A Gift Regifted

(It was really meant for Peter. Companion piece to "Rhindon.")

Disclaimer: I've no more idea of what heaven looks like than the next person, and ignorant people really shouldn't try to write a clear picture of what they know next to nothing about, but here I am, doing it anyway, with what doesn't belong to me.
Please understand that I have no idea of any of this will be true, once heaven comes, and that's not what I mean to imply by writing the story!

Beta'd by trustingHim17, who pointed out a great discrepancy I hopefully took care of!

A/N: This is a sequel piece to "Rhindon," but really the only thing you need to know from that story is that Father Christmas rescued Rhindon when the world fell to the great creatures from under the earth, bringing it to Aslan's Country. This is the story of him regifting it to Peter - along with other gifts.

"Father Christmas?"

"Yes, child?"

"What happened to Peter's sword? After you saved it?"

"Oh, I gave it back to him, ho ho ho, and surprised he was to get it! Now, let me see, the workshop is tidied, the dishes are put away, and I've got my pipe - yes, now might be a very good time for a story. Would you like to hear it? You see, child…

All good things exist in Aslan's Country, and Christmas is a very good thing. Now, it may not be done the way our Christmases are done, or even the way Narnian Christmases used to be done! But I'm not going to tell you of the differences. You'll have to find them out for yourself.

But there was one year that I was chuckling, particularly pleased with myself. I (gently, you know!) snapped the reins to move the reindeer faster. Oh, how they love to fly! And I wanted the speed, for I had a very, very special gift to deliver. And so we flew to Aslan's Country.

Ah, wait, I'm getting ahead of myself! Yes, laugh, for laughter is good! There were other things to collect along the way as well. A dagger, sheathed now but for play (there is no need for defense in Aslan's Country!), a diamond bottle, empty, for there was no more need for it, a horn that would summon loved ones but no longer called for help, a bow and arrows that would no longer be put to use, and a tattered blue scarf with three distinct sections, knitted by three siblings for a younger King's first real Narnian Christmas. I'd put them away a long while ago, dusty in one of the sheds I keep around the North Pole. I knew as I retrieved them that I wouldn't need them for many years. But now I did, and away we flew! Rudolph knew the way so well we were there before I caught my breath! But I got out of the sleigh, and into the shed the third one down from the reindeer, and added the items to my bag. (Mrs. Claus had already repaired the rips in the scarf.) And then we went to Aslan's Country.

And the way there is secret, but beautiful. It contains all good things, but it also made them all. All good things come out of that Country, and all laughter, and all merriment. One day, when it is all that is left, I will go there to stay.

But this Christmas was merely for a visit, for in that Country I give what has not been lost. And I laughed again, for as the sleigh ran forward, I saw four Kings and Queens, their two parents (I know them well), two Beavers and a Faun. Their heads were up, their faces eager and filled with joy, as their heard the sleigh bells ring. Lucy was the first to spring to her feet, crying "Father Christmas!" as Susan tugged her parents forward, urging them to meet me in person for the first time. I shook hands all round, smiling as Mrs. Beaver asked if I'd brought more material for the dragon on the sail of Caspian's new ship. I had, of course, a gold thread woven with sunbeams that would shine like a setting sun. And Mr. Tumnus got his own scarf and a portrait of his father, for even though he saw his father every day, I knew he'd feel more at home with it. And for Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie, I brought the words of those who knew Susan last in life, the words they spoke of all their daughter had done before her life ended, and how she had touched their lives. I brought word of many of the reasons she had been left for so many years in England before coming here. On hearing they wept tears of joy, for what Aslan had wrought. And then it was time for the other gifts.

Peter had been first, that first Christmas in Narnia, but now I knew he would wish to wait till last, for still his life is spent serving the laughter and life of others. So it was to Lucy I turned first.

"Lucy, Eve's Daughter,"* I called, and she stepped forward with the joy of great and solemn events in her eyes. Were she in another country, she could heal with a look from those eyes alone. I handed to her the bottle I had given so many years ago. "In this bottle there is nothing but the air of Aslan's Country, for never more will you be hurt, or any of your friends be hurt. But I bid you wear it, that all who see it may remember that even in broken worlds, Aslan saved. And this dagger is to practice skills that you no longer need. For there are no more battles."

She looked at me, eyes shining, and took from me what was truly hers. "Why, Sir," said Lucy, "I thank you, for the gifts that made those years better. It is good to be in a place where Death is no longer an enemy, but to remember it is defeated." She curtsied, graceful with the practiced movements of a queen, and stepped back.

"Edmund, Adam's Son," and the Just King stepped forward. "There is no greater gift than the love of God and of His own, and I come bearing a gift that was made and given with love," and I brought out the scarf. I heard his quick intake of air, surprise and wonder in his eyes (he had not seen it since he was a boy, and lost it on a trip to fight the giants one winter), and then the King's smile slowly grew, as he took in the tattered ends and sewn rips.

"Often the most well-worn times are the most loved, and given in love. Thank you, Father Christmas," he said gravely, and stepped back with a bow.

"Susan, Eve's Daughter." The Queen - restored, grace given to her twice-over, and beautiful enough to win a world to peace - stepped forward, dignity in her bearing and welcome in her face. "These are for you," and I handed her first the bow and the quiver of arrows. "They are for you to put to rest, to remember that now all your warfare has ceased." She took them with grace, but held them in her hands rather than slinging them over her back. I handed her then the little ivory horn. "And when you put this to your lips and blow it, then, wherever you are, I think some of Aslan's own will come and walk with you."

"And I never need be alone," she whispered with a smile. "It is good to have a voice that is always heard. Thank you," and she leaned up to give me a kiss on my bearded cheek.

"Peter, Adam's Son."

"Here, Sir."

"These are your presents," I gave him answer. "And they are memories, not weapons. The time to use them is past, and you bore them well." And I handed him a sword, made to fit him even now, and a silver shield with a red, rampant lion. He straightened, eyes at once that of a King who had defended land with soul and body, and who even now commanded its Kings.

"This is my sword, Rhindon. With it I slew the Wolf." His eyes fixed on it, fully King and full of memories, and then he nodded to me. "It is good to feel them again."

"One more gift for you all," I added, feeling a smile beginning to creep over my face. "Tell each other the stories of each gift, and your Christmas will pass in memory and merriment. A Merry Christmas! Long Live the true King, forever He will reign!"

And then I took the reins, and sent my good friends forward, for there were other gifts to deliver! But the sword you asked about, child, is back in the hands of the High King, and there it will stay forever.

OOOOO

*Much of the dialogue is patterned on or directly quoted from The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.