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Chapter Text

The winters had always been hard since his dad died. The walls of his tiny one-room shack were drafty as hell, his blankets were threadbare, his hearth was leaky. Game was scarcer and foraging was mostly nonexistent, and his neighbors with chickens and goats had always charged him extra for eggs and milk. Each winter Keith survived was one that he survived by the skin of his teeth, barely clinging on until the ground thawed and life got a little easier.

The winters were hard, but they had never been this hard before.

Food had been going mysteriously missing from some of the public and private storerooms and Keith, the town pariah, had of course been the primary suspect. The entire village had given him an even wider berth than usual, and eventually someone had the idea to lock Keith up for a few days and see if that put an end to the thefts.

Of course, they hadn't had the intelligence to keep their plan quiet. Whoever was stealing the food had seen the opportunity to make Keith into their scapegoat and took a few days off.

They hadn't even given Keith a chance to defend himself—just immediately broke out the torches and pitchforks and ran him out of town. And they hadn't given him food or warm clothing while he'd been locked in the old dilapidated barn they'd chosen as a cell. He'd been cold and hungry before they even started chasing him.

Daibazaal was a valley town, settled there for the benefits for safety and agriculture. But it unfortunately meant that, if an angry mob decided to block the single road out of town, then only other directions to run all resulted in heading into the mountains. So that’s where Keith had gone. Into the steep cliffs, colder temperatures, biting winds, no real shelter to speak of as far as the eye could see.

Keith kept on walking, nowhere else to go. He'd watched in despair as Griffin led the rest of the town in torching his old cabin, so it wasn't as if Keith could hide out in the snow for a bit and then crawl back once it was safe.

He could only hope that whoever really had been stealing food would continue, and it would lead to all the other villagers to go hungry like he had.

Keith had started the journey at dusk and kept walking, one foot stubbornly in front of the other, out of sheer spite alone. No direction in mind, he just knew he had to keep moving.

But he was so cold. So tired. Dawn was just beginning to creep over the horizon, and Keith didn't have a plan.

He didn't have anything.

Eventually his legs collapsed beneath him, and he sank into the snow. He could try to push himself onward, but there really wasn't a point. Either way, he'd die out here. Maybe if he just slumped forward, the snow would pile up on top of him and just erase him from existence. It would be a better burial than anything he would have gotten at the village.

He laid there long enough for his body to go numb and his vision to turn grey.

And then he slept.

Keith woke up.

He was groggy and sore, every single part of him achy and exhausted. He could hear the fire crackling away, which meant it hadn’t burned down to embers yet, and resolved to just fall back asleep. The wind outside sounded terrible, making its way through the cracks in the walls, but when Keith groped around for his blanket to tuck it over his head, his fingers scratched against rock. Had he fallen asleep on the floor next to the hearth again?

When he opened his eyes, intending to drag himself back to his pathetic, uncomfortable mattress, he was met by an entirely unfamiliar scene. It looked like he was inside some kind of cave, but when tried to cast back to whatever he was doing before he fell asleep, he came up with a concerning blank.

Eventually things trickled together and he remembered getting chased out of the village, stumbling through snow up to his knees, but that memory didn’t connect to where he was now.

There was an expertly built fire, dug down into the rock and crackling contentedly. A pile of extra wood off to the side stood ready for whenever the fire burned through its current fuel. And next to the wood was a rabbit, freshly killed and just waiting to be butchered and cooked.

Unless he had managed to drag himself into a cave, build a fire, and catch a rabbit all while freezing to death and then promptly lost all memory of the experience, someone had found him and brought him here, and they had definitely saved his life.

“Hello?” he called out, his voice weak and raspy, barely rising above the howling wind. “Is anyone there?”

There was no answer.

It felt very ungrateful to start cooking food without waiting for his savior to reappear, so he forced himself to hold off, even as his stomach reminded him of just how long he’d gone without a meal. But as the weak light outside moved across the sky from midday to dusk, no one came.

It occurred to Keith that whoever saved him might be stuck outside and needing help themselves, but if that was the case, there was very little Keith could do. Even if he were feeling strong enough to go out hiking through several feet of snow, his clothing would provide no safety from the cold, and Keith was unfamiliar with this territory. He’d most likely just get himself killed and undo all his rescuer’s hard work.

He was entirely conflicted, but finally started working on the rabbit. No sense letting a good meal go to waste. His knife was still luckily strapped to his thigh, so he set about skinning and butchering it, trying not to think about how the blood might attract unwanted attention from the local wolves or any other predators that could be lurking nearby. He’d just have to hope that they’re scared off by the fire.

The very short trip he made outside of the cave to find some sticks for a makeshift grill froze him down to his bones. He was about to hurry back with the small bundle he'd gathered when the hair on the back of his neck pricked up.

Someone was watching him.

He whirled around and swore he saw a blur of movement, but the sun had already sunk down, making everything harder to see, and when he looked closer, there didn't seem to be anything, man or beast, in the snow and brush.

The wind eventually chased him back into shelter and he sat in front of the fire for a long while to thaw himself out again. Once his hands stopped shaking, he assembled his pathetic little grill and set several pieces of rabbit on top and out of direct contact with the flames. It would take longer to cook this way, but it would be worth it to make sure that his first meal in several days wasn't burnt down to charcoal.

The meat smelled divine as it started to cook, and though he fretted again about attracting some unwanted attention, the scent alone was worth it. He took the smaller pieces off the grill as soon as he was sure they were safe to eat, fairly inhaling them while he waited for the larger ones. Gnawing on the fore legs took the sharpest edge off the hunger, and allowed him to settle back and actually savor the saddle and the loin once they had finished cooking. In the end, he had mostly demolished the rabbit, feeling a bit of residual guilt for it. If his rescuer came back to find that Keith hadn’t left them any food, he couldn’t imagine they would be pleased about it.

But he couldn’t focus on the feelings for long. A good meal and a warm fire had Keith helpless against the pull of sleep. He didn’t know what his situation would be like later, but some more rest was probably the best course of action regardless. He put a couple more logs onto the fire, just to make sure it wouldn’t burn down while he was asleep, rested his head against his arm, and was out in a matter of moments.

The light of day woke him up, and Keith was pleased to see that the sun was managing to make its way through some of the clouds. It didn’t mean the temperature would be any warmer, but it did at least make him feel a little lighter.

When he turned to look toward the fire, he was surprised to see that things had changed. The remains of the rabbit had been cleared away, and a quail, feathers already plucked, was in its place. Next to the fire were several more logs, and a jug Keith suspected contained water.

His savior was clearly alive and well, but there was still no sign of them. At least they didn't seem to be offended that Keith hadn't left them any food yesterday.

Keith pushed himself up, muscles protesting after a long night spent on a rocky floor, and then jumped when something brushed up against his arms.

When he looked down, it was to see two plush furs slipping from his shoulders into his lap. They were luxuriously soft, and he allowed himself to run his fingers through them while contemplating how deeply asleep he must have been for someone to approach him and cover him with blankets.

He had been fine with the fire—plenty warm to at least survive the night. But furs spoke of someone concerned about his comfort and not just his continued existence. No one had cared if Keith was comfortable in years.

He'd thought earlier that his rescuer might have been someone from the village, feeling sorry for him but not sorry enough to show their face. But no one from the village would have given Keith a single fur, much less two good quality ones. And besides, he must have been a few miles away at this point; the journey out here alone was more than any of his former neighbors would be willing to make.

A benevolent spirit? It would be the first time in a long while that anyone, human or otherwise, had been benevolent toward Keith, but was starting to look like a possible answer to this conundrum. Or maybe the fae, looking to put a human in their debt? Though they were supposedly very upfront with the terms of their deals.

Keith kept wondering as he prepared and ate breakfast, not coming up with a satisfactory answer. Keith had nothing to offer. There was no reason for some magical being to want to help and protect him. But he couldn't imagine another human living out here in the wilderness, especially considering Keith hadn't seen any evidence of them. Why not bring Keith into their house instead of needing to traipse through the snow to reach him?

In any case, he couldn't just stay here and use up their kindness without showing some gratitude. He was still exhausted, his body trying to recover from the trek through the snow and the general leanness of winter, so there was a high likelihood he would be sleeping when whoever or whatever it was came back to bring him more supplies. But he recognized some chalk deposits further back in the cave, so he could at least write them a note on the wall and hope they could read.

Thank you for saving me, and for the food and the furs. My name is Keith. What should I call you?

That seemed respectful enough for a human neighbor or a potential mountain spirit. If he was being helped by a fae, then he had just given them his name, but all things considered, Keith owed them anyways. The fae couldn’t be all that much worse than the village of humans left.

That single task done, Keith laid out one of the furs into a makeshift bed, draped the other over his shoulder, and drifted off, feeling cared for for the first time in years.

Keith bypassed the bundle of new supplies the next time he woke in favor of the message that had replaced his on the cave wall.

Hello, Keith. My name is Shiro. I'm glad that you're doing well. I was worried, finding you in the snow like that. Please let me know if you need anything that I haven't provided.

Keith nearly scoffed at the last line, as if this mysterious Shiro hadn’t already given him shelter, warmth, and food. What more could he need?

The lettering was odd, the more he looked at it. The lines were shaky and uneven, but the grammar and spelling were perfect, so Shiro was unlikely to be young or illiterate. Perhaps they were just out of practice with written communication.

The train of thought faltered when Keith examined what Shiro had left him this time. There were two more furs and another rabbit and now a cooking pot, but he was entranced by what accompanied them. Somehow, Shiro had magicked up some vegetables. In the middle of winter.

Keith’s plot of land was never conducive to a garden—too much shade and dry, hard-packed earth, and no one in the village had been keen to share. He’d made do with whatever he could forage, which was never a lot. To see the pile of them here, some parsnips, carrots, and beets, only confirmed Keith's suspicions about Shiro's inhuman nature. Shiro must have been some kind of magical creature, a spirit or maybe even a god, and for some reason had chosen to bestow his gifts upon Keith. It was the first good thing that had happened in his life for years, and he wasn't about to waste it.

He quickly chopped up some of the carrots and tougher parts of the rabbit, tossing them into the pot with some melting snow and letting the stew start cooking before turning to his other task. Chalk wasn't his medium of choice, but it was the best option he had and he set about doing his best to render the landscape in black and white against the cave wall. Artistic talent had never been encouraged in the village, but it wasn't as if Keith had anything else to offer.

He was just going to have to hope it was enough.

Keith almost missed the message the next morning. It was so small and out of the way that Keith panicked at first, automatically assuming the worst. It wasn’t until he had started cooking breakfast that he noticed the tiny, smushed writing in the corner.

Keith, this is beautiful! I don't want to ruin it with my own writing.

Keith raised a brow at the drawing. With fresh eyes, he could see all the imperfections and mistakes, but here was Shiro, magical being of unknown origin, declaring it “beautiful.”

Huh.

I can always draw something new on top of it. Any requests?

He signed the note with a small drawing of his old cabin, feeling a pang of homesickness. It had been barely more than a shack, but it was his little hideaway from the rest of the village, and now it was gone. It wasn't as if he could go back to the village regardless, but still.

Maybe someday he could find something that truly felt like home.

Shiro's next message grudgingly gave him permission to erase the current drawing if Keith replaced it with a scene from a bustling market. Daibazaal had never exactly been "bustling," but Keith could certainly imagine what that must look like, everyone getting their shopping done in a large town nearer to the capital city.

His accompanying message mentioned that he liked pen and ink better than chalk, and lo and behold, a stack of good quality paper and several pens and bottles of ink appeared when Shiro dropped off supplies the next morning.

Keith could hardly believe that this was the payment Shiro wanted for providing him with everything he could possibly need. Well, to be fair, Shiro had never requested a payment, but Keith wasn't so foolish to believe that shelter and food were free. Still, it wasn't a hardship whatsoever to draw any of Shiro's requests, most of which were landscapes: a big lake, the sky at night, fields at harvest time. There was some variety, though. At one point Shiro asked him to draw his "ideal dog."

Keith also decided to try his hand at whittling. He certainly had the time, and while his knife wasn't the best tool (bandages and a few other smaller knives appeared for the next few mornings after Keith accidentally nicked his hand on his first attempt) he found he was decent at it. And Shiro loved the little figurines, regardless of the fact that Keith's first attempts looked more like poorly formed pinecones than identifiable creatures.

He fell into a pattern, the days turning into weeks, the season becoming the most pleasant winter he had experienced in recent memory. He found himself looking forward to each morning, since that was when he got to read the new messages from Shiro. They had gotten into a rhythm of sharing stories about their lives and their pasts. Keith had learned that Shiro had lived in the mountains for about five years, that he was mostly alone and seemed to be as lonely and eager for conversation as Keith was. He was primarily self-sufficient, though he did scavenge more niche items from abandoned carts from merchants who had tried to take a shortcut through the mountains.

Keith, in turn, had shared some stories about his village and about his father, though he had left out the reasons he left Daibazaal in the first place, skirting around it any time Shiro asked. Mostly he just didn't want to talk about it, but there was always a chance that Shiro would believe the villagers' allegations and cut him loose.

Even with that hanging over his head, Keith was…having fun. He'd never had something like this, someone he wanted to learn more about and who seemed to want to get to know Keith in return.

The irony of his situation wasn't lost on him. Only Keith could get chased out of the village, run up a mountain, live in a cave, and have his health and life improve. Beside the humble stone walls and floor of the cave, Keith was living like a lord. The large pile of furs he was slowly accumulating alleviated the worst of the hard floor and cold, and Shiro had also dropped off a few bolts of cloth and sewing supplies when Keith’s clothes began to fray. Food and fuel were hand-delivered each morning, and all Keith had to do was prepare his meals. The rest of his time was spent resting, lounging, taking part in the frivolous artistic endeavors he had always felt guilty for indulging in before now. He had no responsibilities and no one to answer to, except for Shiro, who was thrilled with Keith's gifts of drawings and little wooden sculptures.

It was complete and utter decadence unlike anything he had ever experienced before, and a far cry from the life he’d been living in the village, just barely scraping by.

The only thing he was lacking was the chance to speak to Shiro face-to-face. Shiro dropped off supplies every night, since Keith woke to food and wood for the fire and notes in the morning, but Keith had never actually seen him. He wanted to stay awake to meet his savior face-to-face, but every night he dropped off deep. After the past months and, truly, years, of using everything he had to make it to the next day, his body wanted nothing more than to sleep for as much as humanly possible.

And Shiro hadn't been willing to stay around to wait for Keith to wake. It would have set off a little alarm bell if Shiro hadn't already taken such good care of him. He was safe, and sure that Shiro had no ill intentions. But Shiro claimed that it would "scare" Keith to see him, and nothing Keith said in return seemed to dissuade him.

Well. Keith was just going to have to take matters into his own hands.

Eventually, he had rested enough to be able to stay awake all night, feigning sleep and waiting for Shiro to appear. Every single noise outside made him tense up in anticipation, but it wasn't until dawn was just starting to creep over the horizon that he heard something shuffling further into the cave.

Shiro.

But when Keith opened his eyes, it was neither a human nor a spirit at the mouth of the cave.

It was a monster.

Chapter Text

Keith wasn't proud of the scream that came out of his mouth, but it at least had the benefit of startling the monster. It reared up in surprise and then bolted, disappearing into the snow outside.

As Keith waited for his heart to stop trying to force its way out of his chest, he thought about how lucky he had been. The one night something came to try to harm him, Keith had been awake and ready, waiting for a completely different visitor. And while he certainly hadn't been expecting this monster—humanoid but scarily large, sharp teeth, long claws, white fur to effortlessly blend in with the surroundings—it at least meant that he was now wide awake.

He hoped the monster hadn't hurt Shiro, though he still wasn't sure whether Shiro could even be harmed by physical teeth and claws. It would be a story to tell him, whenever he did arrive.

It was only when he saw the wood and the small deer lying haphazardly near the mouth of the cave, like they'd been dropped there, that things started falling into place.

Oh.

Oh, no.

Shiro had even said Keith would be scared to see him. And he had just proven Shiro correct.

Shit.

He didn't even think before he grabbed one of the furs to wrap around his shoulders and ran out into the blizzard.

It might not have been the smartest plan. Keith had no idea where he was going, or even where to start looking. Shiro's white fur would blend into the snow around them, the wind was whipping the falling snow into his face, and the weak dawn light was barely noticeable.

But he couldn't let Shiro leave without knowing that Keith had figured out what was happening and felt absolutely awful about it.

So he struck out aimlessly in a random direction, calling Shiro's name and hoping he could make himself heard over the wind. Not the brightest plan, but no one had ever accused Keith of thinking things through before moving forward.

His search didn't last long. In the poor light, Keith couldn't see the difference in the snow and the terrain before it was too late and he suddenly plunged down into a snowbank. The cold was a shock, but his heart sank even further as he realized he was buried up to his chest, unable to get enough leverage to pull himself out.

Fuck.

His calls to Shiro took on a more panicked tone. Keith wasn't designed for the cold, and there was only so much that a single fur could do to him when he was surrounded by snow. If Shiro was still in the area, hopefully he would hear Keith and wouldn’t just ignore him, considering how Keith had greeted him earlier.

It was only a few minutes later that a distressingly large shape loomed over him in the snow. Keith felt a twinge of fear trail down his spine, but the eyes that met his were intelligent and concerned.

"Hi Shiro," Keith tried.

Shiro made a huffing sound that Keith could tell was exasperated even over the howling wind, and that banished the lingering apprehension. It was such a human response that Keith couldn’t help laughing in response.

“Sorry. I got kind of stuck when I went out looking for you.”

Keith could nearly hear Shiro’s reaction at the look he received for that, and then without warning, Shiro reached out and yanked him out of the snowbank as if Keith weighed nothing. He barely even needed one arm to press Keith’s entire body to his chest.

Keith was going to think about how small and insignificant he felt later. For now he was focused on trying to burrow into thick fur and stop shivering quite so hard. It brought up a vague memory, more a feeling than anything else, of being wrapped in warm, fuzzy arms after he had passed out in the snow.

Shiro really had been looking out for him this whole time.

Keith hadn't gotten very far before he'd plunged into the snowbank, and Shiro's pace was much faster than Keith's had been, so it was only a few minutes before they'd reached the cave again. Shiro had been so hands-off before, Keith fully expected him to set him down in front of the fire and be done with him. But instead, Shiro sat down against the wall of the cave, keeping Keith tucked up close and apparently not eager to let go anytime soon. That was fine with Keith. He'd warm up a lot faster with Shiro here than he would just by himself.

"Sorry," Keith said eventually. "I didn't mean to freak out. You startled me. But I guess that's my fault too, huh? I just wanted to see you."

Shiro huffed, which Keith wasn't exactly sure how to interpret, but then tucked him closer, reaching for another one of the furs to drape over his shoulders, so Keith supposed he was forgiven. He was confused, when Shiro started prodding him, plucking at his arms and his hair. He could have just been curious, actually seeing an awake human up close, but it felt more intentional than that. The third time Shiro very delicately, very carefully traced a claw over the tiny scar on Keith's hand from his first whittling attempt was when things finally dropped into place. Shiro wasn't confused—he was checking Keith over for injuries.

"I'm okay," Keith promised, trying to get used to how far he needed to crane his neck to see Shiro's face. "You've been taking good care of me. You know," he said, hiding a smirk in Shiro's fur, "if you had just explained from the beginning that, 'oh hey, the snow monster lurking near the cave is me,' this would have been a lot easier."

A grumble, and Keith was pretty sure Shiro was intentionally not looking in his direction, but it felt much more like embarrassment than any real anger.

Keith let himself take the time to examine Shiro, as well. His fur was pure white, perfectly blending in with the snow outside, with the only dark points being his eyes and claws. There was a concerning scar across the face, though, on the bridge of his nose. It was clearly old and healed over, but Keith still wondered how it had gotten there, wondered who had tried to hurt a beast that was so clearly peaceful and gentle.

It was odd, how easy things were. But after all of their messages back and forth, and how well Shiro had been providing for him, it felt like he already knew Shiro, even if he hadn't realized just exactly what kind of being he'd been speaking to. They would need to figure out some way for Shiro to communicate back, but for now, everything just made sense. It wasn't a surprise when Keith felt himself starting to drift off. The makeshift bed of furs was nice, but it couldn't compare to resting up against Shiro's side. He was perfectly safe here. Nothing and no one would dare try to hurt him like this. And he was stupidly exhausted from staying up all night. Shiro wouldn't mind if Keith just took a little nap, would he? Just for an hour, maybe, and then he'd get up and have breakfast and maybe make Shiro some more art.

Keith woke laid out on the furs and he could have believed the entire early morning had been a weird dream, had it not been for the smell of breakfast cooking on the fire. He dragged himself upright to see Shiro with a look of intense concentration, tongue poking out of his lips, while he carefully turned something over the flames. Probably the deer Keith had seen before he ran out into the snow. Hopefully Shiro didn't expect Keith to eat that whole deer by himself.

The scene made him pause. Shiro was clearly built for living out here, thick fur and sharp claws, but he also knew how to stoke a fire and how to cook a meal. And here he was, quite at ease in a cave that had a fire pit and plenty of space for a large creature to move around. Had he...

"Shiro, did I kick you out of your house?" Keith blurted out, cringing when Shiro flailed a bit in surprise at the sudden question. When he had recovered, he snorted in Keith's direction and shook his head, making a series of gestures almost like he was describing a small box, and Keith decided meant that this cave was too small for him. Fair enough, but where was Shiro actually living? Did he need to travel far, to keep taking care of his unexpected guest?

Shiro seemed to be operating on the same wavelength, since he gently picked up one of the discarded pieces of chalk and began writing a message:

It's much larger, and a little far from here. I can show you after breakfast, if you want

"Yeah, I'd like that. You could... I mean..." How exactly did one go about asking a giant snow monster if you could move in with them? It just seemed silly, Shiro constantly making the trek to take care of Keith. And the little lonely part of Keith that craved contact with others was desperate for it, for the idea of spending more time with someone else, even if that someone else wasn't human.

I didn't want to pressure you was Shiro's continued message. But you are welcome to join me if that's what you want. Otherwise, I truly don't mind making the trip out here each day.

"I'd like to, if you're okay with... I mean, I don't want to invite myself, but I think it would be nice."

Shiro nodded, and then held the jug of water in Keith's direction with a pointed look. Keith was almost embarrassed with himself for being frightened at first, given everything. Shiro certainly could hurt him, sure, but Keith was positive he wouldn't. He was much more concerned with ensuring Keith stayed hydrated and rested. It was definitely not how Keith thought his day was going to go.

They shared breakfast in a companionable silence, Shiro having perfectly cooked the leg of venison for him and then helping himself to rest of the deer. It was just as well, since Keith couldn't hope to eat the whole thing by himself. And even if they couldn't really discuss much it was still nice. It had the same comforting familiarity that their written messages did, only without the need to wait.

Shiro bundled up the supplies when they were done eating, and Keith was kind of stunned to see all the things he had amassed over the past few weeks. Furs, art supplies, papers, preserved food, cooking tools... they all went into a makeshift sack that Keith could never hope to carry alone, but Shiro managed to look like it didn't weigh a thing. Keith doused the fire while Shiro gathered everything up, instantly missing the warmth until Shiro silently draped another fur over his shoulders. He made to grab for Keith, too, but then stopped short, making a pathetic little whine and looking for all the world like a dog that had just been called out for begging for scraps, and Keith had to stop himself from laughing.

"You're just a giant marshmallow, aren't you?" he said. "But seriously, it's fine. I don't mind, and I have no desire to walk all the way there in the snow. Go ahead."

Permission granted, Shiro picked him up gently, delicately, nothing like the lifting him out of the snow earlier that morning. Keith felt a tiny bit like a child sitting on his dad's shoulders, suddenly seeing the world from a much higher vantage point. The snow was beautiful, when it wasn't trying to kill him.

Shiro couldn't communicate like this without something to write on, forced into gestures and grunts, but Keith got the feeling that he was trying to give a tour of the area. Showing him which areas were good and safe, and which areas should be avoided by humans without a nice warm coat of fur. It was oddly relaxing. The snow and the cold had a way of dampening sound; even the wide stream they traveled along for several minutes was brought to a standstill with ice. There weren't too many animals out and about, either. Just Keith and Shiro on a quiet trip through the mountains.

Although his pace was probably slower than normal, Keith still felt guilty when he realized how far of a walk it was. By the sun, it must have been at least two hours before they finally arrived at a larger set of caves. Keith had tucked his face under one of his blankets to keep his nose from going numb, so it was a bit of a surprise to poke his head out and see a veritable mountain in front of them. The cave opening was large enough that Shiro had several feet worth of clearance and didn't need to stoop whatsoever. Once inside, Keith noticed the fire burning in what looked for all the world like a hewn stone hearth carved into the far cave wall, complete with chimney, and there were several glowing gems affixed to the walls, throwing out enough light to easily see. There were at least three more tunnels jutting off of this main opening that Keith could see. It was less "cave" and more "rustic palace." Why on earth had Shiro willingly been spending time away from here, just to take care of Keith?

Shiro let him down gently, with a little nudge that Keith took to mean he was free to wander around and explore. He didn't want to be nosy, but he would also be lying if he said he wasn't curious about Shiro's home. And Shiro didn't seem to be too concerned about Keith having free reign.

He took the path on the right first, which seemed to mostly be a storage room. It had the look of someone who kept trying to organize but getting bored or distracted halfway through, so some of the piles of things made sense together and others appeared to just be there because that's where they had all been dropped off. But this was clearly the stash of "things Shiro had liberated from abandoned merchant carts," so it made sense if the arrangement was a little haphazard.

When Keith returned to the first room, Shiro was already in the one on the left, a significantly smaller room, and laying out Keith's own collection of things against the wall, giving them a sort of final pat when he noticed Keith's presence.

"My spot, huh?" Keith asked, and Shiro nodded, though it was accompanied by a sort of wiggly hand gesture. "My spot...if I like it? Or unless I want to move somewhere else?" A more emphatic nod, and Keith just shook his head. Only a few minutes in and Shiro was already offering him the pick of the rooms.

The middle opening was more of a hallway, with several other rooms jutting off from it. One of them just seemed to be a collection of drying meats and furs, much more of both than Keith imagined Shiro actually needed. But when Keith looked up to question him, Shiro just shrugged in a very human fashion, and Keith let it go. Everyone had hobbies, right?

The furs, at least, made sense when he came to the room that probably functioned as Shiro's sleeping quarters and saw a truly massive pile of furs and some woven blankets laid out on the ground. He was incredibly tempted to take a running leap into the heap, but that seemed a little bit rude, all things considered, to just jump into someone's bed without discussing it first.

The third room was a surprise, with a mostly open roof letting in a significant amount of light. It must get wet in the rain and snow, but then he looked down at the ground to see not a stone floor but a thick layer of soil and greens. The garden, he realized, which explained how Shiro kept bringing him vegetables. The air still felt warm, despite the lack of a ceiling - Keith couldn't decide if it was actual magic or just residual heat from the fire in the first room. He wasn't sure whether snow monsters had their own inherent magic or whether Shiro just knew a guy. Maybe he had met some wizard out in the mountains and helped them out, too, and the wizard had repaid the favor with a warm garden and magically-lit gemstones?

When it came to what seemed to finally be the last chamber in the system, Keith was a bit confused to see just a pool of water. Interesting, sure, and another indicator that the area was warmer than expected since the water didn't have any visible ice, but still a bit odd. But as he stared at it, Keith noticed what looked like steam curling up off the surface, and his curiosity got the best of him. When he dipped his hand into the water, he couldn't help reeling back in shock.

“It’s hot!” he said, feeling foolish the moment the words were out of his mouth, especially when Shiro made a choking noise behind him that was probably a laugh. Clearly Shiro was aware of the water’s temperature.

But then Shiro nudged him toward the water and made a series of gestures that Keith eventually connected to bathing, and Keith understood. As grateful as he was for everything Shiro had done for him, the rocky cave floor hasn’t been kind to his back, and the idea of a hot bath, especially a hot bath in the middle of winter and up in the mountains, was too good to pass up.

"You don't mind?" he asked, even as he was easing his shirt over his head, and Shiro shook his head, putting an exaggerated hand over his eyes to show that he wouldn't use the opportunity to peep, and then leaving Keith alone with the hot water.

Keith spent probably way too long there than was polite, but Shiro didn't bother him at all except for dropping off a towel before making himself scarce again. If Keith had thought he was living well in his own little cave, this was sheer decadence. Hot water soothing away all his aches and cares, ready without needing to do any work.

When he finally emerged, his hands wrinkled from the water, it was only because he was starting to feel tired and didn't want to accidentally fall asleep in the hot spring. Once he was dry and fully clothed again, he wandered back through the rest of the caves, eventually finding Shiro tending to the garden.

Feeling emboldened by this whole experience, Keith shuffled up to him and then slumped against Shiro's side. "You live like a king," he said, voice muffled in thick fur. Shiro snorted in reply, a sound Keith couldn't decide was agreeing or disagreeing, (they were really going to need to figure out how to communicate in real-time, huh?) before he picked Keith up, carting him off to the room with the blankets and furs and then laying him down in the middle of the heap, patting Keith's head, and leaving him to enjoy his nap. There must have been dozen, if not hundreds, of layers of fabric between Keith and the cave floor. It felt like he was floating on clouds, and only felt the slightest amount of guilt for taking over Shiro's bed before he dozed off.

Shiro had been a perfect host when Keith had been in his own little cave. Now, with full access 24/7, Shiro was outdoing himself. Asking Keith what he wanted Shiro to hunt for meals, making sure he had the softest, warmest picks of the blanket piles, free reign of the hot spring. It would have felt stifling if Keith hadn't been craving some kind of contact for years before this. Granted, he had been thinking human contact, or maybe a pet dog, not, you know, whatever specific type of snow monster Shiro was. But still. It was nice to spend time with someone else.

Though Keith did put his foot down on being carried around like he was a lord in some kind of carriage. He didn't mind being carried through the snow, but across warm stone was a bit excessive.

It surprised him, how gentle Shiro was. As if he was constantly aware of their difference in size and strength, aware of his own sharp claws. Which was why it was so heartbreaking to see Shiro drag his claws angrily against the wall and hear him half-growling as he tried, in vain, to keep up a written conversation in response to Keith's verbal one.

"Hey, it's ok," Keith said. "I'm not in any hurry. Take your time."

Truthfully, he wasn't. Keith had nowhere to go and nothing to do, and a willing conversation partner was more than worth the slightly stilted communication style. But it was clearly eating away at Shiro's patience, and Shiro had already rejected Keith's idea that they both write to each other. Which was fair, considering how far Shiro needed to bend down to see Keith's writing, and how much chalk they had gone through.

Shiro huffed again, slumping down and knocked his head against the wall. That was a gesture that was certainly easy enough to interpret.

Although...

"Sign language?" Keith asked. Shiro seemed dexterous enough with his hands and arms, and it would be much faster than writing.

Shiro reached down for the chalk he'd dropped earlier: I don't know any.

"Well, neither do I but, that's not really important, is it? It's just us. We could make it up."

Which was how Keith found himself spending days alternately drawing ink landscapes and creating a new sign language that could be executed with sharp claws and interpreted by a human on the ground, several feet below. It was probably an affront to real sign language—their grammar rules were nonexistent and a few words involved an accompanying grunt or hiss to differentiate them from others—but it was worth it to be able to have fluid conversations. If every now and then Shiro forgot the sign he wanted to use, or Keith misinterpreted one, it was easy enough to rectify. And it felt nice, having their own little way to communicate. Not that there was anyone else to really guard their secret against, but still.

It was like he and Shiro were living in their own little world, out here, and nothing could interfere.

“It’s getting warmer,” Shiro signed after dinner, weeks, if not months, after they had codified their language.

“I’ll have to take your word for it.” Keith’s outings beyond the cavern walls had been limited to the times he wrapped himself in about 40 blankets just to get a little fresh air, and the times when he was wrapped up in the cocoon of Shiro’s arms. it did stand to reason that eventually, Spring would make its way to the mountain, but even then, it probably wouldn't be the sort of Spring Keith was used to. Shiro had explained that the snow and nice never really melted out here, even when it got to be fully Summer down in the valley.

"We should get you back to your village, soon." He signed it slowly, haltingly, but Keith was too distracted by the suggestion to wonder.

He should have known this wasn't going to last.

"Oh," Keith said lamely. "We don't need to do it right now, though, do we?"

"You need people," was Shiro's response.

“You’re people,” Keith said stubbornly, shoving his face into Shiro’s side like a child so he didn’t need to see him sign. Shiro dislodged him embarrassingly easily.

"Family? Friends?"

Keith scoffed in a way he hoped didn't sound too bitter. Even when they had been designing the language, Keith hadn't seen a point to those words. "You're my first friend." He didn't add that he pretty much considered Shiro his only family, too. He felt pathetic enough as it was.

And then, finally: "Why did you leave your village?"

So Keith explained. How hard things were after his dad died, how he was isolated and alienated, how they had so quickly pinned the thievery on him and made it clear in no uncertain terms that he was not allowed back.

“I’ll leave, if that’s what you…" Keith said as he came to the end of his woeful story. "I’ll find some place to go, but I-” He was cut off as Shiro swept him off the ground and into his arms, nearly crushing him in a hug. He couldn't sign like this, but he made a sort of deep rumbling sound in his chest that Keith managed to associate with a purr and not a growl, and Keith relaxed. "I really want to stay here. If that's okay."

Shiro pulled him away from the hug just long enough for Keith to see the very clear, deliberate sign for 'yes' before tucking him back in, letting him stay there, wrapped up safe and secure, for the rest of the night.

Chapter Text

They mostly didn't discuss it, after that. Keith caught Shiro giving him the occasional sad, pitying looks when he thought Keith wouldn't notice, but he hadn't suggested Keith leave or find somewhere to go again for several weeks. By that time, the weather had turned from "deathly cold" to "still cold but at least manageable," which meant Keith could at least wander around outside with one of the furs draped over his shoulders like a cape and not worry about freezing to death in minutes. There still weren't a lot of options to forage, but the rivers at least thawed out enough to fish.

There were some days that Keith did miss the comforts of a village. Somewhere that summer would actually make itself known, with cheese and bread and butter. Unless Shiro somehow managed to wrangle a cow and a few chickens, that wasn't particularly likely to happen. The trade-off was definitely worth it, but Keith did find himself hoping some merchants would try to make their way through the mountain pass. Maybe he could barter with them.

When Keith returned one afternoon with his catch, a couple of decent-sized trout, Shiro immediately pounced on him and started signing so quickly that Keith couldn't hope to follow it. When he'd finally at least taken the time to clean the fish and start smoking them (the smoker had been Keith's one real addition to the caves, and Shiro was immensely intrigued by the entire contraption), Shiro finally calmed down enough to actually be understood

"Would you want to go to a nice village?"

"Depends on how they feel about snow monster roommates," Keith responded, fiddling needlessly with the smoker for want of something to do. It felt a little bit like Shiro was trying to kick him out again.

"Keith," Shiro signed, managing to make the character look exasperated. "Just an option. You can stay, if that's what you want. But... people."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. People. If you could actually find me a nice village, I'd consider it."

"I know about one, my old village."

The sentence didn't make sense. Keith must have misinterpreted one of the signs, though it had been a long time since he had done that.

"Could you repeat that?"

"My village," Shiro signed again. "I just realized it today."

“Your village?” Keith asked. What did that even mean? Was there some village out there that worshipped Shiro as if he were their patron saint?

"Yes. My village from when I was a human."

Keith's thoughts ground to a halt as he stared up at Shiro, no sound at all except for the slight hissing from the smoker.

"You what?" Keith finally managed.

"It's a very nice village," Shiro continued, as if that were the important part of the conversation.

"No, no. Hold on. You were a person?"

The look Shiro gave him would have felt insulting in any other situation.

"I just… I don’t know, I assumed all snow monsters were this intelligent, or maybe you had some kind of weird interest, or… I don’t know, you never sat me down to explain that ‘hey wow I used to be a person, isn't that interesting!’"  Shiro just continued to look at him, and Keith started to feel a little guilty that they had apparently never had what seemed like a fairly important conversation about Shiro's past. "What happened?"

Shiro's hands remained stationary for long enough that Keith realized it was probably an insensitive question.

"You don't need to tell me," he said eventually. "That's your choice. You could tell me about the village instead, or I can just pretend we never had this conversation and go back to figuring out how to grow hot peppers."

"There was a witch," Shiro signed. The movements were jerkier than normal, and Shiro was staring somewhere above Keith's shoulder at the wall of the cave. "Before then, an accident. I lost my right arm. I couldn't do basic tasks anymore and I felt like a burden, so I went to see the witch. But everything has a price."

"She...transformed you?" Keith guessed.

"I don't know why. I went back to the village, but..."

"But they couldn't understand you," Keith realized. The scar on his face, the one Keith had wondered about when he'd seen Shiro for the first time, looked like it had been made by a sharp blade, a tool used by a human hunter or warrior.

"I left. You're the first person I've interacted with since then."

And Shiro had told him he'd been in the area for years. Years of just, existing. Of having people you actually cared about but couldn't return to.

"Is that why you've got all the stuff around here? The garden and all those furs and everything?"

"Trying to make sure I remember," he confirmed. "I'm afraid I'll start to forget that I wasn't always like this."

"Shiro..."

How did someone respond to that? 'I'm sorry a witch transformed you and made your life hell, but on the other hand I'm glad it happened since I would have frozen to death out here by myself?'

"But the village is nice," he continued. Whether he was trying to reassure Keith or just change the conversation topic, Keith wasn't sure. But it wasn't all that convincing.

"They attacked you," Keith countered. "I can't imagine you rampaged through the village or hurt anyone. Doesn't sound all that nice to me."

"They didn't know."

"Still. Aren't you always telling me that patience yields focus? They should have waited and tried to figure it out instead of just bringing out the torches and the pitchforks. Besides, I'm definitely not going anywhere, now that I know. I'm not leaving you behind."

"You weren't made to live out in the ice."

"Neither were you, technically. But I'm not going, so don't ask me again. If I ever decide to leave, I'm taking you with me."

Shiro was stubborn about taking care of Keith, which did make a little bit more sense now, but Keith could out-stubborn him if he needed. And there was absolutely no way Keith was letting himself get shipped off to this unknown village with supposedly nice locals while Shiro sat all alone in these caves.

Shiro grumbled at him and left the room, and was a bit short with him for the rest of the day. But when night fell, Keith found himself being gently tugged off of his pile of blankets and into Shiro's arms, while Shiro wept around him.

Keith blamed all the revelations and the heightened emotions for the fact that it took him nearly a week to realize the solution to all of this.

He must have sounded and looked like a mess, running back home after the idea occurred to him during a stroll around the mountain. Shiro was immediately on alert, growling viciously at whatever imagined danger had befallen Keith, and Keith had to stop and catch his breath for long enough to explain.

"I can speak!" he shouted.

The importance was lost on Shiro, who very gently attempted to feel Keith's forehead for a fever.

"No, no, stop it, hold on. Your village! I can explain what happened, you can see them again! Maybe we can find that witch who did this to you and force her to undo it!"

He felt a little vindicated seeing that Shiro hadn't figured out that that was an option, either.

"You can take me over there, and I can explain. Even if we can't figure out how to change you back, we could teach them our sign language. You get to take me to a village and I get to make sure you're not alone. Win-win."

"It would be a change," Shiro signed slowly.

"Yeah, but a good one, I think. You saved my life out here, the least I can do is help you get back home."

It didn't take long to convince Shiro after that, though he did flail around like a mother hen making sure they had enough supplies for the trip. Shiro's former village, Arus, was down the other side of the mountain, which explained why Keith had never heard of it or encountered any of its inhabitants before. It would take them a few days to walk there, even with Shiro carrying Keith, so of course Shiro was lowkey panicking about whether Keith would be warm enough and whether there would be shelter to stop at along the way and places to make a fire, and nothing Keith said would convince him that they had plenty of blankets and furs, and the smoked meats would travel well, and he trusted Shiro to take care of him regardless.

When they stopped for the first night, a somewhat pitiful fire burning away but Keith cozy in the giant amount of blankets Shiro had insisted on, Shiro told him all about the tightknit group of friends he'd left behind. Matt and Pidge, the children of an eccentric inventor who he strongly suspected of being part technomancer; Hunk, who was the best chef and baker in the entire kingdom; Lance, the archer who could hit any target and loved to brag about it. Shiro had been raised by his grandfather, but he had died a few years before the transformation, so it sounded like these people were Shiro's family.

Keith was suddenly struck by the need to do right by these people he had never met. He didn't know exactly what he and Shiro were to each other--it was a lot easier to ignore that question when it was just Shiro and Keith, alone in the mountains. But these people were clearly important, and Keith didn't want to mess this up like he always seemed to mess up other human interactions.

It occurred to him, too, that when Shiro was reunited with his old friends, his need for Keith's companionship might disappear. it wasn't a particularly nice thought, but it was certainly plausible. Keith was the first human Shiro had seen for years, and their friendship might have just been borne out of circumstance.

Even if it happened, Arus was supposedly welcoming of all newcomers, so Keith thought it wouldn't be so bad if he and Shiro drifted apart. He'd been living a lonely life for years now. Even if Shiro dropped him the minute he returned, Arus offered more community.

At least, that's what he told himself.

At any rate, he was just going to ignore the issue until it smacked him in the face. That was how he normally dealt with his problems. If he just didn't think about it, it wouldn't hurt as much. Right?

Keith wasn't exactly sure where Arus was located, but he could guess based on how Shiro kept getting more and more jittery as they walked on. Or rather, Shiro walked on, and Keith remained variously settled on his shoulders and looking out at the landscape around them or tucked against Shiro's chest when he decided the outside world was too dangerous for Keith.

Keith wished that he could say he was helping Shiro feel less concerned, but Keith wasn't doing much better. If Shiro's village didn't want to listen to him, or if they didn't believe him, they'd be back to square one, and he wasn't sure Shiro could handle that. On the other hand, what if they welcomed Shiro back with open arms but refused to let Keith join him? Sure, Keith could try to make his way back to the mountain cave, but then what? He'd be stuck for most of the year inside, using up the smoked meats and making his way through the vegetable garden.

When they got close enough that Keith started seeing signs of human life - tracks from carts in the dirt and gravel, some patches of earth that had been already tilled for the planting season, snippets of the sound of a market, both of them were incredibly on edge.

Which wasn't actually a bad thing, because it meant that when an arrow went sailing through the air in their direction, Shiro's reaction was incredibly quick. Unfortunately, Shiro didn't take too kindly to the assault, yanking Keith into a more protective spot and growling as if he actually were some kind of monster of legend. That probably wasn't helping their case too much.

Keith tried to wiggle free and explain, but Shiro wasn't having it, and Keith couldn't make himself heard over the din of Shiro snarling and more soldiers making their way to see what all the commotion was.

And apparently no one was noticing that the "beast" was much more concerned about protecting something in its arms than actually fighting them.

It was too much.

"We need to turn back," Keith yelled, hoping Shiro would hear him, and that he would listen. They weren't getting anywhere like this. And Shiro must have agreed with him, because eventually he did turn away from the village and back the way they had come. Once they were safely out of range, Keith tried to rub a comforting hand through the fur on Shiro's shoulder.

"We'll try again," he promised. "Maybe if I go by myself, they won't attack on sight."

Shiro growled low in his throat and tightened his arms around Keith. Yeah, Keith wasn't so sure, either. Maybe something about the village had changed in the years Shiro had been gone.

They hadn't walked far from the village outskirts when Shiro froze, standing perfectly still, waiting for something. When nothing happened for a good minute, Keith was about to ask what was wrong, and then he heard it. The crunch of a branch behind them.

Someone was following them.

Shiro immediately turned with a threatening growl, and Keith spotted three or four people lurking in the forest amongst the trees. Once they realized they had been made, they crept out of the hiding places, apparently no longer trying for stealth.

"Oh gods, it has a hostage!" one of them wailed.

Really not trying for stealth.

There were at least fewer of them, though, and not as much shouting, Staying with Shiro for so long, Keith had kind of forgotten how loud humans could get.

"Stop!" Keith called out, putting his hands up in what he hoped was a placating manner, though the snow beast still snarling behind him probably wasn't helping. "Neither of us mean you any harm. We just want to talk."

"He's been mind-swished," the archer whispered, though he was still speaking loudly enough for Keith to hear. What did that even mean...?

"We'll help you out, buddy!" said one of the others. Spellcaster of some sort, going by how he aimed a jet of light over Keith's head, just barely missing Shiro's neck.

"I don't need help!" Keith shouted back, Shiro punctuating the thought with an affronted huff. "Stop attacking us!"

"Us?" the short one said in disbelief.

One of them that seemed like the leader stepped forward, still brandishing his poleaxe but at least not throwing it in their direction, so Keith was going to take that as a good sign.

"Explain what exactly is going on, then. Why did you come to Arus, and what do you want?"

Shiro was clearly afraid to put him down for fear of an additional attack, so his signing was a little clumsier than normal, but Keith could make out the fingerspelling.

"Matt, right?" he asked, looking down awkwardly from his perch.

Matt narrowed his eyes, but convinced the others to at least lower, if not drop, their weapons.

"Who's asking?"

"My name is Keith and I uh..." He could feel Shiro nearly facepalm behind him. They had never discussed exactly what to do if they got this far. "I have a message from Shiro."

There was complete silence for nearly a minute, long enough for Keith and Shiro to have a quick signed conversation about whether they should just back away, until finally the tall archer broke the tension.

"Seriously? The guy's been gone for years, and you expect us to believe that the people he trusts to carry out his message are a giant snow beast and a walking fashion disaster?"

"Um," Keith said, not quite sure what to do with that. What did his clothing have to do with anything?

"Lance," Matt sighed, shooting him a look before turning his attention back to Shiro and Keith. "Prove it. He's right, Shiro has been gone for a long time. How can we be sure you're not lying?"

Shiro tensed up behind him, but Keith was pretty confident in his answer.

"I can tell you that he lost his right arm in a hunting accident and that he felt guilty about not being able to do a lot of the manual labor he had before. I know that he loves puns and stupid wordplay, that his birthday is on Leap Day, that he hates carrots but he still knows how to grow them for some reason, and that he's incredibly protective of everyone around him."

"That does sound like Shiro," the smaller version of Matt said. Keith had unfortunately already forgotten her name.

"That's all stuff we know already, though," said the sorcerer, still partially behind a tree.

"Hunk is right," Matt said. "Give us something new. If Shiro is alive, what happened to him? Why are you coming to us now, years later?"

Keith opened his mouth to answer, but then hesitated. It was one thing to talk about this with Shiro, but it was another to actually try to explain to Shiro's friends that he had been cursed.

As Keith tried to figure out exactly what to say, he saw Matt tilt his head to the side and narrow his eyes in thought. He was looking at somewhere above Keith's face, and then he suddenly turned and told the other three to back off and give them some space.

"Uh, not happening," Matt's sister protested. "That's a giant monster and you're, well. You're not."

"I'll be fine," Matt promised, now thoughtfully looking over Shiro and Keith. "You can stay in view, just. I'd rather have a private conversation, if what I think is happening is actually happening."

"Fine, but we're still going to be in arrow-shooting and spell-casting range," Lance said as the three of them very slowly backed off.

"And no magical listening spells, either!" Matt shouted at them, earning three put-upon groans, before turning his attention back to Shiro and Keith. "I have an idea of what's going on, I think. I don't particularly like it, especially if I'm right, but give it to me straight. What happened?"

Keith looked up to Shiro for approval, and then began to explain. Matt stared at them both, silently, but he didn't look like he thought Keith had gone crazy or like he was going to try to stab Shiro. When Keith had finished, Matt, continued to look, giving both of them a once-over, and maybe looking like he believed Keith.

"So that's Shiro," he said eventually, and Keith nodded. "You have some way to communicate, right?"

"Yeah. We developed a sign language. Kind of clumsy, but it gets the job done."

"Ask him the witch's name, and if you get that part right, I'll believe you."

Shiro fingerspelled it for him, clearly frustrated even just thinking about the witch, with the way his hands were tense, but Keith understood the word.

"Haggar."

"Fuck," Matt answered. "Why would you... you knew how shady she was, what the fuck were you thinking? And then you came back here making all kinds of racket, and we thought... I hurt you. I stabbed you in the face, Shiro!"

Shiro made a complicated kind of shrugging motion in response, made difficult since he was still holding Keith.

"I think he's forgiven you for that part," Keith translated.

"Yeah, he's stupidly noble like that. You can put him down, Shiro. I believe you. I'll vouch for you at the village and I won't let either of you come to harm."

Shiro still hesitated, glaring in the direction of Arus, but Keith was eventually eased onto the ground. Keith held out his hand to shake, but Matt yanked him into an abrupt hug, instead. There was a startled grunt from Shiro at the movement, but once he decided that Matt wasn't actually going to grab Keith and run, he backed off. Which Keith was glad for, considering the other three were definitely still staring at them in suspicion.

"What's your plan, then?" Matt asked as he let go of Keith and waved the other three back over. "I'll help you out, if you want to go confront Haggar, and I'm sure Pidge, Lance, and Hunk will, as well. But we can't just go in without thinking things through. I can't imagine she'd take kindly to us showing up on her doorstep flinging arrows and fireballs."

"That's up to Shiro," Keith said, looking up at him. Keith wanted nothing more than for Shiro to get his human life back, but maybe being a giant snow monster had grown on him. And once the others learned their sign language, communication would no longer be an issue. 

"Go home. Kick Haggar's ass," Shiro signed, and Keith laughed under his breath.

The trip back to the village was incredibly awkward. Pidge spent the entire time staring at Shiro, running laps around him like she was some kind of overly analytical herding dog, while Lance grilled Keith with questions that were supposedly designed to prove that he was 'pure of heart," whatever that meant. Hunk tried to keep the peace, but he was mostly ineffective. Keith managed to shoot Shiro an unimpressed expression and a quick sign.

"You wanted to come home to this?"

But Shiro just grinned at him, mouth full of sharp teeth, and both Pidge and Lance shrieked and jumped back several feet.

It was incredibly satisfying, Keith had to admit, and it gave Shiro an opening to curl a hand around Keith's shoulders and keep him close for the rest of the walk.

It was Matt who did most of the talking once they got to the village, looking to Keith and Shiro for an occasional confirmation or clarification. Keith was on edge, given their earlier welcome, but luckily Matt's father, the professor Shiro had mentioned, believed them, and held quite a bit of sway over the rest of the villagers. Some of them still looked unconvinced, but at least no one tried to run them out of town again.

By the time everything had settled, night was already falling. Lance graciously offered the use of his family's barn (after pointedly moving the cows into another building) as a place to sleep. It was a nice gesture, all things considered, especially as it started to rain. Keith had no desires to sleep under the stars tonight.

But as he moved to follow Shiro toward the structure, someone's hand gripped his wrist, pulling him back.

"Keith, wait!" Matt said. "You don't need to sleep out in the barn. We've got a spare bed you can take for the night. I wish we could offer one to Shiro, too, but they don't really make mattresses in extra-extra-extra-large size..."

Keith hesitated. It had become second nature to fall asleep next to Shiro, inevitably using part of him as a pillow. And Shiro might trust the village not to harm him, but Keith wasn't so sure. Still, Shiro nudged him toward Matt's direction with a gentle push and a look that said he knew exactly what Keith was thinking.

Well, alright. A mattress would be a novelty at this point, at least. And the late dinner the Holts had put together was excellent, as well. It was like they'd known all the things Keith was craving after living in the mountains for months and had catered the meal just to him. There was bread, and three different kinds of cheese, and a pie for dessert. Keith wasn't going to take baked goods for granted anytime soon.

Matt pulled him aside before they all turned in for the night, and Keith had time for a split-second of panic before Matt was hugging him again.

"Thank you. I seriously don't know how to repay you for any of this. We all thought Shiro had died out there in the forest, but you brought him back to us."

"He saved me first," Keith explained. "My own village uh... wasn't the best. I got exiled into the snow and I would have frozen out there if it hadn't been for Shiro."

"And then you understood that he was actually a person, unlike us. I can't believe he showed up the night after Shiro disappeared, and didn't actually try to hurt anyone, and we responded by attacking him. In a way, we exiled him, too."

"You didn't know," Keith said.

"You didn't know," Matt replied. "You didn't know anything about Shiro but you still figured it out where we didn't."

"I had a lot of time to think things through," Keith said, shrugging uncomfortably. 

"Still. I don't know what your plans are; we didn't talk about that. But you're already a member of the community in my books. We could use some who thinks first and acts later."

Keith chose not to admit that it was not a particularly accurate description. At least, it hadn't been before he had met Shiro.

Despite the living arrangements, Keith spent hours tossing and turning. The mattress was nice, no question, but it was still lacking a certain something. A certain large, white, fluffy something.

Ugh, fine.

Keith got up and snuck out of the guest bedroom as quietly as he could. He thought he was in the clear until he went past the library, where the professor was definitely still awake. He raised an eyebrow in a way that made Keith blush like a schoolboy, but then just laughed and waved him on.

Luckily the rain had let up a little, so he only got slightly drizzled on during his short walk. The door to the barn creaked horribly when Keith pushed it open, and he could hear Shiro make a rumbling kind of question. Clearly he wasn't asleep, either, which made Keith feel not quite as bad.

"Just me," he whispered. "I couldn't sleep."

Shiro sighed, but tugged Keith forward once he got close enough, letting him snuggle up with Shiro's forearm for a pillow. There was just something cozier about this arrangement. Shiro made him feel absolutely safe in a way that Keith could never remember feeling.

"Silly," Shiro signed clumsily.

"Yeah, I know. I missed you," Keith admitted. Shiro tugged him a little closer in response, and if they both managed to fall asleep within a few minutes of Keith's entry into the barn, well.

It seemed Keith wasn't the only one who was missing some company.

Chapter Text

Keith roused early, still feeling groggy, but whispers from Hunk and Lance kept him from falling back asleep. They were maybe trying not to wake them up, but not trying very well. Shiro blinked one amused eye open at him, and then continued to feign sleep while Lance and Hunk argued nearby about whether they should wake them up for breakfast, and what exactly breakfast for Shiro entailed, and if Keith had turned into a wildman who just gnawed on raw carcasses or whether they should offer him some pastries instead.

The door opened again as someone stumbled in, unsteady feet scraping against the barn floor.

"Why am I up so early?" they—Pidge, apparently—grumbled.

"We need information," Lance whisper-shouted at her. "Breakfast."

"It's the first meal of the day," Pidge replied dryly. "Literally it means to break the fast you undertook when you went to sleep."

"Ok, smartass, I meant breakfast for them."

"How should I know?"

Alright, this was getting embarrassing.

"Do you want to tell them we're awake, or should I?" Keith whispered. Shiro snorted into his hair, and Lance shrieked and jumped a foot into the air at the sound.

"Whatever you've got is fine for me," Keith said, raising his voice to be heard over Lance's embarrassed complaints. He didn't add that he might murder someone for something involving fried dough. "Shiro is pretty self-sufficient."

When Shiro returned to the barn about half an hour later, blood all around his mouth, while Keith made his way through some kind of sweet pastry, he could tell the others were...uneasy. Not enough for Keith to need to be concerned; he supposed that seeing someone you'd thought was long dead return as a snow beast and give you a visual reminder of the "beast" part of the equation might be a bit upsetting. He'd give them a pass. This time.

Pidge and Matt's parents, for their part, took in stride, barely glancing at the red marks marring Shiro's otherwise white fur.

"The other villagers aren't joining us," Sam said apologetically as he, Colleen, and Matt joined the small gathering in the barn. "It's unfortunate, but I don't think they're invested enough at this stage."

Colleen rolled her eyes, and Keith decided he liked her. "Scared, more like."

Of the witch or of Shiro, Keith wasn't sure.

"What's the plan?" Matt asked. "I mean, we're happy to have Shiro back and we could probably set up a permanent place for him in the barn as long as the McClains are okay with it, but something tells me that Shiro has other ideas."

The growling huff Shiro made was probably answer enough, but Keith repeated Shiro's request from last night just to bring the point home.

"He wants to go confront the witch."

"Oh, that will go well," Lance said under his breath before being cut off by an elbow to the stomach from Hunk.

"Lance is right, though," Matt said, the grimace on his face demonstrating how unhappy he was to say it out loud. "She's not exactly going to be accommodating if Shiro shows up and just asks her nicely to make him human again."

"The timing might be useful, though," Colleen said, turning toward the professor with a look that certainly meant something deeper.

Sam sighed before turning to the rest of them. "We have reason to believe the witch might be getting more brazen."

"Brazen how, exactly?" Keith asked. He wasn't sure how much more brazen than 'turning someone into a snow monster' one could get.

"Luxia," the professor said, a hand in his hair. "She's dead. We found her out in the surrounding woods, completely... well. It seemed like someone had drained her of life."

"The elders have kept it quiet, but we believe the witch is planning something, and somehow using the villagers to accomplish it."

The pieces snapped into place. They wanted Shiro (and maybe Keith, but of the two of them, Shiro was certainly the more capable) to confront the witch. Probably try to kill her. And he knew Shiro also wanted to kill the witch, so he was definitely going to go along with it, whether she took him out in the process or not.

Well, fine. But he wasn't going to let Shiro do this alone.

"We need a plan," Lance said as Keith came back to the conversation at hand. "We can't just walk up to Haggar's front door and start shooting her in the face with arrows."

As much as Keith didn't want to agree with Lance, it did make sense.

"Colleen and I can outfit you with weapons and enchantments, but I'm afraid we won't be much use in an actual fight."

"You should stay here, in the village," Matt said, Pidge nodding beside him. "If something goes wrong and the witch decides she wants to go on a killing spree because all we did was make her mad, someone is going to need to evacuate everyone."

"How did you approach her last time?" Pidge asked Shiro. "No one else has been stupid enough to go out there since."

"Just... went," Shiro signed with a shrug. Keith could picture it perfectly, fondly shaking his head as he relayed Shiro's answer to the others.

"We could start with that. Have someone approach her, get her to lower her guard and any wards, while the rest of us are waiting to attack," Matt suggested.

"But if she's making her way into the village, enough to kidnap someone, she probably knows us. She could even be spying on us. Would it be better to send out someone she doesn't know?" Hunk asked.

Six pairs of eyes turned to look at Keith. And yeah, alright, that made sense. Anyway, Keith would be lying if he said he didn't want to make Haggar pay for hurting Shiro. He'd be happy to play the part of "bait" if that increased their chances of success.

Shiro, however, was another story. Keith felt himself yanked up and into a cage of furry arms and legs before he could even register what was happening. He winced as Shiro, now right next to his ears, made a kind of guttural scream Keith had never heard before.

Keith couldn't exactly tell if Shiro was signing anything to the others, but he was hardly needed to translate now.

"Calm down, big guy," Matt said, with a sort of exasperated voice that Keith couldn't tell was real or an act meant to disarm Shiro. "We'll all be there. It just might give us an edge, a bit of a surprise, if she's approached by someone new first."

Shiro growled, his arms tightening further around Keith to the point that it was almost painful.

"Are you trying to say you don't trust us?" Lance wailed. "You don't trust us to keep Keithy safe?"

Keithy???????

"I think what Lance is trying to say is that, even though we don't know Keith, we know he's important to you. So we're going to do everything we can to keep everyone safe. Keith included," Hunk said. It might have been a more tender exchange if Hunk hadn't had to nearly shout above Shiro's rumbling growls and Lance's continued complaints about distrust and dishonor.

Shiro grumbled under his breath, but at least did relax a little bit, letting Keith shift and get the fur out of his mouth.

"Hey, I know you're unhappy about this," Keith murmured, trying to keep it a slightly private moment. "But I'm the one unknown entity here. If I can catch her off-guard or throw her off or something, manage to keep her occupied for a while, that gives us a better shot."

Which was how Keith found himself getting suited up in some kind of magical armor that Professor Holt had made. It was supposed to be spelled against most magical attacks, though from Shiro's disdainful sniffs it was clear he doesn't quite trust it. His normal clothing (or, rather, some normal clothing he was borrowing from Matt) went over the top of the armor to shield it from view. The end result was a little bulky, but it was still chilled enough outside that multiple layers make sense to ward off the cold, so hopefully the witch wouldn't look into it too much. Given the witch's nefarious intentions for the village, no matter what exactly she was up to, they had all agreed that the goal was to take her out. So here was Keith, on his way to attempt to kill an extremely powerful magical woman.

Keith privately admitted that there were a lot of "hopefully"s and "should"s and "could"s involved in this plan.

But it was still the best shot they had, and none of them had wanted to wait. Keith could tell how anxious Shiro was to regain a human form, and the others rightfully pointed out that the longer they dawdled, the more likely Haggar was to figure out what they were up to.

He made the trek out to the witch's cabin, a few miles away from the village proper, and though he couldn't hear everyone else traipsing along behind him due to silencing and invisibility spells Colleen had laid on top of them, he knew they were there. Or at the very least, he knew Shiro was there. It was like there was some kind of little tether in the back of Keith's mind that linked up to something that just felt like Shiro.

He'd wonder about what exactly that meant later.

For now, he kept going, occasionally pulling out the map more for appearances sake than anything else. Keith was pretty good at tracking, and he'd already memorized the path he needed to take, but he was supposed to be playing the part of "hapless traveler on a journey." They weren't sure how much surveillance of the surrounding area Haggar was doing, and Keith wanted to do everything in his power to make sure Shiro could get his life back. Sure, there was a little part of him that would miss curling up against a giant, protective ball of warm fur, but Keith could see how much Shiro longed to actually reintegrate into the village. Keith's own wants were insignificant in comparison.

When he finally reached the cabin, he wondered if he had somehow taken a wrong turn after all. It just looked too...innocent. There was nothing in the simple wooden walls that screamed "an evil witch lives here!"

The door opened before he could even knock on it, and he amended his previous statement. "Haggar" was the only adequate name for the woman standing in the doorway, glaring at him in suspicion. Her hair was long and unkempt. skin pale, eyes bloodshot. She had the look of someone who had been spending several consecutive nights on a very physically and mentally taxing project.

"Well?" she asked, voice raspy, her eyes looking him up and down in a way that made him feel like he was being weighed and measured.

"I... need a love potion," Keith said eventually, hoping he could sell it well enough. "Love potion" seemed like something common that people would go to a witch for, right?

Haggar got uncomfortably close to his face, peering directly into his eyes as Keith nearly fell backwards to avoid touching her, but eventually she waved him into the cottage.

"What kind of love potion do you need?" she asked, already walking away from Keith and toward a cabinet against the wall.

"Uh, what are the choices?" The longer he distracted her, the best chance of success they had. He walked further inside, letting the door close behind him and feeling Shiro's concerned gaze through the wood itself.

The witch listed off several in quick succession, Keith barely following as she pointed to several different containers in the cabinet, none of which looked particularly safe for human consumption.

"Here," she said eventually, waving him further forward when it was clear he was overwhelmed by the choices. "Put your hand out and feel the aura of the potions."

Whatever the hell that was supposed to mean.

But the moment he stepped closer to the vials, Haggar grabbed his arm, hissing at him. "Did you truly think that would work?"

Well, Keith had been hoping...

"Fae!"

That one stopped Keith's thoughts in his tracks, enough that he let out a confused 'what?' in response. Did she think he was...?

Everything else snapped into meaning as a white-haired woman stepped out of a shadowed corner. There were bright designs up and down her dark skin and she was wearing some kind of intricate silver bands all along her arms, though as she stopped in front of Keith, he saw that the one on her left wrist traced back to a cord Haggar was holding.

Not bracelets: Cuffs.

And not silver: Iron.

Oh, fuck.

"I'm sorry," the woman gasped. Light sparked at her fingertips, but before anything could happen, an explosion of noise from behind Keith distracted them all, and there was a sudden splintering of wood as the door was ripped unceremoniously from its hinges. Shiro, now visible and audible, snarling in a way that Keith had never heard before, pure anger and rage and retribution, immediately placed himself in front of Keith, nearly shoving Keith out of the doorframe in the process.

It was impossible to follow anything after that.

There was yelling, both from the witch and the fae as well as from Matt and Lance at the windows, and more growling from Shiro. Spells and arrows were flying through the air, most of them not hitting their targets. Hunk and Pidge suddenly appeared at Keith's side, trying to pull him away from the bedlam, but Keith dug in his heels. He wasn't leaving Shiro now, after everything.

Another scream from Shiro gave Keith the opening he needed when Hunk's arms went lax in surprise. But as Keith vaulted over part of the now-demolished wall, he slipped on something slick in the entryway, and it occurred to him that he'd never heard Shiro make that particular sound before. It hadn't sounded angry. It had sounded...pained.

Keith looked down to see Shiro unmoving, eyes closed, blood pooling beneath him.

He had gotten used to thinking of Shiro as mostly invincible. It probably hadn't helped that, upon Keith's first venture alone out of the caves, he'd been tracked by a mountain lion. Shiro had appeared as if by magic, barely even flinching when the beast bit into his arm, and then bodily picked it up and threw it so hard into a tree that Keith heard multiple bones break. It hadn't gotten up, after that, and Keith had tasted mountain lion meat for the first time that evening.

But that was a physical threat. Here, Shiro was clearly just as vulnerable to magic as the rest of them. He was bleeding. He was down. He was likely unconscious, given that he wasn't trying to get up and shove Keith back out of the room.

Shiro was the one with the claws and the teeth and the bulk. Keith had...nothing.

Nothing but himself.

He'd moved before he had even realized it, putting himself between Shiro's collapsed form and a witch and a fae. This close, he could smell the iron cuffs burning into the fae's arms, and see the tears tracking down her face. He didn't blame her for this. She clearly didn't want to be involved here at all, but under the witch's power, there was nothing she could do.

He hoped that Sam and Colleen would be able to evacuate the town before the witch went completely scorched earth on them.

The witch said something, and though the fae was clearly trying to fight back, eventually a line of bright white magic seared toward Keith. He put his hand out stupidly, as if that would do anything, shrank back into Shiro's fur, and squeezed his eyes shut.

He felt the magic's impact against his outstretched hand, making his whole body tingle and his jaw snap shut uncomfortably and his ears ring with the power behind it.

But beyond that...

Nothing happened.

When he cautiously opened his eyes, there was a clear area of destruction around them, the wood of the cabin walls and floor charred as if struck by lightning. But the magic had avoided them, parted around Keith like he had managed to bifurcate a river.

Both the witch and the fae stared at him in shock while Keith silently sent up his gratitude for whatever enchantments the Holts had woven into his armor, but when Keith tried to get up and physically attack the witch, his legs felt too weak to support him and he just crashed back down onto the floor.

It didn't matter, in the end. Lance and Hunk had taken the opportunity where Keith failed; Lance's arrow, clearly imbued with some kind of spell courtesy of Hunk since it was glowing pink, sailed through the air and sank directly into the witch's eye. As the witch screamed curses at them, Pidge and Matt darted into the cottage and set off a tiny, somewhat controlled explosion, severing the cord between the witch and the fae. The links around the fae's arms dusted to powder and Keith could feel the power coming off of her, nearly pressing him into the floor.

He did not envy the witch whatsoever.

It was over deadly quick after that. One moment the fae was yelling words in an unfamiliar language, and the next moment the witch was a pile of ash and Shiro was suddenly a human, down an arm and looking piteously small and still bleeding all over the floor.

Hunk knelt down next to Keith, Shiro's wounds closing up under a wave of Hunk's hand, but he remained unconscious. Keith surreptitiously pulled Shiro's head into his lap, pretending to ignore Lance's raised eyebrow at the gesture.

"That's all I can do," Hunk said. "He's still hurting. There's still magic..." He trailed off, glancing at the fae before staring at Keith instead, and Keith understood.

"I apologize for my part in this. You have my gratitude for freeing me from that awful witch," she told them with a bow. "It is the least I can do to heal the wounds I caused." As she said it, Keith saw the others gasp, and Matt stopped clutching his arm so tightly to his chest. In Keith's lap, Shiro sighed out, and though he didn't wake up, he looked much more at peace.

"Did you just dye his hair?" Pidge asked from across the room, and Keith took the time to really look at Shiro's human face. His fair was now a silvery white, similar to the fae's--he wasn't sure what color it had been before, but now it reminded him of the fur he'd gotten so used to. It suited Shiro. Maybe it would complement his eyes.

Shoved to the back of Keith's mind for now was the realization that human Shiro was...

Very attractive.

It seemed, however, that the fae was not content to simply heal him and leave. She sat down on Keith's other side, running her hand along Shiro's right shoulder, tracing the air where the rest of his arm should have been, and Keith had to hold himself back from snapping at her. He was still on edge, and years of being told to not to trust the fae were hard to ignore.
For her part, the fae did not seem to mind the hostility.

"My name is Allura. I will not ask for yours," she said with a quirk of her mouth. "Can you tell me about this injury?"

"That's why he originally came to the witch," Matt told her. "He was injured in an accident, and even though we all told him that it was fine and that he didn't need to keep doing everything he had done before, he still... Well. He said he felt like a burden."

"I doubt it was an accident," Allura muttered, her fingers resting just above the injury. "I believe Haggar was causing trouble long before you caught on. It is entirely possible that she did this in the first place and then altered his memories to accommodate a different narrative. Again, you have my thanks for finally ending her. By my reckoning, I owe you much more than this. But it is a start."

She traced the area once more, silver light blooming under her hands and coalescing into the shape of a human arm, a match to the one on Shiro's left side. When she finished, the new arm was attached perfectly at Shiro's shoulder, and one would barely be able to tell that Shiro had ever been without it.

Save for the fact that it remained a blinding silver color.

"A little gaudy, but illusions were never my area of expertise," Allura said, getting up and dusting off her dress.

"Thank you," Keith said, a little belatedly as he stared at the new appendage, but Allura apparently didn't fault him for the lack of proper genuflecting.

"Now then, I need to return home. It has been years, and I'm more than a little homesick. However, my ledger has not yet been cleared. Should any of you need something from me, or if you want to talk to me again"—she graciously ignored Lance's "baby I will always want to talk to you—"I will give this enchanted gem to the changeling."

A very long beat of silence followed her words.

"The who?" Pidge finally asked.

"The changeling," she said, as if changelings were common occurrences (perhaps they were, for a fae). And then she looked straight at Keith. "Oh dear, have I... did they not know?"

Keith could only stare back at her in confusion.

"Oh dear," Allura said again. "Perhaps you and I should speak together sooner rather than later."

"I'm not..." Keith managed, shaking his head. That's the kind of thing one knows about oneself, right?

"You deflected my magic," Allura reminded him.

"No, that's, I'm wearing magical armor."

"Keith, buddy," Matt said very gently from across the room, "my parents make great enchantments, but even they can't stop fae magic in its tracks. If you managed that, it was all you."

Keith looked down again at the scorch marks on the floor, and then at his hand, skin unmarred.

"I would offer to accompany you into the realm, but I feel you have other things on your mind at the moment," Allura said not unkindly, glancing down at Shiro. "Here." She pressed some kind of teal gemstone into Keith's left hand; the one that wasn't resting on Shiro's brow. "Tap that with the intention of speaking with me, and we can do so. And do let me know if there are any problems with his new appendage."

With that, she was suddenly gone in a flash of light.

Keith continued to stare at the stone in his hand, struggling to comprehend everything that had happened in the past ten minutes or so.

And then he passed out.

Sam and Colleen had sat him down, once Keith had come back around and eaten some soup, and informed him that, despite the revelation about Keith's parentage, he was welcome to stay in Arus. Though they suggested perhaps not letting the more suspicious villagers know about the news. Matt, Pidge, Hunk, and Lance had promised to keep it a secret, and of course Keith would tell Shiro.

Once Shiro actually woke up.

In the meantime, Pidge and Hunk were already eagerly brainstorming ways of integrating Keith's apparent inherent fae magic into their own enchantments, while Lance was complaining about Keith having a line of instant communication with the "beautiful fae queen."

(Allura was not a fae queen. She had told him as much when Keith had first contacted her. But he was pretty sure she was some kind of high-ranking member of one of the courts, given how she had expertly sidestepped that question when he had asked.)

Keith had spent most of his waking moments in the two days since they'd returned from Haggar's cabin alternately fretting over Shiro and speaking with Allura via the magical gemstone. It was an incredibly odd experience, hearing her voice clear as day in his head but knowing she was not only not in the room but in an entirely different plane of existence. But despite the fact that she had just returned home after several years of servitude, she answered all his questions with patience.

Keith had been astonished to hear her say that his father had most likely known Keith's real parentage, and had raised him anyway. It was only down to unfortunate circumstances that he had died before he had explained any of this to Keith. There was also a chance that Keith was the product of a coupling between his human father and a fae woman—much less likely, but a potential, now that Allura had gotten the chance to know him more and "feel his quintessence." She promised he'd be able to do that at some point, with enough training.

It was a good distraction, having Allura in his ear, chatting about the training she could put him through when he did make the trip into the fae realm, but he still couldn't stop panicking about Shiro. Allura and Hunk had both assured him that Shiro would be fine, and that a magical transformation like that just took a lot of energy. Whatever Hunk had done to heal his injuries also had borrowed from Shiro's future energy, if Keith understood the explanation well enough.

Still, though.

He looked so…small, as he slept there. Realistically, Keith knew that as a human, Shiro was much taller and more muscled than Keith, but he had gotten used to Shiro being able to pick him up with one hand and carry him around. He just looked so breakable, right now. Fragile.

Gods, was this how Shiro had felt the entire time out there in the mountains, making sure Keith didn't accidentally fall off a cliff or run into a pack of hungry wolves or burn himself trying to cook? It was exhausting. He was never going to let Shiro out of his sight after this.

The door opened and in came Lance, giving Keith a none-too-gentle once-over.

"You look awful."

"Nice to see you, too," Keith grumbled. "And no, Allura hasn't said anything about whisking you into the fae realm since the last time you asked."

"You know he's going to freak out if he wakes up and sees you looking like something the proverbial snow monster dragged in," Lance said, ignoring him. As usual.

"I don't want-"

"Nope," Lance said, hooking his arms around Keith's chest and dragging him out of the room. "You're taking a bath and then having a nap. Doctor's orders."

"You're not a doctor."

"No, but Colleen is, and she's the one who sent me over. Matt's going to sit with him for a bit, so if he does wake up, he won't wake up alone, okay?"

It wasn't really okay, but either Lance had magically augmented his strength or Keith was in worse shape than he thought, because he couldn't struggle out of Lance's hold.

"Mmph."

"Glad we had this talk." Lance shoved him toward the bathing area, and that was that.

Keith did actually feel better after he had gotten clean, though he had no plans on admitting that to Lance. When he poked his head back into Shiro's room, Matt was there with a book, and Shiro was still asleep, exactly where Keith left him.

"Mom said if you insisted on coming back here, I was supposed to give you this." Matt held a mug of tea out to him, steam still curling up from the surface.

Keith's mind was a little blurred, not quite as sharp as it should be, so he took it. The warm liquid was nice on his throat, and the drink was pleasantly sweet.

And definitely drugged, he realized, as the room started spinning before he was even halfway through.

"Matt," he whined. This hadn't been the plan.

"Relax. The bed's big enough for both of you. You just need some sleep. Actual, restful sleep instead of waking up every five minutes to see if Shiro has twitched."

Matt helped Keith maneuver his now unsteady limbs onto the mattress next to Shiro and Keith barely had enough consciousness left to feel unhappy about the betrayal before he was out.

Chapter Text

Shiro's mind was muddled, disjointed. His body felt wrong. He struggled to regain some sense of self, some recollection of what had led to this point.

Shiro remembered...

...a body in the snow.

It wasn't the first time a human had perished in his range of the mountain. He had found the corpse of a woman a few years ago and given her what dignity he could, chasing away the scavengers and burying her near a copse of aspen trees. He could do the same for this one—it will be difficult to dig through the frozen earth, but he felt like he owed it to them.

When Shiro got close, his heart sank to see that the human didn't even have a cloak or boots. Poor thing had never stood a chance. He gently turned the body over, noting the features. It was a man, and a young one, at that. He couldn't have been much older than his early twenties. His skin was pale and bloodless, contrasting sharply with the dark hair. But luckily, Shiro had beaten any other animals to the man's body. The body was cold, but not stiff; his death was recent, Shiro noted with a pang of guilt.

Nothing for it now.

But when he went to pick the body up, the man gave a tiny, breathy groan at the movement.

The man was alive.

Shiro wasted no time, immediately scooping the human up, tucking the frozen, limp body into his chest and banding his arms around him to try to shield him from the wind and cold. This close, Shiro could feel the man's breath, but it was painfully slow and shallow, and he wasn't shivering at all, so the cold had clearly already started to do its work. Shiro huffed warm breath onto the little form and hurried toward shelter. His main home would be best, but it was also very far from here, and the man needed to be out of the wind sooner rather than later if he would have any hope of survival. Not to mention that Shiro could only imagine what the human would think if he woke up in the den of a snow monster.

Shiro made his way to his nearest cave—mostly abandoned, but still free of any unwanted interlopers—and quickly built up a fire. He kept the man tucked close, hoping that he hadn't been too late and cursing his choice to wander this evening instead of going straight home.

If he still had the tearducts for it, Shiro would have wept when the man started shivering, his body reacting to the cold and attempting to burrow weakly into Shiro's fur. Shiro rubbed his hands carefully over the man's limbs and back, encouraging the bloodflow hopefully without scratching the man's skin.

When Shiro decided he couldn't stay any longer for fear that the human would wake up and panic, he gently laid him down as close to the fire as was safe. The man made a pathetic little whine at the movement, and it tugged at the lonely, forlorn part of him that yearned for human company.

But Shiro wasn’t human. Not really. Not anymore. He couldn't stay, at least not within view. He didn't want to scare the human to death. He would stay close by to ward off any predators and hope that the man woke, but that was it.

He put a few extra logs on the fire to make sure it wouldn't burn down anytime soon, and then finally noticed the state of his human guest. The heat had put more color into his face, but he looked incredibly thin and worn down. Shiro knew how difficult winter was without a thick coat of fur and sharp claws. He would just need to make sure he took care of this human. The furs in his home would be excellent, but he didn't want to be gone too long. Dinner first—he'd catch something small and easy to eat, and then go from there.

The memory faded out, but not before the image of the chalk drawing of a snow white mountain against the dark cave walls flashed across Shiro's mind.

Shiro remembered...

...a human that wasn't afraid of him.

His heart had sunk at the realization that Keith had been awake when Shiro tried to drop off supplies. It was exactly what he had been hoping to avoid, but it was bound to happen sooner or later. Keith had been asking to meet Shiro lately, and he'd gotten his wish, though hardly under the circumstances Shiro would have preferred.

Now what?

Shiro had barely been out in the snow for five minutes when he heard someone calling his name, voice straining to be heard over the wind.

He approached hesitantly, not keen to frighten Keith any further. But though Keith looked up at him with a bit of trepidation, there was also understanding and relief in his eyes. Not something Shiro usually encountered.

The happiness that Keith had apparently figured out Shiro's identity for himself was overshadowed by his concern for Keith's well-being. What had he been thinking, taking off into the snow like that without the proper gear?

Before he could overthink it, Shiro yanked Keith out of the snowdrift and carried him off, back to the cave and the fire.

Shiro stayed with him, as well—the damage was already done with regard to Shiro frightening his human guest, and he didn't quite trust Keith not to go running out into the cold again.

This human seemed different from the residents of his old village, though. Apparently once Keith had had a few minutes to realize that his savior was a giant snow beast, he'd made peace with the idea. He was already chatting and teasing Shiro, a cute little smile playing at his lips, and Shiro's heart nearly tore itself open right then and there at the reminder of what communication felt like.

Shiro grumbled at his charge, frustrated that he could not communicate back without letting go of Keith to write on the walls, but Keith laughed under his breath anyway.

Eventually his words trailed off, and Shiro looked down in concern. Was Keith having second thoughts? Was he injured?

Neither.

Keith was…. Keith was asleep. Nestled snug-as-you-please in between his furs and Shiro’s chest, seemingly unconcerned about the claws mere inches away from his neck.

What a strange little human, but Shiro wasn't going to complain.

Shiro remembered...

...Arus.

It hurt, even years after the fact, to think about his old village, but it had been on his mind lately since taking in a human guest.

Shiro and Matt had basically grown up together, especially after the Holts took him in when first Shiro's parents and then his grandparents succumbed to an illness that ravaged the town one winter. Matt was always up for something, whether that was playing pranks on Pidge or figuring out the best ways to integrate technology and magic with his parents. Both magic and technology had thoroughly escaped Shiro but Matt gamely included him anyways.

Pidge had been somewhat suspicious of Shiro at first, quiet and calculating in that way that younger siblings could be when faced with a new situation. She had warmed up eventually, and then taken to riding around on Shiro's shoulders like a monkey so she could feel taller.

Once Pidge figured out how to make friends, she brought two others into their little circle. Shiro hadn't been as close to them as he had been to the Holts, but he still missed them; the memories of the three of them sneaking around the village long after they should have been asleep and Shiro and Matt being sent to corral them were bittersweet.

There was Lance, who was usually goofing off and flirting with anything with legs, but instantly serious when the situation called for it, and a damn good shot with a bow and arrow. And Hunk, who had been afraid of his own magic at first, but quickly learned how to use it for a positive. The trick had been when Dr. Holt explained how to integrate it into baking desserts, and Hunk had been sold ever since.

He missed them all.

He couldn't fault them for not understanding what had taken place. Shiro had been half mad with panic when he had finally stumbled back to Arus, snarling and roaring in an attempt to make himself understood that had quickly backfired. It had all been downhill from then, and though he had tried to walk back patiently and calmly since then, he'd been met by magical and physical defenses every time. Better to stay out in the mountains and try not to think too much about what he was missing.

Keith, though.

Keith must have had a family and friends that were missing him dearly. He never asked, never mentioned wanting to go home, but it must have been on his mind. Did he still harbor some idea of cruelty or monstrosity on Shiro's part, that he never worked up the courage to ask Shiro to take him home? Did Keith think he was a very well cared for prisoner?

When Shiro finally got the story out of him and understood what Keith was doing out in the mountains by himself, it took all of his self-control not to go rampaging into Daibazaal like the monster he appeared to be. True, Shiro had been isolated out here alone  in the mountains, but Keith had been isolated in a village full of people. What was the point of a village if not to help each other?

Shiro remembered...

...Keith volunteering to go after a witch to try to fix Shiro's mistakes

His eyes shot open, panicking that he couldn't smell Keith.

He couldn't smell anything.

Why had he let Keith go through with that plan? Why hadn't he kept Keith safe and far, far away from angry witches?

A heavy weight was pressing him down into the ground, and all his limbs felt like lead. Where was he? What had happened?

The last thing in his memory was the witch and her captured fae, and pain coursing through his whole body. What had they done to him after that? What had they done to the others? To Keith?

Shiro tried to force his limbs to obey, levering himself partially upright, but the weight on his chest moved with him, and then a sleepy, incoherent mumble made its way to his ears.

Keith.

He still had no idea where they were, but at least Keith was alive. And likely not unconscious, given how he was at least reacting to the movement around him. Though he looked uncomfortable, draped wholly across Shiro's chest with his legs hanging off the bed at an odd angle.

But when Shiro shook Keith by the shoulder, he just grumbled more, his fingers blindly attempting to shove Shiro's hand away. And of course Keith wasn't awake enough to read any of his signs. Shiro resorted to growling at him, trying not to scare Keith into wakefulness but needing to understand what was going on. Were they safe? Was the witch going to burst in at any moment and torture them?

Shiro was getting desperate.

The next noise that rasped out of his throat sounded vaguely like Keith's name.

Keith jerked up with a shout, flailing and nearly dislodging himself from Shiro's hold in the process.

"What's going on?" he asked, clearly not fully awake yet, eyes wide as they roved over the room and then finally landed on Shiro's face. "Oh," he said, a tender little smile starting to play on his lips, and yes he looked beautiful and soft but there were more pressing concerns at the moment.

(And also was Keith... larger than usual?)

Some of the confusion and residual panic must have shown on his face, because Keith reached a gentle hand up to run over Shiro's fur, his fingers soft and slow.

"Hi," he said eventually. "It's okay, we're safe. Everyone got out fine. Even Allura. How are you feeling?"

Shiro lifted his hands, intending to start signing because who was Allura?, but Keith took his fingers and threaded their hands together. It was kind of nice, honestly, but it did mean that Shiro was effectively mute. But why was Keith looking at him like that? A cute, fond little smirk as if there was something Keith knew that Shiro didn't?

"You haven't realized it yet, have you?" Keith asked, only confirming Shiro's suspicions. Shiro could only whine in response, with his hands trapped liked this (never mind that he was strong enough to dislodge Keith's hold with barely a twitch—he liked this new level of connection). "Gods, you're cute," Keith said, his eyes widening a moment later and his cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the apparent slip.

Cute? No one had called Shiro cute since his grandmother.

"Shiro," Keith said with a laugh, tugging at Shiro's left hand. "Here. Look."

It took an embarrassingly long time for Shiro to parse exactly what he was seeing, though maybe that was due to the way he was fixating on how well his and Keith's fingers fit together.

...Fingers.

"We killed the witch," Keith explained, while Shiro stared at his own hand in amazement. His own human hand. "Well, okay that's not quite true. Allura killed the witch, but we helped. The fae," he added at Shiro's confused expression. "She's nice, when she's not being held against her will and forced to attack people."

There was something there that Keith wasn't telling him, but it could wait for now.

"After the witch went down, it undid all her magic and you switched back. But Shiro, I should warn you, your other arm..."

Ah. Of course. It was too much to hope that he could keep the one thing he had gotten from Haggar that he actually wanted to keep. Still, though, all things considered, he wouldn't undo it. He could finally go back to his life here in Arus, finally go back home. Maybe make a new life here, with Keith?

Keith, who was still holding his hands.

Hands. Plural.

Shiro chanced a peek at his right hand was astounded to see something shimmering, clearly magical, where he expected there to be nothing but empty air. It clearly wasn't hurting Keith, who didn't appear at all concerned by the blinding appendage.

"That's a 'thank you' from Allura. Like I said, she's a good person when she's left to her own will. It's not hurting you at all, is it?"

Shiro mutely shook his head. An arm replaced by a wearable, magical gift from the fae was miles ahead of how he had thought he would come out of a fight with Haggar. His mind was still fuzzy, so he'd give himself a pass for not noticing it earlier. If he closed his eyes, it felt exactly like his body had before the accident.

"Keith," Shiro finally rasped. It sounded awful, slurred from language disuse and rough from sleeping who knew how long, but Keith gave him a blinding smile in return.

"Hi," Keith repeated.

"You're okay?"

"I'm fine," he said with a roll of his eyes. "You're the one that we were concerned about. They hit you hard, because you just made yourself a big, angry target so the rest of us wouldn't get hurt."

That was true; Shiro didn't really have a leg to stand on since it was entirely his plan to draw their fire. But what had happened after? The gap in his memory was concerning, especially since Keith seemed kind of cagey about Allura. He hadn't made some kind of deal with her, had he?

"You're worrying too much," Keith told him.

"How long has it been?" Shiro asked, mostly just to distract himself. And maybe distract Keith, a little. Shiro wanted to worry to his heart's content.

"Couple of days," Keith answered with a shrug, and Shiro got the distinct impression that Keith was trying to downplay how concerned he had been. It was nice, to be cared for. "Here." Keith let go of Shiro's left hand (Shiro immediately felt the loss) to bring over a mug of water that had been left on the table next to the bed. "You're probably thirsty."

It was true, though Shiro would have still preferred to keep holding hands.

"I should probably let the others know you're awake, too," Keith started, but he sounded as excited about that prospect as Shiro felt. Yes, he wanted to talk to the others in his actual voice, but he wanted even more to just stay here with Keith before the world broke in.

"Five minutes?" Shiro said after draining the mug.

"Maybe fifteen?" Keith answered.

"Or an hour," Shiro grinned.

"You'll probably be asleep again by then, old man," Keith laughed, shifting so he could nudge their foreheads together.

"Oh, well."

"Oh, hold on," Keith said, holding up his hand that Shiro instantly reclaimed, reveling in the feeling of gentle fingers instead of claws before Keith's next words made him seize up. "Allura is in my head again."

She what?

Shiro couldn't keep himself from growling, a pathetic sound with his now human vocal cords, as if that could protect Keith from whatever the fae had done to him. Keith looked up in surprise and alarm, eyes darting around the room for a perceived threat, before his sighed and shook his head.

His fingers still entwined with Shiro's he attempted to sign something that might have been "it's fine," but Shiro didn't believe it. There was no "fine" answer to "fae woman in your head."

But Keith's eyes had a sort of glazed look to them, and he wasn't responding to any verbal or gestural questions. Shiro was just about to lift Keith into his arms and go sprinting through the house for someone to explain just what was happening before Keith came back to him with a few blinks and a glare.

"It's really hard to have two different conversations at once," he said, as if Shiro had been the problem here.

"What did she do to you? What kind of deal did you make for me?" Shiro snarled. The witch hadn't been a fae, but Shiro was well aware of how deals could go horribly wrong. If she had her claws in Keith, Shiro would tear her apart himself.

"She didn't do anything, Shiro. No deals, nothing like that."

"Fae are dangerous, no matter what. You can't trust them," Shiro said. Why wasn't Keith getting that?

Shiro only realized belatedly how something in Keith's expression shuttered at that.

"I should go get Colleen and have her make sure you're okay," he said, getting up from his perch against Shiro's chest and gently pulling their hands apart. Pointedly not looking at Shiro as he left the room.

Colleen came back alone, checking Shiro over, proclaiming him healthy and handing him some light soup before telling him to get some more sleep.

"Keith?" Shiro couldn't help but ask.

"Give him some time, Shiro," she said. "A lot has happened while you've been asleep."

Shiro puzzled it out while his body was recovering from the strain of the transformation back, coming to a single conclusion for Keith's odd behavior: Keith had fallen in love with the fae.

Whether it was true love or some kind enchantment, Shiro wasn't sure.

And it hurt, more than it should have, for Shiro to imagine Keith in love with someone else. But if that's what had happened, then Shiro at least owed it to Keith to hear him out.

But when he went looking for Keith, he was nowhere to be found.

"Oh gods, Shiro," Matt wailed when Shiro had gone to them to air his grievances. "Why are you such an idiot sometimes? I don't know a lot about Keith, but I do know that he loves you more than he loves the sun itself. There is no magic in the world that could get him to love someone more than you."

"Besides, Allura only has eyes for me," Lance said, nearly tipping his chair back onto the floor in an attempt to look apparently seductive.

"Didn't she threaten to curse your hair the last time you came onto her?" Pidge asked.

"Yes, but she did so lovingly."

"Anyway," Matt mercifully interrupted. "Just talk to him. And keep an open mind, hmm? It should be easy enough, considering you lived for years as a giant snow monster."

"You all know what's going on," Shiro realized.

"And look, we're still friends with him," Hunk said. "Go find him and have a conversation like adults. You're both pining and it's ridiculous."

Unfortunately, before Shiro could talk to him, Shiro needed to find him. Beyond a few hazy memories of Keith checking in while he was mostly asleep, Keith hadn't been by. He did eventually find Keith walking back from the forest, coming from the direction of where Shiro knew Haggar's now-empty cabin stood, and the worry prickled again at the back of Shiro's neck.

Open mind, Matt had said. Well, that was easier said than done.

"Keith," Shiro called out, hating himself when Keith froze like a prey animal.

How was it that Keith seemed more afraid of Shiro as a human than he had of Shiro as a monster?

"Did you need something?" Keith asked, his voice flat.

"Can we talk?" he asked.

Keith hesitated, as if he were debating saying no and bolting back into the woods, but eventually he nodded.

"This way." He turned without checking to see if Shiro was following, making his way down something that might have once been a path in the forest but was now so overgrown that it was barely any different from the surrounding area. If Shiro didn't know any better, he'd think Keith had just struck out in a random direction, but this was Keith walking with purpose, picking out his steps carefully.

They eventually made it to a clearing, which Shiro thought might have just been a nice, private place to talk until he noticed the shallow pool surrounded by slightly glowing mushrooms. Keith brought them to a rough-hewn bench only a few feet away from the edge of the circle.

Very clearly a fairy ring.

Open mind, open mind, open mind...

"So," Shiro said, resolutely staring at Keith's face and not the pool of water and deceptively inviting flora around it. Keith definitely noticed, quirking a brow in amusement before seemingly remembering he was angry at Shiro and glaring again.

"I upset you," Shiro said, and Keith blinked in surprise. "I'm not sure what I did, but I want to fix it."

"I don't want to be angry at you. It just kind of happened. And I'm not, really angry. I'm just... there's a lot going on, and it feels like you're not trusting me right now."

It hit home, Shiro realized unhappily. Keith had trusted him almost immediately, out there in the mountains, despite the fact that Shiro had been a monster who could barely communicate. Shiro at least owed it to him to repay the favor.

"There is something I need to talk to you about, but it's not whatever nefarious scheme you think it is. I need you to turn off the protectiveness for just a little bit," Keith continued.

"Okay. Alright. I'm listening." Open mind, he reminded himself.

"When you - after you went down. I just kind panicked a little, and Allura was going to shoot you with some kind of magic thing and I didn't know what else to do. So I just, I stood in front of you and, you know."

"Keith," Shiro whispered, aghast. Clearly things had worked out, somehow, but in the moment, that decision would have been akin to a death sentence.

"Not the smartest thing I've ever done, I know. But like I said, I was panicking, and I thought we were all going to die anyway. But Allura's magic, it didn't do anything to me. I thought it was just that enchanted armor."

Shiro well remembered what the Holts could do, weaving together magic and physical armor, but he doubted even their enchantments would be powerful enough to stop fae magic tinged with Haggar's.

Keith went silent, and Shiro let himself roll the scenario around in his mind. Keith, stepping in between a fae and her target, and not getting a scratch from it. Had he unlocked some kind of ancient magic? Had he accidentally bound the fae to himself, instead? It was a possibility, and would explain why Keith and Allura now had a mental connection. And of course, Keith being Keith, would let Allura live her life and do as she pleased. Shiro knew Keith had to have been starved for communication after everything he had gone through. Maybe that was all it was. An unlikely friendship, like his and Keith's had been, and Keith feeling protective of Allura as a result.

"So you're..." Shiro prompted.

"I'm fae," Keith answered eventually.

Shiro's mind blanked in response, completely unprepared to deal with that information. It was so far away from he was expecting.

"Probably a changeling. I didn't know until Allura told me after the fight with the witch," Keith continued. "I guess it makes sense, though. I mean, the entirety of Daibazaal hated me. They must have, I don't know, sensed something in me. But anyway. That's why Allura is talking to me. She's just explaining all this stuff that I should have known years ago and never learned."

All of their interactions fell into place with a sick kind of dread. Keith, newly learning about a part of himself and Shiro insisting that the fae were monsters, tricksters, not to be trusted.

"I'm sorry."

It took Shiro several moments to realize that it had been Keith who said it, and not himself.

"Why are you apologizing?"

"I don't know," Keith said with an uncomfortable shrug. "You haven't... said anything, and I guess technically I tricked you even if I didn't-"

"Stop it," Shiro said, harsher than he intended given the way that Keith flinched in response. Nothing to do but barrel onward and continue digging himself into a hole. "You don't need to apologize. I was the one who didn't trust you enough. I of all people should have known not to jump to conclusions about someone just because of preconceived notions. I made you feel like you couldn't tell me these things, that there was a part of you I hated. I'm sorry."

"You didn't know," Keith said weekly.

"Doesn't matter," Shiro said firmly. "I should have trusted you regardless."

"Yeah, well," Keith said with the start of a small smile, "you probably weren't expecting all of this right when you woke up."

"Have you been? To the fae realm?" Shiro asked with a nod toward the fairy circle.

Keith shook his head. "Not yet. I've been working my way up to it."

Keith was afraid, Shiro realized. Afraid of this new part of himself, and Shiro had only made it worse.

"Can I come with you?" he asked in a rush.

Keith only stared at him in response, looking just as surprised by the question as Shiro felt himself for asking it. But he'd broken Keith's trust, and he needed to repair it. It would take Shiro out of his comfort zone, for sure, but he'd been living alone in a cave for years before Keith came along. He was probably due to get out of his comfort zone.

"If that's okay with Allura," he tacked on as an afterthought. It was probably some kind of fae faux pas to invite himself along for something like this without permission.

"She said I could bring someone with me," Keith said slowly. "But Shiro, you don't need to - I know this isn't -"

"When were you planning on leaving?" Shiro said, steamrolling over Keith's protests.

"I don't know..."

Keith's eyes were wide, looking at Shiro with the same kind of wonder and awe he'd had when they'd first met. Like Shiro had been some kind of magical, godlike being.

"No time like the present, right?" Shiro said, standing and holding out his new, silver, fae-magic hand.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Shiro said. "Sounds like an adventure, doesn't it?"

"You're ridiculous," Keith said, but he let himself be slowly pulled up and brought forward to the edge of the fairy ring.

Together, they stepped into the circle.