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Chapter Twenty-Five

Varen

This was what he hated most about traveling. Of course, traveling in the snow was never pleasant; but it all felt a little extra miserable to Varen, knowing how much of this mess could have been avoided. He was constantly cold, yet always sweating with effort; by midday, his legs were sore, and his back ached. It was just as much of a struggle, if not more, for Korik; so there wasn’t much conversation to be had. To make matters worse, he was running low on arrows and wasn’t confident in his ability to make more with the kind of wood that surrounded them.

The landscape was beautiful, at least, and while it was cold, the skies remained mostly clear. They would occasionally get small flurries in the morning, but nothing that prevented them from traveling. Still, it was hard to enjoy the beauty of nature surrounding them when he was constantly tired, hungry, and worrying that their luck might run out. The weather could turn on them at any time.

And yet, despite all the hardship both mental and physical, his cock always perked up when they made camp for the night—somehow giving him enough energy to bed the orc, no matter the fatigue that weighed on his body the rest of the day. But he had meant what he’d said when he’d told Korik he was open to continuing their arrangement; and Korik hadn’t turned him down yet. It was arguably the most dire situation that he’d ever been in, and somehow he was having more sex now than ever before in his life.

The strange juxtaposition of it all made him laugh if he thought on it too long. How had they ended up like this?

For the first few days after the storm had passed, everything was much the same: they woke; ate whatever rations they had leftover from the night before; Korik would check their upcoming route; then they would get their snow shoes affixed and break camp. They’d walk until there was no more daylight to guide them, foraging and hunting as they went; then would set up camp, eat, and go to bed together. By then, Varen was exhausted enough to sleep soundly until the rising sun on his eyelids stirred him awake.

On the third day, after Korik had used his magic to look ahead, he had a more grim expression than normal as he got to his feet, which immediately set Varen on edge.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. Korik jumped, looking at him with wide eyes.

“I couldn’t find an easy path,” he confessed, shaking his head. “Everything is very steep. But... I think there’s something else we can try.”

“Something else?” Varen asked, frowning. But Korik had already turned away, reaching under his bedroll and blankets for the woven wooden panel that he’d created to help keep the snow out of their den during the storm. It was too large to fit into either of their bags, but Korik had wanted to keep it. The orc had taken to placing it under his bedroll to create an extra layer between his bed and the dirt. When they traveled, he positioned it over his rucksack to keep the snow off.

Korik eyed it for a moment, then looked between it and Varen.

“A sled,” he finally said, gesturing at the panel. “We can use it to get down the slope more easily.”

Varen looked at it for a long moment, unsure if it would be sturdy enough to get both of them down the mountain in one piece; but he couldn’t stop the grin that was splitting his features.

“That sounds fun,” he laughed. Despite his lingering worry, it did have its appeal. Even if it didn’t get them all the way down the mountain, it would ease some of the burden of getting down the steepest part. And if they crashed into something… well, he had seen Korik heal all sorts of injuries now. Plus, with both of them able to use their magic, steering such an unsuitable vessel wouldn’t be too much of a concern.

“Unless you have any better ideas...” Korik prompted, but Varen shook his head.

“Nope. I told you, I’m trusting you with all this,” he said. Korik flushed, nodding; but a small, pleased smile hovered over his lips for a moment before he answered.

“I think this is our best option,” the orc said.

“Then let’s go,” Varen agreed.

They finished packing, then Varen followed Korik until they came across the steep slope that he’d mentioned. Trees were luckily sparse here, and it wasn’t a completely sheer drop; nevertheless, Varen’s heart started to race at the sight of it. It would absolutely be grueling to traverse by foot, if not entirely impossible. The sled would certainly be dangerous, but seemed a more viable option at first glance, than trying to climb down themselves.

Korik hesitated when they arrived, looking at Varen with hesitation.

“Still think it’s a good idea?” he asked, sounding nervous. Varen laughed despite his own mounting anxiety.

“A good idea? No,” he said with a grimace. “But I agree it’s our best bet. Trying to walk down is a worse idea, certainly.”

“We can try to build something sturdier,” Korik offered, but Varen shook his head.

“The sooner we can get down, the better,” he said. “Come on. Let’s just get it over with. Whatever happens, happens.”

Korik looked at him with a strange expression for a long moment. Varen had gotten better at reading the orc’s face in the past few weeks, he thought; but Korik often had a more stoic expression in general, and sometimes Varen still found him difficult to read, like now. He couldn’t quite tell if Korik was afraid, or if he feared that Varen had finally lost whatever sanity he might have been clinging to. Maybe both were true.

“We’re going to die on this mountain if we don’t try,” Varen added, lowering his voice slightly. For all that he resorted to teasing and jokes when he was worried, in this he was entirely serious. “So it doesn’t matter how dangerous. If it has a chance of getting us down the mountain and into kinder territory, it’s better odds than just staying here. Or backtracking. We have to just keep pushing on ahead.”

Korik was still silent for a long moment, absorbing. He took his time to think about what he wanted to say, Varen knew, so he waited until he’d had a moment to collect his thoughts.

“You’re right,” he finally responded, then pulled the wooden panel off his back. “How should we do this, then?”

Varen laughed again. He had been expecting more than a simple ‘you’re right,’ but it seemed fitting considering all they were facing. “Gods, it’s been decades since I’ve been sledding. The bigger person is in the back when it’s two to a sled, right?”

Korik nodded. They took a moment to situate themselves on the makeshift sled: it was a little too wide, but had some flexibility when Varen grabbed the sides. It would be more like trying to slide down the snow in a basket than a true sled, but it was better than nothing. Korik kept his rucksack on his back, but Varen took his off and set it in front of him, using his legs to hold it in place. He leaned back a bit, pressing himself flush to Korik’s chest—he could feel the rapid rhythm of the orc’s heart thudding against his shoulder.

They carefully pushed themselves to where the relatively flat surface gave way to the slope. Korik’s arms were tight and warm around his waist. Varen peered across the slope, mentally mapping the route they would take. Eventually, the clear path curved around the hill, and he couldn’t see anything beyond that, so he could only hope that they could find a path as they went.

“I’ll steer as much as I can,” he said over his shoulder to Korik. “But I’ll need you to lean with me to help, so just follow my lead. If you see something, just call out a direction, and I’ll do what you say. Sounds good?”

Korik nodded. Varen could practically feel the nerves roiling off him. Might as well get it over with, then.

“Here we go,” he called, then pushed them the rest of the way forward. Gravity took over, and they were descending the slope.

They gained speed rapidly, sending adrenaline pounding through Varen’s body. Despite his own fear, he found himself laughing with the rush and whooping as they turned, the momentum throwing their bodies back and forth. The landscape flew by in a blur, and within moments, they were beyond the course that Varen had mapped out. The path narrowed, and he had to think quickly, throwing out his hands and sending bursts of magic out to help make the sharp turns down narrow pathways.

Every bump and rock in the snow sent them jostling up into the air, making his stomach drop each time—he was acutely aware of how tightly Korik was holding onto him. He couldn’t stop himself from laughing from the rush; but between that and the sound of the makeshift sled grinding against the slick snow, he couldn’t tell if Korik was doing anything other than breathing hard and fast behind him.

“Left!” Korik suddenly exclaimed. True to his word, Varen immediately leaned to the left, the orc leaning with him. They banked hard, and he could see that they were going to crash into a bush. As they went sailing away from the path they were on, he saw what Korik must have spotted from his higher perspective: there was a sharp drop and a rocky outcropping jutting up near it. He’d much rather land in a bush, he thought, just before they plunged into the leaves and sticks.

He shouted as wood stabbed and scratched him, the momentum sending them far into the dense brush. But as the adrenaline faded, he took stock of himself, Korik just beside him. The makeshift sled, which had somehow launched itself into the air, was laying upside-down in the snow nearby. He was a little banged up, but it was only superficial scratches.

“You alright?” he panted, somehow still half-laughing. Korik cautiously pushed himself up—his hair was a mess of twigs and leaves, but he seemed mostly unscathed.

“Yes,” he grunted, wincing. “And you?”

“A little roughed up, but nothing too bad,” he chuckled, shaking his head. He didn’t move until Korik had fully extricated himself from the bush. “Look, we landed in a gem berry bush. Thanks for finding us lunch.”

To his surprise, Korik finally did laugh at that—not a little huff or stifled chuckle, but a genuine laugh, which made him grin all the wider.

“We just had breakfast,” Korik protested, but once they had both gotten to their feet and retrieved the sled, they spent a few minutes filling their pockets with berries. They were not quite ripe, but their food reserves could use the bolstering.

The makeshift sled was looking worse for wear, with some holes already worn into the bottom from the friction. There were several trees around them here, so they looked for some long sticks they could affix to it, creating something a bit more akin to a sleigh than a sled. It took some time, but once the modifications were complete, Korik carried the sled through the snow to a more suitable drop-off point. It was still steep, so each step was careful and measured; they didn’t have to go terribly far, but it took a long time.

“Think we’ll make it to the bottom of the mountain on this?” Varen asked as they settled back into position on the sled.

“No,” Korik said flatly. “But it’ll be close. Once we get past this steep point, I think we’ll be able to walk the rest of the way, though.”

“Tonight, maybe?”

“Maybe not. Tomorrow, I think.”

“Damn,” Varen sighed, looking out once again. This part of the mountain was just as steep, but had more trees than the part they’d just sailed through. They would have to be more cautious, but at least the sled was a little more fortified. “Ready?”

Korik nodded, and with a shove, they were flying down the mountainside once again.

Just as Korik said, they didn’t make it all the way to the foot of the mountain on their sled. It was slower going here: more trees meant they had to swerve around to find more convenient paths to follow. They had to make quick stops a few more times to avoid obstacles, but luckily had no more crash landings.

The slope evened out to a more manageable angle just in time; even with the fortifications, their sled was on the verge of falling apart when they finally came to a stop on a smooth plateau. Even Korik thought it was beyond salvaging now, so they left it behind as they continued on foot. It was still slow going with the snow, and the terrain was growing more rocky, but the end was now in sight.

When the sun dipped below the horizon, they set up camp between a cluster of trees, where they were able to clear away the snow without much issue.

“I hate to speak too soon, but gods , I can’t believe we made it,” Varen groaned, when he finally sat down in front of the campfire that was crackling away. He had snagged only two rabbits the whole day, which now roasted over the fire, the smell making his stomach growl. “With any luck, it’ll be just a few days to Solitude.”

Korik nodded, his expression pensive as he looked at the fire. Varen glanced sidelong at him, wondering if the orc was quiet just because he had nothing to say, or if his thoughts were elsewhere. More likely, he was just hungry—if Varen hadn’t eaten enough today, then certainly the orc must have been even more ravenous.

For a moment, he argued internally about whether he should ask Korik what was on his mind. He wanted to know, but the orc was so cautious with his words that even if he did ask, there was no guarantee he would get an answer. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from worrying, so after a moment, he asked gently,

“Everything alright?”

Korik gave a slight start, glancing over at him as if surprised Varen had noticed his worry. The firelight cast long, flickering shadows across his face and made his eyes glow golden with the warmth. Had he ever thought any orc was handsome before Korik?

“Yes,” Korik finally answered, his voice low. “Just hungry.”

He looked away as he said it, so Varen was sure there was more to it than hunger. But if Korik didn’t want to say, he wouldn’t press.

“Me too,” he chuckled. “Hunting tomorrow should be better, I hope.”

“Right,” Korik agreed softly. “Tomorrow.”