AUTHOR’S NOTES: Again, this fic revolves around the manga, only this time, it’s based on a specific chapter. In manga 6, I believe, our favourite five lose their way in a snowstorm. We are told what happens between Carrot and Chocolate who so convienently got lost together, but nothing is mentioned about how Gateau, Tira, and Marron fared that night, or how they found eachother again. This is what I think happened. Knowing me, you can probably guess where it’s going ^_-

Alternating P.O.V.’s ... this ‘~!~!~!~!~!~’ indicates a change in the narrator. I just hope you can tell who’s who ::hopehope::

WHAT I ASK OF YOU: It’s hard to write a good shippy fic with these two because they so bloody different. What I’m really looking for is whether or not you think they are in-character and if you think the way I present them is at least somewhat accurate. Also, you could put in your thoughts on this style (I’ve never tried it before. This first one was a tuffy for me). Please read, review and tell me so, okay?

WARNINGS!
Shonen-Ai (with a bit of Yaoi), Language, Adult situations and all like that.

RATING: PG-13

Through the Breaking Ice
By: Fala ‘Blimey’ Tzipori

There were two indistinct shapes. That was as far as I could tell at the moment. One was a dark shadow, not quite beside and not quite in front of the other, which was so bright I had to blink several times before my waking eyes could tolerate it. As my mind swam to coherence through a sea of grogginess and my vision repaired itself, I came to realize that the darker of the shapes was actually my warrior-comerade. Gateau was sitting beside a small fire (which happened to be the bright whathaveyou), warming his broad hands. It was then that I realized how very cold I was. This could have been due to the fact that I was lying on my back on what felt like stone. I vaguely lifted the hand that was resting on my chest and let it inquire of this for me. Touching the ground, I found that it was, indeed, stone, as were the jagged walls that surrounded me. Stone below me. Stone beside me. Stone around me. A cave. What was I doing, lying on my back in a cave...?

~!~!~!~!~!~


I heard a slight shuffle off to my side and noticed him stir. He was finally awake. Good gods, I swear that boy makes such a shit about Carrot that he never stops for one bloody second to worry about himself. Probably the reason why he fell through that ice. So fixed on finding his brother, the dingbat didn’t look where he was stepping. Not that I didn’t pity the poor guy, but it probably served him right. His heart’s in the right place, I guess... and looking at him over there (he was shivering like a kitten up a tree), I couldn’t help but feel sorry for the little bugger.

~!~!~!~!~!~


“Good to know you’re still with us,” my team mate said, shuffling in my general direction and stopping beside me. Looking up, I saw him leaning over me, his cheerful trademark grin overshadowed by the slight hint of concern that silvered his sky-blue eyes. That was a look I’d never seen him give anyone else. It was for me, and me alone. It made me feel uneasy, but there was something within me that didn’t mind. Not at all.

I voiced the question at the back of my mind, “What happened?”

Gateau exhaled as he turned slightly to fan the fire with one of my wards. I was beyond the point of troubling myself over how he had procured it.

“We got seperated, remember?”

“Somewhat...” I answered truthfully.

“Chocolat and Carrot got blown off course, so to speak” Gateau continued, keeping hs eyes on the small fire he was tending, “Then you went absolutely apeshit, what with your brother gone and all. Gods, I never would’ve thought someone as quiet as you could keen like that.”

I felt a slight prick of shame at his words, for they were somewhat bitter, even if only slightly.

“Anyway, you ran off in some random direction and ended up falling through some ice. You can thank me any time for saving your ass because I froze mine off when I dove in to get you.”

The thorn that had plunged into my heart buried itself a little deeper. I myself found it hard to believe that I had reacted that way. I can’t help but feel he was exaggerating, for I am usually quite good at handling tight situations. However, I am, after all, very protective of my family (what’s left of it), and from that view, I suppose it did make sense.

Finding I had enough strength and wits to at least sit up, I did just that. My clothing was still quite wet and either stuck to my skin or slid heavily against it. Trying to ignore how irksome this was, I spoke.

“I am grateful to you, Gateau, and I apologize for the trouble I have caused.”

To my mild surprise, Gateau made a dismissive gesture and his tone switched from bitter and demeaning to casual and colloquial, “Ah, it’s nothing. After all...” he turned to offer me a coquettish wink, “It’s not like I’m gonna let a body like that go to waste.”

I couldn’t help but shudder. And not because of the cold.

~!~!~!~!~!~


Heh, I think I struck a nerve, Yay, go me. Gods, Marron is funny. I mean, sure, if you’re talking about personality, he’s like an ice cube, and when he does openly react to something not on the subject of his brother, it’s an event. That’s why I can’t help chuckling at even the slightest twitch of his eyebrow or the quirk of his lips. I love getting a rise out of him, as sadistic as that sounds.

He noticed me snickering and cocked his head like a confused puppy (aw, how cute... did I say something? nope.).

“What is it?” he asked.

“Oh nuthin,” I replied, my voice plastered with cheesey innocence. He gave a little shrug and suddenly became fascinated by his fingers.

“So,” he said, after a longish silence, “What happened to Tira? Is she all right?”

“She left just before you woke up. Went out to look for the idiot...” I snorted, “...and his stalker.”

He frowned (Score three more points for me. And the crowd goes wild). I suppose he rather disliked my choice of words, but he soon put that past him.

“She’s out in this mess? Won’t she get lost?”

“Look over there,” I said, pointing across the cave at a messy heap of wire, beside which was an empty spindle. The long strand of wire was feeding toward the entrance of the cave and glinting slightly in the firelight.

“She tied the other end to her battle outfit so she could follow it back,” I explained, “Always knew those D-rings were good for something.”

Marron gave a single sharp nod, but looked somewhat disturbed.

“Tira...” he started, his voice sounding dangerously tight. Marron is scary when he’s miffed. Uh oh...

“Tira is out there?” he asked rhetorically, moving to stand, “I should be the one to look for them. I’m Carrot’s brother.”

He wobbled. I somehow managed to throw my arms open in time to save him from a having his pretty little head broken open on the cave’s stone floor.

“And Tira is Chocolat’s sister,” I said matter-of-factly, looking down at where he had fallen against me, “Besides, you’re in no condition to be going out into a blizzard.”

“I’m fine, Gateau,” he said, pulling away from me, his voice smooth and cold with a hint of irritation grating into it.

“Oh no you don’t,” I scolded good-naturedly, trapping a pale wrist in each hand. Gods, but Marron was skinny. My hand could have wrapped twice around his arm. That could also be because I have pretty big hands, but still... I found myself pondering over Marron, how cold he must’ve been, all skin and bones, not to mention soaked from his little ice adventure.

And he still wanted to go out into freezing cold to find his idiot brother who was probably shagging that redhead ho-bag out of sheer desperation for warmth.

The guy might be a walking, talking encyclopedia and an authority on just about anything, but there are times when even the smartest of us can be as stubborn and stupid as a stuck pig.

~!~!~!~!~!~


One knows better than to stir up trouble when one is on Gateau’s bad side. He does cut a rather imposing figure. I had however scattered my own fears and concerns for myself to the winds at this point. All I could see in my mind was an image of my only brother, collapsed in an inert heap, fresh snow nuzzling against his body, the wind ruffling his hair...

“Gateau, you of all people should be able to understand,” I said in quiet but nonetheless firm protest, trying to ignore his grip on my wrists, “My brother is out there. He could be dying. You know how it feels to have lost a sibling.”

A warm flare of triumph fanned briefly within me as I noticed the softening of his expression, and my wrists were released. I had struck a nerve with that statement. Gateau’s younger sister had been kidnapped when he was a boy. Eclaire was all he talked about at times. I could tell that the loss pained him more with every day that passed. Needless to say, family was a sensitive subject for him.

Gateau said nothing, his gaze fixed upon the cave’s cold floor.

“You know the pain of such a loss,” I stated, rising to my feet, slowly so that the shakes that wracked my rather weary frame would not show, “And I would prefer not to know it,” I concluded. With that, I turned. With one hand against the cave wall for support, I gingerly made my way toward the cave entrance.

I did not hear Gateau move to stand. Nor did I hear him coming toward me. All that I heard from him were four words.

“Sorry about this, Marron.”

Then came the pain, exploding through the back of my head. Then the thump of my body falling against his. Then my world went black.

~!~!~!~!~!~


He came to more quickly this time, first looking up at me, then down at his arms when he realized he could not move them.

Even though I was carefully dabbing at the bruise my fist had left at the back of his head and I was doting on him like his mum probably used to, there was an unmistakable flash of anger in those dark eyes when they left his hands and looked back up at me. Not that I could blame him, really. It probably wasn’t very comfortable, but it had to be done. He would’ve gone out into that storm and made himself into a Mage-sicle if I hadn’t stopped him.

Understandably, though childishly so (he was probably just too much of a self-righteous son-of-bitch to admit that it was for his own good), he was expressing his feelings on the matter through his eyes, and it was certainly not gratitude he was projecting through that iced-ink gaze. Gods, you’d need some DAMN good sunglasses to withstand that glare. Ouch.

I didn’t know what to say to him. Was there anything that I could say? Anything about what I did being for the best would’ve just pissed him off more.

More than a little clueless, I trekked the few steps between myself and the fire and had a seat, turning my attention to the flames. As I began fanning them with the ward like before, I noticed that Marron hadn’t budged. He was shivering in his damp robes and hadn’t taken his almost hateful eyes off me.

Despite the poisonous stare, I decided to try to be nice. Or least talk some sense into him. How ironic that I should be the sensible one when I’m alone with Marron. Hmph. Wierd.

“Well, don’t sit there shivering. You’ll catch cold,” I said, making a coaxing gesture with my hand, “Come over by the fire.”

The mage then squared his shoulders in defiance and scooted away on his ass until his back was to the cave wall. Once he stopped, he simply sat, still as a statue and glared at me for all he was worth. What a bitch.

Peeved and past being considerate, I returned the frown and threw my hands over my head, “Fine, sit there and freeze. See if I care.”

That said, flopped huffily down on my side, facing the fire and closed my eyes. It had been a long, tiresome day and I was keen on getting a little shut-eye. Sleep, however, evaded me, for I could feel those contemptuous eyes boring into my back like obsidian drills.

~!~!~!~!~!~


He had bound my wrists. I still can’t believe it. It’s beyond appalling that he would treat me in this way. It had previously occured to me that no other man or woman held his favour the way I did. He was always concerned about my well-being, he never left my side during journeys and battles alike. I would not be surprised if he leapt infront of me to take a blade that was meant for me. Something told me he meant well, but this was completely unnacceptable. While I was comotose, defenseless, he took the liberty of tying my wrists together and securing me to a rock protrusion. And with wire no less (he must have cut it from what was previously wound around Tira’s own spindle. If it had been rope (I suppose he used the wire because it was all that was available) it would have been horrible enough, but wire is completely intolerable. Especially when it is wrapped so tightly that the slightest move meant risking a skin breakage. Such was the case here. It was tight. Gods, was it tight...

Besides the pain, it was also degrading to be restrained in this way. Like an animal. Like a poor beast who seeks freedom, only to be pulled back and placed into a gilded cage.

Struggling against the wire, I knew, was useless and dangerous (I was already bleeding a little from where I had wrenched my wrist against the restraints when I woke up.

Even now, the brute was lying on his side, basking in the warmth of the fire. Contempt flared within me.

Oh, but I was tired. So tired... Tension must exhaust me (since it is such a rare occurance as far as I’m concerned). My eyes refused to stay open. Before I knew it, I had fallen to the side and was dozing into a discontented slumber.

~!~!~!~!~!~


I can’t say that I didn’t feel at all guilty. I did. Even to this day, I still feel bad about what I put him through. Maybe it was a little extreme, but I couldn’t have him running out to his death like an idiot. My mum used to say that it was better to fly by the winds of caution. That was before she was killed by that goddam sorcerer of course. Stupid magic-flinging yuppies, thinking a little hocus-pocus makes them better than the rest of us. Yes, I am bitter and I am prone to grudges. Bite me.

Either way, I was sure I had done the right thing, but I still couldn’t help feeling a little pang of guilt. Marron must have been pretty miserable. Like I said before, I could almost feel him glaring at me.

It wasn’t until a few hours later that I would cave. Gods, I’m such a bloody softie. Everyone sees this beautiful brawn, these rugged good looks and the mean punches I pack, and either swoon and melt in little puddles at my feet, or they assume I’m just another macho chauvinist pig whose heart is as calloused as the soles of his feet (and before you ask, yes, I do have rather... unpleasant feet, hence my habit of never taking off my boots. Be glad of it. I’m performing a public service here). People who don’t believe I’m gay don’t know how sappy I get sometimes. Oh well. Anything for the one I love, I guess. See? There I go again. Shit on me.

~!~!~!~!~!~


I awoke to a touch that was foreign, but warm. Blinking, I looked down at my arms to find two broad hands fidgeting in the vicinity of my wrists. I looked up at the owner of those hands in silence. The look in his eyes was sincere.

“I thought it over,” he said simply, “If you want to destroy yourself, I’m not gonna stand in your way. I’m not about to make those choices for you.”

I said nothing. I was too much in awe of his words and his actions. It wasn’t like Gateau to let me fling myself at the jaws of death. When the situation was precarious, he absolutely fawned over me. I remember when we were in the midst of our first encounter with Sacher Torte, and I was thrown against a stone wall, causing considerable damage to my torso. Apparently having noticed that the injury had left me almost unable to walk, Gateau had followed me like a puppy as we were making our way home, one of his hands constantly at my hip as a means of support. He did not leave my side until I was resting safe and sound in a cot back at Mt. Hordic’s hospital wing. Such was his way. He was almost as protective as I was. And now, here was telling me to go play with fate. What also surprised me was how those huge hands of his, which could tear spellbooks in half, could be so gentle. Maybe there was something beyond his iron will, something about him that I hadn’t seen before. Maybe, there was something about me that brought it out...

A few artful twists later, the wire was sliding off my skin as it was gathered up by Gateau. He tossed it haphazardy to the side and stared at it in dumb silence for a moment before returning his gaze to me. He looked at me almost as though he wanted or expected something of me.

“There. I let you go,” he said, seemingly aware that he was stating the obvious as he gestured vaguely toward the mouth of the cave.

I didn’t move. I simply stared at him not really feeling or thinking anything except a sort of awe with a dash of curiousity. My reaction (or lack thereof) seemed to pique him, for he heaved a sigh that said he was exhausted in more sense than one. I suppose I could not blame him. I had, after all, given him a rather hard time that evening. It was then that I realized that I had been nothing but trouble to him, and he had shown me a ridiculous amount of patience. I was suddenly ashamed.

“Dammit, what do you want from me?” he said, more than asked, sounding almost disgusted. The question shocked me. I was confused. There was nothing I wanted from him. At least, I was pretty sure there wasn’t. Either way, I did not answer. (Could not answer)

This seemed to frustrate Gateau even more, “Gods,” he exhaled more than said, “Why do you hate me so much?”

As blunt as this inquiry was, it was at this point where I finally found my tongue, “What makes you think I hate you?”

“That is,” he snapped, his eyes a fierce, molten shade of blue, “that way you always talk to me or look at me, it’s always the same. Cold. I try to keep you safe, you want to go snowstorm-hopping. I say go ahead, you don’t budge. I offer you a life of love, you give me the silent treatment. Why don’t you just say an answer right out?”

Before I really had time to formulate an answer, one simply rolled off my tongue, “You never asked me right out.”

~!~!~!~!~!~


“You never asked me right out.”

What the hell?! But leave it to Marron to explain before I even ask him to.

“You were no less indirect toward me, Gateau,” he stated calmly, as if he were dicussing the weather (gods, his indifference bugs the hell out of me sometimes), “Whatever it is you mean about offering me a life of love... If your way of offering me something such as that was to leap infront of me and strip, you can hardly blame me for being unclear as to what your intentions were.”

GGGOOODDDSSS!!! WHY!? THE?! HELL?! DOES!? HE?! HAVE!? TO!? USE!? THOSE?! BIG!? WORDS?! I took a moment to process that statement (I swear I could hear the wheels in my head turning). After a little thought on it, I was a little surprised to realize how very right Marron was. I hadn’t been very clear to him what I wanted. Marron is the no-shit-sherlock kind of guy who wants everything in writing and said in the most idiot-proof way. It’s a given that one usually tries to beat around the bush a little before asking for a hop in the sack (Marron is not the ‘Nice shoes, Wanna fuck?’ type), and Marron doesn’t exactly need things spelled out for him. However, I guess I should have been a little more... careful in my courtship. Hell, looking back, I feel dumb as shit. Gods.

“So,” I said, returning to reality after my little space-out,”If I ask you straight out, will you answer me straight out?”

Marron looked hesitant. He lowered his eyes and answered guardedly, “I will try.”

“Okay,” I said, sitting back and thinking about just what it was that I wanted to ask of him. Gods, but how could anyone think when they were on the recieving end of that laser-intense gaze?

It finally came to me. If I asked him to do something rather than answer something, I would get a definite answer for sure.

“Tell me you don’t want me.”

Marron stared for a minute. He apparently had not been expecting that. Then, he scowled at me. He seemed to think this was rather unfair of me, but to hell with that. All’s fair in love and war, la. After putting up with all of his cryptic bullshit, I deserved a clean-cut answer. But I was not expecting him to respond the way he did and his words sent shockwaves through my mind.

“Why should I say that when I’m not sure myself?”

~!~!~!~!~!~


Did I really speak those words? Yes, I suppose I did. They were words from the bottom of my heart. They were the truth, and nothing more. The truth was all I could say.

Gateau was not expecting this answer, I do not think, for his eyes flashed shock when he heard my response to his request. A frigid silence hung over us, like night had fallen, and he and I were the sun and the moon, respectively, hanging in conjunction.

As I looked more deeply into his eyes, I deciphered rings of contemplation hidden behind the brilliant blue of shock. It was as if he was pondering what would happen next...

I suppose this assumption was right, for the moment of stillness passed at a crawl. Then, he lunged forward and seized me, putting his lips to my own.

And somehow I didn’t mind very much. No. I didn’t mind at all.




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