THROUGH THE VOID
Another idea for another Tumnus/Terence story. I noticed that with a lot of my stories, it's usually Terence who suffers the brunt of things. He's usually the one to get knocked out and battered about. Then I wondered what it would be like if the tables were turned, and it was Tumnus who needed Terence's help. That got the wheels in my head turning!
Cookies for the nice reviewers, and anyone who flames me gets the boot. A big, old, dirty, smelly fisherman's boot, to be exact. Yeah, I picked that gag up from Spongebob Squarepants.
Characters (except Terence) © C.S. Lewis and Disney/Walden Media
Terence and Story © unicorn-skydancer08
All rights reserved.
CHAPTER 1
"We really shouldn't be here, Terence," Tumnus said apprehensively. "I don't feel good about this, at all."
"Oh, come on, Tumnus!" chided Terence. "Where's your spirit of adventure?"
"To be frank, Terence, this isn't my idea of 'adventure'."
Terence shook his head, and said again, "Come on, mate—do something brave and daring, for once in your life!"
But brave and daring were the last things Tumnus wanted to be. The faun would much rather be home right now, sitting by the fire in his cozy cave, drinking tea while enjoying a good book. But, instead, he found himself climbing up the wall of a steep, rugged mountain with his best friend Terence, a graceful and exceedingly handsome young man with shining white hair, who was a unicorn in human disguise. It was Terence's idea to scale this big mountain; Tumnus didn't even know why he let Terence talk him into this in the first place.
For that matter, he couldn't understand why he always allowed himself to be dragged into these precarious situations.
Terence agilely swung himself up onto a narrow ledge. When Tumnus got close enough himself, Terence reached down and grabbed the faun's outstretched hand, and hauled his mate up onto the ledge with him. Tumnus dared to look over his shoulder, to see how far he and Terence had come. When he saw just how high off the ground they were, he immediately became so dizzy that he had to seize onto Terence's front to keep from toppling over. Terence obligingly took hold of Tumnus by his thick red scarf, and pulled the faun away from the edge.
"Careful," the young man cautioned, "that would be a very nasty fall, indeed."
Huddling closer to Terence, clinging fervently to him, Tumnus besought the youth, "Terence, please, I am begging you, let's turn back now, while we still have a chance!"
"But we're nearly there, mate," Terence assured him. Looking up towards the peak, he went on, "You see that? We only have about another hundred feet to go, before we reach the top."
"We'll never make it!"
"Nonsense," Terence replied nonchalantly. "You're only saying that because no one has actually made it all the way to the top…and lived to tell about it."
"But it's dangerous!" Tumnus protested.
"I know—that's what makes it so thrilling! Danger's half the fun in an adventure, mate." Terence laid his hand on Tumnus's head and ruffled the faun's thick, blonde-streaked curls in playful affection. "We'll be all right," the young man promised, "I guarantee it." Then he looked down at himself, and asked, somewhat dryly, "Now, would you mind letting go of me, please?"
Tumnus slowly relinquished his grip on Terence, but he made sure to keep extremely close to his companion as they set off once more.
"I declare, Tumnus," Terence told him at length, "I have never met anyone as squirrelly as you, in all my life. Would you just relax? Everything is going to be okay."
"Easy for you to say," Tumnus mumbled, as he kept his gaze fixed upon his hooves, making sure he didn't take any tragic missteps.
That was one of the major differences between the two of them. Tumnus was the quiet, thoughtful, reserved, keep-your-distance type, while Terence was more zestful and bold, with an adventurer's streak and a thirst for excitement, and a desire to live life to the very fullest. Terence didn't seem afraid of anyone or anything, from Tumnus's perspective, and he was not afraid to show it. Tumnus had long since lost count of the number of times he advised Terence to be careful, or the number of times he said, "I don't think this is a very good idea."
More than half the time, he might as well have preached to the wind.
It wasn't that Terence was deliberately trying to be unruly or rebellious. But he was young, with a strong heart and a free spirit, and he resented anything that restrained him, or got in his way. He was not a tame unicorn, after all; doubtless he was not a tame man, either.
As for Terence, he was very fond of Tumnus, and regarded the faun as a brother—but he wished Tumnus would learn to lighten up, to not be so timid all the time. For heaven's sake, the faun was practically afraid of his own shadow! Terence had to laugh and roll his eyes at the absurdity of it all.
If only Tumnus showed a little more grit, developed a little more backbone, their expeditions would be a whole lot more enjoyable, for the both of them.
The two friends soon reached a chasm in the crags, where it was a considerable distance to the other side. The only way to get across was to jump. Terence, being half-unicorn, with long, nimble legs, had no trouble at all. He simply sprinted ahead of Tumnus, leaped as gracefully as a deer into the air, and he landed perfectly on his feet on the other side. Tumnus, on the contrary, hesitated at the edge. "Let's go, Tumnus!" Terence called over his shoulder. But even as Terence was off again, Tumnus still dawdled for another minute or so.
Tumnus peered tentatively over the edge, and saw it was a long way indeed to the bottom of the gorge. The walls were quite abrupt and uneven, and there were many sharp, jagged rocks. Tumnus could only imagine what it would be like to take a plunge like that. He struggled to gulp down the hard lump that had lodged painfully in his throat. Almost involuntarily, his hands began to twist and wring the end of his crimson muffler. Then, looking up at the jump ahead, he leveled his ears and furrowed his brow in determination.
If Terence could get across there so easily, so could he. "It's no big deal," the faun murmured to himself. "Anybody can make a leap like that. I'll simply have to not look down when I do it…"
Tumnus began to back a few steps, drawing in several long, self-rousing breaths as he did so.
"One," he whispered, "two…three!" As soon as "three" had sprung from his lips, he launched into a full-fledged run.
He sucked in one final breath as he neared the edge of the cliff, gathered up all his stride—and jumped.
He experienced but a split moment of sheer terror as he felt himself flying through the air, over the dreaded drop.
Unlike Terence, Tumnus only just barely made it to the other side. When the faun landed, he landed so close to the rim that part of the shelf actually began to crumble beneath his weight.
Tumnus could feel himself swaying and teetering precariously. He immediately began flailing his arms about wildly, trying to preserve his balance. At the sound of the faun's anxious cries, Terence stopped and turned back. Upon sight of his mate and the hazardous position he was in, Terence's eyes widened in genuine alarm, and he gasped out loud.
"Tumnus!" he said urgently, as he promptly bolted toward him.
But before he had quite reached the faun, Tumnus ended up toppling off the edge altogether—and was gone.
"TUMNUS!" Terence shouted with all his heart and soul, as he watched his mate fall.
All Tumnus could do was scream his lungs out as he plummeted through the air like a brick…and then his dreadful screams were cut short when he hit the rocks, and tumbled and somersaulted the rest of the way down the precipice, the unfriendly rocks giving him a very sound battering.
Terence, who'd dropped to his hands and knees on the edge, shut his eyes tightly and hid them briefly in his hand.
When he finally dared to withdraw his hand and open his eyes again, he could just barely make out Tumnus's prone, lifeless form at the bottom of the bluff. Terence felt his whole body go entirely numb with shock at what he was seeing, what he had just seen. Waves of devastating grief swelled within his heart, even as ice-cold horror chilled his stomach.
"Tumnus!" he wailed a third time, the name ripping from his throat like a sob.
And the whole mountain rang with an eerie chorus of: "Tumnus…Tumnus…Tumnus…"
Terence hurried down the mountainside as fast as he could. He slid and skidded on the steep slope, sending out a fine shower of rocks and dirt, his heart lodged in his mouth the whole time. He could only imagine Tumnus's state, when he found him. It took forever, but when Terence at long last made it to the bottom himself, and stood on more level ground, he began searching the area desperately for Tumnus's body. Dear heaven above, the young man prayed feverishly, don't let Tumnus be dead. Oh, please, please don't let him be dead!
If Tumnus was dead, if any irrevocable harm had come to the faun…Terence was at a loss of what he would do. The thought was too ghastly to even consider, and Terence's whole being rebelled against it. Tumnus had to be all right, he just had to be! Although, if anyone could survive a fall like that, it would be a miracle…
It didn't take very long to track Tumnus down. When Terence finally found him, he never hesitated to rush to his side.
Tumnus remained exactly where he had come to rest, never moving, never making a sound. He didn't even groan. He just lay there, sprawled flat on his front, his arms stretched out in front of him, his face driven into the dirt. Miraculously, his jaunty red scarf still encircled his shoulders. Terence saw that the naked skin on the faun's upper half was seriously bruised, scratched, welted, and bleeding, but not too badly. Beyond that, nothing appeared to be broken, or twisted unnaturally. That was one mercy, at the very least.
"Tumnus?" said Terence tentatively, as he stood over his beloved mate. "Tumnus? Can you hear me, mate?"
Tumnus did not answer. Terence slowly knelt at Tumnus's side, and dared to lay a hand on his bare, battered back. Tumnus did not recoil, or react in any way, but his skin was warm to the touch—much warmer than Terence expected. This was another hopeful sign, and Terence dared to breathe just a little more freely.
"Tumnus?" he repeated solicitously. "Tumnus, are you okay? Are you all right? Say something, mate. Talk to me…please."
But Tumnus would not speak, and he still wouldn't move. Terence shook him a number of times and called his name repeatedly, yet the faun didn't do anything.
Ultimately, Terence gently but resolutely grabbed hold of Tumnus's shoulders and turned the faun over, so that he could see his face. The youth took care to support his companion's head and neck with his arm. Tumnus's eyes were revealed to be closed; he may have very well been simply sleeping, were it not for the appalling bruise under his eye, the dozen or so scratches that scored his cheeks and forehead, and the ribbon of blood that streaked one side of his face. Terence gingerly touched one side of Tumnus's throat, and was glad that he could still feel a pulse. The slight rise and fall of Tumnus's chest indicated he was still breathing, too, if somewhat erratically. Oh, thank God, he's still alive, Terence thought as he let out his breath in a tremulous sigh, while tears welled in his bright sapphire eyes, and just a little more feeling returned to his arms and legs.
But, why wouldn't the faun wake up?
"Tumnus," Terence said yet again, giving Tumnus's face a gentle slap. "Tumnus, wake up. Come on, mate, wake up! Oh, please, wake up!"
Tumnus would not wake. He only lay there in Terence's arms, as limp and lifeless as a sodden rag.
Terence lightly stroked his friend's face with his free hand, willing him to react, knowing how much Tumnus hated to be tickled; but Tumnus didn't even flinch. When Terence lifted the faun's hand, it just dropped heavily to the ground again. The tears that had sprung up within Terence's eyes now began to overflow, and spill like clouds spilling rain. They streamed warmly and steadily down Terence's face, some of them landing directly on Tumnus's own face. Even then, the faun was not roused, and continued to lay as still as death.
"Oh, Tumnus," Terence whispered, his voice and heart cracking simultaneously. "Tumnus…please…"
Even if Tumnus was alive, something must be very wrong with him, if he was not moving or making any form of response.
He would never leave Terence in the lurch like this.
"Tumnus," Terence groaned one last time, while in his heart, he lamented, What have I done?
This was all his fault, the white-haired youth knew. If it hadn't been for him, if he hadn't so foolishly dragged Tumnus into this, they wouldn't be in this situation.
Oh, how Terence wished he had listened to Tumnus, right from the start!
Tumnus had told him and told him, repeatedly, that this was a bad idea…and he all but brushed off the faun's words of warning. How Terence regretted his flippant attitude.
He regretted it, as he regretted few other things in his life. How could he have been so stupid? His carelessness just about cost Tumnus his very life.
The guilt that flooded Terence's whole being at this awareness was beyond description. It burned like a fire within him; it crawled over his very skin like live snakes; it enveloped him like water, clogging his throat and nearly suffocating him on the spot. The flow of tears running down Terence's face thickened, and the young man leaned down and embraced his friend gently, whispering contritely into his ear, "I'm sorry, mate. I'm so sorry." It was a grievous understatement, and incredibly trite, but those were the only words Terence could find to say.
Whether or not Tumnus heard him, he didn't know, for the faun made no sign of it.
Terence knew he had to get his friend to Castle Cair Paravel at once, to Lucy, Susan, Edmund, and Peter, and all the others. They would know what to do. But it was a long walk from here to the Cair, and Tumnus was in no condition to walk. Terence would have to carry him all the way himself. It would not be a simple task, considering Tumnus's size and weight, but Terence knew he had no other alternative. This was the least he could do for his poor friend anyway, considering what he'd put him through…the absolute least.
So, after just a bit of struggling, Terence managed to lift Tumnus up completely into his arms, and get to his feet.
He grunted a little with the effort; this would have been so much easier if he were in his unicorn shape. He would have been able to carry Tumnus with no problem. Tumnus's arms and legs hung like limp noodles as Terence bore him up, while his head lolled pathetically to one side. "It's all right," Terence told him, "I've got you, Tumnus. I'm never going to let you go."
Thus, the long, lonely journey to Cair Paravel began.