daretosee | For fractalsfrozen

Siebren has lived in these mountains since long before the humans built their small village. He's watched them grow and change over the years from a respectful distance. They are for the most part, fearful, small minded creatures. They fear him...and do not trespass into his domain...except when they are young and foolish. The cold and ice...and the other supernatural denizens of the mountain, ensure they leave one way or another.

However, he has been alerted by the wind sprites and the brownies that there is a human on the mountain in the storm. This is not one of his making...it is of the Earth...but it knows he is the king of this mountain...and it will not hurt him. Something intrigues him...pulls him from his palatial cave, into the wild storm. What would cause a human to come to this place...and not leave? Surely it has not been pleasant. It is not a suitable time for a lone human to be in the mountains..not that there necessarily is a good time.

Why should this human warrant his attention? Normally when he watched them, it was with a certain disaffected interest that came from watching ants swarming a bit of honey that had dripped from a lunch basket. So why, then...why had he left the warm glow of his cavern to see this strange creature?

He was the king of the mountain and he did as he liked.

An ice sprite crawled up out of the snow beside him, chittering in a voice that sounded like cracking ice. It made it quite clear that if Siebren was not interested in the human, it would eat it...but it was happy to show the lord of the mountain where the human had fallen. Siebren accepted its guidance...thanked it, as one was to do.

When they reach the man, the elemental regarded him for a few moments before dropping the shield of glamour he had around him, rendering him visible. All seven feet of him clad in thick furs and armor.

The human looked pathetic-lying there in a drift, clutching a blanket around himself. He was too old to make such a foolish decision willingly...to come up here in the winter. Surely he would die if he had not already. If he was dead, he would let the ice sprite have him. The king of the mountain was not wasteful. However, small puffs of steam, barely visible came out the human's mouth. He yet lived.

He slowly raised a clawed hand, motioning for the sprite to stay still.

"He is mine. I shall have him."

The sprite nodded and bowed its eyes, showing respect for the decision. Siebren reached into his cloak and pulled out a large piece of dried meat and offered it to the sprite.

"I thank you for your service."

The sprite nodded again before gently taking the offered meat and disappearing into the snow.

Siebren turned his glowing blue eyes to the human in the snow again before leaning over to pick him up. It was easier than he thought to lift the man up and pull him under his cloak.

Making their way back to his cave was easy. The wind was kind enough to be at their back as it wailed. Within the hour, they were back at his mountain that yawned open, welcoming them into the cavern that served as the ice king's home. The crystals on the walls glowed with ancient magic, giving their surroundings a comforting blue glow and illuminating his home. He carried the man through until he found a side cavern with a small hot spring and a small bed. He eased the man down onto the bed and slowly backed up, giving him some air.

He stirs for a moment when he's lifted up, but loses consciousness almost immediately after. Everything is dark and cold and when he does stir again it's much warmer...and there's no howling winds cutting through his very bones.

Harold curls in on himself, shivering sharply still not really awake yet. It's only when the wetness of his clothes start to become uncomfortable that he really comes to. Yanking off gloves and trying to kick off his boots, Harold sits up with stiff movements working to peel off his coat when he realizes he's being watched.

More importantly that he's not dead or out in the storm any longer. Brown eyes widen behind glasses still wet from the snow at seeing the um. Fae? He'd heard much about them, but most were tales, he'd never seen one in his life. Most people didn't. They kept to themselves as the stories went.

He's not sure if the numbness he feels is from fear or because he'd been out in cold for so long, either way, he's not sure what to do. So he removes his coat and folds it on to his lap, clearing his throat.

"... hello. Did you rescue me from the storm?" Honestly he can't remember if he made it to shelter before collapsing or not. For all he knew he stumbled into this creatures lair before giving in to the elements.

It has been years since a human had addressed him. He knew their tongue...had learned it cloaked in glamour sitting outside their schools and learning circles. He was patient. It took him time to learn things, but he learned them. However, he had no idea if his mastery of the tongue is...intelligible to them.

No time like the present to find out.

"I suppose. You were collapsed in the snow."

The elemental cocked his head to the side questioningly and his snowy white hair fell around his icy horns.

"You look old enough to know better than to be out in such conditions. Why have you come to my mountain?"

Before he offered anything else, he must know the stranger's intentions. Did he seek favor? Had he come to harm any of the magical beings here? Poach some game for a hungry family. He needed to know who and what he was dealing with for certain.

The thought had crossed his mind after he'd asked the question if it could even understand him. It seemed so as it spoke to him in human tongue, though his pronunciation was a little rough, but nothing he couldn't understand.

It supposes it recused him, that's an odd answer. Harold's brows furrow as his shivers, hands rubbing at his arms. He really should get out of these wet and cold clothes. He'll get I'll otherwise.

"The mountain? I didn't even realize... I-I'm sorry, with the snow and then the storm I got turned around. It wasn't intentional." Most knew not to tread on the mountain, it was a dangerous place, a place said to be home to great and powerful brings.

"I mean no disrespect being here." Truly. No one came to the mountain unless they had a death wish or thought the stories were just that. Stories. Few returned if they went to hunt, most didn't regardless.

This mountain wasn't meant for humans.

The ice king nodded at the explanation. The man seemed to have gotten lost. The fae could detect no lie in his words...but was that all? He had been heading in the general direction before the storm.

"Crossing the pass is not possible on foot this time of year. You were here before the storm struck. Tell me, stranger, where were you planning to go? Should you not be in your village? Wrapped in a blanket by the fire?"

He had taken the man out of the cold, out of the ice...but they were still in a cave and despite the hot springs, it was still damp, felt more so by his wet clothes.

"O-Oh I... um." Is the fae trying to catch him in a lie? Maybe he had been on the mountain before the storm, either way it all looked the same to him with snow covering the ground. He was no tracker, no ranger, if he turns in place one direction looks the same as the other to him.

Gods but he's cold, it makes it hard to think and his shivering only gets worse.

"I s-should be, but I was cast from my home by the towns people." Not his choice to be out here.

"I'd hoped t-to make it to the next settlement if po-possible, but my hopes weren't high with the weather as it has been." Harold had left town with the knowledge he'd most likely perish, but if that was the cost of doing what was right so be it.

The shivering catches Siebren's attention. It has been getting progressively worse. If he wants to suss out the reason for the man's exile, he will have to warm him up.

"Those wet clothes of yours will have to come off if you wish to stay. And by that I mean alive."

The fae moved ove to the small hot spring and knelt beside it, dipping a clawed hand into it, showing it was not, in fact, acid or otherwise harmful. It was simply hot water.

"The water here is warmed by the blood of the Earth. It should do you some good. Please. I should be disappointed if you made it all the way to my doorstep only to die in my guest room."

He nodded towards the pool.

Oh good, he hadn't wanted to be rude and just start... undressing or interrupt the fae's questioning. He did owe him after all. Thankfully it seems his predicament and Harold mutters a 'thank you' as he starts to tug off a few more layers of wet clithing.

While he appreciates the help, he feels awkward undressing in front of the fae. He's not embarrassed, just... well, did the fae not know of modesty? Still he won't demand he leave, this is his home after all.

"Th-Thank you, it looks. Warm." Which he's looking forward to. Harold decides to keep his shirt on, tugging it down to hide his modesty as he carefully gets into the hot spring.

As he sinks down he thinks that if the fae secretly planned to boil him alive in here at least he'd die not shivering to death. He has the after thought to take his glasses off, setting them aside before duking down under the water and popping back up with a gasp.

"Oh that's hot, oh that's nice." The relief in his voice is grateful.

Siebren does his best to avert his eyes. He knows these creatures are modest, but a fae would never put its own health at risk to avoid a human getting an eyeful...at least an ice or winter one. Siebren collected the discarded clothes, pretending to find them very interesting, hopefully giving his visitor the privacy he needed...not sure if he succeeded or not. No matter. Momentary discomfort was a small price to pay for staying alive.

"I'll hang these up for you. I'm sure I have something you can borrow, should you need it before your own clothes are properly cleaned and dried."

He left the human for a few moments, hanging the clothes up on his own laundry line over a steam vent in the floor to get them warmed and cleaned. Then , he moved on to his own chamber, pulling a shirt and robe free. The giant spiders of the mountain had woven them for him in return for watching their egg sacs while they slept for the winter. They were large enough to capture a deer or a man in their webs, but they never trespassed without his knowledge. His house guest had nothing to fear from them. He returned then and laid the items on the small bed.

"You may call me Sigma if you must call me anything. The creatures of the mountain do, so it is appropriate for a human as well."

He eased down and placed clawed feet in the spring.

"And who might you be, stranger on the mountain?"

"Oh, thank you." The fae is being so kind and he's... shocked? It's not that he thought it was going to eat him or toss him back in the snow, but as he'd trespassed in his domain it would serve him right.

Left alone for a moment, Harold sinks back down in the spring, gaze unfocused, feeling so numb even as his body warms easing the trembles of the cold that had seeped into him. What in the world was he supposed to do now that he was in this predicament. Was it even one? The fae had done nothing but be kind to him so far, but who knew how long that good will would last. Honestly Harold had no plans of his own, he had assumed he'd be dead by now, for as much as he had tried not to just lay in the snow and give up. He didn't want to die and now here he was, in the home of a fae, a being mostly seen as a cautionary tale.

Harold blinks back into focus at the fae's voice, eyes following him as he moves to sit at the edge of the hot spring to place his feet in there with him. Closer like this he really looks at him, taking in everything as he nods at being told his name. Or a name. For a second he doesn't realized he's been asked his own as he's staring at the pale skin and blue sharp horns on his head, the glowing eyes... oh!

"Harold. Harold Winston." Harold draws his knees up to his chest, hugging them and resting his chin a top them. "You've been more than kind to me when I've trespassed on your land, I owe you my life, Sigma." Truly he did. If he'd been left out there it wouldn't have been much longer that he'd have died. Or been eaten, not that he'd known of that near fate.

"I don't know how I can repay you." He looks over at the fae again, at those blue glowing eyes. How does one show appreciation to such a being? Well. Staying off their mountain for one he's sure.

Siebren was many things...but a poor host is not one of them. He's kept pets before...and while none of them had ever been human, it felt similar...at least in principle. Make sure they are comfortable...have their needs met. The human would die if he forced him out...and he had just allowed him in...no...brought him in. It would serve no purpose for him to deny him shelter now...and he did not want to. Perhaps he just wanted company. The other fae, save for that spunky little ice drake that popped in in the winter would most likely not be seen until spring.

He nodded at Harold Winston acknowledging his grace. He was the king of the mountain, not some wild beast. His wrath was terrible when he wanted it to be....but he felt no such inclination at the moment.

"You said yourself that it was an accident. I found you in the snow and you yet lived. It would be...against alignment for me to have left you to die."

Yes, that was it. He was a creature of nature but contrary to his appearance, he would not leave a creature to die in the snow. He'd rescued elk...birds...a bear once...all manner of nature's beings...and surely a human counted as one of those.

He can feel the human's eyes on him, thus he allows himself to also look the human over. They seem to have granted each other silent permission to take each other in.

"Presently, I am in need of nothing."

The human had nothing he needed...or at this point even wanted.

"Don't die. How about that? It would be a waste of both our times."

He arches an eybrow and half smiles, hoping it conveys a bit of humor.

To a being like Sigma he must seem so small and boring. Plain compared to a fae. He was just a middle aged human with no special abilities or gifts.

Unless knowledge counted. Even then what knowledge he had was an amalgamation of literature he'd gleamed from bigger and more advanced cities. Harold had merely tried to bring it to his town, to the people he cared for.

"Don't-? Aha-haha." He's not sure why it's so funny to him, but it does genuinely get a good laugh out of him. So close to perishing, Harold finds the request amusing, a smile warming his face.

"If that's what you're asking of me, I won't." Speaking of, he's certainly been soaking in the spring long enough to melt the grip the cold had had on him. Standing he's quick to shake off and go grab the shirt Sigma had left for him to change into. Only a shirt.

It's HUGE so really it's better than nothing. Harold won't complain. He does however turn away from the fae as he tugs his own wet shirt off, then pulls the other one over his head. O-Oh its. So soft. So warm. He's never felt anything like it. Being so big on his it easily covers his modesty and more, but does fall off one shoulder looking more like an oversized nightgown.

"Thank you, this is very nice."

Siebren beamed at that laugh. Ah, yes, good, human humor was something he could convey.

"All for now. Though if I think of something, I will let you know."

The fae averted his eyes as the human pulled on his shirt...and it was made to fit an elemental, not a man and it showed. It hung off of him, as it was easily 4 sizes larger than what he normally wore.

"You are welcome. The spiders make them for me. Their webbing is stronger than any other weaving in the world...and much, much softer as I am sure you noticed."

He paused.

"You seem very kind and gracious, Harold Winston. Why would a man such as you be cast out from your village?"

Going to grab his glasses he then rings his shirt out in the hot spring before laying it out to dry. He looks at Sigma with an arched brow at the mention of spiders.

"Spiders?" That's... amazing, but also strange. Spiders weave wonderfully soft shirts for the fae?

He'll take a seat on the bed then, legs crossed, hands pitter pattering at his feet.

"Ah... the abridged reasoning would be my town thinks me some sort of warlock... that I'm trying to harm them with black magicks." His mouth sets in a thin line with a sigh.

"It's nothing like that of course. I just wanted to better heal them, help them with their ails. With medicine! Praying to gods and sacrificing beasts to hope people don't die doesn't need to happen anymore, but they wouldn't listen!" He swallows then, remembering the 'trial' he was put on by the towns folk, unfairly mind you, and sentenced to death by hanging or to be banished into the wilds. Pretty much the same thing this time of year.

"... I just wanted to help." Spoken softly, sad.

Siebren nodded.

"Yes...well, not all of them. The Grandmother Spiders...bear sized creatures. They knit for us in exchange for favors. Do not be troubled. They are sleeping now, because of the cold. You won't see them until after the frost has left the ground."

Siebren at last got up as the human began to tell his story. He rose to his feet, then floated in the air and crossed his legs, hovering while listening closely. So that's why the man had been out in the snow. His sadness was genuine. It weighed in his heart in a way that the fae could practically smell.

"You are a healer."

It was a statement.

"You may stay here...if you wish...until the storm passes...or until spring when the pass is...well...passable."

A healer would be a good safety measure to have. He was immortal, not invulnerable. He could become ill...one of his subjects could be hurt...and a healer would be beneficial to have in that case. Room and board for a single human was well worth the small effort of keeping him alive.

"Oh well, that's... good to know." The mild panic that shows in his eyes dissipates hearing that he wouldn't see any giant spiders till the spring. Probably mid spring. He wouldn't be here that long anyway. No doubt he'll be sent on his way soon enough.

"Sigma that's- thank you. You're certain I won't be an inconvenience? The others won't mind?" Others as in other fae. Harold just assumes there are more here, certainly Sigma didn't live up on this mountain all on his own without any of his kind here with him.

Right?

"One human, provided they are mindful, is no inconvenience to me."

The mountain had opened for them to return. If it had objected to Harold being there in the first place, it would have made it clear.

"I am the king of the mountain, the oldest of my kind here. I do what I wish...within reason and if my decision is to have a house guest for the season, they will respect that."

Well...he was the only true one of his kind here. The countless others were different species and types, but Siebren was an elemental born of the mountain itself...proof it was healthy enough to spawn its own fae. If he died, it would create another. It would be different in the way that no two children are the same.

"Besides, the caverns of the mountain are my domain. The others may sometimes come over through the passages that connect them. Most are harmless but there are some I...disagree with. We keep to ourselves, mostly. Hopefully they will not make an appearance. There is...a trouble making ice drake that seems to pop in now and again. She isn't malicious, but she does enjoy teasing humans she finds."

It was a fair warning. The Banshee and the Wraith tended to keep to the lowlands of the mountain range, but even they came up to speak to him.

There's a while lot he's being told, but what he mostly is getting from it is that the fae is here. Alone. That must be very lonely on this mountain, a mountain none are supposed to come on.

His brows knit thinking of it, before his nose crinkles he sneezes. Oh boy. That hot spring had surely helped, but it seemed he still may come down with a cold. Harold tugs the blanket up around his shoulders, wrapping himself up with a little shiver.

"So you live here on your own?" Probably none of his business, but he'd find out soon enough if he was going to be sticking around.

"... is it the way of your people then, keeping watch over the world silently? I mean... there's no villages or towns where you all live together?" This is as good a time as any to learn about the fae.

"Gezondheid."

The human would need food....and extra clothes. Neither would be a problem.
He smiled at Harold's concern-So like a healer to be worries about the well being of others. He softly shook his head.

"No, Harold Winston. I am not alone. I have the mountain...stronger and older than all of us...I have the pixies, the sprites, the brownies...the Grandmother Spiders, the little ice drake...outside I have the rivers...the trees...and...and the stars. All the earth and sky is alive if you listen and look."

He paused.

"I'm told that there are some places where some do. I've never left my mountain. I would not leave it unprotected. The smaller beings...they have small settlements in the trees all down the mountain. IS that not a village?"

"Thank you." Or he's pretty sure he just excused his sneeze. It still amazed him just how kind the fae was. Growing up the stories of them had been used to scare chidren into listening to their parents. Don't misbehave or your father will give you to the faeries!

Sure no doubt there were evil cruel ones out there, but Sigma had been nothing but a gentleman and saved his life. There was evil in all things, as well as good. This fae who ruled ruled the mountain with his jagged horns and claws with pale skin looked like a monster at first glance, but the more Harold's eyes took him in, the more he saw kindness and a softness to him.

"It seems our way of seeing the world is so very different, but I believe you're right." And that's when he realizes- "Oh, just call me Harold, please. Winston is my last name." Did the fae have last names? Would he know what that meant?

"You know you speak wonderfully, I can't imagine human tongue is common to your people?" Or perhaps it was. Who knew how old Sigma was, common tongue could have been passed down through the ages.

"I have listened to human speech for many years. I rarely have anyone to practice it with...and that is how I like to keep it...mostly...but, thank you, Harold. I...I had a friend...long ago. He was an old man who lived alone in a shanty he built on the edge of the forest. I was very young...I hadn't grown into my horns yet...he...taught me human words for things, though I never quite learned to say things back in his lifetime. That was several centuries ago...but I still remember him."

He paused and canted his head.

"Last name....I...I do not know of that concept. We simply have one name. Could you explain it to me?"

Now that it seemed he had a human friend again...for the moment...he could ask when something presented itself that he did not understand.

Centuries. Harold's head would spin if it could. He can't imagine living so long, a human life is nothing compared to that. Winter is but a blink of the eye to Sigma he's sure.

"You've certainly grown into them now." He smiles with a little sniffle. Definitely coming down with a cold.

"I don't blame you for keeping your distance from us, humans don't handle things um... delicately, especially things they don't understand." Most don't, some can. His town being one example.

"Oh well- Harold is my name, the one you call me. Winston is... erm... it's the name for my family, it's how humans keep track of them. Who belongs to which family." That makes sense right? "We all have different first names, well except for me haha, my father was Harold too." A common thing with men pasing down their first names to their sons. He won't get into that. One step at a time.

He could not help but smile a little at that compliment.

"Thank you."

A clawed hand smoothed his hair so that it fell more evenly between his clear, icy horns as he continued to listen.

"So multiple humans in the same family can have the same first name and last name but the last name is always the same but the first name is usually different but can be the same? I think I understand."

He leaned forward at the sniffle.

"It seems you've caught a chill from the mountain. Perhaps we can make you a remedy to shorten its duration, yes?"

He wasn't sure if fae medicine would work on Harold, but it was certainly worth a shot.

Is... is the fae preening at that? Harold would chuckle if he wasn't too busy sniffling again, his nose is going to run away on him.

"I think you've got it in a nutshell. Honestly I think us humans make things needlessly complicated on purpose." And then he's shaking his head a little, tugging the blanket tighter around himself.

"No I think it's just-" A harsh sneeze interrupts him, and he'll look sheepish as he excuses himself, "I've already been a nuisance today, I suppose I should just relent and be a good patient." Harold tries to laugh a little, but it devolves into a bit of coughing.

"Oof, I have to say it's no fun having the tables turned on me like this." Being the patient instead of the healer. He'll be good though, no fussing.

He was. It was silly, especially for a fae of his age. He was still quite proud of his horns. He kept them looking as good as he could. He'd broken one of them when he was younger and since then had been careful to keep them in better condition. To his relief, it had grown back after a few seasons.

He nodded to his right.

"Come this way. We shall see if my medicine works on you."

The two of them made their way through the mountain cavern, passing many glowing crystals in several different colors. They illuminated the space, revealing it to not be a tight cave, but a large open cavern. Hot springs steamed and occasionally geysers would spray. They passed pools with glowing fish and aquatic lizards. They seemed to pay the fae and his guest no mind.

They finally reached a side cavern with a square of ice on the wall. With a wave of his hand, Siebren caused the ice to move away. Beneath its surface were shelves filled with bottles, vials and bowls made from ice. Each contained a different herb or flower.

For fractalsfrozen | Ice Fae Sigma AU

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