She didn't run away, not that there was anywhere to run to. At least of her three options, I was better than winter's wrath or the Authorities. Some contest that was, both would lead to her death. She didn't question when I came back with blood splattered over my coat. She didn’t speak at all until I came with one of our land's thick coats to give her.

"You don't need help me," she said, huddling in a ball on the bed of the shack we were camped in, its occupants doubtlessly taken by the authorities some years ago. I threw the coat at her and knelt by the measly fire we just barely managed to keep alive.

"Soon you'll be strong enough to fend for yourself," I agreed. "then you won't need my help anymore."

She glared at me. "Didn't you hear? I know my accent not that bad. I said I don't need help, not now or later!"

"Oh?" I questioned, for some reason unusually patient with her, "Then I suppose you could have hidden from the officers on your own? Where would you go if not here? You would have frozen to death long ago without me and you know it."

She looked ready to protest, then reconsidered. A bitter expression crossed her face. She turned herself to look me in the eye. "What I owe you?"

"What would you give?" Perhaps I should have asked what she had to give, all she had I had given to her.

"Anything," her gaze was resolute, "I not be in your debt. Anything you want."

My eyes narrowed in thought. She was clearly terrified of me, I saw it many times when she thought I wasn't looking, though she refused to show it to my face. The only emotion she willingly displayed was defiance, and there was something admirable in that. She tried desperately to hide it, but she was fragile, lost in a frozen land she hadn’t chosen to come to. Yet, she was determined to appear strong, even if I could see how weak she truly was. I knew what I wanted from her.

"Stay here."

"What?" she asked, clearly confused by my request.

"Don't go," I clarified. "Your company is all I ask for."

Her mistrust was evident on her face. "You sure?"

"Yes." I turned away. Not being alone was worth the extra effort to feed her. "My name is Rag'jah. What should I call you?"

She frowned, "Doesn't matter."

"What about your name?"

"Suhnyii. Can’t say, no?"

"Probably not." I shrugged. Southern names were nasal and difficult to pronounce. But I already had a name in mind for her. "I’ll just call you Sun, because your skin is sun-kissed."

She nodded. I continued to go through what I had collected from the day, turning my back to her for a moment.

"Thank you," she whispered.

****************

Sun eventually lost most of her tan, so I allowed her to accompany me on relatively safe excursions. She wasn't allowed to talk unless I told her it was safe though, her accent was too recognizable. After a while we searched for a new place to camp. Staying in the shack for too much longer would be dangerous; the Authorities made a habit of occasionally revisiting their crime scenes. Neither of us could afford to be found.

Nothing happened for weeks, so I got daring. Something about Sun made me disregard the lessons I learned from my years of hiding. I started taking her into the villages, then towns, and finally the city.

I had a few associates in the city, one of which was a baker. He gave me free pastries for the debt he believed he owed me for defying the Authorities, who killed his wife and took his son. He really owed me nothing. I was fighting for myself and my freedom, no one else's, but I wasn't about to turn down free food, especially pastries.

The bell on the door rang as we entered his shop. Warm air fogged the windows and the smell of sweets engulfed us. Sun grinned, doubtlessly recognizing the scent from the times I bought her the old man's goods. The baker was out from the back and behind the counter in a few moments. Flour dusted his balding head and gray hair. Various kinds of dough stuck to the apron that covered his slightly swollen belly. A smile graced his face at the sight of us, bringing some light to his features.

"I figured you'd be coming around soon, Rag'jah," he looked curiously at Sun. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Sun, someone I've been keeping around."

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"I see," he chuckled, "No wonder you've been eating through the supplies I gave you so fast."

"I'm sorry I have to ask for more," I explained.

"No, no!" He waved off my apology. "Any friend of Rag'jah's is a friend of mine! Come, I have plenty of danishes in the back for both of you. You shall eat them while I get the other goods I've been saving."

"That’s very generous of you," I thanked him. I glanced over my shoulder to the girl, who looked around with curiosity, "It's okay to talk to him, Sun."

Her face lit up as she turned to the baker. "So you're one who bakes good buns and cookies?"

Surprise flashed across his features. "You’re from the southern countries. I haven't met a foreigner outside the compound since the Authorities came to power."

"Yes, well, this not very welcoming country," she said lightly. "It's rather cold for southern tastes."

The baker laughed, "Then let's hope our food makes up for our weather."

****************

We returned to the basement of the decrepit house we were currently sheltered in. Sun immediately took to tending to the embers of the fire we had managed to kindle. I idly asked her what she thought of the baker. She paused in her work, considering. Her answer surprised me.

"He has very sad eyes."

*****************

I was a fool to be so bold, to think I could hide Sun. The officers notice everything, even things commoners don’t. I should’ve known no matter how many times I pulled Sun into dark alleyways, pinned her to shadowed walls and warned her to keep quiet while an officer passed by. There was no way we could escape their notice forever. Sooner or later, they would spot an able bodied man not in their army with a girl a little too tan to be this far north, and eventually, they did.

It just had to happen in the bakery.

Sun's favorite place was the bakery. Often she would tug on my sleeve if we were passing by. I was never able to refuse her. The baker was happy to see us and we always left with full bellies. But we weren't the only ones who enjoyed the old man's pastries.

I was chatting with Sun and the baker while he was packaging some sweets for a customer coming later. My back was to the windows and so I didn’t notice the approaching officers until the door opened.

We all startled at the sound of the bell. Sun stopped mid-sentence, knowing her accent could ruin any chance she had of fooling them she was a native. The two men glanced around before walking to us. The metal pins on their uniforms flashed under the lights. I kept my glare to a minimum, not wanting to cause trouble in the city, where backup was always close at hand. Besides, Sun was nervous already.

"We'll be having a couple of those sweet rolls you're so famous for," one said to the baker, who nodded and accepted the offered coins. Meanwhile, his partner turned his attention to Sun.

"You sure look like you've seen a fair amount of sun," he purred, leaning over to look her in the eyes. I resisted the urge to punch him in the face. He was terrifying the girl, who nodded mutely.

"We have been outside a lot lately," I offered as an explanation.

"Really?" he said, "Because you don't look as tan as her. Besides, when was the last time you saw the sun out, Markris?" he asked his fellow.

"I don't know," he leaned back in mock thought. "I'd have to say when we went on that train to the southern countries. Say, girl, haven't I seen you before?"

I whipped out my rifle. There was no point in hiding. I could only hope we could get out before their reinforcements came. The one referred to as Markris was already speaking into his radio and the other had drawn his weapon.

"Come with us quietly, girl," the armed officer warned, "you don't want to get in the middle of a firefight."

I didn't look back to see Sun's reaction. I didn't have time if I wanted to survive this. I fired without hesitation. I had been in too many shootouts with the Authorities to fall for their tricks any more. He fell, bullet in his heart. The second officer shot his handgun, but missed horribly, obviously caught off guard by my aggressive offense. That gave me time to shoot him down. By then it was too late, reinforcements had come.

There were half a dozen of them. I only had five shots in my rifle, two of which had already been used. I took out another officer at the cost of another bullet. The remaining five charged us.

I had four in my sights, a number I quickly reduced down to two. My rifle was out of rounds, but I was far from helpless. The first officer to seize me was greeted by the gun's butt to the face, which knocked him away. The second got the barrel jabbed under his collarbone, effectively injuring that arm. The baker abandoned the counter, appearing behind him and punching him to the ground.

A screech sounded through the bakery. The fifth man was attempting to capture Sun from behind. She growled and kicked back, hitting her attacker between the legs. He didn’t release her; the officers had more endurance than that, but his grip did loosen considerably. She spun in his arms and nailed him in the lower ribs with her knee. He fell back, smacking his head on the counter and collapsing to the floor.

A gunshot rang from behind me. I spun just in time to see the baker fall forward. Blood seeped from the wound in his back, right in the center of his spine. He choked a couple of times before lying still.

Reacting on instinct, I rushed forward and bashed the man responsible in the head with the rifle’s butt. The officer rolled over from the force of the blow, skull caved in.

We had to leave before more came. I grabbed Sun's arm, not caring that I was being rough with her. I dragged her from the bakery and down the cobblestone street. It was dark, which was just as well, the last thing we needed was to be spotted. We kept to the shadows and avoided street lanterns. Even after we left the city, I dagged Sun through the deep snow and refused to slow until we were safely in the basement.

Only then did I notice we were both covered in blood. I was splattered from the spray of my victims, some of which had rubbed off on her where we touched. She stared up at me with big, scared eyes.