#Frostriel | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

marilynsweet · 3 years

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WITCH AU: Red

Part 2/3,the first part is “The Witch’s House.”

General warning for PG-13 esque stuff, I don’t wanna spoil too much;;

The gentle glow of the sunrise glimmered through the curtains. The window, closed, kept out the freezing air. The icy chill of late autumn had begun to set in, though there was warmth in the room. Scents of fresh greenery permeated the air.

Asriel’s eyes opened, finding himself staring up at the ceiling. His arms rested above his head.

After taking a few moments to stir himself from slumber, he sat up, rubbing his eyes.

He’d been here for about two months. The lack of such a busy lifestyle had made this place seem like paradise; he’d grown used to the quiet chirping of the birds in the woods, the sound of wind rustling through the tree’s branches, and the sounds of the goats and chickens outside each morning. His injuries had healed to the point where the only thing that irritated them was sudden quick movement. Frostbite trusted him on his own, now, to not hurt himself trying to do too much.

After a quick change of clothes, Asriel made his way out of his room and into the kitchen. The wood stove contained the soft embers of the previous night’s fire. Though it was still warm, a chill had spread through the house. Asriel took it upon himself to add another log and some twigs to reignite it.

His attention was grabbed by the sound of a THWACK! outside. Curious, Asriel took his boots from the mat by the door, laced them, and headed outside.

His breath fogged before him, and icy frost decorated the outside world in white crystals. The grass crunched beneath his feet, and sunlight sparkled through the few remaining leaves upon the trees. Two black goats trotted across the yard, along with a small flock of chickens. The thwack interrupted the air again, and Asriel followed the sound around to the side of the house.

There, he found Frostbite. She had laid her cloak across a stack of cut logs, and her arms had slipped out of her wide-necked shirt, the sleeves tied neatly behind her to keep it in place. In her hands, she held a woodcutter’s axe, and she stood in front of a pile of uncut logs. She had taken one log, and placed it upon the trunk of a long-dead tree.

He noticed black markings and symbols decorating her arms. Her arms themselves were toned by years of hard work and turmoil. She swung the axe, Asriel noticing the outline of her muscles in the movement, and slicing the log before her in two with another thwack!

He shook himself out of his staring, suddenly aware of the heat in his face. He took a deep breath, turning away from the scene to watch the goats, trying to purge the pink in his cheeks.

“You still can’t sneak as well as you think you can!”

Asriel perked, turning back to the scene to see Frostbite facing him, running a hand through her hair. Her breath fogged up quickly, sending clouds into the frosty air as she caught her breath. She swung the axe into the trunk, where she let it rest.

“Just came to see what you were doing!” Asriel replied, watching her retrieve her cloak and untie her sleeves. She slipped her arms into them, and then clipped her cloak back around her shoulders.

“Yeah? Wanna help me feed the goats?” Frostbite asked when she approached, offering him a smile. Her cheeks were flushed from her previous efforts, and she again ran a hand through her hair.

“Sure!”

She walked across the yard towards a small shed. Asriel had helped her build it about a month ago, to store the animals’ feed somewhere other than her bedroom. Following, Asriel watched her drag out a heavy canvas bag, pulling it open.

“Need help?” He asked, and she shook her head.

“I got it,” she replied, heaving it into her arms to get a better grip on it. “I’ll carry, you dispense.”

They made their way over to the wooden trough, worn through years of usage. There, Asriel helped Frostbite lay out a batch of alfalfa, and the two goats came trotting over.

“I’ll have to get more of that,” she murmured, closing up the bag. “They seem to love it.”

They returned the bag to the shed. Their footsteps left prints in the frost, and the sun was beginning to rise further against the tall trees. Beautiful reds and oranges and pinks decorated the sky, along with shadowed clouds.

“I fed the chickens earlier,” Frostbite stated, tossing her hair to move it back in place over her right eye. Her hair was smooth, shining in the gentle morning light. Her amber eyes glowed with that same shimmer. She took the heavy board hanging on the shed and swung it forward over the door to keep it shut tightly.

Asriel shook himself again, blinking as if awakened from a trance.

“You alright? You keep spacing out,” Frostbite asked, though she walked back towards the house. She motioned towards it with her head, indicating he should follow.

“Yeah— Yeah! I’m alright, I… I think I had a weird dream last night. I just… don’t remember anything about it,” Asriel replied, walking after her. “I think it threw me off.”

The kitchen had been warmed in their absence as the log caught fire in the stove. The chilled air was left behind when the front door closed.

“How long have you been awake?” Asriel asked as Frostbite sunk into one of the chairs at the table, stretching her arms above her head. She seemed tired.

“A few hours,” she murmured with a yawn. “That wood wasn’t going to cut itself, it has to be done before the snow comes.”

“I could’ve helped—!”

“No. I want to be sure your neck isn’t going to act up again before I let you exhort that much energy,” Frostbite replied quickly, before he could retort. “I’m not taking the risk of you hurting yourself again.”

Asriel couldn’t think of a retort to that.

“I’m going to gather eggs for breakfast in a bit, then I’ll make something. Bread should still be fresh.”

“I can make breakfast, if you need a break! I know how to make eggs!” Asriel replied, perked and eager to help.

A small smile crossed her face as she leaned back into her chair, running a hand through her hair. She took a deep breath before letting it out.

“Fine,” she murmured, sitting back up to look over at him. “But don’t hurt yourself!”

“I won’t!” Asriel replied, and before she could get up or retort, he had already headed outside.

When Asriel returned, Frostbite wasn’t at the table.

“Frostbite?” He called out, setting the eggs into the designated basket on the wooden counter.

No reply, but he could smell the faint whiff of a freshly lit candle.

Curiosity sparked in him as he looked over to the stairs. In his time here, he had never been upstairs. Frostbite had moved her things from his room to hers once she had made room for them, but he hadn’t been able to help because of his injury. Now, he was curious.

Tentatively, he took hold of the railing and began to climb the stairs.

When he reached the top, he was taken aback by the room. Two walls were entirely covered by bookshelves, upon which rested more than books. Crystals, jars, plants, and small chests. A bed lay on top of a rug on the wooden floor, above which was hung a wooden ring, decorated with feathers and strung with pink blossoms he hadn’t seen anywhere in the village. Above that, a hand-carved moon cycle was hung in an arch. Candles were placed upon the bedside tables, as well as on empty shelves. To his left, a wardrobe was pushed against the wall, in a hollowed out area of the shelved wall. Plants hung in hangers around the ceiling, in strange balls with what looked to be small trees and ivies sprouting from them. To the right, Asriel found Frostbite.

She was sitting on a cushion next to a low table. The table was set against the wall, with an open ornate box sitting upon it. There was a statue of a woman holding a staff, a closed book, a wooden cup, a variety of crystals set into an arch, and a rainbow of colored candles upon the table. Asriel noticed that only the red and pink ones were lit.

Frostbite sat cross-legged, with her hands in her lap. Upon approaching, Asriel noticed her eyes were closed.

“You should really knock before entering someone’s room,” she said without moving. “I could hear you.”

“What are you..?”

“Meditating,” Frostbite replied, again not moving. “I’ll be down soon.”

Asriel chose not to comment, only staying for a few more moments before heading back downstairs.

The room was quiet, but Asriel quickly set to work preparing breakfast. About halfway through, he heard the padding of footsteps on wood.

“Surprised you went to find me,” Frostbite said, and Asriel heard her moving a chair.

“I could smell the candles — wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“...I assure you, I can handle myself, don’t worry,” she replied, and Asriel could almost sense the smile on her face. “Breakfast smells wonderful.”

“I picked up on a few things from my mother,” Asriel replied, taking two plates from the cabinet. “She taught me how to cook.”

“Impressed, I am. Not many seem to know how, aside from the women in the village.”

“Eh, mother thought I should know, and I enjoyed it.”

Asriel was done quickly - eggs didn’t take too long to cook, nor did slicing bread - and returned to the table. He set a plate before Frostbite, and then himself, before sitting across from her at the table.

“How’s your neck?” Frostbite asked, watching him eat for a few moments.

“It’s fine, better than it was. It only hurts now if I do something like jerk it to the side too quickly.”

She nodded, before divulging in her own food. Asriel took notice of how her ears pricked at the first bite.

“You did very good,” she said, causing a smile to cross Asriel’s face and pink to flush his cheeks.

“Thank you! It’s, ah… it’s been a while,” he said a bit sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I might just keep you around!” Frostbite said with a small giggle, and Asriel perked upon hearing her laughter.

“I’d hope so! I do like it here!” He said, returning to his own food. “I figure I should at least try to do something.”

“You can help me bring water back to the house and stack the logs, how’s that sound, hm?” Frostbite said, shooting him a smile. “You can do that.”

“Of course! But you need to finish eating! Gives energy for hard work.”

Frostbite rolled her eyes, snorting.

“I wouldn’t let such a good meal go to waste,” she joked with a small smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll finish it.”

The rest of the day was busy. Asriel helped Frostbite with the wood, with her cutting the logs and him stacking them up against the side of the house in a way that would keep them the driest. Asriel was in awe of her strength and efficiency, and more than once Frostbite had to remind him that the logs wouldn’t stack themselves. By the time the afternoon came, the final log had been split, and they had a sizable stack against the house.

After the wood, Frostbite took him into the forest, along a well-beaten path she had traveled many times. She carried with her two sturdy buckets, as well as some jars. From the house, she led him deep into the woods, where Asriel was able to take in the fresh breezes and chirping of the birds. Clouds drifted across the bright blue sky, visible through the branches above. Winter was coming - the clouds were gathered in larger and larger clumps.

Deep in the woods, they stopped at a creek. The water was clear and fresh. Occasionally, a fish would swim by. The pebbles were visible in the bottom, along with tall grasses along the banks and stepping stones that peeked out of the water. Frostbite took the buckets and walked out onto the stepping stones, again leaving her cloak behind, draped over a dry rock on the bank. She rolled up her sleeves, crouched upon the rock whilst balancing on her toes, and dunked the bucket under the water. Asriel assumed that to be the deepest part of the creek.

She did this with both buckets, Asriel helping by filling up the jars. Their breath fogged in the chilled air, the cold nipping at their wet hands and making them shiver. After filling their containers, they made the hike back to the house. Frostbite carried the buckets, Asriel asking many times if she needed help, to which she simply shook her head.

At the house, Frostbite dumped the water into an airtight barrel, kept in a cabinet under the stairs, so well-hidden Asriel hadn’t known it was there until she had first shown it to him. Many hikes and many hours later, they eventually had filled four barrels, stashed safely in the cubby.

Night seemed to come quickly with the hard work of the day, the darkness spreading over the woods. An occasional star would dot the sky through the gathering clouds, and the cold sunk deeper into the air.

After a hot meal and a change of clothes, Asriel sat on the floor next to Frostbite’s bed. Frostbite had lit her red candles again, though he didn’t ask why. A few rose petals lie upon her table by the wall.

She had a hand on either side of his head, gently tilting it either way to gauge the healing process. The rope burns had long scarred over, but the internals had taken much longer to heal.

“This doesn’t hurt, does it?” She asked softly, and Asriel shook his head.

“Feels better and better every day,” he said, feeling her lean his head back.

“You’ve got a leaf,” she murmured, and he felt her pick something from his hair.

“Thanks.”

Frostbite didn’t reply, though she did shift her hands to his neck, and her touch was soft. One of her hands was roughened by age-old burn scars, and the other soft and smooth. He guessed that was because of the glove she wore to protect it.

There was a mild discomfort when she pressed against the back of his neck to feel the bone, but nothing he couldn’t bear.

“You’ve healed well,” he heard her murmur, though her hands let go of him after a few moments.

“That’s good to hear — means I’m not going to be unable to do anything forever!” Asriel said with a soft chuckle, lifting his head to look up at Frostbite. His head was about level with her knees, from where she sat cross-legged on the bed.

He noticed her shifting her hands in her lap,

“Frostbite?”

She wasn’t looking at him, seeming deep in thought. He didn’t like the look of reluctance on her face.

Before he could ask again, she slid off the bed and walked over to her table by the wall. Confused, Asriel stood up, following after her.

“Hey— Frostbite, what’s wrong?”

She didn’t answer, taking one of the rose petals in her palms.

“...You’re going to want to leave,” she murmured after a long silence. “You’re going to want to go back. You’ve healed - why stay?”

Asriel felt his heart sink at the heartbreak in her voice.

He hadn’t considered that. Yes, he had missed home, but he hadn’t been thinking of the day that he’d leave. Maybe every now and then, he’d consider it, but the thought never came to him that it would come to pass.

He felt a tug on his heartstrings. Frostbite was refusing to look at him, running a thumb along the delicate rose petal in her hand.

“...I won’t make you stay,” she muttered. “I’m not going to keep you hostage, force you to live here. I know your beliefs conflict with mine. I know you have family elsewhere. I know you miss home. I just…”

Asriel noticed her hands shaking as she tightened her grip upon the petal, crushing it in her palm. He was lost for words. What could he say that wouldn’t make it worse? However, it was the next words that took his breath from his chest.

“...I love you.”

His cheeks flushed with heat. Before he knew it, she had grabbed the front of his shirt, pulled him down, and kissed him.

Asriel was taken aback. Unable to think, to move, for a long moment. His eyes were wide, and he felt stiff all over, frozen in shock. However, he didn’t push her off of him.

She was soft and gentle, the grip on his shirt loosening.

Frostbite let go of him after a long while, slowly, almost seeming shocked by her actions. Silence fell, once more, broken only by the chirping of crickets outside and the hooting of owls in the distance. The moonlight shimmered through the curtains, illuminating the room in a soft glow.

There was a fluttering in his chest he hadn’t felt before. Butterflies filled his stomach in a swarm. He raised a hand, and touched his lips.

Had that just happened?

Frostbite stood in silence, not looking at him, but at a spot past him, seeming to consider her next words very carefully. She bit her lip, trying to find the words.

After a few moments, she began to speak.

“...I’m sor—“

However, before she could finish, Asriel had taken her face in his hands and returned her kiss. Though the butterflies swarmed, though his heart raced, his mind told him one thing, and one thing only:

I love you, too.

Though his eyes closed, he could feel her run her hands along his shoulders, pulling him closer. One of her hands trailed into the hair on the back of his head, the other moving to wrap her arm around his neck.

Though he had to let go of her face to do so, his hands moved to her waist, holding her close as the kiss broke apart. He instead moved to press slow kisses against her cheek, then jaw, neck, collarbone, and then exposed shoulder. She leaned her head back, giving him more room. Every new kiss against her skin prompted her to grip him tighter, hold him closer.

I need you.

Her touch was gentle against him. In turn, her skin was soft against his hands. Burn scars be damned, the feel of soft flesh wasn’t only foreign to him, but it was addictive. He hadn’t felt anything like it. A lover’s caress, a kiss, holding and being held. The way she held him tight, the way her hands traveled across him, the way they seemed to just… fit together. The way her hands ran through his hair, holding him closer, longing for his touch, his kiss. The shivers down her spine when he buried himself into her neck, the feeling of his touch, the need for him.

It was intoxicating. They needed more.

The night had never felt so long, but not empty. Far from it. In the heat of the moment, in the desire, the need, they didn’t want it to end.

However, it did.

In the dead of night, when silence fell and the night grew cold, sleep came quick from exhaustion. The bed felt unusually comfortable, the blankets warmer than normal, the pillows softer.

The room fell into silence, the red candles on the table finally flickering out.

Frostbite woke that morning to the sun’s beams peering through the curtains. Birds outside sang their familiar melody, and it took her a few moments to register the morning.

Though, from her position, she didn’t want to get up just yet. It was warm… warm and comfortable. She trailed a hand behind her, feeling the sheets.

“Asriel?” She murmured, rubbing her eyes and turning over.

He wasn’t there.

She shrugged, yawning and stretching in her bed. He’d probably woken early.

It took her a long time to get out of her comfortable bed, though upon doing so, she wished she hadn’t. The air was icy and cold, especially against bare skin.

Odd… He would have thrown a log into the stove. Did he forget?

She picked up her clothes off the floor, with a wince, before walking over to her wardrobe. Everything felt sore from the previous day. It hurt to lift her arms, and her calves hurt from the trekking to the creek.

She pulled open the doors, tossing the previous night’s clothes into a hand-woven basket at the bottom. In the back of the wardrobe, a tall mirror hung, allowing her to take in her reflection.

Her neck and shoulders were covered in small bruises, and her hair was a tousled mess. She tidied it with her hand, tucking strands back into place and combing through it with her fingers. She then quickly dressed herself, hurried by the cold air nipping at her skin.

“Asriel?” She called out again, a bit louder this time, making her way down the stairs after closing up her wardrobe. On the way down, she clipped her cloak around her shoulders.

Upon reaching the kitchen, she noticed that the stove was cold and ashy, no embers glowing inside. The front door was slightly ajar, and Asriel’s room remained silent.

Eyebrows creased, she walked over to the door and shut it. Something was wrong.

Had he gone to the creek, perhaps, and forgotten to start the fire? Why would he leave the door open?

Looking around the room for clues prompted her to spot a torn sheet of paper on the table. She approached the table and took the scrap into her hands.

Her heart sank into her stomach.

Upon reading its contents, tears began to quickly flow from her eyes and down her cheeks. Her hands began to shake, then the rest of her, and it wasn’t from the cold. Her grip tightened on the paper, threatening to tear it.

On the paper, written in hasty, messy handwriting, was one sentence:

God forgive me, for I have sinned.

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