Moonsong Glacier akiaguk ¤ {m}

It is, she confirmed. I would like to bless the caves as soon as we move in. I have a feeling the winter will be long, but with the proper prayers and the work of our people, we will be just fine.

Then, a thought, I will also work on making your sleeping place comfortable if you want! I will make many furs for you, so you do not get too cold—I cannot have you freeze! He was far too important to the pack! Tell me, are there any particular furs you perfer? I know you already grabbed one from the pile, but I would like to make you another.

She had requested a doe skin, which would be easy to acquire; as for the elk tooth, it would take some work but he would find some way to obtain it. It would require Kilgitsuk to find elk, first of all, and that might take him from the village for a few nights. He would manage it — perhaps with the help of Chakliux or another.

When Ariadne asked after his preferences for furs, he almost laughed, but swallowed instead. The use of furs was an interesting cultural difference between their people; he did not want to dissuade her from doing this if it pleased her, and yet he could find no words to explain how unnecessary it was. Kilgitsuk did not need to be warm to sleep; he had his winter coat, and it had served him well enough when sleeping in the snow. The snow itself insulated well.

If this is what Ariadne wanted to do to fill her time (as she was still healing, perhaps it helped to pass the hours) he would oblige her. I have no preference. I will be happy with anything you make, though. Your skill rivals your mother's.

Ariadne was flattered by his compliment. I will make you something nice and warm, she promised; it would have to be her best work yet. After this, I will have to stop making you so many and find new things to make you! she joked with a laugh. He was a man with northern blood, and she knew he could manage the cold without the help of furs.

Feeling that their time in this den was ending, Ariadne etched two horizontal lines to represent land and water, a marking which would bring luck to her hearth when she returned.

She turned to Kilgitsuk. Is there anything else you want to do in this cave before we take a look around for your sleeping place? I was thinking I could help you with that before we go back down. She glanced back to the common area and realized that she had forgotten all about the bundle she'd brought for them; they had a snack for whenever they needed it. Or are you hungry?

He had also forgotten what she had carried, and now as she looked to it his eyes followed.

We do not have to go. You brought takuak. It might do you well to have a meal before we head back down the paths. Had this been her intention all along? To get him alone and feed him more, speak to him of dens, and keep his mind on spring? Kilgitsuk found he did not mind the attention.

Come, she instructed, leading the way from her den to the common area where the pack would soon live. She unwrapped the bundle and divided the dried meat between them, giving him two additional pieces as she knew he needed it more than she; he was a giant, especially compared to her.

She took a seat and began to eat one of the pieces. Once it'd been consumed, she asked, I know I speak often of Sedna, and of blessings and altars ... do you share similar beliefs? Or what are the ways of your people? she asked.

They went to the most spacious room; it felt immesurably larger with only the two of them in it, and as Ariadne spoke her voice seemed so small, trying to fill the space with a subtle echo. She ate first and Kilgitsuk waited, eating only once she was done as a sign of respect for her, and listened to her questions.

They again made him feel like laughing, and instead he swallowed the jerky and gave her a wide smile, his eyes shining. Those of Tartok do not have faith in the otherworldly. I suppose you could call us... pragmatists, that way. We are raised to put our trust in our hunt-brother, and in our own bodies. He takes another piece, chewing thoughtfully.

It amuses me when you sun-people speak of Sedna; that is my mother's name. Kilgitsuk wondered if this offended her, or somehow meant something to her, but he soon was distracted by the meal. When he finished he was thoughtful and attentive.

Hm, she considered with a hum, thinking about what he said. Well, she reached over for his paw, smiling as she did so, I put my trust in you, Kilgitsuk. You are a good protector and hunter, and Moonsong is lucky to have you.

When he revealed the details regarding his mother, she felt something twist in her gut; as though some mastermind had put a puzzle piece perfectly into place. It is a lovely name, she said. Will you tell me about her?

If only he could show off the might of Tartok here! Telling the stories was one way, but he felt the lessons he had learned were too harsh, and the details too bloody, to be of great impact to her. It was kind of her to ask. He enjoyed having her attention, and feared he would lose it quickly if the truth came out. Kilgitsuk's people were not like her own — if these moon villages were filled with sunshine-people, his home upon the ice was filled with blood-hungry beasts. They were worlds apart.

As to his mother, his smile became something tight-lipped and serious, his eyes distant.

You must understand first, that the women of our culture are... not like you. Kilgitsuk did not mean to imply a weakness, only a difference, and was careful to choose his words. My mother was always singularly focused; she wanted a strong man to father strong cubs, and in our tradition she would have them prove their worth to her with hunting and fighting. She raised her children to think the same way. It was not a bad life, only different from what you are used to here in the south. He did not want to make it seem as though he was not grateful for his home; he missed it dearly, sometimes.

Sedna chose the strongest man. She wanted her children to be strong, and withheld much of what you'd expect from a mother, so that we would learn to trust our hunt-brothers, and become men that could be of use to our villages. The same was expected of her daughters — and she was heavy-handed, perhaps more with them. She raised daughters so that they would eventually leave and become matriarchs of their own warrior bands.

It was the most he had ever spoken of Sedna, perhaps ever; and once he could say no more, he left a silence for Ariadne to process and to ask questions, if she had any.

He finds an expression she has not yet seen; the tight-lipped stare is unsettling. When he finished explaining, she had many questions for him, although some were more pressing. Still, she could not bring herself to ask them—not yet.

She did not think any differently of him, only more curious. The upbringing that he described, the childhood led with a heavy-paw, seemed far behind him. From what she had seen, he was far from the blood-hungry man he had been destined to be.

Is this how you wish to raise your children? she asked, unable to help herself. She did not clarify which children, but the implication was there.

It is how I wished to, once. He answered with a great deal of pride to his tone, one which bordered on sorrow, before he could stop himself—and then he breathed a deep sigh, and oddly found comfort in the taste of Ariadne among the ice here. She was alive whereas the rest of the caves seemed dead in a still way, a frozen way, and briefly Kilgitsuk regarded her as one might regard a campfire as warm and comforting.

I do not know what to do about my future, was his candid answer, probing a little bit closer to what she might hold in her own mind. My sons are Tartok by blood but not by culture; they are sunshine-people now, which differs from what I think is right for them. Kukutux— he tasted that name and seemed to go cold again; it felt wrong to speak of her to her own daughter, and for a moment Kilgitsuk quelled his speech and looked upon Ariadne as if for permission to speak freely.

She has taken Kivaluk as her own son, and does not regard me at all with the respect of father. So I have lost one son for being too much like his blood-mother, one for being raised by kin-woman, and a wife — here his hurt flashed as anger for a moment and he could not look at Ariadne.

A wife who could not understand. He had tried, with Sakhmet. He had loved her fiercely, and thought of her as issumatar, and had truly believed she had become as strong and capable as those women of the north; but he also did not take in to account her own unique power that thrived despite the teachings he tried to impart to her. He saw now only failure in himself as a father and husband, failure in her as issumatar; and while he wanted to fault her for being a poor mother, he could not do that! She had been the best to their boys even if he could not see it at the time.

Kilgitsuk grumbles emphatically, shaking out his scruff to rid some of the tension he has built-up through his speaking; it helps a little. I'm sorry for all of this. These are things that are in the past and should be behind me, I do not mean to speak unkindly of anyone. He did not know why he spoke so freely of these things which were precious to him.

I know my sons are better without me in their life. It was the same with my own father—so it should not wither my spirit to see it happen. Of all the traditions to uphold from the north! Hah, he laughs ruefully at himself and his poor luck, and the situation, seeing it repeat. I suppose I should be pleased that some piece of Tartok remains.

He reveals himself to her unexpectedly, candidly, and vulnerably as he explains his trials and tribulations. She listens with rapt interest, taking it all in silently and giving him the space to speak.

When he mentions Kukutux, her frown deepens, but she does not speak on it—not yet. Instead, she stands and walks around to sit next to him, pulling him close as she looks up at him. You have nothing to apologize for, She pulled him closer, if allowed, keeping her eyes on his. You are allowed to speak of the past however you need to—especially if it is to help you feel better.

As for his sons, she disagreed, but she shook her head. I cannot speak as a parent, because I am not one yet, but I ... don't think they're better off without you ... because I know how much better I am because you are around.

If she held questions she did not speak them.

Instead, in the way only a woman could, she came to settle beside him and lend herself as comfort; more than being a listener to his story, Ariadne was easily affectionate and physical in a way that Kilgitsuk found endearing. She comforted the parts of him that were more restrained, and accepted all that he said without obvious judgement, against his expectations. So much like her mother! But better, he decided. Better because she had grown in to someone who could think outside of the bindings of previous traditions.

It was then that an understanding about his own situation flickered to life. His boys were different too. Kivaluk had thrived among the sunshine-people, rather than the imposition of Tartok; he could see things in a way Kilgitsuk could not, and he knew in that instant he should not demonize what he did not understand, but try to be better.

He breathed a deep, soul-wrought sigh and placed his chin upon Ariadne's shoulder, accepting the embrace — and then realizing he was perhaps being too forward! So he withdrew with a boyish smirk upon his face.

You are wise for your years, nuviyagnak. He had not yet let her go.

They embraced with a nearness that they had not experienced with each other, and it was something that Ariadne did not intend to let go any time soon. He withdrew slightly, but only to speak, and she adjusted herself to look at him and take him in.

She smiled, craning upwards, testing; what did he taste like? She wanted to know.

Kilgitsuk was aware of their differences—beyond their culture, there was a significant age gap; she was as old as his sons! It was not a fact he wished to dwell on and chose to ignore it, as a typical man. Instead he found comfort in her gaze, in her presence there with him.

He was not some shy child or inexperienced teen—he was a man who knew of desire, who had satisfied his own in many ways; with his ex-wife far from his mind in these moments, Kilgitsuk chose to focus now on the silence of the cavern and the nearness of Ariadne.

Once, Kilgitsuk had carried a bold spirit; it returned to him now as he moved to intercept her smile with a very forward kiss, sensing a flickering desire within her that would not go ignored. He had already pledged to hunt down whatever she desired for her altar—so why stop there?

When they kissed, Ariadne tasted passion and desire, and something awoke within her; she couldn't get enough of him. She was ravenous, as though starved, and she did her best to satisfy them both

Finally, she had to come up for air. Pulling back, fur askew, and her face flush, Ariadne looked up to Kilgitsuk with satisfaction; she found it strange that she could still taste him upon her breath, but she relished in it all the same. She had never been kissed before, and she'd remember this for the rest of her life.

You are great, she complimented, grinning broadly.

There were many reasons to kiss someone like Ariadne; some which were obvious to him, some which were very deeply hidden in his own psyche, but none of it mattered while the act transpired. He was perhaps feeling too exposed after the exposition about his family and his troubles; Kilgitsuk knew there were many men clamoring for Ariadne's attention but they were far away in this moment of privacy, of seclusion. The look upon her face was suggestive so he had not been afraid to take that cue and run with it.

She was hungry for the attention, he realized. As forward as he had been in the start, Ariadne was ravenous; and when they finally parted it was to give one-another space enough to breathe the same air, to feel the warmth of body against body; and when she spoke, he laughed! She sounded just like a girl of her age — but he too became like a boy younger by years than he was, filling the space with that moment of connection.

Kilgitsuk leans in as if to kiss her again but this time, he does not. He murmurs lowly to her: I could not stop myself any longer, Ariadne. I must have you his eyes said, of which he had no control; but the rest of him he could manage, and Kilgitsuk contained the familiar desire. It was not the right moment to take things so far.

”I could not stop myself any longer, Ariadne,” Kilgitsuk admits, though there is more that his eyes say. The touch of desire and the longing for more; she didn’t know if she could resist anymore either as his expression spurred her wanting.

And it is getting hard for me to resist again, she challenged with a mischievous look in eyes; take me she said. I have been wanting this for some time, and I must get what I can while I have it.

There was a fire in her that he identified with; it was similar in nature to his own when he was younger (when I was your age— he thought,) and the look in her eye now was his own, mirrored. The man lets out a groan of deafeat and throws his head back, hugging her a moment and then releasing her. Kilgitsuk cannot help the obvious attraction between them, but he can put a hold on his own impulsive nature, at least for now.

When he looks at her again it is with a juvenile grin, and he plays with his own frustration over the matter. You can have whatever you want, and I will make sure of it! But there were other things to consider, and Kilgitsuk being the matured party of the pair, thought of all the things they had discussed of their people, and their differences, and he thought also of Kukutux, and approval, and so much beyond the desire in his body!

Do I court you? He mused.

Do I do what the sunshine-people do, for once? Or should I challenge Chakliux, and Dutch, and any other men that winter dredges up for your affections? He's overt about things now, and while his voice is full of amusement he is to a degree, serious in his questions. What would you have me do?

There is tension between them that they both know cannot yet be released. Things between them were still too new, Ariadne too young, and such things would have to be approached carefully. But, in the meantime, Other things could be done, and she thrilled in delight as he asked the questions she'd longed to hear.

Kukutux's warnings went to the wayside; all other caution was thrown to the wind; she felt powerful at this moment with her village's strongest man offering what he did!

You do court me, she said, serious despite the playfulness in her voice. And you do the things of the sunshine people and of Tartok—you pay my price, and you ward off any other suitors, she pulled back, studying him, wondering what he'd make of it. If you succeed, not only do you get me, but you also get a place besides me as Head of village Moonsong. She felt the challenge would be worth it.

His laughter came again! This time, pulling Ariadne in to a brief spin around him before he stopped and carefully placed his forehead against her's, and spared soft kisses to her cheeks, her nose. Your mother will set a steep price, if any at all. This he expected, but he would find a way to do what must be done. As for the men, he held no worries. Chakliux was his hunt-brother and was presumed to be a formidable opponent, while the others — Kilgitsuk did not care! He would fight them all, if that was what Ariadne wanted.

He thought also of his sons — but why would they be against the happiness of their father? The mixing of their blood with that of Moonwoman's? Kivaluk was already her's; why not take a daughter of the mountain for himself? These were things he thought and did not share, while his eyes danced over her.

It will be done. If I have to throw every man off the glacier myself — a jest, of course or hunt every tuktu of the hinterlands. Kilgitsuk did not mention his self-doubt when it came to the village, and held no desire to be the head of it, but time might change his mind. For now his desire was for Ariadne and her happiness.

He accepted; she felt like she was about to burst into a million tiny pieces and float to the ground like confetti. Aya! she cheered, holding tight as he spun her 'round, laughing as he kissed her, and she returned such affections in full. Her kisses started on his cheeks and began to trail down his neck and to his chest, a nip replacing them occasionally. It will be steep, but you can and will do it, she had no doubt in her mind.

She swooned, holding him close as he described what he would do, and she began to kiss him again, all too swept up in the moment to think straight. There is another thing that I would like, she said suddenly, pulling back again, and although she was sure he'd accept, there was a sudden and unexpected meekness about her.

I do not want you to sleep under the stars tonight. I want you with me, here, in these caves.

It would be hard work, no doubt. Kilgitsuk wondered if Kukutux and Aiolos would accept him as son-in-law, or sooner drive him from the mountain! It was a problem for another day; now, here in the ice caves, he could forget his worries and find contentment with Ariadne, and life would be made simpler.

She spared him kisses, she teased at his fur, and he returned some of the physicality - mindful of her injury - and when Ariadne made her deepest wish known to him, he did not respond with words. It was easier now to let his body do the talking.

Kilgitsuk prided himself with being strong, adept in combat and in hunting, and rough when he needed to be. Such skills came to him easily enough as the attraction between them flared; he had been careful at first, soft and forgiving, giving Ariadne plenty of opportunity to change her mind between arrays of kisses; but then when he could not take the teasing any longer between them, he pressed her roughly against her altar to do as she desired.

Ariadne would leave the caves as a woman; their coupling marked the beginning of their courtship. She laid in his arms, sweetly preening at his chin when all was said and done. Words failed her, and she enjoyed the silence as she replayed it all in her mind's eye; it'd been better than what she'd expected; his skill lent to their experience, just as Chakliux had said.

You are great, she said finally, breaking the silence as she reached up and groomed the fur of his forehead. That was great—we do that again soon, yes?

Afterward he lay tangled against and beside her, and with her praises Kilgitsuk chuffed a laugh, and nosed at the nape of her neck. He whispered against her throat as he was tucked close, Often, and in secret.

He kissed her there and preened the fur of her cheek. In every room, before the others come? He laughed then, and quieted after, breathing the stillness between them that wasn't truly still; skin humming, hearts racing.

Yes, she agreed with a sly smile, liking how he thinked. It is a blessing on the caves—it will bring good luck to us all! She laughed; they were the lucky ones.

She enjoyed this moment of bliss, her thoughts far from what might come from this. She wore rose-color shades and cuddled into the man she was officially courting.