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"Ugh," Messmer complained. "Dreadful." He never liked the cold, and neither did his winged serpents, his constant companions, who recoiled and hid against him, the ambient heat of his skin providing them with at least some comfort. The snow had started late last night; you woke up him to point at it from the windows of your shared chamber, much to his sleepy chagrin.
Today, you have the audacity to drag him out into it.
"Oh, don't be dramatic," you playfully chide. Holding his hand, you pull him into a wide open space outside the keep's reinforced walls. The reluctance on his face is clear, but you can't help but admire the rest of him today. Instead of his typical scale mail and serpentine helm, Messmer has on tall black leather boots, woolen breaches, and a soft crimson sweater, topped with his usual red cloak, though it's bunched up a bit more than usual around his neck for warmth.
Releasing his hand, you skip out into the fresh snow, spinning around with your arms outstretched.
"Gods, this is refreshing!" you laugh, and after a few spins, you look to him. Hands on his hips, he turns, surveying the surrounding area.
"Thy idea of refreshment is unusual," he grumbles.
Something thumps against his shoulder, and he turns to you, brow furrowed. You respond with a devious grin.
"Thou— what was that?" he asks as he cocks his head. You cock your head back, mimicking his own gesture, smile growing, as your hands covertly work at your sides.
"You mean this?" you say, as you chuck another snowball at him, hitting him squarely in the chest. He widens his eyes, incredulous.
"Thou art an insolent—!" he cries, right as another snowball hits him in the head, his ruby hair glittering with powder despite his attempt to dodge it. You tip your head back to laugh. It's so rare to see him like this; you relish the few moments where Messmer seems truly disarmed.
Emboldened by your playfulness, he leans over and starts forming a snowball of his own in his palms, only to find that the snow melts almost immediately in his exceptionally warm hands before he's able to pack it together effectively.
"Thine attack is dishonorable — a duel between two unmatched foes is no duel at all—" another snowball pelts him in the head, and he makes a noise that sends you into an uncontrollable fit of laughter as you fall back on the snow. Taking in the cold, pure scent, you close your eyes and force yourself to be in this moment of silliness with him. A year ago, if someone showed you a glimpse of your life as it is today, you wouldn't believe them.
Sitting up, you open your mouth and try to catch a snowflake with your tongue.
"What art thou doing...?" Messmer asks.
"Catching snowflakes," you reply bluntly.
"I question thy decorum," he answers, sighing deeply, though you can tell from his tone that he's joking.
"Try it!"
His jaw tightens, and he looks to you and rolls his eyes. He loosens his stance and smirks at you — a rare sight from the jaded demigod. It has taken a long time to get here, but your heart warms knowing that he's still able to find some small moments of enjoyment despite his circumstances.
He turns from you, looking back at the keep. You notice him looking up into the sky as the snow falls, flakes getting heavier.
"You're doing it, aren't you? You are!" you laugh. You can't see his face, but you know he was trying to catch a snowflake, too, when he turns back to you, snow dusting his red eyelashes, a rosy blush from the cold spreading across his cheeks. He breaks, smiling genuinely in a way you're not sure you have ever seen from him.
"I know not what thou art speaking of," he replies. You burst into laughter, impressed by his sudden straight face. "Let us go back into the keep, now — I will light a fire and heat tea for us to chase this wretched cold away."
"Fine, fine... let's go." You rise and start walking toward him, narrowing your eyes before grabbing one final snowball and chucking it at him as hard as you can.
"Unbelievable!" he laughs. One of his serpents peeks out of his sweater and hisses at the cold air. "Even they detest thy cruel games." Finally, you prance up to him, intertwining your fingers with his as you walk hand in hand, back to the warm safety of the keep.