The Lost Queen

by the Lady of the Mists

Chapter Five: Christmas Returns

Anna helped Lucy climb up through the narrow branches, passing her to Peter, who was helping them climb up as fast as they could. Meanwhile, the fox was using his tail to brush away their footprints, masking any indication that they had indeed been there. Once Lucy was safely in the trees, Anna climbed up, accepting Peter's help to climb up, settling herself in one of the limbs just as the wolves burst out of the tunnel, snarling as they saw the fox.

"Greeting, gents," the fox said pleasantly, looking around at the group of wolves that surrounding him, acting as though he weren't in the slightest amount of danger. "Lost something, have we?" The leader of the pack, whom Anna assumed was Maugrim, snarled at him.

"Don't patronise me," he warned the fox as they circled around him. "I know where your allegiance lies." He paused. "We're looking for some humans."

"Humans? Here in Narnia?" The fox's tone was calm and curious, betraying no sign of nervousness. "Now that's a valuable piece of information . . . don't you think?"

One of the wolves darted forward and his teeth broke into the fox's fur. Peter's hand moved quickly around Anna, covering her mouth to stiffen her gasp of horror.

Maugrim moved towards the fox. "Your reward is your life. It's not much," he chuckled, "but still. Where are the fugitives?"

The fox whined in pain, but for a moment said nothing. Anna waited, tension rising through her as she stared down at the fox, wondering what his next move was going to be. For a long, tense moment, silence rang through the clearing, the only sound being the fox's soft moans of pain.

And then finally, he spoke. "North," he gasped. "They ran north." Maugrim evidentially believed the pain and shame that was bore in his voice, because he looked towards his pack.

"Smell them out," he ordered and they fled, heading north and throwing the fox onto the ground. No one moved for a long moment, though Anna's heart was crying out to jump to the ground and help the fox, but she knew that if they moved, they would be discovered and his injuries would be for nothing.

Only when it was safe did Anna climb down towards the ground and guided the fox's head into her lap. Mrs. Beaver tsked as she inspected the injuries. They quickly built a fire so that she could have some light to tend to the injuries and they wouldn't freeze to death. While he was being treated, Mr. Fox explained what had happened to those in the clearing.

"They were helping Tumnus. The Witch got here before I did. Ouch!"

"Are you all right?" Lucy asked.

"Well, I wish I could say that their bark was worse than their bite," Mr. Fox admitted as Mrs. Beaver tended to a particularly delicate spot and he tried to move away, but his healer was adamant.

"Oh, stop squirming," she ordered as she pushed him back down to tend to them once again. "You're worse than Beaver on bath day."

"Worst day of the year," Beaver whispered to them. The children had a hard time not laughing.

Mr. Fox stood up, wincing slightly as he placed some weight on his injuries. "Thank you for your kindness," he said, looking around at the four children, three of whom were the prophesised ones. "But I'm afraid that that's all the time I have time for."

"You're leaving?" Lucy sounded crestfallen.

"It has been a pleasure, my Queen, and an honour," Mr. Fox said with a bow. "But time is short and Aslan himself has asked me to gather more troops."

At the mention of the King of Narnia, the Beavers grew excited as they looked at him. "You've seen Aslan?"

"What's he like?"

Mr. Fox smiled meaningfully. "Like . . . everything we've ever heard," he answered before looking at the children. "You'll be glad to have him by your side in the battle against the Witch."

At the mention of a battle, the atmosphere grew tense, Anna noticed and shivered at the feel of it. And that shiver didn't have anything to do with the cold wind that was howling around them.

"But we're not planning on fighting any witch," Susan told Mr. Fox, who looked alarmed at this predicament.

"But surely, King Peter," he protested, looking Peter, "the prophecy!"

"We can't go to war without you," Beaver told them softly and Anna glanced sideways at her best friend. He shook his head as he tossed a twig, which he had been playing with for a few minutes, into the fire before he looked at the talking animals around them.

"We just want our brother back," he answered. The answer didn't help to lighten the mood, but apparently, Mr. Fox saw no reason to push the subject.

Instead, he looked towards Anna, sitting close to Peter. "My lady, help guide them on their quest," he said with a bow to her, surprising all of them. Without another word, he darted into the winter wilderness and vanished from sight, leaving Anna to ponder his parting words as they gathered up their belongings and began the long journey to the Stone Table, where their destinies were awaiting.

--

The sun was just climbing over the horizon as they trudged through the snow, snow covering their shoes and pulling their coats tighter around them as they finally reached a bridge that was made of rock, leading them across. Stopping in the middle of the bridge, Anna stared out across the world of Narnia, at the sunlight stretching across the world, making it shine like diamonds.

"Now, Aslan's camp is near the Stone Table, just across the frozen river," Beaver explained as he pointed in the direction that they were headed.

"River?"

"Oh, the river's been frozen solid for a hundred years," Mrs. Beaver hastened to assure Peter.

For a moment, all any of them did was just look at the direction where they were going. "It's so far," Peter said after a long moment.

"It's the world, dear," Mrs. Beaver pointed out with a smile. "Did you expect it to be small?"

"Smaller," Susan replied as she threw a disgruntled look towards her brother before walking past him to walk on ahead. Of all of them, Anna noticed, Susan was the only one who hadn't been enjoying themselves thus far.

Lucy hurried to catch up with her big sister while Anna and Peter walked with each other, neither one of them talking for a long moment until Peter decided to break the silence. "Anna?" he asked suddenly and she looked at him. "Do you think Ed's all right?"

"I'm sure that he's fine," Anna said comfortingly. "He might make the wrong decisions sometimes, but he's strong. A fighter," she added. "Just like his brother." Peter smiled faintly and she placed a hand on his arm. "We're gonna get him back, Peter. I promise, no witch is going to prevent us from getting him home safely."

"What if he doesn't want to come back?" Peter looked at her. "I was pretty hard on him."

"You weren't the only one," Anna pointed out. "But despite everything that he's done now, I do know one thing. He loves you. He's your brother, Peter, and he looks up to you. And he does love you." She smiled at him. "Now come on, let's get to that camp and rescue Edmund. Race you," she added as she ran up ahead, leaving Peter to catch up with her, laughing.

--

It was hours later when they were trudging through the snow, following the Beavers as they led them towards the river that would take them to Aslan's camp. Anna was retelling Lucy the only story from her fairy tale book that she'd remembered by heart, the same one that her father had read to her night after night when she was little, because it was her favourite.

"Poor Elisa, who knew that she was innocent but could not say a word to prove it, set to work knitting the last shirt. Mice ran across the floor and fetched the nettles for her; they wanted to help. And the thrush sang outside the iron bars of the window, as gaily as it could, so that she would not lose her courage," Anna continued, her throat dull from talking as well as from the long walk. Lucy was walking between her and Peter, holding each of their hands as they walked. Susan was walking up ahead, but close enough to listen to Anna's tale. "One hour before sunrise, her brothers came to the castle and demanded to see the king. But they were refused, for it as still night and the guards did not dare wake the king. Elisa's brothers begged and threatened; they made so much noise that the captain of the guards came and, finally, the king himself. But at that moment, the sun rose; the brothers were gone but high above the royal castle flew eleven white swans."

"Come on, humans, while we're still young!" Beaver yelled from where he was walking ahead with his wife.

Peter shook his head as Lucy began to lag behind, her little legs unable to keep up with them any longer. He bent down and allowed Lucy to clamber onto his back, carrying her. "If he tells us to hurry one more time, I'm going to turn him into a big, fluffy hat."

"Tell me about it," Anna groaned as she pulled the coat tighter around her. Her legs were moaning in protest, not used to walking this long without any rest and in this cold of weather. "He is getting a little bit bossy."

"No, it's her!" Mrs. Beaver shouted to us. "It's her! RUN!" Anna looked around and gasped when she saw the sleigh that was heading straight towards them. Lucy jumped down off of Peter's back and they ran across the snowy glade, already knowing that they had been spotting and would, within minutes, be caught.

They raced into the forest and plunged underneath a small cave, effectively hiding them, but preventing them from going anywhere else. If they were found, then they were dead. Anna pulled Lucy in and Peter and Susan slipped in after them, followed by the Beavers. No one dared move, no one spoke, no one even breathed as they heard the sleigh come to a stop nearby and someone climbed out.

Anna bit her lip to stop the terrified gasp that threatened to escape from her lips as a shadow appeared over the entrance to the cave, as if somehow knowing that they were there. Instinctively, Anna reached for Peter's hand and gripped it. He looked at her and squeezed her hand tighter, nearly cutting off the circulation, but she didn't care. She was too worried about the witch standing nearby, seconds away from discovering them.

Slowly, the witch moved away from the cave and Anna's shoulders slowly relaxed in relief, but none of them heard the sleigh move away. Lucy was the first to speak.
"Maybe she's gone."

Everyone exchanged worried looks and Peter released Anna's hand, moving towards the entrance. "I suppose I'll go look."

"No, Peter!" Anna whispered, grabbing the sleeve of his coat to stop him. "You can't!"

"She's right," Beaver agreed as he looked at the eldest sibling. "You're worth nothing to Narnia dead." He began to move outside of the cave when his wife protested.

"Well, neither are you, Beaver."

"Thanks, sweetheart." Her husband gripped her paw briefly and moved outside to see if they were safe or not.

For a long, tense moment, all of them sat perfectly still, terrified at what was going to happen when Beaver suddenly poked his head over the cave, his expression excited. "Come out, come out!" he said eagerly. "I hope you've all been good, because there's someone here to see you!"

Anna let out a small sigh as she moved with Mrs. Beaver and the Pevensies out of the cave, climbing back up onto the valley, her mouth opening slightly when the sight met her eyes. A man dressed in all red and a shockingly white suit was standing in front of them, with a red sleigh and eight reindeer hitched to it. The man was laughing and chuckling as Lucy squealed in delight.

"Father Christmas?" Anna said, incredulously while Lucy hurried forward to greet him.

"Merry Christmas, sir," she said brightly.

"It certainly is, Lucy, now that you have arrived," Father Christmas agreed. At this point, Susan had turned to Peter and was whispering something to Peter, but he interrupted her tirade.

"We thought you were the Witch, sir."

"Yes, I'm sorry about that," he apologised. "But in my defence, I have been driving one of these longer than the Witch."

"But there's . . . there's not supposed to be any Christmas in Narnia, is there?" Anna asked, looking between Lucy and Father Christmas.

"No, not for a long time," he answered, shaking his head. "But the hope you have brought, Your Majesties, my lady, has started to weaken the Witch's power. Still, I dare say that you could do with these." He hoisted a large bag out from the backseat of his sleigh.

"Presents!" Lucy exclaimed as she hurried forward.

Pulling a small bottle filled with an odd liquid in it and a dagger attached to a red belt and scabbard out of the bag, Father Christmas handed them to Lucy. "The juice of the fire-flower," he told her as he handed the bottle to her. "One drop will cure any injury. And though I hope you never have to use it . . ." He handed her the dagger and Lucy took it valiantly.

"Thank you, sir, but . . . I think I could be brave enough," she told him and he smiled at her.

"I'm sure that you could," he agreed. "But battles are ugly affairs." Lucy smiled as she backed up and he retrieved a set of bows and arrows from the sack, turning to the elder sister. "Susan." Slowly, she moved forward to accept her gifts. "Trust in this bow and it will not easily miss."
"What happened to 'battles are ugly affairs'?" Susan asked as she took the quiver filled with red-feathered arrows and the handsome bow.

Father Christmas chuckled again. "And though you don't seem to have a problem making yourself heard," he said as he handed her an ivory horn, "blow on this and wherever you are, help will come."

Susan took the horn and slowly looked up at him. "Thanks," she said quietly as she moved back.

"Anna," Father Christmas said, turning to her now. She blinked in surprise, but Lucy pushed her forward. He handed her a sword and scabbard that gleamed in the sunlight.

The scabbard was dark green, the colour of trees in their prime, and the sword had the head of a lion on it, gleaming silver. The silver blade that had the inscription Courage is not the absence of fear.

"But rather the judgement that some things are more important than fear," Anna whispered, finishing the long remembered phrase that her father had taught her from the time when she was a small girl. Father Christmas smiled and nodded as he retrieved another present from his sack. "And here is this," he added, placing a small silver pendant with an engraved into it into her palm. The chain that it hung around it was finer than any that could have been found in London. "To find your way home when your journey is finished."

Anna frowned at what that meant, but didn't ask as she thanked Father Christmas and moved back, letting Peter take her place.

"Peter," Father Christmas addressed him. "The time to use these may be near at hand." He handed a sword and scabbard to Peter as well as a shield with a red lion engraved into it. Anna noticed that his sword was almost identical to hers, except it was gold instead of her silver and the scabbard was red instead of green.

For a moment, Peter stared at the sword as he unsheathed it, admiring its blade. "Thank you, sir," he said gratefully.

"These are tools," Father Christmas reminded us, "not toys. Bear them well and wisely. Now, I must be off. Winter is almost over and things to pile up when you've been gone a hundred years." He returned the bag into his sleigh before climbing into it, giving them one last look. "Long live Aslan," he proclaimed, "and Merry Christmas!"

Cracking the whip, he disappeared into the distance and the children and Beavers shouted their goodbyes. "Told you he was real," Lucy accused Susan, who ignored her.

"What's the matter, Peter?" Anna asked, noticing her best friend's expression.

"He said winter was almost over," Peter answered. "You know what that means? No more ice."

--

AN: Just in case you were wondering, the story that Anna tells to Lucy is not mine. It's Hans Christian Anderson's "The Wild Swans." It's one of my favourite stories, so if you've never read it, I'd suggest looking into it, it's excellent!

The Lady of the Mists