It started with a skirmish on Gallhorn's Heights.

'Twas a trade caravan going hither to Sandarr's fief, near the ice sands. The family is Iswulf was there, for they had kin in that high and barren land. A cousin was about to give birth and they would go to celebrate the joyous event and join her prayers for a boy.

Alas, their own joy was cut short when the people of the plains attacked. Their child was a boy and but a weanling. The people of the corn no doubt did not mean to kill a mere babe, but arrows go where they will and he breathed his last that day. The caravan fought them off and ripe with anger, brought their tale of death and danger to Sandarr's fief.

A counter raid was launched, 'gainst the holdings of the warriors who had thought to steal the treasure of the caravan. They had underestimated the rage of the Glisterheim and Sandarr lead the day to glory, smashing the town and looting it to assuage the blood debt. Yet Iswulf's honor was not appeased. The cousin's child had died in birth and they had no male heirs of their name. Perhaps the god would bless them with another boy to carry their name to the heavens, but would they have only girls? Girls, though wondrous, cannot hold the honor of a family.

So when a little child, barely more than a weanling, tried to attack Iswulf's head with a dagger, an idea came to him. This would be his blood price. A child of his enemies to take the place of the boy they had killed. A little warrior, he would grow up strong and straight and carry the family honor.

So it was decided. Sandarr granted him the right of honor and the child was sworn to him. When Dagstyrr Iswulf brought the child home, harsh words were exchanged for his loyal wife, Arnfasta, hoped for another boy of her own. But the weanling endured like a warrior and held back his tears, despite his great distress. So Arnfasta took the lad under her wing and raised him as her own.

Iswulf's wisdom was proven when no children were born to them, girls or boys. In time Arnfasta would be declared barren but Dagstyrr would not leave her. And so this child bore their name and honor in the Glisterheim.

His name was Roxas.


Sometimes, Roxas wondered who had told him the story. It couldn't have been his father. Dagstyrr didn't like to be reminded that Roxas was not his own blood. His mother, Arnfasta, might have told it to him. It couldn't have been Axel. His cousin wasn't capable of telling a story like that without embroidering and it had the ring of truth to it. Whenever Roxas thought of it he decided it must have been Arnfasta. She believed in truth at all times and Roxas had not been her first choice as a son…

He wasn't the only bearer of the Iswulf name now, thankfully. There were three male cousins, all of whom were past the dangerous age. That was good because now his parents wouldn't have to spend an obscene amount finding him a bride. Roxas didn't really want to get married, which was good because he wasn't likely to. The women of the Glisterheim were impressed by his skill with weapons but very much put off by his lack of height.

They lived deep in the Cleft of Hrafin. A small mountain valley, it was inaccessible during the winter and hard to reach even in the summer. Raids rarely reached them but despite that, the town was cut deep into the mountainside and designed for war. Roxas glanced at the cold stone walls, reflecting on them for a moment. The weight of the stone was a bit oppressing but overall it had a very solid feel.

His family home was comfortable if not luxurious. The table was made of stone and the matching chairs were softened with furs and animal skins. The only adornments on the walls were a crossed pair of axes, pitted and scarred from the battles they had seen. When he'd been a child, Roxas had sometimes tried to reach those axes, to touch the hilts in wonder. The stories behind them were great and terrible. He could just barely reach them now but as a child, they had been too high.

Everything was built too large for him here. The chairs, the beds, even the utensils. Although that could be fun. Roxas still enjoyed hefting the oversized mugs and drinking more than his share of small beer. He smiled as he stood on his tiptoes, fishing out those same mugs from the cupboard and putting them on the table. His mother would be pleased to see he –

RAP. The loud sound of someone knocking on their door surprised him and Roxas frowned, going to open it. All the family quarters were buried deep in the stone but the door was good wood, set in a wooden frame.

"Axel!" Roxas smiled in pleasure as he beheld the fur clad giant in front of him. Axel was actually a bit slight for one of the Glisterheim, but he had the full measure of height and towered over his smaller friend.

"Roxas!" Axel's arms were around him and Roxas got a good whiff of his lunch as his face ended up pressed against the redhead's chest. Sausage and cabbage soup… it actually smelled pretty appetizing. It had been a long time since lunch.

"Let go of me you snail!" Roxas squirmed until Axel let go and smiled as looked up into the redhead's face. Axel was smiling, his eyes bright with energy and mischief. Roxas shoved his chest with a mixture of fondness and exasperation. "Are you trying to smother me again?"

"Ah, you're a tough little nut, you can take it!" Axel ruffled his hair playfully and Roxas shoved him again before letting him inside the home. The redhead glanced around. "Are your mother and father –"

"I am here." Arnfasta's voice cut him short as she stepped out of the kitchen, carrying a cast iron pot full of stew. His mother was a touch shorter than Axel but still well above Roxas' height. Her hair was a dark auburn and tied back in the braid of a married woman, strung with yellow cords and her eyes were a soft grey. "Have you come to beg a meal again?" She smiled to show it was only a jest, although in the past it might not have been. Axel's family had fallen on hard times several seasons ago and as a cousin, he'd claimed hearth right several times. Roxas' family hadn't particularly minded. Axel might not bear the Iswulf name but he was a very good boy and a loyal friend to their son. Axel smiled and shook his head.

"No, nana, although I thank you for your hospitality. I was just wondering if Roxas could come with me ice fishing." A small frown crossed Arnfasta's face and Axel continued hurriedly. "I checked with the shaman and he said the ice is thick and firm."

"I was worried more about ice wolves." Arnfasta said and Axel frowned as Roxas felt a touch offended. That was what they had axes for. "But that's what you have axes for." She said and Roxas blinked at the mimicking of his thoughts. "We'll have to ask Dagstyrr, but I don't see why not. Some fresh fish would be welcome." She gave Roxas a benign smile as she set out the food.

"Thanks nana." Roxas said. Then he reflected ruefully that Axel hadn't actually asked if he wanted to go, but then, he didn't really need to. Roxas loved getting out of the town and into the wilderness, even in the depths of winter. Ice fishing was a perfect excuse for a day outside. Axel grinned briefly.

"I'll be back in the morning then. Tomorrow Roxy." Axel ruffled his hair one last time and Roxas battled his hand away with mostly feigned irritation. Axel was just too cheerful to really stay mad at. Then he settled in at the table to wait for his father.

He didn't have long to wait. Dagstyrr knew that if he wasn't there within half a candlemark of the supper time, Arnfasta and Roxas would eat and leave him with cold stew and no company. His mother had certain rules, and suppertime was one of them. Roxas looked up as his father opened the door, walking in.

His father was a tall man even for a Glisterheim. As a child, Roxas had thought of him as a giant. At first he'd been frightened of him but even as a child he'd sensed that he needed to stand up for himself. So he had, and had gradually come to know Dagstyrr as a gentle giant. His father always had time to speak to him, give him a bit of candy and show him the best way to spit an enemies head with an axe. When he'd first been taken to the Cleft, Dagstyrr's hair had been a bright coppery color and almost as spiky as Axel's. By now it had dulled and was liberally sprinkled with grey hairs but his green eyes were still bright and his body was strong. At this moment, though, he looked tired.

"A hard day, love?" His mother asked as his father took a chair and slumped into it. She began spooning out the food as Dagstyrr cut the bread and began to butter it. They didn't stint on Roxas' rations, something he was thankful for. Parents always decided how much their children had to eat and his were generous even in the worst of times, far more likely to short themselves than their son. Axel's parents weren't nearly as open handed. Dagstyrr sighed as he began digging into the stew.

"Had to discipline some of the slaves in Shaft Three. Also had to give the foreman a bit of discipline for working a man that was injured." He said. Roxas listened politely although he knew he would never handle the mines like his father. His family owned the rights to Shaft Three and Four. It made them a very decent living and Dagstyrr could have left the whole thing up to the foreman, but he preferred to oversee things personally. Most of the miner slaves were plainspeople, though, and they would not respect Roxas like they did his father. They would probably think he was some kind of traitor. It just wasn't worth the effort to correct them. "And the tunneling for the new shaft is going slowly…" Roxas began to eat his stew as his father talked. It was salted pork with dried vegetables. Not his favorite but more edible and the dark bread helped with the saltiness. "How's your day been, lad?" Dagstyrr asked and Roxas looked up from his meal with a smile.

"Good father. I hit the bullseye twice today." Roxas said and his father smiled, pleased. Roxas was a bloodied warrior already, although he was barely fifteen. His first real battle had been a year ago and he was certain at least two men with his bow. There might have been more but he wasn't certain. "And Gegnir says I'm a master of the sword." That was high praise from the weapons instructor, but Roxas was very talented. Axel was almost as talented and they often sparred together, although his best friend insisted on using a pair of outlandish weapons his family had taken as a trophy. No one was quite sure where they had come from but Axel had made up a fighting style to use them. It seemed to work.

"Good. We're at peace at the moment, but I doubt it will last." His father said reflectively. "The Court of Unr is a cesspit. Has been since the old King got ill, and it won't get better in a hurry. The corn people will think us weak, and they might be right." His mother grimaced, looking down at her food and Roxas knew why. The taxes the Court of Unr levied against them went up in times of war, and her menfolk might be called away to reinforce the King's guard. Even if they weren't, the taxes would be hard to bear. Axel had claimed hearth right during just such a time. "Speaking of the corn people, there is talk that they might send a caravan in come spring." His father said, changing the subject slightly. His mother looked up sharply.

"Really? That's good news." She said and Roxas frowned uneasily. He wasn't sure he wanted to meet his free kin. He didn't know anything about them although he could speak their tongue. But then, all the Glisterheim could. There were too many slaves not to. "We could use more textiles. The shipments from Sandarr haven't been what they should."

"Yes. We have quite a stockpile of copper. Hopefully the corn people trade well." Dagstyrr said. It was a little strange how the Glisterheim talked so readily about trading with their ancestral enemies, but Roxas knew why it was so. For all the clashes between them and the taking of slaves on both sides, the corn people were respected as dangerous warriors. The Glisterheim despised nothing more than weaklings. "Better yet, we've got a good stock of turquoise. It was found in Shaft Three." His father was pleased with that and justly so. If the corn people did come, Roxas thought he would be getting a new set of clothes come summer.

After supper they went to bed. Roxas sighed as he changed into his nightshift then curled up on his straw pallet. The great bearskin his father had given him as a child was still warm and comfortable, although it didn't cover him nearly as well anymore. But they'd long since added several sheep pelts and he was quite comfortable and warm. Closing his eyes, Roxas slipped into dreams of ice and snow and glistening fish and the laughter of his reckless cousin.

Ice fishing was one of his favorite things.


"I love skiing." Axel said in delight as they traveled easily over the forest floor. Roxas just saved his breath. The redhead's stride was twice his, and even though Axel was the one carrying most of the equipment he was still struggling to keep up. "Wheee!" Axel took a long, flying stride and Roxas halted as he watched the redhead go five times as far as he could at the best of times.

"Can you bloody well slow down?" Axel stopped and looked back guiltily as Roxas adjusted the strap across his chest. The empty fish box was easy to carry but he was feeling very hot under his furs. "You're long legged even for a Glisterheim!" That was nothing but the truth. Axel's great height was mostly in his legs, unlike the stockier men that made up the majority of the Glisterheim.

"Sorry. I was just having fun." Axel waited until Roxas had caught up then continued at a much slower pace. "Isn't it pretty out?" He waved at the great evergreen trees and Roxas nodded.

"It's lovely." And it really was. The pale sun was bright overhead and the sky was a beautiful blue, interrupted only by the soft white streaks of the high clouds. It was wickedly cold, of course, but there was no wind at all and not even the slightest sign of snow. A perfect day for an outing. Roxas smiled as he listened to the chickadee's calling. The little birds survived quite well even in the depths of winter thanks to the bugs and the pine nuts.

The beautiful day only got better when they finally reached Crescent Lake. It was shaped like its name, vaguely resembling a crescent moon. The ice fishing shack was sitting on the banks and the first thing Axel and Roxas had to do was lug one out into a good spot. But they were light, only meant to break the wind and provide a bit of shelter so it was easy enough. Roxas noticed several other shacks already on the ice and wondered if they were in use. He wasn't going to check to see, though. They all bore the markings of other families. This one bore the crest of Iswulf, a snarling wolf's head.

"Okay, let's get started." Axel began to auger out the hole as Roxas helped him with a pickaxe. The redhead did the hard work but that was fine. They both knew that Axel was the stronger of the two. "Hey, get the leather on your wrist!" Roxas looked down, started, and realized Axel was right. He'd forgotten to loop the strap around his wrist and if they broke the ice unexpectedly his pick might take a one way trip to the bottom of the lake.

"Sorry." Roxas hurriedly corrected the problem. The pick was copper and had been made by the town's smiths but his parents would still dislike replacing it. It took a bit of time and hard labor but they finally had the hole open. Roxas took a seat on his stool, curling his feet under the bottom rungs as he baited his hook. Like everything, the stool was too tall for him, but that was fine. It was as comfortable as any stool could be.

"I can't believe Sigfrida didn't take your suit seriously." Axel said and Roxas sighed to himself. Trust his friend to bring that up. "She practically sneered at you. It was an insult."

"Axel, don't look at it that way." When Axel said things like that it made Roxas very nervous. The redhead had a direct way of responding to insults. "I was only going to make my suit because mother and father insisted." Sigfrida was the only child of her parents. Fortunately, her family was large so there were plenty of cousins and even more distant relatives to carry on the family honor. Whatever man won her hand would have her parents entire fortune as a dowry so the competition was fierce. "I'm glad she didn't take me seriously enough to set me a task. She has Einarr off picking carrion flowers." Axel made a face at that. Neither of them liked Einarr too much… he was rude and a bit of a bully… but they both pitied him the trip to the crypts in the North end of the valley that would entail. "Why didn't you press your suit?" Roxas asked in return and Axel snorted.

"A penniless younger son? That will be the day. You might be short but you're at least the heir to something." Axel's tone was dour and Roxas winced, reaching out to touch his arm. Axel's chances of eventually finding a mate were better than his… there were plenty of penniless girls who admired a good warrior who could put food on the table… but his chances at Sigfrida were about as good as Roxas'.

"Sorry." Was all he said and Axel looked up from the hole, managing a smile.

"It's nothing. You've got a point about the carrion flowers though. I hope Einarr comes back alive. I don't like him but I don't hate him either." Axel said and Roxas nodded. The crypts could have all kinds of nasty things, ranging from skeletons to wraiths. Once there had even been a banshee but they had cleared that out years ago. "Do you know what she asked the others to do?" If Sigfrida had set a task for one suitor she would definitely have given the others challenges to prove their determination and skill. Roxas nodded.

"Yes, she's got Vali out trying to slay a snow bear…." Roxas related all the tasks he'd heard of before Axel snorted out a laugh.

"I can see why you don't mind that she didn't take you seriously. Oh well, at least it will keep them all busy." It was pretty rare for a girl to inherit and Sigfrida was adhering to the letter of the law for selecting a mate… but most girls settled for just tallying the kills, accomplishments and properties of their suitors to pick one. "What a primma donna!" Axel had to say the words in the language of the corn people. The Northern tongue didn't really have words for the concept although they knew it well. Roxas laughed.

"She is that! To be honest, I don't even like her that much." Roxas was sure Sigfrida knew it too. That was no doubt part of why she'd dismissed him so quickly. Axel thought about it a moment.

"She has good tits. Shame about the face." Was his opinion and Roxas choked at the bluntness before slapping him on the shoulder. "What? She has buck teeth. You know she does."

"Your teeth are no great shakes either." Roxas said, exasperated. Axel looked hurt before suddenly blinking.

"Roxas, your line!" Roxas looked at the bobbing pole and cursed, grabbing for it. He began carefully reeling it in and smiled as he saw the great black fish at the end of it. A quick blow from the ice pick dispatched it and Roxas took out a small tool, using it to open the catfish's jaws and remove his hook. "Those are good eating." Axel said approvingly and Roxas nodded as he set the fish into the carrying box, packing it with snow to keep it fresh.

"Catfish stew would be wonderful." Roxas thought of it longingly. There was plenty of dried beets and his mother liked to put them into fish stews. It was one of his favorite foods. Axel nodded, looking at his line.

"I'm hoping for perch." He said optimistically and Roxas smiled to himself. That was the most common fish in the lake so he was likely to get it. "That's my favorite. Well, we'll just have to see." Axel thoughtfully jingled his line, hoping to lure the fish in. Roxas smiled as he watched his friend looking at the hole hopefully. Nothing was going to happen so soon after he'd caught a fish but Axel wasn't the best at figuring out things like that.

He was still the best friend in the world and Roxas wouldn't have traded the redhead for anything. He carefully suppressed his other thought… that there was more than one reason why he was glad Sigfrida had dismissed his suit and one of the reasons was sitting right beside him. He wasn't sure how Axel would react to that revelation and really didn't want to know. Men could lie with men, but it wasn't an honorable thing among the Glisterheim. For a moment Roxas wondered what the people of the plains thought of it, but there was no way to know. It didn't matter anyway. The idea would never occur to Axel at all.

And that was a shame.