Note: I should be writing birthday mathoms, but I simply could not resist the temptation to try my hand at this pairing, too... Addictive stuff, that! 🙂
Had Tumnus actually thought inviting Lucy was a good idea? Silly, silly faun!
But when he had first told her about the fauns’ Midsummer dance all those years ago, shortly after the coronation, her eyes had lit up so beautifully that it had almost broken his heart to tell her that she was too young to come along. So when, in the summer after her 18th birthday, Queen Lucy summoned her oldest and best friend to inform him, with a wheedling smile that in no way hid her determination, that she planned to attend the festivities this year, Tumnus hadn’t been able to say no.
Which was why he was now standing at the edge of the Circle in the middle of the forest under a brilliant night sky, watching Lucy, his Lucy, his Queen, as she whirled around and around the fire with the nymphs, her laughter joining in with the fauns’ joyful piping, as if she was still a little girl and not Lucy the Valiant, Queen of Narnia. Except that Tumnus was all too aware of the fact that she hadn’t been a child in quite a while now. It was very evident now, too, because she had long since discarded her royal dress and was wearing only a thin white shift that left little to the imagination.
She looked breathtaking, and Tumnus had great problems even pretending to play his pipe, being much too busy scolding his treacherous heart and body. He was such a stupid faun, the most wretched creature to ever live in Narnia! This litany of self-reproach in the middle of all the joy and happiness around him would probably have continued for the rest of the night, but just then the reason for his misery stopped right in front of him and gave him one of her most lovely smiles: “Why so serious, my dear Mr. Tumnus? How can anyone be anything but extraordinarily happy here? This is the best night of my life, and I have you to thank for it!”
She leaned over and kissed him gently on his cheek, resting one hand lightly on his shoulder, reminding him that she was now the same height as he was. Tumnus felt himself blush and smile widely, hot pleasure raising every hair on his body. He gestured vaguely around him, at the nymphs dancing with abandon and the wildly playing fauns.
“I.. I wasn’t sure you would like it, my Queen. It is… a rather lively affair, not up to courtly standards, I’m afraid.”
This was of course a lie – he had known she would love it, that she wouldn’t be put off by the sounds and sights surrounding her. And he wanted her to be happy, to enjoy herself, dance as she never had before. But right now he just wanted her to keep standing still, at his side, touching him. He really was a horribly selfish faun!
Once again Lucy called him from his gloomy thoughts, laughing at what she considered his “snobbish ways”: “You never forget about this Royalty business, don’t you, dearest friend? Life at Cair Paravel has quite spoilt you! Still, you haven’t missed a single Midsummer dance ever since I’ve known you, don’t think I haven’t noticed…”
Her straightforward gaze made Tumnus blush again, reflections of the fire dancing in her eyes and catching in her hair, turning it a reddish gold. Tumnus swallowed hard. The couples that started to disappear into the forest together started to turn his thoughts into a very dangerous direction. Not that his brain needed a lot of encouragement lately. It was really such a bother!
“Well, yes, you are right -- I do enjoy these gatherings, every faun does. And I am glad you like it here, too!” He smiled a bit shyly, but soldiered on bravely, wanting to make sure she wouldn’t start to regret having come: “I enjoy giving you pleasure more than anything, my dear Queen Lucy.”
Lucy laughed again and offered him her hand, which he gladly took. “Oh, please, let us dispend with these formalities for tonight – let’s just be us, Lucy and her Tumnus! You are my Tumnus, aren’t you?”
The look she gave him, from beneath her eyelashes, he had seen before, on Queen Susan, when she dealt with a suitor that pleased her – but on Lucy, it was artless, genuine, and Tumnus felt sure his heart stopped for a moment before starting a mad gallop in his chest.
“Yes,” he managed hoarsely, fire spreading from where their fingers were entwined. The pipes were still playing, the dancers were still dancing, laughter filled the air, as did other noises, rising from the shadows of the trees to the twinkling stars and the full moon, and Tumnus felt as if he had entered another world. “Yes,” he repeated, letting his eyes roam over Lucy’s familiar form freely for the first time. “I have always been yours, my Qu.., Lucy.”
Once more her happy laughter filled his ears, the loveliest sound in the world to him. Then, without another word, she fearlessly led him away from the fire, into the shelter of the trees. And if there was another creature even half as happy as him in all of Narnia, Tumnus was not interested in knowing. Lucky, lucky faun!
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