"...there's just something beautiful about walking on snow that nobody else has walked on. It makes you believe you're special, even though you know you're not." - Carol Rifka Brunt

Years pass before I leave the forest again, and this time I do so alone. Aedan was spending an entire moon cycle with Idunn, leaving me to my own devices. I heard rumours of snow falling and it has been centuries since I last saw it. My parents finally agreed to grant me two weeks of leave after begging them incessantly for days.

Five days of hard traveling finally brings me to the edge of the forest where green trees change to a faded grey with white frost. As I break out of the forest, crisp air emanates from a white landscape stretching out in front of me.

A line of trees stand guard at small dam, their tops burdened by heavy snow. I smile, knowing that I emerged from the forest where I wanted to - a deserted stretch of land uninhabited by humans. I shiver as I regard the valley in front of me. It is truly magical. My eyes are drawn to the dam, it's soft crystal surface not frozen over. Perhaps it is not yet cold enough for it to do so.

I shrug and focus on the task at hand - collecting logs for a fire so that I won't freeze to death. The wet snow will make the task slightly more difficult. Luckily the area has enough twigs and branches scattered under the trees, and I soon have enough for an adequate fire.

A rippling breaks through the dam's surface, causing me to reach for my dagger. This waterbody is not big enough to contain an animal with a size matching that noise in the water. I carefully withdraw my dagger, knowing that I would be better armed against a beast with it.

I stagger backwards as an unexpected beast emerges from the water, with golden locks as bright as the sun. Water drips down onto the snow, forming craters in his wake.

Disbelief paralyses me.

Khairrim Cadeyrn, I am cursed to meet you wherever I go.

What is the chance of meeting him in the most remote stretch of land outside ArBrae when I finally leave the forest after years?

A cold abyss fills me as I wait for it.

The dreaded moment comes as he turns towards me and freezes over with clouds forming in his breath, realising that he is not alone. His blue eyes reflect my disbelief, and then the chill moves into them.

"Laelia."

His whisper stretches through the abyss between us, leaving a strange ache in my heart.

I don't want to greet him by either his name or his title, yet I am forced to acknowledge him by ancient customs. Lowering my head in cultured respect, my voice hitches as I finally find the courage to speak. "I must be cursed to keep on meeting you in all these unexpected places."

For a moment he looks astonished and I fear retribution from my failure to comply to tradition. Yet, any action in retaliation would, by default, implicate him and, knowing my father's heart, place strain on the relationship between The Lord of Sun and Water and the elves of ArBrae.

Desolation settles on his face. "No, I am the one that is cursed."

So, it is a curse to meet me?

My lip starts to sting as my teeth continue to sink into it.

We stare at each other for what feels like two lifetimes, unspoken words filling an uncomfortable silence.

He starts to shiver and finally reaches for a blue cloak neatly folded on the ground.

"I was about to start a fire, you're welcome to join me - if you want to," I offer, pointing to the logs I have collected. No matter the events of the past, it is my duty to provide him with help.

He clenches a fist. "Thank you for the invitation. I will join you."

"What?" My disbelief causes me to drop the last dead branches in my arms, the dead weight thereof sinking into the snow.

"You invited me to a fire. As I am cold and your sovereign, how could I decline the generous offer from a subject?"

"Uhm-uh." I almost withdraw my invitation, but he is already walking towards me.

"Or do you want to withdraw your invitation and cast shame on your family?"

I shake my head fervently. "No, not at all. "

What are we going to talk about? The weather? The snow? Your fickle nature? How you once kissed me passionately then stopped abruptly as if I am a poison?

"I'll help you with the fire once I'm dressed. The wet logs might pose a challenge."

Astonished by his offer to help, I stare at him as he starts to take his shirt off. I immediately avert my eyes and listen to the water dripping as he wrings the shirt out. Hurriedly I scramble to collect the logs I dropped at my feet.

Moments later he joins me, taking the logs from me and then moving to the pile of wood I readied.

My unabashed staring continues as he struggles with the fire, barely managing to get smoke.

My astonishment at his acceptance finally subsides and I join him at the logs. "Can I try?"

"Of course, but I doubt you will be able to start one. These are quite wet."

Soon after, my fire sizzles away and starts to provide hope in the desolate cold.

His curls, previously slick with water, have dried, transformed into golden wisps floating on his head as he shakes it in disbelief. "I forgot about the fire," he mumbles to himself a moment later.

Pretending to not have heard his off-hand comment, I warm my hands with the flames leaping into the air.

He stands up with the grace of a mountain gazelle jumping between dangerous ledges. "I'll go get some water from the dam. It should be faster than melting snow. Would you mind handing me something to fetch it in?"

It must have been the kiss that went wrong.

Prior to that he was also this polite and well-mannered. At the time I even thought that his consideration and composed air outweighed that of my father.

"Well, do you have something for me to fetch the water in, or did you come on an expedition without thinking it through?"

With my head nodding like a twig that just had a sparrow jump from it, I frantically empty the contents of my bag in front of me. I grasp a small pot and hold it out to him. "I apologise for it being so small. I didn't think I would be throwing a dinner party."

He laughs and takes the pot from me. My hand jerks away as if scalded by hot water when his accidentally brush against my fingers.

"It should be enough to give us both three quarters of a cup of tea," he replies simply.

Forcing my breath to steady, I watch his back as he heads to the water. After squatting down and filling the pot, he puts it down next to him. He cups water in his hands and splashes it over his face, staying like that for a long moment before he grasps the pot with water again.

As he makes his way back, I carefully repack my belongings that I scattered on the snow moments before leaving the lid of the pot next to the fire.

"Did you know that there was once a whole winter of snow in the forest?" He gently pushes the pot into the fire with one of the unused logs.

Not sure whether he is joking, I stare at him. Everyone knows that the forest never has snow with the only difference between winter and summer being the amount of rain and the colour of the sun.

"No, you didn't know that. They barely mention it in the history books, as the ArBrae Snowfall is overshadowed by other events in history at the time. It was during the time of your parents' youth."

"My father never told me about snow in ArBrae, but he mentioned seeing it outside the forest," I venture cautiously.

"He wasn't in the forest at the time. Aylissa was though. I wish I could describe the beauty of ArBrae covered in pure white. It is a sight like no other. Imagine standing on the stone clearing and looking out on a forest of white."

"It must have been beautiful," I say trying to imagine, but somehow an ArBrae lacking colour feels empty and lonely.

"It is the second most beautiful thing in white I've ever seen," he says staring past me.

"What's the first?"

His gaze shifts to me, an uncomfortable weight obvious in them.

"Seems like we need to change the topic. What about we discuss the weather?" I suggest, avoiding his eyes.

Then I realise that we were talking about the weather. And even talking about the weather isn't working.

I stifle a giggle.

He smiles. "We just tried that."

"So what about you do the talking and I just listen and not talk, since I seem to botch things up?"

"It's not you it's me," he replies mockingly.

"I've heard humans say that when they end relationships. But we don't have any sort of relationship, so I don't believe you. I doubt you can call the staring and frowning and one kiss a relationship at all." my hand smacks in front of my mouth when I realised that I just voiced my thoughts out loud.

His eyes narrow. "Maybe I should do the talking and you just listen."

"Excellent idea. I don't know why I didn't think of it." My words drip with sarcasm.

That unlocks a smile from him.

He tells me more about snow and the adaptations humans have made to overcome the challenge it poses to their daily life. I listen in genuine silence as I learn about sleighs, and skis, and insulated walls. Poorer humans often get cold and die during winters, he states with compassion etched on his forehead. He tells me that cities have to store food, that there are certain foods that grow better during winter, and that certain foods are traditionally more associated with winter.

My whole supply of tea dwindles as we continue to boil more water for tea for the ongoing conversation. As our cups remain full, the conversation has to continue.

When we drink the last of the tea, I'm unable to suppress my yawn.

He gives no hint of leaving, instead he throws the last log on the fire.

Without realising the change from consciousness to sleep, I dream about cities in snow as the night grows colder.

Yet those dreams melt as they are covered in blue warmth and I wake to a fire newly fed with wood and a pot with boiling water.

Standing up, I realise that I'm covered by a blue cloak that does not beling to me.