Title: Blanketed In Snow
Author's note: freelance charity (round one) for sarajaye, who asked for Erk/Serra blanket fic. Betaed thanks to JossAwesome.
The rest of the party had been made up of two young cavaliers and a few monks from another order, but they had stayed at the last town. Erk had been desperate to get to the capital, and so they pushed on ahead with some twenty miles before them until they reached their goal of a far off outpost. Until then, they'd have to camp in the wild.
She had complained of sore feet and had taken rides with the more handsome of the two, but despite her many attempts had not yet secured a marriage proposal, or possibly a harem–-a joke, of course.-one Erk rolled his eyes at, muttering about how Serra was trying to win herself a harem with the way she fluttered her eyes and tried to marry herself off.
Or more, it was as if she liked to flaunt the possibilities of her being married and swept away to fabulous wealth in his face. Every day he'd hear You'll miss me when I'm married to Lord Hector though at times Hector was replaced with Eliwood (at least until the latter's marriage) and whatever other noble or non-noble had caught her eye.
Serra however, was quite steadfast to her vows–Erk would have simply labeled her capricious and flirty, fluttering about, searching for whatever attention and love she could glean. And of course, with a grossly exaggerated idea of her own worth, but that went with the territory.
He would of course, only think this. He never let Serra know that he didn't think her half as annoying as he said.
He stared down at the map, and frowned in concentration. For once he almost regretted not stopping with the cavaliers, but the thought of being in an enclosed space with her for such a period of time was enough to send him out into the cold.
"My feet hurt," she said.
"Well, they're going to. We've many miles to go," Erk said.
She pouted, looking even younger than usual as she tried to ply him.
"Carry me," she commanded. "You're my guardian. I'm even paying you–a lot more than that red-haired troubadour. Obviously I should be your first priority."
He narrowed his eyes, bitter retort dying on his tongue. She was right, for once. He had, by some mad impulse between Lady Louise's giggle and a flip of Serra's pink pigtails, agreed to this insane thing.
He bent down, and she climbed on, looping her hands around his neck.
"Giddyup, slave!" She said with a laugh, and egged him on with a soft kick.
"Horses don't talk. Unless you are a magical talking horse; then I then I should put a pretty bridal on you and keep you and ride you forever~"
"I should drop you in a snow drift," he grumbled.
"But you won't, because you can't bear to be without me, right?" She said.
"Don't try me," he muttered.
And so he walked on, cutting through the trail. Her voice was as sharp as the feel of the winds to his cheek.
The storm had come up suddenly en route to Etruria. Twelve hours after they had parted ways, the winds began to howl. He pulled his cloak tighter. He'd had to let Serra walk to allow his shoulders rest, but in that time the drifts had only gotten impassable.
There had been no sudden, fortuitous finds of abandoned cabins, nor caves found amongst the rocks. It was only the thickly-wooded forest they drew into to cut the wind, and in there Erk bent down and put up the tent while Serra gave instructions and told him to go faster.
But after some time, the tent was raised and they climbed inside, shivering and wet. It was snug in there, as Serra's tent had been lost earlier in their journey, though her clothes and jewelry she had carried herself, and thus were unharmed. She climbed in first, pushing him aside with a loud ladies first!
Erk followed behind her, grumbling unintelligible things.
"Obviously the only choice is to undress out of these wet clothes and share body heat. My poor vows of chastity are surely going to be tested, because who could resist ravishing me?"
"Then lucky for your vows of chastity that you are the only woman on the face of the planet I would be not in the slightest bit tempted to, as you put it 'ravish,'" Erk said.
"You're horrible," she said. "In fact, I'd rather freeze out there. The whole world is going to mourn my passing, and it's going to be all your fault."
She opened up the tent flap and went outside, letting in a blast of chill air and white snowflakes flying in irregular spirals.
Erk sighed and reached out. "Come here."
"No," she said. "I'm going to be busy having a tragic death. Which by the way, is going to be your fault."
"And is going to prompt a world-wide mourning for three years, I know, I know," Erk said.
"Exactly!" Serra said. "You're cruel for hurting all those people. They'll canonize me and I'll be taking tea with Saint Elimine and you'll feel awful."
"So you keep telling me," Erk said dryly.
Serra put her hands on her hips. "You're an idiot, Erk. Here I am, almost being torn away from your grasp and marrying perfectly fine young men, but instead I'm breaking their hearts and leaving them hurt forever because you're too stupid to realize you're madly in love with me already!"
She stamped her foot in the snow like a child. It was already up to her knees.
"So realize it! Wrest me from death's grip in a most manly way—"
"Would you just get over here?" Erk said.
He tugged on her scarf and brought her lips to his for one quick, warm moment. She tumbled into the tent again and on top of him with such force their teeth knocked together. It was more pain than pleasure, which incidentally, was what summed up being in her presence quite nicely. For once, she was speechless. Her cheeks turned about as pink as her pigtails, and she could only stammer in response.
"You–You–You kissed me!"
"I didn't see another way to shut you up," Erk said.
He pulled her under his cloak. There away from the wind and near to him, it felt almost warm.
"Obviously then, I'll just have to be my charming self to get many kisses from you!" She said brightly. "We've got the rest of our life to look forward to!"
"I can't wait," Erk said flatly.