Everlasting dream (18+)

Chapter 163 — Isn’t she lovely?

[Aster]

Somewhere in the endless, snow-covered woods, where roads were little more than suggestions carved through the trees, Aster let out a long, dramatic sigh. Pines towered over them, their branches weighed down by winter, blocking out the late afternoon sun. Bushes, hills of snow, and more pines stretched into the distance, every view identical to the last.

He kicked at the mound of fluffy snow that dared to be in his way, sending a spray of ice crystals into the air. "This is the worst," he grumbled for the tenth time today, yanking at the skirt of the dark grey dress that he wore. It was better than rags, yes, but... a dress! The kind that swishes when you spin around, all the way down to his ankles, making him feel like some sort of princess with every step he took.

And it didn't help that his hair was done up in those silly, complicated braids, woven with strips of cloth. The silver strands were tucked in a way so no pointed ears would peek out—something that Nivalis came up with and insisted on—ending in a thick rope that rested on his right shoulder, heavy and ridiculous.

In front of him, his mother and sister exchanged a tired glance, one he knew well. The "he's being like this again, just ignore it, and he'll quiet down" look. Just like him, they wore the clothes from that night at the orphanage, yet somehow they managed to look... well, not ridiculous. Beautiful even, all warm and comfortable, the fabric both hides and flatters all the right places. Nivalis, in her faded-brown dress, and Silvia, in her grey one, their hair braided the same way as his, with the only difference that on them, it looked right.

Aster sighed again and kicked at another mound of snow, the air turning white in front of his face before disappearing into the gray afternoon. 'Well, at least there's no sled to pull anymore,' he thought, giving his nose a tiny wipe with the sleeve of the dress. No more icy spears either. Both sled and spears had been left behind somewhere along the way, hidden in the snow and forgotten, all to make them look just like a poor, harmless family walking on the road.

Kicking a third mound with a little too much force, Aster nearly tripped when the fabric of his dress tangled around his legs, sending him stumbling forward before he caught himself with a slight hop.

"Honey, stop that. It's not that different from your old sk..." Nivalis began, catching herself before she finished the word he didn't like. Skirt. Her steps didn't pause, the snow crunching rhythmically under old leather boots as she continued down the trail. "...half-cloak. Same length."

The boy huffed at that, a little cloud of frustration escaping him. "No, it's not. Two absolutely different things," he shot back, but didn't say more, and just trudged on, shoulders slumped, the soft wool of the dress dragging through the snow behind him. He kept his grumpy silence for a good while, with his hands hidden in the pockets of the dress, which was the only thing he actually liked about the new clothes, occasionally kicking at the snow.

Until they eventually reached a nice-looking spot to rest, a small clearing with a large fallen log that they could sit on. "Here looks good enough. Let's stop and warm up a bit," Nivalis said, dropping the bag with their belongings off her shoulder and onto the snow with a soft thud before pulling out the rusty knife from her boot. Without another word, she then turned to the fallen tree and began cutting branches for a fire, while the kids snapped off all the thinner ones around her. Same old routine, different scenery.

It didn't take them long to gather enough for a small fire, after which they spent another few minutes clearing the snow from the ground right next to the log. The pile of branches went onto the cleared spot, and with a quick flick of his scarred wrist, Aster set alight everything they had gathered, the small, cheerful flame instantly licking at the rotten wood.

Nivalis sighed as she plopped down onto the log, rubbing her tired thighs for a moment before pulling the grumpy boy onto her lap. "Come here, you," she murmured, putting his legs to the side and giving his skirt a little tug to smooth it out, which earned her a quiet grumble from him. "There we go... now shhh," Nivalis added, gently kissing his silver braids before pressing his face into her bosom.

Silvia sat down on the log right next to them, bringing her numb hands close to the fire with a soft hum of relief. "Oh, this feels nice," she murmured, wiggling her fingers.

Aster fidgeted for a few moments on his mother's lap, trying to get comfortable, then went quiet and just rested in the softness of her breasts. Her cold hand moved up to cup his cheek, gently stroking the smooth skin of it, while the other went down to his waist and pulled him even closer until there was no space left between them.

After a little while, Nivalis murmured into his hair, "Feeling better now?" His head shook against her chest with a faint, muffled grumble that she felt more than heard. "It's been two weeks, sweetie. Is it really that bad?" she asked with a quiet sigh, patting his pouty face.

Pulling away from her chest, Aster looked up at her, his golden eyes meeting hers. "Yes," he answered, making her chuckle softly. "Look at me," he then said, tugging at the dress. Nivalis's eyes fell to the rough, grey wool that clung to his skinny frame, and then back at his pouting face. She didn't say anything, just pressed his face back into her bosom, silencing any further whining with her soft breasts, the boy's nose disappearing entirely.

It's been two weeks, indeed. Two long weeks of walking along roads and trails through the snow-covered forest, going farther south, away from the orphanage and that village, avoiding any other settlements or people along the way.

There was a good chance someone might come after them, after what happened that night, so they decided to get as far from that place as possible before approaching anyone else, to give it enough time to cool down. Whenever they saw smoke in the distance, they went the other way, all while living off what little they could hunt in the forest, just like they did before.

Aster hardly thought about his clothes at all, at least not at first. He was too focused on his mother, who felt terribly guilty about the whole orphanage situation. He did his best to cheer her up by reminding her that we didn't take much, that we needed it to survive, that those kids would be okay, and they have a bunch of neighbors to rely on, and so on.

He kept repeating that until she eventually began to believe them, until she stopped crying at night and started smiling more. And Silvia wasn't any better, so Aster had his hands full caring for both of his girls. Even though he felt just as bad about what they had done—stealing from an orphanage, of all places—he tried not to show any of it; he just buried it somewhere deep inside him and focused on them.

But once they got better, his attention shifted back to what he wore. The feeling of the skirt brushing against his thighs, the way it swayed with every step, the way the braid tugged at his scalp... it all started to annoy him more and more with each passing day.

And he was usually quiet about it, knowing full well that it's for his own good unless he wishes to get thrown into some meat grinder of a war, without a single chance of making it out of it alive. But some days were just... too much. Today was one of those days. Not knowing when he'd be able to wear proper clothes again, or whether he would ever, was the worst of all.

Opening his golden eyes again, Aster looked down at the dark grey wool on his lap and asked quietly, his voice barely audible above the crackle of the fire, "It's not for... forever, right? Me, wearing girls' clothes." His gaze then shifted to the dancing flames, their orange glow reflecting in his slightly watery eyes.

For a few moments, the only answer was the crackling of the wood in them and the rustle of pine branches all around. Nivalis's hand moved to the boy's head, her fingers gently stroking his silver head, careful not to disturb the braids she had so painstakingly woven that morning. "No, sweetie. Not forever," she murmured, her blue eyes fixed on the fire as well. "We'll think of something. I promise."

With a tiny, "O-okay..." Aster rested his head against her shoulder with a quiet, muffled sigh. "Can I at least... take it off while we rest?" he then asked, picking at the dress and glancing up at her. The look on his face was one of pure pleading, long eyelashes fluttering against his soft cheeks. "It's been a while since we last saw smoke, so... it should be safe here," he added.

Nivalis hesitated for a heartbeat or two, looking down at him, then towards the path they had come from, to the empty forest around them, then back to her son's hopeful face. Then, with a quiet sigh, she gave a slight nod. "Alright. Just for a little while," she said, helping him get up from her lap and onto his feet.

The boy immediately started fumbling with the dress, trying to get it over his head as quickly as possible, but Nivalis shushed him, "Stay still! You're going to mess up your hair." One hand went to the hem of his dress, the other to his braids, carefully holding them away as she helped him slip out of the confining wool.

Once the dress was off, Aster stood before the fire in just his underclothes—a plain brown tunic with delicate embroidered flowers around the collar and a pair of mud-colored pants that hugged his form a little too snugly around the rear. The boy let out a relieved sigh, stretching his arms above his head with a little groan, his expression finally softening for the first time today.

That didn't last long, however, because a muffled chuckle came from his right. He turned his head to see his sister trying to hide a smile behind her hand. "Don't," was all he said, pointing a finger at her.

Silvia lowered her hand, the smirk on her face still very much there. "I didn't say anything," she said innocently, her golden eyes twinkling in the firelight as she looked him over from head to toe, slowly so.

— "Mom... She's doing it again!" Aster whined like a little girl, not helping himself at all, and turned to his mother with a pout.

It took everything in Nivalis not to chuckle at that, too. She pressed her lips into a thin line to stop the smile from blooming on her face and cleared her throat. "Silvia, be nice. We talked about this," she said, her expression serious, but her eyes gave her away. Then she looked at Aster and added, "And you, don't pay her any mind. Come here, sit down," she added, patting her lap.

The boy listened and plopped down onto her lap with a little huff, while Silvia just smirked at him from the side. He ignored that and just wiggled himself against her, the mud-colored pants rustling against her faded-brown dress until he found just the right spot. Then, resting his head against her shoulder, he closed his golden eyes and breathed. 'Just a normal guy... chilling by a fire. Yup, that's me,' he thought, his hands going to rest on top of her thighs.

The silence settled over the three of them, filled with the same soft crackle and rustle of branches in the wind. A nice kind of silence, the one where no one speaks because there's no need to, the one that doesn't feel weird or awkward.

They just sat there like that for a good while, with Nivalis stroking her son's hair, occasionally adjusting a braid here and there, and Silvia staring into the flames, her legs pulled up to her chest and her chin resting on her knees. The late-afternoon sun, fluffy clouds, dancing flames, tall pines, and soft wind, the faint thud of hooves in the distance.

A frown instantly formed on Aster's face, and he lifted his head slightly from his mother's shoulder. 'Wait... hooves?' he thought, blinking slowly as he tried to make sense of the sound. "I think I heard something?" he asked, pushing himself up slightly on her lap, his eyes darting towards the road they had just walked down.

Nivalis's hand immediately stilled in his hair, her posture straightening as she shut her eyes tight and did her thing, a single heartbeat after Aster spoke. "Shit, shit, shit..." she whispered the very next, her eyes flying open with a wide, panicked look in them. "Someone's coming. On a horse."

The three of them scrambled to their feet in a frenzy, kicking snow over their fire and grabbing their things. No longer than ten seconds later, they were running away from the road, tripping and stumbling in their haste. "Quick, get in there! Hide!" Nivalis hushed, pushing her children into the thickest cluster of snow-covered bushes she could find, then followed right after them, the scratchy branches scraping against her face and arms.

Just when they settled in there, the thudding of hooves in the snow grew loud enough to hear clearly, getting closer and closer until it was right where they had their small fire just a moment ago. Then it stopped. "Who's there?!" a deep, gruff voice called out from the road, the words muffled by the bushes.

They all went utterly still, even their breaths caught in their throats. The familiar heat of mana began to build in Aster's chest as he held onto his sister's hand, her fingers trembling in his, while Nivalis wrapped her arms around both of them, pulling them closer to her. Pain, unlike any other, followed right after, but he pushed through it, just like always.

"Gods above, this is the worst ambush attempt I've ever seen," the same gruff voice sighed, then called out again, "I know you're in there, so come on out before I decide to get angry. Old Bessie here..." A soft whinny of a horse followed. "She won't think twice about stomping your sorry asses into the ground."

That made Aster swallow hard, his mind instantly coming up with the image of a gigantic, meaty horse that wildly kicks around with its hooves. Stopping that with his fire would be anything but easy. His heartbeat sped up, each thud igniting more and more mana in his chest.

Nivalis squeezed her children tighter, her fingers digging into their small shoulders as she debated whether to make a run for it or not. Then, with a deep, shaky breath, came a quiet, "Alright... we've been preparing for something this. We'll try talking." Aster and Silvia both looked up at her, nervous golden eyes wide. "Just... be polite. Don't speak unless spoken to. Let me do the talking, but be ready... in case something goes wrong."

After getting two hesitant nods from her kids, Nivalis took another deep breath to steel herself, then called back, "W-we... we mean no harm! We're coming out!" But that was only then, after she finished speaking, that she noticed she was still holding Aster's dress in her hand. "Your dress! Quickly!" she whispered, and before the boy could even protest, put it over his head and helped him get his arms through the holes in clumsy haste.

All the while, the man on the road waited, frowning at the bush in the distance from where the voice had come. Not a young man, with a face weathered by a lifetime of sun and wind, wrinkles etched around his squinting, pale-blue eyes. His hair, once blond, was now more grey than anything else, thin and stringy, framing a high forehead. A few days' worth of stubble covered his jaw and chin, partially hidden behind a thick, woolen scarf.

A heavy, brown coat hung over his lean frame, worn at the elbows, with a fur collar turned up against the cold. Warm-looking pants were tucked into scuffed leather boots, caked with mud and snow up to the knees. In his hands—gloved ones, the leather dark and cracked—he held the reins of a sturdy-looking mare, her breath misting in the cold air as she shifted from hoof to hoof.

Despite his tough words, the old man didn't look particularly threatening. Even less so when that frown of his turned into a confused, then concerned expression as he watched a woman and two young girls step out from the bushes, brushing snow from their dresses. All three looked sickly gaunt, with faces so pale they almost blended with the snow around them. "Oh, dear lords..." he couldn't help but mutter, then called to them, "What are you girls doing all the way out here? Dressed like that?"

With his heart thudding wildly against his dress, Aster hid behind his mother, staying silent like he was told to, while Nivalis stepped forward a bit. "We... we were just resting by the fire, sir. We're on our way to... to our relatives," she answered, her voice trembling slightly despite her best efforts to keep it steady. "We didn't know who might be coming, so we got scared and hid. We didn't mean to cause any trouble."

The old man waved away her apology with a gloved hand. "No, no, don't be sorry. It's the right thing to do, out here in the middle of nowhere. But... are you alright? You three look like you haven't eaten in a week," he said, looking from one small girl to another, then at the woman standing between them, his pale eyes soft with concern.

Nivalis forced a weak smile onto her face, her hands nervously smoothing down the front of her dress. "We're... fine. Just a long journey," she answered, not quite meeting his gaze. Aster noticed how she kept glancing towards the forest behind them, as if planning their escape route. Silvia was no better, one hand in the pocket of her dress, where she had a few icicles hidden away, sharp and deadly.

The old man noticed the glances, but he just shook his head with a quiet sigh. "Don't worry, dear. I'm not going to hurt you. Name's Tomas," he said, then nodded towards the road. "There's an inn not too far from here. Well... not that far on a horse, my wife and I run it. It's not the fanciest place out there, but we've got warm food and beds. You look like you could use both." He then let go of the reins and carefully dismounted, his old boots crunching in the snow. The horse snorted at him when he did, but otherwise stayed still.

"Thank you for the offer, but... w-we don't have coin for any of it," Nivalis said with a polite shake of her head, one arm wrapping around Aster, pulling him closer to her. "It's very kind of you, but we'll manage."

Tomas waved away her words again. "I didn't ask for a coin, did I? Don't worry about that. I can't just leave three girls out here in this cold. My wife would have my head if I did," he said, patting the horse's neck for a moment, before shifting his gaze to the two sisters shying behind their mother's skirt and giving them a warm, grandfatherly smile. "Hey there, sweeties. What are your names?" he gently asked them. "Have you ever ridden a horse before? Would you like to try?"

Silvia was the first to answer, after a tiny moment of hesitation, she whispered her name so softly the wind nearly stole the words away. "Silvia." To his question about riding, she gave a slight shake of her head, silver braid swaying against her shoulder. Tomas gave her a soft smile in return, then turned to Aster, waiting expectantly.

The boy swallowed hard, his throat tight as he realized they had forgotten to come up with a name for him, probably the most important thing of all. His eyes darted from the old man to his mother, a silent 'What should I say?!' reflecting in them.

Just as panic began to show on his face, Nivalis's arm tightened around him, and she spoke, "Sorry, she's a little shy. This is Asteria, or just Asty for short." Her fingers pressed into his shoulder, a subtle warning to just go along with it. "As for me, Nivalis. Thank you again, Tomas, for your kindness."

Aster's face flushed hot at the name, but he managed a tiny, almost nonexistent nod at the old man. Tomas's smile widened, "Asteria, after the flower I believe? I think I heard once of it. A beautiful name for a beautiful young lady," he said, then looked at Silvia again. "And Silvia, just as lovely." After that, he turned to Nivalis, a simple "Well...", misting his face for a brief moment. "Now, how about that ride? Bessie here is as gentle as a kitten. Aren't you, girl?" he said, patting the horse's nose, only to get his glove nibbled at in return.

...