Longevity, a chronicles of narnia fanfic

LONGEVITY

Okay, so that last story I posted wasn't my last written piece of the year after all. But it really doesn't matter, does it? You'll be seeing plenty more stories (and a lot of Narnia stories, at that) from me in the coming year, you can bet on it. Believe it or not, all of these stories have helped me refine my own original novel (the first draft of which I resolve to get done by the end of 2010, at the very least; even if I don't find a publisher by then, I just hope to have the whole doggone thing down on paper).

So, who can rightfully say writing fan fiction is just a waste of time?

I dedicate this story specially to Elfwarriorgirl (known as PhotographerGirl on deviantART), a very good friend of mine. She's suffered a tragic loss this year; one of her dearest friends was killed in an awful accident. I have had my share of losses myself (lost one friend to cancer, another to suicide), so I can empathize. This is my way of showing her that I care about her, that I'm always here when she needs me. When you get the chance, be so kind as to pay her little section of Fanfiction a visit; she's got some terrific stories that are well worth a read.

Characters (with exceptions) © C.S. Lewis and Disney/Walden Media

Story © unicorn-skydancer08

"What's wrong, Tumnus?" Lucy asked, when she saw her faun come in with a look of deep distress on his face.

"It's Terence, Lucy," said Tumnus in a low voice. With a heavy sigh, he sank down into one of the chairs and buried his head in his hands, shaking it slowly from side to side.

Lucy didn't hesitate to rise to her feet and rush to his side. Kneeling on the thick carpet next to the chair, she questioned, "What about Terence? Is he all right? Is he well? What's the matter?" When Tumnus would not look up from his hands, Lucy touched his shaggy forearm to get his attention. "Tumnus," she petitioned, "Tumnus, please. Tell me."

When Tumnus finally raised his head, he regarded his love with sorrowful blue eyes, and told her, "I'm worried, Lucy. Terence has not been himself these days. Just about every time I see him, he looks so sad, so lonely…as if he hasn't got a friend in the world. He hardly smiles or makes jokes anymore, and even on the few occasions when he is smiling, that old, lively sparkle in his eyes is gone. He doesn't call me 'mate' as often as he used to. Overall, he acts like life is suddenly very serious business, like he is not allowed to have fun or be happy anymore."

"What's wrong with him?"

Tumnus faltered for just a moment, then decided since no one else was around at that time, and it was just Lucy, it ought to be all right to tell her. "I never told you this, Lucy—I didn't even know it myself, until recently—but I understand Terence used to be in love with some human girl when he became a man, before he returned to Narnia. A princess."

"A princess?" Lucy's eyes widened at that last bit, her interest piqued. "Who is she?"

"I don't know. Terence won't say much about her. All I ever found out was that her name's Rhiella. Just saying her name alone seemed to hurt Terence. She must have been very precious to him…and something must have gone very wrong between the two of them. Even though Terence never says anything, I can sense it must have been terrible."

"Oh, dear," said Lucy in a hushed voice, feeling her heart immediately swell with compassion for Terence.

"What's more, I suspect seeing you and I together is very hard on him. Perhaps it arouses too many disturbing memories, for him."

"Have you tried talking to Terence about this?"

Tumnus only shrugged his shoulders and opened his empty hands to Lucy, a look of defeat on his face. "I already have, just now," the faun said, "but he wouldn't let me. He just looked at me with those forlorn blue eyes of his, turned around, and walked away from me without a word. I called for him, but he kept going, and never looked back. It was enough to break my heart." He closed his eyes and lowered his head once more, this time bringing a single hand up to his forehead. "It's not fair, Lucy. I just can't stand seeing my brother so unhappy. I especially can't bear to see him try to struggle through this by himself. I don't know what more I can do. If only there was some way I could make Terence understand that I'm here for him, that I am more than willing to help him in any way I can…if he would only be willing enough to accept that help."

"Well, then," said Lucy decisively, as she climbed to her feet, "I'll deal with this, right now. I will go to Terence myself, and talk some sense into him."

"It may as well be you," Tumnus said jadedly, looking up once more, "since he refused to listen to me."

"Well, he won't get rid of me that easily. I'll see to it that he hears me out, even if I have to tie him to a chair with my bare hands."

Despite himself, Tumnus couldn't repress a weak smile.

Lucy, while she was among the sweetest, gentlest people Tumnus had ever known, could be extremely stubborn when necessary. Perhaps it was the result of growing up with three older, bigger, and often very bossy siblings; either way, whenever Lucy really had a hold of something, she was worse than two centaurs and a griffin put together.

Without further delay, Lucy turned on her heel and swept from the room, her long hair swirling about her face, billowing down her back in waves of molten copper. Tumnus watched her go, hoping and praying that she would somehow be able to get through to Terence. If she couldn't reach him, who else could?

It took Lucy almost an hour to find Terence. When she finally tracked him down, it was well outside the castle, almost down to the seashore. Terence was standing alone in the shade of one of the trees, leaning against the trunk with one arm raised and his head bowed. Dapples of late-afternoon sunlight played across the young man's face and shoulders. Since he was part unicorn, his hair and beard shone like the iridescent moonlight. The moment Lucy saw him, she made a direct beeline to him, and said in a clear, audible voice, "Hello, Terence."

Terence, undoubtedly thinking he was alone, gave a jump and swiftly spun around. Due to his unicorn instincts, it was usually very hard for anyone to sneak up on him. But every now and again, his friends managed to catch him off his guard. "Oh—Lucy!" Terence said, as soon as he recognized the girl. "I…I didn't see you. I didn't think you would be coming today."

"Are friends not at perfect liberty to drop in on each other, whenever they wish?" said Lucy, as she casually strode up to him and joined him in the shade.

Terence's face fell, and he sighed and slowly turned his head to the other side to avoid Lucy's gaze.

When he would say nothing more, Lucy stepped in closer. "Terence, we need to talk."

"There is nothing to talk about, Lucy."

Lucy frowned at him, and placed both her hands firmly upon her hips. "Don't give me that, Terence," she said, speaking a little more bluntly. "I know there is something wrong with you. Tumnus told me so himself, a moment ago." She noticed Terence made a slight wince at the mention of Tumnus. "Besides," she continued, "it's written all over your face, clear as the broad daylight. You may be good at concealing your secrets from the rest of us, Terence, but you never were very good at concealing your emotions."

Terence made no response to this, but he closed his eyes, his countenance wounded. Seeing the genuine pain in his face, Lucy immediately softened.

"Please, Terence," she now entreated him, "can't you see that Tumnus and I are trying to help you? We're your friends, aren't we? We love you, and it hurts us to see you like this. Tumnus is worried sick about you. He feels like he's somehow failed you, especially after the way you disregarded him today when he attempted to lend you his comfort."

"I just can't talk to him," said Terence, his voice weak and thick. "I can't even talk to you."

"Well, Terence—if you'll forgive me for saying this—keeping what you're feeling bottled up inside you and keeping silent isn't really doing anyone any good, least of all you."

"How am I supposed to explain it, anyway? How could you or Tumnus even understand what I'm going through? Tumnus has you…and you have him…while I…I-I…" Terence faltered, unable to finish his sentence. Then, quite abruptly, the youth ducked his head further while his hands flew up to cover his face, and he burst into a flood of bitter tears on the spot.

"Oh, Terence," said Lucy solicitously, moving closer to his side without hesitation.

So, Tumnus had been right.

Terence didn't look up, but went on sobbing as though his heart would break, as if it weren't broken already. Even when Lucy wrapped her arms around him and held him, he didn't stop. Like a mother soothing her distraught child, Lucy caressed and fondled him, and rocked him ever so gently, to and fro.

"Just what we suspected," she murmured at length. "Grieving for someone you used to know, and love. Rhiella, am I right?"

Terence didn't bother to ask Lucy how she could have known about Rhiella.

As the odds would have it, she heard about it from Tumnus. Normally, Terence would have gotten angry at the faun for opening his big mouth, but he was too broken up over his loss to care. Perhaps it was just as well, since the man didn't know whether he, himself, could have kept something like this a secret for much longer. "She was everything to me," the white-haired youth agonized to Lucy, his voice muffled by his palms. "I loved her more than any other man could have loved a woman. I still love her, even now. Hardly a day goes by when I don't think of her, of what the two of us had…what we almost had. I would give anything to see her again, to have her right here with me, even for a moment. I miss her so much."

Hearing him talk this way nearly broke Lucy's heart. This was, without a doubt, the saddest, most romantic thing the young queen had ever heard.

When Terence finally drew back from her hug and revealed his wet, shining face, he said tremulously, "I'm sorry, Lucy. You must think I'm crazy, that I'm some kind of sappy, lovestruck fool."

"Perish the thought, Terence," said Lucy softly, her eyes emanating nothing but pure tenderness. "I don't think you're anything of the sort."

She paused briefly. "And…I'm sorry you ever had to go through something like this, in the first place. This Rhiella, whoever she is, sounds like a truly extraordinary girl, indeed."

Terence sniffed, and attempted vainly to brush his tears away with the sleeve of his black tunic.

"How can anyone else understand?" the white-haired youth throatily asked, a second time. "How can anyone truly know and appreciate the way I feel?" He shook his head woefully. "Not even Tumnus, my own best mate, can begin to comprehend the half of what I've been through. How can he? How can he and I truly relate to each other?"

"Tumnus has had his share of hard times," Lucy pointed out. "All of us have our ups and downs. All of us have endured some kind of suffering in our lives…and it's worse for some than others."

Terence hung his head. "No one could have suffered worse than me," he murmured.

"Maybe we haven't undergone the same experiences that you have, Terence," Lucy conceded.

She gently added, "But we do maintain some idea of how it feels to be sad, lonely, and afraid, to feel like the whole world is against us."

"You're always so happy," said Terence morosely, without looking up. "You've got everything going on for you."

"Tumnus lost his mother to a terrible illness many years ago, when he was a very young faun," Lucy said. "Did you know that, Terence?"

Very slowly, Terence lifted his face again, his stunned gaze entangling with the girl's once more. "He did?"

"And not very many years after that, he lost his father, too," Lucy pressed on doggedly. "Can you imagine the terrible pain that must have cost him? Oreius was Tumnus's father's most devoted friend; they fought side by side in many battles, and each had saved the other's life, on more than one occasion. Do you think Oreius didn't grieve himself, when his friend died?"

Terence blinked in disbelief. Oreius, that stubborn ox?

Lucy continued, "I, myself, lost my own father when I was just a little girl, when he was sent off to fight in a war. I remember when he left us, I cried myself to sleep every night for weeks. Even now, I miss my father more than I can say. Do you suppose Susan, Edmund, and Peter, being my siblings, don't miss him just as much as I do, that they hurt any less?"

Terence stood perfectly still the whole time Lucy spoke, never once interrupting. Tears continued to slide down his cheeks every now and again, but he didn't make a sound.

"Everyone in this whole, wide world has been dealt some kind of pain or another," said Lucy. "Whether big or small, we all experience sorrow and disappointment. Much of the time, there are no answers for how certain things can happen, or why they happen. But if there is one thing to be learned, it's that we don't have to endure the sorrow alone."

"How can you help me?" Terence asked, with a hint of bitterness. "How can you take my grief from me?"

Lucy gave out a short, humorless laugh. "We can't," she said, and Terence closed his eyes and turned his face away once more. Lucy waited for just a moment, before reaching out to the young man and laying her hand lightly on his shoulder. With exceptional gentleness, she told him, "But when the pain is real, when the grief is at its peak, wouldn't you say there is comfort in the arms of a friend, Terence? Tumnus can't take your burden from you…but don't you think he can make the load a little easier for you?"

"I don't know, Lucy," Terence said hoarsely, his face sadder than anything Lucy had ever seen, or could have ever imagined. "I just don't know."

"Go to him," she encouraged him. "Go to Tumnus, now."

Terence sighed again. With his eyes still closed, he brought one hand to his face and regretfully pressed the bridge of his nose. "After the way I've been carrying on," he muttered, "it would be a miracle if Tumnus spoke to me again, let alone looked me in the face again. It wouldn't surprise me in the least if he's angry with me, for acting so foolish."

"Try him," Lucy insisted. "Find out just what Tumnus is feeling towards you for yourself. What do you have to lose? Either way, you can't be much worse off than you are already, can you?"

Terence had to admit that was true. When he was looking at Lucy properly again, he asked her, "What will I say to him?"

"Well, you might begin by asking him for forgiveness, for being so cold and distant. Then tell him what's in your heart. Don't hide your true feelings from him." Lucy now rested her palm delicately against the young man's cheek, along his jawline, so that she felt his soft facial hair, the warmth of his skin, and the dampness of his tears for herself. Terence did not shy away from the girl's touch, but a new tear slipped from his eye as he regarded her. Lucy carefully wiped the tear away with her thumb before she finished.

"And, should Tumnus extend his love to you, in any way, do not be ashamed, or afraid, to accept it."

With that, the girl rose up onto her tiptoes, so that she was more level with Terence, considering his height above her, and kissed him tenderly on his cheek.

In the end, Terence decided to take Lucy's advice. When he felt he had the strength, the young man began to search the Cair earnestly for the faun. Fortunately, it didn't take long to find Tumnus. In fact, the two almost literally ran into each other as they were coming up the same corridor. Both men gave quite a start, and stood still in front of one another.

"Tumnus," Terence gasped.

"Terence?" The faun looked and sounded just as surprised to see Terence, as Terence was to see him. "What are you doing here?"

Terence hesitated briefly, before answering meekly, "I…I was just on my way to meet you, mate."

"You were? That's what I was just about to do myself, with you." With a fairly lopsided smile, Tumnus added, "Great minds think alike, I suppose. Don't you?"

Terence smiled at the faun's little quip. But his smile was only temporary, of course, and it quickly faded from his face.

"Tumnus?"

"Yes? What is it, Terence?" The way Tumnus spoke the words with such softness and warmth, the way his hoofed companion looked at him so kindly, made Terence's heart twist.

Terence nearly faltered in his resolve, but he somehow managed to stand firm. Clearing his throat, the young man ventured, "Tumnus, I…I-I just wanted to say that…th-that…I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Tumnus repeated, his long, petal-shaped ears pricking up slightly at the word. "For what?"

Terence humbly bowed his head. "For refusing to speak to you earlier…for giving you the cold shoulder."

"Oh," said Tumnus in a hushed voice, and his ears now quirked downward.

But Terence could tell he wasn't angry or upset in any way, just sad, a little disappointed—and deeply sympathetic.

"I didn't mean to slight you like that, mate," said Terence self-effacingly. "I never meant anything offensive by it. Really, I didn't."

"Of course not, Terence…I know," Tumnus answered mildly. "I'm sure you were hurting pretty badly. I can't say I blame you. I would have likely acted the same way, if it were me."

"And another thing," Terence added on. "I'm sorry if I—" He stopped, and swallowed hard, before finishing. "If I made you feel inferior to Rhiella, in any way."

Tumnus stared at him quizzically. "What are you talking about?"

His head drooping once more to his chest, Terence centered his gaze on his own lean, well-formed hands, which were clasped uneasily in front of him.

"I've been very selfish lately, haven't I?" the dejected youth acknowledged.

"Oh, no, Terence…"

But Terence resolutely plowed on.

"I've been so caught up in my grief over Rhiella, so focused on my own individual pain, that I failed to recognize what's been going on around me, what I already have. I've been so immersed in my past that I've overlooked the present. I lost sight of the things in my life that truly count…Lucy, Edmund, the Beavers…and you. Especially you, mate. I feel so ashamed."

His voice caught at that last bit, and fresh pools of tears flooded his eyes.

At the same time, Tumnus could feel his eyes filling up to the brim as well. The overflow poured out onto his cheeks as he whispered, "Oh, Terence…"

When Terence finally looked up in the end, when he had regained some use of his voice, he tearfully petitioned, "Will you forgive me, Tumnus? Will you forgive me, not only for rejecting you today, but for undervaluing you, as well? You were always there for me, this whole time, and I was too busy feeling sorry for myself. I was too proud to accept your help when you tried to help me. I'm sorry, mate. Can you ever forgive me?" He paused, drawing in a shaky breath. "And…c-can we still be friends?"

Slowly, very slowly, his hooves clicking faintly on the hard floor beneath them, Tumnus advanced forward. The faun stretched forth his hands and laid them ever so gently on the young man's visibly quaking shoulders. Now that they were this close to each other, Terence couldn't bring himself to look away; it was as if some unseen spell held him in place. "Of course, I forgive you, my dear Terence," Tumnus said, in a solemn whisper. Terence knew the faun was dead serious whenever he referred to him as his own. A weepy smile illuminated Tumnus's face, and he chuckled thickly as he added on, "But, there is nothing to even forgive you for."

Terence felt these words literally wash through him, seeping through to his heart. His breathing grew considerably more ragged and shallow, while his body began to tremble more profoundly.

"As for being friends," Tumnus continued, one hand now cupping Terence's wet, feverish cheek, "we'll always be the very best of friends. Better yet, we'll always be the best of brothers."

That last statement was all it took to completely shatter Terence.

"Oh, Tumnus—"

Unable to speak further, he practically lunged at Tumnus and engulfed him in a fierce hug, weeping without restraint. The faun readily squeezed the white-haired youth back, just as hard.

They stood like that for what must have been ages, sobbing freely into each other's necks, hugging each other until they both ached. Tumnus seemed in no hurry to let Terence go; frankly, Terence didn't want him to ever let go, or to ever release the faun himself if he could help it. Tumnus knew his fine green scarf was quickly getting ruined from Terence's tears, but he didn't care in the slightest; he knew perfectly well he was causing just as much damage to the man's rich blue shawl.

Terence closed his eyes and pressed his forehead firmly to Tumnus's shoulder, while Tumnus ran a hand continually up and down the nape of Terence's neck in a loving caress. At one point, Terence felt a kiss brush against his temple; a kiss was something Tumnus gave rarely, and very meaningfully when he did.

As Terence wept, he felt his heavy emotions he'd kept inside under lock and key flow with his tears.

By the time the rush of tears finally ceased, and his breathing steadied, he felt much better.

When, in the end, he and Tumnus were compelled to release each other and draw back, Terence's eyes were quite red and swollen. He saw that Tumnus's eyes had a fairly reddish cast to them as well. From under his scarf, Tumnus produced his handy white handkerchief. Holding it up, he asked his mate with a lopsided smile, "Which of us needs this thing more?"

Terence couldn't help but crack up at that. It was the first time he recalled laughing in what seemed forever. Tumnus laughed along with him.

Soon, the two were laughing so hard that new tears spilled forth and ran down their faces to mix with the old ones, and they became quite a sodden mess, indeed.

They ended up sharing the handkerchief, each of them using his own corner to dry his eyes. When they'd finished, made themselves a little more presentable, Tumnus quietly stowed his handkerchief away once more. The faun then cleared his throat and straightened up a little more before saying, "Now, then, mate, what do you say to joining me, for tea?"

Terence smiled at the cocky way he spoke those last three words.

"All right," the young man replied, without hesitation. "I could use a cup of tea or two, right now."

Indeed, a cup of tea sounded wonderful. Right now, anything sounded appealing—even sardines.

Twirling his hand in an elaborate gesture and bowing deeply at the waist, Tumnus said grandly, "After you."

With a broad grin, Terence closed his eyes and bowed just as deeply in return.

But as the two young men were traipsing down the corridor together, Terence paused at one point to say, "Tumnus?" For a moment, his tone was serious once again.

Tumnus promptly stopped and turned back to him. "What?"

Placing his hand on his mate's shoulder, Terence said simply, "Thank you."

Knowing he was being thanked for more than just the tea, Tumnus only smiled, and clasped Terence's hand amiably with his own.

Terence still missed Rhiella more than he could say, and he knew it would take some time for his shattered soul to be fully restored, if ever. But Lucy was right; it was a marvelous comfort to know he wasn't alone, that he would always have Tumnus there to keep him going. Knowing he had a friend at his side made his load a little easier, his overall world a little brighter.