Father Christmas

Chibb flew for most of that night, then he slept for a while in a tree. When he woke it was morning and he flew again. It was just before noon when the mountains of Archanland came into view and Chibb flew with renewed courage.

Suddenly a huge black shadow fell across him and he looked up to see two of the witch's vultures circling above him. He banked away as one dove and collided with the talons of the other one.

He barely escaped, leaving only a poof of feathers.

The vultures dove again and nearly had him. Chibb dove, trying to look for cover, but there was none to be had.

He saw the blazing red eyes of the vultures and swallowed.

"You're not getting out of this one, Chibb old boy," he thought as he swoop sideways again. Suddenly, talons closed over his fat little body.

~o*o~

The wolf pack streaked across the moonlit snow like some bad dream. They reached the beaver's dam much faster than Eustace had reached the witch's castle. The little house in the middle of the dam laid still and dark.

The wolves flitted across the dam and they circled the house, howling.

"Open up!" Maugrim lifted a heavy clawed paw and left a long jagged scratch in the little door of the house, "Open in the name of the secret police!"

Maugrim waited, "All right, break it down!"

There was a crash of breaking glass as Fenris broke though one of the widows.

"Ten of you stay out here with Shard," Maugrim said before he threw himself though the broken window as well, "the rest follow me!"

More windows broke as ten wolves dropped into the beaver's house.

They cast around, searching, noses to ground. Bedding was pulled out of the beds, Eustace's coat was shredded, Mrs. Beaver's spinning wheel was reduced to match sticks and the ashes were dug out of the fireplace as the wolves looked up the chimney.

Maugrim soon saw that it was impossible for the humans to be hidden in the house.

"Everyone outside!" he hollered and forced the door open.

A gray stream of quick silver followed him outside as the ten wolves evacuated the house, some were still chewing on parts of the spinning wheel and others were fighting over a ham.

"Silence!" Maugrim shouted, "Are you a bunch of overgrown puppies or are you part of the Secret Police!"

Instantly the nose ceased.

"That's better," Maugrim said, "Now Shard, take five of the best trackers and find the humans. Split up if necessary, send a scout when you have found them, he will meet us here."

Shard was the best tracker of the Secret Police and only he knew which the best were. A plan was beginning to form in his mind, it was cunning and dangerous and if it failed it would be the last plan he would ever make, but he was willing to die.

He turned to the pack and selected the worst trackers of the bunch. He saw Fenris look at him suspiciously, but Shard was away before he could be questioned.

As soon as Shard and his chosen five were out of sight of the others, he turned to them. He had already picked up the human scent, but the others hadn't and he knew he had to send them away before it was too late. He split them up into two search parties and sent them in the opposite direction of the scent; he himself followed the human trail.

~o*o~

"What is it?" Edmund whispered.

"Sleigh bells," Mr. Beaver said, "It's the witch, she's the only one with sleigh bells in Narnia!"

The bells stopped right outside the hole. Everyone froze and dared not breathe.

Snow fell though the entrance on top of them as someone scuffled through the bushes.

"We're all going to be dead in a moment," Mr. Beaver's voice was heavy, "I'm sorry."

"Merry Christmas!"

Everyone jumped.

"Is that what she usually says?" Lucy asked in a small voice.

A joyful laugh sounded above them and they looked up to see a rosy face of an old man with a long white beard, looking down at them at the entrance, "Come out Beavers! Come out Daughters of Eve and come out Sons of Adam! It isn't the witch, it's only me!"

"Father Christmas!" Lucy squealed and rocketed out of her place right into the arms of the old man.

"I knew you were real!" She said as he lifted her out, "I knew it! I knew it!"

He set her down on the snow, "Of course I'm real!"

Lucy looked around herself and saw the sleigh, a beautiful thing that seemed to be made out of gold, drawn by eight reindeer that were looking at her with curiosity. Father Christmas himself was dressed in a mantle of red velvet edged with white fur.

Peter was the first one to come out of the hole; he was followed by Susan, then Edmund and finally the beavers.

"Oh good," Father Christmas laughed, "You're all out now, let me have a look at you…yes, yes, you'll do."

"But Sir!" Mrs. Beaver gasped, "The witch has been keeping you out!"

"Yes," Father Christmas said, "But Aslan is on the move! He has melted the witch's power enough to let me in, because, he wants' me to give you people some things that you need."

"Oh this is wonderful!" Mrs. Beaver sighed, "Really wonderful! I haven't had a real Christmas since the kids left!"

"Yes and I'm here to give you one," Father Christmas said, "Now for your present's!"

"Presents?" Lucy said, her eyes were wide, "We get presents?

"Yes little lady," Father Christmas ruffled her hair, "these presents are from Aslan, you will probably never get any others like them."

He lifted a big bag from the back of the sleigh, put it on the snow at his feet and opened it up.

"Mrs. Beaver," Father Christmas said, "for you there is a new and better spinning wheel, I'll drop it off at your house on the way through."

"Oh thank you sir!" Mrs. Beaver clasped her paws in delight.

"Mr. Beaver," Father said, "When you return to Narnia and to your house you will find the dam completed and a new sluice gate fitted."

Mr. Beaver was so happy he couldn't speak; he just reached out and shook Father Christmas's hand.

"Now Lucy," said Father Christmas peering into his sack, "here are your presents."

He pulled out a bow that was nearly as tall as Lucy herself, it was made of dark springy wood and the grip was wrapped with leather. It was a beautiful thing, long, elegant, the wood lined with light and dark. Lucy drew the string to her ear, it was hard, but she managed it. She let the string go and watched it vibrate.

Father Christmas handed her a dark leather quiver filled with arrows fletched with white feathers. The quiver was tooled with an intricate design of scrolling leaves, so beautifully done, they almost looked real

"The bow and quiver were made by the dryads, the bow does not easily miss because it is perfectly balanced, but I would advise you to aim it," Father Christmas said, smiling. "The stars themselves tested it and it is said Ramandu struck an asteroid at five hundred yards."

"Oh Father Christmas," Lucy cried and hugged him, "they are wonderful presents!"

"I have something else for you, Lucy," Father Christmas reached into his sack and pulled out a horn, it was beautifully polished and bound in gold, "this horn was made by the stars, when you blow it help of some kind will come."

"Thank you!" Lucy gasped, but she couldn't hug him again because she had her arms full.

"Susan!" Father Christmas said.

Susan stepped forward.

Father Christmas handed her a crystal bottle of red gold liquid, like honey. It seemed to glow of itself. "The cordial in this bottle is made from the nectar of the fire flowers on the sun, if you or any of your companions is hurt, one drop of this will restore them. It does not have the power to bring someone back from the dead."

In awe Susan looked at it, here was a fulfilling of her dreams, something that was worth a million first aid boxes.

"This little dagger is to protect yourself," Father Christmas handed her a small, slender dagger with an amethyst pummel stone; "It was made in Bism, in the very depths of the earth."

"Thank you sir!" Susan said at last.

Father Christmas smiled, then turned, "Edmund!"

"Here sir," Edmund said smartly.

Father Christmas pulled a sword in a black sheath, bound in silver, out of his bag and laid it in Edmunds hands.

The sword was beautiful in its simplicity. Long flowing lines made up the hilt and tang and a blue star sapphire, clear as Edmund's eyes, glowed in the pommel. The sunlight glittered brilliantly off the facets.

"Like your sister's dagger this sword was made in Bism, in the very heart of the earth, it was named Evyn, 'Shadow' in the old speech," Father Christmas said, "the steal of Bism is so strong that no sword up here on earth can break it."

"For me?" Edmund asked in a very small voice.

"Yes," Father Christmas laughed, "for you."

Edmund turned away to show Peter the sword and Peter stared at it open mouthed.

"Wait," Father Christmas laughed, "I'm not finished yet!"

Edmund looked around with an awestruck look on his face and Father Christmas handed him a sword hilted dagger with a blade that was about a foot long.

Edmund said nothing, but just sat down in the snow and looked at his gifts with complete awe.

"Peter," Father Christmas said.

Peter stepped forward quietly.

Father Christmas pulled another sword from his bag. It was very like Edmund's, longer perhaps and the shape was slightly different. The hilt was bound in leather and the pommel stone was a blood red ruby. It was plain, very plain, but so elegant one could never tire of looking at it. Even the tooling and silver made the sheathe more decorated then the sword.

Peter drew the sword from the sheath and watched the light dance down the length of the blade. It rippled and gleamed and Peter saw how two different steels had been mixed to make the blade stronger.

"It is Rhindon, 'Light' in the old speech," Father Christmas said, "it was also made in Bism and also only one who is worthy can draw it."

Father Christmas pulled a shield out of his sack and handed it to Peter, it had a rampant red lion leaping across it. The corners were bound in silver and richly decorated. Peter sheathed his sword and took it.

"Thank you sir," Peter said.

"And now for you all!" Father Christmas made a motion, as if throwing something and the beavers found themselves holding trays laden with breakfast.

"I must go now!" Father Christmas said, climbing into his sleigh, "Merry Christmas and long live Aslan!"

Then, a word from him and the reindeer bounded forward leaving the small party staring after them.

"It's a good thing we had those fencing lessons at school," Edmund said, standing up, "Isn't it?"

"Jolly good thing," Peter said drawing his sword again, "On guard!"

Edmund drew his and they started a very slow sword fight. They quickly found that fencing foils and broad swords are two different animals.

"Oh for goodness sakes!" Mrs. Beaver hollered, "The breakfast is getting cold and you're jabbing at each other with pokers! I like that!"

But at the mention of breakfast, both boys decided that fencing could wait.

"I'm hungry!" Edmund said.

A/N: Edmund's always hungry...have you noticed?

I know switching Susan's and Lucy's gifts around seems weird at first, but if you think about it, it actually makes sense. The cordial fits Susan's personality and Lucy is the warrior queen (See The Horse and His Boy). After all, Susan is the sensible one. She concerns herself with other peoples' welfare.

~Rose

As I write this, Psyche is shelling peas and airing her opinions. I can't even write a little Author's Note without help! ;)

Coming Up: Chibb Falls