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Snow (the weather phenomenon, not the wizard) was an uncommon but not abnormal sight in Central Country. Obviously, the closer you get to Northern Country, the more snow there would be, on average. But where the Sage and their wizards normally stay, it was a rarer sight.
Waking up to a soft blanket of white outside had caused quite a stir in the mansion, to say the least, though none of the Northern wizards really understood why. Owen had stood by as Riquet and Mitile slowly but surely dragged most everyone outside to play. He wasn’t interested in activities such as snowmen building or sledding.
However, Owen was never one to back down from a good opportunity when he saw it. So when Shino started a snowball fight by pelting Bradley in the back of the head with a barely formed clump of snow, it was game on.
Owen floated by most of the flying snow, dodging anything thrown at him with artful practice, trying to find his target. As he went, he gathered more and more snow in his arms. The snowfall last night was not ideal snowball snow; it was too light to properly be shaped into a ball, and not wet enough to really stick to whatever it hit, but he could make it work.
That's when he found him---an unsuspecting Cain, laughing as he chucked a snowball across the field at Heathcliff. Owen crept up behind him, the chaos all around them distracting Cain entirely. As soon as he was close enough, Owen shoved the entire mountain of snow he’d accumulated down the back of Cain’s jacket.
The ensuing scream and cackle grabbed everyone’s attention on the snow-covered battlefield.
“Owen!” Cain exclaimed, shaking his jacket trying to get all the snow out.
“Work smarter, not harder, Kishisama~”
“That’s cold as hell!” the knight complained.
Owen scoffed, “it’s not even that cold out. Just shows how weak you are, Kishisama. You wouldn’t survive a day in the North.”
Just then, Owen felt the back of his collar get yanked and coldness itself getting shoved down his neck. He instantly jerked out of reach, turning to find Bradley’s irritating smirk.
“Gotta watch your back there, Owen. Especially if you’re handing out strategies like that for free!”
Bradley, in his monologue, failed to notice Mithra walking up behind him, shoving a pile of snow into his hood before flipping it over the ex-gang leader’s head.
While Bradley was bent over, grumbling and trying to shake his hood out, Owen took the time to scoop up another projectile and hurl it at Mithra’s face.
“Come on Owen, we can beat them for sure!” Cain said, taking another pile of powder and shoving it in Bradley’s hair.
Owen stared at him in utter confusion. “But I just attacked you!”
“Oh you’re going down Mr. Knight!” Bradley interrupted, scooping up more snow and throwing it in Cain’s face.
Cain spat out a chunk of snow. “So? Are you gonna help or what?!” he shot back in Owen’s direction, before focusing back on Bradley.
Suddenly, there was a shadow behind Owen and another pile of snow getting shoved down his back.
“I’d take his advice if I were you, Owen,” Mithra deadpanned. The slight smile on his face looked oddly creepy, considering the circumstances.
Owen ignored the cold seeping down his back in favor of retaliating, quickly backing up and throwing another clump of snow right at Mithra’s chest. He dodged another snowball sent his way and ducked down as he spotted a piece of ice among the messy snow.
Owen went to grab the piece of ice, kneeling down and grasping it, only to feel a weight slam against him and send him face first into the snow. Owen quickly rolled over to find Cain on top of him.
“What are you doing?!”
“Bradley made me trip!” Cain retorted.
“Heh, right. You just weren’t strong enough to beat the Great Bradley Bain!”
Mithra and Bradley loomed over the two of them, snow piled up in their hands, wicked grins on both of their faces.
Just before the fight could be ended once and for all, before Bradley and Mithra could fully dunk the two of them in snow, Bradley was hit in the back of the head in the same way that started this whole mess.
“Hey!”
The whole group turned to find the perpetrator—a very tired looking Nero—standing in the doorway back inside.
“Come get hot cocoa before it all goes cold! Bradley, if you throw that at me, you ain’t getting shit!”
Bradley quickly dropped the snow he was holding and scurried after Nero, complaining loudly about how there were other ways to get his attention without retaliating.
Mithra shook his head. "Idiot," he sighed, and dropped his snowball to the side.
Owen rolled his eyes. “Please, as if you’re any better.”
Mithra gave him a look, gaze flickering back and forth between Owen and Cain, who’s currently pushing himself up off Owen’s legs with a laugh. Mithra said nothing else, just raised his brows before turning around and walking back inside the mansion.
The bastard.
“Sorry about that Owen, guess I should’ve been paying better attention to where I was going,” Cain said, seemingly oblivious to Mithra’s knowing looks and how close the two of them were.
“Yeah, cost us the game, Sir Knight. How stupid are you to let him corner you like that?” Owen retorted, trying to push himself back but finding his legs still partially pinned under Cain.
Cain just smiled wider. “Well, I think Nero was the ultimate winner, at the end of the day.” The knight stood up, ineffectually brushing some snow off himself before offering a hand to Owen. “Come on, we gotta hope there’s still some hot chocolate left for the two of us!”
Owen smacked Cain’s hand away, standing up on his own and turning away. “Hope for yourself, Kishisama,” he sneered before teleporting away.
The red on both of their faces had to be from the snow, it had to be.
***
Owen was wandering around the halls late into the night. Something about the evening… it wasn’t sitting well with him, and he couldn’t seem to sleep.
It certainly had nothing to do with the howling wind outside, carrying with it a chill Owen didn’t know he’d grown unaccustomed to until tonight. But it should be perfectly warm within the mansion, shouldn't it? Why wasn’t it?
Owen only stopped his meandering when he stopped by a familiar door, one with a sleeping knight tucked right behind it. He was conflicted about entering. It'd be embarrassing, it'd be hell to explain if he got caught, and he'd never hear the end of it from the other northern wizards.
Owen teleported himself in and waited a second as his eyes adjusted to the dark. He swore the room was already warmer than his own had been.
Cain was fast asleep on his bed, snoring lightly as he laid on his back with his arms flopped out like he was waiting for the world’s largest hug.
He looked so pathetic. Owen resisted the urge to pull the other’s hair out of its ponytail. There's no way it's good for his hair to be up while sleeping.
Owen stood by the bed for a while, just staring down at the sleeping form in front of him, entirely unsure what he was waiting for. It wasn’t like this was the first time he’d broken into Cain’s room, and it wasn’t the first time he’d abruptly woken him up. A half-asleep Kishisama was one of the funniest sights in the world. So why wasn’t he doing that now?
“Owen?”
He was startled by Cain’s voice, the central wizard now beginning to sit up in bed and rub away the sleepiness from his eyes.
“What’s going on? Why aren’t you in bed?”
Owen hesitated, only for a moment. “That’s none of your business, Sir Knight.”
Cain gave him a look somewhere between confusion and concern. “You’re in my room. It kinda is my business now, Owen.”
Owen looked away, not meeting Cain’s eyes. “And aren’t I always just a thorn in your side?”
Cain let out a sigh. Good, that meant Owen successfully annoyed him. Cain then grabbed Owen’s arm and pulled him down onto the bed, Owen falling almost directly on top of him.
“What is this—?”
“Come here and get to sleep.” Cain mumbled, already laying back down, only continuing to pull Owen down with him.
Owen would like to say he fought more, that he didn’t just dramatically flop down next to Cain on the bed and stare insolently at the other’s face.
Cain smiled back at him. “What? As if this wasn’t your plan the entire time?”
Owen huffed and turned away from Cain. “There are better ways to get a man to warm your bed, Sir Knight.”
“Ah yes, because that’s what this is all about, clearly.” Cain snuggled up behind Owen, wrapping his arms around Owen’s torso and pulling him flush against his chest. “A warm bed.”
“Shut up.”
Owen felt himself relaxing against his will. Cain was unfairly warm behind him, chasing away the persistent chill that had been haunting him all night. Maybe Owen could admit to himself that it was colder than he’d initially let on, and maybe Cain was strong enough to chase off the cold. Just this once.