I don't know why, but I simply had to write this, in fact I needed to write this. I hope you'll enjoy it.
Movieverse. Not Lucy/Tumnus pairing. Christian themes.
Disclaimer: as always, they are not mine.
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The snow was falling, falling, falling...
It has been falling for a century by now, and so has been his soul. Piece by piece, he was losing it by his own foolishness and weakness. He couldn't remember how he got to stand on the precipice, looking down to the place where none could return from. He couldn't remember whether he had willingly jumped or someone had pushed him down.
It had just happened.
And now he was falling, falling, falling...
When had he started falling? He couldn't remember, he didn't know.
To each snowflake touching the ground, he saw a cliff and a tiny figure on the distance, and his heart stormed, becoming icy. No, he couldn't be cold, he was inside, he was at home, his hooves weren't sinking in the snow, his scarf wasn't being torn by the wind... He gulped and looked at the sleeping Daughter of Eve, the cliff still in his mind: he was about to crash, he knew that much.
He needed help, why had none offered him help?
Why..?
He didn't ask for it, that's why...
But now he was begging for it.
Once again he turned his gaze on the window and looked down at the white snow. He could hardly see for the tears in his eyes, but something drew his attention: prints, hoof prints (his hoof prints?) and paw prints, lion's paw prints, the Great Lion's paw prints.
Tumnus wouldn't have known it right then, but this was just the parachute he needed, and Aslan knew it very well: this would slow the Faun down, giving him the time to realise something very important, which he did in a moment of clarity. He had already been saved, a hand – a warm, gentle hand and a welcoming smile – had already grasped him, out there under the lamp-post; Lucy Pevensie's hand. She was Aslan's help sent to him; he wouldn't crash, since he had accepted that help. She had extended her hand and he had taken it. So far he had paralyzed, because he had been looking at the difficulties, not at the Lion's force. Now a cry in the dark, in the wind, into the vortex the sucks, had saved him.
A hand had reached him and his step was firm and steadfast again, his path was by Aslan's path again, lit by His eternal Light.
Outside, a roar shook the icicles from the branches, and a Lion was silhouetted by the sun.
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When he [Peter] saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, "Lord, save me!". Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. "You of little faith," he said, "why did you doubt?" And when they climbed into the boat, the wind died down. Then those who were in the boat worshiped him, saying, "Truly you are the Son of God." (Matthew 14, 30-33)