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A redraw of one of my older pictures - one I gained inspiration from thanks to the courtesy of someone reminding me I had a witch au, lmao
Anyway-- I actually did some major changes here! I definitely like the silver design for Frostbite much much more than the autumn one-- so I think I’m going to keep it. Also, notice some minor design changes for Asriel, too!
Overall, I’m happy with how this turned out ^^
WITCH AU: Red
Part 2/3,the first part is “The Witch’s House.”
General warning for PG-13 esque stuff, I don’t wanna spoil too much;;
The gentle glow of the sunrise glimmered through the curtains. The window, closed, kept out the freezing air. The icy chill of late autumn had begun to set in, though there was warmth in the room. Scents of fresh greenery permeated the air.
Asriel’s eyes opened, finding himself staring up at the ceiling. His arms rested above his head.
After taking a few moments to stir himself from slumber, he sat up, rubbing his eyes.
He’d been here for about two months. The lack of such a busy lifestyle had made this place seem like paradise; he’d grown used to the quiet chirping of the birds in the woods, the sound of wind rustling through the tree’s branches, and the sounds of the goats and chickens outside each morning. His injuries had healed to the point where the only thing that irritated them was sudden quick movement. Frostbite trusted him on his own, now, to not hurt himself trying to do too much.
After a quick change of clothes, Asriel made his way out of his room and into the kitchen. The wood stove contained the soft embers of the previous night’s fire. Though it was still warm, a chill had spread through the house. Asriel took it upon himself to add another log and some twigs to reignite it.
His attention was grabbed by the sound of a THWACK! outside. Curious, Asriel took his boots from the mat by the door, laced them, and headed outside.
His breath fogged before him, and icy frost decorated the outside world in white crystals. The grass crunched beneath his feet, and sunlight sparkled through the few remaining leaves upon the trees. Two black goats trotted across the yard, along with a small flock of chickens. The thwack interrupted the air again, and Asriel followed the sound around to the side of the house.
There, he found Frostbite. She had laid her cloak across a stack of cut logs, and her arms had slipped out of her wide-necked shirt, the sleeves tied neatly behind her to keep it in place. In her hands, she held a woodcutter’s axe, and she stood in front of a pile of uncut logs. She had taken one log, and placed it upon the trunk of a long-dead tree.
He noticed black markings and symbols decorating her arms. Her arms themselves were toned by years of hard work and turmoil. She swung the axe, Asriel noticing the outline of her muscles in the movement, and slicing the log before her in two with another thwack!
He shook himself out of his staring, suddenly aware of the heat in his face. He took a deep breath, turning away from the scene to watch the goats, trying to purge the pink in his cheeks.
“You still can’t sneak as well as you think you can!”
Asriel perked, turning back to the scene to see Frostbite facing him, running a hand through her hair. Her breath fogged up quickly, sending clouds into the frosty air as she caught her breath. She swung the axe into the trunk, where she let it rest.
“Just came to see what you were doing!” Asriel replied, watching her retrieve her cloak and untie her sleeves. She slipped her arms into them, and then clipped her cloak back around her shoulders.
“Yeah? Wanna help me feed the goats?” Frostbite asked when she approached, offering him a smile. Her cheeks were flushed from her previous efforts, and she again ran a hand through her hair.
“Sure!”
She walked across the yard towards a small shed. Asriel had helped her build it about a month ago, to store the animals’ feed somewhere other than her bedroom. Following, Asriel watched her drag out a heavy canvas bag, pulling it open.
“Need help?” He asked, and she shook her head.
“I got it,” she replied, heaving it into her arms to get a better grip on it. “I’ll carry, you dispense.”
They made their way over to the wooden trough, worn through years of usage. There, Asriel helped Frostbite lay out a batch of alfalfa, and the two goats came trotting over.
“I’ll have to get more of that,” she murmured, closing up the bag. “They seem to love it.”
They returned the bag to the shed. Their footsteps left prints in the frost, and the sun was beginning to rise further against the tall trees. Beautiful reds and oranges and pinks decorated the sky, along with shadowed clouds.
“I fed the chickens earlier,” Frostbite stated, tossing her hair to move it back in place over her right eye. Her hair was smooth, shining in the gentle morning light. Her amber eyes glowed with that same shimmer. She took the heavy board hanging on the shed and swung it forward over the door to keep it shut tightly.
Asriel shook himself again, blinking as if awakened from a trance.
“You alright? You keep spacing out,” Frostbite asked, though she walked back towards the house. She motioned towards it with her head, indicating he should follow.
“Yeah— Yeah! I’m alright, I… I think I had a weird dream last night. I just… don’t remember anything about it,” Asriel replied, walking after her. “I think it threw me off.”
The kitchen had been warmed in their absence as the log caught fire in the stove. The chilled air was left behind when the front door closed.
“How long have you been awake?” Asriel asked as Frostbite sunk into one of the chairs at the table, stretching her arms above her head. She seemed tired.
“A few hours,” she murmured with a yawn. “That wood wasn’t going to cut itself, it has to be done before the snow comes.”
“I could’ve helped—!”
“No. I want to be sure your neck isn’t going to act up again before I let you exhort that much energy,” Frostbite replied quickly, before he could retort. “I’m not taking the risk of you hurting yourself again.”
Asriel couldn’t think of a retort to that.
“I’m going to gather eggs for breakfast in a bit, then I’ll make something. Bread should still be fresh.”
“I can make breakfast, if you need a break! I know how to make eggs!” Asriel replied, perked and eager to help.
A small smile crossed her face as she leaned back into her chair, running a hand through her hair. She took a deep breath before letting it out.
“Fine,” she murmured, sitting back up to look over at him. “But don’t hurt yourself!”
“I won’t!” Asriel replied, and before she could get up or retort, he had already headed outside.
When Asriel returned, Frostbite wasn’t at the table.
“Frostbite?” He called out, setting the eggs into the designated basket on the wooden counter.
No reply, but he could smell the faint whiff of a freshly lit candle.
Curiosity sparked in him as he looked over to the stairs. In his time here, he had never been upstairs. Frostbite had moved her things from his room to hers once she had made room for them, but he hadn’t been able to help because of his injury. Now, he was curious.
Tentatively, he took hold of the railing and began to climb the stairs.
When he reached the top, he was taken aback by the room. Two walls were entirely covered by bookshelves, upon which rested more than books. Crystals, jars, plants, and small chests. A bed lay on top of a rug on the wooden floor, above which was hung a wooden ring, decorated with feathers and strung with pink blossoms he hadn’t seen anywhere in the village. Above that, a hand-carved moon cycle was hung in an arch. Candles were placed upon the bedside tables, as well as on empty shelves. To his left, a wardrobe was pushed against the wall, in a hollowed out area of the shelved wall. Plants hung in hangers around the ceiling, in strange balls with what looked to be small trees and ivies sprouting from them. To the right, Asriel found Frostbite.
She was sitting on a cushion next to a low table. The table was set against the wall, with an open ornate box sitting upon it. There was a statue of a woman holding a staff, a closed book, a wooden cup, a variety of crystals set into an arch, and a rainbow of colored candles upon the table. Asriel noticed that only the red and pink ones were lit.
Frostbite sat cross-legged, with her hands in her lap. Upon approaching, Asriel noticed her eyes were closed.
“You should really knock before entering someone’s room,” she said without moving. “I could hear you.”
“What are you..?”
“Meditating,” Frostbite replied, again not moving. “I’ll be down soon.”
Asriel chose not to comment, only staying for a few more moments before heading back downstairs.
The room was quiet, but Asriel quickly set to work preparing breakfast. About halfway through, he heard the padding of footsteps on wood.
“Surprised you went to find me,” Frostbite said, and Asriel heard her moving a chair.
“I could smell the candles — wanted to make sure you were alright.”
“...I assure you, I can handle myself, don’t worry,” she replied, and Asriel could almost sense the smile on her face. “Breakfast smells wonderful.”
“I picked up on a few things from my mother,” Asriel replied, taking two plates from the cabinet. “She taught me how to cook.”
“Impressed, I am. Not many seem to know how, aside from the women in the village.”
“Eh, mother thought I should know, and I enjoyed it.”
Asriel was done quickly - eggs didn’t take too long to cook, nor did slicing bread - and returned to the table. He set a plate before Frostbite, and then himself, before sitting across from her at the table.
“How’s your neck?” Frostbite asked, watching him eat for a few moments.
“It’s fine, better than it was. It only hurts now if I do something like jerk it to the side too quickly.”
She nodded, before divulging in her own food. Asriel took notice of how her ears pricked at the first bite.
“You did very good,” she said, causing a smile to cross Asriel’s face and pink to flush his cheeks.
“Thank you! It’s, ah… it’s been a while,” he said a bit sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I might just keep you around!” Frostbite said with a small giggle, and Asriel perked upon hearing her laughter.
“I’d hope so! I do like it here!” He said, returning to his own food. “I figure I should at least try to do something.”
“You can help me bring water back to the house and stack the logs, how’s that sound, hm?” Frostbite said, shooting him a smile. “You can do that.”
“Of course! But you need to finish eating! Gives energy for hard work.”
Frostbite rolled her eyes, snorting.
“I wouldn’t let such a good meal go to waste,” she joked with a small smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll finish it.”
The rest of the day was busy. Asriel helped Frostbite with the wood, with her cutting the logs and him stacking them up against the side of the house in a way that would keep them the driest. Asriel was in awe of her strength and efficiency, and more than once Frostbite had to remind him that the logs wouldn’t stack themselves. By the time the afternoon came, the final log had been split, and they had a sizable stack against the house.
After the wood, Frostbite took him into the forest, along a well-beaten path she had traveled many times. She carried with her two sturdy buckets, as well as some jars. From the house, she led him deep into the woods, where Asriel was able to take in the fresh breezes and chirping of the birds. Clouds drifted across the bright blue sky, visible through the branches above. Winter was coming - the clouds were gathered in larger and larger clumps.
Deep in the woods, they stopped at a creek. The water was clear and fresh. Occasionally, a fish would swim by. The pebbles were visible in the bottom, along with tall grasses along the banks and stepping stones that peeked out of the water. Frostbite took the buckets and walked out onto the stepping stones, again leaving her cloak behind, draped over a dry rock on the bank. She rolled up her sleeves, crouched upon the rock whilst balancing on her toes, and dunked the bucket under the water. Asriel assumed that to be the deepest part of the creek.
She did this with both buckets, Asriel helping by filling up the jars. Their breath fogged in the chilled air, the cold nipping at their wet hands and making them shiver. After filling their containers, they made the hike back to the house. Frostbite carried the buckets, Asriel asking many times if she needed help, to which she simply shook her head.
At the house, Frostbite dumped the water into an airtight barrel, kept in a cabinet under the stairs, so well-hidden Asriel hadn’t known it was there until she had first shown it to him. Many hikes and many hours later, they eventually had filled four barrels, stashed safely in the cubby.
Night seemed to come quickly with the hard work of the day, the darkness spreading over the woods. An occasional star would dot the sky through the gathering clouds, and the cold sunk deeper into the air.
After a hot meal and a change of clothes, Asriel sat on the floor next to Frostbite’s bed. Frostbite had lit her red candles again, though he didn’t ask why. A few rose petals lie upon her table by the wall.
She had a hand on either side of his head, gently tilting it either way to gauge the healing process. The rope burns had long scarred over, but the internals had taken much longer to heal.
“This doesn’t hurt, does it?” She asked softly, and Asriel shook his head.
“Feels better and better every day,” he said, feeling her lean his head back.
“You’ve got a leaf,” she murmured, and he felt her pick something from his hair.
“Thanks.”
Frostbite didn’t reply, though she did shift her hands to his neck, and her touch was soft. One of her hands was roughened by age-old burn scars, and the other soft and smooth. He guessed that was because of the glove she wore to protect it.
There was a mild discomfort when she pressed against the back of his neck to feel the bone, but nothing he couldn’t bear.
“You’ve healed well,” he heard her murmur, though her hands let go of him after a few moments.
“That’s good to hear — means I’m not going to be unable to do anything forever!” Asriel said with a soft chuckle, lifting his head to look up at Frostbite. His head was about level with her knees, from where she sat cross-legged on the bed.
He noticed her shifting her hands in her lap,
“Frostbite?”
She wasn’t looking at him, seeming deep in thought. He didn’t like the look of reluctance on her face.
Before he could ask again, she slid off the bed and walked over to her table by the wall. Confused, Asriel stood up, following after her.
“Hey— Frostbite, what’s wrong?”
She didn’t answer, taking one of the rose petals in her palms.
“...You’re going to want to leave,” she murmured after a long silence. “You’re going to want to go back. You’ve healed - why stay?”
Asriel felt his heart sink at the heartbreak in her voice.
He hadn’t considered that. Yes, he had missed home, but he hadn’t been thinking of the day that he’d leave. Maybe every now and then, he’d consider it, but the thought never came to him that it would come to pass.
He felt a tug on his heartstrings. Frostbite was refusing to look at him, running a thumb along the delicate rose petal in her hand.
“...I won’t make you stay,” she muttered. “I’m not going to keep you hostage, force you to live here. I know your beliefs conflict with mine. I know you have family elsewhere. I know you miss home. I just…”
Asriel noticed her hands shaking as she tightened her grip upon the petal, crushing it in her palm. He was lost for words. What could he say that wouldn’t make it worse? However, it was the next words that took his breath from his chest.
“...I love you.”
His cheeks flushed with heat. Before he knew it, she had grabbed the front of his shirt, pulled him down, and kissed him.
Asriel was taken aback. Unable to think, to move, for a long moment. His eyes were wide, and he felt stiff all over, frozen in shock. However, he didn’t push her off of him.
She was soft and gentle, the grip on his shirt loosening.
Frostbite let go of him after a long while, slowly, almost seeming shocked by her actions. Silence fell, once more, broken only by the chirping of crickets outside and the hooting of owls in the distance. The moonlight shimmered through the curtains, illuminating the room in a soft glow.
There was a fluttering in his chest he hadn’t felt before. Butterflies filled his stomach in a swarm. He raised a hand, and touched his lips.
Had that just happened?
Frostbite stood in silence, not looking at him, but at a spot past him, seeming to consider her next words very carefully. She bit her lip, trying to find the words.
After a few moments, she began to speak.
“...I’m sor—“
However, before she could finish, Asriel had taken her face in his hands and returned her kiss. Though the butterflies swarmed, though his heart raced, his mind told him one thing, and one thing only:
I love you, too.
Though his eyes closed, he could feel her run her hands along his shoulders, pulling him closer. One of her hands trailed into the hair on the back of his head, the other moving to wrap her arm around his neck.
Though he had to let go of her face to do so, his hands moved to her waist, holding her close as the kiss broke apart. He instead moved to press slow kisses against her cheek, then jaw, neck, collarbone, and then exposed shoulder. She leaned her head back, giving him more room. Every new kiss against her skin prompted her to grip him tighter, hold him closer.
I need you.
Her touch was gentle against him. In turn, her skin was soft against his hands. Burn scars be damned, the feel of soft flesh wasn’t only foreign to him, but it was addictive. He hadn’t felt anything like it. A lover’s caress, a kiss, holding and being held. The way she held him tight, the way her hands traveled across him, the way they seemed to just… fit together. The way her hands ran through his hair, holding him closer, longing for his touch, his kiss. The shivers down her spine when he buried himself into her neck, the feeling of his touch, the need for him.
It was intoxicating. They needed more.
The night had never felt so long, but not empty. Far from it. In the heat of the moment, in the desire, the need, they didn’t want it to end.
However, it did.
In the dead of night, when silence fell and the night grew cold, sleep came quick from exhaustion. The bed felt unusually comfortable, the blankets warmer than normal, the pillows softer.
The room fell into silence, the red candles on the table finally flickering out.
-
Frostbite woke that morning to the sun’s beams peering through the curtains. Birds outside sang their familiar melody, and it took her a few moments to register the morning.
Though, from her position, she didn’t want to get up just yet. It was warm… warm and comfortable. She trailed a hand behind her, feeling the sheets.
“Asriel?” She murmured, rubbing her eyes and turning over.
He wasn’t there.
She shrugged, yawning and stretching in her bed. He’d probably woken early.
It took her a long time to get out of her comfortable bed, though upon doing so, she wished she hadn’t. The air was icy and cold, especially against bare skin.
Odd… He would have thrown a log into the stove. Did he forget?
She picked up her clothes off the floor, with a wince, before walking over to her wardrobe. Everything felt sore from the previous day. It hurt to lift her arms, and her calves hurt from the trekking to the creek.
She pulled open the doors, tossing the previous night’s clothes into a hand-woven basket at the bottom. In the back of the wardrobe, a tall mirror hung, allowing her to take in her reflection.
Her neck and shoulders were covered in small bruises, and her hair was a tousled mess. She tidied it with her hand, tucking strands back into place and combing through it with her fingers. She then quickly dressed herself, hurried by the cold air nipping at her skin.
“Asriel?” She called out again, a bit louder this time, making her way down the stairs after closing up her wardrobe. On the way down, she clipped her cloak around her shoulders.
Upon reaching the kitchen, she noticed that the stove was cold and ashy, no embers glowing inside. The front door was slightly ajar, and Asriel’s room remained silent.
Eyebrows creased, she walked over to the door and shut it. Something was wrong.
Had he gone to the creek, perhaps, and forgotten to start the fire? Why would he leave the door open?
Looking around the room for clues prompted her to spot a torn sheet of paper on the table. She approached the table and took the scrap into her hands.
Her heart sank into her stomach.
Upon reading its contents, tears began to quickly flow from her eyes and down her cheeks. Her hands began to shake, then the rest of her, and it wasn’t from the cold. Her grip tightened on the paper, threatening to tear it.
On the paper, written in hasty, messy handwriting, was one sentence:
God forgive me, for I have sinned.
FOREST GUARDIANS
WITCH AU: The Witch's House
Didn't realize I forgot to post this! So I bring you this, part 1 of 3 for the history between Asriel and Frostbite in the Witch AU.
I'm putting it under a read more because it's long--
Feedback is very much appreciated!!
Asriel woke to a splitting headache and a fuzzy vision.
A groan escaped his lips, and he reached a hand up to grip his head. He ached, why did he ache?
He was suddenly aware of something tied around his neck and wrists, making his heart sink into his stomach.
Was he..?
Asriel shot upright, holding his wrists before him.
Bandages. They were just bandages.
He let out a sigh of relief, though dizziness from sitting up much too fast made him lie back down.
The air smelled of warm cinnamon and a campfire, with the sound of clattering glass coming from the other room.
Asriel stared up at the ceiling, eyes narrowed as he tried to remember where he was. Was he home? No… that ceiling wasn’t the color of his bedroom. He didn’t have herbs hanging from the ceiling…
Wait… why were there herbs hanging from the ceiling?
He finally took a moment to draw in his surroundings.
Upon shelves were crammed books, jars, and small ornate boxes. Shelves lined the walls like support beams. Plants hung from the ceiling in bowls, tied carefully into roped hangers. A thin sheet was pinned above the doorway, blocking his view into the other room. He lied on a bed, handcrafted, and covered with heavy fur blankets. Candles were lit around the room, an assortment of colors. A window was uncovered next to him, allowing a soft autumn breeze into the warm room. A book lie closed on a table against the wall, in front of a small, closed ornate box. Surrounding the book was an assortment of colored candles, and a small statue of what looked to be a woman with a staff. In front of that table was a pillow on the floor.
He could hear humming.
Asriel slowly slid off the bed, feeling a rug beneath his feet. He took a few steps towards the door, off of the rug and onto cold floorboards.
They creaked loudly under his weight, and the humming stopped.
“I wouldn’t recommend doing that if I were you. It’d be in your best interest to lie back down before you irritate your head more; wouldn’t want your neck to break, would we?”
He froze at the voice that came from behind the sheet, eyes narrowing. Where had he heard that voice before? It was so familiar...
“I didn’t stutter.”
Asriel took a few steps back, eyes narrowed, towards the bed.
Once he was away from the door, a figure stepped through, brushing the sheet aside. Asriel gasped when he recognized the small figure that stepped through.
“You!”
The woman, shorter than he - only about as tall as his waist - had stepped past the sheet and into the room. Granted, he was tall in the first place, but still. She had long hair the color of autumn leaves, with eyes of amber to match. Her cheeks were freckled. She was a Fox-monster, with a long, fluffy tail that brushed against the ground. Her fur was white, save for some black markings along her shoulders, and some orange on her ears and tail.. She wore a piece of fabric, crafted into some form of necklace, around her neck, in the center of which was tied a gemstone. Another gem was tied around her neck by a long black string. She wore a long, sleeved white shirt, which ruffled at the bottom, and a black cloak, the shoulders of which were missing. She wore a leather corset around her waist, black pants, and long, leather boots. One of her arms was gloved.
“Yes, me.”
“What do you want with me?”
“I saved your life, or have you forgotten?”
Asriel’s eyes narrowed at the woman.
“I still recommend you sit, Asriel.”
“You… I know you! You’re from the village!”
“I’m not from the village, per se,but I have been there for the last few months. When you hear rumors of people impersonating you and being hung for crimes they didn’t commit, you’re bound to investigate.”
The woman walked towards one of the shelves, investigating a plant that sat upon it. Her tail flickered under her long, black cloak. Asriel absorbed her words for a moment.
He’d seen her around before, usually petting an animal along a farm gate, or sitting in a church pew. He’d seen her buying things from the merchant, feeding wandering chickens, and speaking with other shop owners. He had never seen her on a farm of her own. Rumor had it that she lived on the edge of town. She had never dressed like this, either.
“Impersonation… nobody’s…”
Then, it clicked.
“YOU’RE A WITCH!” He cried out, almost angrily.
“I am,” the woman answered coolly, not turning to look at him.
“A worshiper— no, a whore of the Devil! You’ve come to sacrifice me! Or— make me sign his book-!”
A sudden thud made Asriel stop. The woman had turned to face him with a fury in her eyes he hadn’t seen on anyone before, not to him. In her hand, the hilt of an ornate dagger. The blade was stuck into the shelf she had been standing at just moments before.
“I don’t whore over any Devil,” she hissed, fangs bared into a snarl. Her voice was low as she approached him. Asriel stepped backwards, tripping back and falling onto the bed.
“I worship the Earth I walk upon, and the deity who provided us with it. Mother’s remedies saved your life, Dreemurr. Your lot simply cries witchcraft and Devil worship for things you don’t understand, like the remedies of plants provided to us and the magic that is our surroundings. Religious zealots like yourself have torn Mother’s roots up and replaced them with pastures and more land than you will ever need. You burn her trees and ruin her hills with nothing in return, instead putting your false idol before she who gave you everything.
How fair is it that your greed, your people, have begun to ruin the land of Mother? For what? Divine intervention? Someone must claim these lands as their own, someone must show off the grandeur that is the new order, who escaped persecution, yet made their own in the process? Persecuting what you don’t understand, and shrieking that those who are different are witches, sentenced to die for refusing confession? You’ve just been using it to be rid of the neighbors you dislike! Not to mention how flawed your religion is! What, you’re superior to others because of how much gold lines your pockets, and what lies between your legs? Mother cares not for damned minerals like gold and silver. Mother doesn’t care your sex, who you love, or what wealth you have.
I may be a witch, but not in your terms. I may dance around fires, may practice spells and potions, but never in the name of any Devil. I’m not scared of you, Dreemurr, not what you claim to be able to do. I’m not scared of your God, nor his wrath. Men simply created this ‘God’ to make others bow to them. Show me any real proof that your God exists! That he wrote those ‘sacred texts’ in that book you love so much!
Did your God ever help you when you were swinging from that damned rope? Did his followers give you any mercy? Did he save an innocent man from the shrieks of attention-seeking little girls? No. You’re appalled by my laughter at your prayer, but how can I not? It’s ridiculous!”
Asriel was speechless, mouth agape. She was practically on top of him, now, having moved closer in her fury. Their noses could have touched, and he could see the fire behind her eyes. Her teeth remained bared; sharp fangs that could tear flesh like paper.
She suddenly huffed, sitting upright and walking over to the shelf. She brushed off her front, ears twitching on top of her head. She yanked the knife from the shelf, turning it in her hands.
“Mother told me to save your life,” she stated. “She told me: This one has potential. There’s goodness in him. I’m inclined to believe her. But boy, you do not make it easy.”
Turning back to him, she pointed the knife at his chin.
“Should you try anything, should you try to harm this house or that which I worship, Mother gives permission for me to defend her with my life. There’s a reason I’m the Guardian of this forest.
I’m setting some ground rules. There is to be no more accusations of Devil worship. You will not berate me for what I practice, and you will not under any circumstances reveal my location to any member of the village. Do you understand me?”
The flat side of the knife pressed against his chin, lifting his head. Asriel nodded, eyes narrowing.
The woman removed the blade from his chin, tucking it into a sheath inside her corset.
“Good. Then, let’s start, shall we?”
She reached out a hand to him.
“My name is Frostbite. I’ll be taking care of you from now on.”
Asriel took her hand and shook it, watching as she stepped away from him.
“Your neck and wrists are still healing, I wouldn’t recommend moving much. Be easy if you do.”
“Why’d you pull me down?”
Frostbite perked up, turning back to face him.
“Excuse me?”
“Why’d you pull me down, if you despise me so?” Asriel asked, shifting so his legs were tucked on the bed.
Frostbite was silent for a few moments before shaking her head.
“I don’t despise you,” she muttered. “You were the only one who wasn’t killed; what was I to do? Leave you up there, suffocating?”
With that, she walked back into the other room, the sheet fluttering with her absence.
Asriel bit the inside of his cheek, watching her leave. She was… strange. She dressed so differently than he was used to, and she had such a demeanor about her that he hadn’t seen on a woman in years.
Confidence. She wasn’t afraid to speak her mind.
Part of him admired her for that. And, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was now in her debt. He’d have suffocated to death if he hadn’t been cut down. The hangman’s rope didn’t break his neck, as it was supposed to.
“Guess I should be grateful for that…” he muttered, tucking his hands into his arms.
But where was he to go, alive? The village despised him, sentenced him to death as a witch, and likely wouldn’t be happy upon his return. Frostbite was probably the only person in miles who knew where anything was.
Thinking of the village… it brought up pain in him.
I wonder if Mother is alright…
Toriel, his mother, had fought tooth and nail against the townsfolk and the judges who had sentenced him. When he was taken to the noose, he hadn’t seen her among the crowd. He fully expected to hear she had fled to another town. He could only imagine the pain she was in.
I wish I could tell her I’m alive…
He glanced back to the door, swinging his legs off the bed. With as much silence as he could, he knelt onto the floor beside his bed.
He clasped his hands together in prayer, and lowered his head. He winced at the pain in his neck.
Let her know for me, please. Tell my mother I’m alive. Some way, somehow… tell her that she didn’t lose her son.
“I thought I told you not to move?”
Asriel was shaken from his prayer by the now-known voice of Frostbite. She was standing in the doorway.
“You’re not as good as you think you are at being sneaky,” she stated, walking back over to him and taking his hands. One of her hands was bandaged, he noticed. The other hand was smooth-skinned, and gentle. “I’m making food, you’ll be able to sit at the table then.”
“I want my mother to know I’m alive,” Asriel said, standing as she helped him up. “I—“
“Toriel?”
“You-?”
Frostbite let go of his hands.
“I know of her. She lent me cloth when I was in town,” she replied. “She wasn’t at the hanging.”
Asriel subconsciously rubbed the bandages around his neck.
“I don’t know what happened to her. I think she left.”
“She did. Something about being disappointed in the world she thought she knew. I can seek her out once you can be on your own,” Frostbite replied. “I have a good idea of where she went.”
“How..?”
“I’m much more observant than you think. All that time you saw me in the village, I was learning as much as I could about the accused and their families. Seeing what you deem as witchcraft. Your lot claims Devil worship and heresy as witchcraft; which makes sense, I guess, not much of what I believe in would be ‘Biblical.’”
Asriel shifted backwards onto the bed, leaning back against the wall.
“I’m making soup. Hope you don’t hate chicken,” Frostbite added. Asriel noticed her pick at the bandages on her hand.
“What’d you do to your hand?” He asked.
She was silent, and she stopped touching her bandages.
“...I’ll come get you when it’s ready.”
With that, she quickly left the room.
After a short while and reading the countless book spines that lined the walls, he heard the thud of something on wood. Asriel perked up, looking over to the doorway. After a few moments, the sheet shifted, and Frostbite walked through.
“You didn’t move, good. I’ll get you some books or something; sorry it took so long,” she said, quickly walking over and offering him her hands. Again, he noticed the bandages when he took them.
“You’ve got an interesting selection here,” he said.
“No Bibles, sorry,” she said with the threatening of a smile. He rolled his eyes as she helped him to his feet.
When she led him into the next room, he was somehow not surprised at the contents. Plants, again, hung from the ceiling, either potted and flowering or hung to dry. A small wooden table sat to the right, while the kitchen was to the left. She had a small wood stove providing warmth to the room, with cabinets lining the walls around it with counters to match. On the table, a heavy-looking pot sat in the center, with two bowls laid out on either side of it. The front door had a small window in it, covered with a curtain.
Frostbite led Asriel to the table, encouraging him to sit. She took a ladle from one of the counter drawers, and set it next to the pot. When she took the lid off, Asriel was immediately wrapped in the delicious smell. It made his mouth water, and it was only then that he realized just how hungry he was. When was the last time he had a full meal?
“Help yourself,” Frostbite said, likely noticing the look on his face. She walked back over to the stove, pulling open the door in the front. From under it, she pulled out a piece of wood, and placed it into the small fire.
“I’ve got bread, too, and butter. I’m hoping you’re not sick of it,” she said, closing the oven as Asriel ladled soup into his bowl.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” He asked, watching her move about the kitchen.
“I will, in a minute. Don’t choke.”
She went outside, a cold draft permeating the room when the front door opened. It was quickly doused, though, when it shut.
It was quiet, save for the soft crackle of the wood stove, and he took the time to look up at the stairs. Wood, like everything else, and crafted delicately. Part of him wondered where she got all of these supplies. The other part wondered what was upstairs.
He shrugged, though winced when he moved his neck. While she was gone, he folded his hands in his lap, taking a small bow of his head.
“Usually, I say my prayers when I gather the ingredients. Your God didn’t make that soup.”
He was practically thrown out of his skin when he heard her voice again.
“Stop doing that!” He cried, watching Frostbite as she placed a dish on the counter. He could see the risen loaf inside, which she dropped onto a wooden board.
“Pay attention,” she replied coolly, taking a knife from a small chest on the counter. “Just because I’m quiet doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be observant.”
Asriel, again, rolled his eyes.
“And be careful with your neck,” she added, cutting a few slices of the bread and setting them aside on the board. “Still healing. It’s only been two days.”
“I was out for two days?” Asriel asked incredulously, perked up. “How..?”
“I induced you into sleep. That way, you’d heal a bit faster.”
Frostbite approached the table and placed the small board onto the surface, next to the pot. Upon it were three slices of bread, and a small bowl with butter in it. By the look of it, it was churned recently.
“Did you make all of this yourself?” Asriel asked, watching as she sat across from him.
“Of course.”
“Alone?”
“Who else would be helping me? Eat. Your soup’s getting cold.”
Asriel took the spoon he was given in his hand, and took a bit from his bowl. Upon tasting it, he could practically feel the warmth running through him.
“This is delicious!” He exclaimed, and he noticed a small smile on Frostbite’s face.
“Thanks,” she said a bit sheepishly, and he could spot a flush of pink on her cheeks.
“So… you do everything yourself around here, huh?”
A small nod, and he noticed her stir her bowl with her spoon, not yet taking a bite.
“...You haven’t poisoned me, have you?” Asriel asked, and she snorted.
“And why would I do that?” She asked, lifting her head. “Poisoning you does you no good, and does me no favors. Why save your life just to poison you later?”
“Good point.”
He took another spoonful, watching as she finally did the same.
“So… what did you do to your hand?” He asked, noticing she had tucked it under the table. “The bandaged one?”
“...Burned it. Long time ago,” she murmured. “I don’t like to see the scars.”
“Oh…”
Of all the things he was expecting, that wasn’t it.
“I’m sorry.”
She shook her head.
“Not your fault,” she said, lifting her gaze from the tabletop. “Just… not used to talking about it. Don’t have many visitors. Just the goats and the chickens.”
“You have chickens?”
“They wander about, and I take their eggs. I don’t like to take too much of Mother’s land, but we’ve got to eat somehow. I’m told I take too little.”
“What’s upstairs?” Asriel asked, taking a slice of bread from the board.
“My room. Nothing much. Just a bed, some books. Some storage, I have a shelf with feed in it. It’s nothing special.”
“I’m sure it’s fine,” he added, to which she shrugged.
“I don’t like to live lavishly,” she muttered, again returning to stirring her soup. “It feels selfish of me.”
“If it’s laid out for you, why don’t you take advantage of it?” Asriel asked, moving to tilt his head. However, he was met with pain, and stopped.
Frostbite lifted her head, narrowing her visible eye.
“I’m not going to destroy the very forest I protect for the sake of material possessions,” she hissed.
Asriel raised his hands as a sign of peace.
“I’m just saying! If it’s there, why not?”
“Because I’m not selfish! I’m not going to take every bit of land I can get my hands on, and take more than I need!” Frostbite snapped, slamming her spoon on the table. “I have what I need to survive, and what wants I can spare. I don’t need acres of land for one person.”
“Okay- Okay! Fine!” Asriel huffed, lowering his hands to take another spoonful of soup. “I get it. Point taken.”
Frostbite’s ears twitched, and she continued to watch him. There was an uncomfortable silence between the two of them for a long time. Asriel eventually took a piece of bread from the board.
“Butter?” Frostbite asked, sliding him the small bowl. “Promise, it’s not poisoned.”
Asriel snorted. At least she was trying to be humorous. “Sure, why not?”
The rest of dinner went by without incident. Frostbite wasn’t exactly the best at conversation, but Asriel was willing to excuse it. It didn’t seem she had many companions out here. She was amusing, and she smiled often, so he gave her that.
However, he lay awake that night, staring at the plants hanging from the ceiling. A stack of books lie on the nightstand next to him, an assortment Frostbite had given him as reading material. She had told him to lie on his back, neck propped up on pillows to irritate it less. Progress with the healing was being made; it wasn’t raw, anymore, at least. It still hurt to move his head too much, though.
He couldn’t stop thinking. It was so much different here than home. It felt like his worries could just melt away with the candle wax. Not to mention, he had a full meal. Something other than bread and water, and a filthy jail cell. Though, despite this, Asriel was still thinking of home.
Would Chara, Frisk, and his father be mourning him? The lack of a body to bury? Did the townsfolk still think him a witch? They must’ve; he had been hung for it. Still, he missed them. Would they pray for him? Would they aim to find his mother, and try to reconcile?
He thought about what to do. When he left here, he’d have to go back. Where else could he go? It wasn’t like he could stay here forever. Would they be shocked? Would they try him as a witch again? Would they hang him properly?
He shut his eyes tight, resisting the want to turn over onto his side. Frostbite had told him to lie back, so lie back he did.
He let his mind wander, losing himself to the dreams that began to lull him. Soon, he fell into sleep, the first peaceful one in a while.
-“Forgive Me”-
I’m trying out colors for Frostbite in the Witch AU!
Witch Frostbite whomst I still need to write the story for...
