HEALING CHRISTMAS

Of course, I had to write a Christmas story that takes place in Narnia. This will probably be my last written piece of 2010, but there will definitely be more stories next year! You just wait and see!

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

Terence and Story © unicorn-skydancer08

All rights reserved.

It was the night before Christmas in Narnia. Castle Cair Paravel was looking very festive for the holiday. Holly, ribbons, and tinsel were strewn all over the place, and there was a tree in practically every room.

Tumnus, unable to sleep, sat alone in his personal chambers, next to the fireplace. A splendid fire was crackling away in the grate, and Tumnus held in his hands a cup of fresh tea with an extra pinch of cinnamon, his special remedy for just about everything. While the faun was able to take a few sips now and again, the level hardly went down much. He couldn't help worrying about the next day; he hoped it wouldn't be a repeat of last year.

Last Christmas had gone very badly. By far, it was the worst Christmas at the Cair. Tumnus didn't know what happened, or how he might have been the cause of it.

It had been the first Christmas since he and Queen Lucy had made their love for each other known to the world. Tumnus had been really looking forward to spending his first "romantic" Christmas with Lucy, as was she. Everyone else at the Cair was happy for them, as far as Tumnus could tell. But Terence, the handsome young unicorn turned human, who was Tumnus's best mate and brother, had seemed colder and more distant than usual. Even when he and Tumnus were in the same room, there still seemed to be a wall between them. Terence rarely smiled anymore, and the warm, friendly glow had gone from his striking blue eyes.

Even after a solid year, Tumnus remembered what took place as clearly as if it had been yesterday. Even now, tears sprang to the faun's eyes to think about it.

They were having a marvelous Christmas Eve dinner. Tumnus and Lucy, naturally, sat next to each other, holding hands the whole time they ate. Presently, Peter stood, goblet in hand, and proposed a toast to the couple.

All of the others raised their goblets in proud unison, but Terence…something inside the boy just snapped.

Instead of joining in the toast, he jumped up, upsetting his own goblet in the process, and began shouting at the top of his voice. Tumnus had never heard his mate shout like that before, nor could he believe the words that escaped the youth's tongue. Terence launched into a hot tirade about how stupid and foolish they all were, especially Tumnus and Lucy. He berated the faun and the girl for believing in fairy tales and happy endings, for even thinking that a romantic relationship between them could work in the first place. He told them to open their eyes and face reality. When Peter ordered Terence to stop it, Terence had shot back with: "No, you stop it, Peter! Stop encouraging this sappy, infantile nonsense!"

Everyone was shocked at Terence's daring; no one ever raised their voice to the High King. But it was what Terence said that truly hit home. Tumnus felt them pierce through his very heart, like arrows.

Without another word, Terence turned his back on them all and stormed out of there.

As soon as he was gone, Lucy meekly asked if she could be excused, and Peter sighed, but consented.

After a minute's hesitation, Tumnus arose and left, too. He found Lucy crying softly in one of the halls, and he took the girl very gently in his arms and held her while tears streamed down his own face. Tumnus knew Lucy must have felt awful; he certainly did. Terence had never treated them or anybody that way before. He'd always been their sweetest, dearest, most devoted friend. What was the matter with him?

Why was he so opposed to Lucy and Tumnus being together? Of course, what he had just done was nowhere near enough to make the girl and the faun break off their relationship…but it did break their hearts.

They never saw Terence again until the next morning. Even then, Terence would have nothing to do with them, and he stayed as far away from them as possible. The white-haired youth refused to participate in any of the Christmas carousing, and though the festivities went on as planned, somehow the joy and pleasure had been taken out of the holiday. Overall, it had been a terrible Christmas; the worst Tumnus had ever or would ever have in his entire life.

In the year that followed, Terence never made a scene like that again. Although he was much more civil toward Tumnus, Lucy, Peter, and the others, things between him and them were still rather chilly.

Now, it was almost Christmas again. Tumnus hadn't seen much of Terence throughout that day, and in spite of the way Terence had treated him, the faun couldn't help wondering if he was all right, if he was going to be all right this year.

What was it that set him off last time, anyway? Had Tumnus done something wrong? Had Lucy done something wrong?

While Tumnus racked his brains, trying to think of a legitimate offense, he slowly became aware that he had company.

Looking toward his door, he saw Terence himself standing there, watching him warily. The youth was wrapped in his black silk robe, and his bare feet peeked out from under the hem. It was very late, yet Terence looked wide-awake.

"Terence?" said Tumnus when he recognized him.

"Hello, Tumnus," Terence greeted the faun quietly. "May I come in?"

Tumnus hesitated only briefly before replying, "Yes…come on in, mate. Come sit with me."

Terence accepted his offer. He approached Tumnus very slowly, almost fearfully, as if advancing on a formidable enemy.

When he took his seat in the spare chair across from Tumnus, he did not look at the faun, but rather centered his gaze on the dancing orange flames in the hearth.

At length, Tumnus asked him, "Would you like some tea?"

"No, thank you." A few seconds later, however, Terence changed his mind. "Well…I suppose one cup would be all right."

So Tumnus poured him a cup, and Terence focused on the faun's hands as the transfer was made. "Thanks, mate," he murmured before lifting the cup to his lips and taking a tentative sip.

For the next little while, all was quiet between the two young men. While Terence gazed pensively into his tea, Tumnus surveyed his mate.

This was the first time he had seen Terence up close in ages; the boy seemed thinner than usual, and despite the rosy glow of the fire, Tumnus thought he looked a little pale.

"How's the tea?" Tumnus asked at one point, trying to break the uncanny silence.

Terence took another draft before he answered. "Not bad. Not bad at all."

After another minute, Tumnus found the courage to ask, "So, what are you doing here, Terence? Did you want something?"

Terence still wouldn't look him in the eye, but Tumnus could see the young man pull a slight wince, as if he were in pain.

When Terence spoke, his voice was so faint that Tumnus could hardly hear him, even with his keen ears. "I…I just wanted to be with you, that's all. I've been missing you."

"I've missed you, too," Tumnus had to admit. "I don't see much of you these days anymore."

Terence said nothing to this, though his countenance was clearly wounded.

Ultimately, the white-haired youth was the first to speak this time. "Tumnus?"

"What?"

With some difficulty, Terence asked, "Do…do you remember what took place last year? Last Christmas?"

"Yes," said Tumnus softly. "I've been thinking about that just now, actually."

Terence's hands were shaking visibly, and he had to set the rest of his tea aside on a little table so as not to spill it on the expensive rug. Tumnus knitted his brows.

"Terence? What is it? Are you feeling all right?"

Now Terence faced him properly at last, and Tumnus saw, to his great astonishment, that his companion's intensely blue eyes were swimming in a pool of tears.

The look on Terence's face was one of incredible sadness, of despair and shame, and—was it possible—fear? The sight went to the faun's heart. Terence opened his mouth once or twice, as if to speak, but instead he dropped his head and covered his face with his hands. His shoulders began to heave erratically as unrestrained sobs flooded out of him. "Terence…Terence!" Tumnus protested, setting his own cup aside and rising to his hooves straightaway. He made a swift beeline to the other chair and knelt on the floor at Terence's side, but Terence didn't look up, only went on sobbing as though his heart would break. Tumnus placed a hand on the boy's quivering shoulder, trying vainly to calm him.

"Terence," the faun said again.

"Oh, Tumnus," Terence groaned into his hands, "forgive me. I am so sorry. You and Lucy will never know how sorry I am for what I've done, how heavy the burden has been on my heart."

Tumnus caught his breath at this, and he felt that burning sting in his own eyes and throat. "Oh, Terence…"

"I had no right to treat either of you the way I did," lamented Terence. "I don't know what I was thinking. I was so stupid. I ruined everything for you—and for everybody."

"Why, Terence?" Tumnus honestly couldn't stop himself from asking. "Why would you do something like that?"

Very slowly, Terence lifted his dripping face from his hands. His expression was the epitome of guilt. In a hoarse whisper, the youth replied, "Because I was jealous."

"Jealous?" Tumnus repeated the word like it was foreign.

Terence nodded miserably. "As rotten as it is, it's the truth, Tumnus. I was jealous of you and Lucy."

"Why?" was the only logical thing Tumnus could find to say.

Distractedly, Terence raked his fingers through his tousled white hair.

After taking some time to think of the appropriate words, he explained haltingly, "There was always something special between you two. A connection, if you will. Though all three of us were friends, somehow I sensed that Lucy was the fondest of you. When Lucy grew older, when the time came for her to find somebody to love, she chose you, above all the others…including me. It wouldn't have been so bad, except…except…"

It was here that Terence stopped, unable to go on.

"Except, what?" persisted Tumnus.

In abject shame, Terence closed his eyes and hid them within a single trembling hand. "Except for the fact that I loved her, too," the boy could barely choke out.

When Tumnus heard this, it was as if his whole body had turned to ice. The faun could neither move nor speak. He could only stare at Terence, as one struck dumb.

"Yes, I loved Lucy, too," Terence repeated, his voice thick and garbled with emotion. "I don't know why, but I did—more than I ever thought I could love her or any other girl. For some reason, I never found the courage to tell her so. Then when she made it clear that she loved you instead, when you two announced it to the whole world…it destroyed me."

Now Tumnus could feel his shock melt into heartache, and exquisite guilt of his own. The faun's eyes filled to brimming, and the warm overflow spilled out onto his cheeks.

"Then that night," Terence quavered, "when Peter made that toast to you, it was the last straw. I found myself lashing out like a crazed lion. I could hardly control the words that came out of my mouth. I was so angry, so hurt—I wanted everyone in that room, especially you, to feel the pain I was already feeling. By the time I was out of there, when I finally got hold of myself, that was when it struck me how wrong I was, what a complete idiot I'd been. When I spotted you and Lucy crying together…all I can say is that I never felt worse about anything in my life. Ever since then, I could hardly show my face around the Cair. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep, and I've harbored a conscience full of shame and guilt."

Had Tumnus not heard with his own ears, he would never have believed it. Even now, he could scarcely take it in.

Seeing the incident from Terence's viewpoint, suddenly it all made perfect sense. Tumnus's tears began falling thicker and faster, and it felt like an iron claw had seized hold of his innards.

"Oh, Terence," the faun whispered tremulously, barely able to get his voice around the massive lump in his throat. "I…I didn't know."

"Forgive me, Tumnus," Terence wept again, as if pleading for his very soul. "Oh, forgive me. I'm such a horrible person. I don't deserve you. I don't deserve to be your brother, let alone your friend. Nothing can make what I've done right. I'll understand if you and Lucy want nothing more to do with me, ever again. But please, please…say that you forgive me."

"I forgive you, Terence." Tumnus said the words without hesitation, without preamble, and without a hint of fraudulence.

Very slowly, Terence lifted his face to the faun's again, and in his swimming eyes, amid the turbulent sorrow and remorse, there was genuine astonishment and downright disbelief.

"Y-you do?" the young man half-croaked.

"I do," said Tumnus solemnly, "with my whole heart. I already have, in fact, long before you set foot in here." Reaching up to cradle Terence's wet cheek, he entreated, "And will you, in turn, forgive me? I honestly had no idea you'd felt that way about Lucy and me, and I'm truly sorry for the pain we caused you—however unintentionally."

For the first time, the faintest traces of a smile graced Terence's lips, and Tumnus could swear he saw a flicker of the old spark in his companion's eyes.

Terence covered Tumnus's hand with his own, turned his head just enough to tenderly kiss the inside of the faun's palm. "If you can forgive me," the boy whispered, "how can I not do the same for you?"

Tumnus smiled through his tears also. He stood up on his hooves once more, gently hauling Terence to his feet as well as he did so.

Each gathered the other into his arms, and the two embraced long and hard. Their tears mingled together, gently washing away the bitterness and sadness of the previous year. In a way, Tumnus was grateful for last Christmas, for it made this Christmas all the sweeter. The faun was reminded anew of the true meaning of the holiday: love, mercy, forgiveness, peace, and brotherhood.

It was unknown how long they stood there and clung to one another, how long they wept together, but when at last the two brothers drew apart, Terence regarded Tumnus with inexpressible gratitude and love. He looked like a drowning man who'd been miraculously thrown a lifeline, or a man who'd had a tremendous burden lifted off his shoulders.

"Oh, thank you, Tumnus," he said fervently. "You are too kind. I really am too lucky to have someone like you in my life."

"I could say the same for you," Tumnus replied.

Then Terence's countenance became troubled once more. "I only hope Lucy can forgive me, too. I know I've yet to apologize to her."

"You can do so in the morning," said Tumnus. "If you'd like, I'll accompany you."

"Yes, I would very much appreciate that." Terence paused briefly. "But will Lucy believe me?"

"Just tell her what you told me. Explain what you've been feeling, let her know you're sincerely sorry, and then ask for her forgiveness. She'll give it to you willingly."

"Will she?" Terence sounded doubtful.

"If I know Lucy," said Tumnus sagely, "she is constitutionally unable to carry a grudge. The very minute she hears the words 'I'm sorry', she acts as if what had happened never happened to begin with." Resting his hand upon Terence's shoulder, the faun continued, "And if, by any slim chance, there is a flare-up, I will personally throw myself between you two."

That brought a short laugh out of Terence. Terence said no more, but moved in closer to Tumnus and enveloped him in one final hug. Tumnus readily returned the hug, lightly rocking Terence back and forth and lulling him like a child.

At one point, he kissed the white-haired youth on the forehead and crooned into his ear, "I love you, Terence…my dear brother."

"I love you, too," Terence whispered, from the inmost depths of his heart and soul, as one last tear slipped from his eye and made its salty trail down his cheek.

Terence stayed with Tumnus all the rest of that night. When the young men felt too tired to stay up any longer, Tumnus allowed Terence to climb into bed with him, and they slept close to one another's sides. It was easily the best sleep either of them had gotten in ages; they both slept soundly until morning. When Christmas morning arrived, after they had dressed and freshened up for the day, Terence promptly began to seek Lucy out. Tumnus followed.

Fortunately, it didn't take long at all to find Lucy, who, as it turned out, had been looking for them.

It took Terence a while to properly explain his behavior, and he faltered more than once. But Tumnus stayed with him the whole time, and Lucy listened to everything her friend had to tell her. Needless to say, all three of them became teary-eyed and choked up during Terence's sad story. Just like Tumnus, it had never occurred to Lucy that Terence had felt that way about her.

When Terence was through, he tearfully besought the young queen, "Oh, Lucy, can you ever forgive me?"

Just as Tumnus had predicted, it was against Lucy's nature to nurse a grudge. She didn't say it aloud, but her forgiveness was manifest in the smile that lit up her face, and in the way she threw herself at Terence and hugged him. Terence was startled, but only for a moment, and he readily folded Lucy into his arms as well. Lucy buried her face in the young man's shoulder, while he tenderly threaded his fingers through her coppery hair.

They clung to each other like that for a long time, unable to contain their tears, unable to help the sniffling. As they very slowly drew apart again, Lucy rose up on her tiptoes and kissed Terence's cheek.

"I love you," she said.

Terence knew what she meant by that—as a friend, as a brother; not a lover. Even so, the white-haired youth was glad and grateful to hear those sweet words.

It meant a great deal to him to know Lucy genuinely cared for him.

"Thank you," he answered softly.

Reaching into his pocket, the young man continued, "I have something for you."

"For me?" said Lucy hopefully.

"You and Tumnus both. Consider it an extra-special Christmas present…as well as my way of trying to make up for last year." Terence extracted a small box from his pocket and offered it to them. Lucy ended up being the one to take it.

It was extraordinarily small, small enough to fit in one's palm; but it was beautifully wrapped, and tied with a pretty red silk ribbon.

Painstakingly, Lucy loosened the ribbon and removed the paper, while Tumnus watched over her shoulder.

Inside a white box, tucked in a bed of purple velvet, were two exquisite rings. They were perfectly identical, as if one mirrored the other. They looked to be quite valuable, too: made of sterling silver, and each set with a tiny, genuine diamond.

Tumnus actually gasped at the sight of them, while Lucy whispered in awe, "Oh, Terence, they're beautiful!"

"There's one for each of you," said Terence. "When you wear them, they will serve as a sign to other people that you're already taken."

"Already taken?" Tumnus echoed.

Terence nodded solemnly. "They also serve as a special link between you two. So long as you both wear them, no matter where you are in the world, you'll be together forever."

That last part of his speech was all it took to melt Tumnus and Lucy completely.

Fresh tears began to stream down their faces, and if Terence lived to be a thousand, he would never forget the looks the girl and the faun gave him. With a sob, Lucy flung her arms about Terence once more, hugging him so fiercely it was a miracle she didn't break him. When Tumnus finally had the opportunity to hug his mate himself, he embraced the unicorn youth just as tightly, if not tighter.

"Oh, thank you, Terence," the faun wept into his neck. "You don't know how much this means to me, to both of us. Thank you, from the bottom of our hearts."

Terence said nothing, but his own arms tightened their grip significantly on the faun. Even after they'd let each other go, each kept one hand against the other's shoulder for another moment.

Lucy never hesitated to put one of the rings on her finger, and Tumnus slipped on the other. The rings fit perfectly. Lucy held out her hand toward a shaft of sunlight, so that the diamond sparkled.

"Thank you, Terence," she said once more, her voice still laced with emotion. "This is the best gift you could have ever given me. I'm never taking my ring off."

"Neither am I," said Tumnus as he admired his finger on which his own ring glinted. "I'll wear it and treasure it forever."

"And every time we look at them," said Lucy to Terence, "we'll be reminded of the most wonderful, most precious friend anyone ever had in the whole world."

It humbled Terence to his roots to hear this, even as his heart swelled to bursting with tenderness. "Well, you're both worth it," was the only appropriate response he could think of.

After a final round of hugs and kisses, and after taking some time to dry their tears and regain at least some self-control, Lucy beckoned, "Come on, let's find the others and join them." Knowing it was Christmas, after all, Tumnus readily linked his arm with Lucy's. Offering Terence her free arm, Lucy asked, "Care to accompany us, Terence?"

Terence accepted willingly. "It would be my pleasure."