Narnia:

When Children Cry

My first phanphic, so be merciful, I beg of you!

SUMMARY:

Part One: Basically, Tumnus' story of his friendship with Lucy.

Part Two: Their friendship after Lucy becomes Queen Lucy the Valiant of Narnia.

Part Three: Lucy and Tumnus reunite many years later, and how their friendship progresses into love.

(Part One does, by the way, end with this very chapter.)

Disclaimer (and author's note): I don't think I truly own anything in this chapter. I own not Tumnus nor Lucy, nor even my own plot-line. I gain the latter in parts two and three, to be coming quite shortly. I would say that I am merely a phanphiction hobo, but there seemed to be somewhat of a disagreement on that. I most deeply apologise to those of you who have commented on that, but I got too drawn up in the fanfiction lingo and was so profoundly in the habit of spelling things with 'ph' (I was indeed a Phantom author, but that piece of work was erased long ago) that I'd only continued the habit. Thank you most kindly to those who were so avidly aware to that mistake. I'll attempt to correct my erring in previous chapters, but for the moment I'm far too laggard to fix them immediately.

Also: To anyone who's noticed my strangely formal style of writing, I'm not just putting it on. I do write like this, and I am sorry if it bothers you.

And now, on with the tale!

Chapter Eleven

What Happened When Lucy Cried

Tumnus selected a book from the shelf and pulled it out, blowing dust off the cover. The guest room in Cair Paravel where he was currently residing was directly next to the library (Lucy had made sure of that), so he would meander over in the mornings to read the day to nightfall. But not to-night. No, certainly not to-night. Lucy's coronation was that very evening, and he had to be sure to attend.

The book he'd selected was of Narnian history. Tumnus smiled as he opened the solemn leather cover and inhaled the sweet scent of words on a page. Each phrase was absorbed into his mind as he sank in a soft chair, seemingly unaware of his action. With avid hunger, he took in the literature spread out before him of how Narnia was created: Aslan the great Lion had opened his mouth and conjured that beautiful land with a song. However, the book also mentioned the not-so-fascinating theory that this was all rubbish, and that there was no Aslan.

'Fools,' whispered Tumnus, smiling to himself. 'Of course there's an Aslan.'

'– And I appreciate your loyalty, Tumnus,' said Aslan, padding into the library and making Tumnus jump in his chair. 'But one should not judge others by their ignorance. It is all they've been taught; thus, they are not at fault for this distrust.'

'Aslan, sir,' breathed Tumnus, but the Lion was not deterred from speech.

'It is only when they know Me and do not believe that they find themselves at fault.'

'Please sir,' Tumnus interrupted. 'There haven't been many – er – opportunities for anyone to really know you.'

'Young faun,' Aslan said, with what have been a sigh. 'It is not I who needs to be present for them to meet me. They must be present to themselves,' Aslan turned his penetrating gaze to Tumnus and seemed to look right into his soul 'and they shall find Me there.'

It was so very frightening for Tumnus to hold intense eye contact with the Lion that it took all of his breath to say, 'Aslan, I don't understand.'

'You will, Tumnus.' On that note, Aslan turned and silently strode toward the door. But before he left, Aslan turned around to stare at Tumnus with a softer gaze than the previous. 'The Daughter of Eve is to be crowned to-night, young faun.'

It seemed to Tumnus that there was nothing to say. Aslan undoubtedly would know by the expression on the faun's face that he'd been worrying about that for quite some time. How was he to act, now that Lucy was to be Queen? Was he to be properly respectful, and would it be proper for them to be on such casual terms with one another?

'Know, Tumnus, that, being Queen, she'll be ruler of more people than she could ever want. But she'll be in more need of a truly loyal friend than of another loyal subject.' Without another word, Aslan exited the room, leaving Tumnus with a boxful of questions.

❦

Preparing for the coronation proved to be more trouble than it seemed. Not one of the men's court garments were tailored for fauns, and to wear clothes made for men or dwarfs looked simply ridiculous on him. Mrs Beaver, who had also taken up temporary residence at Cair Paravel as Royal Seamstress had exclaimed, 'But haven't you something presentable to wear at your own home?'

Tumnus had recently visited his den before coming to abidance at the Castle on the Eastern Sea, and was aghast to the total destruction of his home. All of the interior and exterior had been left in utter ruins, so he knew that there surely was not a shred of apparel remaining. It seemed that the only thing he had to don himself with was his familiar red muffler. This, of course, was thoroughly washed by Mrs Beaver to the point of near flawlessness. And as he tossed the crimson scarf round his neck, he hoped that maybe – just maybe – that Lucy would prefer it that way; that he would be just the same and remain unchanged by her royalty.

The coronation itself was considerably less formal than Tumnus had dreaded (it undoubtedly had something to do with the fact that a great deal of the guests were Talking Beasts, and thus unclothed). It was only when the Kings and Queens of Narnia emerged from behind the great dais in the throne room that Tumnus felt as though he should have worn something a bit more appropriate.

For there was Lucy, standing like a true queen in her royal gown. She was absolutely the most beautiful thing Tumnus had ever seen, but we would never understand it. No, not the modern race on Man. For everything about that day was beautiful and old.

That coronation was possibly the farthest thing from what we would expect today. If someone were to be crowned now, there would be such an ever long service filled to the brim with long prayers and chants and hymns. Never in Narnia. They knew then, that being crowned was a joyous occasion, not to be polluted with solemnity. It was quite simplified and short; each of the young humans took individually their vows and stood by their great thrones. Then they all turned in unison to face the east, (which was also facing the audience) and the room rang out in joyous voices, 'Long Live King Peter! Long Live Queen Susan! Long Live King Edmund! Long Live Queen Lucy!' and as Tumnus looked on the sweet face of Queen Lucy (who'd just been presented with a lovely silver circlet-crown) he could not hold back the most beautiful feel of pride at the sight. The young faun smiled, insensible to the jubilant tears trickling down his face. And there came Aslan in all his splendour to rumble in wise words:

'One a king or queen in Narnia, always a king or queen in Narnia. Bear it well, Sons of Adam! Bear it well, Daughters of Eve!' If you were standing in the Throne Room at that very moment, you could taste the almost tangible awe in utter silence growing throughout the chamber.

The following celebration was not more than an absolutely delicious supper and ball. Tumnus sat beside the shopkeeper, Ankney (you may read more about him in a previous chapter) and was so delighted that the dwarf's formerly icy demeanor had melted with spring that he hardly noticed Lucy slip out the side door. But there was she, in the very corner of his vision – and there was he, excusing himself from his conversation with Ankney to follow her.

Lucy was perched on the carved railing of a balcony and staring out at something or other. Tumnus, about to ask her why she wasn't at the ball, stopped as he saw a golden figure padding along the beach below. It was, of course, the Lion Aslan, and he was treading onward to the westward sunset. Tumnus cautiously stepped forth to lean on the balcony beside her. The two silently watched his footprints in the wet sand until they, like the form they represented, vanished into the distance. Lucy turned around to face Tumnus. 'Why did he have to leave?' Her friend answered not, but knelt down to her eye level and took her hand.

'Don't worry.' Tumnus gave Lucy's tiny hand a reassuring squeeze. 'He'll come back. Someday.'

Lucy's lower lip quivered and soon erupted into a face like crumpled satin. She buried her face in the faun's shoulder, sobbing in completely childlike sadness

This was the first time Tumnus had ever seen Lucy cry.

Totally unaware of his actions, he stroked the little girl's hair, repeatedly whispering 'Ssh. It'll be all right.' In the hidden world within him, however, it was all confusion: Lucy. Crying. You remember that Tumnus could never ever live through such a sadness when just any child wept; yet this child, his (dare he think it?) dearest friend, had for the first time cried in the presence of Tumnus.

Tumnus was petrified. It was he who first shed tears to Lucy, but she was now repeating the action. What right did sadness have to dwell in Lucy's heart? Why should she, an innocent child, be inflicted with the burden of tears? Yet in his necessity to comfort the girl, he could not help but have a deep sense of entrancement of her. There was something peculiar in her tears that was not uncanny, but enchanting. She was not a simple child. Nor was it that she was a queen. Something about Lucy was different: special, even. Lucy had been with him in his hour of need, the one time he'd cried before a child, when he was drowning in guilt.

And now he, Tumnus, was to return the favour and comfort her in his stead.

'There now,' said Tumnus, conjuring the handkerchief from his pocket. 'Don't be sad, Lucy.'

The little girl looked directly into his eyes, and Tumnus felt a surge run through him. 'He will come back,' said Lucy, although it was really a question as opposed to a statement. Tumnus answered with the only right response to such a thing:

'He'll do what he sees to be right. After all,' said Tumnus, a smile forming on his face. 'it's not as though he were a tame lion.'

❦ END OF PART ONE ❦