Author's Note: Chapters 29 and 30 are a bit slow, but they set up the background for what is to come later. ;)

Gliss and Sled were eating cold soup in the front room of Dewey's home while Dewey listened to everything they had to say and took notes for the books he wrote that kept all fairy knowledge.

Clarion sat in a back room on a wood stool with a rag and bowl of ice water on the table beside her.

"It's not so bad," Milori said from his seat in an ice chair across from her.

"Milori," she warned.

He sighed and pulled off his shirt.

"Milori?" she asked nervously with wide eyes when she saw the bright blue lines across both his chest and abdomen and two purple circles a bit wider than her hands over his chest muscles. Gold specks of sugar had dried over the purple circles.

"Oh," he said with a smile. "It's alright. It'll heal."

"What?" She looked at him in confusion.

"Hm?"

"What is that?" she asked with wide eyes.

"Ah. Blue on winter fairies is a bruise; purple is a burn."

Her brow furrowed. "I did this with the chain and pixie dust, didn't I?" she frowned, eyeing the damage. "Oh, Milori, I'm sorry."

"I'm not going to complain about a few bruises when you kept me in one piece," he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling handsomely.

She gently reached out to softly touch his chest-it was hard and cool.

He flinched slightly and shivers ran down his body. "You're warm," he said with a smile.

"Oh." She dipped her fingers in the ice water for a moment and then dried them so they wouldn't freeze.

"No, don't hurt your hands," he said quickly.

"It's just to cool them down." Then she gently felt his burn again to find his skin warm there. With a frown, she met his eyes.

He was watching her intently, with a soft smile on his face. "Just use the ice water?" she inquired, trying to learn how his body worked.

He nodded.

She dipped the rag in the bowl and then dabbed it on one of the burns carefully.

A deep baritone chuckle erupted from his throat. "Sweetheart, the more, the better."

"But it's too cold for you," she frowned. And then she blushed, realizing who she was talking to. "Isn't it better for you to go in the lake?"

"Not really," he laughed.

"Why?"

His eyebrows rose. "Oh. I thought you knew. Without any talents, I'm not fully a winter fairy. Jumping into ice water would kill me."

Her eyes searched his in horror. "How do you know?"

"Well, I don't, but Dewey suspects that's how it works."

"But, I can't give you back your talents without you coming to the Pixie Tree. And someone is bound to see you there. What if you fall through the ice?"

"Sweetheart, it's alright," he smiled. "Here, I can do it." He reached for the bowl.

"No, I want to do it." She soaked the end of the rag she wasn't holding and then lifted it out, dripping wet. She glanced at him, hesitating. "Alright," she said reluctantly and set it on his skin.

He sighed and closed his eyes.

She pulled off the rag instantly. "Does it hurt?"

Catching her hand, he smiled and held the rag and her hand against his chest. "You're making me hurt," he teased. "This makes it not hurt."

So she started softly bathing his battered chest. Then she stood and walked around to bathe his biceps, which were only mildly bruised from when she caught his weight in the chains. As she ran the rag over him, she started noticing how well muscled he was-he was far more beautiful than she had imagined. His biceps were as wide as her hands, and lean muscle covered every inch of his bare torso. For some reason, his shoulders seemed broader without a shirt to hide them, she mused. Her heart started beating a bit faster.

He looked up at her with a smile and set aside the bowl and rag. Then he pulled her down into his lap, tipped her back slightly and locked his arms around her. "You look deep in thought, my lady," he said in a low, relaxed tone as he gazed into her eyes.

She swallowed hard and got lost in those blue pools looking right into her soul. This odd feeling of fluttering started in her belly. And then her wings tingled, trying to flutter slightly under her cape.

He frowned and carefully sat her up so he wasn't trapping her wings and pulled up her cape. "Do your wings hurt?"

"No," she answered quickly and tried to still his hand.

A hint of a smile overcame him when he got a glimpse of her wings before she stopped him. "Clarion," he said gently and stroked her cheek. "You don't need to be embarrassed that your wings are glittering again. I love you too, sweetheart," he whispered against her lips and gave a gentle kiss.

"But Bernard will want to know why when he thinks you're dead," she whispered back.

That served like a bucket of hot water dumped over him.

He sat back with a deep sigh. "So we're back to him courting you," he replied with displeasure and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Now, don't get all cranky with me," she said patiently and kissed under his jaw.

"Clarion, I cannot be there to make sure you're alright. If he tries to hurt you, I'll be acres away and won't know," he replied firmly.

"I'm a big girl, Milori. I hate to break it to you, but I survived just fine for years before you came." She kissed the pulse at his neck. How odd, she noted-he smelled like evergreen, his kisses tasted like wintergreen, but his skin tasted like sugar.

"Clarion, I'm serious," he said quietly.

His tone made her pull back and look at him.

"What if he tries to kill you. All he has to do is break your wing and you'll die within the year. You have a will that far surpasses the strength of your body. Yes, you rule all of Pixie Hollow, but your body is more fragile than anyone else's," he said gently and stroked her hair that was still loose down her back.

She looked away.

"Clarion, I'm not trying to be mean-I only want you to be safe."

"I know," she said quietly.

"That includes you not coming to winter so much."

Her eyes flew to him in a panic.

"Clarion, if I break a wing, I can't fly; if you do, it's the end of you," he voiced with grave concern.

"I'm not discussing this," she said heatedly and got up to march to the other side of the room. "I have to go home before Bernard realizes I'm gone." She yanked the door open.

He stood. "Clarion, don't be angry with me for it," he protested. "I don't even know why you're angry. It's to protect you."

She spun around. "Because I don't need protecting!" she barked. "I need someone who will be a partner and let me help fight his fights," she finish, her anger dying down. "I love you."

He crossed the room to cup her cheek. "And I love you. That is why I can't let you go back to Bernard or continue to risk yourself in winter. I'm not leaving you, we just need to think of other options."

She kissed him deeply. "He trusts me, and so he will slip. I can't back out now without him seeing through me."

"No," he said weakly. "You can't go." He swayed and she helped catch his weight when he fell to his knees, knocking over the bowl of water.

"I'm sorry. You'll follow me and who knows what he'll do to you if he learns you're alive to testify against him."

"Clarion?" he asked in confusion as she gently laid him down.

The other fairies came running in.

"I took some pixie dust during the kiss. It was sudden, so you'll be weak tonight. You'll adjust to it by morning. Don't be angry with me." She brushed a kiss over his brow. Then she escaped.