Work Text:
Inga thought of the mountains as something of an oasis, with no one nearby, nobody asking questions or expecting anything of her or Henry. They could see for miles from their outlook, and the air was fresh and the grass was soft. What they called their cabin was, perhaps, better described as a very large cottage, and they made no pretense of doing most of the work themselves or living off the land, as some people might have in their position. It might have been nice to pretend her little flower garden in the front was actually growing food for the whole family, and that the meals they ate were their own and not the cook who came in from the nearby village.
Henry reminded her, the point of being here wasn’t to achieve some impossible vision of being ideal peasants, the point was simply trying to exist together, as a family, like they never had time to do, while they still could. Duty would eventually catch up with them, even if nothing else did.
Inga only wished the weather could be better in the winter. They couldn’t stay here in the winter, and even the people in the villages barely survived when it was a particularly hard winter.
Perhaps this could be the winter that she and Henry could travel south, to somewhere warm. They still hadn’t done that.