Pronunciation, because this chapter has some odd names: Impera is im-pear-uh, Hetheon is het-hay-on, and Kelfiast is kell-fee-ast.

The very air was lush and golden in the thick of the Narnian Autumn about Cair Paravel. The sea practically glowed in the swirling mist, and the waves brushed gently against the stone cliffs rather than their usual crashing on the crags. All was quiet, save the gentlest of breezes and the murmur of sleepy conversation. And in the castle, a certain well-known faun was dozing in the council chambers.

"Here now, Tumnussssss," Impera said, slithering his way in. His voice echoed in the empty room, startling the faun into awakening. "I know counccccccil meetingssss can be dull, but generally people wait until they begin to start nodding off."

"Sorry," Mr. Tumnus said, giving the python a sheepish grin and rubbing his horns absently. "There's a sort of laze in the air today."

"It isssss mossst pleasssant," he agreed, flicking his tongue out to taste it once more. "The Animalssssss working in the far fieldssss have sssstruck up a dancccce and the palacccce sssservants are sssleeping in the usual nooksss. I do believe ssssome other faunssss are going ssssswimming with a few sssssoldierssss, later, should you wish to join them."

"I just might at that. Their majesties will be most pleased to find the castle in such good spirits when they return." He sat up straighter in his chair and gestured for the snake to sit across from him. Impera nodded graciously, coiling on the floor and raising his great head to rest on the table.

The heady sound of hooves clomping along the flagstones floated into the room. "That will be Orieusssss, naturally," Impera said, watching the door. "Sssssince Hetheon isssss away."

The general himself entered a moment later. "Ah," he said, tail swishing at the scene in front of him. "I'm early, I see."

"Indeed," Mr. Tumnus said, standing to shake his hand. "And it is good to see you, my friend. It has been too long."

"Yes, and how did your trip to Calormen go?"

"The twins were overjoyed to hear news of Narnia," he answered. "I believe they're going to be excellent rulers, and Calormen will be much, much better under their reign."

Orieus nodded and took his place next to Impera. "Hello, 'Poet," he said in greeting as Mr. Tumnus sat down again.

"Hello, Ssssoldier," the snake answered, a little stiff. Despite being on the same council, he did not know Orieus well. "We shall be with a limited counccccil today, I fear."

"Only natural," the centaur said with a shrug. "On a day this agreeable. Will Ytun be joining us?"

"I think ssssso….ah." The question answered itself as the dwarf ambled into the room at that moment. "Many Meetingsssss, Ytun."

"All the more." Ytun, usually gruff and quiet, was clearly just as affected by the wonderful day as everyone else—he actually smiled as he took the seat next to Mr. Tumnus. "Tumnus, General. Walk in the prints of the Lion."

"And to you—" Mr. Tumnus began, only to be cut off by a thundering set of footsteps and a wild, raucous laughter down the hall. A rosy-cheeked, very fair-haired, not-quite-Daughter-of-Eve burst through the doors and grinned like a girl gone mad at her fellow council members.

"Oh," she said, panting for breath and still giggling. "I was hoping I could beat Impera here this time."

"No ssssuch luck, Kelfiasssst."

"By the Lion, woman, what were you running from?" Ytun asked, very much alarmed by all the noise. He was unfamiliar with the former Terebinthian and her peculiar habits.

"My shadow!" She sent her musical laughter bouncing around the stone walls.

Primplefeather flew in from the window without a word and settled at the head of the table, a frown on her trim beak, ruffling her blue, black, and white feathers uncomfortably. She nodded to her fellows and preened her primaries, slightly out of place from her flight.

"Why, Prim," said Kelfiast. "Whatever could be the matter? You don't seem to be your usual self."

The large jay was silent was several long moments before giving a little shudder. When she did speak, it was slowly, hesitantly. "Something's…not right. Something isn't right with the wind."

"I was just outside, and it felt fine to me," Orieus said, his standard solemn frown deepening.

"No offense, General, but you're not a bird." She danced on the tabletop to calm her nerves. "Still, I suppose it could just be my imagination—"

All at once a horrendous scream rose up from Owl Wood, flooding the council chambers through the open window. Kelfiast shrieked in surprise and horror at the sound, her face paling and her hands flying to her ears. Mr. Tumnus rose, his usually cheerful face drawn in alarm. Orieus' hand jumped to the hilt of his sword, while Ytun had already drawn his blade. Primplefeather immediately took to the air again, shooting to the ceiling before Ytun had even touched his dagger. Impera coiled tightly, head tucked inside his rolls of scale, ready to spring in an instant. The scream went on for what seemed to be hours, and was followed by a hideous wailing that never ended.

And it was at that moment the final member of the tiny council, a dryad named Posy, burst into the chambers, her eyes wide with dread.

"Possssy," Impera said—being the only 'Poet in the bunch, he was the first to react to anything. "What hasss happened? What—"

"Gone," the dryad said in a whisper that was more like a whimper. "Gone, gone, gone!" With each word her voice rose to new decibels of panic until she, too, was shrieking her grief at the top of her lungs. "Gone are the Great Monarchs of the world! Gone, gone forever! Woe, Narnia, sing despair! The Kings and Queens are gone, and we are alone in a dark, cruel world!" Tears of dew drenched her flowery cheeks as she spoke, and her face twisted in anguish. "I go; my Sisters call me. Woe, Narnia, sing despair!"

"Wait!" the Python called; but it was too late. Posy became as wind in the flowers and blew out the window to join the near hurricane of petals forming outside of Cair Paravel. Wild shouts of cries of dismay and confusion were already rising from the halls.

"Gone?" Kelfiast shouted, voice shaking. "What did she mean gone?"

"Aslan's Mane," Prim breathed, "please don't say—"

"Prim," Mr. Tumnus said, his own voice strained and cracking. "Fly to the tower. Ring the alarum bells. Ytun, Orieus, to the training grounds. Your armies will probably be there already—" The three rushed to follow his orders. "Impera—"

But the snake was already out the door. "Gather the 'Poetssss and form a sssearch party. I know," he yelled from down the way.

Mr. Tumnus nodded once. "Kelfiast. Run. Run as fast as you can. Run to the dryads; I know you can catch up with them. Find one a little more coherent and bring her here."

The girl, shaking and lily-white, nodded and sprang for the door as the bells began to peal. Alone once more, the faun took a deep, steadying breath, closing his eyes. A smell reached his nostrils, marvelous and rich. Ice, cinnamon, blood, the sea at spring, green things growing, a new-forged sword still burning-hot. His eyes snapped open.

Aslan.

He whirled around and opened his mouth to speak, but the Lion beat him to the words. "Do not fear for your monarchs, Worthy Tumnus."

Mr. Tumnus drew a shuddering breath. "Aslan," he whispered, allowing only the Lion to know how shaken he was by the wild message. "What has happened?"

"They have returned home." Aslan cocked his big, golden head at the faun, smiling just slightly, as if in curiosity. "Surely you knew they could not stay here forever?"

"Spare Oom?" He gulped. "But…it's so far away…"

"As far as the stars."

"How shall they rule?"

"They shan't."

"What will happen to Narnia?" Mr. Tumnus whispered, broken, breathing fast and hard. "Great Jadis' Shade, we are lost."

"Nay, not lost. Never lost, not while I am with you," Aslan corrected gently. He walked over and pressed his head into the faun's stomach. Mr. Tumnus, moving automatically, began to run his hands through His great Mane. Calmed by the motion, the faun slowed his breathing and leaned on the Lion for support. "Narnia shall not fall."

"What will become of us, Aslan?" He sounded more steady, although heartbroken, and tears had started to form in his eyes. "Who will rule?"

"The Council will. I shall stay for a little while yet, while you are adapting."

"Adapting…"

"Fear not, dear Tumnus. You shall see them again, someday, long from now. All will be well." He stepped back and peered out the window, his tail twitching. "I must leave you—Cair Paravel is not to only place I am needed. Do not lose heart."

"I…" Mr. Tumnus swallowed. "I'll try."

The Lion smiled. "That is all I ask." He nodded once before turning and walking out the door. It was only then that Mr. Tumnus sank into his chair, put his head in his arms on the table, and wept.

Thank you Singer Sira (welcome, too, by the way; I don't recognize your name), Lucy of Narnia, and Bartholo for your reviews.

Well, I didn't make March, did I?

My deepest apologies for my extended absence. This time I truly never meant to leave, I promise you.

First of all, I am a senior in High School, and I graduate in May. In February, when last I updated anything, I was rudely reminded that I will be leaving soon by a stack of scholarship and college applications. For reasons not understood and definitely disliked, I...am not taking all this well. I don't know why—whether because I don't easily take to change or because I never wanted to grow up to begin with—but I have lived in nearly paralyzing fear of graduating since about this time last year. I don't mean a slight worry; I mean I, in all probability, should have looked into some counseling. It's been very secret—you all will be the first ones I've ever really told, because what can anyone do? I know it's not normal and possibly dangerous, but they can't do anything about it. It's still got to happen. In two weeks, in fact, so it's a bit late to be doing anything. So I've been meandering between slight depression and permanent terror for the last two months and haven't written a single word.

Second thing is kind of medical, but not really. I've been having very, very mild (as in, only noticeable once every other month) heart problems for five years now, but in the end of February and beginning of March it got much, much worse. After testing, however, the doctor couldn't really find anything wrong or unusual, and it went away—it was during Music Contest season, and the height of the Application Storm, so I believe it's brought on by overstress. It does kind of twinge when I think about graduating...

In short, I am a horrible person for leaving you guys hanging, and I am very sorry. I'm trying to ease myself back into writing now that I've settled down to just a sort of numb anxiety, and I will try to catch up on everything, but it will take time. Apparently I have to get my first job this summer, too... I'd greatly appreciate it if you kept me in your thoughts and prayers. And, now that I've info-dumped a horrible explanation to my absence up...I hope this chapter lived up to everyone's expectations?

Thank you all,

Feste 3