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Frozen Shadow	By : FlayraDowitcher Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 1788 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. I am making no money off of this fic.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
***Warnings: Light yaoi, language, hunting
***Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. I am making no money off of this fic.
Chapter 3
'Good morning, Mr. Kirkland.' Bowed a young servant girl at the bottom the steps. Her apron and collar were pressed perfectly and her dark hair was up in a neat bun. In her hands she held his top hat and gloves.
'Thank you, Annabelle.' He slipped on his white gloves and placed the hat atop his head. He looked himself over in the umbrella stand mirror, fixed his collar, and checked the grandfather clock. 'Right on time.' The butler, Mr. Jeeves, wished him a good day and handed over his cane as he left the front porch to approach his carriage.
'Good day to you, Mr. Kirkland!' said the carriage man from his seat, tipping his round hat in greeting. The footman, a young boy, hopped off the back and opened the carriage door for him.
Arthur thanked them and took a seat on the cold red cushion. He hated this time of year in the mountains. Autumn was here, which means that soon winter will follow. The winters here in Montana could be wild, heavy, and LONG. Sometimes he wished to be back in England, where the winters were never so harsh. Tapping his cane end on the roof of the carriage, Arthur held onto the door handle as it jerked into motion. Today he had an appointment to go over some real estate; he was interested in buying another piece of land not far from the city. His goal was to build a couple of farms and possibly a ranch. There was money to be made in horse breeding and raising cattle. The lumber farm took up most of his time and finances, but in another year or so, his next step was to become involved with the railroad expansions.
He opened his silver pocket watch and gave it a little wind before checking the time. After this meeting, he would run a few more errands, meet up with the widow Arleen to discuss 'marriages', and then return home for a warm dinner and a good book in the parlor.
Back at home with a belly full of beef stew and good brandy; Arthur sat in his parlor chair near the fire, a book in his lap. Another servant girl, Dinah, brought in his evening tea and prepared it for him. He took the cup and thanked her, sending her away then so he could be alone with his book. Just yesterday he had finished Thomas Paine's 'Common Sense', a 'delightful' read from his standing. Now he was reading 'Uncle Tom's Cabin'. He was a few decades behind on this one, but Arthur tried to read as much American literature as he could. He took a sip of his tea and sighed with a smile. Leaning back in his chair, he stared at the fire for a few moments before closing his eyes to relax.
"Mmm…tea." Arthur spoke in his sleep, but slowly stirred awake at the smell of smoke. "Smoke?" Opening his eyes, he thought for a moment that his house was on fire. But reality immediately kicked in when he saw that he was still in Ivan's cabin. "A dream…" But where was Ivan?
Arthur sat up in the bed, holding his head when a wave of dizziness washed over him. His forehead was still sweaty, but he could feel that his fever was breaking. Ivan was not in bed, nor was he in the cabin. The fire had died, yet it was still dark outside. Maybe it was early morning? Still, where was Ivan? Arthur glanced at the weapon wall, finding that the gun and powder horn were gone. Did he go hunting? Perhaps there was a note. Carefully getting out of bed, Arthur wobbled his way to the table to search for a note but didn't find one. There wasn't even any food left for him. He started to grow worried with Ivan's absence. What if the Russian got eaten by a bear or was buried under the snow somewhere? Arthur realized he could die here without Ivan to provide for him. He couldn't believe that he was actually missing the big lummox. He didn't want to admit it to Ivan, but he really did need the man to care for him. In this winter world, he was a useless as a newborn babe.
Outside the cabin he heard the sound a wolf's howl, followed by more joining in. Arthur's blood ran cold. The wolves sounded very close to the cabin, as if they were right outside the walls! Arthur didn't know what to do. All he could do was remain inside and not make a sound. Did those wolves eat Ivan? Is that why they are howling? He knew next to nothing about wild animals. They had annihilated all the wolves in England, and they sure as Hell didn't have any bears! Glancing at the window, it was still too dark to see outside, and he wasn't planning on searching for the beasts either. Why couldn't it be a unicorn galloping outside instead? The door suddenly burst open and Arthur let out a high-pitched scream, toppling to the floor and landing head first into the soot of the fireplace.
"Arthur?" Ivan stood in the doorway, boots covered in snow and his gun casually resting on his shoulder. "Arthur, what on earth are you doing?"
Arthur, who let out a cough of black soot smoke, slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position. "I'm lying here because I like having my face covered in soot, Ivan. What the hell do you think I'm doing here?" he hollered. "Help me up!"
Ivan rest his gun against the wall and closed the door before going over to Arthur to help him stand. "Why did you scream? Did I scare you?"
"No! I was scared it might be a wolf!"
Ivan gave him a humorous look. "Wolves can't open doors, silly!"
Arthur clicked his tongue in annoyance at that little comment. "I know perfectly well that wolves can't- oh, forget it! Where the hell were you? Why didn't you leave a note?" The wolves howled again and he yelped.
The Russian's lips slowly grew into a smile. "I was only in the shed cutting up some meat from the deer. I brought the gun incase the wolves came for the smell of meat. Don't worry, Arthur. I won't let the big bad wolves get you."
Arthur sat himself down on the table bench. "It's not a joke, Ivan. Those things are beasts! Monsters!"
Ivan kept his smile. "They are beautiful creatures. They travel together in a pack and help one another survive. They work together. And they are beautiful to look at. Would you like to see them? They're right at the mouth of the woods behind the cabin?"
Arthur looked at him as if the man grew two heads. "Are you insane? I don't want to see those massive beasts!"
"They won't hurt you."
The Englishman scoffed. "Yeah, right. They're hungry beasts looking for food in the dead of winter! They'll gobble us up!"
Ivan just rolled his eyes with amusement. "You're funny. But are you feeling better?"
"A little." The howls made him shiver again. "I'm hungry."
"I've brought some jerky from the shed." Ivan took it out of his belt pouch and handed it to Arthur. "That will fill you for the morning. Tonight we will make stew for the snow."
"Snow?"
"Heavy snow clouds are coming this way. I'm heading out now to see what I can hunt for us, in case we are snowed in for a day or two."
Arthur froze, open mouth, with the jerky. "Wait…what? Snowed in? As in, stuck here?"
Ivan giggled. "You're stuck here anyway. Oh, but we'll have a lot of fun, Arthur! Don't worry! I know lots of stories to tell! I can teach you how to knit and make baskets! We can drink tea and- oh! Do you like ghost stories? I have many ghosts stories to tell!" Ivan's smile turned into a grin, and Arthur cowered slightly.
The promise of tea excited him. "Tea, you say? What tea do you have?"
"Tea leaves. I have spearmint and wintergreen right now."
"I would like some tea now, if you please?"
The Russian frowned. "No, no. Tea is for snowy evenings by the fire."
"But I love tea."
"You can have some tonight. Now eat up your jerky so I can go hunting before the wolves scare everything away." Ivan helped him back to the bed with the jerky in hand and gave him a cup of snow-melted water. "Here you are."
Arthur just nodded his head in thanks. The jerky was tough, and he had to tear at it with his teeth so much that it started to hurt his head. "It hurts to chew."
"That's all we have right now. Try to do the best you can. It helps if you suck on it to make it softer. I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?" He smiled at the Englishman. "Wish me luck?"
Arthur only waved to him as the large man in furs left the cabin. Alone again, Arthur lay back on the bed and sucked on the meat, staring at the ceiling of hanging bones. 'Why me?'
/
Ivan trudged through the snow in pursuit of a fox he had seen. He followed its tracks carefully, for what seemed like a long while until a flash of brownish orange darted out from a low holly bush. He aimed his gun and fired, striking it down with perfect accuracy. Trudging over to it, Ivan made sure it was dead before picking up by the tail to carry back to the cabin. If only Arthur would show more interest in the kills he brought back. He would offer the tail to Arthur as a gift, but the Englishman would just yell at him. Why did he always have to yell? Ivan was already growing accustomed to having Arthur here with him, and he doubt he would ever let the blonde go now. Arthur would come to like him soon enough.
Something moved in his line of vision up ahead, and Ivan stopped still as he tried to see what it was. A small form came out from behind a tree, it's fur covered in snow. Ivan smiled when he realized it was the lynx he's always seen in these parts; the lynx that reminds him of Arthur. The lynx was probably sweeter than the Englishman, Ivan said to himself with a smile. He silently watched the spotted wild cat climb a tree, bringing with it a rabbit. The lynx had just killed, as did he. Maybe one day Arthur would be well enough to see the lynx, with its stunning green wild eyes and graceful movements, yet can prove deadly when choosing to attack.
'Just like Arthur.' Ivan smiled and continued on his way.
Arthur had fallen asleep after Ivan had left and not woken up until he smelt the aroma of roasting flesh. Stirring awake, Arthur sniffed at the air, finding the smell to be pleasant and appetizing. Sitting up, he noticed Ivan standing in front of the hearth and cauldron, stirring its contents. Arthur smacked his lips and scratched the back of his neck, turning to glance out the window. It was too dark to see anything clearly, but it would appear that it was snowing outside.
"Oh, you're awake." Came Ivan's chipper voice. "I hope you are hungry!" he smiled with a ladle over his shoulder. "I caught us a mighty fat fox for our stew! Have you seen the snow?"
"It's snowing already?"
"Yes. You've been asleep for a long time. Come, I'll show you." Ivan took a fur cloak off one of the wall hangers and placed it over Arthur's shoulders. "We'll just stand by the door, so you will still feel safe. Don't worry, I'll keep you warm."
"I rather n-OT!" Arthur found himself lifted up into strong arms, bridal style, as he was carried to the door. Ivan lifted the latch with his foot and they were out onto the front porch in the dead of night, with the snow falling in silent flakes of white. "Isn't it beautiful?"
Arthur was going to protest, but then he felt a strange sense of, well, PEACE. The night was silent with the snow falling in heavy balls of white, covering the steps of the porch and some of the wood. Arthur couldn't believe how quiet everything was; as if every being, human and animal, were sound asleep tucked away somewhere warm. Unconsciously, he wrapped his arms around Ivan's neck as he continued to watch the falling snow. He felt the cold of the blizzard air, yet was warm in Ivan's embrace. Ivan held him as if he weighed nothing at all.
"Oh Ivan…it's gorgeous out here!"
"Yes, it is." Ivan replied softly. "If you know how to survive it, then the snow can be a beautiful sight to behold. One day, maybe, when you are feeling well to travel some, I will take you to the North Hills where we can see the Lights of Heaven touch the earth."
Arthur glanced up at him. "Lights of Heaven? What do you mean?"
Ivan just smiled. "I can't explain it to you unless you see it for yourself. Come now, the stew should be ready and I want to tell you a story." Ivan carried him back inside to the warmth of the cabin. "A love story."
"Oh…splendid." Arthur forced a crooked smile. "I…love…love stories?"
"It is more than a love story. It is a ghost story!" Ivan grinned. "A ghost story about love long lost in the snowy evenings of the dark woods!" He placed Arthur down on the table bench.
Arthur gave him a lop-sided smile. "Maybe a different story? Perhaps a happier one?"
Ivan pulled the cauldron handle out of the fire. "Why do you think the ghost story is immediately a sad one? It's a happy story."
"I don't think we need to involve ghosts in this…life. That's all. I do not believe in ghosts."
Ivan smiled with that ladle. "Then you have no reason to fear this story! First, we eat. As we eat, I will boil the water for our wintergreen tea. Then, we shall sit cuddled under the furs in front of the fire while we share tales. Surely you have a tale or two to tell yourself? My father said England is one of the world's most haunted places." Ivan handed him a bowl of fox stew.
Arthur accepted it. "Well…I guess that's true in a way…if you believe in that stuff." He took the spoon offered to him. "I don't remember being told fairy tales or ghost stories. My family always lived in the here and now."
Ivan nodded, pouring himself some of the stew to join Arthur at the table. "I understand. We folk of the woods have our own folklore and legend. Some of it has been passed down from the mountain Indians."
Arthur remembered Alfred calling them, 'Injuns', even though he was a 'Friend of the Red Man'. Arthur wondered if Ivan knew of any Indians here in the mountains? The city folk feared the Indian tribes riding into their city decorated in war paint and carrying bloodied tomahawks while burning down the buildings. "Do you know any Indians, Ivan?" Arthur asked him, taking in a spoonful of the warm soup.
"Ah, yes. I've met them; the ones that live around these mountains. They did not like that we were cutting down the trees, but once they saw my father and mother building a house, they left us alone. I guess they saw we were just like them, and the law of these woods is, 'if you don't bother them, they won't bother you'. Where my cabin stands is close to their ancient burial grounds. When you are better, I will take you there to see. It is quite a sight to behold."
Arthur imagined himself being scalped by some Indian dressed in wolf clothing and he shuddered. "I rather not, Ivan. It's a burial ground for a reason, yes? Let's stay away from it." He ate some of the stew. "This is really good! I'm pleased with it!"
Ivan clapped. "I'm glad you like my food! Shall I add more spices to it?"
"No, no! It's fine the way it is."
After dinner, the water had just come to a boil. Ivan lifted the kettle off of the iron hook and poured it into two cups. Arthur had settled down on the bearskin rub in front of the fire while Ivan waited for the wintergreen leaves to seep. Ivan went around the cabin and put out the candles and lanterns, leaving only the firelight. He knew Arthur was watching him as he did. Ivan handed one of the cups to Arthur before joining him on the rug. He sat close to the blonde, who immediately shifted to the side to escape him. Ivan said nothing in response but only tapped their cups together. It was Arthur who chose to speak first.
"This tea smells divine, Ivan. Thank you." He blew on the steam and gently took a sip. "Mmm…nice."
"I'm glad I can do something that pleases you." Ivan said sheepishly.
Arthur cleared his throat. "Yes, well, it's pretty hard to screw up tea. Tea is delightful in many ways." The howling of the wolves sent a shiver up his spine. "Bloody hell! Do those monsters ever be quiet?"
"They are singing." Ivan took a sip of his tea. "Just listen to them, Arthur. You are safe here in the cabin; they can't get to you. Listen to them in the silent night." Ivan smiled and put a finger to his lips.
Arthur grumbled a bit, but tried listening as Ivan suggested. Holding the cup of warm tea in his hands, he closed his eyes to try and hear the 'singing', which Ivan called it. The wolves all howled together with the winter wind bringing their sound closer to the cabin. Arthur glanced at the window where he could see the blowing snowflakes racing past the glass. His line of vision then focused on Ivan, whose body was glowing orange from the firelight. Why was the Russian staring at him like that? The whole moment appeared romantic, something Arthur did not want it to be. Best change the mood!
"So tell me a story, Ivan." He took another sip of his tea. "That love story you mentioned."
"Oh! You would like to hear it? Great!" He cleared his throat. "This story is called 'The Man, His Wife, and the Wolf'."
Arthur looked skeptical. "Is this a ghost story?"
"You'll just have to see." Ivan put his tea down on the floor. "There was a couple living in the woods not far from here. The man was great warrior and hunter; his wife a perfect cook and a great beauty. But the woman was his second wife, and he had an infant son from his previous marriage that died in childbirth. The man also had a wolf. A large black wolf that would hunt with him, and it was his most loyal companion. The wife hated the little child and the wolf, but the man could not see the hatred for he was so in love with her. She never cared for the gifts he brought her, or the food he would provide, or the way he saw fit to her every need."
Arthur sipped steadily at his tea.
"But she would not return his love until she had his full devotion, which meant she had to do away with the baby and the wolf."
"This isn't a love story." Arthur huffed. "I see where this is going."
"Who said it is love between a man and a woman?" Arthur was silent. "Now stop talking so I can continue. So one early morning, when the man went into town, she carried out her vicious plan. She slaughtered the baby in its crib, and that was when the wolf had attacked. Protecting the baby, who was already dead, the wolf continued to attack, and that was when the man came home. Seeing the blood of his child, and the wolf attacking his wife, he took his blade and killed the faithful wolf. To make sure it was dead, he lopped off the head and left the dark body to rot outside the home. The man was devastated to have lost both his child and his faithful pet, but the wife had finally gotten her wish, and they lived together happily. She was now all that he treasured."
"And what's the point of this story?" Arthur asked with annoyance.
"Did I say I was done yet?" Ivan smiled, drumming his fingers on his knee. Arthur gave a little sneer and fell silent. "To honor the memory of the faithful wolf so wrongfully killed, the powers that be gave all the wolves in the world the ability to howl. Whenever you hear the wolves howl, it is in memory of a faithful wolf killed so long ago while trying to protect his master's offspring. So you see? The wolves aren't always something to be feared. The wolf loved his master. They can be very romantic."
"In a literary sense." Arthur answered, but jumped when a wolf howled again. "I'm guessing THAT is for the dead black wolf too?"
Ivan smiled and nodded. "They say the headless wolf still wandered the woods and fields in search of his master."
"HA!" Arthur scoffed. "I thought headless monsters in America live only in New York!"
Ivan crossed his arms. "You mean to say that in England there are no headless monsters?"
Arthur thought for a moment. "I'm sure there are, but none that I know of. Anyway, headless monsters are just make believe. Nothing can think without a head."
"You don't know how to have fun, Arthur." Ivan said with a sad expression. "Half the fun of hearing a story is believing it to be true."
"Hm. That's plucky." He sipped more of his tea. "This coming a man who cannot spell properly nor can he read. If you were an intellectual with proper upbringing and schooling, you would see that there is no proof of monsters and ghosts and fairytales that cannot be explained through science and logic." Ivan just stared at him, and Arthur snorted into his tea. "You don't know about the real world, Ivan. You've never left this mountain. Of course you'd believe in stories of headless wolves and…and dancing bears!"
Ivan tilted his head. "I may not come from a rich house or a fancy school with lots of books…but I am far better of a person than you are."
Arthur narrowed his thick brows at him. "And your evidence?"
"Well, I'm happy being just who I am. I'm happy living here. I'm happy with my life. You may be smart and talk in big words and have lots of money, but you aren't happy at all. Not one bit happy. And that makes me sad for you."
Arthur's jaw dropped. Did Ivan really just say he was a better person than him? Arthur nearly dropped his tea in his anger. "YOU? You claim to be a better person than I? Don't be stupid! These primitive ways of living are just that! Primitive! You don't have to live in the woods to hunt for your own food! Go get a real job and make money! Live in a REAL house and buy REAL food from the market! Living like an Indian and a nomad is no proper way to live! Honestly! You're just a foolish as these American cowboys! Live off the land, sleep under the stars, listen to coyottas or…coyotes or whatever they're called! You don't know anything about me, Ivan! I am a very happy person! I loved my life before it was taken from me! Now I am stuck in this…this…smelly hellhole in the middle of nowhere! I'm eating food out of a crusty old pot and staring at bloody dried bones hanging from the ceiling! I'm wounded, I'm filthy, and worst of all, I'm stuck here with YOU!"
He shouldn't have said that, and Arthur knew it, too. He fell silent when he saw Ivan's face in the firelight. Ivan just looked at him, his pale violet eyes reflecting the hurt he must be feeling after that massive verbal attack. Arthur couldn't hold back when Ivan said he was better than him. Ivan was not better than him! He was better than Ivan! Still, the firelight reflected off those blades and weapons as well. "Ivan…I'm sorry for attacking you like that. I am grateful for you helping me…but it's just not the help I wished I had." Ivan's brows furrowed sadly. "What I mean is, I don't like living like this! I'm frustrated…I'm ANGRY that my life has changed and I'm stuck here in the woods during a snowstorm with wolves and bears and you slaughtering animals inside! I don't like it, Ivan! This is not the life for me! But I'm stuck here because I can't go back to the city! Do you know how frustrating that is? Do you know how depressed I am over it? How sad I am?"
Ivan suddenly stood up from the rug. "I'm sorry that I added to your sadness. I will sleep on the floor so you can have the bed."
"Ivan…you don't have to do that." Arthur said at Ivan's retreating form. "Look, how about we keep watching the snow?"
Ivan placed some loose furs and a blanket on the floor near the fire. "I don't want to look at the snow with you."
Arthur's shoulders slumped. Now he felt terrible, although everything he said was the truth. He himself knew that. He couldn't lie to himself. He hated this place, hated the lifestyle, and in a way, hated Ivan. There was nothing charming or special about the Russian man; he was just some big brute who lived the life of a mountain dweller. At least Alfred comes back to reality and proper living after his adventures; or at least, that's what the cowboy had told him. He missed the loud mouth cowboy. Oh how he wished he could hear Alfred's 'YEE-HAW' rather than these wolves and the whistling wind. Arthur waited until Ivan was settled on the furs, with his back facing the fire. Finishing his tea, Arthur carefully stood up from the floor and made his way to the bed. It was warm and soft, but it smelled. It smelled like himself and Ivan. Still, Arthur was exhausted and he left himself fall into a deep sleep. Things would look better in the morning.
Come the daylight, Arthur awoke to some strange sound outside the cabin. It sounded like…scraping? Sitting up in the bed, he rubbed the wound on his head and lifted himself to look out the bedside window. He couldn't believe the amount of snow on the ground! Nor could he believe what Ivan was doing outside. The Russian was shoveling the snow, mainly the front porch. Ivan had already shoveled a path to both sheds. Just how early had the man been up? Arthur looked to the table where he found a bowl and a cup waiting for him. Well, he had survived the night. Ivan didn't kill him, so the food wouldn't be poisoned. He sat at the table and ate quickly, refilling the cup again for more tea. Once finished, he decided to join Ivan outside, if only for a short time. Going over to the door, Arthur made sure his socks were secure on his feet as he stepped into a pair of Ivan's animal hide boots, probably the ones he wore in the summer and spring. Ivan's feet were big! Arthur took one of the fur cloaks and wrapped it over his shoulders, pulling it around his front tightly before stepping out into the cold. He shivered violently when he felt the cold bite at his skin.
"Ivan?"
Ivan paused in his shoveling to look at him. He was dressed from head to toe in furs. "Arthur?" his breath appeared as he spoke. "What are you doing outside? Go back inside before you catch a chill."
Arthur wondered why Ivan wasn't mad at him for last night? He was talking as if nothing happened. "I was wondering where you were."
"Hoping I was swallowed up by the snow?"
'There's the hostility.' Arthur said to himself. "No. I was just wondering where you were. What are you doing?"
Ivan returned to his work. "I don't know what I'm doing. I didn't read it in a book, so this must look silly to you." He said with sarcasm. "I'm shoveling the snow so I can move around my property easily."
"Very funny." Arthur said with a sneer. "I was going to thank you for breakfast, but now I'm not going to."
"That's fine. You wouldn't mean it anyway." Their eyes met for a moment, and Arthur looked away.
"It was better than nothing. Like I said last night, I appreciate what you are doing, I just wish it were different. Like what I was used to. That's all." Ivan just shook his head and continued shoveling. "Don't you shake your head at me!" Ivan finished shoveling the last bit of snow from the porch.
"Does that make you angry too? I can't shake my head?"
Arthur growled. "You're shaking it as an insult to me! Now you're the one being rude! I was trying to be nice to you before but you decided to be an ass! Now we're equal."
Ivan laid the shovel against the wall of the cabin. "No. We're not equal. You will never see me as your equal, yet I saw you as mine." He stalked up to him, and the Englishman cowered just slightly. "You are a man, the same as I. We may live differently, but we are still humans. I was acting on human compassion. I saw a man who was deathly wounded. I could have left you, but I hoped I could save you, and I did. I'm sure that now, if the roles were reverse, you would simply leave me there to die in the cold."
"How would you know what I'd do?" Arthur snapped back at him.
"Because you are a selfish person. A selfish, self-centered, rotten little man who hides his unhappiness behind business and money."
"That is unfair to say. You don't know me."
"And you don't know me. You think you know me, but you don't." Ivan looked at the bandage on Arthur's head. "We need to change that. Come back inside and we'll get you new cloth."
Arthur would have protested, but the cold was getting to him and he wanted to be warm. He sat on the bed and waited for Ivan to undress of his furs. The Russian took out a small tin box from a trunk and brought it over, pulling up the chair to face him. Arthur looked into the box when it was opened on the bed, seeing bandages and bottles of medicine.
"Turn your head slightly." Ivan said to him.
Arthur did so, cringed when Ivan touched the wound, and the settled as the cloth bandage was untied from around his head.
Ivan left the square bandage covering the wound, seeing the dark brown splotch there. He did not want to remove this one yet so to give the wound more time to scab up. If he pulled it away now, the wound would bleed again. Instead, he took some herbal salve onto his fingers and rubbed it over the bandage. Its contents would seep in and further the healing process. As he tied the cloth bandage around Arthur's head once again, Ivan wondered why he even continued helping the ungrateful man. Last night's words had really hurt him. Ivan had never met a man as cruel as Arthur. The lynx in the woods would be sweeter!
"How does that feel? Is it too tight?"
Arthur waved his hand. "No, it's fine. There's always a dull ache but I'm used to it. Thank you." He watched Ivan put away the medical box.
"I'll mix you some of the sleeping medicine so you can rest. I still have work to do in piecing up that deer." He made Arthur the medicine mixture and gave it to him.
"Thanks. Are we having the deer tonight?"
"Would you like to?"
Arthur shrugged his shoulders. "I've never had deer before. I don't think I have, anyway. I'm rather fond of pheasant."
"Well, I'm too stupid and dim to shoot at pheasants." He smiled. "So you'll just have to deal with what I bring. Rest well."
Arthur sneered at him. "Bastard."
/
That night, while still sleeping on the floor, Ivan had a dream about Arthur. A very sensual dream.
He was hunting in the woods when the lynx with green eyes came to him. Ivan followed it to his cabin, where it went inside. Taking his gun, Ivan approached the cabin and went inside. There, in the center of the room, stood the lynx. The two mammals stared at one another for a moment, and the lynx suddenly transformed into a person. Not just any person, but Arthur. A very naked Arthur. Ivan stared at the creamy body and lithe muscles of the Englishman standing proudly before him. Arthur, wearing a smirk, arched his narrow hip and held his arms out to him, beckoning him to come. As if in a trance, Ivan walked towards him only to have Arthur move out of his path. Arthur purred sensually, sauntering over to the bearskin rug. Ivan watched, aroused, as the man fell onto hands and knees, arching his back and stretching his body, just like a feline. A dangerous feline.
Ivan undressed himself and joined the other on the fur. Arthur sat on his knees to meet Ivan's height, and he leaned in to press warm lips to his. Ivan moan into the kiss, slipping his arms around Arthur's narrow waist to pull the naked body up against his. Arthur opened his mouth for Ivan's tongue, and the blonde groaned as his mouth was explored. Ivan bent him back, laying Arthur on the fur and settling between his legs. As their groins met, Ivan growled in delight as the heat erupted between them. He rubbed himself against he other's hard warmth while the blonde mewed and purred for more of the delicious attention. Just before he could enter into that welcoming body, he jerked awake to the sound of whistling wind.
He looked under the covers to see he still had a raging hard on, and Arthur was sound asleep on the bed. He looked at the sleeping blonde and remembered the dream. Would Arthur ever act that way? Probably, but never for him. Ivan rubbed himself, holding back his moans as he palmed his groin to get the erection to go down. It was in his right and power to have his way with Arthur, but that wasn't the right way to win the Englishman. Even though Arthur was a mean and rotten teabag, he was still company. Lusting after the man was something he shouldn't do, but he couldn't help it. He was here all alone with a warm, helpless body in his bed. How could he not be horny?
'Maybe if…' Ivan got up from the floor and went over to the bed, staring down at Arthur's sleeping form.
End Chapter 3 TBC
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Frozen Shadow