Despite my undying love for the Ice Climbers, I've never actually written anything about them to express my passion. I found this surprisingly easier to write than anything else I've written, probably because it's solely about them xD This story basically compromises almost all of my headcanons about their backstory, plus my own kind of retelling of their mountain climbing journey (hence the title). There's mentions of random OCs I've made up, but they're not totally important right now - in fact, they're quite minor.
Enjoy reading :
"What are you playing?"
The young boy slowly looks up from his toys, his night blue eyes meeting the inquisitive gaze of a girl his age wrapped in a cosy pink parka.
"It's called Villages. The village's food is all being stolen by the animals, so the chief's going with his climbing people to go up the mountain and get the food again."
"Does the princess do anything?" She points at the wooden doll adorned with crudely tied braids and a little pink and red dress.
The little boy pauses for a moment, picking up the doll and inspecting it thoughtfully.
"Yes, she does. She's gonna lead the climbing people with her chief!" he beams up at her, placing the doll in her hand.
"How high do you reckon that mountain is?"
Its summit is barely halfway up Icicle Mountain – that's the dominating mountain over our region, and the tallest – yet the sloping blankets of snow covering the even steeper slopes themselves are enough to remind us of how small and...human we actually are. Not to mention the fact that this is one out of the thirty-something mountains encircling Icicle Mountain and there's no knowing which mountain the blasted condor's vanished to. Funny how such a huge creature can suddenly disappear into the fog without any trace of its invasion at all.
Well, that part's not entirely true. Considering the amount of wreckage there is in the village now and the gaping absence of food.
"I don't know. It's gonna be quite a challenge." Popo replies, staring up in awe at the peak. His eyes are filled with this kind of determination, a buzz in his gaze that I can only ever see in Popo. It's clear that he'd rather do this for everyone else than for himself, even though he's the one risking his life in the first place.
"Well, duh. What does our village decide to do when its climbing team of responsible adults go missing with the condor? Panic until it takes two-" - I hold two of my fingers up, for added emphasis - "two teenagers to volunteer on behalf of the fifty of us that remain to go up."
He frowns. "When you put it like that, it makes us look kind of stupid, going off and doing this by impulse."
To be fair, the idea in itself didn't sound realistic at all, even to me (surprisingly enough). The only knowledge the pair of us had of climbing was from the few "classes" we'd had from Popo's mom and my dad, which only actually consisted of us hiking up baby cliff sides with barely any height – and worth barely any effort.
This mountain was not a baby cliff side.
I notice Popo opening the enormous sack he'd somehow lugged with us all the way to the foot of the mountain where we were stood now. I decide not to question his strength and make my way over to him so I can peer inside the bag.
"...why have you brought massive hammers?"
"Mallets," he corrects. "Gio said they'd be useful for...breaking stuff."
Gio was our village's stand-in chief for the time being, until Popo was old enough to take over the position. Normally he was just an advisor to Popo's mother (when she'd needed it, which wasn't very often), but it was evident that his family trusted him enough to oversee the village in their untimely absence.
"Aren't they gonna be a bit heavy for us to drag up?" I ask, still overlooking the shapes of the mallets. The heads are almost half the size of us both each, but make up for their lack in height in their colossal width. That might be overexaggerating a bit, but to put it simply: they were gigantic.
"I did ask him that, but he said we'd probably be able to manage." Popo clasps both of his hands tightly around the handle of the ever so slightly more chipped hamm- mallet, and I wait there, watching and expecting him to end up looking quite silly as he struggled to get it off the ground. Not that I underestimated his strength, considering he'd managed to carry them with us in the first place, but holding one properly to use seemed a step too far.
"Oh. It's- it's not as heavy as it looks, Nana."
Okay, maybe I was a bit too judgemental.
He picks up the other mallet with just as much ease as he did with his own, now held in one hand, handing it to me.
I blinked. "Popo, I appreciate the compliment, but just because you're some kind of superman doesn't mean I am too."
Raising an eyebrow, he replies, "And you say I'm the one who's not self-confident enough. Trust me, it's not that bad, especially if it's you holding it."
I end up taking his word for it and taking the mallet into my hands. The abrupt yank to the ground I expect never appears, and I realise that the mallet is actually as light as any regular hammer. Or at least a normal-sized mallet.
I start swinging the mallet around, still admiring how weirdly lightweight it is. It takes a few moments for me to realise I should probably stop before I whack Popo by accident, which he seems terrified of enough anyway as he awkwardly stands by.
"Sorry about that," I laugh nervously. "Maybe these will be useful after all."
His wistful but kind chuckle joins mine, like we're both harmonising some kind of happy tune.
"You don't need to apologise, dummy. It's funny." Popo briefly turns back to the view of our first mountain, before extending his hand out to me as his gaze meets mine again. That mountain really is grand – it's the only way I could possibly describe it. If we were to overcome that single mountain alone, if we stay alive long enough to do that, maybe I would feel like a princess. A grand heroine on top of the world, even if that's only a single mountain. It'd be worth something.
"I think we'd better get going."
It's okay, though, because I already feel worth something enough right at the bottom of this mountain.
It's more than enough.