A Wolf of Ice and Iron [OLD]

Chapter 18

"Hey, Winter! Look!" Morel nearly leapt out of the window as he pointed at the moon. "The Night Cat is out!"

Winter raises his head from his corner of the room. He's reading a book, a small old thing that had yellowed pages and smells faintly of dead rat. "Oh, lovely." He smiles, a radiant smile that lights up the room.

Morel looks back at him with a graceful little smile, gentle and kind. But substantially smaller, just gazing at the other faerie for a few long seconds. Then, he speaks: "Come sit with me. It's really nice."

Winter closes his book and places it on the couch he was sitting on. A plush dark blue, with golden buttons and trimming. He walks over to the windowsill, leaning against it where Morel is sitting. "You don't need to be so loud, Morel."

Morel laughs, a sweet tinkling sound, a carefree youngster without a worry. "Why? And I'm not loud." He pouts, leaning his arm on Winter's head, playing with the white silky hair.

Winter rolls his amber eyes, which sparkle in the midnight glow. "You are. And you know how my father would react if he found you in my room." But he doesn't look worried. In fact, he is smiling, a sweet little smile that is private and gentle.

Morel hums and leans back against the wall, staring out the window. "Why don't we go exploring?"

"Because it's midnight," Winter responds with a short laugh. "That's not a good idea, Morel."

Morel makes a face, poking the other faerie in the pointed ears. Winter makes a huff of surprise and jerks his head away from the strange touch. "Come onnnnn! We should explore!"

"You've seen the forest plenty of times." Winter smiles back at Morel. "It won't be any different than it was yesterday night."

"But it's different when I explore it with you." Morel says, stretching out on the windowsill, still playing with Winter's hair, which is soft and silky in his fingers. "I like it better."

Winter is silent for a bit, then sighs. "We can't go tonight. My father wants to send me to that... school, and if he catches me, I'll be gone by tomorrow." He makes a face, an oddly young, playful face from a faerie so old already. "And I'm not even young enough to go to school."

"Yeah. But you're smart enough to not go." Morel smiles, tilting his head. "Come on. Let's go. It'll be nice. And then you can get away."

"Get away?" Winter echoes, arching a pale eyebrow.

"Yeah. Remember, we wanted to run away? We can go now. You've packed your bag, and I don't own anything anyway." Morel says, sitting up. "Come on, Winter. Let's go. Let's run away."

Winter fiddles with his fingers. "I can't go, Morel. I'm... I'm my father's only heir. And you know he's sick." He looks up at his friend with hopeless amber eyes. "I want to go. I do. I want to go with you."

Morel blinks quickly as he notices the faerie's eyes filling with water. "Hey, shh, it's ok. I'm not going anywhere. Not without you."

Winter blinks at the other faerie in surprise. "You won't? But-"

"Hey, I made the plan with you. With you, or not at all." Morel smiles softly, nuzzling his friend's hair with his nose. It smells like sandalwood and cherry blossom, a smell he's grown to love so much. It's in his dreams, it's in his future.

Winter smiles in relief and stares out the window at the Great Night Cat. He blinks his greeting, and then begins to laugh as Morel pulls on his hair. "Hey! Don't touch the hair, you rat." He slaps his hands away, but his movements are gentle.

Winter moves his hand to Morel's, lacing their fingers together. He leans against him. "Do you think the Great Night Cat will ever yowl this century?"

"Maybe." Morel runs his other hand through Winter's hair again, prompting a snort from the other faerie. "It only yowls when something history-changing happens."

"Exactly. I want to know when history will be changed." Winter says, his voice a little harder. "I think it's boring, living like this. Just... nothing happening."

"Well, there's always the possibility to steal enough food from the kitchen that everyone starves. That would be history changing." Morel teases, humming as he plays with the ivory hair.

Winter tilts his head. "That's not a good way to alter history, Morel." He smiles radiantly at him.

Morel is struck by just... the beauty, of this creature before him. He always has been, always thinks how plain he is in comparison.

"Stop it," Winter says, shoving his hand at Morel's face, disentangling their fingers. "Stop comparing yourself."

Morel blinks. "I didn't say anything." He rubbed his face.

"I know. But you thought it." Winter says, tilting his head and smiling again. "I think you're beautiful."

Morel blinks quickly. "You do?" His face is warm, prickling across his nose.

Winter laughs again, such a beautiful sound. A radiant sound of bells chiming, a song of the night, a song of freedom. A predator giving themselves up to another, letting themselves be shown as weaker. An act of trust. "Yeah. I think you're really, really beautiful."