Well, here it is: the final chapter. I would like to make a quick note, and an apology: this chapter is still relatively rough. I meant to edit it tonight, but I've finally caught the cold my whole family had over break, and I'm too doped up on sudafed at the moment to be a successful editor. We're leaving for vacation tomorrow; rather than put off the posting of this chapter another week I decided I would post it as-is. I believe I've caught most of the grammar errors, but I haven't done much in the way of toning up the writing itself. As such, you will find it is angsty and sappy beyond belief, something I (believe it or not) usually try to tone down in my revisions.

I apologize to those for whom this chapter is a disappointment in that regard; perhaps when I've returned from the medication-induced la-la land I've entered I'll post a revised version. But I rather wish to finish this up, so I can start on my next one (which will likely be a Tumnus x Lucy romance--I'll post warnings for those of you who are squicked by that, but be forewarned, yeah? Adult Lucy, by the way).

But I've chatted enough. On with the show. And thanks, as always, to all the reviewers. This story would likely not have seen completion without your support.

Chapter 7

It took Lucy nearly an hour to find Tumnus.

After asking around, she finally tracked him down, loading chainmail and weapons into the large carts which would transport them to the armory at Cair Paravel.

He was carrying a rather large armful of swords when she spotted him, and he didn't notice her right away; she waited until he had safely deposited the weapons, not wanting him to drop them or hurt himself, but as soon as he straightened his eyes fell upon her.

She had been expecting a smile, or perhaps a wave. What happened instead was such a stark contrast to her expectations it was startling: Tumnus abruptly paled, and his eyes widened with what could only be described as dismay. He leapt lightly from the cart, then dropped to one knee before her in a very low, very formal bow.

"Your Majesty," he said. "May I be of some assistance to you?"

Lucy gaped at him; she could not have been more shocked if he had slapped her. "Mr. Tumnus…what are you doing?"

He raised his eyes to her face briefly, then immediately looked down again. "I do not understand your question, Your Majesty," he replied, voice and features carefully blank.

Lucy was of two minds: part of her wanted to cry, because this was not the Tumnus she knew. But the other part of her—the part that had survived three older and often bossy siblings—suddenly grew quite stubborn. It was this part of her that won out. Scowling, she reached out and grabbed the faun's hand.

"Come with me," she said. "We need to talk."

It worked, a little bit—Tumnus was startled enough that he obeyed without question. She led him away from the other workers, into a little glade still in sight of the camp but secluded enough they would not be overheard.

Once there, she released his hand and stared at him, wondering what to do next. Tumnus, she could see, was going to be no help; he had lowered his head and was once again staring at the ground, though he was no longer bowing. She decided to take that as a good sign.

"Mr. Tumnus," she said, gently this time, and he glanced up at her. "Why are you acting this way?"

Tumnus swallowed, and looked down at his hands, clasped nervously in front of him. "I don't know what you mean, Your Majesty," he said softly, but it sounded unconvincing even to his own ears.

Lucy sighed in frustration. "Yes, you do," she said. "You're doing it right now. Since when am I 'Your Majesty' to you?"

He winced, eyes still lowered. "You should have been from the start," he said, sounding weary. "I have been too forward where Your Majesty is concerned."

She stamped her foot. "Do NOT call me that!"

Tumnus looked up, and for a brief moment he nearly smiled; Lucy could be quite a sight when she was angry, yet another skill acquired from growing up the youngest of four.

"Lucy," he said, softly, "you must understand. You are to be queen of Narnia. You must choose your friends more carefully. People will judge you by the company you keep."

Lucy tilted her head shrewdly. "And you think they'll judge me poorly if I choose to keep yours?"

Tumnus looked down. "Yes," he said simply, his voice small.

"And you honestly think I care?"

"You should care," he said, and now he sounded almost desperate. He stooped before her so they were at eye-level and grasped her shoulders. "As a queen of the realm, you should not risk damaging your reputation by associating with…wi-with…" He hesitated, and now that he was finally looking at her he seemed unable to look away. She wanted to cry at the sorrow reflected in his eyes.

"With?" she prompted softly after a long moment of silence.

"With spies," he finally finished, releasing her hands and turning to pace the little clearing. "With liars who are too cowardly to do what's right, who hide their heads and take blood money so they can live in comfort while the good are suffering!"

Lucy was stunned into silence by the self-deprecating tirade. And Tumnus seemed far from finished.

"Lucy," he pleaded, stopping before her once more, though he didn't touch her this time; instead, he stood wringing his hands nervously, "you must understand: I worked for Jadis. I wasn't just following general orders when I tried to kidnap you. She gave them specifically to me. I was in her pay!" he waved his hand helplessly. "Don't you see?" He said quietly. "I gave up everything—my honor, my integrity, my family's good name—because I was afraid. I was afraid of her! You should not care for me, Lucy Pevensie: I am a coward. You do not want to keep cowards as your friends." He swallowed, and his shoulders drooped. "They aren't worthy of you."

He collapsed onto a fallen log, and hid his face in his hands. He was visibly trembling, and although he did not weep, Lucy's heart was pierced as deeply as if he had.

She moved forward silently until she was right in front of him. He stilled, but did not look up; rather, he seemed to cringe, awaiting her decision.

"Maybe you're right," she said softly. "Maybe cowards aren't worthy of me."

He looked up at her slowly, and his face was a study in sorrow. For all that he had argued for her to come to this very conclusion, he had been hoping, deep down, that she would not—that she could forgive him, that she would put up a fight to keep him. But no. That was selfish. And foolish: why should she? What was he, really? Whatever he might feel for her, she had only known him for a few weeks. Her connection to him would break easily, and soon enough she would forget. And that was good, wasn't it? After all, she would be far better off without him. And by making her see that, he was, at least, finally doing the right thing.

He gave a small sigh, then nodded slowly and stood, bowing. "I am glad you understand," he said softly. "And now I must be going, Your Majesty." He turned from her, suddenly very, very tired, and began to walk away.

He had only taken three steps before her words stopped him once more: "Fortunately, Mr. Tumnus, I don't know any cowards."

Tumnus frowned, and turned to look at her, a question in his eyes. At the sight of her mischievous smile, a spark of hope flared in his chest, which he guarded with quiet caution. "What do you mean?" he whispered.

She moved forward and slid her hand into his; he did not pull it away, though his eyes drifted down to stare at their twined fingers.

"You see," Lucy continued quickly, taking advantage of having caught her friend off-guard, "a coward wouldn't have helped me escape when he knew it could mean his own death. A coward wouldn't have stood up to the white witch to try to protect someone he barely knew, just because he was my brother." Here Tumnus looked at her in surprise, and she smiled. "Edmund told me," she said. He gave a half-laugh, though it held no humor, and looked away.

She frowned, but continued doggedly forward: "And a coward," she said, and her voice cracked a little bit, "wouldn't charge into battle with no weapons or armor, to protect the things he believed in." She reached out and caught his other hand in hers, and gave them both a squeeze. "Whatever you still blame yourself for, Mr. Tumnus," she said, "I want you to stop it. Because I forgave you the moment you did it."

Tumnus was crying now—silent tears that slid down his face, unheeded—but he was smiling as well. He looked down at her, and for a long moment neither of them moved, unwilling to break the moment. Then he released a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and knelt before her once more, arms open.

Lucy launched herself into his arms, hugging him for all she was worth and laughing in relief and joy. He returned the embrace tightly; Lucy could feel his tears wet the shoulder of her dress. She smiled: if nothing else, they had now ruined an equal amount of one another's clothing.

The thought gave her an idea. Pulling back from the embrace, she reached into the pocket of her gown and pulled out the handkerchief Beaver had given her. She grinned, and pressed it into Tumnus' hand.

"I believe this is yours," she stated.

Despite himself, Tumnus laughed, and dabbed his face with a corner of the white cloth. Then he looked up, and used another corner to wipe at her cheeks as well. Lucy touched her face in surprise—she hadn't realized there had been tears on her cheeks.

"Right now, Lucy Pevensie," he said, "I think we could both use it."

He smiled at her, and she was relieved to see it was genuine, without the taint of guilt it had carried before. She smiled back happily.

"We'll share it, then," she compromised. "Though I hope it might be a while before we'll be needing it again. I'm quite tired of being sad."

Tumnus laughed, and rose to his hooves once more. "Wise words, Your Majesty," he said, bowing, and offered his arm.

Lucy took it. "I'm under strict orders to bring you back for some lunch," she told him, tugging him toward the table where she had left her siblings an hour earlier. "Susan says you didn't eat anything at breakfast, and only stared at your tea."

Tumnus laughed again, and shook his head, looking chagrined. "I am going to have to learn that nothing stays secret between you four, aren't I?"

Lucy grinned. "I'm afraid so," she agreed with mock solemnity, as she led him back toward the camp. "But don't worry. You'll catch on soon enough."

"Lucy?" Tumnus said, and for a moment his voice was once again serious.

She looked up at him. "Yes?"

He smiled slowly. "Thank you," he said simply.

Lucy smiled back. "You're welcome."

finis