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, Andrew," 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." He handed another sword and shield to Andrew. 
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," Andrew finished.
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."
Andrew frowned at the siblings. "Peter, Susan, I should think we have more concerning matters. If you haven't noticed, the ice is melting and we need to come up with a plan."
Peter immediately started stepping on the ice. Mr. Beaver grabbed his arm. "Wait. Maybe I should go first."
He nodded. "Maybe you should."
Mr. Beaver stepped onto the ice slowly and patted it with his tail. The ice began cracking under his feet. Mrs. Beaver said, "You've been sneaking second helpings, haven't you?"
Her husband shrugged. "Well, you never know what meal is gonna be your last; especially with your cooking!"
When it was deemed safe enough, they started trekking across the ice. Susan stated worriedly, "If Mum knew what we were doing..."