Chapter 8: In the House of Father Christmas

Father Christmas led them into a small, but lavishly decorated room that had a warm fire crackling in the fireplace. The room was littered with nicely wrapped gifts. A dark chest that looked similar to Mallory's sat in a corner of the room, lit overhead by an ancient-looking sconce. In that room was a small, round table with cosy armchairs arranged all around it, and the number of chairs was just right for all of them.

Awaiting them on the table was the most glorious tea that you could ever dream of. There was every type of bread, cake, muffins, butter, cream, pancakes, toast, jars of honey and caramel, shortbread, biscuits and even toffees that warmed your whole body when you sucked it, all accompanied by delicious mugs of hot chocolate.

When the food was cleared off the table and everybody felt quite drowsy after such a pleasantly heavy and delicious meal (except for Father Christmas), the good man coaxed the Narnians and Firumel to leave the room so that he could speak to Mallory alone. When all this was done and the room was empty except for Mallory and Father Christmas, she became awake at once, for his face was very solemn, and she remembered what he had said to her.

So she recounted all that Aslan had said to her, every single detail and movement. For good measure, she told him too of how she had entered Narnia and the things that she found in the Enchanted Chest. Father Christmas listened patiently, nodding at the right places, but never asking any questions.

When she was done, Father Christmas sat up straight in his armchair and looked at her Chest, and said softly, "So it's true."

Mallory was instantly curious. "What's that?"

He looked at her, but his eyes were no longer shining. It was deep now, and full of sorrow but joy as well. She had never expected a wonderful figure like Father Christmas can be so sad and jolly at the same time.

Just like Aslan, thought Mallory. 'I should like to hear all that my royal brother Aslan said . . .'

"Is Aslan really your brother?" she blurted out.

His brows lifted a bit, then he broke into a smile. "Not many people know this, and I don't like it to be known too, but yes, Aslan is my brother. We are the Royal Children of the great Emperor-beyond-the-Sea, along with our sisters. But Aslan, he was the eldest and was always the greatest among all of us. He was brave, he was wise, he was skilled, and he was a loving brother."

At that, Father Christmas nodded happily, as if recalling a pleasant memory.

"There were four of us, the Royal Children: Aslan, the eldest, was known as Prince Aslan the Great; Arundel, the second eldest and the most patient and gentle, was known as Princess Arundel the Gracious; me, Algaurs, was third and I was known as Prince Algaurs the Selfless; last of all was Alvarya, the most beautiful and willful among all of us, and she was known as Princess Alvarya the Brave.

"When we were children, we were very close and shared almost everything together. Our father the Emperor always advised us never to fight and be divided, and we abided by that golden advice every day without fail. But of course as we grew up, we became different; especially Alvarya. She loved weapons and hawking and adventures that a princess of her pedigree should not be loving, and it displeased our father greatly. But she was Aslan's favourite sibling, Arundel and I could always tell. He stood up for her every time she was caught trying to ride a horse or duel with the High Commander of the Royal Army. And Alvarya respected him the most. She would bully me, yes, and sometimes Arundel, but she never bullies Aslan. Aslan liked to give piggyback rides to Alvarya," Father Christmas laughed sadly, "You can see them piggy-riding all around the palace grounds every evening.

"One day, our father decided that we had come of good age. He granted each of us a wish to become whatever we wanted. Aslan asked for a wide land for him to create and rule in the form of a magnificent Lion, so he became that Lion that we all revere. Arundel wished to found a city that possessed innumerable wealth, undefeatable army and learned people. So she was given one in another world, and that city was named Charn. Me, Algaurs, wished only to become a kind, fatherly person that had no end of gifts to give, so I became Father Christmas and my good father gave Christmas to me as a day in honour of my generosity.

"Alvarya, on the other hand, asked for never-ending adventures. That last wish angered our father. He banished her out of our country, but good, honourable Aslan took her under his wing, and together they founded Narnia, Archenland and the lands that make up the rest of this world." He fell silent. Mallory wanted him to continue. She wanted to know what became of Princess Alvarya, the owner of the Enchanted Chest.

At length he spoke, "This Chest of yours belonged to her."

Mallory was taken aback, but she answered, "Yes, it does."

He threw her a sharp, curious look. "How did you know?"

Mallory blinked. What was he up to? "I – I read it off the Chest. There were some letters carved on it."

Father Christmas remained silent, his eyes still heavy on her. Then he spoke, "Those are the Royal Runes, known only to the Royal Family. There is no way you could have known, unless you are a member of the Royal Family, which you are not."

That made Mallory feel uneasy, but she felt something tugging at the back of her mind. She struggled with it for a while before managing to get it out: "Aslan called me 'Daughter of Kings' when he addressed me."

Father Christmas drew a sharp breath. Mallory didn't dare look at him. Somehow, she felt as if she had said the wrong thing, but why should it be wrong? She didn't make it up. Aslan did say that to her.

"It can't be," said Father Christmas after a long silence, "That was Aslan's nickname for Alvarya. He would call her that whenever he wanted her to do something for him."

Now Mallory really wanted to run away from the room. She wanted to run and run and put as much distance between her and Archenland as possible. She would do anything to get away from this place: away from an Enchanted Chest, magical lands, Father Christmases, talking animals and, oh, just about everything! She wished bitterly that she had never undertook Aslan's task, what more setting foot in this land.

Father Christmas sensed her discomfort and placed a warm hand and smile on her shoulder. "I might have been wrong, Daughter of Eve. After all, it was such a long time ago. Now, about helping me preparing the gifts, I think Aslan means for me to take those weapons from your Chest."

Mallory looked up and he brushed a small tear away from her eye. She managed a small smile and sniffed. She didn't mean all that she was thinking, after all, she realised.

She stood, and so did Father Christmas, and together they opened her Chest.

"Choose, Daughter of Eve," he said simply.

Mallory gave him a funny smile. "Why, you choose. You're Father Christmas."

He laughed. "Hoho! So I am! But right now this is your Chest and you pick out the ones that you feel you can part with."

"Well, to be honest, I'd be really sorry to part with each one," she said, and truly she did. Everything in the Chest seemed especially dear to her now. But she bent over and pulled a golden hilt out. Upon seeing the full length of it, she quickly dropped it back into the Chest. She was sure that it was very rude to give someone a used gift, what more a sword that she had used to kill.

"Why, Daughter of Eve?" he exclaimed. "Why do you put it back? That is a fine sword."

"I – er, well, I used it to, urm, kill some Minotaurs earlier on," she said uncomfortably, fidgeting as she did.

"All the better then, isn't it? The sword will be better accustomed to killing," Father Christmas said merrily. Although it was an odd statement that she didn't fully understand, it made Mallory a good deal happier.

Next, she picked the wonderful bow and its quiver full of slender arrows, the shield with the rampant lion on it, the slim dagger, and the splendid horn. He hummed cheerfully as she did so, and with every selection, Mallory felt happier. At least, it would do the important people some good.

After he was done, he shut the Chest and asked Mallory to follow him into his study, for he had one more present to select, and he would like her opinion. Mallory gave a look at the Chest, suddenly feeling sorry for it, and trotted after Father Christmas's wide strides into a dingy cabin at the back of the House.

There were shelves and shelves in the cabin, all stacked with dusty boxes of all sorts of sizes and shapes. He brought down a few boxes and laid them on the floor.

For a moment, Mallory just stood looking at them, puzzled, at what were in them. Then Father Christmas gave her a nudge. "Open them," he whispered.

Opened them she did, and these were what she found: in the first box there was a beautifully cut diamond-shaped phial, glowing with starlight; the second box held a compass of tarnished but polished gold, the numbers and its needle gold and deliriously pleasing to the eye; in the third and largest box Mallory found a flute of delicate ivory; and in the fourth box was a small, glass bottle with fire-red liquid in it.

She looked at Father Christmas for information. He smiled and explained, "This phial here contains the light and radiance of the stars that never dies out, and its phial is made of diamond that will never break or scratch. This compass does not need to be adjusted, and it will show you the way to the place of your heart's desire. And this flute here, can tame the fiercest of beasts, and all music that comes from it is pure joy to the ears. Last, but not least, is the cordial that is made of the juice of the fire-flowers of the sun. One drop heals any wound, no matter big or small. Choose, Daughter of Eve."

Mallory frowned as she weighed each object, its uses and disadvantages. She knew that this gift was for a very special and important person, so she had to be careful, sure and correct.

After some time, she bent and picked up the dainty bottle of cordial. "I like this one."