Living Fiction - Ch. 3 - Domestic (Patreon)

The sun was out, but it was doing very little to warm the frozen tundra they found themselves in. With hardly anything to be found as far as the eye could see, the only mark of civilization was the tiny cabin nestled near the edge of a small group of trees. Grey plumes of smoke were coming from the chimney, giving away the presence of life and fire within.

The entire area stuck out like a sore thumb from the barren drifts of snow stretching in all directions, but its remoteness was intentional. It was out here in this barren wasteland that peace was found...although the line between peace and isolation was extraordinarily thin.

“Brr…” Yang said, rubbing her hands up and down her arms while puffs of frozen breath slipped through her lips. The expression only caused Blake to look at Yang in confusion - not feeling at all what Yang was implying.

“Are you actually cold?”

Freezing in place, Yang thought about the question before dropping her hands.

“Uh, no. Not really.” Yang wore a bewildered look while trying to sort through her feelings, eventually giving up and shaking her head. “But I saw the snow and thought I should be.”

Smiling at the response, Blake rubbed her own arms to rid herself of the chill of suggestion. She definitely wasn’t as cold as she should be considering the freezing temperatures, but there was a hint of wintry weather in the air surrounding them. Whether that chill was real or not was the question...

“I did the same thing the first time I tried a chapter in the snow,” she admitted. “It’s pretty remarkable that some reactions that are so ingrained, we’ll do them no matter what.”

Wrapping her arms around herself and then dropping them with a shake of her head, Yang asked, “Like what else?”

Thinking of another one, Blake raised one hand to her mouth and pretended to yawn. A second later, Yang covered her mouth and yawned - hers much longer and ending with her shaking her head to wake herself back up.

“Ok -” Yang said, smiling once her yawn finally disappeared. “You totally got me there.”

Laughing, Blake found it impossible to prevent a smile when Yang looked at her so happily.

Yang’s company on this adventure had been completely unexpected, yet Blake was finding it more than welcome - especially when Yang was taking a deeper interest in the chapters Blake had chosen. It was pleasantly surprising that Yang was so willing and eager to learn more about these books, especially when Blake would love to have someone to discuss the stories with...but she shouldn’t get too far ahead of herself.

“So...are we supposed to stand out here or head into another strange house?” Yang eventually asked. Shuffling her feet, she nodded towards the small cottage - the only notable location in the vicinity.

“We should wait here first,” Blake answered.

“In the snow?”

“Is it bothering you?” she asked, amused by the expression Yang was currently wearing.

“No, it’s just...I keep thinking I should be cold!”

Blake chuckled at Yang’s bewildered tone.

“We’ll go inside soon,” she added as reassurance.

“Great, because I’m pretty sure I’m freezing.”

Laughing fully, Blake shook her head at Yang - who was far too pleased with the response.

Blake had expected Yang to have a good sense of humor considering how often her friends were laughing, but experiencing it for herself was a pretty remarkable feeling. It made Blake believe that Yang felt comfortable enough to make jokes - which made Blake comfortable enough to joke in return.

“If I had a jacket, I might offer it to you,” she teased, smiling when she succeeded in making Yang laugh.

At that moment, out of the corner of her eye, Blake noticed the door to the small house open. After she pointed that direction, they both turned to watch a young woman step out into the snow.

“Now she looks cold,” Yang commented, gesturing towards the woman’s outfit - a heavy coat, thick pants, high boots, scarf, gloves...she was as covered up as she could possibly be.

“Yes, because she’s part of the story while we’re not.”

“Kinda glad about that right now...” Yang muttered as the woman set off away from the front door.

“Come on - let’s see what she’s up to,” Blake said, trailing the young woman through the snow and around the side of the house.

They weren’t going very far. Along the outer wall of the cottage was a snow-covered tarp that the woman pulled back to reveal neat stacks of firewood stored underneath. Unfolding a large piece of cloth she’d brought outside with her, she laid the material out on the snow and began setting logs on top of it. As she moved two pieces at a time, a decent pile accumulated quickly.

“I feel like we should offer to help,” Yang said, motioning to the stacks of wood before turning to Blake. “I mean, between the three of us -”

When Yang suddenly stopped speaking, Blake looked over and found that Yang’s eyes were wide with concern.

“Blake…”

Taking a step forward, Yang put one arm in front of Blake and moved her a step closer to the house. Initially surprised by the uncharacteristic action, Blake turned around and found the cause of Yang’s concern approaching them from behind.

There was a lone wolf prowling through the sparse trees, crouching low to the ground as it crept closer to the unsuspecting woman. It was cleverly hidden - its white fur blending in with the backdrop of snow while its black nose and eyes looked like nothing more than small stones.

The appearance of a clearly aggressive wild animal was certainly cause for alarm, but this creature wouldn’t be able to harm them. It wasn’t even acknowledging their existence - its keen eyes focused upon the unsuspecting young woman instead.

“It’s ok, Yang.”

“I don’t like this,” Yang said, her arm still barring Blake from moving closer to the creature. “I don’t like this at all.”

“It’s going to be ok,” Blake reassured her. “Promise.”

The word put Yang more at ease, enough that she dropped her arm and gave Blake a nod, but her eyes never left the wolf as it inched nearer.

Finished with the stacks of firewood, the woman pulled the tarp back in place so the rest of the wood would stay dry - hopefully remaining dry through the remainder of winter. When the tarp was situated properly, she used two heavy rocks to weigh down the edges before dusting off her gloves and sighing.

“Come on…” Yang muttered, her eyes flitting between the woman and the wolf. “Turn around…”

Finally sensing danger, the woman cautiously turned around - and instantly spotted the approaching threat. The wolf froze for a second when it was spotted, but then continued forward with steady, measured footsteps. The distance between the two was quickly shortening - the woman running out of time before the wolf would be upon her. But when she tried to take a slow step towards the house, the wolf bared its teeth and snarled.

Blake wanted to watch the sequence play out but also wanted to watch Yang as she nearly fidgeted right out of her shoes with nervousness.

Sliding one foot backward in the snow, the woman tried not to make any sudden movements that would cause the beast to attack, while also coming up with a plan to escape the situation. She was too far from the front of the house to make a run for the door, and - thinking it would be a quick trip to collect some firewood - she’d walked outside without a weapon.

Now she watched the wolf advance upon her, and she could do nothing but wait - or try to run and be caught before reaching the door.

She opted to wait - looking almost passive as the wolf took one step closer, bared its teeth, and lunged.

Yang flinched forward as if she would try to help, but the woman already had a piece of firewood in her hand and swung just in time. A yelp rippled through the air as the wolf fell to its side in the snow, but it quickly scrambled to its feet and turned back on its intended victim - who now held the piece of firewood in both hands while holding her ground.

“That’s right…” the woman muttered while the wolf snarled at her. “Go find an easier meal…”

From mere feet away, the wolf bared its teeth while cautiously circling to the side. It was waiting for another opportunity to attack, and the woman was prepared for it to come.

But their temporary stalemate abruptly ended when the door of the house tore open.

“Grace!” a man shouted, leaning against the doorframe in nothing but a thin sweater and pair of fatigues. Immediately catching sight of the wolf, he actually took one barefoot step out into the snow. “Hey, get outta here!” he yelled, waving one arm in the air - being either fearless or foolish in the face of danger.

Startled by the additional company, the wolf backed up in defense while looking between the man and woman, trying to measure the amount of threat they posed. Deciding that the odds were no longer in its favor, the creature eventually turned and trotted away. At the edge of the small group of sparse trees it looked over its shoulder one last time, but then loped across the expanse of snow in search of a meal that wouldn’t fight back.

Sighing in relief - while Yang did the same - the woman dropped the piece of wood on top of her stack and picked up the ends of the cloth so she could drag the entire bunch towards the front door.

“Are you ok?” the man asked, taking another step into the snow while the woman dragged the firewood towards him.

“I’m fine, Micah,” she said, waving him out of her way. “Now get back inside before you catch a cold.”

He was still worried, but obediently moved aside before following her inside the tiny cottage.

“Grace -” he called out as they disappeared inside, leaving Blake and Yang out in the snow. 

“Ok, so she can take care of herself,” Yang remarked with an impressed nod. “Wolf, smolf - what was I worried about??”

“She can...but that was very sweet, by the way,” Blake commented, gesturing towards Yang’s arm.

“What was?”

“You were all...protective.”

It wasn’t cold outside (at least, not for them), so that couldn’t possibly be the reason behind Yang’s reddening cheeks.

“Well, I, uh, I have a little sister,” Yang used as an excuse. “I guess it’s kind of instinct.”

“How old?” Blake asked, allowing the more embarrassing topic to fade away.

“Two years younger. I guess I’m used to keeping her out of trouble - or trying to.”

Nodding at the new information, Blake thought it was a great explanation for Yang’s surprisingly nurturing personality.

“Only child,” she offered, pointing to herself and smiling when Yang grinned. “Now let’s get you inside before you freeze to death.”

“Oh, that’s right - yeah, so cold.” Yang briskly rubbed her arms before laughing and following Blake through the door and into the small cottage. They didn’t make it far into the tiny home before Yang looked around and said, “Wow - cozy.”

Blake nodded at Yang’s succinct and accurate assessment. The cabin was even smaller than Demetri’s house in the previous chapter - it was essentially just a single room crammed with furniture. The kitchen took up much of the left side of the house, with a small dining table that would be a tight fit for three people. The fireplace - which was currently lit and adding a faint crackling noise to the air - took over the right side of the room, with an assortment of cushions and blankets forming a makeshift bed directly in front of it while a small bed was tucked into the corner of the room.

“You’re hurt,” Micah said, reaching out with his hand only for Grace to slap it away from her.

“I’m fine,” she snapped, turning her arm and displaying a thin, red scratch that ran from her elbow to her hand. “It hardly touched me.”

“Let me help -”

“I don’t need your help.”

The answer was final, and Micah knew it. And, as much as he was concerned for her well-being, he’d learned by now that it was pointless to offer help if she didn’t want any.

“Ok…” he relented, taking a step away and raising his hands to show he was giving up. “I’ll just...tend the fire…” he mumbled before hobbling away, wincing in pain as he did so.

Now that they were inside, it was easy to see that Micah was injured. He moved with a distinct hobble, and there was a bulge of bandages around his left knee, through which Blake could see a dark stain of blood seeping through.

“Yeesh,” Yang muttered while Micah stuck a small log into the fire and used a poker to move it into place. “She does not like him.”

“He represents everything she hates in the world,” Blake replied, using a soft voice that felt appropriate for the general atmosphere in the cabin. “She blames him for her own losses.”

“Then why is he here?”

When Yang looked her way, Blake nodded towards Grace. In the midst of cleaning her wound, which was fortunately just a bad scratch, Grace glanced over her shoulder at Micah before letting out a soft sigh.

“Oohh...gotcha.” When Yang winked, Blake turned away as a blush rushed to her cheeks.

“It’s not like that,” she said, before adding, “Yet…”

“Right, but there's a reason she can’t keep her eyes off of him,” Yang teased, but when she turned towards Micah her expression grew far more concerned. “Other than the fact that it looks like he shouldn’t be walking…”

“He was shot in the leg, and she couldn’t leave him to die,” Blake explained, stepping backward as Micah limped over to collect another piece of wood for the fire. “And he probably shouldn’t be walking, but he doesn’t want to make her do everything.”

“Great. Two prideful people stuck together in a tiny cabin in the middle of nowhere.”

“Exactly.”

As the characters set about their separate tasks, Blake shook her head at their apparent determination to be as stubborn as possible. Doing so, Blake caught sight of Grace pulling their next meal from a bag she’d brought in earlier that day.

“Oh, you might want to look away.” Catching one of Yang’s shoulders, Blake spun her around before she happened to glance into the kitchen.

“Why?”

“Just...don't look over there for a little bit.”

“So look at you instead?” Yang grinned at the question - and that grin only grew when Blake blushed.

“You can look anywhere but in the kitchen,” she replied, her blush deepening when Yang chose to keep looking at her instead of turning away.

“How do they get food, by the way?” Yang asked, thankfully not turning around at the solid thud of a knife hitting the chopping board behind her. “It doesn’t exactly seem like there’s a supermarket nearby.”

“Grace can hunt and trap,” Blake explained, quickly moving on before Yang connected those dots. “She also grows food during the warmer months and preserves it for winter.”

“She’s super independent, isn’t she?”

“Very independent,” Blake agreed, sneaking a look over Yang’s shoulder and finding that the coast was now clear - Grace had moved on to chopping up a few vegetables to add to their meal.

“Can I ask you something?” Yang asked, catching Blake’s gaze and holding it intently.

“Sure.”

“Why’d you choose this chapter?”

The question was wholly unexpected because, quite simply, Blake had never had to answer anything like it before. Because she was always experiencing these adventures on her own, she picked the chapters based on what she most wanted to see and the emotions she most wanted to feel. More recently, her selections served a greater purpose of progressing a narrative she was hoping to accomplish - her ‘story made of stories.’

This particular scene, while relatively dull compared to the others she’d selected, was an integral moment - the discovery of tolerance between two people from vastly different upbringings.

“I guess...I wanted to feel this -” Blake gestured to the room, where Micah was poking at the fire while consciously not looking towards the kitchen, and Grace was preparing their meal while consciously not looking towards the living room.

Yang looked between the two hard-headed characters before giving Blake a quirky smile.

“The unbelievably thick tension?”

Chuckling at the accurate assessment, Blake nodded her head.

“Yes,” she agreed, waving Yang closer to the door so they could watch both characters at the same time. “I wanted to see and feel how they interact with one another. They have two completely different pasts, but necessity brought them together.”

“I could say the same about us,” Yang replied, grinning as she motioned between the two of them. “Except it was some magic bookmarks that brought us together. Well, those and my propensity to touch other people’s stuff without permission.”

Diverting her attention from the story, Blake looked at Yang instead.

“Is there tension between us?” Blake asked, wondering if Yang was feeling something that she wasn’t. Fortunately, Yang shook her head.

“Well, no…but necessity brought us together!”

“Did it?”

“Yeah, because if you weren’t here, I’d be so lost. It’s like you’re my tour guide on this journey!”

Faced with Yang’s beaming smile, Blake wanted to divert her gaze but didn’t - instead meeting Yang’s smile with one of her own.

Secretly, she enjoyed that comparison - as she’d gladly volunteer to be Yang’s tour guide through any journey. As she was just now learning, leading the way was enjoyable when she was with someone willing to explore and willing to experience the unknown.

“Happy to help,” she replied, nodding her head and feeling her heart beat rapidly - not slowing until Yang turned that blinding smile elsewhere.

“Ok, so she’s making something to eat,” Yang commented, moving close enough to Blake’s side that she could feel their shared warmth. “And he’s…”

Sitting down on the edge of a stool, Micah rolled up his pant leg and examined the bandages wrapped around his knee. There was still bleeding from the wound, but it was nowhere near as bad as it had initially been described - it was healing, but slowly.

“He’s not doing so great,” Yang surmised while Micah changed the bandages, wincing in pain as he did so. “It looks like he needs a doctor.”

“The closest doctor is too far,” Blake explained. “Especially with the unpredictable weather. He’ll have to stay here and stick it out.”

Shaking her head, Yang watched Micah wrap a clean cloth around his knee and roll his pant leg back overtop of it.

“Hang in there, buddy,” Yang said as Micah leaned back and sighed. Turning to Blake, Yang’s eyes then slid past and into the kitchen. Following the gaze, Blake caught the very end of the concerned glance Grace had sent Micah’s way.

But that was all there was to the moment, as Grace went back to her own tasks and Micah wiped his perspiring brow before searching for something he could realistically help with.

“She’s worried about him…” Blake said although she was sure Yang had already come to the same conclusion. “But she doesn’t know how else to help. And they’re not exactly communicating very well at the moment...”

"They just need to find some common ground," Yang mused, watching Grace set several dishes on the dining table. "Something they both have in common that they can talk about."

"Very astute," Blake said, smiling when Yang caught her gaze.

"I mean, I guess I'd call it common sense. Sometimes it's hard to find things to talk about, especially if you're nervous..." Yang’s thought trailed off, but then she coughed into one hand. "But sometimes it just hits you in the head! Or shoves you into a novel."

Blake agreed with that statement wholeheartedly. It had felt almost insurmountable trying to talk to Yang within the confines of the library, but with these stories tying them together, it was growing easier and easier to hold a normal conversation.

Although, how ‘normal’ could a conversation be when taking place within a novel?

“Food’s ready,” Grace said as she sat down in one of the chairs at the tiny dining table.

Pushing himself to his feet, Micah limped over and sat down across from her. He waited for Grace to serve herself first, but she piled food onto his plate while saving a much smaller portion for herself. He didn’t argue - instead, he quietly picked up his utensils and began eating. Grace did the same, and soon the cabin was filled with nothing but the soft sounds of silverware clinking against plates.

“Oh my god, this is almost physically painful,” Yang said, watching the two characters eat in silence.

“Their thoughts are internal at the moment,” Blake explained, but Yang shook her head.

“No, I mean I'm starving - and look at what they're eating! Damn, that looks good.”

Turning to the side, Blake could tell it was a joke by the sparkle in Yang's eyes. This was a hint of the version of Yang that Blake had seen from afar - the one who was almost always smiling about something. Up close, it was more than that. Yang didn’t smile for no reason - she smiled because she found a reason to smile.

“You're easier to talk to than I expected,” Blake confessed.

“Do I seem difficult to talk to?”

Feeling Yang’s gaze upon her, Blake watched Grace and Micah both reach towards the last piece of bread before flinching away from each other. “No…” she replied, “It's just that you're normally surrounded by other people.”

“Is that intimidating, or like...off-putting...to you?”

Blake turned towards the serious question and thought about her answer before replying. “It is a little intimidating. Personally, I've never found it easy to break into other social groups, especially uninvited.”

“Oh...” Yang mulled over that admission before smiling. “But you can totally talk to me whenever. I mean, I'd kinda like it if you did. If you want to. Don't worry about the other people - I see them enough already.”

Surprised and flattered by the open invitation - which was genuine enough that Blake might just take Yang up on the offer - she only tore her eyes away from Yang when she heard Micah clear his throat.

“You go ahead and take it,” he mumbled, nodding towards the piece of bread. Grace instantly bristled at being given permission to eat her own food, but held those biting comments at bay.

“You need it more than I do,” she said instead. With one hand, she shoved the plate over to Micah and turned away. She turned back, however, when he took the bread as instructed. Huffing to herself - somewhat in indignation, somewhat in annoyance - she ate another bite of her food with a frown creasing her brow.

Heart buzzing in anticipation at what was to come, Blake grinned at Yang and nodded towards Micah - watching as he broke the bread in half and deliberately put the larger piece back on the plate. When he pushed it over to Grace, she immediately lost the annoyed expression and gave him a look of surprise.

“This is just like the bread my mom used to make,” he said, tearing off a bite and popping it in his mouth. “She taught my sister, but...I wasn't expected to know things like that.”

“Oh my god,” Yang breathed out, her eyes glued to the table while Grace reached over and took the last half of bread. “They're going to bond over bread.”

Blake muffled a giggle at the comment. The way Yang was seeing it, yes, that was absolutely correct. This was the turning point in their relationship - and it had everything to do with a piece of bread and a small act of self-sacrifice.

“l could teach you sometime. If you want.”

Grace made the offer sound flippant and dismissive, but after surviving the harshness of the previous few chapters Micah knew it was as much of an olive branch as he might ever see.

“I'd like that,” he answered, smiling even though Grace refused to look his way. “If I ever make it home, Isabelle will be so surprised.”

“You'll make it home.”

The resoluteness in the response surprised them both, but Grace carried on regardless. “As soon as the snow melts, you’ll be well enough to make your way home. If the war hasn't reached us by then.”

Micah thought about the comment for several seconds before nodding his head and tearing off another hunk of bread. The table lapsed back into silence, but the tension had eased - as if the characters were no longer brooding over their own worries and were now willing to consider and accept the worries of those around them.

“He’s not going to leave her here, is he?” Yang asked while the characters finished their meal. “All by herself? When there's a war or something going on?”

“You'll see…” Blake replied, the words making Yang laugh.

“You mean I'll see once I read the book,” Yang clarified. “But I won't get to see now.”

“Oh. Right.”

Laughing again, Yang shook her head.

“This would've gotten me to read a lot more when I was a kid...”

When Grace finished her meal, stood, and picked up her plate, Micah practically jumped to his feet.

“l got it,” he said, gesturing for the plate in her hands.

“Micah, you can hardly stand -”

“l can lean against the counter,” he said before giving her a beseeching look. “You've done everything else - let me have a little pride?”

Grace was reluctant, but let go of her plate and watched Micah carefully stack them before limping over to the sink. Unable to help herself, she picked up the rest of the dishes and took them to his side, but after setting them down she moved back to the table.

As Micah washed the dishes, Grace watched. Her brow was furrowed at first, as if unsure how she felt about this change in their dynamic, but eventually she relaxed and a tiny smile slipped onto her lips.

And then Grace and Micah faded away.

“That's a love story waiting to happen!” Yang exclaimed, hopping over to where Grace had just been and turning back to Blake. “Did you see that?” she asked, pointing towards empty air. “She just smiled!”

“She did smile,” Blake agreed, loving Yang’s excitement in the story. It was remarkable to watch in person as Grace tried to be more reasonable, while Micah did everything in his power to repay her for saving his life.

The two of them weren’t meant to be together, but they could be together.

“The story gets better from here,” Blake added, the comment earning Yang’s full attention.

“Do they get together?” Yang asked. “Do they fall in love? Does the war reach them? Does he have to go back? Do they live here forever?”

Laughing at the rapid list of questions, Blake shook her head.

“You’ll see -”

“You just like saying that, don’t you?”

The question was teasing, but Blake thought about it seriously.

“Yes, kind of,” she answered, smiling when Yang laughed.

“I have so many questions.”

“Save them for the next chapter,” Blake replied, watching the cabin blur around them as the environment shifted away from this place.

The crackle of the fireplace disappeared, and the warm glow it generated was replaced by grey stone that was anything but welcoming. Worn tapestries that had seen much better days were hanging on the walls. The torches running along the massive hallway were lit - the flickering glow cast eerie shadows that leaped up and down the walls with a life of their own, but any amount of light was better than the darkness that normally shrouded these halls.

Staring at their new surroundings, Yang spun in a slow circle before her excited eyes fell upon Blake.

“But we’re already in the next chapter!”