'll find him." Edmund said, then, a little more light-hearted: "Either that, or He'll find us." The two children chuckled quietly. "After all," Edmund said, in a most knowing and almost mischievous tone, "He's not a tame lion."

"No," Lucy agreed wistfully. "But He is good." It sounded like she was reliving a pleasant memory.

"Very good." Edmund agreed quietly. Helen could hear the rustling of fabric, and silently snuck over to peek into the room. The sight that met her shocked her and warmed her heart. Lucy's tiny body was folded up into Edmund's lap. Even though Edmund was only a couple of years older than Lucy, he had grown enough that she comfortably fit into his lap, with his arms wrapped around her shoulders. Lucy sniffed slightly, and leaned her head against Edmund's chest. Edmund just held her while she wept quietly, and occasionally murmured something to his sister, inaudible to their mother.

Helen was taken aback. She was used to this kind of behavior from Peter – he would stay with Lucy after she had a nightmare, hold her when she worried about their father, but… Edmund? It was unheard of.

Realizing that she had been standing there for far too long, Helen shook herself out of the trance, blinking back a few tears before heading to her room.

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Days past by. Helen still spent a good part of her day wondering and worrying over her children's strange behavior, but she was beginning to appreciate it more, accepting that it was indeed here to stay, and not some temporary dream come true. Even so, she was at a completely loss as to where the change had come from. However, her worrying had turned into wondering, and she was not quite as on edge. Still, her children were happily oblivious to their mother's ponderings. Even so, Helen still wondered if she would ever learn the answer to the mystery.

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Lucy Pevensie, out of all of the Pevensies, was definitely a morning person. And unfortunately for Peter Pevensie, who was definitely not a morning person, his littlest sister had found an occasion so important that she saw fit to wake her eldest brother by pouncing on his sleeping form like a romping lion cub.

It was Christmas.

"Peter, Peter, Wake up! Wake up! It's Christmas!" Lucy excitedly shook her brother's shoulder as she bounced up and down on his bed.

"Lucy, what are you doing up?" Peter asked, his sleepy voice hoarse. He squinted into the dull morning light. "It's barely light out." He said, rolling back over into his pillow. Lucy sighed exasperatedly and tugged the covers off of her brother. He flinched, blindly groping about for the warmth that had been so cruelly stolen from him.

"It's Christmas, Peter! Get up!" Lucy cried happily, as if this would encourage her sleepy brother to rise from his bed. "Get up! Get up!" She said again. Peter sighed heavily.

"All right, all right, I'm up, I'm up." Peter insisted, motioning for Lucy to quiet down.

Practically jumping off the bed, Lucy sprinted down the hallway, Where Susan and Edmund were quietly walking out of their rooms. Susan smiled at Lucy's antics, and Edmund smirked as he took in the sight of his brother trudging out of his room.

"You alright, Pete?" He asked.

"How can she be so active at this time of day?" The half-asleep teen asked. Edmund laughed, and the three followed Lucy down stairs, where there mother was standing by the Christmas tree.

"Merry Christmas, Mum!" Lucy flung herself about her mother's waist, and Helen laughed as she returned the embrace. "Merry Christmas, Lucy dear." She said. In turn, she hugged and kissed all of her children, even Edmund.

"It looks like Father Christmas has brought some special things for you, this year!" Helen said, smiling as she gestured to the colorfully wrapped presents under the tree. They were all smiles, and Edmund said:

"To bad he's not here. I wasn't there last time, after all." Edmund said with a smirk, looking at Peter. "Perhaps I would have gotten a sword." The children laughed, and Helen could only smile at whatever it was that her children were talking about.

"Go on, unwrap them." She urged happily. She loved watching their faces as they revealed their new treasures. The children need no more encouragement. They made quick work of littering the floor with wrapping paper, and were soon laughing and giggling with each other playing with their presents. Lucy was hugging her new stuffed bear close – it was almost as big as her. She then proclaimed proudly that she was going to name it Bugly. Peter was happily examining his new game of cricket, and promised Edmund that he would play with him later – as long as he didn't break any windows. Susan wore her new silver necklace with pride, gawking at the intricate carving on the pendent, and Edmund (though he didn't get a sword) was very pleased with the chess set that he'd received.

As Helen watched them, she sighed happily. Unlike years past, when they all played with their things apart from one another, in different corners, silently, they were all laughing and hugging and smiling – having a grand time. Peter and Edmund played chess as Susan tickled Lucy, who was still clutching her bear. Soon they all joined into a collaborative tickling battle, and were laughing so hard and loud that Helen was sure the neighbors could hear. Then Peter, Susan, and Lucy teamed up on Edmund, who soon found himself in the middle of a group hug. A smiling, laughing, happy group hug. They almost didn't need the presents, Helen thought. They were a real family.

Suddenly, in the way that an unexpected visitor comes to one's door, a strange thought entered Helen's mind, and however far-fetched and completely inconceivable it was, she couldn't help but entertain it, if not for a moment.

Perhaps, by some small chance, this 'Narnia' wasn't just make-believe, after all. Perhaps Aslan, the talking lion, was, in fact, real. And maybe, just maybe, He was the one who had given her children the joy and love that they expressed so openly to each other now. Helen almost wanted to laugh at herself for thinking it, but she was sure that if she ever happened across a talking lion, she would hug him.

"I'm not sure if you're real or not, Aslan," She whispered quietly to herself, "But if you are…" She smiled, a few tears falling down her cheeks as her children's joyous laughter rang in her ears. "Thank you."

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A/N: I hope you enjoyed it. Merry Christmas, Everyone! God Bless, and Long Live Aslan!