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Tumnus is mesmerized to see the preparations for Prince Caspian’s arrival. Cair Paravel seems to awake after winter sleep and vibrate with new colors.
The chirping of spring birds mingles with the noises in the castle. Servants scurry here and there, wiping furniture, spreading clean expensive carpets, filling dishes of the finest workmanship. And Tumnus… Tumnus is just there. He is Lucy’s private servant and Lucy wants him to be in the castle, giving his kind advice and merely cheering up her spirit.
“My friend!”
Tumnus stumbles in the middle of the crowded corridor. Edmund’s dark eyes freeze him in place.
“My friend! Please! Queen Lucy’s maid sprained her ankle. But we need Lucy prepared in a minute. The Prince is about to enter the gates!”
“But I—“
“All servants are too busy. And I don’t have time for searching. Queen Susan awaits me with her husband.”
“I can try to find someone—“
“It’s urgent, go yourself, I beg you!”
Tumnus lowers his gaze down his body, to give Edmund a hint that his intrusion into the Queen’s chambers won’t be appropriate. But Edmund merely stares at him, tense, panicked, hopeful. So Tumnus breaks,
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Lucy hears the knock on the door, followed by an unintelligible muttering. She’s sure it’s her maid when she permits to come in. Lucy rolls on her other side, to face the window. Gentle golden rays pour through it. She inhales the morning air and her heart starts to beat faster at the sight of the newborn green leaves.
She thinks it’s a dream when she hears how the hooves slightly hit the wooden floor.
“Queen Lucy. Good morning, Your Majesty. I’m sorry, you weren’t warned about me.”
Lucy turns around languidly, nuzzling the large pillow.
“Tumnus? Is it a dream?”
“No, I—“
“You came for a secret date? I love secret dates. It’s adventurous. Let’s escape through the window.”
“Your Majesty, unfortunately, your maid is feeling unwell today. Other servants are hurrying to finish their duties, so King Edmund personally asked me to serve you. Prince Caspian will arrive today and Your Majesty should be prepared.”
“Oh… Alright.”
Tumnus bows, showing that he is ready for work.
Lucy rubs her eyelids and shifts the duvet, getting up. She’s used to assist her maid so her fingers move to quickly undo the buttons of her nightgown. The silk slips to the floor and at that same moment Tumnus grasps his face as if something hurt his eyes.
Lucy yawns, watching the painful blush, blooming so densely on his covered face. Her sleepy head hints to her that she is the one who gives him the reason for such a wild embarrassment. Right… She’s standing naked.
“Oh, Tumnus… I’m sorry,” Lucy mumbles, and she doesn’t laugh at him, at all.
She dares to look down her body, to confirm that she’s utterly bare. It’s alright with her maid. But Tumnus emphasizes time after time that he’s a male faun. Though, Lucy doesn’t understand from where he took the idea that seeing the opposite sex nude is embarrassing. She hasn’t had the chance to explain to him that. But somebody has if Tumnus cringes and mutters so feverishly,
“How King Edmund could— You’re a lady… Oh, you’re a lady.”
Lucy stops worrying. Tumnus isn’t one of her relatives. He is not vicious or witty or full of exaggerated morals. He is her best friend and he is gentle enough to not mock or scold her for this.
Then, in the back of her mind, Lucy vaguely ponders how are they supposed to get married if he saw her naked beforehand. But they’ve already had the solemn ceremony in the forest, their furry friends would confirm. Moreover, she has the right to show him her body. It’s time. She has been waiting for long and she’s a mature bride now, twenty years old. Lucy smiles sleepily, so proud of herself.
“Oh, Tumnus, I’m sorry. Give me the bowl with cold water. It’s on the windowsill. Darling, I spent the whole night reading so that’s why I’m so shattered now. My head aches a bit and eyes…” she allows another yawn. “Are so dry.”
Tumnus finds the bowl with his gaze and runs to it, clip-clopping nervously. She can tell that his tail is shivering, though her exhausted eyes may mislead her.
When the bowl is presented to her, she takes the handful of water, to rub it into her flushed cheeks and swollen eyelids. Tumnus’ hands are trembling visibly. He is staring down and Lucy suddenly figures that he’s worried if there’s anything inappropriate showing down his waist. Lucy peeks only to make sure that his fur covers him solidly, like always. Her Tumnus is a gentleman.
Lucy makes a few gulps of water and thanks him.
“Let’s dress up now,” she encourages kindly.
His ears wince and he stutters, flushed anew,
“We are in a hurry… But I d-don’t— How am I supposed to know how to dress up…? I’m walking naked…”
He crouches as if Lucy is going to shame him.
“And my Queen, you’re a lady… I’m incompetent. Forgive me.”
“It’s alright, Tumnus,” Lucy struggles to comfort him. “You would learn. I’ll give you prompts. Look, my underwear is folded on the chair. Give me my slippers first. Right. Now, a chemise.”
“This?”
“Yes, please.”
He takes it into his hands tentatively. Gentle silk glides along his skin but its smooth movement is interrupted by the stripes of fur on the back of his forearms. Tumnus panics, thinking that his hands are rude for the thin fabric.
“I’m going to put it over your head.”
As if he can hurt her doing so. The fabric whispers and tickles Lucy. She notices that Tumnus is trying not to touch her skin. Not successfully though because his hands are shaking from nervousness.
Lucy can feel how he becomes calmer the moment her body is finally covered. The pang of regret nudges her chest.
“Mr. Tumnus, I’m so sorry for Edmund… It’s him who gave you the order, it seems. Sometimes he’s so overwhelmed by duties that it prevents him from noticing obvious things. After all, I could dress up myself. I’m so sorry.”
“You are very kind, Queen Lucy, but I am alright.”
“Your knees tremble.”
“Oh, it’s only… a faun’s nature. Don’t worry, I can control myself. And this was… useful. I mean— If we—”
“If we are married, you can spend more time with me, dressing me up instead of a maid. And I could dress you up…! In something… It can be tiresome sometimes though…”
“Yes, Queen Lucy, that’s what I thought about. I’m glad to learn,” Tumnus interrupts her very softly.
“Right,” Lucy mutters and settles back on the bed. “So I can put on stockings myself.”
“No, allow me. Please.”
Again, he has to be cautious to not damage the fabric with his clumsy hands. For the first time in his life, he’s grateful to not have claws.
“Darling, fold it. So it would envelop my toes. Yes.”
Lucy watches warily how Tumnus is struggling to kneel. He has to do it during royal ceremonies and he tries his best to look noble with his knees bent. His legs are not built for kneeling like a human though, so Lucy’s always anxious, guessing how much uncomfortable he really is.
The feeling of awkward intimacy returns when his hands slide up her shin. Lucy’s silent and flushed, watching how his curls are gleaming under the sunray. They both make sure to breathe quietly.
“Then… drawers. Dressing a lady is a science,” Tumnus mutters hoarsely.
Lucy snickers.
“Yes!”
He breathes out when she’s finally fully covered with silk and cotton, except for the feeble arms and clavicle. She doesn’t look less beautiful. Tumnus doesn’t know much about human nudity and how to react to it. But he recalls watching mermaids and nymphs and finding them fascinating.
“Now, corset,” Lucy prompts kindly.
She helps Tumnus to settle it right, comfortable for her chest. Then she hears how he swallows, handling the laces with his trembling fingers.
“Tighter,” she commands and straightens her spine when he tugs.
“T-to much?”
“No. But you do it quicker than my maid. It’s good.”
Tumnus understands what she means after she smiles at him viciously and raises her hand to pinch his bicep. Well, he’s forced to be firm and strong, and so nice that it’s to her liking. He doesn’t tell how, just two days ago, he had to jump and climb on a tree, escaping from a boar. It’s hard to be prey.
“By the way, Tumnus, I could recommend you a corset. You said you get back pains, especially in winter. A corset would secure and warm your back. I can gift it to you together with a sweater, so the corset won’t be seen and you’d feel very warm. We’ll choose one for you. I think the green color would look nice with your red scarf. It would create a Christmas-y look. Also, I’ll give you a nice blanket, to warm your legs and hooves. Though, I really think you could try socks when you’re at home…”
“I’m baffled, Queen Lucy. I would be much obliged. Though, your Majesty makes me feel like an old faun.”
“You’re a domestic faun.”
“Oh, I have to. I rarely feel safe when I’m out. But I’m yet a mature faun. And I enjoy being your knight and… a butler.”
“I’m glad to hear. Now, please, cross the laces at the back and tie them in front. There’s a hook below my waist. Give me, I’ll tie… Fine. Next, a crinolette!”
He stares at her, puzzled, and she happily explains,
“It is the thing for keeping a skirt wide. Looks like a cage. Search in a wardrobe. Usually, I wear the red one. Yes,” Lucy nods when he returns. “Over the head.”
She closes her eyes when the heavy fabric slides down her body.
“Is it alright?” Tumnus pulls his hand to smooth her hair but drops it on halfway. Lucy tucks the strands behind her ears.
“Yes. Thank you. A petticoat!”
Tumnus follows her sparkling gaze which leads him back to the wardrobe.
“Oh, what is it, what is it…” he mutters under his breath, feverishly sorting the fabrics.
“It’s a big skirt. Choose the white color. I need only one for this season.”
Finally, he retrieves a cloth and stumbles back to her.
“I wonder from where you got so many dresses,” Tumnus muses, pulling the fabric down Lucy’s head and chest, letting the rustle of the cotton soothe him. “You’re alright?”
“Yeah,” Lucy turns to the mirror, curiously eyeing her frame. “Beavers, foxes, dryads, and others made this all for me. Edmund worried that it’s slave labor, but luckily, they assured that they wanted to cheer me with presents. I cherish each item. Let’s move on to a camisole. It’s a vest over the corset.”
This one is an easy pick. Lucy manages the fastenings herself, so Tumnus shouldn’t face her feminine parts and notice how much they have softened. Not that he would comment on it.
“Please, bring me a skirt. An actual skirt. It’s from silk, with ruffles.”
Tumnus worries a bit when Lucy disappears inside the cocoon of fabric as if plunging into it. She’s flushed when the silk slips down her head but she doesn’t look distressed. Tumnus would feel trapped in her place. He would fear getting stuck there and suffocating.
“Thank you. The overskirt, now. You’ll notice its nice pink bows. Edmund says they are awful and we all should wear something simplified. Maybe, he is right. But I find our present garments pretty.”
A bodice is the last item. Lucy explains that it’s a jacket for the exquisite ladies. Tumnus would’ve felt awkward, wearing so much expensive silk. Even a plain silk tunic, the present from a satyr, shook him with embarrassment.
Lucy notices how shy he is while fastening a separate bow on her waist. The tip of his nose is red as if he is cold. It’s the right time for pinching his ears, but Lucy won’t do it. Of course, she won’t.
“Give me the gloves. Oh, I hate them. Fine.”
Lucy settles on the bed carefully, respecting the time and effort Tumnus has put into her look.
“Bring me my holiday slippers, please. I think I’m unable to pick anything from the floor now. Take those with flower embroidery and ribbons.”
Tumnus finds the shoes and immediately thinks that they are a piece of art. He is happy that somebody can create something as subtle and exquisite, for Queen Lucy. He is fascinated not only by the fabric and embroidery but by the little firm heels. They resemble hooves just slightly and he can’t restrict himself from imagining Lucy as a faun. At the feast, they would match each other quite mesmerizingly if she could dance with him on heels.
He almost laughs at the picture and kneels once more. Holding her feet in his hand gives him a pleasant shiver.
Lucy watches how his cheeks become the shade of pink apples. She wonders if he’s also recalling the stories about princes and princesses, doing the same thing.
“All right. I’m clothed!” she exclaims solemnly, proud of her faun’s achievement. “Now, Tumnus, what about learning the art of makeup and hairstyling?”
“W-what?” Tumnus shrieks, not able to conceal the expression of horror.
He scrambles back to his feet when the door flings open, letting someone fly in like a spirit. Sniffing in the flowery odor, Tumnus concludes it’s a lady. Why didn’t she knock? He hurries to apologize but the other voice fills the room before he forces his throat to work.
“Lucy, Prince Caspian is here!”
“Oh, Susan!”
“He says he wants to see you, to greet you. No matter how you look. You may finish the preparations later, there’re three hours left before the feast. Oh, good morning, Tumnus!”
“Great!” Lucy jumps on her feet, forgetting about the layers of heavy fabrics.
Tumnus turns around shakily.
“Good morning, Queen Susan.”
“It felt very comfortable with you,” Lucy mutters softly, and he gradually realizes that these kind words are addressed to him.
“The pleasure was mine, my Queen,” he bows to her and then to Susan, thinking that his warmed-up ears would flutter if it was only possible for them.
“Would you like to accompany me to the Prince? You’re an ambassador. I’m sure he would like to say a word to you, too. And I need a guard. I feel safe with you.”
It’s hard to praise him more. He exhales, dealing with all the shyness, and nods to her joyfully,
“I would be happy to.”
Lucy snickers, almost dancing when she makes her way forward. Tumnus follows her, reminding himself that he shouldn’t take her hand or hold her by the waist. The royal etiquette. He would be allowed to do that when it’s time to dance at the feast. He shivers in anticipation.