The Choice
Trotting home through the snow, Tumnus cast quick glances at the trees on either side of him. He disliked the dark and shadows that were quickly encroaching and wished that he had brought a lantern with him. As he neared the lamppost at Lantern Waste, Tumnus breathed a sigh of relief. Almost home. Nowadays, it was hard to tell who was on Her side. He gripped his parcels—food and supplies for the next way—and glanced at the lamppost. He gave a start of surprise as he saw….something. Or rather, someone. A little girl.
Well, Tumnus assumed it was a girl, although he had never met one. His mind began racing. What should he do? Pop her into a sack? Where would he get a sack in the middle of Lantern Waste? Tie her up? The only rope in sight was holding his packages together, and by the time he undid it, the girl would be long gone. Also, how would he then carry home his goods?
Think Tumnus, think. I could…..Aha!
And Tumnus knew he had hit upon the perfect solution.
What was that the little girl was saying? Good evening? Hmm, perhaps these humans were civilized. Never one to be impolite, even to people he was kidnapping, Tumnus said, "Ah, good evening, good evening."
Asking the girl some questions, Tumnus soon discovered:
The she really was human,
That she came from a strange land called Spare Oom,
That her name was Lucy.
Tumnus had a rather hard time getting the girl to come along with him, and he finally considered giving up. That is, until he pictured Her face glowering down at him. He shuddered, and brought in the big guns. "There'll be a roaring fire," he said, with a smile that made the young nymph maidens always giggle and blush, "and toast, and sardines, and cake." He hoped humans enjoyed these things. What was he to do if Lucy asked for some strange item that he had never heard of?
Finally, Lucy agreed to join him to tea, and he breathed a small sigh of relief. Arm in arm, the two hurried through the forest, Lucy chattering merrily the entire way. Tumnus pretended to listen, his mind filled with other thoughts.
Oh, what are you to do, Tumnus?
She's only a little thing. This can't be what the witch meant.
Three others—the prophecy….
What will the witch DO to her? She's only a little girl.
Those five words stayed in Tumnus's head the whole way. When they reached his cave, Tumnus ushed Lucy inside, shook the snow from his hooves—and locked the front door. Now, according to what the witch had told him, he was to tie the Daughter of Eve up and take it to her. But Tumnus couldn't. Not yet.
After getting out the tea things, Tumnus and Lucy ate, and talked, and laughed, and ate some more. Before long, Tumnus noticed the little girl's eyes drooping. He stopped talking and took out his prized possession, his flute. He broke into a thoughtful melody, keeping one eye on Lucy. After a few minutes, her head drooped to her chest and she began breathing heavily. He stopped playing and gazed at her.
Now's your chance, his mind whispered. If she wakes up, it's all over.
He stared at her childish little face, her rosy cheeks turned red from the heat of the fireplace. He thought of her family, of the tears when Lucy did not return, and of the suffering the little girl would surely face. Then he thought of himself, and the nice new statue She would make him into if she heard that Lucy got away.
Lucy.
Tumnus was suddenly met with an image of Lucy as a statue, a look of horror on her round face, and of the chubby legs, never to run again.
Never again.
Tumnus gasped audibly, and Lucy awoke. She looked sleepy and innocent—little more than a baby. At the sound of her words, "I must go home," the world blurred, and Tumnus began sobbing. He heard Lucy as from a long way off, calling his name, but he was crying too hard to answer. Finally he choked out, "I'm such a bad faun!" Of course, he then had to explain why he was so bad, mopping his face with Lucy's handkerchief.
What are you doing, Tumnus?
This is your last chance.
Think of Her statue garden! Fine place for you.
Quick! Take her to the witch now and save yourself!
No, Tumnus told himself. Better me than her.
Better me than her.
Before he knew it, he was running with the little Daughter of Eve back to the lamppost where they met. Every step seemed to be saying, "Stop, Tumnus. Turn around Tumnus. It's not too late, Tumnus."
But soon they were at the lamppost, and it WAS too late.
"Can you forgive me for what I meant to do?" Tumnus asked timidly.
"Why of course I can!" said Lucy. And then she was gone, leaving Tumnus clutching her handkerchief and staring after her.
Slowly he turned around and started home.
Better me than her.
Better me than her.
Better me than her.