Part Three of

Narnia: When Children Cry.

My first fanfic, 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.

And then we'll have a little Epilogue.

Disclaimer: I do not own Lucy or Tumnus or Narnia. I do own (sort of) Chrystmay the Dryad, who may or may not appear in Part Three.

Author's Note: I'm trying to get 100 reviews before the story ends. It's still a long way off, but please review, and I'll... I don't know. I'll give you all a Mr Tumnus that you can keep for yourself! How's that? And I'll give you Oreos! (Disclaimer: I don't own Oreos, either.)

IMPORTANT: Unless you're a fencer, you probably won't understand much of this chapter. It's been so long since I've written a fencing scene, I just couldn't resist. But, either because it will bore you, or because you won't understand it, you can skip the fencing parts in this way: stop reading at the row of asterisks (or stars, or whatever you wish to call them) and begin again at the second row further down the page. I promise, aside from the boring part in the middle, it's a pretty good chapter. Also very long.

Chapter Twenty

Twice Competing

Tumnus smiled as Lucy brought her sword down on Yuren, her usual fencing partner who hardly matched her skill. That is well, for Lucy had grown into a fierce swordsman in the practice ring.

'Hah! Touché!'she cried. She'd backed him into a corner and was holding the wooden sword at his throat. Tumnus laughed and thought of the real sword hidden back home in his den. Secretly, he'd had a dwarf create a strong rapier of the finest quality. He planned to present it to her as a Christmas gift. The holiday was little more than a month away.

It'd been a late autumn this year, and even in mid-November the leaves were coloured like the sun. The air was crisp and freshly brisk, but not uncomfortably cold. Tumnus reflected that Prince Corin stayed longer than any suitor ever had: one full month.

From seemingly far away, Lucy's laugh echoed emptily in Tumnus' bleak mind. 'I win again, Yuren!' she cried as he yielded his sword. Still laughing, she spun around and noticed for the first time Tumnus leaning on the railing of the practice ring. Their eyes connected, which had not happened in weeks; Lucy had barely acknowledged his existence since Prince Corin's arrival.

'Tumnus,' said Lucy, and if he'd been listening a bit more attentively, he would've noted the shocked whisper that escaped her mouth in a gasp. But, no matter how hard he was listening, I do not think he'd be able to understand the emotions in the outburst.

As they stared at each other, both were silent.

It was Lucy who broke the noiseless moment. 'Would – would you like to have a round with me?' It seemed the simplest thing in the world to ask at the moment.

She meant fencing, of course, and Tumnus stepped into the ring, grabbing a wood sword.

'No blows to the head,' said Lucy as he donned the padded equipment. She continued reciting the required rules for practice fencing. 'Three points above the waist, two for below, no knuckle hits–'

'No thrusting,' said Tumnus, interrupting her, 'double for sweeps and slashes, and penalty for both hands on the tang. Play to first yield or points to the time limit.'

Lucy gaped at him.

'I've fenced before.' Tumnus shrugged. What he didn't say was that he was quite good. And what they both knew was this: she was better.

They positioned themselves.

'Begin,' whispered Tumnus.

At first, they only circled each other, searching for weaknesses. She has excellent footwork, thought Tumnus. And perfect form! How am I to beat that?

Lucy noted his flawless posture and strong arm; the sword in his hand did not quiver while suspended, like most did. But he was not as sturdy on his legs, with them not being as supple as her own human ones. His hoofs also allowed little balance – she could use that to her advantage.

Tumnus attacked first. It was the simplest of moves: the Dagrius. Accordingly, Lucy countered it along with a swerve of the head, but they both drew knowledge from the second-long impact. Tumnus, as Lucy noticed, was quick-thinking and swift of blade. She bet he knew every move, their title, the counter, and the best move to follow it. He fought with his mind and precision.

Tumnus saw how Lucy fought: with her strength. She struck her blows like a hammer, but her movements were rough and vague. Her feet were fast, but her arms were not so much... she made up for that with sheer force. If he were to strike below the waist, he wouldn't gain as many points, but that would make her bear to one side and leave him a clear path to her side for a three-point blow.

Another attack came, but this one was from Lucy. It was another Dagrius, and Tumnus countered it almost boredly. If you were watching, you would see at once from their moves and expressions on their face what I must now write for you: this was not yet the match. It was only a game. Each knew the other could fence and fence well, but they tested one another in the simplest manner. Lucy smiled slyly, and Tumnus' eyebrows flickered upwards in a devious challenge.

That was where the games ended.

Tumnus lunged forward, aiming a blow to the shoulder, but Lucy quickly swung his blade to the side. There was a split second before she attacked that their eyes met. She struck only the sword, but Tumnus felt that it would not last for long. Her battle tactics were to take all the breath out of her opponent so he would be easier to defeat. She lifted her sword in a high swing, where it briefly met his. Then Tumnus aimed for a blow to the leg, but she caught him in a second before impact.

Once more they circled, feeling each other's defences. There was a sudden loud sound as Tumnus forced his blade forward, but Lucy blocked it with such strength that Tumnus almost lost his balance. He then began a move that he'd only ever used twice: the Thibault. With that move, he dug into Lucy's tactics and struck so hard that he was barely able to step out of it. That blow hit her sword with such force that she reeled back a whole two paces.

It was a peculiar thing that neither of them spoke in this match; it's common habit to hurtle insults and threats back and forth between opponents, but they both remained silent. Eyes spoke in the stead of words, and their actions allowed little room for breath enough to speak.

Neither of them had yet been hit.

But that was about to change.

Upon stumbling backwards, Lucy threw her strength forward and went straight into a broad butterfly-sweep that raked from one shoulder to the opposite hip. Tumnus winced, not in pain, but in knowledge that she'd won the first contact. (If they had been fighting with real blades, we'd call this 'first blood', and Lucy would have won. But, as you recall, they were only using wooden swords, and were playing to first yield, not blood.) Tumnus caught his wits quickly – quicker than Lucy had expected, so she was not prepared for this – and swung around using a back-handed slash. If Lucy hadn't been so surprised, she might have used a different counter, but she blocked it in a swing, thus crossing blades at the chest.

That is a move that hardly ever happens, and if you are the smaller, it's usually to your disadvantage and should get out of that as soon as possible. The faces of the opponents are only so close, with their weight being forced on their opponent. Lucy, the smaller, would have been at a loss in this position, had it not been for Tumnus' goat legs. They were far weaker than her own, and she could have easily used her own strength to force Tumnus down on his knees. But she didn't do that. She didn't do anything, and neither did Tumnus.

Their faces were inches apart.

For what seemed days – but was really seconds – they did not move, save for their heavily breathing chests. The only thing that either of them seemed to notice was each other's eyes.

Centimetres apart, and the space was shrinking –

'Bravo!' yelled a voice from outside the ring. Tumnus and Lucy both snapped their heads to see the person who had spoke.

'You're very good,' said Prince Corin to Tumnus, though he did not look at Tumnus at all. Pompously, he strode into the ring. 'Very good. But I think I could be better.' With that, Corin took the sword in Tumnus' hand and faced Lucy.

Lucy smiled and sighed, 'Corin, is there anything you can't do?'

A nonchalant shrug whisked over his shoulders, followed by a dashing grin. 'Win the heart of a Narnian Queen?'

Tumnus felt the insides of his stomach turn to lead as Lucy blushed. What he did not know then would be his ruin.

❦

As Tumnus stared blankly at his food that evening, he inwardly winced at Lucy and Corin exchanging secret glances and whispers. Each piece of food tasted bitterly sour, and every sound around him stabbed at him like minuscule needles.

From the moment Corin and Lucy left in the middle of dinner in the Great Hall, Tumnus wanted to leap up and cry, 'No!', but he could not. She was the Queen of Narnia, and he, a lowly faun of no importance, could do nothing to stop her actions. And then, everything became grey and bland. He could feel and see nothing until they returned, Lucy holding a hand to her giggling mouth, and Corin wearing a massive grin on his face. Tumnus needed to know what had just happened, but his curiosity was satisfied soon enough.

'Excuse me,' said Corin in a loud voice, tapping a dinner knife to his glass. All twenty people in attendance at the table went silent.

'I would like to announce,' Corin continued, 'that the Queen Lucy of Narnia has just accepted my marriage proposal.'

Ooh, I bet I'm really killing you. That's my second cliffie!

REVIEW...please? Remember, I'm trying to get 100.