A/N: This so-called "epilogue" is chapter-length. Blame my muse. Sometimes, she just doesn't know when to shut up… Before we continue with the story, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed. You are all Very Cool People, and deserve more gratitude than I can put in my replies.

Disclaimer: I hate writing these. Suffice to say, I write about Narnia for entertainment purposes only – But if you really do want to pay me, all cheques can be made out to "Sanaryelle"!

Epilogue…

in which Tumnus Refines the Noble Art of Babbling, and becomes Happy Again.

Mr. Tumnus plucked blackberries from the bushes, dropping the squishy fruit into his basket with purple-stained fingers. Every so often he would heave a deep sigh, and stare at the hillock that rose through the trees a short distance away. It was the very place where he had seen the White Stag not even a year ago. Most unfortunate that a spot associated with bad memories stood so close to the best blackberry bushes in Western Narnia.

"Tumnus."

The Faun gave a loud yelp and jumped backwards – right into the spiny bushes. He gave a second, louder yelp, and scrambled hastily out of the prickles, stepping into the fallen berry basket in his hurry. Sticky purple mush coated his leg over the pastern, but he barely noticed.

Tumnus gulped once or twice, his brown eyes huge. "As – As – Aslan?" he stammered.

The lion smiled.

"Aslan! Why have you come?" Tumnus cried. "Oh – I suppose it is because of what happened last autumn, is it not?"

Aslan merely looked at him, gaze tender and mild.

"I cannot forgive myself, ever", the Faun babbled on. "I mean, I told the Kings and Queens about the White Stag! Me! But… but I expect they would have found out about it, anyway… And I suppose they still would have hunted it themselves, what with the stag not being spotted for over a hundred years…"

The lion cocked his golden head to one side, dark eyes gleaming.

"But why did they have to leave, Aslan?" Tumnus demanded. "Although – I suspect you had something to do with it. Because of you did not want them to leave, they wouldn't have, correct? And that means it really was their time to leave, wasn't it?"

If Tumnus had been paying more attention, he would have noticed the amused sparkle in Aslan's eyes.

"So if it was their time, I suppose there was nothing I could have done about it anyway", prattled the Faun. "Besides, Spare Oom is their world just as Narnia is mine. They belong there, really, and I suppose I always knew deep in my heart that they had to return someday." Tumnus' voice was quivering with emotion. "I had only hoped, Aslan, that they could have stayed here forever. Narnia flourished under their rule, and only now has it been restored to its former glory…" The Faun's brown eyes widened in sudden realization. "That was their mission", he gasped, "To save Narnia and fulfill the prophecy! And now they have, so they can go home!"

The lion smiled. "I see that you need no words from me", he declared, resonant voice thrumming through Tumnus' very bones.

"Actually", whispered the Faun, suddenly remembering his place, and more than a little ashamed of blathering on in front of Aslan of all people. "I do have one little question…"

"Yes, they will return", Aslan said kindly, "But not in your time. That is not your story."

The Faun lowered his curly head, and several round tears dripped off the end of his nose. He suddenly frowned when he saw that his hoof was covered in blackberry pulp. "Bother", he muttered, trying to extricate it from the mess that had once been a serviceable basket.

"Have faith", he heard the lion say, "And you will see her once more."

Tumnus looked up, but Aslan had gone. The Faun bit his lip as he pondered what the lion had just said, and a slow smile spread over his features. Peter, Susan, Edmund, and dear Lucy were back where they belonged. Why should he be sad? And Aslan had told him that he would see Lucy again! He had no idea what that was all about, but if Aslan said something you had better well believe it.

Feeling happier than he had ever felt since autumn, Tumnus wrenched the mangled remains of the basket from his hoof and set off back to his little cave, whistling a merry tune.

End.

A/N: He's happy, all right? Happy! So you don't have to scoop him up in your arms and comfort him – that's my job! ;) Also, I think Tumnus has had enough sadness in this story; the poor guy deserves some joy after all of that.

On a more normal note, thanks so much for reading this story. I welcome reviews of all shapes and sizes; they delight me far more than any little email should. And thanks also for enduring my Author's Notes and Disclaimers!

-Sanaryelle