The winters had always been hard for their little family, as far back as Hazel could remember.
Somehow, this one felt harder than others had.
He and Gretchen were just barely beginning to scrape the age of 15, only a few months away from crossing over that gap. Gretchen had continued to develop into something powerful, always under their father's guidance.
Hazel was left feeling that there was some secret that he was being kept from, some forbidden knowledge that he was never to hear.
There was a distance that had formed between him and the rest of his family. He wasn't going to pretend as though it wasn't there.
If he'd known what there was that he could do to ease the distance, he would have done it. He didn't like being alone, not in the way that he felt like he'd been left. He liked quiet and having his space— he didn't like feeling like he was increasingly more and more on the outs.
Their father was out with Gretchen, the two of them going through the process of another training session while Hazel loaded their fireplace with dried wood that he'd helped their father cut earlier that evening. When they came in, they were going to want to start on dinner. Hazel was fairly certain that they still had some dried venison tucked away somewhere.
Everything else was running thin, though.
It wasn't only affecting their tiny family, it was hitting the village as well.
There just wasn't enough food to go around. The herds of deer in the area were all but gone, the ground was too cold and hard to be able to grow anything. What had been stored for the winter had dried up faster than it should have due to winter coming quicker than it usually would.
Hazel was quickly learning to minimize himself for the sake of his family. Most nights, he went to bed with hunger clawing at his stomach. He had reason to suspect that his and Gretchen's father was doing the same thing, but never said a word. The same way that Hazel never said a word.
Gretchen was aware of it, Hazel was sure of it. She'd been woken by the growling of his stomach more than once.
Hazel couldn't admit that he was hungry, not as long as it would leave Gretchen worrying.
But the fire was hot, and Hazel was good at maintaining it. He could cook when they had the food for it. He had his use, even if he wouldn't be much use should their little cabin come under attack by grimm.
If that happened though, Hazel reminded himself, Gretchen was more than capable of protecting all of them.
He didn't know how it was possible, but it was. She was stronger, stronger than Hazel had even heard of.
The door opened and Hazel looked back over his shoulder.
Gretchen approached him with her cheeks flushed red. There was melting snow in her dark hair and she was smiling wide because her training was turning into such a success.
"Hey, Hazel." She said as she pressed in close to the fire at his side. She held her hands up to it and crouched down next to the fire place as she tried to warm up. "Thanks."
"How was training?" Hazel asked, wanting to press on and find out what the secret that was being kept from him was. Maybe if it was just the two of them, she would have gone on and told him. But with their father about to enter the room, she wouldn't share. She never would.
Gretchen shrugged. "Cold." She said. "Dad thought that he heard something out in the forest and wanted to check it out."
That was alarming. "Really?" He asked. "Should we be—"
"Nah." Gretchen said. "He was pretty sure that it was a deer. If it was, he'll probably want you to come and help bring it back."
"Right."
Gretchen eyed him sadly. "What's wrong, Hazel?"
He sighed heavily. "Just tired, I guess." He was hungry and tired. He was tired because he was hungry. He was tired because he missed his family and because he felt so lonely.
Gretchen set her hand on his shoulder. "You need to go to bed?"
"Later." Hazel mumbled as he pushed himself up to his feet once more. "In case dad needs me."
Gretchen watched him and stood up, walking to his side. "You can at least be comfortable, right?" She put herself right in his space, in a way that she always had going back their entire lives. "That won't hurt."
She was right. Hazel sighed and walked with her over to their family couch where he sat down in the corner, right before Gretchen seated herself at his side and leaned back against him. Her clothes were still damp because she hadn't bothered to change into something that was dry just yet. A couple of minutes by the fire and she'd probably be fine, Hazel knew.
Gretchen smiled softly. "You know that you can join us sometime."
"Maybe." Hazel mumbled back to her. Gretchen's invitation wasn't completely empty, but Hazel wasn't sure that he'd actually be able to join his sister as she made herself stronger. It was odd, how something that he'd witnessed in its full force was also something that was being hidden away from him.
She nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. "Maybe we can come up with something to do later." She suggested, completely oblivious to the uncomfortable churning down in Hazel's stomach. "Maybe a board game?"
Hazel rolled his eyes. "You don't even like board games."
"I like you though." Gretchen rebutted. "You're my brother."
"Gretchen—"
"You've just been mopey lately, I don't know!" She said. "I mean, you're always kind of mopey, but you're more mopey than usual."
If Hazel had had some sort of answer for her, he would have given it. He liked being honest with Gretchen, because on most days she felt like a part of him and being apart for too long made him just feel empty. He'd been with her since before they were born, how could he be anything but honest with her?
But he wasn't good with words.
He never had been.
So he only shrugged. "I'll be okay." He promised. "Things are just… weird right now."
Her face fell. "Because of dad?"
"No." Hazel mumbled. Because of you.
"Well, why?" Gretchen prodded him on. "There's clearly some reason."
Hazel swallowed. "I just feel like there's… something that you and dad have, and I'm not a part of it."
She leaned back in her seat, understanding coming over her all at once even though Hazel hadn't quite had the words for what he'd needed to say. "You mean him training me." She mumbled. "Come on, you shouldn't be jealous. You don't even like fighting."
"I just miss you." Hazel cut his sister off. "That's all."
"But Hazel—" Gretchen sighed quietly, and for just a second Hazel thought that she looked so much older than she really was. "I'm right here. I haven't gone anywhere."
He swallowed. "Then what are you and dad hiding from me?"
Her face went pale. Her eyes flickered away from him, her jaw snapping shut with an audible click. "I can't tell you." She said after a moment. "It's important that it's a secret."
"I'm your brother." Hazel growled back at her. "Since when do we hide things from each other?"
"I don't like it either!" Gretchen cried back at him, seeming just as agitated as he felt in that moment. "Come on, do you think that I want this? I didn't ask to have to be hiding things from you!" She looked away from him. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you anyways."
His heart dropped in his chest. "So that's how it'll be then?" He asked. "You keep your secret."
"Yeah." Gretchen wrapped her arms around herself, hugging herself in a way that Hazel knew all too well. "I guess so." There was a long pause, one that hanged over the two of them and made the entire room feel cold. "I'm sorry." She whispered, just loud enough that Hazel could hear it. "I wish I could tell you."
She was telling the truth. He knew that she was telling the truth because he knew that Gretchen always wrinkled her nose when she lied. She always had, even back when they were little kids.
But he was still hurt.
"I understand." He mumbled back to his sister. "I just hope that one day you'll be able to say."
"One day." She echoed quietly. "Just… not now." Her nose wrinkled. "But one day."
Hazel's heart dropped into his stomach, so far that he was sure it would never recover.
