AN: Yeah, more ripping off. Sorry. It'll get more and more original, I promise. But right now not much is changing. Christine seems to be so much like Lucy that I think not much would have changed. But what with….a certain person…playing the part of…a certain person….things will start to change a bit next chapter. I can't wait!

Disclaimer: See last chapter.

Coupling: Who knows?

THANKS SO MUCH Misty Breyer and MetalMyersJason! I was SO HAPPY so have reviews for this. Yes, MetalMyersJason, I'll be continuing this. Obviously. But the updates may be a little…not-so-often, with my most popular fanfic Isis reaching the more serious part of the story, and with having to update Canary more often since I'm forgetting more and more of the game. And thanks for the info on lamp-posts. Misty Breyer, I love Pride and Prejudice, too:) And I'm not sure if Erik likes Turkish Delight…guess we'll find out!

Anyway….enjoy!

When Christine woke up, it felt as though she had been asleep for hours. She glanced around her a moment, taking in the small, well-furnished cave, and then she remembered her adventure.

"Oh, dear!" she exclaimed as she sat up from the chair. "Oh, I must be going back! I only meant to stay a few minutes."

She frowned as she looked at Monsieur Tumnus, who sat in his chair with his hands covering his face. It sounded as though he were crying.

"Oh, it's no good now, you know," he said.

"What do you mean, 'no good'?" Christine said fearfully. "Whatever do you mean? I must go back at once – Erik will be frightfully worried about me! Oh, Monsieur Tumnus, whatever is the matter? Do tell me what is wrong."

But he continued sobbing as if his heart would break.

"Monsieur Tumnus! Do stop at once! What are you crying about? Aren't you well?" Christine asked.

"Oh-oh-oh!" sobbed Monsieur Tumnus. "No, I am not. I am crying because I am a very bad Faun!"

"I don't think you're a very bad Faun at all," said Christine. "In fact, I think you are a very nice Faun."

"Oh-oh-you wouldn't say that if you knew," replied Monsieur Tumnus. "No, I am a bad Faun. I don't suppose there was a worse Faun since the beginning of the world."

"What do you mean?" Christine asked. "You haven't done anything…have you?"

"My father would never have done a thing like this!" exclaimed the Faun. "That's his picture, there, on the mantelpiece."

Christine glanced over at the picture, then back at Monsieur Tumnus.

"It's a lovely picture. But please, please- a thing like what?"

"Like what I've done." He said. "Taken service under the White Witch. That's what I am. I am in the pay of the White Witch."

"But, please, who is she?"

"Who is she? Why, it is she who has all Narnia under her spell. It's she who makes it always winter. Always winter, and never Christmas. Think of that!"

"Oh, how awful!" Christine exclaimed. "But why would you help someone like that? What does she pay a good Faun like you for?"

"But that is just it. I am not good, not good at all." He began to sob again. In between his sobs, he spoke: "I'm a – a kid – kidnapper for her, that's what I – I am." He gained control of himself once more, and then tried to speak again:

"Look at me, Daughter of Eve. Would you believe that I am the sort of Faun to meet a poor, innocent woman in the woods, one that had never done me any harm, and pretend to be friendly with it, and invite it home, all for the sake of lulling it to sleep and then handing it over to the White Witch?"

"No, I do not think you would ever do something so-Oh!" she exclaimed as it dawned on her.

"Yes, you are the woman. I had orders from the White Witch that if ever I saw a Son of Adam or a Daughter of Eve in the wood, I was to catch them and hand them over to her. And you are the first I have ever met. And I have pretended to be your friend, and asked you to tea, and all this time I've been meaning to wait until you were asleep and then go and tell Her."

Christine panicked, and honestly, I couldn't blame her. Kidnapped again?

"Oh, but you cannot, Monsieur Tumnus! You won't, will you? Indeed, indeed, you really mustn't. Erik will be dreadfully upset! And Raoul-" her words died in her throat at the thought of her childhood sweetheart.

"Of course not." He said. "Of course I can't, I see that now. But-if she finds out, as I am certain she will…she'll have my tail cut off, and my horns sawn off, and my beard plucked out, and she'll wave her wand over my beautiful cloven hoofs and turn them into horrid solid hoofs like a wretched horse's. And – And if she is extra and specially angry at me, she'll turn me into stone and I shall be only a statue of a Faun until the four throne at Cair Paravel are filled – and goodness knows when that will happen, or whether it will ever happen at all."

Christine wanted to ask what Cair Paravel was, since the name sounded so pretty, but she had more pressing matters.

"I am terribly sorry, Monsieur Tumnus, I truly am, but you really must let me go back!"

"Of course I will. I hadn't known what Humans were like before I met you. Of course I can't give you up to the Witch, not now that I know you. But we must be off at once. I'll see you back to the lamp-post. I suppose you can find your own way back to…what was it? Eriksoom and War Drobe?"

Christine laughed lightly. "I'm certain that I can."

"We must go as quietly as we can," said Monsieur Tumnus, "The whole wood is full of her spies. Even some of the trees are on her side."

"Oh, my!" exclaimed Christine in shock. Monsieur Tumnus picked up his umbrella and was about to open the door when Christine placed a hand on his arm. "Wait a moment." She said. She reached into the sleeve of her dress and took out a handkerchief that Erik had given her. She glanced at the initial 'M' on the corner, but then offered it to the Faun. "First you must dry your face from the tears…or you'll be certain to freeze!"

The Faun accepted the handkerchief gratefully and wiped his face quickly. They then set out from his cave and into the snow. They journey back to the lamp-post was not at all like the journey to the cave; they walked as quickly as they could, and did not speak a word to each other. Monsieur Tumnus stuck to the darkest of places, so much so that Christine was almost grateful she had spent the last week under the Opera in darkness, or she would have surely lost her footing. She was, however, relived when they reached the lamp-post.

"Do you know your way from here, Daughter of Eve?"

Christine looked between the trees and was certain she could see the cloaks inside the wardrobe.

"Yes, I am certain I can." She said softly. "And please, do call me Christine."

"Alright." Said the Faun, nervously glancing about. "You ought to be on your way, as quickly as you can. And c-can you ever forgive me for what I was about to do?"

Christine smiled genuinely and her eyes sparkled. "Why, of course I can, Monsieur Tumnus. And I do hope you don't get into any trouble on my account."

The Faun nodded. "Well, farewell, Daughter of Eve – that is to say, Christine." He corrected himself. He lifted up her handkerchief. "Perhaps I may keep the handkerchief?"

Christine paused, and then nodded. "Why, of course you can. Farewell, Monsieur Tumnus." She gave a small curtsy then turned and began quickly walking for the wardrobe. And presently she felt, instead of rough branches, she felt the soft fabric of the cloaks, and instead of snow under her feet, she felt wooden boards, and all at once she found herself jumping out of the wardrobe into Erik's room. She glanced around, and then shut the wardrobe door tightly behind her, panting for breath. A moment later she heard Erik's voice.

"Christine?"

Of course! She had been gone for hours, he must have come back. He must be worried about her. But what would he say about her snooping about his private room?

It didn't matter now. She had to tell him about the Faun and Narnia and the fact that it was all in his wardrobe! She rushed for his door and opened it. Erik stood just in front of the door in his usual dress-suit which hung off his thin bones, holding several brightly-colored parcels.

"I'm here, I'm here! It's alright, Erik. I'm sorry I was gone so long."

Erik looked at her a moment, confused.

"I've only just come back, Christine. Where did you go? Why are you in my room? If you wanted to see it again, I could have shown you."

Christine frowned. "But I've been gone for hours and hours…you were gone that long?"

Erik looked worried now. He took a step closer to her and set down the parcels down onto the table. "Hours? Christine…I have only been gone an hour and thirty-five minutes…you cannot have been in there for that long."

Now Christine was terribly confused. How could he have only been gone that short amount of time? That was about the time she entered the wardrobe…surely he had lost track of time!

"But, Erik, that is impossible. I went into your wardrobe and was gone for hours…are you certain you have only just come back?"

Erik walked up to her until he took just a foot from her. He looked down into her blue eyes in concern. "In my…wardrobe?"

"Oh, yes!" Christine exclaimed. "I had forgotten to tell you. It isn't an ordinary wardrobe – didn't you know that?"

"What do you mean, Christine?" he paused. "…Are you feeling well?

"I am not ill, Erik! Come and see for yourself! There's a wood- and a Faun – and a Witch – oh, come see!" she opened the door and went back into Erik's room. Erik hesitated a moment, then followed her. She walked to the wardrobe and flung to doors open. "Go in and see, Erik!"

Erik looked at her, worried. He decided it was best to humor her, and stepped into his wardrobe. He pushed the coats aside and reached his hand out into the darkness, though he could already see the back of the wardrobe. He knocked on the solid wood, and then stepped back out.

"I am sorry, Christine…it is just a normal, ordinary wardrobe." He said. She must have been playing a game. …still, her eyes were tearing up and she rushed into the wardrobe, and then cried out when she knocked on the back of the wardrobe.

"Oh, it was right here! I promise it was!" she cried as she came out of the wardrobe.

"…of course it was, Christine." Erik said. "I believe you."

"Oh, no, you don't!" She rushed out of the room, and he could hear her door slam shut.

Erik sighed. Perhaps he had kept her underground with him too long. He'd have to take her back up to the surface once she left her room again.

Erik shut to door to the wardrobe and headed for the door. He paused a moment to glance back at it, then sighed and shut to door. He had one last meal to make for her.

RubyMoon's Secret Place

RubyMoon: Well, please review. They really brighten my day, and trust me; lately I REALLY need my days a little brighter. Please, no flames.