Slow were his footsteps, the heavy snows laid across the land almost knee deep. The entire land was covered in the white stuff, and every step was muffled. True winter had engulfed the land of Ooo once again, and the intrepid adventurer drug his feet through the cold and wet precipitation with reckless abandon. Even now it was snowing heavily, great winds pushing the snow far and wide. As he strode forward, snow was knocked left and right in great torrents. From afar one might mistake him for a wind storm, the snow being thrown up by his efforts and buffeted around him like a miniature tornado. In truth he was tired, and he had not the energy that the storm made him appear to possess. But onward he marched through it all regardless, intent on returning home after a long trek to retrieve tonight's dinner.
His prize slung across his shoulder, Finn was nearing home. Which to Finn meant that he could soon strip off his heavy and now soaked clothes. Being used to his freedom, all this cold-weather gear was restrictive and weighing heavily on his shoulders. Finn was not one to be bundled up or covered in protective measures, he was an adventurer born and raised. However, he had been warned of the consequences should he neglect to wear any coverings, both from the elements and from a protective friend. Having anticipated the freezing blowing wind, he had grudgingly agreed to be bundled up, a whywolf hide draped across his shoulders, well-worn boots on his feet, and a familiar cap pulled down over a mess of blonde hair. Hanging at his side like an ever-present companion, the family sword was ever sharp, a blood red facsimile of a crucifix. On his back he wore a familiar weight, his green pack, now worn with use. He stood tall under his accoutrements, his late teenage years giving him a sudden growth spurt and a decent amount of muscle on the side. Finn was fairly handsome, even with a missing tooth here and there. Not that one would have been able to tell in the blizzard, as he was indeed covered head to toe. The only part of him that could be seen was his deep blue eyes, almost grey in the half-light of evening. A little smile played across his face behind his hat as he thought of the warmth that awaited him in his home. Regardless of the cold, he knew there would always be a warm home to welcome him when his adventures were at an end.
Coming at last to the door, Finn flung it inwards. Snow piled into the entranceway, and he ploughed straight through it. Snow whipped inwards across the room, the wind curling around his back and invading the home. Finn was glad to be home yet again, home in the warm tree that had been his home for years now. Not terribly worried about the mess he was creating, Finn stomped his feet hard on the welcome mat. Snow matted to the bottom of his boots fell off in clumps, white matter mixed with dirt and various bits of detritus. Throwing his coat onto the coat stand and resting the family sword on its place on the wall, Finn sat down in the little chair next to the door and slowly pulled his boots off, letting them drop to the floor with a thump. Normally he would leave them in the anteroom just off the kitchen, but this winter he and Jake had decided shoes would be better suited at the door, so as to prevent too much of a mess. Surveying the room, he decided to leave the mess until later. It would be a pain to take care of either way, but he was not in the mood to deal with it at the moment. He only wanted to be home.
Finn grabbed dinner and made his way across the room, the floorboards creaking familiar hellos at him as his weight pressed and bent them. In a motion so natural he didn't even recognize it, he reached to a ladder and began to climb. Passing the mounds of treasure he and Jake had collected over the years, he didn't even bat an eyelash. It was difficult to find it impressive when he needed to look at it every time he came home. In fact, it had been years since he had really looked at the masses of it, always climbing the familiar ladder to the kitchen with nothing on his mind. Clambering up onto the landing, Finn could smell the familiar aroma of hot cocoa. The pleasant smell floated over him, and he sighed. As he stepped into the kitchen, he was greeted with a wonderful sight, and his face lit up to see her. She turned to look at him and smiled a pure little smile. To see her smile so unrestrained was a miracle, and Finn counted himself lucky to be one of the few to receive it.
"You're back!" Jake had heard Finn coming up the ladder and came to greet him. A great yellow mass came barreling at him, all jowls and laughs and roughhousing. Although Finn was indeed glad to see his friend and brother, he was more anxious to get more of that pleasant smile he had glimpsed just a moment ago. It disappeared, to be replaced by an amused smirk. That too was pleasant, and Finn was certainly more used to it. Her hair flowed this way and that, seemingly carried by the wind, or taken of its own will. Finn had never asked her about the nature of her wild hair, so he knew not how or why it moved, but it danced regardless, and he enjoyed staring at it. He often found himself entranced by the very motion, unable to tear his eyes away until she caught his attention. Embarrassed, he would feel blood rush to his face and he would look away sheepishly. She would follow it with a little chuckle, something sweet but with a hint of mocking. A laugh that said "I caught you staring, yeah you like what you see."
Of course he did. How could he do anything but be infatuated with her? Drawn to her by her uniqueness, the way she could utterly confuse him and yet be also utterly confused by him. Something was special in the way they could talk for hours and in the end settle any argument with a little sparring or a friendly tickle fight. Such a dichotomy would have seemed impossible to Finn before her, and yet now he couldn't picture his life without her. To think their meeting had all been an accident, a fabrication.
Like a torch she stood at the stove, a beacon in the dark. By now the sun had set, but Jake had been slow in lighting the candles. Such had been the norm every time she had been over past dark, her own body illuminating every room where she chose to stand. Living fire, and yet so much more. She was his flame, she lit up his world, she ignited his soul. Such a fire could not be put down, it could no more be doused than one could douse the sun. After a rocky start, their friendship had been quick and dangerous, punctuated by near-death experiences and frequent worries over losing the house to a raging inferno. Such trials and tribulations had been challenging, but after some time they began to happen less frequently. Eventually they were almost nonexistent. Even when the outbreaks were common, Finn found some enjoyment in constant flux and challenge. She wasn't a sweet little flower, she wasn't someone who would be pushed around. Strength was in her veins, if she had any, and Finn could appreciate this more than nearly anyone. When no one else would put up with her antics, Finn would sidle up next to the flame-haired beauty, and risk life and limb to help her through whatever had put her in a bad mood. It was a friendship born of respect and true understanding. And Finn wouldn't trade it for the world. The Flame Princess was worth the pain.
As Jake released his embrace, he stepped aside and moved to leave the room. He said something about fetching something, but the adventurer knew better. Although Finn insisted there was nothing between himself and the burning woman, Jake nonetheless gave them plenty of time to talk alone. Finn was glad for it, even if it he wouldn't acknowledge there was something there. Deep in his heart he knew, but he was so afraid. Fear of rejection reared its head so many times as he was with her, a reminder of the last princess he had tried to court. It was still difficult to keep those insecurities down, and some days Finn had to just sit and focus on a singular something while thinking of how things had changed. Sometimes he just needed a reminder that things had changed painfully, but in the end he was happier for it. Harder to let go of the past than it was to accept the future, Finn could do no less. It was not his place to question why life had thrown him through a loop, it was only his place to ride it out and see where it took him. And to many places it had taken him.
It had taken him here, to this moment, and for that he was grateful. She wore a pair of pants like jeans, and slippers of some kind. On top she wore a hoodie, a light affair that was more like a shirt than anything. Finn often wondered how she wore clothing, but was much too embarrassed to ask about the nature of her clothes. The burning girl gave him a little amused look in response to his vacant stare, and then tilted her head to one side. Something in his chest jumped at the sight, before he was reminded of his purpose. Her voice stretched across the distance between them matching the look of amusement on her face. "And what did you bring back today for me to cook up? I hope it's not more of Meat Man. That seriously creeps me out." Finn was instantly glad he had decided not to stop by the infamous man of meat's house, opting instead to get some premium steaks at the local butcher. He crossed the room, and set the food down onto the small amount of counter space available. He brought out steaks, followed by a tasteful selection of bread and assorted fruits. Surveying the cuts of meat, the fiery figure ascertained they were not from Meat Man and promptly ignited the stove.
Finn enjoyed watching her cook, equal parts art form and horrifying display of power and ferocity. It put him into a sort of trance whenever he watched her at work. She refused to cook simply so that her friends could eat, and she valued it as an opportunity to show off one of her many skills. Truly, she was a woman of many talents, from cooking to fighting to artistry. Finn was totally enthralled by her every motion. He stood at her elbow as she worked this time, and slowly reached into his bag. Pulling forth a small packet wrapped in muslin and tied with a small bit of twine, he presented it to her. Knowing the contents from only the packaging, the woman's hair jumped and burned brighter at the very sight of it. Finn spoke proudly to her, as she unwrapped the little gift.
"I know how much you like these, Azar, so I made a quick stop on my way back." Speaking to her for the first time since he had returned, he casually spoke his chosen nickname for her, hoping it would get the desired reaction. Finn had happened upon an ancient book years ago talking of the "essence of the fire" as a beautiful woman and it had been called "Azarchehr." He still wouldn't tell the princess how he had come across the name, or why he called her such, but she nonetheless was pleasantly surprised he had his own name to call her. Enjoying his attentions, she clutched at the contents of the small package. Picking a small black stone from the grouping, she popped it into her mouth with relish. It wasn't a normal rock, but was instead composed of anthracite, pure coal which had been polished and shaped into little spheres of varying sizes. Finn couldn't appreciate them himself, but his friend always seemed to coo and almost purr if you brought her these little nuggets. She twisted around quickly after sucking at the little morsel, her cheeks clearly a deeper shade of red. Finn always wondered if she was blushing, or if it was a side effect of consuming the flammable material. Always preferring to leave the little details to mystery, Finn didn't ask.
"Thank you Finn, really. Not that you can get these on the way back…" Letting the words dance off her tongue, the princess gave the adventurer a knowing look. She knew he made the extra walk to get her little treats, and she really did appreciate it. Finn could tell she knew, but he wasn't going to admit anything. With nothing but a smile, he stepped away from her and back into his comfort zone. Their friendship was one of strained feelings and strange boundaries, and Finn was ever the one who stepped back first. While his little princess was more than willing to push limits, he was careful of his own as well as hers. Often she would push her own limits, to only be withdrawn later in awkwardness and discomfort. The adventurer didn't like these little tugs at his heartguts, so he was willing to limit both of them so that she wouldn't ever retreat away from him. So far it had worked, and even now he had seen her willing to go further, but he drew himself away, feeling the familiar pang in his stomach. He wanted to let her in, but he wasn't willing to lose her. And thus he played a careful game of push and pull, trying to temper their friendship into something more.
But he let the thought go for now. The princess placed the little treats on the counter, taking the steaks and putting them into a skillet. Finn stepped away and sat at on the bench seat at his friend's urging. She truly enjoyed the art of making meals; it was something that she was passionate about. Finn was confused the first time she had confessed this, but he soon found himself taken aback at her skill. Like a deadly dance she crafted perfectly seared entrees, and with a flourish she could add just the perfect amount of heat. Finn long pondered why cooking called to her, why she was equally apt to start making food as she was to burst into an inferno when she was mad. In the end he found it had to do with control, as no matter what chaos was happening with her emotions or her life, she could at least exert a measure of control over her cooking. It was a focus for her raging emotions, and Finn found the daughter of flame worthy of admiration. She had found a way to contain her usually destructive habits, albeit with some help from the adventurer, and he was glad she was willing to give it a try.
Jake was now returning, holding a little box Finn knew well. It was his box full of hot cocoa, reserved for the coldest days of winter. Finn smiled at his friend as he entered, glad that he was no longer alone with the girl. It seemed that Jake always knew how to break up awkward conversations, so Finn found it crucial to have his friend around in case of shameful silent pauses. As Jake began to get his supplies ready to make hot cocoa, his eyes rested on the packet of stones on the counter. Finn saw him make a little smile at this and turn to face the boy. Their eyes met, and Jake made an all-too-familiar face. Finn shrugged innocently, but Jake didn't stop with his sly look. Finn just smiled. Jake was right in his suspicions, of course, but Finn was too proud and too scared to admit it. Thus it had been for a long time, and it showed no signs of stopping.
And that's how Finn liked it. Life was good. Finn had found someone that reveled in being close to him, as much if not more so than he did in them. His best friend was also his adoptive brother. He had a nice warm home. Good friends were around every corner. As he pondered these things, Jake began to make his cocoa. The soft clink of a spoon mixing the powder in the boiling water could be heard above the din of the princess's cooking. Jake came over to sit next to his brother, blowing on his drink as he walked. Finn tilted his eyes up to look at the beauty once again, and she finished her process as he did. Taking the now steaming plates over to the boy and his dog, the burning woman plopped herself down next to Finn. As they began to eat she plucked another stone from the pouch and popped it in her mouth with satisfaction. With a smile, she let her eyes meander over to Finn. He blushed slightly under her gaze, obviously affected by her even after being so familiar with her in the past. She spoke another thanks to him for the treats.
"Thanks for these, Finn. I've really been craving them recently." Finishing off a big bite, Finn smiled sheepishly and avoided her eyes. "Of course, Azar, anytime!" it was the truth of course, as the boy adventurer was willing to go to the ends of the earth for her if he had to. There was something between them alright, and Finn loved every moment of it.