Snow Way Out (Mari)

[FennWenn]

((Bunnies approved! Mild content warning))


Snow.

The woods simply shone with the fluffy white powder in the weak sunlight. It hung on the trees, tucked into crevices and layering the world in all it's splendid glory. Fenn’s cloak, his shirt, and even his hefty bag had been cast aside during the night; only his breeches remained on his person. The little Fae was curled up in utter bliss, using the snow as a nice blanket as he snoozed the morning hours away. Anyone else would have frozen to death in the wee hours of the morning, but not Fenn. To him, it felt so good out here, in the cold and the quiet, and he just couldn’t help but bask in it.

Fenn didn’t know why he hadn’t taken his wanderings to Salvar sooner. A place so thoroughly and eternally caked with cold and frosted with snow was perfect for him, he thought.

Footsteps crunched down the snow a little ways behind him. Sleepy as he was, Fenn barely made the effort to flick his ears in the direction of the noise. Probably, he surmised, just some humans passing through in their own travels. Yawning, Fenn stretched out in the snow and rolled over, ready to head back to sleep.
Rude, rowdy voices caused him to stir in annoyance and stick his head under the snow. Couldn’t those damn travelers be quieter? Actually, those voices were getting unnervingly close. So were the footsteps.

“What in freezin' 'ell is a lil' brat doin’ out here in all this snow?” a bawdy man shouted. Fenn gasped and jerked his head out of the snow as someone gave him a swift kick to the side. He never saw the attack coming. It hit hard, and Fenn swore he heard one of his ribs snapped. A sharp, stabbing pain burned into his side. He clutched the affronted area with a pained grimace and great surprise, just barely focused enough to listen to the conversation around him.

“Gabe, ya didn’t need ta do that,” someone else grumbled in protest. “It’s a kid.”

“Shaddup Thom. I’ll be decidin’ what I do an’ don’t need ta do,” replied someone with a rough, intimidating voice. Fenn knew that sort of tone; it was the voice of authority, of men used to pushing others around. “Wanted ta check n’ see if 'e was frozen n’ dead. 'Tis rather interesting that he ain't, don't ya think?”

One of the men leaned down to look at Fenn, who was closing his eyes to the sudden horror that was now his reality. “His face looks kinda funny too. Ain’t those elf ears?”

“No, ya dimwit!” another bandit called out, shoving his friend a little. “Elves die in the cold just like most folk, I reckon. 'E looks like a one of them snow faeries or whatnot.”

Gabe laughed. “There’s somethin' unusual. Search 'is stuff.”

The Fae cracked open an unearthly green eye and stared up at the man who spoke, and who had kicked him so. Eleven other men milled around him, several of them already going through Fenn’s belongings and his cast-off clothes. Anger bubbled under Fenn’s skin. Yet there was nothing for him to do but clutch his side and give an anguished look at the bandits as they tore through his belongings. Just breathing hurt, and for the life of him, he couldn’t force himself onto his feet or to cast a spell. Not that his weak magic would be much help anyway, he thought, slumping a little in defeat and fear.

Watching the men touch his things, his things, made Fenn want to scream. He weakly leaned away as one of them made to tie his hands up, but he couldn’t resist the strong hands grabbing for him, nor could he ignore the stabbing chest pain. “It’s all junk ‘n shit in 'is bag!” the bandit who had been leafing through the satchel shouted angrily to Gabe, lifting out a small sack of nuts and dried fruit. “Got some food in here, but everything else is junk.”

Gabe leaned down and took Fenn's chin in his hands, forcing the boy to stare into his cruel, compassionless gaze. The man’s hot, rank breath puffed in his face. “Take it anyway. Take all of 'is stuff. No reason to leave it behind fer anyone else to 'ave. Search the bag more later, after we get the wench ta fix 'im up. What’dya think a Fae’d sell fer? Definitely, it'd be a pretty penny.” Fenn trembled as the man let go. “Well, 'e ain’t gonna escape all 'urt like that, and 'e ain’t gonna walk either. Jack, carry him back with us.”

There was nothing he could do but disbelievingly close his eyes to the world as he was picked up and carried off with the marching band of bandits. The frustrated tears that leaked from under his lashes froze solid to his face. This was not how Fenn had imagined his morning would go.

[Mari]

Amari lost count of how long she had been with the bandits for; of how many days and nights she spent curled up on a pile of rags in the corner of a cold room; leaching whatever heat she could from the ovens. Of how accustomed she got to their rowdy behaviour. Amari had picked up many mannerisms from them, her once delicate and soft features seemingly set in frustrated frowns. Her speech turned rough; having the noble politeness literally beaten from her.

What was perhaps worse? How their actions had become so commonplace to her now, that she had grown used to them, how she barely took note of the possessions they stole; of the few people who came in to partake in shady dealings. Amari simply existed. Kept alive solely to be their cook, keeper, and general servant. Why? Because her father refused to pay her ransom. Amari knew her father hated her; but she never would have thought both he, and her brother would abandon her so. That, killed her more than any physical violence Gabe inflicted upon her.

She was unwanted cast aside from her own flesh and blood.

Now?

Now she stood in a small kitchen, basting a large turkey for the men to enjoy upon their return from who knows where doing god knows what. She had been locked inside the large food hall; but had been given free roam of the place. When left alone she had tried multiple times to escape; but the windows were sealed shut; and the basement doors chained shut.

Amari’s stomach growled as she shut the oven; the men ate well; she only managed to survive off whatever scraps were given to her; aside from the rare meal Thom or Jack were able to sneak her. The two were the saving grace of the gang.

There was a sudden and loud bang from the larger of the rooms; followed by cheering and shouting. They had returned. Amari barely took notice, instead shifting to the pot of stew on the stove, lifting the large metallic lid with cloth in hand, she stirred its contents.

It wasn’t till she was called out that she sighed, wiped her hands clean on the cloth and headed into the next room.

It was vast, and well lit; various lanterns dotted the walls and sat upon the small. Circular wooden tables that were scattered in the hall. In the centre, sat one larger Dining table. It was there that Amari had already placed all the cutlery out neatly; and it was there, that Gabe had seemingly had someone sling a small, crying child onto.

“What the fuck?” Amari retorted, pushing one of the sniggering bandits to the side, “The hell did you bring someone here for? A kid no less?” She muttered - shoving another to the side so she was able to lean over the child.

He looked no more than 7, 10 at most. His form shivered. His hands were bound behind him and his feet together by rough rope. Amari let the back of her hand gently wipe the blonde tendrils of hair from his face. She could feel the warmth of her breath against her skin. He lived.

Amari shifted her emerald eyes from the kid to Gabe; “This is too far.”

“Yer don’t make tha rules, wench. I do.” He hissed back at her, grabbing Amari by the arm he pulled her close. Wrapping his other arm around her waist forcing her lithe form against him. “Yer lucky we can’t play wid ya, since yer’ cursed ‘n all that.” He whispered hotly against her skin. Amari fidgeted, attempting to push him away.

Gabe twisted her arm and Amari howled in pain. “Yer still ‘aven’t learned yer place, slave.” He pushed Amari to the floor and gave her a swift kick to the side. “Now, get us a round, clean the brat up - tend to ‘is wounds. Tis a fae kid, he’ll sell good on the black market.”

Amari coughed in response to his attack; rolling onto her side she struggled to push herself up, his blow had winded her and she struggled to breath. Still, with great effort, she stood. Glared at Gabe and headed toward the kid. She tenderly wrapped her arms around his form and picked him up. He wasn’t heavy, but it was still a struggle to carry him.

She ignored the insults and jeers that came her way as she carried the child back to the kitchen. There wasn’t much comfort to be had here, but she placed him on the pile of rags the called a bed. She turned her back to him and grabbed a small knife from her preparation area. It had been dulled; and proved difficult to cut and prepare food, but it was a necessity. Last time the bandits gave her sharp implements she had tried to attack them with it to escape. She cursed herself for her foolish endeavour as she turned and tried to cut the rope that bound his hands and feet. She set the knife to the side, next to the two of them and carefully wiped the frozen tears from his face.

“Hey.” She spoke gently, as though her words could break him. “Where does it hurt?” He didn’t speak at first, but his shivering hands clutched at his side.

Amari shooed his hands away, as a mother would a child, a large bruise had began to form. She frowned, it apeared that they weren’t gentle with him. “Just a child…” Amari mumbled, her fingers dancing along his bruised side. Her eyes travelled up to his face. It wasn’t fair. Why had they decided to take him? The bandits were cruel, but they had never chosen to take a living, sentient being before, so why now?

As Amari watched his face, she failed to notice her own, natural talents at work. Thin golden tendrils of light danced behind her fingers, sinking into the Fae childs flesh, ensaring the sinew of his bruised meat and filling the cracks of his broken ribs. Soaking his form in a comforting warmth. Her Ar’Tuel magic, unbeknownst to her; had healed the severity of his wound.

Her touch healed him, but it bought her greater pain and discomfort. The magic unpractised, and unrefined- causing her to take on the pain he had once felt. Amari drew her hand away. Stilling her breath. “Ah shit…” She muttered. It was in the same area Gabe had kicked her, so she assumed his blow had flared up.

“He really did a number on us, eh kid?” She attempted to joke, forcing a laugh through clenched teeth.

[FennWenn]

By the time they got back to the bandit’s abode, Fenn was simply loopy with pain. The voices of the men blurred together. His side ached with every breath and twinged with every footstep, and the bindings twisting and securing his hands behind his back weren't helping matters. A door slammed behind him with a tremendous bang.

When he next cracked opened his eyes, they were in a vast room as bright inside as the world was outside. Someone set him down on a rough wooden table with an array of utensils set out upon it. Not sure as to what the metal was, Fenn quivered and painstakingly inched himself away from a dangerously near fork. A couple of the men laughed among themselves. Gabe began shouting over them, calling for someone. A girl, no, a young woman came reluctantly into the room at his command.

When she spoke, her words blurred together too. Through his tears, Fenn watched her stalk over indignantly toward his table. There was a blistering anger searing her voice, and burning through her green eyes. He cowered a little, afraid it was directed at him, but a gentle touch to his forehead, flicking back his limp blonde locks suggested otherwise.
She seemed… protective. Of him, at the moment. Normally, Fenn would deem such a thing as “gullible” on the girl’s part, but under the circumstances, he just felt sorry for her.

He stared breathlessly as the woman was harassed by Gabe, eventually knocked down and given a swift kick in the side just like Fenn had recieved. Sniffles wracked the Fae, and he winced sympathetically as she was thrown to the floor.

But it seemed that the woman was made of stronger stuff than Fenn was. Unlike him, she got back to her feet and headed back over to the boy. She gently swept him off of the table and struggled to carry him away from the raucous bandits, holding him as if his bones were toothpicks. They might as well be, he thought with annoyance, as that was how easily they seemed to snap. He lamented his fragile nature.
Touching her was… strange. Most people elicited no extrasensory reaction from Fenn, but he sensed something bright pulsing under her skin. That was the only way he knew how to describe the feeling of potent magic. There was more to her than the eye told.

Once in the kitchen Fenn found himself set down in a mess of cloth rags. The fraying fabric served as a bed of sorts, and he relaxed in it, glad to be away from the noisy men and their antics. As soon as his hands were freed from their bindings, they went instinctively to his side, cradling his injury. His breath was still harsh with pain.
The woman wiped the frozen tears away from his cheeks. Her gesture reminded Fenn achingly of an old friend, whose concern for him had been endless. He stared up at her with his wide, pupil-less eyes and leaned into the touch, wondering semi-lucidly if she noticed the frost and the chill on his skin.
“Just a child,” she murmured, and her hands pulled his away from his broken rib. He gritted his teeth against her light touch, twinging the wound in a new way and turned away. An odd warmth spreading from her fingers surprised him. For once, it was the heat and not the chill that comforted him. His breathing loosened. A grin of sweet relief spread across his face.

On the other hand, the kindly woman drew away from him, her breathing troubled as Fenn’s had been. Fenn covered his mouth with his hands, uncertain of how to comfort her. Despite his general track record of leaving others to their own misery, he liked this person, and felt bad that she was the one hurting now.

“He really did a number on us, eh kid?” she said with a laugh that rang as forced on the Fae’s ears.

He certainly did, Fenn wanted to reply. The boy huffed and nodded weakly, thinking about the pain in his side, which was-
Wait. He poked his side repeatedly, his mouth gaping open in surprise. The pain was gone. Fenn clamped down on a sudden excitement that trembled in his chest. Did he have some sort of healing magic he didn't know about?
His excitement faltered a little when he realized it probably wasn't him. Duh. As often as he got into scrapes, he probably would have noticed a healing ability long ago. Upon giving it a little more thought, he snuck a sly look at the bright-feeling woman who was being so gentle with him. It had probably been her.

He had many questions. So, so many questions. Fenn gave the girl a thin smile and reached out with one hand to pat her as reassuringly on the noggin as he could. It was a familiar gesture of affection many used to console him, so he hoped it would console her. The touch left crystals of frost in her hair.
His other hand he laid across the floor nearest to him. Frost curled across the stone and licked at the rag “bed”. Painstakingly, Fenn dragged his finger in it, spelling out his thoughts. It was a urgent, rambling string of shaky words.
AM FENN. YOUR NAME? HOW DID YOU MAGIC THAT? CAN I HELP YOU? WHY SO NICE? THIS PLACE IS WHERE? HOW DO I LEAVE?

He paused, fright realizing across his delicate features. His ears pressed flat to his head as he finished his message.
HOW DO I LEAVE? he repeated, WHAT WILL THEY DO TO ME? TO YOU?

The heat from the kitchen oven would soon melt the message, but hopefully the bright woman would understand.

[Mari]

In response to her joke the kid slowly and gingerly sat up, covering his mouth in a small gasp. A look of concern upon his cherub face. It was only now, Amari really noticed his eyes. Like hers they were strangely coloured, but unlike hers, they didn’t hold a myriad of colours. Only a single swirling shade of green. Deep pools that drew you in and almost gave Amari the illusion of an aged soul beyond that of the child before her.

Amari watched as Fenn poked at his side. Her eyes widened and she reached out, ready to grasp his hand and pull it away from him. Amari never had a mother, she never had any real parental figure for that matter, but instincts kicked in, and she was acting quite maternal toward the boy. “No, don’t do that you’ll only instigate th-ahh..” As she extended her torso the pain ebbed and caused Amari to double over again.

“Shit.”

The pain was slowly subsiding, but movement still instigated it. Amari hadn’t realised he had kicked her so hard, it almost felt as though he cracked something rather than just bruising her flesh. “Fuckin’ Gabe.” She muttered.

Amari felt movement, and then an odd sensation - one that she recalled from her youth. A gentle, albeit cold pat on her head. The woman lifted her head, and offered the boy a reassuring smile. “It’s ok, this happens sometimes.” She straightened herself, the initial jarring pain she felt was already subsiding into the low drooling pain she was used to. The residual pained side effects of her healing fading. “See? Ok.” She reached out and offered him the same in turn, ruffling his hair. Again, she noted how cool to the touch he was.

The touching moment was short lived as the boy urged Amari’s attention toward his other hand. Warbled writing written in frost appeared on the floor, Amari leaned over with intrigue, “Ah. So it wasn’t my imagination.” She mused quietly. She struggled to read them, even at the best of times reading was difficult for her. Her father had disallowed her tuition, and any skills she developed were from her brother.

“Fenn?” She asked, “Is that your name?” She gestured to herself. “I’m Amari. But Fenn…” She glanced down at his words, already melting. “I’m sorry - I wasn’t really taught to read. I struggle greatly with Salvan, and am hopeless at other dialects.” Her fingers glanced over the word ‘magic’ or what was left of it, now it was just a puddle of water. “Nejik? I’m not sure what that is.” She paused, watching his facial features.

His ears flat against his head, lips parted from shaken breaths. She knew that look. Fear. Amari reached out, wrapped her arms around his tiny form and pressed him against her. His head between her chest, one arm around his back the other let consoling fingers drag through his hair. She didn’t mind the bite of the cold, and the only sign of her discomfort was a twitch of her body as frost licked at her exposed skin.

There was a loud clash, the breaking of glass from another room; and an obnoxious voice called out; “WENCH, DRINKS!”

“It’s ok Fenn. When I’m around I won’t let them do anything to you. I’ll get you out of here somehow.” She pulled away and dusted the frost off her shoulders. Amari pressed her forehead against his. Her Emerald eyes, alit with flecks of golden stared into his deep pools of green. “Stay here, and don’t let them win.” She whispered before standing.

Amari turned to the door, cracked it open and shouted in response. Her tone changing drastically. From nurturing to crass, “I’LL GET YER FUCKIN’ DRINKS HOLD UP.” She sighed, padding to the other side of the room where a large barrel sat, dripping an amber liquid. She started filling up several steins and placed them on a silver platter, her motions practised; she filled up two large platters and balanced them on the palm of her hands. With a flick of her foot she wrenched the door open. As she passed through her side clipped it and she winced, still clearly in pain.

Amari left Fenn in the back room, the kitchen, her bedroom, and her prison. She was greeted with cheers and jeers as she started wading through the small crowd of bandits. Some grabbed their beers, others offered her a slap on her ass, in which Amari responded with a glare or stomp of her foot upon theirs. Despite their cruel treatment of her, many of the bandits liked Amari. She had quickly adapted, picked up their mannerisms and had a fierey spirit. She was a wildfire that couldn’t be tamed, nor touched. Akin to a forbidden fruit. Her meals were hearty and delicious; and she kept the tavern turned base in good condition. No longer were there fetid foods or rotting flesh. No piles of vomit or blood. She cleaned it all.

Amari set the last stein in front of Gabe, it landed heavily on the wooden table, sloshing its contents out the sides. “You’re a fuckin’ ass.” She muttered to him.

“Girl.” He grabbed her wrist as Amari turned to leave. She jerked, quick to respond. “Unless you want burnt bread, and dry duck you’ll let me go.”

Gabe’s grip tightened around her tiny wrist. “Feed the boy what you feed us. Bathe him, see if you can find any clothes that fit him. In 3 days we are taking him, and selling him. Fae are worth a lot.” His eyes glanced up at her.

“You get your usual hovel.”

He let her go and Amari, furious, went to hit him across the side of the face with the metal tray. Gabe caught it, and in swift response returned her action. A loud metallic clang rang over the cheerful banter, and Amari was sent toppling to the floor. Forehead bleeding. Gabe threw the platter to her and it clattered on the ground.

“You never learn.” He offered her a sneer, “I think you enjoy my punishment. Slave.” He turned his back to her, the conversation was done. Amari picked up the platter and stormed back into the back kitchen.

Amari didn’t consider Fenn, nor his reaction as she slammed open the door to the kitchen then slammed it closed. She heaved the platter to the side of the room and it bounced off the keg of beer. Her forehead throbbed and bled, the wound was shallow but - as with all head wounds blood flowed consistently from it, down the side of her face and dripping into her cleavage, staining the flimsy white top she wore. “Three days? Three fucking days?” She muttered, heading over to the oven, wrenching it open. “Fuck him.” She wrapped her hands in cloth and pulled out the giant, cooked bird. Then two trays of bread rolls. The myriad of aromas filled the room. The spices and juices of the meat, and the smell of the bread. It caused her stomach to growl.

“Kid, I got 3 days to figure out how to get you outta here before they attempt to sell you.” She sounded furious, she turned to face him - and he jumped, startled. Amari blinked. Realizing what must be going through his head. She instantly went into damage control.

Heaving a heavy sigh, she approached him, and rested her hand upon his head. “I won’t let that happen ok? You’ll be perfectly safe. No one will lay a finger on you.” She leaned down, and pressed her lips to his forehead. Offering him a comforting kiss.

“I promise.”

She turned back to the food, and sighed heavily. “You’ll be getting a good portion of this, I hope yer’ hungry.”

She pulled out a plate, and started cutting meat off the bird, offering Fenn a drumstick, and stuffing. She gave him a few roast potatoes, carrots and bread; which she had drenched thickly in melted butter. She handed him the plate. “Sorry, no cutlery. I’ll bathe you later though, so don’t worry about getting messy.” Amari offered him a smile and a joke, in hopes to ligthen his mood.

“Those men out there, most of them are more like babies than anything else, the amount of vomit and shit I’ve cleaned. You’re like a lil’ godsend.”

Amari readied a second plate for herself, but it wasn’t fresh bread she placed upon it. Amari headed toward a small wooden crate, and pulled out bread that looked to be 2-3 days old. It’s crust stale and hard, a spot of green upon its side. Amari dug it out with her finger and placed it upon her plate. She granted herself a single slice of roast carrot, and drizzled some of the meat stock onto the bread, aiming for the hole she just dug. Then, she prepared the rest of the food and took it out toward the cheering men.

When all was said and done, Amari returned to the back room, and grabbed her piss poor plate of food and sat amongst the pile of rags beside Fenn.

“I’m sorry.” she said, pausing to take a difficult bite of the bread. She chewed with great gusto, swallowed and continued. “We didn’t get a chance to talk earlier. Fenn right? Where are your parents? Do you live in Salvar?”

[FennWenn]

She couldn’t understand his writing.
Damn.

Fenn palmed his forehead and ground his teeth together, concealing his frustration as Amari wrapped her arms around him in a reassuring hug. This was going to make this already unpalatable situation even more bitter. If she didn't understand words, Fenn would have to give her pictures. He sighed and closed his eyes, allowing himself to be squeezed in her tight hug; his head laid on her chest, feeling her hand ruffle through his hair comfortingly.

He felt a little bashful about the closeness; he knew he was making her cold, as she twitched a little at first.

Shouting and shattering from outside the kitchen broke their embrace. Fenn lightly protested her pulling away from him, hanging his head and drooping his ears. “It’s ok, Fenn. When I’m around I won’t let them do anything to you. I’ll get you out of here somehow.” He put on a faint smile as she pressed her forehead against his. “Stay here, and don’t let them win,” she whispered, and then was off, shouting back at the brutish men as she expertly prepared their drinks.

He didn’t really like the idea of being left alone in this place, but he didn’t think following her would do either of them any good. While Amari was out serving the bandits, Fenn decided to distract himself; to calm down a little, he re-frosted the puddle of the floor and drew funny things in it. He wasn't very good at drawing, the boy had to admit to himself.

Still, he enjoyed sliding his fingertips through the frost and just creating without fear. It took his mind off of the fact that he was now, apparently, an object to be bought and sold at the whim of the bandits who had nabbed him.

A crude caricature of Gabe was the first picture to go down. To give it that creative flair, he added a mustache and ugly buggy eyes. GABE THE SMELLY, Fenn scrawled underneath it, recalling the man’s hot, gross breath. It was with great joy that he watched that drawing slowly melt away into nothingness.
He got carried away making his caricatures. It took his mind off of his current status as merchandise. There was a little blobby-looking one that was an attempt at Mari, a couple of squirrels and harecats, and some random swirly shapes.

Once he heard Mari’s light footsteps outside the door, Fenn leapt to his feet, eager to show off his mediocre scribbles and maybe cheer her up a little. Instead, he was met by a slammed door. He stopped short of greeting her, watching the blood trickle from a new wound on her head. The drawings melted at his feet as he faltered in enthusiasm. His heart sank, and he sank back into the pile of rags with it.

As soon as she stepped inside the kitchen and busied about with her kitchen work, Amari kept muttering herself about only having three days. It wasn't hard for him to guess what happened at the end of those days, even before she bothered mention it aloud. Emotional vertigo overtook him. Three days, he marveled, nauseous. Three days until he was sold off. Fenn wrapped his arms around tightly himself and stared at the floor.
No more freedom, no more wandering. The only way he could envision a life as a slave was a life in agony, facing too much work for his brittle body to handle, and iron shackles. He didn’t know if that would be the reality, but it probably wouldn’t be much better than that. Or, then again, he might be sold into a slavery where he was like Amari; something between a pretty thing to play with and a servant for his masters...

So caught up in his own twisting thoughts and fears, that he barely even noticed how good the meal Amari was cooking smelled. It took her swerving furiously towards him to bring him back to his senses.
Fenn startled to his feet and leapt back, throwing his hands over his head in defensive expectation of more angry words and violence. He quivered as she blinked, her gaze softening. Again, he realized, she was angry at their captors and not at him. She walked over to him and leaned down so that their eyes met. “I won’t let that happen ok? You’ll be perfectly safe. No one will lay a finger on you,” she promised with a comforting kiss to the forehead.

But what about you? he thought, his brow still furrowed with worry as she started to dish out the food. He had wilted back into the rag bed when Amari presented him with a plate of food. “Sorry, no cutlery. I’ll bathe you later though, so don’t worry about getting messy,” she said in jest.

He returned her smile threefold. It was less because of her joking, and more because he was getting fed. You could never give him enough food. Fenn licked his lips and took the plate from her, his mouth watering at the smell. Turkey, roast potatoes, carrots, and bread drizzled with copious amount of thick butter. A hearty meal if he had ever seen one.
Amari gestured back towards the kitchen door. “Those men out there, most of them are more like babies than anything else, the amount of vomit and shit I’ve cleaned. You’re like a lil’ godsend.”

Fenn beamed back and shrugged bashfully, chowing down as soon as she had left the room to go serve the bandits their food. Something, something, they always needed something from her, didn't they.

By the time Amari was back with her own meal, Fenn has already gone through half his plate with much gusto. The boy licked the remaining meat grease and bread crumbs off of his hands, surprisingly clean for someone who didn’t have a fork. He was used to eating without the funny tools humans insisted on using - they were more trouble for him than they were worth. You never could tell whether that shiny silvery shit was iron or not.
Stupid humans, with their preference for smelting everything out of iron, and dying so quickly, and now this thing with kidnapping. Fenn was as much a thief as the bandits were, but at least he knew the difference between stealing people and nabbing shinies.

A glance down at Amari’s food made Fenn frown skeptically. All she had on her plate was a crusty greenish chunk of bread, with a roasted carrot stuck in it. Compared to what she had served him, it was utterly and undeniably pitiable.

“Fenn, right?" she inquired, not saying anything about her awful meal. "Do you have parents? Do you live in Salvar?”

The mention of parents made him think immediately of Raster. Yes, he thought, Raster had more or less been his father. It made Fenn lose his appetite a little. He set his remaining food down with unsteady hands and began drawing again. This time, the picture was of a man with a pleasant face and far, far too many rings in his nose. Fenn grinned down at it nostalgically. He pointed to the picture and pointed at himself. Then, he drew a crude sword, his grin fading. Uneasily, he slashed at the picture of the man, straight through the stomach.
Amari probably got the point. Fenn wiped it away and renewed the frost with a dull look in his eyes.

As for the second question, well, Fenn hoped that she at least knew what a map looked like. There wasn’t any better way to get his point across. He scrawled a rough depiction of what he knew Althanas looked like, and jabbed a finger in the rough direction of Corone. Home, it seemed, was very far away.

It was time for a change of topic, he thought as he limply wiped away the map. With her questions answered, Fenn nudged Amari’s shoulder in a concerned way and picked up his plate. Shyly, he held it out towards her; it still had some meat and potato left on it. There was a stubborn finality in the way he set it on her lap. He tucked his legs into his chest with a smug turn of his head, preemptively refusing any attempts to give it back to him.

[Mari]

Amari thoughtfully chewed the stale bread as she watched him begin to draw. Slowly, it dawned on her. The young boy was mute. The woman felt a little guilty, asking him so many questions, but he didn’t seem to be bothered by it. Amari decided it’d be rude to draw attention to it. Instead she watched him work. Tiny little fingers etched out an older looking man covered in piercings - only to strike a line through his chest.


Dead.

Amari’s intrigue sank along with her heart. Someone so young had no family, no father or mother. She could relate, she grew up without a mother, and her father didn’t treat her as a daughter. The image brought up bitter memories.


Amari sighed, fiddling with her bread. “It hurts.” she muttered, “Seeing how much death and violence runs rampant on this land. I was so sheltered at home. I never saw any of it.” She shook her head slowly, her musings were not for the young. Nor was it fair for her to push her own worries onto him “Sorry.”


She watched as he started drawing again. Her eyes lit up with recognition: at least she understood this, a map. “Oh.” She watched him point to a place on the map. “Corone? You’re from Corone?” She asked in surprise. “You’re….a frost elf? Frost Fae?” She asked, trying to clarify. “I would have assumed you would hail from Salvar.” Amari glanced at the small window above the oven, too small for her to squeeze through; and two to three iron bars barred it. They were old, and rusted, but until now Amari never bothered with them. Why would she? She’d barely fit her bust through the hole. Frost stuck to the glass pane. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a day where snow doesn’t litter the ground and -”


Amari paused, startled at his sudden and insistent action. She stared as he placed the remainders of his food in her lap. “You...didn’t like it?” She asked, disappoint in her tone of voice. Amari wasn’t very good at alot of things, but cooking? It was one of the few things she felt she excelled at. Fenn furiously shook his head, then insistently tapped the side of the plate, before gesturing to her mouth.


“Oh!” Amari exclaimed, feeling stupid. “You want me to eat this?” He gave her a dumbfounded look, as if he were asking her ‘how are you not getting this?’


Amari poked at the meat and potato, her stomach growling, she was rather hungry...Amari picked up the potato and carefully placed it in her mouth, a satisfied moan fell from her lips as she rolled the fluffy texture around in her mouth. Oh how she had missed the taste of real food. She ate the remaining food on the plate, unlike FEnn she took her time, savouring each and every bite. Amari, once done, set the plate to the side.

“Right...Fenn...I don’t know how old you are, but selling children...regardless...is wrong…” She shifted so she was closer to the boy, and wrapped an arm around his frostbitten skin. Forcing his tiny form to lean against her side. Offering him more consolation. “I won’t have it.”

Before she continued, the moment was shattered.


“ANOTHER ROUND!” A boisterous cry was heard from the other side of the door. Amari sighed, pushing herself up off the rags she called a bed. “Excuse me.” She said, heading back to the large barrel of golden liquer. Amari once again, poured two silver platters of drinks and left Fenn in the kitchen.

Amari placed the drinks around the tables, and collected the empty glasses. One bandit, giddy, cheeks rosy with intoxication laughed as he poured his drink straight over Amari. Drenching her hair and white blouse in the sickly golden drink. The material stuck to her form, and left nothing to the imagination. “You fucker!” Amari hissed, ripping the drink from his hand. “Don’t expect any more.” She hissed. The man didn’t seem too plussed. He was already well beyond plastered.

Amari stormed back to the kitchen, placing the empty glass steins into the sink, she’d wash both herself, and them later. Right now, there were more important topics than beer ladden shirts and dirty glassware.

She sighed, going straight to the issue at hand, as she attempted to wring out her shirt above the sink. “If they are keeping you with me, you will be locked in this mess hall. The windows all have iron bars, and the doors are dead bolted and locked from the outside. The only thing I can think of; is that. I’m too big to fit through, but I reckon you can.”


She pointed to the small window above the oven. “If we’re careful, we can slowly try and pry the bars off; and you can escape.” Before he could react she leaned down and squeezed his small hands. “Don’t worry about me.”

[FennWenn]

Fenn stretched and settled down in the rags comfortably as Mari got around to eating what he had obstinately offered her. Her cooking was the only good thing about this place, and she certainly took her time eating it. Though he felt bad that he couldn't do more for her, a fear that manifested itself in twitchy nail-biting, at least he did that much. He spat a couple of nails into his palms and flicked them away.

It was a relief that Amari accepted the food, and it was a relief that she actually comprehended his childish scrawlings this time. As mean as it felt to admit it, she was not the sharpest of icicles.

But, he was reminded, kindness seemed to go well with a lack of intelligence. At least Fenn could breath easy with her around to protect him. “I don’t know how old you are, but selling children… regardless… is wrong…” she murmured to him, bringing her arm over his shoulders to lean his fragile form against her. Ironically, Fenn realized that he was being given far more affection in this one day than he normally got in a month. “I won’t have it.”

An explosive calamity sounded outside the door as the men roared for more to drink. Fenn’s hands dug into and clawed resentfully into the fabric “bed” underneath him. Hadn't they had enough already? “Excuse me,” she said, looking rather unhappy. Still, she fixed fresh drinks without complaint and headed off to serve the men.

Fenn internally groaned in annoyance and prayed that Amari would come back unharmed this time. The initial fear that had consumed him upon being stolen away was finally wearing off. It was replaced by a fluttering frustration at being trapped as he was. He flopped down in the bed and waited in silence until Amari came back. To explore the kitchen was a tempting thought, but he didn't want to risk messing the place up and getting her into trouble.

The minutes passed, sticky and slow, like time was a delicious syrup that refused to fall fast enough onto his pancakes.

Finally the door banged open, and Amari stamped in, looking very displeased and exceptionally wet. Specifically, her shirt was drenched. He could see all.
Fenn’s cheeks turned ruddy with a flustered flush, and he stood up and looked away with a little flounce, afraid his gaze would make her uncomfortable. He didn't want to stare. People got so weird about being seen in any state of undress. His feisty old comrade Concordia tended to throw things at Fenn when he accidentally walked in on her without knocking, and he was not eager to make Amari that mad.

Gaze lowered and head down, Fenn followed Amari to the sink, where she fruitlessly wrung the foamy beer from her shirt. A huff escaped Fenn’s lips. Those bandits certainly were a rough crowd. For a moment, he lost himself in a rash fantasy of freezing the ruffians into pretty little ice statues right where they sat at the table. Wouldn't that be a funny change? For once, they would be still, quiet, and undemanding.

As Amari worked to dry herself, Fenn stood by and listened as she described the security measures around the place. Locks, deadbolts, bars. Nothing fancy, but still quite intimidating if you didn't have the resources to deal with it.

If only he had his satchel! Fenn’s rather large collection of pins and bits of varied non-iron wires made excellent picklocking tools. Not that it would help, he supposed with a frustrated stamp of his foot, since there were also the deadbolts to worry about.

His satchel, his cloak. He needed to tell Amari about them later; they were not something he would leave behind if he could help it.
A sorrowful pang went through Fenn’s heart and he sniffled. The satchel’s absence made him anxious. Raster had given him that bag, and he hadn't gone a damn night without it at his side. He was going to have troubled sleep tonight.

Amari’s plan was what needed his focus at the moment thought. The small window hanging above the oven seemed promising, as she had said, but...

It was the iron bars that worried him. Fenn peered up at the windows, gnawing at his lip with worry. Were they really iron? If they were, squeezing through them might be painful even if they were pried open far as they could go.

The boy easily climbed his way up on top of the oven, his bare feet providing a buffer against the hot surface with a constant effusion of frost that quickly melted and steamed up the room. He took care not to step directly on the iron coils. Oh, the window really was too small for Amari - it was barely big enough for him. If only she could escape too, he wished, guilt flickering across his face.
Worse, if it those bars were what she said they were, he wasn't sure how even he himself would even get through. Well, he knew, there was only one way to check.

Closing his eyes and steeling his nerves for what would probably come after, Fenn reached forward and lightly touched a finger to a rusty iron bar.

Instantly, a wave of stinging heat seared his hand in reprimand. His eyes watered as red blisters spread across his fingertip. He pulled it away immediately, but it wasn't soon enough; the burn darkened around the edges, and tarry black blood seeped out from under his skin. Fenn sucked in a teary breath and crouched down on the oven to hold his hand up for Amari to see, showing her what it did to him. His nonchalance about this was striking; it was obvious that this sort of thing happened to him often.
IRON, the frost spelled out at his feet. IRON BAD. Hopefully, she understood that one sentence.

Again, he thought, stupid humans made so much stupid stuff out of stupid iron.

[Mari]

Amari watched as he started to climb, first up onto the oven. She reached out to stop him. What kind of idiotic creature would willingly shove bare feet onto hot coils? Fenn. That’s who.


Steam quickly filled the room and Amari, alarmed - thought it was from searing flesh - she waved it away from her face and tried to lift Fenn away from the oven, it was when she noticed that a thin layer of frost constantly spurred forth from his feet.

Of course.

He was a bloody Frost Fae. The brieftest of thoughts wandered through her mind, on how she could sit him atop a pile of heated rocks in the makeshift bathroom downstairs. Perchance she’d enjoy the luxury of a sauna. The L’Olfsden family had one in their estate, although the women of the househould were barred from it.

Amari shook her head, such a thought was cruel and borderline sadistic. It’d be both uncomfortable and humiliating for the kid.

Fenn reached out and touched the iron bars that blocked the window. He pulled away as though he touched something burning, quite ironic considering he was standing on a goddamn burning oven.

“Fenn….” Amari sighed, exasperated. Dealing with rowdy drunk men and an overly inquisitive child was more than what she wanted to handle right now. Her eyes fell to his finger. “You’re allergic to the bars? No...that’s stupid, the iron?” He nodded holding his injured finger out to her expectantly.

Amari wasn’t sure what he wanted her to do. It wasn’t like she had any sort of healing powers or salves. “I’ll get a bandage.” She mused, turning from him, she headed toward a pantry, and to a small wicca basket which sat on the floor. In it, were an assortment of items, pins, needles for sewing, bandages, dried flowers. Small artifacts Amari managed to nab from the bandits before they junked them. She pulled out a fresh bandage and headed over to Fenn. She grabbed his hand, being careful not to touch his injured finger and wrapped the bandage taught around his finger and hand.

Amari thought she had done a decent job, but he still stared at her with his glassy orbs, expectantly, and almost with a look of disappointment. As though he expected her to click her fingers and heal him. “I don’t know what else you want me to do, Fenn. Magic is banned in Salvar. I’m no magic healer. You exhibiting your…” she paused. Trying to think of the right words, not wanting to offend him. “Natural talents...in front of the wrong people - could get you in trouble.”


She hadn’t seen the sentence at his feet, she was too busy trying to clean and dress the wound, but the message was uneeded. It was obvious what happened. “Right.” Amari said, wrapping two arms around his waist to lift him up off the oven.

“C’mon.” She said, setting him down on the floor - and in one swift motion ripping off her wet shirt. She discarded it over the sink. “I’ve had a bath warming for a while now. I really need one, and -” She paused, glancing down at him. “I don’t suppose you bathe in hot water? Cold water?” She glanced away, feeling stupid. She knew nothing of other races, nor their needs. For all she knew, all frost Fae were allergic to Iron and mute.


“Here..” Instead of dwelling on the matter, she lead Fenn downstairs. “They won’t bother us here, Thom and Jack - keep those names in mind. They’re pretty helpful. If you ask them for anything they’ll probably do their best to get it for you.”

At the bottom of the stairs was the basement, another oven, sat to the side, unused. THe other side hung a variety of clothes, drying. In the centre sat alarge, wooden tub - from it steam rose. Behind Fenn was the muffled sound of material shifting and dropping to the floor. Amari, having little to no sense of shame - especially in front of an innocent kid had fully undressed and dipped herself into the water. She winced as her bruised side hit the steamy depths.

“Damn…” She picked up the wash cloth that had been draped over the side of the tub, and dipped it into the water before dabbing her head. Wincing. “Tomorrow. I’ll look at dislodging those bars for you. The sooner you escape the better. Right?”

[FennWenn]

Still crouching on the oven, the frost under his feet still hissing and steaming up the room, Fenn waited with what patience he had for Amari to figure out what was going on with his new burn.
Had he done something wrong? The woman seemed a little exasperated with him, a little overwhelmed. It showed mostly in her voice. Even though she hadn't seen his words before they melted on the oven’s coils, she was able to figure out what had happened. “You’re allergic to the bars?” the woman ventured hesitantly. “No… that’s stupid, the iron?”

Took the words right from his mouth. Fenn nodded curtly, cradling his burned finger. He tried not to drip blood everywhere, as he didn't want to give Amari something new to clean up. If you thought red blood made stains...

“I’ll get a bandage,” she said to his surprise, and began rummaging around in a pantry. From an impressive smorgasbord of bits and bobs - the sort of thing he'd love to check out later, provided he had the time - Amari pulled out a soft strip of bandaging cloth.
Why didn't she just do her healy-magic thing again and fix him right up, he wondered, when it had worked so well last time? Didn't she know she could do that? It wouldn't surprise him if she didn't; again, Amari didn't appear to be particularly observant. She didn't even seem aware of her inner brightness. He waited, disappointed, as she fixed the bandage to his finger.

“I don’t know what else you want me to do, Fenn,” she replied to his wordless disbelief. “Magic is banned in Salvar. I’m no magic healer. You exhibiting your…” She hesitated a moment, mulling over her response. “Natural talents… in front of the wrong people - could get you in trouble.”

Fenn crossed his arms together, resisting a mean-spirited urge to roll his eyes at her. He knew that. It was just, well, he didn't think his ice attunement would be all that noticeable in a place that was leg-deep in the damn stuff. But there wasn't an easy way to tell her that. Instead, he laxly shrugged and allowed her to lift him off of the oven. The steam swirling about the room began to thin out.

She set him on the floor, and Fenn turned to look back up at her inquisitively. His jaw dropped a little as Amari casually slipped her shirt over her head and tossed it into the sink, revealing her pale torso to him. As it seemed, she was not as bashful about nudity as most women Fenn met were (namely, Concordia). Meeting a human so apathetic about it was interesting.
Still… He bit his lip and looked elsewhere anyway. The habit of not-incurring-female-wrath was too ingrained.
Her words, inquiring about how he took his bath, faintly registered to his ear. Hot bath, he wanted to reply. Otherwise, the water froze on top, which was fairly inconvenient. A hot bath would be fine.

Before he knew it, Amari had taken him by the hand and lifted him back to his feet, leading him down the back stairway. “Here,” she said, showing him to a basement that seemed to also serve as a laundry room and a washing room. “They won’t bother us here, Thom and Jack - keep those names in mind. They’re pretty helpful. If you ask them for anything they’ll probably do their best to get it for you.”

How funny. Fenn recognized those names, especially Thom’s; that was the bandit who hadn't liked Gabe kicking him.

After letting go of Fenn's hand, Amari quickly stripped herself of her remaining clothes. Oh dear. Slow with uncertainty, Fenn backed into the basement doorway in order to stealthily wait for her to get done with her bathing. Amari swore as she took a worn washcloth hung over the side of the tub and dipped it in the water. She winced when she dabbed at the gash on her head, blotting off crusty flakes of blood. It was weird how human blood turned brown when it dried. “Tomorrow, I’ll look at dislodging those bars for you. The sooner you escape, the better. Right?”

Right, Fenn thought. He nodded amicably from the doorway of the room, staring at his feet. The sooner he was out of this prison, the better.

Amari took quick note of his skulking. “Well? What are you waiting for?” she asked him tiredly, leaning over the edge of the tub. The little Fae realized with embarrassment that the bath was for him too. “How am I going to get you cleaned up if you don't hop in?”

A frown soured Fenn’s expression. What was he? A baby? He had been bathing himself for damn near twenty-five years, and he refused to feel any more helpless than he already did given his situation. Chilly displeasure glittered in his eyes as he made his way over with awkward, irked strides.

Fenn clambered over the side of the tub, not even bothering to take off his breeches. He skirted around Amari, scooting into the farthest corner from her. The water around him chilled considerably. It felt good to his burned finger; he hoped it was okay to get the wrappings wet. With exaggerated, petulant movements, Fenn picked up a damp washcloth of his own and began scrubbing at his face.

It seemed he was lodging some sort of protest.


((I bunnied a little myself this time to try and make something interesting for you to respond to. Let me know if it needs any sort of fixing!))

[Mari]

Fenn seemed awfully shy for a kid. Embarrassed easily? “I don’t bite.” Amari mused, lifting an arm and wiping the cloth over its length. Generally, children leapt at the chance for a hot bath, he did not. The water may not have been pristine, it was once snow from outside - but to a beer drenched Amari, it was a world of difference.


Amari had almost finished bathing herself. The heated rocks that sat at the bottom of the bath would have to be soon replaced if the water were to maintan a hot temperature. Her skin took on a pinkish red hue, the bath had been very hot - but Amari liked it that way. It made her body ache, it made her feel alive, and it sapped the numbing cold from her sore, tired muscles and joints.

Fenn still had yet to move. Amari twisted her form, leaning over the bath. “Well? What are you waiting for?” she asked him tiredly, giving a small yawn. “How am I going to get you cleaned up if you don't hop in?”

She gave an amused laugh as his expression soured, and his ears fell flat against his head. He stormed over to her and clambered into the bath, clothes and all. “Hey, that’s not….” Amari tried to reach out to him but he scooted away from her. Sitting in the farthest corner of the tub. It wasn’t exactly big. All Amari had to do was lean forward and she’d be able to clasp onto him. Amari didn’t, instead she watched with a bemused smile as he insisted on cleaning himself. “Alright, alright.” She gave a shiver. The water had dropped in temperature.

“I’ll leave you be, Fenn.” Amari pulled herself out of the bath. Dripping wet she padded over to the clothes rack and grabbed an oversized shirt, she draped it over herself. She then found a pair of oversized pants and trench coat. Amari noted the odd look Fenn gave her. “Belonged to Thom. He gave them to me so I could sleep somewhat comfortably.” She tighted the drawstring on the slacks and headed over toward the oven. SHe pulled out a large tray filled with polished black stones. “Right.”

Amari approached the tub, and carefully poured them into the water. They fizzled and hissed as they broke the surface, landing on the bottom, the waters temperature began to rise again - combatting Fenn’s ability.


Amari genuinally laughed again, it felt good to be able to laugh. “You know,” Amari said, clearly still amused as she toussled his hair. “I don’t think I’ve laughed in years-I don’t mean to but that look.” She shook her head, cupping her hands into the water and bringing them up to his head, pouring the water over his hair. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were a jaded middle aged man.”

She dried her hands on her clothing, “I’ll be upstairs. If you need me find me.” She pointed to a towel, which she had failed to fully dry herself with. “Use that, and change out of your wet clothes. You’ll- she paused. “Huh. I suppose the cold wouldn’t bother you.” She shrugged. “I will need to change your bandage before bed. I don’t want it getting infected.”

Leaning forward she pressed her lips to his forehead. “I’ll see you soon, FEnn.”

[FennWenn]

As irked at he started out being about the whole endeavor, Fenn was feeling a little better for being in the bath. The rough handling he’d gotten from the men and the unusual things he’d seen today made him feel really gross, inside and out. Scrubbing himself with the cloth and hot water helped the gross feeling subside. He breathed a sigh of relief, brushing chips of already-frozen ice out of his damp hair.

“I’ll leave you be, Fenn,” Amari told him gently as she got out of the bath. Water simply dripped from her and splattered over the floor as she head headed for the clothes rack. From it, she took a shirt and some pants that were far too large for her and slipped them on. Over that went a trench coat. Fenn gave the clothing a curious look and she noted it, explaining; “Belonged to Thom. He gave them to me so I could sleep somewhat comfortably.”

Ohh. Fenn lounged in the bath as Amari pulled out a large tray filled with polished black stones from the basement oven. They steamed and fizzled when they hit the water, creating tiny bubbles in the bottom of the bath. Fenn swiped at hand at them and dipped his head under the water to look. The warm rocks were, for now at least, enough to fight against his natural cold.

When he brought his head above the surface again, shaking water out of his ears, he could hear Amari laugh again. It was a sweet sound. Even so, Fenn frowned up at her, wondering what she found so funny. “You know,” Amari said, ruffling his hair good-naturedly, “I don’t think I’ve laughed in years- I don’t mean to, but that look...” She leaned over to gather water in her hands and poured it over Fenn without warning. Fenn snorted and shook his head like a dog, wiping it out of his eyes. The grumpy look returned. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were a jaded middle aged man.”

Fenn clapped a hand over his mouth, holding back a smile. If only there was an easy way to tell her.

Amari explained to him where to get a towel. “I will need to change your bandage before bed. I don’t want it getting infected.” Her lips pressed to his forehead in a soft kiss. Fenn rubbed his shoulder shyly, and gave her a smile in return. “I’ll see you soon, Fenn.”

Fenn lingered in the bath for as long as he could, indulging in bubble-blowing and sticking his face under the water to see how long he could hold his breath. It brought him back to the days when he actually bathed fairly often, in a house, with warm water. The water was a little murky with all the accumulated dirt that had washed off of him. With all this time left to himself, he couldn't help but let his mind wander. He wondered about Amari. What was she doing in a place like this, such an oddly bright woman with such an undoubtedly bleak future ahead of her as the slave she was? What, exactly, was she to begin with? The answers slipped through his fingers just like the bubbles in the bath. There was no catching them.

Eventually, the heated rocks lost their fizzle, and the top of the water developed a frosty film. The comfortable cold left him pleasantly sleepy, but he didn’t want to wake up frozen into a block of ice. Time to get out.

Reluctantly, he clambered out of the tub, his feet icing over the puddles that Amari had left on the floor. The water that still clung to him quickly froze to his skin and hair in thin, brittle chunks. This was why he didn’t take baths very often, he reminded himself as he flicked off a crust of ice with a wince and grabbed the towel that Mari had indicated. He fluffed it over his hair and wrapped it around himself. It was a little ragged, but it still was nice on his skin.
His breeches began to freeze up too, and Fenn hastily removed them and threw them by the oven, hoping the heat would dry them. He’d pick them up later, he decided as he stumbled towards the clothes rack. Tiredly, he leafed through what little there was to offer him. Everything was just too big for his diminutive frame. Shrugging to himself, he grabbed a red shirt that was musty, but somewhat soft to the touch. He pulled it over his head and found that it went down to his knees.

It would have to do. None of the pants were anywhere near small enough for him to wear.

This day had taken so much out of him. Tomorrow, he resolved, he’d tell Amari about the stuff he needed back, and he’d explore more, particularly in that pantry cabinet with all the funny bits and pieces of things. Fenn meandered his way back up the stairs haphazardly, blearily bumping into the walls a few times on the way up. He yawned at rubbed his eyes. It just seemed too much effort to clamber up the last step…
The little Fae sat down for a moment, intending to get right back up and meet Mari in the kitchen. Instead, he drooped over and fell fast asleep on the stairs. Light snores echoed their way up.

[Mari]

“Oi? What’s this then?”

It was well into the night, and one of the bandits, on night duty - to ensure that their captive, Amari, didn’t try anything whilst alone was doing his rounds. He found the fae kid, the one she was meant to be looking after asleep on the stairs. A thin halo of frost around his tiny form. He leaned down and roughly wrenched Fenn free, jarring him awake. If Fenn coudl scream, he would have.

The tiny Fae struggled, trying to pry himself away from the leering bandit. “Fuckin’ useless bitch can’t even look after a kid.” He muttered, dragging Fenn back up the stairs behind him.


He headed over to Amari, who was peacefully curled up in the pile of rags. It was an odd sight, seeing a pale skinned woman curled up amidst tattered and stained dish cloths, towels and irreparable clothing. The start contrast of the grays and browns verses her soft skin and intensity of her scarlet hair made it look like a painting of old - rather than the present. Funnily enough, if one were to look hard enough, Amari would surely be found in a few century old paintings. The unknown joys of being Ar’Tuel.

WIth a rough hurl, the bandit threw Fenn into her. Waking Amari with a start. Amari barely had time to catch him. “WH-what?”

The bandit bore his teeth, spittle flying from his mouth. “Yer dumb bitch - he was on tha stairs. PRobably fell asleep snoopin around!” He picked up a wooden spoon and waved it threateningly toward Fenn and Amari. “Keep a better eye on ‘im!” The guard lifted the spoon high over his head and went to bring it down over a mortified Fenn.

WHACK!

“Eugh….”

Amari groaned, she, being typical Amari had bought Fenn tight up against her chest. She hovered over him like a protective wolf, her shoulderblades bled, where the head of wooden spoon splintered off, bouncing uselessly across the floor. Her head low, her eyes seething as she spoke in a low, gutteral voice.

“Keep. Your. Hands. off him.”

Her eyes faintly glowed, creating eerie shadows that shifted across her facial features. The bandit had never seen her this pissed before. Moreso, the last time her eyes glowed. Someone died. To him, to all the bandits - her glowing eyes were a bad omen. Something that was a natural bodily function for her, no different to breathing, or swallowing had the man practically pisssing in his pants. Scratch that. A thin trickle of a wet patch stained his pants. Not that Amari was looking. Her eyes didn’t leave his. “Fuck...fine…” He muttered, quickly backing away.

Amari glared, foolishly ignorant of her own abilities, of the glow of her eyes, of anything. Oblivious, furious Amari. The sound of a large door closing, followed by the clinks and clatter of locks and chains signalled that they were alone again.

Amari blinked, her eyes returning to normal, as she glanced down at Fenn. Her arms and chest were caked in a thin layer of frost, but she tried not to show that it bothered her. Instead, she tenderly ran a hand through his fringe. “You ok?”

[FennWenn]

All too soon, Fenn's sweet dreams shattered and brought him back to a world of nightmares. The first thing he experienced was a rough hand grabbing him by the arm and yanking him to his feet, sharply jarring his shoulder socket. What a rough way to wake up! A voice he didn't have caught in his throat, and a gasp of air was wrenched out of him, one that should have been a scream of surprise. The craggy, unshaven face of one of the bandits leered at him, lit faintly by the candlelight. Fearfully, Fenn made as if to slap him, but the bandit jerked him a step up the stairs, and the blow missed. “Fuckin’ useless bitch can’t even look after a kid,” he muttered in irritation.

Fenn panicked and kicked uselessly at the bandit’s shins as he was forced the rest of the way up the stairs. It did about as much good as hitting a rock. Briefly, he considered giving a more literal meaning to the term “ankle biter”, except maybe on the arm that was holding him, not so much the ankle.

Then again, he had no idea where the ruffian had been. Blegh.

While Fenn's resistance began to peter out, he was by no means done fighting. They struggled all the way over to the kitchens. It was an odd sight; a disgruntled man dragging a flailing Fae whose bare feet left a trail of flickering frost behind.

As soon as they entered the kitchen, bandit tossed him towards the soundly sleeping Amari. She woke up with a start, barely catching him as he fell headlong into the pile of fabric. “Wh-what?” she stammered, cradling the shaking Fae.

Fenn sneered angrily back at the bandit who bore down on them, his fingers curled into claws gripping the ends of his floppy, frosted sleeves. “Yer dumb bitch - he was on tha stairs. Probably fell asleep snoopin around!” he barked, picking up a heavy wooden spoon. Amari pulled Fenn closer to her breast as the bandit waved the spoon at them, readying a hard blow for the boy. "Keep a better eye on ‘im!”

Time seemed to slow. Fenn's eyes went even wider than normal and he threw his hands over his head, bracing against the blow that would come next…
But not to him.

The groan and the sound of the hit was all the more jarring to him for not being accompanied by a burst of pain. Fenn cracked open his eyes to find Amari’s eyes lit by an eerie glow and the bandit holding only the stick of the splintered spoon. It all startled Fenn but none of it gave him the same twang of horror that the blood pooling from her shoulder did. That was at least the third time she had done something like that for his sake.

“Keep. Your hands. Off him.”

Backing away and dropping the remains of the spoon, the guard looked scared to shit. “Fuck… fine,” he said, his voice hoarse. The door closed behind him, the locks clicking and clattering into place.

Amari blinked and her eyes returned to their normal state, something she seemed entirely oblivious to. She and Fenn let out a collective sigh of relief. “You ok?”

Yes, he thought, leaning his head apologetically against her leg. Yes, but no. He could, he could take punishment, he thought as she ran her hands through his hair, trying to calm him like one would calm a frightened child. She didn't have to take this for him. She shouldn't have to, to be frank.
Lackluster, malformed snowflakes puffed in and out of existence around Fenn, a manifestation of his frustration. An unhappy realization had struck during the tussle - he needed to leave this place as fast as he could, and not for his own sake, but for Amari’s. Perhaps he had become fond of her through their shared misery, but his presence here only incited violence against her.

She wasn't well off here by herself, but she would be better without the complications that came with taking care of him.

They needed to make plans before something like this happened again, and he needed to set some things straight. His heart heavy, Fenn slipped out of Amari’s gentle reach. When he did, he stood tall with a strength of will that spoke more of a well-traveled man than anything else. There was a serious and decidedly unchildlike glint in his eyes. He glanced up at the window at the late night sky and then back at Amari with a gap-toothed frown, gesturing for her to watch.

Fenn dropped to the floor and smeared a fresh spread of frost across it. He worked diligently with his etchings; an arrow that pointed to the little barred window, a large floppy satchel, and a cloak. Escape, and his belongings that he wanted to get back. They were surrounded by question marks.
The next series of drawings were of Amari, some bandages, and a heart. For once, should he help to patch up her?

Lastly, he huffed and sheepishly doodled what seemed to be a crude sketch of him… as an older man. Pointedly, he gestured to his head, looked a little peeved. Maybe she would finally get it

[Mari]

Fenn nodded gingerly. Pressing his head into her leg. “I told you.” She soothed, “I won’t let them hurt you.” She grinned. “I have to admit, I didn’t expect him to just turn tail and run.” She squeezed Fenn tighter and tousled his hair in an attempt to cheer him up. “Did you notice he wet himself? Told ya they were just a bunch of babies.”


Fenn didn’t react positively, he pushed himself away from Amari. Immediately, Amari thought she had done something, or said something wrong - “I’m sorry!” She muttered, attempting to reach out to him to draw him close again - but Fenn stepped to the side - slowly shaking his head.

He stood tall and proud. Amari simply stared, hurt and curious. She wasn’t sure what he was doing. Once again he seemed wise beyond his years. He glanced up at the window. Then back to her. “You want to try….tonight?” She asked curiously. “I mean...I can try if you like.”

Fenn fell to the floor and spread out another sheet of frost. He was going to draw her more pictures, the only way the two could communicate. Amari shuffled forward, wincing with every movement her shoulders made. The tension in her muscles caused blood to drip over her shoulders and run down her arms.


The first set, Amari understood straight away- “Oh! You had clothing? Items?” She pursed her lips. “I suppose we can ask Thom and Jack to grab them for us, but you wouldn’t be able to leave tonight if that were the case Fenn.


Satisfied that Amari guessed the drawings right, he wiped the frost clean and began drawing again. “Bandages….for me?” Amari weakly smiled at him, “No. I used the last clean ones I had on you. I had planned on drying yours actually but - “ She paused. Verdant eyes glancing to the bandage around his finger. Soaked and covered in frost. “Heh.”

Her eyes were drawn downward again, as he drew what looked like an older version of himself. “Oh? You have an older brother?” Her answer struck a nerve. He tapped the frosty image indignantly. Green eyes cross, frustrated. “Uncle? Friend? Elder?”

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.


“I don’t get it.”

Finally he wiped the frost clean, writing numbers, and an arrow pointing to him. In a last bid of blind frustration Fenn wrote the word ‘Idiot’ in frost underneath. Perhaps assuming Mari was completely illiterate. That wasn’t the case.

Amari glanced down at the frost, finally beginning to understand. Fae, like Elves, didn’t age the same way humans did. Course, that should’ve been obvious. It was taught to most people at an early age, Amari despite being noble didn’t have that lxury. “I see.” She mused quietly. “So you’re around 25?” Fenn nodded, still frustrated.

Amari sat silently, Fenn tapped his foot impatiently. If she thought about it, it was kind of obvious. There were tell-tale signs, but she was so wrapped up in mothering and protecting him that she didn’t stop to think or notice these things.

“Idiot sounds about right.” She muttered. Shifting back to the rags. She picked one up and gingerly patted the blood away from her shoulder. The insult struck a nerve. She’d been called far worse things from the bandits. Been treated with ire and cruelty, but to see that leaked into Fenn? Amari gave a self depreciating laugh as she tossed the dirty rag into the sink. The movement caused blood to trickle again.

“In the morning we will speak to Jack and Thom. Get your things, and by tomorrow night you’ll be out of here. For now, I think it best I get my energy. Goodnight Fenn.” She burried herself into the rags with a series of kicks and arm movements. Turning her face into the dirtied pile


idiot is an understatement… she thought to herself.

[FennWenn]

Itchy frustration radiated out from Fenn in the form of an arid cold. As Amari finally got around to understanding him, he tapped his bare feet impatiently on the floor, making a thick and glittery patch of frost. A weight had been lifted off of his chest; perhaps Amari was going to treat him less like a small, fragile thing to be protected, and more like- well, he didn’t have a proper term for it. Not exactly an adult, but an intellectual equal.

The only thing that bothered him was the hurt look on Amari’s face when she finally got what he was trying to tell her. He brought a hand to his mouth, staring at his scrawlings with regret. Perhaps that hasty insult had been in poor taste.

“Idiot sounds about right,” the woman muttered woefully. She picked up a scrap of fabric from her “bed” and began dabbing the blood away from her shoulder, evidently needing none of his help. If Fenn had to describe the look she had, it would be one of a kicked puppy. He stepped back as she laughed and forcefully tossed the rag into the sink, unaware of how it narrowly missed the Fae’s head.

Her voice was husky with some sense of betrayal. “In the morning we will speak to Jack and Thom. Get your things, and by tomorrow night you’ll be out of here. For now, I think it best I get my energy. Goodnight, Fenn.”

He watched, frozen in place, as Amari buried herself in the pile of rags. She didn’t even look at him.

There was this slightly foreign feeling in his chest. It took a moment for him to recognize it. It was shame, he realized, his face falling. Embarrassment, he knew. Loss, he had lived through. But it wasn’t often that he had to face the fact that he had hurt someone like this. Normally, he was long gone before the consequences of his actions struck him. Yet here he was now, having hurt the one fucking person who had shown him some decency in here.

It couldn’t be certain how long Fenn stood there, clutching his hands over his heart with a broken look on his face. He wrapped his hands around himself and backed away. Fenn felt dirty inside again, even dirtier than being touched by the bandits made him feel. No, he decided, shuffling away, he would be better off leaving Amari at peace, by herself. Apologies were in order, but not when they needed sleep so badly.

The next morning, Amari would wake up to find the little Fae tucked away into one of the corners of the room, sleeping ill at ease without any sort of bed or blankets. The entire corner was plastered with frost and ice. Before going to bed, he had found a little jar of jam, which was now left out on the counter, the frost-bitten lid neatly replaced. By Fenn's sticky hands, a little message was smeared in the jam;

SORRY. DUMB FENN FUCKED UP.
ALSO SORRY FOR MESS. WILL CLEAN. FROST MIGHT NOT LASTED? DUMB OVEN.

Underneath it was a vague doodle of a sad face, a broken heart, a mop, and an arrow pointing to Fenn. Just in case she couldn’t understand the words.

[Mari]

Amari didn't exactly sleep well that night. Who could with someone knocking pots and pans around, clanking glasses and making an overall racket. and he's meant to be a damn adult Mari thought to herself. Finally, it silenced, and the faint smell of jam wrinkled her nose. Amari sat up. It was still dark. Why do I smell....Jam? silently she shifted from the rags and took a few steps

Squelch

Amari's face soured. Fenn had obviously written something with the Jam. Something that Amari had stepped in. Something she'd never read or see. She wasn't sure who she was more frustrated at, herself or him. "Stupid Amari strikes again..." She whispered to herself. Quickly working to mop and and clean the mess he'd left. Despite the low light Amari knew the kitchen back to front. She'd be able to prepare meals in the dead of night. She HAD prepared meals in the dead of night. She finished cleaning, and wiping the muck off her own foot. By now, daylight began to stream in through the window.

Amari started preparations for the day; first - was Coffee. Amari didn't exactly know what Coffee was, just that it was bitter and seemed to wake people up. It was supposedly a rarity in these parts. Stil, the bandits had two full bags of the beans - and upon finding out that the beans weren't as fresh as they once were. Had now demanded Amari prepare the bitter substence every morning. Amari poured the first batch into a series of cups and mugs. She set one steaming hot cup next to a sleeping Fen before moving out into the main mess hall. Quickly placing a single cup on each place around the table.

Heading back into the kitchen she fired up the oven and the grills. From an icebox she pulled out heaps of bacon, and threw them onto the frying pans. Stacking it high. The smell of the bacon and coffee began to waft through the kitchen. Even Amari's stomach growled. Alas, she were not privvy to such foods.

There was a small knock at the door, and Amari wiped her hands, leaving the bacon to sizzle. She opened it up a crack to see both Thom and Jack - each with a cup of coffee in their hands.

"Amari, 'ow goes?" Asked Jack. Amari signalled for him to be quiet, and pointed to the sleeping Fae in the corner of the room.

"Listen, we know yer probably attached to the kid, but we dun' like the idea of selling children." Thom interrupted. Straight to the point. "So we thinkin' of takin' the boy tonight, let 'im loose."

Amari gave a sigh. "That'll be hell for you two. First up. He's an adult. Second-" She paused, pointing to the barred window. "He's going to leave through there. Third - I actually need your help with something. He had clothes and a satchel. Can you fetch them for me?"

Thom and Jack shared concerned glances. They knew how much Amari was taking on herself. "Yer know thatta death sentence for you right?" Jack muttered. "If Gabe finds out you managed to break 'im free-"

Amari held up her hand. "Gabe wouldn't want to loose all I do. It means you'd go back to cooking your own meals and cleaning your own messes." She shooed them out the kitchen. "Go sit. Just get me what I asked for."

The two left, one of them joking about how she made a lot of orders for someone who was meant to be a slave. The other hit him across the side of the head.

"Right..." Amari muttered, glancing back to the corner. Fenn still appeared to be sleeping. Pretending or not - Amari didn't have the time to care. She headed back to the oven and shifted the large amounts of bacon to an oven tray. She lined them out evenly and drenched them in a thick maple syrup before setting them in the oven. Now, the eggs.

Amari started cracking eggs into the pans. Carefully shifting them from side to side so as not to break the yolks.

[FennWenn]

What little sleep Fenn got that night was troubled. It seemed that going to bed in such an emotional wreck had its consequences on one’s subconscious, for his dreams had been chased by intrusive memories of other things he would rather not remember. Fenn woke up with a weak fluttering of his eyelids to hushed voices. Moments stretched into infinity as the little Fae simply breathed and tried to get his bearings on reality. He found himself clutching his midsection, in that little hollow at the bottom of one’s ribcage.

A flash of sharp steel, an unheard scream rattling around in Fenn's chest, and the look of sheer shock on Raster’s face as he fell to the stone below, clutching the red stain on his breast.

It seemed he’d had that dream again. Best if he didn’t linger on it.

Fenn swallowed dryly and sat himself up, giving the window above the oven a listless stare as he rubbed his aching back. He smelled bacon. It seemed that Amari was already up, and had probably been up for a while; she was bathed in the morning light as she worked on breakfast for them and the bandits. Her cooking skill was evident in the practiced way she cracked eggs into the pans, absorbed in her task.

A cup of mysterious brown liquid sat next to him. Where was his message- Damnit. Fenn grimaced and wrapped his arms around his knees, biting back the shame welling up in his chest again. It must have gotten cleaned up. Had Amari seen it?
He anxiously sucked frozen jam off of his fingers and waited, watching her work. There was now a distance between them that wasn’t just physical. She probably hadn’t forgiven him, and he wasn’t sure he expected her to.

Rubbing his eyes, Fenn took the coffee and sipped from it curiously. It was still hot, even after coming in contact with his chilly touch, and strikingly bitter. Eugh. He gagged on it briefly before glancing guiltily back towards Amari. Without complaint, he choked down the rest of the drink.

The mysterious beverage gave him an unusual burst of energy, which was enough to boost him back to his feet. Fenn breathed deeply and walked over to the sink, setting his empty mug in it.

The boy sidled his way over to Amari, standing next to her shyly. He offered up a meek wave in a halfhearted attempt to make up with her. His hands shook, and he pointed to the food she was making. With bated breath, he make vague hand gestures resembling the cooking she was doing; he pointed between her and him and the food, praying that she wouldn't misinterpret him here.

Could he help? Something to do with himself at the moment would have been a reassuring thing.

What he still couldn’t get over was that during this whole agonic episode, an unfortunate implication had made itself clear; he really was as small, childish, and useless as he felt himself to be.

It was something he wouldn’t get away from, even if was able to escape the bandits later.

[Mari]

Mari glanced over her shoulder. Fenn had woken up and it looked like he was struggling to chug down the coffee she had given him. "You know, you're meant to wait for it to cool down a little first." She watched him gag on it. Clearly disliking the taste. His giant green orb like eyes glanced up at Amari. He quickly finished the rest of the cup. Mari sighed, wondering why he forced himself to drink something he didn't like, "It's fine - if you don't like it don't drink it. I don't like it either. Not that I'd be allowed to have any." She said with a shrug as she turned back to the eggs.

They were ready. She grabbed another large pan and started carefully sliding them into it; not that it'd matter. Once the bandits got to the food they'd messily grab what they could and devour it. No finesse. She left one aside on a smaller plate for Fenn, and one for herself.

A clatter bought her attention to the young. Scratch that. Middle aged Fae. He had dropped the empty cup into the sink. "Thanks." She turned to put the tray into the mess hall but paused. Fenn seemed to be bothered by something. SHe wasn't entirely sure what. He pointed to the food. "Oh? You wanna help?" Fenn glanced away. His lips pursed into a small pout.

"I'm afraid your abilities would mess up any hot food I'm making."

She watched as his ears drooped, his shoulders fell. He seemed to be very upset that he couldn't do anything. "I suppose...." Amari gestured toward the ice box with her head. "You could chill that some more. Saves me packing it with snow." The sounds of banter and jovial cheers started leaking in from the hall. Amari sighed. "I gotta take care of some things."

She pushed open the doors and disappeared into the mess hall. She returned, unharmed, moments later. No longer drunk and rowdy, the bandits were leaving Amari well enough alone. She shifted to the oven and using thick material, pulled the hot tray from it. she quickly gave Fenn's plate a heaping serve of the cripsy, glistening maple covered bacon and once again disappeared to serve it to the bandits.

Returning to the kitchen, she was glad to see he had not yet touched his food, he was sitting on the icebox; and it was quickly chilling and frosting over. He still held a grumpy look on his face. His arms crossed. "Good. Thanks." She offered him a small smile. It oddly enough, took a lot of effort to treat him like a fellow adult. Especially when he looked, and acted like such a spoilt child.

Amari added extra herbs and a touch of spice to FEnn's egg, a luxury she did not offer the bandits nor herself - before passing it to him. "Eat while its hot. You'll need all your strength today."

Amari, with her own dismal plate of a single plain egg sat nestled in the rags. With a fork she chopped it into smaller pieces, and slowly ate it. "After breakfast; Thom and Jack will return with your belongings. However; we can't make a move until nightfall."

[FennWenn]

Disappointment welled in Fenn's chest as Amari told him, quite frankly, that he would be no help in the kitchen. Duh. Though he had suspected as much, he could help but droop in disappointment. He folded his arms over each other, shoulders and ears sinking.

Amari’s gentle voice brought him out of his slump again. "I suppose..." she said with a hesitant headnod toward the icebox, "you could chill that some more. Saves me packing it with snow."

That was good enough for him! Fenn pumped his fist in the air excitedly, only to be startled back into a shy slouch by the racket that had begun again out into the halls. "I gotta take care of some things,” Amari told him, and pushed open the door to deal with the ruffians. Fenn saluted to her as she turned away and bounded off to the icebox. With renewed energy, the not-quite-boy placed a hand on the box and vaulted himself onto the top. There he sat, waiting and feeling briefly pleased to be of some use.

He did a thiiiiiiiing! Granted, it still wasn’t much. Nonetheless, it was something.
Now that he was up here, he mused, there wasn't much else to actually do but sit. After all, his magic pretty much did all the work for him. It crept over the sides of the box and trickled inside. Instant cold.

Fenn waited anxiously for Amari to come back, picking at a bit of fuzz on his floppy red shirt and kicking his feet. His grumpface was returning. Every time she walked out there, he worried that something was going to happen to her again - those men were animals at heart. Even this Jack and Thom he knew about could do nothing to rein them in.

With bated breath he watched as she came in to fetch the bacon, went back out again and served it, and came back unharmed. He let out a sigh of relief, his arms crossed together tightly. "Good,” Amari said upon seeing him sitting patiently. “Thanks." The small smile she gave him was enough to prompt him to lose the grumpy demeanor and beam down at her.
He slid off the icebox and landed lightly on his feet, springing up and bobbling over to Amari’s side again, watching her put the finishing touches on their breakfast.
She sprinkled some herbs and a pinch of spice on the egg she had prepared for him, something he hadn't seen her do for the bandits nor herself. His plate also had some delicious-smelling bacon on it, while hers just had eggs. "Eat while it's hot. You'll need all your strength today."

He nodded agreeably and took the plate she offered him; that was right, today would be the day he escaped this hellhole.

They plopped back down into the pile of fabric and started eating their food. As Fenn tore through most of his plate like a ravenous wolf, Amari chopped her abysmal meal into tiny nibbles and ate it, chewing thoughtfully. "After breakfast; Thom and Jack will return with your belongings. However; we can't make a move until nightfall,” she informed Fenn, watching him snarf down his eggs.

His stuff back? The thought made Fenn positively giddy with glee. Once she was finished talking, he nodded happily up at her and slyly slid the rest of his food onto her plate - a small portion of bacon and eggs. While he was still here with her, Fenn wanted to give Amari all of the good things he could. Gods knew she needed it.

Besides, it was a damn shame that she couldn't enjoy the best of her cooking. “Fenn, you don't have to do that,” she said as he gave her the bits, managing to keep a scolding tone out of her voice. “I was serious when I said that you'll need your strength for later.”

With a cheerful and dismissive shrug, he licked the remaining crumbs off of the plate - mmmm, tasty - and frosted it over, turning it into a makeshift doodling pad. Fenn sketched the window and made a thick arrow pointing to the bars, followed by a question mark. Amari leaned over to look at the etchings, understanding flashing across her face.
What were they to do about them, his pictures inquired, poking at the bandage wrapped around the finger of his less-dominant right hand. The memory of the sting made him grimace in pain all over again.

[Mari]

Amari tried to persuade Fenn that he would be better off eating the entirety of his meal. That she didn't exactly need it. Amari was more than used to eating a pittance by now. She ate what she was given, which was just enough. Just enough to survive, just enough to have the strength to perform her duties. No more. They had made that mistake. Leaving Amari lethargic and her body in a constant state of hunger made her more complacent.

Fenn was having none of it. He gave her an insistent scowl, and with a reluctant sigh - Amari slowly ate the shreds of bacon that Fenn had given her. "You know..." She muttered, "I'm surprised you don't choke - the way you scoff down food. Don't you want to savour the flavour?" In a way, she was scolding him - but the way a friend would another, not in an adult chastising a kid way.

Fenn glanced up from his frosted plate, giving her a wry look, seemingly appreciative of her attempt to treat him like an adult, the corners of his boyish mouth turned up into a smirk with a single raised eyebrow. Those small nuances showed his true age.

Fenn drew the bars, Amari's bi-coloured eyes travelled up to them. What to do indeed. "They're old. Slightly rusted. I was considering having you freeze them, so we could...." She paused, trailing off. "I think that'd ruin their integrity I guess...I mean the snow's done that enough as is...but..." She trailed off. Glancing down at his finger. "That's not an option. I don't even know if it'd work."

She stood and placed her plate in the sink. Then, in a much more dainty fashion lifted herself up onto the oven, being careful not to set on the cooling iron bars of the oven. She inspected the bars. "Mmmm..." She reached out and tried to shake one loose, but it didn't move. "Maybe we could heat them up? Would that work?"

She glanced down at Fenn, who once again, was looking at her like she was starkers, bonkers, the right old idiot. It was clear she wasn't very well educated. He gave her a slow nod.

"Right..."

Amari carefully climbed down from the oven. "We will figure out a way to do that, hopefully the ice won't melt, and the water douse whatever it is we use to heat the iron bars." Amari was thinking aloud as she began to fill the sink with water. The sounds of clattering and men leaving signalling that it was time for her to start her daily chores.

"Once everyone clears out, if you want to help me - collect the dishes. Leave the cutlery, I'll grab that."

[FennWenn]

Escape, escape, escape. The only thing standing between Fenn and the delicious freedom he so craved was those stupid iron bars.

Amari gazed up at them with him, the gold flickers in her eyes twinkling as they reflected the pale sunlight. "They're old,” she said thoughtfully. “Slightly rusted. I was considering having you freeze them, so we could… I think that'd ruin their integrity I guess… I mean the snow's done that enough as is… but..." Her voice kept fading away with uncertainty. Fenn sighed and stared down at his burned digit with her. "That's not an option. I don't even know if it'd work."

As Amari went to put away her plate, the Fae shrugged and peered under his frozen bandage. His burn was still black, and the skin was crispy and stiff. Gross. He made a face and replaced the wrappings carefully, making a note to himself to give Amari a few of the cheap strips of bandage he had stashed somewhere in his satchel in turn. It only seemed fair to return her favor.

The next time Fenn looked at Amari, there she was, standing on the oven and taking a careful look at the rusty bars. Humans didn't have fucking ice powers, he thought, startled. There was this twitchy knee jerk reaction in him to get her off of there right away, but… she seemed able to handle herself here. Her feet were away from the coils, and the oven was cool enough over all. He wondered, rubbing the back of his neck with a wobbly smile, if that had been how she had felt about seeing him climb onto the hot surface for the first time.

"Mmmm..." she muttered, shaking the bar. "Maybe we could heat them up? Would that work?"

Fenn snorted and gave her a slow nod back, nearly equivalent to a shrug. He’d read somewhere that rapid heating and cooling had some sort of effect on metal. What was it? Shattering, breaking, weakening? Either way, it was the only idea they had to work with at the moment, even if it didn’t seem the most workable.

Just when he was about to bend down and etch another reply on the floor, there was a ruckus from outside as the band of bandits wrapped up their breakfast and left the building. Fenn shuddered to think of what sorts of things they were going out and doing. Amari hopped down and began running water into the sink. As she began mixing up soapy water for the dishes she would have to deal with, she continued talking to Fenn. "We will figure out a way to do that, hoping that the melting ice won’t douse whatever it is we use to heat the iron bars," she told him confidently.

The Fae gnawed on one of his ragged fingernails, looking skeptical. He was more worried about getting something powerful enough to heat the iron in the first place. It was doubtful that a torch or candle would be anything near enough…

On second thought, he realized, there was a better way to deal with this mess than with fire. His eyes lit up with delight.

"Once everyone clears out, if you want to help me - collect the dishes," Amari said, opening the door with wet hands and peering out at the mess the bandits made. The tables they had eaten at weren’t very clean; syrup dribbled off the edges of plates, and there were flecks of scrambled eggs by the forks. Fenn nodded back at her vacantly, listening just enough to understand what she asked of him. Already, he was forming a plan in his head. “Leave the cutlery, I'll grab that. Okay?”

He nodded and bounced over to the nearest table, taking the plates from it and stacking them up in his arms. These plates were way bigger than the ones Amari had him eat off of! The tiny Fae staggered back to the kitchen after her, just barely able to carry all twelve of the plates without dropping any.

They set the dinnerware on the counter. Fenn peered into the sink with a little frown. Obviously, him sticking his hands into the dishwater was a no-no. That was okay - he had other things to work on. While Amari dealt with the dirty dishes, Fenn began rushing around, so excited as to become briefly oblivious to anything besides his work.

He bobbled back over to the cupboards and grabbed another jar of jam. There was a foxish quality to his smirk as he kneeled down on the floor and poured some of it out - if he was going to write out this idea of his for Amari to see, he couldn’t have it melting on him. Once it had spread out enough, he stuck his fingers in the puddle and outlined in a mix of pictures and words, working fast enough to draw down everything he needed to before the jelly froze solid to the stones.

What was another mess when he had the perfect plan to show Amari? (Besides, he resolved that he would clean this one up himself.)

Once it was written out, he stood up and looked it over once more, turning several points over in his brain again and again. Though Fenn couldn’t directly touch the iron, his frost would definitely be able to creep up the bars if he touched the window sill.
He leapt onto the oven and peered at the bars again for a moment; just as he thought, they were installed a bit messily. There was a bit of a gap between them and the stone they were inset into, and they were surprisingly close to the inside edge of the window. Dangerously close.

The expansivity of ice was a powerful force, Fenn knew. If they could get some liquid inside the cracks and freeze it, it might just crumble the wall at the base of the bars. There was a chance that the bars would then become loose enough to pull out. Once they were gone, and he had his stuff back, Fenn'd be happily on his way.

If Mari decided to look at the jelly smears he had left behind, it was a jumbled mess of words and pictures, the latter of which depicted a jar of jam poured onto the bars, a close-up of the cracks between the bars and the stone, and a crossed-out picture of a fire next to the word SORRY. Evidently, he had this more or less figured out.

[Mari]

Amari watched as Fenn went out to grab the plates. It was a small gesture, but she figured he’d want to help her in some way. Despite knowing his real age, it was difficult to see him in such a way. The way the fae man bounced around, the earnest expressions on his face. The way his eyes lit up at the simplest of notions - it was a childlike innocence Amari had lost long, long ago.

As Fenn returned with the plates Amari helped him, and dumped them into the water to soak. She quickly left and returned with the cutlery, placing them to the side. “I still need to clean the hall. Damnit…” she muttered, “I swear they shove half into their mouths, and the other they throw onto the floor.”

She started cleaning the dishes, setting them on the rack beside her to dry. She was faintly aware of Fenn rattling around behind her - but she didn’t have the time to pause. She had to finish the dishes, clean the mess hall, clean the kitchen, wash their clothes, prepare lunch - do all the cleaning, again


“I hate this place...You’re lucky you can escape.” Amari muttered bitterly - her back still toward him. If Amari could fit between those bars, she would have weaseled her way out months, years ago.

With a sigh, Amari placed the last dish beside her, wiping her hands on a towel. “There.” She turned around, “I need to clean the mess hall, if you want to help I-” She paused.


More mess. More Precious jam wasted.

Amari went through a myriad of looks which were clearly portrayed on her face. Surprise, frustration, worry….finally she settled back on annoyance.

“Fenn…” She muttered.

“You do realize this is going to get me in trouble right? They keep inventory of this, they’re going to assume I’ve gorged on two jars of jam.” She approached the messy drawings, kneeling down to inspect them. “Because of this. Because of you. I’m probably not going to eat for a few days when they find out.” She muttered. She was blunt, but she was frustrated. This was the second time in the same number of days. “Aren’t you supposed to be an adult?”

She shook her head, muttering an apology. “Sorry. It was uncalled for.” She glanced down at his scrawlings. Her brows furrowed. He crossed out the fire. Assumedly, heat was a no go. He drew what looked like a jar of jam, followed by the words sorry. “Mmm..” Amari got up, wandered over to the sink and picked up the wash cloth. She headed back to the jam smeared over the tiles and began to scrub it off.

As Amari was scrubbing, the door to the mess hall creaked open. Thom poked his head through the door. “Yo, can’t stay long.” He produced a familiar satchel and dropped it on the floor, noticing Amari scrubbing the floor he gave her a puzzled look. “Not like you ta make a mess Amari.”

“No, it’s not.” She said, glancing up at him then the satchel. “Is that all of his belongings?” She darted her eyes to Fenn. Who seemed elated at the sight of his bag.

“Aye, his clothes are in there. We got a hike ahead o’ us. If ye give us an hour, that should give ya a good chance to get the boy out.” He gave a nod to Fenn. His voice turning stern.

“Hope yer appreciate this.”

And with that, he shut the door. Leaving Amari and Fenn alone once more.

Amari gestured to the bag with her head, her hands still busy cleaning up his mess. “Go check to see if everything’s there. I’ll finish up here.”

[FennWenn]

Fenn waited cheerfully by the escapade plans he had formed, rocking a little in place as Amari turned to see them. “I need to clean the mess hall, if you want to help I-” she began, his genius stealing the breath from her. Or, so he thought at first. Her face was not displaying the wonder at his plans that he had expected. A few different emotions cycled over her countenance, quickly deciding upon “ticked”.

The best response he had to this odd negativity was to slump over in a way that made him look and feel even smaller, his sticky-cold hands clasped sheepishly behind his back. It seemed that there were some things he had not taken into account when he was busy with his plans.

“Fenn…” she muttered bluntly as she bent over to inspect his work. “You do realize this is going to get me in trouble right? They keep inventory of this, they’re going to assume I’ve gorged on two jars of jam.” Shit. Fenn stopped rocking and stood stiffly on end. The self-satisfied smile was slapped clean off his face by her words. “Because of this. Because of you. I’m probably not going to eat for a few days when they find out. Aren’t you supposed to be an adult?”

The last sentence stung quite a bit. He wasn't really sure what he was or wasn't supposed to be right now.

Fenn kind of wanted to slam his head into the wall. Now he was the idiot for not noting the obvious, wasn't he? Hiding a pinched grimace of panic, Fenn turned away and chewed at the nubs of his fingernails. Amari piped up again. “Sorry. It was uncalled for.” It wasn't. He waved a hand with a cracked casual demeanor, dismissing the add-on. A glance over his shoulder revealed that she was still looking at his scribbles. Gods, he hoped that she understood enough of his scrawl.

As she began scrubbing it up, the Fae rushed to the sink, hoping there was a second washcloth in there. A mocking voice in the back of his head told him he’d be very helpful if he licked up the jam instead. He brushed it off with a sharp shake of his head - he was “supposed to be an adult”. But before he could he even do any washcloth-grabbing or otherwise try to fix his mess, the door to the hall creaked open.

For a moment, he was terrified by the thought that Gabe was about to peer in, and that his carelessness would throw her into even more trouble. Instead, it was merely Thom. Clutched in his hands was Fenn's beloved bag, which he dropped to the ground. The Fae quivered in happy surprise. “Yo, can’t stay long,” Thom said, eying the messy floor with puzzlement. “Not like you ta make a mess Amari.”

Were it that he could, Fenn would have explained that the mess was a product of a brainstorming he hadn't quite thought through. “No, it’s not,” Mari replied in his place. Grayish flush tinged his cheeks, and he was torn between embarrassment at his mistake and his excitement at seeing his stuff again.

His love of his stuff won out. “Is that all of his belongings?” Mari asked as the tiny Fae dove for his bag, flipping it open to rummage through and make sure that his hoar- er, collection was all there. He barely listened as Thom continued on. “Aye, his clothes are in there. We got a hike ahead o’ us. If ye give us an hour, that should give ya a good chance to get the boy out.”

Fenn glanced up in time to catch Thom’s nod and the hardness in his voice. “Hope yer appreciate this.”

The Fae nodded back sagely and stuck his head into the opening of his satchel. It’s familiar, musty smell made him feel better already. He sighed and removed his head, hugging the satchel tightly as he noted that Thom had already left. Amari caught his gaze gestured to his bag with her head, still working away at the jam on the floor. It was melting now. He really wished he’d just risked the melt and gone with frost in the first place. “Go check to see if everything’s there. I’ll finish up here,” she said, working at the jam-smeared stone.

Way ahead of her. Fenn sifted through the contents of his satchel with a critical eye; someone had pulled out his food and his miscellaneous bits of cheap jewelry, but the rest of his trinkets were thankfully left alone. That was a relief. He smiled and supposed that none of the bandits had been particularly interested in brass pins, empty wallets, bottle corks, snailshells, buttons, or…

Oh, right. The Fae rolled his eyes. That stuff was “junk” to them. To him, they were memories.

He held up a pair of gray marbles and peered through their glossy surface. These, for instance, came from that time he had wandered through a small, brier-strewn village and- on second thought, he didn't want to recall that escapade at the moment. Best to save that for any time he needed a horror story.

Time to stop goofing off. Fenn replaced his trinkets and pulled out a few strips of random and wildly colorful cloth - “bandages” - and his clothes. He grinned down at his white shirt and his tattered green cloak. They had even found his breeches and tucked them in there as well. Making sure that Mari wasn't looking at him, he threw off the red shirt he had borrowed earlier and pulled on his own clothes. Having his things back made him feel complete again. Slinging his satchel over his shoulder, he picked up the bright “bandages” and tore over to the pantry, slipping them in with the rest of Mari’s stuff. Since his finger was okay for the moment, he took the frozen frozen wrappings off of his hand and replaced them as well.

If only he could do more. He wouldn't have time to help her with the mess hall, not if they wanted him out of here before the bandits came back. They only had an hour.

Fenn padded over to the watery puddle that had mostly replaced his jam mess and kneeled down in front of Amari. Her multihued eyes, still dulled with annoyance, focused up on him.
His hands were clasped together in a quiet plead for forgiveness. He glanced down at the last dab of jam and swiped it up with the corner of his stained cloak, looking back up at her expectantly.

How would they proceed forward next?

[Mari]

Amari continued to slowly clean up the mess- the hot water melted the ice crystals that was once a strawberry jam. Amari sighed. When was the last time she actually had jam? Memories of her and her brother, sneaking in late night snacks in their adolescence filtered into her mind. Amari stopped cleaning.

Leaning back she exhalled again; she missed those days. She missed her brother, gods be damned she even missed her father. Amari wasn’t entirely sure why she hadn’t been found - why her brother hadn’t tried looking for her, but she had to hold out some sort of hope - that she’d be wrenched free from this piss soaked hell hole. She shifted her gaze to Fenn. He was going through his belongings, carefully inspecting them. It was difficult to see him as anything other than a child, what with the way he acted - how easily he shied away from conflict. Amari couldn’t blame him, this place...it bought out the worst in people.

Amari couldn’t imagine anything worse than being stuck here.

Amari had grown used to this place, she had learned real quick to harden up, she had always been steadfast. Her brother complaining that she was too strong willed. Amari feared that Fenn wasn’t the same. He seemed so timid at times and it took a great deal of effort not to bring the fae child..err..adult into her bosom and comfort him.

He’s an adult.

Amari had to remind herself. Constantly of this fact. She glanced up as he shifted, placing what looked like tatterd rags into her belongings. She pursed her lips, repeating the thoughts in her head as though they were a mantra.

He’s an adult.


Fenn padded over to her apologetically, kneeling in front of her as though he were begging for forgiveness.

He’s an adult.

She reached out to him.

He’s a mother fucking adult.

She ruffled his hair and offered him a small smile.

He’s an adult. But I can’t help my damn self.

“It’s fine.” She stood, allowing the rag to sit on the floor. “I fall into habbits, cleaning and such.” Her eyes drifted up to the bars. “We should focus on getting you out whilst we still can. I didn’t really understand a lot of what you drew.”

Amari headed toward the oven and lit the burnersl grabbing pans out from the cupboard she filled them with water. “But, first, we’re going to melt as much of that water and ice away from the bars as we can. It’s daytime, so the water won’t freeze for a while.” She glanced over at Fenn. “Pending magical fairy men interferring.” She mused with a wry grin.

It was clear that she was trying to make up for her earlier outburst with forced pleasentries. Amari didn’t know what the hell she was doing, she didn’t really know how Fenn was going to escape. She was worried for his safety. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was worried about her own. When Gabe learns that she helped him escape…

It was best not to think about it.

The various pots began to boil, and Amari - using another rag wrapped the handles and turned the oven off. She began to procarious climb onto the oven to reach the iron bars. She had to be careful, one wrong step and she’d end up with a- “FUCK!”

Amari almost dropped the pot she was holding. She did exactly what she had vowed not to. The side of her heel had landed on one of the coils. “Shit…” She hissed, she had no time to worry about the pain. WIth shaky hands she sat the pot on top of the windowsill. Ice began to melt and slide down into the kitchen. The heat from the metal alone was enough.

Amari’s legs buckled and she had to hobble off the oven, collapsing into the pile of rags that served as her bed and living quarters.

“Shit…” The burn wasn’t too bad, but her skin was red, and parts of it had peeled away. It wasn’t long enough, nor deep enough to sustain any lasting damage, but it still hurt.

It was just one thing after another.

“Give me a minute...then I’ll…” She paused. Glancing back up at the iron bars.

Melting the ice with a heat source?
Check.

Removing the bars?
Not a clue.

“Wanna explain your plan again, Fenn?”

[FennWenn]

Tense frost flickered on the floor around Fenn's bare feet as he waited, watching as Amari busied about beginning their escape plan.

Even if he had yet again failed to communicate properly - which was quietly driving him up the walls - Amari had a good idea of where to begin. The burners were lit, and she had pulled out some pots and pans from the cupboard, filling them with water and placing them on the coils of the oven. Soon, the air was filled with the sound of boiling, bubbles burbling to the surface of the water and bursting. “First, we’re going to melt as much of that water and ice away from the bars as we can. It’s daytime, so the water won’t freeze for a while,” she said with a glance back at Fenn and a teasing smile. “Pending magical fairy men interfering.”

He mirrored her with a grin of his own, making an anxious gesture between him and the bars. Interfere he would, as soon as she was done clearing the cold and snow that was already by the bars away.

Watching Amari climb the oven gave him the same slightly-nervous feeling as the first time she did it. It was somewhat subdued now, mostly by the fact that she seemed to be competent enough to avoid burning herself on the coi- “FUCK!”

Reflexively, Fenn winced and clapped his hands over his ears at the piercing cry.

Amari fumbled with the boiling pot in her hands and hastily managed to place it on the windowsill, glancing down at her feet for long enough to call Fenn's attention to the source of her shout; her heel had slipped and grazed the coil. Personal experience allowed him to imagine how much such a burn would hurt, even if it was from heat and not from iron. Fenn winced sympathetically.

As the ice around the bars began to drip and slough off in watery chunks, Amari hobbled her way off of the oven and back towards the cloth bed.
For a moment, Fenn followed along, hovering over her as she inspected the new wound. “Give me a minute...then I’ll…” she muttered to him. There was pain evident in her voice as she looked back to the window. “Wanna explain your plan again, Fenn?”

He gave her a slightly helpless look back, gnawing on the nubs of his fingernails. Was there time to explain? Would it do them any good at this point? Time was slipping away, and the next part of the process was up to him anyway. Besides, she needed a spot of medical attention.

Fenn shot her an apologetic shrug and dashed over to the cupboard. He pulled out the bandages that had been wrapped around his hand but a bit before. They were now a melted, sopping heap, but refroze as soon as he touched them.

That was something like an ice pack, right?

Carrying the wad of frozen fabric back to Amari, Fenn glanced back over to the window, watching the ice and snow run in little rivulets down the wall. He hoped that the water now seeping into the cracks of the wall and the spaces between the stone and the bars would be enough. At the edge of the cloth bed, Fenn handed Amari the frozen wad of bandages, patted her on the head, and hurried back to the oven without explanation.

He hopped onto the stove - taking great care not to touch the still-glowing coils - and peered at the ice melt breathlessly. With a glance back at Amari and a thumbs-up, the tiny Fae took the boiling pot carefully by the handle and poured out the rest of the water onto the bars. What little ice remained hissed and sizzled as it melted. He set the pot down on the oven and cracked his knuckles.

Fenn grinned and placed his hands on the wet windowsill into the pooling water. It abruptly cooled, and quickly iced over under his cold touch and force of will. The ice was more than surface level - it forced its way into the cracks between the wall and the bars.

If only he had a better reign on his power! Using it like this was a delight. It made him feel big.
If only it was stronger! Imagine the havoc he could wreak then...

The suddenly-expanding ice was bigger than the space containing it, and it refused to be restrained. Much like himself, Fenn thought with a grin. Stone shifted and bulged outward a bit, new cracks running along the surface and small chunks of the wall falling off. It had been weakened by the first bout of warmth and rushing water. It was just enough - now, the stone around the bars was weak enough for them to be potentially pried out by force.

Not by Fenn though. Even without his iron “allergy”, he doubted he had enough strength in his scrawny arms to do the task.

He sighed and shifted aside to show Amari his work, a little bit of pride gleaming in his gaze anyway.

[Mari]

Amari took the frozen tattered strips between thumb and forefinger. Looking at them disdainfully. She held it away from her as though it were diseased, some of the bandages still had parts of Fenn’s blood and skin frozen to it. She could appreciate the sentiment, but there was no way in hell she was going to put it against her own burn. She gingerly set it down beside her. “Thanks…” She muttered, in no attempt to hide her disgust at the unusual gesture. “Next time, maybe something….a little less bloody, eh Fenn?”


He didn’t give her a reply. Once again - he seemed lost in his own little world. The Fae child hopped up onto the stove. The shards of ice that flew off from his feet and crept up to the cooling iron of the oven gave Amari a sense of peace. Unlike her, there was no real way for him to burn himself on the coils. “You ever practise that skill?” Amari asked curiously, she knew she wouldn’t get an answer, but it was good food for thought for the Fae. “That latent ability, it’s so powerful in its raw state. I’m sure if you practised it - you wouldn’t need to rely on anyone. You’d just be able to sorta…”

Amari waved her arms uselessly in the air. “Shoot the bars clean away with sheer ice force.”

She sighed softly, watching him work. What did she have? Some useless ability to shift damn flower petals around. Nothing like he had. If she had such raw power, Amari vowed that she would put it to good use. To ensure that others were never in her position.

“It really is something…” She mumbled with a sigh. As he finished, or appeared to be finished Amari pushed herself up off the rags. Gingerly putting weight on her swollen and burnt ankle.


“You’re almost free.” Amari said, offering Fenn a disheartened smile. In truth, a part of her didn’t want him to go. She finally had constant, amicable company. She had someone to talk to. Even if they did leave jars of jam smeared over the floor.

Instead of heading toward the window Amari picked the half empty jar of Jam off the floor, then his precious shoulder bag. Amari shoved the jam into the bag then headed toward the pantry. “You like shiny things, yeh?” She asked with her back turned to him.

Opening the pantry she pulled out the small box of odds and ends, burrying through it she pulled out a small locket necklace. She let it dangle to and fro, turning to Fenn. It’s chain was dirtied, as was the locket. Underneath the dirt and grime was pure gold. It was a mystery as to why the bandits didn’t take it.

“Here.”

Amari pressed a small knob on the side of the oval shaped locket, and it clicked open. “You can even put something inside.” She dropped it into his bag. “I have no use for it.”

She closed the pantry and headed back toward the oven and window. Heaving herself up on it. Fenn delicately moved to the side. Giant green eyes watching her with subdued amazement, at least it looked like that to her.

Amari lifted the bag and carefully pushed it between the bars. She noted Fenn’s sudden panicked look, and reassured him. “It’s fine. You’re following soon after, right?” Another subdued smile.

She turned her attention back to the bars. Wrapping two small hands around one she jerked back with all her might. With great effort, it shifted and finally came loose. Amari toppled back, falling off of the oven. Luckily, the coils had cooled down enough to not inflict any further burns on her, and the fall hadn’t hurt her. Let’s face it, if she got hurt every time she did something it’d get old fast. Amari was accident prone, but she wasn’t made out of porcelain.

“One down!” Amari said, waving the bar to and fro.

Without delay she pushed herself up and repeated the steps to dislodge the second bar. Now, the gap was big enough for Fenn to squeeze through, but he still risked being burnt. “One more bar should do it.”

Amari wrapped her arms around it, but didn’t pull. She lowered her head and sighed. Speaking her feelings. “Fenn, for what it’s worth. You were incredibly frustrating to be around. Misleading, annoying, and you made so much more work.” She paused, lifting her head up to glance sideward at him. “But it’s the most enjoyable few days that I have had in a very long time - and despite the circumstances. I hope you look at this with some sort of fond --------” Her last words were drowned out by a very familiar shout.

“WHAT. THE. FUCK. IS GOING ON IN MY DAMN BASE WRENCH?” There was a slam, and heavy foosteps thudded toward the door. It was Gabe.

Amari acted, she picked Fenn up and shoved the Fae through the small gap. She winced when she heard the sizzle of his upper arm as it grazed against the metal bars. There was no more time.

“If only I kept my damn mouth shut…” she muttered. Cursing herself for her sentimentality. If she hadn’t gotten all emotional the third bar would have been removed, and Fenn could have escaped without harm.

Just as his butt wriggled through the door to the kitchen burst open.

There stood Gabe, furious. Longsword in hand. “I Thought I saw somthin’ amiss. The fuck is this?”

“Run. Don’t look back. Don’t stop.” She whispered to Fenn.

TUrning her back on the window Amari hissed at Gabe. “I’m doing what’s right! Living beings..slave trading is fucked up Gabe and you know it!”

Gabe rose his weapon, “Aye, and I don’t think you know yer place!”

He ran at her and Amari, for the first time in a long time was fearful for her life. She should have guessed that her personality would eventuall get to him. She gave a shrill scream shielding herself.

At the last moment, Gabe flicked his blade, the tip tore through her forearm and blood splattered the walls and through the window. He hit her hard with the hilt of the weapon and she fell down in a slump. Unconscious.

Gabe spat on her and pulled her off the oven. “Bitch.”

He turned to attempt to recover his property. The Fae child. He burst through the small tavern that served as their base and attempted to follow Fenn. At that point, any traces of the boy were gone.

“YER BETTER RUN, IF WE FIND YER- WE’LL TAKE YER HANDS AND FEED EM TO THE WOLVES.” He shouted into the blizzard wastelands.

Amari may lie unconscious; and she may be punished.

No.

Will be punished for her transgressions…

But Fenn was free.

Freedom was something everyone should experience.

It’s a shame its not the same for Amari.

For Amari; there was simply..

Snow way out.

[FennWenn]

As the bars came out, one by one, Fenn stood a little off to the side. He waved his arms in sheer joy, silently cheering Amari on as she pried the sticks of metal out of the wall. It was gratifying, ever-so-satisfying to watch her pluck them out. The air around Fenn briefly swarmed with smug specks of snow. And when Amari spoke to him directly, all he could do was flush grey and cover his face with his hands. Though he wanted to be freed, he almost wanted to stay, if only to keep her company more. But, that just wasn't how things worked here...

Evidently, nothing worked here. Before Amari could pull the last bar free, the most terrible sounds stopped them short.
“WHAT. THE. FUCK. IS GOING ON IN MY DAMN BASE WRENCH?” Gabe’s voice, slamming door, thudding footsteps. It was at that moment that Fenn knew they were screwed. Before he understood what she was doing, Amari acted. She picked him up and forced him partially through the window face-first, his arm grazing the last iron bar. He flailed a little in surprise, but otherwise he didn't resist.

“Run. Don’t look back. Don’t stop,” said Amari’s voice in a husky whisper.

Fenn fell forth from the window, landing with a noiseless gasp into a pile of slightly-slushy snow below. The cold sludge that was his blood beat fast with fear through his heart as he shakily stood and pressed a hand to his new burn.

Amari!

He hesitated to flee, transfixed by the awful noise within the base. There was calamitous shouting, followed by a high scream that had to be Amari. A spatter of blood flew from the broken window, and a few drops landed next to his feet. Fenn flinched and stagger away from it. There was a trembling in his chest, a sense of horror that seeped into him like the fresh blood into the snow. Gods, no, he thought as he backed away, clutching his chest. The little Fae paled, staring up at the window. Not again, please.

It seemed that his freedom had come with a sickening price. Amari.

“Bitch,” came Gabe’s rough voice from inside.

Fenn, for what it’s worth. You were incredibly frustrating to be around. Misleading, annoying, and you made so much more work. But it’s the most enjoyable few days that I have had in a very long time - and despite the circumstances. I hope you look at this with some sort of fond…

Her voice echoed in his head. Those last words made him want to sob. It wasn't the first time someone had died on him like this, but it wasn't any easier than the last. That locket was still in his bag, he knew. That pretty, gold locket. It seemed only right to take it out and place it over his head. It frosted over and settled snuggly between his shirt and chest.

He… he didn't want it getting lost with his other stuff. Amari needed someone to remember her by.

Fenn hurriedly brushed the impending tears from his eyes and started away. There was no more time for sentimentality. If she was dead, she was dead, and it wouldn’t be long before Gabe was after him next.

Hastily, the Fae summoned a Glamour around himself and dashed off. If anyone glanced his way, all they would see was a white northern fox, dashing through the snow with an unspoken sorrow in its eyes. His cloak dragged in the snow behind him, lightly covering his tracks. It wouldn't trick a competent tracker, but it would hopefully fool those dimwits that dared to dub themselves “bandits”.

Gabe was out there, screaming bloody murder about feeding his hands to the wolves. A bitter laugh smothered in Fenn's chest as he loped through the snow. If only that sorry man knew how often he got those kinds of threats. He wished with a venomous snarl that this loss would sting the bandit leader for years to come. Fenn would be the one that got away, even if Amari wasnt.

The locket bumped against his chest as he ran, a gentle thumping heartbeat alongside his own. He would be more careful from here on out. There was snow way to forget the deaths on his hands.

[Gnarl & Root]

Name of Judgment: Snow Way Out (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?31502-Snow-Way-Out-(Mari))
Type of Judgment: Basic Judgment
Participants: FennWenn (http://www.althanas.com/world/member.php?18820-FennWenn) & Mari (http://www.althanas.com/world/member.php?18816-Mari)

Fennik Glenwey

Strengths

• Getting into who Fenn was and his enjoying his innocence was achieved very quickly here. You started the story with interest and made the reader feel sorry for Fenn. While unable to speak, you displayed his feelings and emotions simply but rather well, and while maybe not going into too much depth, you gave enough.

• Your characters actions and story-telling is good. Everything was clear and easy to understand, with no real confusion or stuttered flow throughout. As much as some writers try to add so much flare and special descriptions, sometimes it doesn't need anything more than just stating 'this is what happened'. While practice makes perfect, what you did here was an easy read and that is to your compliment.

• You ended strongly, and while a little sudden, it made this reader want to find out more. The main question being, 'Will Fenn come back for her?' You also displayed some nice technique here with your final sentence which added nicely to the feeling of this story. I would like to find out what happens in the future.


Weaknesses

• While acknowledging what your other writer has done/ written is important, you delve too deep into this. This reader found the start of your posts difficult to read when the story repeated itself from your point of view and had very little to add. If you are going to play out a scene from your character's point of view, it needs to have a reason for the reader to read it. Maybe something that Fenn did to develop his personality or something significant he may have been doing that the other character never noticed.

• Your paragraphing, while not entirely bad, was inconsistent. Some paragraphs are spaced away, and others are not. I wouldn't dock you too harshly for this on a bigger judgment, but it does stand out and look rather odd when reading through. This is something you did rather consistently throughout all your posts, and when done poorly can cause confusion for your scenes and speech.

• This reader enjoyed your style and noted it complimented your character. However, since this was an emotional story, and one that honestly felt rather sad - especially the ending. There wasn't a whole lot of technique used to drag the story up or down emotionally from yourself. This may have been hampered somewhat by your repetition of Mari's posts. While concentrating on ensuring you met her posts you missed out on adding in some additional flare/emotion at key moments.


Amari Ciel L'Olfsden

Strengths

• All of the dialogue throughout was great. You brought so much to life with not only Amari's speech but all of the characters. It added to not only the emotion of the story but the setting of where they actually were. Speech is a clever device, and you use it powerfully and cleverly.

• Amari was an intriguing character, and she developed throughout the story. You gave more depth as the story continued: little comments, little thoughts, and feelings that she displayed as everything played out. These not only brought her to life but made her feel believable. In the end, this reader felt very sorry to have her left behind.

• Your style complimented the initial setting by Fenn and then added to it effectively. One thing that made you stand out was the darker emotional feeling you gave the reader, of not only Amari but of the setting in general. It felt horrid, bleak and disgusting. This helped greatly with the story and drew me into wanting to know more about Amari.


Weaknesses

• While I can see you know the general rules of grammar, it is obvious by the sheer amount of errors that you haven't proofread anything. A bigger judgement would dock you a lot of marks here, but while a little messy, it never ruined the story and nothing was difficult to understand. This is merely small spelling mistakes, incorrect capital letters and overused punctuation etc, but if you desire for higher marks in future, you will need to focus on this.

• You added in your internal thought within your writing, and while sometimes it flowed appropriately, other times it did not. This interrupted the flow and made this reader re-read a few lines from confusion. From a readers point of view, you should try set a distinct way of marking any internal speech to make it easy to read. Some people use italics for example.

• This may well apply to the both of you, but for all the good that came through your characters dialogue and her drive to do the right thing for Fenn - there was little in the way of key scenes that dragged the story up or down. Granted, you are in a single place and it is the growing relationship between your characters that becomes the focus of the story. However, it is the scenes and situations that happen within this scenario that bring the intrigue or the growth of the story. Not a lot really happened, and to make this story stand out strong, it needed something more significant.

Rewards:

FennWenn gains:
1027 Exp
140 Gold

Mari gains:
1040 Exp
130 Gold

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

All rewards added!