Private Tales Falling Snow..

[Willa]

Her body was rigid with tension as he patted her shoulders and she couldn't help but flinch like a beaten dog. She lifted her head to look at him with defeat and pain, her head shaking slowly with a refusal to accept that it wasn't 'so bad'.. It was worse. She hadn't even bathed.. Her hands ran into her hair and she gripped at it, a few more silent sobs escaping her lips as she curled herself into a ball and closed her eyes. Perhaps, she could forget for an hour or so.

 

[Ivar]

Ivar didn't touch her again, mostly because she had flinched so hard he was sure she would rather have him run away. His lips thinned for a brief moment, and he simply shook his head as he scooted away just a bit and spoke up.

"I'm going to see if I can't find us some food." The Barbarian suggested quietly.

They had not been keeping him in prison for long, but long enough that he had missed a meal or two. That and the fight in the square today had taken quite a bit out of him. He was hungry, and his stomach was quietly grumbling as they sat there.

"I'll be back." He told her softly. "Just an hour or so."

That was all he would need, even with only his bare hands.

 

[Willa]

She didn't open her eyes, but she gave a nod as he said he'd be back.. Would he? She wouldn't blame him for leaving her here, she wasn't much good to anyone and she'd only be a burden to him. Perhaps he'd recognised her and rescued her because he knew she came from wealth, by now he'd have fully realised she didn't have anything at all. She tried to push the thoughts aside. Either way, she wasn't going anywhere, she'd lie here until he returned and if he never did, she'd lie here until she starved and froze to death as she had nothing to battle on for anyway.

She managed to doze off for a little while, and when she woke he still hadn't returned. She felt a little warmer, at least, she'd stopped shaking for the most part, and she sat herself up to scoot a little closer to the fire to sit. Her body ached, and she glanced around into the darkness of the trees before lifting her skirts up over her thigh to untie the dressings and check on her wound. She frowned at it and hissed inward through her teeth as she pressed a fingertip to the surrounding flesh. Whatever Rhist had put on it had long since worn off. She peered down inside her dress to check on another wound, and she pressed the back of her hand to her lips as she fought down the urge to vomit.

 

[Ivar]

"Ain't much of a medic." Ivar said as he came back into the clearing, his steps quiet but his hands clutching a pair of rabbits.

One might have wondered just how the Barbarian had managed to catch the two hares without any weapon at all, but the only answer they would receive would be a smile. Ivar had prided himself on being a hunter, in the Tundra it was a valued skilled.

"But we can find you a healer in a village." Since apparently she didn't have people looking for her. Something that still confused him. "They'll know better than I would."

Healing herbs were not something his father had been able to teach him. They had always relied on an old Witch for that sort of thing. "But some food will help you heal."

He said, holding up his bounty.

 

[Willa]

Willa near died of fright as Ivar spoke, her body jolting and her heart stumbling over itself so that it rattled in her chest. Her head whipped around and she settled her wide gaze on him, quickly re-covering her legs and settling a hand on her chest as she tried to calm. She let out a slow breath, and as her eyes fell upon the hares he'd caught, her brows rose and her stomach gave a hungry growl in response.

Her lips twitched into some semblance of a smile as he held up their meal, and she gave a nod of approval and pulled the fur cloak back around her shoulders. She watched him then, feeling a new sense of appreciation since he'd not only come back, but he'd come back with food. He could've caught one rabbit and it'd have been enough to feed him, but he'd gone to the trouble of catching another. He may have been a barbarian, but he was kind, and she needed that kindness more than he could ever realise.

 

[Ivar]

He looked at her awkwardly for a moment. "Sorry."

Ivar said with a frown.

"Da taught me plenty about living in the wilds, not much about manners." His lips thinned for a brief moment and he shook his head regretfully, as if remembering something but trying not to. "Not polite to sneak up on a lady."

He supposed that was a lesson he didn't need to be taught.

Without another word the Barbarian quickly set about cleaning and skinning the rabbits, using a piece of flattened shale rock that he chipped quickly to do the job. It was messier than it would have been with a knife, but Ivar didn't seem to mind.

"We'll need to get some coin." He told Willa with a frown. "Otherwise we're not gonna get far."

If she noted carefully, He did his best to reserve the small rabbit pelts.

 

[Willa]

Willa lifted a hand into the air and shook her head in dismissal of his apology, and she settled down a little more comfortably to watch him work. She’d always just, been given food when it had been caught and cooked, and given clothes and blankets when the fur had been skinned and tended, but she found the process a little fascinating.

Her head tilted quizzically at him as he spoke of coin. Another thing she’d always just had. She’d never felt so out of her depth in her life..

‘How?’ She mouthed.

 

[Ivar]

As Ivar finished skinning the rabbits he placed both of the corpses over the fire, fitting them on stakes before slowly shifting his weight and looking back at her.

It took the Barbarian a few seconds to interpret what she was asking him. This whole 'mute' thing was more difficult than he would have thought. Briefly he wished that he had learned the languages of hands or something of the sort. It would have been easier.

"We sell the pelts for one." He said, gesturing to the rabbit hides. "That will get us a few coppers which should be enough for a knife."

From there they could work their way up. "Usually I just sign up as a mercenary with a Band somewhere but..."

He looked at her.

"I don't think we can do that." At least he assumed.

 

[Willa]

Willa's brow quirked at his answer, the corner of her mouth twitching slightly as she threatened to smile. She couldn't help but be a little impressed by his resourcefulness, rather than resorting to thievery he planned on working his way up from nothing. She gave a small nod in approval at his plan, but her brow furrowed as he mentioned mercenary work, her icy gaze meeting his a little more intensely.

He felt responsible for her, even still.She'd expected he'd be leaving her at the nearest village, and for that she'd have been grateful. There was guilt in her eyes as she pointed at her chest and shook her head slowly before reaching out and resting a tremulous hand on his chest and nodding at him. 'You can.'..

She would be worse than a man down. Willa was a speaker, well, at least she had been. She wished she'd learned a little more about looking after herself, she just never expected she'd really have to.

 

[Ivar]

Ivar watched her for a moment, shaking his head. "I could but that would mean leaving you behind and well..."

This was where those 'manners' likely would have come in handy again.

"I don't think that would be a good idea." Not in her current state, not when she couldn't say a single word. It would be like leaving a calf in the middle of the Tundra. The Dire Wolves would snap her up in half a second.

His father had taught him better than that.

The southlands were barbaric in their own ways. Slavers still trawled these lands, not to mention bandits and the sort that no one would want to be associated with. His fingers tightened for a moment on one of the pits, turning it over the fire so the rabbit was cooked eagerly.

"I'll find you a way back to Kjos." Ivar said simply. "Might take a month or two, but I'll figure it out."

That would be safe at least, in his mind anyway.

 

[Willa]

Willa’s eyes pooled with tears and her brow furrowed at him, her head shaking slowly as she mouthed the word 'why'? She didn't understand why he cared, particularly when her own family had banished him from their home. Willa had nothing to offer, she was nothing but a burden.

As he mentioned Kjos however, her head shook a little more frantically, she tried to say no but the word was strangled with silence and she grimaced at the pain in her throat. She figured she'd gotten her point across, but she couldn't help but let out a deep huff in frustration and she rubbed irritably at her face.

 

[Ivar]

Ivar was starting to get confused.

He had never been the smartest man, nor the most clever. He was good at fighting, good at hunting, good at fu-well, good at a lot of things, but puzzles like this weren't exactly his strong point. Lips thinned for a moment before he spoke up. "Why not Kjos?"

The Barbarian asked, ignoring her other question for the moment.

It was mostly because he had no answer for it. He didn't know why he was helping her, why he didn't just walk away. It would have been easier, it would even have been an odd sort of justice...but it was not what his father had taught him.

The north stuck together.

That was what his father had said. That was what he'd been taught. Even in Exile his father had garnered small favors. Help from those who would still give it. Even as a shamed one they had helped. Perhaps this was no different.

 

[Willa]

How did she explain the answer to that question without the use of her voice? Her father was dead, her uncle wanted everything and no loose ends. She lifted her glassy gaze to him and sighed, her head shaking as she looked around as though in search of some visible answer. She tapped her fingertips to her chest, before drawing her index finger across her bruised throat.

 

[Ivar]

He blinked. "Someone there wants you dead?"

Ivar wasn't exactly a genius, but that gesture didn't require an academic education to understand. His lips thinned for a moment, and he tried to think when he had left Kjos. It seemed like a hundred moons ago now, but he couldn't have said for sure.

When he'd been home things had still been normal, at least relatively so. He couldn't think of why anyone would want Willa dead.

"Who?" He frowned. "Why?"

There were a thousand questions he had, but most of them were born of an ignorance of the politics that presented themselves back home.

Though perhaps he should not have been too surprised, he himself was a walking picture of the brutality the North could offer.

 

[Willa]

Willa nodded in response to the easy question, but the others were a little more difficult to explain with head shakes and hand gestures. Her shoulders rose and fell with a deep huff and her head shook hopelessly before trying her best to slowly mouth the words to him.

‘My father was killed. My uncle wants his city.’ She frowned and her hand rested on the blackened skin of her throat.

‘They sent him after me..’ she added and dropped her gaze, pulling her knees in against her to hug them tightly and resting her chin atop them as she watched the fire.

 

[Ivar]

'translating' what she mouthed to him was difficult. He really only caught every other word and by the end he was sounding out and mimicking her own lip movements so that he could hopefully catch what she was actually trying to say.

A frowned touched his face as he tried to puzzle it all out, his lips thinning as it snapped into place. "Your Uncle?"

Ivar tried to remember Willa's Uncle, but found that the face escaped him. Her father he could recall well enough. He had been the man to read his fathers sentence, the one to exile him in the first place. It would have been a lie to say that Ivar would mourn him.

He glanced up at her for a moment, frowning at the thought. He was not fool enough to ever say such a thing out loud.

"Well shit." Ivar said quietly. "So what do you want to do?"

Because he sure as fuck had no idea.

Politics was far, far above his head.

 

[Willa]

She gave another nod as he seemed to understand and gave a deep sigh at his question. The look she gave him was one of hopeless resignation as she shrugged at him. There wasn’t much she could do, her uncle had people convinced that her magic was somehow to blame for her father’s death, she didn’t have any family left who would side with her and her father’s people already sat under her uncle’s rule. He sat in her father’s chair, slept in his bed, ate at his table. There was no room for Willa, and he’d succeeded in terrifying people with talk of her magic. White Witch, she’d heard him call her. The name seemed to stick.

Rand and Rob had been all she’d had left, and another few silent tears fell as she thought of them. Somehow, her uncle had managed to take more from her even from so far away. He’d won, and she’d given up fighting.

The smell of the roasting meat caused her stomach to rumble with a hollow sound and she chewed silently on her lip as she watched it cook.

 

[Ivar]

The answer, or rather, the lack of one was more than clear for Ivar. He frowned for a brief moment, his lips thinning as he decided perhaps now was not the time to push the issue.

Both of them were a long way off from the future anyway. All they had to their name right now was the clothes on their back and some rabbit pelts. That wasn't much, and it certainly wasn't going to get them...well anywhere really.

Especially not home. His head shook and he looked back towards the rabbits as he quite literally heard her stomach rumble. "Here."

Ivar said quietly as he pulled one of the rabbits off the spit and handed it over towards Willa. Their meal wouldn't exactly be elegant, but it was enough to fill the stomach and more so.

As they sat and ate Ivar contemplated what she had said, thought about how it made him feel. The man who had sentenced his father was dead, a new ruler now there. What did that mean for him? Would home be any better for him? Or would people still see him as little more than the dirt.

He couldn't help but wonder.

 

[Willa]

She looked up as he spoke and she managed a small smile as she accepted the food with a silent ‘thank you’, and she wasted no time in tearing into meat and devouring it. She was starving, and cared little for appearance, deciding to use her teeth to rip the meat from the bones. The more she ate, the warmer and more sleepy she felt, but she made sure to savour every morsel before throwing the bones back onto the fire and licking the grease from her fingers.

Willa dragged her bruised wrists across her lips and let her head fall back, casting her gaze toward the heavens beyond the canopy of trees that sheltered them. A deep sigh escaped, and she enjoyed the feeling of a full stomach. She removed the fur cloak once again and offered it back, figuring he’d be cold trying to sleep without it. She’d curl up as close to the fire as she could and settle down for the night.

 

[Ivar]

Ivar took the cloak, though as soon as Willa was passed out back on the floor the garment was immediately laid down back on top of her as a blanket.

The Southlands were warm, even in the middle of Winter he had never much minded the temperatures. Perhaps his years in Kjos had spoiled him with cold and much as he liked, it was difficult for him to feel such temperatures even now.

His eyes cast towards the fire, feeding it another bundle of sticks.

Many questions hung over his head. Thoughts of the past, the future. This morning he had thought himself bound for death, now he sat here as a man with options. It was an odd juxtaposition, no tone that he had thought he would find himself in.

Ivar did not sleep for a long while, though by the time the dawn came he too was soundly slumbering.

 

[Willa]

Her body had no choice but to shut down and rest, but her mind had no such reprieve. Her whole nightmare had started over again, and she woke to find Rhist standing over Ivar with a blade that dripped with blood before he turned on her and dragged her by the hair straight back to Kislyth, to the inn.

"You still haven't learned your lesson..."

If she had a voice to scream with she'd have used it as her body jolted awake only to find it happen again, and again, a never ending horror. Finally, she fell back to reality and sat bolt upright and dragged in a lungful of air which she coughed back out. Her chest heaved with every panicked breath and a cold swear clung to her alabaster skin, a few strands of silvery hair stuck to her face. She twisted and turned, her head whipping this way and that as she frantically searched the wood around them with terrified whimpers and sobs, half expecting to see his yellow eyes peering out at her.

 

[Ivar]

She would find no eyes.

In fact she would find nothing but silence and the small crackle of embers still popping in the fire pit that Ivar had built the night before. The morning air was cold and damp, rain clouds hung above them, and a crack of thunder echoed in the far distance.

It would be a dreary day.

Willa's sudden jolt into consciousness did not rouse Ivar immediately, the Barbarian sleeping like a bear that had found it's winter cave.

The previous day had been hard on him. He had fought his way through guards, jumped to a ship, and his body wore on him now. He was no mage of mystic, a reality that drove in on him now as he still slept. Seeking what rest he could get.

 

[Willa]

It took her some time to calm and she found herself clinging to the fur cloak he'd draped over her. Willa let out a slow breath and rubbed at her face before gingerly getting herself to her feet. She limped closer to him and carefully draped it back over the sleeping barbarian.

The riverbank wasn't too far, and Willa hobbled her way there by aid of the trees as she stumbled here and there. She glanced around, ensuring there were no eyes to see her as she dropped her cloak and unbuttoned the horrid dress she'd been given to wear. It fell around her feet, revealing the extent of the damage to her body and she studied what injuries she could see with a grimace before stepping in to the frigid water of the river.

She pulled in a gasp and shivered as she forced herself to endure the cold and submerge herself despite her uncontrollable shaking. She'd scrub at her skin until it was raw and pink with cold and abrasion.

 

[Ivar]

Ivar woke up eventually, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and shifting his weight so that he was laying on his back.

The ground in the southlands was decidedly more comfortable than it was in the Tundra. Here it didn't seem so...off. Back home everything was frozen, tough. You could build a bed from snow well enough, but it wasn't any more comfortable.

He wished he still had a fur pad to lay on though.

A few more seconds passed, and then he realized what he should have been thinking about. His head whirled one way, then another. He did not see his companion. Did she decide to run away after all? Lips thinned for a moment.

Slowly Ivar climbed to his feet, drawing the cloak with him and pulling the shale rock into his cloak just in case.

Then slowly he looked around the campsite. Eventually he found soft tracks in the mud, following them until he heard the splashing of cold river water. "Hello?"

He called out loudly.

 

[Willa]

It wasn't pleasant. In fact she'd go as far as saying it was the worst bath she'd ever taken in her life. There wasn't a part of her that didn't ache or sting and the cold was quickly setting back into her bones that seemed to rattle as she shook like a leaf in the breeze.

She froze as she heard Ivar call out, her heart suddenly jolting with fright and she turned and tried to call back, forgetting that no sound would escape. She was only waist high, and she grimaced as she lowered herself back into the water until it covered her up to her eyes which stared up from it's freezing surface.