December 19th


Nevena returned the leather bound journal she was eyeing up back to the stall where she found it, smiled awkwardly at the woman selling, and shuffled along to the next stall. She would come back and buy it - she was after a new journal anyway and it wasn't like the woman or the stall were going anywhere. The market was an Edgehall staple according to Ineria. People from all over came to shop, especially just before Christmas. It was also busier than usual because this was the last market there would be in Edgehall before the New Year - so many people were finishing off their last minute purchases.

Next to the stall selling leather bound books and journals was a glassware stall, where to the far back one man was shaping white hot glass; and another stood at the forefront, showing hand blown baubles to a woman in a bright red coat. Beside that was a stall selling jars of sweets in different sizes. There were stalls set up all over the main highstreet and in front of the shopping centre and people bustled around trying to get from one to the other. Nevena was alone, having become separated from her sisters, her parents, and Cullen when they arrived and was enjoying the solitude for now - even if she wasn't enjoying the being bumped into and the disapproving glares.

Visiting the market was Ineria's idea, and it was a good one. Denerim had a weekly market, but it was nothing like this, where it was bustling and nothing was the same, everything was bespoke and original. Nevena always enjoyed outdoor markets because of the variety and the choice - given enough time she always found something that caught her eye and she would take home. She remembered markets in Ostwick where she had grown up. They were larger than this, and there was always entertainment for children while the parents shopped. She hadn't been back to Ostwick since she moved to Denerim. Sometimes she thought about taking a short trip for a few days, going back and seeing what had happened to her childhood home. The idea never came to fruition. It wasn't as though there were a lot of happy memories in Ostwick, anyway.

The atmosphere was just delightful too. Since the prior evening and the long discussion they had, the air in the cabin and between Cullen and Nevena was a little tense. Maybe, in part, because he'd divulged so much personal information, but Nevena believed it was more to do with how much better she knew him now. It was almost like he was waiting for her to tell him something about herself. That now he shared his past with her, it was her obligation to do the same. He didn't say it, but that was the impression Nevena got.

She wanted to. She didn't like clamming up every time the thought of her ex or the mere hint of him came up. And she felt like she owed Cullen a more personal insight into the person she was. He was honest and upfront with her, after all. There was that fear, though. Roselyn knew the truth about her past relationship and the personal revelations that came before the breakup. Roselyn knew, because Nevena trusted her implicitly and because she knew Roselyn wouldn't judge. Alistair knew bits and pieces, because Roselyn told him when Nevena said she could.

Telling Cullen... would open a whole new can of worms. She didn't want him to judge her harshly for her behaviour. She didn't want him to see her in a negative light or to turn on her because she didn't act in the best way when she ended things.

His opinion mattered. The way he felt towards her mattered. She hated to admit it to herself, but the way he looked at her mattered. He looked at her with warmth and softness. A look that had been absent from her last relationship and the last three years. Every time she saw it, her insides squirmed and the hairs all over her body prickled. She blushed around him like an inexperienced school girl and it was humiliating, thrilling, and completely inappropriate.

The previous night, she had gone to bed repeating over and over that their relationship was fake. It was an arrangement and that she needed to get control of herself. If she didn't... She was worried that when their contract came to an end, it would hurt more than it should. She couldn't afford to grow fond of him and get tingly whenever he was within arm's reach. No matter how nice it felt now, it would end, and possibly end badly. She did not want that. Not when she believed and hoped maybe when all was said and done they could be friends. Friends would be enough - at least that was what she tried to convince herself of. He wouldn't want her anyway, not if he knew the truth.

Feeling weary, she found a seat on one of the benches dotted randomly between stalls and sat on the edge. An old man beside her rustled his newspaper noisily as though her sitting disturbed him. She scooted further to the edge putting space between them until she was all but hanging off the bench. He grumbled under his breath and opened his arms to better read his newspaper. Nevena's face warmed and she stared down at her hands, debating whether to apologize for disturbing him.

Maker, she was a feeble excuse for a human being.

"Nevena?" Hearing her name she turned her head in the direction of the voice. Standing about five feet away was her mother, , wrapped up warmly in a thick navy coat and a fur lined hood. Her mother was always well dressed and now was no different. She reminded Nevena of glamorous old movie stars who retired into obscurity.

"Hey," she waved and got to her feet.

"Horses eat hay, Nevena." Katrin remarked approaching her. "Say 'hello'."

"Sorry..." Nevena smiled warily. She slipped her hands into the pockets of her winter jacket before she saw her mother purse her lips at the gesture and quickly removed them. "Uhm... where's dad?" Nevena asked. Last time she had seen her parents, they were together and being dragged somewhere by Clotilde and Owen.

"Talking to your sister." Katrin addressed Nevena but didn't so much as glance at her. She was looking around at the people, the stalls, the goings on around her with something like a sneer of distaste on her face. As if being around so many people was personally insulting to her.

"Oh." Nevena nodded.

"Stop slouching." Katrin grabbed Nevena's shoulders. "Oh - and don't flinch, for goodness's sake, I'm not going to hit you."

"Sorry, sorry!" Allowing her mother to adjust her stance was easier than arguing, Nevena learned that some time ago. She stood still while Katrin straightened her shoulders, prodded her stomach until Nevena breathed in, and nudged her back until it was straight. It was a ritual Nevena remember from her childhood and it still hurt even to this day to keep her back as ridged as she did now.

"What were you doing?"

"Sitting."

"Don't be clever, Nevena. It doesn't suit you." Katrin started walking and Nevena followed like an obedient spaniel - all she was missing was the collar and leash. The sea of people parted for Katrin as though there was an invisible barrier around her that pushed them aside. Nevena was slightly in awe of it. Katrin never moved for other people, even in a busy situation such as this. They moved for her. And if they did not, Katrin could simply glare them into submission. "Now, what are you buying Cullen for Christmas? Or have you already bought him something?"

Nevena came to her mother's side when she stopped to look over a silversmith's stall. There were trays of rings, bracelets, necklaces all in different sizes and styles for both men and women. Katrin picked up a copper bangle similar to one Nevena's father wore. Apparently it warded off gout and other ailments.

"I don't know." Nevena shrugged her shoulders and immediately winced. She waited for the reprimand from her mother, relaxing after a few seconds when it didn't come. Katrin was too occupied by the stall. "I hadn't thought about it."

"You hadn't thought about?" Katrin looked at her, a fine brow arched. She was not an ugly woman, or even a nasty woman but she had been brought up with certain standards she was expected to meet, and she inflicted those same standards on her daughters. Nevena never came close to Katrin's expectations and it caused a rift between them from as early in her childhood that Nevena could remember. Katrin's upbringing also caused her to be quite aloof towards her children. She was never warm, or one for physical affection. She never read to Nevena or her sisters when they were young, or coddled them after a nightmare. She loved them - at least Nevena believed she loved them - but she was not a kindly person to be brought up by.

"No," Nevena said. "Neither of us are particularly big on gift giving." She lied, hoping the explanation would be satisfactory.

"Odd," Katrin sniffed primly. She put the bangle back where she found it and picked up another bracelet of thick silver with a rope pattern etched into it. "You should. You'll never keep someone like that happy with just yourself, Nevena."

Nevena stared ahead for a moment, stunned. The man behind the stall, who was clearly not trying to be obvious while listening to their conversation, looked between her and Katrin, before turning to address another customer. Nevena blinked hard, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Katrin put the bracelet down. "Well, don't get defensive, darling." She pinched the end of Nevena's chin. "I simply mean you'll have to try hard to keep his interest. Attractive men like him - they get bored and," Katrin looked her up and down, "he could do better."

"Wow," Nevena scoffed, torn between feeling appalled, insulted, and angry. "That's..." She puffed her cheeks out. "Yeah. That's... something." She stepped away from her mother. "I'm going to go. Now. Before I do or say something I'll regret."

Katrin watched her backstepping into the people walking past, "You're being too sensitive. I'm trying to help."

"Didn't ask, mum," Nevena turned on her heel. "Didn't ask." She elbowed her way into the throngs of people, hoping that the numbers would help her disappear. Now irritated and fuming she walked against the flow of people, hoping to put as much space between herself and Katrin. She wasn't sure what she was expecting. Katrin rarely had anything nice to say about anyone, but Nevena remembered being on the receiving end of her mother's snide and underhanded comments far more than her sisters.

It made sense, if she rationalized it. Ineria was the oldest and the most like Katrin in looks and personality. Clotilde was the over achiever when she was at school and never put a foot wrong. Arienne was the angel of the four of them. She was blameless in everything she did - even if something going wrong was her fault, Arienne never got into trouble. And then there was Nevena herself. The last child - and one that arrived as a replacement for the son her parents lost not long before. At least, that was what Nevena believed. She'd never approached her parents about it, she knew it was a difficult subject, even now. And even though her parents were not the warmest of people, they were not made of stone. If they had survived the loss of a child, Nevena was not cruel enough to open old wounds for her own sense of self.

Nevena realised she was puffing as she walked and quickly ducked to the side of the market between two stalls. She fished her phone out of her pocket and scrolled through the list of names.

[Nevena]
Hey, this place is a madhouse. Where are you? Need to ask about something.

She sent the message and waited for a response. Stuffing her hands in her pockets - extra deep, just to spite her mother - she turned on the spot, first one way and then the other. She stood on her toes and craned her neck trying to see over the people coming and going in the hopes she might spot Cullen.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket.

[Cullen]
There's a wood working stall near the far end towards the ice rink. I'm with Rowan. You alright?

Nevena smiled to herself. She liked that he was spending time with one of her nephews. She liked more how he asked after her. Even if it was just out of politeness and there was no real sentiment behind it, the question still made her stomach wriggle happily. She ignored it and tapped out a reply.

[Nevena]
I'm okay. You? You're not stressed with the amount of people? Let me know if you need to get some space, or something. I'm coming to the stall. Don't move.

After sending the message, she stepped back into the steady stream of people and began to weave through their bodies. She inched around people crowding around different stalls, excused herself and apologized when people bumped into her. She was small, after all, and everyone was distracted by the stalls and shiny things being presented to them. Her phone vibrated again in her pocket but she chose not to read it until she wasn't surrounded by people. Knowing her luck she would get bumped and her phone would go flying.

It took a good ten minutes for her to find the woodworking stall. It was at the completely opposite end of the market from where she started and people did not move, even when asked repeatedly. The wood carving stall was set a little further away from the others and out of the main thoroughfare, but there were a number of customers looking at the good laid out on a large number of tables. There were wooden ornaments in the shape of ducks, chickens, owls and other birds that were for gardens. Several large benches made out of drift wood were currently being bartered over, and there was a wire tree erected on one table to display small wooden Christmas tree decorations.

Cullen stood with Rowan at one table, the two of them looking pensive and staring down at the space between them. As Nevena approached she noticed between them was a beautifully hand carved chess set, with the pieces carved in the same coloured woods as the board squares. She picked up one of Rowan's discarded knights to look more closely. She could make out the mane of the horses head detailed in the wood, even the eye and the nostrils. Each piece was lovingly crafted and could stand alone as pieces of art.

"Who's winning?" Nevena asked, putting the piece down.

"He is," Rowan groaned, huffing.

"To be fair," Cullen smirked, "Rowan's giving me a run for my money. He has a lot of interesting strategies."

"Good job," Nevena ruffled her nephew's hair.

Rowan batted her hand away, smoothed his hair down and then reached out a hand. His fingers hovered over a bishop for a few seconds, then moved to a pawn. He moved it one square and grinned at Cullen, smugly.

Cullen leaned back to survey the board. "Checkmate." He moved a rook into position.

"What?!" Rowan gaped. "Where?"

"Here." Cullen pointed to the rook. "Here," to his Queen, "and here." He pointed to a bishop. "Sorry."

Rowan knocked his King piece over with a flick of his index finger. "Stupid game, anyway."

"Rowan..." Nevena shook her head watching him as he dashed away towards the ice rink. "Sore loser."

"Should I have let him win?" Cullen asked, rubbing the back of his neck. "I let him win a couple before this."

Nevena squinted at him. "How many games have you played?"

"Four," Cullen smiled. "Would you care for a game?" He gestured to the board with an open hand. "I'll go easy on you."

"Gee, thanks." Nevena made a face in reply and started to set up the black pieces on her side of the board. "I think I remember the rules. This should be interesting."

Chuckling, Cullen straightened his pieces and waited for Nevena to finish setting her own up. "I used to play far more than I do now," he explained. He pushed one pawn forward one space. "My parents taught us, and my older sister would get this smug grin on her face whenever she won, which was all the time." Nevena moved one of her own pawns. "I practiced with my brother day and night." Cullen brought his Queen out on a diagonal.

"Bringing out the big guns?"

"Maybe," he grinned. "I can still remember the look on my sister's face the day I finally won."

"I bet you're a terribly smug winner." Nevena moved another pawn to block his Queen.

"Checkmate." Cullen moved the Queen across the white diagonal squares to the edge of the board. He pointed at the direction it could move in to capture Nevena's King.

"Ah..." Nevena's mouth fell open. "How... I mean..." She shook her head. "That was three moves. You must have cheated."

Cullen laughed, a deep rumbling chuckle, "I can. But with you I don't think I need to."

"You were distracting me!" Nevena pointed out. "Another game. I want to play white this time."

"As you wish." Cullen bowed graciously and turned the board around so the white pieces were in front of Nevena. She moved the pieces back into place. "What did you want to talk about?" he asked, waiting with folded arms for Nevena to move her piece.

"I had an... interesting conversation with my mother."

"Really?" snorted Cullen.

"I won't go into it." Nevena pushed a pawn forward. "But she did make a point. Have you thought about Christmas presents?"

"Not really." Cullen moved a pawn two spaces and leaned back. "What about them?"

"Well, she asked me what I was getting you. When I said nothing, I said it was because we're not really much into gift giving."

"Okay."

"But," Nevena nudged another pawn out of formation onto the next square. "The more I think about it, the more I think it will look kind of weird if we don't have at least something for each other to open on Christmas day. Even if it's something stupid and small."

Cullen moved a bishop across the board. "Okay." Nevena brought out a knight. "Makes sense. It would look kind of off." He moved his Queen across the board.

"So, ground rules." Nevena frowned at the board, tapping her fingers on a pawn yet to move. "Nothing lavish. Nothing super expensive. Something silly would be fine. But just something so no one gets... weird." She finally moved another pawn.

"Weird would be bad." Cullen's initial pawn jumped onto a square Nevena's pawn occupied. He disposed of her white piece beside the board. "What if I pretended to propose?" he smirked.

Nevena's face exploded with heat and she stared at him, unable to conceal her shock and disbelief. Even though she knew he was in no way serious, the expression on his face gave her pause for a few heartbeats. Then she shook her head. "Don't even joke about that. My family would never forgive me if I ended another engagement. Even a fake one."

"Fair enough," Cullen chuckled. "Oh, and checkmate."

Nevena stared down at the board and she planted her hands on the table. "I hate you."

"That's uncalled for," teased Cullen. "I'll have to teach you."

"Don't mock me. You'll make me laugh, bitterly." Nevena leaned across the table, chin lifted in a challenge. "Let's do something I'm good at."

"All right." Cullen mirrored her, leaning on the opposite side and inching forward. He clicked his tongue and his mouth slipped into a crooked smile which made Nevena's stomach drop to her knees. "What did you have in mind?"


What Nevena had in mind was something Cullen was not skilled at in any way and realised very quickly she vastly outmatched him. He stood outside of the barrier of the ice rink, rental skates yet to be put on, at the ground by his feet. From his vantage point he had a good view of the whole rink. From afar it did not appear very big, but up close Cullen realised it stretched approximately the length and width of a football field. A small section at one end was cordoned off for young children using their parents or penguin shaped aids to keep their balance. The rest of the area was open to skaters and despite how busy the market was, the ice rink was not over populated.

Dotted around on the ice were stewards in luminous yellow jackets. Whenever anyone fell over or people collided, they were with them in seconds to help them off the ice and deal with any issues or injuries. When they weren't dealing with patrons, they were skating around and offering advice those on the ice having trouble with balance or speed.

Nevena did not need any assistance; not a hand to hold or a word of instruction though one steward offered it when she first stepped on the ice. When Arienne mentioned that Nevena could skate Cullen assumed she meant Nevena could stay upright and go forward at speed without crashing. It turned out she could do that and more.

After making a couple of circuits on the ice, as if to get comfortable on the skates, Nevena's legitimate skill became very clear. She made circuits going backwards, watching out for other skaters behind her and weaving in between them without tripping and without hesitation. When space allowed she jumped small distances, hopping off one skate to land on the other. A few times Cullen watched her go into fast spins, drawing her arms into her body and spreading them again to go back into a normal forward skate. She was quick, and agile, and wore an expression of pure joy on her face whenever Cullen glimpsed it.

He took his phone from his pocket and followed her with the camera, snapping a few photographs and recording a short video while he watched. He was not eager to go onto the ice. Snow he could handle, but skating was something he had tried only once in his teens and could not remember enjoying much. The option to skate was there, and he knew it would be a shame to waste the opportunity. He was simply gathering his courage. Even if Dante was proving he had more courage by venturing into the child's area without assistance.

"She's good, isn't she?" Cullen stopped the video he was recording when he heard Arienne's voice. She leaned on the barrier next to him and looked out over the ice rink. Immediately Cullen's guard was up. Since his conversation with Clotilde, there had not been an opportunity for him to talk to any of Nevena's other sisters. He was grateful, given how the discussion with Clotilde went. Ineria and Clotilde certainly seemed to be the least kind of the three. Arienne, at least from what Cullen had seen of her so far, just seemed flighty and excitable, not particularly threatening.

"Yes." He put his phone in his pocket. "When you said she skated at a championship level, I thought you might have been over playing it." He watched Nevena zip past them, blonde hair blowing over her face. "But I can see she really knows what she's doing."

"Did you get some good photos?"

"I think so." Cullen half-smiled. "I hope so."

"Me too." Arienne tucked a tuft of hair behind her ear. "Nevena's never liked being photographed. And we don't have any up-to-date ones of her."

"Oh." Cullen chewed his bottom lip for a moment. "Well, if she's happy with them, maybe she'll let me get a couple printed and you can have a more recent photo?"

Arienne's mouth broke into a beaming smile, "I hope so!" She touched Cullen's arm. "It's really good to see her again. After so long... and only getting the occasional email... I was starting to worry." She looked back over the ice rink and waved. Cullen followed the direction and saw Nevena skating backwards with Matilda's hands in hers, guiding the girl over the ice.

Cullen held his tongue as long as possible, a question almost scalding his mouth with its urge to be asked. "Why did you only start to worry after almost three years?" He closed his eyes for a moment cursing his curiosity and the apparent lack of self control he normally prided himself on. Asking personal questions abruptly was normally not his style.

He waited for Arienne to snap at him, or to tell him it was none of his business. After a few seconds he let out a breath he was holding and chanced to look at her. He saw an expression of disquiet on her face. It didn't suit Arienne at all to look so perturbed and uneasy. She picked the nails on her hands one after the other, shifted her weight and sighed. Each gesture almost made to build up her own courage to speak.

"She stopped skating because of Rick." Arienne said finally. She did not look at Cullen, rather she kept her gaze out over the ice rink. "He wanted her to stop doing a lot of things, and she did. I asked her why once... she just shrugged."

"She stopped skating because of her ex?" Cullen repeated, leaning on the barrier and turning his body to face her. "She's not talked about him much."

"That doesn't surprise me," Arienne smiled a little. "Rick was... bad for Nevena. They were set up on a blind date by our dad, and Rick fell so hard and so fast for Nevvie, it was kind of alarming. She wasn't that interested in him, but our dad kept pushing her to go out on dates with Rick, and she did, to keep him happy. I think she got kind of trapped into the relationship because of dad. She stopped telling us she didn't really like him. We thought she'd just warmed up to him."

His brow furrowed, Cullen adjusted his stance and crossed his arms. He found it odd that Arienne was being so open with him regarding Rick. The rest of Nevena's family seemed defensive about him. To hear anything that was not a resounding compliment about Rick was a surprise.

He did not want to let the chance to find out more get away from him. "Did you like him? Rick, I mean?"

"Not really," Arienne shrugged. She clasped her hands in front of her. "He always struck me as kind of a child. He lived on his dad's money and was certain he was going to inherit from him." She paused and pursed her lips. "They weren't a good match."

"How so?" Cullen arched a brow. He looked out over the ice rink to see where Nevena was. Last thing he wanted was for her to over hear him and Arienne discussing her personal life without her knowledge. Somehow he doubted that would go over well. He spotted her still with Matilda half way across the ice.

"Just little things." Arienne said after a lengthy silence. "He was so protective of her... too much, really. Whenever we would all get together, he never left her alone. And he would get upset if she went off to do something without him, so she stopped. He didn't like her skating, so she quit. She even stopped wearing dresses, and shorts in the summer because he didn't like other people staring."

"Is this what Nevena told you?"

Arienne shook her head. "No, this is stuff I noticed. Mum's birthday is in July, and one year it was boiling hot. It was just us, and Nevena was wearing a summer dress, not even terribly revealing and around family..." She laughed weakly. "He looked odd when she came out, and practically dragged her out of the room. I thought he was just... you know," she blushed, "but I overheard him later... I swear, I thought he was going to have a stroke. He was so mad at her."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"I never really questioned it. I thought it was just a one-time thing. I agreed with my sisters, my parents, that he was just being a good partner, worried about her." Her mouth quirked to one side. "Monty and I had marriage counselling a year ago. It was only through that, and personal one-on-one therapy I realised what was really going on.

"I see..." Cullen rubbed his chin. He turned to face out onto the ice again uncertain what to say. If there even was anything to say. This was sensitive information. Information he would have preferred to hear from Nevena, but the more Arienne told him the more he was beginning to understand Nevena's reluctance to talk about her past with Rick.

"I should have put it together sooner. I'm ashamed, really," Arienne told him after they stood for a while in silence. When Cullen looked at her, he could see her cheeks were flush with colour and her eyes were glassy. "When she broke it off with him I didn't support her. I joined everyone else in telling her what a mistake it was." She shook her head, "I even gave him one of her new phone numbers after she blocked him for the third or fourth time. I thought I was doing the right thing."

"Arienne," Cullen sighed bowing his head. He clasped his hands and wound his fingers together. "If you're looking for some sort of absolution or forgiveness, you really should be talking to Nevena."

"I know." She turned to him. "And I want to. But..." She bit her lip and ruffled her hair. "Honestly, I feel like I left it too long. It's been three years. For the first year, I didn't hear from her at all. What if it's too little, too late?"

Cullen released a slow breath and closed his eyes for a moment. How, in the Maker's name, had he allowed himself to become a sounding board for her? He was getting in too deep, learning too much about Nevena from other sources. Even if what Arienne said was true, and Cullen did not want to doubt her, how much of it was embellished and how much of it was underplayed? Nevena and Rick's relationship was over three years ago - how good could Arienne's memory be? How honest and factual could her account be? Was it reliable? Was her approaching him like this a test, to see if he agreed or would buckle? Given how Clotilde spoke to him he was not willing to put such a ploy past her.

He ran his fingers through his hair, scratching the back of his head and craning his neck, stretching. "I don't think Nevena is the kind of person who wouldn't accept an apology. If it's genuine and sincere," he explained measuring each word as he said it. "No matter how much time it's been." Turning to face Arienne he levelled her with a hard stare. "But you should be talking to Nevena about this. Not me. I'm not going to be an adjudicator between you. You're her sister, and I don't want to be in the middle." Cullen hoped his tone added an essence of finality to his words.

Before Arienne could speak again, Nevena skidded up to the barrier her face flushed scarlet, hair a tangled mess and a broad smile on her face. "Come on." She grabbed Cullen's forearms. "Where are your skates?"

"On the ground by my feet," he replied, hoping he sounded as at ease as he was trying to come across. "Where I intend them to stay."

Nevena grunted a little. "Nooo!" she whined, dangling her head back dramatically while hanging onto the barrier. She span on the spot. "Don't be so lame. Come on!" She slid her feet back and forth several times on the ice. She remained in place, while giving the illusion of movement. "It's fun! I've got Matilda skating on her own, and she's never skated once!"

"Matilda is younger than me, and probably less likely to fall over."

"Excuses," Nevena retorted. She fixed him with a stare, and pouted. "C'mon, please? You said I could teach you if we went skating."

"I did, didn't I?" Cullen grimaced a little, while rubbing his forehead. He felt her eyes on him, and Arienne's, both boring into him. Burning right through him. With an exaggerated groan he dropped his hands to his sides, retrieved his skates from the ground and held them up as if to make a point. Nevena grinned, pleased with her apparent victory and almost appeared to bounce with excitement. She skated along the barrier, following Cullen as he went to an area where chairs were set up and skaters were either removing or putting on their skates.

After wrestling with the skates for a few minutes, disliking how the rentals pinched his heels and his toes all felt crammed together at the end, Cullen gingerly put one step on the ice. He held the barrier in tense fingers, feeling unsteady, like he would slip over at any moment. That feeling did not decrease when he put the other skate on the ice and inched forward without moving a toe. His grip on the barrier only increased in pressure and he could not bring himself to be even a little embarrassed about his trepidation.

Nevena did not help. She giggled about five feet away though - to her credit - tried to hide her amusement behind her gloved hands. When Cullen felt steady on his feet, or at least as steady as being on ice could feel, he glared at her.

"You're not helping."

"I'm sorry," Nevena pushed forward towards him. "You just look so afraid of the ice."

"I've skated once."

"We all start somewhere!" She shrugged her shoulders. "Okay, so try to stand up straight..." Nevena nudged his back. "Keep your knees soft, it'll give you more control about direction and balance. But back straight, bring your bum in..." She leaned back. "You're going to have to let go of the barrier eventually."

Cullen narrowed his eyes slightly and glanced between her face and her out stretched hands. Despite his uncertainty, he let go with one hand and quickly snatched up Nevena's hand in the hopes of keeping his balance. After a few seconds, he did the same with the other hand. He shuddered on the ice, skimming his feet back and forth to try and balance. He felt utterly ridiculous. Even as he grasped her hands he knew he must look like a fool. He was almost bent over at a ninety degree angle, his body practically parallel to the ice.

At least his knees were bent.

"Okay, we're going to start moving." He watched Nevena's skates slide back and forth. She skated backwards gently pulling him with her. The barrier was still within arm's reach and each time Cullen's skates slipped a little he felt an over whelming panic and an urge to grab the edge of the rink to save himself from falling. Nevena held his hands gently but firmly. He could snatch his hand away if necessary, but she was in total control of guiding him. "Can you move your feet?"

"What'll happen?"

She laughed, "You'll create your own forward motion. It's just a pushing one skate at a time to the side to give you the projection." They began to follow the bend at one end of the rink. Cullen tightened his hold on Nevena's hands. "Try and stand up."

"This position feels fine."

"I know it does, but if you fall over in that position you're going to hurt yourself. You have more control over speed and movement by standing up right." Cullen's skates slipped over the ice as he tried to follow her request. He straightened, though could still feel he was lurching over a little at the waist. He saw Nevena checking behind her for people as she skated them both around. "Better?" she asked, glancing at him.

"I feel very stupid," said Cullen.

"Don't be harsh on yourself." Nevena slowed their speed a little and moved them a small distance from the barrier to go around a pair of younger children skating together. "When you skate on your own, you'll want to keep your arms out for balance."

"That's hilarious. I will not be skating on my own."

Nevena turned her gaze on him, determination etched on her face, "Oh, ye of little faith."

Over the course of two hours Cullen was able to find his own feet on the ice. Though not a hobby he would ever take up in the long term, he was beginning to see the attraction. It was good exercise, and a careful mixture of balance, weight, and concentration. He crashed into the barriers whenever he needed to stop - still not able to stop independently - but he considered skating at all to be quite an achievement. He never strayed far from the barriers, still automatically going to reach for them when he felt himself wobbling, and Nevena never strayed far from him. She skated within arm's reach and seemed to have a sixth sense for when he was feeling shaky. Every few minutes as he skated alone she took his hand to take the pressure off so he could fix his posture and not worry so much about the impending fall onto the ice.

He had yet to fall. But it was coming. He knew it was coming. It was inevitable.

The transformation of Nevena here was immense. Much like when they went skiing, she was a different person. Here she was bright and effervescent. She was in her element and it showed on her face how much she was enjoying herself. There was no hint of the meekness and uncertainty he saw in her around her family. Even knowing her sisters and parents might be watching, on the ice she seemed to forget that she was under their critical gaze and she could relax.

The end of the ice rink which was cordoned off for young children was the part Cullen disliked most. There was no barrier from one side to the other, and that interval looked like an ocean and felt like it took a year to cross. He saw it coming up and flexed his fingers in anticipation. He followed the other skaters, shaking on his feet and turning at a wide angle. A young woman crossed in front of him, too close for his liking. Cullen tried to move out of the way, one skate slid out from under him. He reached for Nevena, grabbed her hand and in the time it took to blink found himself flat on his back on the ice and staring up at the grey sky.

He groaned, feeling a pain in his lower back. He could breath though, so clearly wasn't winded which he was grateful for. His hands were empty though and he patted them around blindly until he found the head and shoulders of Nevena, half way down his torso.

"Are you okay?" Nevena asked, lifting her head and pushing her hair out of her face. "That was quite a fall. Anything hurt?"

"My pride," Cullen said. "And my tail bone. Sweet Maker, that hurts."

"Ice does," Nevena remarked. She placed her hands on either side of Cullen's head and leaned over him. "I think you'll live to fight another day."

Cullen rolled his eyes. Then a roguish smile came to his lips. "You know, Miss. Trevelyan, we really should stop meeting like this," he teased, chuckling softly.

Nevena lifted her brows, clearly surprised by his attempt at playfulness. She tutted a moment later, "well, Mr. Rutherford, how else am I meant to react if you insist on falling for me"Ugh." Cullen grinned.

"Bad?"

"Terrible."

"My work here is done," Nevena poked her tongue out.

Cullen laughed, pushing himself up onto his hands. One of the stewards skidded to a stop as Cullen sat up right. Nevena leaned back and the steward helped Cullen to his feet. He went for the barrier and held tight. The steward offered a hand to Nevena and Cullen watched her rise onto her knees and then to her feet. A look of pain shot across her face and she gasped.

"What's wrong?" asked the steward, putting himself between Nevena and Cullen as he brought her to the barrier.

"I must have landed on my ankle," Nevena explained.

Cullen pushed off from the barrier and skated around the steward to be the other side of Nevena so she now stood between himself and the steward. "Can you put any weight on it?"

"Not really." Nevena's cheeks were pink with embarrassment now. "It might just be twisted."

"Best get off the ice, take your weight off it," the steward told her.

Cullen saw Nevena's face fall. He had witnessed how much she loved the ice rink, and skating, and it was clear how much she did not want to leave it. She placed her right foot on the ice adding her weight and quickly removed it, gasping. "We can come back." Cullen said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "We're here for a while yet."

"Yeah..." Nevena forced a smile. "I know."

"Best to get off the ice and make sure it's nothing serious," the steward added.

Nevena gave a resigned nod, her brows knitting together in a mixture of frustration and suppressed pain. "Okay." She looped one arm around the steward's shoulder and the other around Cullen's taking all the weight off her right foot. He slipped an arm around her waist, bringing her tight into his side. Together they escorted her to the nearest exit in the barrier and off the ice.

It did not escape Cullen's notice how all the enjoyment in Nevena's face and body seemed to drain away as soon as they hit solid ground. He removed his skates and pulled on his shoes in silence, almost able to feel her disappointment ebbing off her. He knelt down in front of her and began to unlace her boots.

"It's okay. I can-"

"Let me." Cullen lifted his head to look at her directly. "In case there's swelling." His fingers paused in the laces, stopped by the brief glimmer of a grateful smile that flitted across her lips.

"Thank you." Her shoulders sagged.

Leaning up on his knees, Cullen pushed her hair out of her face with one hand. "Any time." For a few seconds, time seemed to stop completely and he found he was torn. Torn between the laces in her skates, and the shape of her mouth. How kissable it looked, her lips slightly parted. It wasn't just her lips that tempted him, he realised. It was everything about her as he peered up from the ground. Open, honest eyes, the flush to her cheeks, the way her hair was touseled, messy, and framed her features.

He could feel the thud of her pulse in her neck increase the longer they stared at each other, neither one breaking the gaze as it lengthened moment by moment. Her breath hitched when Cullen accidentl brushed her lower lip with the tip of his thumb. Her eyelids fluttered and he felt her beginning to lean forwards moving closer to him.

The gleeful squeal of a child shocked him and he suddenly remembered where they were and their situation. The fog that invaded his mind lifted suddenly and Cullen broke the gaze, turning his attention back to her skates and her laces. He shook her head to clear his mind, and his stomach relaxed. When he glanced up at Nevena, breathing in deep, he saw her gaze was no longer on him. That she was staring into nothing and she was chasing her breath as if it was helping her centre herself.

Maker - he was tempted to kiss her. The tips of his ears and his neck were burning. He needed to get a grip, to be reasonable and stop his fanciful thoughts before he followed through with thim. Nevena was a client, just like any other client.

Whatever he felt for her, it was fake. It was all fake.