6th Day of Yuletide

The merrier festivities had wound down on another festive gathering in the long winter night and the storytellers were taking over.  The owls re-fluffed their feathers, there had been some excitement earlier with a snow-devil, and the foxes yawned and tucked their tails about themselves.  The storyteller smiled and picked up his pipes, a beautiful work of magic wrought of ice, unmelting.  He played a few hesitant notes, as if footsteps drawing nearer in the dark, and then picked up a cautious and hauntingly beautiful tune full of wist and caution and both hope and fear of the unknown.  Even immortals fear.  “I take you now back to the dark cavern where two souls were at last aware of the other, but only in the most obscure of senses.”

Meeting in a Cavern

The wind howled like a heartbroken demon outside

Flinging a massive winter storm about

Surrounding the tranquil cave at a distance

Whilst inside it was still and dark

The only sound quiet breathing,

And two sets of footsteps

Soft as snowflakes on the rocky cavern floor

Drawing closer, hesitantly, circling

Two strangers warily coming together

In the shattered aftermath of parallel paths,

It was the bard who broke the stalemate

“I am Jarel Frost and I seek the voice

That haunts the darkness with woe.”

It had occurred to him that a stranger in this place

Might well be that lonely soul,

The other paused in her circling and drew herself together

“I am called the Winter Queen,” she replied with cold certainty

Hesitating for a moment she resumed her slantwise approach

“I too seek a voice that haunts the winter night

“A lonely haunted voice.”

And while Jarel Frost was now assured

That hers was not the voice he heard

He thought he heard an undertone

That matched the wild loneliness

Of that haunted soul,

The Winter Queen was not so sure

For while his was not the lead voice

She thought it might, just perhaps

Be the source of the harmony

That had lifted the voice high,

Neither spoke of their suspicions

But as the storm raged about

They stayed together snug and safe

Choosing company over

The terrifying glory of the storm,

As they spoke of weather and other superficial drivel

That held far more meaning than either would admit

At least just yet

They found themselves moving closer in the darkness

Taking comfort in each other’s voice and breathe,

But as of yet the thought was merely fleeting

A faint sense of wistfulness not yet coherent

An echo of regret they barely realized

That as they drew closer without touching

There was no heat to share.