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edenfallingThis started as a fill for the Three Sentence Ficathon, but it quickly got out of hand, even for me -- to the degree that my series of girl!Arthur/Eames fills did in 2011, or the Discworld/Enchanted Forest crossover did this spring.
I don't care. I like it anyway. And the world can always use more Lucy and Mr. Tumnus being best friends. :-)
So.
12.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
betonyb, Any, any, daemon AU
Lucy and Mr. Tumnus discuss history and hypotheticals over tea, in the second summer after the end of the Witch's reign. Daemon AU. (1,275 words)
[ETA: The AO3 crosspost is now up!]
---------------------------------------------
Without Any External or Physical Form
---------------------------------------------
"I'm not familiar with the legends myself, but according to one of the tradition passed down among the Beasts, which I've been recording at Queen Susan's request, King Frank and Queen Helen had dear companions -- a hound and a lark, I believe -- who never strayed far from their sides and perished from grief at their deaths, and this was the origin of the royal bodyguards," Mr. Tumnus said, taking off his glasses and closing his raggedly bound journal. "It is entirely possible that those companions were daemons, but none of the first princes and princesses were born with divided souls and I couldn't say whether the other human lands have similar legends about their own founders. My library is most dreadfully limited in that respect and I can't afford to buy the relevant books."
"Buy them for the royal library, then, and read them whenever you wish. We don't mind paying the bill," Lucy said as she poured them both more tea. The cups were new, as was the pot and everything else save the sugar tongs. She and Susan had imported them specially from Galma to replace the tea set Maugrim and his secret police had broken when they carried Mr. Tumnus away to the Witch's castle. All the best tea services come from Galma, though they can be fearfully expensive, and Mr. Tumnus had been overjoyed at the gift.
"I still think it's frightfully odd to stuff all of a person's soul into a single body," Lucy continued. "How can everything fit?"
"And how can you learn to know yourself if you can hush up any second thoughts or deny any traits you dislike? How can you trust the people around you if you can't see the shape of their souls?" Bairzin added. He changed into a kingfisher and made a mock dive toward Mr. Tumnus's hooves, of course pulling up at the last second to avoid physical contact.
Mr. Tumnus shrugged. "The same way everyone else manages, I suppose. I've certainly never felt cramped or stifled, and it strikes me as dangerous to assume a daemon's shape will tell you everything about a person."
"It is dangerous, and it's rude besides," Lucy said as her daemon landed heavily on her shoulder. "Bairzin, you should apologize."
"Shan't. You're always saying, 'Oh, I bet she'd have a dog, and he'd have a cat, and she'd have a bear,' and on and on. You don't even know what shape I'll settle into," Bairzin said, preening his feathers slightly. "Don't pretend you're perfect."
"It's not the same thing at all!" Lucy protested.
"Yes it is. Besides, you ought to know by now that two dogs can be as different as two humans, so what's the use of saying 'dog' about two people when you could say 'loyal' about one and 'playful' about the other. That's twice as clear and doesn't insult anyone."
"I must admit, your daemon has a point," Mr. Tumnus agreed. "One lump or two?"
"Two," Lucy said, still indulging in the glory of unrationed food. She stirred her tea, drank a wonderfully sweet and milky swallow, and sighed. "I suppose you're both right and I shouldn't make assumptions. I don't mean anything by it, though. I just feel a bit more at home, pretending Susan and Peter and Edmund and I aren't the only ones in the whole world to have daemons. It's already lonely being almost the only humans in Narnia."
"More will come back now that the first winter has passed without the Witch's spell returning. I've been looking through the old land records to prepare for assessing property disputes, which I expect may get complicated," Mr. Tumnus said. Then he paused with his teacup halfway to his mouth, and asked, "Would it be rude to ask if you've imagined me with a daemon?"
Lucy fiddled with the ladyfinger she'd just plucked from a plate. "I don't think it's rude, exactly."
"A bit personal, perhaps," Bairzin said, changing into a monkey and twining his paws into Lucy's windblown hair.
"Yes, a bit personal," Lucy agreed. "I wouldn't tell everybody what I think about them deep down, but I don't mind telling you. Do you want to know?"
"You have seen me at my worst and yet you call me a friend, despite knowing I served the Witch of my own weakness and free will. I suspect your opinion of me is more likely to be unrealistically flattering than insulting," Mr. Tumnus said. Nonetheless, his ears twitched and his tail flicked around his ankles as he waited for Lucy to finish the ladyfinger, which are sure signs of nerves in a faun, which you may observe for yourself should you ever meet one.
"I think your daemon would be a plover, or maybe a mourning dove. They're not big or very showy, but they keep themselves tidy and if a predator comes too close to their nests they pretend to have a broken wing and flutter around to draw attention away from their eggs. Sometimes they die doing that," Lucy said. "You made a deal to spy for the Witch, but you saved me instead, and that's why we can sit here in summer drinking tea and talking about imaginary things."
Mr. Tumnus was silent.
"Are you insulted?" Lucy asked. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be insulting!"
"I don't think you were," Bairzin murmured into her ear, too quietly to carry across the table.
"I'm not insulted," Mr. Tumnus said, sounding a bit choked up. "Quite the opposite! I'm, oh dear, that is-- I think I might cry."
Lucy hastily offered him a handkerchief. The faun dabbed at his damp eyes, then blew his nose with a forlorn honk. He lowered his hands and regarded the handkerchief with a melancholy air.
"I seem to forever be in your debt," he said, folding the handkerchief and setting it down beside his teacup. "I'll wash it tonight and return it to you tomorrow." Mr. Tumnus seemed dreadfully serious about that promise, as if he were revisiting the terrible state of mind into which he had fallen shortly after the coronation, when the weight of his past had come crashing down like a mountain of guilt. Lucy understood that it was a matter of conscience for him, but she hated seeing her friend so upset and wished she could make him truly feel in his heart that she forgave him just as she had forgiven Edmund.
"Don't hurry for my sake. I don't need it as soon as all that," she assured him. "One nice thing about being a queen is you never run short of handkerchiefs."
"Assuming you remember to put them in your pockets in the first place," Bairzin said.
Lucy raised her hand and stroked along his soft, furry spine. "Why should I bother when I have you to remind me?"
"Lazy."
"It's efficient delegation! See, I have so been listening to Susan's lectures -- and you thought I'd slept through them all!"
Slowly, almost as if he thought he shouldn't, Mr. Tumnus began to smile. Lucy continued to bicker with her daemon, more than happy to make merry at her own expense if it would cheer her best friend's spirits. After a minute, Mr. Tumnus also began to laugh.
Lucy and Bairzin exchanged a satisfied smile. One day they'd convince Mr. Tumnus that they didn't blame him for anything, and persuade him to move to Cair Paravel where he could have all the comforts and books he wanted. Until then, they would do their best to protect him from himself.
---------------------------------------------
End of Story
---------------------------------------------
So yeah, that happened, complete with awkward attempts at mimicking Lewis's narrative asides. And now that my brain is no longer being devoured by particularly insistent plot weasels, I would like to get back to my Yuletide fic, please, without any further distractions. *makes puppydog eyes at the universe*
I don't care. I like it anyway. And the world can always use more Lucy and Mr. Tumnus being best friends. :-)
So.
12.
betonyb, Any, any, daemon AULucy and Mr. Tumnus discuss history and hypotheticals over tea, in the second summer after the end of the Witch's reign. Daemon AU. (1,275 words)
[ETA: The AO3 crosspost is now up!]
---------------------------------------------
Without Any External or Physical Form
---------------------------------------------
"I'm not familiar with the legends myself, but according to one of the tradition passed down among the Beasts, which I've been recording at Queen Susan's request, King Frank and Queen Helen had dear companions -- a hound and a lark, I believe -- who never strayed far from their sides and perished from grief at their deaths, and this was the origin of the royal bodyguards," Mr. Tumnus said, taking off his glasses and closing his raggedly bound journal. "It is entirely possible that those companions were daemons, but none of the first princes and princesses were born with divided souls and I couldn't say whether the other human lands have similar legends about their own founders. My library is most dreadfully limited in that respect and I can't afford to buy the relevant books."
"Buy them for the royal library, then, and read them whenever you wish. We don't mind paying the bill," Lucy said as she poured them both more tea. The cups were new, as was the pot and everything else save the sugar tongs. She and Susan had imported them specially from Galma to replace the tea set Maugrim and his secret police had broken when they carried Mr. Tumnus away to the Witch's castle. All the best tea services come from Galma, though they can be fearfully expensive, and Mr. Tumnus had been overjoyed at the gift.
"I still think it's frightfully odd to stuff all of a person's soul into a single body," Lucy continued. "How can everything fit?"
"And how can you learn to know yourself if you can hush up any second thoughts or deny any traits you dislike? How can you trust the people around you if you can't see the shape of their souls?" Bairzin added. He changed into a kingfisher and made a mock dive toward Mr. Tumnus's hooves, of course pulling up at the last second to avoid physical contact.
Mr. Tumnus shrugged. "The same way everyone else manages, I suppose. I've certainly never felt cramped or stifled, and it strikes me as dangerous to assume a daemon's shape will tell you everything about a person."
"It is dangerous, and it's rude besides," Lucy said as her daemon landed heavily on her shoulder. "Bairzin, you should apologize."
"Shan't. You're always saying, 'Oh, I bet she'd have a dog, and he'd have a cat, and she'd have a bear,' and on and on. You don't even know what shape I'll settle into," Bairzin said, preening his feathers slightly. "Don't pretend you're perfect."
"It's not the same thing at all!" Lucy protested.
"Yes it is. Besides, you ought to know by now that two dogs can be as different as two humans, so what's the use of saying 'dog' about two people when you could say 'loyal' about one and 'playful' about the other. That's twice as clear and doesn't insult anyone."
"I must admit, your daemon has a point," Mr. Tumnus agreed. "One lump or two?"
"Two," Lucy said, still indulging in the glory of unrationed food. She stirred her tea, drank a wonderfully sweet and milky swallow, and sighed. "I suppose you're both right and I shouldn't make assumptions. I don't mean anything by it, though. I just feel a bit more at home, pretending Susan and Peter and Edmund and I aren't the only ones in the whole world to have daemons. It's already lonely being almost the only humans in Narnia."
"More will come back now that the first winter has passed without the Witch's spell returning. I've been looking through the old land records to prepare for assessing property disputes, which I expect may get complicated," Mr. Tumnus said. Then he paused with his teacup halfway to his mouth, and asked, "Would it be rude to ask if you've imagined me with a daemon?"
Lucy fiddled with the ladyfinger she'd just plucked from a plate. "I don't think it's rude, exactly."
"A bit personal, perhaps," Bairzin said, changing into a monkey and twining his paws into Lucy's windblown hair.
"Yes, a bit personal," Lucy agreed. "I wouldn't tell everybody what I think about them deep down, but I don't mind telling you. Do you want to know?"
"You have seen me at my worst and yet you call me a friend, despite knowing I served the Witch of my own weakness and free will. I suspect your opinion of me is more likely to be unrealistically flattering than insulting," Mr. Tumnus said. Nonetheless, his ears twitched and his tail flicked around his ankles as he waited for Lucy to finish the ladyfinger, which are sure signs of nerves in a faun, which you may observe for yourself should you ever meet one.
"I think your daemon would be a plover, or maybe a mourning dove. They're not big or very showy, but they keep themselves tidy and if a predator comes too close to their nests they pretend to have a broken wing and flutter around to draw attention away from their eggs. Sometimes they die doing that," Lucy said. "You made a deal to spy for the Witch, but you saved me instead, and that's why we can sit here in summer drinking tea and talking about imaginary things."
Mr. Tumnus was silent.
"Are you insulted?" Lucy asked. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be insulting!"
"I don't think you were," Bairzin murmured into her ear, too quietly to carry across the table.
"I'm not insulted," Mr. Tumnus said, sounding a bit choked up. "Quite the opposite! I'm, oh dear, that is-- I think I might cry."
Lucy hastily offered him a handkerchief. The faun dabbed at his damp eyes, then blew his nose with a forlorn honk. He lowered his hands and regarded the handkerchief with a melancholy air.
"I seem to forever be in your debt," he said, folding the handkerchief and setting it down beside his teacup. "I'll wash it tonight and return it to you tomorrow." Mr. Tumnus seemed dreadfully serious about that promise, as if he were revisiting the terrible state of mind into which he had fallen shortly after the coronation, when the weight of his past had come crashing down like a mountain of guilt. Lucy understood that it was a matter of conscience for him, but she hated seeing her friend so upset and wished she could make him truly feel in his heart that she forgave him just as she had forgiven Edmund.
"Don't hurry for my sake. I don't need it as soon as all that," she assured him. "One nice thing about being a queen is you never run short of handkerchiefs."
"Assuming you remember to put them in your pockets in the first place," Bairzin said.
Lucy raised her hand and stroked along his soft, furry spine. "Why should I bother when I have you to remind me?"
"Lazy."
"It's efficient delegation! See, I have so been listening to Susan's lectures -- and you thought I'd slept through them all!"
Slowly, almost as if he thought he shouldn't, Mr. Tumnus began to smile. Lucy continued to bicker with her daemon, more than happy to make merry at her own expense if it would cheer her best friend's spirits. After a minute, Mr. Tumnus also began to laugh.
Lucy and Bairzin exchanged a satisfied smile. One day they'd convince Mr. Tumnus that they didn't blame him for anything, and persuade him to move to Cair Paravel where he could have all the comforts and books he wanted. Until then, they would do their best to protect him from himself.
---------------------------------------------
End of Story
---------------------------------------------
So yeah, that happened, complete with awkward attempts at mimicking Lewis's narrative asides. And now that my brain is no longer being devoured by particularly insistent plot weasels, I would like to get back to my Yuletide fic, please, without any further distractions. *makes puppydog eyes at the universe*
(no subject)
Date: 2013-12-18 04:01 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2013-12-18 07:58 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2013-12-18 06:29 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2013-12-18 08:02 pm (UTC)*delivers hugs to Mr. Tumnus* He has a lot on his conscience, and unlike Edmund, he didn't get a dramatic deliverance and conversation with Aslan to reassure him. But Lucy does get through to him, since he seems perfectly happy when we see him during The Horse and His Boy! He may never move to Cair Paravel, though, or at least he doesn't stay forever since by the end of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe Mr. Tumnus seems to be living in Lantern Waste once again.
(no subject)
Date: 2013-12-19 03:11 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2013-12-20 04:14 am (UTC)