A Promise Through The Bars: The First Series

by Lemon Leopard

Princess Snow White, a title dead to her, is imprisoned one fateful night. For twelve years, she struggles to survive in her cell, slowly losing her faith, her hope, and finally her will to live. Just as she is about to end it all, a woman named Sara is thrown into the cell near hers. Sara asks Snow White to do her a favor. A favor that may change everything.

42. Chapter 42 New Year's Eve

Chapter 42 New Year's Eve

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I'm asleep, yet I'm awake. Familiar arms still hold me in the black void, embracing me in warmth. Even as my body becomes paralyzed with sleep, my mind keeps busy. The crackling fire tickles my ears. He whispers his foreign prayers above me. Something touches my heart. It is not that intense heat from before, but it is gentler. It tempts to soothe me. It lingers at the wall of my heart, knocking softly, asking to be let in. Fear fills me. I tremble. I turn away and try covering my ears to silence—whatever is pestering me!

It persists, still rapping against me, pleading with me to let it in. It is not malevolent like Wendigo. It is good. It wants to give me something—something which this world cannot give.

His arms tighten about me. He presses his mouth against the top of my head, muffling his whispered prayers. His heart beats against my ear in synchrony with whatever is knocking at my heart. Whatever is knocking at my heart, it wants to wipe away all my tears.

"Ursus," I hear him say and utter more foreign words I do not know…yet something knowing stirs in me. I'm not sure whether the mysterious visitor knocking on my heart is Eric or some higher power—perhaps Ursus himself—but it begs me to not be afraid. It only wants to give me something which this world cannot give. I only have to let it in. That's all I have to do to obtain this precious gift…but to let this good stranger in, I would have to have faith in it. I would have to trust it completely. That—I may as well sprawl myself out before Ravenna, close my eyes, and wait patiently for her killing blow.

My heart crumbles. How freeing it would be to trust in this good stranger completely. Fear would no longer rule my life. I could finally love the man holding me and praying over me. He would finally have the honesty he craves from me. That honesty would lead to closeness. That closeness to intimacy, and that intimacy to unconditional love. Yet if Eric cannot forgive even his own father for twenty-seven years, what chance do I stand? Eric knows he would be better off if he forgave, yet he chooses to hold onto his bitterness and anger…he will never forgive me. I turn to the good stranger persisting outside my heart. Without speaking, I tell him to leave. My fear has kept me alive for fourteen years. My fear is the only thing I can trust implicitly. Leave me now and go back to wherever you came from.

The good stranger stops his gentle knocking…Silence…yet I sense him still there lingering outside. Eric continues his foreign prayers into my coif. The good stranger cannot leave. He came to me at Eric's behest. He can only leave at Eric's behest.

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After what seems an eternity of struggling to put my mind to rest, my mind finally drifts into the black void—his arms pull from me and his body disappears from mine, taking his warmth with him. The cold swarms me, rousing my mind and body from sleep. My eyes open as leather scratches across stone. Eric sits up beside me, his face coming over mine. The fire casts its golden glow across half of his face, hiding the other half in shadow.

His blue eyes see mine and he frowns. "Close yer eyes, lass," he whispers, brushing his thumb across my healing cheekbone. Leather scuffs along stone and furs rustle on the other side of the fire until whoever else is up falls silent, leaving only the crackles and pops of our campfire.

I do not close my eyes despite how heavy they are. "Where are you going?" I ask, my voice hoarse with exhaustion. I grab his wrist tightly, praying to keep his touch on my cheek for as long as I can.

His frown lessens as he strokes my cheekbone with his calloused thumb, the backs of his fingers strikingly soft and cooler against my cheek. "It's my turn for watch. Now close yer eyes," he whispers. He stoops to me, his warm breath touching the tip of my nose and my mouth. I close my eyes and breathe in deeply, taking in his scent of earth, leather, and smoke. His warm mouth presses on my forehead. I breathe out of my mouth, disappointment deflating my chest and shoulders. Why did he not kiss my mouth instead?

He pulls back and whispers some warm but foreign words against my forehead, though he says, "Ursus," among them.

"What did you say?" I whisper and force my eyes open part way.

He pulls back just enough to look me in my eyes, his gaze softer than anything I have ever seen. "I said, 'Ursus, give her the peace that cannae be found in this world'." My eyes widen. My heart grows too tender and struggles to find its next beat. That is what the good stranger sitting quietly outside of my heart wants to give me. Peace. Peace which this world cannot give.

My eyes sting. My throat tightens. I see it in his blue eyes. He also does not have this precious peace. I tighten my fingers about his wrist, feeling his pulse thump steady and strong beneath my fingertips. It's bold, perhaps wrong, but I want him to have this precious peace. I will never have it as I will never bring myself to choose it, but more than anything, I want him to have it. "Ursus," I whisper his name, so foreign to my tongue, "please give Eric this precious peace."

His eyes open more with surprise. His mouth parts and he blinks once, disbelief in his face. My heart swells with so much that it threatens to burst open at the healed scars. I turn my head and carefully, gently kiss the backs of his fingers. I was aware of him praying over me in my sleep, pleading with his god to give me something which this world cannot give. To learn that it is peace he wants me to have…I want to love him. I want to do right by him. I want to utter my true name now, but that…I…I cannot lose him…just as he said he cannot lose me.

He cups my cheek and turns my face to him. A small sound escapes me just before he presses his mouth to mine. My eyes close. My free hand cradles his cheek. The pulse in his wrist quickens beneath my fingers. We both push, deepening our kiss and parting our mouths. My heart claws its way into my throat. How dearly I want to love him, but that…that would mean an end to this. To all this. If I loved him, I would start by breaking this kiss. Then I would confess my true name to him. Then I would confess that I knew it was Wendigo who came over me because I had savagely butchered and consumed the body of his beloved wife with stones and parts of bricks. Finally, I would tell him of the evil I had welcomed into my heart. If I loved him, all this I would do and say no matter what the ramifications will be. Tears sting my eyes. I clench my eyes tighter, fighting to hold them back.

Our kiss lessens as he starts to ease back, drawing my lower lip between his warm mouth. My heart retreats back into my chest and sinks so low. I wish I had the strength to love him. I wish I wasn't such a coward.

He steals his mouth from mine, ending the kiss. I force my eyes open, meeting his gaze that is still softer than anything I have ever seen, but there is something else stirring in the blue depths. What, I wish I knew. His mouth parts with a sudden breath in. The breath catches in his throat, stopping whatever words were about to spill out of his pinkened mouth. He closes his mouth and swallows hard, a painful look nearly twisting his face. My heart lurches for him, but falls short and crashes on my spine.

"Try to sleep," he whispers and reluctantly takes his hand from my cheek. I hold onto him for as long as I can while he sits back and pushes himself to his feet, stealing his cheek from my right hand and his wrist from my left hand. My arms drop on my chest, my fingers clenching handfuls of the vest Torrance had given me.

He towers over me like a bear on his hind legs, but there is nothing frightening about him now. He looks down at me for a breath. Two breaths. He suddenly smirks and nudges his boot against the side of my bottom. "I'll be back."

I force the biggest smile I can for his sake, though it's barely a smile. "I'll be waiting," a thought suddenly springs to mind, swelling my heart with playful desire, "my huntsman," I whisper.

His eyes widen with surprise, but a pleased smile quickly replaces it. Never have I called him huntsman before, but it seems…kinder than calling him hunter. Somehow.

"My huntsman?" He grins bigger. "I kind of like that, but instead of callin' me huntsman, say my name."

My brows furrow. "Eric?" I say slowly. Is that what he means?

His grin turns into something impish. "Eh, close, but who's Eric am I?"

I feel my eyes widen. Sinful heat floods my cheeks and my loins. He chuckles down at me, trying in vain to keep himself quiet so as not to wake the others. He nudges the side of my bottom with his boot again. "Remember when ye swatted my arse with yer stick?"

"That was!—" I bite my tongue. Damn, that was loud! "That was an accident!" I hiss, my whole body blazing.

He snickers at me. "Accident or no', I'm gonna return the favor when ye least expect it."

"Eric!" I give him my best scowl, though it feels more like a pout than a scowl. It doesn't help when my eyes flit all over his rugged body. My heart quickens and it grows harder to breathe. My mind goes wild with the memories of his muscular, tan thighs and his taut stomach and strong chest with all those scars. It takes even more liberties with the parts I have not seen…well, sort of seen.

He winks down at me. "Night, lass," he whispers.

I clutch my bound chest tighter, my eyes darting to those bear-sized hands. They're so warm and rough, proportionate to his size, yet filled with that gentle strength of his that no one else has. Those hands that have killed, yes, but they have protected me, provided for me, and caressed me. To have one of those on my breasts—I force my eyes up to his smirking ones. Get a grip of yourself! "I'll be waiting for you," I whisper, my voice cracking.

His smirk gives way to a gentle smile. "Sleep," he says and he steps over me. He grabs a torch out of the fire and starts for the darkness. I turn my head and watch him tread deeper into the darkness of that tunnel, his torch providing him a small bubble of light. He glances back at me, catching my gaze. I watch him with a yearning body, yearning heart, and yearning soul until he disappears around the bend. I sigh. He said he'll be back. The day that will change—Don't think of it now, Snow. Don't…though that is easier thought than done.

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Despite his request, sleep doesn't find me this time. I toss and turn, fighting to keep my eyes closed until the men stir and start breaking down camp. Finally! I open my eyes and sit up, more than awake. Day thirty-seven.

"Good morning gentlemen," I say, looking at Torrance and Locke as they busy themselves with packing up their supplies into their packs and bags.

Torrance looks up from packing his satchel and gives me that handsome grin of his. "Good morning, my dear! You seem in an amiable mood!"

I nod eagerly, returning his smile. "I'm just happy to be up now. I could barely sleep." A horse nickers, drawing my eyes to the horses tied to the dwarven hitching posts. Wessel throws his saddle onto Phoebe's back and tightens the saddle straps beneath her belly.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Torrance says, frowning.

I shake my head and wave off his concern. "Do not worry about it, Torrance. Let me help all of you pack."

The healer smiles again. "Thank you, my dear!" I smile at him and roll onto my hands and knees and start rolling up my bedroll. "Oh, and happy New Year!" Torrance says. "I almost forgot that once this evening passes, it will be the start of new beginnings."

I slow in folding my bedroll. My smile and my heart grow too heavy to keep up. Regardless of who kills me or if my heart fails me, by this time next year I will be dead. My heart beats harder. I used to think of that with such ease, but…I want to live. What I begged of Eric in that dark forest was what truly laid in my heart. I want to live—but if I had not given Eric most of my heart, he would have—we both would have died out in that snow. It was Ylva who heard Eric's thoughts and battled through the snow to find help.

I finish rolling up my bedroll and tie the straps tight. God, that seems so strange, but how else did Wessel, Torrance, and Locke know to come looking for Eric and me? I crawl to Eric's abandoned bedroll and start rolling it at the feet. Worry touches my heart. Where is he? I look around—I stop, my eyes meeting his smiling blue ones as he approaches with his torch in hand.

My heart flutters and those moths stir in my stomach. My eyes dart briefly to something clutched in his other hand. It is something wrapped in linen.

"There you are!" Torrance says. "Good morning and happy New Year!"

I cannot take my eyes from Eric even though he glances at Torrance, still striding to me. "Ye too," he says. He pushes his torch into our campfire and looks back at me, his grin growing, his eyes alight with something hesitant yet hopeful. "Mornin' lass," he says as he finally reaches me.

I tilt my chin all the way back just to meet his gaze. "Morning." I sit on my hip and brace my hand on the ground as he crouches before me.

His smile softens. "Did ye get any sleep?"

I nearly frown, but I manage to keep my mouth up enough. "A little." At least that is not a lie. His smile lessens. "A little is better than none," I tell him. Perhaps that will keep up his spirit. God forbid I drain him of his joy this day.

"Aye, I guess it is." He nods and forces a bigger grin, though I see the heaviness in it. "It's yer birthday today."

A pang enters my heart. How hollow those words ring, but I see it in his eyes. He wants to forget the grief to come and live for now. God, so do I!

I shrug casually. "The more important thing today is that it's the New Year."

He shakes his head, his smile growing lighter, turning truer. "In the north, a lass' birthday is the most important day of her life. The whole clan showers her with gifts on her special day."

My eyes grow wide. "Really!? What about the men?"

Eric purses his lips and bobs his head. "The day we become men is the day we're born. We celebrate that day, but our celebrations are more – smaller."

"Oh…how…" that's so strange, but I dare not say it aloud "...so…do you—" I hold my hand to my chest. "My people believe a boy's birthday is the day he is born, so have you lived more than thirty-seven years!?"

His eyes widen briefly as he laughs and shakes his head. "Nae! Dinnae make me older than I am!"

"Oh good!" I laugh with him, my nerves buzzing too much to let me feel the relief. Already Eric is fourteen, perhaps fifteen years my senior. He's already old enough to be my father! A young father, but a father still. I let my laughter ebb with his. "I'm sorry," I tell him.

"It's alright!" he says with the last of his laughter. His sweet smile lingers. "Any son of Ursus cherishes the best lass in his life." His smile turns to something tender and soft. "Here and now, that lass is ye."

My heart staggers in the darkness, unsure of when to beat next. "Eric," I whisper, his name almost too sweet for my liking.

He sits down before me, nearly clutching the mysterious object wrapped in linen to his chest. He leans to me, putting his face a breath's space from mine. "Lass…nae matter what I say or do, I could ne'er repay ye for what ye did for me out in that snow." He takes my free hand in his, holding me with his gentle strength. "Ye saved my life. I…thank ye…That's all I can say."

My heart shoots up, nearly jumping into my throat, but I swallow it back down. I cling to his hand tighter, fighting with everything in me to not throw myself at him. "I told you already, you owe me nothing! Just you being here…" that damn stinging touches my eyes! "...that's all I want."

His eyes stir with so much, a glint appearing in them. He blinks away the glint in them and tightens his hand about mine almost to the point of pain, but he does not hurt me. He forces a poor imitation of his toothy grin. "Good! Then this will jus' be a wee boon, I hope." He holds his hand out to me, offering me the mysterious object wrapped in linen.

I look down at the object and let out a single, breathy laugh. The object is about the size of his palm. My heart swells too much. I peek up at the hunter, my smile pushing too much into my cheeks. "What is this?"

He raises his brows at me and laughs. "It's a gift for yer birthday!"

I chuckle and shake my head. "Is this something you picked up in Polliard? A necklace or a bracelet?" I pull my hand from his as I sit back on my rump and accept the gift. Whatever it is, it fills both of my hands. Something wooden clacks together within the linen.

He chuckles. "Nae, it's no' from Polliard. It's somethin' I've been workin' on for the past week when I've taken my watch."

"Really?" I raise my furrowed brows at him, my heart swelling more. "You made this?" I look down at the gift and pull apart the linen—my jaw drops.

"Aye…I made them from white oak," he says, the sound of his smile shrinking with every word. "It was the best wood I could afford."

I try moving my mouth, but my jaw is too slack. I cannot take my eyes from the…ten toes. Smooth blonde wood, finely crafted, looking suspiciously fit for my feet. The left set of toes has part of the sole beneath the great toe—the part I am missing from my left foot. There are neatly stitched leather strappings bonded to the toes, perhaps with some sort of hardened resin, like strappings for a pair of shoes.

Eric clears his throat. "It must seem like a – creepy gift, but they'll help ye find yer feet again!" All I can do is lift my wide eyes to him. His smile is gone, replaced with a sheepish look. His eyes dart between the wooden toes and me repeatedly. "I know ye deserve so much more than jus' some, ah…toes. Agh, that sounds creepier! Dammit, me and my stupid mouth!" He scowls at himself and clenches his fists, fighting to not smack himself in the head. Tears prick my eyes. "It sounded good in my head. Ye should've practiced it out loud before, ye stupid…," the rest of his muttering doesn't reach my ears. So much wells in me like a rising tide, flooding my legs, my belly, my chest, my arms. I clutch the best gift I have ever been given to my heart, grab the back of his neck, and crush our mouths together. A surprised, muffled sound escapes him, but he relaxes against me. He clutches the back of my neck and kisses me back.

"Wooh! Now that's a kiss!" Torrance says and laughs. My nerves buzz and I clench my eyes tighter, willing myself to ignore everyone's eyes weighing on us. Locke's husky laughter joins the healer's. Eric stiffens his mouth and grumbles deeply with displeasure. "I told you she'd like those toes!"

Eric breaks our kiss, leaving us both sighing almost simultaneously against each other's mouths. I force my eyes open, meeting his disappointed gaze before he scowls and turns his face to Torrance.

"Yer both arses!" Eric snaps. I frown at him and look back at the two men. They both only laugh more, taking no offense at Eric's insult. Torrance shifts his eyes to me and winks, cooling his laughter some. Eric grumbles something under his breath. I turn my head to him. I know he likes his privacy, but he could be a bit more patient with the men. He did lie to me, afterall.

"Eric," I call him amidst the men's guffawing. He shakes his head at the two men and turns his face to me. His scowl drops, leaving behind nothing but the man…the man I want to love so dearly. I move my hand to cradle his bristling cheek and give him a bittersweet smile. "Now I know why you measured my feet. You lied—" I bite my tongue. A pang enters my heart.

His eyes widen with shock, but there's also playfulness in them. "I didnae lie. I really did measure yer feet so Torrance could measure out the linen, but," a sheepish look overtakes him, "I decided to not tell ye the other reason."

I raise my brows at him. "You decided not to tell me? Isn't that a lie?—There are different ways to lie, you know." That depressing cloud rolls over my heart. Of course I would know all the different ways to lie to someone.

He looks at me for a breath with an amused look and chuckles behind his closed mouth. "Aye, I guess it is. Ye got me there, but it was only to keep the surprise a surprise for ye."

The pang in my chest turns sour. I don't deserve these new toes. I don't deserve him. But God forbid I drain that hope and joy from him now. He wants this moment to go well. So do I. I stroke his cheekbone with my thumb. "This is the best gift I've ever been given." His eyes open up, brimming with such fragile joy. "Thank you. Thank you so much!" My heart nearly bursts out of me. I wrap my free arm tightly about his shoulders and bury my face into his chest, his shirt warm from his body.

He wraps his arms about me and pulls me closer to him. "Yer welcome." He presses a kiss to the top of my head, my coif thankfully hiding my cut hair from him. I try to relax my tense body to savor this embrace, but my stomach knots too much. The thought of him seeing my cut hair one of these days…perhaps I can get away with keeping this coif on and still looking like a man? "Can ye forgive me for lyin'?" he asks with a smile for only my ears.

I manage one breathy laugh, my smile growing heavier with each breath. Tears sting my eyes. Can I forgive him? I wish I was as blissfully ignorant as he is to the gravity of those words. Can he ever forgive me?

I clutch my new toes tighter and cling to him more, grabbing a fistful of his leather coat. "There's nothing to forgive," I say into his warm chest, my shaking voice betraying me.

He lets out a breathy laugh and pulls back from me, taking my face in his hands. "Are ye cryin'?"

"No," I croak and wince. "Damn it!" I hiss.

He chuckles with a closed mouth, though it lacks his usual enthusiasm. "Dinnae cry o'er some toes."

I scoff and roll my eyes, earning his truer laughter. "You seem to be missing the significance of what you just gave me. What you restored to me, really."

He raises his brows at me. "Let's put that to the test, shall we?" He pulls out of my embrace and grabs my ankles, stretching my legs out before me as he scoots back. "Besides, I have my word to keep. Yer gonna dance tonight to yer heart's content." He stops a few feet from me, putting that loathsome space between us.

My brows furrow, hope sparking dangerously in my heart. "Really? I mean, I'm starting to see how your impossible promise is becoming possible, but you're pinning a lot of hope on me. What if I fail? What if I fall?"

His face grows heavier, but he manages an encouraging smile. "Then I'll catch ye."

Something pierces my heart, placing a tap in it that lets my energy drain from me in a steady stream. So many times I've wondered would he be saying all these wonderful things if he knew just one of my lies? I'm certain that answer is no, but constantly fighting the small spark of hope that his answer will be aye instead…Wessel said my happiness cannot survive if it is built on my lies. Is he right?

Eric just looks at me, his face growing more weary with each passing breath. Damn me! Here I am draining his joy again. I force a smile for him, praying to save his smile.

His smile grows, an impish gleam appearing in his eyes. My brows furrow. What devious thoughts is he entertaining now—he yanks me towards him by my ankles! My stomach drops and I yelp and grope the ground beside me for balance's sake. He stops my bound feet just short of his knees, laughing at me almost maniacally.

"Eric!" I try scolding him, though I end up laughing with him. That good feeling I crave so lightens my heart. Happiness.

"What!?" He shrugs his shoulders, feigning a child-like innocence, but his dark eyes and that grin…that tingling blooms in my loins.

I set my new toes on the ground beside me and lean towards him as he starts unwrapping the leather and linen dressings about my right foot. I dare a quick glance at the other men while I start undoing the dressings about my left foot. They are busy with their own conversation and with the task of packing up camp. I grin. Perfect. I peek up at Eric's downcast eyes from under my lashes.

Sensing my gaze, he lifts his eyes to mine without tilting his chin back. "What?" he asks me, failing to suppress his knowing smile.

"I see it in your eyes. I think you're entertaining impure thoughts about me." Heat floods my cheeks, bruising what confidence I do have. I shrink beneath his dark eyes and devilish grin. "Am I mistaken? I mean, the way you pulled me to you just now…" Oh God, what am I saying!?

He sniggers as he pulls the last strip of linen from my right foot. The cold bites into my foot, especially my toes—I don't have toes. "I can assure ye, they're all good thoughts." He winks at me.

I snort and pull the last of the dressing from my left foot. "Good?" I quip.

He shrugs. "They're good to me." He sits back, crossing his legs.

I chuckle. "You might have different standards of good than I do."

He chuckles with me and looks down at my feet. I look down at my feet too and tilt them towards my head—my eyes widen. "Oh wow!" I wiggle my stumps. They are practically healed! There is fresh, fragile scar tissue now holding my feet together instead of the stitches. They are not red with infection. They still look a bit swollen, but that's it!

"That lamia balm works wonders," Eric says. I look up at him, seeing his pleased smile.

My heart brims over with gratitude. "I never thanked you for giving Torrance that lamia bone. I…I can never thank you enough for that." My face grows heavy and falls. Memories of us in Hymark and our scheme of getting back one of his lamia bones, the tavern keeper Eric killed…if he had not killed the tavern keeper, then I would be dead. My promise to Sara would never have been fulfilled.

His face falls, too. "I appreciate yer sentiment, but I was goin' to sell those bones to buy more drink, remember?"

I nod slowly. I remember all too well.

Shame twists his face and he looks down at my feet. "I regret takin' her life…but some good came of it." He grabs the right set of toes off the ground and carefully fits them onto my right stump. I sigh. How did we get here? Again!? A simple yer welcome would have sufficed.

"I was gonna sell those bones to a merchant in Kellslie. We had a good thin' goin' for eight years, but I hadnae seen him since Sara died," he says as he ties the leather strappings about my foot and ankle, not too tight nor too loose. God, I swear I can feel the tunnel air chilling the sweat that formed around my toes from my layers of wrappings. "Ye know I'm a huntsman. That's how I took care of…Sara." He gently, carefully fits the left toes onto my left stump. My heart slows down as it nears that murderous precipice once more. I lift my left foot for him so he can better secure the leather strappings about my foot and ankle. Silence comes between us. An oppressive, cruel silence. Whatever he planned to tell me…he decided against it.

"There!" He hops into a crouching stance and offers me his hand, forcing the most insincere grin he has ever given me. "Let's see if ye can find yer feet now."

I try my best to smile, but it takes everything to lift the corners of my mouth. If he was going to say my family instead of Sara…that crushing ache that I felt only once before crushes my heart again. I loathe to think it, but eight years of marriage…that's more than enough time for a child. His feigned joy starts to lessen. Damn, if I don't play along with him, he'll ask me what's wrong and I don't want to lie to him now. I grab my walking stick—"Try without it," he says.

Worry stirs my gut. "Are you sure?"

His smile becomes a touch real. "I've ne'er been more sure about anythin' in my life. Take my hand."

I peek down at his outstretched hand, his fingers and palm clean. He must have washed his hands recently—or at least this hand. I sigh. With a great deal of effort, I set my walking stick down, my one sure aid that I could trust implicitly. "If I fall, will you catch me?" I gingerly place my hand in his.

His smile twitches. Something flits across his eyes, but he blinks it away. "I already told ye I would. Ye have my word."

Asking him again…that hurt him. I didn't mean to hurt him, but my trust in him…what I wouldn't give to trust him completely. I shouldn't ask him this, yet my heart gets the better of me. "Always?"

He tightens his hand about mine with such gentle strength. "Always."

My heart goes to the precipice once more. I…if I loved him at all, I would pray he break his word to me when he learns just one of my lies. He pushes off his knee with his free hand, helping me to my feet as he rises to his full stature. I teeter back on my feet, my free hand grabbing his arm on its own!

He grabs my elbow for added support. "Remember how ye stood before the frostbite. Lean forward a wee bit."

"But I have no control over these toes!"

He shakes his head at me, smirking. "Ye have more control than ye think. Lean towards me slowly."

I groan, frustration pricking at me. I wish I had my walking stick—but these toes are meant to free me from my walking stick. I'd do almost anything to be able to walk as I used to. I cling to his hand and to his arm tighter and start to slowly lean towards him, pressing more and more of my weight into my soles.

"That's it! Feel yer weight in yer feet. Dinnae stop until it feels natural to ye."

My brows furrow as I continue slowly leaning forward. "Natur—" I halt. My eyes widen. I try wiggling my toes—I cannot wiggle them, but I swear to God I can feel the cold stone pressing into the bottoms of them! I roll my feet all about, minding the twisting of my ankles. There is a comfort in my legs, a steadiness in my ankles. I glance up at Eric. "This feels natural."

He grins wider. "Good. Now…" he lets go of my elbow and takes a step back from me "...try takin' a step."

I swallow and glance down at my walking stick. That ugly thing lies there on the ground, left alone—perhaps soon to be forgotten. To be free of it, to be able to walk and run on my own—excitement fills me. I will be free of that damn crutch! I look at Eric, his waiting eyes downcast on my feet. I take a wobbly step towards him.

"Walk like ye used to," he says and takes another step back, pulling his arm from my grasp.

I exhale, puffing out my cheeks. Walk like you used to, Snow, before the frostbite and the snow. The last time I took normal steps was in that cabin in the old mining settlement. It seems so long ago, but if I can recall how to walk…if I just let my body take over and stop trying to fight it, then perhaps I will recall how to walk with toes. I force my eyes up to Eric, his attention still on my feet.

I swallow. "Look at me, please." He lifts his questioning eyes to mine. I swallow again. "I think it'll help if I just…look at you."

His eyes open up with mild surprise. "If it'll help."

I nod stiffly. "I think it will. I just need to let my body do what it does best."

He raises his brows at me. "Aye, what's that?"

I raise my brows at him. "Move."

A smirk cracks his face. Something mischievous darkens his eyes. "Alright, let's see ye move."

"Tsk," I scoff at him. There's a hidden meaning in there somewhere. I'm just not sure where or what it is exactly, though my sneaking suspicion stirs that sinful heat between my thighs. I take a step towards him. He takes a step back. I take another step towards him. He takes another step back, and I take another step forward. One step back, one step forward, we each take turns. Both our faces light up as it dawns on me. I pull my hand from his and pick up my pace. He stops and turns with me as I circle about him, our eyes never leaving each other.

"That's it!" Eric says. We both start laughing as I quicken my steps, jogging about him as he turns with me. "Look at ye!"

My heart grows lighter. My smile pushes into my cheeks. That bubbly feeling fills my stomach. My excitement gets the best of me. I throw my arms up and take a slow spin as I continue circling about the hunter.

"Torrance, look at this!" Wessel calls, sounding happy.

"Look at that!" Torrance claps loudly, each clap resonating about us. "Now that is the product of my life's work!"

Locke's happy, deep laughter booms about me. "Look at you dance!" Locke says. My heart swells over with pride and gratitude. Gratitude to Locke. To Wessel. To Torrance!

I stop spinning about and run to Locke. Locke's eyes widen with surprise just before I throw my arms around him. "Woah!" Locke yelps, tensing against me.

I pull back just enough and give him an endearing smile, hoping to ease the awkwardness between us. "Locke, thank you for saving Eric."

"You…are welcome," he says, sounding unsure. I laugh and squeeze his waist, his eyes widening at the same time. Despite that awkward feeling squirming inside me, my energy is too much to contain! I pull my arms from Locke and run to Torrance, throwing my arms around him. He laughs above me and embraces me.

"Torrance, I can never thank you enough for everything you've done." I lean back in his arms to meet his smiling gaze. "You have a healer's heart."

His smile turns sweeter. Something glistens in his eyes, but he blinks it away. "I'd do it all again, my dear. You are most welcome." My God, what a good man. He truly has a healer's heart.

"You knew why Eric was measuring my feet," I say.

Torrance nods. "He came to me with the idea."

"Right." I nod to myself and peek back at the aforementioned hunter. He stands there with his head low, but a soft smile shapes that mouth of his.

I step out of Torrance's arms and turn to Wessel. My brother stands there smiling with relief and pride. Pride in me.

"I'm so happy to see you on your feet again without that stick," he says. I laugh with joy and hug him tightly. He laughs with me and returns my embrace. I savor his warmth and his soft, round belly pressing against my front. There's a familial tenderness to it.

I prop my chin on his shoulder, putting my mouth near his ear. I open my mouth, ready to extol him…no words leave me. Knowing what he wishes for me to do, yet he has not pushed me further on it…my smile falls. My excitement goes out of me.

I close my mouth and swallow my excess spit. "You're a good man," I whisper into his ear. "Far better than me. You'd never turn your back on those who need you."

Wessel pulls back suddenly, meeting my gaze. His smile is gone, too. He only looks down at me with forlorn and yearning. "You're here for a reason. I feel it in my bones."

I frown at him. He doesn't need to say the rest aloud. You are here for a reason, child. You are being called. Heed it. The blind dwarf's words echo in my head. For these past fourteen years…I should be dead. Sara said it herself. Two years ago, she told me that I should be dead, but I am meant to find freedom, to bring my people hope…my people…

"Eric's right about you, you know? You have a good heart," Wessel says and lets go of me. "Don't lose it."

I let my arms fall to my sides. "That's easier said than done."

"It'll be easy for you, my dear," Torrance says and pats my shoulder, pulling my eyes to him. He looks at Eric and Wessel and points at them. "You both should dye your hair before we get moving."

Wessel sighs while Eric speaks. "Aye, we'll be gettin' out of the tunnels this morn." His boots scuff across the rock as he comes to me and rests his hands on my shoulders.

"Is your white man paste ready now?" Locke asks Torrance. Eric's fingers tighten about my shoulders, though he doesn't squeeze my right shoulder as hard as my left.

Torrance turns to the easterner, beaming with pride. "Why yes it is! Let me get that and the dye!" The healer turns and ambles off to his buckskin stallion still tethered to the dwarven hitching post. My hands twitch, wanting to touch Eric's hands. I turn my eyes to Eric—I catch Wessel's eyes so full of disappointment. Disappointment in me.

Torrance rushes back to us with two small black vials in one hand and a bowl of white paste in the other. "Here you are!" he says as he hands one of the black vials to Wessel and offers the other to Eric. His hands linger on my shoulder a fraction too long. I grab the bowl of paste from Torrance, hoping to distract from Eric's lingering hold of me. Eric sighs above me and releases my right shoulder to take the last vial from Torrance.

Torrance grins excitedly and rubs his hands together. "Get to it, all of you! After I witness another product of my expertise, we'll eat! Ha! How ironic!"

"What?" Eric grumbles, his hand sliding from my left shoulder and down my back before it vanishes.

Torrance smiles bigger. "It's the New Year, and the three of you are going to look like new men!"

"ASS!" Locke snaps. Torrance only laughs and claps Locke's shoulder in good humor.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

"So…" I…I cannot look away.

Eric laughs nervously and runs his hand through his wet black hair! "Is it that bad?" he asks.

"Nono!" I shake my head and grab a lock of his damp, yet dry hair between my fingers. "I only stare because it's so…different." I roll his hair between my fingers, the many strands smooth and thick. He has shaved his jaw nearly clean too, regrettably. I try to put on a pouting face. "I miss your sunkissed hair."

He laughs. "The dye'll wash out eventually."

"Eventually," I say with a honeysweet smile. Eventually, I'll be dead. The sweetness runs from me, nearly dragging down my grin. His smile starts to fall! I will not steal his joy again! I force my smile into my cheeks, an idea sparking in my mind. "Kneel," I say.

His brows furrow with confusion, his smile half there. "What!?"

I raise my brows at him and grab his shoulders. "Kneel! I want to braid your hair." God knows I cannot braid mine.

His brows shoot up with bemused laughter. "Braid my…alright," he says slowly, hesitant. Disappointment creeps in. Is he not—He kneels before me, his head level with my chest. A bittersweet pang touches my heart. He did not want to kneel, but he knelt down—for me.

"Thank you." I tip my head to him graciously.

He gives me a small grin. "Jus' keep the braids, uh…discreet," he says for only my ears, pleading in his eyes.

My face scrunches up. That bubbly playfulness fills my belly and pushes laughter out of me. "Huh, really? I could have sworn you said any proper son of Ursus braids their beards and shaves the sides of their heads."

His smile widens with several breathy chuckles. "Aye, we like to braid our beards and shave the sides of our heads. Our lasses like to braid their hair."

My smile falls some. "Oh…" We. Our heads. Our lasses. He used to dissociate himself from his former clan. I recall the times he almost referred to himself as part of them, but he stopped himself. He didn't stop himself this time. What changed? My smile falls more. My heart grows heavy. I know he longs to return to his homeland, but the thought of him going so far away from here…from me—I shouldn't have demanded to braid his hair. It was a horrible, stupid idea. "Eric, I don't have to braid your hair—"

"Nae, please do!" He gives me a bigger smile and grabs my left arm, clinging to it. "Ursus disnae care about what we look like, but only for our hearts. Besides, some of us lads braid our hair."

"Us?" The word is out of me before I can stop it. I force my smile higher despite that foreboding sense stirring in my gut.

His smile shrinks some, the beginnings of understanding in his eyes. "Aye…" His smile finally falls. "They are my people." His people. Not mine. "I know that when I spoke of 'em before, I removed myself from them, but…," he grips my arm almost to the point of pain, but he doesn't hurt me, "...I regret that…Thin's have changed. Ever since I found ye in that dark forest—"

"You want to try to go home?" My eyes widen, the sting growing behind them. Those words flew out of my mouth.

His eyes open up and soften. "Aye…" he frowns "...I would like to try someday…" His gaze grows hesitant. His hold of my arm tightens and loosens, tightens and loosens.

My mouth grows too heavy to keep level. I lost my smile already. He doesn't need to say it. He wants to return to his homeland with me. Even though he never outright said it back in Vilgard, what else could he have meant when he said that I deserve to be taken in a bed that is ours beneath a roof that belongs to us? My stomach knots suddenly. The thought of Eric—as my husband—I shake my head of the thought and the growing pang in my heart. I do not love him, but if I care for him in the slightest, I must encourage him to return home. Without me. How could he even return home with me when I'll be dead by the next New Year anyways?

I manage to lift a smile. Somehow. "You should try to return home when you can. It's where you belong." I step behind him quickly and pivot on my heel to face his back, barely catching the hurt in his eyes. I comb my fingers through his hair, catching a few tangles. He hisses when my fingers catch a larger tangle. I wince, my heart stinging. "Sorry," I whisper. I grit my teeth and work as gently as I can with his hair, doing my best to pull apart this particular knot of hair without tugging on his scalp.

"It's alright," he says for only my ears. God, Eric wants to return home someday, but what about his father? Has he forgiven the man? I don't see how he could have let go of nearly thirty years of anger and resentment in one day. Then again, his homeland is probably large enough that he could live far away from his father and not have to deal with him. Or his father could be dead. There's too much I don't know.

I finally unravel the knot and comb my fingers through his hair, catching no more nasty tangles. There's silence between us. God, it's deafening. Deafening with…everything. I sigh and select a small section of hair just above his left ear. Any excitement for the day to come, any energy, any…it all drained from me. It has left me hollow, heavy, exhausted. I separate the collection of dark hair into three strands and begin weaving a small, discrete braid. I've mulled over all of this again and again. It won't do me any good thinking over it all again.

"It's no' hopeless," he says suddenly.

My fingers still, my eyes widening, my mind stirring with confusion. "What?" Strangely enough, a quiet has come between us.

He starts turning his head, but he stops when his braid pulls taut. "Ye said it back in Vilgard. All this…" He lifts his hand, gesturing to—everything. These dark, dank tunnels that belong to the dead. To this dead kingdom. To this doomed world. He drops his hand. "It's no' hopeless. I understand where ye are now. I was there before I found ye in that dark forest." He laughs suddenly. "Ye know it's funny. Ever since Ravenna took over, that forest was the first to die. I'm no' sure what delvir she invited to take o'er the forest, but whoever she invited, it brought with it the darkness of hell. That's why that forest is so dark. That's why many who venture in there dinnae make it out alive."

"Oh my God," I say and continue braiding his hair. "But you went in before you made that deal with Ravenna to—find me." There's no need to say the more frightening words.

"Aye," he says, his voice barely louder than a whisper. "I did once before. That was after Sara died. I left all my weapons at home and brought plenty of ale with me. I was hoping somethin' would finish me off." I swallow hard. "The delvir, or the wolves, or the blighted, or even the damn oulinders! But none of them ever found me. I made as much noise as I could. I went into every cave, squeezed under every tree root, and breathed in every damn black blight shroom spore I could find! I covered that whole forest five times. The ghosts haunted me constantly, but nothin' ever harmed me…I know now that someone was protectin' me. When I realized that I couldnae die in that forest, I left and tried to find other ways to kill myself—"

"Eric!" I do not want to keep hearing about his endless endeavor to end his—I don't even want to think it! To think that I considered it when he was comatose…My guts twist with shame and horror.

He turns his head the other way, catching my stinging eyes with his. There's so much in his eyes. So much. My heart aches dearly. "Lass, all I'm tryin' to say is that when I went back into that pitch black forest, I never thought I'd find light."

My fingers still, already at the end of the braid. He suddenly scoops his hair together and ties it with a leather strip at the nape of his neck, stealing the finished braid from my fingers. He stands and turns to face me, towering over me like a bear on his hind legs. I have to tilt my chin all the way back just to keep my eyes with his.

He grabs my arms and holds them with his gentle strength. "I found light in the darkness. I found hope. That light, that hope—that's ye." Tears sting my eyes, threatening to fall. Guilt twists my heart. If he knew just one of my dark truths, he would not be saying any of this. His eyes shift back and forth in mine, searching for something. He searches and searches, but the more he searches, the more his face falls. "Hope does for life what despair does for death. It keeps it goin'. I know ye hope in a lot of thin's. Sara gave ye that, but I'm askin' ye to hope in one more thin'. Hope in us."

I gasp in a shuddering breath. Tears well in the corners of my eyes and threaten to fall. What he's asking me to do, it's…desperate and shameful. A touch pathetic, too. To throw all his hopes and dreams onto me even after I told him quite cruelly that he is my friend and nothing more…he still presses and hopes for more…I want to love him. I want to hope in him and in us. I just don't see how he could ever forgive me for just one of my lies when he has not forgiven his father for twenty-seven years years! Eric may be the most compassionate man I know, but he has no mercy. He hates lies. How much more will he hate me when he learns that this light, this hope that he found in the dark forest is a lie?

"Eric!? You two almost ready!?" Torrance asks. "We're nearly packed!"

Eric sighs and forces his eyes up over my head. "Aye, we are! C'mon lass." He pats my arm and turns me about, pointing my toes towards Ylva. He presses his hand into my back, urging my steps along with his. I heave a sigh of relief. Thank God Torrance interrupted when he did. I do not feel like crying today. God and I both know I have wept enough to fill a lake.

We reach Ylva and stop.

"I got ye somethin' while we were in Vilgard," Eric says while he steps past me and unties his rucksack from Ylva's rump.

My brows furrow, a sneaking suspicion in my gut. "Don't tell me." A smile lifts my mouth when he drops his rucksack on the ground and opens it up to dig through it. "You made me another gift!?"

He laughs as he pulls out a pair of dark brown leather boots and wool stockings! "No' quite," he says. My eyes nearly bug out of my head. "I bought these from a lass who happened to have spare boots and stockin's. I know they're no' new, but they'll keep yer feet dry and warm." The boots are worn and the stockings are tinged yellow with the years, but they are the finest boots and the warmest looking stockings I have ever seen!

"Eric!" I say his name and laugh with joy. I drop to my rump clumsily and reach for the stockings! My feet are chilled enough from this damn tunnel. He hands me the stockings with the biggest grin and watches me as I pull one on and then the other. I barely see how ridiculous I look with them half over my trousers when I notice my feet. They…have a normal shape. They look like normal, intact feet that have never seen frostbite. I try wiggling my toes—I can't, but I swear I can feel the wool stockings scratching them! God, I can feel them tingling as warmth starts to return to them!

"Dinnae forget the boots," Eric says, offering me the boots.

"Oh yes!" I snatch the boots from him and stuff my new feet into them. My brand new feet that Eric gave me. "Thank you! Thank you so much!" I nearly cry.

Eric chuckles. "Yer welcome."

My heart beats harder for the man crouched before me, but the weight over it continues to grow. My eyes twitch with the need to look at him. I shouldn't look at him. It'll spare us both the pain. In the end he is going to hate me. Perhaps he will hate me more than his own father.

Despite my best efforts, my chin tips back and my eyes search for him. They find those blue eyes and become ensnared. My heart pounds on my sternum and on my spine and into my lungs, directionless. It wants to flee. It wants to stay in my chest. More than anything it wants to be rejoined with the life that is fused to Eric's heart.

Eric forces a big grin for me and takes my hand in his. "Let's enjoy today. We both deserve a day at least."

"A day," I find myself saying. I need this day. He needs this too. Why he continues to stick with me when depression always takes me over, I'll never know. Perhaps he is a glutton for misery and punishment. Whatever the case may be, I can put aside my guilt for one day without regret nor feeling guilty for it. He's right. We both deserve a day at least. That day is today. A true smile comes to me. I squeeze his hand. "You're right. We both deserve this day."

His smile grows and his eyes light up. "There's that smile I love!" he says and kisses me. We both smile into our kiss. The elation and joy of today fills me to the brim.

He ends our kiss too soon and stands with me. "Let's get this day started," he says with a grin. He lets go of my hand only to grab his rucksack off the ground and secure it to Ylva's back. He takes my hand in his again and takes Ylva's reins in his other hand. He clicks his tongue and the three of us start walking. We pass by Torrance as he stuffs the last of his breakfast into one of his saddlebags. Wessel and Locke are already ahead of us lighting the way with torches.

"C'mon Torrance, or ye'll get left behind!" Eric teases him.

"I'll be just after you!" Torrance says. "Lovebirds," he murmurs and winks at me, grinning ridiculously at us.

My smile grows heavy. God, I cannot let the guilt get to me now! Eric is right. We both deserve this day. At least this day.

"It'll be a good day," I say aloud. To convince myself.

Eric glances at me, a knowing smile playing at his mouth. "Yer wrong."

My eyes widen and my smile drops. "What!?"

His grin grows. "It'll be a great day."

I snort and roll my eyes at him. "Oh God!" I can't help myself from laughing. His laughter joins mine and mingles with it. A fuzzy warmth fills my chest and those moths flutter about in my belly. We squeeze each other's hands almost simultaneously, though he started squeezing a fraction before me.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

The air is lighter. Locke and Wessel chat with each other, their voices louder than any of us have been these past two days. Torrance paces himself and his horse at the end of the group. The healer hums an unfamiliar tune, the notes bouncing off the tunnel walls. Our horses' hooves clop like thunder claps. My stomach stirs with worry at all the sound we're making, but my hand is still in Eric's. That alone is a comfort. I peek up at him out of the corners of my eyes. There's a faint smile on his face. He perks up suddenly, as if sensing something. He peeks down at me from the corners of his eyes. His smile pushes deeper into his cheeks.

My smile turns sweeter. He knew I was looking at him. I snort to myself and shake my head. He finally shows some teeth as he chortles. How silly this all is, both of us acting like we are…God, like we are lovesick adolescents. That dark cloud threatens to come over me again. No, we both deserve a day at least. Just one day.

"Ye look exceptionally beautiful today," he says suddenly.

Heat flushes my cheeks. "What!?" I ask, laughing.

He chuckles and brings my hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of it. The back of my hand tingles into my wrist, stealing a breath from me. "I mean what I say," he says. He lowers my hand and stoops to me, pecking my cheek. I barely get to enjoy the bristles of his scruff before he straightens. "We're almost outta these blasted tunnels."

"Really!?" Excitement courses through me and forces my back straighter.

He nods and tips his head, gesturing ahead of us. I look ahead—a pinpoint of grey light shines ahead of us like a beacon of hope! "Oh my God! Come on!" I tighten my hand about his and take off down the tunnel.

"Alright!" Eric laughs as he runs with me. "Move it! Comin' through!" he says as we pass up Wessel and Locke. Locke's booming laughter sounds behind us as we both race for the beautiful daylight. Our steps pound and resonate all about us. Our laughter decries the darkness surrounding us. That half circle of daylight bobs with each step and grows bigger. My lungs start to burn. My calves start to tighten uncomfortably, but seeing that daylight draw closer to us—hell if I stop now!

We burst out of the tunnels and splash into the snow! The chilled winter breeze hits us, but it's not brutal. We both stagger to a stop in the knee deep snow, huffing and laughing as we try to catch our breaths. I scan the pristine, untouched snowy expanse and the towering mountains on the far side of the valley. I lift my eyes skyward—blinding light flashes across my eyes, burning them! My eyes squeeze shut against my will!

"Ah, that's bright!" Eric says and laughs more. I bring my hand to my eyes to shield them from the light and peek up at the hunter. His eyes are nearly squeezed shut, too.

"I suppose this is what two days in darkness will do to you," I say, unable to wipe the stupid grin from my face.

He looks down at me, wearing that silly, toothy grin of his. God, I love that smile. "That's right, lassie," he says, his grin unfailing.

"Lassie!?" I chuckle. My heart beats harder for him.

"A name of endearment, I assure ye!" He stoops to me and presses his mouth to mine. This time his mouth lingers as he draws my lower lip between his. My mouth starts tingling with warmth. I breathe out against him and wrap my free arm about his neck. His arm appears around my waist, pulling me closer to him.

Laughter booms out of the tunnel mouth, startling us both out of our kiss. We nearly jump out of each other's arms, but Eric keeps a strong hold of me. He sighs in exasperation and we both look at the three men as they trudge out of the dark tunnels and into the day with their horses, the snow crunching beneath their steps. The men squeeze their eyes shut against the daylight and bury their torches into the snow, extinguishing them. My eyes widen. Locke looks quite different with his pale skin. Perhaps a bit odd with his fuller lips, but the white paint does its job. Ylva comes out after the men, nickering as she ambles about them and comes to Eric and me.

Locke's laughter starts to die as he looks at us, his eyes seeming to adjust faster than Torrance and Wessel's. He shakes his head at us in amusement, still laughing.

"What!?" Eric asks him, exasperated with Locke's endless teasing.

Locke shakes his head at us. "It is good you have her and she has you." His laughter ebbs. "That kind of companionship is not often found."

My smile drops. My heart grows quiet and my eyes tingle.

"I know," Eric says, pulling my eyes to him. He looks down at me and smiles, something so tender in his eyes…I want to be happy with him, but knowing…knowing that I am willfully turning my back on my people…if I make it to Hammond's fortress alive and if what Wessel claimed about Hammond's men is true, they will wage war against Ravenna and her host of black glass knights to retake Tabor. Each man would fight to the bitter end…in my name…in the hope that it will be me on that throne and with William as my husband and my king.

That dark cloud rears its head again, threatening to steal this day from Eric and me. I grit my teeth. No! Eric and I both deserve this day! My guilt is not going to take it from us! I force a smile for him despite the fact that he should not love me.

Eric's grin starts to falter. That weighs on my mouth. It's in his eyes. He knows that my smile is a lie. He used to fall for my forced grins, but now he doesn't.

"If nobody minds," Torrance says, "I know a place where we can make camp and properly celebrate tonight!"

"We're nearby that oasis," Eric says, his eyes lingering on me. My brows furrow. What oasis?

"That's exactly where I was thinking," Torrance says with the sound of a grin. Eric should turn his head to Torrance…yet his eyes fail to leave me. My eyes fail to leave him.

"Sounds good," Eric says, his grin lightening. "Lead the way."

"With pleasure." Snow crunches beneath boots and horses' hooves as the three men trudge further into the valley. One of the horses' nickers. Another neighs.

"What oasis?" I ask.

Eric's smile softens as he steps back out of my arms. "It's a nice place hidden in some woods." He finally tears his eyes from me and turns to Ylva. He strokes her forehead with his hand, his fingers buried in the tuft of black mane reaching down half her face. "It's got some waterfalls and a wee lake. Besides, we need the wood—"

"It has waterfalls!?" I blurt out, my sudden excitement snatching me. A smile grows on my mouth.

Eric chuckles and turns halfway to look at me, smoothing his hand down to Ylva's snout. "Ye want to see them?" he asks, smiling.

I nod eagerly. "Yes! I've never seen a waterfall! I always wanted to see one! Let alone more than one!"

"Hmm," he hums, and his smile falls some.

That dampens my excitement. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sure the falls are completely frozen now." His eyes sadden. "Ye willnae get to see the water fall."

"I don't care about that!" I shake my head, eagerness filling my body to the brim. I nearly bounce on my new toes. "Whether the water falls or not, I'll get to see them! Come to think of it, I might like the frozen falls better!"

His face lights up. "Really!? I hope so."

A chuckle escapes me. "You have no need to hope in that." I must look ridiculous with this huge grin pushing into my cheeks, but I cannot get rid of it. "I'm going to love them, I know it!" This must be the most honest smile I ever had.

A smile comes to Eric's mouth, so unlike anything I have ever seen. A few breathy chuckles leave his parted mouth as he shakes his head at me. It's a smile of disbelief, of belief, of relief, of joy, and of reverence. He leaves Ylva and takes me in his arms. My arms wrap about him and my heart soars. I can only laugh to relieve some of the energy in me. He's overjoyed. He's overjoyed to see me so happy. God, how good this feels. My happiness brought him joy. He may even have a greater capacity for happiness than me.

As my laughter ebbs, he says, "I gotta get ye to those falls. C'mon!"

He grabs my waist and lifts me to put me in his saddle! "NO!" I say, halting him.

His brows furrow and he sets me down in the snow. "What is it?"

I let out one breathy laugh and pull his hands from my waist. "I have too much energy! I have to walk, I have to run, I have to use these new toes, these new boots you gave me! Come on, Eric! Ylva!" I grab his hand and take off with him through the snow. Ylva nickers and trots after us through the snow.

Eric, Ylva and I pass up the others on our way.

"Run, my dear, run!" Torrance cheers. Locke's laughter sounds behind us. Despite the knee deep snow, Eric and I almost fly through it. The snow is unusually light and fluffy. Eric bounds ahead of me and leads the way, helping me along as I start burning off all this pent up energy.

"Jus' ahead!" Eric says. Sure enough, a collection of white trees speckled with black dots sprouts out of the snowy ground like daisies. Where did they come from!?

"And down the hill!" he says. As he warned, we come to the downward slope that was hidden from view. That explains why I didn't see the trees before. We only slow enough to safely shuffle down the slope. Ylva huffs and snorts behind us as she scoots down the hill. Eric and I reach the bottom first and take off into the trees. My calves and thighs start to burn. My lungs start to tighten. I feel myself slowing down, my hand tugging on Eric's. He slows down until our arms relax. My heart softens so much for the hunter.

"We almost ther—" There through the trees is something.

"Aye!" he says, grinning, both of us huffing for breath. He slows down with each stride, forcing me to slow down until we are walking briskly between the trees. As if the curtain parts to let the sun in, the trees seem to part.

"Oh my God," I say, panting for breath. Eric stops with me, his warm hand still clinging to mine. Here we are on the bank of a small frozen lake. Across the lake are…steps for giants. So many cliffs reach up into the mountain side like disorderly steps. Cascading down each step are rippled sheets of whiteblue ice. Some of the ice sheets split apart, revealing the dark rock and the faint streams of water that still drizzle down each cliff face. God, there must be at least thirty falls here!

I've never seen anything…like this. Nothing. The Gastean Sea on her calmest and angriest days do not compare to this. Even the dwarven stars Eric showed me in the tunnels…that was beautiful and heartmoving, but this…the corners of my eyes sting.

"So, what do ye think?" Eric asks.

A single, raspy laugh leaves me. Tears well in my eyes. "You…they're beautiful." I sniffle back some water starting to run out of my nose. "You never said they'd be beautiful! Or this…wow!" My knees grow weak and wobble. I grab hold of Eric's arm. Anything to keep me standing.

Eric grabs my other arm and upholds me. I finally manage to tear my eyes from the frozen falls and look up at him. His eyes are the only blue thing in this dreary, colorless world. The only thing more beautiful than those dwarven stars and these frozen falls are his eyes.

"I'm glad ye got to see these," he says, smiling down at me.

I drag in a chilly, shuddering breath. "You're showing me the world, Eric." I try so hard to keep the tears back, but they well too much and spill down my face.

"Good," he says and takes my face in his hands, brushing my tears away with his rough thumbs. I grab hold of his wrists. My heart pounds on my ribs, screaming inside to be as close to his beating heart as possible.

"We'll camp here!" Wessel says, his voice farther away. Eric rumbles with displeasure and looks past my head. I sniffle and turn my head, pulling my face out of his warm hands. Torrance, Wessel, and Locke start unloading their horses in a clearing of the woods. Only a few trees stand between us and them.

Locke drops his sack in the snow and turns to us. He waves at us. "You both, come help us prepare camp!"

"Aye!" Eric calls back and sighs. I turn my head back to him, catching his wistful look. "I swear, the new white man cannae leave us alone!" He looks at me and smirks.

I snort and take his hand. "They've got to sleep sometime." I step closer to him, barely brushing my front against his. "Maybe tonight we can steal some time for ourselves."

His smile starts to fade. The times he refused me in that tree well and in Vilgard haunt me, knocking back my confidence. "That is if you want," I add quickly. I shouldn't pray that it's what he wants, but I find myself begging Ursus to sway Eric's heart.

He squeezes my hand and stoops to me, stealing my breath. He pushes my scarf back and brushes his mouth across my ear. "Ye know I'm dyin' to," he whispers. His breath scorches my frozen flesh, sending thunderbolts down my neck and deep into my chest. I suck in a frozen breath.

He pulls my scarf back over my ear and presses a brief, seemingly chaste kiss to my cheek. He pulls back to look at me. There's nothing chaste in his eyes. He suddenly smirks. "Let's go help 'em, keep up appearances," he says as he grabs my arms and turns me about to face the men.

My cheeks blaze despite the winter chill. Who is he jesting!? "What do you mean keep up appear—" Smack. I yelp and jump in the snow from the force of the blow. The sting spreads across my bottom! Torrance and Wessel slow their unpacking when they both look at me. My cheeks burn hotter than the flames of hell. Heat wells in my chest.

"ERIC!" I wheel about to face the hunter.

He stands there grinning stupidly, looking guilty as hell! "I told ye I'd return the favor," he says quietly.

"YOU ASS!" I say. Eric only snickers. I peek back at the three men. Torrance and Wessel have resumed unpacking, both men conversing with each other about where to set things up. Locke is staring at us this time, his brows furrowed with confusion.

"We're on our way!" Eric calls across the oasis to Locke. Locke shakes his head and turns his attention to loosening the saddle straps under his horse's belly. Snow crunches beneath heavy boots as Eric comes to my side and puts his mouth close to my ear. "If ye had no' yelped and called me an ass, they wouldnae have looked this way." His hot breath sends tingles and chills down my body.

I turn my head to him. "Well, I hope you've slaked your desire for undue revenge." Despite the gravity of my words, a smile tugs at my mouth.

His brows furrow, his smile sticking around. "Undue revenge!? That's what ye call it?"

We both start towards the men. To keep up appearances…whatever those are.

"Yes. It's properly named." I lean towards him as we continue trudging through the snow. "By the way, you just started a war."

His eyes widen briefly with surprise and he laughs. "Ye might as well hold up that white banner now."

I give him the snarkiest look I can muster. "You are a fierce warrior, but you're forgetting one thing."

He smirks and looks at me out of the corners of his eyes. "Enlighten me."

We reach Ylva's side and stop. I turn to Eric and hold my hands out, exposing every vulnerable bit of myself. His eyes dance up and down my form. "Men are distracted and led astray by women. You're a man, and I'm a woman." He reluctantly lifts his eyes to mine. I chuckle with satisfaction. "You proved my point before I even said it."

He shrugs and steps past me, untethering his pack from Ylva's rump. "I want to lose this war," he says.

"Oh?" That sinful heat stirs between my legs. Does he…tonight, will he finally stop the waiting and just take me? "Then…" My heart picks up when he turns to me and drops his rucksack in the snow. He towers over me, his eyes dark with that lustful, depraved promise. "I won?" I barely whisper.

He draws in a deep breath, filling his chest with it. His smile is gone completely. "No' yet. Lass, I meant what I said in Vilgard. Ye deserve so much better, and I'll be damned if I dinnae try to give ye that."

Disappointment comes over me. My face and my shoulders fall. He wants to do right by me, and I want to do right by him, but my life is cut so short. I have less than a year to live. It'll take at least seven months to return to the castle to save Greta. God, how can she even survive for that long—No, I cannot give into that way of thinking! She will make it. She has too.

Regardless, it seems Eric has forgotten how short my time truly is. I step past him and loosen the ties to our bedrolls. He comes to my side and loosens Ylva's saddle straps.

"You're a good man, Eric," I say, purposely taking longer to undo the ties. "I will wait…but just remember that everyday could be our last. I mean, the hounds from hell found us and you almost…" words leave me. The memories of those horrible days come back, playing over in my mind.

"Hey," he calls me softly. He takes my hand in his and brushes his thumb across my knuckles. I cannot stop my eyes. They are drawn to him. "Too much has happened. None of this is coincidence or by chance. We've both come too far for all this to jus' end tomorrow."

I cannot help but frown at him. "You said we would take each day as it comes. Together."

"Aye, and we'll have plenty of 'em." He brings my hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it.

My frown deepens. I want to keep my hand in his warm one. I want to, but how else can I make him see the truth and accept it? I pull my hand from his. The cold air nips at my warmed skin. His face falls. That lashes my heart. I didn't want to drain his joy today, but perhaps this is the wakeup call he needs? Perhaps there's a way to keep his joy alive but also open his eyes to the truth? But what do I say? "Eric…" What do I say!? "...just…let's live for today. Let's live for tonight."

His face lifts a fraction, a certain light filling his eyes. "That's exactly what were goin' to do," he says with such resolve that I almost believe him.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

The five of us sit about the crackling fire. Though night has come, it only seems to spur the four men on instead of urging them to sleep.

Torrance sniggers at Locke. "Got to say, Locke, I'm liking the new look."

Locke scowls at Torrance, but a smile cracks his mouth. He ends up throwing his head back and laughing with Torrance. Eric snorts beside me. I peek at him and he peeks at me, smiles plastered on both of our faces.

"It's definitely a new look for Locke," Eric says. "I'm no' sure I'll ever get used to it."

I grin. "I don't know, Eric. He may end up liking it."

Eric bursts out laughing. "That'll be the day!"

I laugh with Eric. Such sweet laughter. Our laughter soon ebbs. I tear my eyes from Eric and look at Locke. "Locke?" I say, pulling his dark eyes to me. My heart brims over with gratitude. "I cannot thank you enough for putting on that paste."

Locke offers me a small smile. "You are a friend of Wessel and of Eric. You have promised to fulfill a great favor for me and my father. All this," he holds his hand out to the five of us sitting about the fire and places his hand on his chest, "makes you my friend."

"Hey, I'm her friend, too!" Torrance smacks Locke's arm, feigning offense, though his grin says otherwise.

I chuckle. "Of course you are, Torrance. Of course you are." I shift my eyes back to Locke. "Your words mean alot to me, Locke. Thank you."

Locke inclines his head to me. "You are welcome."

Torrance taps Locke's arm, pulling the easterner's attention to him. I look about the campfire, my eyes stopping on Wessel. He sets aside his drink and picks up Gus' lute. He supports the lute in his lap and plucks at a few strings, testing their sound. He twists the knobs at the end of the arm while he keeps plucking each string, changing the pitch of the note until he smiles with satisfaction.

"Here," Eric says, his voice so close to my ear that I turn my head to him. He gives me a soft smile and nods down at his outstretched hand. My eyes drop down to his hand, a full skin in it. "Let's get some drink into ye."

I snort and grab the skin from him, my body craving this a bit too much. "I thought you were trying to be a better influence on me."

Eric laughs while I pop open the cork. "Tonight's different." He grabs his own skin of ale out of the bag he had gotten in Vilgard and pulls out the cork. "I think that after all the shite we've been through, we both deserve to cut loose."

"Cut loose?" I raise my brows at him. "How loose?"

Something downright devilish fills his eyes and broadens his grin. "Jus' enough for ye to have some fun."

A familiar tune reaches my ears. It brings a rush of sweet memories that warms my heart. "I know this song!" I look at Wessel, a smile pushing into my cheeks.

Wessel peeks up at me, grinning, and nods.

"How?" Eric asks. The song steadily grows louder and faster, each note leading to the next so naturally that I hear Torrance humming the tune correctly even though he never heard it before.

My smile pushes into my eyes. "Wessel and I wrote this song together." I turn my head to Eric. "We made a pact that he'd only play it while I was around."

Wessel starts singing our song, his voice soft and soothing to my ears.

"Come on, Locke!" Torrance says. He pats Locke's arm in my periphery. "Sing along, sing along!" Torrance urges Locke.

Eric's grin softens. "I didnae know ye wrote a song."

"I wrote a lot of songs, actually…" my smile falls some "...though that was during these last fourteen years. I forgot most of them." I tear my eyes from his and look at the fire. Damn it! I'm sure I stole his smile now. Wessel keeps singing with Torrance and Locke, though his voice is by far the best of the three. I wish hearing them sing would take away the sting of forgetting, too.

The air shifts as Eric leans closer to me. "No' alot of ink and parchment in prison," he says softly.

My head bobs in agreement. "I found some white stone that let me write on my cell walls, but I was afraid that white stone would run out if I wrote down just one of my songs. After Sara—" I bite my tongue. Damn it, why does depression get me so easily!? Hell, I may not even deserve this day, this night, but Eric deserves this.

"Ye kept track of the days," he says. That voice inside warns me to not look at him…yet my eyes seek his out and find them. His smile is gone and his face is heavy, though not with as much sadness as I would have expected. "I saw yer cell and all those white marks on the walls. I had a hunch then of what they all meant, but I wasnae sure until now." He reaches for me and takes my free hand in his. The warmth of his hand grows about my hand like a building fire. "Even before I found ye in that blasted forest, I knew I was lookin' at the testament of someone who wanted to live."

My brows furrow. A pang grows in my heart. "If that's what you saw, then why…" Who am I to talk? He wanted to get Sara back. He didn't know if I was truly a criminal or not. He practically asked me the instant we both escaped Finn and those black glass knights. Eric opens his mouth to respond—"Nevermind. You've answered this question a hundred times over," I say. I avert my eyes to the fire again and start draining the ale. It stings its way down my throat, leaving behind its bitter taste, but all that will fade when the buzz comes.

"Hey, go easy on that." Eric grabs my wrist with a steady but demanding pressure.

Embarrassment—no, shame burns its way through me. I spit the ale in my mouth back into the skin and pull the rim out of my mouth. "I'm sorry," I whisper and keep my eyes on the rim. The rim, wet with my spit, catches glints of the fire.

"Dinnae apologize." He lets go of my wrist and squeezes my free hand still clutched tightly in his. "It's just that drink feeds whatever yer feelin' and makes it larger than life. I want ye feedin' yer happiness, no' yer shame, which ye did nothin' to warrant that feelin' anyways."

Somehow, his words lighten the load on my heart and soothe the burns of my shame like a cooling balm. I manage to lift my gaze to him.

He smiles down at me gently. Tenderly. "Lass, I found ye when we were both desperate as hell. Ye wanted to live and I wanted to—" he catches himself and forces his smile bigger. I let go of a steady breath. Not saying it…it makes it easier. For us both. His smile starts to relax with authenticity. "What I'm tryin' to say is that's the past and it has nae bearin' on us now. If a lad really wants to, he could turn his life around. He could go from bein' a damn scoundrel to bein' a saint, and that'd make him a saint. His past is his past and it will always be his past, but he's free from it because he chooses to be and tries every moment to be a better man. Sound familiar?" Hope brightens his blue eyes.

My brows furrow. His words tug at something deep inside, something that I know. I just can't pinpoint what it is. "I think I…agh!" I grit my teeth. I remember telling him something. I was trying to convince him of something. God, the memory is right there! Why can't I recall it!?

"Nae lad is bound by his past unless he chooses to be. Remember tellin' me that?" He raises his brows at me. "At the tree well?"

It hits me suddenly. "Yes! Yes, I remember!" I grip his hand tighter and scoot about to face him more. "The tree well, we were…you were telling me about how you met Sara and—" I stop myself. We are not the only ones here.

His smile softens, understanding in his eyes. "Aye," he says simply and nods.

Another realization hits me, though this one strikes me with a stuporing awe. "Wait, you…what you just said…you believe that?" That damning hope sparks in my heart. God, Ursus, whoever is listening! Please don't let this be false hope. Please!

Eric nods once. Twice. He smiles again. "Aye," he says, his voice barely audible over the singing and boisterous laughter. Torrance and Locke are already drunk. Wessel is singing louder than usual.

"Look at them," Eric says and nods at the three men. Somehow, I manage to tear my eyes from the hunter and look at them. Locke and Torrance sit side by side, arms draped over each other's shoulders, swaying side to side and back and forth as they mumble and hum Wessel's song.

"Say what you want! HUZZAH, HUZZAH!" With each huzzah, they thrust their aleskins up in the air. I look at Wessel.

"You cannot tame me, you cannot break me! I'll rise like the phoenix, reborn and VICTORIOUS!" Wessel sings with Locke and Torrance's rambles and babbles, swaying with the music as he strums away at Gus' dwarf-sized lute.

"HUZZAH, HUZZAH!" the three men chant. I suddenly snort. How did I not see it before!? Wessel looks silly! This big, hulking man plucking away at that little lute! Yet somehow he can play it without striking one wrong chord! My cheeks tingle with warmth. Oh boy. The ale is starting to hit me.

That gruff, deep rumble of Eric chuckling reaches my ears. It sends a shiver down me, creating this—surreal rush of cool through heated excitement. I look at the hunter, catching the last of his chuckles and undying smile. A smile pushes into my buzzing cheeks. A smile I cannot get rid of. Nor do I want to.

His smile grows into that stupid, toothy grin of his. "There's that smile I love! That ale hit ye at the right moment!"

"It sure did!" God, I need to keep this going. This excitement, this joy. I need to get a little looser. I bring my aleskin to my mouth and take a dainty sip, trying to be as ladylike for Eric as I can be. My eyes fail to leave his gleaming ones. He chuckles again and takes a swig from his aleskin, his eyes staying with mine. My heart hammers wildly in my chest. Those moths flutter about in my belly with such thrill. I keep my eyes with Eric's as I take another dainty sip of my ale, though I end up drinking more than I mean to. As soon as the rim leaves my mouth, Eric keeps his gaze on me as he downs another gulp of ale. The movement of his throat pulls my eyes downward. I watch that bump of his throat settle back down as he lowers his skin. It's so…fascinating…and attractive. I set my aleskin down gingerly so as to not spill it and bring one fingertip to his throat. I barely touch him, ghosting my fingertip over that bump. His skin is so soft here, yet he is so rough everywhere else.

"What're ye doin'?" Eric asks, laughing. The bump rumbles against my fingertip with each beat of his laughter.

"It's just so…fascinating! Is this why your voice sounds so good!?" I stroke more of his throat with two fingertips this time. His skin is so soft here, yet there's a bearlike, inhuman strength hidden behind it. Such gentle, godly strength.

He chuckles, rumbling his throat perfectly. "My voice sounds good?" he asks, sounding hopeful.

I can't help giggling and snuggling against him. "It's so deep, so manly!"

Eric drops his cheek on my head and laughs hard.

"Uh oh, the ale is getting you now!" I rub his throat with four fingertips and grip the side of his neck, marveling at the soft skin and the sharp bristles of his shaven jaw.

"It's no' the ale! It's ye!"

My eyes widen. "What!?" I lean back, pulling my head out from under his cheek. He looks down at me, still wearing that silly toothy grin of his. "Are you sure!?" I ask him over the men still singing away. Wessel is playing a different song now. One I am not familiar with, but the others seem to know it.

He nods. "Aye," he says simply and ducks his head, stealing a sudden kiss from me. He pulls back and springs to his feet before I can blink, nearly tugging on my arm. He hasn't let go of my hand this whole time. "C'mon, let's dance!"

"Now!?" Now doesn't seem right. Yet I find myself clambering to my feet, my world a touch off kilter. He wraps his arm about my waist, pulling me flush against him. My whole body comes to life. There's…no other way to describe it. I grab his shoulder with my free hand. My chest isn't really heavy, yet somehow the simple task of breathing becomes a concentrated effort.

He starts moving, stepping back and forth and side to side. I try desperately to move with him, but I step on his toes a few times. "Sorry," I say.

He only laughs and shakes his head. "I know ye can move, but jus' follow me this time and let go! Have fun! Enjoy yerself!"

"Enjoy myself! Have fun! Alright, I think I can do that," I say, earning more of his laughter. I let go. I let the music flow through my body. I start humming the song Wessel is strumming away on Gus' lute. I follow after the hunter, placing my feet where his had just been.

"That's it!" Eric says. His praise makes my heart soar. He steps back out of my reach suddenly, but he never lets go of my hand. "And a wee spin for the lassie!" he says and spins me about with my hand above my head, not too slowly nor too fast. We come back together and I follow after him, but I let the music move my legs, my hips, my head, my arms. I hum the notes of the song with surer confidence, the tune very intuitive. Eric, too, joins my singing by humming the notes loudly. We both crack into giggling at our humming.

"Another spin!" I plead.

Eric laughs and obliges, stepping back from me and spinning me about the opposite way two times! The joy, the fun becomes too much for me to contain. I giggle and laugh as we meet again. We step and spin together and hum together. The music moves us both.

"Sing!" Eric pleads with me, grinning that silly toothy grin.

My cheeks burn. "I don't know this song."

He laughs. "Sing whate'er ye want! Sing the most ridiculous thing ye can. I'll sing with ye." He starts singing, "Sing whate'er ye want, HUZZAH! HUZZAH!" He laughs.

I can't help but laugh with him and sing, "I am quite anxious to be contagious!" My cheeks burn more as we laugh harder still. "Not with illness or plague, but with joy and elation!"

"I like that!" Eric says, grinning. We end up hugging each other and swaying. Swaying and dancing and spinning and laughing and singing random words into the night—a tooting sound cuts through the music, stopping it cold. We stop dancing. The singing shuts up. I pull back and look up at Eric, catching his wide eyes. He shakes his head at my silent question. He returns my question with his eyes.

"Wasn't me," I say. "Oh!"

We both look at Wessel. Wessel stands there, his cheeks rosy. I don't think that's from the heat of our fire. "I ate beans for you," Wessel says and points at me.

"Oh my!" I burst out laughing. Wheezing and laughing. The others burst out laughing too. Our laughter rings into the night. I cling to Eric and laugh. Otherwise, I might fall on my arse.