A/N: I'm back! – Can you believe it? And yes, I bring another tale of Tumnus. Break out the toast and sardines!
This story will cover about two years, with each chapter being a season. It will not have a completely continuous storyline, but instead offer glimpses into Tumnus' life as a young Faun right before the hundred-year winter. I hope you enjoy it!
Disclaimer: This story was written for entertainment purposes only. Unless it turns out to be terrible, in which case it was written to inflict pain on innocent fanfiction readers.
Year 899, SPRING:
Music Lessons
"The tune he played made Lucy want to cry and laugh and dance and go to sleep all at the same time." – The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.
"And you put your fingers like so, and then… Master Tumnus, will you pay attention?"
The young Faun whirled around and nearly fell off his stool. His face blushed scarlet, and he quivered under the aged Faun's severe frown.
"Staring out of the window again?" the music instructor tutted, shaking his curly grey head. "How many times must I tell you, young Master Tumnus? You will never learn to play the flute if you do not concentrate."
Most of the students grinned, and there were a few snickers stifled behind hands. Young Tumnus turned redder than ever. "S – s – sorry, Mister Dorinus, sir," he stammered, nearly dropping the flute.
The instructor sighed, and turned back to the class. "So you position your fingers thus, and blow steadily over the top of the pipes." He demonstrated, and soon the small hut was filled with discordant sounds as the six young Fauns attempted to emulate Dorinus.
Tumnus was still trembling from being publicly reprimanded, and his lips quivered as he tried to produce a single note. But no matter how hard he blew, he could produce nothing remotely resembling the sound of a flute; he may as well have been blowing through a bulrush.
The music instructor moved among the students, correcting their technique as he went. When he reached Tumnus, the poor young Faun's fingers shook so much that he couldn't even hold the flute to his lips. Dorinus shook his head in disappointment.
"Your fingering is good, young Master Tumnus," the older Faun said gruffly, "But that doesn't matter if you cannot make any noise."
When the lesson was finally over, Tumnus put away the flute and practically fled from Dorinus' little hut. It wasn't that he was the worst student in the class. He just happened to be the most bashful one, a serious shortcoming indeed for a musician. Thankfully his father knew that he suffered acutely from nerves, and wouldn't call upon him to perform. As he trotted up to the door to his cave, he wondered how he could keep his father from learning about his abysmal performance from Dorinus.
Still deep in thought, Tumnus pushed open the little wooden door but stopped short when he saw that his father had company.
"She arrived last winter, from what I heard…" Limnus' voice trailed off when noticed his son standing in the doorway. "Hello, Tumnus," he smiled. "How was your first lesson?"
"Fine," Tumnus lied, putting his lunch-pail by the pantry. It was thankfully dim in that part of the cave, so Limnus did not notice the colour suffusing over his son's cheeks.
His father gestured at the stranger he had been speaking with. "Have you met Nictus?" The Faun who shook Tumnus' hand was a jolly-looking fellow with a red beard. Tumnus murmured an appropriate greeting, and grabbed a piece of toast from the stack on the table.
"Nictus and I have a few things to talk about," his father was saying. "Don't mind our conversation."
Still munching on his toast, Tumnus grabbed a book at random from the shelf. "Actually, I think I'll go outside to read for a while," he babbled. He was desperate to get out of the house to avoid any more questions about his disastrous music lesson, and his father knew his fondness for books.
Limnus waved his hand. "That's fine, son. Be back in time for dinner."
The young Faun nodded before making a hasty escape. As he opened the door, he heard Nictus saying, "She calls herself a Queen…" and wondered idly who they were talking about.
Tumnus trudged through the forest, bad-temperedly kicking at the loam. But by the time he reached a tiny trickling stream, he felt much better. The air was cool and fresh in the shade of a large oak-tree, and flowers nodded on every side. It was hard to feel cross when nature was rejoicing on such a glorious spring day.
The young Faun plucked a yellow crocus and deeply inhaled the fragrance as he opened his book. It was Nymphs and Their Ways. He had read it twelve times, and knew it almost by heart. Despite his knowledge, Tumnus had never spoken with a Nymph before. He had seen them several times in the forest, of course, but young Fauns usually stayed among their own, and he was still considered too young to attend the Midnight Dances. Limnus had told him to wait one more spring.
The young Faun sighed, looking down at the book. He did not feel very much like reading. His father sometimes said that he read too much, but Tumnus had always been good at it. He'd already laboured through every book they had in the house, a notable achievement considering that their bookshelf was stuffed with volumes three-deep on the shelves.
But this music business was another matter. Flute-playing was considered a skill that all respectable Fauns ought to have. It was like dancing, in a way. And although Tumnus was quick to pick up on the techniques, whenever it came to demonstrating his ability he fell completely apart. Halfway through his first lesson he had taken to gazing out of the window, not because he found music uninteresting, but because the lesson was moving much too slowly for his taste. While the other Fauns struggled to learn how to hold their flutes properly, and endeavoured to memorize the fingerings for the notes, Tumnus had found these preliminary tasks ridiculously easy.
"I could learn to play the flute if I wanted to," the young Faun muttered to himself. He twirled the crocus between his fingers. "I just can't play in front of anyone. So what's the point of me trying?"
Tumnus pressed the flower between the pages of the book, and let his mind drift away.
A/N: The quote is from page 17 of the HarperCollins edition of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. The next chapter will be in the summer, but until then... Will Tumnus ever learn to play the flute? Who is this woman Limnus is talking about? And will our favourite Faun ever meet a nymph? I think you know the answers to these questions, but humour me with reviews!