I've had the basic premise of this story in my head for a while, but I had a hard time finding the right place for it. I like to think that I've finally found it. Only time will tell if I'm right.

Midwinter

The fire crackled and snapped, the thick shutters keeping the howl of the storm outside outside where it belonged. The room was just the right side of uncomfortably hot, keeping everyone inside comfortable without feeling stifled. Winter was usually a quiet season for Adventurers, with many monsters hibernating or otherwise curtailing their activities until the spring thaw. As such many members of the Adventurers Guild took the time to visit family, train or otherwise relax.

Goblin Slayer was, usually, an exception to this rule, given his all-consuming obsession with exterminating goblins. Even when the snow was thick on the ground and icicles hung down low from the eves, he was perfecting his life's work. Usually, but that was then, and this was now.

Now, for the first time in more than ten years, he was spending Midwinters Eve with those even he would consider friends. He was still not completely sure just how they'd talked him into taking the time off, but he expected that it had something to do with the big, puppy-dog eyes Priestess had turned on him when Cow Girl had announced her intention to host the annual celebrations at the farm. Dwarf Shaman had been close behind, proclaiming it the perfect time to break open a barrel of special reserve fire wine that he'd been holding onto. That had spurned High Elf Archer into joining, dragging Lizardmen Priest into the mix. Guild Girl had happily accepted an unexpected invitation, and soon Goblin Slayer found himself outnumbered and surrounded.

Try as he may, the one thing he could never do was make those closest to him unhappy, and he had somewhat reluctantly agreed, even as Spearman and Witch found an excuse to invite themselves, followed by Heavy Swordsman and Female Knight, the younger members of their party spending the holiday with their families. As such, Goblin Slayer found himself swept up in a wave of excitement and jubilation, and he had been carried away as if he had fallen into a swift flowing river.

And that was how he found himself sitting in a large, overstuffed chair with his feet up on a footstool and a warm blanket over his lap. That alone would have been enough to make him surprisingly uncomfortable, but he also found himself caught between Cow Girl, who had snuggled up on his right hand side, and Guild Girl, who had wrapped herself around his left flank. He was still unclear on their justification, but they had quickly fallen asleep, making it impossible for him to move without disturbing them.

Priestess, High Elf Archer and Dwarf Shaman were off to one side, sitting together on a sofa with a now very empty barrel of Fire Wine. Goblin Slayer had to admit that it was potant stuff, the single cup he'd had burned its way down his throat and settled in his stomach like a ball of flame. All three of them had drunk far more, and would no doubt pay the price come morning, but tomorrow was another day.

Lizardman Priest had made himself what could only be described as a nest of blankets beside the fire: his people were naturally cold blooded, and as such winter affected him far more than it did the others. Only the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest, and the half eaten wheel of cheese he still clutched in his hands, made it clear that he was indeed alive under the mountain of wool.

Spearman was asleep, laying length ways across another chair, Witch curled up on his lap, smiling like the proverbial cat that got the cream. Goblin Slayer was far from an expert, but he felt sure that their relationship was moving beyond simply party members. Heavy Swordsman and Female Knight weren't even trying to hide their love for one another, given the fact that they had arrived with his arm around her waist, and they had left early with his cloak around her shoulders to keep the snow off of the slinky dress she had worn.

Goblin Slayer knew, on an intellectual level, that this was what some might consider... normal, but his life hadn't been anything like normal for a long time. He wasn't sure if it was even possible for him to find his way back to that life, or if it had been lost to him. He knew that his friends were trying to pull him back, to anchor him to his humanity before it was lost for good.

Cow Girl shifted at his side, slipping an arm across his chest, a warm smile on her face. It wasp clear that she was dreaming, of what exactly he couldn't begin to imagine. She was perhaps the strongest link to his past, memory of a better time, when he could imagine a life beyond killing goblins. He knew that she envisioned a life for the two of them: a home, children, and there was a part of him that felt drawn to that dream. He just wasn't sure how strong that was.

Guild Girl, in comparison, represented an overly romantic vision of who he could become if he used his skills and expertise on more than just goblins. The Adventurers Guild had seen fit to award him the rank of Silver, proving that they saw something more to him than a simple exterminator of pests. He knew that, if he committed himself to it, he had the potential to become a great Adventurer, something High Elf Archer and the rest of his party were trying to push him towards.

Priestess was, despite everything that she'd been through, an innocent who looked up to him like the big brother she'd never had. Like him, she was an orphan, with no family but the one she made for herself. She had her faith, and that was as strong and unshakeable as the mountains, but at heart, she was only a child experiencing her first crush. Oh, he was aware how she thought she felt about him: she wasn't as good at hiding it as the others, but her unabashed openness was one of her more redeeming features that drew people to her like bees to a particularly fragrent flower.

Spearman and Witch represented what he could have been if life had turned out differently. They saw that, and it was clear that the jokes aimed at him were in response to their belief that he could do better if he only apllied himself.

It felt like there was as much pulling him back as there was pushing him forward, and he wasn't sure which way he wanted to go. He'd dedicated his life to avenging his sister, and he still felt the same anger burning inside him: a cold, calculating rage that howed like the growing storm outside. But there was also the sirens song of a new, old life, a life without his endless war, and that burned with equal intensity.

He was at war with himself, and for once, he couldn't see a clear path.

But that was a problem for another day, and tonight the fire was warm, his chair comfortable and the company good. He felt he deserved a night off. There'd be time enough for the goblins tomorrow.

The End