The clan was killed...but the Keeper might be as well.

Hesara cursed internally as she pulled the blade from the last bandit's body and quickly rushed to the edge. All she could see was pure white. Any holes made by the jester or footprints were filled enough by the heavy falling snow.

"Mother help me, help me, help me. Help me find Cicero, I can't do this on my own. He'll die if you don't help," she found herself chanting as she struggled to find the Keeper through the worsening storm. Snow stung her eyes and icy winds stung her fingers worse than any metal blade could as she went along the side to try and find a way down. She worked through the pain, pushed through it by concentrating on her internal chanting.

"Mother, help me. Mother, help me. Help me save him, help me find him. I need help!"

The chant had turned to a panic yell in her head as her foot stepped on a patch of ice and pulled her feet out from under her. She tried to regain her footing, but all she met was more ice that refused to let her stabilize until she had to jab her nails in to break the ice. Her fingers took the full brunt of her weight, making her nails feel as if they were being torn off. The elf gritted her teeth, once more trying to fight the pain and hunger and weariness of the day. Despite it, she reached out and dug her nails into the ice above her. Slowly she was beginning to climb. It felt like hours when she could finally see the the edge. However, by that time, she knew she could go on no more. Just as the thought came to mind a rough hand grabbed her wrist in a bruising grip and yanked her nails out of the ice. Hesara glanced up and struggled while she tried using her free hand to grab her dagger.

It was one of the bandits, still alive.

"Be still, dragon soul," a familiar voice crooned in her head,"Be still for I will help."

The bandit pulled her up single handed by simply straightening up. Once back on solid ground, Hesara watched as the bandit's bodies started rising up, walking to the edge of the cliff and falling off where Cicero had disappeared with no feeling of pain or fear. They were all moving and searching for the Keeper, now covering a lot more ground with many more hands.

It took two agonizing hours to finally locate the Keeper and dig him out of the snow. By the time Hesara hauled him out of the small hole dug, Cicero was soaked to the bone from melted snow and a worrying shade of pale blue that was more prominent around his eyes and lips. It was not a good color. She turned to the bodies for help to take him, however, they had all fallen lifeless again as the Night Mother's spell wore off. As quick as she could, Hesara strapped him to her chest with rope and trekked back to the small cave. The fire had downed to mere coals and she left him beside it to fetch anything that would help it grow from the bandits, including their hair. She used the locks lastly so the flames caught fire to the rest of the items. Once she was sure it would hold for a while, she turned back to Cicero.

"Body heat," her mind suddenly answered, as she tucked him in a makeshift blanket from the saber cat pelt she had,"create more heat."

She had to peel the Jester's clothing off from him, the ice water was not helping his condition and she wrung them out and set them to dry. Next, she called her loyal dapple mare to act as a second source of heat, laying down a bag of food for her to keep her from wandering off. She propped him against the animal's stomach, hoping it was semi comfortable. Now came the uncomfortable part...

With a deep breath, Hesara stripped out of her own freezing cold clothes and laid them out next to his before sliding in next to the Keeper. She hissed when their skins touched as the cold from him invaded to her bones. She allowed herself a few seconds to adjust to his temperature before shifting to allow maximum heat. With no thought or emotion to the situation, she put both his hands underneath her breasts. A lot of heat was trapped under them, and had helped her keep her own fingers intact more times than she could count. She tucked them both in tightly to the furs before wrapping her legs around his and pulling him as close as possible with his head cradled onto her breasts. Hesara's skin was now prickly with goosebumps from the cold and she herself was becoming stiff from it. Quietly, the Bosomer wrung out the Keeper's hair, relieving it of more ice water. As she started finger brushing it, she found herself looking him over.

She had never really looked at Cicero, REALLY looked, mainly for the reason of his constant screeching and restless bouncing around. Now that he lay against her, even though near the brink of freezing to his death, she found herself taking him in for the first time.

He had strong features, not like the roughness of the Nords but not without their own charms as well. He had an older look to his face that the Bosomer had aways found attractive in humans. All male elves from Altmer to Dark to Bosomer always seemed trapped in a face of youth. For one reason or another, it never drew her to even get close to them, let alone actually speak. His hair was a lovely shaded mixture, like the bark of a redwood tree, brushing his shoulders in small waves even though the locks were still heavy with water. By the time she had lulled herself to sleep, the sun was going down and the storm was letting up.

Thank you everyone for the reviews, favs, and follows! I'm so glad you like this story!

The usual disclaimers: No one but Hesara is mine.

Ha! Found some of my old notes on paper and was able to remember where I wanted to go~

Does this chapter seem a little fast, jump around too much, etc? Message me oor review your opinions, please!