Chapter Eight
We'd been walking for hours. The sun was out today, so the air was slightly warmer, which was unusual for Narnia. I had pulled my cloak back, and the Pevensies unbuttoned their coats in the warmth. Lucy was beginning to trail behind, and I kept pace, staying in the rear. Mr. Beaver turned around.
"Come on, humans," he said, beckoning. "While we're still young." I smirked, and Susan turned to her siblings in exasperation. Peter shook his head.
If he tells us to hurry one more time," he started, crouching so that Lucy could climb onto his back. "I'm gonna turn him into a big, fluffy hat!" Susan laughed, and I joined them, walking alongside Peter and Lucy.
"Hurry up! Come on!" yelled Mr. Beaver, and I sighed.
"He is getting a little bossy," Lucy muttered, and I nodded in agreement.
"No! Behind you!" Mrs. Beaver's panicked voice rang out. "It's her!" My blood ran cold, and I turned, catching sight of a sledge, far away, but gaining on us.
"Run!" called Mr. Beaver.
"Go!" I stood behind the Pevensies. "Run!" Peter let Lucy off his back, and they ran, Lucy stumbling over the snow. My heart pounded as I heard the sledge getting closer, and I was relieved to see that we were nearing the edge of the woods.
"Hurry!" I cried as we reached the cover of the trees. Mr. Beaver suddenly skidded to a stop, peering over the edge of the overlook. "Inside!" he cried, gesturing to the small cave covered by snow. I stopped, and ushered the Pevensies before me, before diving down the slope and crouching beneath the snow, my shoulder throbbing painfully.
"Quick!" Mrs. Beaver whispered, and I pressed my back against the rock, snug between Susan and Lucy. The bells on the sledge grew suddenly louder, before they came to stop, seemingly right above us. My heart pounding, I hardly dared to breathe, and I caught sight of a shadow moving on the snow bank before us. I tensed as I heard footsteps, and I positioned myself protectively in front of Susan and Lucy as the shadow stopped, and snow dropped in front of the cave. They were standing on the edge, right above us. We were still, waiting, and the shadow suddenly left, and I prayed that the Witch had left with it. After a moment, Mr. Beaver sniffed the air, and Lucy spoke softly.
"Maybe she's gone," I listened, but heard nothing.
"I suppose I'll go look," Peter started to get up, but Mr. Beaver stopped him.
"No! You're worth nothing to Narnia dead," I smiled softly, and moved from my spot against the wall.
"I'll go," I drew my sword quietly, ignoring Mr. Beaver's protests. "Stay here," I whispered, before taking a deep breath. Holding my weapon aloft, I climbed quietly up the slope, before coming to the top, were I stood, stunned. There was the sledge, but it wasn't the Witch's. Instead, an old man, clad in a dark red ensemble, and with white hair and beard, stood, smiling. I opened my mouth, hardly daring to believe it. "Father Christmas?" I whispered, and he nodded, his eyes twinkling. I sheathed my sword, and turned giddily back to the cave, eager to alert the Pevensies and the Beavers to the lack of danger. I jumped, landing in from of them, and Lucy screamed, surprised. I smiled. "Sorry, but come here!" They stared at me, wide eyed. Still smiling, I laughed. "There's someone here to see you, and it's not the Witch!" I waited, and they slowly crawled out of the cave, before standing apprehensively. As they reached the top of the ledge, Peter and Susan stopped, staring, as Lucy grinned widely. Father Christmas laughed, and I joined the Pevensies as Lucy walked forward.
"Merry Christmas, Sir," she greeted. Father Christmas nodded in agreement.
"It certainly is, Lucy," he said. "Since you have arrived." Susan turned to me, an expression of disbelief on her face.
"Look, I've put up with a lot since I got here, but this…" Peter stepped forward.
"We thought you were the Witch," he explained sheepishly.
"Yes," said Father Christmas. "Yes, sorry about that, but in my defense," he began to take off his gloves. "I have been driving one of these longer than the Witch." Susan stepped forward.
"I thought there was no Christmas in Narnia."
"No," agreed Father Christmas. "Not for a long time. But the hope that you have brought, your Majesties, is finally starting to weaken the Witch." I smiled, and Mrs. Beaver sighed happily. "Still," continued Father Christmas. "I dare say you could do with these," he laughed, reaching into his sleigh and retrieving a large sack, brimming with gifts.
"Presents!" Lucy cried, running forward. Father Christmas chuckled, reaching inside the bag, pulling out a small flask, before handing it to Lucy.
"The juice of the Fireflower," he explained. "One drop will cure any injury." Lucy reached out slowly, taking the flask in her hand. "And though I hope you never have to use it," continued Father Christmas, producing a small dagger, beautifully gilded in gold and silver. Lucy took it hesitantly.
"Thank you, Sir," she said. "I think I could be brave enough," she added quietly.
"I'm sure you could," assured Father Christmas. "But battles are ugly affairs," he smiled, before straightening and reaching back into his pack. Bringing out a lovely ivory quiver of golden arrows, he turned. "Susan," she stepped forward, maintaining a respectful, adult air, though I could see the childlike excitement in her eyes. "Trust in this bow," said Father Christmas. "And it will not easily miss," he extended the quiver to Susan, and she took it, looking up at him.
"What happened to 'Battles are ugly affairs'?" she asked, and Father Christmas chuckled.
"And though you don't seem to have a problem making yourself heard," he continued, and I stifled a laugh. "Blow on this, and wherever you are," he handed Susan a beautifully carved ivory horn. "Help will come."
"Thanks," Susan smiled, rejoining her siblings.
"Peter," Father Christmas said, bringing out a long sword, and a silver shield. "The time to use these may be near at hand." He extended the gifts, and Peter accepted them solemnly, before slowly drawing the sword from the sheath, and displaying the inscribed blade, which was similar to Awerion's.
"Thank you, sir," said Peter, and I stared as he held the blade; it came so naturally to him.
"Evelyn," I started, staring at Father Christmas, before slowly moving forward. He smiled kindly, and pulled a sheath from his pack, holding it out to me. It was a dagger, larger than Lucy's but cradled in a sheath of burgundy leather, like Awerion and Peter's sword. "I heard you lost your old one," said Father Christmas kindly, and I smiled.
"Yes." I drew the blade. It had no writing, but it fit well in my hand, and I smiled, securing it to my belt.
"Throw it, and it will always return to your side," said Father Christmas.
"Thank you," I said, and he nodded.
"These are tools, not toys," he said, looking at all of us. "Bear them well, and wisely." I heard Peter sheath his sword. "Now," said Father Christmas. "I must be off. Winter is almost over, and things do pile up when you've been gone a hundred years." He hauled his bag back to the sleigh, and climbed inside, before turning to us. "Long live Aslan," he said, taking up the reigns. "And Merry Christmas!" As we drove away, I joined the Pevensies and the Beavers in a chorus of
"Merry Christmas!"
"Thank You!"
"See you next year!" When he had disappeared from sight, Lucy turned to Susan smugly.
"Told you he was real," Susan rolled her eyes, and I laughed, until Peter spoke up.
"He said that winter is almost over," He turned to us suddenly. "You know what that means," My eyes widened, and I grimaced.
"No more ice." Peter nodded, and I turned to the Beavers. "The river's going to melt soon, we need to hurry."
"Right!" Mr. Beaver led the way, and we ran after him, the Pevensies fumbling to put away their gifts. When we reached the waterfall, I was dismayed to see that the ice was already breaking away into cold, rushing water.
"We need to cross, now!" said Peter, taking Lucy's hand.
"Don't Beaver's make dams?" asked the youngest Pevensie, looking imploringly at the Beavers.
"I'm not that fast, dear," said Mr. Beaver, and Peter tugged Lucy towards the river.
"Come on!" I began to follow, when Susan stepped forward.
"Wait! Will you just think about this for a minute?" Peter glared at her.
"We don't have a minute!" Susan looked taken aback by her brother's harsh tone.
"I'm just trying to be realistic," she said defensively.
"No," Peter argued. "You're trying to be smart, as usual!" he led Lucy away, and I paused, waiting for Susan, who frowned after her brother.
"Susan—" I began, before a very close howl pierced the air, and Susan cast a terrified glance at me, before running after her siblings. I followed her, and we began to climb down the steep bank to the river. Peter went ahead, helping Lucy, and I took up the rear. Once we reached the bottom, Peter stopped, staring at the ice, which was cracking and breaking as we watched. Peter took a hesitant step, but the ice cracked beneath his weight, and Mr. Beaver held up a paw.
"Wait, maybe I should go first," he said. Peter nodded nervously.
"Maybe you should." I glanced behind me; no wolves had found us yet, but I could hear them getting closer. Mr. Beaver stepped carefully onto the ice, and began to test it, slapping the surface of the ice with his tail. A crack suddenly appeared beneath him, and he paused, before Mrs. Beaver spoke up.
"You've been sneaking second helpings, haven't you?" She accused.
"Well you never know which meal's gonna be your last!" he defended, before adding under his breath. "Especially with your cooking." He continued, and determined that the ice was safe enough to cross. Peter hesitated.
"Go, quickly," I urged him. "It won't hold for long." Holding Lucy's hand tightly, he began to cross, and though the ice cracked and broke under their weight, they kept on. Susan followed them, staying close to her siblings, and I followed, knowing that the ice had a much higher chance of breaking now.
"If Mum knew what we were doing," Susan said shakily. Peter turned around.
"Mum's not here!" He snapped, pulling Lucy along. Suddenly, great chunks of ice began to fall from the waterfall, and I looked up.
"Oh no!" cried Lucy. Two wolves dashed across the top of the water fall, sending sprays of ice chunks raining down.
"Run!" Peter shouted, and they began to move faster, jumping from place to place, avoiding the cracks. Suddenly, as Susan leapt from one piece of ice to the next, a large crack erupted before me, completely cutting me off, separating me from the Pevensies. I stopped, watching helplessly as they were confronted by the wolves. We were cornered. One of the wolves pounced on Mr. Beaver, pinning him to the ground, and I gasped.
"No!" cried Mrs. Beaver.
"Peter!" Lucy screamed. Peter glanced back at me, and I saw the fear in his eyes, and I wanted nothing more than to be with them to protect them, but I couldn't. Peter turned back, before drawing his sword, holding it out in front of him at the wolf that approached him.
"Put that down, boy," The wolf growled, and I realized it was their leader, the one that had bitten me years before, and that had interrogated the fox. "Someone could get hurt." He advanced on the children, and Peter kept the sword up, standing protectively in front of his sisters.
"Don't worry about me! Run him through!" called Mr. Beaver.
"Leave now while you can," said the wolf. "And your brother leaves with you." Peter didn't budge.
"Stop Peter, maybe we should listen to him!" cried Susan, and the wolf chuckled.
"Smart girl."
"No!" I shouted. "Don't, Peter! He's lying!" One of the wolves behind me leapt onto my block of ice, barring its teeth, and I killed it quickly and easily with my sword. The leader of the pack growled in my direction.
"Oh, it's you. Long time, no bite." I narrowed my eyes.
"Peter, don't listen to him!"
"She's right, Peter!" piped up Mr. Beaver. "Kill him! Kill him now!"
"Oh, come on," chided the wolf. "This isn't your war. All my queen wants is for you to take your family and go." "
Look, just because some man in a red coat hands you a sword, it doesn't make you a hero!" Susan cried desperately. "Just drop it!"
"No, Peter!" shouted Mr. Beaver. "Narnia needs you! Gut him while you still have the chance!" Peter looked desperately around, and I surveyed the gap in the ice before me; there was no way I'd make it.
"What's it going to be, Son of Adam?" growled the wolf. "I won't wait forever, and neither will the river!" I looked up. Sure enough, water was beginning to spurt through the wall of ice; it was going to burst.
"Peter!" cried Lucy, clinging to her brother. He glanced around, before brining his sword up, and I saw what he was about to do. At the last second, he hesitated, turning around to face me. "Do it!" I cried. "I'll find you!" He nodded, and turned to his sisters.
"Hold on to me!" they grabbed onto his coat as he stabbed the sword into the ice, creating an anchor. The cracks in the ice started to lengthen and widen, and I turned, stabbing my own sword into the ice as the frozen waterfall began to crumble, falling and breaking the ice below it. As the water crashed down, I heard the Pevensies scream, before I was plunged into the freezing, dark water.
I apologize for being late. Yesterday was really busy and I wasn't able to update,
but here you go! A new chapter. I hope you all enjoy, feel free to let me know what you think!
