A Promise Across Time [Completed]

The Wandering Thoughts on Christmas

December 1964
Sweden

****RAVEN

The streets bustled with the vibrant energy of Christmas Eve. Vendors called out, peddling their goods, and the scent of freshly baked pastries and roasting chestnuts wafted through the air. Children ran excitedly, tugging at their parents' coats as they pointed to decorations and toys displayed in the shop windows. Laughter echoed, blending with the occasional ring of church bells in the distance.

Grandma Arntine and I were part of this cheerful crowd, navigating through the market, hand in hand, as we gathered supplies for our own celebration. It was a busy day, but my thoughts were elsewhere, adrift in memories of Mayfair and my life before this peculiar time travel.

In Mayfair, Christmas was equally grand, but it had a certain sophistication that I realized I missed. The lavish decorations, the elegant parties, and the anticipation of our family's annual gathering in Valencia, Spain. The thought of the Manor filled my mind—it could hold five hundred guests, and every New Year's celebration was a dazzling affair. The Lancasters and Meyers, coming together from all over the world, would fill the grand halls with laughter, music, and the clink of champagne glasses. The lavishness of it all was unmatched, and the event was known for its grandeur and its scandals alike.

I couldn't help but wonder—how long had it been in my own time? If I ever returned, would it be like in the movies? Would I step back into my world and find that no time had passed at all, like in Narnia, where everything remains frozen until the characters reemerge from the wardrobe? It was an unsettling thought, but it lingered in the back of my mind.

"You're spacing out, dear. What are you thinking about?" Grandma Arntine's voice pulled me from my thoughts as she gave my hand a gentle squeeze.

I smiled softly and turned to face her, her kind eyes full of warmth. "Just thinking about home, I guess."

She nodded knowingly but didn't press further. "Christmas here must feel quite different."

"It does," I admitted. "But not in a bad way. It's simpler here. More... meaningful." I paused, realizing that the glitz and glamour of my family's gatherings often masked something deeper. "In Mayfair, everything is grand, but sometimes it feels like the heart of it gets lost in all the sparkle."

Grandma Arntine chuckled softly, her weathered hand holding mine firmly. "You're wise beyond your years, Raven. Some people spend their whole lives chasing that sparkle without realizing what's truly important."

I glanced at her, her face framed by the golden glow of the setting sun. It was a comforting sight, and I couldn't help but feel a wave of gratitude wash over me. Being with her and Frida in this quieter life had taught me more about family than I could have ever learned in Mayfair's grandest mansions.

"Frida has her show tonight, doesn't she?" I asked, changing the subject as we passed by a vendor selling wreaths made of holly and pine.