A Wolf of Ice and Iron [OLD]

Chapter 17

Morel

I have a moment of panic, thinking I've made a dreadful mistake. Winter gives a very un-royal shriek as he topples into the warm water, and he flips his head out of the water, white bedraggled hair slapping against his skin.

He stares at me with wild amber eyes. Those eyes... I don't think anyone has ever met him and not been struck by their pigment, their meaning, their emotion. Winter is so painfully stiff on the exterior, not wanting to show weakness - but he cannot keep it out of his eyes.

I see so much of that there. So much of what he doesn't want me to see. So much of what he's tried to hide away, because he's afraid of it.

Winter stares at me with the most wild and unpredictable expression I've ever seen. But I haven't made a mistake. Memories flash through my mind at the fun we used to have, the games we used to play. How I used to pull him into this pool whenever we were here, so much so that he began to expect it, and still he came to the edge to talk to me.

When did that stop?

I can't remember a day, a month, a year, a moment. I don't. But I do remember the day I tried to talk to him, and he didn't want to talk back. The day my teasing fell short, the day my smiles didn't make him smile. The day he stopped laughing.

"Winter-" I begin, but I find I don't have anything to say. Sorry? I'm not sorry. There is so much I want to say, but each vowel, syllable and word dies as soon as I think it up. I've rehearsed this speech so often, but now that I'm here, I can't say it.

"Don't." Winter's voice is harsh, but what hurts me so much more is that he sounds broken. He sounds like he's about to cry. That one word wobbles on its tightrope and wobbles and wobbles some more, and then it shatters and falls and his eyes blink furiously. They're watery.

Winter scoots back and climbs out of the pool. He's completely wet and bedraggled. He's shaking. My Winter is shaking. But not from cold. He wraps his arms around himself and stalks out of the room, wiping his slicked back hair quickly. It's gone from white to grey.

Adras is still in the corner, and I feel guilty about that. It wasn't a good time to pull the human into this. But he's nice, and he's kind, and I felt comfortable around him. Probably too comfortable, if that's what I did.

I climb out of the pool, my wet trousers clinging to my legs. It's uncomfortable, but it's not my main focus. "Adras, I'm sorry-"

"What was that?" His voice is its usual calm and clipped, sweet and kind but curious. He doesn't hide anything in his words, which I suppose is what I like about him. They're honest.

"What do you mean?" I tilt my head, but I already know what he means. I don't know why I try and avoid it. I go and pick up a towel from the racks, and Adras's dark eyes follow me curiously.

"You know what I mean," he says, legs swinging where he sits. He's almost like a child in his mannerisms and curiosity, and I suppose... I suppose he is a child, still. He's sixteen. But he's soon more hardships than most. So I suppose his childhood ended then.

"Yeah, I guess I do." I wipe my face and sigh. "It's... complicated."

"You could say as much," Adras comments, standing up and stretching. His hair is damp, most of him is damp, and I feel a little guilty for dragging him here. But he doesn't look upset. "But... you and Winter are so tense around each other. Why?"

"Why?" I snort a bitter laugh. So much runs through my head. That isn't exactly a one sentence answer. "It's... it's been a long time since we were friends."

"You can tell me." Adras crosses his legs on the damp couch, tilting his head. He's inviting, he's warm, he's happy. But he's also wise. Wiser than some faeries in any court, wiser than any human I could have ever thought of. Part of me thinks he isn't even human.

"I... I don't think that's a good idea. Winter is your faerie, after all. You're his faeling." I feel a jolt just at the words. Winter isn't anyone's. He always said that. "And... well, I don't think he'd like you talking to him about it."

"I don't have to talk to him about it," Adras says with a brief smile. "You're my friend. I'm not the type to spill secrets."

Friend. The word rings in my head. I didn't think this shy boy would ever want to be my friend, especially when he's been chosen by such a... regal faerie (Of all the words to describe Winter, that is one of the more flattering). But I smile at Adras and sit beside him, towel scrunched in my lap.

"Oh. And I meant to ask you a question." Adras turns to me, taking me by surprise, since our deep conversation seems to have dissolved into warm mist. "Why did I name him Winter?"

The intuitive human. His brown eyes are knowing and dark, and I smile a little at this. I can't help myself. "Winter put it in your head. He's had the name for some time."

"Thought so." Adras smiles a little bit. Then he turns to me. "Now talk."

I startle at the change. "I... I don't know. It feels odd, talking about it to anyone. It's strange." I laugh, a strained laugh that makes my throat make a whining sound. "I don't think it's a good idea."

"Sometimes things aren't a good idea, but you do them anyway. Like pulling a faerie into a pool." Adras looks at me with playful brown eyes, and I'm struck by how much he's changed. He's been here for... what, three days? And he seems happier. More curious. More open.

I laugh at that, shaking my head. "Well, I suppose you have a point." I smile and look over at the door that Winter left wide open, letting in chillingly cold air.

"So, are you going to tell me, or what?" Adras tilts his head, his expression neutral.

I sigh, rubbing my face with damp hands. Running fingers through my hair, which is slick and sticks to my scalp. "I suppose I should, shouldn't I?" My mind screams No! At me, but it's about time, isn't it?