Yuuri was familiar with cold. Even the tropical sea wasn’t always warm, when storms brought howling winds and the chill that rode on harpies’ wings. Yet, as Victor’s ship sailed north for a reason Yuuri had not quite understood, the cold turned to something else entirely.
The sky froze, shivering so much that she cried with ice. The shores they neared bore pure white sand, built up like the plush blankets of Yuuri’s crow’s nest. The siren’s wings twitched as he watched the land from the bow of the ship, the crispness of the air tickling at his nose. His ears grew so cold that his feathers sprouted, flat back to shelter them in a thin layer of warmth. Curious, he spread his wings.
“Yuuri, don’t, that’s–”
Victor’s warning was too late. His siren flew to the shore, wings drawn in to drop for his usual landing. Except when his feet hit the surface of the white sand, they sunk. With a yelp, Yuuri plunged in, waist deep in crystallized powder. It bit at his skin, freezing his nerves. Goosebumps sprang up over his entire body, his robes doing nothing to shield him.
Yuuri tried to push himself out, but his hands merely descended into the powder. Skin not covered in his markings turned red, fingers numb, his vanished toes already screaming from the frost. Yuuri flapped his wings, hard, and the powder exploded all around him.
Victor was unable to restrain his laughter as the siren was cascaded by a massive snow fall of his own making, coated completely. After a few panicked moments spent kicking up even more snow, Yuuri managed to dig himself out, shoving off with his wings and soaring back to the boat. He hit Victor at speed, octopusing his frozen limbs around his captain.
Snowflakes dusted his feathers, soaking into his robes. White crystals peppered his dark hair, sparkling like miniature diamonds in the dark of his long lashes, which blinked questioning up at Victor. The pout chilling Yuuri’s lips was irresistable, even as Victor yelped when Yuuri’s frozen hands groped under his shirt as he sought out warmth.
“Yuuri, your hands are– no, not there!” Victor squirmed away, laughing.
Yuuri’s teeth chattered together and he refused to let Victor get away. He clung, toes perching on Victor’s shins, fists bunched tight in the fabric of Victor’s coat. “Cold!” Yuuri’s chirp was distressed, snowflakes twinkling above his eyes. It almost seemed a shame to warm him up.
Victor removed his coat and draped it over Yuuri, carrying his anguished siren down to their cabin. He dusted the snow off Yuuri’s hair and feathers, winding him up in their blankets. He rubbed Yuuri’s feet warm between his hands, blowing warmly over his toes, unable to resist kissing them a few times until they defrosted.
Stripping Yuuri of his snow-soaked robes, Victor dressed Yuuri in two of his breeches, hushing him when the siren protested the extra layer of clothes. He pulled one of his own thicker shirts over Yuuri’s head and made him put back on the captain’s coat. Gloves went over Yuuri’s hands, his feet guided into socks and then into boots. The pout weighed twice as heavy on his lips when Victor wrapped one of Yuuri’s shawls snug around his neck, obviously unhappy in being clad in so many clothes.
“You’ll thank me,” Victor promised, kissing the tip of Yuuri’s cold nose and his eyelashes. Yuuri’s eyes narrowed, dubious.
The Archery Range 