A soft scratching on Kal's door stirred him from sleep with a groan. Glancing at the clock on the mantel he cursed under his breath. It was the small hours of the morning, and he'd rested only an hour or two. He'd been sleeping fitfully for days now, ever since he'd overheard his mother and father planning the sleeping arrangements for Viviane's family.
It had been nearly a decade since her family had chosen to come to the Hall of Crystals, years since they'd been relocated to the border . Kal didn't know whether to feel excited or terrified that they were returning now.
Kal swung his legs over the side of the bed, into a pair of thick, rabbit fur slippers and stumbled to the door, rubbing his eyes. He opened it a small crack before a tiny snow fox darted in. Kal gawked at the thing, sizing it up, as it laid a neatly folded and sealed note at his feet. Notes by fox were common in war camps, less common in palaces where crystalline lower fae would melt through the icy walls to whisper their secrets.
Kal scratched the ears of the fox, and picked up the note, and reading by the dimmed light of the last faelight in his room, he broke the silvery seal, running his thumb over the jagged broken V. Kal sighed, and unfolded the note. "Hey, Frosty. Meet me in the globe, one hour."
It took a few times reading over the words before he fully understood what she was wanted. In the Eastern wing of the palace, there was a small staircase that led up to the roof, to a nest where archers had once notched and flown arrows during the war. While the north had not known many battles, forces had tried and failed in the earliest years to take the Crystal palace, and the soldiers of the tundra had paid dearly to hold their home. After the treaty his mother had needed something beautiful, needed to claim their home again when the snow still settled pink, remembering the blood it had absorbed.
To oblige his mother, the High Lord had enchanted a dome over that nest, to be nearly impenetrable. To hide the secrets of the family, to allow them to gaze at the night sky and at the auroras that danced through the the 200 years since Prythian had last seen war, it had become the safe haven of his family's, a secret spot to most, but it had been the place where he had laid on deep, velvetine couches with Viv to point out the constellations, and tell their stories. When they found stars they didn't know, she had always spun silken tales, of lovers crystalline tears being preserved in the glassy night sky. Kal had listened, and he had been happy. The globe had been the place where his powers had first manifested when he beckoned a snowflake years ago, it was where his father had given him his first sword, aptly named Miskunn, mercy in the forgotten language. Kal had a privilege his father had not, he had the chance to be merciful with his sword, as his father had prayed he would.
The globe was a staple of his childhood, but recently his family had left it dormant. The Hall of Crystals was finally home again, it finally felt safe. The north had known peace for some time. Kal was grateful for the peace, basked in it. He wasn't ready to be High Lord, let alone High Lord during war.
Still, the globe held so many memories, and now, he had a feeling, or maybe it was a hope (Kal couldn't decide), that the globe would be home to another. He found himself running his fingers through his hair and down to the short icy stubble growing across his jaw. The fox gave him a questioning look and with the tilt of its head, glanced as if to say, "Are we going or not?"
Kal had a moment's hesitation. He should wait, he should see her in the morning with her parents and sister, he should do things properly. There was a proper way to approach this all, he didn't have to dive back into knowing Viviane, he didn't have to know her at all. Kal realized he had a choice, he could go back to bed, and see her in the morning when they were decked out in finery, and exchange polite glances over hot coffee, or Kal could move his ass and go see the girl who had been his other half throughout their entire childhood. Kal took a shallow breath and walked to the window. The wind was howling fiercely, the storm they'd weathered to get to the Hall of Crystals was nightmarish, their reindeer must be exhausted, recovering from a storm like this took days, at the least, weeks sometimes. She would be staying here for a while perhaps
It seemed the Cauldron had forced his hand, he decided, he couldn't avoid her, he couldn't risk making things uncomfortable for all of Solstice. He should go. Be brave he said to himself. It seemed funny to say that, especially about Viviane, she was the one that had once inspired bravery. She had inspired him to spar with her, then the world. Made him try Solstice delicacies, wild game pies that were gifts from the Autumnal courts, she'd made it a chore trying to find the one with the most assertive smell. Viviane had once been the source of his bravery, and now she was poking at the very foundation.
I'm going, he decided. If it were me writing to her, she would come, or at least he hoped she would come.
Regardless of the thoughts storming through his mind, Kal quickly pulled on gray pants, and a deep blue sweater, throwing a fur cloak around his shoulders and creeping out of room, past the door to his parents chambers, and towards the eastern corridor.
This early in the morning he met few servants, save the ones tending the fire who all swiftly turn their eyes away from their ice prince sneaking from his chambers. He knew that word of his early morning traipse through the castle would shortly be reported to his mother, but that was a problem to be dealt with in the morning.
Kal picked up his pace and hurried down the halls, following the swift footsteps of the little snow fox that paused to look back every few moments as if to say, "She's waiting for you, come on!" He passed swiftly through the halls, taking little note of the splendor that had been displayed for Solstice, the great rooms he hurried past twinkled with fae lights, and boughs of evergreen tangled along the hearth, where in each room, a roaring fire keeping the rooms warm and inviting.
Those were of little note, however, as Kal climbed the steep spiraling stairs, cursing himself for not bringing a candle. It was pitch black, and he was relying only on memory to not break his ass falling down the stairs.
It was a great relief when some minutes later he'd found his way to the very top, to the closed door that would reveal Vivi. Though he knew exactly who laid behind he couldn't bring himself to lift the door handle, and rather found himself staring at the palms of his hands. They were calloused now, they hadn't been the last time he'd seen Viviane
It hit Kal how nervous he was, he could feel his hands shaking, and it took a great deal of control to steady his breathing. Ice raged in the pit of his belly, creating a heavy lump, a sinking feeling. He didn't know if he could face her. In the several years they'd been separated, they'd written. It was frequent at first. Their exchanges were as if they were in the same room. Conversational as she settled in at the border, complaining at first that there were no girls, plenty of females training and cooking and mothering, but no girls to play with or talk to, and that none of the boys would come near her, scared of her father's wrath, and scared of her too, Kal supposed.
They'd parted when they were children, little more than teens by human standards. And now here Kal stood, hand paused on the door, the great sense of weight burdening him, begging him to turn around, or open the door, or to do something, anything at all.
The fox looked at him, sensing his fear, or perhaps laughing at his indecision. The twinkle in its eyes were casting judgement on him, on the cowardice he was showing.
He was afraid of her, Kal realized. It had been years, and gradually he'd written back less and less. His uncles had hauled him into training, thrusting his first sword in his hand, and suddenly he had felt more like a male, a gangly, gawking male, but a male nonetheless. It had felt strange writing to her about that, stranger to feel it. And then it had felt like their childhood, like their friendship had left them. It had blown out like a candle, but the taste of it was still on his tongue, like the memory of a sweet wine he'd tasted once before.
Do it, he said to himself, just do it. Open the goddamn door, he commanded his arms.
Kal cracked the door, moving past the it sheepishly, his eyes suddenly locked on the rabbit slippers he wore. "Shit," he muttered softly, what a way to make an introduction, or, reintroduction he supposed.
"Hi, Kal," a voice said softly across the room. It took great effort to peel his eyes away from his feet, but when he did, he was glad he opened the door.
"Viviane," he whispered, taking a moment to drink her in. She'd just arrived, he mused, her snowy leather boots lay dripping next to the hearth. Looking her toe to tip his fears were confirmed. Just as he'd changed she had too, staring at him with a toothy grin was a female who looked nothing like Viviane. His friend had left with knobby knees, unrefined manners. He took a breath, she'd had hair chopped to her chin, hair that they had cut when it got in the way of their first and second and third attempts to race reindeer. Her mother had been furious. There had been a change, her hair was now long, and silvery. Silver or moonlight or snow, he wondered.
"I didn't know if you'd get my letter, it's rather late, but," her feet shifted back and forth, like a nervous dance, "but I figured it was worth a shot to see you before all the excitement tomorrow." He'd been staring like an ass, he realized.
"Your friend scratched at my door, I couldn't ignore him," Kal wanted to smile at her, but he felt his face fixed in concentration, still observing the changes. She was clad in the steely gray of the border camps, she was nearly invisible to the eyes of even the high fae in the snowy mountains. But here she couldn't disappear, tunic and leggings clinging tightly to her as she dried off from the storm that wailed outside. Kal was certain moments ago her hair had been frosted over, and her eyelashes coated with snowflakes.
"Oh, Boris, he's a faithful friend from home, we're bonded, we don't part," she smiled to her companion, who'd slipped in the door seconds after he'd arrived, moving to curl up near her boots by the fire.
"Would you like some wine? Coffee? Tea?" Anything, he silently begged.
"The wine, please, if you have it," she paused, "Which is stupid, of course you'd have wine this close to Solstice, and you obviously wouldn't have offered it if you hadn't had it too, I suppose. Wine, wine is good," she glanced up to the ceiling, and he watched her chew at her lower lip, the way she had when she'd gotten herself into a bind and had to explain herself to her father.
"Wine, I can do wine," Kal walked as quickly as he could to the cupboard, grabbing bottles of white and red wine, and bumping his way under the stove to find a pot. He had a stilling feeling that he was going to need a lot of wine, Cauldron help him.
Quickly the task calmed him. He glanced over his shoulder, Viviane was watching with a small smirk.
"You cook now? A prince of the Winter Court?"
Kal couldn't help but smile. "It's pretty hard not to learn anything, Viv. Mother insisted I learn how to make wine with my sisters." He snorted at the memory, "And when we were learning, Eira knocked garlic in her pot and spoiled the whole batch."
Kal shook his head as he added the orange peel, spices, and sugar to the slowly heated pot. The smell wafted up, and he let out a small sigh. Tonight was bitterly cold, and he was hoping the wine could revive him.
Kal quietly turned a timer on and left the wine to simmer, and once again turned to look at Viviane, "This will take a few minutes, can I get you anything now… before it's done?"
"Oh, of course, um Coffee?" Coffee. Coffee was easy. Kal could do coffee.
He swiftly prepared the hot drink, and dumped it clumsily into a mug, taking care not to touch her fingertips as he handed it to her.
"So," he looked around the room, begging for something to pop out to him to start a conversation, "Um, uh, how is your sister?" Wow genius, a human could do better than this. It's not like you've had years of etiquette lessons to prepare for awkward conversations.
Viviane raised her eyebrows, "She's doing well, I think she took to the mountains better than I have. She's basically a wild woman now." She shifted back and forth.
Kal could feel his skin tingling from the awkwardness, and he wished for a moment that he were as charismatic as his sisters. Melia and Eira would take command of the situation, they would make sure there was music, and conversation, and warmth. Kal could only think about the frost he usually brought along with him.
The timer went off. Finally. Kal quickly lobbed the wine into goblets, and passed one to Viviane, before moving to take a drink for himself.
The first sip brought happiness to his heart, the wine, the wind, it was home. Viviane looked to be having nearly as spiritual a moment with her wine, as he had with his.
A smile spread quickly across her face, "This tastes exactly like your mother's, I'm grateful she taught you."
The moments passed and the silence once again tensed, it seemed like neither fae wanted to break the tension. Viviane finally gestured to the plush cushions set next to the fire, "I'm freezing. Sit with me?" she nodded behind her.
Kal tensed, but found his feet obeying some unsaid command and leading him to Viviane. This is what he had come here for, he hadn't left his room this late, and lost sleep, to be too cowardly to speak with her. Still, he stiffly sat, avoiding her eyes as he settled into the cushion.
When he finally looked to her face he was surprised to see that she looked nearly as nervous as he felt, averting her eyes from him. "Why the late night invitation?" He asked softly. Why couldn't this wait until morning, he wondered now, hearing the faintest tinkling of bells behind him.
She turned to him, her blonde brows crumpling, "I didn't know if you wanted to see me, and I didn't know if I wanted to see you," she shifted, stretching her feet to the fire and leaned back, "The whole way here all I could think about was how awkward breakfast was going to be, how strange it would be to sit here in this great hall with your family again. It was driving me crazy," she still talked with her hands, and Kal suddenly felt himself warming, "-it just seemed like the dumbest thing to have to see you again in front of a crowd. The globe felt better… safer, maybe," she trailed off, looking from his smiling lips to his eyes.
A short battle raged in Kal's head. He knew he had more than a little control in deciding how close they could be again, "I haven't slept well in days," he watched her absorb what he'd said. "Not since I found out you were coming back," finally he let himself understand why he was so tired, why he was shit in meetings, and shit at sparring, shit at being a prince. He was anxious to remeet Viviane.
"Oh?" He noticed her eyes were the same light blue as the sky on a frigid morning, and the borderland's winds had whipped pink into her cheeks, and chapped her face.
"I think I've been feeling the same sort of things you've been feeling, I mean, it's all my fault." he raked his fingers through his icy hair, "I'm the one who stopped writing. You have perfect reason to hate me." He dragged in a breath, "I mean, Viv, we'd been friends since we've been walking, and I'm the bastard that stops writing back." He'd never said that out loud. He'd never let himself think about it. His shoulders tensed, in anticipation for the thrashing he knew she was about to deal to him.
"You did stop writing," her fingers nimbly started making small plaits in her hair as she spoke, "I thought maybe you'd have a good reason for that. Do you?" She glanced from her work to his face. "Do you?"
"Not one that's nearly good enough," her eyes dimmed.
"Oh, that's unfortunate," She shifted from her stretched out position, drawing her feet under her.
"Incredibly unfortunate," he nearly groaned. What does one say, when one has killed a friendship? One stops referring to oneself as oneself, Kal noted.
"I didn't know how to talk to you when you were so far away. I knew I could it's just it seemed like anything I could say would be too much for a letter, so I kept pushing the important stuff back and back thinking I'd just tell you when I visited, or when you came home, and it was just never said." He ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry I don't have a good reason, and I know that what I said isn't good enough, and I know you hate me, but I just-"
"Hate you? Me? Hate you? I thought you hated me?" Viviane's eyebrows were arched, and her mouth had dropped into small, perfect O.
"What? That's absurd, that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard, why in the world would you think I hated you?"
Viviane scoffed, "Because, frosty, you stopped writing. Hell, after awhile I started writing nonsense in my letters to see if you were even reading them," she huffed,
"You are smart enough to know that polar bears can't fly, and don't have three snouts aren't you?"
"Polar bears? Who in Prythian are talking about polar bears having three snouts?" She's lost her mind, Kal thought. She's been at the border for too long, she's gone mad from boredom.
"I knew it!" Viviane cried out, sitting up on her knees and pointing sternly at him, "I knew you weren't reading my letters. You just stopped." She settled back into the cushion, quietly. She looked hesitant.
"Oh," Kal found himself biting his nails.
He watched as Viviane took in a deep breath, "You're kind of an asshole, you know that. We were born two days apart, and I'd never done anything without you. Maybe I was stupid, but I didn't think that the borderlands would keep us from being friends."
"You're not stupid, I was just wrong. I'm sorry Viviane. I wish I could take it back, I've always known it was the worst way I could have handled things. It's such a mistake, it feels like a mar on my heart," Kal took a gulp of the wine, still warm on his throat. "I know it's too late to repair things, I've done enough to hurt you, and that's the last thing I ever wanted to do. I just froze, and couldn't figure out how to talk to you, and so I just cut you off." Kal buried his face in his hands, he felt ashamed as he felt his eyes burn glassy with tears. Princes don't cry, princes especially don't cry in front of females they've hurt.
Kal felt a hand grasp his wrist and move his hand from his face. Viviane had moved across the floor. She took his face in her hands, "It's not too late, Kallias, it's never too late for you. I've been waiting for you for years. We wait for our friends, we keep them in our hearts, and we wait to be reunited."
Kal felt himself staring in awe at her, her pale face seemed almost to glow when she finally smiled at him. "I don't deserve your forgiveness, Viv."
"No, you don't. But it's mine to give and yours to take. On one condition, though, frosty." Kal perked up, "You can't leave me like that again. You have to talk to me. You have to promise me."
Kal drew in a sharp breath, "I promise, Viv. I promise I won't." He felt a slight burning on his wrist and looked down to see a tattoo the size of a coin, a light and silvery snowflake shone against the paleness of his skin. Promises for High Fae of their kind, those who wield magic, were not empty. Promises were rare, and they marked the bind between the two, a shared contract.
"This is a second chance, Kal. There's not a third. Maybe there shouldn't even be a second, please don't disappoint me." She looked serious. Viviane once again reached for his wrist, her rough hands turning over his palm, and tracing the small tattoo.
Viviane moved away from him, and back to her perch on the cushion. The little snow fox had long ago fallen asleep beside the fire.
He watched as she took a sip of wine, now cold, and looked him steadily in his face, "This doesn't make us friends again, you know. I mean, I still care about you, and I've missed you, but it doesn't mean that we're the same as before."
"I understand, Viv," he said seriously.
She took in a sharp breath, "We're starting over, completely over."
"I can do that," he nodded.
Kal knew he was young, but it had been a nasty well of guilt every time he'd thought about Viviane, about how shitty of a friend he'd been to her, and he'd known as soon as the letters had stopped that he had made one of the greatest mistakes of his life. About the letters that still lay unopened in a box in the back of his closet. Second chances were rare amongt their people. The frost and snow that enveloped them had hardened them to outsiders, and had hardened them against each other. The Winter Court had strict policies of trust. Viviane's father had been a friend of Kal's father since they were boys, and when Kal's father had ascended to High Lord, it had only made sense that his boyhood friend would join him in council. Promises were not broken, and friendships were not lost.
So, Kal had understood the seriousness of her forgiveness. It was a gift, and a kindness than not many would have bestowed on him. The snowy markings on his arm would eternally mark him, and if he broke the promise, it would bleed, it would color the tattoo to show the spoiled nature.
Viviane smiled at him softly, "I'm happy you followed my note."
Kal's own smile warmed in respond, "I'm happy you sent it."
It was then that Kal saw the hint of rays cross the earth's edge, the sun was rising. They'd been in the globe for several hours, though the brunt of it felt like only minutes had passed. It seemed impossible that in the darkness he'd crept through the castle like a coward, scared to face a foe when he was really happening upon an old friend.
He and Viv settled down into the cushions, leaning back to look at candy colored sky, the remaining clouds from the storm tinted pink and yellow. They quickly fell into the rhythm of talking to each other once again, he could feel the graininess in his eyes draw them to close. It was easy to fall asleep in the globe, easier to fall asleep on the cushions next to Vivian like he had when he was young, and for what felt like the first time in forever, Kal fell asleep.