We got rid of our coats and shoes then huddled on the bed, sitting with our backs against the wall, still shuddering from the sub-zero mountain air. Or… wherever this was.
Llewellyn rearranged the duvet so that it was sitting on our shoulders; then unfolded the two blankets he'd taken out of his inventory and draped them over our laps and chests.
I melted under them almost immediately.
Penguin let out a chirp of joy and dug under them like a mole.
I laughed, still shuddering.
"So it is true that you have an obsession with cashmere."
Llewellyn gave me an unimpressed look, half ruined by the fact that he was still shivering too. The end of his nose was red from the cold, as were his cheeks.
"I wouldn't say an obsession," he said dismissively, before adding, "It's soft."
Well.
I patted Penguin, who was letting out delighted noises of relief.
How can a penguin be so cold? Honestly.
The cabin was chilly, but definitely better than outside.
"How long will this take?"
"If we're lucky hours," Llewellyn said. "If we're unlucky, a couple of days."
…Days?!
What about work?!
I tried to focus on the positive; at least we weren't freezing.
From where we sat huddled on the bed, I could see a door leading to what was likely a bathroom off to one side. Shelves lined one wall, filled with books.
"There's likely food and water," Llewellyn said. "Basic supplies. If we can survive the cold, we should be fine."
I hummed.
Outside, the wind howled louder, rattling the windows. The storm was intensifying.
Penguin had settled between us, warm under the cashmere blanket.
We sat in companionable silence for a while, the cabin creaking and groaning as the storm raged outside. My fingers and toes tingled painfully as they slowly thawed.
Penguin had started snoring softly, his little body rising and falling, his head barely poking out from the blankets.
"Your creature seems comfortable," Llewellyn observed, looking amused.
"He's not usually this clingy. I think Distorted Realms really scare him."
Now that I thought about it, I supposed Distorted Realms were probably terrifying places to come to life and gain sentience for the first time. I hadn't thought about it that way before.
I glanced at Llewellyn. The flush of cold had faded from his cheeks. He looked tired, but still alert, eyes surveying the cabin.
Exhaustion was creeping in, making my thoughts fuzzy. I'd only had a few hours of sleep before I was summoned by the System and after so much physical exertion, I was struggling to keep my eyes open.
"You should sleep," Llewellyn said, as if reading my mind. "I'm not as cold now. I can take the chair. You take the bed."
I looked at the small chair near the empty fireplace and frowned.
"That chair's too small for you to sleep in."
Besides, without a fire the cabin was still cold.
Llewellyn shrugged. "I've slept in worse conditions."
Do I need to shake him? That 67% probability of lethal outcome started to make more and more sense.
"I'm not going to be responsible for you freezing to death. You saw the System notification. We could... I mean, we're already sharing the bed. It's big enough."
As soon as my words were out, nerves kicked in. Was it fine for me to say this? I didn't want to make it weird. After the training, he'd probably feel weird about it.
Llewellyn's expression didn't change, but his stare was suddenly on me, assessing. "If you're comfortable with that," he said finally.
Me?
"We both need rest," I said, in lieu of a proper answer, "and this way we don't need to split the blankets between us."
And… well. The System had highly recommended sharing body heat and so on.
Llewellyn nodded once.
Right.
We laid down, both on our sides, facing each other, with Penguin lying between us.
Penguin chirped happily, as if approving of this arrangement, then abandoned me to burrow into Llewellyn's sweater.
"You traitor," I said, scowling at him.
The corners of Llewellyn's lips quirked up and he looked down at his sweater.
"Cashmere," he said.
"Seriously? Is all your gear made of this?"
Llewellyn didn't deign that of a reply, but did look up at me with an amused smile.
Uh. My stomach did something weird.
I looked away, watching Penguin pressing closer to Llewellyn. The traitor looked completely content.
"Animals usually like me," Llewellyn said. "Though he probably doesn't qualify as an animal."
I hummed, tiredness seeping deep into my bones.
The overhead light had softened Llewellyn's features. I'd only ever seen him in the middle of combat or focused or tense about something. He looked different like this. Less on guard.
"What?" Llewellyn asked, catching me staring.
"Nothing." I looked away. "You should sleep. I can keep watch, if you want."
The corner of his mouth quirked up slightly. "Watch for what? Snowmen?"
Was he serious?
"For whatever the Knot might throw at us next, obviously." Especially since the System didn't seem to be working. The System interface was still glitching.
Llewellyn shook his head. "The System's just trying to stabilize. We're safe enough here."
Penguin chirped between us as if he agreed.
"Let's just sleep," Llewellyn said simply, closing his eyes.
***
When I woke up, the soft morning light filtered through the cabin windows.
Llewellyn was still asleep beside me, his face relaxed.
I had never woken up next to someone. It hit weirdly hard.
Penguin had abandoned me completely during the night, and was now curled up against Llewellyn's chest, snoring softly.
How long had I slept? When the System first summoned us it had been morning, but when we'd got to the cabin it had been night—and now it was morning again. Maybe time flowed differently here. At least I hoped so, or I had missed my day off and spent it in a Distorted Realm.
I should get up. Check the supplies. See if the System interface was working yet. Check my phone and, if I had connection, get in touch with work or something.
Do something useful instead of lying here staring at Llewellyn.
But the blankets were warm, while the air around me was cold, and outside the window, I could still see snow falling.
This was likely never going to happen again, so— Was it too bad if I enjoyed it a bit longer?
I brought my eyes back to Llewellyn and sighed a bit. Did he have to be this good looking?
"You can get up if you want to," Llewellyn said without opening his eyes.
Ah, damn it. I froze.
Had he noticed I'd been—?
"How long have you been awake?"
"Not long," Llewellyn said, opening his eyes now and staring back at me.
Well. Didn't matter how you looked at it, this was embarrassing. Even if he wasn't clearly lying.
Llewellyn sat up carefully, cradling Penguin who made a small chirping sound of protest as he was set back down on the bed.
"We should try lighting the fireplace again. I'll check if there's anything for breakfast."
The cabin was freezing. I immediately regretted leaving the warmth of the blankets. I grabbed one and wrapped it around my shoulders like a cape.
Llewellyn reached out and did the same.
Penguin blinked sleepily before hopping up and waddling over to inspect the cold logs. He circled them once, twice, then transformed into his fire fox form and looked up at me, as if asking for permission.
"Go ahead," I encouraged. "Just the logs, though."
A few moments later, the fire caught properly, crackling to life.
Penguin bounced back, chirping excitedly, clearly pleased with himself. He turned back into a Penguin and started running circles around my feet.
I laughed.
"Good job," I said, reaching down to pet him. "You're really the best, aren't you?"
Llewellyn returned from the kitchen, his blanket still wrapped tightly around him. "The stove's still not working," he reported, then paused when he saw the fire. "I see your little friend came through."
I grinned. "He's pretty proud of himself." Penguin preened under the attention.
Llewellyn watched Penguin with a thoughtful expression.
"It's strange," he said. "Pure Elemental Magic shouldn't have emotions, yet he clearly does."
He was probably thinking of our conversation at the promenade, the other day.
I hummed in agreement.
"I found some eggs and bread in the kitchen that are safe to eat," Llewellyn said. "The stove won't light, though."
I looked down at Penguin, who perked up immediately.
"Penguin can help with that too. He's actually pretty good at cooking."
Llewellyn gave me an unimpressed look. "You named him Penguin?"
Ah. Okay, I forgot I hadn't told him.
"It was his choice. Whenever I asked about names, he kept turning into a penguin. I told him it was ridiculous, but he kept flopping over dramatically until I gave in."
Llewellyn didn't look more impressed after my explanation, but he did look like he was trying not to laugh.
Well.
With Penguin's fire blazing in the fireplace, the cabin was warming up quickly. Llewellyn vanished his blanket into his inventory, so I threw mine at him too, but he threw it back immediately.
What?
"Keep it," he said.
Huh?
"That's not necessary."
"You've been fondling it the whole time," Llewellyn said, amused. "I have more at home. You can keep it."
I hadn't been—
Well. It was soft.
I put it away in my own inventory.
Llewellyn turned his attention to Penguin, who was eyeing the kitchen with interest.
"Alright," Llewellyn said. "Let's see what you can do."