Hi everyone! I'm back! Camp went really well, and now I'm back home and ready to write another Asterix! As usual, I do not own Asterix, nor any of the characters, names, or places associated with the Asterix universe. I do not write for profit; only for my own enjoyment and (hopefully) the enjoyment of others. ;)

Winter.

The most unpredictable of all the seasons. It can be as light and quiet as silence, snowflakes falling in gentle patterns; or it can contain a fierce hostility, with ice, and cold, and wind. It blankets the land, freezing the trails of raging rivers to a sluggish trickle. It casts the lush forests into a gray and brittle slumber. It sends many beasts out of sight, leaving only those most adapted to the harsh weathers of crisp winter. The dead season. The season both of beauty, and danger. And yet, for one small, Gaulish village, perched just out of the reach of the sea's frigid waves, life was just as it always was, no matter the season.

A pink and golden sun rose slowly from the East, casting long, blue shadows over the banks of fresh fallen snow. Birds began to chirp, though not as many as usual, for many of the winged creatures had long since flown for warmer climates. All that remained was a few snowbirds, whose songs rang out in the early morning dawn with quick, melodic twitters that heralded yet another day. There was no breeze; not a single twig shifted in all the woodlands, promising that the sun's light, at least, might have a chance of warming the world it looked down upon. Like a veil being slowly pulled away, the darkness began to recede, making way for bright, golden beams. They started on the tip of the bard's chimney, slowly spreading, as the sun rose higher, to cover his whole tree. Then it danced across the rooftops of the other cottages, trickling light down to fill the doorways and windows. Morning had come. Villagers slowly began to shift awake; blinking away their slumber and preparing themselves for yet another day as the only remaining Gauls that stood against Caesar's reign.

Within one of these huts, on the far Northern side of the village, one Gaul simply refused to wake. Obelix always enjoyed the comfort of his bed. His slumber was deep, and peaceful; undisturbed. His cot bowed under his considerable weight, as he lay sprawled on his stomach with an arm hanging limp on either side of the mattress. His blanket barely covered him, protecting his back and shoulders, but neglecting his limbs and head. But Obelix didn't mind. Cold did not bother him like it did the others, for you see, when he was just a little boy, Obelix had fallen into a cauldron of Magic Potion. The potion was brewed by their druid, Getafix, and granted one superhuman strength, temporarily. But when Obelix had fallen in, drinking every last drop of an entire cauldron, the effects of the potion had become permanent. His strength was legendary; fueling his body in every way possible. Including, apparently, his incredible tolerance for the frigid air of the winter morning outside.

All at once, from the ground floor of Obelix's hut, the sound of small, pattering feet scratched and scuttled their way up the wooden ladder that led to the Gaul's bedroom. A moment later, the small, furry head of a tiny pup peeked over the edge of the loft, blinking and tilting his head to the side before letting out one, sharp yip. Obelix shifted slightly, letting out a moan of annoyance. The tiny dog frowned, fumbling up the rest of the way. His little feet going what seemed like a mile a minute, the pup ran the distance between them, leaping up into his master's bed. Wiggling beneath the blanket, he enjoyed the warmth, but knew that they couldn't stay there all day. Working his way up to Obelix head, which was buried face first in a large, puffy pillow, the dog began licking his master's ears with a passion.

From within the down and feathers of the pillow, a deep chuckle sounded. Then another, as the pup continued his work. Obelix tried to turn his ear away from the wet tongue of his pet, but it only exposed more of his face; and the tiny creature took full advantage of it. Sliding his tongue against Obelix's cheek did the trick. With another, far more conscious laugh, Obelix lifted his head, fixing a humorously stern gaze on the pup.

"Dogmatix," he scolded, though his voice held nothing but joy and mirth. The pup's response was to crouch, tail wagging in glee that his master was now fully awake. Swinging his short, stubby legs over the side of the bed, Obelix held out a hand for Dogmatix to climb into. The dog obliged, jumping up and giving one final lick to Obelix's nose.

"Now, Dogmatix; what have I told you about waking me up at the crack of dawn?" He waved a thick finger in front of the pup's nose, only for the creature to lick that as well. Obelix's facade melted at once, breaking his face into a wide, beaming grin. "Aw, well, that's alright. We can get an early start on our work, then go hunting with Asterix for breakfast."

Dogmatix yapped in agreement, leaping down to the floor as Obelix slowly slid to his feet. He had to hold his sleeping shorts up with one hand, seeing as they had no belt to do so. He favored a pair of blue and white stripes, though of a thinner pattern than his usual garb. He made his way to a polished pot, picking up a small knife. After giving himself a shave, Obelix got himself dressed.*

Sliding his way down the ladder, Dogmatix held gently within his palm, Obelix arrived on the ground floor of his cottage. He took a glance out of the window, taking in the white snow that covered every inch of the village. It didn't look as cold as it could have been, what with the sun shining and all. Obelix wouldn't have even considered lighting a fire in his hearth, if it wasn't for his awareness that, though he may not need the warmth all that much, Dogmatix would. Starting a fire, he gave the pup a pat on the head. "There. That's when we come back from walkies. Don't want you getting ill, like some of the others."

It was true. Colds were very common in winter, especially among certain villagers. Cacofonix had a very weak constitution, and often caught one sickness after the other. Nothing serious, but enough to keep him from singing, to everyone else's relief. Vitalstitistix had also caught a cold this time around; having no choice but to submit himself to the non-too-gentle remedies of his wife, Impedimenta. A few others had fallen to the bitter winter, remaining in bed with stuffy noses, and in the worst case, a mild fever. Obelix didn't get colds very often. Only on very rare occasions, along with a few cases of hay fever. But other than that, his health was abnormal to say the least. For a man of his size and girth, he had the energy of a child, which might have had something to do with the potion as well.

"Come on, then, Dogmatix!" Obelix called, opening the door of his home and stepping out into the chilly morning air. All he required for warmth was a small scarf, knitted and sent by carrier by his mother, Vanilla, who lived a good distance away in Condate.

Dogmatix followed his master, whimpering slightly as his paws sank into the icy snow. It was numbing, but he soon got used to it. He leaped from one of Obelix's footprints to the next, finding the snowdrifts too deep otherwise. They walked behind the large Gaul's hut, down to the quarry where Obelix made his living. Making menhirs was diligent work; requiring skills of strength and precision. Though, under normal, everyday tasks Obelix lacked that first trait, when it came to a hammer and chisel, there was no one more skilled. Taking up his tools of the trade, Obelix went to work, chipping away at a stone he had started the previous day. This menhir would be for Tenansix, who lived near the center of town. Obelix had noticed the stone he had made several months back was beginning to look rather weathered. A new menhir might be on Tenansix's list of current needs, and Obelix wanted to be able to fill that need as soon as it was expressed.

By the time the sun had reached the tips of the countless menhirs in the quarry, Obelix had finished yet another masterpiece. He was really quite proud of it. It was a little longer and thinner than some, but, then again, Obelix liked variety. This one would do quite nicely for his friend.

"Obelix!"

And speaking of friends, that cheerful call could only belong to one person.

"Over here, Asterix! In the back!" Obelix set down his chisel and hammer, beaming down at Dogmatix with a knowing smile. "And now for breakfast," he commented to his pet.

A moment later, the crunching of fresh-fallen snow beneath the feet of a very light person could be heard; just before Asterix came into view. He was a short fellow, barely even half of Obelix's height, and nowhere near his girth. Asterix was the village warrior, a duty that he took very seriously; with more loyalty and devotion then any outsider could ever understand fully. The smaller Gaul was dressed more snugly than Obelix, sporting a scarf, as well as a pair of warm, woolen mittens; knitted and sent by his own mother. Obelix smiled when he saw him; his best friend in all the world, but found it hard to suppress the small amount of worry that managed to sound in his voice.

"Did you sleep well?"

Asterix chuckled as he reached him, leaning down to pick Dogmatix up in his arms. "Of course I did," he laughed, "I haven't been better."

"Your...nightmares...Are they gone yet?"

Asterix's smile faltered slightly. It was a question he really should have expected by now. Obelix asked it every morning, with that same nervous look in his eyes. Asterix averted his gaze, trying his best to gain back his joyful demeanor. "Not completely." Then he added quickly, "But almost. I'm far better than before. It's been almost five months, Obelix; I'll be fine. I promise."

Obelix wasn't so sure. Indeed, it really had been five months since...since Mastix had come. Mastix had been a terrible, evil druid. He had come to steal the Magic Potion, but had then set his sights on Asterix, due to the short Gaul's unusual and rare gift; the Soul Light*. It had been a most horrible experience, for all the Gauls. Mastix had used his power to attack them; torture them, until Asterix had given himself up. It was only by a miracle that Asterix had survived, but he had not done so without a few long-lasting consequences. He had been suffering from terrible nightmares. Obelix had stayed with him in Asterix's hut for the better part of a month, until Asterix's mind began to heal. But his dreams, less horrific though they may be, were still rather unpleasant, from time to time. Far more often than Obelix liked. But there was never any use in arguing with Asterix.

"Well," Obelix closed with reluctance, "If you're sure."

Asterix nodded. "I'm sure." He stared into his friend's slightly frowning face, before adding in an almost needling voice. "I don't suppose you're hungry...or that you would be interested in a boar hunt?"

Obelix's eyes lit up at once with indignation. "Now hold on just a minute, Mr. Asterix, but I don't recall saying anything of the sort!" He sounded mad, but the twinkle in his eye showed that he knew what Asterix was up to, and had no problem with taking the bait. Neither did his stomach, which gave a loud, insistent gurgle. Obelix patted it soothingly, causing Asterix to laugh.

"Well, then, Mr. Obelix, will you join me?"

Throwing his tools back to their small alcove by the face of rock, Obelix rubbed his hands together and started ambling toward the village center. "Well, come on then," he called back. "Wild boar can only wait so long, Asterix!"

Asterix smirked. "And that goes for him, as well," he stage whispered to Dogmatix. The pup replied with a yip, before both of them took off to catch up with their bigger friend.

The village, early though it may be, was a hustle and a bustle with life. Children ran back and forth, school having been declared canceled for the day. They raced about, building Roman soldiers out of snow. Capped with bent and dented helmets and armor, it gave the appearance of a mass invasion, to anyone who might not know any better. Little girls occupied themselves indoors, helping their mothers bake fresh bread and biscuits. The warm aroma of toasting dough filled every corner of the village, making everybody's mouths water. Even near Unhygienix's hut. The fishmonger's stock actually resembled the word 'fresh' this time of year, as they were frozen solid. One had to thaw one's meal before eating, what actually tasted, for once, mildly tolerable. Though, Unhygienix would have told you that they were just as fresh as always.

Laughter filled the streets, as did idle chatter. The sharp clanging of hammer against iron, sounding out from Fulliautomatix's blacksmith shop, added an overall, almost musical aspect to the atmosphere. Icicles hung from every roof, long and slender; dripping as the sun did its best to warm the world below it. And, far above all the other huts, Cacofonix sat on the edge of the platform of his tree, softly tuning his lyre.

It was really a wonder that the bard had no trouble doing so. Only five months before, he had fallen from the considerable height of that same tree, resulting in some pretty horrific injuries. But he had healed quickly, thanks to their druid, Getafix, whose Magic Potion also sped up healing, to a degree. After recovering, Cacofonix had insisted on moving back into his tree hut. It was an idea that he seemed more willing to try than his fellow Gauls. His fall had frightened them horribly. But they say that the best way to recover from such a thing, is to jump right back in, before the fear grows too big to conquer. The bard didn't seem to have gained any phobia of falling from his experience, though he was still very cautious.

Obelix waddled through town, Asterix walking swiftly to keep up, and Dogmatix even more so. The gate was now in sight, where they would be able to cross the way and field to the forest beyond. They passed by various persons, all going about their day. As they passed Fulliautomatix's shop, the blacksmith paused in his work and called out to them.

"Where are you two off to?"

"Boar hunt," Asterix replied, stopping to address his friend directly. "Need any meat?"

"No, no; we're still fine. Thank you, though." He gave a toothy grin, glad to see the smile on Asterix's face. It showed that, as each day passed, Asterix was healing more and more.

Asterix nodded. He and Obelix were usually the ones that supplied the village with boar during the winter, seeing as, ever since they were little, the two friends had seemed to have a knack for it. Oh, the others could hunt just fine, but no one could match the team of Asterix and Obelix. Winter, especially, was often too scarce a harvest for the other Gauls when it came to locating boar in the woods. The beasts were around, but far harder to find. But Asterix, and Obelix, never came back empty handed.

"Alright. See you later, Fulliautomatix!" With that, Obelix and Asterix made their way out of the village, and into the frozen forest beyond, ready to proceed with, perhaps, one of Obelix's favorite pastimes.

Boar hunting wasn't just a necessity to Obelix; it was a game. A hobby. An art. He loved everything about it. The challenge of locating where the creatures might be within the vast forest, the heart pumping chase, and then, finally, the well-deserved meal. But, perhaps, the part Obelix had always loved best, was that Asterix always did it with him. Games were no fun alone, and Obelix believed that Asterix understood that. The two friends had made a tradition out of it, ever since they had been old enough to hunt; and it was one that they knew they would carry on far into the future.

Asterix chuckled quietly as they walked through the crisp snow. The air was warming nicely, and he knew that, just as it had with them, the beautiful weather would call out any life that existed in the forest. They wouldn't have to find the boars, they just had to wait for the boars to find them.

Slush puddles impeded their progress a little; well, rather, it slowed Asterix down. He couldn't afford to get wet and chilled, as warm as the air might feel. Obelix, on the other hand, traipsed right through them, water splashing up onto his trousers, soaking them. And he did so without a worry. Asterix shook his head with a smile. Of all the people in the known world, Obelix had to be the most unique. Well, everyone was unique and special in their own way. He himself had discovered that that past summer. But Obelix was different. He hadn't been born with his strength. Nor had he trained or worked hard to earn his title as, perhaps, the strongest man alive. He was a man...chosen...Yes, Asterix supposed that was the right word. Obelix had been chosen by circumstances to be who he was now.

At least, that was what Asterix always tried to tell himself. For a moment, the smaller Gaul's smile vanished in a swirl of guilt. A gnawing blame that Asterix still felt from time to time. After all, it had been his fault that Obelix had ever even fallen into the cauldron of Magic Potion. Though, in all honesty, the big lug should have known better than to lean too far forward. But that was beside the point. The real point was that Asterix had gotten his best friend in all the world into a situation that had left permanent effects on both of them. More for Obelix than him. But...Obelix's strength had turned out for the better. It had saved them in a number of cases. And Obelix had never held Asterix's mistake against him. As far as the other villages, no one knew how it had all happened. Neither Asterix nor Obelix had ever told them. They hadn't even ever told Getafix. Asterix, out of shame, and Obelix out of understanding.

"Asterix? You alright?"

The blonde Gaul startled slightly, bumping into his friend's large hand, which Obelix had held out to stop him. He hadn't meant to get thinking like that. Replacing the frown, which he hadn't even realized he'd been sporting, with a smile, Asterix gave his friend's hand a comforting pat. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." He gave a soft chuckle. "You really don't have to worry about me so much. I can take care of myself." He hadn't meant to, but a hint of annoyance managed to slip through on that last sentence. He was just so tired of being babied. Ever since the whole incident with Mastix, the villagers had been clinging to him like one of Getafix's odd, sticky concoctions. They hardly ever let him out of their sight. And when they did, he returned to a sea of worried faces. And it was starting to really get him down.

The only other person who could relate to his plight was Cacofonix. The bard was the village's next most watched individual. Again, since Mastix had used his power to throw him from his tree, Cacofonix had been the source of much worry, especially by the women. His thin frame and naturally timid nature prompted motherly behavior from all the womenfolk and, though he enjoyed a little attention, like anyone would, like Asterix, he had had enough. The bard, for the past few days, had been going off alone into the forest. It was his only chance for a moment's peace and quiet.

A chance that Asterix could never seem to get.

The shorter Gaul sighed, glancing about him in an effort to calm his heated thoughts. "I'm sorry, Obelix," he huffed, looking anywhere but his friend. "I'm just so done with being the center of everyone else's attention."

Obelix blinked, following Asterix as the blonde Gaul started forward again. He watched Asterix's face, averted as it was, in an attempt to read what he might be thinking. "They're still worried, you know," he prompted softly.

"I know."

Obelix paused to permit Dogmatix to catch up. It was hard for the pup, seeing as most of the snowdrifts were twice as tall as he was.

"But they don't have to be," Asterix insisted, almost earnestly.

Obelix nodded, slowly. After a moment, he asked, "Do you worry about them?"

A rueful smile lit up Asterix's face, and he sent his friend a smirk. "All the time."

"Then I guess it's alright if they return the favor." Obelix returned the grin. "Just this once."

Asterix outright laughed at that. Sometimes he didn't know just where Obelix got this stuff. Whether it was his friend's simple, child-like logic, or just an accidental slip up that sounded wise and understanding on the way out. Either way, Obelix always seemed to know just what to say to bring Asterix back to normal. And right now, Asterix realized, he was out in the safety of their forest, with his best friend by his side, and a home of loving, caring friend's behind him. If that wasn't cause for happiness, he didn't know what was. And with that, he banished all negativity from his thoughts. "Come on, Obelix; let's go get our breakfast."

And they did. As well as lunch later that day, and supper too. The crisp, winter morning turned into a warmer winter day, which in turn became a extra crisp winter night. But the cold didn't bother the Gauls. Inside their toasty huts, fires crackled. Warm, woolen blankets, made by the womenfolk during the summer, came in handy, as well as cauldrons full of steaming, boar stew. All was quiet and tranquil. The Romans, who sat in their respective camps without the comforts the Gauls enjoyed, were more interested in keeping themselves warm than expending energy to fight against an 'indomitable' enemy.

Stars, amazingly bright, twinkled far above in the dark, velvet sky. The moonlight glinted of the crystals in the snow. It was a beautiful night. A normal night...

But things don't always stay normal.

Hello! I'm so glad to be back to writing Asterix! I never realize how much I miss it until I leave it and then come back to it. :) Well, here's the first chapter. Not much happens, as you can see, but I think it's important to show how normal everything in the village is, before I go and stir things up for them. Interestingly, unlike "Safe and Sound", this story is actually a continuation of another of my stories. It's in the same timeline as "An Inner Light". Though, if you really wanted to, you could slip "Safe and Sound" into the timeline somewhere, since I think I do make a few references to it in "An Inner Light". :) Alrighty!

Oh! Almost forgot! I am such a dipstick. I've gone and done something silly. I'm writing five different stories at the same time...So, the chapters might not be as speedy in coming as other times. :)

*In the comic "Asterix and Son", we see that Obelix does indeed shave, as a part of his morning routine. It only made sense that it would be something he would do on a day to day basis.

*The Soul Light, of course, is from my other Asterix story "An Inner Light". If you haven't read that story yet, this story should still make sense, but I do recommend reading "An Inner Light" first. ;)