Private Tales Falling Snow..

[Ivar]

As the sailor drew closer and looked down at Willa his face softened a bit. He still held the knife, and the other men around them didn't ease much, but Ivar saw the way that the older man shifted his stance.

It was enough. "We're running from her husband."

He lied.

It was a good lie, and with Willa's face a rather believable one. The sailor seemed to shift for a moment, looking down at the girl, then back to Ivar, then back to Willa. His gaze focused on her for a few seconds and The Barbarian quickly added to the story.

"He beats her." He explained. "Every few weeks, but Every time she's told the guard it only makes it worse. His brother is a Captain you see and…"

Ivar trailed off as the Seaman waved his hand, looking down at Willa.

"This true, lass?"

 

[Willa]

Willa’s brow furrowed and her jaw clenched, trying to push down a churn of nausea in her stomach. Gods, the thought of being married to Rhist. She couldn’t imagine anything worse...

She looked between Ivar and the sailor as they spoke, biting on her lip to stop her trying to speak. The sailer seemed to be buying his story, and as the man asked her if it were true she looked at him. Her eyes pooled instantly and tears fell freely onto her pale face. She didn’t need to act, it was true enough, and she nodded sincerely to the man and recoiled her hand to grip hold of Ivar’s furs once more as though reiterating her need of him.

 

[Ivar]

He could see the sailors features soften, and Ivar let out a sigh of relief. There were few good men in the southlands, but it seemed they had at the very least found a decent one. Lucky that he was here.

"Alright lad, we'll bring ye across the River. You can keep your gold. Sounds like you'll be needing it."

Ivar looked up at the man with unfeigned gratitude, mostly because he didn't have a single speck of gold actually on him. The Guards had taken it all when he'd been arrested, and even then he'd really only had a few coppers and silver pieces.

Seems Willa was a good luck charm of sorts.

"Get a longboat ready, Finn, make sure they get to land then head back to us."

"Thank you." Ivar said as he picked Willa up again and moved towards the other side of the boat, still using her form to hide away the manacles on his wrists.

On the opposite bank of the river Kyslith was now floating away, the men on the dock appearing to be smaller and smaller as the ship crawled towards the other edge. Ivar took in a breath, calming himself as the sailor readied the long boat.

 

[Willa]

She forced a shaky smile with difficulty. She'd almost forgotten what it felt like to smile at all and the simple movement of it physically hurt thanks to the swelling. A sigh escaped her lips as she was lifted again, and rather than fight it she held on to soak in a little more warmth. She couldn't very well fight him and expect them to believe their story now..

Glassy blue eyes watched as the docks grew further away, her brow knit and her breaths short and sharp as she hoped she never set foot in that city again. Her eyes closed, trying to shove the memory of it out of her mind, but she wasn't sure she ever would. She gripped hold of Ivar and pressed her bruised face against his chest with a deep huff, trying to believe that she was safe. In this moment, she was. Her past was a nightmare, and she had little hope for whatever lay ahead.. But for now, she'd try to stop shaking and crying and rest her mind and body for a little while.

 

[Ivar]

They made it to the other side of the river by nightfall.

By the grace of the World Serpent he had somehow managed to escape death, and he'd dragged Willa out alongside him. He was not sure the why, but it would have been a lie to say that he wasn't glad to be alive.

Ivar was still carrying Willa in his arms as the Boatman left, offering a single nod to the man as he turned around and began to walk a bit into the stark forest that lined the opposite bank. The moons were beginning to rise, their full light spilling onto the earth as he walked.

"I suggest you stay with me until dawn." He told Willa softly, the manacles still around his wrists.

"I know your...people are probably looking for you." At least he still assumed. "But they won't find much if you get lost in the dark."

Not that he had any idea of where he was going either.

 

[Willa]

Willa had fallen asleep in his arms. The last few days had caught up with her, and she couldn't fight sleep any more, now whilst she was safe enough to do so. It took her a while to bring herself back around, and her eyes blinked heavily at Ivar as he spoke to her. She nodded at his suggestion, but her brow furrowed at his assumption.

She cleared her throat and tried to speak but nothing more than a strangled breath made it past her lips and so she shook her head instead, mouthing the word no. Nobody was looking for her, at least nobody that wanted her safe. There wasn't anybody left who wanted her safe. Though, he seemed to, for some reason, she wasn't about to run off on her own.

Willa patted him on the chest and shifted, aware that he'd been carrying her weight for quite some time and she'd try to walk from here.

 

[Ivar]

Ivar blinked for a moment, not really sure what she was trying to communicate. Was she trying to say she wouldn't stay with him or that people weren't looking for her?

His fingers tightened for a moment, and he simply shrugged his shoulders as she patted his chest. He figured his answer would likely come the moment he set her down. If Willa booked it and ran off it'd be rather obvious she didn't want to stay.

"Can you..." Ivar frowned as he shifted and slowly set her down onto the ground. "Can you not talk?"

He was fairly sure that he would have heard that of her back home in Kjos. A noble without a voice would have been marked as an omen of some sort, but she had seemed surprised at her. His hands unfurled form her and he left her standing on her own two feet.

The Barbarian took half a step back, just to make sure she did not strike him or something of the sort.

 

[Willa]

Willa grimaced slightly as he set her down, biting down on her lip as she expected the familiar lance of pain that came with walking of late. She managed to keep most of her weight on her good leg as thus, stayed upright. She sighed at his question and made some sort of sound in frustration, something akin to a growl as she rubbed at her forehead. Her head shook in response, her pale hand resting over her throat as she looked back at him in confusion. She didn't know why her words refused to come out, and assumed she'd broken her voice with screaming. Her throat still felt raw and ragged, and she hoped her voice would return when the pain eased.

She watched him as he took a step back, and she stayed where she was for a moment as though half expecting the same thing from him. Her brow rose, and she looked down at his manacled wrists and held out a hand toward them, her gaze lifting to his eyes as though asking permission to touch them.

 

[Ivar]

Ivar looked down at his hands as she gestured towards the steel.

For a brief moment confusion pulled at his lips. To his mind there was not much that she could do. He had no idea of her powers of course, and he had not looked back to see the Bandit quite literally shatter. Lips thinned for a moment and then he shrugged. "Go ahead."

Was she going to use them like a leash?

He was an exile, and compared to her status of nobility that might as well have made him a slave. A breath pulled into his chest.

"I'll find a smith or something to break them." Ivar said, assuming she was going to inspect the manacles. "Most will take a few coin and look the other way."

Not that he had any coin.

 

[Willa]

He had gotten her out of there, he'd given her the opportunity that she needed to be free of Rhist, to step off the doomed path she was on. There wasn't much she could do to repay him, but she could at least help with this small thing. Her fingers curled around the chain and she pulled in a slow breath and let it out, the icy blue of her eyes drowned by white as her sight left her.

She focused the magic on the metal in her hand, but she couldn't stop the air around her from chilling, and her slow breaths were once again visible. Thick frost crept over the restraint, the creaking sound of ice crystallising making her spine shudder. Her brow furrowed and her milky eyes closed as she focused until the links were entirely frozen, and she looked up at him with a nod, gesturing for him to pull his wrists apart and she bit down on her lip, hoping it would work.

 

[Ivar]

Ivar blinked, but did as he was quietly instructed.

His arms flexed, and then he slowly pulled them apart. There was a crack and then a shattering of steel as the manacles around his wrists broke away and fell into pieces. The Barbarian looked down bewildered, shooting her a glance.

"Magic." He whispered quietly.

Back home Magic was not reviled, though it was not well understood. Those who could use it were often looked upon with either suspicion, or worship. Was that why she was all the way out here? Had they taken her from home because of her magic?

Lips thinned, but he did not take another step back. "Thank you."

He said, rubbing his wrists with a grimace as he noted the soreness of his skin.

"We should get a bit more away from the river." Ivar said slowly. "Then build a fire. It'll be cold tonight."

Though he wondered if that even mattered to someone like her.

 

[Willa]

Willa blinked as she felt the metal shatter in her hands and her brow furrowed thanks to a sudden lance of pain through her mind. She wiped at a single trickle of blood from her nose abs quickly gathered her cloak to pull it tightly around her, her shoulders lifting with a shiver of cold as he thanked her. Her magic had its flaws, but it wasn’t particularly well practised given where she’d grown up.

At the mention of fire, she nodded quickly, her glacial eyes glassy with tears that wouldn’t fall. She wore a look of gratitude and longing at the thought of warmth, and she stepped back a little, ready to follow.

 

[Ivar]

Ivar nodded, deciding that any other words would have fallen flat at the moment.

The Barbarian was not entirely sure still just what this all meant. Willa hadn't said a word, but it seemed she was keen on staying with him for now. That was enough to make him keep going, at least long enough to make it till the next day.

He and Willa walked for an hour, their pace slow but enough that it took them away from the River and anyone who might have been pursuing them. Eventually they reached a small rock outcropping, Ivar guiding Willa towards its.

"Here is good." He said, gathering sticks as they approached the stone. "I'll start the fire, bundle yourself with this."

Ivar said as he pulled off the heavy fur cloak around. "Least till we have a flame."

 

[Willa]

She tried her best not to hold him back, but she was glad of the slow pace. Her jaw hurt from clenching almost as much as her leg did from walking, and she’d been a few steps short of giving up when he stopped and she let out a breath and leaned against a tree, clutching hold of it and unable to hide her grimace. She wouldn’t cry, no matter how much she felt like it.

Willa looked at the offered cloak and frowned in confusion. It was as though she’d entirely forgotten that there was such a thing as kindness, and she rose her eyes to meet his as though waiting for some sort of trick. None came, and she bit her lip and reached to take it from him. It was warm, and she let out an audible sigh as she wrapped it around her shoulders and slipped to the cradle of the tree roots and pulled her broken body into as tight a ball as she could.

 

[Ivar]

Ivar watched Willa for a few moments, a frown on his face. He wondered what sort of abuses the girl had faced, what she had endured. The marks on her flesh told a story, but he was not entirely sure what sort it did.

Nor did he want to ask.

The Barbarian stayed silent, quickly setting himself to work, Ivar built the fire that he had promised. Small sticks were gathered followed by larger logs. Within a short span of time he had also found flint, and with quick strikes he set them a fire.

"I remember my 'Da teaching me how to do this" Ivar said, almost as if trying to idly speak on something just to break the silence. "Don't think he'd ever thought I'd end up doing it in the southlands."

He mused as the sticks sparked into a proper fire.

 

[Willa]

She'd been staring off into nothingness until his voice dragged her back to the present and she blinked and lifted her head a little. She nodded slowly and sighed, the smallest of smiles forming on her lips for a brief moment as she thought of her own father and her home. She'd have liked to ask him his name, where in the Tundra he'd been from, what he was doing here..why he'd helped her. She didn't know him, at least she didn't think so, but he gave her a sense of familiarity at least, and she took comfort in that.

As the warmth of the fire made it's way to her face she let out a deep sigh and shuffled closer, dipping her chin and mouthing the words 'thank you'. It was a thank you for more than just building a fire, and so she made sure to hold his gaze for a little longer, hoping he'd take her meaning.

 

[Ivar]

He hesitated a moment, then nodded. "You're welcome."

This was not a situation Ivar had exactly thought that he would ever find himself in. There was a strangeness to being here, it felt...off. The southlands had a way of constantly putting him in that state, but it was more pronounced now.

Perhaps because he in part felt she should not have been here.

"Were you going to Elbion?" Ivar had never been there, but traveling around long enough on the continents he had learned about the College of Mages. "Because of your magic?"

Back home they had Witches, but there was no official 'training' for anyone. You just did everything on your own, something that could sometimes turn out to be rather deadly.

 

[Willa]

Willa's gaze narrowed slightly but she nodded at his question. There was more to it than that, but nothing she could explain without her voice. She tried to use it again and winced at the pain, followed by a huff in frustration.

A shaky hand emerged from under the cloak to point at him, mouthing the word 'you' and arching her brow in question before pulling her hand quickly back inside the fur.

 

[Ivar]

Well this was going to be interesting. He was almost sure now that Willa had been able to speak at one point but for some reason could not now. There could be a dozen reasons, but he thought it was likely to do with the man that had been holding her.

Briefly he frowned, and then he shrugged his shoulders. "There wasn't much opportunity for me in Kjos. I thought I'd go south for Mercenary work."

It had seemed like a good idea at the time.

"It went well for a few months, but turns out Kyslith doesn't like Mercenaries." Something about them tarnishing their forces, though of course Ivar had no idea that was just a cover in order to send foreigners to the executioners block where their corpses would eventually be churned out into the cities undead servants. "They arrested me, I tried fighting, and..."

Ivar shrugged.

 

[Willa]

Kjos?...

The mention of the city seemed to catch her attention and she sat up, her pale hand appearing again to tap tap at her chest. 'My home.' she tried to mouth, and pointed to him, and then back to herself. Gods this was frustrating.

She blinked, and threw off his fur cloak to grab at the clasp of her own. It was quite literally, the only thing she still had that belonged to her. The clasp was made of silver, and had been stamped with her family's sigil, a marking of a crescent moon, a Tundran rune that would undoubtedly be known to someone who'd lived in her city.

 

[Ivar]

Ivar blinked, and then nodded his head. "Yes, I know."

He was confused, had she not recognized him?

The realization then struck him that of course she would not have. He was no one, nothing compared to her. The son of the Exile. Even if his father hadn't been convicted in their little town he would just have been another village boy.

Nothing of note.

"I recognized you from the platform." He told her, though it would have been more accurate to say he recognized her hair. "I am Ivar, son of Varun the Exile. You were there the day my father was sentenced."

He remembered everyone who was there. All of their faces.

 

[Willa]

Willa sat back and stared at him. She'd been much younger, but she remembered that name. It wasn't a name that had been forgotten, either, she'd heard it many times since. Her mind was cast back to that day. Now she remembered him. She remembered not understanding why her father was sending a young boy away and wondering where they would go. He hadn't done anything wrong..

She let go of her clasp foolishly and dropped her gaze with shame. He'd been cast from his home, by her family, and here he was dragging her to safety and he'd known who she was all along. She bit on her swollen lip for a moment before lifting her eyes back to him, taking the fur cloak and holding it out for him to take. She had no right to take anything more from him.

'I'm sorry Ivar.' she mouthed slowly with a frown in apology.

 

[Ivar]

Ivar shrugged, taking his hand and pushing the fur cloak back towards her. The expression on his face was odd, unreadable. There was no anger to it, perhaps a bit of surprise.

The Barbarian had never really been particularly angry about his fathers exile. He had been sad, depressed, and once or twice had fallen into a rage because of the conditions...but for some reason he had always just accepted it.

Perhaps because that was what his father had always told him to do. "It is the past."

He commented with a shrug.

"Seems we ended up in the same place anyway." Ivar let out a wry chuckle. Not really sure what to make of that fact.

 

[Willa]

Willa sighed deeply as she looked down at the cloak, and she gave a small smile as she pulled it back around her shoulders and wrapped it tightly around her again. It felt a little warmer than it had before. She frowned as he spoke, knowing well that sometimes just because something was in the past, that it didn't make it hurt any less.

She gave a slow nod, but his chuckle done nothing to ease the weight of her reality and she buried her face in her hands to cry silently. She'd always been a preacher of hope, but now, her life had been saved for what? She had nothing, nobody, no home or family and no voice. If there was a rock bottom, she was buried beneath it and right now it was crushing her. The past few days had been the worst she'd ever known. She hadn't had time to mourn her friends, she hadn't had time to heal her wounds or recover from Rhist, she hadn't eaten, had hardly slept and honestly death would've been a welcomed reprieve.

 

[Ivar]

Ivar frowned, realizing that he had fucked up. His lips thinned for a moment and he looked at her with no small amount of concern. With a hand he reached out and gently patted her on the shoulders. "H-hey."

He was not equipped for this.

"It's alright." Ivar remembered the handful of times he had broken down during Exile. When the other children had refused to play, when he'd missed a deer they had been hunting for days. The memories were still buried deep in his mind, yet they were called forth here.

"We have a fire. I'll find us some food." The forests here were rich with game, something he'd learned before reaching the city. "It's not so bad."

Of course, for Ivar this wasn't too dissimilar from most of his life. For Willa? For her it was an entirely different story.