MY NOBLE BROTHER
Though Frodo and Sam are my most favorite characters from "The Lord of the Rings" (I haven't touched my story "An Unbroken Covenant" for quite some time), I love Pippin and Merry, too. Undoubtedly, the best scene between them is when Pippin finds Merry on the battlefield in "Return of the King", and he runs to him. Merry asks if Pippin will leave him, and Pippin assures his friend he'll stay with him and take care of him.
As far as I'm concerned, only a true friend, a true brother, would make such a promise.
I decided to put Terence and Tumnus in a similiar situation. Enjoy yourselves, mates, and leave me with a nice review, if you'd be so kind!
For the record, this was also partly inspired by the wonderful "Phileo Se", by Petraverd. It's a Narnia fic between Tirian and Jewel; you should read it sometime when you get the chance. It's short, but mighty powerful.
Characters (except Terence) © C.S. Lewis and Disney/Walden Media
Terence and Story © unicorn-skydancer08
All rights reserved.
"For Narnia, and for Aslan!" This was the mantra of young High King Peter and his army as they fought valiantly against their enemies.
The day was bright and cloudless, unusual weather for a day of war.
The air resounded with the harsh clang of swords and the hiss of arrows as they hurtled through the air. Fur flew and blood flowed as tigers, lions, bears, dogs, and wolves tore savagely at one another. The earth quivered under the stampede of rampant centaurs, horses, satyrs, and fauns, as well as minotaurs and ogres. Astride his mighty horse Ares, Peter made his way swiftly through the horde of rebels, using Rhindon to cut down all in his path.
Oreius, Peter's second-in-command, was every bit as fierce and unremitting in his warfare, if not more so.
Even the faun Tumnus, along with his friend Terence, the unicorn, played a significant role. Most people would hardly consider Tumnus the warrior type, but the faun showed just as much courage in that battle as the rest of the army. Unlike the Battle of Beruna, he was garbed in proper armor this time, and he wielded a sword of his very own. Terence, being a unicorn, was in no need of armor, and of course he did not belong to Narnia—not by birth, anyway—but the young stallion was willing to sacrifice his life for the land, and for his friends. The magnificent white beast wove skillfully through the massive crowds, his gold horn flashing brilliantly as he used it to slash, jab, and strike his foes. His sharp hooves proved to be useful as well.
At one point, Tumnus found himself locked in a deadly duel with a minotaur that was at least twice his strength, and well over three times his size. Though the faun managed to parry most of the blows, the minotaur ended up wounding him severely in the side, where his armor did not protect him nearly as well. Tumnus let out a piercing wail of agony, and his sword dropped to the ground as he bent over and clutched his flank, which was already bleeding freely.
The minotaur then took advantage of the moment to strike a savage blow to Tumnus's head. Had Tumnus not been wearing his helmet, the blow would undoubtedly have been the end of him.
Though it did not kill him, it did cause him to spiral off-balance, and he was unfortunate enough to have been standing at the edge of a small rock face at that time.
As a result, he took a bad tumble downhill, receiving a sound battering before ultimately coming to a rest at the bottom.
As he lay there, face pressed into the grass, struggling for breath while indescribable pain pulsed through his body, a man-wolf began to slowly advance on him.
The monstrous beast, which resembled a man that had begun to turn into a wolf but stopped halfway through the process, licked its black lips obscenely as it regarded its fallen victim.
When Tumnus managed to lift his head and look up, he gasped in genuine terror at the sight of the looming creature. Yet there was nothing he could do to defend himself, not without a weapon. He couldn't even run away, due to his wounds, and his right leg had been badly sprained and could never hold him anyway. All he could do was lie there and watch helplessly as the man-wolf closed in for the kill.
"Tumnus!" a familiar voice cried nearby, at that very moment.
Then, in a flash of pearly white, Terence entered the fray.
The unicorn took a great leap and sailed cleanly over Tumnus, landing between him and the man-wolf. With a savage whinny that rent Tumnus's ears, Terence reared up and pawed furiously at the air with his front hooves. The man-wolf shrank back at first, but only a short time later its hideous face twisted into a nasty snarl, and it lunged directly at the unicorn to strike back. Terence was only barely able to dodge the razor-sharp claws and murderous fangs.
Tumnus quickly covered his face, as if he couldn't bear to watch, though he peeked apprehensively through his trembling fingers.
Terence whirled around and kicked out with his back feet this time, but the man-wolf knew what was coming and evaded the kick at the last second.
Now Terence pivoted the other way again.
The unicorn's ears were pinned firmly against his skull, and there was a look of such terrible ferocity on the stallion's handsome face, his bright sapphire eyes blazing, that even Tumnus was a little afraid of him. Trumpeting another challenge, Terence reared up a second time, his hooves slashing through the air like golden razors. His horn was a plume of fire on his brow. Even his mane, which had caught the wind, seemed to take on a mind of its own.
The man-wolf backed a step or two, but stood its ground.
When Terence lunged at his enemy, his horn aiming for the monster's black heart, the man-wolf managed to avoid the death blow—but the sharp tip of Terence's horn sliced it clear across the shoulder, leaving a long, bloody gash. The man-wolf reacted with a spine-chilling howl and staggered briefly, but when it looked at its wound and saw the jagged streaks of blood, its face contorted once more in fury. It glared murderously at Terence and hissed at him, baring its ugly yellow fangs.
Terence lowered his head defiantly in reply. Tumnus saw one of the unicorn's front hooves paw at the earth a number of times, gouging up dirt.
As fearful as Tumnus was for Terence's life, he had to admire the stallion's bravery, and it moved the faun to no small degree that Terence was willing to give his life for him.
It was one thing to die for the sake of Narnia; to die for the sake of a friend was quite something else.
"You will not touch him, you filth!" Terence vowed. "Lay so much as a claw on Tumnus, and I'll cut you in two!"
"Insolent horse," the man-wolf answered in a low, guttural voice that turned Tumnus's blood to ice. "I'll kill you and your little goat friend, and leave your rotting carcasses for the crows."
As Terence surged forward once more, the man-wolf leaped almost straight up into the air to avoid him. When Terence spun the other way, his opponent was nowhere to be seen.
Stunned, bewildered, Terence stood still on the spot and glanced about from here to there.
"Terence—look out!" Tumnus shouted anxiously from where he lay.
And Terence looked, just in time to see the man-wolf vault from an overhanging projection of rock, directly onto the unicorn's back.
Terence gave out a raucous squeal of surprise and pain as the piercing claws sank deep into his hide and flesh. Immediately the stallion began to plunge and rear and leap about in all directions, trying with all his might to throw his opponent off. But the man-wolf only dug in deeper and held on. Gritting his teeth, Terence swerved about even more wildly. He veered from the left to the right, from the right to the left.
He bounded, he leapt to the sky—he tried everything to get the monster off his back.
At first it was no use, and Tumnus feared that his poor friend was really done for this time.
Then finally, as a last resort, Terence flung himself entirely to the ground, in a dangerous fall that precious few unicorns, horses, and centaurs would even attempt, throwing every ounce of his weight onto the man-wolf.
As they hit the earth, the force of the blow was enough to render the man-wolf senseless for a brief time. By the time it recovered, Terence was already back on his feet. The white stallion now stood directly over the brute on his hind legs, his forehooves once more hovering in midair. Knowing what was about to happen, the man-wolf hastily rolled to one side just as Terence came crashing to all fours, his hooves missing its face by a mere inch.
Ultimately, when the man-wolf realized that Terence could overpower it, it turned tail and slunk away like a frightened dog.
Terence pursued it for a short time, whinnying viciously and snapping his teeth, before at last stopping altogether and watching his adversary flee. When the beast was finally gone for good, Terence blew out a triumphant snort through his nostrils.
Right after that, Tumnus fainted, being overcome with relief—and the pain of his wounds, particularly the wound in his side, having caught up with him.
Terence, paying no mind to the sting of his own wounds, headed directly for Tumnus at once. His countenance softened as he approached the faun, and he spoke in an unusually quiet and gentle voice. "Tumnus? Tumnus, are you all right?"
When Tumnus did not answer, Terence lowered his head to his mate's level. He nudged Tumnus lightly with his snout.
Nothing happened.
"Tumnus," the young stallion repeated softly, almost desperately. "Speak to me, my friend."
Still, Tumnus neither moved nor spoke.
Terence soon discovered the faun's slashed flank, and he forthwith touched him with the tip of his horn to heal him.
There was a short yet intense flash of gold, and the wound disappeared completely, along with the blood, the flesh closing over smoothly and becoming whole again.
But even after that, Tumnus continued to remain unmoving.
Terence's ears drooped, and the unicorn bowed his head, letting out a faint bleat of despair. Very slowly, he stepped closer and rubbed his face against Tumnus's, spilling his long, silky, silvery mane over the lifeless faun as he did so. At one point, he went so far as to put forth his tongue to give the faun's cheek a gentle lick.
Unable to bring himself to leave Tumnus, the stallion knelt beside him and began to thrust his head beneath Tumnus's body in a peculiar way. Slowly, little by little, he managed to scoop the limp, inert faun onto his back. When at last he stood on all fours again, Tumnus lay over the unicorn's back and shoulders, one arm and leg trailing down either side, his head lolling hopelessly from his neck.
Terence then swiftly whisked him away. Moving at a fleet, determined gallop, the unicorn skirted the battle, which raged as hotly as ever, to seek help.
Like an underwater swimmer making for the surface, Tumnus gradually but progressively made his way through the layers of unconsciousness that enveloped him, until he reached the point where he was able to open his eyes.
At first, the faun didn't recognize his surroundings. There was red and gold all around him, and he found himself sprawled on a makeshift bed, covered with a heavy, coarse blanket. It was a minute before Tumnus realized he was in one of the tents, back at the camp. Like water seeping through a break in a dam, everything came trickling back into memory. Where was Terence?
Where was his best friend, his brother?
Was he all right? Was he safe? Tumnus recalled watching Terence fight to protect him from the man-wolf, but then he didn't know what happened after that.
The faun tried to sit up, but although his wounds had been healed—thanks to Terence's horn, and Queen Lucy's miraculous fireflower potion—the abrupt movement sent a wave of dizziness washing over him, forcing him back down onto the pillow.
Tumnus closed his eyes and placed a hand over them, breathing in slowly, waiting for the world to stop spinning.
At that moment, he felt a soft warmth on his cheek.
When he removed his hand from his face and opened his eyes again, he saw, to his joy, relief, and profound gratitude, Terence's sweet blue eyes gazing back at him.
Normally they wouldn't have allowed Terence in here, but apparently they had—or else the unicorn had sneaked in when no one was looking.
Terence said nothing, but his face revealed his concern for Tumnus. Very slowly, he eased himself to the ground, folding his legs neatly under his body. No sooner had the unicorn lain down than Tumnus slid out of bed, crawled over (since he couldn't very well walk, let alone stand or sit upright), and lay against the young stallion's flank, sinking deep into the warm, silken hide. Almost involuntarily, the faun's arms, still encased in their sturdy leather vambraces, wound around his companion's neck, and he buried his grimy face in the cloud-soft mane. Terence remained very still and allowed his friend to cling to him like this. Tumnus felt the unicorn nuzzle him gently, blowing warm breath into his hair.
"Terence," was all Tumnus could say, in a voice thick and garbled by emotion.
"So, you have come back to us at last, friend," the unicorn crooned into the faun's ear. "It's about time, too. We were beginning to fear the worst."
"How long have I been here?" Tumnus asked, lifting his face somewhat to look at his beloved mate more properly.
"A good while," was all Terence would tell him.
"Are you…are you all right?" asked Tumnus, somewhat fearfully.
"That's a question I ought to be asking you," Terence countered. "I could have very well lost you."
"And I could have very well lost you, Terence. That man-wolf could have cut you to ribbons."
"He would have had to do so, before I'd let him anywhere near you."
Those last words were enough to shake Tumnus to his roots. Tears sparkled in his teal-blue eyes like unearthed diamonds, and the muscles in his throat tightened until he could scarcely breathe. He was at an utter loss for words, but Terence understood. He gently licked Tumnus's forehead with his pleasantly warm tongue, and Tumnus placed his hands on either side of the unicorn's face and bowed his forehead fervently against the stallion's velvet muzzle.
His tears fell without restraint, but he made no attempt to wipe them away or stem the flow.
The two friends remained close together in that spot for a long time; how long, exactly, neither of them knew nor cared in the slightest.
Tumnus stroked and fondled Terence almost continuously, twining his hands in the lavish mane, while Terence played with the faun's honey curls and even took a playful nibble at his ear, causing Tumnus to laugh in spite of himself.
Presently, Tumnus asked in a soft whisper, his eyes still wet and brimming with tears, "Are you going to leave me?"
"No, Tumnus," Terence answered, just as softly. "I'm going to look after you."
Not so many years later, Tumnus and Terence found themselves together in the heat of battle once again.
Only this time, instead of a unicorn, Terence was in the form of a tall, lithe, exceptionally handsome young man with silvery-white hair and a silvery-white beard. That meant he sported his own suit of armor—complete with a sleeveless tabard embroidered with gold, a long-sleeved mail coat with a hooded coif, plate armor with pauldrons on his shoulders, vambraces on his forearms, greaves on his legs, and a splendid basinet-style helmet with a folding visor over his head—and wielded his own weapons. Tumnus wore armor similar to the kind he wore before: plate armor covered in stiff, maroon leather over a quilted tunic, a broad breastplate with wide shoulder caps, large maroon vambraces, and a helmet with long cheek pieces and openings for his ears and horns. In one hand, he clutched a large shield, while in the other he waved around a splendid new sword.
The battle they waged now was not so different from the one years back, except they weren't battling men-wolves, minotaurs, and ogres. Now they were battling human men—Telmarines and Calormenes, they were called, men from beyond Narnia's borders. Though the people of Telmar and Calormen had little use for each other, there were two things they agreed wholly on: an impassioned hatred for the Narnians, and a fiery desire to overthrow the Narnian empire.
It had reached the point where Narnia was compelled to call on Archenland for assistance, and Archenland had risen to the occasion magnificently.
At one end of the valley, Peter, now a grown man, commanded the left flank; while at the other end, King Lune, the ruler of Archenland, in spite of his advanced age, maintained control of the right flank. Edmund could be seen fighting boldly alongside Peter, astride his ever-faithful steed Phillip. Even Lucy and Susan took part in the combat. Susan stuck mainly with the archers, while Lucy rode her own bay mount through the area like the wind and relied on her sword.
Lucy thanked her lucky stars that she had worked hard at her training, and she was surprised she was able to remember all the necessary moves in the midst of all this pandemonium.
Wild shouts of death rent the air, along with the din of the clashing weapons, as the opposing armies merged like the waves of the sea.
Terence, though no longer a unicorn, was nevertheless as capable a fighter as all the rest. He easily took down any who advanced on him, and he casually dodged the death blows aimed at him.
"Come on, you can do better than that!" he often taunted his enemies. "You fight like a pixie!"
His enemies were not at all amused by this insolent youth's cheek, but when it came to fighting, they couldn't deny he had unusual skill and style. Even the most accomplished swordsmen were taken by surprise.
One of the Telmarines dared to say to the boy's face, "You are not like other men."
"You can say that again," Terence answered haughtily, before using his sword to make a home thrust.
Tumnus, contrary to his mild-mannered character, was like an untamed dragon out on the field. He showed little to no mercy to those who opposed him.
Yet, unlike his enemies, he fought not for power or personal gain; but for his life, his people, and above all else, for his lord Aslan. The faun fought with a strength beyond his own, as if Aslan himself resided within his heart.
At length, Tumnus and Terence inadvertently backed into each other.
At the feel of someone behind, they both whipped around at the same time, swords at the ready. But when they saw each other, recognized each other, they immediately retracted their swords.
"Oh, Terence," Tumnus sighed with relief. "It's only you."
"You all right, Tumnus?" Terence asked. His concern was genuine.
"I'm all right—for now, anyway. You?"
"Well, my head's still attached, and I'm still living and breathing, so I'll take that as a good omen."
Tumnus smiled somewhat at his friend's weak joke.
Then Terence's expression changed, and he hollered urgently, "Hey, watch out!"
Before Tumnus could react in any way, Terence shoved him, rather roughly, to one side. Tumnus ended up losing his balance and falling to the ground, landing with a heavy grunt on his front.
It turned out Terence had good reason for pushing him the way he did, for one of the Calormenes had sneaked up on Tumnus from the rear, prepared to slay the faun while his back was turned. But Terence saw what was coming and responded just in time. No sooner had the white-haired youth jostled Tumnus out of the way than he struck out at the two-faced Calormene himself, and ended up knocking his enemy's sword away and knocking the man flat as well.
As the stunned soldier lay on his back, Terence stood over him, pointed his sword directly at his neck, and coldly informed him, "I don't like a man who attacks when his foe's back is facing him."
He could have easily killed the man on the spot, but he chose to let him go instead. The Calormene never hesitated to scramble to his feet and flee, like a sheep fleeing a wolf.
Terence now turned his attention to Tumnus, who had seen it all happen. "Are you all right?" the young man gently asked a second time, holding out his hand to help Tumnus to his feet.
"Yes," Tumnus said, accepting the hand gratefully. "Thank you, Terence. You saved my life…again."
"No problem, mate," was all the youth said in reply.
"If we both survive this—" Tumnus began, but Terence cut him off.
"Save it. Now's neither the time nor the place to stand around idly and talk."
Tumnus knew he was right, so the faun didn't hesitate to resume his position in battle. Terence did likewise.
I will not weary you with endless details of the remainder of the fighting, but the Narnians began to slowly yet surely gain an advantage over the rebel armies. In time, the Telmarines and Calormenes started to lose heart and give way. The Narnians, along with their supporters, drove them all the way to a vast river, where only a single, crude bridge permitted access to the other side. Terence and Tumnus were among those who set foot on the bridge as they continued to exchange blows.
Atop one of the hills that overlooked the river, a good number of archers from the rebel side fired a good number of arrows at the Narnians that buzzed through the air like a thousand flies. Terence experienced a sharp, stinging jolt in his left shoulder as one of those arrows scored a hit on him. The shock was enough to make the young man drop his sword on the spot. Then the Telmarine soldier with whom Terence had been sparring saw his chance and forthwith took a merciless swing at the youth's head, landing a crushing blow. Though Terence wore his helmet, he was knocked entirely off balance and went spiraling into the river below.
There was a tremendous splash, sending up a fine white spray—and Terence was gone.
"Terence!" Tumnus yelled to high heaven, having seen all of this with his own eyes.
He wasted no time. Even though the faun wasn't much of a swimmer, Tumnus sucked in a mighty breath and threw himself off the bridge, armor and all, plunging under the water like a stone.
The water was very deep and, notwithstanding the heat of the day, very cold—far much colder than Tumnus expected.
At first, everything was a mere swirl of blue and green, and Tumnus heard nothing except the strange hum of the water that filled his ears. He felt himself sink steadily as his armor weighed him down. Large spumes of bubbles escaped his mouth and nostrils as he let his breath out. For a fleeting moment, Tumnus felt nothing but sheer panic, but courage and determination strengthened him, and he resolutely lifted his arms and somehow managed to drive himself to the surface. Just as he was about to black out from the lack of oxygen, he broke through the water, into the open air. The fresh, clear air greeted him like a slap to the face, and he sucked it in avidly.
As he gulped his fill, he glanced ahead and saw a motionless figure in the near distance, floating facedown.
It was Terence, all right. Tumnus knew by the type of armor and the shining white hair—as well as the tail of the arrow that jutted above the water.
As Terence floated freely, the strong current proceeded to sweep him away. Without a moment to lose, Tumnus gathered all his strength and began to swim after him, flailing the water wildly with his arms and hooves.
The current pushing him from behind helped some, but he kept slipping under, which made it increasingly difficult to take in the essential air.
In the meantime, on the dry bank, Oreius took notice of what was happening in the river.
When he recognized Tumnus, the centaur's eyes widened in astonishment and horror, and he gasped aloud. Regardless of the war that was yet raging, even though he knew he would be needed, the man-horse knew he couldn't allow the faun to drown, either. So, without a half-second's hesitation, Oreius took off at a swift gallop along the embankment, racing the swift flow of the river, running as he had never run in his life. He strained his aching legs to the utmost limit, barely feeling the earth beneath his hooves. Tumnus was too busy trying to get to Terence to notice Oreius, while at the same time struggling to keep his head above water.
Meanwhile, the current continued to grow stronger.
The water churned and swirled relentlessly; pure white foam sprayed in every imaginable direction. Several big rocks protruded from the water, which Tumnus was hurled unmercifully against more than once.
Ultimately, Tumnus was able to catch up with Terence, and he managed to grab onto him, but they ended up simply going under together.
No matter how hard Tumnus tried, he and Terence only sank further, until Tumnus couldn't hold his breath anymore, until he no longer had the strength, and he found himself slowly drifting into a sea of unconsciousness.
Yet just as he and Terence were on the verge of sinking into total oblivion, something grabbed them both and hauled them upward.
When Tumnus regained his senses sometime later, he found himself sprawled on his front, on the gloriously solid, dry land, with somebody pushing down gently but firmly on his back.
With every thrust, a substantial amount of water spurted from his mouth.
Finally Tumnus launched into a violent fit of coughing and retching, which expelled the rest of the water in his lungs. He felt someone help him to a more upright position, and when he weakly raised his head, he found a dripping wet Oreius staring back at him. Oreius never said a word, but his concern for Tumnus, and his gratitude and relief that the faun was alive, showed clearly in his rugged face and cinnamon-brown eyes.
It took only a moment for Tumnus to realize what had happened. Remembering Terence, the faun glanced apprehensively about the surrounding area for his brother.
Sure enough, Terence was right next to him, lying silently on his face, unmoving and thoroughly drenched. As he had lost his helmet, his white hair gleamed vividly in the bright sun. The arrow with which he had been shot was still deeply embedded in his left shoulder, the feathered shaft standing straight up. It did not look to be a mortal wound, but it certainly appeared serious.
The more pressing matter was that the young man was not breathing at all.
Tumnus never once hesitated; he crawled over to Terence there and then, as he hadn't the strength to stand on his hooves.
Just as Oreius had done with him, he got on top of Terence and proceeded to push down vigorously yet carefully on the man's back, taking care to avoid touching his wounded shoulder.
Come on, Terence, his heart pleaded when Terence made no immediate response, live! Please, for the love of Aslan, don't die on me!
Surely Terence could not be dead now. Surely fate could not be so cruel…
After a few more intense moments, however, water began to spill out of Terence's mouth. Then, to Tumnus's blessed relief, Terence gave a noticeable jerk, and an audible gagging noise sounded from him. As Tumnus hastily got off him, the unicorn youth continued to heave and convulse, and, just like the faun, coughed out the remainder of the water himself. So overcome with relief and joy was Tumnus that he felt almost lightheaded.
"Thank the Lion," the faun whispered aloud, his voice trembling, feeling a warm wetness in his eyes.
Oreius let out a profound sigh of relief himself.
Even after Terence had settled down and was breathing again, albeit a little raggedly, he remained quiescent on the ground, and his eyes remained closed.
"Terence?" said Tumnus softly as he bent over his friend. "Terence, can you hear me? Are you all right?"
The boy said nothing. His face was pasty white when Tumnus lifted it gently to his own. Absently, Tumnus brushed the boy's damp hair back from his eyes, but the boy did not stir.
"Terence," the faun pleaded again. "Terence—it's me, mate. Say something, speak to me. Please."
Still, nothing happened.
"He needs help," Oreius said, speaking verbally for the first time. Kneeling beside Terence and Tumnus, he instructed, "Here, get him on my back. You get up, too, Tumnus."
Tumnus was a little surprised; people hardly ever rode centaurs, unless the circumstances were very dire.
But he took Oreius up on his offer, without hesitation or protest.
He grunted slightly as he heaved Terence onto Oreius's horse half before mounting the centaur himself. Once Oreius was sure both Terence and Tumnus could stay on his back, he ascended to all fours and galloped away as fast as he had the strength left to do. Tumnus, with Terence safe in his arms, managed to hold on the entire ride, though he found the centaur's gait quite rough and bumpy, compared to the smooth, easy glide of a unicorn.
After what must have been an eternity, Terence felt his life slowly returning.
The youth sensed he was lying on something remarkably soft, with something warm and heavy spread over him. There was an unusually pleasant taste in his mouth, as if he had just eaten the world's sweetest, most delicious fruit.
Like a butterfly beating its wings, the boy's eyes flitted open. Degree by degree, the world came swimming into focus. A plane of vivid red stretched over his head, and for a brief moment he thought the sky had switched colors.
Then he realized it was the canopy of a tent.
Terence also found that he was, indeed, lying on a thick, soft bed. He had been completely stripped of his armor, and a thick blanket covered his body. The arrow was gone from his shoulder, yet to his amazement, he felt no pain. In fact, he didn't feel the least degree of pain in his entire body, though he was extremely tired, as if someone had sapped him of all his strength. Beyond that, Terence gradually became aware that he wasn't alone.
Turning his head to one side, sure enough, Tumnus was right there.
The faun sat on the edge of the bed, keeping him company. He was still garbed in his battle-scarred armor, though his helmet was gone, and his honey-brown curls spilled past his ears and hung over his brow in limp, matted tangles.
"Tumnus?" Terence hardly recognized his own voice.
A smile spread over Tumnus's weary face as he regarded his dear friend.
"I'm here, Terence," he assured the boy. Reaching out with one hand to lovingly touch Terence's face, he repeated softly, "I'm here."
"Where is 'here'?" Terence asked mutedly. "Where am I?"
"You're at camp, mate."
"Camp?"
Tumnus nodded. "The battle is over, Terence. And you're safe."
"The battle?" It was a minute before everything came trickling back into memory. "Did we win?"
"Yes," Tumnus was glad to say. "The Calormenes and Telmarines are defeated. With the help of Archenland, and the grace of Aslan, peace has been restored to Narnia once more."
"Is Lucy all right?" Terence asked, feeling a sudden jolt of anxiety. "What about Edmund? And Peter? And Susan?" He started to rise up from his bed, but Tumnus gently pushed him back into the mound of pillows.
"It's all right," the faun said mildly. "Everyone is perfectly all right. I'm just glad you are, Terence. You gave me quite a dreadful scare."
"You saved me, didn't you?" said Terence, as it dawned on him. "When I fell into the river, you came after me, didn't you?"
"Yes," said Tumnus simply.
"Can you swim?"
"Not very well," Tumnus admitted. "Had Oreius not intervened, we would both have drowned."
A strange look came over Terence's face. He looked almost ready to weep, there and then.
"You mean to say you were willing to risk your life, for my sake? You would have truly died in order to save me?"
"Of course, I would," said Tumnus, and there was an unmistakable tremor in his voice. "You're my brother, Terence—and I would gladly die, a thousand times, if it meant you would live."
This brought a burning sting of tears to Terence's sapphire eyes, and emotion closed the young man's throat. Tumnus's teal eyes shone diamond-bright with tears also, and one of those tears escaped and made a steady trail down his cheek. At a loss for words, Terence could only stretch a trembling hand toward the faun, and Tumnus immediately took it and held on tightly.
Tumnus managed to smile, and he gave out a slight chuckle as he added on, "Besides, you saved my life several times before. Obviously, I had to return the favor."
Terence couldn't help laughing a little himself, even as a tear slid down his own cheek.
The white-haired youth still couldn't think of anything appropriate to say, but Tumnus understood. He gave Terence's hand an affectionate squeeze and pressed a light kiss to his fingers.
"Are you going to leave me?" Terence asked at length.
Tumnus smiled at his own words, spoken right back to him, and he was now the one to give the answer:
"No, Terence. I'm going to look after you."