[au] an early snow

[the_seafarer]

It's only mid-autumn, as the Bar-year reckons, but one morning Caspian wakes early to find that the light coming through his window has that particular muted quality to it that only comes from sifting through clouds and a veil of snow.

And snow it is indeed, when he comes outside: it crunches pleasantly beneath his boots as his breath freezes in the air and his cheeks turn pink with the cold. Snow; and still it falls, silent and light.

He heads to the stables with the intention of finishing his chores quickly so he can let the horses out to frolic in it, whistling as he goes.

Comments

[sai_delgado]

She gives him a look that’s teasing and considering both, then smiles and gives him her hand as well.

“Truce,” she agrees.

[the_seafarer]

He pulls her up and sets her on her feet, then grins at her, boyish and delighted, his cheeks pink with the cold and with laughter.

"We ought to go change and get warm again," he says. "You'll enjoy your hot chocolate today, Su, I should say."

[sai_delgado]

“Thee might as well,” she tells him, practically. “Or tea, as thee so often do. Something warm, oh aye.”

She brushes snow from his coat and smiles at him. “Let’s go in?”

[the_seafarer]

He pats some snow from her shoulders and braid and smiles back.

"Let's. Lead the way, Su."

[sai_delgado]

She reaches for her hand, squeezing it with her gloved fingers, and tugs him with her as she starts back toward the bar.

[the_seafarer]

He laces his fingers with hers and strolls at her side, happy in her company and with the snow and the day and their ride, then gallantly opens the bar door for her, the crackling fire and comfortable couch near it waiting for them. The evening is looking to prove as fine as the day had been.