Miriam
Chapter 26: Homecoming


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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mx6xkyi5Ij8
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The door opened with a forceful push, grinding snow into the white wooden floor beneath it. It creaked as Miriam pushed it open with her operable arm, her broken, wound up in cloth and pressed tightly against her chest constantly was of no use. Leia slipped through the spring of the door first, eager to enter a building after their long trek through the woods and their shorter, yet more tiring trip up the foot of the mountain. They hadn't come far but Miriam hoped, they had come far enough. 
	"Hello?" She started, feeling her own voice hoarse and strangely thick with sick. She didn't feel feverish, though she hardly felt anything as powerful as she felt the constant ache of her broken arm. She looked around the room. It was lit with a few candles, a small amount of light that barely revealed the contents of the room: A hearth lay to her right, charred logs smouldered passively within, a chair and a small wooden table lay to her left, above it a tapestry of woven cloth and furs. She looked ahead, a wolf's skin carpeted the entrance, its saddened expression facing the door and any visitors that entered, Leia sniffed it briefly before seating herself upon its center, letting her tongue loll out as the dog panted somewhat wearily, a content look ever plastered upon her face. Miriam walked further inside, feeling the crunch of the snow beneath her well-crafted boots as she stepped unto the wood. "Hello?!" She repeated, somewhat louder. She looked around again, there were two doorways, from one of them shone a mild light. There had to be someone in here... Her eyes flicked to her left again, to the second doorway where a shadow suddenly appeared. It rose its arm threatingly, in which she quickly spotted a plain axe. Miriam rose her functional arm in a gesture for peace.
	"Woah. Okay... Hello there!" She said nervously. The figure stopped and lowered its weapon, it then stepped out of the shadows, revealing itself to be a man. Bearded, grizzled and pale white of both complexion and hair. He looked like the mountain itself; ancient, unwavering and immobile. The man folded his arms up, looking between Miriam and Leia, who went up to sniff the man's pantleg.
	"Who in the bloody Outworlds are you supposed to be?" The man grunted, not giving Leia a second of attention.
	"I'm sorry, I should've knocked..." Miriam began.
	"Asked y' a question, lass." The man grunted. Miriam shook her head, and then promptly nodded.
	"Sorry. Miriam. I.... I used to live here." She admitted, somewhat unsure how believable that was, and why even she doubted it.
	"I was born in this house, missy. So was my pa', so I properly doubt tha' you lived here." The man grunted, again.
	"No. I mean-.." Miriam swallowed sickness. "I lived further up the mountain. Years ago. With my mother, and my brother..." She knew it would have to come out, though talking about it was weird. All of her life she'd run away from it, now she was back, and she doubted her reasoning. The man understood, however, his face contorted into something more mild and with a grevious sigh he lay the axe away, gesturing for her with an arm.
	"Close up the door, would'ya."

[u]Later[/u]

Lars gave her a blanket, it was woven with wool and Miriam, with one hand struggled to lay it over herself. She wavered a smile toward the man from where she sat, grateful for the gesture.
	"Thank-you." She said. He grunted, then sat himself in the opposite chair, grabbed his poking stick and used it to poke at the fire he'd recently started in the hearth. Leia lay between them, curled up close to the fire with shut eyes, her furry chest moving up and down in peaceful rest.
	"Didn't imagine you'd ever come back." Said Lars, after a short silence.
	"Neither did I." Miriam admitted, with a blank gaze locked on the fire in the hearth.
	"So. Why did you?" The gruff man asked, his gray eyes moving toward her.
	"I..." Miriam wasn't sure she could answer that. Ever since she'd left Freda and Eliana she'd been walking north-west, hadn't she? Even before she broke her arm she'd been coming this way... But why. To find her own life? To return to solitude? She honestly couldn't tell her own thoughts anymore. "I wanted to find my father." She said, at last. It had been the thought that made the most sense to her... She looked to Lars with an inquisitive glance. Could it be him? She'd never known her father, neither had her brother. It hadn't mattered to them, it hadn't been important. Mother knew, of course, though she never talked about it. It had to be him... There wasn't anyone else. Lars looked back at her, then he shrugged his broad shoulders. Miriam blinked.
	"What?" She blurted out in question.
	"What?" Grunted Lars.
	"You're-.." She continued.
	"No. I'm not." He replied. Looking back to poke the fire. Miriam sunk back into her chair, clutched her blanket closer so that she could sink into it, hide away from her embarassment. What an absolute idiot she was! She pursed her lips tightly and sunk into the blanket in silence.
	"Listen." Said Lars. "I remember your mother. And I remember the tragedy that happened up there - I remember that mountaineer that came by, who picked you up. Isn't it him you're looking for?" Lars asked in a reasonable tone.
	"I don't know." Muttered Miriam beneath the blanket.
	"You were just a child, I remember it... My wife wanted to take you in... Bless her." Lars shook his head in sorrowed rememberance.
	"You didn't." Muttered Miriam in short reply.
	"No. I didn't." Admitted Lars, glancing back to Miriam again. "I don't know the man you're looking for. Always thought it weird for a woman to live by herself, that far up the mountain - Whoever he was, he hasn't been back. Not since that day he picked you up." Lars shook his head meaningfully. "How about you take some time... Rest up here - We can fix that arm up for you." The old man smiled, having leaned over some in his chair to look at her through the gap of the blanket. Miriam took a moment to muddle this, though she knew what she had to reply. She had no place to go, no resources or any way to make a living other than the gold she'd been given by Freda. Not until she'd gotten better again.
	"...Alright." She said finally.
	"Just one thing you gotta do in return." Said Lars. Miriam twitched her eyes toward him.
	"What?"
	"Answer a question..."
	"What question?"
	"How -did- you survive that fire?"
Miriam could not answer that. Though recently, she'd begun to guess...	


Her days with Lars were quiet, the man lived alone in the building, once he was dead there would be no one to take over after him, Miriam asked once if he considered moving but he said he'd always lived up the mountain, and he always would. The old man tended to her arm, bandaged it, refitted it and then he took care of her fever. Soup, hot water and time in bed. Miriam felt like a child during her days here, perhaps it was the nostalgic mountain air or the fact she was so plainly being coddled. She did find that she enjoyed it. She needed it even. Whatever was going on in the world outside of this mountain was no longer important. Snow fell every day and Lars worked resoundly to save them from being snowed in completely. Meanwhile Miriam lay in bed, or sat by the fire. Every time she looked into the hearth the thoughts came back to her. The visions of her mother and her elder brother... The fire that had engulfed them and their house - Miriam looked at her hand, with which she had performed magic - Could she have done it? She didn't remember the scenario completely, only being saved by the mountaineer, whoever he was. Lars didn't bring up the question again, though by the look on his eye Miriam could tell he had his assumptions. She couldn't explain it to him even if she wanted to. Even if she owed him. In the end, she wished that she had... As one night, during a particularly viscious snowstorm, the door suddenly flung open. Miriam looked to the open door from where she sat, wind and snow bellowed inside with a mad fury only the mountains could provide. Wailing and howling visciously. Lars quickly got up and went to close it again, to bar it - Though he stopped in his tracks and looked on in absolute surprise, as a man walked over the treshold of the door. He rose his hand and he tapped the top of the door twice in a gesture for good luck, removed his hood and smiled a familiar smile through his round, gray beard.
	"Ah. There you are." Said Walter and looked past Lars as if he was air, directly at Miriam, who could only stare back with appropriate disbelief...