Chapter Three: The Wardrobe
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Lucy loved big houses and this house was very nearly the largest she had ever been in. Perhaps the largest. She left the sitting room behind and ran to the end of the hallway. She found herself at the top of a set of narrow stairs and trotted down, it was rather hot like most back stairs in the summertime. She opened the door at the bottom and found herself looking down another long hallway.
Something struck her. It wasn't a thing, it was a feeling, a strange feeling. She went to the end of the hallway, slowly, the floor creaking under her feet. There was a door at the end of the hallway and she reached out and turned the knob.
The door swung open, revealing an empty room. It was bitterly disappointing, because she had almost felt something, someone calling her and it was from that room. She stepped into it and she saw the rain creased window and a dead bluebottle on the sill. There was nothing else in the room. She still felt odd, but as she turned to leave, she saw the wardrobe.
It was in the corner, a tall dark wardrobe, gleaming and beautiful. As she approached the wardrobe, she saw intricate carvings on the door. The carving was of a tall graceful apple tree with a strange sort of bird in the topmost branches. At the base of the tree, looking up at it was a boy in knickerbockers from the turn of the century. Standing in the distance was a horse with wings and standing next to the horse was a girl about the same age as the boy. The knob of the wardrobe had a lion's head engraved on it.
Lucy had, by this time, completely forgotten about hiding and it was the farthest thing from her mind as she reached for the knob of the wardrobe and turned it. It stuck and for a moment she was afraid it would be locked, but finally it turned, the door opened and two mothballs dropped out with a soft pitter – patter onto the floor.
Lucy stepped cautiously into the wardrobe and let the door swing open behind her.
There were heavy fur coats in the wardrobe and she had a consuming desire to know what was behind them. There was a cold draft on her ankles and she looked down to see icy blue light filtering along the floor. She pushed through the coats and stopped.
Icy mist swirled around her, icicles hung from the roof of the wardrobe and in front of her was a deep snowdrift, looking blue in the light of the moon. There were trees, dark prickly things, in front of her and beyond them was mystery.
She stepped into the snow and sank up to her knees. It was bitterly cold and the snow glittered in the moonlight as if stars had somehow gotten trapped in it. She stumbled forward, pushing the trees aside, and found herself in an open place, in the center of which, casting a soft, warm glow, was a lamppost.
Lucy walked to it, looked up at it in wonderment and thought that was odd that there was lamppost in a wood.
"It wouldn't help anybody see, except me, perhaps."
After a moment, she decided to keep exploring. She saw a set of footprints leading away from the lamppost into the woods and began to follow them. They led her into the woods, winding through the darkness. Trees towered above her, black like paper cutouts before the moon. She stumbled in the darkness and her teeth began to chatter. It was bitterly cold. The cold that seems unbearably painful to breathe.
The woods ended abruptly and she looked over a meadow. The footsteps continued, blue shadows in the snow. To the right, the ground sloped up sharply and an unusually large bolder half protruded from the hill.
She followed the footsteps to the boulder, then found that they stopped abruptly. She looked up the boulder, then scrambled up the various crevices until she was standing at the top of it. The whole countryside opened up before her. There were mountains, the like of which she had only seen in pictures of Scotland and Ireland. There were smaller rolling hills and deep cold valleys and thick dark woods. The land seemed to stretch forever in all directions without a light or a sign of life in sight.
Lucy looked down quickly. It seemed almost like someone had slammed a door directly below her. There was merry whistling of a tune she had never heard. She scampered forward and looked over the edge of the boulder to see where the noise was coming from. A small sort of person with curly black hair and a red scarf tied around his neck was just turning around the side of the boulder. Lucy's eyes widened. The strange person had goat's legs instead of human legs and two curling ram's horns stuck out of his black hair.
"Hello," Lucy called, "who are you?"
The person looked up that her and stared for a moment, his eyes going wide and his face going pale. Then he reached up, touched her hand where it clutched the boulder, and started backwards.
"You're human?" his voice ended in a startled squeak.
"Of course I'm a human," Lucy swung her legs over the edge and started to scramble down, "what are you?"
"I –I'm a faun…" he said, then grabbed her hand. "Come inside!"
He pushed her through the door of his house. She wondered why she hadn't noticed it before. The Faun stared out the door for a moment, then closed it.
The faun's house was in the boulder- or behind it. It was warm, small and neat and there was a fire roaring in the hearth. There were deep armchairs in front of the fire and Lucy settled herself in one, still shivering uncontrollably.
"You can probably imagine my surprise to see a human here Narnia," the faun said, coming towards her. "How did you get in?"
"I walked through a door and found myself here…Narnia?" Lucy said the name slowly, "I've never heard of Narnia…are we still in England?"
"Ingle...land?"The faun asked, a puzzled look on his face. "Is it in a proximity to Calormen?"
"No," Lucy said, and then a thought struck her. "I think it was magic…there aren't any people like you in our world…or any countries called Calormen or Narnia…you see I had just been in the spare room when I went into the wardrobe and found myself here."
"You are from the world of Ingle Land, the city of Spare Oom and the Castle of War Drobe?" The faun asked wonderingly, "Is that correct?"
"Sort of," Lucy laughed.
"Daughter of Eve…" the faun started to say.
"My mother's name isn't Eve, its Miriam and my name is Lucy." Lucy said, "What's your name?"
"Tumnus," the faun said, "you look dreadfully cold. Would you like sugar and cream in your tea?"
"Yes please," Lucy said, "I'm very pleased to meet you Mr. Tumnus!"
The faun handed her a teacup and she took it. The tea was unlike anything that she had ever tasted, in fact, it didn't really taste like tea at all, though it was very strong and sweet.
"Are there more of you around?" Tumnus asked nervously sitting in the chair next to her.
"More of me?" Lucy asked. "Oh no, but I do have two brothers and a sister and a cousin named Eustace. You can come meet them if you'd like. I think you might like them, actually."
"Oh," the faun said.
"It's so cold here," Lucy said, "But it must be lovely in the summertime."
"Summertime, yes," the faun looked pained, "It wasn't always winter here in Narnia."
"Whatever do you mean?" Lucy asked. "It is always winter?"
"Yes, now." The faun glanced at the door nervously.
"Well," Lucy said, brightening up, "At least you can have Christmas as often as you like."
"Don't even say that word!" the faun exclaimed, leaping up.
"Why not?" Lucy asked.
"It's –it's not allowed," the Tumnus said lamely, "We don't celebrate it anymore."
"Why ever not?" Lucy asked.
"Because-because she doesn't like it…" he trailed off. "I say," he said, fumbling at a little leather case, "Have you ever heard Twilight Whisper?"
"No," Lucy said, "what is it?"
The faun pulled out his flute from a little leather case. It was not one flute, but two, joined at the mouthpiece. It was a beautiful thing, Lucy stared at it in amazement, it was made of polished wood and there were designs of leaves curling down the length of it.
Mr. Tumnus put the flute to his lips and played a tune, soft and beautiful, it curled up Lucy's legs, around her arms and shut her eyelids. She was asleep.
A/N. So what do you think so far? Shall I continue?