AN: PLEASE READ! Father Christmas is in this one! I couldn't wait to write this chapter. Also, there's some Narnian slang that I just sort of made up. I had fun with it, so if you don't like it, tell me. I need all the help I can get! Please review, as usual. Five reviews = another chapter. Equation applies to all chapters/updates! Again, review! Thanks! Also, "Neh" means no and "Eh" means yes. Another thing, "We hot?," is like when we say "We cool?" I just thought that since they were against the winter, they should have hot be what cool is to us, because that would be against the Witch and all. It's a bit confusing. Sorry. Ask if you need help. Also, they have lunch in this chapter, on the frozen lake. I've added a lot of extra stuff to the original story, but I think it helps fill in some of the gaps. I've also made Susan not very likable. That's just Alex's idea about her, because she doesn't really know Susan yet. Tell me if you like it, or if I should just get on with the story, and not add any extra scenes like this. Thanks again! By the way, why are you still reading this? Why do you care what I have to say about it? I wanna know what you have to say. Review! Read the story! Flame at will! Go dance the Hokey-Pokey with you cousin's best friend's brother's girlfriend's grandparents! And then tell me how that worked out for you. I've never done it.

We were walking across the frozen lake, on our way to the, well, the frozen river. Real original names, I know, but they'd been iced over for so long that everybody just called them frozen and then forgot their real names.

Peter, Lucy, and I kept talking. I taught them more words, like the word for making light without fire, (Avrelil), and for making an enemy blind temporarily (Feramior). I showed Peter some basic moves with the sword, and then had him try them while using mine. I discovered that he was a natural, even with a sword that wasn't balanced right for him. He was quickly growing more and more kingly in my eyes: strong-minded, magical, a natural swordsman. At lunch, I had tested him on battle strategies, giving him scenarios and drawing diagrams in the steadily melting snow, then having him study them and tell me where the armies should go next before the snow melted from the heat of the blue and green fires that we held in our hands. He was good at that too. I took it a step further and asked him which army was going to win. He guessed the right one about 75% of the time.

I asked him if he played chess, and he said he did but that he wasn't any good at it. His brother always won. I asked him whether he thought that what we just did would count as a chess game. He said it probably did.

"I wasn't any good at it in Finchley. I don't know. It's almost easier if I think of them as battles."

"Well, then. I have an order for you. The next time you play chess with your brother, think of the board as a battlefield, and of the pieces as foot-soldiers, swords-men, archers, and commanders. One of the commanders is the one who does all the fighting, but you can't lose him. The other commander tells the others what to do; without him, your army is dead. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, it does. It makes a lot more sense."

"Good."

Peter was in the middle of trying to figure who would win one of my trickier battle situations, when Beaver came over.

"How's he doing?," he asked.

"Excellent. He's a natural swordsman, he's great at battle strategies, he's a budding sorcerer, and even I can't get into his mind. He'll make a great High King.," I whispered into his ear.

I felt Peter probing, probably accidentally, and let him in my head. He looked up at me, his eyes wide at so high a praise, coming from me, of all people. I looked at him. "What? It's true."

"Thanks, Alex."

"Welcome."

"Food!," Mrs. Beaver called from where she was sitting next to the blue-purple-green fire that was the combined efforts of Peter's, Lucy's, and my magic.

We hurried over, Lucy, who had been watching us, Peter, and I following Mr. Beaver. We ate quickly, all except the oldest girl. Who looked at us with disgust when I told Peter about my days of being a double agent. He loved to hear the stories of battles and of great armies at war. In the end, I told him the history of Narnia, or rather, the exciting parts.

"Why are you called The Lioness, Alex?," Peter asked. It was a pretty reasonable question.

"I don't really know. I guess it's because I don't have a family – "

"Why's that?," Lucy asked. "Sorry for interrupting, and all."

"It's okay. Um, well, my Mum died when I was about two, and my Dad wasn't the best of dad's." I gave Peter a meaningful look. He understood. "So, when I got here, I was sort of adopted by the Narnians and by Aslan. So one of my titles is Daughter of Aslan. My sister's knight name is Lion'schild. I'm just The Lioness. I got dibs because I was the oldest. Becca – my sister - is two years younger than I am. And I'm a girl. And, usually, lion's produce other lions, so they nick-named me The Lioness before I was made a knight, and so when I did become one, my knight name was The Lioness. I guess it was Aslan's sense of humor showing itself."

"That's sweet."

"Yep."

"Can't you two be civilized for once?" the Susan asked.

"What civilized? I ain't never heard of no civilized before," I quipped. Susan shook her head and turned away like I was dirt.

"Sorry 'bout that," Peter said, lapsing into the Narnian slang I had taught him and Lucy. "She neh undastan'."

"'S okay. I survive wit out no civilized copany. You too, eh?"

"Neh," said Lucy, joining us.

"Fo real? 'Ow you do that?"

"Cafuly."

"Well, I ain't never been civilized. Don' wanna be."

"Eh," Peter replied.

"Beast. We hot?"

"We hot."

"Sweet."

We kept walking. And walking.

Around 1:00, by my watch, (which is the Sun) I heard bells. The Witch.

"Behind you!," I yelled. "Run!"

We ran like the devil himself was on our tails, which, come to think of it, was true.

Getting into the forest, we ran to the old Beaver hideaway, and ducked inside. I could feel Lucy trembling from where she sat. I understood. The threat of the Witch can be even scarier than the Witch herself.

The bells stopped right above us. I sat stock still holding my breath. There was a thump, and then a shadow appeared. A large shadow, and then it disappeared. We waited a moment with baited breath.

"Maybe she's gone," Lucy whispered.

"I suppose I'll go out and check," Peter said, and he started to get up.

"No, Peter!" I grabbed his arm. "Narnia needs you. I'll go. It's time she found out who I really am." I walked out of the alcove.

Looking out, I saw not the Witch, but. . . someone else. Someone who hadn't been in Narnia for a hundred years. Father Christmas.

I felt a silly grin spread over my face and I turned back towards the cave. Leaning down, I heard Lucy squeak as I said "Come out! I hope you've all been good, 'cause there's someone here to see you!"

The Beavers came out first, then Peter, holding onto Lucy's hand, and finally, Susan.

Lucy started grinning and walked forward. She said "Merry Christmas, sir."

Father Christmas smiled and said, "It certainly is, Lucy, since you have arrived."

I looked at Peter and Susan. Peter just looked shell-shocked. Susan, of course, was skeptical. "I thought there was no Christmas in Narnia.," she said.

Father Christmas said, "It hasn't been for a hundred years. But now the Witch's power is crumbling." He took the huge sack full of what I knew were presents, and dumped it on the ground. I heard Lucy gasp in surprise and delight, then saw her run forward, saying "Presents!" Father Christmas laughed and said, "Lucy, Eve's Daughter. These are for you. The juice of the fire flower. If you, or one of your friends are wounded, one drop of this cordial will restore them." He gave her a small bottle filled with red liquid. My eyes widened at the sight of so much juice. It was extraordinarily rare, and one of the most expensive and priceless gifts in the world. "And though I do not expect you to use it, this." A tiny dagger was now in Lucy's possession. "Sir, I think I could be brave enough," Lucy said tentatively.

"I'm sure you could. But battles are ugly affairs." Lucy looked at me for confirmation. I nodded my head. Battles are very ugly affairs.

"Susan." She stepped forward. He handed her a bow and arrows. "Trust in this bow, and it will never miss."

"What happened to 'battles are ugly affairs'?," she asked

Father Christmas ignored this comment. "And, though you don't seem to have trouble making yourself heard, this. When you put this horn to your lips and blow it, wherever you are, help will come."

Susan answered this with a typical, "Thanks." Father Christmas turned towards Peter. "And, Peter. These are tools, not toys. The time to use them may be soon at hand." Peter drew the ornately beautiful sword from its sheath and his eyes lit up. His shield had the Red Lion on the front. I knew in an instant that he would be begging me for lessons. Good. I didn't want him practicing with my sword for forever. It was time he got his own weapon. Peter looked at me, a huge smile on his face. I couldn't help grinning at his astonishment. "What'd I tell you? I knew you'd get a sword soon enough. They're not about to send you into battle empty-handed."

Father Christmas laughed his genial laugh and, turning, said, "Bear them well! I best be off, winter is almost over and things do pile up when you've been gone a hundred years." He climbed onto the sled. "Alexa?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Keep them safe."

"I'll do my best, sir."

"Then I know they will definitely be safe."

"Thank you, sir."

Father Christmas got into his sleigh, and added, "And long live Aslan!"

"Long live Aslan!"

He rode off. Lucy turned to Susan. "Told you he was real."

I snickered and Peter grinned. Suddenly, his face fell so fast that I knew he'd realized something. Something bad. He turned to me. "Did you hear what he said... 'winter is almost over'. You know what that means...no more ice."

What he was saying hit me with the force of a stampeding minotaur, which, in case you're wondering, is a lot of force and hurts. A lot. We had to get to the river, now.

"Come on!," I yelled. We started running. We had to get there before all the ice was gone. There was no hope if that happened.

AN: Thanks for reading! More action in next chapter! Please review! Thanks! I have to stop using exclamation points after every sentence! I think I need therapy for it!