Lucy.

[snitchnipped]

I'm killing two birds with one stone here, but since I have learned that it is impossible for me to write anything as short as a drabble, I'm sure the length will make up for it just being one story for two people. It fits in with my Dichotomy canon, though it surely could stand alone, and takes place four years after the Narnian half of that story. It comes with a sneak mention of two OCs from the sequel.

For snacky and lady_songsmith, who both wanted something about Lucy, the former with Tumnus, the latter on a journey:

The apple rolled back and forth in the corner between several barrels in the main hold. Lucy wondered how interesting it would be if the piece of fruit was covered in ink and what design the apple’s trail would make on the floorboards. She also wondered how angry the Captain would be were she to undertake such an artistic endeavor.

She lay sprawled on one of the lower hammocks, cushioning her head with the crook of her elbow, one leg dangled down with a bare toe skidding across the floor as the ship rocked too and fro.

“You’ll catch a splinter.”

“The floor needs to be seasoned and polished eventually, Tumnus. I am merely doing my part, one toe at a time,” Lucy retorted. Her dainty feet were deceptive, for the bottoms were nearly completely calloused over.

Tumnus glanced up with an amused smile before bending his head down over his book, scribbling away. She was reminded of Edmund, save for the fact that Tumnus’ writing was impeccable and consistent. Edmund’s was gibberish with calculations, lists and drawings (sometimes crude, at that) in the margins.

Lucy closed her eyes and fell deep in with the rhythm of the boat. It was the return trip of the maiden voyage of the newly christened Splendor Hyaline, the jewel of their fleet, and it had been a boring one at that. The ship had ventured to Calormen for Narnia’s annual spring visit with Tumnus leading the delegation, and it was as it always was. Wariness, hesitancy, guardedness, followed by calculation, negotiation, some amusement, and finally ending with settlement and planning. All to be forgotten in a half a year’s time anyway. Boring, boring, boring. It was the same, year after year. Lucy would much rather have broken out the new ship on something new and exciting, such as the Terebinthian Blossom Festival that she has wanted to go to for years.

“Tumnus?” she called, opening her eyes.

“Hmmm?” He did not look up from his scribbling.

“Aren’t you ever tired of playing these games in Tashbaan? It’s not as if anything new is accomplished.”

After Tumnus finished a sentence with what looked like a two dotted i’s and a crossed T, he looked up at her. His face was devoid of humor. “I am, Lucy. But unless we have a more permanent presence down there, we must start from scratch each and every time. It’s the best we can do as long as the current Tisroc is still in power,” he said, dipping his pen in a well. “Your brother wishes to change this trend with the embassy.”

Lucy looked over at his inkwell, then back to the corner the apple had been rolling around in. Thankfully, the apple was nowhere to be seen (though she did hear it rumbling as if it was stuck in a small pocket somewhere). For the best, I’m sure, she thought, abandoning the creative thoughts her mind was taking her.

“This embassy idea,” Lucy said. “Peter keeps talking about it, but nothing ever comes of it.”

Tumnus stopped writing but didn’t look up. “It finally is. His Majesty has said he wants it established by midsummer.” Tumnus uncomfortably cleared his throat. “He’s approached me to head it,” he quietly said.

Lucy sat straight up, nearly losing her balance on the rocking hammock and toppling out. “What? But you can’t, Tumnus, you can’t live down there and leave Narnia, it’s your home, and what shall I ever do without you, though I’m sure you would do a marvelous job!”

Lucy’s ramble did elicit a smile from the faun. “It’s true, I am the most experienced in working with the Calormenes.”

Draping herself back down on the hammock, she thought about what she really wanted to say. That you’re my best friend, I don’t know what I would do without you here, and I’m just a selfish fool. Instead, she elegantly allowed herself to say, “You would be brilliant, Tumnus. Though you would be missed by all.”

“By you most of all, Lucy, I’m sure,” he kindly said. “But you have many friends, I know you would not find yourself lonely.”

That was true. Lucy thought on all of her closest friends... Durah, the Beavers, and even Baris “the other faun”, as he jokingly referred to himself when he wasn’t on a mission somewhere for Edmund. And those were just the closest, for she could hardly go anywhere without running into a friend of some sort. “Yes, but you are my rock, Tumnus.”

Tumnus didn’t say anything. He cleaned his pen on a rag, capped his inkwell, and sprinkled sand on his book before blowing it away. Finally, he turned in his seat and waited until Lucy met his gaze.

“I turned the High King down, Lucy.”

Lucy’s smile grew to match his. Though she knew it was Narnia’s loss, it was her personal gain, and as selfish as she knew she was being, she didn’t particularly care. “Good,” she said simply, and started dragging her toe on the floor again, rocking along with the waves.

Tumnus gave her a single nod. “Yes. Good,” he echoed and closed his book. A particularly strong wave hit the starboard hull, and she heard the apple become dislodged and tumble across the room. Tumnus looked down at her foot. “You’re going to get a splinter, Lucy.”

“I am not.”

And then she got a splinter.

Lucy's head! Unfamiliar territory, and I think I'll step out again, thank you very much.