Just don't think about it, Serena reminds herself with each step. Don't think about falling, don't think about Giants or humans behind, don't think about whatever danger may lie ahead. She inhales slowly through her nose, watching the ground directly in front of her feet. She tries to keep her eyes on Adan's tracks instead of the steep drop to her right, and occasionally she even sees vague hoof marks too.
If a huge horse can do this, there's no reason I can't. Still, each step is an effort, forcing herself along the narrow path. Her calves and thighs and feet ache already from the miles they've traveled since sunrise. She's never walked so far in her entire life, and it's not even long past midday. Despite the high sun, it feels as though the steady wind blowing down the mountain is sweeping right through her clothes.
She's pulled her hands mostly inside the sleeves of the oversized shirt—though not too far since she's supposed to be keeping her hands free— but her left hand feels numb as she trails it along the rough rock of the mountainside. She clenches her jaw as another frigid gust slips down her back, leaning more toward the rock wall.
Serena has never considered herself to be afraid of heights, but until now she's never had a reason to be. The towers of her home in Corsecant are all enclosed, and even the walls between towers have crenellations along them. She's always felt safe there, and now she finds herself wishing she was back home on those very walkways rather than here.
Serena shakes her head slightly and focuses on carefully placing each footstep. They've gone at this pace for at least half an hour, and the path still doesn't seem any closer to ending. Adan is somewhere in front of her. She hasn't had much interaction with him all day, but she's starting to wish he would keep closer. The few times she's risked looking further ahead, he always seems so distant.
The scuff of a boot behind reminds her of her other traveling companion— who is definitely not distant. She imagines she can actually feel the ire of Sir Edmund against her back, chafing at the slow pace. All morning he's pushed them to move faster. Though she understands the urgency, here on this daunting path she knows she's not moving as quickly as the Wolf and the knight could move on their own. She hears what sounds like a sigh from behind her and clenches her jaw more tightly. Perhaps she could try to go a bit faster.
Serena takes the next steps a bit quicker, and it doesn't end in disaster. She decides that maybe she can do this, and continues more quickly across the thin coating of snow. She's still leaning slightly toward the solid mountain to her left, but– almost giddily– she thinks, maybe this mountaineering business isn't so hard.
When her right foot lands on a patch of ice, though, and slips off the ledge into the open air, all her positive thoughts evaporate. Every thought except the certainty of falling leaves her as she twists on her left foot, scrambling to catch herself on the rock wall. When that foot loses what little grip it had, too, she's certain she's done for and throws her arms out in a final effort to grab anything in reach.
Her right hand thunks against leather armor, the pain barely registering before an arm wraps tightly around her waist, forcing the breath from her lungs as she's yanked backwards. The dark gray of Sir Edmund's shirt blocks her view of the open air, and a second later her shoulder blades slam into the rock wall. She has no more breath to leave her, and her chest aches for want of air.
Her forehead connects with Edmund's shoulder a second before the back of her head hits something that's much softer than rock but still snaps her teeth together with the impact. She can feel her heart racing as she slides down the rock wall. It's only enough for her feet to touch solid ground, but every muscle in her body recoils, pressing away from the danger. Hot tears pool in her eyes as she gasps in one shaky breath after another. She squeezes her eyes shut, feeling off-balance and dizzy even though she's no longer moving.
It's not until Edmund shifts slightly that Serena considers their closeness. Her brain sluggishly registers that his arm is locked around her back, hand wrapped in the loose fabric at her side. His other arm is between her head and the rock wall it should have collided with, the leather bracer having left a much smaller bruise on the back of her head than she could have had.
Edmund's head, pressed against his forearm, is unnervingly close to her own. She can hear his ragged breaths near her ear, and the air around her face is warm with both of them breathing in such close proximity. His breath brushes the hairs that have come loose from her braid, tickling the side of her neck.
She shivers, and Edmund's grip on her shirt suddenly loosens. Serena unclenches her hands from his sleeves, letting her arms fall uselessly to her sides. The cold air surrounds her as soon as he pulls his arm from behind her back, and she presses against the frigid rock as Edmund straightens. With his left arm still braced behind her head he turns slightly to stare down at the sheer drop-off she almost became intimately familiar with.
Serena shivers again and backs her heels right up against the mountain before looking down — only then realizing Edmund's right boot is still positioned in front of her feet. Some snow has been brushed off the path, but other than that there's no sign of what just transpired. Serena quickly wipes at her eyes, taking a moment with her face covered to force a long, slow breath into her lungs.
"Why do you walk on your toes?" Edmund questions suddenly. Serena drops her hands, clasping too-long sleeves in her fists, but her mind is still reeling from nearly falling off a mountain.
"What?" she finally asks, dragging her gaze away from the drop off. He's still close and she has to tilt her head back to look up at him. He looks away, frowning at the ground for a moment, before gently pulling his arm from behind her head.
"When you walk," he says, glancing past her. Serena glances down the path as well, but looking ahead just reminds her that they'll have to start moving again. She blinks hard, trying to ignore that thought for now, turning instead to what he'd asked her.
"I don't know what–"
"You shift your weight forward," he interrupts, "onto the front of your feet." Serena looks down at her makeshift shoes with a frown. She wiggles her toes, feeling the restriction from the silk slippers she's still wearing inside the fur and leather. The balls of her feet do feel bruised— so maybe he's right, or maybe it's just all the miles her feet have suffered through today.
"Does it matter?" she asks. Why are we discussing how I walk? She can't decide whether she's more irritated or embarrassed as she looks back up at Edmund. Instead of replying, though, he takes her wrists and carefully pulls her to face him on the narrow ledge. She keeps her feet as far from the side as possible, still wary of falling.
"You lead with the front of your foot," Edmund says slowly, and she squints up at him. Still holding her wrists, he demonstrates, lifting one foot and stepping on the toe. He glances up at her, but Serena is just staring at his foot now. Edmund lets go of one of her wrists and runs his hand through his hair, resting it on the back of his neck for a moment and then glancing past her again.
"Which is fine," he continues, "If you're walking on a flat surface, but you can't–" He cuts himself off with a frustrated sound and gestures to her feet. "There's not a lot of grip even with the cords. You need to lead with your heel." He picks up his foot again to demonstrate, this time setting his heel down first and using a sort of forward rolling motion to plant his foot. Serena squints at his boot, shifting her weight from the balls of her feet to her heels.
"I didn't realize before, but then you got farther ahead of me," he adds with a shaky exhale. Serena continues to stare at his boots, but then she sucks in a sharp breath.
"I'm sorry," she breathes, eyes widening as she looks over the edge again. She had been trying to move faster, but she'd nearly fallen and had he hadn't been right behind her at the time. She feels her heartbeat pick up again with the renewed fear of what might have been.
"Don't," Edmund replies quietly. He reaches out and pats her awkwardly on the shoulder once, and then uses both hands to carefully turn her around. "Just fix it," he adds, "and let's keep going." He drops his hands from her shoulders, but he doesn't back away. She shifts her weight again, tracing along the path ahead with her eyes.
It doesn't look any less terrifying or difficult, but she can feel Edmund behind her, waiting for her to take the next step. Despite the pressing need to move on, he's letting her take the lead. She realizes now that he probably wasn't chafing at her slower pace— at least not on this precarious trail– and clearly rushing wasn't a terribly great idea.
Shaking her head slightly, Serena inhales deeply and then takes a careful step forward. It takes a lot of effort to walk the way Edmund had demonstrated, just because she hasn't paid so much attention to what her feet are doing since starting dance lessons more than a decade ago. Slowly, though, she starts to feel like she's getting it right.
"Good," Edmund says after a while. Serena can tell from his voice that he's still close behind her, but she feels a surge of pride anyway. Her steps do feel more solid, too, walking this way. The muscles in her shoulders relax slightly as she continues, and a small smile grows into a grin, stretching her stiff, windburned cheeks for the first time in several days.