Silveena
"Merry Christmas, sir." Lucy says as she steps forward. She has a smile on her face as if this has been the highlight of her life.
"It certainly is, Lucy... Since you have arrived." Father Christmas says and then moves his eyes to mine. I stiffen. "Princess, Silveena. It's very nice to have you as an alliance. You truly are a princess of Narnia." My lips quiver as I begin to smile. To hear that from him actually warms my heart. Of all people, he sees me more than my mother's daughter.
"Thank you, sir." I say as I slightly bow my head.
"Look, I've put up with a lot since we got here, but this...," Susan says, but was cut off from Peter.
"We thought you were the witch." He completely disregards her "logical" thoughts. Honestly, I was getting tired of it anyway.
"Yes, sorry about that," Father Christmas says and then turns to the sleigh behind him. "But, in my defense, I have been driving one of these longer than the witch." He continued as he begins taking off his gloves.
"I thought there was no Christmas in Narnia." Susan says as she takes a couple of steps forward.
"Not for a long time. But the hope you have brought, your majesties, is finally starting to weaken the witch's power. Still, I dare say you could do with these!" Father Christmas says excitedly as he drops a huge, brown bag full of, what seems to be, presents on the ground.
"Presents!" Lucy says with an ecstatic expression. Father Christmas reaches into the big, brown bag and takes out... a cordial? It's strange to give such a present like that to children, in my opinion. But, then again, I shouldn't comment on that considering I have a crown with heeling powers and a pointy staff that my mother gave me when I was young.
"The juice of the fire flower. One drop will cure any injury. And though I hope you never have to use it..." Father Christmas then takes out a dagger and hands it to Lucy. She admires both the dagger and the bottle of fire flower juice. At least she has something to protect herself. That fire flower juice could really come in handy.
"Thank you, sir... but I think I could be brave enough." Lucy says as reassurance for herself.
"I'm sure you could. But battles are ugly affairs." Father Christmas points out. He turns to Susan, "Susan, trust in this bow and it will not easily miss." He hands her the bow and the quiver full of bows. Now and arrows require agility and patience. I believe Susan holds great agility, but patience? She's been a bit close-minded for it. But deep down, I believe that's her weapon. I don't see her holding a sword or a dagger.
"What happened to, 'battles are ugly affairs'?" She asks. Father Christmas chuckles.
"And, though you don't seem to have trouble making yourself heard..." He trails off and hands her a sort of horn with a lion imprint on where the horn sound would come out, "Blow on this, and wherever you are, help will come." He informs her furthermore.
"Thanks." Susan says and admires it. I guess she can't be close minded now.
"Peter. The time to use these may be near at hand." Father Christmas says as he hands Peter a great, big sword. The type that you would see a powerful king wielding. He then hands him a silver shield with a red lion on the center. Peter draws out the sword and admires it. It is quite fascinating to look at. Not a single scratch or print on it. It's shiny and perfect.
"Thank you, sir." Peter says not taking his eyes off the sword.
"Silveena," He turned to me, "Oh, thank you, but I think I'm settled." I say as I lean on my staff to catch a bit of my balance. He chuckles and searches through his bag anyway.
"Then, I guess you won't need your father's blade." He says and holds a blade that was approximately 10 inches long. It has many beautiful carvings and detail, "He had trusted that blade for many years and not once has it led him down."
My heart drops. I've never seen my father. I have no recollection of him and my mother never talks about him whatsoever. Whenever I bring up the topic, she's quick to dismiss it and throw me back to my bedroom. Looking at the blade before me, it almost feels like many questions will be answered soon. I look at the beautiful, silver blade with my mouth gaped at it.
"You knew my father? What do you know about him?" I ask as a wave of emotions start to engulf me. I almost feel like crying just looking at it.
"I know enough to tell you that he was once in your shape. And that you'll meet him soon enough." Father Christmas says. I gulp. I'm going to meet him? Soon?
"You're telling me that... He's alive?" I ask in a matter of shock. My mother had only told me that he died in the war when he was trying to steal the kingdom from her. They were against each other, but there love was doomed. She never cared enough. At least that's what I think. She never opens up about her feelings about him... or anything.
"Very much, actually, since he's... well, he's quite different now." He says awkwardly. My brows scrunch in confusion. Different? What does he mean different?
"Different? Different how?" I ask. He sighs and looks down and then at me.
"You'll soon see." He says. He holds the blade in front of me and I slowly reach out for it.
But the moment my finger tips graze the hard silver, a loud roar erupts through my spine. Like if a lion was right behind me. I spin around to only see Peter looking at me concerned. I look at the other Pevensie children and notice the same look on their faces as well.
"Did you hear that?" I ask.
"Hear what?" Lucy says. I look down at the blade on my palm cautiously, yet intrigued by it. Strange blade... I feel very connected to it.
"Thank you." I say to Father Christmas. He places his hand on my shoulder and gives it a gentle pat.
"Be brave... like your father was when he turned against the witch. No one is ever really born evil." He says to me. I nod and send him a tight smile, "And, Misha. Where's Misha?" He asks as he looks around us. Misha then pops his head out of my satchel, "Hello, little guy. I have something for you." I take Misha out the satchel and carry him forward.
"Am I getting a present too, Santa?" Misha asks excitedly.
"More like it, here. This collar contains a shield to keep anything away. If a creature grabs you from their mouth, they instantly get a bitter taste. When you are scared and something you don't like touches you, they get a painful shock." Father Christmas says as he holds a red collar with a golden lion on the center. He then attached the collar around Misha's neck.
"Thank you, Santa." Misha says and starts nudging around his neck a bit getting used to it.
"The collar will grow with him," Father Christmas continues. "Now remember... These are tools, not toys. Bare them well and wisely. Now, I best better be off. Winter is almost over and things do pile up when you've been gone a hundred years! Long live Aslan! And merry Christmas!" Father Christmas cheers as he puts his bag sack on the sleigh. He then hops on and sleighs away quickly disappearing in the distance.
"Bye! Merry Christmas!" We all say and wave. We stay standing there for another few seconds to admire our gifts. I look down at my blade lost in wonder and questions. I don't even know where to start. So many thoughts are rummaging through my head.
What if he doesn't accept me? What if the reason he doesn't accept me is because my mother is the witch of Narnia that turns everyone in her way to stone? What if he thinks I'll turn out like my mother? I simply have so many questions making muscles tense up. To say I'm nervous as ever is an understatement. I don't know when or where I'll finally see my father, but I'm not completely sure if I'm ready or not.
"Are you okay?" Peter asks me. We all had begun walking and I seemed to be behind everyone. I look over at Peter waking beside me.
"I'm just... thinking about him. I don't know what he'll think of me." I turn to look into his ocean, blue eyes.
"I'm sure your father would be thinking the same. I'm sure he's waiting for you. If anything, I don't think he'll ever find a way to not like you. You've been nothing but generous since we met." I look down embarrassed from blushing. I hope he means that. I'd really hate to meet my father and him instantly hating me. I want to do nothing but win this war.
"Thanks." I say to him as I smile to the ground. I feel him pull me in a side hug for reassurance which helps quite a lot. He rubs my arms and we look at one another and smile. He has one of the nicest smiles I've ever seen.