Disclaimer: I own the Nautilus as little as I own the oceans she sails in…and Narnia as little as the stars in the sky. And I don't own the elements of the Space Trilogy that appear in this chapter. I certainly do not own Father Christmas!
Thank you to BrokenKestrel for her help on this chapter – not one but two rounds of beta-reading this time, and some much-needed encouragement on the story in general
Chapter 18
"If you're Father Christmas," Eustace began, "does that mean there is magic in our world too?"
Father Christmas's eyes twinkled. "One of your English poets has said, 'There are more wonders in heaven and earth Horatio than are dreamt of in your philosophy.'(1) I go places beyond mortal ken in Thulcandra – but surely you are wanting breakfast? Discussion is far merrier when there is food and drink."
Father Christmas served Eustace and Vasiliev breakfast on the veranda. In a matter of minutes, they were sitting in front of a generous assortment of rich fruits, sweet cream, and soft bread. Neither Eustace nor Vasiliev had had a proper meal since before the storm, so they tucked in with great relish.
"I have so few visitors," said Father Christmas, sitting down to join them, "especially new ones. It is a pleasure when they drop by."
"Aren't there any people in this world – in Perelandra?" Eustace asked, as he served himself some of the fruit.
"There is no one native to this planet yet," said Father Christmas. "Not for some years more. For now, there are only a few guests, like myself, from Thulcandra."
"Like who?" Eustace asked. In his excitement, he forgot how rude it is to talk when one's mouth is full.
Father Christmas overlooked the breach of manners. "I wonder how well you would know their names, in England now," he said. "But I have spent many centuries now with Enoch and Elijah, King Arthur joined us after my time –"(2)
The names of the two prophets indeed meant nothing to Eustace – Bibles were not encouraged at the Experiment House (3). But as progressive and up-to-date as his education had been, he still knew the name of King Arthur.
"King Arthur is real? And he's here?" Eustace began babbling with questions. "Are all the stories true? Will he really come back to Britain one day?"
"He is certainly here," said Father Christmas. "Whether he will return to the island of Britain before the End…that is neither your place nor mine to know. But come now –" His eyes twinkled. "I know as much as I need to deliver gifts each year for Christmas – on Thulcandra and elsewhere. But it is not the same as being told a story. Perhaps you would be willing to tell me of your adventures?"
"I'll try," said Eustace uncertainly. His one attempt at telling a story, after he had been transformed into a dragon, had not gone well.(4) "But I don't really know how we got here. There was a storm, you see – the viewport was broken and we had to seal off the pilothouse so we couldn't see where we were going – or anything. When it cleared up, we were here and –"
"It sounds like you are starting the story in the middle, I think almost at the end," said Father Christmas. "You mentioned Narnia – and I know there are no submarines there. What do you know of the land of Talking Animals and Walking Trees – and how does a submarine come into it?"
He sat back, and smiled encouragingly at Eustace.
"Well," said Eustace, taking a deep breath. "There's a painting of a ship that Alb- that my mother hates, so she put it in the spare room. And it came to life one day while my cousins were visiting. Suddenly we were swimming in the ocean – well, my cousins were swimming, I was trying not to drown – and then we were aboard the Dawn Treader – that's Caspian, King Caspian's ship…"
Eustace had never been taught to tell a story properly, so it took some time for Father Christmas to understand everything. But he was a patient and eager listener. And he was simply delighted when Eustace said Lucy and Edmund were on Perelandra – he hadn't been able to speak to them since the Golden Age.(5)
Father Christmas had many questions about the Nautilus and her crew, and Captain Nemo's exploration of the deep oceans.
"The Nautilus seems a most wondrous vessel," said Father Christmas, after Eustace description. "Her captain must be in the service of a great king or prince."
"Not really," said Eustace. "No, actually, not at all. He's sworn never to return to land again – the Nautilus can stay at sea forever as long as she comes up for air every so often and his food and everything comes from the sea."
"Never to return to land again," murmured Father Christmas. "That is a strange vow. Do you know what caused him to forsake human society?"
Eustace shifted. "He's, well, he's on a mission of vengeance. I – it sounded like his country was invaded, and his family murdered, so he's fighting almost a private war from the ocean."
"Pity I didn't know about that vow," muttered Vasiliev. "Switzerland is landlocked."
Father Christmas turned to Vasiliev. "You are more personally acquainted with the Captain's reasons for forsaking human society?"
"You could say that," said Vasiliev. He stared down at the table, refusing to meet Father Christmas's eyes. Instead, he began to study the wooden tabletop with great interest.
"How do you know Captain Nemo?" Father Christmas asked.
Vasiliev fumbled for a few moments. "He was employed by friends of my father in Paris," he said at last. "Then he ran off with my sister."
"You say he ran off with your sister, but you are the one running from him?" Father Christmas asked. "Surely you should be pursuing him, avenging your sister's honour? Or is there more to the story?"
"Captain Nemo said –" Eustace began, but Father Christmas held up a hand.
"Do you know what happened of your own knowledge?" he asked.
Eustace shook his head.
"I would rather hear it from Vasiliev then," said Father Christmas. "It is, after all his story." He turned back to Vasiliev. "I would very much like to know what happened."
"You just said it is my story," said Vasiliev with a slight sneer. "What business is it of yours?"
"You are in my house," said Father Christmas calmly. "I would know who my guests are."
Vasiliev stood up, as if he were leaving. But then he looked around and saw the forest all around.
Father Christmas had told them this place was uninhabited. The only other people here were the Narnians and the crew of the Nautilus. The crew had not intervened for Vasiliev's sake – Jakub had refused to be responsible for his safety. Here in Father Christmas's house was the only possible refuge. Vasiliev's only hope was to comply with the host's conditions.
He sat back down. "He – the captain – escaped from Siberia, and wants to kill me, so I've been running ever since."
Eustace wondered if Vasiliev was really as bad as he was at telling stories or if this was just a side effect of concealing the truth. But Father Christmas showed no sign of impatience.
"Why does Captain Nemo want to kill you?" Father Christmas asked. "Were you the one who sent him to Siberia – for crimes against your sister?"
"He should have been," said Vasiliev with a scowl, "but no. Poland was in revolt against the tsar. He was born in Poland, and joined in the revolt. Being one of the leaders – what passed for nobility there – he had to be made an example of, so to Siberia he went."
Father Christmas raised an eyebrow slightly. "You said he met your sister in Paris. I take it the revolt was after they – ran away? What happened to your sister in the meantime?"
There was a long silence. Vasiliev looked down at the ground. He fidgeted, and swallowed hard several times.
"I killed her," he finally whispered.
Father Christmas said nothing. A moment passed. Then Vasiliev pushed away the table and jumped to his feet.
"I said I killed her!" he shouted. "Do you hear me? I killed her – her and her two brats!"
"It is no wonder then that the captain is pursuing you," said Father Christmas. "You invaded his home and you killed his family – everything he cared about, I suppose. So he built a floating fortress to hunt you down."
"So you say he is right to hunt me?" Vasiliev asked. "King Edmund was wrong to stop him from killing me?"
"I do not know what King Edmund did," said Father Christmas. "But I know he would not condone your actions. And it is your actions we are speaking of, not Captain Nemo's – or King Edmund's. We are speaking of you, and what you have done."
Father Christmas looked sternly at Vasiliev. "Besides, Captain Nemo is not your greatest problem. He after all, can only take your life."
Vasiliev began to tremble.
"You already know this, don't you?" asked Father Christmas. "Beware, Vasiliev! Murder is not just an offence against man. It is also an offence against the God who created man. For such offences, there is a judgment, after death. From that judgment, King Edmund cannot save you."
"Why did he save me then?" Vasiliev shouted. "Is he just delaying the inevitable?"
"Does that upset you?" Father Christmas asked. "Your running did no more than that, all these years. But no – I think there must be more to it. Tell me what he saved you from."
Vasiliev looked about, as if words might come to him from the air.
"He – the captain – would have killed me when I came on board – but they stopped him. There was a – he called it a trial, I think they were supposed to be judging. But they didn't have time to judge, he was going to execute me on the spot. King Edmund stopped him."
"Captain Nemo didn't kill you because King Edmund asked him to?" Father Christmas sounded sceptical.
Vasiliev looked down at the ground. "No," he whispered. "King Edmund – he was standing between me and the gun. The captain was going to shoot him – instead of me, or just first, I don't know. Then – there was a fight between the captain and the crew. I couldn't hear, I don't know what happened. There was shouting and the captain left the room. I don't know, I don't understand!"
"No," said Father Christmas. "You don't. None of us do, by nature. What you saw, Vasiliev, what was shown to you, is mercy. Not giving you what you deserved."
"Why did he do it then? And how does that – that help, with – after death?"
"You put the cart before the horse," said Father Christmas. "King Edmund is merciful because he has been shown mercy. Perhaps you have not heard –"
"About the talking lion who died?" asked Vasiliev. "Yes, last night. Very nice story. How does that help me?"
"The Talking Lion, Aslan," said Father Christmas, "has another form in this world, and another name. In the Old Solar, we call Him Maleldil. But He has another name in Thulcandra – one I think you used to know. Dying, returning to life – has it been so long?"
A look of recognition came into Vasiliev's eyes.
"Yes, I see you do know," said Father Christmas. "Here, He died not for one but for all. That includes you."
"I knew Him once, but that was long ago, before – before. It is too late now."
"Then why did Aslan send us to protect you from Captain Nemo – keep you alive on that iceberg until we could find you?" Eustace broke in, rather heatedly. "Why would he go to all that trouble if it were too late?"
"It is simpler than that," said Father Christmas. "You are still alive. It is yet your time of grace, to turn to him, to trust in him." He looked stern. "Do not scorn this gift, Vasiliev. You do not know how long it will be offered."
"Who gives gifts to a traitor and murderer of his kin?"
Captain Nemo stepped out of the forest, his gun drawn. Vasiliev slipped out of his chair and lay sprawled on the ground, whimpering.
Father Christmas stood and calmly walked over. "Captain Nemo, I presume. Welcome, we were just having breakfast."
(1) Hamlet Act 1, scene 5, 159–167
(2) See That Hideous Strength, pg. 368
(3) The Silver Chair, pg. 5
(4) Voyage of the Dawn Treader, pg. 100-101
(5) For a fanfic about Father Christmas and Narnia, please go read BrokenKestrel's "A Christmas Collection". It has several one and two shots about several of his journeys there.
