Cassandra

XXIII. A Task Ahead

I had always loved days like this. When the snow was fresh, the air was sharp, and it was refreshingly cold without being frigid. Days like this were for new beginnings, for high spirits, and gay thoughts. The festival only made it better. Everyone shared the cheer today, despite the cold, and still dour city atmosphere. People were willing to forget their troubles and celebrate today. I felt free, less ruthlessly retrained than I had been, as if Silas's oppression and Delilah's manipulation took time to counteract. The good spirits were infectious, and even I couldn't help quietly sharing the sentiment.
    Winter's Crest, after a long cold autumn, and longer colder winter, had finally come, heralding the first real festival Whitestone had celebrated in years. In past days the winter solstice had been one of the main events of the year. Less impressive than what Talebearer and other travelers had described of distant cities, but still the best we could do in our local way, and many looked forward to it. This festival, in comparison with previous ones, lacked a certain pomp. But after the Briarwood's five year oppression, everyone unanimously agreed that absolutely nothing could have been more satisfactory than the few simple decorations that were managed.
    A festive air pervaded the central city square. Several tables had been erected for the purpose of arm wrestling, one of the locals had brought out a performing box, and some old magician's robes, performing parlor tricks for the children. Off to one side of the square was a long set of tables over ran which the legend; Put Your Paunch To The Test! All You Can Eat Pie Contest! Winner Takes 100 GOLD REWARD!!! Waving on a silk banner. A makeshift band of instruments, in various degrees of tune, dominated the other corner, trying to make itself heard over the growing shouts from the arm wrestling tables, where conflict was in full bloom between several contestants. Over all this towered the Suntree, still gaunt and cold, though it looked less out of place because of the winter season, in which it had always been leafless anyway. Several glass ornaments, figurines, strings of paper chains, and silk ribbons had been hung in the tree, delicately covering it's nakedness with their own splendor, respectfully lending it some magnificence once again.
    Quietly I settled under its towering branches, more content to people watch than actually join in the festivities. Because of this I was in the perfect position to watch the antics of several children, who all congregated around the towering tree, to swap snowballs and childish chatter. Three little girls, looking rather mournfully up into the branches, paused under the tree, and I silently eavesdropped their conversation with my face averted, trying not to laugh.
    "Randy promised he'd do it, but now he's too busy arm wrestling." One girl in the middle said, glancing resentfully over at the distant tables, where I could spy a younger contestant in his early teens who must be Randy.
    "It's too bad." Her companion sympathetically murmured. "It would have looked so nice, right up in the top branches."
    "I know!" The first girl mourned, tragically holding up a small ornament made of blown glass against the tree in the background, and gloomily admiring the effect.
    "Why don't you climb up and hang it yourself." The third girl said, less sympathetic than her companion, as if it were mere common sense. "I should think you're tall enough."
    "Noooo!" Was the scornful response. "Climbing trees isn't ladylike. And anyway it's much too tall, I'd be scared of falling, and I want this up at the top of the tree."
    "Well Pelor helps those that help themselves." The third girl said, still unresponsive to the gloom of her friend. "At least...thats what my pa says..."
    "Your pa don't know anything!"
    "Yes he does!"
    "No he don't!"
    A scuffle would probably have broken out at this juncture if I hadn't hastened to intervene, rising to my feet, and interrupting them. I was much taller than they were, and as I stood over them, they all fell silent, looking up at me apprehensively. Two eyes looked up at me blankly, but I could tell the girl with the glass bauble knew who I was, and became almost ridiculously reverent.
    "Give it to me, and I'll hang it for you." I said, holding out my hand. Too flustered to disobey, the girl silently offered her ornament, mouth slightly hanging open. With a few swift well practiced movements, I mounted into the tree, swinging easily from branch to branch. Many times I had climbed this tree, I was well practiced. Finally I reached the upper branches, and looked back down, where the three girls were still watching with open mouths.
    "I want to come!" The third girl said impulsively, scrabbling into the lower branches of the tree, and the second girl followed.
    "What do you think?" I called down to the last girl, who was still standing on the ground, looking rather shamefaced mixed with jealousy. I held the little ornament by one of the branches, displaying it in the gray semi light of the clouded afternoon sun. "Should I put it here?"
    "E-even higher?" Came a hesitant response.
    With a shrug I skipped higher into the branches, and the girl that had followed me first, once again climbed after me.
    "Here?" I called, once again holding out the ornament.
    "That looks nice." The owner said enthusiastically, clapping her hands together, and skipping in the snow.
    Carefully I hung the ornament up, securing it to the tree branch with a bit of wire. Then I slowly made my way down, and the two girls began to descend with me mournfully, reluctant to leave the tree branches yet. But before I could drop to the ground, perched on the lowest branch, I held out my hand to the girl who was still standing on the ground.
    "Get up here," I said commandingly, "other people say you can't climb trees if you're a girl, but thats just what other people say. You don't have to obey them if you don't want to. I'm a girl and I've been climbing all my life."
    After glancing around, as if afraid someone was going to slap her, the girl took my hand and slowly mounted into the tree. Content to let her stay on the lower branches if she wished, I scurried back into the higher boughs, settling on a comfortable branch with a good view of the square.
    The pie contest had started while we'd been talking, and by silent agreement we all settled down to watch. Already the competition had been narrowed to just six determined individuals. Hands behind their back, the six contestants were buried face first in the pie, covered in different varieties of pastry filling, slowly making their way through the enormous pies. Pacing up and down behind them, like circling vultures, on the lookout for signs of cheating, were two cooks in white aprons. As the diners one by one dropped out, either stopping altogether, hurriedly exiting the stage, or ignominiously vomiting their newly eaten pie, the tension grew sharp. At last it was only two men left, that barely finished their pie. One was a plump gentleman in simple working clothes, plowing face first through the pie, with bits of crust and filling smeared across his neck, and occasionally dropping into his lap. The other was a burly man, completely shirtless, exposing bulging muscles, with several layers of pie crusted into his curly chest hair.
    "That's my papa!" One of the girls said excitedly, pointing at the table, where both men had just buried their face in yet another round of pastry, which from the looks of it, were both chicken pot pies.
    "Which one, the shirtless one?"
    "No, no, the big fat one." She returned matter of factly, and she positively glowed with pride as she said, "he can eat anything!!!"
     Cheers rose as the two contestants continued to struggle through the thick meaty pies, all three of my companions joining in, clinging precariously to the branches of the tree. But by this time both had slowed considerably, eating with extreme difficulty. The man identified as 'papa' kept pausing in his eating, looking over at his enemy, as if to spur himself on. Finally both stopped, breathing heavily, their eyes met, and both at the same moment turned an vomited into buckets the bakers gave them for the purpose. Even before they had recovered themselves, one of the bakers turned triumphantly to address the crowd.
    "A Tie for the victors! Both lasted quite a ways. Splitting the profits, that's fifty gold each!"
    Applause rose from the onlookers, even the contestants that had been unable to tough it out, joining in. All three of the little girls climbed out of the tree, the daughter rushing to congratulate her father, while her two friends tagged along behind.
    "Lady Cassandra! I've been looking for you!"
    I jumped at the sound of my name, and looked down. Yennin, dressed in his finest ceremonial robes in honor of the festival, was standing underneath the tree. A few loitering peasants were watching him curiously, wondering if he was going to make a speech for the festival. The same idea flitted through my head, as he beaconed for me to come out of the tree, and I unwillingly made my way downwards. I was shy of attention, but there was no way for me to squirm out of it. The Keeper smiled warmly as I reached the ground, reaching out to take my hand encouragingly.
    "No need to look so worried!" He said bracingly, "I don't bite."
    "I'm sure you don't," I said with an absent smile.
    The Keeper patted my hand, then released me, turning to look out over the square.
    "My friends, if I could have your attention please!" He shouted, voice booming out commandingly over the square. A great deal of shushing began to run through the crowd, as people began to leave their entertainments and assemble, mother's gathering their children together, several youngsters settling cross legged in the soft snow around the tree, causing a bustling hubbub. Several curious looks were cast in my direction, which I shrank under, wishing I could be invisible instead. Yennin finally held up his hands, prompting silence, and a hush fell.
    "Friends, families, brave soldiers and defenders of this city. We gather today to celebrate, for the first time in many years, our own Winter's Crest festival. It is on this day that we remember when Errevon the Ice King, keeper of the far realm of ice in the elemental planes, attempted to tear his way into Tal'dorei, was kept at bay, and sent back packing from whence he came!" A hearty scattering of cheers rose from the assembled crowd, some more drunken than others, several raised mugs of ale in the air, and after a moment Yennin continued. "We also are reminded of family, of friendship, and the bond that we as a people share, keeping ourselves and our families safe. We rise up to the occasion to show true heroism, to stand by our beliefs, and not let the darkness swallow our hope. By that, we are able to bring to you this day the surviving members of the de Rolo family," he beckoned, and Percy extracted himself from the crowd and the clustered group of his adventuring companions. "Cassandra, and Percival."
    Before the Keeper could continue, deafening cheers rose from the people. I wilted under the devotion, instinctively shrinking closer to my brother, as if he could hide me. With a tolerant smile, Percy nodded to the people, acknowledging their support, but he didn't seem to savor the attention much more than I did. Only the heartfelt applause of his friends in the crowd seemed to cheer him, and he cast them a smile of true warmth and gratefulness.
    "These two, among friends Vox Machina, the adventurerers from Emon, spearheaded our freedom from the terrible tyrants that the Briarwoods had set upon us." Yennin resumed, cutting off the enthusiasm of the people, to continue his speech. "So today we celebrate not just our joint friendships, we celebrate true heroism." He turned, looking at Percy, "and give thanks that there are still people who will do what ever it takes to rise to the good of this land. Who in the long run," smiling warmly at me, "know the right choices to make, and in the darkness still choose the side of the light. Let us all raise our glasses to the prosperous future of this city amongst the Alabaster Sierras, and to the continued future of the de Rolo family...HUZZAH!"
    Everyone joined in, drinking long and deep after the cheer. With that Keeper Yennin bowed, and the crowd began to disperse, assuming that he had finished. I began to step away too, but anticipating my movement, Yennin took my arm leading both me and my brother off to the side. Out of the crowd, Percy's friends appeared, all in the midst of having a good time, in their own ways. Scanlan had scavenged a raspberry colored beret from somewhere in the city over the last few days, and had tucked a feather into it, wearing it jauntily to one side. The front of Grog's entire muscled chest, gray skin still exposed even in the winter cold, was sticky with ale. And following last, still covered in bits of pie, were the twins, Vax'ildan and Vex'ahila, clearly besmeared from the recent pie eating contest.
    "If you wouldn't mind a moment of your time," Yennin said soberly to everyone that had gathered. "I think there are a few things we need to discuss."
    "Of course." Percy said quickly, becoming serious himself. Casting a wary look around the still crowded square, the Keeper turned and led the way down a narrow side street. At last he reached an apparently abandoned home, where two guards stood waiting at the door, ready to let us in. The interior of the building, when we were admitted, had obviously been recently cleaned, but was still damp and cold, as if no one had bothered to kindle a fire here in months. Turning to speak at last, Yennin looked us over.
    "There is no real way that we can show our appreciation for what you have done for our people..." Yennin began, bowing slightly as he spoke. "But first and foremost, there are funds within the de Rolo treasury left behind by the Briarwoods, that we hope could help compensate for some of your expenditures and hardships you've undergone."
    "So many..." Vex'ahlia said tragically, closing her eyes as if to hold back tears. "Just...so many..."
    "Understood," Yennin said a little dryly, unmoved by this display. "This is of course at the behest of the de Rolo family, who are the inheritors of this fortune." He nodded respectfully at Percy and I.
    "Thanks Percy." Keyleth said, and he shrugged.
    "Percival," Vex hinted, casting my brother a flirtatious wink. "You're looking very attractive today."
    "I know." Percy said with perfect gravity, as if his majesty was undeniable, and to have answered modestly would have been absurd.
    "Now, we've had a few weeks of peace and recovery, of rebuilding and reforging the real bonds of this society here in Whitestone." Yennin said quietly. "But going forward there needs to be a governing force. I would like to ask of your wisdom and guidance, all of you, in deciding what is to become of the future of this city. We have many options at our disposal. I'm overseeing a myriad of things throughout the town, and as a man of religious importance, given the history..." He paused for a moment, embarrassed, then continued apologetically. "People have recommended it does not behoove me take a position of rule in this town...It would be natural of course for the people, without question, to look to anyone of the existing bloodline. Have you any thoughts on this matter, any of you?"
    "Of our members," Scanlan said soberly, "only this one human over here on his hands and knees, is the expendable one of our group."
    Looking down at the man Scanlan gestured at, I was met at once with one of the two final contestants from the contest. Still shirtless, with pie crust and filling still caked into his thick chest hair, was the broad shouldered muscled man who had tied with the little girl's papa, and earned fifty gold. Instead of standing on his feet, he was crouched on his knees like someone pretending to be an animal, and as soon as everyone's attention was directed to him he shrank back against Vex'ahlia's leg fearfully, letting out a moaning whine as he rubbed the side of his face against the half elf woman's leg.
    "Scanlan!" Vex exclaimed angrily, putting a hand on her strange companion protectively, and fondly scratching him behind the ear.
    "Is that--" Yennin faltered, pointing hesitantly at the man. "Is that your bear?"
    "Maybe." Vex said evasively, her face stony.
    "Yes..." Percy said wearily, removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose.
    "I don't think any of us," Scanlan chimed back in, "but Percy if you'd like to stay and rule..."
    "Freddie, this is everything you've worked towards." Vax'ildan urged.
    "This is your birthright." Scanlan agreed. "You've earned it."
    "It really wasn't my birthright, I was not raised to rule."
    "But you would be a fantastic ruler," the gnome continued to argue.
    "I still have work to do, outside the city." Percy said soberly, sliding his glasses back on, and pacing restlessly as he spoke. "Ripley is still loose, knows far too much, and I feel more than a little responsible for her. Honestly Cassandra had a better upbringing than I did for this sort of work."
    "Well I understand what you're saying brother but--" I began to argue, then cut myself off as I realized we weren't alone, and I blushed. Shaking off the feeling, I seized Percy's arms, forcing him to stand still and look at me, so that I could speak to him more quietly. "I'm still rediscovering who I am...if the people of this town knew what I had done, what I've been responsible for all these years..." I couldn't have said anything more, even if I wanted to. That would have touched on things that were to raw to approach yet, and it was too personal to talk about in front of strangers, so I let my words die.
    "They expect better of us I know," Percy said soothingly, taking my hands. "I understand this, we are held to a different standard, and it's difficult." For a moment his eyes became distant, an all waited in silence as he stood lost in thought. Suddenly his eyes cleared, and he shook himself off, drawing himself up straighter. "Perhaps it's time for a council. Perhaps it's time for shared rule. There should always be a de Rolo in Whitestone, but perhaps we could share the weight."
    "We could..." I murmured involuntarily, hesitatingly agreeing with my brother. "I could..."
    "Yennin, would you be comfortable sharing some of this burden?"
    "Well," Yennin began, measuring his words carefully. "In the sense of a council that you're recommending, that would certainly be a more comfortable position for someone such as myself, and there are a number of community leaders of have really stepped up and shown their true quality." He drew himself up and nodded firmly. "Yes, this could be done. We'd have to ask the people of course, and make sure that it would be alright with the folk. But I think, given the way things have been, it shouldn't be to hard of a sell."
    "Do the de Rolo's still stay in the giant castle?" Vex hinted. "Or does that go to somebody else?"
    "I think the de Rolo's keep the castle--" Percy began, smiling indulgently.
    "I like this plan." Vex declared before he could finish.
    "Wait, would you be on this council, and who would they be counseling?" Scanlan said, frowning deeply, and he turned to Percy "Is there no superior, or primate?"
    "I think what you are suggesting is that we make decisions by council," Yennin said, "by vote."
    "A triumvirate." Scanlan said.
    "If you will."
    "Quintuplet," Percy put in.
    "Oh," Scanlan said, turning to my brother. "Four people?"
    "Five." Percy corrected him.
    "A fladiddy-splat." Grog said, rolling his eyes, obviously annoyed by the many long words that he didn't understand.
    "A flibbity-jibbet!" Scanlan agreed gleefully.
    "A religious leader," Percy said, listing the candidates off on his fingers. "Someone from the farming community, someone from the mining community, someone from the trading community, and someone from the citizenry--"
    "From the gnome community," Scanlan said, cutting him short.
    "From the citizenry--"
    "The gnome community."
    "Citizenry--"
    "Gnome community."
    Percy and Scanlan fell silent, regarding each other belligerently, just waiting for the other to open his mouth. The rest of Percy's friends could barely suppress giggles, watching the rivalry to see who would yield first. But before any more could be said, Percy softened, and he broke out into an involuntary grin.
    "From some Gnome community, yes."
    "I accept." With an elaborate bow.
    "Interests will be thought of," Percy said, turning his attention back to me and Yennin. "And there will always be a noble, to be a tie breaker when necessary, and to judge from a place of greater good."
    Slowly the Keeper nodded, accepting his new position, and he turned to me. "Cassandra?"
    I felt frozen, unable to either accept or refuse, a prisoner held hostage between the two points. More than anything, this was everything I had been born for, trained for, raised for. I was the child of Fredrick de Rolo, and a daughter. This was exactly what I had been born to be, someday I would have been married to a nobleman who's ancestry was as long as mine, or a wealthy merchant who's money influenced entire economies, and this is exactly what I would have been for him. A wife to run his house, a warden to keep his keys, a support to strengthen his heritage with mine, a councilor to guard his secrets, even a warrior to protect his life. It had been my destiny from the moment of my birth.
    But that was opposed by equally strong arguments, that fought for another cause. I wasn't the same person I had been, how could I accept? The least trustworthy of any in this city, the traitor, the deceiver. How many foolish choices I had made, how willingly had I betrayed everything I cared about, for nothing more than casual affection. I was a liar.
    "Percy," I pleaded, instinctively turning to the only person I still entirely depended upon. His face softened as I appealed to him, sympathizing my struggle. On an impulse I seized his hands, instinct overriding tradition for a moment. "Can I be trusted? Do you trust me?"
    "All things considered, I think that you're more trustworthy and I am at this point." He said, tucking a stray hair back into place. "Lets not forget that I was the one that let you down first."
    I smiled weakly, reassured by his confidence in me. It was my nature to be guided by others, and I couldn't change that bent in my character simply because I wished it, I was influenced by my brother even if I didn't want to be. His reassurance was all I needed, and I yielded. I wanted to please him. For the moment I couldn't bring myself to admit it yet, but the choice was made here and now, and Percy didn't need me to tell him what I had chosen. Freeing one hand from my grip, Percy reached into the pocket of his great coat and drew out a large gem, almost as big as my fist, dark amethyst in color and roughly uncut, which he handed to me.
    "Wait! No!" Vex burst out, taking an involuntary step forward as she protested. "That was for the whole group! That was for the whole group, Percival!"
    "What is this?" I murmured, clasping the large stone between my hands, and looking down into its dark purple center.
    "Leave it alone." Vax'ildan urged his sister, drawing her away with a hand on her shoulder, and speaking into her ear.
    "It could save your fucking life later." She continued, without heeding her brother.
    "I know you're going to be so happy," Percy said, crossing his arms, "when you have instant access to the treasury..."
    "Alright." Vex said grudgingly, relenting as soon as Percy mentioned riches, and she stepped back.
    "If anything bad should happen," Percy said, wrapping his hands around mine, which still held the stone. "If there's any need of quick retreat or communication, this is a one way trip to us, and in return this is a one way trip for us to you. In case of emergency."
    I nodded and bit my lip, still clutching the stone. Even though my hands were already icy cold, the stone felt freezing in my hands, an almost pulsing chill like a heart beat under my fingertips, in a strange way it almost made my hands feel warm in contrast. Roughly Percy chafed the backs of my hands under his palms, trying to warm them, trying to warm me, and he clasped my shoulders.
    "We're born for this." He reassured me. "You were instructed in how to do this, where I never was."
    "And now you've got four other people keeping an eye on you." Vex put in dryly, still resentful about the stone in my hands.
    "What you say is true," I agreed, with hesitant humor, still unused to my slowly returning good spirits. Gripping the stone, and holding it to my chest, I looked first at Yennin, searching for forgiveness, and finally at my brother, gathering courage. "If it so pleases this intended council, it would be my honor to represent the de Rolo bloodline, in keeping this town safe."
    An audible breath ran through the room, as everyone released the tension they had been holding through this discussion. Percy smiled, and suddenly stood taller as if some immense load had suddenly been removed from him, and he silently squeezed my shoulders in thanks. I blushed under his silent gratitude, still struggling with the feeling that I didn't deserve his affection, but I could see that I had made him happy, and that was more than enough to reward me.
    "Then so be it. I shall inquire with the people of the town, and we will forge a council voted by the peoples of this place. We shall restore Whitestone to it's former glory." Yennin said, also standing straighter, and giving a short curt nod of approval, then his solemn expression relaxed, and he smiled. "Now go, enjoy the rest of your festival!"
    "What was that, uh, cash prize?" Scanlan inquired sheepishly, nervously scratching behind his ear. "You had mentioned some sort of a..."
    "Talk with Percival." Yennin said firmly.
    "I'll organize something." Percy answered, not in the least surprised or perturbed by the greed of his friends.
    "Oh do you have to give it to us?" Vex burst out doubtfully, her face mistrustful. "Does it have to come from you? That feels shady."
    "Let us not forget that, I want to say within six hours of meeting each other, I ended up handing over an enormous sum of money to you!"
    "It was actually like, only five hundred gold..."
    "No, it was quite a bit of gold if I recall."
    Frowning deeply, Vex'ahlia absently began to check her pockets. After searching for something she wished to find, she drew out a battered pocket book, old and wrinkled, and began to leaf through the pages. Every paper was covered in lines of cramped tiny figures, line after line of minuscule numbers, that were almost obsessively detailed.
    "You have it written down don't you..." Percy said, in a tone of mingled wonderment and admiration. Vex jumped at the sound of his voice, cleared her throat awkwardly, and began to hastily tuck the book away, careful not to look Percy in the face as she did.
    "It's so endearing." And Percy's voice had a strange warmth, almost of pride, that I'd never heard before.
    "Is it?" Vax'ildan said gloomily, with the hardened resignation of one who had lived with Vex's money obsession for years.
    Percy laughed, but it wasn't at Vax. He was still looking with mingled amazement and pride, at this extraordinarily miserly woman, who still kept an exact account of some exchange that had happened years ago. I fought hard to hold back a sudden grin. My brother wasn't much harder to read than he had been years ago, and something told me that I'd discovered the secret temptress he's refused to tell me about.
    "Very well, enjoy the festival, you've earned it." The Keeper said, interrupting this conversation, and his voice was sprightly as he gestured toward the open street outside the windows. "Go out, be merry! And let us all remember this time of year, the bonds that we carry, the loyalties that we hold to, and the heroism that you stand for. Now go."
    In a body everyone filtered out into the street, Yennin bowing ceremonially in farewell, Scanlan adjusting his beret to an even jauntier angle, Grog unceremoniously slinging his tiny gnome companion up onto his shoulders, Keyleth and Percy like two teenage girls who were best friends linked arm in arm, while both the twins hung back for a moment in the abandoned building where our discussion had taken place. Last of all I followed out into the open street, and while Percy and his friends turned one way, I turned another, taking a different direction.
    Resigned as I was to my new position, I still felt the weight of it, and I turned my feet toward the edge of the city, seeking solitude. Walking through the snowy streets, I could hear the sounds of festivity drawing further away, until they faded into entire silence, and I was left to brood over the new events. This was a heavy task, and even with the aid of Keeper Yennin and others, I would still be facing it alone. Clearly that was inevitable. I was the last of my father's daughters, and I would stand alone in that, the last councilor to which everyone would look for guidance. Wasn't that the curse of being a leader? The last word always lay with you, and everyone would look to you to say it.
    I could do it. There was no debate about that, I knew I had the skills, the talent that would be needed, to make the decisions of a leader. Already, in choosing to take the position of counselor, that had been the action of a leader. But my strength, that was what I questioned.
    It had been so easy for Silas to sway me to his will, the work of a moment, one instant of weakness. So quickly Delilah had charmed me, with nothing more than kindness, a gentle touch. All it took was an instant of vulnerability, a moment of loneliness, to conquer me. I thirsted for intimacy, my soul craved submission, I delighted in it, and it took no more than a single look to overpower me. I was weak.
    Clouded by an intangible fog of thoughts, I aimlessly wandered toward the edge of the city, hardly giving a thought to where my feet would take me. Blind to everything but my inner turmoil, I paid no heed to the way, until I suddenly felt the cold touch of a snowflake on my neck, and looked up at the grey sky overhead. The light clouds of the morning had thickened, lowering until the sky between the mountains was choked with heavy clouds, and at last snow began to fall.
    My abstraction had carried me past the city's gates, out into the fields, and around me the ground stretched away, barren and empty. The dirt was hard and frozen, still much too cold to support anything but the hardiest mosses. Snow was gradually gilding the crumbled frozen earth with a white sheet, mercifully covering the thick muddy road so that its twisted track no longer scarred the frosty landscape.
    Once again, I was utterly alone, the only audible sound was the imperceptible rustle of falling snow. It was a strangely sad sound, lonely and desolate, pressing close and thick so that sound fell dead. I could have wept at the whisper, and not understood why this pain pierced my heart. Trembling with the cold, suddenly holding back tears, I lifted my head with closed eyes, letting the snowflakes drift over my face.
    "Cassandra! Cas!" The voice was a strange interruption in such solitude, but the larger quiet pressed down thick over the voice and the sound fell dead, preserving the precious stillness, as if not even this rude awakening could disturb the quiet.
    I turned to look back, and saw Ivan, muffled in a winter cloak, long legs striding with purpose, as he followed my path up the road. His voice recalled my attention to myself, and I suddenly shivered, chilled to the bone. At last he reached me, and we met, breath steaming out into the winter stillness.
    "I was looking for you!" He explained, after a long tense moment in which he waited for me to say something, filling my silence with his own meaningless words. "I just got back from Swiftshore, or I would have found you sooner, my apologies."
    Still I said nothing, it felt as if I had somehow lost the capability of speech. Growing by degrees more uncomfortable, Ivan shuffled his feet in the snow, like a guilty schoolboy wilting under the judging silence of a severe teacher. It was a nervous tick I had never observed before, but it amused me slightly, and I felt momentarily warmed by the characteristic movement.
    "H-How are you?" He stammered, unbalanced by the silence which he had expected me to cheerfully fill, as was my usual wont.
    But I couldn't call up anything like cheerfulness, not now, and I only collapsed into him. At once he wrapped his arms around me, crushingly strong despite how thin he was, as if every inch of his narrow frame was knotted muscle. Worming my arms out from his grip, I embraced him back, my arms snaking under his and locking behind him so that he was trapped in the circle of my grasp. It was strange, I had either taken it for granted, or simply never noticed it; but the slenderness of my frame and the rail like boniness of his, almost locked together, like the sharp edges of two jagged puzzle pieces that fit together.
    "I'm sorry, Cas, I'm sorry...I'm so sorry..." Ivan murmured as his hand possessively cupped the back of my head. "I shouldn't have left you, all alone by yourself, trapped under the thumb of those people. It was selfish of me to leave, just to take care of myself. I'm sorry."
    "You had to go."
    "I could have stayed. If I'd been thinking of anything other than my own selfish grief, I would have."
    "No, I wanted you to go!" I protested, drawing away, so that he could see how earnest I was. "You were safer that way. Didn't I tell you, it would have been too much trouble to get dressed for your funeral, if you had stayed?"
    "Thank Pelor, I didn't need a funeral then."
    I laughed shakily, and clasped Ivan close again, unwilling to break our embrace just yet. "I'm glad you're back." The warmth of my own breath heated his shoulder as I mumbled into it, so that the heat of my breath was refracted back at me, through the warmth of his skin.
    "Well, you have my word, I won't be leaving you again." Ivan said. He could read my melancholy, and tweaked a strand of my hair, as he continued teasingly. "You can't get rid of me, whether you like it or not."
    "Oh god no..." I murmured with halfhearted teasing derision, making a show of trying vainly to shake myself from his grasp, and limply throwing my hands up when I could not. "Oh god, the horror..."
    With a sudden impulsive movement, Ivan gathered me to him, silencing me. I was suddenly breathless, frozen stiff against his possessiveness, then slowly yielding to him, as the snow continued to rustle around us. At last he gently released me, and then I was suddenly able to breathe again. My breath puffed out as white clouds, mingling with his in the chill air, gasping to make up for the breathless moments that had proceeded. Ivan was heartbreakingly gentle as he touched my cheek and forced me to meet his eyes, then his face twisted, and he almost became pleading. "Cas?"
    I couldn't answer, my voice wouldn't obey me, and I struggled to regain my balance. My whole world had suddenly shifted around me, or else I had suddenly changed to fit it, like an optical illusion I suddenly saw from a different perspective. The feeling made me giddy, as if I had never understood anything about myself until now, and yet had somehow always known. I laughed, incredulous, still unable to do more than examine my own heart in wonderment, but Ivan's face became hopeful, even at the laugh.
    "All's fair in love and war..." I whispered, pressing into his side. As if it were a sign of permission, Ivan wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pressing his lips into the top of my head. I wound my own arms around him again, once more sensing that strange rightness, the harmony of our two jagged puzzle pieces. "I should have known you meant something when you said that."
    "Will it be Love, or War this time?"
    "Aren't you a clever boy?" I questioned, settling myself comfortably into him, "I'm sure you can work that one out for yourself."
    The imperceptible rustle of falling snow, and behind that deeper silence. It wasn't the silence of abandonment, or emptiness, it was just a moment of contemplation, a silence that fell when nothing more needed to be said. Gradually dusk was falling, creeping down from the mountain peaks above, until the distant tree line became a dark blur. But it wasn't the darkness of confusion, or isolation, it was simply a moment of peace, a sheltering curtain. In the distance the lights of Whitestone illuminated the darkness, points of yellow shining in the blackness like liquid gold, and something even of the Winter's Crest could still be heard at a distance over the open snow. The singing of a fiddle, an occasional boisterous laugh that rose above its fellows, but they weren't a disturbance, they weren't the clash of noisy humanity overwhelming the senses. It was just an undercurrent, a rippling tide of merrymaking and light hearts, that broke gently on the night. The larger silence lurked outside the range of their celebrations, settling over the valley like a blanket. A silence where two souls did nothing more than sit side by side, one head supported on the other's shoulder as they looked out at the darkness, and the snow rustled in its fall.