Night seemed to fall quickly over the Faun’s secluded little home. And it cleared away the cups and plates that they had used for the tea.
“Will you be staying tonight?” Tumnus asked.
Quintus considered this question for a moment, before saying, “Back into the cold or a night of warmth and comfort? I believe if it is not too much to ask I would beg your hospitality till the morning.”
“Oh it’s quite all right. I wouldn’t mind the company,” the Faun said with a smile.
It disappeared down the hall for a moment before returning with another blanket which Tumnus offered Quintus. Quintus accepted it and settled himself more comfortable on the low bench. The fire crackled comfortingly and for a time there was no sound except the harsh whistling of the wind outside and the popping of the fire.
Tumnus had settled across from Quintus with a small box in its lap. Its fingers stroked nervously over the surface and it kept glancing at Quintus.
“Do you wish to speak?” Quintus asked finally.
“Oh. I just like to play my pipes in the evening, but I didn’t wish to disturb you.”
“A bit of music might be nice. Play on, Tumnus.”
The Faun brightened visibly and opened the box, producing a small set of pipes. Tumnus set the box aside and raised the instrument to it’s lips. A beautiful haunting melody issued forth, filling the tiny residence with a calm peaceful feeling. And for a moment Quintus allowed himself to relax, to feel safe, to finally rest.