Author's Note: This is a sequel to When Winter Melted a Heart. There were instant demands for this sequel (thank you! :)), and I strongly suggest reading the prequel because some important nuances may be lost on you otherwise.

Thanks to everyone who left/is leaving reviews for the prequel—your feedback gave me confidence to keep writing my first story on here! And the critiques are helpful in helping me become a better writer! I look forward to hearing from readers for this sequel (and hope I haven't set the bar too high for myself!). :)

I have a feeling that this story will get intricate with lots of characters and details (this first chapter took a lot of writing and filling in holes). If you see that I mixed something up as we go, let me know! (Don't want Milori to end up with Rosetta. J/K! :)) But seriously, thanks for letting me know I mixed up Milori's eye color, Juudjv! I have an idea for how to rectify that in this story.

P.S. You'll be happy to know I figured out how to code em dashes (in case all the hyphens in the prequel were driving you crazy like they were me)!

It had been three hundred fifty one years and two months since she had spoken to Milori, and three hundred fifty one years ago today since he had sent her his goodbye letter. She remembered the exact date. And she remembered the exact date his letter had finally melted in her warm hands enough that it was no longer legible, despite her tender care with the treasured piece of ice. She had wept when his letter had finally left her after ten years of extreme care. Every day she had read it, willing it to bring comfort to her that only existed for a moment in time—for every day when she read it, she could pretend it was him beside her telling her that he loved her.

Clarion stared out her window at the rising sun. Hundreds of years later, she still had his words burned and locked tight in her memory. She closed her eyes and read it in her mind every day, forcing herself to recall the precise loops and curls in his handwriting. Of course she could have copied it down onto paper, but that would taint it. And it would taint the beautiful memories of reading the letter each morning in their cabin that still sat untouched.

She had allowed brush and weeds to grow around the cabin, hiding it from view of prying eyes. But never had she allowed the cabin to begin to fall into ruin. Mary, Thomas, Sled and Gliss were charged with helping her secretly make repairs to it when needed, and no one else knew or remembered that it was there.

Sled and Gliss, she smiled to herself softly. All fairies had been banned from crossing the border for centuries, but her two faithful friends of winter were her secret confidantes of sorts who would meet her inside the cabin. She had never told anyone, but Sled and Gliss brought her updates on Milori twice a month.

Milori remained in the North Woods, although Sled said Milori's body was still gradually warming in temperature over the centuries to that of the other winter fairies. Yet, he maintained the ability to stay in the subzero temperatures of the North Woods where he lived alone. Gliss told her that Milori never neglected his duties as the Lord of Winter, but he sometimes used Gliss and Sled as his eyes and ears, not often venturing out of his home himself to socialize. Her heart broke every time they told her Milori had left his home less than five times between their updates. He had wanted Clarion to keep living and not become a hermit, but he had become one himself.

Clarion recalled the day that Sled told her Mountain had passed away, only seven years after Milori had moved to the North Woods. Sled had told her that Milori had wept as much for the death of his friend as for the loss of a piece of Clarion—the fact that they had met because of Mountain and the gift of her training Mountain to be Milori's wings. She had come to learn that winter owls only lived fifteen years or so. Gliss had told her that Milori hadn't become attached to any owl again after Mountain, although he trained his new ones himself to be extensions of his wings. Clarion had spent hours with Mary over the years trying to figure out an alternative so Milori didn't have to deal with death or need to train new owls every fifteen years. But finding alternative wings proved impossible.

Several times over the years Clarion had heard about avalanches Milori had been caught in while trying to save fairies or falls that Milori had taken off his owls. Each time it terrified her as Sled or Gliss would sneak her daily updates. She had almost crossed one time a hundred years ago when Milori's owl had been grabbed during flight by a mountain lion and Milori had been badly injured in the fall. Then Sled had pointed out to her that if she went, Milori would figure out about and ban their secret updates. So she had stayed in spring and waited on pins and needles for hourly news from Gliss while Milori had been in surgery with Dewey, Sled and one of their healer-like fairies.

Every now and then she could catch a glimpse of Milori on an owl flying to the South Woods on Mondays if she flew up high in the spring clouds at sunrise. It wasn't a clear or close view, but it was still beautiful. He still wore his cape of Mountain's feathers. Gliss had mentioned to her that no one spoke of it that he couldn't fly, and the new winter fairies had no idea he had a broken wing. Not even Sled knew if Milori still got back pains from his wings being imbalanced or had trouble balancing anymore while walking. Or even if the wing itself hurt him. And no one dared to ask and risk reminding Milori of his loss of Clarion. So Clarion often worried about him.

The winter fairies had grown to 157 over the years, and the warm fairies had exploded to 372. It kept Clarion busy enough, particularly Tinkerbelle, but at night she had time to miss Milori and have dreams of him tear at her heart. With the arrival of each new fairy, she held her breath, hoping it would be one with some kind of new talent that could somehow help the warm and winter fairies be together. But each time she was disappointed.

Gossip was starting to spread about an heir. Clarion had a little over six hundred years yet to reign and find a mate so she could become pregnant with an heir. Milori only had another four hundred left to live. She already knew her plan. In the last year of Milori's life, he should be warm enough for a warm fairy to touch again. She would go to him, seducing him if she must, and carry his child. Milori would gain an extra two hundred years of life being her mate, and she wouldn't be forced to mate with someone she didn't love. He would probably be angry about her trick, but she would deal with that when it happened. She just had to make sure accident and illness didn't befall him before that time when their mating would protect his lifespan. She stroked her barren belly and smiled, glancing down. To carry Milori's child, even if he never spoke to her again, would make all of this pain and loneliness worthwhile. Upon first learning that queens got pregnant, she was afraid of having a life inside her. But Milori had been so enchanted about it that she had started to desire it too. She had done some reading on the topic of breeding, and it was now a mystical miracle to her. Pulling out her nightdress from her belly, she wondered what it would be like to swell with a child. With Milori's child. Smiling at her own silliness, she let go of her nightdress. This plan is what what got her through one day to the next right now. Then her smile faded. If something befell him before then, she would chose a mate in her final fifty years so the child was grown by the time her own light would go out.

She suddenly saw Milori fly past the spring border—not too far from her castle—unexpectedly, and she shot to her feet to lean out the window and watch him fly away for as long as she could. Her heart beat wildly with excitement. When he disappeared, she sat down, her heart heavy again. He never tried to catch glimpses of her or even look her way if he did see her watching. A terrible thought crossed her mind, and her wings drooped. What if he didn't love her anymore? If he missed her at all, wouldn't he try to catch glimpses of her too? Wouldn't he at least write to her to tell her that his temperature was slowly coming back down and maybe they could be together in another couple hundred years?

There was a commotion down at the tinker shop, and Clarion heard Tinkerbell say, "But it was an accident!"

With a sigh, she started to get dressed to go see what mischief Tinkerbell had gotten into this time.

Milori landed back at home and patted his owl, whom he had never named. It helped to not get attached that way. He jumped down and let his thoughts occupy him on the way into the house. Clarion had looked stunning today with her hair loose and still wearing her nightdress. Without even realizing what he had been doing, he had started to fly toward her and had reached the border before he had realized what he was doing. He had turned at the last minute.

He stomped the snow off his boots on the porch of the cabin he had built two hundred years ago. The ice house he had build upon moving to the North Woods made him miss Clarion too much. Here he could pretend it was the cabin they had built. This way, he could keep the insanity from his loneliness at bay. Smiling to himself, he remembered her gorgeous smile of surprise this morning the instant she had seen him. It warmed his heart because he had begun to worry about her moreso than before. Every morning she sat at her window at sunrise and would close her eyes as if trying to remember something. And then she would slowly open her eyes, looking so mournful. Sometimes she would cry silently. In the first few years after he had left, she would cry hard and he would have to leave his spot in the trees to go home because he couldn't bear to see her heart breaking. Lately, she would stare out the window with such a vacant look. Today, he remembered with bitter sweetness, she had stroked her belly. She must be either trying to get with child or with child. He avoided fairies so he could avoid gossip about her—he didn't want to know when she mated or when she became pregnant. But he would see her start to swell with child. He would ask Sled when she gave birth if it was a female, which he assumed it would have to be because there could not be kings for Pixie Hollow. Even Clarion's mate would not be a king. He was so happy for her. He wanted her to move on for her sake, but he hadn't been prepared for the pain it would cause him.