It was just as well, he told himself. It wasn’t meant to last. To pass the time, to have some fun, just as Varen had said. He shouldn’t be disappointed that was all Varen wanted. Varen had been up front about his intentions, and Korik had agreed. That was all there was to it.
Sleep eventually took him, though, and he woke to the sound of Varen standing and stretching. The elf glanced over at him as he sat up, then smiled. Korik’s heart stuttered.
“Sorry to wake you,” Varen said. “I think the storm is over. I didn’t hear any wind outside. Might as well get an early start while we can, though, right?”
“R-right,” Korik stammered, rubbing his eyes.
“Why don’t you take a look to see if you can find the best route out of here, and I’ll pack everything up?” Varen offered, and Korik nodded.
This time, when he looked through the eyes of the wildlife outside, the mountainside was teeming with life. The morning sun crested over the horizon, reflecting off the pure white snow that blanketed everything. In the trees, all manner of birds were out searching for food; and below, small animals burrowed through the snow or leapt atop it, leaving their footprints behind. But the sky was clear, and the wind was mild. Somehow, they had weathered the storm.
Korik used a few different birds to get different vantage points. Each time he found where he and Varen were tucked away against the mountainside, then picked a new direction to determine the easiest path. It would all be slow going in such thick snow, but he thought they could make some decent headway. If the weather didn’t turn again, they should be able to make slow but steady progress down the mountain. Within a few days, maybe a week if the snow remained piled high, they could make it to that natural hot spring Korik had spotted when they first arrived.
He came back to himself as Varen was shaking the dirt off his blankets and rolling them up. Varen noticed him stirring and smiled over at him again, which made Korik flush. The elf was in a cheerful mood, clearly.
“We should be alright to keep heading east,” Korik muttered, getting to his feet. “The snow will be a pain, though.”
“I’ll follow your lead,” Varen said, and for some reason, that struck Korik more than the elf’s smiles. Varen trusted him that much. He had said they needed to trust each other to survive. Korik had believed him then, of course; but something about hearing it now, the casual way the elf said it, stopped him in his tracks entirely. He felt his face warming, as Varen noticed him staring, but he still couldn’t bring himself to look away.
“What’s wrong?” Varen asked, frowning. Korik shook his head.
“Nothing,” he said.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” the elf protested. Korik found himself unable to reply. What could he possibly say that wouldn’t sound pathetic or ridiculous?
Suddenly, Varen’s expression turned into a smug grin, and he added, “Oh, I see. Well, we can still keep each otherwarmon the road, if you feel so strongly about it. I don’t mind.”
Korik’s face burned all over again—less of that pleasant, tingling warmth, and more of the embarrassed heat that he was so used to.
“Yes. That,” he muttered, busying himself with packing away his own bedroll. Despite Varen’s soft laugh and calm expression, Korik’s stomach churned with regret. It felt as though he had had just one brief chance to say something truly heartfelt to Varen, and it had slipped right through his grasp. He’d always thought his leaden tongue would cost him dearly one day, and maybe that day had come.
No, maybe not. Even if he had told Varen something as saccharine as, “thank you for trusting me”, he doubted it would have moved the elf enough for anything to change between them. It was wishful thinking.
But when had he started wishing for more between them? Sometimes it felt as if he didn’t know his own mind anymore. The thought was heavy in his chest as he finished packing up his belongings.
Korik used his magic to remove the hard-packed dirt sealing them in, then with some effort, they dug their way through the thick layer of snow. The feel of it was a cold shock to the surprising warmth they had kept in the cave. When they finally emerged outside, the icy, fresh air snapped Korik back into reality in an instant. Already, their days spent in the cave felt like a distant, hazy dream compared to how bright and sharp everything around them was. The morning sun reflected off the white snow, and the frigid air bit at his lungs and nostrils as he breathed.
“Gods, that’s cold,” Varen hissed, his words coming out with a puff of steam beside him. Then he gestured for Korik to go ahead of him. “Lead the way.”
Korik took in a deep, bracing breath. The cold filled his lungs, then he stepped through the heavy snow. The snowshoes that he’d worked on in his free time helped, but they weren’t perfect, and some steps still sank further into the soft snow than he would have liked. Still, it was better than having nothing at all.
For a while, they walked in silence, the only sound between them the crunch of snow underfoot and their breaths rising in puffs of warm steam. It was an arduous journey to be sure, so Varen didn’t have much extra breath to be talking at all hours. Korik wasn’t sure if it was a relief, or if he missed the constant background noise.
They paused whenever Varen heard animals nearby, but it was never anything larger than a rabbit. The elf snared rabbits and squirrels with his magic, rather than shooting at them with his bow; Korik noticed his quiver seemed less full now than it had when they’d first set out. He kept an eye out for anything they could forage, too; but with the snow blanketing the earth, there wasn’t much to glean off the land.
The sun was descending toward the horizon when Korik spotted a cave nestled into a nearby hillside. It was unlikely they would find a better place to camp, so even though they probably had another hour of good daylight, they stopped for the day. Cold sweat coated his body, and his muscles ached with exertion. This was a much harder journey now than it had been before the storm, he thought bitterly—they would make it, but it would be a struggle.
Varen set up his bedroll next to Korik’s, even though this cave was bigger than their little den had been, and there was really no need to be so close. When they had eaten and cleaned up—Korik’s skin still smarted from using magic to scrub himself clean—Varen pulled him down into bed with him again. It was all a tangle of hands and tongue and teeth, his mind racing with worry and exhilaration and pleasure all at once.
Was it always like this? Had he been missing out on this all this time? Or was it Varen? Would it have been like this with anyone else?
He didn’t know. He probably never would. All he could do, he told himself afterward—as he lay on his back, looking up at the flickering shadows on the ceiling cast by the lingering embers of their campfire—was enjoy this while it lasted.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Varen
Thiswaswhathehated most about traveling. Of course, traveling in the snow was never pleasant; but it all felt a little extra miserable to Varen, knowing how much of this mess could have been avoided. He was constantly cold, yet always sweating with effort; by midday, his legs were sore, and his back ached. It was just as much of a struggle, if not more, for Korik; so there wasn’t much conversation to be had. To make matters worse, he was running low on arrows and wasn’t confident in his ability to make more with the kind of wood that surrounded them.
