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𝕭𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐈: 𝖂𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝖂𝐀𝐑

𝕮𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝕿𝐞𝐧: the winds of change

THEY HAD BEEN WALKING FOR TWO DAYS with only a few hours rest. Ashara hadn't allowed them to stop for very long, afraid Maugrim and his pack might catch up with them. They walked from dusk till dawn and she made sure to wake them all as soon as the first rays of sunlight came shining through the trees. She granted them an hour rest during the day to eat what little food they had left but not much more than that.

She could feel herself growing uneasy with each passing moment, knowing the wolves would have noticed eventually that there were no tracks leading north. It was because of her nerves she hadn't been able to sleep much and she could feel it starting to catch up with her. The need to protect the Pevensies caused her to take the nightwatch and lose out on sleep. She knew she needed the energy, but also knew she was the only one who knew how to use a sword should they be attacked during the night.

Her lack of sleep did not go unnoticed by her travelling companions but none of them dared to comment on it, knowing Ashara would not listen to their concerns. Besides, wanting to protect them wasn't the only reason she couldn't find any rest.

Peter had barely looked at her since she lost control of her magic. At least, that was what she thought happened because she simply didn't have another explanation for it. And even this explanation was strange because she had never lost control like this before.

In the few hours she did manage to get some sleep she dreamed of golden light, enveloping her completely as she stared into ocean blue eyes. And when she was awake, those same eyes refused to look at her. She had never dealt with anything like this and it terrified her.

As they walked she tried to remember her lessons. Maybe her father had told her something about a golden string, maybe she'd read it somewhere in a book but she'd simply forgotten. However, her mind stayed empty. There was nothing she could remember that talked about a golden string connecting two people. And so she assumed it was her doing.

Taking a deep breath she looked up from the ground, trying to push those confusing questions to the back of her mind. She had to keep her focus on getting the King and Queens safely to Aslan. She had already failed one of them and couldn't afford to make any more mistakes. Which was why she walked at the back of the line, her hand on the hilt of the sword, protecting their rear.

The watery sun shone down on the white plain surrounding them as they crossed the frozen lake. The sun gave no warmth, but was still bright enough to force Ashara to squint against the way the light reflected off the white surface. In the distance she could see the shore, waiting for them but they were only halfway. They were all tired and their pace was slow, all of them except Mister Beaver it seemed.

"Come on humans!" He called from his position at the front of the row. "While we're still young."

She watched as Peter came to a stop next to Susan, shaking his head before kneeling down to let Lucy jump on his back. "If he tells us to hurry, one more time, I'm gonna turn him into a big fluffy hat."

Susan chuckled softly as they continued their way, though not before Peter threw a quick glance at Ashara over his shoulder. She held her breath as their eyes met, but the golden light did not return and only when he looked away did she exhale. She hated feeling as though she was walking along the edge of a knife, careful not to tip over the side, but when it came to Peter, it seemed like she had no other choice but to feel this way.

"Come on!" Mr. Beaver called again. "Hurry up!"

"He is getting a little bossy," Lucy mumbled.

But no one laughed this time, because a warning shout came from Mrs. Beaver. "Behind you! It's her! Run!"

Ashara looked over her shoulder and felt her heart race at the sight of a carriage coming their way across the lake. The sunlight was too bright to make out who was driving it, but she only knew one person who used a carriage in Narnia...

"Run!" She shouted as she pushed her legs to move.

Peter put Lucy down again, holding her hand as they sprinted across the lake. Ashara stayed close behind them, making sure Lucy wouldn't trip as they hurried away from the carriage. The shore came closer and closer as they ran for their lives.

The sound of tiny bells seemed to grow louder behind them but Ashara forced herself to keep her eyes focused forward, focused on the treeline. They wouldn't be able to outrun the Witch forever and so their only chance was to find a hiding place.

"Beaver!" Ashara called out. "Get rid of our tracks!"

Mr. Beaver immediately seemed to understand her plan and rushed towards her, closing the row as they ran. He used his tail to flatten the snow and get rid of their footsteps. If they were to hide they couldn't afford to lead the Witch right to them.

Finally they reached the treeline, disappearing beneath the snow covered branches as the sound of the carriage kept following them, coming ever closer.

Frantically looking around for anything that might be able to serve as a hiding spot, Ashara's gaze finally landed on a small cave, hidden by a small ridge on the hill. "Down there!" She shouted.

Mrs. Beavers led the Pevensies towards the small cave and Ashara watched as they disappeared inside. She looked over her shoulder to see Mr. Beaver had succeeded in getting rid of their footsteps and only then did she bent down and crawl into the small cave herself, joined by the two Beavers.

The cave was small, pressing her against Peter's chest, so close she was almost seated on his lap. But when his blue eyes looked at her, she saw her own fear reflected instead of the suspicion she'd become used to these past few days. She tried to offer him a reassuring smile but knew it was an empty gesture.

Above their heads they could hear the carriage being pulled to a stop and for a moment there was nothing but silence. Until careful footsteps made the snow crack and a shadow was casted on the ground before them. A figure was standing on top of the ridge they were hiding beneath, looking out over the forest for a trace of them. Snow came falling down the entrance of the cave.

Slowly the shadow retreated and yet none of them moved, frozen with fear. Bells rang softly as the figure retreated to the sleigh. Then silence enveloped the forest once again.

"Maybe she's gone," Lucy whispered.

"I suppose I'll go look," Peter replied softly, moving to stand but Mr. Beaver stopped him.

"No! You're worth nothing to Narnia dead," he said and moved to the entrance of the small cave.

"Wel, neither are you, Beaver," Mrs. Beaver whispered, holding his paw.

Mr. Beaver offered her a small smile. "Thanks, sweetheart." Then, silently, he crawled back up the ridge, leaving them to wait in tense silence.

Her hand was holding the hilt of her sword tightly, ready to pull the blade free and protect the Pevensies. She noticed Peter was watching her, but she ignored him as she waited, her stomach a tight knot of nerves.

Hurried footsteps approached, snow fell down again and suddenly Mr. Beaver appeared. Lucy gave a startled yell but he ignored her. "Come out! Come out!" And only then did she notice the huge smile on his face. "I hope you've all been good 'cause there's someone here to see ya!" Then he disappeared again.

Susan and Lucy shared a confused glance before getting to their feet. Peter offered Lucy his hand as he helped her climb back up the ridge and despite Beaver's sudden cheeriness, Ashara still held her sword as she followed.

Though as soon as she made her back up the ridge, her hand dropped at the sight before her. A smile appeared on her face when she saw the familiar red sleigh pulled by several reindeers. In front of it stood Father Christmas himself, a huge leather coat covering his body and a grey beard hiding half of his face. Though it was easy to see he was smiling, soon followed by a booming laugh when he saw their stunned faces.

"Merry Christmas, sir!" Lucy said, smiling brightly as she let go of Peter's hand and walked forward, all fear forgotten.

"It certainly is, Lucy. Since you have arrived," he replied, his blue eyes twinkling at the sight of the young Queen.

Susan turned to look at her brother. "Look, I've put up with a lot since I got here but this-" She left her sentence unfinished, unable to put words to the situation they'd found themselves in.

"We thought you were the Witch," Peter said.

"Yes, yes I'm sorry about that," Father Christmas said. "But in my defence, I have been driving one of these-" he gestured to his sleigh "-longer than the Witch."

"I thought there was no Christmas in Narnia?" Susan questioned.

"No, not for a long time. But the hope that you have brought, your majesties, is finally starting to weaken the Witch's power."

Ashara felt herself smile at those words. She'd known the coming of the Kings and Queens would change things, but to see it happening before her eyes was another thing entirely.

"Still," Father Christmas continued as he reached for the huge sack behind him. "I dare say you could do with these!"

"Presents!" Lucy exclaimed and hurried forward.

He reached inside and pulled out two small items, then turned to Lucy, a sudden serious expression on his face. He handed her the first gift. A small crystal bottle that contained a bright red potion. It was held in a little pouch attached to a bandolier to carry it around her waist.

"The juice of the fire-flower," Father Christmas explained. "One drop will cure any injury."

Lucy took it with wide eyes.

"And though I hope you never have to use it..." He handed her the second gift, a small dagger in a red sheath.

"Thank you, sir," Lucy said. "but I think I could be brave enough."

"I'm sure you could," he replied. "But battles are ugly affairs." Then he smiled at her and turned to the sack again. This time he took a beautiful bow with an ivory quiver and a horn with a lion's mouth. "Susan," he said.

With a slightly awed look on her face, Susan walked forwards and took the bow and quiver in her hands.

"Trust in this bow and it will not easily miss."

"What happened to 'battles are ugly affairs'?" She questioned.

He laughed. "Though you don't seem to have a problem making yourself heard-" he handed her the beautiful horn "-blow on this and wherever you are, help will come."

She smiled. "Thanks."

Father Christmas nodded at her before turning to the oldest Pevensie. "Peter, the time to use these may be near at hand." He held out a magnificent sword. The handle formed a golden lion's head and the sheath was made of the finest red leather. Then he handed him a shield as well. Shining silver with a proud, roaring, red lion on it.

Slowly Peter released the blade and it shone brightly in the sunlight. There were golden marks carved in the middle of the sword, forming a poem that told of Aslan's return. He stared at it in wonder, though there was a certain weight to his gaze as well. As if he'd suddenly realised what exactly it was that the prophecy asked of him.

"Thank you, sir," he smiled, still staring at the blade.

"These are tools," Father Christmas said. "Not toys. Bear them well and wisely."

Peter nodded and then returned to sword into the sheath.

"Ashara," the old man said as he reached into his sack once again. As she approached he smiled at her. "It is good to see you again."

She nodded, feeling her heart warm at the memories of the Christmas evenings spent with her family and Father Christmas, unpacking their gifts and eating the most delicious meals. "It is," she said.

His gaze wandered to her father's sword at her side and he smiled then. "I believe I made the right call when I decided you did not need a sword."

She placed her hand on the hilt. "She still serves me well."

Father Christmas nodded and then handed her his first gift. It was a dagger with a red and silver hilt. A lion was carved into the handle and the blade was curved, like the swords of the lands to the south. "I hope this dagger will serve you just as well."

She took the stunning blade into her hands and smiled. "Thank you."

His eyes twinkled at her stunned expression. Then he reached for the second gift. It was much smaller and she couldn't even tell what it was until he opened his palm. In his hand lay a small box. It was made of wood and painted on the lid were the most intricate designs of ivy and flowers.

Carefully she took it and opened the lid. Inside, on a red cushion, lay several seeds. Some were small, others larger. All of them had different colors and shapes and looked unique.

"Plant these when the snow has melted and Narnia will never grow hungry again," Father Christmas explained. "For a plant from these seeds will grow until the end of time."

With wide eyes she closed the lid again and swallowed the lump that had appeared in her throat. This was a gift she could only ever have dreamed of and now she was holding it in the palm of her hands. Narnia would never suffer a hungry winter again.

He leaned closer and then whispered with a wink. "And I do believe one of them is a strawberry plant."

She grinned. "Thank you."

Father Christmas nodded at her and then finally turned to the Beavers. "Mrs. Beaver," he began. "I've left a sewing machine on the table of your home. For it was far too heavy to carry all the way here."

Mrs. Beaver beamed. "Thanks!"

"And for you Mr. Beaver, I've fixed the damage Maugrim and his pack had caused to your home. You will find your home waiting for you should you ever return."

Mr. Beaver's eyes widened. "Thank you, sir!"

"Now," he spoke with his booming voice. "I must be off!" He put the sack back into his sleigh. "Winter is almost over and things do pile up when you've been gone a hundred years!" His smile faded and suddenly he seemed serious again. "Long live Aslan!" He stepped back into his sleigh and then added: "And Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas!" They called back to him, waving as he moved the sleigh forward and disappeared out of sight, gone as soon as he'd come.

Lucy turned to look at her sister. "Told you he was real!"

Susan scoffed but didn't really have an argument and so remained silent.

"He said winter is almost over," Peter spoke up. "You know what that means? No more ice."

Her eyes widened. "The river," she said.

It turned out she hadn't imagined the dripping sounds she'd been hearing along their journey after all. The snow was indeed melting, which meant soon the river would no longer be covered in ice. And that would make crossing a lot more difficult...

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I've been so excited to write this chapter! It took a me while to figure out what gifts I wanted Ashara to get but this is absolutely perfect for her. Now she can eat strawberry cakes forever lol. What do you guys think about it?

Also I love her awkward situation with Peter. I can't wait for these two to sit down and have a talk again but we're going to have to wait a little bit longer for that to happen ;)

Thank you all so much for the support on this story. I love and appreciate every single one of you!

xx Nelly