Winter's Kiss (Ursus Peregrinus & Candy_demon21)

The snow crunched underfoot in the market square, large flakes drifting down into a soft blanket that covered the valley and seemed to just drink in every sound, leaving it muted. Everywhere but here in the small city of Eisengrad, at least. The streets were alive here for the midwinter festival. the lamp posts and houses strung with bunting and with pine boughs. People from across the valley had converged on the capital, here on the banks of the Lynsk river.

Food and drink stalls filled the square, and several bands were competing for the attention of the merry-makers. Winter in the valley of Einhard was long, cold and bleak, but tomorrow the days would begin to grow longer once more and that was reason enough to celebrate. More, the Prince's packs of wolves had driven two dozen deer and elk from the forest just days before and the men of Eisengrad were roasting the meat. Everyone would feast, and for the first time in months no one in the city would go to bed hungry.

In the center of the square, the Mayor stood wrapped in a heavy coat trimmed in silver fur. The silver chain of office hung about his neck, and his round cheeks were red from the cold and from the hot mulled wine that was flowing so freely.
"People of Einhard! MidWinter is here! Spring is coming, and thanks to our gracious monarch another year has passed. Our borders are safe, our crops bountiful and our families are cared for." There was cheering and the Mayor paused to lift his cup, then drained it again. "But it is time for us to send our yearly tithe and accounting up the mountain to our lord. To do this, we need a representative." Undoing his heavy coat, he pulled at the neck of his tunic and showed the white, hand-shaped scar on his collarbone, plainly visible against his ruddy complexion. "Those who have served once are exempt, of course, but everyone else who has come here today has had their nameall of you who have come here today have had your names placed in the barrel. In a moment I shall pick one... unless, of course, some brave soul would care to volunteer for this signal honour?" He smiled and his assistant began to spin the barrel, a repurposed butter churn.

As he waited, a carriage entered the square. Drawn by four black horses with white manes and feathers, wearing heavy quilted blankets under their harnesses to hold back the winter's chill. The carriage itself was of polished wood, pale birch varnished to the silvery sheen of the finest bronze. Driven by a burly, bearded man with a bald pate and a pale hand-scar on his bare bicep, he seemed not to notice the chill, wearing a thick vest, his fur cloak thrown back to show off his muscular arms and the heavy silver vambraces he wore. More silver decorated the carriage, shaped into roaring dragons at the four corners and lining the curtained windows. The inside was too dark to see, though there might have been a shape there. Beside the carriage stood two great timber wolves, their fur greyish-white and their manner aloof. They growled anytime anyone came too close, and folk melted away from their intent, intelligent stares.

No one expected the Prince to appear. No one but the kingdom's representative ever expected to see the Prince. He lived alone, it was said, or attended by a handful of servants. Some claimed that the servants were the ghosts of those envoys who never returned down the mountain. All anyone knew was the the Prince was pale, and that he dressed in black and silver. Now and then someone would have a tale of seeing a figure who might be the prince abroad during winter's snows, or up in the mountain passes that never thawed even in the heights of summer.

The statue that stood behind the mayor was supposedly the Prince. A tall, noble figure of white marble brought far from the south at great expense long ago, after the monarch of this peaceful valley had turned back an army invading from Espada to the southwest. But even the statue had little true detail, with his face hidden in the depths of his cloak's hood and body wrapped in plate armour. The hands that held a sword and shield, resting before him were long-fingered and slender, and the body seemed tall and straight but that was all that could truly be told from the statue. That and the crest on the shield, of a mountain with a snowy peak and a sword point down thrust through it.

Odette's mother discouraged all talk of the Prince. Even mentioning him in passing was sure to result in some punishment and a stern talking to. Asking questions was liable to result in going to bed without dinner and a rap on the knuckles with a switch. But Moriwin was away for three days every year at Midwinter, on some errand that absorbed her time and returned her exhausted in body and spirit. Often it would be a week after her return before she would truly be herself again.

So it had been easy enough for Odette to slip away from home and make her way to the high road. Their cottage and small farm lay in a little forest grove only a few miles from Eisengrad, and her friend Livia Petrov from the next farm was happy to convince her family to bring her along on their cart to the small city that was capital to their kingdom. Geoffrey Petrov was a kind man and a hard worker, though homely as the day was long. He doted on his three daughters and his wife, and it was rare that he would refuse them anything for long. Julia was married now, to Alexander the local blacksmith's apprentice, and Livia's eldest sister Marta had been married for two winters to Yaros the miller's son down in the town of Werden, with a son of her own and another child on the way.
"Are you excited Odette?" Livia grinned a little nervously. It was the first year she had been old enough for her name to go in the draw. It was an honour but also a cause for fear... everyone knew of at least one person who had made the journey up the mountain but never returned again. Some said that the Prince kept them as servants, others that he ate their hearts to keep his youth. No one knew for sure. "I hope it isn't me. I'm afraid I would say something foolish." The blonde girl, a year younger than her friend, laughed and shook her head, blonde ringlets bouncing. "Perhaps someone will volunteer? Then they won't need to pick. Radek volunteered two years back, do you remember? To impress that girl Ziva the tinker's daughter? But she went off and married George instead so it was all for naught." Livia's bantering gossip was neverending. She sometimes seemed to know everything that was going on in the whole kingdom.

~tag~

Blinded to see
The cruelty of the beast
Here is the darkest side of me
(Forgive me my sins)
The veil of my dreams
Deceived all I have seen
Forgive me for what I have been
Forgive me my sins​

The world was covered in white, it seemed an eternity that it had been that way. Cold and easily broken, bitter, like and unhealed wound. Though the world was not destined to remain this way, soon the sun would stay out longer and linger in the sky like a golden coin, and it would warm the cold snow. Soon the world that Odette had come to know would be painted in brilliant hues of orange, reds, pink and purple, signifying that spring, that life, would continue on after the frozen grasp of winter.

Though the cold grasp of winter was still evident from the clouds of hot breath escaping Odette's parted lips. It was so early still, 'You should be beneath the warm wool blankets, lost in dreamless sleep. Yet you wake early and look out at the world.' An amused smile turned up the corners of her mouth, her long fingers playing mindlessly with the locket she had stolen from my mother's box.
Though was it really stealing?
Odette had reasoned that it wasn't, how could it be considered at thievery when her mother had hidden it away in a box beneath a few of the floor boards? Before Odette had found it, the beautiful trinket would have continued to lay in that little wooden box, collecting dust and becoming nothing more than a memory.

There were so many questions Odette wanted to ask, mostly in regards to the locket. Who had it come from? Why did she hide it away as it was a blight on their family? And the most nagging question, had it come from her father?
There had never been much mention of the man, even when the young woman was nothing more than a babe. Faster her fingers twirled the silver locket between her fingers, the thoughts in her head churning like an angry sea. When a bitter chill ran down the fitted wool dress she had taken from her mother's wardrobe, Odette shivered in its wake, snapping back to her snowy white reality.

'They will be arriving soon,' the young woman thought anxiously, her gaze flicking up the winding mud path, Livia and her family. And in that moment, Odette remembered why she loved yet hated that girl and her family. On so many occasions had the raven haired woman wished that her family was like that of Livia's; perfect and unbroken. What was it like to have a father that would do anything for her, to be his 'little girl', and in that instant, the familiar pang of heartache rippled through her body. Turning on her booted feet, Odette made her way numbly into her hut to run the brush through her glossy locks at least a few more times, just until Livia arrived.

Quiet minutes passed by, and Odette let her mind wander helplessly, a soft little lullaby slipping past her lips quietly, until she was started by the whinny of horses and the soft 'tap,tap, tap' against the door. There was only ever one person that would ever knock so softly, Livia.
Pushing herself from where she sat on her bed, gathering up a long white cloak, another steal from her mother's things.
When the cart began to pull away from her house, Odette could feel her heart beat wildly beneath her ribs. Why was she suddenly so nervous? Perhaps it was because this would be the first year that she would get to attend the festival without fear of her mother returning home early, or perhaps it was for other reasons, reasons she did not yet understand.
All of which faded the moment that Livia began to speak. Her little nervous grin made Odette snicker beneath her breath, "I am." Was all she replied, feeling that if she were to tell her friend that she too was nervous, the young woman would laugh.

"You speak as if your name is destined by the gods to be chosen. You know it is a great honor to be chosen, besides Livia, perhaps I will spare you and everyone else, perhaps I'll volunteer. The possibilities are endless." It was a tempting thought, to offer to go up to the castle and speak with the elusive prince that many had never seen. His presence had always been a mystery, even to the townsfolk. Was the man who lived high up in the mountains, locked away in an icy fortress, really truly alive there, or perhaps he was some evil deity.

Odette had often inquired when she was younger, but she had always remembered that the questioners would garner a swift snap of a switch, 'Never speak of him Odette, to mention him is to bring misfortune.' Ha! What misfortune, it was question she wanted to ask many a time, but yet, never had the gall to find her voice and ask. "Livia," Odette nibbled thoughtfully at her bottom lip, "What do you suppose the Prince is like? Many of our townsfolk have ventured to the castle, many have come back, but many have also perished. What do you think he is life? If he even lives?" These questions were more so thoughts that had found Odette's voice.

When the cart was pulled to a stop at the entrance to the town square, Odette was the first one to jump off from the cart and make her way through the crowd of people. In passing she heard the harsh words and scoffs of those there were pushed aside as an over eager young woman made her way towards the square.

This had been the most lively she had ever seen her home. When Odette had been younger, she had remembered shopping with her mother. All the odd sidelong glances and the whispers as they passed, 'Don't look at her child, she's a witch.' They would say about her Moriwin. As a youth, Odette had found it funny, but maybe it was true? Or so Odette had begun to believe. Why was it that she and her mother lived so far from the town, and a better question, why was it Odette was still without a husband? Surly she, by no means was ugly.
Long raven hair that was always neatly brushed, full of body and volume. It gentle wavy tresses hanging down loosely around the small of her back. Flawless ivory skin and stark emerald eyes flecked with gold and blue. So why was it that she still without? Another reason why Odette envied Livia and her sisters.

The crowd that was so thick seemed to spread and dissipate as she grew closer to the center of the square. That was when Odette looked up, gazing up in wonder, eyes aglow with it, as she started at the marvel parked in the square.
Large black horses, four of them, with beautiful ivory manes and feather , snorted and whinnied impatiently for their driver to usher them away from the almost suffocating crowd. On either side of the coach were two large, terrify silver Timberwolves. The stood, growling at anyone that drew close, their eyes scanning the faces, as if taking them in like human's. Whoever sat in the carriage was sure to be someone of statue, but why come to the Midwinter festival? Yes someone was chosen, if not willingly volunteering to be the go between the town and the castle, but out of all the things to come and see, why this?

And in that instant, Odette's inner voice told her to take a closer look at the carriage, see who sat within it. But what of the wolves? A logical worry, for any sane person, but the curiosity to peek inside and look at who sat within, was almost of tempting as taking an apple from a local vendor when their eyes were elsewhere.
Taking a deep, steady breath, Odette walked around the wolves, giving them a wide berth, and making her way again towards the front.
And in that instant, her attention was drawn towards the front of the crowd, where the Mayor of the town asked for volunteers.

'Should I disobey mother and offer my services? Mother would be so angry if she were to ever find out that I accepted this great honor, but perhaps it would show the people that we are common, just as they are.' Slowly, she began to raise a slender arm towards the sky, her heart racing as it gradually ascended towards the heavens.

~tag~

~~Nikolai Ilyich Kostchei~~

The cool air and the warmth of the bonfires warred with one another in the square. The press of bodies bundled in furs and thick wool added to that warmth, their breath hanging in the air like mist as the ceremony began. One citizen, chosen by lottery, would travel up that winding road to the Kalte-Herzberg to represent the valley: carrying the village tithes and records, presenting a year's worth of decisions by the mayors and courts of Einhard, bringing word of problems and pleas for aid from the people of the valley.

They would enter the carriage and be carried off up the mountain to a castle where spring never came. A castle that seemed forever wreathed in mist, as though the clouds came down to hide it. The stories of some who had visited and returned were that the walls of the fortress were black stone and rusting iron, that ravens flocked in the towers and that wolves guarded the road up the hill.

Livia shivered again as a wind whipped through the square, munching on a pretzel and moving closer to Odette.
"Don't you think the statue is handsome?" She asked, looking up at the stone effigy of the Prince. Livia had said the same a thousand times before, always with her youthful, bubbling smile. But this time, the smile faded as silence spread out across the square like oil poured on water. The Mayor cleared his throat and looked rather shocked as he saw Odette's hand raised, and the crowd parted around her, even Livia drawing back. "Are you mad Odette? What would your Mother say?!" She hissed the words, her brown eyes wide in surprise at her friend's gesture.
"I... ahem... Surely you don't mean to volunteer.." The mayor looked down at her. He knew Odette, he knew all the three or four thousand people of Eisengrad and the tiny villages that surrounded it. Two or three times a year he would visit, at least for an hour or so, every family in this part of the valley. Mayor Horst was thought by many a good man, though her mother smirked when his name was mentioned. A good man, though wealthy and fond of his comforts.

Climbing down off the Dais, Wilhelm Horst approached her. His face was tense with concern.
"Odette?" He seemed unsure of her name for a moment, but he nodded as he got a closer look at her. "You're too young girl. Much too young." Turning back to the curious crowd, he raised his hands. "She's only a child! We will hold the lottery!"

There were rumbles from the crowd, some agreeing with the Mayor, many others wishing to have the lottery over and done with. The mutterings grew in volume until those two timberwolves threw their heads back and howled. The eerie sound echoed in the chill winter air and continued until everyone fell silent.

As one, the crowd turned towards the carriage to see a cloaked figure. Wrapped in black velvet, the hood of the cloak trimmed in silver fur. Tall, a head taller than any man in the square. One hand, clad in a black leather gauntlet, extended from beneath the cloak to scratch behind the ears of one of the great grey wolves.
"The girl has volunteered. You know the law Wilhelm Horst. My law." The voice was cold, and of all the people in the square his was the only one who's breath didn't hang in the air like smoke. "Come here, child." The left hand rose and two fingers beckoned Odette. "Horst. Give her the ledgers, then get out of my sight."

People drew back from the center of the square as the Prince turned slowly, little more than a silhouette and the hint of a face shadowed beneath his deep hood. Flinging his cloak back, he climbed up into the carriage once more, leaving the door open. Inside it was as dark as night.

"I'm so sorry Odette." The Mayor said as his assistant bustled up with three heavy, leather-bound books and a case. "I tried. I did try." He gave her a hug, squeezing her tightly. He smelt of cider and sweat and tobacco. "Best not keep him waiting longer. I hope..." His voice dried up and he looked down at the ground. Stamped his feet as he gathered his courage. "My... My Lord! *I* volunteer in this child's place!"

The two wolves responded to a whistle from within the carriage, moving towards Odette and Wilhelm. Their hackles rose and white teeth shone in their red mouths as their lips skinned back and growls rumbled like a distant rockfall.
"Brave, Horst. Brave but foolish." The voice reached their ears like a whisper carried on the wind. "You have already been a volunteer, Wilhelm. Twenty seven years ago you made your way up the mountain a boy and walked back down as a man. You know the law. This duty comes once in a life, and yours has come and gone. Give the books to the girl, set the case on the ground and then run for your life." Odette had never heard words so cold and heartless. "The next time you see me, Wilhelm, will be the end of you."

Helplessly, tears in his small round eyes, the Mayor handed her the books and turned. The wolf lunged and flung him to the ground, crouching atop him and snapping at his throat.

No blood flew, and in spite of the Mayor's shout he was unhurt. Pinned beneath a wolf that must weight as much as a pony, but alive.

The other wolf picked up the heavy leather case with its jaws and glanced at Odette. Its tail wagged twice, and then it turned towards the carriage, carrying its burden. The people in the square were in shock, never before in living memory had there been such a furor.
"Come, girl. It is time to meet your Lord and Master." That soft, low voice brushed her cheek again, cold as the winter breeze and as empty of life as the forest in January.

~tag~

The warmth was welcomed, but the feeling of those around her breathing down her neck however was not. She could smell the stale smell of sweat lingering on their clothes, clearly not having been washed in god only knew. 'Be grateful Odette, not every person is warm like you are, nor are they as well bathed.' Perhaps she could start offering hot water to those who could not afford to make it. The thought turned up the corners of her lips.
When Livia spoke, the raven haired girl looked up at the statue and shrugged, "Handsome yes, but those beautiful eyes and features could be nothing but a front. He could be cold hearted and bitter, don't be fooled by a pretty face. Trust me Livia, my mother has told me a thousand times, a she will tell me a thousand times again."

Though the moment that her hand was raised high into the air, all conversation drew to a deathly still, and in that moment, all eyes were locked on her shivering form. Why was it that she was shivering?
The cold was not causing it, the wool cloak she had wrapped around her body was keeping the chill out, as were the bodies, but gradually too, they began to back away from her, as if her raised hand had cursed her and the very earth she stood upon.
Emerald orbs flicked from solemn face to the next, what had she done, she almost instantly regretted raising her hand, but the feeling that was burning in her chest told her that is what she must do!
When Livia spoke, Odette turned her gaze towards the blond and smirked impishly, "I told you you had no reason to fear." It wasn't intentional, but she supposed that since her hand was already raised towards the heavens and everyone knew it was she who would go, there would be no fighting it. "My mother has kept me locked away in that damned house for too long, I'm old enough, and by the gods, if I want to do this than let me be!"

Though her mother was bound to be up in arms about this, Odette knew that the moment her mother arrived home, and she was not there, she would go looking. She was sure to find her answers when she went to town, all the people would say how sorry she was for her loss. Moriwin would get that perplexed look of her's and then, realization would smack her square in the face like a bitter winder from the North.

When the mayor's voice boomed, directed at her, Odette smiled and nodded her head, "You did just ask if anyone wished to volunteer did you not? If I am not mistaken Mayor, I have raised my hand and offered to go. This is no jest, I know what this task requires, I am no child, nor am I foolish." So why did it feel as if she had gotten herself into something she knew she would never be able to escape from? She reasoned that it was because of what her mother would think, but in all truth, what would her mother think? Would she be disappointed in her daughter for doing something so foolish as raising her hand, or would she be proud?
Certainly it was not to be the latter, that thought alone made Odette shake her head sadly, knowing JUST how her mother would react.

Watching the Mayor leave his perch and make his way towards her. Even from afar, Odette could see the mask of concern he wore. What did she have to fear. Many of the townsfolk had done this same thing and many had returned, so why was it that everyone looked as if she was walking towards her own casket? When the Mayor spoke, a flush of warmth filled her cheeks, the anger she felt tasted sharp in her mouth. "I am not! I am of the same age as the boy who went years ago, who volunteered. Why should I not be given the same honor as he? Perhaps it is because I am a woman? Or perhaps it is because of my mother's wrath? Surly it is not that. Or is there some untold secret that those of this village know that I do not?" When the had turned away and announced the lottery was still to be held, a deep growl of frustration slipped past gritted teeth.
By the gods, if it was not her mother, it was everyone else!

The silence was ended by the crowd agreeing with the Mayor 'only a child', if she were only a child, then why had others of the same age gone? The sound of waves filled her ears as her anger seemed to bubbled to the surface, evident from the red in her cheeks and forehead. Just as Odette turned to make her way towards home, a blood chill sound echoed off the stone walls and silenced those who spoke. It was the sound of the wolves. They had thrown their heads back and bayed at the moon, loud, almost mournful noises.
All eyes turned towards the carriage, including her own.

From inside the carriage, a figure emerged, draped in a black cloak as thick as fog. The figure was tall, taller than anyone of the crowd, but his face was hidden beneath the thick folds of the velvet he had draped himself in. Was that the prince? The locket that Odette had taken felt hot, almost painful against her skin, perhaps...he? The man stepped towards the wolves, a hand reached out an lovingly scratched behind the beast's ear, as if it were just a common mutt.
When the figure spoke, his voice boomed like thunder, a voice that told all who thought it wise to object, to hold their tongues in fear of losing them.
So that was the prince, a cloaked figure, turning her face away from him and towards the statue, Odette could see no resemblance of the two, surly the man that hid himself beneath the velvet was not the prince that everyone so loved and feared?
When he called to her, a strange sort of feeling, a pulling in her gut, told her to step forward, that there was truly nothing to hear. Though at the same time, being called child again, made the anger bubble up, making the copper taste that had filled her mouth once, return with a vengeance.
It took everything she had in her, all the strength she had been saving up for her mother, to not tell the prince that she was by no means a child, but she stayed silent, and took several steps forwards.

The crowd parted like the sea as she moved through them, each one of them had the same expression. It was that same expression that people got when they knew something horrible had just happened, and sadly, you were the last one to be told. How she wanted to shout at them all and tell them to stop worrying, she was no child!

Reaching the Mayor's side again, Odette looked up into his face, his apology making her scowl. All the curses that she had been thinking, at all the people who gave her the same grim expression, had vanished, just as the linger clouds of breath did.
The hurried movements of the Mayors assistant garnered no response, but the embrace made Odette's brows furrow. He was warm, and soft, just as she had figured he'd be, but it felt as if this was a 'Farewell, you shall not return,' sort of hug.
The moment he pulled away, saying it was best to hurry, something in his eyes changed. Was that fear that flicked beneath those small little eyes of his? Fear of the prince?

The mayor's voice sounded, all those who had kept their eyes locked on the prince, had turned their gaze towards the Mayor. As he spoke, Odette felt her mouth drop open in disbelief. By the gods, why was everyone so hell bent on getting anyone else to , besides her, to take her place?! The whistle from within the carriage made Odette turn her gaze towards the Mayor and then towards the moving figures.
The wolves that had seemed so docile, moved towards the two of them, hackles raised, teeth bared and snarling. Instantly she thought she had done something wrong. Perhaps he had heard her thoughts about her cursing those and him, that she was no child.

The whisper that was carried on the bitter wind made a shiver run down the girl's spin. There was no hint of warmth within the voice, only a cold absolute, those who disobeyed would be punished. Odette felt a pulling at her heart, the Mayor, foolish as he was, was simply trying to be a good person and shield Odette from a fate she did know. Opening her mouth to speak, she realized that nothing but clouds of warm air lingered in the air, her voice lost to the cold. When the books her handed her to, the young woman clutched them to her chest and watched the Mayor turn, defeated.
The prince didn't need to be cruel, nor did he need to tell the kind heart man that if they were to meet again, it would his last.

In the bat of eye, the wolf lunged at the Mayor and they toppled over, others in the crowd yelped, but no one ran in fear of screamed, they were frozen to where they stood, perhaps too frightened to even consider running. "Stop this!" Odette had found her voice, but it was little more than a whisper, and before she could find it again, the singular wolf picked the case up, it's intelligent eyes flicking up towards her.
It watched her for a long moment, gave a quick wag of it's long tail and trotted towards the carriage.

Cold fear gripped her heart as her eyes flicked back towards the carriage. She was doomed to die, she thought in fear, this was why the others had been so determined to choose anyone but her, they knew she did not have the gall to be chosen.
With a shaky breath, Odette started towards the black hole that loomed in front of her. It beckoned her forward, demanding she advance. When the voice spoke from the darkness, another chill ran the length of her spine, prickling her skin almost painfully.

The fire that was her own anger fought harshly against the cold brush of the voice, how it wanted to unchain from her and tell the ghostly figure that she would not be owned, but the fear that was balled up tightly her gut warned to simply hold her tongue.
And she did.

Standing before the carriage, her eyes still attempting to find something other than darkness, flicked towards the corner of her vision. Slowly she turned her gaze away, those beautiful emerald eyes desperately searching the crowd for Livia. Her eyes pleaded to any stranger willing to look long enough, to tell her mother that she would be alright, and that nothing would happen.
But it was a lie that Odette could feel herself telling, she would be fine yes, but she felt as if she'd never return home. even if she begged the gods to take her away.
Flicking her eyes back towards the carriage, Odette pulled herself into the black abyss, the book now firmly pressed into her breasts. It was hard to breath yes, but it kept her from running in fear of the stranger that she knew sat opposite of her.
~tag~

~~Nikolai Ily'ich Kostchei~~

As she entered the carriage, Odette saw Livia looking at her, wave to her once from the press of the crowd. Her father Geoffrey was holding her back, and Odette thought she saw tears in her friend's eyes. Then the door to the carriage closed and she was in the near-darkness of the carriage. The Prince was a cool presence sitting across from her, motionless, seeming not even to breathe but merely sitting in a pool of deeper shadow.

"You're brave, to seek to order me." The Prince whispered the words, but his hand reached out and slid open the shade. A low whistle called the wolf that pinned the mayor to the ground as the carriage began to move. "Consider this a gift, to honour your bravery in volunteering." The effort of explaining himself seemed to exhaust the Prince and he subsided back into immobile silence as the carriage was drawn through the streets of the town. Through the window Odette could see the faces of the townspeople watching nervously. All of them anxious to have this done with, to try and recapture the revelry.

Once outside the town, the carriage increased in speed, bouncing over the bridge and turning onto the high road that would lead them closer to the mountain. The crack of a whip and whickering of those horses increased the pace again, and the carriage began to rock and jostle them. Much less than the Petrov's wagon, but impossible to ignore all the same. The soft leather upholstery on the seats muffled the bumps somewhat but also made them a little slippery.

The Prince rode in silence as the carriage turned off onto the forest road, the winding one that led slowly up the mountain. Outside the only sounds were the panting of the wolves as they kept pace and the rumble of the wheels on the snowy road.

As the carriage climbed higher up the mountain, the trees growing thick and close beside the road, thick evergreens and firs that bore heavy burdens of snow. Now and then through a gap in the trees Odette could see the castle far up the slope, wreathed in mist and black against the snow of the mountainside. The prince moved, his face still concealed beneath his fur-trimmed hood, and his voice murmured softly.
"Tell me your name, girl. Your name, and why you offered yourself to this duty? I know my people do not relish their annual duty, they obey only out of fear of me. So why raise your hand?"

Reaching up, the man flipped back his hood and she finally got her first good look at his face. His hair was silvery-white, drawn back behind his shoulders with a silver ring set with black onyx. Skin as white as chalk only made his black eyes seem darker, empty as the depths of a well. His lips were dark as well, blue as the ice of a glacier. He looked like a statue of marble, except for the scar that stretched across his face from temple to temple, and a second that ran along his jawline to the corner of his mouth. When he smiled, those dark blue lips drew back to reveal fine white teeth.

~tag~

Watching Livia wave as she did made the rest of the climb into the carriage that much harder, and when Odette looked closer, seeing the tears in her friends eyes, it was almost heart wrenching.
The moment she sank down against the soft leather, she wanted to leap from the window, to run back to the safety of her mother's little house, and curl up as she did when she was a child. But those days were gone now, sitting in the carriage with the prince, that was an absolute.

With a soft sigh, she watched the sunlight flicker out like a candle, the two now lost in the darkness. Funny, Odette thought to herself, feeling the prickles of fear raise the small hairs on the back of her neck, funny how even as a child she had never been afraid of the dark, but yet here she sat with the prince, and only now did she fear it so. Perhaps the stories all had been true, maybe the prince did eat the hearts of those who came to his castle.
When the prince spoke, Odette jumped and clutched the books again to her chest, "I'll take the first bit as a compliment I suppose." Odette returned, her heart racing ever so slightly in her chest when the curtain was pulled back. When she could see just outside, she was more than a little relieved to see the beast who pinned the Mayor return to the carriages side. "If I may be so bold highness, was threatening the Mayor, when he simply was trying to be kind, really required?" Inwardly, Odette was kicking herself, she recalled Livia saying that she was afraid of saying something foolish, amazing how Odette now question her Prince.

With a shake of her head, she turned her eyes away from the curtain, keeping her eyes away from the prince for as long as she could. When the carriage began to move, Odette felt the familiar pang of sadness course through her blood like poison. It hadn't even been a day and already she was missing her mother. She feared that she would never see her again, she should have never raised her hand, it had been foolish.
The moment that they had reached the outskirts of the town, the ride to the palace became less enjoyable. The cart ride over had been bad yes, now granted the seats were more comfortable, but it seems that Odette was yelping and whimpering more with each harsh jostle. By the time they had reached the outer forest, she had begun to anxiously play with the silver locket she had taken from the box.

The movement from across from her had been the first thing that caught her eyes, she had nearly forgotten that the Prince was even there. He was as silent as the grave. When he demanded her name, using the insufferable term, Odette huffed, straightening herself on the leather bench.
"My name is Odette, Odette Bellarose highness. Again if I may be so bold, I would request you call me by it instead of child or girl. I realize what sex I am and do not need a constant reminder. I am also no child, old enough to be married and have children." There she went again, spouting off to the prince, even if her tone was gentle yet dripped with venom.
She would not survive the night at the rate that she was going, but she continued none the less, "I raised my hand because- because I-"she didn't have an intelligent answer, with a huff she tried again, "-because I didn't want to have Livia suffer this fate. And because of the fact that this was my first year to the festival. Call it foolish, or childish, call it what you will, I raised my hand."

The real reason she had raised her hand was due to her mother's lack of answers. Perhaps the Prince was her father, he surly had to be old enough. When he pulled back his hood, Odette gaped in awe. He was, in a cold sort of way, beautiful. His skin was as white as the freshly fallen snow, his lips a deep blue as if he had kissed the very winter itself, and those eyes. They were as black as her hair.
The scars were what drew her eyes next, oh how it burned her to not ask what had happened. They were gruesome, but yet she wanted to know. Had he received them during a fight, or perhaps he had done them to himself.

When he smiled, Odette felt like a lamb standing in front of a wolf. It was a predator smile, a smile in which pain was promised, even if it wasn't implied or amplified by his dark eyes.
~tag~

~~Prince Nikolai Kostchei~~

Kolya watched the girl as the carriage carried them up the hill. He didn't respond to her words right away, might not even have heard her for all the reaction he showed to her huffy tone. But her voice struck a chord with him. Looking out the window he considered her words and finally a slow smile curled the corner of those blue-black lips upwards, a faintly mocking expression.
"You may well be bold, Odette Bellarose," the name rolled off his tongue, and Kolya reflected on the taste of each syllable. This girl, what was it about her. So familiar, and yet just beyond his reach. "Though whether it is wise to be so bold... that is for you to consider. You're brave, for a child. Yes, a child. I can call you that, I have the right. After seeing three hundred winters and more, I have that right. There is none in my lands who is not a child to me now."

Those dark eyes fixed on her again, examining her face in the pale light of a midwinter sun. Those cheekbones, so fine, her skin so pale and yet flush with life. The line of her chin and the graceful curve of her throat. Most of all her eyes, luminous and green, bright with life. A pale green so fine that looking into those orbs left him thinking of chips of jade in a glacial stream. He was not so cold that beauty did not stir something within him. It might be a cold, faint remembrance, but still it woke.
"You raised your hand, Odette. And so placed yourself in MY hand. To be my guest, for three days, three nights. The voice of my people. Brave, for such a pretty young lass. One unmarried and without children, and who stings from the lack of them, hmm?" The Prince let that barb go home and watched her reaction. Reckless, headstrong child, but beautiful. Young and beautiful, but with no young man to guard her? To step forward and take her place like young fools so often did? That had surprised him, though Wilhelm Horst's offer to take her place had surprised him even more, knowing the Mayor as he did from so long ago.

As the carriage rumbled closer to the castle, the Prince smiled again.
"I hope you will find my hospitality to your liking. I have little need for comforts, but what my home has to offer is yours for the asking." His gauntleted hand gestured at the black walls, Odette could see that they were hung with icicles like spears, sheets of ice clinging to the granite walls and iron gates. The mist that hung about the castle wreathed it in ice that reflected what sunlight pierced the clouds, made the cold stone glitter like diamonds for a brief moment before the mist blocked it once again. The spires of the towers rose up in points of black slate, and as they came closer Odette saw great black ravens hanging on the walls and circling overhead.

Then they were rumbling through the gate and rolling to a stop in an icy courtyard. The Prince opened the door, stepped out and collected the heavy case of coin as though it weighed nothing at all, passing it to one of his wolves to carry away.
"Come, Odette. Allow me to give you a brief tour. My father's keep, and his father's, all the way back to the first of my family to come to this land out of the east."

As Odette stepped down, the carriage rumbled around in a circle and left the castle, the driver giving her one last look before passing through the castle gates. They remained open, as though inviting any who dared to enter. Apparently the Prince did not fear trespassers.

The courtyard seemed deserted, stark snow on the ground and black stone walls rising around her. Some outbuildings that looked abandoned were scattered about, though the stables soon proved not to be empty after all. One by one a dozen or so timberwolves, the largest of them almost great enough for Odette to ride upon them, crawled out into the sunlight and greeted their master with wagging tails and yipping calls. Several moved close to her, sniffing her, nuzzling at her legs until the Prince's whistle called them away from her. No wonder he did not bother to close his gates, with such guard dogs at his beck and call.

~tag~

Just the sound of her name over his tongue made her shiver in bitter cold, as if from each syllable ice formed and froze her to her very core. Maybe she preferred to be called child or girl, it was better than having her name violated, if that was even possible. The smile that he had given her was no better. It was that same wolfish smile, the smile that implied 'Behave yourself or there will be punishment'. That implied comment was enough to make her hold back any insults that were forming in her head.

Giving him a sidelong glance, she didn't like him. The way he held himself, the way he spoke, the way he looked at her as if she were something to eat, rather than a 'representative' for the city. The rumors might have been true, the rumors of him eating the hearts of those that never returned, to keep himself youthful. Mindlessly, her right hand pulled away from the locket and clutched her own heart in fear she may lose it to him. When he spoke again, she turned those beautiful green orbs towards him. "Three hundred winters? So the rumors about you being immortal are. From you appearance, I wouldn't have guessed your age." Though his arrogance made her bite down on the inside of her cheek, the coppery taste of blood caressed her tongue, "Highness if I may be again be bold, and this is with all due respect, ones age or years on this earth does not determine ones youth, it is their level of maturity, or acting like a child. If this offends you I am sorry, just passing on knowledge from my mother." No long was she clutching her chest any more, but rubbing her fingers against the smooth face of the locket.

When she fell silent, when his eyes scanned over her face, she felt as if he was searching into her very soul. She could feel those black orbs just watching her, those predatory eyes. How she wanted to snap at him, to demand why he was stare at her so intently, if she was to do the same thing to him, he surly would demand why she was watching him, staring as she did. From his comments thus far, he would say something cold, something around the lines of staring was rude or something of the like. Already he was infuriating!

His comment made her blood boil, she was not sure how much longer she would be able to take of his cold, bitterness, "I have no children because I choose not to, nor have I implied that I wanted a husband, pretty or otherwise. Have you a wife highness, or perhaps an heir to your throne, surly one such as yourself, having lived in your palace for three hundred years. Or perhaps-" and that was when she fell silent. She knew if she continued she would unleash all her fury on him. The continuation of the statement would have been 'surly living in such a big place, a wealthy such as yourself should have plenty of children running about screaming and acting like beasts.' But she had fallen silent, she needed to. With an agitated huff, Odette turned her face back towards the prince and bowed her head, "Forgive me, I was out of line," she already hated being in the carriage. Three days, she thought, three days and she could return home.

When the carriage drew closer to his palace Odette turned her face away from the prince, needing to look at anything but him. Again he spoke, his voice was like nails on glass, "Thank you highness." Was all she said before she fell silent again, her voice short and uncaring. Her gaze looked up towards the palace. Tall black walls, glaciers raising towards the sky like sparkling diamonds, and than disappearing behind a thick fog. The sun didn't seem to stay out for very long, it seems as if it was unwelcome to shine over the the Prince's palace.

Through the gates they clambered, wasn't he worried of others coming into his 'lair' as it were. The castle looked more like a fortress, even if he did keep the gates open, from what Odette had seen of the magnificent castle, the thing screamed 'Go away!' When they pulled to a rolling halt, Odette watched the prince raise like a shadow to his feet, open the door and collect the heavy chest. It lifted it with ease, as if it was filled with feathers, what was he? Being beckoned as she was, Odette sighed heavily and followed his order, stepping from the carriage.
Looking briefly over her should, she saw the driver give her a look, a look that he gave her said something, what that something was, she wasn't able to tell before he spun the carriage around and was gone.
The last human contact she would have for three nights, "Highness, might I inquire as to why you-" Odette fell silent, her question being answered when she saw the stables. From afar they looked empty, perhaps at some point they were filled with horses, but now, they looked empty. Wolves, large ones at that, rushed out of those stables.
They looked as if they were domestic pets, they yipped and whined at their master, even came to take a smell of her. Her heart was racing, surly they were going to eat her.

Odette had not moved an inch by, she was more than a little grateful when a shrill whistle pierced the air, "I suppose that answer my question about the gate." She murmured, unfolding the cloak she had draped over her arm. She slung it over her shoulders, nibbling at her lip the moment the warm fabric covered her skin.
~tag~

~~Prince Nikolai Ily'ich Kostchei~~

As his wolves backed away from the girl, the Prince simply watched. His conversation was disjointed, long pauses between speaking, as though the simple pace of conversation was something he couldn't recall.
"Immortal? I truly don't know. I don't age, I don't die, sometimes I forget to breathe. Is this half-life immortality then?" He shrugged. If it was immortality, what was the point? Life without all but a snippet of what made life worth while left one strangely empty. Kolya was about to say something more, until he saw her toying with a piece of jewelry hanging about her neck. His eyes widened briefly, then narrowed once again. Memory was a tricky thing, after so long. It played tricks. Dredging something up from those depths was always difficult, but that locket was familiar.

Then he remembered why, and his lips drew back in a death's head smile.
"No. No wife, no heir. I am alone in this place. I have a few servants... and my pets. They are all the company I require." He moved towards her, and there was a light in his eyes now. Sparks of blue glowed in those black depths. "What of you? You mentioned your mother. Tell me her name, Odette. Or... let me tell you?"

Crossing the space between them, he grasped the locket in his hands and examined it closely in his leather-clad fingers. This close, she could feel the cold of his skin. Even through the gauntlets his fingers were icy.
"Your mother's name is Moriwin Elspeth, and if I had known she was in my kingdom, I would have sought her out long since." He released the locket and a soft chuckle escaped his lips. "Now, I rather thing she will seek me out instead."

Without giving her any more clue to his knowledge of her mother or the locket about her throat, he turned away and gestured for Odette to follow him.
"Come, let me show you my home. Leave those ledgers there," he gestured at a barrel, on the ground beside it rested the case with the valley's annual taxes.

Pushing open a set of double door, bound in iron and of thick oak, Kolya led her into a garden. A frozen garden of snow-covered evergreens and ice sculptures. The sculptures, Odette could see, were of men and women. Some beautiful, others looking terrified. All of them exquisitely lifelike. There were many more men than women in the garden.

A winding path led through, and the Prince moved ahead of her along it towards the inner keep. Behind Odette, a pair of the wolves waited at the entrance to the courtyard, barring any retreat. Moments later, a raven landed on a spruce branch near her, looking at her with one yellow eye. The Prince turned when it caw'ed and looked at her with a cold look.
"Some of my previous guests. Ones who were less than careful about offending me. Now, Odette... come here."

Behind those dark eyes his mind was racing. Moriwin's daughter? Could it be? But that locket... HIS locket. Given so very long ago. For a moment he tasted the hot blood in his mouth as Gavril's sword cut his jaw. Remembered the fiery pain of the wound and the greater satisfaction as his own blade sank home to the hilt in the knight's chest. Gavril's shock as the sword pierced his lung and twisted, then cut deeper, slicing into his heart. Looking down at his hand, Kolya clenched and unclenched his left hand, remembered the way his rival had slumped to the ground, how his sword had stuck and he'd had to kick his body from the blade. He'd heard his cry, that shocked gasp fading into a whimper as his life slipped away.

His prowess had availed him not at all, rather it had cost him everything. Yet now his beloved's daughter had come right into his hands of her own volition. What spiteful God set THAT chain of events into motion, Kolya wondered.

~tag~

The way he described his life, if it could even be called that, sounded much like immortality. Did not age, did not die and sometime forgot to breath, to her, that sounded as if he was immortal. "You speak as if it is a curse, a blight on your life. Yes you call this a half life, but yet you are free of death's tough? Never fearing illness, nor death. I do not envy you for what you are, or how you got this way Highness, but I envy you for the fact you can not be touched by death." To be immune from death's cold touch, it was a lovely thought. She began to mindless stroke her finger over the smooth surface of the locket. With her constant playing with it, she may rub the thing smooth.

"Some company you-"but then there was a sudden movement that made her draw back in fear. He stepped closer to her, and she froze, as if the earth itself rooted her to the ground. Something dangerous flickered in his eyes, something she didn't quite understand. He demanded her mother's name, why suddenly did it matter to him so much? She had already told him that she had no children and no one man to call him her
own, yet all of a sudden, he was interested in her mother, but then he said something that chilled her to her bones. He knew of her mother, but this did not surprise her, but...the way he said what he had, it frightened her.

In what felt like a bitter gust of wind, the prince was upon her, the locket clasped in his hand. Even with his hand wrapped in leather, she could feel the cold brush of his skin. What had made him so cold? What terrible thing? "How do you know my mother's name? Sought her out? I-I don't understand, w-" there was something she was missing. something that was just out of reach. This had been in the box that was hidden beneath the floor boards, there were other things, other things that she had not looked at. And then, in that moment, she took in a sharp breath, "Fa-father?"

But he did not betray any further secrets, he turned from her , waving his fingers, expecting her to follow, like a dog. With a grow she chased after him, "What do you know of my mother? You simply can not just speak knowledge of my mother and then turn your back from me as if the conversation never happened. He began talking of showing her his home, but she could honestly care less, she wanted to know about her mother, about who she was and where she had come from. She, by no means, was surprised that her pleas fell on deaf ears.

Stepping into a frozen garden, Odette herself froze mid step. It was beautiful, but yet, dark. There were human figurines scattered about, mostly men, perfectly shaped, carved, almost too perfect. Stepping forward towards one, Odette eyed it quizzically, inspecting it. There were no marks that indicated that they were made, and then something made her think something, "W-Were these the people that have never returned? Were these p-people at one point Highnes?" But he was walking still, even as she asked her question. From above her, a raven cawed at her, perhaps warning her to run, but the wolves at the gate barred any chance of running. So lost in her own thoughts, that when his voice bounced over the walls and came booming back to her, she jumped. Looking back towards the frozen people, she shuttered.

They had been people at first, they had all been people, and he had killed them, frozen them in ice and decorated his garden with him. With a frightened little yelp, she rushed to his side, gaze down cast. Beneath her own emerald orbs, her mind raced at the speed of light. He was old enough to be her father, it would also explained why her mother never wanted her to speak about the prince or her father, he might have done something to hurt her in the end, something that had caused him to become what he was.
She had so many questions, but thus far, the prince almost seemed reluctant to answer.

~tag~

~~Prince Nikolai Ily'ich Kostchei~~

The cold air was bitter, and when the wind blew it cut right to the bone through the thickest clothing. Elsewhere in the valley the chill had been dry but here the mist that wreathed the castle made things seem almost damp. The breeze that ruffled the evergreens and the large, fluffy flakes of snow that began to swirl down from the sky only reinforced the creeping sensation that this was not a human place. No, this was a domain of wild things, or deat ones.

Kolya did not reply to her questions, simply looked at her and jerked his head. If the child wished answers, she could follow him into his keep. Even when she showed her realization that the statues were former guests, those who were not hapless trespassers or thieves anyways, the Prince kept his silence. He was not given to running off at the mouth.

When she rushed to his side, though, one arm wrapped around her shoulders. A gesture of comfort, snugging her against his side beneath his heavy cloak. Matching his stride to her shorter steps, he led her up the dozen broad steps and pushed open the door to his keep. The halls were lit by flickering lamps, and while the furnishings were beautifully carved and obviously of value, they seemed cold and empty all the same. The lamps threw a cool light, blue-white and harsh, there was no warmth to it and it affected the colours of the tapestries and paintings they passed, making them seem bleak and dark.

Until they reached the great hall. There a huge hearth was set with a roaring fire. logs almost as large as Odette were stacked, burning merrily, throwing orange and yellow light dancing. The contrast to the man who was her host was marked, this was something he did for his guests, a touch of humanity. The heat from the fire drove back the cold and the damp, it was like standing in a forge, the thick granite reflecting all that warmth outwards to create a pool of summer in the midst of all this chill and ice.

By the fireplace was a well padded chair, a low table near it held bottles and glasses: wine and mead set out for her by some unseen hand. Another chair sat a little further from the roaring flames, a carved wooden curule chair, the dark wood glistening in the light of the flames.
"Sit, Odette." The words were not a request, and the Prince swept off his cloak and tossed it over the back of his chair before he sat himself. Beneath the cloak he wore black leather and thick dark wool. His clothes were not even so plush as the Mayor's. Well made, but lacking in finery. All except the sword-belt at his waist. That was broad leather and set with silver and gold, the buckle worked into a dragon's head, sapphires glittering in its eyes. From the belt hung a long sword and, on the other side, a black iron shestopyor, a six-feathered mace heavily chased with silver. The engraving was in the form of vines, silver thorns curling outwards on each of the six iron flanges.

"I know your mother, Odette, but I am not your father." A dry, cold laugh escaped his lips, chopped off almost before it began. "I know much of your mother, and no one in this world knows more of your father than I do. Many things even you do not know, I would guess... but I can speak of what I wish and keep what secrets I wish. Have a care with me, little girl." Those blue sparks in the depths of his eyes glittered and then faded once more into blackness. "I do not brook disrespect. This valley is mine, the people are mine, this custom you volunteered for reminds them of this fact. Some of those who come to visit are unworthy of my protection. I am their master, it is to me to judge them. Those I find wanting do not return. Their frozen bodies I leave in my garden, to remind myself of my duty. To warn those who come here." The Prince fell silent again, watching her. With his elbows on the arms of his chair, he steepled his fingers and fell into a stillness so complete that he might have been one of his statues.

"Later tonight I will read the ledgers, learn what my people wish of me. Decide what my people need. On the morrow I will answer your questions. If," he raised one finger to look at her, "you keep a civil tongue in your head and an obedient spirit. For now, you will speak. I have little chance for conversation or news. The ledgers tell me dry facts... I rely on my guests to tell me other things. Speak to me, of my valley. Of my people. Tell me about your life, Odette. The lives of your friends and neighbours. Tell me what YOU believe my people need." Kolya seemed vaguely exhausted by the effort of conversation and the silence fell around him again as he finished.

~tag~

Regardless of the warm that the cloak was providing, it did little good when the wind picked up and bit straight through. This place was abandoned by god, there was no way that he hadn't. This place, was cold and dark, dead people were frozen in perfect status, they would be forever frozen, never able to return home again. Odette feared the same fate would happen with her as well.

When she had caught up with him, Odette shivered, no out of the bitter cold, but out of the fear of becoming one of those morbid but beautiful statues. She had been hardly paying attention, but when the weight of the prince's arm draped over her shoulder, she had jumped, a small gasp having escaped her lips as well. As the fear began to dwindle down into a small flicker flame, she welcomed the warmth of the prince's cloak, but wanted to run from his grasp and the feeling of cold that seemed to radiate from his touch.

Further they wound into his keep, further into hell as it were. Looking up from hooded lashes, she gazed the strange lighting. It was blue, like the sparks she had seen flickering in his eyes when he had noticed the locket about her neck. Everything was dark, bleak, and so cold. Even within the stone walls of the castle, the chill from outside had sunk into her bones, making them ache, as if she had been walking in this weather for hours. When they had reached the great hall, her eyes glittered in excitement when she saw the flickering light of the fire. It was warm, and bright and brilliant, it felt safe, looked safe, she almost wanted to jump into that fire.

The command to sit was acknowledged with a quick nod of her head, when the prince pulled away, Odette found her seat, and settled in, almost a little to excited to feel the warmth against her cheeks and exposed skin. Resting her head against the back of the chair, letting her neck feel the warmth. She had lost herself in the warmth and had jumped again when his voice came from the darkness. He had known her mother, but his next comment made her feel ten times smaller than she was, he had not been her father. This set off a series of questions that desperately wished to ask the prince. Who was her father? Why had her mother hidden the locket and other things away beneath the floor board. Reaching up again, she touched the locket beneath her finger tips, she had never thought of opening it, never even tried, but something told her not to open it. Listening to him as he talked, Odette wanted to shoot of the questions, but she stayed silent, fearing she may.

As he offered, she looked towards one of the bottles, nibbling at her lip thoughtfully. She had never had spirits before, her mother had never let her, "Thank you my lord." She murmured, continuing to mindlessly rub the locket. The way he began to speak about his people made her taste copper in her mouth, they weren't things to be owned, nor should they be considered as such.

He continued on to tell her what his plan was, and when he said he would answer her questions the next morning, she was almost eager to sleep, but his next question made her sigh heavily. "As you wish." He was letting her speak her mind, find she would. "I know little of your valley highness, I do not care to know, my mother, Moriwin keeps me locked in the house. I often don't go with her towards the town, she's simply kept me home." If that was what he wanted to know, she couldn't offer him much else. "Neighbors, all I know if the Petrov. Livia, their youngest daughter, we have been friends for years. She had, I believe two older sisters, who are bother married, one sister has a child already and a son on the way. She just turned old enough to have her name chosen from the barrel."

He asked about her life, she began to laugh softly, "You wish to know about my life highness? I firstly think that you shouldn't treat your people like things to be owned, I think their ruler should be kind, but treat them with respect. Being treated like...like cattle, I don't think it's right. No offense to your highness but, the people are afraid of you. Would you wish to be feared, rather than loved. My mother speaks as if you are a monster, and talk of you is strictly forbidden. I get punished often for bringing you up in passing. I've always been curious as to who you were, and why there was this drawing every year. I have been even more curious as to why she has never spoken of my father, or-or of the this locket or anything in that little box she hides beneath the floor. I suppose you can blame my naivety or my wishful thinking, but I'd someday like to know who my father was, and why there is no mention of you, or my father, ever!"

~tag~

~~Prince Nikolai Ily'ich Kostchei~~

Even so close to the hearth, Nikolai didn't feel the warmth. Watching his guest he was glad he had ordered a fire laid, it was so easy to forget the simple things like food and warmth that had once been so comforting. There was no comfort for him any longer, and he felt a harsh jealousy just watching Odette luxuriate in the pool of heat the fire created.

"You live in isolation then," he couldn't help but smile at that. It was a cold smile, but not a cruel one. "I am not surprised, Odette, that your mother keeps you distant. She wishes to protect you from harm, I think. What will she do, when she discovers you missing? When your friend tells her what has befallen you. What will she do?" His face looked almost pained, but the light in his eyes flickered like sapphire stars.

"The people should be afraid of me, Odette. I cultivate that fear. Fear means obedience." He leaned forward, waving around them. "I have no army, I have no servants, but I do not need them. Fear of me is enough to ensure that I am obeyed." Kolya looked into the fire, his face inscrutable. "The taxes I demand are low, one part in one hundred from my people is all I require. MY People, Odette. Every one of them. Even you. Even your mother. I guard your homes and your borders, I tax lightly and ask only for the respect and obeisance that is my royal due by right of birth. You say I treat my people as cattle, but I do not mark them out for culling nor do I harvest them like wheat. I take only what I need, and I need little."

Standing, he moved towards her and knelt, his face level with hers, his hands on the arms of her chair, giving her nowhere to escape.
"Your father died long ago, Odette. Before you were born. I knew him well, once. When I was still a man and not this half-live thing." Kolya cocked his head to one side and then chuckled softly. "But it pains me to hear that my beloved Moriwin speaks of me as a monster. If I am a monster, it is surely her doing. It was her curse that made me what I am, Odette. Your mother who turned my heart to ice, left me living this half-life." He removed his gloves and Odette saw that his hands were as pale as his face. Cold fairly radiated from his skin, but he did not touch her. Not yet.

"Your mother made of me a monster for the sole crime of loving her more than anything in this world. The locket is mine, Odette. I gave it her, long ago, as a token of my love. She spurned me, laughed at me, and told me she would marry my friend instead." Kolya's lips drew back in a wolf's smile. His fingers touched the scar along his jaw, remembered the heat of blood on his skin. "Your father was my friend, and your mother bewitched him. He betrayed me, and I killed him. That is the tale your mother hides from you, Odette... and why it was so foolish to raise your hand and place yourself in my power."

~tag~

From where she had sunk down, enjoying the fire, eyes locked on it, she hadn't spied Nikolai watching her enjoy the warmth of the roaring fire. She had felt his eyes, but feared to looking into those black holes, to her, they felt as if they were burning straight into her flesh. Even before she had spied they had been just black empty portals, she had felt that burning. In the carriage, she had felt that burning of her skin as he watched her.
That same burning of her skin, had returned. He was watching her, as he had in the carriage with those limitless black orbs.

His response to her living situation made her cringe visibly, "If you consider it isolation, yes highness, I live in isolation. Mother has never told me exactly why we live as hermits. It is just her and I in our home. Perhaps you're right and it is because she wishes to protect me, but I am forbidden to ask any questions about her past, why we are as we are, or anything about you highness." Her gaze had been locked on the warm flickering light, for a brief moment, they had flicked up to those eyes she feared yet oddly found hypnotic.
"I do not know how she will react highness, perhaps come here and try and collect me. From what you stated earlier, three days I'm to stay here, and on the fourth I leave. I suppose when I do leave, and my mother is waiting for me there at the house, I'll have to beg for forgiveness. Better to ask forgiveness than permission." A thoughtful smile curled up the corners of her full mouth, but that smile faded as memories of past transgressions filled her head. Her mother had been fair with her punishment, but to Odette, it still seemed rather unfair. Expecting a girl of her age to not ask question about where she had come from, or where she might be headed. She was lost in this world, and the man sitting across from her seemed to hold the key to all the questions she had locked away.

Their eyes were still locked when she saw that dangerous, enchanting flicker of sapphire in his eyes. An audible gasp slipped passed her lips, raising a hand, she pressed her long finger to her lips and listened to him speak of his people. There was a coldness, almost bitter, to his voice. The moment he had finished, Odette shook her head and let her hand fall back at her side. "I understand you treat us fairly, but I still don't understand your thinking, regardless. We aren't objects highness, thus why the gods gave us freewill. If they wanted us to be objects to be owned or to be moved about like pieces on a board, they would have never given us the option to CHOOSE our fates. Fear is a strong emotion highness, you've seen what it does to your people. They are reluctant to be your subject, but do so because they fear you. Fear is strong, but love is stronger still. I'm sure, and I speak for the people, but we are eager to love you, but you leave no room in our hearts to love you, when all you do is make us fear."

When he stood, Odette feared that her words had somehow offended him. Like a monster creeping out of the shadows, he made his way over to her. When he had made it over to her, he had sunk down onto one knees, his hands locked on the arms of the chair, trapping her. In that instant, her heart rate picked up. It thundered in her ears, out of habit, she grabbed the locket and began to work it over again, hoping this mindless task would quiet her heart. He would hear it, he would hear it and make a cold comment about it. It was a silly fear, but having the prince so close, Odette was having trouble even breathing.

The moment the words 'died' eased out of his mouth, her heart shuttered. Though the words struck a cord, she couldn't muster up the feelings to cry. She had never known him, and he had never known her. How can you truly miss someone you do not know, nor had the opportunity to love. Still he prince continued on, and as he did, it felt like as if he were going to plunge a knife into her chest. The chuckle that graced her ears suddenly made her shiver, "Beloved?" She repeated, as if she was surprised the Prince might have loved at one point. "You are what you are because of her? My mother does not do anything without reason. Your heart was turned to ice for a reason highness." The moment he pulled the glove from his hand, that same cold radiated from his skin, chilling her even with the heat of the fire.

"I am sorry that she did not love you in return highness, but you speak as if my mother is cold and cruel. I may not know exactly what happened between you and she, and to be quiet frank with you, it is none of my concern. But I will not sit by and listen to you speak as if she is a monster. The heart does not choose who it loves, the gods ordain that, we simply just follow."Those beautiful emerald orbs of hers had locked with the prince's, a sort of conviction flicker like fire beneath them. But that fire faded when that wolfish grin turned his lips up, showing those pearly white teeth of his. She watched in silence as he touched the scar, wondering again how he had come across it.

'Killed' rang out in her ears, over and over again it called to her. He had killed her father, he had taken him away. HE had been the reason why she had never known her father! That knife she had felt, it was now firmly planted in her breast. She ached to pull it out, but fears she would die if she did. "Stop it, stop it, STOP IT!" She yelled, raising her hands to cover her ears, her eyes squeezing shut, "Just stop it!" Her voice broke, when she looked up at the prince again, her emerald eyes held silver tears. "You are a monster. You say my mother 'bewitched' your friend, you speak lies, blasphemy sir! But you killed him! You killed my father, you took him away before-" there was a small sob, "-I could even love him. You're the reason why I envy every damn girl in my village who HAS a father. It was all you! Now I see why my mother locked me away, kept the truth from me. I curse my fate, and I grow eager for the day I leave your cold hell." Her words were hasty, but they had been everything she had locked away, she had pulled the knife out, and this was the result. Only now, after the truth had been told to her, was she able to finally release everything, and it came crashing out of her like a great wave.

"I said that your people are eager to love you, but if you say your heart has been turned ice, then you sir are the one that is incapable of love. My mother cursed you because you took from her the man she loved. You were jealous, angry that you did not hold her favor. So you took away the thing she cherished most. As punishment, you became what you were highness,"she had spat out the last word, "to live this half-life as it were. You deserve your fate, and I curse the gods for ever making ours intertwine."

~tag~

~~Prince Nikolai Ily'ich Kostchei~~

Odette's life seemed to be a mirror of his own in some ways. Kolya almost thought that Moriwin's curse had harmed them both in similar ways. His isolation caused by his curse, hers by her mother's spiteful fears. That thought was both sadly funny and satisfying. He was not alone in his lonely vigil. There was at least one other who suffered with him.

The Prince did not bother to argue with Odette when she criticized his attitude towards his subjects. Her opinions truly did not matter to him. She could believe what she wished. It fell to him to care for the people of this valley, not her, and he did not feel a need to justify his choices to some slip of a girl scarcely out of her youth.

Watching her face as he told her some little of their shared history was delicious. Kolya watched the shock and disbelief on her face and the pain in her eyes was glorious. To someone who felt everything numbly, that hot rush of satisfaction was a feast, and he bared his teeth at the taste of it.
"I know her coldness and her cruelty firsthand, girl." Kolya snapped back at her, his face twisting angrily. Hate was one emotion he did feel, but after so long his hate was as cold as a february night. "Your mother is the reason you have no father. She seduced my friend, my companion. Spurned me for him. We were like brothers, and she led him to betray me." The bitterness dripped from his words, icy cold droplets freezing the air between them. "They both made their choice, and that choice had its price. For Gavril the price was to face me, blade to blade." He reached up and touched the scar, then smirked. "He was faster, but my sword bit deeper that day so long ago. Your father died at my feet, Odette, like the traitor he was."

Her spite and anger were amusing, all that rage and all of it so helpless. Kolya could not help but smile faintly, lips quirking up as he let that anger and hate wash over him.
"Your Mother's price was exile. My Father's men drove her from this kingdom, but not before she had cursed me. You tell me I am incapable of love but you don't know the half of it. I am incapable of humanity, girl. All the softer, finer emotions are lost to me. Memories only, and faint ones at that. I offered Moriwin my heart once, but she cast me aside for another. When I showed her the cost for her actions, when I took her heart from her as she took mine from me, she learned to hate me."

Standing, he looked down at himself, cast aside his other glove.
"This is the result of her hate. Those statues outside are your mother's, as much as mine. None of them would even have heard my name if not for her." He smiled. "They pay for her callous act, Odette. Once again, others bear the consequence of her choices. You, with your childhood stolen, hidden away from the world. Me, my life and hopes. Your countrymen, living in dread of their ruler. What price has Moriwin paid?" The question hung between them, and he turned away from her.

Walking to the fire, he knelt and thrust his hand into it, snuffing the flames in an instant and leaving the room in half-light. The hissing of the logs cooling threw steam into the air, and the chill began to return before it even began to cool.
"Think carefully, Odette, before you speak again." He gestured to a doorway across the long hall. "Through there and up the stairs will lead you to your quarters. They are prepared for guests. Perhaps on the morrow you will have learned to hold your tongue amongst your betters."

The words were a warning, and on that icy note her host stalked from the hall, his shadow long and eerie, thrown this way and that by the flickering blue-white lamps.

~tag~

His words were cold, hard. The blood that coursed through his veins gave him that right, so she assumed he believed. That alone made her blood begin to boil again, the hard copper taste filling her mouth making her want to puke. The anger that twist his face and his features made Odette think, had she struck a nerve? The prince felt nothing, or she didn't think he felt, this emotion could not register on a deeper level like it did for her.

"He died at your feet because you could not bare the thought of my mother loving someone else. You fail to grasp the concept highness that you are the cause for your curse. You're so conceited, so narcissistic that nothing is ever on your head. Is it highness? It's NEVER you're fault, it's always someone else's fault, right? My father may have met your blade, but you lived on to endure this curse. That scar you wear, is a badge of your selfishness, your cold heart, your bitterness and jealousy. You speak lies, filthy lies. I would rather be deaf than listen to this filth." She snapped back, his poison being returned in kind.

Watching him stand and walk away from her, Odette flung herself up from the chair, the wood sliding back and groaning against the stone floor. The urge to run away, to simply get away, far from the prince,was overwhelming. That churning in her stomach made her gag visibly, made her shudder where she stood and grasp at her sides in an feeble effort to try and not lose anything she had eaten. This anger she felt, it had been the strongest feeling she had left in such a long time. It was like a great vine that had started out as a small seed the prince had planted. His own anger, the very water that fed the seed. It curled up towards the sky and burst from her in a great display of power.

His question about what her mother had paid made the rage flush her cheeks with brilliant crimson, the great vine growing. "Are you wallowing in your self pity that you don't realize what she had lost? Perhaps seeing her daughter grow up, clearly in pain that she does not have a father? Or perhaps knowing that she can never hold, kiss or love the one person she did give her heart, forever feeling that loss because of you!Do you not consider this loss?" He turned away from her, how his back looked inviting. If she could stare knives into it, hundreds would have been protruding from his back, Odette relished in that thought.

The hand he had thrust into the fire, dimmed it's light. It sizzled and sputtered, trying to gasp for life, but a cold seemed to flow from the prince's finger tips as if he was the very winter. The warmth she had been enjoying had left her just as quickly as the sympathy she had had for the prince before she knew the monster he really was.

As he pointed towards the hall way, Odette swept past him, ignoring his comment, when she herself stopped in the hallway, she turned and glared, "And perhaps on the morrow you will learn what it's like to have a heart. Oh wait highness forgive me I forget, you don't have one, my mother took it."She would give the prince no more satisfaction in this battle. The thought of staying made the churning in her stomach almost too painful to bare. She she endured. Three days, that was all, three days and she would no longer have to speak with the prince, or look upon him again. She herself would scorn his very name, learn a curse far worse than what her mother had given. Her mother should have cursed him to die, to have cursed him to be what he was, was to curse her very people, to punish her daughter.
This was now one of the new questions Odette wanted to ask her mother, why hadn't she killed the prince instead, and yet cursed him to be a cold, brutal monster?

Perhaps what the prince had said was truth. That thought alone made fear grip the girl's heart.

As she walked away from the great hall, a sharp pain tore through her body, making her gasp and rest against the wall. The pain started in the pit of her stomach and gripped her heart painfully in a mighty squeeze. Odette would have doubled over if not for the walls around her.
She had to stay strong, just for a little longer, three days worth. Her mother would tell her to wipe away her tears and show no emotions, to lock them away. They could be used against her.

But the prince had already seen her cry, had already seen her tears, and that was the worst fate she could have suffered. He would use those tears against her, he knew what bothered her, yet she had no dirt on him. He was, empty.

When she had reached her quarters, Odette fell against the door and silently sobbed, the pain still gripping her heart. The tempest of emotions she had inside of her seemed to have finally broken loose. She was angry, with the prince and her mother,because of them, she was living this 'half life'. Sadness, because her father had been taken from her with no sort of justification, she now knew she would never see him, meet him, or love him. Scared, she was locked in this icy fortress for the next 72 hours; perhaps she herself would be turned into one of those beautiful frozen statues. The thought that did bring her momentary comfort was that she looked like her mother and some of her father. To the prince, she prayed her appearance pained him.

Making her way over to the large bed, Odette fell against it with a 'thump' and hunkered down,losing herself in the warmth and comfort of it all.Childish little wishes filled her head, of how she wished she could bury her face in her mother's arms, even for a moment.
Regardless of it was only a few miles and a short carriage ride away, home felt like a life time away. Reveling in that made began to lull her into beautiful, dreamless sleep, one in which the nightmarish prince was safely out of mind.

~tag~

~~Prince Nikolai Ilyich Kostchei~~

Listening to Odette move through his castle, Kolya thought on her words and how they rankled. How dare she? How DARE SHE speak to him that way? He had killed for less. Kolya pressed his bare hand to a stone wall until it cracked, frost riming the black granite. The only thing keeping Odette alive was his hate for Moriwin. Killing her in a fit of pique would be too easy. He had other plans for Odette. Plans that would drive home his vengeance like an icicle thrust into Moriwin's belly.

"Oh Odette, you will learn." He said to himself as he climbed the steps of his tower. His quarters were as bare and stark as the rest of his castle, furniture that had been antique in his father's day and a bed covered in heavy furs. The hearth, though, lay empty and cold. It had been long since he had bothered with a fire. Looking out the window, he closed his eyes and reached out with his will, called one of his pets from the towers on the outer wall. The raven flew to his window and he tossed it a scrap of dried meat from a bowl on his desk. "I have a task for you, little one. Take a message to an old acquaintance of mine. You will have to find her. Tell her that I have her daughter in my power, and my hand is wrapped around her heart. Tell her that, my friend, and return here." The raven finished its treat and croaked at him, then turned and took flight, disappearing into the night sky on its mission.

Kolya didn't go to bed, he only rarely felt a need to sleep anymore. Instead he wandered the lonely halls of his castle like a ghost. Making his way down into areas he had not visited in years, perhaps even decades, he summoned up cold winds to blow the dust and frost away. It was time for the Kalte-Herzberg to waken. It was time for him to do more than brood alone in the darkness.

Everywhere in his fortress, the lights woke to life. Blue-white flickers brightened until they were as bright as any lamp.
"Ivan! Ivan, rouse yourself you lazy drunk!" He pushed open the doorway to his castellan's chambers, a warm and cozy little area that had once been a guardhouse, quite near the kitchen. The senior living member of his tiny staff roused himself from his stupor and corked the bottle of aquavit he had been nursing. Ivan Morozov was an old man now, in his late fifties and with iron grey hair and beard. He was big, a great bear of a man, age had merely pared away the softness of youth and left him as hard as an old oak. Once he had been a lumberjack and woodcutter, helped to run his family's sawmill. His reasons for volunteering to make the journey up the mountain to this cold place were many, but included gambling debts and angry husbands. For almost twenty years now, he had acted as his Prince's chief representative. It was he who sent one or more of the handful of servants down the mountain to purchase supplies, he who saw that things in the castle were always as they should be... and he who drank just enough every night that he could sleep a dreamless sleep.

"Sire! What do you need of me?" Morozov pulled on his fur cap and jacket, stepped into his heavy leather boots with the big silver buckles upon them. The smell of liquor on his breath was strong, his complexion florid from the indulgence. "Everyone is asleep, but I will see to whatever you need."

Kolya looked at the man. Remembered how he had given him a second chance. How he had marked him deeper than he did most of his guests. There was a drop of ice in Ivan's veins now, as there was in the hearts of all of his servants. His hold on them was more than mere fear and authority. They were as much his creatures as his wolves and ravens. More, in some ways. All this passed through his mind in the long seconds before he spoke.
"Our guest will be staying longer than three days. See that the cook and the maid are prepared. You have my permission to take someone into town to purchase additional supplies, but do not linger and do not dally in any taverns. You can drink when you return, Ivan." The warning was simple but the castellan nodded hastily.
"Of course, highness. Of course! I will talk to everyone at first light. We will arrange everything."

The prince nodded curtly and turned to leave, letting the door swing shut as a night breeze caught it. Everyone who stayed here had their reasons, there were only four of them besides himself and his pets. Each one had nowhere else to go, each one offered to come to this place. He had weighed them, learned their secrets and their hearts and then he had given them a home. It was not an easy life, but it was a quiet one away from whatever they fled.

And now he had a new guest. One who would not be leaving once her three days were done. One more who would stay with him. He would chill Odette's heart, take her away from her mother utterly.

If he could not have the woman he once loved, he would have her daughter.

Revenge would be sweet, Kolya told himself as he climbed back up to his quarters and sprawled in a chair, looking out at the night sky.

Revenge would indeed be sweet.

Sweet, and as cold as his heart.

~tag~

The dreamless sleep that Odette had been yearning for had not come. Rather, nightmares of pale white hands reaching out from the darkness plagued her sleepless mind. Often time she would run from them, but yet they always seemed to stretch out and catch her in their chilling grasp. Her mind feared that she would become one of them, they who stood frozen in the courtyard of the mighty, foreboding keep that was the Prince's castle.

This last nightmare was the same as the other had been. The prince stood in front of her, dressed in his dark garb, smiling at her with those white teeth, that wolf like grin she had already come to know twisting his features into that of a foul monster. Words whispered past his blue tinted lips, but yet no sound could be heard. In that moment, her very core told her to run, run from the monster who was colder than ice, to just run. And she did. Each time she would turn and flee from that grin and that dark, brooding figure, and each time she ran, her world grew darker. Her breath came out in large plumes of fog before her eyes, faster she ran, cold chilling her finger tips, her nose and lips.
There would always be something standing still, a large figure she would press her back firmly to. She could hear her own heart beat frantically beneath her breast. 'Thump,thump, thump', it cried out wildly, a loud plea to continue to run.

And always on the third beat, those hands would come out from the darkness and wrap around her chest, one cold hand clasping firmly over her mouth in order to silence the scream that always wanted to erupt from her lungs. But it would be silenced.

~tag~
This time however, Odette had pulled her mouth free from the iron grasp.

When the scream rang out, it woke her. She threw herself up, her heart frantically beating beneath her breast, her breath coming out in ragged gasps. She had worked herself beneath the heavy furs,and was now tangled in them. With a shaky hand, she pressed a hand to her forehead and felt the cool beads of sweat that had collected on her skin.
This was the first time in what seemed like years she had had a nightmare, but she knew, felt it down in the very bowels of her being, that this was not going to be the last.

Three days she told herself, this becoming her own silent mantra. Three days and she was free.

Throwing back the furs, Odette made her way over to one of the windows and looked out at the rising sun. Childishly she prayed it would melt away the cold that grasped her and this castle, but something deeper told her that the cold would never leave this place, not while the prince still lived. Turning from the window, disappointed and tired of looking at the frost that crawled over the panes of glass.

"At least it was a few hours of sleep," she murmured to herself, looking down at her rumpled dress. How would she change, she had no clothes to change into and the ones that she wore felt as cold as death themselves. Yet they gave her comfort, she felt safe in her mother's gown. Returning to the bed, she pulled one of the furs off the bed and wrapped it about her shoulders, draping it over herself like a great cloak.

When her emerald orbs shot towards the door, a shiver ran down the length of her spine. She didn't want to face him, even thoughts of him made her sick. Memory of last night had left a foul taste in her mouth. If she could sleep for the next two days, she would take that sweet substitute, but it was a naive wish she knew would not come true.
With a shuttering sigh, she pulled the heavy door of her chamber open and stepped out into the bare hallway, her gaze flicking from one end of the hall down to the other. She knew she would see him this morning, knew that their paths would cross and the first words out of his mouth would be something foul and cold. That was all he knew of conversations it seemed, to insert his authority and add his cold touch to everything. But thoughts filled her head, what had the prince been like before was this sad remnant of his former self? Perhaps at one point he had been warm and affectionate, beautiful even. Perhaps he had been kind even. The history of his curse eluded her, what was the truth of this foul curse?

Silently she padded down towards the great hall where just the night before, there had been a great fire burning. Now in the large hearth, smoldering embers remained. The heat would be welcomed, as would the silence and lack of company. When she had reached it, she sank down and pulled the fur tighter around her shivering body. With one hand she kept the fur tightly around her, the other stretched forth from beneath the makeshift cloak to feel the remaining warmth from the embers. "A few days is all you will have to endure. Hold your tongue and do not speak to him, you will be fine."Her voice no more than a whisper, bounced off the high ceilings and empty walls and returned to her. This mantra was doing little for her nerves, in fact it was making the knot tighten each time she repeated it to herself.

~~Prince Nikolai Ilyich Kostchei~~

Odette had only been in the great hall for a few minutes when a young woman entered. She had curling blonde hair and a round face that matched her plump figure, and wore a dirndl that seemed far too little for such a cool room. The skirt and bodice were dark blue while the blouse and apron were white, and she hurried over to Odette when she saw her.

"I looked for you in your quarters, miss, but you weren't there." The girl couldn't be more than a couple years older than Odette, and her open, earnest face was worried as she knelt and placed a hand on Odette's shoulder. "The Master wished me to help you this morning. I have clothes for you, but first I was to show you the bath house. Come. Come!" She slipped an arm around Odette and hauled her to her feet, smiling a little worriedly. Around her right wrist Odette could see the pale, almost silvery mark of a scar in the shape of a hand. It was like that of the groom yesterday who drove the carriage, though his had been on his bicep.

"My name is Petra Kraus," she said, as she towed Odette towards a side passageway that led down towards the rear of the keep. "I am the maid here. Ivan told me that I am to stay with you today, to make sure you don't get lost in the halls. They can all look alike when you are new." She smiled, showing deep dimples and white teeth. "After you bathe and dress, I'm told that you will join the Master for breakfast. Irina has been up half the night preparing."

Their path took them down long corridors and then into a cave. Steam filled the air and real oil lamps provided illumination. The air was warm and inviting, and a large round pool of water bubbled and steamed towards the back of the cavern. A natural hot spring.

On a table by the pool were thick woolen towels, soap, hairbrushes and a change of clothes.
"Do you want help in bathing, miss Odette?" Petra asked. The girl was a head shorter than Odette, but a good deal stronger and more solidly built, like most farm girls. "Only, you should hurry. It wouldn't do to keep the Master waiting, you see."

~tag~

It hadn't been but a few minutes before someone came into the room, Odette though had not been paying attention, she expected it to be the prince. When a girl's voice pulled Odette from day dreaming, she jumped and turned wild green eyes towards the young woman. "I'm sorry, I couldn't sleep, nightmares." The raven haired woman smiled shyly, turning her eyes back towards the flickering light of the remaining embers. When the woman commented about 'the master' Odette couldn't help but roll her eyes, "Isn't he kind." She growled, pulling the fur close to her body, his imagine in her mind alone was enough to cause a spell of cold to wash over her.

Odette had been completely taken by surprise when the young woman hauled her up to her feet and began to drag her about the keep, the word bath was all she had heard, by the gods the man wasn't a complete animal, Odette thought with a wicked little grin. She had expected the prince to have nothing, no clothes, no place for a bath, not even servants like this girl. The surprised never ended when it came to him, she thought bitterly. Looking over the girl, Odette admitted that the girl was pretty, and she looked about to be her own age. Good, someone Odette could pry answers from.As she continued to take in the girl's appearance, from the corner of her eyes, a perfectly formed, burn or perhaps what scar, wrapping around the girl's wrist. It was formed in the shape of a long fingered hand, only one person was cruel enough to consider branding his servants.

This had not been the first time she had seen this marking.

"Forgive me ma'am but, that scar around your wrist, where did you get it? I noticed the carriage driver had one as well, but on his arm. Does the prince have some sort of desire to brand his servants with a hand, showing his never ending ownership on them? Or perhaps it gets his blood heated, which I doubt his royal coldness could even get heated from that OR a woman." Her voice dripped with poison, memories of their brief but sickening conversations filled her head.

When the young woman gave her name, Odette smiled, "Petra hm? Pretty name, I'm Odette. Please don't call me ma'am or lady, or whatever other insufferable terms...Ivan told you to call me?" She raised an slender eyebrow, surly that was not the prince's name, "From the sounds of it, that is not the prince's name, either way Petra, just call me Odette, please." Though her next comment made Odette want to stop in her tracks, "Join the Master for breakfast hm? Lovely, another outing in which that narcissistic, egotistical, foul mannered monster and I are stuck in the same room. Oh how I look forward to it and hearing more foul likes spill from those lips today."

By the time they had reached their destination, warm air filled her lungs for the first time in what felt like ages, all the tension, all the anger that had been freezing her over like the snow in mid-February, began to melt away the moment the thick steam kissed her skin gently. Odette had be so lost in insulting the prince that the bath wasn't even observed until they were literally standing in front of it.

Stepping away from Petra, Odette looked towards the waters and sighed,her first instinct was to just jump in and the waters calm her, but she refrained and began the process of peeling the wrinkled clothes from her cold form. When Petra spoke, she rolled her eyes, "I'm sure high royal painfulness gave you those instructions directly. If I must hurry than yes, please. I know it is a lot to ask, but I appreciate your help." When Odette stood naked in the room, she almost shuttered at the feel of the steam against her bare skin. By the gods it was heavenly.

Dipping a toe into the warm waters, an audible moan slipped between her parted lips the warmth welcoming. Sinking into the water, Odette let the warm waters and the steam ease the cold from her bones. Sinking down deeper into the bath, up to her collar bones, Odette smiled at Petra, "If you have other things to do today other than baby sit me, you can point me in the direct of a library, or leave me at my room. I know how to get from my room to the great hall, those two rooms should be enough place to keep me occupied." She almost wanted to throw in a quick ' staying away from his highness was on the top of the 'to do' list'. "But thank you for helping me. This castle is a prison, I have but two more days of this place and then I can leave and never return." She sounded cold, and she knew it, but it was the prince that had left such a bad taste in her mouth.

Odette's eyes flicked up to Petra and she smiled, "Forgive me, I would rather be a frozen statue than have to deal the prince any longer than I have to. He- he's such a cold beast! Blaming my mother for his curse, for his lack of heart, this 'half life' as he continues to refer to it. Petra, how can you stand such a cold hearted man, take orders from him, do his bidding and not once objected to some of his outlandish requests? I would rather meet the end of his blade like my father did than stay here an eternity."

~tag~

~~Prince Nikolai Ilyich Kostchei~~

Petra kept her tongue at first as Odette spoke to her, but when Odette mentioned her scar she glanced down at it self-consciously and bit her lip, looking away from her master's guest as her round face tensed. Releasing Odette, she rubbed the scar and shook her head, then simply hooked her arm through the taller girl's and continued to tow her on their way through the castle. The way Odette spoke was having an effect, though. One that showed in her tense, bustling manner.

"Ivan is the Master's castellan, m'lady." Petra replied, letting Odette go as they entered the bath-house. "He told me that we are to treat you as an honoured guest. The Prince leaves us alone to manage things for him much of the time, he has more important matters to attend." Something in the twist of her mouth showed that she was growing unhappy with those orders.

As Odette slipped from her clthes and into the steaming hot waters, Petra looked away and carried over a stack of towels and a large cake of oatmeal soap, setting them down by the edge of the pool. She didn't move to join Odette, though. Odette's words seemed to bother her and she sniffed disdainfully as Odette asked to be shown the library and declared her home to be a prison.
"If you would rather grace the master's garden then you should tell him so at breakfast. If you continue to speak like that I hope he obliges you." Petra snapped at her, flushing angrily. Unshed tears gleamed in her blue eyes. "This 'prison' is my home, the only one I have, and all of us are here at the Prince's grace. Show some respect! He has given us all more than you know."

Petra huffed and held up her hand, showing the scar on her wrist. "The Prince marks all who come here, it is part of the price we pay when we choose or are chosen. You will wear his mark soon enough, and I hope he teaches you some respect!" Her anger was as hot as the water and she stormed out, pausing at the door to look back at Odette. "Milord Prince expects you for breakfast in the great hall. For your sake I hope you learn some manners before you make your appearance."

Petra slammed the door behind herself, closing her eyes and beginning to cry as she leaned against the stone wall and held herself. Memories of her life before she volunteered to journey up the mountain came back to her, and her shoulders shook as she sobbed.

* * *

Out in the woods, Kolya stalked with his pack of wolves. They howled as they ranged about him, bounding in the hip-deep snow. They were on the trail of a herd of deer, and as they came closer to their prey Kolya whistled his wolves out further, to drive their prey back towards him.

Standing atop the snow, his feet as stable on the soft surface as they would be on solid stone, Nikolai drew his sword and waited. His pets were barking now, snapping at the heels of the tired deer. They had been hunting them since before dawn, moving them steadily back towards the base of the mountain. Now his pets were cutting a couple of the more tired deer away from their herd, forcing them towards where he waited in the shadow of a poplar tree.

As they dashed past, bounding in the deep snow, the Prince drove his sword into the doe's heart. The other he caught by the antlers and threw to the ground. As the doe lay in the snow, blood steaming, Kolya pressed his bare palm to the stag's chest. Frost spread over its skin as he chilled its heart to ice in an instant.

As he rose, his breath steamed once as he revelled in the brief sensation of warmth. Closing his eyes, Kolya felt that fleeting sensation fall away and the cold already stealing through his veins. His next breath scarcely steamed at all, and by the third his body was as cold as ice once more.

Hefting the stag, he whistled for his pack. Their reward would be the doe, and they closed in to feast as he trudged across the snowdrifts, carrying the cooling stag's body over one shoulder. Kurt was waiting on the road at the base of the mountain, and the groom helped him load the stag onto the back of the carriage to carry them both back up to the castle. Fresh venison for dinner, Irina would be pleased.

~tag~

The way that the girl touched the scar almost made Odette wonder, did Petra perhaps feel something for the prince? The thought alone was enough was sickening and made the girl's empty stomach do somersault after somersault. The foul, bitter taste of bile filled her mouth, it took everything Odette had in her to choke the foul taste back.

It had hardly occurred to the raven haired woman that Petra may actually respect the prince, but the girl was too busy enjoying the warm water to see the girl's pretty face distort at Odette's hasty words. When Petra spoke of the frozen garden and how she hoped the prince would make Odette a frozen statue, Odette turned, eyes wide as she started at the girl in shock. Had this girl, the one who seemed so well mannered, just throw an insult back at her? To say that the girl was not taken aback would have been a lie, "If I have to stay here much longer I will make sure he does!" Odette snapped back, her own cheeks flushing with anger. In a childish fit of rage, Odette snorted and turned her back on the girl. It was true she knew nothing of Petra's story, nor had she even cared to ask, but it was clear that the girl held the prince in high respects. This was what caused the temper tantrum.

Her next comment made Odette pull herself out of the bath, eyebrows knit angrily together, "You are correct, I do not know your story. You judge me for what I say about the prince, yet you have not asked mine, or why I have such hate for him!" But Petra's next comment struck a chord. A darkness filled Odette's youthful eyes, a flame flickering dangerously behind them, "I swear to you, he touches me and I will cut his hand off myself!" But by the time the comment had been spoke, Petra has already left her.

Odette stood alone, and naked in the cavern, heart beating heavily against her rib cage. She was furious! Whatever the reason the girl had come or her seemingly undying respect for that cold beast, it didn't excuse what he had already done Odette and HER mother!

Tears stung the back of Odette's eyes as she stood there, for a long while she tried to fight them back, but when the tears did fell from her eyes, she again began to say the same mantra. Over and over again she coaxed, 'A few more day, just a few more days.'

With a shaky little sigh and her eyes still locked on the door for a moment longer, Odette turned her back towards to the entrance that Petra had just run from. She was already tired, it seemed that everyone, at least the two people she had come into contact with, believed that the prince was infallible. ‘How dare she,’ Odette thought angrily, taking two great steps back into the bath, snatching up the oatmeal soap and running it over her glistening naked form, “-how dare she say such things to me!’ The anger gradually began to build inside of her, she could feel it, a terrible poison coursing through her veins.

Angrily she continued to wash. Over her arms, her chest and belly, and yet the more she washed, the more that the shorter woman’s words came back to haunt her in the silence of the bath. Clutching the soap, Odette looked from it to the wall, and back to it, and with an angrily cry, she threw the soap against the wall in a fit of childish rage. In that instant, Odette silently sobbed to herself, much like a child, she began to wish to feel her mother’s warm embrace, no longer cursing Moriwin’s name for keeping her locked up and away from the festival. There had been a purpose, and Odette had been too childish, too selfish to realize that THIS was the reason why she had.

Several minutes had gone by before Odette finally sniffled and wiped the reaming tears off her rosy cheeks with the back of her long fingered hand. Another shaky little sigh escaped her lips as she hauled
herself from the bath and wrapped herself in the comfort of the towels. Looking over towards the only piece of furniture in the cavern, Odette padded her way towards it. Reaching out, letting the towel drop and pool around her feet, Odette gathered up the salmon colored dress.

Slipping the thing over her head, Odette set to work cinching up the sides. The black cord laced down at the top of her hip bone, crisscrossing itself in an X shaped pattern all the way up to her armpit. Having done this to both sides, she straightened the embroidered collar about her neck. Brightly colored flowers of reds and orange were expertly cross stitched into a silky band of fabric. This same band wrapped around her biceps, hips and helm of the dress. The sleeves hung down in long bell sleeves, the same band around the ends of the sleeves. After she had finished dressing, Odette worked one of the brushes through her long, matted hair. The brush would catch large tangles, gradually they were worked out.

The long raven locks fell over her shoulders in glossy waves down to the middle of the girl’s back. Taking in a deep, slow breath, still trying to calm herself after Petra’s comment, Odette turned and swept out the door, closing it behind her with a bang. When she came out into the hallway that Petra had led her down, and hearing the soft sobs behind her, she turned. Deep down Odette hated seeing other’s cry, her words had been hasty, but they had all been what she felt.

“For whatever it is worth, I-“she fell silent for a long time, mouth agape, “I am sorry if I offended you about what I said of the prince.” The words felt like a lie, but in truth she was sorry. More so that she had made the girl cry, not that she had been telling her what her heart felt. She didn’t except the girl to accept the apology, nor did she care.

“Please, take me to where ever it is that the prince has requested I join him for breakfast.” In the back of her head she thought of how she could not wait to be as far from his again as possible, even if that meant retreating back to her room.

~~Prince Nikolai Ilyich Kostchei~~

Petra was still sitting there, arms wrapped around her knees, her face buried between her arms. When Odette reappeared and spoke she looked up. Her blue eyes were red from crying and she sniffled as she listened to Odette's words.
"You don't understand." Petra said. "This is a refuge for us. None of us have anywhere else to go! You volunteered to come, just like us, but YOU have a home to go back to don't you?" The words were a bitter accusation. "The Master makes his home a refuge for us. I came here to escape a marriage to a cruel older man. My father all but sold me to him, to pay his debts. The Prince gives us a place where we can live when there is nowhere else left. He gives us work, he gives us a home!" The girl closed her eyes and shook her head. "He cares about us, as much as he can. He is not an easy master, but he is a good man!"

The fierce loyalty in her voice shook her, but Petra managed to shake off her sorrow and frustration.
"You can leave, when your time is done. I have to stay here. Remember that. You may hate him but he is more a father than my own flesh and blood was!" Those words triggered another bout of sobs and Petra forced herself to her feet, tears still streaming from her eyes. "Don't you dare anger him. Don't you dare! If he casts us out we'll have nothing left." Petra wrapped her arms around Odette and buried her face against the girl's shoulder, trying to regain some control of herself and failing.

"Oh gods and demons, what are you about girl?" It was a deep, rough voice that interrupted them, and the felt-booted, bearded figure who appeared down the corridor had the peculiar disapproving expression many men wore when faced with women in tears. As though they didn't know what to do and wished the problem would just go away. "Petra! Petra, calm down girl. You've both been keeping his highness waiting." Ivan Morozov stomped up to them, rubbing a callused hand through his grey hair and grimacing as he drew Petra away from Odette. "Hush lass. Go see Irina in the kitchens. Tell her that you both can have the rest of the morning to yourselves. Go on, now, I'll see to our guest." Petra shuddered and nodded, her face flushed almost as bright as Ivan's florid complexion. She glanced back at Odette but Ivan's large hands turned her and she nodded again and made her way down the corridor, still sniffling.

The Prince's castellan was a bear of a man, even larger than the burly groom who had driven the carriage up the mountain from Eisengrad. Part of that bulk was the thick coat and the fur hat he wore, but much of it was simply him. The faint smell that hung about him reminded Odette of some of her mother's medicines, tinctures she made with herbs and strong spirits.
"You'll be Odette then, hey? I'm Ivan Morozov, the Prince's castellan. You've been keeping him waiting, girl. Best be coming along to breakfast, he's a patient man but he's a fierce temper to him as well. You'd be a fool to anger him... or to anger him any more than you already have. I've never seen him in such a mood, and I've been keeper of his keys for nearly forty years now." The man certainly didn't look so old, but the Prince was three centuries now and he looked no more than thirty.

"Come along. You must be hungry. Don't mind Petra, she's..." Ivan's voice trailed off and he frowned, his bushy eyebrows beetling. "She's a good girl, but it's been only a short time she's been here. Not even three years now. Her memories haven't faded enough. Not yet." He grunted and looked at Odette carefully, then jerked his head. "Awfully skinny, aren't you? A good meal'd do you good."

Stomping off down the corridor, not waiting for Odette to respond, Ivan led her off towards the dining room where the Prince was waiting for her.

~tag~

Watching the girl rise, eyes red from the tears she had been crying, Odette sighed. Her words were true, she had volunteered, but weren’t her own issues with the prince enough to be contended with? “Yes, I have a home! But can you consider it a life when your mother locks you away because of what she has done, your father murdered before you are even old enough to know him, to love him?! Explained to me how what the prince did was fair or kind! He may have given you a home, a place to work, but what he did to my family, what he’s done to me, is inexcusable. We have our difference about the prince, and from my stand point, the prince is a heartless beast whom I’d rather freeze to death and become one of his many status than get to know him any more than I already have.” When the girl mentioned the prince cared, tears sprung to Odette’s eyes.

“Cares? Cares?!”She bellowed, cheeks turning crimson with anger, “If he cared he would not have gotten jealous at my mother loving another. No! Rather he deiced it better to kill him and run her away from his kingdom. For twenty-two years I have lived as a prisoner in my own home. Answer me this Petra-“Odette spat angrily, hands balled tightly into fists, “-is that a life?!”

When she spoke again, reminding Odette once more than she had a place to go. That was about when Odette was taken aback by the shorter girl wrapper her arms around her and sobbing into her shoulder. For a long while the raven haired woman stood there, baffled as to what she should do. With another shaky sigh, Odette looked down towards Petra , “I am sorry.” Slowly unclenching her hand, Odette raised it and began to stroke the girl’s hair. Even if this girl was older than she, she did not act it. The comment of angering the prince was going to be held in the back of her mind, it certainly was going to be difficult NOT to anger him.

In that same moment that Odette had opened her mouth to further console the poor girl, a deep, booming voice made her jump and look for its source. A huge figure loomed further down the corridor, he stood much taller than either of the two girls, a great bear of a man. Odette dropped her arms at her sides as he strode closer to them, his eyes showing his disappointment. His comment of the prince made Odette roll her eyes, she had been tempted to mention that keeping that spoiled brat waiting might do him a bit of good, but she remembered Petra’s comment, and bit back the comment. That was when Petra was yanked away, Odette had thought the girl may be in trouble, but the next words out of the castellan had proven she wasn’t.

The girl seemed almost hesitant to leave Odette, but the raven hair girl managed a smile, hoping to convey to Petra that she would be fine. Watching Petra leave until she was no longer in sight, Odette turned her emerald orbs towards the brutish man. His smell reminded her of home, strange how it smelled so similar.

Looking up to Ivan, Odette nodded with a quirked eyebrow, “Yes sir, I am Odette, and charmed to meet you.” She commented, looking the man up and down before falling silent. Ivan’s next words made Odette smirk, so she had gotten under his skin, good! When the brute fell silent, she had opened her mouth to speak, but was quickly ushered forward, and a little dumbstruck at Ivan’s comment.

“And perhaps you should lay off the spirits. The prince is in a foul mood, no surprise there. The only smile that man can muster up is that wolfish grin, I’m surprised he has little more than any other emotion than begin foul, dictating everything because he is crown prince, and having the mannerisms of a troll.” How she wanted to ask if breakfast was truly necessary, she knew that there would be more foul insults between the two. The prince would start off by asking if she had slept well, which she would dually answer; no she had not slept well, her mind had been plagued by nightmares of him.

“Petra is sweet, and I can not blame her for her emotions, I suppose if I had nowhere else to run and the prince had been the only kind, if you can call that man kind, person to her, I would have great love for him as well.” If Ivan was anything like Petra, she was expecting a great explosion of emotions. “I have but two more days of him and his pompous attitude, just two more days. I will darken your door step no more after those two days.”

~tag~

~~Prince Nikolai Ilyich Kostchei~~

The Castellan looked at Odette and shrugged his broad shoulders when his master's guest reproached him.
"I could hear you shouting almost all the way to the great hall, and you worry about my behaviour?" He chuckled. "My Lord Prince knows I seek solace in the bottle and he understands so long as it does not make me unfit to serve him. We all have our vices here. Yours," the elderly Morozov looked at her with an almost sad look, "seems to be your short temper and sharp tongue. Perhaps you are willing to bear the cost of your words, but had you thought that others must bear them as well?"

Ivan led her through the halls, but paused again when she mentioned Petra.
"Petra has had a hard life, coming here was the first true choice she made for herself. Can you blame her, that she tries to make the best of that choice?" Ivan grunted and shook his head. "The Prince is not a kind man, nor always a good one. What he is, m'lady, is your liege lord. Deserving of respect. When you insult him, you only show yourself to be a petulant child instead of the young woman you have the seeming of. You made an adult's choice, placing yourself in the Prince's hands... will you let him make a child of you just because you hate him?" There was a challenge in Ivan's voice, but before Odette could respond he was hauling open the doors to the dining room.

It was lit by the morning sun, not the blue-white witchlight that provided illumination elsewhere in the castle. Great windows ran down the eastern wall of the room, illuminating tapestries and paintings of the Prince's family history. A great long dining table ran the length of the room, the meal laid out was at a smaller table by the windows. It was placed just so, and the morning sunlight left her host sitting in the shadow of the drapes while the place set for her was in sunlight.

The Prince rose and gave a faint bow, just a slight forward lean and inclination of his head. Raising his hand, he beckoned her, once. Today he was dressed in a grey tunic and black trousers, a white sash tied about his waist. The tunic was worked with silver embroidery in a pattern like frost creeping across glass, and his long white hair was drawn back and held in a loose ponytail by a silver ring. Her place was set with fine china and silver cutlery, while his was empty except for the thick ledger she had been given when she volunteered.
"Odette. Good morrow. I know you have ample reason to hate me, but for the time of your stay you are the ambassador of my people. I hope you will deign to eat with me, to begin our business." His voice was soft and low, and his dark eyes did not flinch when he gazed at her. The night had cooled his temper, feeding had allayed his hunger and he was prepared to make peace, or at least attempt it.

After all, if she would not even hear him he could never hope to sway her.

~tag~