Author's Note: Oh happy day! It's up! The crossover of the century! Have fun, and enjoy watching your favorite characters get thrown about violently by a hopeless romantic author!
Disclaimer: Also, I don't own anything in here except my own characters, such as Skia, who comes from my own book, Faerie Dust, and Sam, who is the reincarnation of me in this adventure.
Skia heard the roof groan. She pushed herself upright, brushing the heavy blankets off her. The air was cold, biting at her skin and making her teeth chatter. Sam never turned the heater on at night. She claimed it was a waste of energy, that piling on blankets would keep anybody warm without a heater. Glad you can stay warm, she thought. You don't have to deal with the Mistborn and their dumb "secret entrance."
A figure landed on the roof outside the window of her attic bedroom. It tapped on the window softly. Skia got out of bed and waddled over to the window, rubbing her arms furiously. She unlatched the window and pulled it open slightly. The figure jumped through, shoving the window wide. A gust of frozen air spilled inside, dragging thick, heavy snowflakes with it. Mist poured over the sill and onto the floor. She pushed the window shut quickly and pulled her hands inside of the thick, fuzzy sleeves of her purple sweater.
"Do you always have to c-come back in the middle of the night?" Skia mumbled, "It's f-f-freezing out there!"
"Yeah, I guess it's a bit nippy," a calm, cheerful voice yawned. Hands crisscrossed with, thin, pale scars pulled back the silvery gray hood of his mistcloak. He smiled deviously and ran his fingers through his golden blonde hair. "Guess that's what we get from putting our headquarters in Canada, right?"
"Honestly, Kelsier, if this were anybody else's room you'd be dead by now."
"Hey, I'm not the only one who comes through here," he put his hands up defensively.
"Vin at least has the decency to bring some compensation," she shivered, "Last time she brought chocolate."
"Are you really that cold?" he said, concerned. Mistborn had the strange ability to shut out all sorts of little annoyances. Cold, hunger, fatigue, even pain on occasion. A lot of the time they didn't even notice. Once, Vin had stepped on on a piece of glass and didn't realize it until Sam noticed the bloody footprints across the courtyard.
Skia sneezed a squeaky, small "chew!"
"Well here then," he chuckled, pulling off his cloak and wrapping it around her shoulders, "Compensation enough?"
She smiled and sneezed again.
He pulled open her bedroom door, leaning back in, saying, "I'll need that back in the morning, 'kay? Sleep well!" He pulled the door shut.
Skia smiled thoughtfully. Kell was a nice guy, even if he did always wake her up in the middle of the night. She pulled the cloak tighter, ribbons floating about. It was still quite warm, despite being worn out in the freezing cold night air. The cloak was made like the skirts she usually wore. It was made completely from ribbons of fabric, sewn tightly together from the top to about a third of the way down, and was the signifying garb of those called the Mistborn. Of course, they weren't from Skia's reality. They had their own world, full of their own troubles and their own secrets.
Skia sighed. She was very grateful for the cloak. Kell could be a real gentleman when he wanted to. She climbed back under her thick blankets into the plush bed. The cold had killed the pocket of warmth she had made before. She curled the cloak around her and forced her eyes shut. It was going to be a long, cold night.
