Page 4 of Ice Bound

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Anna scarce recognized her land as she walked to the barn the next morning. Everything was blanketed in snow. The barn and house wore new white caps, complemented by jagged ice beards around their eaves. In some places, the weather-worn handles of tools jutted up out of the snow like forgotten grave markers. The sky overhead was still a threatening gray, though the few snowflakes that fell seemed lonely and lost as they drifted on the light wind. She didn't think the storm was done yet.

She stopped before the large barn door and cracked it open.

"Hello?" she called.

"I didn't want to wake you," he said from behind her.

Anna spun quickly, hands rising to her chest as she fell backwards against the door. It shut with aclackthat she couldn't hear over the thunder of her pounding heart.

She hadn't seen him on her short walk over, hadn't heard his approach.

"I apologize." Head tipped down as though in a nod, he regarded her cautiously.

"It's all right. I just...I didn't expect you to be out in the cold. I thought..." She pushed herself off the door, tugging down her skirts. "There's breakfast inside."

He didn't reply. Instead, his cloak parted, and he raised a pair of rabbits dangling from a bit of rope.

"Oh!"

"They are for you."

"Oh," she said again. Looking up from the rabbits, she forced a smile. "Thank you." He had hunted? In such weather? The man was either remarkable or a fool.

Neledrim nodded, waving her towards the house with his empty hand. She'd only managed a few clumsy steps before he was in front of her. Snow crunched, obscured by his cloak, but she found her path made easier by his efforts.

"One of the disadvantages of being as short as I am. Thank you."

"A pleasure," he replied. He opened the door and stood aside, allowing her in.

Her shoulder brushed his chest as she moved past, sending a curious but pleasant chill up her spine. He smelt of fresh-fallen snow, pine, and pure river water.

Hurrying further inside, she removed her snow-crusted boots, glancing behind her.His boots were free of snow when he crossed the threshold. She must have been too preoccupied to hear him bang them out.

Crossing the room to the fire, she occupied herself by filling two bowls with porridge. It had been years since her last guest, so she decided to add a few nuts and the last of her cream to each.

She watched him set the rabbits on the chopping block. When was the last time Anna had tasted meat of any sort? She depended on the chickens and cows for eggs and cream, and had never found the heart to take knife to any of them. Davis had always been the hunter, the butcher.

"Here. Sit, please."

They sat together at the table, steaming bowls of porridge in front of them. His eyes were upon her once more, and she felt her cheeks warm. She was unused to such open attention.

"The storm has granted us a reprieve," he said. "But it won't last long." He leaned forward, taking in the aroma of the food, but making no move to eat. "There are stories about blizzards like this one, from lands far to the north."

"Stories?" she asked, mixing her own porridge with a wooden spoon. "What sort of stories?"

"There are many folk who believe such storms are brought on by spirits who walk the earth, bringing wind and snow with them."

"Spirits? Have you seen them?"

He smiled, a strange gleam in his eyes. "I have seen many things in my wandering. Things most people wouldn't believe."

"Would you...tell me?"

He stared at her for a time, as though he was taking her measure. Weighing his options, or her worthiness. Her entire face was aflame under his scrutiny.

"I've been told many a tale of men lost in a blizzard, near death, when they were approached by a stranger that somehow saved their lives. Sheltering them from the cold, building a fire, somehow staving off the icy bite of the wind. A few of the stories talk about such visitors escorting the souls of folk who have frozen to death to the other side."

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