Thanks as always for the reviews! This chapter will be short, but the next should be up by tomorrow.
Chapter 4
Tumnus sprinted blindly through the camp, desperate to put as much space as possible between himself and the royal family. He knew he'd behaved poorly, and likely offended Susan as well, but he also knew he would not have been able to maintain what little was left of his composure, had he stayed much longer.
Oh, this was bad. This was very, very bad. Lucy, love him? The future queen, one of the saviors of Narnia itself, caring about…about…
It was all so wrong. So…backwards. Tumnus knew that much, at least. After all, what was he—who was he, to have earned the friendship of someone so grand? So pure?
But that was just the problem, wasn't it? He hadn't earned her friendship. He hadn't earned anything at all, yet somehow she didn't see that, didn't understand. And how could she? He hadn't exactly been completely honest with her.
"The white witch…she gave orders…"
His own words flitted through his mind, taunting him. Ah, yes, orders—and so she had. But she hadn't given them to just anyone, had she?
Tumnus staggered forward, not really watching where hw as going, nor heeding the strange looks he was receiving. All he knew was the desperate, blinding need to get away, quickly. The discomfort which had been born in him as he'd comforted Lucy earlier that morning had since grown to a crushing, mind-numbing guilt.
Unworthy.
The world resounded through his mind, taunting him.
He did not deserve her company; he had no business calling her friend, no right to love her as he did. Not after…not after what he'd done; what he'd been.
Tumnus rounded a corner and found himself on the edge of the wood surrounding the camp. A quick glance behind him revealed no one watching; quietly, he slipped through the trees, desperate for a few moments to himself. He walked until the sounds from the camp faded to the dull clink of armor and the faint murmur of voices, then stopped abruptly and began to pace.
What was he going to do?
He let out an involuntary whimper, pulling distractedly at his hair. He couldn't just run away, he knew that—Lucy would track him down, and besides, where would he go? Anyway, he didn't want to do that. It would hurt her, and that…that was the last thing Tumnus would ever want. He had done quite enough of that already in the short time they had known each other.
No, it wasn't going to be as simple as running and hiding. Not this time. And besides, that would be a cowardly thing to do, and Tumnus was through with being a coward. It was time he faced his problems, and did what was right.
What was right…
He sighed, and paused in his pacing, allowing his shoulders to slump dejectedly. He would confess to Lucy. Confront her, tell her the truth—all of it—and accept the exile which would surely follow. For he knew it would—even if she didn't say it outright, even if she stuttered and patted his shoulder awkwardly and said everything was forgiven, he would know. He would see it in her eyes—the disgust, the contempt. And then he could leave, and she would not follow, would not be hurt by his absence. It was the only way.
For a long moment he simply stood, staring blankly across the little clearing and waiting while the newly-shattered pieces of his heart locked themselves quietly away. He could not let himself be bothered by his own pain—he was not what was important now, and his pain would, after all, be for the best. Narnia would be much, much better off without him.
Numb but determined, he squared his shoulders bravely and began to slowly walk back toward the camp. There was, after all, work to be done, and Tumnus could make himself good for that much. At least until such time as he could speak with Lucy, tell her the truth, and finally face the consequences of his actions.
As he walked, he mulled miserably over his decision. Right. Yes, he would do what was right—he just wished what was right didn't have to be so hard.