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The house just northeast of Forks proper is very big, quite abandoned, and really easy to just walk right in if you're of a mind to. There are signs that people have been camping in it while hiking, but currently it is unoccupied by visitors, squatters, or any animals larger than a squirrel. There's been a fair amount of furniture but fewer small possessions left behind: couch, piano, dining table, wardrobe, armchair, kingsized bed. It's in extremely variable states of repair.
neverbeatme
She filed this place away as a mystery to investigate when she was bored.
Well, now she is bored.
Elizabeth inspects the place closely, looking in particular for anywhere it might have been convenient for somebody to hide a body. (That is the likeliest possible reason why no one ever found the kid, after all.)
That wardrobe, for example! It seems pretty deep, and it's shut pretty firmly. Once she gets the door open, she's careful to wedge it that way with a reasonably sturdy chair before climbing inside past a surprisingly well-preserved selection of fur coats - she'd pull them out first if she thought there was actually a dead teenager in there, but odds are high that in any setting outside of a mystery novel somebody else would have found him by now.
Well, now she is bored.
Elizabeth inspects the place closely, looking in particular for anywhere it might have been convenient for somebody to hide a body. (That is the likeliest possible reason why no one ever found the kid, after all.)
That wardrobe, for example! It seems pretty deep, and it's shut pretty firmly. Once she gets the door open, she's careful to wedge it that way with a reasonably sturdy chair before climbing inside past a surprisingly well-preserved selection of fur coats - she'd pull them out first if she thought there was actually a dead teenager in there, but odds are high that in any setting outside of a mystery novel somebody else would have found him by now.
Coats.
Coats coats coats.
Crunchy stuff underfoot.
Coats coats pine trees.
Coats coats coats.
Crunchy stuff underfoot.
Coats coats pine trees.
The pine trees were not expecting her, either, but you don't see them making that face.
There is plenty of snow. It is cold. There is a lit lamp-post.
And stepping into the spill of light from the lamp-post is a man just a little bit taller than she is, who has fur on his hoofed legs and a tail looped over his elbow and parcels in his hand and an umbrella in his other hand and a scarf round his neck and little pokey horns being little and pokey amongst his hair.
He reacts with much less aplomb to his surprise at seeing Elizabeth than did the pine trees. Dropped are all his carried possessions and the tail too.
There is plenty of snow. It is cold. There is a lit lamp-post.
And stepping into the spill of light from the lamp-post is a man just a little bit taller than she is, who has fur on his hoofed legs and a tail looped over his elbow and parcels in his hand and an umbrella in his other hand and a scarf round his neck and little pokey horns being little and pokey amongst his hair.
He reacts with much less aplomb to his surprise at seeing Elizabeth than did the pine trees. Dropped are all his carried possessions and the tail too.
"Oh goodness gracious me," says the faun-person, collecting up his parcels again. "Yes, I'm quite all right, good evening, good evening - pardon me, but am I right in thinking that you are a Daughter of Eve?"
"Well, it's - are you a girl? A human sort of girl, that is to say?"
neverbeatme
"Um... yes? I don't think I knew until just now that girls came in any other kinds," she says.
"Oh! How delightful. I have never met a daughter of Eve or a son of Adam before at all!" exclaims the faun. "This is simply -" Pause, collecting his tail out of the snow to go back over his elbow. "Delightful, delightful. Please allow me to introduce myself. I am called Tumnus."
neverbeatme
(He doesn't exactly sound delighted, but she feels that now is not the time to say so.)
"It's nice to meet you, Tumnus. I'm Elizabeth. What sort of a... you... are you?"
"It's nice to meet you, Tumnus. I'm Elizabeth. What sort of a... you... are you?"
"I am a Faun, if that is what you mean to ask," says Tumnus. "And might I inquire - how is it that you have come into Narnia?"
neverbeatme
"I'm... not sure," she says. "I was in an empty house and I looked in a wardrobe to see what was there and it was just some old coats, but when I went in past the coats there were trees instead and now I'm not sure where the coats went."
"Alas, I did not study geography very hard as a little Faun and do not know anything about these strange countries," sighs Tumnus.
neverbeatme
"That's okay," she says. "If I've never heard of Fauns and you've never seen a human, I think our countries are probably really far away from each other and you might not have learned about mine in geography anyway."
"Oh, that's cheering, I suppose," says Tumnus. "At any rate, in this country, it is winter all of the time and we will soon catch cold if we stand out here in the snow. How would it be if you came and took tea with me?"
neverbeatme
"I think that sounds much better than standing out here in the snow," she says. "Can I help you carry any of your things?"
"If you would be so disposed! But it's only just round the corner." He offers her a parcel to carry, and holds the umbrella over the both of them and leads the way.
Presently they come to a neatly hidden little cave equipped with a roaring fire and a teakettle, which Tumnus promptly sets about using to make tea.
neverbeatme
It's cute. Kind of disquieting, to have a moment to sit and think about what's going on, but - still cute.
There are two chairs - Tumnus points them out, "one for me and one for a friend" - and a portrait of an elderly faun on the mantelpiece and a bookshelf full of odd-titled books.
Tumnus makes no objection to her looking around while he boils them each an egg and puts various condiments on toast.
Tumnus makes no objection to her looking around while he boils them each an egg and puts various condiments on toast.
The Life and Letters of Silenus. Nymphs and Their Ways. Men, Monks, and Gamekeepers: a Study in Popular Legend. Is Man A Myth?
neverbeatme
Well, that fits the going story.
Rather than read one, she perches in one of the chairs.
Rather than read one, she perches in one of the chairs.