BROTHERS

I've had the idea for this story on my mind for some time, but it wasn't until today that I had it all figured out. Once I started, it was pretty smooth sailing. I wrote consistently, from the beginning to the end, and it only took three or four hours. Considering it usually takes me days, weeks, and months (and, in some cases, years) to finish a story, this may be a new record for me.

Hope you like, folks, and bear in mind that Terence and Tumnus are not homosexual. This is purely brotherly love, or "bromance" as some call it.

Terence and Story © unicorn-skydancer08

All rights reserved.

If there were ever a more devoted pair of friends in Narnia than Tumnus the faun and Terence the white-haired half-human, you would have an extremely difficult time finding such a pair. The twosome did virtually everything together, and they were always there for each other, through thick and thin. Terence, who'd spent a good deal of his life entirely on his own, could hardly imagine what he would do if he didn't have Tumnus.

Tumnus gave him something to believe in, something to trust. He was sure Tumnus loved him; he knew he loved the faun.

One day, while Terence was walking one of the corridors of Castle Cair Paravel, he found Tumnus just around the corner. He was speaking to a group consisting of a centaur, a satyr, and two fauns. Not wanting to intrude, Terence stopped and stood still behind one of the great white columns. Neither Tumnus nor anyone else seemed aware of his presence.

"Well, Tumnus," one of the other fauns was saying, "I know we can count on seeing you and your friend Terence there."

"Oh, Terence is not my friend," Tumnus replied casually.

Terence's posture stiffened upon hearing this. Did he hear Tumnus right?

"He's not?" said the satyr, in a tone of mild surprise.

"Certainly not."

Again, Terence thought his ears had to be deceiving him. Surely, Tumnus didn't mean to say—

"But you two are inseparable," said the second faun, sounding perplexed. "You have been the absolute best of friends for years."

"Everyone at the Cair hardly sees you without Terence somewhere nearby," added the centaur.

"That's true," said Tumnus. "But Terence is not my friend. He's not even my best friend. That's poppycock."

Terence felt as if a sharp knife had been plunged into his heart. For a moment, he literally couldn't breathe. The young man flattened himself against the marble wall, one hand clutching his chest, his eyes at least three times their usual size, his face as white as his hair and beard. No, he protested inwardly, that could not be true! He could not believe it!

Yet it was true. It had all come from Tumnus's own lips.

Slowly, like thawing snow, Terence's shock and numb disbelief melted away, and hot tears pooled in his eyes while hot grief welled up in his bowels. Did this mean Tumnus didn't care about him after all? That all that time he had spent with Tumnus, all those years he'd trusted the faun—it was a lie? Terence sickened at the notion.

At first, the devastated youth couldn't speak, or even move. He was at an utter loss of what to think or what to do. Finally, Terence simply whirled around and ran away, hiding his face in both hands as he did so. He didn't need to look up, since he was part unicorn (and unicorns rarely stumbled or bumped into anything) and he already knew the halls of the Cair by heart. Not once did he stop, slacken his pace, or turn back—and if anyone saw him, he neither knew nor cared.

All through the remainder of that day, Terence stayed shut up in his private chambers. He would have nothing to do with the other residents of the Cair, though all who passed his door could clearly hear the heart-rending sobs and wails coming from the other side, with the occasional sound of something breaking or striking the wall. Every time the mere thought of Tumnus came to mind, Terence got even more upset, were such a thing possible.

Toward dusk, when all was quiet and still in Terence's room, the white-haired youth could be found on his knees alongside his bed. His arms were folded together on top of the bedspread, and his forehead rested against his arms. He had wept, but his tears had long since run dry, and now he just stayed where he was, having neither the strength nor the will to move.

Despite his physical exhaustion, his mind continued to reel, and his heart felt broken beyond repair.

How could Tumnus do this to him? How could he, himself, have been so blind? How could he have ever given his love and trust to someone like that traitorous faun?

Terence wished he were dead. He certainly couldn't think about living, least of all with this agony that consumed him like fire.

How long the youth knelt in that spot, in that hopeless position, there was no earthly way of knowing. When a knock sounded on his door, Terence paid no attention. The knocking continued, growing increasingly louder and more forceful. Still, Terence made no response—until Tumnus's voice called to him from the other side. "Terence? Terence, it's me. Open up!"

Slowly, Terence's head lifted off his arms, the tiniest bit of perplexity mingling with his sorrow, dismay, and anger. What was Tumnus doing here?

Had he come to make things worse? Terence didn't see how he could do so.

Even though Terence tried to ignore the faun's call, he found himself back on his feet, and his feet automatically carried him to the door. Seeing Tumnus's face before him when he drew the door aside caused fresh pain to stab at his heart, and he was torn between wanting to hug the faun and wanting to choke him.

"Oh, Terence," said Tumnus, looking and sounding very concerned.

"What do you want?" Terence asked dully.

"I wanted to see if you were all right."

Terence repressed the desire to snort and roll his eyes at the ceiling. A likely story, he thought bitterly.

Without another word, the youth turned away from Tumnus, and Tumnus followed him into the room, the thick carpet muffling the sound of his hooves.

"Are you all right, Terence? Something seems to be troubling you. What is it?"

Terence only shrugged his shoulders and answered, his tone low and cold, "What do you care?" Tumnus had made it clear he didn't want anything to do with him.

"Of course, I care." Tumnus sounded both surprised and hurt.

"No, you don't."

"How can you say that?"

"Don't act like you don't even know, Tumnus."

"Terence, I don't understand…" Terence felt the faun's hand on his shoulder, and Terence didn't hesitate to jerk away.

"Don't touch me."

"Terence?" Now Tumnus seemed truly baffled.

"Just go away," Terence ordered, as tears he didn't realize he was capable of shedding anymore leaked out onto his face. "I don't need you, Tumnus—no less than you need me."

"What are you saying, Terence?"

"Don't think I'm stupid, you two-faced faun. I know the truth about you."

"The truth?" Tumnus echoed incredulously.

"I found out everything I needed to know this morning. I heard you talking—and I heard you say that I was not your friend." It nearly killed Terence to repeat those awful words.

"No, you're not." Tumnus said it just like that, pure and simple.

Terence felt these words strike him with the force of a giant hammer, and his legs almost gave way from beneath him. His tears started falling thicker and faster, while the muscles in his throat tightened until he could scarcely breathe. He wanted to run away, get as far away from Tumnus as possible, but he couldn't get his body to cooperate with him; his feet seemed to be glued to the floor. At least a thousand angry and hurt words hovered on the boy's tongue, but the only words to which he could give proper utterance were, "That's what I'd thought you said."

Then Tumnus added on, "Because you're so much more than that."

Now Terence did turn to look at the faun properly. "Wh-what was that?" he half-croaked.

"You're beyond my friend, Terence," said Tumnus softly, his gaze solemn and steady. "You're my brother."

Terence blinked. "Your…brother?"

"Yes." By this time, Tumnus's china-blue eyes were swimming in their own pool of tears. "You're like blood, Terence. You have come to mean more to me than anything in the world."

Terence continued to stare at the faun in disbelief. "Do you truly mean that?" he asked when he had regained sufficient use of his tongue.

"May I be struck dead here and now if I don't."

There was a long moment of silence between the two. Once more, Terence was at a loss of what to do or say; his emotions were all in one great, thick tangle. Tumnus ended up making the first move. Slowly, the faun moved in closer to Terence and wrapped his arms around the youth's shoulders. That was all it took to shatter Terence like a piece of brittle glass.

He promptly engulfed Tumnus in his own arms, sobbing unrestrainedly into the faun's neck and hugging him until it hurt. Tumnus's face came to rest against Terence's neck, so that Terence felt the warm trickle on his own skin. In no time at all, the two brothers were lost in a tangled mess of limbs and tears. Terence barely had the strength to stand; he might have fallen to the floor had Tumnus not been there to uphold him.

"Oh, Tumnus," he wept, feeling a full measure of shame and guilt, "Tumnus…forgive me!"

"Terence," was all Tumnus could say in a choked voice.

It was unknown how long they clung to each other like that, but when at last they were gazing into one another's glistening faces, Terence begged again, "Forgive me, Tumnus."

"Of course, I forgive you," Tumnus replied, with a weak, watery smile.

His smile faded as he entreated humbly, "And will you, in turn, forgive me? If I have hurt you, I am truly sorry. I'm sorry for the terrible misunderstanding. Forgive me, Terence?"

Terence responded to this by placing his hands on his dear brother's cheeks and kissing him tenderly on the forehead.

"Does that answer your question?" he asked Tumnus afterward.

Tumnus smiled again. "It certainly does, mate. You've convinced me."

He took hold of one of Terence's hands and placed a tender kiss to the backs of the fingers. "I love you."

For the first time, Terence felt a true smile spread over his own face, from end to end.

"And I love you, brother," he whispered, and meant it from the depths of his heart and soul.