A Winter Courtship

Excerpt

“What have you got there, Ethel?” Ulrich patted Ethel’s white coat as she nosed at the spindly pale-green, almost white plants growing in tufts around the base of a tree. “Did you find some reindeer lichen?”

Unsurprisingly, his reindeer didn’t answer; instead, she continued chewing whilst searching for more to eat.

The two stood in the forest just beyond the village of Ores. Not a single cloud floated in the sky above. The weak winter sun bathed the snow-filled forests in a bright, soft light. Around them, the forest lay still and silent. No sound but Ethel’s chewing.

“We should head back soon. I need to work in the smithy.” Ulrich’s breaths rose in puffs before his face.

Ethel kept eating.

“Fine.” Ulrich patted her back. “A couple more minutes, then.” Ulrich rubbed his gloved hands together. “But then we have to go back to the blacksmith. Can’t spend the whole day out here. Even if we might like to.”

Ulrich liked being in the forest. Out here he could just be himself, completely at ease. No one out here to judge him. No one here to think him odd for keeping a pet reindeer. Out here he didn’t struggle to awkwardly chit-chat with others. Out here he wasn’t reminded of how little he connected to those in Ores. In the wintery wilds, it was just Ulrich and Ethel and the serenity and peace the forest gave.

He rested his hand on Ethel’s velvet antler. “Your antlers are much bigger this year.” He marvelled at their size. “Wonder how big they’ll be next year?” Every year in late spring, her antlers dropped. Then they grew back, larger than the year before.

After a few more minutes of grazing, they began down the trail leading to the village.

Ulrich brushed away snowflakes around Ethel’s snout, which had attached when she’d been nosing for lichen.

“Pretty today in the forest.”

Trees stood mostly bare at this time of year. A slight breeze began to blow, causing the treetops to sway and creak.

“It’s nice to be out on such a lovely winter’s day, isn’t it?” Ulrich said to Ethel.

“It is,” a lilting voice answered on the other side of Ulrich.

Ulrich startled, almost falling head first into the snow. A firm hand on his elbow steadied him. He turned towards the voice.

A mountain nymph strolled beside him on the path. The hand on his elbow prompted Ulrich to keep walking. Long white hair stirred around the nymph’s slender shoulders, contrasting with his dark-grey skin. Eyes of almost white, circled by thin lines of black, stared at Ulrich.

The nymph wore nothing but a pair of dark breeches. His lithe torso and feet remained completely bare, not at all troubled by the winter chill. After a moment, he dropped his hand from Ulrich’s elbow.

“What?” Ulrich hadn’t even heard the mountain nymph approach. Ulrich knew oreads moved silently and could camouflage with the mountains and forests, but this seemed extreme.

“I agreed with you,” the oread said casually as if he hadn’t just appeared like magic. “It is a lovely winter’s day.” He gestured with a graceful wave of his hand at the scenery around them. “A perfect day in the mountains.” His gaze focused on Ulrich. “And what lovely company to share it with.”

Ulrich frowned. Why would the oread refer to him as lovely company? Was the oread mocking him? He pulled in his shoulders beneath the bulky overcoat.

Ethel honked, a deep, throaty sound. Ulrich placed a hand on her fur.

“Interesting choice of pet,” the oread said. “I’ve never known a human to keep a reindeer before.” He laughed, a light, breathy sound.

“Ethel,” Ulrich said. “Her name is Ethel.”

“And why did you decide to keep Ethel as a pet?” the oread asked.

“It was winter, and… And… She was half-starved,” Ulrich stammered defensively. “I had to take her in.” He wasn’t great at speaking with people at the best of times. But talking to someone he didn’t know, who’d appeared out of nowhere, asking him strange questions, left him flustered and unnerved.

“She came into the village, searching for food.” Ulrich remembered the sight of Ethel, walking around on wobbly, too-thin legs. Skin and fur had clung to her ribs. She’d stared up at him with big brown eyes. Of course Ulrich had taken her in. “She would have died.” He’d brought Ethel into his house, moving the furniture to make space for her by the stove.

“Don’t humans eat reindeer?” the mountain nymph asked, a hint of amusement in his melodic voice.

“She was just a calf,” Ulrich said.

“And how many years ago did she stumble into Ores?” the nymph asked.

“Four.”

“She couldn’t return to the forest in the spring?” the oread asked, strikingly pale eyes boring into him.

“I took her out into the forest,” Ulrich said.

At the time, Ulrich’s heart had been heavy. It had been nice to have a companion. She was someone he felt at ease with, someone he could share the long, lonely nights with. He could talk to her and she wouldn’t judge him. He hadn’t wanted to imagine a life after Ethel. He didn’t want to be completely alone again.

“I brought her to a herd of reindeer. I tried to leave her with them, but she followed me back.”

“How sweet,” the oread said.

Ulrich’s face burned, but when he looked at the oread, he didn’t think he was being teased. He smiled softly and kindly at Ulrich.

Ulrich didn’t know what was happening. Ulrich rubbed Ethel’s shoulder, feeling the muscles and shoulder blade moving beneath skin and fur. She bumped her big body into his, rubbing against Ulrich’s side as if sensing he needed her sturdy comfort.

“It’s the beginning of the Winter Solstice season today,” the oread said. “It is exactly four weeks until the Solstice.” The nymph stopped walking and faced Ulrich.

Ulrich stopped as well, not sure what else to do. “Well, yes. It is,” Ulrich said, trying to follow the abrupt topic change.

“It is custom in your village to give Solstice gifts throughout the season.”

Ulrich nodded.

“That is why I am here today. To give my gift to you.” He held out a single blue flower with a thin red bow wrapped around the stem. “It’s a wrin flower.”

Ulrich stared at the flower. He looked into the nymph’s serious face. Why would the nymph give him a Solstice gift? He never got Solstice gifts.

“Will you take it?” the oread asked, stepping closer. The top of the nymph’s head only just reached Ulrich’s mouth.

Despite his uncertainty, Ulrich took the lovely flower, so small in his gloved hand. Could this sweet, dainty gift really be for him? His throat tightened. He glanced at the oread’s face. He didn’t seem like he was joking.

“In oread culture, we give wrin flowers to those we admire.” The oread stepped closer to him and wrapped his hand around Ulrich’s wrist. His calloused fingers sought Ulrich’s skin beneath the sleeve of his coat.

Ulrich stopped breathing as the oread stroked the sensitive part of his body. It had been years since he’d last been touched.

“The name of the flower comes from a human named Wrin. He was one of the travellers to the Norend Mountains. One of the original settlers of Ores,” the nymph said. “An oread gave him the flower because he admired him. They fell in love and lived happily together.”

Ulrich’s mouth moved, but no sound came out.

“The flower’s pretty,” the oread said. “Like you.”

“Pretty?” Ulrich choked.

The nymph smiled. “Yes. Pretty.”

Ulrich was not pretty. He was gruff and big and brooding and hairy. Definitely not pretty.

No, this strange, perplexing mountain nymph was pretty with his delicate features; small, short frame; and soft-looking white hair.

The oread stepped away, dropping Ulrich’s wrist. “I’ll see you again soon, Ulrich. I very much look forward to it.” Then he glided away, disappearing into the forest.

It took Ulrich several moments to collect himself. He looked to Ethel, who stood beside him, staring after the nymph. “What just happened?”