Aithe swept back into the kitchen, arms full of dishes, to find her son working on the latch of the door. She put the crockery down. "Gavin." Perhaps it was only the cold air that lent a brittle bite to her tone. "Leave the door. It's cold outside."

"Wha' bout Jack?" said the four-year-old, pushing his bottom lip out into a pout. "I wanna see him."

"Jack's working, love." Aithe felt cold seeping through the chinks and nipping at her bare skin, and made a concerted effort to soften the strain in her voice. "He'll be back soon."

The lip jutted out further. "No. I wan' Jack."

She couldn't leave Gavin there in the kitchen if he was going to insist upon working at the latch until it let him out into the bitter cold. Aithe left Lia at the fire and flung her coat on. The stable boy shouldn't be out in the cold anyway, and it was nearly time for dinner. "Stay here," she said, fixing Gavin with a warning eye, and stepped out to fasten the door behind her.

Bitter cold did not describe it. The frigid wind whipped Aithe's skirt about her legs and numbed her skin, bringing reflexive tears to her eyes and stinging in her chest. A charcoal sky mantled the little town and viciously twisted the bare branches of trees into strange, bent shapes. The oncoming twilight was ominous. "J-Jack," she stuttered through numb lips, squinting in the half-light at the stable door, which swung open on hinges.

They creaked a plaintive wail, moving with the wind. Aithe winced at the sound.

She swiveled, flinging her eyes hastily into corners of the yard, wrapping her arms around herself for warmth. Nothing - nothing - by the woodpile, a huddled figure made her look twice.

"Ah, fates preserve us," Aithe chattered, chagrin warring with an edge of panic. She stumbled toward him and bent to seize the boy by the shoulders. "Jack! Wake up!"

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Isaac glanced up as one of the serving girls walked over to help him. He tried to remember her name. Jenny? Didn’t sound quite right. Jenna – that was it. She looked very pale and not in the best condition to be dragging stout men around, but he nodded and shifted as much of the man's weight as he could to himself. “Bench. Right.”

Together, they half-dragged, half-carried the man out of the way and deposited him unceremoniously on the bench. “There. Not the most comfortable spot, but people won’t be stepping on him now.” As he straightened, the pain in his head intensified. “Oh, and when you get a minute, I’ll take another ale.” He walked back to his table and slumped down in a chair, glad to see that his friends had left in favor of gawking at the frosty windows and talking with other patrons.

Jack’s eyelids fluttered;
“Jack! Wake up!”
It was too cold, his head hurt too much, he didn’t want to wake up. All he wanted to do was sink back into the warm darkness. Aithe shook him harder and a pair of groggy brown eyes looked up at her in a lost way.
“Wha’…wha’ happened?” His words came out slowly as if from a deep well. His eyes searched her face in confusion until they fell on the open door to the stables. If it was possible for someone as frozen and near hypothermic as Jack was to freeze again he did just that. The words came tumbling out of his mouth in a flood of panic;
“The horses, they’ll freeze, they’ll catch colds and die!” His fear was palpable on the icy air. He struggled to pull himself to his feet in an obvious effort to close the door and return to the stables but only succeeded in rolling onto his face and earning himself a nasty cut on his forehead.

His blood seeped into the frost that now thickly covered the stones. Its progress was slow and sluggish; as unmotivated as the same blood that flowed through his veins, his heart slowing to an irregular thump so long had he been out in the deathly cold. A whimper, a plea for help from the cold and pain trickled from his lips in a desperate attempt to quit his freezing body.

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Made by Lembas

Calanon turned back to the fire with a smile, 'Well...everythings normal now...at least...'

Aithe jerked away as the boy made a frenzied effort to rise, her eyes following his frantic rush at the stable door. She went to close and latch it, wincing at the plaintive screech of hinges on the howling wind, and turned to curl and uncurl her stiff fingers and stare helplessly across at his motionless form.

Blood trickled thinly into cracks between the frosted cobblestones. Aithe drew breath to cry for help, but the shrieks of the gale would have drowned her voice.

Jack was too heavy for her to carry, too heavy by far. Aithe looked from him to the closed door back into the kitchen, and made a mad dash back across the yard.

When she slammed the door behind her, Aithe firmly placed the questing Gavin back on his bench by the fire. "Stay there - no, Gavin, mama is not in the mood for this. Stay there."

Rubbing her frozen hands together, she hurried into the front room. A packed mob of people huddled at tables in the smoky, ale-smelling air. She swiveled. It would take at least two of them to drag Jack inside. There - one of the miners. Isaac?

Hardly caring what his name was and more concerned with the muscles he'd likely acquired in the mining profession, Aithe unwound the scarf from her mouth and nose and forced her way through the press of people. "Isaac, right?" she said, leaning heavily on the edge of the table. "There's a boy in the yard. He's hit his head, and he'll need bringing inside. Could I trouble you -?"

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Isaac looked up at the woman hurried over to his table. At her words and the concerned look on her face, he stood. “Of course. This isn’t a good day for anyone to be outside.”

He followed her across the room, out the door. The first gust of frigid wind left him gasping for breath and brought stinging tears to his eyes. Forcing himself not to rush back inside to the fire, he scanned the yard, spotting a huddled figure lying near the stable wall. He hurried towards the boy, stumbling a few times as his limbs started going numb.

Reaching Jack, he gently rolled him over, grimacing at the sight of his cut. The lad seemed barely conscious. “You get on his other side,” he told Aithe perfunctorily. Isaac started to lift Jack, pulling one of the boy’s arms over his shoulders. “Ready?” he asked the woman. They started to make their way back towards the inn, carrying Jack between them.

Jack's head lolled to the side as they carried him. he barely registered them; and did not have the streanth to do anything even if he had. The cold washed over him, his consiouseness sinking ever deeper. His very cheeks were almost blue and the tears had frozen round his eyes, forceing them shut.

As they entered the kitchen the heat seemed to swallow his body in a fierce asult. He was so cold that the heat was almost causeing him pain. But his fingers twitched as life returned to them. The cut on his forehead began to bleed afresh in reaction to the heat and he moaned slightly. Another few minites and it might have been too late for Jack.

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Made by Lembas

Davyn grinned at Morgan, shaking his head. "No, you shouldn't wash that up right yet--I'd rather you fill it up so I can empty it again." The last bit came out significantly less jolly as he rolled his eyes to look once more at the windows. Just the sight of them made him shudder. "What d'you think it was as froze the windows?" he asked her. "It can't be normal, not in the middle of summer and all..."

He broke off as Hal walked up, breaching conversation with a bit of small talk. Even as Davyn opened his mouth to reply, though, Hal continued right on talking. "Has anyone seen Fiona? She looked a little ill earlier, and now I can't see her."

Davyn looked at him in surprise, then looked to the windows again--his eyes seemed drawn as though to a lode stone. "If she isn't in here, I suppose that means she's out there," he said, displaying his profound intellect, "but I wouldn't be thinking that it's good to be out in that unnatural cold. Maybe we should go look for her some more, just to be certain."

He pushed himself to his feet, then steadied himself with a hand on the table--maybe he had drunk more than he realised.

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(Elenya, I <3 your banner )

Morgan didn't miss Davyn's slight sway. "Hey now," she smiled, still maintaining possession of the tankard, while gripping his shoulder to push him back down. "Why don't you just sit awhile, yes? I'll go back to the kitchen and warm you some cider - that'll heat you back up." She looked up at her father. "I'll see if Fiona's back there. She might have gone in search of the stove."

The blond woman wasn't in sight as Morgan bustled into the kitchen, and she certainly wasn't by the potbellied iron stove at the room's center. Where could she have got to? Morgan drew off a kettleful of soft cider, then placed it on the worn, black top. It was only then that she realized that Aithe and Isaac, one of their frequent customers, were bent over pale, frigid shape. "Fiona?" Aithe's little ones looked on the verge of tears. She stepped closer. "Jack!"

Frozen for a moment in shock, she finally became cognizant that she was on her knees at his side, grabbing one frozen, blue hand with her own and feeling his forehead with the other. "Was he outside? Is he going to be alright? Is it frostbite? -" and then "-Fiona's not inside either."

Tears gathered in her green eyes as she gazed up imploringly at Mistress Aithe - and blinding pain shot through her temples once more.

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<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

At Morgan's tears, Gavin instantly burst into sobs of his own. Aithe flung up her hands as Lia jammed a thumb in her mouth and buried her face in her mama's skirts. "Goodness, it's a cut to the head and a few bruises! He couldn't have been outside for more than minutes!"

Moving with a three-year-old in tow, Aithe turned to open the stove and add wood to the luminous coals. "Gavin, mama needs you to stop crying now. Morgan, girl, if you're so worried about him, go and get a blanket and a hot water bottle!"

She managed to drag Jack's heavy form closer, and then swung Lia up onto one hip. The little girl's bottom lip was trembling. Aithe tucked her daughter's head under her chin and patted her. "Shh, now, it's all right. It's all right," she said, eyes darting about the kitchen. Chill air still seeped through the crack beneath the door. Gavin gave a noisy sob and ran to bury his face in her skirts. A dull headache began to pound in Aithe's temples.

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Cavan glanced curiously at the man being dragged in from outside. Was he another drunk? Cavan took a closer look, and then swore as he relized the man was nearly frozen. "The cows" he muttered furiously, standing up. How cold was it outside? If that man had nearly frozen to death, then the cows needed to be moved to a sheltered location. But before he could leave, his friend Blaidri caught his arm and dragged him back to his seat. "Your farm hands can take care of the cows." He told Cavan. "They gave you the night off. Use it." Uneasily Cavan took his seat.

Jack's eyelides flickered as the ice holding them shut melted in the warmth of the kitchen. It was as if someone was calling is name; "Jack!...Was he outside? Is he going to be alright? Is it frostbite?" Slowly consiouseness returned and with it pain. He moned slightly and tried to move but couldn't. His eyes opened and he smiled to see Gavin and immidiately felt guilty. Aithe must be haveing a nightmare keeping them in cheak.
"Gavin" he managed to gasp eventually. The little boy looked up with a teary grin and ran over to him.

"Now then little man; don' you be a' crying about nothing. You stay here and keep your Jack company yeah?" He manged to croak out in a horse whisper. "Thankyou Aithe" he gave her a greatful smile, he didn't know how to express how much he owed her. He had no doubts that he would be dead if it wasn't for her. The most he could now do was watch the children for her.
"Morgan?" He asked hesitantly, was that a glisten of a tear wiped hastily away he saw? He smiled inwardly, even if it wasn't in the way he felt; she cared for him in some way at least.

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Made by Lembas

"Heavens above, Jack!" Jenna cried out setting down her tray to see what happened to the boy.

She was somewhat familiar with the man - that is to say she had always seen him about mooning over Morgan for hours on end. It was somewhat pathetic, true, but he was a nice boy who did not deserve to be in pain.

"Aithe, is there somethin' I could do to help you? I have some tea on at the moment. Would it help the lad?" She asked looking at the sorry looking Jack.

Jenna wrung her hands together as she warried a glance about the inn and her brow creased seeing the icy windows. In all her time to work at the place she had never seen a stranger night than this.

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Heavens no. Hell Yeah.


Set 1: Nurr | Set 2: Me

"Yes, tea would be a help, I think -" began Aithe, but was interrupted by a chorus of shouts for more ale. She put Lia down and poked at the fire once more, waving a dismissive hand at Jenna. "You'll get behind. Tea can wait until later."

"Whatzat?" said Gavin loudly, reaching to point at the sluggishly bleeding gash on Jack's head.

"Do not touch. No, I said don't touch." Ye gods, was there a hammer in her temples? Aithe turned away irritably. "You're welcome," she said over her shoulder. "Count yourself lucky, and don't do it again."

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Calanon stayed silent, his sharp ears taking in all the information he heard around him, thinking, Please...pray...no one notice me...not just yet...

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Just became a college freshman; be on sparingly