Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia, Christmas, or any of the other stories I've slipped into this tale. Can you find them all, do you think?

Beta'd by trustingHim17, and a Merry Christmas from both of us, and from all the fictional characters you love!

A Wisely Given Gift
(Father Christmas muses on why Aslan chose those first two gifts for Lucy.)

I have given many gifts. Perhaps you remember yours, maybe from last year. One that made you smile, the moment you opened it? Ah, yes, you remember it!

Yes, I've given many gifts. Useful things, pretty things, fun things on occasion. Ho ho ho. Funny things they were too. There was one time I gave an old man a visit from three ghosts, and wasn't that a surprise!

Oh, I remember them. Each and every one. Gift giving, it's an art, you see. Don't you, my dear? Yes, your mother is quite gifted in that art too. I've practiced it long, very long, as many years as Christmas has existed. I remember every gift because I love the art of gift-giving.

The ones I remember best, well, they become part of stories. You like stories; I know you do, I gave you that book you love. Why yes, that one right there. Let me feel it. There it is, elven-made binding; they love gluing the pages, the little things. Yes, stories are a wonderful thing. And there's times I'm told to give gifts, you know, and almost all of those gifts lead to good stories.

An example, you say? Hmmm, let me see. Well there's that one—but it'd be Christmas before I finished in the telling of it! All about helping a crotchety old man give gifts to his neighbor, a mother with a husband gone to a war, and left with four daughters. I got the man's grandson Laurie involved, and you see—well, bless me, if I haven't started telling it! No, that story's too full of people to be summed up. You're too young to appreciate a long story just about people right now. I'll give you that story another Christmas.

But there's another—no, that one doesn't have any adventure. Ho ho ho, you'd be glad of an adventure yourself, wouldn't you! Let me think, let me think; ah, yes. Just the story for a young girl like you, for it's about a young girl too.

There's another land, one you've never heard of, called Narnia. I love that land. It's a land where the ones in it accept all good things, and since I'm on the side of good myself (it's the wise side to be on, you know, my dear; everyone knows that at Christmas!), it's a land where I may be seen. Bless me, the greetings I get! The sniffing, the squeals, the welcoming music, and the love - ah, the love, my child. It's heard there as clear as the taste of it in cookies a child bakes herself.

But I was banished from that land, the land of Narnia. Oh, my dear, it can happen. Lands where good remains praised are often attacked by evil, and when evil wins, why, good things are no longer welcome. I tried to get in one year, and the reindeer staggered, breaking off in either direction, and I - I fell off. I landed on my back in the snow and lay there, catching my breath. (I was driving in from its neighbor, Archenland, you see.)

Oh, my dear, do not tense up! Evil exists in all the great stories, for men and beasts do not truly know their own worth till it has been tested against evil. I may know it, as I know yours-yes, you, Matilda, for you will have a very large story-just think, young as you are, you already figured out a way to my home in the North Pole! Yes, you're very smart, and will have a lot of other nasty Agatha's to fight through your life. I'm glad you won, too.

That time, evil had triumphed, and I was banned from Narnia. Every year, for a hundred Christmases, I went to the border of Narnia after Archenland. I would press my red-mittened hands against the barrier she had made, just for me, the evil Witch, and sometimes, my dear, I don't mind telling you, I was hard pressed not to cry. It is a hard thing to be banned from helping.

But then, one day - and it was in the middle of Spring, mind you! Not Christmas at all! - the roar of the Lion echoed through the house, and I jumped out of my rocking chair and ran to my study. And there He waited for me, the Great Lion, the Giver of the Greatest Gifts, and the Orchestrator of all battles against evil. He was going to Narnia. Her barrier couldn't keep Him out. Nothing could! And where He went, I could follow.

He was faster, of course. I had so many things to pack, and lists to make to remember everything, and so much joy I couldn't do any of it for laughing! I was stumbling over my own feet and belly, and Mrs. Claus was darting about while dabbing her cheeks with her handkerchief, doing a million things I was laughing too hard to do - she always does, my blessed wife. It took a bit - Christmas does, like any gift! But oh, the joy of doing it! And I stuffed it all in my bag, and Mrs. Claus slipped in a snack, and I was ready to be off.

But she caught me by the arm. "You forgot the special gifts, my dear," she told me, and blessed if I hadn't! I forgot to mention, when the Great Lion came (and I knew it was Narnia He came for, for there He is a lion, the Lion), He told me about gifts for four children, very specific gifts. And one of them was for a little girl, about eight years old.

There was a metal dagger in a red sheath, for she was in a land where evil was still strong. And she had a spirit to fight it. Do you know, when I gave it to her, she asked me if she couldn't fight in the battle, for she thought she might be brave enough. She was a Queen who rushed to help of any person, be it man or beast or tiny bird, in need of a champion.

And so I gave her the other present, a small diamond battle filled with juice from the fire-flowers of the sun. A single drop could cure any hurt. I remember Aslan slipping more into a well at an old half-dwarf woman's house, later on. But the Queen was given a whole bottle, for she had a spirit to fight but a heart to heal. Oh, she was a lovely thing.

And she would need both, but especially the latter. Eh? Why? Oh, her siblings! I only met two of them that year - that's another story, about the fourth - but two of them needed healing as often as any other person she knew! Indeed, her brother was the first to use it. She'd gone with Aslan Himself and had seen what death was. She knew what she was fighting, young as she was. And Aslan took her from there to a place where she could see life restored, for there were stone statues everywhere, and Aslan brought them to life again! And, seeing death, and then seeing life triumph, He took her to a battlefield. There she found the fourth sibling terribly wounded, and rushed to his side, letting one of those drops fall into his lips. From there, at Aslan's bidding, she went and fought death all over the battlefield.

Ah, yes, she got her battlefield, as she'd asked, but not to fight their enemies, not yet. Not till she was older. She fought death itself instead.

And her the youngest. Aslan made her the youngest, you know, He did, but gave her the power to save those older than her all the same.

She's not in Narnia any more now. I stop by her house sometimes, but I never let her see me, not any of them. And of all the gifts I gave her, in Narnia or here, I think I like those two gifts the best.

OOOOO

A/N: So...I have an idea for Peter's gifts, in this vein, at least, and a very, very vague idea for Edmund's, but I've also three other ideas for Christmas stories, and I was wondering whether people were more interested in this or in new ideas, such as Christmas for the captives before Prince Caspian, or a companion piece for Rhindon?

Response to Anonymousme: As long as you make sure you keep the fanfiction beginnings you write - you'll be glad for it, I think, if you start writing fanfiction. You're welcome to leave them anytime. There's been a few stories that did the same for me - I wrote "Are there happy endings?" after reading Drag0nst0rm's work - so you're welcome to do that anytime you like. Thank you for noticing the commas; those were intentionally left out as they would cause the reader to hear the words with less urgency. We've those who love Christmas (that group does include me) and those who get rather impatient with it in our family, but Christmas wouldn't be the same unless all of us were there. A Merry Christmas to your household as well!