A/N: Most of my author's notes for this story seem to contain apologies for not updating sooner, so I will not bore you with another one!

Disclaimer: This story was written for entertainment purposes only. And apparently, so were my disclaimers.

Year 1000, SPRING:

Epilogue

"Every moment the patches of green grew bigger and the patches of snow grew smaller. Every moment more and more of the trees shook off their robes of snow….Coming suddenly round a corner into a glade of silver birch trees Edmund saw the ground covered in all directions with little yellow flowers – celandines." – The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.

Tumnus inhaled deeply as he strolled through the woods, enjoying the sights and smells and the feel of a Narnian spring. It may have been because after a hundred years of winter his eyes were used to stark white vistas, but he could have sworn that the land looked greener than he had ever remembered.

The Faun paused by a stream to watch the clear water burble over slippery stones. The past century had changed him more than he had thought possible. His father, fighting side-by-side with scores of brave Narnians, had been killed early on during the resistance. Tumnus' childhood friend Girbius had shared the same fate. After the euphoria of restoring the monarchy at Cair Paravel had died down, the Narnians had mourned for old friends lost under the tyranny of the White Witch.

Tumnus lowered his head. The winter had taught him more than he had ever learned from books. Circumstances had dragged him from the quiet life that he loved so much, brought him into the shameful employ of the White Witch, only to have him go through horrors to protect that one shining light – dear, sweet little Lucy – and see Narnia as it was once again. Change had come, marking the beginning of a new age. The four Kings and Queens – the appearance of Aslan himself – being freed from the cold confines of stone – and of course, the wonderful dawning of the first spring in a hundred years. Tumnus had lived through things he had never imagined. He had grown up.

The Faun spotted a glade of silver birches and sat down in the cool shade, running his hand over the tops of the dainty yellow celandines that carpeted the ground. It was a quiet, peaceful place. He smiled and took out his father's flute, running his hands over the ancient instrument. During the winter he had never played it for joy.

His raised the flute to his lips, and began to play.

"Good morning."

Tumnus looked up, and then sprang to his feet in alarm – a Wood Nymph was standing before him, rubbing sleep from her eyes. And not just any Wood Nymph.

"Betula?" he gasped, scarcely daring to believe it. But it was unmistakeably her; she was wearing the pearl pendant he had found while treasure-seeking with the Red Dwarfs, so many years ago.

She stretched out her limbs, groaning as they let out a strange creaking sound. "I'm still a bit stiff," she admitted, touching her toes. "But it's finally spring! And what better way to start the season than to awake and find my dear friend playing his flute? You're much better than when I last heard you."

Tumnus gave a fleeting smile. "I've practiced," he said wryly.

"Well, I told you last time you were here that when you improved, you could come back and play as much as you pleased." Betula finally finished stretching, and shook out her long leafy hair. She gave a contented sigh, opened her eyes, and frowned.

"What is it?" asked Tumnus nervously, fidgeting with his tail.

Betula peered at him closely. "You look... different. And older." Her eyes widened. "You have a beard now!" The Dryad appeared to be thinking very hard, and then looked at the trees around her. "Why, I'm taller!" she exclaimed.

The Faun bit his lip. "It's been winter for a hundred years," he explained gently. "That's why I've had a lot of time to practice."

Betula's silvery eyes were very wide and very round. "A hundred...?"

"Yes," Tumnus confirmed. "So much has happened that I need to tell you about!"

"Clearly," said the Nymph.

They spent all day in conversation, sitting in Betula's grove, strolling among the trees, and dipping their feet in the stream. Tumnus noted that Betula was a very good audience. She did not interrupt, and acted shocked and nervous in all the right places. When Tumnus had finished the tale, the sun was setting, and they were back at the grove.

"If I didn't see that both of us have aged," said the Wood Nymph with twinkling eyes, "I would have thought you made this all up to trick me. Or amuse me."

"It's all true," said Tumnus, placing his hand over his heart. "Every word."

They stood for a moment in silence, reflecting on all that had happened to their dear country. Tumnus suddenly thought of something, and looked anxiously at his companion. What would she say? What if she just laughed at him? But the Faun decided that he would never know until he asked, and took a deep breath.

"The Fauns are having their first Midnight Dance tomorrow night," he said awkwardly, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Would you… um… like to come?" He quickly crossed his fingers behind his back.

Betula smiled, and fingered the pearl pendant hanging at her throat. "I'd be delighted."

The End.

A/N: Even the epilogue gets a quote! This is where I got the inspiration for Betula's grove. I'd always meant for her to be a silver birch tree nymph, and I happened upon this passage and immediately exploited it! It's from page 131 of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.

Having finally finished this story, this marks my official departure from the Narnian fandom. I've loved writing about everyone's favourite Faun, and offer huge thanks to everyone who reviewed my stories.