It seemed like only half a heartbeat later when his eyes fluttered open. A frost fae standing over his bed and chilling the room until his teeth were chattering. Kal leaned forward to take a peek at the clock on his mantel, thirty minutes until two. The frost fae had kept their word.
Kal swung his legs over the side of the bed, and stretched his toes. He leaned his neck from side to side cracking it, before he stood. He was still exhausted, but couldn't bring himself to regret the talk he'd had the night before with Viviane.
She'd told him about the border, mainly how their life was different. She'd talked in a hushed voice, like she was sharing secrets, as she described the polar bears and how their harnesses jingled with silver bells as they sauntered through the camp town. He could still hear the melodic sound of her laugh, and the snorts that accompanied it, as she talked about her first time corralling a reindeer (also the time she broke her coccyx).
Kal heaved a sign, and moved to the pile of clothes he'd left on the floor. He tugged his grey pants on, enjoying the warmth they brought. He walked over to the armoire, choosing one of his well-worn shirts. He swiftly decided on a beige tunic that had once been lovely, but now was threadbare, and stained from the exercises he'd conducted with his father's men.
Kal rolled his neck a final time, sitting down to tug on thick woolen socks and well work boots. To Viviane's, he decided at last. He'd put it off long enough, taking his time to think over the practicality of his clothes.
Kal hailed a frost spirit from the wall with a quick gesture, "Where is Viviane's room?" He asked the household keeper.
The frost spirit opened her clear, milky eyes. "South wing, young master. Near the other guests."
"Thank you, friend," Kal watched as the spirit was absorbed back into the stone wall, leaving nothing but the chill of her body behind.
He walked from his room, relishing in the clicks and clacks his boots made over the stone floors, especially where the frost crept in. His ancestors had tried for centuries to keep the frost out, fortifying the Hall of Crystals in dozens of new fashions, but never managing to consider that the frost was coming within. Each High Lord of Winter had a frostiness to their person, it was a confirmation that they had hardened enough to be worthy of the job. His father was warm to his children and wife only, putting on a hard, impenetrable exterior to others.
Click, Clack.
South wing, south wing, south wing, he sang as he maneuvered his way through the halls of the palace, avoiding servants carrying trays towering with last minute pine cones to be added to displays, and the odd bundle of sleigh bells here and there. His home was full, as if the air had returned to her lungs, and the beat back to her heart. With the court spread out through all of Winter's territories, sometimes it was only his family and close staff in the Hall of Crystals.
Sometimes it was lonely. Sometimes Kal got tired of burying himself in books, or in training all hours of the day for a conflict that was unlikely to come. His father had fought in the war against Hybern, and there was peace in their parts since the wall was built to separate humans from Prythian. Days sometimes felt empty.
Kal shook his head, there was no need to think about sad things when there were hundreds of people in his home. He finally found himself at the entrance to the violet room, a room his grandmother had decorated for his mother when she had arrived from the Dawn court to wed his father. The interior was laid out in hues of purple and blue, like the sky as the sun touched over the horizon. Of course his mother would put Viv and Viola here. He could remember a dozen times he'd found Viviane hiding in the violet room just to bask in the murals of the sky, he was sure his mother had remembered that well too.
Putting his fist to his mouth, Kal cleared his throat before knocking firmly on Viviane's door. He folded his hands behind his back, and walked in a small circle waiting for her to answer.
"Yes?" Viv called from behind the door.
"Uh, it's me… Kallias. Would you still like to spar this afternoon?"
"Oh, um yes! Just a minute," he heard her scrambling through the room. The sound of the little thumps of thrown shoes, and jingling of hurried belting made their way to his ear, and he couldn't help but grin. Viviane had always been a whirlwind in her room.
She quickly opened the door with a deep inhale, "I lost track of time, and I wasn't really sure that a young lord like yourself would have time to spar with me."
Viv knitted her eyebrows together, waiting for his reaction.
"It feels as if I have nothing but time right now. Besides, Mel and Eira will be beside themselves if they can't take the opportunity to put together a charcuterie board."
"Even if it is… improper?" She tilted her head towards him, fingertips playing with the end of her long, braided hair.
"Was it not improper when we sparred as children, with sharpened icicles and wooden swords?"
"Apparently it's different now according to my mother. She's afraid that it's going to drive off suitors," she dramatically rolled her eyes at the thought.
Kal stopped for a moment to consider, "I would like to spar with you, but I don't want to cause you any harm."
She sighed, and leaned into the hallway, taking note of the empty halls, "You see, I don't particularly care about suitors at this particular time, I just don't want her to spend a full evening after this telling me why I should be looking at 'suitors'," she said, throwing air quotes around the word.
"Well," Kal said after a beat, "what if I'm ordering you to spar with me? Show me the border techniques for the good of the High Lord's army? What would she have to say then?"
Viviane's eyes lit up, "Well, that is a plan," she said, throwing a hand on her hip. "Give me a couple minutes, I'll be right out."
The door slammed with a thud. Kal leaned against the wall, smiling to himself at his grand scheme, regardless of how grand it actually was.
Viviane popped out moments later in dark pants, tall boots, and a worn green tunic. She had a sword strapped to her side, and her hand rested gently on the pommel.
"Ready! Are we meeting the others there?"
"I think they should be there? Why, are you afraid of an audience when I beat you?" He smirked at her, and gestured the direction they were heading.
"When you beat me? I'd like to remind you for a moment of our youth," she gestured in front of her to paint the picture. "Imagine a young male and a young female, sparring with sticks and icicles. Imagine further, all of the times I whipped your ass with those sticks. Now, translate that into today. You may have had fancy tutors, but I've had giants teaching me." She smiled broadly as she finished her story.
"I guess we'll see how well you learned, won't we. I'm not fighting a giant, I'm fighting someone a head shorter than me," he said, making an effort to rest his elbow on the top of her head.
"Hey, hey. Off the hair, it's not often we have days with braids that aren't frozen. Let me enjoy this while it lasts."
Kal held his hands up in defeat, "Okay, okay, I should have known better. Eira would skin me alive if I messed with her hair. I think Mel's still plotting murder from the time I got maple candy in her hair, remember when we were younger, and mother had to shear it off up to her chin."
Viviane started laughing loudly, "By the cauldron, I forgot about that. If I remember correctly though, she got you back. She colored your hair blue with indigo dye."
Kal scratched at the back of his neck, "Oh yeah, it was great explaining to father how that occured. They still call me bluebell sometimes, you know."
"Bluebell, oddly enough it suits you." She beamed widely at him.
"That's what everyone else says," Kal muttered under his breath.
He was happy when they reached the sparring ring to find Eira, Viola, and Melia constantly seated out of the way, visibly tipsy and exchanging various smeared crackers.
"What took you so long?" Eira yelled across the way.
"I had to make myself beautiful for you, dear sisters!" Kal called back. He quickly went to retrieve his weapon of choice from the well stocked rack. He had left the Miskunn in his rooms, Kal had no intention of wielding the sword against a friend anytime soon.
Kal chose carefully from the rack, he took a moment to look back at Viviane's blade, and attempted to match the length of his sword to hers. She wasn't using a waster, a wooden practice sword, like many of the knights that Kal fought against in the ring. She trained with steel and she fought today with steel.
Unsheathing the sword he walked to the ring, where she was standing, looking bored.
"You always did have to take your time, didn't you Kallias." Viviane smirked at him as she unsheathed her blade, the shing ringing through the courtyard.
"Cauldron, I love that sound," he said, ignoring her quip.
He tested the balance in his hand, adjusting to the weight, and looking to her eyes. There were dark circles under her eyes, he couldn't help but think about the nights she hadn't slept on her journey to the palace. That wouldn't help her now, not that he found himself well-rested.
Kal presented his sword to Viviane, and offered her a quick, dramatic bow. She laughed, baring her teeth at him
Viviane began circling him, throwing out quick jabs, posturing him like a cat fighting to claim territory.
He parried her moves, waiting her out and testing her patience. If she was as exhausted as he thought, she would lose her temper quickly, allowing him to move in.
Finally, the moment came, she drove her sword towards his left arm, in a quick motion he parried, surprised at the speed of her sword. He met her move and returned it, their feet entering into a dance so few can follow. Watching them, Melia would later recall, was like watching a snowstorm, beautiful and dangerous.
They met, each parry followed by a returning blow, dancing to the very edges of the circle. Kal's breath heaving, and Viviane's cheeks flushed redder than a bushel of lingonberries.
Viviane's blade caught his shoulder, a small cut flowing freely on his beige tunic.
He winced at the bite, but shook it off. Kal had seen worse than this, felt worse than this.
She was fast on her feet, like a sand serpent flying across the cobblestones in their circle.
Faster and faster they danced, Kal feared his lungs would give out. Sweat flowed freely from his brow, and the cut on his shoulder had dripped blood down to his hand, he tightened his grip to overcome it. Baring his teeth at her in a grin, he watched as her eyebrows furrowed together.
That grin was his downfall, quite literally. Viviane had used her compact size against him, fighting closer, too close for him to risk some of his wider ranged attacks. It was almost in slow motion that he watched her throw a trick attack, only to duck down and knock him off his feet.
Kal found himself staring at a grey sky, head pounding from the beating of his heart and from the crack it had sustained on the stone.
Viviane stood above him, braid half unwound, small rips painting her tunic.
"Do you yield?" She heaved, sword so close it was nearing the tip of his nose.
He pushed himself back from her, looking once again to her face, her sword, and back again. "By the cauldron," he breathed heavily, "I think I do."
She tossed her hair over her shoulder, turning to smile at his sisters and Viola.
The girls applauded fervently, whooping and hollering at their friends well won success.
Viviane turned and offered Kallias her hand, to help him from the ground.
"You swept my feet out from under me, one minute I thought I had you and the next I was on my rump on the ground." Kal moved to rub his tender bum, "This is going to have a hell of a bruise tomorrow, you know."
She smiled back at him, "Oh, don't I know." She patted him on the shoulder, still breathing deeply from the exertion. "You should feel proud, I rarely need to knock someone from their feet. You were a fair match." She ran her fingers back from her forehead, slicking down her hair.
She led him over to the others, "Now, I think it's time we have some wine," Kal watched as she plopped down beside her sister, hugging her close to rub sweat off onto her.
"Gross, gross, we promised no sweat when we're dressed nicely," Viola shrieked at her sister.
"You see only one of us is dressed well, sweat is still allowed baby sister," Viv looked at her with adoration.
"I hate you," Viola laughed at her, moving to pour herself another glass of champagne.
"Are you joining us, brother?" Melia said, patting the empty space next to her. "Come , sit by me," Kal broke out into a grin. It was rare that Melia wanted anything to do with either of her siblings and Kal couldn't help but bask in it.
"You fought well, brother," Eira smiled at him, handing him a glass of the wine and a plate.
"I did. But I was bested," he raised his glass to Viviane, "Here's to old friends, and well matched fights," Kal said proudly.
"Hear, hear!" Viola shouted into the group.
Kal's heart was so full, and so happy that he stood promptly and flopped into a nearby bank of snow, making an angel and enjoying the coolness on his aching behind.
Having Viviane back wasn't so bad after all.
—- Hi All, this is in fact not a one shot. The first chapters of a three part story that I'm doing with these characters (plus some others along the way). Anticipate angst, longing, friendship, maybe a little bit of laughter, and of course a pinch of tragedy. I'll be posting probably every Friday or Saturday, depending on my work schedule. I hope you all enjoy, and are all safe and healthy.