| Gwen And Now - Chapter 5
“Gwen!”
Nathel dove toward the edge of the hole in the ice, his heart pounding as Gwen splashed into the frigid waters of the lake and disappeared beneath the surface for several long, agonizing moments. Dropping to his knees and plunging his arms in after her, Nathel searched frantically for her, for her hand or wrist or anything he could hold onto. The water was bitterly cold, and his fingers began to grow numb almost at once. Gwen wouldn't last long in there, he knew. She would freeze to death if he didn't get her out within the next few minutes.
Suddenly he felt something seize his hand, and he pulled back as hard as he could, grabbing onto Gwen with both hands as she finally resurfaced, sputtering and splashing and gasping for air. Nathel pulled her out of the water and onto the ice, where she collapsed onto her stomach and coughed up a mouthful of water, shaking and shivering uncontrollably, her breath coming in a series of short, shallow gasps. But there was no time to linger. The air was growing colder, and the storm fiercer. The wind howled, whipping past Nathel's face in chilly gusts as the snow fell faster and faster. There was no way he and Gwen could reach the Eye now.
Helping Gwen struggle to her feet, Nathel took off his cloak and wrapped it around her, not liking how constantly she was shivering and trembling, nor how pale her skin was becoming. She was soaked, and that would only make it worse for her. Nathel started to shiver himself and slipped his arm around Gwen's shoulder, both to keep her from stumbling and to share some of the heat from his body. She looked at him. “Th-Th-Thank y-you, Nathel. B-But won't you b-b-be c-cold, t-t-too?”
“I'll be alright,” he answered, leading her back toward the shore. He wished it were true, but he saw no reason to tell her that. His armor would help keep out the chill, but not for very long. Somehow, he and Gwen had to find shelter, and soon.
“W-What are w-w-we g-going to d-d-do now?”
Nathel thought there might still be a chance for them. “There's a cave near here, Gwen. I remember seeing it when I first came out here earlier. I think we'll be alright in there.”
“I-I hope s-s-s-so,” she said, her teeth chattering.
It didn't take too long to find the cave once they reached the shore. It was just up the ridge a bit, a yawning mouth in the hillside nearly hidden by a cluster of towering pine trees. As he and Gwen passed beneath them and approached the entrance, Nathel let go of her shoulder and motioned for her to go on inside. “Can you make it the rest of the way by yourself? I need to find some wood for a fire. We have to stay warm—you especially—or we won't make it through the night.”
“Y-Yes, I th-think so,” she nodded.
“Alright. Don't go too far inside, though. Wait for me. I won't be long.”
While Gwen made her way into the cave, Nathel turned his attention to the nearby trees. The branches were soaked and covered with snow, and most of the fallen pine cones and twigs he found were just as wet. He found a few that were only damp, though, scattered here and there near the trunks of the evergreens, and so he scooped them up and stuffed them in his pack. Only kindling, though. He had to find some real wood, but where? Ignoring the cold as best he could, he walked along the ridge and searched the trees, dozens of them, and not one had branches dry enough to break off and use. And the fallen wood around them was no better off. Most of it was blanketed with snow.
And the storm was getting worse. As bad as it was, with the wind shrieking in his ears now and the snow starting to sweep down around him, he knew it wasn't even at half its full strength yet. But it would be, and soon. Nathel shivered and decided that if he didn't find anything within the next few minutes, he would head back with what little he had and join Gwen in the cave.
He was just about to turn around and do just that after finding only a bit more kindling when he spotted a fallen tree lying in half-buried in the snow. But there was a bare patch of ground near the bottom of one end where insects had eaten away the wood some time ago and left a deep hollow along the trunk's underside. And lying on the ground beneath that hollow, sheltered somewhat from the falling snow, were a handful of broken branches that must have snapped off when the tree had hit the ground. Probably it had been struck by lightning during another storm, Nathel wasn't sure. Nor did he care. The branches were mostly dry, at least for a good part of their length, and not so thick that he couldn't snap them into smaller pieces to better serve as firewood. He did so, stuffed them into his pack, and hurried back to the cave.
Gwen was there, just inside as he had told her. She looked up as he entered. “Nathel! D-Did you f-find a-a-anything?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Let's move in a bit further, though.”
He led her deeper into the cave. It wasn't large, only about fifty feet or so at its deepest point, but it would do. Gwen sat down, still shivering, near the back wall while Nathel knelt nearby, slid his pack from his shoulders, and took out all the wood he had collected along with his flint and tinder. He piled up a few of the broken branches along with some of the damp kindling, then lit it. Soon enough, he had a small fire burning, its welcome heat spreading through the cave.
Nathel stretched out his hands toward it and let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. “We might just make it after all, Gwen. Don't you think?”
“Y-Yes,” she said, “but I-I'm still c-c-cold.”
She was still clutching herself and shivering despite the fire, and Nathel thought he knew why. He rummaged through his pack, hoping what he was looking for was there. It was. He usually kept a spare set of clothes in there just in case he was out in the wild longer than he expected. Just a tunic and leggings, but it was better than leaving her in her own soaked clothes. He took out his folded garments and handed them to Gwen. “Here. They'll be a little big for you, I'm afraid, but they're dry.”
She managed a weak smile. “Th-Thank you, Nathel. Now t-t-turn around. Or did you p-p-plan to watch me undress?”
“No, no,” he said, his cheeks turning pink. “I, uh... I”ll just wait over here.”
He walked over to the other side of the fire and sat down with his back to Gwen, his blood suddenly very hot in his veins. It didn't help much that aside from the crackling of the fire and the distant wailing of the storm outside, he could hear the rustling of fabric behind him as Gwen took off her wet clothes and put on the dry ones he had given her. He looked at the cave wall, at the flickering shadows dancing across it, and tried without much success to calm his racing heart.
A moment later, he heard Gwen's voice. “You can look now, Nathel.”
He did so, turning around so that he was facing her now, and as he had thought, his extra clothes had been a little too big for her. But that was alright. It would help her keep her hands and feet warm, since he'd had no extra boots or gloves to give her and her own were still soaked along with the rest of her clothes. She had lain them out near the fire so they could dry, and now she slipped on his cloak again and sat down close to the fire.
Nathel moved over to sit next to her. “Better?”
“Yes, much,” she nodded. “Thank you. I feel much warmer now.”
“You're welcome, Gwen.”
He shivered despite the fire's growing heat, his armor not quite able to keep out the lingering chill in the air. Nathel glanced toward the mouth of the cave and saw that snow was piling up in deep drifts and swirling through the air in heavy sheets. It would probably be blocked up by morning. But there was nothing he could do about that now. At least they had enough wood to keep the fire going. He would be a little cold tonight without his cloak, but he didn't mind. Gwen needed it more than he did. And even if she hadn't fallen in the lake, he would have given it to her anyway.
Nathel sat with his back against the cave wall, and he was just resting for a moment when he felt Gwen pressing against him, the warmth of her body next to his driving the chill from his body and the thoughts from his mind. Gods, she was so close. He couldn't take his eyes from her. Nor did he want to. He let her lift his arm up and place it around her shoulders as she she wrapped her own around his. She really was beautiful. Why hadn't he ever seen it before? Why hadn't he allowed himself to see it?
Perhaps, he realized, because before, he had always seen her as the little girl he had once known, a little sister like Alanna. But not anymore. She wasn't a child anymore. She was a woman. A strong, beautiful young woman that Nathel had fallen deeply in love with. But he had hurt her, too. He had never meant to, but through his absence when she had needed him the most, she had suffered so much. Nathel had done everything he could to heal the pain the Charr had inflicted upon her, but he knew that she would never be as she once was.
“Stay close to me, Nathel,” Gwen said. “You need to stay warm, too.”
He nodded. “I will, Gwen. Thank you.”
“It's the least I could do. Besides, being close to you like this helps me stay warm, too. If... if we stay like this all night, the cold won't touch us. The fire, and our body heat, will keep it away.”
She spread his cloak over both of them as much as she could, and Nathel's other hand found hers. He had never touched it before without her glove covering it. The softness of her skin heated his blood, and butterflies swam in his stomach as he felt her fingers clasp his. They were small and slender, a mesmer's fingers, and he loved them. As he loved her.
••••••••••
Sitting in the shade of a tall elm tree, Nathel took another bite of the apple Mary Malone had given him as part of his reward for getting her basket back. She had given him and Gwen each an apple after they had returned with it from the orchard near Fort Ranik. That had been their next stop after dropping off Little Thom's cloak in Green Hills County and talking with Grazden, Farrah Cappo, a necromancer named Kasha, and Duke Barradin. Devona had been uncertain of their loyalty to King Adelbern and so had sent him to subtly test them, but her fears had been unfounded. She had been quite pleased at his report upon their return to Ashford, and from there, he and Gwen had gone on to Regent Valley and Fort Ranik. Duke Barradin had a task for him there, and according to Haversdan, there were two rangers in here that could teach him a few things.
He had only met one so far, Ivor, after about two-thirds of the long walk to Fort Ranik. Nathel had always thought himself a good shot with a bow, but Ivor's skill had put him to shame. Fortunately, the older man had been more than willing to train him for a while and test his marksmanship. In the end, Nathel had learned how to read the wind and fire arrows at point blank range when he had to.
After reaching Fort Ranik, helping Mary, and delivering the duke's message, Nathel had bought himself and Gwen some food from the merchants there. Bread and cheese, mainly, to go with the apples Mary had given them. But it was too nice a day to just sit around inside the keep while they ate. So he had taken Gwen back down the road a bit to a low, grassy hill near one of the tall stone bridges that spanned the river here and there all throughout the valley. From where he and Gwen sat near the top of the wooded slope, they could see for quite a distance in almost any direction they looked.
“It's so pretty,” Gwen said, munching on her own apple and some cheese.
Nathel took a sip from his waterskin and then handed it to her. “Sure is.”
“Thanks. So, what's next?”
“That other ranger is here, too,” Nathel said. “I think I saw him back near Ashford, but I wanted to get our stuff done at the fort first. So after lunch, we'll go see him.”
Gwen drank some water and grinned. “Okay. What's he gonna teach you?”
“I don't know. We'll find out, I guess.”
It was peaceful here, and for a while, Nathel was almost able to forget about the Charr and the battle he had recently fought against them. It had been the first in the four years since they had taken his sister and his home from him. He had been twelve years old when they had killed Alanna. She had only been eight. Nathel didn't think the Charr had meant to kill her—they often used children as slaves—but she had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. In the chaos of the battle, Alanna had been torn from his side by the Charr and had tried to break free, only to be hit by a fire-caller's blast before she could get back to him.
Tossed through the air like the worn-out old doll she had always carried with her, she had hit the ground hard and not gotten back up. She hadn't moved at all. Nathel had tried to get to her, but then a Charr fist had slammed into the side of his head. The world had swum around him, but before he had lost consciousness, he had heard the sound of steel on steel and men yelling battle cries. And then everything had gone black.
He had awoken later and found himself in a small camp with about a dozen men and women in armor and a trio of monks tending the wounded, including himself. One of the monks, a young woman named Lina, had told him as she checked his head and arm that she and the rest had been sent from the Ascalon Vanguard to help evacuate the refugees of Surmia and the surrounding villages. Nathel had looked around for Alanna, hoping against hope that she was somehow still alive, but she hadn't been there.
Almost afraid to know the answer, he had asked Lina about her. She hadn't been that much older than him, Nathel remembered. Lina had only been about seventeen or eighteen at the time and the youngest of the three healers in the group. But she had spotted Alanna's crumpled form amongst the tangled bodies of some of the other refugees that she and Nathel had been traveling with. There had been no time to see to the dead, however, for there had still been too many Charr nearby. But almost an hour after the attack, the Vanguard patrol had sent out a burial detail to lay the fallen to rest. Lina had taken Nathel to see the mound not long afterward, and it was there that he had said his goodbye to Alanna and sworn to make the Charr pay.
Since then, he had kept up his training, practicing his archery and survival skills every day. Although at first he had been obsessed with hurting the Charr as they had hurt him, Nathel had eventually come to understand the difference between vengeance and justice, although it hadn't been easy for him to accept at first. But he hadn't been alone. Lina and her father had taken him in after the attack, and over the last few years she had helped him let go of his need for revenge. Now, all he wanted to do was protect his family, his homeland, and his people from anyone or anything that sought to harm them.
As he finished his apple, Nathel glanced at Gwen. He hadn't told her, but when he had realized during the battle at the gate that she was there and that the Charr knew it, it had scared the hell out of him. Memories of the past, of Alanna, had flashed through his mind, and it had seemed like that terrible day was happening all over again. Nathel had forgotten about Rurik and the soldiers. All he had seen was Gwen, diving away from the fire-caller's blast and trembling with fear. The next moment had been a blur of fear and adrenaline and near-panic as Nathel had nearly emptied his quiver into the Charr spellcaster, arrow after arrow flying from his bow and into the hulking beast's back and side. It hadn't been until Gwen had rushed into his arms and told him she was alright that Nathel's heart had finally slowed its frenetic beat.
“Are you ready to go?” Nathel asked, his thoughts returning to the present.
Gwen nodded, polishing off the last of her apple. “Yeah! Thanks for the picnic, Nathel. It was fun!”
“You're welcome, Gwen. I liked it, too.”
Rising to his feet, Nathel gathered up their things, stuffing them into his pack and leaving nothing behind to show he and Gwen had ever been there. They walked on down the hill, Nathel with his bow in hand and Gwen with her flute pressed against her lips as she played a merry tune. Butterflies flew amongst the flowers and the tall grass, and the sun hung high in the afternoon sky. Higher than it had been, Nathel thought. He would have to leave soon. Sir Tydus would be expecting him before long.
Nathel and Gwen walked back down the winding road toward Ashford, and before too long, they found the second ranger. Nente was his name, and he wanted Nathel to go back up the road a little and befriend one of the stalkers roaming the nearby woods near the shrine of Melandru. Rangers often traveled with an animal companion, and it was one of the things he had been looking forward to most in his training. When he had been a boy, his father had taught him a little bit about how to communicate with animals, how to understand them and learn from them. The big black grizItalic textzly bear his father had known had almost been like another family member in those quiet days before Nathel had seen them leave to go fight in the guild war. They had never returned.
It didn't take long for Nathel to find one of the stalkers Nente had spoken of. This one was a little bigger than average, with brown and black spotted fur and watchful, amber eyes that followed his every move. Motioning for Gwen to stay back a few steps and put her flute away for now―the sound of it might startle the big cat―Nathel approached the animal one slow, delicate step at a time, his bow slung over his back and his hands open. The cat inched forward, curious, and Nathel stopped, letting it draw closer of its own accord. It sniffed his hand, its nose wet and cool and its whiskers tickling his fingers.
A moment later, the big cat sat down, and Nathel relaxed. He scratched between its ears and glanced back at Gwen. “It's okay now, Gwen. Come here and say hi.”
“Really?” she asked.
“Yeah. It won't bite. I promise.”
She walked over to him. “Is it a boy or a girl?”
“A boy,” Nathel said.
Gwen reached out and touched the big cat's broad shoulder, her fingers sliding lightly across the dark fur. “Wow, he's so soft! What are you going to call him?”
“I don't know. What do you think?”
“Me?” Gwen blinked. “How about... Whisper? Since he moves so quiet and all.”
Nathel smiled. “I like it.”
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