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When it’s cold outside, there is a few things that can fix that. A blanket might help, firing the oven, making sure all windows (and doors) are closed. Putting on warmer clothes.
Kurt Byman is in his bed and has tried all of those things. It is winter. Snow had been covering all roofs in Gambämark for months now. White glittering, beautiful but dangerous. A hard time, like every winter, where Kurt has to prove to his people, that they are living in the superior way. That this pain is worth enduring. Kurt genuinely believes that he is right.
He has given his fire wood away to the mother who had just born twins. He has send his son there too, in the warm space. But Kurt is staying here. So if someone needs him, they can find him immediately in the leaders house.
This is why he is here. The elected leader. To submit to his people. To provide security. He can’t let Josua suffer with him. For now Josua is too young. He will become a great leader, once he is a little older, but Kurt can’t let a child sleep in a cold winter like that. It’s good for Josua to learn how to care for a family. Children are raised by the village and Kurt can’t provide Josua with a mother. Or even another parent… Josua can get water and get his sleep disrupted. As long as he is warm and save. It will be good for him.
Kurt turns to his side, looks outside the window.
Gambämark is really beautiful like that. It fills Kurt with a bit of inner warmth. Though every snowflake, Kurt sees is a harsh reminder, that his life won’t ever be as easy, as back when he liked the snow.
And he had loved the snow. Kurt had always been the first child outside, with a big smile, gloves and a scarf, to build a snowman. He had jumped and found it beautiful. He and his friend…
Now that was over. Now Kurt had to be an adult. And as an adult he only respected the snow the way his ancestors had. It brought opportunity and danger.
But everyone was safe now.
Everyone except for him.
He had chosen this life for himself. The dark night without any of the artificial light, that took over the naturally glooming part of your soul. None of the heating to replace the body that was a warm and cosy family.
Only the raw fire.
Only Kurt, who began to fear that his soul wasn’t glooming anymore, ever since he stopped appreciating the snow. He didn’t want to be honest with himself. He just needed to think of the village, of his people. Not himself.
And not of him either.
He had been something, someone, distracting Kurt from his real goal. The devil, unnatural. Kurt could deal with laying alone in bed as long as he knew his son and the village to be safe.
The moon was visible. The stars were because Gambämark didn’t have anything to block the light. Snow glinted, Kurt blinked.
If only he had him for one more night. If Kurt could be himself for one more night, pressed against Gunnar’s side, the way they used to when they were young. His face buried in Gunnar’s collarbone, soaking in his scent. That was so natural.
But it hadn’t been.
Kurt had had to give him up, for the greater good.
What they had shared, hadn’t been natural.
Yet it was moments like this, that Kurt wished his family was complete. That he hadn’t left. It scared him how quickly he would exchange Josua’s existence to have gone the path with Gunnar instead.
But that had been before Gambämark was the way it was now, while Kurt had also been influenced by the outside. It layed in the past.
Not the good kind. The period between the good past and now. It was bad.
Kurt had to remind himself, it was bad.
Even after everything, Gunnar had still chosen to stay here.
Maybe he was waiting.
Kurt closed his eyes, forbid himself the thoughts, those moments of weakness and the shadows of Gunnar’s warm arms on his body. He pulled his blanket to his chin.
No amounts of blankets could fix a freezing heart.