TWO OF A KIND

Here it is, a brand-new chapter, fresh off the grill! (Well, fresh off my imagination, or whatever, but you get the point.) I'm nothing short of pumped to have this updated again, at long last.

I'd strongly advise keeping some tissues handy; this here is a real heart-render, most especially towards the end.

Characters (excluding Terence) © C.S. Lewis and Disney/Walden Media

Terence and Story © unicorn-skydancer08

All rights reserved.

Chapter 4

"By the Lion's Golden Mane!" Edmund whispered, thunderstruck. Susan neither moved nor spoke at all, but had her eyes been any bigger, they would have stretched beyond the moon. Tumnus remained completely still and utterly silent himself, as though he were a statue in the White Witch's courtyard all over again.

Lucy stared long and hard at the young man before them, absorbing his face like a sponge. Looking into the boy's eyes, Lucy saw that they were the exact same color as Terence's eyes, and held that same vivacious spark, that same depth of mystery. While his hair was much shorter, his bangs were just as long and thick; also, both his hair and his goatee had the same silky fineness, and shone with the same white luster. Furthermore, his grace and poise easily exceeded that of any man she saw in her life. Not even Peter stood like that.

As for Peter, he ultimately decided that if this man truly was Terence, they would need proof. "All right, then," said the High King, folding his arms in front of him and eyeing the silver-haired youth shrewdly, "if you are who you say you are, permit us to ask a few personal questions—questions that only Terence can answer," he added emphatically.

The boy merely shrugged his shoulders, and answered compliantly, "Okay, ask away."

Peter, naturally, started it off. "When we met Terence for the first time, what kind of creature was he?"

"Why, a unicorn, of course." The boy said it like it should have been the most obvious thing in the world.

"What's Terence's favorite food?" inquired Edmund.

"Fresh strawberries with cream—though I wouldn't say no to some nice, fresh apples, or a few fig cakes with honey and nuts, either."

Getting into it, Susan interrogated, "What are Terence's favorite colors?"

"Blue, green, white, gold, and silver. I'm rather fond of purple, as well."

Lucy asked, "How old is Terence?"

"One hundred and fifty—one hundred and fifty-seven, to be precise."

He's good, Tumnus had to admit to himself. Lucy and her siblings were also impressed with this man's knowledge. They started asking him questions that were a little more complex.

"What's the name of our castle?" Edmund asked.

"Cair Paravel."

"What are our full names and royal titles?" Susan probed.

"Peter James Pevensie, the Magnificent; Susan Anna Pevensie, the Gentle; Edmund Cedric Pevensie, the Just; and Lucy Marie Pevensie, the Valiant."

"What are the names of our four royal horses?" Lucy questioned.

"Ares, Phillip, Landon, and Candance. Peter rides Ares, Edmund rides Phillip—who is one of the Talking Horses—and Landon belongs to Susan. Candance was a gift to Lucy from Peter."

Even Tumnus mustered the nerve to give voice to a question. "What do I take in my tea?" the faun queried.

"Honey, lemon, and cinnamon; and often with a touch of chamomile, for that extra pinch of flavor."

Finally, Peter asked, "What did we do for Lucy's tenth birthday?"

They were convinced the boy could never get this one, especially Tumnus. To their utmost surprise, the boy answered promptly, "You held a big dance party for her, in the grand ballroom of the Cair. Every creature of Narnia that could fit in the castle was there. There were flowers scattered all over the place, and you had a big ice sculpture, an orchestra, and everything. Peter led the first dance with Lucy." He chuckled as he added on, "I remember she stood on his feet the whole time, so she wouldn't keep stepping on them while they danced about."

Lucy's face flushed warmly at the memory.

The white-haired youth continued, "I also remember Lucy wore a blue dress that day, and a crown of white flowers in her hair. The cake was white, with pink icing—"

"A-ha!" Peter cut him off abruptly. "You are wrong, sir; the icing on that cake was white, with large white roses."

"No, that was for her eleventh birthday," the man said, unperturbedly. "I know, because Lucy wore a white dress to match it."

Everyone else exchanged looks of total bewilderment with one another. "He's right," Edmund said, after a moment of stunned silence.

Nobody knew what to say after that. There was no way in the world this foreigner could have answered every last one of those questions, straight off the bat, unless…unless he was telling the truth, and this strange boy with the strange hair standing in their presence actually was their long-lost friend. However, a small, adamant part of Tumnus yet refused to accept such a ludicrous, far-fetched thing. Even if this boy could guess correctly, the faun thought, that still didn't prove anything. Peter, Susan, and Edmund all harbored similar qualms as well.

Even Lucy, who had always been a figure of faith, felt the gnaw of doubt.

Though not another word was spoken, the young man could somehow read their minds.

"If you still don't believe me," he said to them, "perhaps this will convince you that I am who I am."

So saying, he lifted a hand and swept back his lengthy, luminous bangs that seemed to be constantly in his face.

There, on his forehead, just a little above his left eye, there was a small jewel-blue mark, shaped like the moon. It was the exact mark that Terence had always maintained, his whole life. Now all eyes essentially bugged out at the sight, all jaws dropped loose, and all hearts started racing out of control. Susan placed one hand over her open mouth and took a small step backward, while Peter and Edmund's faces both gave off the impression of having just beheld a ghost. As for Tumnus, he not only looked like he'd seen a ghost, but he was as pale as one, too.

As Lucy's bewildered gaze entangled with the boy's, a faint smile played on his lips.

It had to be—there was no way to deny it now.

"Terence!" Lucy said again, louder and more exuberantly this time, her face positively aglow. "It is you!"

With that, she made a hasty beeline to him, taking care to lift the hem of her dress, and was immediately swept into his enthusiastic embrace. Tears of joy spilled down her cheeks as she fervently squeezed him back. Terence, now that he was human himself, shed a good number of tears of his own. With a sob in his throat, he closed his eyes tightly and held Lucy as if he would never let her go. Lucy felt his tears wet the costly fabric of her dress, but she paid it no mind; she knew perfectly well she was causing just as much damage, if not more, to his cloak.

By the time they finally peeled themselves away from each other, Lucy said, making noises that ranged somewhere between laughing and sobbing, "Oh, Terence—my dear, dear Terence! I never thought I would see you again! Oh, this is almost too wonderful to be real!" Looking him over, she raved on, "My heavens, how you've changed! I barely recognize you!"

"You've changed a great deal, too, Lucy." Terence smiled tearfully as he noted how much the girl had matured since he last saw her. "You've gotten so big; I hardly recognize you, myself."

When he turned to face the others, who were still in a state of considerable shock, Susan gasped, "By Tarva and Alambil, Terence, what happened to you?"

"How did you ever get like this?" Edmund asked.

"You used to walk the earth on all fours," added Peter, in equal awe, "and now—now, you're like—well, like one of us!"

With a weak chuckle, Terence replied ruefully, "It's a long, long story. If I told you, you would think I was out of my mind…even more so than you did before."

He now glanced in Tumnus's direction. "Tumnus, old friend, do you know me, now?"

Tumnus said nothing, being at an utter loss for words. He didn't know what to say, or what to think. His heart was torn so many different ways; his mind was aswirl with a thousand troublesome thoughts. There was no further reason to doubt that Terence was here (in some form), that he had come back to Narnia, but it was still almost impossible to believe.

Part of Tumnus was overwhelmed at the radical change that had come upon his friend, and at the pure, simple fact that this had finally happened, that Terence had returned after all these years. Another part of the faun was overjoyed, and greatly relieved, to see that Terence was alive and well. But another part was angry—furious, even—that Terence would dare show his face to them again after being away for so long, never letting them know of his whereabouts, never keeping in touch, leaving them to agonize over where he was and what had happened to him.

It was the anger that ultimately won out.

When Terence started to approach Tumnus, Tumnus, instead of moving forward to receive him, only backed further away. "How dare you," the faun said, through gritted teeth. The unexpected words, and the unexpected coldness in Tumnus's tone, startled Terence into halting in his tracks yet again. Lucy was surprised, too, as were the others.

"Tumnus?" said Terence tentatively.

"How dare you!" Tumnus repeated, speaking louder and more severely this time, his face flushing a noteworthy shade of red. "How dare you, Terence!"

Lucy was shocked to hear Tumnus talk that way to his best friend. Neither Edmund, Susan, nor Peter had known Tumnus to act like this before, around anyone. Terence just stood still, silent and submissive yet strangely dignified before Tumnus's outburst, though his face was clearly stricken. "Where in the name of Narnia have you been?" Tumnus demanded hotly.

"I am here now," was all Terence could think of to say.

Then Tumnus laughed, but it was a bitter, cynical laugh, one that held five years' worth of grief and pain.

"And where were you, five years ago?" the faun challenged Terence, when he could speak again. "Thought you could drop out of our lives and then drop back in just like that, did you?"

This apparently struck home, and Terence faltered. "I…I…"

"Thought you could simply walk out on us, without saying one blasted word, and leave us—leave me," Tumnus fumed. "Leave me, your most intimate friend, worrying to death about you, wondering if you were still living and breathing, wondering if you even cared anymore, wondering why you went and left me behind…wondering what I did wrong." Everyone noticed that Tumnus was progressively losing steam throughout his rant; by the time he reached the bit of speculating what he could have done wrong, his shoulders had drooped lower than usual, most of the vivid color had receded from his face, and he spoke in a low, soft voice, through which obvious hurt was revealed.

Terence said nothing, having been stunned into dead silence by this tirade. Lucy and her siblings were nothing short of speechless, themselves.

Tumnus caught his breath, struggling to hold back the fresh tears that were threatening to fall.

"I thought you loved me, Terence," he half-croaked. "I thought I was your best friend. I thought that meant something to you."

"But you are my best friend," Terence finally answered, looking and sounding deeply wounded as well.

"If you were truly my friend, you wouldn't have deserted me, the way you did." Out of all that Tumnus had thrown out at Terence thus far, this proved to be the sharpest barb of all. Now Lucy felt the sting of tears in her own eyes, whereas Susan and the boys remained immobile, unable to find their tongues, sorrow and disbelief visibly etched into their every feature.

Terence was crushed, but that didn't stop the young man from advancing on Tumnus again.

"Oh, Tumnus," he whispered, opening his arms as if to embrace the faun.

But Tumnus turned away. "Don't touch me," he said, his voice cracking like a piece of brittle glass, the tears flowing freely. "Don't come anywhere near me, Terence. Just get out of here. Get out of here, and leave me be." With that, the faun closed his eyes, buried his tormented face in his hands, and blindly made his way into the Cair.