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Mirror Mirror	By : deadhead Category: A through F > Chronicles of Narnia Views: 4819 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not lay claim to the Chronicles of Narnia, nor am I making any money from this pastime.

Chapter List
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Edmund is not discreet. He really doesn't see any need to be. The Narnians have a very pragmatic attitude to sex, given that there have been no humans in the country for centuries. Dryads, naiads, mermaids, fauns, centaurs... these are the people of Narnia who are close enough to breed with humans, and none of them have any shame in the act. If both - or all - parties are willing and sexually mature, then what shame can there be? Marriage exists as a rite to confirm and celebrate the love of two or more people, but it is not a necessary precursor to sex.
Lucy and Edmund were young enough when they came to Narnia to shed their native prejudices on this matter, but Peter and Susan have a harder time of it. The first time a dryad lured Peter into a grove with intent he ran away, although the next dryad had better luck. Susan is still virgin, and Edmund does not think that she will change her mind soon.
Lucy is still too young, but her attitude is wholly Narnian.
Peter may have discovered the delights of dryads, but his feelings about fauns are rooted in the prejudices of an all-male boarding school. He and Edmund shout a lot for a while. The revelation of the wise-woman's prophesy eases the strain a bit, but Peter is not really reconciled to the situation until he realises that he and Susan are the only inhabitants of Cair Paravel who are upset, and that the general population considers his attitude unreasonable at best and offensive at worst.
Susan holds out longer, but since her method of showing disapproval consists of formally distancing herself from both Edmund and Tumnus it is easier to bear than the shouting.
And Edmund finds it hard to care when Tumnus is in his bed at night, and available out of bed pretty much any time, any place. They declare the Castle itself off-limits, except in lockable rooms, but no-one bats an eye to find them entwined in a birch grove or pressed hip-to-hip in an isolated cove.
Edmund finds the thought that Tumnus' cock is barely concealed in its furry sheath incredibly erotic. No clothes to lose - just a quick rub and it emerges, pink and willing, and larger than any human cock. He loves to deep-throat it in locked store-rooms as Tumnus stifles his moans with his own hairy fore-arm.
Even better is the secret pleasure waiting between those furry haunches. The first time Tumnus oiled himself up and lowered himself onto Edmund's cock the king almost fainted with the sensation of hot, tight friction around his prick. He came as soon as he was inside, but Tumnus only laughed and told him to try again in ten minutes, and that time he lasted longer. Soon he is an expert at opening up that secret passageway, twisting his fingers skillfully until Tumnus is begging to be impaled on his cock, please Edmund.
Susan finds them in their bathroom - Tumnus braced against the sink as Edmund sinks deep inside him, fur gently caressing his balls and belly - and calls them depraved. They tell her to close the door and knock next time. She doesn't speak to them for a week.
* * *
"What's it like, being raised a faun?" Edmunds asks one night.
Tumnus smiles languidly at him, sprawled sated across their rumpled bed. "What do you want to know?"
"You said that when you were weaned you went to live with your father. Is that normal?"
"Yes, girl-children born to the partners of fauns take after their mothers, but boy-children are invariably fauns, and when they are weaned they go to live with their fathers."
"Always?"
Tumnus frowns thoughtfully. "That's the way it's supposed to be. There are times when it doesn't work out like that, I suppose. I heard of a boy-child born to a nymph who was a nymph. That's very strange, you know: there just aren't boy nymphs."
"What happened to him?"
"Oh I think he stayed with his mother and sisters. It worked out."
Edmund spends a moment musing on the adaptability of Narnians. It certainly saves a lot of bother.
"So when do fauns become old enough for sex?"
Tumnus runs an idle hand down his lover's chest. "About sixteen, usually. It happens in the spring - a young faun's chest becomes hairier, his prick larger and his voice deeper. He gains muscle and height quickly, and suddenly he is old enough to attend the moonlight revels. It is faster than your human patterns of growth.
"On the first spring full moon - or the second, if the first is very early in the season - the dryads will begin to tap softly on the boles of their trees. The noise will wind through the forest as more and more dryads begin to tap. The fauns come out of their caves and begin to dance - long winding chains of fauns, catching the hands of all those who come out to play, until they meet in one of the revel clearings to dance the great circle dances. Older fauns play pipes and the youngsters curl up with their friends chattering until they fall asleep, while the adults dance and play and slip into the forest to touch each other and bring each other pleasure. Most people will have made a small gift to exchange - a garland of flowers, a bracelet of pretty nuts or the like - and these tokens are treasured.
"When the morning comes, the forest around the clearing is strewn with happy people, leaning into each other for one last kiss before returning to their own dens, trees or streams. Some will be vowing to meet again, others simply savouring the pleasures of the night before. This is the natural life of a faun."
Tumnus looks sad. "Few babies were born to us during the long winter, and those caught on the cusp of maturity had a hard time of it when spring never came. Most eventually matured, but coming to maturity in winter is unnatural for fauns, and their health will suffer for it, the wise ones say. I was fortunate to mature during the last spring before the Witch came."
Edmund's jaw drops. "How OLD are you?" It snaps out as an accusation. Edmund doesn't mean it that way, but his shock is palpable.
Tumnus bites his lip. "We live long, my king. I am one hundred and twenty years old."
The king's face is blank. For a long moment he stares at the faun at his side with what might be awe. "Lion's teeth, I can see why you didn't wait for me!"
The two in the bed regard each other solemnly for a breath before bursting into laughter.
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