Chapter 165: Warm silence |
[Aster]
Warmth. The moment the heavy wooden door thudded shut, warmth washed over the three of them like a wave. Even Aster, still having some mana burning in him, felt his skin cover with goosebumps and prickle in the most pleasant of ways, felt the blood in his cheeks rush to his nose, making it twitch.
The fire in the fireplace—a small stone thing tucked away in the corner of the room—crackled and popped, painting the room in its warm, golden glow, as well as their flushed faces. Nivalis and Silvia both let out soft, breathy moans at the feeling, just how good it was.
Again, what greeted them was nothing as Aster had imagined an inn to be. No long bar in sight, no rows of tables, just one small, shy-looking one with a few mismatched chairs scattered around it. Aster's eyes traced the rough-hewn planks of the floor, worn smooth and shiny from years of footsteps, then moved to the walls.
They were the same weathered logs as the outside, but here, inside, they were covered with furs of various animals, tools whose purposes he couldn't guess, shelves full of clay pots and jars, and bundles upon bundles of dried herbs hanging from hooks and nails. It all looked cozy and lived-in, just a regular home rather than an inn.
Adeline walked past them and towards the fireplace, stirring the coals with an iron poker before tossing another log onto the fire, sending a shower of sparks up the chimney. "If that old oaf hasn't already told you, I'm Adeline," she said as she put the iron aside before motioning for them to come closer. "Don't be shy now. Take off your boots and warm yourself by the fire while I get you some warm water to wash up." Clapping her hands a few times, she added, "Chop, chop."
The three of them flinched a bit at that, but after a quick exchange of glances, they did as told, kicking off their boots and arranging them neatly by the door. "He told us," Nivalis answered quietly as she took off the coat that Tomas had given her, folding it neatly before placing it on a small stool next to the door. "Thank you for having us. That's very kind of you and your husband," she muttered as they shuffled cutely on those knitted socks of theirs over to the fire, then plopped down on the soft fur rug right in front of it.
Adeline waved away her thanks with a dismissive gesture, much like her husband had done earlier. "It's nothing, dear. We've all had our share of tough times," she said, her hands already busy with the strings of her apron.
Three girls in their pretty dresses, bunched up around their skinny knees as they warmed themselves by the fire, their silver hair shining in the orange glow. She gave them a fleeting glance before disappearing through a small, curtained doorway in the back, the fabric swaying gently behind her as she went. "Do people where you're from have names?" came her muffled voice from the other room, followed by the faint clinking of metal.
Nivalis grimaced slightly at that, then quickly smoothed her expression as the woman returned to the room, carrying a pot heavy with water, her soft hands struggling with the weight. "Don't get up," Adeline said when she noticed Nivalis about to do just that. "I've got it." She then placed the pot right beside the fire on a hook, the groan of metal echoing in the quiet room as she did so.
Before she could repeat her question, Nivalis finally answered, "I'm Nivalis. This is Silvia and Asteria," she said, gesturing to her children with a small smile.
Nodding along, Adeline's lips turned up slightly at the corners. "Beautiful. Both of you," she said, her gaze lingering on the two girls for a heartbeat. "You're from further North? I've heard people there have hair like yours," she then asked as she turned away to busy herself with a cupboard on the wall, pulling out two towels and a small, cracked bar of soap.
"West," Nivalis corrected her, then corrected herself. "West-northwest, I guess? It's... hard to tell after so long," she mumbled, reaching over to take the towel and soap from the kind woman before her, her hands still trembling from the cold. She carefully set them aside for later and went back to warming her fingers by the fire. "From behind the... Hollow Forests? Your husband called them that, I think."
The woman raised an eyebrow at that, but before she could say anything, the back door of the inn creaked open, letting in a gust of cold air and a small cloud of snowflakes. Tomas stomped into the room, shaking the snow from his boots before closing the door behind him. "Dear gods, it's cold out there," he grumbled under his breath as he took off his shoes, his nose all red like a reindeer's.
"I have put water on the flames for you as well. Should be enough for everyone," Adeline said to the shivering man by the door, gesturing towards the pot on the fire, her brown eyes briefly meeting his. Then she turned her attention back to Nivalis and her girls. "Help him take the pot off the flames when it's ready, will you, girls? He keeps forgetting he's not twenty anymore," she whispered with a small smile, then rushed away to the kitchen, the curtain swaying behind her again.
"Meh. I already washed up in the barrel outside. Don't need any of that," the old man said, waving away her offer with a hand as he limped towards the table, one hand on his lower back. He took one of the chairs from there, dragged it over to the fireplace, and let out a long, tired sigh as he sat down. "But you girls should. Don't want you catching a cold on my watch," he added, nodding towards the pot that was yet to start shimmering.
An annoyed groan came from the kitchen, followed by the sound of chopping. "You mean the barrel horse and goats drink from?" Adeline's muffled shout made it through the curtain.
Aster grimaced at that, with Nivalis and Silvia doing the same, all three giving the man a look. "What? It's clean water!" Tomas defended himself, scratching the back of his grey head, then calmly added, "And even if it wasn't, the hay I dried myself with afterward did the rest. That stuff's better than the alchemy you call soap."
Another annoyed groan from the kitchen followed, this one a bit louder than the last. Chuckles rippled through the room, starting with Nivalis, then Tomas, and eventually even Aster and Silvia, though theirs were much softer.
Nivalis shook her head, a genuine, tired smile blooming on her face as she watched the old man. "This is nice," she murmured under her breath, so quiet it was almost lost in the crackle of the fire. Tomas didn't say anything and just smiled back, his pale eyes crinkling at the corners. He leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs towards the fire, a contented sigh escaping him.
Silence settled over them soon after, a silence that was neither awkward nor uncomfortable. The fire crackled, the wind howled outside, and the occasional clang of a pot from the kitchen broke the quiet. Other than Aster adjusting his skirt every few seconds, everything was just... perfect. The little family of three sat on the fur rug, staring into the flames, trying their hardest to get used to the strangeness of being inside the house, of being safe. Something they had only dreamed of was now happening.
For more than ten minutes, they did just that, up until the water finally began to shimmer and the pot to hum. "Alright, girls, off it goes," Tomas announced, pushing himself up from the chair with a pained groan. "Addie will be hollering if she doesn't get her fire back. Can't really cook a porridge without it," he explained, taking the pot off the hook with a piece of cloth, grunting as he carried it away from the fire and towards the kitchen. Nivalis scrambled up from the rug as well and tried to help, but he shushed her away, "I've got it, I've got it. Just grab the towels and follow me."
"But Adeline said..." Nivalis tried to protest, reaching out to take the heavy pot from him anyway, but he just turned around and shuffled away like a kid who stole a cookie, the pot sloshing and splashing in his arms. She sighed, watching him disappear behind the curtain, then picked up the towels and the small bar of soap, gesturing for her children to follow her. "Come on. Let's get cleaned up a little."
A few steps later, they found themselves in a small, cramped kitchen. Wooden beams formed the low ceiling, almost hidden beneath the hanging bundles of herbs and the strings of dried onions and garlic. The shelves overflowed with sacks and jars of all sizes. In the center, a large table dominated the space, its surface scarred with countless knife marks. Pots and pans hung from hooks along the walls, their handles blackened by the fire.
"To the left," Adeline called out without even turning to look at them as she chopped vegetables, her knife thudding rhythmically against the wooden board.
A door stood ajar to the left of the table, revealing a narrow, dimly lit hallway. After mumbling a quiet "Thank you" to the busy woman, Nivalis led her children through it, their socks muffling the sounds of their steps on the worn floorboards. The walls there were the same dark logs as the rest of the house, only this time they were mostly bare.
"Over here!" came Tomas's muffled voice from the third, furthest door down the hall. It didn't take them long to reach it, and just as they did, he stumbled out of it, wiping wet hands on a rag from his belt. "All set for you. Wash your hands and faces, and whatever else you need to. Wet one towel, use the other to dry," he said, opening the door wider to reveal a small room, a closet really, with a steaming pot of water on the floor and a small window letting in the last light of the day through the loose shutters. "Try not to make a mess. Adeline gets a bit... well. Adeline."
"O-okay," Nivalis answered, glancing at her children, then at the old man. "Thank you."
"Don't mention it. We do have a proper bathhouse in the backyard," Tomas pointed with his thumb over his shoulder, "but it takes forever to prepare, so we use it only once a week or so. Tomorrow, if the weather is not too terrible, I'll prepare it for you." A smile touched the corners of his mouth, "You girls look like you haven't had a proper soak in ages. It will do you good." He then stepped out of their way and gestured for them to go inside. "Just leave the pot and soap when you're done. I'll take care of that later."
Nivalis thanked him again, nodded, and stepped into the small room with Silvia following right after her. Aster, however, lingered in the hallway for a heartbeat longer, his attention stolen by something on the wall, right next to the door. Something he simply couldn't ignore, couldn't look away from. A small, rectangular thing hanging from a rusty nail. Something his very soul recognized instantly. A painting.
It was small, in a cracked wooden frame, no bigger than both of his palms together, but still. "Oh..." he breathed out, stepping closer to it without even realizing it. It portrayed a smiling woman with dark hair, Adeline, her hands resting on the shoulders of two boys, both of them looking up at her.
The painting was crude, the canvas more like rough cloth, the colors dull, and the lines shaky. And yet... it was beautiful. It had that thing, the thing the art was all about—it made you feel something deep in your chest when you looked at it. Not many of them had that.
Tomas, who was about to leave, noticed Aster staring at the painting and stopped. He watched him for a quiet moment, then stepped beside him, a shadow falling over the small shoulder. "Ah, you found it. That's..." he muttered with a muffled gulp, then went silent for a while, just staring at it. "This is Cassian..." he eventually said, pointing with a trembling finger to the taller of the two boys. "...and Henry," he added, moving his finger to the smaller one who had a gap-toothed smile.
Aster watched his fingers touch the cracked wooden frame, brushing away the dust gathered in its corners. "Addie painted it herself, a while back. I made the frame," he continued, his voice now lower, softer. "Tell her it's good every time, but she never believes me. She keeps repainting their eyes, over and over, every year. Always saying something's not right about them."
It didn't take Aster even a heartbeat to see what was wrong with those eyes, brown as their mother's. He could list a dozen things off about them—from the overall shape down to the curve of the eyelashes—but only one truly stood out, so glaringly obvious it made his fingers twitch with the urge to snatch the painting off the wall and fix it himself. A soft smack of the lips broke the quiet when he opened his mouth to tell the old man exactly what was wrong with them, what he should tell Adeline to do.
But before any word could come out, a soft "Asty...?" came from inside the room, his pink lips closing right after. He turned to see Nivalis peeking through the doorway, giving him a questioning look. A frown instantly replaced it when she noticed the painting, the two boys portrayed in it, and the sorrow etched across the old man's face beside her son. "Oh, gods... I'm so sorry, Tomas. I should have..." she murmured, stepping into the hallway and pulling Aster away from the wall by the arm.
Tomas just shook his head and forced a weak smile. "It's alright, dear. She just glanced. Nothing to be sorry about," he said, patting Aster on the shoulder with a heavy hand. "I'll leave you to it now," he then added before turning away. He walked down the narrow hallway towards the kitchen without looking back, the old floorboards creaking under his weight, the slump of his shoulders telling a story of its own.
With a quiet sigh, Nivalis dragged her son into the room and closed the door behind them, plunging the small space into near-darkness, save for the faint light from the window. "What in the world were you thinking?" Her voice barely rose above a whisper, but the disappointment in it made it louder than any shout could be. "You heard him back on the road... mentioning them, the way he did. It's incredibly rude, Aster, what you just did."
Aster's gaze dropped to the floor, the worn boards suddenly fascinating. "I... I just wanted to look," he mumbled, kicking at a loose splinter of wood with the toe of his sock. "I didn't mean to... I didn't think. I'm sorry." She didn't say anything to that, just sighed through her nose, then turned to the pot of steaming water. From across the small room, Silvia shot him that familiar look of 'you messed up' before shaking her head and moving to their mother's side by the pot.
After giving the back of his neck an awkward scratch, Aster shuffled closer, just in time to see Nivalis dipping one of the towels into the hot water. Wringing it just enough to keep it from dripping, she brought the warm cloth to her face with a soft sigh and began to scrub, her cheeks, her nose, her forehead, her chin, cleaning away the grime of the road.
When her face was pink and clean, her neck came next after a quick dip of the towel into the pot, as well as the parts of her chest that peeked out from the collar of the dress. "Take off your clothes," she said quietly, her voice soft in the small room as she rinsed the towel once more and grabbed the soap.
Aster's fingers had just found the hem of his dress when three soft knocks against the door made them all flinch. They stood frozen like startled deer as the door creaked inward, revealing Adeline's face in the narrow opening. "Pardon me, girls. That old fool forgot you'd need some light in here," she murmured, holding a clay cup with a lit candle inside, its flame flickering and casting dancing shadows across her tired features.
Carefully, she set it down on a small, wobbly stool near the door, then reached into her pocket. "And this..." she said softly, pulling out a small, brown jar and putting it down right beside the candle. "For your oldest one... her hands," she added, glancing at Aster and those burns of his. Silvia let out a small, offended huff at him being called the older one, though it went unnoticed. "It's just some lard and herbs, nothing fancy. But it helps. Best to put it on after dinner."
"T-thank you," Nivalis said as Adeline straightened up. "That's very kind."
The woman just nodded, her gaze sweeping over the three of them just then, her expression unreadable in the candlelight. For a moment, she stood there in the doorway, silent, the sounds of Tomas humming softly to himself from the kitchen drifting through.
Then, with a quiet sigh, she gave Nivalis a small, almost apologetic smile. "Oh, umm..." she eventually let out, then, after another awkward pause, "...take your time." She reached for the door's handle and tugged it closed, leaving them in the soft glow of the candle.
Once the door clicked shut, Nivalis broke the silence. "Alright..." she said quietly, rubbing her face for a moment before grabbing the soap again. "...let's get you two squeaky clean. Don't take off your pants, in case she comes back. Just... the top parts," she murmured while rubbing the soap between her palms to work up a lather.
The moment Aster got out of the grey dress and the embroidered tunic, she cupped his face with her soapy hands and began rubbing him without mercy. "M-mooom..." came out of him, all muffled and whiny as he scrunched up his face.
Silvia giggled at that, but her amusement was short-lived as Nivalis turned her attention to her next, her small face scrunching up just like her brother's had. "Stay still," Nivalis hushed them both, a small smile playing on her lips despite their protests. Neither listened, of course. They both whined and tried to wiggle away, but there was no escaping their mother's soapy grasp, their cheeks scrubbed until they glowed pink in the candlelight.
After that, she grabbed the wet towel and began gently washing the soap from their faces, this time starting with Silvia. "I... I'd almost forgotten about it," the girl murmured between wipes, shyly so. "The soap, I mean. It's nice."
Nivalis nodded, a soft hum escaping her. "It's been a while... a long while," she said, her voice trailing off as she rinsed the towel clean and turned to her troublemaker. She did the same for him, the boy's golden eyes fluttering shut as she wiped away all the white from his delicate face, until there was none left and he was all clean and rosy-cheeked.
Once done with their faces, she quickly took off her dress and tunic, dropping them onto the pile of their clothes, and repeated the whole thing to herself. She picked up the soap again, and her breasts began jiggling heavily as she worked the lather between her hands once more. Her movements were quicker this time, less gentle, her face turning into a blur of suds and water as she scrubbed it clean in record speed. Then, with a quick rinse, she was done, her face gleaming in the candlelight, the skin tight and just as pink from the hot water and soap. "Arms up," she ordered softly, turning her attention back to the kids.
Aster raised his arms without hesitation, but Silvia, for some reason, didn't. She just stood there, staring at her mother with wide, frantic eyes. "What? Did I miss a spot?" Nivalis asked after a moment, giving her own cheek a wipe with her shoulder. Silvia didn't answer, and just after a moment of silence, she lifted a trembling hand and touched her mother's ear—the very one that was supposed to be tucked away and hidden behind her braids.
Nivalis sucked in a sharp breath, her fingers flying to the same spot. "How long... how long has it been showing?" she whispered, her eyes darting between the siblings, then straight toward the door, through which Adeline had disappeared only moments before. The candle flame's reflection danced in their panicked blue. "Did she see it?"
With her heart suddenly pounding against her ribs, Aster looked at the door as well, noticing just how quiet it was on the other side.
...
