Warmth

by kabukimono

One day, one world, upon visiting Gravemark Village, Ringabel and Edea find themselves stuck in a blizzard. Luckily, there are cabins in which they can take shelter while it blows over. Except… it blows over far longer than they expect. Will they both leave the cabin alive?

3. Day 3

The new day dawned very similarly to the previous. The sun was only just beginning to rise, the sky outside still a deep blue-red, when the bed's inhabitants stirred.

Edea woke feeling warm, a little too warm. The air outside the layer of blankets was cold, but she had gone to sleep fully dressed - more or less - and wrapped up in Ringabel's arms, as well. The result was that she could feel the sweat sticking the two of them together, and smell it too. Her nose wrinkled in distaste as she moved and felt her shirt peel off her skin.

And then, she felt something else, pressing urgently against her backside, and her cheeks flared with heat - she hadn't known she could feel even more warm, but then again, she did like to be surprised at least once a day. It kept life interesting.

This surprise was something she didn't know how to feel about, though. While her initial urge had been to punch him for this… she shouldn't let it get to her, really - for all her appearances and general attitude toward sex, she had spent enough time with men in close quarters that she had grown familiar with the concept of morning erections. It wasn't truly that big a deal; if Tiz Arrior of all people could sport one now and then, Ringabel definitely could, and had. Not to mention some of the Sky Knights she'd witnessed who had slept in too late for a cold shower, rushing to morning role call. As angry as she had been at him yesterday over the same thing when he had been staring at her, it was different in the morning, when he was asleep and as far as she knew, was experiencing something that all men did.

Still, seeing it briefly before the boys noticed and scurried away with embarrassment, and feeling it so intimately against her were two entirely different things. Edea found herself squirming, only to realize that probably wasn't helping because most of her squirming was right against the object in question. There were too many layers between him - it - and her, and she wasn't sure if it was getting harder, or she was just too aware of it now. If she shifted, she thought she could feel it move, even if Ringabel himself did not, only his chest moving slightly behind her back as he breathed.

She really needed to stop thinking about it. On a list of things she wanted to dwell on, Ringabel's penis was down near the bottom, right on the edge of the paper. But try as she might to think of something else - sword forms, freshly baked pastries, fighting monsters - her thoughts kept coming back to the pressure against her rear. His arms were too tight around her for her to flee the bed entirely, so until he woke up, she'd have to do something about it.

Shifting once more, moving back against him, Edea wedged it in the crevice of her rear. That, at least, was more comfortable than having it press distractedly elsewhere… even if the new resting place meant it was very close to her own sex, and she was feeling heat build up there, making her feel even warmer than she'd been before. A subtle throbbing sensation was starting, and she wondered if he'd be able to feel that through the layers between them… once he woke up, that was.

Listening to him breathe, snoring peacefully, probably dreaming dirty things… it made her a more than little annoyed. And then she'd had to deal with his morning wood on top of it! Edea squirmed in his arms, rocking her hips in a way that guided said wood against her, and practically elbowed him in the side. "Wake up!"

Ringabel let out a noise of discontent, clearly unhappy at a rude awakening, and the hand that clung in front of her stomach flexed. His other arm stretched, then bent so that he could touch his face.

Edea stopped her squirming, waiting with bated breath for him to wake. Oh, maybe she shouldn't call attention to the position they were in but let him notice it himself. He'd die of embarrassment!

After a few moments of the man trying to pull himself into the world of the awake and living, he let out another moan, stretching out all his limbs. The movement made his hips press against her own, and she bit her lip to stifle any noises she might make.

"Is it morning already?" he asked, words slightly slurred with sleep.

"Yes," Edea whispered, and she realized that her heart was doing something funny in her chest as she listened to him. "I'm ready to get up, but you're all… clingy."

"Mmm," he replied, not quite understanding. His brain was foggy with sleep, and his limbs were warm and heavy. He was not in any rush to go anywhere, not when she felt so nice in his arms. He squeezed her for the briefest of moments as he yawned, nuzzling into her head. Edea was both worried he'd fall back asleep, and a little bothered that he was getting all touchy, wondering if she needed to deliver a real elbowing to his soft bits, when she felt him stiffen, his grip going slack. His breath caught in his chest.

She wondered; what had he noticed first - the state of his manhood or how tightly he was holding her, as though they were a couple?

When he didn't inhale a few long seconds, Edea nearly worried that she had actually killed him, and rolled over slightly so that she could look at him over her shoulder, not noticing that way that her weight pressed into him all along the length of his torso. What she could see of his face was a deep red, that red travelling up to the tips of his ears and down his neck.

His arm unwound from her waist, and he rolled back almost as soon as she did, until he was on his back and she was no longer pressed to him. Edea continued rolling, shifting until she faced him properly now, propping herself up on her elbow. The covers covered them both below the waist.

"Sorry," he apologized, glancing at her from the corner of his eyes. "I get a little - in my sleep - I don't - "

"It's fine," she flapped her hand, enjoying the way he stuttered. "You kept me warm in the night."

Ringabel took a deep breath. "Yes…"

Edea weighed whether or not she wanted to bring up his little indiscretion. It probably wasn't kind to refer to that part of him as little, though, she knew that much. "Don't get any ideas," she settled on. "It's just because we're trapped here, and it's cold. And don't get used to it, either. It's not going to happen once we leave."

Ringabel stifled a yawn, looking a bit guilty. "Very well. I shall cherish each moment that you're with me, then." He paused. "Was there… never mind."

"Anything else?" the woman finished for him. "Well, we both kind of stink. And it's really sweaty when we're underneath the blankets, maybe a bit too much. Maybe we need only one blanket in the night; they arerather thick, after all." He made a noise, as though agreeing with her, and she felt him shift uncomfortably. Trying to hide her smile, Edea added, "And your dick got really hard against my butt."

Ringabel gaped at her, and his face, which had been recovering, turned a deep scarlet. It was fascinating to watch the color spread down his neck. "Edea!" he cried, sounding aghast as he propped himself on an elbow and half sat up. His legs crossed slightly. "That was - that was just - you know it just happens! It didn't mean anything!"

"I know," she said cheerfully. He hadn't even been awake, how could she think he was being dirty? And she'd seen both him and Tiz with awkward morning erections more than once. After laughing at them the first couple of times, there wasn't any point in mentioning it, until now.

"I'm getting up," Ringabel declared, now thoroughly awake, and she watched him fling the bedcovers aside as he slipped out of bed. The front of his pants was still bulging slightly, and Edea found her eyes following it - and him - as he stomped with bare feet over to the back door and opened it to be greeted by a wall of snow.

He took a handful and pressed it to his red face.

Edea giggled. "Are you going to shave with the snow, too?" He had stubble growing in, barely visible due to the color of his hair, but there nonetheless. It wasn't a bad look. He was young for a full beard, perhaps, but Edea always thought men should have some facial hair.

"If I wanted to die of infection," Ringabel muttered as he rubbed his handful of snow across his face. The freezing substance woke him up more thoroughly than a cup of coffee. "The razors here are rusted over. Even I am not that desperate yet."

"Oh, we have my sword," Edea pointed out, and she made to leave the bed as well, pausing to push her feet into her boots. "I could give you a shave."

"I'll consider it," he replied, edging away as she joined him at the door. Instead of taking any snow though, Edea was looking at the white, fluffy wall in front of them.

"Is it just me, or has it not gone down at all?" she asked.

Ringabel examined it more closely now, taking the opportunity of her being distracted to drop some of the remnants of the snow against the back of her neck. She shrieked and danced away from him. "I believe it has, but only just a bit. It makes sense it wouldn't melt if the sun weren't out."

She took a handful of snow to toss at him, laughing as it exploded in powder against his chest, adding spots to his shirt. His stomach was already as damp with sweat as hers felt, a testament to exactly how warm their bed was getting.

Ringabel pouted at her as he brushed the snow off. Edea used the excuse of following the path of the snow to the floor to check him out once more; the bulge was very nearly gone.

"Another day, then," he guessed. "We'll have to let the sun do her magic."

"Ugh," Edea replied, her good mood evaporating like she wished the snow would. Couldn't they just… aim a firaga out the door or something? "Then we're stuck another day together."

"You needn't sound so excited. I am thrilled, of course!"

"You would be. In any case, we have to do something about the smell - I'm not spending another day like this," she said, gesturing to herself. Her clothes were sweaty, and she felt and smelled terrible. That might be trapped, but that didn't mean they had to be filthy. Filth lead to sickness and being sick and trapped with Ringabel would be even worse.

"You want to bathe?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. He looked her up and down.

"Is that so surprising? Unlike some people, I don't enjoy the smell of my - what was it, natural musk?"

"It was only that one time!" he protested, then cleared his throat. "The restroom has a basin you can use to wash - it'll be big enough to sit in, if you want a bath. And then I think I saw a smaller one we can use to wash our clothes, provided we find soap."

This was going to be tricky, without a change of clothes. Edea almost changed her mind, but when Ringabel passed her to go look for the basin, she got a fresh whiff of his scent and - nope. If they were going to be walled up together, he was going to smell nice, even if she had to hold him hostage in the tub at swordpoint.

Of course, if the two of them hadn't decided it would be a brilliant idea to exercise, she doubted that they'd smell quite this… ripe by now. It had seemed like a good idea at the time! She threw up her hands and followed him.

Shortly Ringabel had dragged out the smaller of the basins into the room. "How about this," he explained. "While you wash up, I'll wash your clothes and hang them to dry over the fire. And then as I wash, you do the same."

"One, I don't trust you with my clothes," she started, ignoring his protest of "Really?!","And two, our clothes are not going to dry that quickly, fire or not. Shouldn't we try to find a change of clothes or… something to wear while we wait?" She wasn't keen on the idea of being nude near him, not when she was feeling confusing things.

"Wouldn't you think we would have noticed extra clothes lying around here?" Ringabel replied, frowning. They had searched all over, after all, and while they had found some scraps of fabric, and Edea did sew, there were no needles about and he doubted she could make anything serviceable.

"Well…" Edea glanced around. "We could look some more. Come on."

She turned before he could answer, though she heard him grumble behind her as he followed her to the other side of the room. There wasn't much there they hadn't already gone through since yesterday, but Edea rummaged around anyway. There had to have been some sort of dresser or armoire for clothing, but she couldn't see one! Upon closer inspection, there were gouges in the wooden floor that hinted that something heavy may have once been standing, but was now removed… which made her scowl and glance over where Ringabel was once again going through the desk, his expression blank.

She hated it when his expression was like that, making him hard to read. Who did he think he was, Alternis?! Her frown deepened further, especially when her stomach growled suddenly. Ringabel glanced up at her, and their eyes met.

"I'm hungry," she said.

"I noticed," he replied, not unamused, and he turned away to head off the into the kitchen. She followed him and watched as he dug the pot of leftovers out of the ice box and shoved it on the stove, starting the fire with a quick spell. "We'll let it sit here while we look," he said, as he stirred the mush around.

Edea wanted food now, though. She came up on his side to take the spoon from him. "You look," she suggested. "I'll stay here." They needed some distance. Between desperately wanting to bathe and being hungry, she was feeling irritated and overstimulated, and she hated having him in close proximity. If only there were actual rooms here!

Ringabel looked sidelong at her. "Don't add anything to it!" he warned. "The taste is perfect just the way it is."

She flapped her hand at him. "There's nothing wrong with experimenting once in a while, Ringabel. Come on, it's a little bland." She watched him grab the box that contained the satchels of spices as he walked past. "Ringabel!" Didn't he trust her?!

Ringabel was on his toes as he placed the box on the very top of the armoire, far out of her reach. "I like it bland," he called across the room, and she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Just like your taste in women," she muttered, thinking back to his many girlfriends. The few she'd met had been… nice enough, she supposed, but more than a little bland. It explained everything.

"Wha - my taste in what, exactly?" the man asked her, staring at her with wide eyes. He hated arguing with Edea, or anyone, especially in such an enclosed area, but he thought he'd heard the tail end of her remark and wasn't sure how to feel about it. His taste in women was fine; he loved her, didn't he? Perhaps in the past he'd been attracted to some who were more beautiful on the outside than in, but…

"Nothing," she replied hastily. That had been a out of line, and without coffee, Ringabel had been known to be tetchy and argumentative in the morning, even toward the girls. She did not want to start a fight.

As she stirred breakfast, still wishing she could add in more seasoning, Ringabel continued to search in the living portion of the cabin, opening drawers and peering under the table. Finally, he disappeared into the restroom.

Probably to tidy up, Edea thought to herself. He could be so vain; the day that he didn't spend an hour in the bathroom before making an appearance to his friends would be the day she believed he was truly in love, proposals or not.

The stew was nicely warmed by the time he emerged, his hair dusty and disheveled, and his arms full. Edea briefly considered helping him before she went back to stirring. He'd be fine. Manual labor was good for him.

Ringabel deposited his findings on the kitchen table with a loud noise. "I found soap," he said, gesturing to a tiny tin bucket with one hand as he wiped his face with the back of the other, smearing dirt on his cheeks. " And a dolly to go in the other basin here. We can wash our clothes with that."

She sighed. "And…"

"And there's plenty of blankets that we can huddle under while we wait for our clothes to dry," he supplied, testing the long dolly in the tub. It clanged. "We'll make a clothesline from the rope in the supplies."

She really wanted to take a bath, really wanted to put on clean warm clothes, but the idea of huddling under a blanket while she waited for her clothes to dry wasn't ideal, especially knowing he would be in the same boat, and nearby. She'd already had a close encounter with his dick once today, she didn't exactly want another.

Ringabel approached her now, seemingly in a slightly better mood, even without his coffee. "Edea, please. I'm not sure what you think I may do, but… it'll be more efficient if I clean your clothes, and you clean mine. Less risk of us catching cold. " He looked down at her pleadingly.

Edea growled in response. She didn't have much of a choice, did she? "Don't do anything crazy!" she cried, taking out her frustration on the pot of food in front of her. It was so much easier when Tiz did the laundry, or at least when Tiz helped with the laundry, and when the Proprietress cooked for them. And another day alone with Ringabel with so very little to do sounded dreadful. Boredom and Edea did not mix well, boredom and Ringabel mixed even worse.

"I would never," he replied, sounding affronted. "I am a gentleman, after all. Besides, it's freezing. I would hardly hide your clothes from you." He gave her a pointed look. "I ask you the same, of course… don't get sneaky."

"I'm not sneaky," she mumbled, flushing. Him hiding her clothes had not been what she had thought he might do but sure, they would go with that. Maybe she was being unreasonable.

Once the leftovers were boiling hot, they ladled it out into bowls. Edea quickly noticed that Ringabel's portion was much smaller than her own, and she glared up at him, knocking his hand. Doing so jarred his bowl, and hot soup splashed over his fingers. With a hiss, Ringabel quickly set his bowl down on the counter before he dropped it.

"What?" he cried, reaching for a cloth to press against his scalded skin. "What did I do?!" He stared at her, betrayed.

"You know what you did, Ringabel!" she argued, setting her own food aside before it spilled over one or both of them. "I've already told you that I don't need you starving yourself for me - I don't need you to put food aside for me as though I'm a child. I don't want you to go hungry for my sake!" She'd seen him eat large meals in the past; he could pack it away almost as much as she could, and she had been a little hungry the past couple of days with the limited food. Nothing major, nothing that would kill her, but she didn't want him going without for her. He'd gone without enough in the past.

"I'm not," he replied, rubbing the dish towel roughly over his fingers. He reached over the sink to wet the cloth before pressing it back on his skin. "I've had plenty of smaller meals in my life, even as a Dark Knight. When trapped and with limited supplies, you have to ration yourself to make sure you have enough to last you until rescue or escape, after all. What I don't eat now, I can eat later"

She hadn't even thought of rationing and suddenly felt chastened. He had a valid point, and she hated it when he did - it reminded her that underneath his flighty, outlandish exterior, he had a good brain on him and that he could be counted on to use it when it mattered most. It was like his heart, hiding underneath the inappropriate comments he made.

Unable to find something to say to say that wouldn't continue the argument that she had no energy for, she fell silent and watched him examine his hand. It wasn't burnt, but the skin was red.

"I'm sorry," she settled on, and reached to take his hands in her own. They were just as calloused as her own, and much larger, and she whispered a quick healing spell that cleared up the redness as she traced some of his callouses on his palm with her thumb. Luckily, the healing spell did not affect those. It would be terrible if he had to regrow them all over again, considering he was a swordsman.

Ringabel pulled his hands out of hers first, surprisingly, though he moved slowly. "You've nothing to apologize for. Just be careful, please. We only packed a few potions." They had wanted to rely on magic alone for their trip, but Tiz had insisted on the potions, just in case. Luckily, sleep easily renewed the energy needed for spells, and so she had mana in abundance, so she doubted they would need to resort to the potions, but… just in case.

Now that his hands were free, Ringabel picked up his bowl again. "Let's eat and then take baths," he said.

"Okay," she found herself agreeing. She didn't want to fight with him, and didn't want to hurt him again. The sooner she bathed and got clean, the sooner she might feel better,

Their breakfast wasn't delicious, but it at least partially filled their bellies. As Edea took a small second helping for the energy boost, Ringabel set some water to boil in another large pan. His plan, he'd explained, was to put snow in the basin and then pour boiling water over it - both melting the snow and evening out the temperature. The result hopefully, with some trial and error, would be a bath that was tolerable, if not slightly too warm or too cold.

In the meantime, they needed hot water to clean their clothes, too. With all of those fires going, it was actually getting warm in the cabin, and the two of them were sweating and red-faced by the time they had finished preparing for the now even more needed baths.

To make things easier, they had dragged the wash basin behind the screen and carefully thrown blankets over it so that neither of them could see through the other side. But this way, they could talk while they bathed and cleaned, and she would be in the warmth of the main room. They had both agreed to avoid the chill of the restroom as much as possible aside from necessary visits.

Edea stood on one side of the screen, tapping her feet as she waited for Ringabel to give her the okay to undress. Now that the bath water was nicely warmed and he was boiling the last batch of water for the laundry, she just wanted to get on with it.

"Hold on," he called, and she heard the sound of water splashing into the tall basin. "And now the soap and… alright, Edea. It's ready!"

"Finally," she breathed, and started to disrobe. Her clothes she flung over the top of the screen so that they landed on the floor on the other side for him to retrieve (another advantage of bathing in the main room), including, with much reluctance, her bandeau and panties.

"Don't do anything weird," she threatened him as she heard the rustle of her clothes being picked up. She listened carefully to the sound for any shenanigans.

"So distrustful," he sniffed. "Have some faith in me, my dear!"

Grumbling a response, the grumbles faded as she slipped into slightly soapy bath water. Ahhh… Edea smiled as she settled in, wiggling slightly in the water and causing it to splash on the floor. Whoops. Oh well. They would clean up later.

Sighing loudly, she stretched her legs out slightly above the metal rim of the basin and ran her hands down her calves. Lathering some more soap onto a hand towel, she got to quick work scrubbing her legs of the layer of grime that had built up. The soap itself was harsh and smelled medicinal, but it did the job of cleaning her nicely and she continued to scrub until her skin was shiny and wet and clean, most importantly of all.

As she scrubbed, she heard the sound of Ringabel using the dolly stick to clean her clothes, the man huffing loudly as he worked to agitate the bundle of cloth to get the soap mixed in well with the dirt and sweat in the clothes. While they both knew that the end result wouldn't be as effective without letting the laundry soak for at least a few hours, at least it would be something. She closed her eyes, so that she could see him in her mind's eye. His face would be red, and he was probably rather wet, his clothes clinging to him as he was splashed with soap water, his strong arms driving the dolly in and out of the basin.

… though the water was warm, the air around her still had a chill. When she opened her eyes, she realized her nipples had stiffened painfully, which meant she needed to finish up soon and get out. Hunching over and grasping a bowl in her hands, she soaked her hair and scrubbed tiny bits of soap at the nape of her neck, where the sweatiest parts were. Not nearly as vain of her hair as the blond man, she did want to take care of it, and old body soap was not the best to use, so she would need to be careful.

Ringabel seemed to be finished, or just resting, as the sounds of the stick in the basin had ceased.

"Ringabel?" she called after she was finished rinsing her hair and didn't think she would inhale any of the sharp scented soap. Her eyes were still squeezed shut, just in case.

"Yes?" he replied distantly. "I'm letting it soak a bit before another round and the rinse. No need to worry, dear. Stay in there a bit longer."

Well, if he insisted, she wasn't going to argue with him. Carefully pulling her hair back over her shoulders so that she didn't flip water everywhere in the room, she squeezed out excess moisture and relaxed, sinking down further into the water.

He was just a few feet away, she remembered, glancing over in his direction. With the screen in the way, they could not see each other, but there was nothing preventing him from walking around the other side of the screen to peek. For such a perverted man, she almost half expected it of him; she doubted even Alternis would be able to resist! That thought made her laugh softly to herself. Alternis would never peek. He was far too much uptight to do something so indecent, not to mention afraid of incurring her wrath or something. Which in itself angered her, because that meant he avoided her most of the time. Even if she didn't hold romantic feelings for him, she would like to see the man every now and then.

"Mrgrgr," she mumbled to herself as she scrubbed at her arms again. He'd pushed himself so far away she hadn't even recognized him, after all.

"What's wrong?" Ringabel asked from the other side of the screen.

"Nothing!" she called, flushing. He could hear everything she was doing, couldn't he? Crossing her arms around her chest, she closed her eyes and forced herself to relax, thinking about the delicious food she was going to eat once they could leave. Strawberry crepes, butterscotch sticky buns, double chocolate cheesecake… a triple layer, ice cream and mousse parfait layered with fresh fruit, whipped cream, and caramel drizzle. She could already taste it, the ice cream thick in her mouth and so sweet, the fruits chewy and the caramel sticking to her teeth. She moaned happily to herself at the thought, wiggling in the tub.

There was a horrible clunking sound from the room as Ringabel dropped the washing basin, spilling wet clothes and the wash water all over. She gasped, half-rising.

"Ringabel?!"

"It's fine!" he called, his voice squeaking. "I - I tripped, is all! Stay there."

She had planned to, but he was suspicious. Now she finished washing, running the washcloth over her legs one last time before she stood, letting the warm water drip down her sides. She shivered and reached for the towel that was folded nearby, too cold to remain like this for long. Wrapping the towel securely around her torso, and draping another loosely over her head and shoulders, she glanced around the side of the divider.

Ringabel had attempted to clean up, but she could still see a mess of water and soap on the floor slowly creeping across the room. The man himself was in the kitchen, letting her clothes rinse in the water from the sink as he attempted to mop up the mess. His own clothes were already soaked from chest to toe.

"What happened?" she asked him.

"I told you, I tripped," he said. His face was red, and he glanced at her for the merest of moments before glancing back down at the mop in his hands.

"You're so clumsy," she shook her head as she decided to cross the room to him. "Here. We'll trade places. You're going to get sick if you don't heat up and dry off soon."

"I - what?" Ringabel stammered as she approached him. He gaped at her, and she was fully aware of the way his eyes swept over her form. So when she grabbed the mop, she was sure to yank it out from under him, causing him to stumble.

"You heard me," she said, brandishing the wet part of the mop against his behind, soaking that just as thoroughly as the front of his pants. "Go, get out of my way! Ringabel, you're hopeless when it comes to housework. Just like a man."

Using the mop, she shoved and pushed him over to the dividers, careful of the wet floor, and as soon as he batted the mop aside and ducked behind the screen for privacy, she went back to cleaning. What on earth had he done, she wondered as she mopped the best she could, squeezing out the extra water into the nearly empty wash basin. She was going to have to boil more water to clean his clothes that he was dropping over the side of the screen, the garments falling to the floor with a damp splat.

She sighed.

The bath had been nice and she felt clean, if not a little cold, but with this mess, her clothes hadn't been put to dry yet, and she would have to sit around waiting! And it seemed likely they would now have to wait… sitting… together… Edea threw her clothes over the impromptu clothesline they had made out of some rope and two chairs in the front of the fire, then went to retrieve his clothing to return the favor. Ringabel was splashing around in the basin as he scrubbed.

"Don't forget behind your ears," she called to him even as she bent to retrieve his clothes. Jacket, shirt, pants, socks… wait. Edea shook out his pants, confused. Then she checked his shirt. And then his jacket. The only thing there was some stray pg that she liberated for herself.

Where was Ringabel's underwear? And… why was she actually wanting to find it? Ew! Seriously though. Edea gave the screen a long, suspicious glance before she spoke. "I regret having to even ask this, but where the hell is your underwear?" She hoped he was actually wearing some here.

Ringabel cleared his throat. "I'll wash them later," he commented, casually.

Edea let out a growl of frustration. "Ringabel… Ringabel!" Why didn't he have a last name she could use against him? "Don't be difficult. You washed mine! It's not like it's anything I haven't seen before." They had all helped with laundry before. She'd washed his drawers more times than she'd like to count.

"I know, but it's - still! I'll wash them myself later. It's unladylike for you to wash a man's undergarments."

"That means you won't be wearing any under your pants later? Absolutely not!" That was pretty gross to think about. Making a face at the divider, she made up her mind.

"I'm coming around."

"Wait - what? Edea, wait - wait!" His protests could not stop her as she braced herself, half-covered her eyes with her hand, and marched around the open side of the divider.

Ringabel shrieked and covered himself, hunching over in the bath. Edea cackled at his discomfort and yanked his discarded drawers from the floor; he had left them just to the side of the tub. They were already damp from the accident earlier, and she wrapped them up in his pants so she wouldn't need to continue touching them.

Glancing down at the man who looked as if he wanted to drown himself, she nodded curtly. "I'll get started on your clothes, then."

Making sure that the towel wrapped around her was tight, she set to work on driving the dolly stick back and forth and side to side, watching the soap bubbles splash around. This was hard work. They had a little machine in the Grandship that they put their laundry in, but that one could spin just with the turn of a handle, easier but tedious - she thought she hated that but this was far worse! This required more manual labor than she had expected, and she was panting by the time the water turned a grimy gray.

Mopping her forehead with the towel over her head, she drained out as much of the water as she could, added more, then topped it off with soap crystals and decided to let it soak just as he had, throwing herself in front of the fire to warm. Her skin was dry, but her hair was still wet and she was near-naked, besides.

"I'm letting them soak," she told Ringabel, hearing him shift around in the tub as he poured water over and over - probably over his hair.

"Very well!" he answered. "I can finish up them up if you need."

"Don't tempt me." When she got back to Eternia she was going to kiss Tiz for doing their laundry most of the time. Even if they had to stay in this cabin for another month, she wasn't sure she'd repeat this.

By the time she had Ringabel's clothes finished, nicely rinsed and hanging over the line to dry, he was loudly complaining about the temperature of the water. She had made him stay until he was squeaky clean and soap free, on threat of cutting his hair with her sword.

"You're free now. Go ahead and get out of there," she snapped at him as she heard him splash around.

"It's cold," he whined.

"Get out here or I'll make you cold." What a great threat that was. Edea tugged the towel closer over her shoulders. Her clothes were still damp, but warm when she tested them.

Closing her eyes so that she didn't see anything inadvertently, she could hear Ringabel as he stood out of the water and sloshed out of it. A pause… he was probably drying down… she was trying not to imagine it, the slide of the towel of his form and - nope. After agonizing long moments, there was the rustle of fabric before his footsteps approached.

She yelped as a blanket fell over her head, flailing to pull it off so that she could breathe.

"Ringabel, what are you - "

Ringabel flopped onto the couch beside her. His hair clung to his cheeks, framing a wide smile. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, and another over his head and shoulders just like she, which meant that most of his chest and stomach were bare and glistening with water droplets. "Didn't I say earlier? We can huddle under blankets while the clothes dry. As snug as a bug in a rug."

Oh. Right, he had said that. Not the bug part, but the blanket part. She wrapped it tightly around herself, noting that he had brought his own separate blanket. Good. There was no way she was sharing anything with him when they were half naked.

Turning away from him and his shiny stomach, she stared into the fire burning in the stove nearby. Ringabel was quiet as well now, and they could hear the sound of the fire crackling. For long moments, all that filled the air was the sound of the fire and of the wind outside, the ever present wind. Glancing at their clothing drying nearby, Edea could see steam rising from the garments. Hopefully hers would be dry soon; Ringabel's thick pants and jacket would take longer, but he would survive.

She did not know how much time passed before Ringabel leaned forward, covered in his blanket from shoulder to knee, to throw another log on the fire.

"Well, my dear. Do you feel better?" he asked when he leaned back. His blanket was snug around his torso.

"I do," she admitted. Now that she was clean and very warm, the grime was gone and so was the annoyance she'd felt. Not to mention, the clean up had taken some time out of their day. It was better than sitting around doing nothing.

"I'm glad," he replied, sincerely. "If there's anything I can do to help you further, you need only let me know. I will do all in my power to grant your requests."

She gave him a look that told him he was being weird again. "We're stuck in a cabin, there's no cream to make ice cream, and no ingredients whatsoever for cake! There's little you can do." She paused, then continued. "Unless you can dry my clothes off for me?"

"I can, with time."

Edea swatted him, but she was smiling despite herself. "Okay Mr. Hotshot. Show me what you can do."

"I beg your pardon?" Ringabel asked, his eyes wide. He glanced over at the line of clothes as she waved her hand at it.

"Dry my clothing," she told him.

When he looked back at her, he was grinning now. "I said I could dry it with time. And so, give it another hour or so and it will be fine."

Edea groaned and shoved him through the blankets. Of course! "I'll hold you to it. If they're not done in an hour, you owe me."

"And if they are?" he asked. She gave him an even glare that she hoped told him that he was pressing his luck, but he only hugged his blanket tighter around him. "What do I get if I win?"

Privately, she thought it would be very likely that he won, given how thin her clothing was, and how long it had been drying by the fire. If he won, it would be because he'd cheated! "Hmm," she pretended to think for a long moment just to make him sweat. "If you win, I'll…"

"A kiss."

"What?" She stared at him, startled by how forward that was. He seemed just as surprised by what had come out of his mouth, as he sometimes did.

He hastily corrected himself, glancing away. "A date. You said you would consider one earlier, but should your clothes dry in an hour, will you please grant me a date?"

"You really don't back down, do you?" she asked, shaking her head.

"When it comes to you, no," Ringabel admitted, and he looked over, their gazes meeting. Edea's breath caught in her throat as his eyes held hers. Pale, and a rather unusual color, they showed a seriousness she wasn't sure she had seen before. She worried for a moment she might lose herself in them, and in the emotions she could see swimming in that undefinable color. What could he see in hers?

Edea looked away first, then shoved her shoulder against his. He yelped, rubbing it with his hand.

"Geez, you're so persistent," she said again, but there was no real bite to her voice as she leaned against him. Ringabel huffed slightly, but made no move to either push her way or bring her closer. "Fine," she finally decided. "If my clothes are dry in an hour, you'll take me on a date. A nice, real date to a restaurant for dinner."

He was breathless when he replied. Was that a hint of giddiness in his voice? "Of course. I'll book the reservation as soon as we're out of here."

Edea smiled, ducking her head down against his shoulder so that he couldn't see the movement of her lips. "Make sure they have a good dessert menu." She had no idea why she was telling him this, as if he had already won.

"Only the most robust dessert menus will do," he agreed, and now she could feel him leaning against her in turn. With the thick blankets between them, that was as good as it was going to get. Edea closed her eyes and began to listen to the sound of the fire again.

In this little cabin, surrounded by snow and so far removed from the world in which they had found themselves, time was impossible to tell. Edea - and Alternis - had been trained on how to track the passage of time by the way of the sun, but given that Eternia's snow clouds often hid the sun behind them, it was still spotty. Still, she kept her eyes on the shadows that moved around the room, even as they dimmed in the light. It had taken them so long to get everything for washing that they had burnt a good part of a day. Eternian days were short; this one was almost over.

Both of them were quiet as the time passed. Edea was not used to such quiet from Ringabel. Immediately, she knew that was unfair to him. Ringabel, even in the early days of their friendship, and the early days of his amnesia, could be quiet at times. It was only around pretty women that his most outlandish words came out, and that meant he often wouldn't shut up around her or Agnes. But she'd seen him spend hours piloting an airship without a word, or reading through his journal silently when they had some down time. Now, she wondered what he thought.

Oh well, he was probably thinking dirty things, knowing him. With a stretch, she stood up. "Alright, I think it's been an hour. Let's see how you did," she told him as she left the blanket on the couch and went to their 'clothesline'. With one hand still securely holding the towel in place, the other tested her clothes. Hmm.

"Well? How did I do?" he asked, tilting his head at her as she continued to examine her clothes.

"They're dry," Edea replied, running her hands over her tunic again to be sure. They were all dry, and all warm besides. Smiling while her back was turned to him, she tested his clothing while she was standing, even as she let go of her towel to gather up her clothes in her free hand. "Yours are still wet, I'm afraid. Your underwear is dry, though."

"Is it?" Ringabel's voice was odd sounding. She turned to look at him, rolling her clothes up into a ball so that she could hold them close - she'd have to go back behind the screen to dress, and wanted that warmth against her in the chilly air!

"Yeah, they're pretty thin! Your undershirt is almost dry as well, and I think you can probably wear it… what's wrong?"

His eyes had widened midway through her sentence, and she could see the panic - and the blush - spreading on his face. "Edea, your - "

Realizing what was happening at the same time that he spoke, Edea scrambled to not drop her clothing but attempt to rescue the towel that was slipping from her chest now. Curse it! She didn't have a bosom very large, and there was very little actually keeping it up aside from the edge she had tucked under… and then jostled loose as she gathered her clothing against her torso.

Throwing her clothes onto Ringabel, she grabbed the edges of the towel just as they started to slip apart, catching them before they could do more than reveal some of her thighs, which eh, that wouldn't kill her. He'd seen more of her than that before - the Bravo Bikini was more revealing than a towel, after all. Not that she wanted to run around in either.

Rolling the edge up and tucking it back under, she breathed a sigh of relief. Then burst into laughter when she looked up at Ringabel. She had not been aiming when she'd tossed her clothes on him, and they had fallen all over his frozen form. Her tunic and leggings were strewn across his lap, her undershirt had fallen over his arm, her bandeau was on his chest, and her panties had, of course, fallen onto his shoulder. She would have been angry were it not for the deep, deep scarlet that his cheeks had turned, visible even through the white cotton.

"See?" she said, teasing him. "Dry."

Ringabel jolted out of his stupor and raised one shaking hand to pluck her underwear from his shoulder. He stared at them like they might bite him at any moment as he held them out to her, pinched tightly in two fingers. "I see that," he said, his voice breaking before he cleared his throat. Then he shook his head and gave her a familiar cocky grin. "Throwing your panties down because of me now? Look how far we've progressed!"

"You haven't taken me on that date yet!" Edea growled at him as she snatched her panties from his perverted fingers. Then, she gathered up the rest of her clothing, careful of the pieces that had fallen on his lap. The blanket was too bulky to tell if he'd been affected but then, she didn't really want to know. "It's your fault it slipped in the first place." Before he could question her on that admittedly questionable logic, she continued. "I'm going to get dressed," she said, and marched off behind the screen to the sound of his laughter.

Once fully dressed, she started cleaning up the rest of their mess. The water that had splashed on the floor now was fully dry, but the tub of water remained. She tried to drag it over to the sink to dump it into the cabin's basic plumbing, but even her strength was not enough.

"I'll help," Ringabel said, startling her. He came around the screen now, dressed in -

"Ringabel," she gasped, her face growing hot as she straightened up and stared at him, trying to keep her eyes on his face… or at least his shoulders or arms or…

"You said they were dry," he pointed out, but his own face was red.

"I did," she conceded, but she hadn't meant that he could wear them! Ringabel was now clad in only his underwear. It was a sight almost more offensive than just the towel he had been wearing previously, the black fabric clinging to his hips and his thighs and his…

She looked up into his face. There was a slight, if not uneasy, smile on his face.

"I'll take one edge of the tub and you take the other," he suggested, gesturing toward the tub. She turned toward it numbly, then looked back at him and nodded.

"Nudist," she mumbled as they both took a side of the tub.

"I'm wearing underwear," he complained. "You've seen me in less."

"W-wha? When?!" She nearly dropped her side of the tub at his comment, gaping at him. She was certain she would remember when he'd been dressed in less than… that! Seeing him, or Tiz, without their shirt was nothing new, but both men were careful about at least keeping their pants on!

Ringabel shifted his grip.. "The towel, remember?"

She scoffed at him. "That hardly counts. And besides, you were covered up more than… this." Had both of her hands not been preoccupied, she would have gestured at his nearly nude form. "Aren't you cold?" Glancing at his chest, she saw his nipples were as hard as her own had been earlier. Huh. So guys got stiff in the cold too. How about his…?

No. She would not think about that.

"I'm fine," he said, as he shivered.

Together the two of them hauled the tub to the sink, and tipped it over, watching the gray water go swirling down into the pipes. Eternian pipes were made to withstand the extreme temperatures of the region, but she hoped they hadn't leaked with the years. The idea of cleaning up the mess wasn't appealing.

Ringabel nudged the tub aside with a foot and stretched. "Well, now what do we do?"

He had been aware that bathing and cleaning was just another way to pass the time. He thought about going to the door to check the snow level, but given that he was just wearing his underthings, he wasn't sure that would be a very good idea. Besides, despite some thinking he bordered on exhibitionist, he wasn't very comfortable standing around in his underwear while alone with Edea. But, given that her towel could have very led to his death at her hands, for he knew she would kill him if he saw her nude, he hadn't wanted to stay in his own towel for much longer.

Shivering slightly in the cool, he considered ducking back into his blanket, but before he could get very far, he yelped - Edea's hand had touched his arm, startling him. Goosebumps rose, making the very light blonde hair of his arms stand out. She giggled at the sensation as she stroked his skin.

"What is it?" he asked, both curious and embarrassed.

"It feels soft," she explained. "It's so light, you can't usually tell it's there." Looking up at his face, for which he was extremely grateful, her other hand reached up to stroke his cheek. At this, he closed one eye, grimacing slightly as her fingers brushed over his stubble and the ends of his hair.

"I'm awful looking," he complained, even as she continued to play with the ends of his hair. He tried to shave every day, wore makeup to cover his darkest undereye circles, and thus felt exposed to be so unkempt in her company. And his hair! Gone was his perfectly styled pompadour. Now his locks were limp, and they curled slightly at the ends, long enough to brush his shoulder. He was certain he looked terribly plain and not the sort of man she'd be even remotely interested in.

"I like your hair when it's down," she said, startling him. Her fingers slipped back to the hair at the nape of his neck, and he leaned forward - only to give her a better reach, he told himself. She continued to pet him as though he were a housecat, ruffling his hair. Smiling slightly, he let her play with his hair - she always liked to play with Agnes' - and closed his eyes as now she added her nails to his scalp. That felt good, in a very pleasant and warming way. Continuing to lean forward, he closed the distance between them, pressing his forehead to her shoulder.

Edea was tugging his hair into demented pigtails; he was very thankful that they didn't have any rubber bands on hand, as she had in the past when they were children. "Why don't you wear it down more often?" she asked.

"I have to keep up appearances," he murmured, wincing as she pulled a tuft of hair a tad too harshly. "What good am I if I don't have my looks?" Sure, he was a Dark Knight as well. He was skilled with a sword, good at tactics, a fantastic pilot, and a seducer of women the world over. He needed his looks for that last one, and it certainly didn't hurt his other skills. Besides, they had been all he had when he'd woken in Caldisla as an empty shell, aside from his journal. They had served him well.

"You're plenty good without your looks," she assured him, and now he thought she might be braiding his hair. "You're a good pilot, and you're strong, and you're not so bad when you don't prattle on like a fool."

"Women like my foolish prattling," he complained, turning his cheek into her shoulder so that he could give her a pout. "They think it's cute."

"Well, it has its uses, but I think that I like you more when you use your brain, Ringabel. It's there for a reason, and you and I both know it's not as empty anymore as you pretend it is." She glared at him, a bit annoyed, and tugged his hair.

Ringabel stared at her. "You… what?"

Edea seemed to realize that she had said and flushed now, stepping back and pushing him away in the same motion. He straightened, his back thankful for the action, and looked down at her, bewildered. He truly wished he wore more than a pair of hastily washed underwear in this moment, but didn't dare glance toward where his clothes were drying by the fire.

"You're more useful when you think, that's all," she said, and looked as though she would continue, except… now she had turned back to the stove to light it for dinner. "Ringabel, go sit down and get under something before you catch cold."

He hesitated.

Ringabel knew he should leave her to the stove and go back toward the warm blankets to wait for his pants to dry. He was certain his undershirt was finished by now. That at least would give him additional protection against the chill in the air at the edges of the cabin. But at the same time, Edea had given him more warmth in these past few moments than any number of layers could ever do. He bit his lip, then pushed his luck.

Placing a hand on her arm, he waited until she looked up at him before he spoke. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes not quite meeting his. "You keep me warm," he said. "So long as I am by your side, Edea, I will never be cold."

"That'd be more convincing if you weren't shivering," she said, but her eyes softened. "Just go."

"Will you join me? I'll be warmer with the two of us," he insisted. "You know the basics of hypothermia prevention as well as I do. Body heat is the best."

"You're not getting hypothermia," she argued, but when he gave her a pleading look, she acquiesced, turning the stove down low and setting the wooden spoon aside. "Alright, you pervert. Just until your pants dry," she said as she pushed him to the couch. He laughed at the initial shove, but he quickly choked when her hand pushed against the tender spots in his rib cage.

"Why is your skin so nice? It looks almost as good as mine." Edea grumbled once the two of them were under the blankets again. Ringabel found that in his absence, they had grown cold, and so he was huddled close to Edea even as he squirmed his undershirt back on. That was nice and toasty, at least.

"What do you mean?" he asked once his shirt was fully on again. Edea at this point leaned against his shoulder. He felt much better to be more clothed, though he wasn't sure he would ever back get to the point that he had as Alternis, feeling naked without his armor!

"I always thought you would be… I don't know, battle scarred. Covered with them, like Father, or even Master. Or Heinkel and Barras. Maybe even Barbarossa, with a peg leg."

Oh. That had never even occurred to him, though it ought to have. He lifted an arm to examine it, running his fingers against the smooth skin of his inner forearm. Neither his arms nor his legs showed the silvery-beige marks of old scars, though here and there were the faded red stripes that spoke of newer wounds that would never fully heal over. Those he had acquired on his journey with his friends, and those were not as bad as they could have been with White Magic at their disposal.

"It was the magma of Mount Karka," he said, remembering. His memories were like memories of an old play, as though he were separated from them. Even now, he remembered bits and pieces at odd times; he doubted he would ever be as whole as he had been once, those days before approaching the Holy Pillar in the world of his birth. "When I fell in the magma, I didn't die. My armor kept me alive, but at the same time, I was burned all over. I'm not sure how I survived, honestly." The pain had been horrendous, made even worse by the torture that Qada had put him through. Honestly, he was very glad that his memories of that time were still faded, but he wasn't sure how he'd survived to get Qada in the first place.

"Oh," the girl said, staring at her hands before she looked back up at him, her blue eyes earnest. "Ringabel, you don't - "

"It's alright," he assured her. "The pain is in the past. In any case, I had to regrow new skin in my weeks in the White Magic chamber. It stands to reason that this new skin wouldn't have any scars on it. And isn't that a good thing?"

"Why?"

"It means I am just that more handsome, of course!"

She smacked him. "Don't joke about that sort of thing, Ringabel. Nobody wanted you to be in such pain. Not Father, not myself, not anyone."

Qada and Victor probably didn't mind, he added quietly to himself, but he smiled warmly at her instead. "I know. And it is because of you that I was able to hold on during that time." Thinking of those that he wanted to protect, that he wanted to save had been his lifeline when all he'd wanted to do was close his eyes and let the pain fade away forever. That, and spite and the need for revenge on his enemies. Whatever had worked in the moment.

She was leaning against his side now, wonderfully warm. He shifted so that he could drag one of his pale legs up on the couch and turn toward her, draping an arm casually over her shoulder. Casually. "Because of the Edea in your world, you mean," she said softly, so quietly he almost didn't hear her at first.

But when he did, his stomach dropped. Yes, she was not wrong. The Edea of his world, that bright light in his dim life, the light that had been snuffed out so cruelly, she had been the light that kept him going. Even now, he did not wish to dwell on her terrible last moments. He did not want to think about how horribly he failed at her. With a sigh, Ringabel squeezed Edea. "She was who I thought of, yes," he admitted. "I worried for her. I wanted to fly to her side and convince her to see reason."

With a start, he realized the pitch of his voice was lowering, and he quickly raised it, forcing the usual inflection of his words through. "If I had known you at the time, I would have thought of you, of course! To fight at your side and see that beautiful smile of yours."

She pulled away from him and he could barely pout before she had turned toward him with a glare. "You are incorrigible," she told him, her chin high. "You can't love both of us."

Any pout he'd had faded. Any smile he might have flashed her died. And the feeling of happiness in his chest at having her close was dimming. "Do you truly think that?" he asked her, frowning.

Even Alternis would not plan for such a heartfelt conversation in these circumstances, he thought as Edea pressed her hands to his bare chest, almost as if to shove him. He had better timing sense than this.

Edea shook her head, looking down. "How can you claim to have feelings for me when you had her?"

He lifted his hands to wrap around her wrists, holding them gently. "Because I do." When she looked up at his face, their eyes met.

When he had known nothing else, not his name, not his age, not even his own origin, he had known that simple fact. He loved her. And while his initial infatuation may have been due to a woman he would never in his life see alive again, his heart had remembered what his mind had not, and had forged a new love.

"Edea," he said gently when she looked away. "Do you think your father loves you any less because he also loves Alternis?" The words were shock to him as he spoke - Braev did love Alternis as a son, even if he had never noticed before. Braev had been terrible at showing affection to Alternis, but Ringabel had realized on this journey that the man he had once idolized was also terrible at showing affection to his daughter.

"Of course not," Edea replied, looking at him as though he were crazy. "But he's a father; I think he's legally required to love all of his children equally, even terrible ones like Victoria."

His mother hadn't loved him, he thought before harshly squashing the thought down; this wasn't the time for that. She wasn't getting it, so he tried another angle. "Alright then, do you think that because I love Agnes - as a friend - that I can't love Tiz - AS A FRIEND - either? Love is not a finite source, dearest, and it exists in so many ways. I… I love you, too!" he practically shouted.

His cheeks were heating up, scorching even in the heat of the fire. If he had to confess his love, what better place than beside a fire, in a little cabin off in the woods, where they could not be interrupted? … if only he were wearing actual clothing, he would have liked that. He held his breath as he waited for her to respond. If he were lucky, she would throw herself on him with a cry of happiness, and then he would twirl around and the sheer joy would melt the snow outside, and then they could live happily ever after.

"As a friend?" Edea asked, and he almost despaired that she still wasn't getting it when he saw the little smile on her face, half-hidden behind her hair.

"Edea," he whined, trying not to sound too unmanly. He was fidgeting with stress now. "You know that isn't true!"

She gave him an even look. "I know," was all she said, before she looked away, her eyes distant as she thought.

Alternis levels of impatience were building in him. He bit his lip. She never liked people who were demanding, and she liked her space, and she wouldn't like him to be clingy, but he wanted to beg her to reply. Before he could die of anxiety, she spoke, staring off into the fire.

"You know, Ringabel, being stuck with you these past few days in this cabin has been a new experience," she said diplomatically.

What did that mean? He tilted his head at her. "It… has been, hasn't it?" Normally when they traveled, even if they were sharing a room in a small country inn, they shared with Agnes, Tiz, and Airy. Never before had they had they been alone in such a small space, and given that they were snowed in, each other's presence had been all they'd had. Dread suddenly gripped him. Had she hated it the entire time?

"Yes," she replied, then noticed how pale he'd gotten. "Oh, don't look like that. I'm just saying that… it was nice."

"Oh." He could breathe easy then, except she still hadn't acknowledged his heartfelt confession of love. Perhaps she truly thought he held only platonic feelings for her, as he did for Tiz and Agnes?

Edea turned to him. "You need to work on your timing," she reprimanded him. He leaned back from her accusatory finger, feeling his heart drop. "You have to give someone a way out of your confession! Don't say such things when we're locked away in a cabin and neither of us can leave."

"Oh, right," he said, as though it hadn't occurred to him. Because it hadn't. He didn't think about his feelings, and had enjoyed being so near her that he'd forgotten that they might need space. As it was, he wanted to crawl into bed and hide away from the world in his embarrassment. At least they weren't on an airship thousands of feet in the air.

She grumbled, her cheeks red and mumbled to herself, "'Oh right', he says. What use is that brain of his sometimes? Honestly!"

He pouted at her. "I can hear you." Now he really wanted to go crawl into the bed and hide. She didn't have to rub it in!

Edea looked at him sharply, then softened. "That's mean of me. I'm sorry. But Ringabel, why can't you tell me these things in a normal place?"

A… normal place? What was that? "I thought - there's no one around, and…"

"There's no one around," she repeated. "And… we've been alone for the past couple of days, sleeping in the same bed, and I've now seen more of you than I would ever like to. Tell me again when we're out."

"It won't change my feelings," he pointed out, feeling a bit put out. If this was a rejection, he wanted to get it over and done with!

"I know," she replied "But I'll feel better replying to you when we're not alone."

Feel better? He stared at her. "What's wrong?"

Edea didn't answer him at first. Instead, she looked over into the fire. After a moment, she stood and tested his pants and jacket. It was only then that she replied, her fingers running over the thick fur on his collar. "We're alone. Who knows what could happen?"

Was… that it? Ringabel stared at her, then stood and came up to her side. He reached out to touch his clothes as well, cover her hand with his own. The fur was dried, and so was the leather, but he doubted the lining was. They probably shouldn't have washed it to begin with. "Nothing has to happen. Nothing has to change," he assured her. "My feelings will stay the same."

She leaned her head back against his bare shoulder and her hair tickled his arm. "Aren't mine important, too?"

"Of course!" he replied. Her feelings were most important! When he opened his mouth to tell her this, and to insist that all would be fine, he cut himself off with a croak - Edea had turned around and wrapped her arms around him.

"So tell me again when we're out of here," the girl whispered. "But not in public, or in the middle of a fight, or when I'm eating…"

"Alright," he agreed, carefully placing his hands on her shoulders. He could do that. She clearly was uncomfortable thinking about feelings when there was nothing else to distract her, but she hadn't rejected him. He would take that for what it was worth. "I will."

Because his pants and jacket were still slightly damp, though warm, they left the fire alone so that they could finish tidying up before eating. They had left their food on the stove to stay warm, and so they only needed to turn up the heat of the fire and add more water to replace what had cooked off. Already, the short Eternian day was passing them by, but he found he didn't mind.

While he was in the kitchen, Edea went to the back door to open it, revealing snow that was at her chin height. Despite his proximity to the heat of the stove, he still shivered at the cool air that drifted over him.

"Another day and I think we'll be able to dig ourselves out," he commented. They didn't have many tools in the cabin, but they could make do or get creative with their weapons. If the snow got down to his waist, he thought they'd be fine - Edea could stay in the path he made. Too high against his chest would make it far too easy for his torso to be chilled, which could be dangerous.

"Do you think we'll survive? Or will we kill each other with cabin fever?" she asked as she shut the door and latched it.

Ringabel laughed as he added some more meat into the stew. Most of the earlier pieces had been eaten already, and he was peckish from his small breakfast. "If we haven't yet, I'm sure we'll be fine for another day. Just be gentle with me."

After dinner, where even Edea ate only one bowl of the lentil stew, Ringabel returned to his clothes and lifted them off the clothesline. "I'll leave them on the table," he explained, shaking out his jacket and turning it inside out. The lining was almost dry, but freezing, and he didn't look forward to putting it back on. His pants were dry by now, but given how they would be going to bed shortly, and it was too warm in the bed with his pants on, he was hesitant to put them on if he was just going to have to take them back off.

He could just huddle under his blanket instead, he decided as he laid his clothing out on the table. With the chair back where it belonged, there was nothing standing between the fire and the couch.

Edea was already lounging on the couch. He joined her, wrapping himself up in a blanket before hesitating for a moment. Would she accept if he offered a part of it to her…? Taking the chance, he lifted one edge of the blanket to her. "Do you want under?" he asked, smiling. Even if he was in his underthings, at least it would be warm.

She eyed him for a moment before nodding and slipping under the edge of the blanket that he offered her.

"You're warm," she said, snuggling into his side. Her arm snaked around his waist. After another moment's hesitation, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder in return.

"Of course I am. It is my passionate heart and the love I have for you that keeps me burning bright!" She hadn't rejected him, hadn't said no. His heart felt lighter for it, and the words came easily.

Edea laughed. "How do you come up with these things? Just… how? I have to admire it."

"It comes naturally," he boasted, flipping his hand. "Just like the sun shines down its beautiful light to warm our hearts, so too do I warm the hearts of women worldwide."

She squeezed his waist. "All women?"

He quickly knew what she meant, and felt a bit chastened. "All women are deserving of praise and a kind word, from the smallest girl to the oldest lady," he said evenly. "Fear not, dearest Edea. Though my words may be for others, my heart is yours alone."

"Hmm," was all she said as she laid her head against his shoulder. "You're not going to ask me to marry you, are you?"

"Do you want me to?" he asked instead of answering her.

Edea shuddered. "Please don't ask me that. I'm far too young to think about things like marriage and settling down… children and homemaking! I've too much to do for Eternia first."

"Point taken," he said, because he knew he would be at her side. As the Dark Knight of Eternia, and hopefully… well, he'd think about it later. For now, he wanted to focus on the feeling of Edea in his arms. As the night grew cold and the cabin more chilly, it made the fire all that more comforting. Turning slightly, he managed to wrap both of his arms around her and hold her tight. The girl squirmed only slightly as she found a comfortable resting place against him, and then she stilled.

His eyelids felt heavy… he was so in the habit of taking naps that his body protested being awake in the afternoon. Boredom also dug at him. Now that the excitement of bathing and drying clothing was over, there was nothing else to do. His journal seemed boring to him for once. Staring at the ceiling and counting the knots in the word seemed terribly tedious (he'd lost count at fifty three the previous day). As much as he didn't like going to bed so early, he also knew that the sooner they slept, the sooner they woke up. As a child, he had once thought he was some sort of time traveler, when he'd gone to sleep in the family library and woken up tucked in his bed the next morning. Now, he knew the fastest and easiest way to bring the new day was to just sleep. And it sounded wonderful. He kept that thought in his mind as time went by.

"I'm going to bed," he murmured into Edea's hair once the light outside had faded completely. The girl shifted, making a noise not unlike that of a very comfortable cat.

"Mm, already?" she asked, rubbing her face. "It's evening, Ringabel."

"Well, a nap at least," he decided. If he woke up in the night, which he probably would, he could drink some coffee and have some time to himself. They hadn't had any privacy in this place, and he would like some time alone. She needed it too. "You stay here and stay warm," he told her, punctuating his words with a kiss to the top of her head.

If she noticed, she said nothing. "It'll be warmer with you," Edea said after a moment, leaning back and stretching with a loud noise. "I'll take a nap as well. The bed?"

He quietly despaired before shoving that aside. While he would never turn down an opportunity to spend time with her, the thought of some time alone, with Edea asleep, had been a nice thought while he'd had it. Well, he slept less than she did. If he was lucky, she would sleep through the night without him. "Very well," he nodded, and he took the blanket with him as they relocated to the bed.

Though it was dark outside with the sun gone, they used only the light of the fire to guide them, rather than use a lamp. Ringabel spread the blanket out over the bed as Edea undressed, stripping down to her bandeau and leggings.

"It gets too warm in there," she reminded him as he stared at her, then looked away, flushing. "Keep your hands to yourself, but I'd rather not sweat through my clean clothes."

"You're right," he said, chastising himself for the desire that had spiked in him at the sight of her bare skin. They were sharing a bed for survival to begin with, and nothing more. He tried to remind himself of that again as they both slid under blankets that were still warm from their time on the couch.

Rolling over to his side to face away from her, he closed his eyes and tried to relax. Behind him, he could feel Edea rolling around until she too, was comfortable. He smiled when she murmured a good night to him, and gave his own just as quiet reply.

And then he slept.

Or at least he tried to. The arousal that had sparked in him at the sight of Edea's bare shoulders and arms wasn't abating. It was the opposite, in fact, his dick hardening in his drawers as he listened to the sound of the woman's breathing. This was why he desperately needed some time alone. Shifting uncomfortably, he crossed his arms in front of him, then let one of his hands wander down until he could touch himself through the cotton fabric. He prayed Edea wouldn't notice the covers moving.

When he ghosted his fingers along his clothed shaft, he had to bit his lip to keep from gasping. It felt good, wonderfully so, and he knew most of that pleasure was simply because he had neglected himself for some days now. After yesterday's disastrous incident, his body was owed some relief.

But even he had morals, as desperate as he felt right now. Edea was just inches away, under the same blanket, and - he couldn't do this with her so close. He needed to either stop or go to the bathroom.

… bathroom it was.

Quietly, so as to not disturb her, Ringabel shifted under the blankets once more - than yelped as Edea's arm wrapped around him from behind.

"E-Edea?!" he gasped, feeling a chill followed quickly by a rush of heat run through his entire body. "What are you doing?" His voice was squeaking as he squirmed. Edea latched onto him tighter, growling out her disapproval that he was so wiggly. He was sure that his blood pressure was rising in conjunction with something else.

"It'll be too hot later," the woman complained. "But I'm cold now. Stay still, Ringabel. You're the right level of warm."

His pulse was hammering so hard that he wondered if she could feel it. Surely she could feel the heat that was spreading down his neck - well, she had said that he was warm, after all. Trying not to whine as Edea pressed to his back, her cheek nudging his shoulder, he tried to calm himself down. The pounding of his heart as it was wasn't helping the situation in his drawers. Neither was the feeling of the woman's breasts squeezing against him; he shifted slightly onto his belly.

It should have been a laughable situation. She was so much smaller than he that he imagined to an onlooker, it would have seen bizarre to say the least. Edea was not a very effective big spoon, her legs fitting awkwardly against his own, and her arms just a little too short to fit all the way around his torso. He tried not to whine as she noticed and practically crawled up on his form so their heads could be level, her knees hitting the back of his thighs.

"Wouldn't… this work better the other way around?" he gasped as, when she grasped his shirt for better leverage, her nails scratched his chest through the thin fabric. No, wait! What was he thinking, suggesting cradling her when his cock was stiffening at the sensation of her body against his?! Traitorous thing, it clearly had something out for him!

"Yeah right," she muttered into his ear. "Tomorrow morning, I'll just have to deal with you know what again."

"Noooo," he wailed under his breath. It was true; she would have to deal with it much sooner if he spooned her. Then he yelped again, because she put her elbow right on his hair.

"Whatever you say," she replied flippantly as she lifted a hand up to pull her own hair away from her neck. "No offense Ringabel. It's just… you know."

"None taken," he murmured as he contemplated rolling over onto his stomach. Surely that would be safest. But before he could, Edea's arm had once again latched around his stomach and the girl was getting a grip.

And if there was anything he knew about Edea, it was that she had a strong one.

"Mmm, better," she said as she wiggled against his back. He sighed. She was soft and warm against his back, the same way she had felt that very morning. And now, just like then, he wanted to hold her closer, if it weren't for a certain part of him that would get between them.

Edea hummed as she settled down for sleep. "Alright, you go to sleep now," she decided, nodding against his hair. He lifted his hands to touch her arm.

He would have liked to, truly, except even when he closed his eyes and attempted to will himself to bed, his body ached with need. His manhood was positively pulsing with Edea's form so close by, and it was more than a little distracting, despite how often he thought about Qada parading around in a bikini. After several long, long moments of lying there in agony, he squirmed.

"I need to use the… the powder room," he whispered. Was Edea even awake?

Judging by the annoyed huff against his hair… yes. "Why didn't you go before we got in bed?" she grumbled. "I'm already warm. Just… go to bed. You can go later."

He wanted to whine. And so he did, squirming even more. "Edeaaaa, I really need to go."

Instead of freeing him, she slung a leg over his hip. He whimpered and resisted the urge to roll over to press his hips against the mattress. She was dangerously close to his hardness. "You'll just make it all cold," she complained as she started wiggling. "And then we'll have to get comfy again, and…! Oh!"

Edea, in her wiggling and annoyance, meant to slap his leg. She had missed, as he had started to roll back to complain and push at her. Her palm had smacked against the side of his hardness instead. Ringabel gasped at the sensation, a confusing combination of pain and pleasure coursing through him. He bit his lip.

There was deafening silence for a moment.

"That wasn't your leg, was it?" Edea asked.

"No," Ringabel managed to croak, feeling his pulse hammer in his chest. She was going to kill him, even if she had not taken her sword to bed. He was certain she could summon it to her side using the sheer force of her will.

Edea shoved his shoulder and started the process of untangling their limbs. "You're a pervert!"

"I am not," he insisted, wanting to crawl into the cellar and die. Actually, spending the night there sounded splendid; he would be too cold to get hard even if he survived the night. He managed to get his feet out of the blankets. "It just does this on its own."

"You're not asleep," she pointed out. "It's in your control. Pervert."

He stopped wriggling out from under the thick bedcovers, confusion overtaking mortification for a moment. "No," he replied, when he thought he could. The urge to defend himself was stronger than self-preservation. "Even when I wake up, it just - it has a mind of its own, truly! Do you honestly think I would choose to be like… this when I'm lying next to you?" He gestured his hand downward, vaguely in the direction of the object in question. He had morals! And fear. He had been terrified of Edea finding out about it - like she just had - and deciding to do something awful to that very sensitive part of him. He liked his penis, and wanted to keep it intact for his future children.

"Yes," she replied without hesitation as she finally slid over to the other side, propping herself up on an elbow. Now that they were separated, he could sit up on the edge of the bed and look at her. "Why not?"

"Why… not?" he echoed. His ears and cheeks were both burning. He needed to throw himself out the back door to cool off. "It hurts, for one. Even when you don't hit it."

Her expression shifted ever so slightly. "You deserved it. But hurts?"

"Not - not like a wound, or when I'm using my asterisk," he clarified, watching her eyebrows snap together when he mentioned the Dark Knight Asterisk. Something told him that they would be having a conversation about that little confession later. "It just… "

"Hurts."

"Listen, Edea," he pleaded. "Please, allow me to use the restroom. By the time I return, it won't matter anymore. We'll sleep."

"Oh, that's why you wanted to go. To do what guys do in their alone time." Despite her flippant words, she ducked her head down to her chest as red bloomed across her face.

"How do you know about that?" he demanded, heat rising in his cheeks. Who had told his Angel about what men did with their manhoods when alone?! He would find them, and he would make them pay.

Edea lifted her head just so she could roll her eyes at him. "It's not some state secret, Ringabel. Everyone knows about it. Well… if it hurts, hurry up. You're getting cold air in the bed."

"I…" He was still hard, despite exposure to the cold air, and if he took care of himself now, it may even help him sleep. "Fine," he decided. Since she had given him permission. Given him permission, like he needed it!

He hurried away across the room to the restroom door, both because it was cold, but also because he was aware that her eyes were on him and on the bulge in the front of his drawers, highly visible even in the dim light now that their eyes had adjusted and the fabric covering it was so thin.

As soon as the door was closed firmly behind him, he leaned against the cool wood and wasted no time in shoving the waistband of his drawers down his hips only enough so that his half-hard erection eagerly sprung out.

"Traitor," Ringabel muttered to it even as he took himself firmly in hand. At least they had both survived this ordeal, he thought. He had been worried they would be parted for good for a moment there. With quick, light strokes, he built himself up to full hardness, biting his lip as pleasure began to coil in him. Heat was building in his core, along with his cheeks, as he recalled that Edea was just on the other side of the old wood, and would hear him if he was too loud. Edea…

He closed his eyes and remembered the feeling of her soft breasts against his back; he squeezed his cock at the memory. She was so petite, but had still felt good, and he thought he'd felt her nipples through the fabric of her bandeau, stiff from the cold perhaps? As his hand increased in pace, his mind wandered back to what he'd heard when he had been washing her clothes. He had almost missed it; Edea moaning while in the bath. What had she truly been doing? Now, like then, he immediately imagined her touching herself, her fingers sliding over that creamy skin he ached to touch. His breath quickened at the image in his mind, his tongue ghosting over dried lips as he sped up his strokes. The touch around his cock was dry, but hot, and there was just the right amount of friction to add to his pleasure, not take away from it.

But then, he was suspecting he didn't mind the pain at all. When Edea had slapped his cock, he'd felt a burst of heat and pleasure in his shaft, along with the pain. He hadn't minded it. He almost wanted to feel it again. Almost, because his cock was aching for release now, and he twisted his wrist, tightened his grip as he continued to jerk himself. It was fine now; precome oozing from the top and helping to lubricate his pumping motions. He hadn't touched himself in days. He needed this.

He managed to swallow back the moan that burst from deep in his chest, holding his breath as he finally hit his climax, leaning back against the door for stability. His come shot out of him in spurts, hastily caught in his free hand as he milked himself of his release. That was more like it, he thought as he felt a familiar, comforting haze spread through him, warming him despite the chill in the air. The post orgasmic feeling would make it easier to sleep now.

He used a damp wash cloth to clean both his spent dick and his hands, then tucked himself back into his drawers before washing his hands more thoroughly. Only once he was sure he was clean and no trace remained that he would take back to bed, he slipped out of the tiny room. Edea was an unmoving lump on the bed just a few steps away, her blonde hair strewn across …

She'd stolen all the blankets, including the one they used as a pillow. Only the tiniest sliver of edge was available for him.

Despite himself he smiled as he crossed the distance to the bed. Tugging the covers up only enough to get underneath, he attempted to crawl back in, tugging at the edge to cover himself.

"I hope you washed your hands," Edea murmured, though she didn't roll over to face him.

"Of course I did," he insisted, flushing. He hadn't expected her to be awake… and did not expect her to move back over into his space, the girl rolling to sling an arm around his waist and draping the blankets over him along with her arm.

"Good," she replied, her eyes still closed. "Now gimme that cookie there…"

"What cookie?"

"There," Edea insisted, frowning in her half-sleeping state. "I want that one. It's chocolate chip."

She was adorable, he thought fondly to himself. Hoping she wouldn't open her eyes to the silly grin on his face - and banishing all dirty thoughts from his mind - he gave her the edge of a blanket to chew on. Snuggling into his shoulder, she chewed noisily even as she dropped into heavier sleep. Ringabel wrapped a cautious arm around her as he held her close, feeling her form shift against his. His earlier contentment was still present, and he felt himself dropping off quickly, surrounded by warmth.

---

Things are getting a bit heated. Get it? Heated?!

Thank you for those who have left comments. :) This chapter is perhaps a biiiiit heavy for its rating, and the next chapter is going to be even more so, so I'm likely going to switch to an M rating. If you want updates, be sure to follow it!