In the Cold, I'm Warmest With You

Polydegmon

Kayre looked at the person who pacified the fearsome guardian of the Underworld for a while, seeing that he was tall, pale, cold, and dark. The only trace of color on him was his ruby-red orbs glowing in the dark.

    "Ah," The Maiden snapped back to reality, realizing she hadn't answered him immediately. "Yes, I'm okay."

    She turned to face him and winced in pain, feeling stings in her feet. She looked down and saw that her feet were bleeding ichor due to running on rough, earthy terrain, rougher than the smooth and soft fields she was used to. She always went barefoot when working in her fields and only wore sandals when she had to go elsewhere. Seeing her feet made Kayre promise herself to put on footwear outdoors.

    Aidamien followed her line of sight, the concern hinted at in his eyes. "I'll bring you back to my house," His monotonous voice filled the silence beside the odd wind blowing. "You can't go out like this."

    He looked to Kayre. "Can you walk?"

    "I think so..." She tried to take a step, yet she couldn't ignore the stinging pain. "Running on adrenaline is different than walking consciously." She mildly jested.

    The man's eyes changed subtly as if her words lightened his mood. "You're not wrong..." He motioned his arms behind Kayre. "I should carry you. May I?"

    The Maiden scanned his arms, noting how rather well-built they were. "If you insist, sir." She replied in her usual lukewarmth. The man took her answer as a yes and lifted her in his arms in a bridal carry. She immediately wrapped her arms around his neck for stability. Aidamien's eyes widened at the action, yet he didn't question it, assuming she was doing it for her safety. He dashed to his estate with her in his arms, swift as the wind, where a silver-haired, six-armed man seemed to have been waiting for him.

    "My, my, Aidamien! I was wondering where you've gone!" His worry turned into amusement and relief, seeing the King of the Dead carrying the Maiden in his arms.

    Kayre looked at the man who carried her the way here. 'Where have I heard this name before?' She wondered.

    "I need a bowl, a washcloth, and bandages," Aidamien ordered. "No need to call for others."

    The six-armed man's eyes widened as if surprised for a second and then relaxed as he bowed. "As you wish," He briskly went inside.

    Aidamien brought the young woman into his bathroom, and he set her down on a dry stool. What he asked for was swiftly brought to him, and they were left alone. He set aside his sandals, cloak, and bracers elsewhere, revealing his crown of white poplar leaves, Kayre noted. There was nothing except the sound of running water filling the bowl and the splashes as the dark deity wetted the washcloth. He gently lifted one foot of the Maiden, staining his hand with ichor, and washed her sole carefully. The ambiance was remarkably peaceful, but Kayre had mysteries she wanted to solve foremost.

    "Sir, are you the lord of this realm?" Her curious voice suddenly broke the silence. Aidamien stopped whatever he was doing to look up at her in the eyes, and she could sense surprise from them before he returned to cleaning.

    "Yes," he answered after much contemplation, subtly moved. "How did you know?"

    Kayre hummed for a moment. "I may have heard a little once while on the mountain. Your true name, I mean. I heard some rumors from farmers away from my home."

    A smile broke out on her lips. "Though coming from them, it'd be scarce... Everyone on the mountain seemed to be fonder of you..."

    'As it usually is...' Aidamien thought and sighed as he moved on to her other foot.

    Sensing his gloomy reaction, the Maiden looked on, seeing how he handled her feet delicately. "No wonder mortals call you 'the Hospitable One'..." She murmured and sensed the washing halted, believing he had heard her. The surprise was now apparent on his face, with his pale skin looking slightly more colorful.

    Since the day she appeared in the world, Kayre had been aware that mortals didn't mention the King of the Underworld as often as other deities, let alone use his name. They would instead replace it with epithets out of fear. All who lived shall eventually become his subjects hereafter, and it wouldn't do them any favor to have their ends arrive prematurely. Yet despite everything she heard about him, she didn't think they matched the image she was witnessing before her eyes.

    'Did I say something off?' Kayre grew uneasy over the prolonged inaction.

    On Aidamien's end, her tone earlier signaled genuine sincerity, as if she was complimenting him. But he decided to avoid such expectation of sentiment in nearly invisible shame, continuing to tend to her feet.

    This time, Kayre wasn't sure what to do. She was usually the one to receive the start of conversations, but now she had to start one with someone she presumed to be a lot like herself.

    "I mean it," she said slowly after thinking things over as he wrapped her cleaned feet in bandages. "I don't know what exactly you heard from others, but..." She took a deep breath. "You're honestly not too bad yourself, my lord. Please know that."

    'Would he be okay with me saying such serious things this early?' The Maiden started to have second thoughts before seeing Aidamien's gaze turn warmer as he finished bandaging.

    "Your feet sustained mild scratches, so it should take at least a few hours for them to heal enough for you to walk painlessly," he finally spoke. "I'll get you sandals." He stood up to put on his cloak and bracers again before exiting the bathroom.

    "Um...!"

    "Hm?" He turned back to see Kayre trying to stand up on her own.

    "May I join you?" She limped slowly. "I believe I should since you're looking for my size. Would be saving time instead of you going back and forth for my sake..."

    "Sure," Aidamien replied, seeing her determination.