Disclaimer: While the attempt has been made to be medically accurate as far as is consistent with the fantasy world of Narnia, some artistic license has been taken, and statements made by Rawlstow are not to be regarded as authoritative.
Narnia and recognizable characters thereof are the property of the estate of C. S. Lewis; all original characters and story © 2018 FemaleChauvinist.

Do not post without permission. Do not copy/print without including the above disclaimer in its entirety.

A/N: My fox healer Rawlstow is introduced in my stories "Vulpes Medico: Winter's End" and "Vulpes Medico: Clever Fox," so you might wonder about some things if you haven't read those first. And, yes, Peter and Tumnus do come into this, but not until toward the end. Barbie

Chapter One: Slave Labour

The little faun had no idea how long he had been here, slaving in the mines of the north. How long had it been since he had seen the sun, or even the muted light of a snowy day? Like the Winter itself, it could have been a hundred years for all he knew. Before he had been captured, he had thought being turned to stone was the worst punishment possible, but it couldn't be as bad as this. Even if there was some consciousness of your frozen state — and no one knew; perhaps the part of you that was you simply vanished from existence — there wouldn't be the constant, aching pain in the stump of his tail; the maddening itchiness where his horns had been sawn off. He wouldn't be beaten until his back ran with blood; there wouldn't be sharp splinters of pain in his hooves with each step he took. He wouldn't be coughing; a deep, dry cough that made him falter and brought the lash down again on his back.

The labours for the day were over, though buried in the depths of the earth he had no way of knowing whether it was day or night, and had long since ceased to care.

He barely sipped at the weak broth he was offered, then nibbled at the hard bread until the dry crumbs made him cough; dipping it in the broth no longer occurred to his feverish mind. Tasting blood at the back of his throat, he laid the bread aside, not hungry enough to care when a dwarf appropriated it for his own.

The dwarves had it better than the other creatures here. At the very least, they liked mining and working underground; it didn't take the physical toll on them that it did on the little faun. Most of them were at least partially on the side of the Witch; though slaves as much as the rest, they served as spies and informants and overseers, and as such often had access to better food.

He lay curled in a miserable ball, feeling deeply chilled by the dampness of the mine though his body burned with fever. He was no longer sure whether he was awake or asleep when a small figure came up to him.

In the darkness of the mine he couldn't tell precisely what it was, but when it spoke its voice was that of one of the Talking Beasts of Narnia. "Get up. Come on, get up! Follow me!"

Dazedly the faun stumbled to his feet, no question in his mind of disobeying or even of wondering who this creature was or what it wanted. He was simply too tired and ill to care, and maybe this was all just a dream anyway.

He followed the creature through an abandoned mine shaft, the twists and turns dizzying to his fevered mind.

"Through here! Follow me!" The creature disappeared through a glowing crack in the wall, and the faun stared at it blearily for a moment, swaying slightly on his hooves.

Then he stepped forward and began to wiggle his way through. The crack was narrow even for him, the rough stone scraping horribly at the wounds on his back.

At last, panting, he stood in a larger shaft, lit by torches whose bright, flaring light made him squint. But he had little time to wonder before, exhausted and ill, he crumpled to the ground in a heap.

Next chapter coming next week!

I proofread all my stories at least once before posting, but if you see any mistakes I might have missed, please let me know! (Note that this story is formatted using British spellings.)

Please note that I have internet access only once a week, and may not have time to respond to all reviews/messages. Thanks for your understanding! Barbie