THE BIG QUESTION

As it is undoubtedly obvious, I support the idea of a Tumnus/Lucy relationship. This is how I imagine it might have gone when Tumnus officially worked up the nerve to "pop the question" to Lucy.

I meant for this to be a one-shot at first, but the story's taking longer to write than I'd imagined, so I decided to save you people the long wait (and save myself the headache), and break it up into three separate parts. You could say this is somewhat of a sequel to my story "I Surrender". Read and review, s'il vous plaît!

Story © unicorn-skydancer08

All rights reserved.

They always said that opposites attracted. Whoever had invented such a phrase in the first place, Tumnus could say he agreed with him—and wholeheartedly. He and Lucy Pevensie, also recognized as Queen Lucy the Valiant, one of the Four Monarchs who reigned over the realm of Narnia, were about as different as two individuals could possibly be. She was a human girl, commonly known as a Daughter of Eve in the world of Narnia; he was a faun, a creature of the forest that was a combination of man and wild goat, with a bit of stag mixed in.

From the waist up, he resembled a man—save for his ears, which were long and leaf-shaped, and for the two little horns that protruded from the crown of his head. Unlike a man, however, his legs bent in different directions, with different joints and muscles, and they were thick and bushy with an untamed mass of brown fur, streaked with blonde highlights. Rather than feet, Tumnus moved about on a pair on beautiful, glossy hooves that were cloven: split right down the middle, exactly like the hooves of a goat, or a deer.

Beyond that, Lucy was royalty, a person of high position and prestige. And Tumnus was nothing more than a humble commoner, who made his residence in a humble cave in the heart of the wilderness. Regardless of their differences (and not just the physical ones), they were the closest and the dearest of friends, never missing an opportunity to be with one another; and lately, Tumnus was beginning to see the Daughter of Eve with new eyes. Naturally, he was as warm and close-knit with her as he had ever been, since the day they first met at the old lamppost at Lantern Waste. But now, he was starting to see Lucy as the woman she truly was. He had always considered her beautiful, on the inside as well as the outside…but now, as an adult, she was truly gorgeous. Over the years that they had known each other, she seemed to have blossomed, like a flower emerging into full bloom.

To put it plainly, Tumnus found himself falling in love with her. Love, as in the pure, unreserved love that bound two individuals together, now and eternally; the love that ultimately led to a marriage, and, in time, a family. That was what Tumnus wanted, more than anything else in the world. He wanted Lucy entirely for his own.

He wanted her, and her alone, to have and to hold, as his beloved wife. He wanted to marry her, to lie with her, to love her, to grant her a child.

He wanted to stay with her for the rest of his life, and to die in her arms…or vice versa.

Never in all the faun's years of earthly existence had he longed, hoped, or prayed for anything more.

And so it was that one soft summer evening, during an exquisite dance party at Castle Cair Paravel, Tumnus intended to confront Lucy and ask her for her hand, right there and then. Not tomorrow, nor the next day, nor the day after that—but that very night. And if you thought Tumnus was nervous about doing this, you might as well have assumed that the Eastern Ocean was just a puddle, or that the mighty Northern Mountains were a mere string of pebbles.

He was absolutely petrified.

He was so afraid of her turning him down, of her laughing in his face. Beyond that, he feared to disgrace her in the midst of her company, to taint her reputation…to have her sink below her worth. As a queen of the realm, as a figure of nobility, Lucy deserved someone who shared the same noble status. She could have anyone she wanted, any gallant prince of some distant land, any knight in shining armor who would sweep her off her feet. He was just a simple faun. His kind were, as they put it, "a dime a dozen".

He knew that Lucy knew he cared deeply about her, that he would do anything for her, and that he would never hurt her or harm her in any way.

But would she be willing to accept his offering of marriage? What would she say? What would everyone else say? Tumnus was scared to find out.

Yet he knew he had to try. How was he ever to truly know for certain, unless he gave it an honest shot?

So, after he and Lucy had engaged in a slow and passionate dance together, and the music had reached a temporary recess and things were subdued for the time being, Tumnus asked Lucy if he could speak to her in private for a minute. To his delight, his hope, and his fear, Lucy readily agreed.

"Would it be all right if we took this outside?" he asked her. "In this way, we would have more peace and quiet, and no one else would find us out, or encroach upon us."

"Certainly, Tumnus," said Lucy obligingly. It was a warm night, after all, she figured. And she could most definitely use a break from the rather stifling world of royalty—a world of perfect manners and sophistication, of silks and satins, of endless discussions of this and that, and so on and so on.

Tumnus's heart was beating so loudly and so severely against his chest as he guided Lucy through the crowded room, toward one of the balconies that overlooked the sea, he was sure everyone could hear it. His legs were shaking so badly beneath him that he could barely walk.

Lucy could feel his hand perspiring considerably within hers, and her brows knit slightly with worry. Was Tumnus feeling all right?

He was acting a bit—odd, this evening.

Once they were outdoors, away from the crowds and the decorations and the overall festivities, Tumnus took a second or two to look Lucy over.

She looked nothing short of stunning, with her hair framing her face and spilling over her shoulders in silken waves of copper, with her delicate tiara of silver laurel leaves crowning her head, with her expensive gown of silver and gold and midnight blue embracing her feminine figure, and most especially with those bright brown eyes illuminating her lovely face. Ah, those eyes…perfectly almond-shaped, rimmed by long, perfect lashes, and always so warm and sweet and charming; they never failed to captivate Tumnus every time he gazed into them.

It had been her eyes that first attracted him to her in the very beginning, when she was but a small child.

At the same time, Lucy couldn't help noticing just how handsome Tumnus himself appeared, in the gentle white luminescence of the moon.

She had always thought of him as attractive, for a faun. But here, alone in the moonlight with him, with the stars and the sea enveloping them, she silently caught her breath at his comeliness, as if beholding him for the first time in her life. His wavy gold-brown hair trailed past his leaf-shaped ears and curled appealingly over his forehead, and the hair he sported on his face looked soft and inviting. Being a faun, his only article of clothing that night consisted of but a single scarf, but that scarf was the most lovely shade of green, and Lucy loved the way it draped casually over his bare shoulders. It made him look elegant yet stately at the same time, and it emphasized the honey streaks in his hair and goatee. And though it had been many years since that day at Lantern Waste, he was as youthful and strong and agile as ever before.

But it was his eyes that truly won Lucy over: bright china blue, and so warm and gentle, yet so intense and focused. Lucy had never seen such eyes.

They said the eyes were the windows to the soul, and that was indeed a most powerful truth.

Snapping herself out of her reverie, Lucy asked, "What did you wish to speak to me about, Tumnus?"

She spoke in a hushed voice, for although they were alone, and although they were outside, she hated to disrupt the lovely calm of the night by talking, at least very loudly.

Taking a deep breath, praying that he would have the strength to do this, Tumnus said, in the same hushed tone, "I have a gift for you, Lucy."

"But it's not even my birthday," she said, smiling somewhat lopsidedly at him. "Not for another three months, anyway. And Christmas isn't for another five months."

He smiled also at her rather poor attempt at humor. "I know," he said. "But this is a very special gift, and I didn't want to have to wait until your birthday, or until Christmas, to give it to you."

Tumnus's so-called "gift" turned out to be a stone. But this wasn't just any common stone. It was a moonstone: a beautiful milky white moonstone, about the size of Tumnus's palm, polished as smooth as glass. A soft blue shimmer moved across its face whenever it was moved in a certain way, mimicking the moon's glow, hence the name for the gem.

While moonstones were plentiful in the land of Narnia, fine gem-quality stones such as this one were quite rare. A moonstone was considered a lucky stone, and therefore held in very high esteem. It was also regarded as an ideal gift for lovers, as it allegedly aroused feelings of love and passion.

"Oh, it's beautiful!" Lucy breathed, as Tumnus presented the stone to her. "Where did you get this?"

"That, my dear Lucy, is a secret," Tumnus answered. As Lucy admired the stone, running her fingers ever so lightly over its flawless surface, the faun explained, "According to some recent research I have done, Lucy, when two people are in love, the male is to present the female with a special stone. From what I have read, the stone stands as a symbol of love, and fidelity."

He hesitated, drawing in a long, rattling breath, fighting to pull himself together; and, somehow, he managed to bring himself to say the words:

"And the male…presents the stone to the female…as an offering…an offering of marriage."

At the mention of the word "marriage", Lucy was so shocked that she nearly dropped the moonstone to the ground. Unsure of whether or not she'd heard Tumnus correctly, the young queen could only stare at the faun, and gasp disbelievingly, "What?"

Taking Lucy's hand in his own, Tumnus knelt at her feet, as one pleading for mercy, and gazed earnestly into her face.

"I love you, Lucy Pevensie," he declared solemnly. "I want to stay with you, for the rest of my life…and even beyond that."

"What…what are you saying, Tumnus?" Lucy practically spluttered.

"Marry me, Lucy." Tumnus hesitated but a brief moment before asking in a whisper, "Will you?"

For a full minute or so, Lucy was unable to speak, or move. Her entire body seemed to have frozen. Tumnus felt his heart sink at the dismay reflected in her face.

He knew he had caught her off-guard with his spontaneous proposal…yet, somehow, he had expected her reaction to be more positive than this. He had hoped she would be much more happy and thrilled about the whole affair. But from the way Lucy was looking at him, he might as well have asked her to throw herself off the balcony.

"Oh, Tumnus," Lucy stammered, when she had regained sufficient use of her tongue. "Tumnus, this is…this is…I…really, this is awfully sweet of you. No one has ever done this sort of thing for me before, and I do appreciate the gesture, indeed I do. But,"—Tumnus felt his heart plummet even further at the unpleasant three-letter word—"I don't know if I'm ready for this. And I'm not so sure about…about being wed to someone…well, someone like you."

As Tumnus slowly arose to his hooves again, knowing what he was hearing yet unable and unwilling to believe his ears, Lucy hastily attempted to reassure him.

"Don't get me wrong, Tumnus; you have always been there for me, and you're the nicest, most endearing friend anyone could ever ask for. And it's not like I don't want to be with you…but I…well, it's just that you are…and I am…we are both…everyone else would say…oh, how can I put this…"

Tumnus had heard enough. The message was clear, as plain as the broad daylight: Lucy was rejecting him. She didn't want him.

He had asked her to be his mate, his eternal companion, and her answer was no. He had given her his heart, and she was throwing it right back in his face.

It was as simple as that.

As Lucy babbled on, struggling desperately to string the right words together, Tumnus held a hand to her face for silence. "Say no more, Lucy," he said softly, his calm, quiet tone a stark contrast to the grief and the agony of his soul, to the burning humiliation that threatened to engulf him. "I understand you perfectly. And you are absolutely right. You are not some mere trophy, to be won. You deserve to be your own person, to be free and unbound. You should be at perfect liberty to make your own decisions, of your own will."

Bowing his head in submission, he continued, "I apologize for my misconduct, Lucy, and for my impulsive appeal. Forgive my insolence. I had only thought…somehow, I had harbored the hope that…oh, no matter. None of it matters, now. I shall go, and leave you in peace. And I shall never impose on you like that again. Forgive me, Lucy."

"Tumnus—" Lucy began, but he was already walking away from her, though his shoulders were stooped lower than usual, his head dipped toward his chest, and there was a definite falter in his step as he walked. Not once did Tumnus look back at her, and, within mere minutes, he was gone.