THE FUGITIVE

Hey, everybody! It's me again, with fresh ideas for a fresh story! Once again, I present you with another Narnia story, featuring Tumnus and Lucy; and of course, my beloved Terence! Boy…I'm gonna have to learn to train myself to get one adventure written down before diving into another. But hey, as long as the ideas are coming, I may as well take advantage of them.

Terence © unicorn-skydancer08

All rights reserved. Any copying, or any illegitimate reproduction of this work whatsoever, is strictly prohibited. Your honesty is sincerely appreciated.

Tumnus wandered into his friend Terence's private chambers to discover the young man standing alone on his private balcony, gazing meditatively into the soft summer night. Terence seemed much quieter and much more still than usual, and Tumnus had that strange gut feeling that something was not quite right with his best mate.

Very slowly, and very tentatively, the faun began to approach the silver-haired youth.

Without turning his head, Terence murmured, "Shouldn't you be at the party, Tumnus?"

Even though Terence looked like a man on the outside, he was really a unicorn at heart, and as such he was gifted with a remarkable sense of hearing, and a receptive intuition. Somehow, he could always sense when something or someone was there, even without looking.

It was almost impossible for Tumnus—or anybody—to sneak up on him.

Knowing it was no use to try to hide, Tumnus simply continued to move forward, until he stood at Terence's side. "And what of you, mate?" the faun queried, as he leaned against the rim of the balcony, his right shoulder lightly brushing against Terence's left. "Should you not also be enjoying the festivities, along with the rest of us?"

"I would not have lasted much longer in that ballroom anyhow," said Terence quietly, not bothering to meet the faun's china eyes while he spoke. "The music was too loud, the room too crowded, the decorations too gaudy, the wine too sweet, everyone jabbering too much about too many mindless matters…I just couldn't stay there anymore. I had to get away. Besides, I was never in the mood for a party to begin with. Not tonight, anyway."

"Are you all right?" Tumnus asked, gazing solicitously at his friend's handsome, moon-washed face. "You don't look well."

He was unsure of whether or not it was a trick of the moon, but he thought Terence looked rather sickly, as if coming down with something dreadful. The young man's shoulders sagged, his head drooped downward, and he stood as still as stone.

"It's nothing," said Terence, speaking so softly that Tumnus could barely hear him over the rumble of the Eastern Sea below. "Don't worry about me, mate. All is well. I'm well enough off."

He still wouldn't look at Tumnus, but only continued to stare out into the star-spattered sky.

Tumnus could swear he spotted a faint glimmer within Terence's eye, but from where he stood, and from the way Terence's head was positioned, it was difficult to tell whether or not it was a tear, or two. Clearly, all was not well with his friend, Tumnus knew. He never considered himself the wisest or the brightest faun in Narnia, but he recognized trouble and distress when it was there. And, of course, he and Terence had known one another for far too long, and were far too devoted to one another, to not know when something was wrong with the other.

"Terence, are you sure you're all right? You look terrible. Is there something bothering you?"

Again, Terence refused to make proper eye contact with the faun, so Tumnus reached out a hand and touched the far side of his mate's face, gently forcing the young man to turn his head in his direction. Terence made no resistance to this, and when his sapphire eyes at long last met with Tumnus's sky-blue ones, Tumnus felt his heart twist at the look of hopelessness in their mysterious depths. The usual lively spark was gone; and Terence's face as a whole, usually so full of spirit and vigor, was full of sorrow and defeat. His bright lazuline eyes were practically swimming in tears.

"Terence," Tumnus pleaded again, "please…talk to me. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Terence repeated, even though his countenance obviously stated otherwise.

Tumnus cautiously lowered his hand from the man's jaw. "Didn't you have a very good day today, mate?"

"I've had better ones," the young man admitted. Without another word, he closed his eyes and turned his head aside once more, and Tumnus laid a hand upon his companion's shoulder and offered a light squeeze, hoping this would help comfort Terence some.

For a time, the two friends stood together in complete silence. A light, balmy breeze caressed them, rippling Tumnus's green silk scarf and tousling the faun's honey-brown curls, and lifting and spilling Terence's long silvery locks continually into his eyes.

Presently, for the first time that evening, Terence looked at Tumnus on his own, and spoke to the faun first. "Tumnus?"

"Hmm?" Immediately, the faun granted him his full and undivided attention.

Terence hesitated for just a moment before questioning, "Do you think I'm odd?"

"Odd?" Tumnus repeated incredulously. "Why in the world would you ever think such a thing?"

Terence sighed and trifled absentmindedly with his human hands, which were long and lean and perfect. "Oh, I don't know, mate. It's just that…well, I'm not so sure I really fit in here. It feels like I can never truly talk to anyone, or truly relate to anyone here at Cair Paravel."

"What about me?" Tumnus protested, looking and sounding hurt. "And what about Lucy? You know you can always talk to us. You know we are always there for you."

"I know that," Terence gently acknowledged, "and that means so much to me. But aside from the two of you, mate, there is no one else. I doubt I'd have stayed in Cair Paravel for as long as I have, had it not been for you. Furthermore, you and Lucy are more accustomed to this way of living, Tumnus. You have a place to belong to. I, on the other hand, never belonged to any place, anywhere. I am what you might refer to as a wanderer. I'm always roaming from here to there. And throughout my life, before I came here to Narnia, I have stumbled across several places…but none of them have been home to me." In his heart, the young man added dejectedly, Sometimes I don't think I'll ever find a place to call home.

"You could belong here, Terence," said Tumnus. "You could make your home here, in Narnia."

Terence smiled as he regarded his dear friend. Yet it was a sad, bitter smile.

What the faun didn't realize was that it wasn't that simple. Nothing was simple in one's life, especially when one was a wanderer. Terence's feet carried him one way, while his heart moved him in quite a different direction. In all his days as a unicorn, and as a human being, he'd never been very close to many people, or very devoted to many places. He was never entirely sure where his heart truly rested, and he doubted whether he would ever know.

And even if Terence were to have a home, a real home, he wanted a place where he was sincerely loved and wanted.

Oh, sure, Tumnus and Queen Lucy (one of the royal sovereigns of Narnia, and Tumnus's one true love) were forever telling Terence that he was always welcome in Narnia, and Queen Lucy was always insisting that Terence stay at Cair Paravel for as long as need be. Yet Tumnus and Lucy were the sole reason Terence ever bothered with Narnia to begin with. Terence had been correct about that much. Hardly anyone else gave much regard to the young man, or took into account what he said or did with himself. It was like he didn't exist. It wasn't as though everyone else was trying to be deliberately cruel, or anything of the sort; yet Terence was a foreigner, a strange person who hailed from a land far outside of Narnia's borders.

What would anyone have to do with the likes of someone such as him? Even when Terence stood in a crowded room of people, he felt as alone as if he were stranded on the moon.

Even Tumnus and Lucy, the dear friends that they were, had begun to slowly drift away from Terence, though neither the faun nor the young queen was aware of it. They'd started spending less and less of their time with Terence lately, and while they had obvious reasons for this, their isolation still stung Terence all the same. Once or twice, Terence couldn't help questioning whether Tumnus and Lucy truly cared. He couldn't help wondering if anybody cared about him, if anybody really understood him, if there was ever a place for him in this world.

Terence might have told Tumnus about all of this, he might have elaborated to the faun his feelings of sheer loneliness and insignificance; but just as he was about to open his mouth to say something, a feminine voice spoke from behind: "Terence, Tumnus—there you are!"

Looking simultaneously over their shoulders, Terence and Tumnus discovered Lucy standing there in the wide, arched doorway. She looked nothing short of beautiful in her soft lilac gown, and her tiara of silver laurel leaves and flowers exemplified her nobility as queen of the realm. She had been just a little girl when Terence first met her, but now she was a fine and spirited young woman, and Tumnus loved her and cherished her more than life itself.

Terence saw Tumnus's face brighten significantly at the sight of Lucy, and the sight made the youth's heart briefly constrict.

Venturing out onto the balcony, her gown and hair fluttering in the sweet, slightly salty wind as she did so, Lucy questioned, "Where have you two been? I have been looking everywhere for you!" Without even giving either of her men a chance to answer, she seized hold of Tumnus's hand and urged, "Come on, you're missing out on the party!"

Tumnus looked expectantly toward Terence. "Would you care to join us, mate?"

"No, thanks," Terence answered, after at least a minute or so of willful silence. "You two go on ahead. I think I'll just turn myself in for the night."

"Aw, come on, Terence," Lucy cajoled, "don't be such a spoilsport. Join us in the fun!"

"It's all right, Lucy. I'll be perfectly okay. You and Tumnus go, and enjoy yourselves. I'll see you in the morning." Terence was not about to set foot in that ballroom again, if he could help it. The way he was feeling, he couldn't possibly think about having a good time, let alone that night. He could not go out there, plaster a false smile to his face, and act like life was grand; when in all honesty, it wasn't.

"Are you sure you'll be all right?" Tumnus asked Terence gently.

"Yes, I'll be fine. Don't let me stand in the way of your fun, mate. Go be with Lucy, and you and I can talk later tomorrow. I'll likely feel better once I've gotten some sleep."

Perhaps a good night's sleep was all Terence needed, Tumnus figured.

"Well, all right, then," the faun conceded. "Hey, what do you say we get together tomorrow afternoon, just you and me, and we can talk over tea?"

"Suits me fine," said Terence casually.

"We can use those special cups without the handles," said Tumnus, smiling at his friend and attempting to lighten the mood, "and if the weather permits, we could drink the tea outside. And, perhaps," he added, with a touch of shrewdness, "we'll even break into the sardines."

Terence merely nodded. "Sure, Tumnus. That sounds good."

Lucy felt a twinge of disappointment at not having Terence return with them to the celebration, but she decided not to push him, and she decided to not let the young man's withdrawal spoil her evening. Looking a little more intently at her friend's face, she assumed Terence did appear rather tired, after all.

And so, she simply linked her right arm with Tumnus's left arm and led her faun back into the castle, saying over her shoulder, "Well, then; in that case, goodnight, Terence."

"Goodnight, Terence," Tumnus echoed.

"Goodnight," Terence replied, and he managed to smile and look a little more like his old self.

Tumnus smiled back at his mate, and the faun went willingly with Lucy, assuming in his young mind that tomorrow was a new day, and that everything would somehow be all right by then.