Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't...

Summary: The first Christmas King Frank the First and Queen Helen experienced in Narnia was even more magical than they expected. Oneshot for DiscordandRhyme for the Narnia Still Lives forum Secret Santa Exchange.

A/N: Christmas oneshot. This is set in my A Light in the Darkness universe, but this oneshot can be read as a standalone.

First Christmas

ӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁ

The crisp, light scent of fresh fallen snow filled the air before it blended with the rich scent of evergreens. Crunching through the snow, Helen laughed merrily as Frank lost his footing and slid down the slight embankment, gathering quite a dusting of snow on his heavy tunic and breeches (for he had already draped his own cape over her own) when he got back to his feet to the delight of their assorted subjects. Frank looked up at her, eyes twinkling with the same mischief of the young lad who had tugged on her braids when they were schoolchildren. He waved his arms, "Don't let her slip, lads!"

Helen laughed (it was that or yet another bout of tears) as her husband's words prompted Chiron and Taurus to each take an arm and carry her down the embankment. The Centaur and Minotaur gently set her down right in front of Frank. She shook her head then reached out a slim gloved hand to brush away the snow on his shoulders and chest, "My dear Frank, was that really necessary?"

His boyish grin was completely unrepentant. "Yes, Nellie, it was and far better you be pampered and carried than to risk you taking injury, especially now." His hand rested for a brief moment on her rounded belly, and then he tugged his cloak closer around her and pecked her cheek. She squealed at the cold touch and laughed as she pushed him away. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close as they resumed walking through the forest, "Do you see one you want, Nellie girl?"

A soft smile curved her lips and she pointed a large snow-covered fir tree. After seven months of living in Narnia, she could tell by the lack of that extra spark or glow it was not a Tree. "That one. Isn't it the most marvelous tree you've seen? It will be perfect. Oh but make sure no one's made it a home."

Frank laughed, "Well, a chap can't be cutting down someone's home. We'll check before any cutting takes place, lass. Why don't you take the ladies and see to the rest of the greenery?"

She nodded and gave him a quick kiss before turning to the women of Narnia, beckoning them close while the menfolk all gathered around Frank. "We need to find holly, ivy, and-"

"Don't forget the mistletoe, Nellie girl! It's my favorite Yule plant!"

Helen blushed as she added, "And mistletoe. We'll fill the baskets we brought."

A wee Lamb gamboled forward, "How come, Queen Helen? How come?"

"Well, it's part of the celebration for Christmas. It is a reminder of life and the coming spring to have greenery about in the midst of winter." At least, that is how her grandmother had explained it. Helen felt a wave of sorrow pass over her as her thoughts abruptly returned to her family. Pressing one gloved hand to her belly, a thrill of joy spread through her, sweeping away the sorrow, as she felt the babe's kicks.

The Lamb blinked up at her, then wiggled her tail, "But, what about the mistletoe, Queen Helen? How come it's King Frank's favorite Yule plant? How come?"

Helen cleared her throat, hoping the gathered Narnians (she noticed that the men were listening closely as well) would think her reddened cheeks were due to the cold and not because she was blushing. "Well, it is tradition to hang mistletoe sprigs and whenever a lad meets a lass beneath it, he must kiss her."

For a moment, no one spoke as the Narnians considered the new information. And then the same little Lamb who'd questioned her bleated, "Eeeeeewwww, kissing."

Everyone burst out laughing and the wee Lamb gamboled back to her mother as one of the Jackdaws cawed merrily, "The two hundredth joke! That was the two hundredth joke!" Helen wondered when the Jacdaw would stop counting jokes, probably not until the number was so large even he gave up.

Returning to the task at hand, it did not take long for them to find more than enough of the greenery, especially since the menfolk who weren't aiding with the tree cutting and the collection of the Yule Log decided to scrounge up some extra baskets and fill them to overflowing with mistletoe. Helen had a feeling that Frank jovially encouraged them to undertake the task. Finally, shivering, red-cheeked, and laughing, the crowd returned to Cair Paravel. Helen threw herself into the business of organizing the enthusiastic if not always coordinated efforts of her people to decorate the Cair in readiness for Christmas.

ӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁ

On Christmas Eve, Helen stood by one of the long oaken tables laden with food of all kinds, and especially mince pies. Of course, as Frank had pointed out earlier, there had been an abundance of mince pies for the last week as Helen had found she simply couldn't get enough of them and she'd barely tolerated any other food. Tonight she wore a red gown and a wreath of holly, the red berries standing out sharply among the green leaves, replaced her crown with emeralds. Helen laughed as she watched Frank endeavor to teach the Narnians the fine art of wassailing. He was attempting to explain the tradition and then finally he raised the wassail bowl high and shouted, "Ah, wassailing 'tis a fine old country tradition and it allows us to sing and spread good cheer, so sing, drink, and be merry, my friends!" Then he burst into a song, his rich voice clearly heard above the crowd's chatter and laughter, "Wassail! Wassail! Here's to thee, Narnians large and small! Here's to our protective tree! May its leaves be ever green! Aslan's blessing on us all! And here's to the loveliest lass to be seen, my Nellie, my Queen!"

Helen blushed and smiled as Frank took a drink from the wassail bowl then passed it to the Wood god next to him as the crowd cheerfully sang out, "Wassail! Wassail!"

Clapping in time with the music, Helen recalled other, rowdier versions of the Wassailing song from her childhood. The Yule Log was crackling in the largest fireplace on the other side of the ballroom. It was perfect. Just as she remembered Christmas being at home before Frank sent for her to come to London (he'd been there just over a year before they married when she was fifteen and he nineteen). Home. Christmas was entirely about family at home, even in their little home in London when they couldn't get a proper Christmas tree or Yule Log. She and Frank had been saving every copper ha'penny they could in order to afford the fare to go home and see her parents for Christmas, this very Christmas. Helen sniffled then tugged out a handkerchief, trying to wipe away the sudden onset of tears before anyone noticed.

It seemed little more than a moment or two had passed when Frank's strong arms pulled her into an embrace. Hugging her close and pressing her face against his shoulder, he whispered softly, "Oh Nellie, don't you cry, lass. Don't you cry. I know you miss them, Nellie, but maybe… Why I wouldn't be surprised if perhaps Father Christmas himself agreed to carry a letter back to your parents."

Helen sniffled and patted her cheeks with her handkerchief, "Oh Frank, I don't know if…" She trailed off, the protest that Father Christmas wouldn't be able to do so dying on her lips as she peered over his shoulder at the assorted Narnians who had fallen silent. This was a magical land and if a Lion could call her here when she was in the midst of washing dishes, well, He just might let Father Christmas take a letter home.

"Who's Father Christmas? What is he?" Frank turned to face the crowd, but kept an arm around Helen's shoulders. Helen finished dabbing her tears then spied the little Bobcat kitten who'd asked the questions, his big blue eyes blinked up at them as he asked, "Is he a Bobcat? Why is his name Christmas? Does he have kittens?"

Helen laughed softly and Frank chuckled as he scooped the Kitten up, "And what is your name, young sir?"

The Bobcat kitten pricked his ears as he giggled, "I'm not 'Sir,' I'm Rufus!"

Helen smiled and scratched behind his ears, "Well, Rufus, Father Christmas is not a Bobcat and he's not a Dog or a Centaur or a Minotaur or anything else. I suppose one could say he's most similar to the Wood and River gods. However, I don't believe he has children. He is the embodiment of the spirit of Christmas, which is why he is called "Father Christmas" although I'm quite certain his name is not actually 'Christmas.' It is a title for him. You see, he is a grand old gentlemen who represents generosity and reminds us to care for our neighbors not only at Christmas but all year round. So he will visit at Yuletide, usually around midnight on Christmas Eve, and provide a marvelous feast and gifts for children and adults alike, these gifts are special because they are what that person needs, as he joins the celebration of Christmas."

Helen looked at Frank, silently asking if there was aught he wanted to add, but he merely shook his head and pressed a kiss to her temple. Around them, the feasting and drinking and singing and dancing all began again, but Frank didn't rejoin them right away. Instead, he slipped out of the ballroom. Soon he came back with several pieces of parchment and a quill and inkwell. Smiling like the young lad who'd brought her a kitten to cheer her up when she was too sick to attend services one Sunday, Frank led her to a seat that was comfortably padded with cushions then he set a small writing desk in front of her. He held a sprig of mistletoe over her head and stole a kiss then whispered, "Write, Nellie. You never know if Father Christmas might deliver it."

It took several tries as Helen found she couldn't detail all that had happened, it seemed too strange when confined to parchment. She twirled the quill absently as she mulled over the problem then brightened as she realized what she could do. Not long after she finished and allowed the ink to dry (the writing table was moved to the side but she didn't move from her seat), she heard Chiron call out in a deep, resonate voice, "Midnight! It is midnight and Christmas is upon us!" In the silence immediately following the Centaur's words, Helen thought she heard something outside but then the sound grew louder and more heads turned to look at the doors. Helen listened closer… It couldn't be, but it was… Sleigh bells!

Then the doors of the ballroom were thrown open and in stomped a man. He was tall but his stomach was obviously rounded from years of good feasting and his face was cheery. His beard was long, white, and flowing so that it covered his entire chest. He was dressed in a red robe (as red as the holly berries of her wreath), which was fur-lined and had a hood, and over his shoulder was slung a huge bulging sack. He raised his free hand and shouted, "Hail Aslan and King Frank and Queen Helen! And a very merry Christmas to you all!"

Helen remained seated as she watched Father Christmas (for it could only be he) pass out gifts and take the time to speak to every one of the Narnians, including little Rufus and her Frank. She glanced at her letter and the desire to request Father Christmas deliver it to her parents was overwhelming. Turning back, she started when she realized Father Christmas was standing directly in front of her. He bowed, "Merry Christmas, Queen Helen."

Smiling graciously, Helen bowed her head, "Merry Christmas, Sir. I pray you take whatever respite you require here for you are most welcome."

Father Christmas smiled, his blue eyes twinkling with mirth, "Ah, you are truly a gracious hostess filled with the Christmas spirit, your majesty. And for you, my dear Queen, I shall this once grant your deepest desire for this Yuletide."

Helen smiled.

ӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁ

Weaving through the celebrating crowd, Frank neared Helen and Father Christmas (wasn't it a wonder what a chap would come across in Narnia? Even Father Christmas himself!) who slipped a letter into the deep pockets of his red robe right just as Frank reached them. Father Christmas bowed to them once more, "Now, my dear King and Queen, I must be going. I've many more places to visit this night." He let out a jolly belly laugh then strode to the doors, turning only once to shout, "Long live Aslan! And merry Christmas!" Then he was gone.

Frank squeezed Helen's hand. He was glad his Nellie looked as merry and cheerful as could be. Helping her to her feet, he wrapped his arm around her waist and led her to the middle of the room, "Come now, Nellie, let's hear you sing with me one last wassailing song for the night. Come on, lass. You've a voice like an angel, you do."

Helen shook her head, laughing, but finally she conceded and her sweet soprano filled the air. Then she reached the chorus and Frank boomed out along with all their people, "Wassail! Wassail!" Their voices swelled until they drowned out the sound of Father Christmas's sleigh bells, never even noticing when those sleigh bells finally faded away into the night as they celebrated Narnia's first Christmas.

ӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁ

A/N: Please Read and Review! Final Christmas story for the year (although there is an epilogue I'll be posting later).