White Lion

Chapter Four

I was shaking. Trembling with fear. Everyone in the tree could feel it. Thankfully, the wind covered up the shaking branch.

I couldn't talk to my mother again. Not after what she did. She tried to kill me because I hated her.

"What's my reward?" The sly fox asked.

"Your life," the wolves attacked him, "Not that it's worth much, traitor."

They kicked the fox to the ground, "North. They went north."

Maugrim howled and started leading his pack away. In seconds, they were all out of sight.

We got down from the tree.

"Are you okay?" Peter asked.

"No," I replied honestly. What's the point in lying to each other if we could die in the next few hours anyway?

Ms. Beaver sighed, "We heard what happened four years ago."

"Don't talk about it," I snapped, trying to calm down, "Sorry."

"Don't worry, dear," Ms. Beaver smiled sweetly as she walked over to help the fox.

I started a fire that we all sat around as the fox whimpered and fidgeted as Ms. Beaver tried to help him.

"Stay still," Ms. Beaver fretted, "Honestly, you're worse than Beaver on bath day!"

Beaver turned to us, "Worst day of the year."

"So where do we go?" Peter asked.

"Aslan has been on the move," the fox said, "I have to go recruiting, but I'll see you at the camp."

He trotted away.

My heart skipped a beat as I turned to the beavers, "He's back?"

"You didn't know?"

"I've only been here a day, and I couldn't exactly ask Maugrim, could I?" I raised an eyebrow.

Susan then asked, "Why does your mother want you?"

"So she can kill me to ensure everyone knows how powerful she is," I shrugged, "I'm not going back. Honestly, I'd rather the wolves killed me."

"Why-"

I shook my head, "Go to sleep. I'll keep watch." It's not like I was going to sleep anyway.

My eyes snapped the moment a twig snapped. My hand was on my sword, and I was ready to fight.

"Relax," Peter said, "It's just us."

"I fell asleep, didn't I?"

Susan frowned, "That's a bad thing?"

"Let's get moving," I said, "We have to cross some frozen plains if we want to reach Aslan."

No one protested as I slid my sword back into its sheath over my back and started walking towards the frozen plain.

"It's so far," Peter sounded almost like he was complaining.

"It's the world, dear," Ms. Beaver chuckled, "Did you expect it to be small?"

Susan muttered, "Smaller."

We moved across the plain through the day. I walked at the back while the beavers ran ahead.

Eventually, we were close to the tree line.

"Come on, let's get there while we're still young," Beaver kept fretting.

"If that beaver tells us to hurry up one more time, I'm going to turn him into a furry hat," I sincerely hoped Peter was joking.

But the beaver turned around and shouted, "Hurry, hurry!"

Peter shouted in frustration, but I heard the sleigh bells. I shoved him forwards, "She's coming."

I couldn't keep the panic out of my voice as we ran as fast as we could to the tree line. I ended up carrying the beavers to a small Little Rock overhang, which we all hid beneath.

Jadis, the White Witch, was not forgiving. She would kill me, but she would make me suffer first. I was shivering, and not from the cold winter air.

"Is she gone?" Lucy squeaked.

"I guess we'll have to go and see."

Peter tried to stand up, but Beaver stopped him, "You're no good to Narnia dead."

Before Ms. Beaver could protest, Beaver ran out. All was silent for a few long moments.

He burst out of the snow and chattered excitedly, "I hope you've all been good! There's someone here to see ya!"

We all cautiously walked out into the open to see a man in a red suit smiling. Father Christmas was here.

Winter was ending.

Wrong will be right,
when Aslan comes in sight.
At the sound of his roar,
sorrows will be no more.
When he bares his teeth,
winter meets its end.
And when he shakes his mane,
we shall have spring again.

"What?" Lucy asked.

I hadn't realized I said it aloud, "Nothing."

"In my defense, I have been riding one of these," the old man patted his hand on the sleigh, "a lot longer than that witch."

I flinched subconsciously at the mention of my mother. No one noticed.

"Now, if you're going to battle, you're going to need these."

As he lifted a red sack of gifts over his shoulder, Lucy squeaked, "Presents!"

"These are no ordinary presents," the man grabbed a small red flask, "The juice of a fire-flower. One drop can cure any injury." He then handed her a dagger, "Though I hope you never have to use it."

"I think I could be brave enough," Lucy carefully clipped them to her belt and stepped back behind Peter and Susan.

Father Christmas smiled, "I have no doubt, though wars are ugly affairs. Susan," he handed her a long bow and a quiver of red arrows, "Trust in this bow and it will not easily miss."

She grabbed it and snorted, "What happened to wars being ugly affairs?"

"And though you seem to have no trouble making yourself heard," he handed her a beautifully carved horn, the should seeming to come out of the lion's roaring mouth at the head, "Blow this horn, and wherever you are, help will come."

Susan took them gratefully, but said nothing as Father Christmas turned to Peter, handing him a sword with a lion pommel in a red sheath as well as a shield, again with a lion's head on it.

The boy carefully clipped the sword onto his belt at his side, placing the shield over his back.

"Madilyn," Father Christmas turned to me, startling me. He passed me a small dagger with a handle like those of the swords, "The little things could save your life." He also handed me a bundle of red fabric smaller than my fist.

I gratefully took them and smiled weakly.

"Well, I'd best get going. Things tend to pile up when you've been gone a hundred years," Father Christmas exclaimed as he climbed back into his sleigh, "Long live Aslan, and Merry Christmas!"

With that, he vanished.

"We should keep moving," I said, "The witch can't be far behind us."

As we walked, I opened the fabric to see a necklace.

A golden lion head roaring, backing onto a silver snowflake. I knew where this came from.

When we reached the frozen waterfall, the last thing between us and Aslan's camp, we heard howls.

We had to run.