❝ there was a difference between living and existing, and for the first time, phoebe felt like she was living. and wasn't that a marvellous thing?❞
[book 1]
in which a boy calls a girl irrelevant, but somehow manages to fall in love with her anyway...
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The old man removed parcel after parcel from the bag at his feet, Lucy's excitement ever growing as he did so. She was practically jumping up and down. Father Christmas noticed her and chuckled slightly, causing a red blush of embarrassment to dust along her cheeks.
"Lucy Pevensie," he said in his deep voice, "This is for you." He handed her a small bottle, and a dagger sheathed in some sort of leather holder. "It is the juice of the fire flower. One drop can heal even the harshest of blows. And, though I hope you will never have need of it, a dagger fit for a queen." Lucy regarded her gifts, wide-eyed and apprehensive.
"Sir, I don't think I could ever be brave enough..." Her voice was quiet, stunned out of her normal vigour and volume.
"My dear, I believe you could, when the time is right. Battles are ugly affairs. Wield it for the good, and you will likely strike true." Lucy gulped, looking down cautiously at the small bottle and weapon, now clutched in her small hands. "Susan?" She stepped forwards, looking briefly over to Phoebe, and down at the gifts Lucy had just received.
"Yes?" Susan's voice was uneasy, unsure of herself. That really was unlike Susan. At least, unlike Susan on the outside. Phoebe was almost certain her bravado was a disguise - she was insecure, just as the rest of them were, and she loved her siblings fiercely.
"Trust in this bow. It will not easily miss. A bit of practice could also help, though." There was a twinkle in his eye as he said those words, passing the ornate weapon and quiver over to Susan's waiting hands.
"I thought battles were ugly affairs, sir?" Father Christmas chuckled as Susan said that, shaking his head before pulling yet another decorated piece of ivory from the pile.
"You may not have trouble making yourself heard." Susan blushed, and Phoebe laughed slightly. "But wherever you are, blow on this horn, and help will come to you." Susan regarded the horn with caution, obviously trying to work out its logistics.
"Thank you." Susan's voice was soft, admiring her new gifts. The jovial man pulled out two much larger items before waving Peter forwards with a hand.
"Peter, I fear that the time to use these may be near at hand. Use them well." While Lucy had received a dagger, Peter was given a full-sized, sharpened sword. His shield was red, adorned with the crest of a lion, mid-roar. Peter drew the sword out slightly, the metal scraping against the leather of the sheath. His eyes went wide, emotions running through them. "Phoebe?" Her eyes whipped over to him. Her? He had a gift for her?
"Yes?" Her voice trembled more than she would've liked. He pulled out three rather small packages and held one out to her. It was a book. Phoebe could feel her ears turning red, embarrassment painting her the colour of a ruby. "Sir, I- I can't-" He shook his head, cutting her off.
"I know. But nonetheless." He pressed the book into her outstretched hands, and they closed around it. She was still confused. "And these. You will know what they are for when the time comes." He handed her two necklaces - on each, a small ring sat, one larger than her finger, and one which looked as though it would fit. They were ornately carved, small brass illustrations of something she couldn't quite make out. "It would be cruel of me to not also give you these, of course." From the final package, he produced two daggers, joined on a belt. They were beautiful in their simplicity.
