Disclaimer: All rights belong to Disney and C.S. Lewis and probably some other's too. Well, not me, is the point. Only the story is mine. Also, the excerpted text below is not mine, although I could not find the author. If it is yours, please let me know and I will credit you/remove it (if you'd like).

Author's Note: So, a few problems I had with this. First, I know that a lot of people have problems with sexuality existing in Narnia. Tough. There is sex, or else there wouldn't be people native to the land. Secondly, I don't know if there will be any sex between Lucy and Tumnus...I haven't exactly figured out the mechanics of that. Third, C.S. Lewis didn't pay a lot of attention to distances in Narnia. Here's an excerpt from a post I found on Google that sums up the problem:

"It took Aslan traveling as fast as a racehorse at top speed a couple hours to make the journey from the Stone Table to Jadis castle (100 miles?), yet the children with the Beavers were able to walk most of this distance in a day and a quarter, with plenty of rest (a fast walking speed is about 4 miles per hour). The distance from the Beavers dam to the White Witches home couldn't have been more then five miles or Edmund couldn't of walked this distance in the cold conditions as discribed in LWW without giving up or freezing to death."

So I just made it up mostly.

This Desperate Youth

The first time Lucy kissed Tumnus she was 14 years old. It was during a tour for the Grand Vizier of Calormen, in one of the ornamental gardens at Caer Paravel. Lucy fell back to the end of the little procession wending its way through the castle and Tumnus, ever attentive to her prescense,excused himself from the chattering Mouse he was escorting and came to her side.

"Your Majesty appears to have been left behind," he said as he fell into step beside her. She nodded noncomittally and took his arm, leaning her head against his shoulder. They walked along the shaded paths of the garden, passing clumps of exotic flowers mixed in with common herbs. An enticing mix of the familiar and the unfamiliar, thought Lucy, and realized that she meant not only the garden, but the whole situation. Since she had come to Narnia, all those years ago, she had often held the arm of dear Mr. Tumnus and walked along the beach or in the forest. But today was different.

It had begun the week before, when, in preparation for the arrival of the Grand Vizier, Susan had commissioned new state clothes for Edmund, who had sprung up nearly half a foot over the winter. In the course of the fittings, the modiste mentioned that the fitted sleeve and empress bustline were sweeping courts throughout the Lone Islands and Susan, realizing that there wasn't enough time to have an entire wardrobe made up before the following Tuesday, settled for having several of Lucy's and her gowns altered.

When the modiste began the alterations on Lucy's gowns, however, she and Susan were scandalized to discover that Lucy had quite outgrown the bodices of most of her dresses without mentioning it to anyone.

"Yes, well, I thought they were feeling a little tight across the chest," she murmured when Susan confronted her about it. Proper undergarments were commissioned immediately, as were two new court gowns, three morning dresses, a ball gown, a walking dress, and a riding habit. Another seamstress and a small flotilla of Talking Mice, with their small, clever hands, were brought in to rush the new clothes to completion, as well as to alter any existing garments. Susan refused to speak to Lucy, except to give her long, angry speeches about nearly disgracing the entire family in front of the whole court, which suited Lucy just fine because she had worries of her own to consider.

It had not escaped her attention that her body was developing. In a realm like Narnia, were more than half the population was comprised of Animals, the facts of life were inescapable. Animals, unlike humans, were fairly open about sex and nudity, and although most of their reproductive organs were conveniently covered by fur, secondary organs were rarely accorded such modesty. Centaur women, for instance, went bare-breasted all the time, except at state functions, and nymphs and water sprites never wore clothes. But it wasn't just her breasts that were developing. For some weeks now she had begun to see things in a different light.

She watched a dryad smile coyly at Peter, saw him flirt back and understood for the first time the purpose of their actions. She saw a stable boy sneak a kiss with one of the kitchen maids, saw the girl's face flush with delight and surprise and something else and yearned to feel it herself, to know what the unnamed emotion on both their faces was. The pivotal moment came the Thursday before the minister was to arrive, when a particularly fierce storm had blown through the Great Forest. Lucy was on a rather idle search for fragrant herbs to plant in the kitchen garden when she came upon Mr. Tumnus helping to clear a snarl of trees that had fallen across the path.

He was working with a Water Rat, a few of the Badgers and an an assortment of fauns who were constantly being distracted by a group of wood nymphs lingering at the edge of the tree line. Someone was playing a pan pipe and the tone was one of merriment, a rejoicing at what was surely the last gasp of winter as spring moved in. Half of an enormous tree was being hewn apart into manageable chunks and pulled off the path. Mr. Tumnus was carrying logs to stack on the side of the path and between the heat of the sun and the extent of his physical exertions there was a sheen of sweat covering the muscles of his chest, arms, and back. Watching him this way, laughing and flirting with the nymphs and completely unaware of her felt new and intimate to Lucy. She realized suddenly that he wasn't wearing a scarf and also that she had never before seen him without one.

She would have liked to go on watching him, but he suddenly turned his head toward her, catching the sun in his golden hair, and smiled. Her breath caught in her chest and she felt strangely warm all over and even as her lips began to turn up in an answering smile she thought, Beautiful. She had ridden up to them, then, and offered her horse to help haul away the remainder of the trunk. While Mr. Beaver and one of the more serious minded Fauns bickered good naturedly over the best way to hitch the horse to the tree, Mr. Tumnus trotted up to Lucy with his arms still full of logs.

"Good morning, you majesty," he said with another brilliant smile. His eyes were bright and his cheeks flushed from carrying logs and stripping branches for the better part of four hours and Lucy thought he had never looked so very Faun-like as he did then, primal and robust and something else, something else that called up in her mind the image of the stable boy and the kitchen maid. Lucy suddenly realized she had been staring for some moments and managed a half-hearted smile.

"I am sorry, Mr. Tumnus, my mind was wandering. A good morning to you, and a very fine morning it is. You look well," she finished abruptly. Tumnus looked confused for a moment before he gave a little laugh and turned the conversation to another topic. Lucy could remember little of what they spoke of until suddenly one of the Fauns was leading her horse towards her and everyone began making their goodbyes. Mr. Tumnus walked a little ways with her before helping her onto her horse. She was very aware of his hands on her waist, a fleeting touch on her thigh and calf that seemed to burn through the fabric of her riding dress. Her heart was pumping strangely in her chest and Mr. Tumnus' face was passing in and out of focus.

"Lucy, you looked flushed! Are you quite alright?" he asked worriedly, abandoning his formality out of earshot of the others. He grasped one of her hands anxiously but she pulled it back hastily, grabbing hold of the reins to cover her reaction.

"I am fine, dear Mr. Tumnus. Only I'm afraid it's the sun. It's very bright today, isn't it?" He looked at her strangely.

"Perhaps you'd better return to the palace. I shall pass on your regards to the Beavers."

"What? Oh...yes. Regards. I think I shall go back...I feel as though I should like to lie down. Shall we see you on Tuesday, Mr. Tumnus?" He nodded his reply, trying to fathom what was behind her strangely shy, almost formal behaviour. He kept staring down the road even after she had rounded the bend out of sight and it was a long moment before he shook his head and turned back to help his comrades.

Now, as they wended their way deeper into the garden, Tumnus wondered if he had offended dear Lucy in some way; a thought that so upset him he quite lost track of their surroundings, until, suddenly, they were at an offshoot of the Great River. Lucy pulled away from Tumnus and stopped on the edge of the bank, eyes closed, and took in a deep breath. The palace proper was out of sight behind them and the beginnings of the Great Forest loomed before them. It was a heady mix of the comfortable and the unknown. Something about it made Lucy feel strong and alive and daring, and when Mr. Tumnus moved to stand next to her she turned impulsively and, pressed her lips to his.

It was a soft, glancing thing, hardly worthy of the breath it took to say "kiss," but suddenly all her courage fled her and she looked at him with big, apprehensive eyes, holding her breath against the pressure in her chest. And it seemed to her that all of existence had been leading up to this moment, this aftermath, and now was the time when the balance would be weighed and the whole enterprise marked a profit or a loss.

Tumnus, for his part, was stunned. He lifted a hand to his lips and stared at Lucy for a long moment. The air between them turned awkward and Lucy began to feel she ought to say something. She opened her mouth and closed it again as he laid his hand against her cheek. She raised her eyes to his face and a tingling ran through her body where he touched her.

"Lucy," and her name sounded strange and wonderful on his lips, sounded unlike it had ever sounded before, a mixture of longing and regret. He pulled her against him and ran his hands through her long, wavy hair. His body trembled and she felt his head shake in a violent negative, his hands smoothing rapidly through her hair. At last he tilted her head back and smiled at her. With a little crooked smile he took her head in both hands and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"My dear, dear Lu-" he began, but she twisted away violently and stood with her back to him, hands clenched into fists and straight at her sides.

"Lucy?" He put a hand on her shoulder and she turned toward him.

"I'll always just be "dear Lucy" to you, won't I, Tumnus?" she asked quietly. She shook her head and a single tear slipped from the corner of her eye, a solitary harbinger of the flood ahead. He began to say something--he knew not what--but she turned in a whirl of skirts and hair and ran back up the path towards the castle, leaving him alone with the trees and sky and water.