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It was freezing.
Wilbur was freezing.
That's all he knew, all he had known for the gruelling hours that he was trapped outside.
It was meant to be a quick trip, he just needed to grab his forgotten basket from the forest and come back by the time his brothers got back to their little hovel. It shouldn't have been hard.
He hadn't seen the clouds looming over the horizon, warning him of a blizzard. He didn't realise how quickly he’d lose his way when everything was painted a stark white.
While his teeth chattered in his skull, he weakly reached to tug his jumper closer to himself. He hadn't even had the foresight to wear a damned coat. He thought it'd just be a quick walk.
His fingers were stiff now, barely responding when he tried to clench them closer to his body, his boots were heavy and soaked through by the snow. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he resigned himself to his fate.
Tears brimmed his eyes as the snow continued beating down on his face, chilling any bit of skin it could reach and stealing what little warmth was still running through his veins.
Each step was getting smaller and smaller, he knew it. He pushed on anyway. He had to at least see the village. He had to see the smoke coming from their chimney.
It was the only way he knew they were safe.
He prayed to everything out there that they'd be safe, warm and inside.
Desperately, he pushed towards the treeline, stumbling over his own feet and unseen roots as he tried make his way back to their home. He had a chance.
He thanked all that was holy when he saw the break in the trees, the end of the treeline and the beginning of the walk back to their house. Branches smacked against him and rocks tripped him but he still clumsily made his way through.
He was out. He just had to push through the small field and he’d be home. He could see the smoke rising up from their home, a sure sign of the fire raging in the fireplace.
In his hope, he hadn't realised how his limbs were locking up, how his footing was becoming more and more unsteady as ice and snow seeped into his clothing and dragged him down.
The realisation only hit him as he tumbled to the ground, straight into the thick layer of snow that coated the ground in an icy sheen. His limbs no longer willing to fight, unable to move as the cold locked them into place and numbed his muscles.
His hope died the moment he realised there was no way he was getting up.
The blizzard had won.
He didn't want to die.
Not alone.
He didn't seem to have much of a choice though. He was still face down in the snow either way. The frost bit at his face from where it was pushed up against it. The strength to move his head was seeping away along with his warmth.
Tears slipped down his face as he dimly watched the smoke rising from their cobbled little chimney. If he had the strength to speak he’d call out to them. Maybe they'd reach him, maybe he could be dragged back in and saved.
It felt pathetic to die so close to the finishing line.
At least they wouldn't have to drag his body far to bury it. If they weren't snowed in they'd find him come morning. If they were then he’d just lay out here and rot.
A suitable end for an idiot who thought he could beat the snow.
He wasn't shivering anymore, his own body giving up on the weak attempts to preserve heat. Techno mentioned that animals die quicker when they just give up. Hopefully mother frost would use what little mercy she had and give him a quick end.
The silence seemed to engulf him, it was just him and the snow. A boy and the cold. A corpse and the ice.
Snow continued to flutter down, uncaring of the death it was aiding, pressing ice cold kisses to Wilburs face as it tried to cover him in a coat of white. He almost wanted to laugh. At least he’d die with a coat.
A sob came out instead. Tears trickled down his face in tiny rivers, melting the snow and freezing on his face when the trails got too thin. It was getting painful to blink because of it.
His arm wasn't listening when he tried to bring his hand up to brush them away.
The fingers on his hand barely even twitched at his body's demands.
Distantly, he considered if the animals would get to him before his brothers did. His heart ached at the thought of them trying to find all his pieces. They'd all seen what wolves did to a body.
Maybe the snow was a blessing in that regard. A burial before a burial. He’d be hidden away in snow until the sun came and thawed him out.
A time capsule to freeze him in his last moments.
“What's this that I've found?” came a voice from the treeline “a little lost soul?”
His heart fluttered with hope before crashing down again. There was an enchantment in that voice, a call to listen and obey despite no command being given yet. This was no saviour. There was no warmth in the voice, only a cold detachment accompanied by funeral bells.
A fae had found him.
“Don’t children your age know better than to play in the snow?” The crunch of footsteps came closer. “It's dangerous weather out here.”
Wilbur bit his tongue so hard he tasted copper. He couldn't let himself utter a single sound.
“No response? Don't tell me you're already dead” he tutted “how boring…”
A hand pressed down on his back, pushing the air out his lungs with little mercy. He couldn't bite back the pitiful wheeze that escaped him, nor could he stop the coughing fit it caused as frozen air flooded his lungs again.
“Oh nevermind, you are breathing!” he laughed “what a resilient little thing” it cooed.
The hand lifted up from where it pushed, the little heat it left feeling like a brand on his skin.
“Not as resilient as you need to be though” he could hear the wicked grin in its voice “you're dying.”
The statement shouldn't have stung as much as it did. His heart ached as his mind flashed with his brother's faces again. He’d never see them again. The last bit of interaction he had alive was now tainted by the fae that had found him.
A whimper left him.
“Awww how pitiful” it cooed down mockingly “you didn't really think you'd survive this, did you?”
A hand threaded through his snow covered curls, claws scraping against the skin under his locks.“I thought you were smarter than that” it mused “did you want peace? After intruding in my woods for so long?”
“I should just let you finish freezing out here for the insult” the words were bitter and sharp, colder than the ice biting through his skin “I’ve been known to be merciful though.”
His heart skipped a beat at its tone. It having not killed him yet did nothing but fill him with dread. This was nothing that could be considered a mercy.
“We can always cut a deal” it crouched down beside him “I've watched you and the other two that follow you into my woods” the hand tightened in his hair “that doesn't happen too often anymore, many are too wise to go in there now.”
It chuckled, low and cruel before continuing.
“But not you. You and your brothers pranced around my forest and took what you needed without even asking” it scolded, a click of its tongue and a frown in its voice as it continued on “that basket you forgot has acted as gift enough to soothe the anger that caused. What it has not quelled is my… curiosity.”
There was a dangerous greed creeping into its voice now. It only seemed to grow stronger with each word it said.
“Watching humans is a pointless endeavour, you're all here one moment and gone the next. I’m much too old to get attached to such frivolous things.” Wilbur prayed the frost would take him now, this conversation could lead to no good. “Yet it made me think.”
The hand was starting to pet through his curls, sharp talons catching on his skin and causing blood to drip from the scratches it caused.
“It made me curious” it continued, uncaring as the tears streaming further from Wilburs eyes, content to continue its taunting monologue “I watched you take care of your brothers, keep a careful eye on the unruly one and a steady hand on your clone.”
There was a small pause, it seemingly reminiscing over its own thoughts while it held him captive in conversation.
“Truly, it made me wonder how hard it could be to do the same. How hard could it possibly be to raise something so young and have it grow properly?”
He could see it waving its other hand around in his peripheral, accentuating every word.
“Fae children are rare, hard to find. Coveted away by the rest of my kind who know how precious they truly are” it sneered, a quiet anger seeping in “changelings would be utterly useless, nowhere near what I want.”
There was frustration added into its tone now, he couldn't help but wonder what that meant for his fate. Silently he cursed the hand tangled in his hair, the roots ached alongside every other part of him while its hand tightened on him.
“But you - you and your brothers would be just perfect! My wife and I are powerful enough to make you into one of us with no problem, I’d get my fae children and calm the curiosity that you caused.” It was grinning now, he could hear it in its voice.
The smug satisfaction at its own conclusion.
At the declaration of its new deal.
“So that's the deal I’m offering my little snowdrop, you become one of my children and I will raise you into the perfect fae!” it looked at him from the side, icy shards bearing into his soul from where he was helpless on the ground “doesn't that sound wonderful?”
It didn't. It sounded like a fate worse than death. To be turned into a monster of the forest, to be made to serve the allmother and steal peoples names sounded like hell. He wished the frost would take him already.
That would be a mercy.
“I’m sure you’ll fight, it's human nature to be difficult” the fae hummed “luckily for me you won’t be human for long after I take you.”
The clawed hand pulled his head further up by the hair, uncaring of how he winced in reaction to the pain.
“Not much longer now, my dear” a kiss was placed to his forehead and he felt the chill that had seeped into his bones tenfold “it is a shame though, you're much cuter when you're all blue.”
It leaned close to his ear, he could feel its wicked grin pressed against his cheek “be a darling and freeze faster. I don't have all night.”
And with that the hand dropped his face back into the snow, he groaned what little he could when he felt the snow rise to smack him in the face. The creature laughed at the sight, roughly pushing his head to the side so he could at least breathe without choking on the ice below him.
The fae seemed to chill the very air that surrounded it, its presence serving as a constant cold sent to bite even further through his skin. He could hardly blink anymore, his fingers and toes didn't give him any sensation. His brain told him he didn't have much longer left.
All he could feel was the ice working to seep into him, to freeze him and have him join their chill. His tears were freezing before they could even leave his eyes now, shivers long given up on trying to warm his body as he became entirely numb.
He was exhausted, the chill having stolen his energy away along with his heat. The sweet release from the shivers, from the pain ache that had engulfed him for so long worked to pull him into rest.
Distantly, he felt pressure against his hand. Icy fingers curled up beside his own to hold him.
A mockery of what he’d do to make sure Tommy wouldn't run off to where he couldn't see, an imitation of how he’d soothe his younger twins worries whenever they went a bit too deep into the brush.
A comfort from a stranger who claimed to know him.
From the stranger actively aiding in his death.
At least he wouldn't die alone.
His eyes slipped shut, finally letting the weight of everything tug him down into sleep. He was so tired. He was done fighting, his will to try and survive leaving his body with every ticking second. He wanted nothing more than to make the cold stop and finally, it did.
The world slipped away from him, hidden away under a blanket of snow with an ice pillow under his head.
Under the watchful eyes of a fae he died, frozen like many others who came into contact with him or his woods.
Unlike the others though, this one would awake. With new eyes and wings this child would become something greater under his and his wife's care. The only cost being his life and a white streak in his hair from the magic needed to revive him.
The debt of a revival would be more than enough for a name, more than enough to make him theirs.
Once he settled they'd be sure to grab his siblings.
But for now, they let their new son rest.