Song of a Lass

07

"What's that?" Susan asked. "What's..."

"Shh, shh, shh," Peter instructed.

Mr. Beaver popped his head down and Lucy shrieked.

"Come out!" Mr. Beaver cried. "Come out! I hope you've all been good 'cause there's someone here to see ya!"

The others looked at each other curiously before emerging from the little cave.

Lucy smiled widely and walked towards the man. "Merry Christmas, sir."

Father Christmas smiled at the young girl. "It certainly is, Lucy. Since you have arrived."

Susan frowned. "I thought there was no Christmas in Narnia."

There was a twinkle in the man's eye as he said, "There hasn't been for a hundred years. But now, the Witch's power is crumbling. The princess can feel it."

He grabbed his bag from the back of the sleigh and threw it down on the ground and opened it up. "Presents!" Lucy cried.

Father Christmas, once again, smiled at the girl. "Lucy. Eve's daughter. These are for you. The juice of the fire flower. One drop will cure any injury. And though I hope you never need it..." He handed her a vial and a dagger.

Lucy took them with a small smile. "Thank you, sir. I think I could be brave enough."

"I'm sure you could. But battles are ugly affairs. Susan, trust in this bow, for it does not easily miss."

Susan looked down at the bow and back up at Father Christmas. "What happened to battles are ugly affairs?"

He continued. "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."

"Thanks," Susan replied.

"Peter," Father Christmas said, holding out a sword and shield. "These are tools, not toys. Bare them well, and wisely. The time to use them may soon be at hand."

Lucy frowned. "Does Clara get anything?"

Clara smiled softly. "It's all right, Lucy. I don't need a gift. The joy of this land returning to what it should be is the best gift I could receive."

He put the bag back in his sleigh. "Bare them well! I best be off. Winter is almost over and things do pile up when you've been gone a thousand years. Long live Aslan! And Merry Christmas!"

They said their goodbyes and Merry Christmases. Lucy smirked. "Told you he was real."

Peter frowned. "He said winter was almost over. You know what that means..."

"No more ice," Clara finished.

"Can you make more?"

Clara frowned. "Yes, but why would I do that? I'm tired of an eternal winter. As you would be after a century of living in such weather."

They reached the river and Peter wanted to cross it as soon as possible, but Susan held him back. "Wait. Maybe we should think about this for a minute."

Peter shook his head. "We don't have a minute."

"I was just trying to be realistic."

"No, you're trying to be smart... as usual."

Clara frowned at the siblings. "Peter, Susan, we have more pressing matters. The ice is melting and we must come up with a plan."

Peter immediately started stepping on the ice. Mr. Beaver grabbed his arm. "Wait. Maybe I should go first."