Colder Weather - Printable Version
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Colder Weather - Fallon Gillespie - August 23, 2020
August 23rd, 1890 — Somewhere in the frigid cold
Dawn's early rays were barely noticeable from her curled up position in the cave, and Fallon had never been so relieved to see the sun. There was no telling where they were still, but at least she could say with some degree of certainty they weren't in Antarctica. Whether civilization was five or fifty miles from them though, Fallon had no idea.
Her limbs ached from exhaustion. While Lachlan slept (seemingly soundly, not that Fallon knew the difference with him) she managed only to doze in ten minute increments. Her paranoia of the charms extinguishing and them freezing to death was too strong to allow for any more sleep. At least they survived the night with their limbs intact and their fingertips still flesh colored.
All that poked out of the fur bundles was her face, the rest of her form was either curled up against Lachlan or tucked under the heavy white fur. Despite her reluctance to disturb him, they couldn't stay like this forever. Fallon awkwardly tapped his shoulder, not wanting to suddenly move away and expose him to the cold. "Hey...it's morning...we should get moving."
RE: Colder Weather - Lachlan MacFusty - August 23, 2020
Sometime during the early morning hours Lachlan had succumbed to sleep. He rarely dreamed, but after a long day and an even longer night, it was impossible to sleep soundly. He couldn't remember much of them, but there was no forgetting the final image that haunted his dreams before he woke: Abernathy's body in the place of the young woman, her face collapsed by by his bludger. He woke with a startle at her sudden touch, only to let out a deep breath upon realization that he—and she—were alive and well.
Or as well as they could be at the moment. His hands immediately rose to press against his torso, which had someone stayed warm (if that's what he was calling it) throughout the night. It was the first night in his life that he'd slept beside another person since childhood—and the first time he'd slept beside an unrelated woman at all. It was funny how one night in subzero temperatures could make him long for the touch of another human being, but that's just how he felt as she pulled away from him.
"Don't suppose they taught you any tricks for finding food in the auror training program, eh?" he asked, feeling his stomach rumble as he attempted to rise to his feet. The cold struck his body immediately, sending him reaching for the furs. Nope, never again would he willingly venture out into the cold. Never.
Or as well as they could be at the moment. His hands immediately rose to press against his torso, which had someone stayed warm (if that's what he was calling it) throughout the night. It was the first night in his life that he'd slept beside another person since childhood—and the first time he'd slept beside an unrelated woman at all. It was funny how one night in subzero temperatures could make him long for the touch of another human being, but that's just how he felt as she pulled away from him.
"Don't suppose they taught you any tricks for finding food in the auror training program, eh?" he asked, feeling his stomach rumble as he attempted to rise to his feet. The cold struck his body immediately, sending him reaching for the furs. Nope, never again would he willingly venture out into the cold. Never.
RE: Colder Weather - Fallon Gillespie - August 23, 2020
She pulled the blanket with her as they disentangled, as she was determined to morph it back into the heavy coat. For a minute, though, she allowed herself to sit with it wrapped snug around her. Lachlan's body heat had been warmer than the furs alone, but it was impractical to stay curled up together for much longer. Who knew how many daylight hours they had?
"If we can find something I can duplicate it," she offered meekly. Fallon had been adamantly ignoring her hunger up until now, but now that he'd brought it to her attention she was ravenous enough to eat a polar bear.
Finally, she charmed the massive blanket back into her coat and shrugged it on. Then, with great care she reached into her pocket and retrieved the two twigs. "I'm not sure if I can do it, but if I can somehow transfigure these into a broom, can you fly?" She realized it was an insensitive question, but he was the more skilled flyer of the pair. Plus, they'd be able to cover more ground faster. "I'm hoping we can find some sort of wildlife. It'll be a good food source and possible indicator of where we are."
RE: Colder Weather - Lachlan MacFusty - August 23, 2020
They only needed to find one thing. Surely his dragon-taming skills were transferable to fish-catching or rabbit-hunting or something that would help them find food. Merlin knows he needed to make himself useful before the day was out. Fortunately she presented the perfect opportunity at the mention of flying.
"Could I fly?" he said mockingly, eyeing the sticks. "If you can turn those into a broomstick, I can have us off the ice by noon." Or whatever time the sun was highest. Peeking out of the cave it was clear that the sun was still slowly rising above the horizon, but who knew how long it would be before it started going down again?
"Could I fly?" he said mockingly, eyeing the sticks. "If you can turn those into a broomstick, I can have us off the ice by noon." Or whatever time the sun was highest. Peeking out of the cave it was clear that the sun was still slowly rising above the horizon, but who knew how long it would be before it started going down again?
RE: Colder Weather - Fallon Gillespie - August 23, 2020
Off the ice by noon, now that sounded appealing. Fallon was still mildly convinced they were near some sort of village or town (as the other alternative was an assassination attempt and she didn't want to think about that), but even that would be better than being in the tundra alone. "I'd accept just finding some sort of food."
She set to work on the twigs. It was dubious work. Everytime she attempted to attach the tail of the broom to the shaft it would fall to pieces or revert back to their original state. Whatever broom came out of this would have to be flown low to the ground to prevent a possible death.
After about thirty minutes of the struggle, she eventually had something resembling a bewitched broom. It wouldn't fly the fastest, but it was better than walking for hours on end. "Not my best work," she admitted with a sigh as she ran a frustrated hand through the pieces of hair that had escaped her messy bun. "Take it on a test run, maybe? Don't go higher than what would be a painful fall."
RE: Colder Weather - Lachlan MacFusty - August 23, 2020
Lachlan mustered a smile. "Well I can make better claims about my flying abilities than my hunting abilities," he joked. What would he even use? A sharpened stick? His wand? Surely not his bare hands. "I may have wrangled a dragon or two in my life—" A lie, but it's not like she'd know. "—but I think fish will slip through my hands a bit easier."
While she went to work on the twigs, he walked to the edge of the cave and crouched down. He scraped his fingers through the ice, hoping there would be sign of life. A little bit of dirt or even a dead plant could give some indication of where they were and what chances they had of finding fresh food and water nearby. Thirty minutes went by and all he could find was ice and snow—and under that, more ice and more snow. He stood up to tell her the news, but was instead greeted by the sight of a broom that looked like it belonged in the middle ages instead of 1890.
"The day you figure out how to turn twigs into an Oakshaft, please let me know," he said, taking a step closer to get a better look. It was shabby, sure, but not likely to break apart mid-air. He hoped. He pulled out his own wand and cast the only charm he'd perfected: the cushioning charm. He then mounted it and kicked off the ground, hovering a few inches off the ground.
He glanced at her once and then disappeared out of the cave. The wind was unbearable, even with the furs; his eyes were bright red and lips blue by the time he returned to the cave minutes later, but the broom was in tact.
"I think we could make it," he said as he dismounted. "But we might get frostbite in the process."
While she went to work on the twigs, he walked to the edge of the cave and crouched down. He scraped his fingers through the ice, hoping there would be sign of life. A little bit of dirt or even a dead plant could give some indication of where they were and what chances they had of finding fresh food and water nearby. Thirty minutes went by and all he could find was ice and snow—and under that, more ice and more snow. He stood up to tell her the news, but was instead greeted by the sight of a broom that looked like it belonged in the middle ages instead of 1890.
"The day you figure out how to turn twigs into an Oakshaft, please let me know," he said, taking a step closer to get a better look. It was shabby, sure, but not likely to break apart mid-air. He hoped. He pulled out his own wand and cast the only charm he'd perfected: the cushioning charm. He then mounted it and kicked off the ground, hovering a few inches off the ground.
He glanced at her once and then disappeared out of the cave. The wind was unbearable, even with the furs; his eyes were bright red and lips blue by the time he returned to the cave minutes later, but the broom was in tact.
"I think we could make it," he said as he dismounted. "But we might get frostbite in the process."
RE: Colder Weather - Fallon Gillespie - August 23, 2020
Somehow or another, Fallon hadn't put together that Lachlan was part of those MacFusty's. It seemed rather foolish now to not have realized, given he was as tall as a giant and Scottish to boot. "Dragons?" She echoed with mild awe. Were the creatures as magnificent as stories made them out to be?
She rushed over to the edge of the cave and watched as he flew. The wind hadn't died down at all in the few hours they rested, and the few warming charms she knew wouldn't protect against the bitter cold. Not for long anyway, not even if she was continuously casting.
He landed, the signs of hypothermia already visible on his face. Fuck. That wasn't even five minutes! Fallon quickly ushered him back towards the fire and rewarmed the floor so he could sit. "Like you said yesterday, we don't even know what direction to head towards." The gears were turning in her head as she moved back to the mouth of the cave to glance over the tundra floor. "We could start with short trips in each direction, fifteen to twenty minutes each way. Come back here to warm up if we don't find anything." She began pacing, carelessly using energy she'd later need. "The cave is distinguishable enough to apparate into, so perhaps we could go further. Thirty minutes, maybe." She would likely lose fingers due to hypothermia if they pushed it. But what was a few missing fingers to dying?
Fallon turned back towards him. "Was there an end to the ice anywhere from what you saw? Or did the wind blind you?"
RE: Colder Weather - Lachlan MacFusty - August 23, 2020
Like a moth drawn to a candlelight, Lachlan sat down on the spot she'd warmed on the floor. He couldn't feel his nose anymore, and he was certain at least one of his toes would be lost before they found real shelter. Last night he'd claimed that he'd rather go by freezing than burning—now he wasn't so certain.
"I couldn't see anything. No land. No sea," he breathed, watching his breath escape his mouth in a cloud. He was going to die out here, and he'd be the first MacFusty to die by ice instead of fire. Not the ideal way to go. "And certainly no villages. I'm no good with directions, but I think I was going east. The sun was rising from that direction," he explained, rubbing his hands together in his best attempt to create warmth (if there was any left to be made.)
"I think you're right," he said, a first. "We can't go far, but we need to try each direction. If we're somewhere in Russia, it's best to go West." Unless it was Siberia. Merlin's bollocks. "And then South is our best option." Unless they were in Antarctica, which again: Merlin's bollocks.
"I couldn't see anything. No land. No sea," he breathed, watching his breath escape his mouth in a cloud. He was going to die out here, and he'd be the first MacFusty to die by ice instead of fire. Not the ideal way to go. "And certainly no villages. I'm no good with directions, but I think I was going east. The sun was rising from that direction," he explained, rubbing his hands together in his best attempt to create warmth (if there was any left to be made.)
"I think you're right," he said, a first. "We can't go far, but we need to try each direction. If we're somewhere in Russia, it's best to go West." Unless it was Siberia. Merlin's bollocks. "And then South is our best option." Unless they were in Antarctica, which again: Merlin's bollocks.
RE: Colder Weather - Fallon Gillespie - August 23, 2020
Fuck. No land or sea. What was she supposed to do with that? And in a storm as fierce as this finding wildlife would prove a challenge. All they needed was one kill, be it a penguin or polar bear, and they wouldn't have to stress about food. Water wouldn't be an issue at all, especially considering she could transfigure something - her shoe most likely - into a pot.
"Okay. We'll start with west, then south." She sat back down directly besides him, fully expecting to be drawn in for warmth. "We'll go when you've warmed up some. We're definitely not in Antarctica. The sun wouldn't have risen this early - if at all - if we were."
RE: Colder Weather - Lachlan MacFusty - August 23, 2020
Lach unconsciously wrapped a arm around her and pulled her against his side while he stared out of the cave. He tried to think back to his short trip. On the ice there had been numerous piles of snow, and sometimes the ice seemed lower into the ground than in other places, but everything was so bare. No polar bears, no rabbits, no fish splashing around in a pool of icy water. Now that he thought about it, their cave was the only one he remembered seeing.
Why had they been brought here to begin with?
"The key," he said suddenly, wondering if she still had it on her. "Did you ever figure anything out about it? Nobody makes a portkey without a purpose."
Why had they been brought here to begin with?
"The key," he said suddenly, wondering if she still had it on her. "Did you ever figure anything out about it? Nobody makes a portkey without a purpose."
RE: Colder Weather - Fallon Gillespie - August 23, 2020
Fallon was so focused on their survival that she refused to spare a thought to the portkey. The more they discovered about their surroundings, the more likely it became that this was, in fact, an assassination attempt. And, although the idea might have been the result of her mild hysteria regarding the situation, it was something she refused to ponder until they were safe.
She leaned into him, grateful he didn't think twice of it. Things would return to normal once they were back in England. For now, a few minutes of intimacy wouldn't kill them. Fallon did, however, extract the key from her pocket and handed it to him to inspect. "No, I have no idea who it was from or why." The last thing she needed was for him to become alarmed. "I was hoping there would be a village nearby that would better explain."
That, obviously, didn't appear to be the case.
RE: Colder Weather - Lachlan MacFusty - August 23, 2020
Lachlan took the key into his hand and inspected it carefully. The more he looked at it, the older it seemed. Nothing like an apartment key or even a vault key—no, it was rusted and looked more ornamental than anything. What a peculiar item to make for a portkey, and so easily found by the wrong person.
Little did he know that she was thinking the same thing. "Maybe someone wanted you gone." Or maybe someone wanted him gone. Could it have been a dark wizard? A Moroccan who wanted him out of the picture. "Maybe they picked the most remote region of the world to dump us in." And maybe they would never get out this way.
He clutched onto her a little tighter and tried to push the thought from his mind. There was no way they could have gone through this only to die where no one would find them. She was right: they had to keep trying.
Little did he know that she was thinking the same thing. "Maybe someone wanted you gone." Or maybe someone wanted him gone. Could it have been a dark wizard? A Moroccan who wanted him out of the picture. "Maybe they picked the most remote region of the world to dump us in." And maybe they would never get out this way.
He clutched onto her a little tighter and tried to push the thought from his mind. There was no way they could have gone through this only to die where no one would find them. She was right: they had to keep trying.
RE: Colder Weather - Fallon Gillespie - August 23, 2020
Fallon could think of at least fifteen criminals capable of such an elaborate rouse who would want her gone. While she wasn't as famed an auror as some, she had cracked some cases that stumped her colleagues. She liked to say a fresh pair of eyes was all that was needed, but she knew some of her older coworkers were simply too stupid to realize what they were missing.
Still, she didn't want to confess to such and scare him. The portkey had meant to take her — and only her — to this godforsaken tundra, and knowing she wasn't meant to make it back would be all the more disheartening. "Or someone else, and we were just the unlikely pair to find the key." It was an unlikely scenario, given he'd originally found the key stashed under her badge. Hopefully, Lachlan was smart enough to read between the lines and realize this was the exact opposite of the conversation she wished to have. Ultimately, it didn't matter how or why they ended up here. They were here, and now the goal had to be on getting home.
She curled further into him, her knees nearly on his lap. Soon, she'd have to remove her shoe to make a pot, and the idea of being exposed any further than they were was enough to make her want to burrow into his warmth. "I think I'm going to arrange a vacation to the tropics after this," she joked halfheartedly. "Somewhere warm and sunny. Where the native people don't even know that snow exists."
RE: Colder Weather - Lachlan MacFusty - August 23, 2020
An unlucky pair they were. Frozen, alone, and directionless in the middle of what seemed to be a barren glacier, there was nothing for them to do expect hope that they'd stumble across a village or a group of polar bears waiting to be eaten. How long could people survive out in the cold without extensive gear? Would the cold wind hurt their lungs? Would they grow weaker every day, or would they be fine as long as they found food? The thoughts haunted him as they sat there, curled up together, one arm around her back and one gripping the back of her knee to pull her more snugly against him. This was not only about warmth anymore; he found comfort from her closeness, even if the touches felt odd and unnatural at first.
"Where in the tropics?" he asked quietly, trying to remember what the warm sun felt like. It was only yesterday he'd felt it, but a day here felt like a month. "Australia? The Pacific islands? South America? I'll buy the tickets if I can come, too," he joked, their bodies shaking as he forced a chuckle.
"Where in the tropics?" he asked quietly, trying to remember what the warm sun felt like. It was only yesterday he'd felt it, but a day here felt like a month. "Australia? The Pacific islands? South America? I'll buy the tickets if I can come, too," he joked, their bodies shaking as he forced a chuckle.
RE: Colder Weather - Fallon Gillespie - August 23, 2020
Normally, Fallon would've bristled at the thought of someone purchasing tickets for her. She was a fully capable adult with a well paying profession. Anyone of her class would be lucky to work as an auror. However, nothing about this situation was normal, and so she remained relaxed (or as relaxed as one could be given their situation) against him.
"Somewhere with a beach," she elaborated. "I don't care where, so long as it's warm and we're not at risk of hypothermia. We'll learn how to surf like the Hawaiians." Surfing was a bizarre concept, but imagining the warm thoughts was at least giving her something to cling to. What she would do for a warm cup of broth right about now.
"You can come as long as you don't blame me for dragging you into this mess." She stiffened slightly against him as the words escaped her. Lachlan wouldn't be suffering like so if she hadn't been so careless in her hand flailing. He ought to be back in London wondering what the hell happened to her. "I'm sorry for that, by the way."
RE: Colder Weather - Lachlan MacFusty - August 24, 2020
"Maybe I'll write to one of the Hawaiian players I met. I never had the chance to play against them, but I did meet a few before the match took place," he said. Maybe there would be no need for resort tickets after all; they could get a porkey—a proper one this time—to Hawaii and stay with a few acquaintances. "They have their own way of doing things in Hawaii. Their magic, their culture. Not to mention the food." Some of the British complained that their food was too exotic, but there was no food a MacFusty would object to trying, and he'd loved every bite.
Her apology caused his smile to drop a bit. He wasn't used to hearing apologies leave her mouth, and in that moment he realized he didn't like it very much. It was much easier to talk to her through bickering; working through his feelings wasn't part of his skill set, and he'd rather let them remain unspoken.
"Don't," he said quietly, patting her lower back awkwardly. "It's nobody's fault. I'm the one who sent the key to begin with," he reassured. If only he'd left it on the bar stool, then it might be some other sod's issue.
Her apology caused his smile to drop a bit. He wasn't used to hearing apologies leave her mouth, and in that moment he realized he didn't like it very much. It was much easier to talk to her through bickering; working through his feelings wasn't part of his skill set, and he'd rather let them remain unspoken.
"Don't," he said quietly, patting her lower back awkwardly. "It's nobody's fault. I'm the one who sent the key to begin with," he reassured. If only he'd left it on the bar stool, then it might be some other sod's issue.