DISCLAIMER: Don't own Narnia or Lucy or Tumnus or anyone or anything in any way, shape, or form. Just thought I'd remind you.

Wow, I'm really turning into a procrastinator. Am I ever! But I hope I still have readers, because this is the most exciting part of the book. No, really. The last few chapters are by far the best, I think. After this one, I only have six left to write. Only six! Which means PLEASE don't give up on me just yet; I'm trying to get 200 reviews before I finish.

This chapter is really important. No, seriously. I'm dead serious. You've really got to read it. If you don't you'll be at a loss for the rest of your life. It's almost like the turning point of the story. So, please enjoy:

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Opening A Door

The thought wouldn't leave her mind, no matter how she attacked and tugged at it. She knew, with the rational part of her mind, that it was none of her business and a very silly thought indeed. But life wasn't all rationality. There was beauty in it, too. Thinking of Tumnus that day in the woods made her feel... different. Just different, in a way she couldn't quite put her finger on. Why should it matter so much to her that he was a faun, and she a human? He had just seemed so alive, living for that moment alone. What had he thought of when he lay there in the grass? And what made the deer all so drawn in to him, and not she? She was no better or worse in equality to Tumnus.

The thought occupied her head when she needed it for other matters, such as court business – patrolling the borders, Peter's giant hunts, a problem with some goblins up north, the ball...

Oh dear. The ball.

Why was it that royalty felt the need to throw so many balls? One for every birthday, title ceremony, coming-out-party, holiday, season... and then some. The Autumn Gold was the reason for this one, for the leaves were already beginning to turn a slight crimson.

Lucy smiled. Fall was her favourite season. It had such an air about it, a tense excitement, when the air was brisk and intense, while one was just comforted and quiet in their warm clothes. And it had a smell about it that she loved; a smell that was not quite like a storm, not quite like snow, and not quite like fire, but a mix of them all.

She rolled over on her bed and sighed, then stood up. Susan was prattling on about something. Bother. That meant Lucy would have to say something soon. Susan kept saying something about colour. What colour should it be? At least, that's what it sounded like.

'Orange,' said Lucy, after glancing about the room and spying an orange-peach bottle of perfume.

'Orange?' said Susan quizzically, with a sincerely perplexed expression sprawled across her face. 'Orange, Lu? Are you quite sure?'

'Oh, yes. Rhymes with door-hinge,' said Lucy absently, wondering what she'd just answered. 'Colour of... well, oranges. And cheese, and tiger lilies, and grapefruits, and autumn leaves – oh, Susan, autumn's already on its way. Can you believe it?'

'Hmm.' Susan frowned, the spoke to her lady maid, who promptly picked up a bundle of skirts on the bed and began straightening them.

'A sort of burnt orange with mahogany, if you don't mind me sayin', my lady,' said the maid. 'That would look quite nice.'

Susan shrugged. 'Lu, what do you think of that?'

'Hm. Very nice. Lovely.' said Lucy, flopping backwards onto the bed.

'Lucy?' Susan's voice was timid, a mite quiet. 'You know you can tell me anything, don't you?'

'Of course,' said Lucy, not really knowing what she'd just said.

Susan's furrowed, dainty brow became more prominent. 'What's wrong, Lu?'

Lucy leapt bolt upright. 'Whatever gave you the idea that something's wrong?'

The frown on Susan's face instantly melted into a brilliant grin and, giggling, sent her into hysterics. 'Oh!' she cried, wiping tears of mirth from those glittering eyes. 'Now I understand completely!'

Lucy grimaced horrifically. 'What on earth are you talking about?'

'Why, Lu, I had no idea you'd – Wait, don't tell me your don't even know!'

Through impatiently gritted teeth, Lucy growled, 'I'd be very keen to find out, Susan.'

'Lucy, if you don't even know it, I'm not sure of what I can tell you,' she chuckled. Then, at her sister's glare, took on a much softer approach. 'Lucy, you pay no attention to anything anyone says. You barely sleep, you hardly eat – just move the food around on your plate – you're so separate from all of us lately, you say you want an orange riding gown –'

'Oh, is that what all the fuss was about? A riding gown?'

'It's becoming quite clear to me now.' Then Susan smiled sweetly. 'So who is he? Is it that charming Solian boy from the South?'

'What on earth are you talking about? Solian looked like a red monkey that drank too much wine!'

'Lucy, anyone can see that you're in love.'

Lucy snorted. 'What? With that prat Prince Solian?' And yet in her mind, the thought sent a sharp jolt through her. No, it can't be...

'Not necessarily Solian.' Susan looked down. 'Is there someone else?'

Not possible... This can't be...

'No one at all, Susan. Sorry to disappoint you.'

How many secret glances had they shared across the room? How many times had she been too melancholy to continue, and there he'd been to mend the pain? They'd been through so much together... Lucy remembered with a twinge somewhere in the pit of her stomach the day Tumnus had nearly died. When she thought him dead, lying there on the battlefield...

And there, remembering him weak on the sick bed, she she'd crept out of her chambers just to spend the night beside him, feeling heat of his heart beside her. Just so he wouldn't be along on that night while the first winter snow dazzled the windows. She remembered the morning she awoke by his side feeling as though she was smoke or water. The feeling never fully went away and sometimes returned in its full, like when she ate the grass. It was the feeling of loss, of an empty gape in the heart, the death of a loved one.

A loved one.

I love him.

Was that the buzz of her skin every time their fingertips met while passing a cup of tea? What that why she felt like flying at each smile that flashed across his face? With him, she felt as though she didn't have to be Queen of Narnia or anything else but Lucy. Just her. There were no walls and no masks with him, just raw emotion and feeling. She'd say whatever she wanted to, and he thought none the less of her.

Her first true friend. Her best friend, who loved her unconditionally.

He was not bound to her friendship by family, and thus forced to care for her. She'd never felt so loved in her life when around him, and he gave it willingly.

But was it enough to love her as a friend?

'Lucy, I'm sorry,' Susan sighed. 'I suppose I was wrong; you're not in love. But tell me, please, if you ever are?'

Lucy smiled weakly, suddenly and painfully aware of her sister's presence. 'Sure.'

Susan let the small corners of her mouth curve down. 'Well, all right.' In a soft movement, she arose and left the room, gently closing the door behind.

As soon as she was gone, Lucy stepped from the bed and pulled open a mahogany drawer from her dresser. Under the bracelet Tumnus had given her so many years ago, the old storybooks they used to read, and the book they'd written when she was still a child...

There was the red scarf.

She'd never really returned it when he left it to her on that day, over ten years ago. The day before he disappeared. She'd kept it and relished it all these years, and he'd made a new one, so he'd never asked for it back.

With smooth, trembling hands, Lucy lifted it from the drawer and pressed it to her face, inhaling deeply. She could almost catch the scent of his skin and hair, mingled with the wise musk of old books and chamomile tea.

What makes a faun so different from a human?

And then, in the company of solitary emptiness, Lucy knelt, stumbling, to the floor and cried.