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The twinge of pain in his knee told him that snow had started falling while he'd been asleep, but Cullen still opened the front door with a faint hope in his heart of seeing a blue sky above. Instead, a bitterly cold wind chilled him to the bone instantly as he stared at the empty grey sky and watched the seemingly never ending sheet of snowflakes fall.
And he knew what it meant when snow fell from an empty grey sky...
With a sigh, he closed the door and turned around--and quickly discovered that he was being scrutinized by three keen pairs of eyes. Ignoring the others for now, he met the pair of bright grey eyes in the middle, whose owner stood with hands on her hips while she tapped her toes expectantly and looked up at him. "Guess we're not going to the park."
"No," Cullen said with a sigh as he reached up to rub the back of his neck. "At least not for a while. That's mountain snow. It will be here for a few days, if not weeks."
"And Papa?" That question came from the pair of eyes to the right of his daughter, where a dark brown gaze regarded him. "Papa come home tonight?"
Cullen winced and knelt to pull his son into a quick hug. "Probably not, little one," he said softly. "He'll have to wait until the snow is plowed so he can make it here."
His son sniffed and rubbed his nose with his forearm, obviously trying not to cry. "Not fair."
"No, it isn't," Cullen said gently. "Why don't you go lie in front of the fire with Brutus? I'm sure the rug is very warm by now."
At first his son's face brightened, but then it clouded again. "Story?" he asked hopefully.
As Cullen opened his mouth to response, his daughter said, "Yes, a story. Da will tell us a good story." Her grey eyes met his with all the authority he'd ever possessed in his days with the guard. "Won't you?"
Well, he certainly couldn't refuse that. "Go help Brutus and your brother settle into the rug," he said. "I have a call to make." When she narrowed her eyes slightly, he put a slight edge into his voice, a parental authority to counter her own obstinacy. "Please."
She made a disgusted noise, then reached down and grabbed her brother's hand. "Come, Brutus!" she commanded of their husky Mabari, then led the trio to the living room to settle in.
Knowing he didn't have much time before one or both of them would come looking for him, Cullen hurried back to the bedroom to retrieve his cell phone and quickly tapped through to the proper number. His mouth grew drier with each ring on the opposite line, but just as he was about to hang up the call connected. "Hello?"
Relief flooded him. "Cass, it's Cullen."
"I can see your number when you call, you know," Cass reminded him, though he could hear the humor in her voice. "You do know that, right? I know you haven't been here that long, but--"
"Right." Cullen cleared his throat, then continued in a burst of words. "Look, I'm sorry to bother you, but--"
"Yes, yes, I saw the sky," she replied. "I take it you were thinking that would happen next week?"
"Well, it is early, and the kids--" Cullen began, but again Cassandra interrupted him.
"I know. It's too soon, I agree." Cassandra's voice turned gentle. "I'll be over in an hour or two. The roads will be difficult, but I can make it."
Cullen breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Cass," he said softly.
Tucking his phone in his pocket, he moved to the living room, where he was quickly pulled down into a mock fight on the rug in front of the fireplace. After he'd managed to work most of the restless energy and quite a few giggles out of the children, they collapsed on the rug and panted.
Just as he was about to tell one of them to go pick out a book to read, he felt a small hand take his own. "Da," his daughter asked. "How did you meet Papa? You've never told us."
"Yeah," his son piped in. "Papa! Papa!"
Even knowing that the time would come, the question still gave Cullen pause. For a moment his mind flashed back through time, to a drunken kiss and a mouthful of cock, and just as quickly he pulled it back to the present. "It wouldn't really be fair to tell the story without him here, would it?" he asked in a light tone instead.
His daughter made a frustrated noise. "But he won't be home for aaaaages! I want to know now!"
"Now!" her brother echoed.
Cullen groaned and laughed softly. "He's due home any day now, I told you," he said with loving reproach. "I promise you that once he's home, we'll both tell you how it happened."
She brightened immediately. "You promise on the Realm of Dreams?"
"I promise on the Realm of Dreams," he said with a chuckle. "Now, how about a tale of winter?"
"Is that the same one Auntie Mia told us?" his daughter asked. "About the exiled Prince?"
"It might be." Really, Mia? "Well, maybe I can tell you my version, and you can compare the two. You like doing that, right?"
She thought about it for a moment, then giggled. "I do. All right, Da. Tell us the story."
Cullen wrapped his arms around them so that they could comfortably rest on his broad chest and still move comfortably. He noticed that his son was already drifting off a bit, but his daughter showed no signs of drowsiness yet. Maybe soon...
"Once upon a time, many years ago, the Lord of the Sun argued with his heir and cast him forth from the court. For years the exiled Prince wandered the lands, finding fewer and fewer who would aid him. Finally his heart turned bitter and cold, and he disappeared into the depths of a cave so dark that even his father could not find him."
As he spoke, his daughter grew still, and he knew she was hanging on every word. She loved stories, and Cullen knew it was the best way to relax her into slumber. Like Papa, like daughter, Cullen mused. "Auntie Mia said that the King was an evil, evil man," his daughter murmured. "And that he hated the Prince."
"I don't think he hated the Prince," Cullen said. "But I do think he didn't understand the Prince, and that made him foolishly send the Prince away."
She thought about that for a while, then nodded and snuggled in close. "Keep going. What happened after the Prince went into the cave?"
"From that moment, the Sun lost all power over the winter. Year after year, the Sun grew weaker and weaker, and the winter lingered longer and longer, until finally it never left. The snow fell in endless droves, crops couldn't grow, and people shivered even under the thickest of blankets. Desperate, the King put forth the call for the knights of the Realm to seek out the cause of the endless winter, and bade them bring it to an end."
"Auntie Mia said that the King didn't give them a choice, that he forced them to go into the frozen snow," she said quietly. "She said that many of the knights died."
Cullen took a slow breath before he answered, battling a series of emotions so he could sound calm on the other side. They don't have to know the truth so early, Mia. "Your Auntie Mia talks too much," he muttered, smiling softly as his daughter giggled.
"She says you don't talk enough," his daughter told him with a grin. "You don't even text enough." Before Cullen could defend himself, though, she nudged him. "Go on. Did the knights figure it out?"
"The knights roamed the land for days that dragged into weeks, then months," he said. "One day, one of them, a friend of the Prince before he was exiled, was blown by a blizzard into a cave entrance. Once inside, he found nothing but wave after wave of enemies that drove him deeper and deeper into the crevasses of the cave. The light of the sun grew dimmer and dimmer until finally it vanished completely, and despair stole into his heart."
"Auntie Mia talked about those fights a lot more," his daughter noted. "And about the blood and the guts and the--"
A suspicion stole over Cullen. "Was your cousin Max there?"
She hesitated for a moment, then mumbled, "Yeah."
"And he kept asking for more and more details about the fighting, didn't he?" Cullen asked, suspecting what the answer would be.
With a pout, she said, "Yeah. But those stories are fun!"
He rolled his eyes a bit. "Well, I'm not going to tell you that version. My version is more accurate anyway."
"Then tell it to me!" Suddenly she looked guilty and looked at her brother, then repeated in a whisper, "Then tell it to me."
Cullen glanced down at his son, smiling as he saw the thumb resting in his son's mouth as he sucked on it in slow, sleepy motions. It was a sign that he wouldn't be waking for a while--unless, of course, someone woke him up by being loud. "Don't worry, I will," he said. "But let's put him on the couch first."
After some rearrangement, with the son on the couch and Cullen in the easy chair near the fire with his daughter curled up on his lap, he continued, "Once the light of the sun was gone, he began to notice that another light had taken its place. Blue and beautiful, it wasn't the powerful light that ruled the world, but rather a few lights that guided him forward by dancing in the air before him. Slowly the knight did so, curious about where they were leading him."
"Auntie Mia talked about a labyrinth, and riddles, and--"
Cullen finally chuckled. "You could always call her and have her tell it to you again."
Her mouth clapped shut, and they both knew why--calls to Auntie Mia tended to last upwards of an hour, no matter the reason why. Which was why Cullen rarely picked up with Mia called. "I want to hear you tell it," his daughter said brightly. "I won't say anything about Auntie Mia again, promise."
Accepting that with a grin, Cullen let his head fall back as he continued. "It was a fairly straightforward path, down into the depths of a cave where ice lined the walls. They sparkled like diamonds in the glow of the dancing lights, until finally they led him to a column of ice. Within, the knight found the Prince, frozen in a perfect moment but untouchable."
"A sudden rage filled the knight, and without thinking, he swung his sword at the column of ice. The ice around the Prince's head shattered, but the rest remained intact no matter how many times his sword struck the offending barrier between he and his old friend. How long he beat at the ice, he didn't know, but finally his sword shattered into several pieces.
"In despair, he flung himself at the Prince, embracing what he could touch as he wept bitter tears at his friend's predicament. It wasn't until he felt the soft brush of something on his cheek that he pulled back and stared. His friend, blue and chattering, smiled back at him, and the knight saw that his tears had warmed his friends skin enough that his face was clear of the ice."
"'C-cold,' The Prince stammered. 'I'm so cold.'
"Without hesitation, the knight wrapped his cloak around the Prince's iced form, then put his blanket around him as well. It didn't seem to help, though, and slowly the ice started to creep back over the Prince's face. So the knight did the only thing he could think of to keep the Prince warm: he kissed him."
The daughter sighed happily. "So romantic."
He chuckled, but didn't comment on it, knowing it might embarrass her if he did. "When the ice melted, the knight kept kissing him, moving his lips over the Prince as the ice melted. Eventually the ice became so thin that he was able to break the Prince free, and together they fought their way back to the entrance of the cave. The moment the Prince stepped outside the cave, the winter lost its grip on the world, and by the time the knight and the Prince made it back home, spring had arrived."
He glanced down at his daughter, who leaned against his shoulder with eyes closed and a smile on her face. Cullen smiled, then kissed her forehead gently. "The End," he murmured, even though technically it wasn't. Still, it was a place to end the tale, and not a bad one for all that it didn't explain everything.
By the time Cass arrived, the weight of his daughter had put his arm to sleep and he had a desperate need to use the facilities. As Cass took the children to their beds to finish their impromptu naps, Cullen tended to his own needs, though he ended up staring into the mirror for several long moments.
His finger reached up and traced the scar on his lip, remembering all too clearly how it had come to be there. Finally he straightened and nodded, then left the bathroom and headed to the front door. As he opened it, he felt Brutus press in against his leg, and reached down to scratch behind the dog's ears.
"It's time, boy," he said, then passed through the door with Brutus at his side.
His first stop was in the little shed built on the edge of their sprawling back yard which blended with the surrounding woods. From it, he pulled a large, voluminous cloak to place around his broad shoulders. Tugging the hood into place, he next grabbed a large collar and whistled for Brutus. The dog accepted the collar well enough, recognizing it for what it was, and wagged his stubby little tail in excitement as he followed Cullen out of the shed and into the forest.
Together they advanced into the snow, each step taking them farther and farther away from the familiarity of Cullen's home. The snow never quit falling, but Cullen persevered, finding his way between drifts and hidden depths with the aid of Brutus' impressive nose. It wasn't until they reached a large, imposing gate made of stone that he finally sighed and nodded.
"All right, boy," he said softly. "Let's do this."
Through the gate they stepped, man and dog, emerging on the other side as their true selves. Cullen blinked and rubbed the long arch of Brutus neck as he stared out into the snowy landscape, noting that the snowfall was even worse than on the other side of the gate. With a shake of his head, he pulled himself up into Brutus' saddle and urged the horse forward with a cluck of his tongue.
As they rode, he reached down to tug a helmet from the saddlebag and place it on his head, careful to keep the cold metal away from his long, pointed ears. Once that was in place, he let Brutus move along the path until they came to another shed, this one a much more rustic design than Cullen had built in his backyard on the other side of the gate. When Cullen emerged from this gate, he wore a full set of armor that was worn and well-kept, and a shield hung from his arm which he transferred to Brutus before remounting.
Through the snow they rode while all the moments of time glittered and passed over them without consequence. On occasion they would pass a still form in the snow, often with their hand reaching up towards the sky as if to catch something--a snowflake, perhaps. Once in a while, the posture of the statues revealed that they had been interrupted--sometimes quite spectacularly so. Cullen smiled and shook his head as he passed one such couple locked in the throes of naked passion against the trunk of a tree near the road. Even Brutus nickered in amusement and tossed his head, but they didn't stop--not to observe, nor to cover their nakedness.
They had a task before them, after all.
The path to the cave was long and difficult, but at least it wasn't plagued by night or a cutting, cold wind like it had been the first time. Instead, the snow just kept falling and the empty grey sky above maintained the same grey ambient light through out. Neither Cullen nor Brutus felt hunger or thirst or cold, but instead kept pressing their way forward until the hill they sought loomed ahead of them.
Only when they reached the entrance to the cave did Cullen dismount, grabbing the shield from the saddle as he did so. After that, he tucked Brutus' reins into his halter and patted the horse's nose fondly. "See you soon, boy," he murmured, hoping that it would be as true now as before.
Deep down, though, he knew that maybe this was the time he wouldn't make it.
Turning from Brutus, he pushed into the cave, each step drawing farther and farther away from the dim grey light pouring in from outside. His shield was held at the ready, and his other hand was all too aware of the fact that it held nothing in its grasp. This was the beginning of the true Trial, the one which had killed so many others before he'd made his way here all those ages ago...
Pushing the thought from his mind, he strode forward, closing his eyes and bringing his shield up in protection only as the last light of the dull grey sky outside faded entirely.
The first blow nearly knocked him off his feet, and he took a moment to set himself before taking the next step. With each step, another blow would land on his shield, each with their own weight of cold or pain or despair or fear. His mind rocked with each flurry as well, warning him of his pride at returning once more. With each step, the desire to turn back or open his eyes grew and grew, but he resisted it, as he'd resisted so much over the years, and clung to the bulwark of his obstinacy to fight against the demons which plagued him. After all, he'd learned that the true Trial was not to fight back, but to endure, and he refused to fail now.
It seemed to last an eternity, as it always did, and when he was finally able to take a step without something striking his shield, that step turned into a near collapse as he almost pitched forward onto the ground. Still, it was a welcome respite, and he finally allowed his eyes to open. A smile came to his face as he saw the dancing blue lights once more, and he let loose a sigh of relief. Quickly he set his feet to follow them as they danced away, not wishing to lose sight of them in the dim of the cave.
Again he walked for what seemed an eternity, following the lights no matter which path they took. That path was not easy, nor was it meant to be. It led over narrow beams and glowing red lava and cracked, broken ground. Sometimes he had to simply take a leap of faith when they dropped down, and several times he teetered on the brink of bottomless pits before he regained his balance and moved forward. But here, the Trial was simply trust, and the moment he lost his trust in the light to lead him, he would fail and join the skeletons of those who had experienced a lapse in their own faith.
But his faith was strong. It always had been. So he persevered.
Finally they arrived at the ice column, and his heart tightened in his chest. There it was, Dorian's perfect face, trapped in ice as it was every year. The lights danced around the column of ice, as if making sure that Cullen saw it. Wordlessly, Cullen held out his right hand--his empty hand--and the lights swarmed to it. As he closed his fist around them, he felt their heat and their animosity, but endured as the heat intensified. Soon the lights shifted and extended themselves outward, until he held a sword of gleaming light in his hand. Dropping the shield, he took the hilt of the ephemeral sword in his hands and ran at the crystal column with a yell, swinging it with all his might.
Time melted away as he hacked and slashed at the ice, calling Dorian's name. Somehow, this year, it seemed to take even longer than it had before, and each swing of the sword weighed more heavily on his muscles than the one before. The heat of the light he held grew with each swipe, until blisters formed and split and bled, but he didn't give up. The Trial of Pain held not even an ounce of mercy, but Cullen well knew that some pain could be endured--as long as it was worth the cost.
Finally the ice cracked and shattered, loosing Dorian from its grasp. The sword burst into separate motes of light once more, and Cullen dropped to his knees to pull Dorian close. Quickly he tugged his cloak from his shoulders and wrapped Dorian in the warmth of its wool, then buried his face in crook of the man's shoulder for a moment as he heaved a sob of relief.
After that, it was a matter of time. Time, and patient kisses. The lights, docile now that Dorian was free, settled around Cullen's hands in penitence and healed them, allowing Cullen to wipe away the traces of melting ice from Dorian's face so that Cullen could finally claim a long, fervent kiss.
After a moment, he felt Dorian's breathing shift, and he pulled back to find Dorian's eyelids fluttering. Only then did the tears form in his own eyes, and he reached up to stroke Dorian's cheek as those magnificent grey eyes once more emerged from behind their prison.
Amatus.
Dorian's voice didn't quite work yet, but Cullen read the word on his lips anyway. Quickly he bent down and claimed another kiss, letting each kiss lengthen and deepen until the initial burst of need had passed. Only then did Cullen help Dorian rise to his feet, walking hand in hand with him as they strode from the cave.
As they rode back to the gate, with Dorian's arms wrapped tightly around his waist, Cullen felt the tingle of time settle like a faint mist onto the world once more. The snow had stopped falling from the sky, which was now an empty bright blue, and the snow was already melting away. They didn't stop to enjoy it, or each other, however. Their time was short, and they could always celebrate being together again after.
There was no real conversation as they rode to the shed where Cullen would remove his armor, but they rarely did. Dorian's voice always took longer than the rest of him to wake up, and the ordeal of recovering from being frozen always left him tired and drained. Instead, Cullen spoke softly of their children, of their escapades and the changes they had undergone in the time Papa had been gone for 'work'.
As usual, he ignored the tears that fell from Dorian's eyes, knowing that this was the time for Dorian to mourn what he had lost, both of time with his children and with his love. Still, they would all be together again soon, and they could be a family once more.
"She finally asked about how we met," Cullen murmured at one point, a statement which made Dorian groan in anticipation. "I told her that we'll both have to be present to tell her so... be ready for that."
"Thank you ever so much," Dorian croaked. "That is certainly something to anticipate. Should we start with the story of how you were sent to collect my drunken ass from the tavern, or with the dramatic rescue from the bar brawl I started?"
"I'm really not looking forward to the questions they'll ask about that," Cullen said ruefully.
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, we could skip straight to the raw sex," Dorian teased him. "I'm sure that would be very educational for them."
Cullen groaned. "We really should have come up with something banal to tell them by now. We knew they'd ask sooner or later."
Nuzzling Cullen's neck, Dorian murmured, "So we won't tell them about how you threw me onto my desk and--"
"Yes, yes, we won't tell them," Cullen said hastily as he pulled Brutus to a halt. "There's the hut. I won't take long to change, I promise." Leaving a smirking Dorian in the saddle, Cullen quickly retreated and changed back into his normal clothes, leaving everything behind in the hut for the next year.
From there, the ride to the gate was swift, but tense--they knew what to expect, after all. It started when something--a movement out of the corner of his eye, or perhaps just pure instinct--sounded an alarm in Cullen's head, and he quickly grabbed Dorian's hands and pulled him down. As the arrow whistled past them, Brutus automatically launched himself forward, leaving Cullen fighting to bring Dorian and himself back into a good seat for a full gallop.
He had to trust Brutus' instincts in the flight that followed, grateful that he'd hung the shield within easy reach so he could hold it to deflect some of the arrows flying towards them. one or two thudded into Brutus' saddle, and he felt a sting on one of his own legs, but Brutus was a canny beast, ducking and weaving between the trees as they raced towards the gate and their exit from the land.
When they came in sight of the gate, Brutus flattened into an all out gallop. The arrows were fewer by now, thankfully, but Cullen knew they could not yet relax their vigil. When they plunged through the gate, all three of them ended up in a tumbled bundle of human and dog limbs. The arrows, as usual, didn't make it, but the wounds did, and required attention.
Still, they were now safe on the other side of the gate, and would remain so until the Realm called Dorian once more.
It was Dorian who rose to his feet first, rising into a large stretch. "Ah, delightful. That extra little tingle of escaping death is always such an invigorating introduction back into the mortal world." With a smile, he turned and held out his hand to Cullen. "Let's go home, shall we?"
Cullen smiled and took the offered hand. "That sounds perfect."
The End