It was another hectic afternoon as Natalia flipped through the latest chapter of Francis' cookery book. Underlining a misspelling of the word "Quickly" she concluded her work for today done.

On her way out of the office she bumped head first into Arthur: the head of the editorial company she worked for.

"Ah, Miss. Arlovskaya. Just the woman I was looking for." He commented with a polite smile.

"I was just heading of home, Sir," Natalia replied holding up the folder of papers for him to take "This is Mr. Bonefoy's latest chapter. Corrected and advised upon."

"Mhh," Arthur hummed as he took the folder, opening it to flip through some pages quickly, "excellent work as always, but this wasn't why I was looking for you."

This caught her by surprise "Oh? What can I do for you then?" she questioned a little verily. Last time Arthur had been looking for her it was to help a Lithuanian poet with his poetry publication. Natalia found the whole thing tedious. The man's poems where beyond sappy and romantic – not at all to her tastes.

"Are you familiar with the children's author Erik Sørensen?" Arthur asked with a faint smile.

Natalia thought for a moment before nodding. She had indeed heard of the Norwegian author Erik Sørensen.
A rather strange man if rumours where to be believed.

"What of him?"

"He recently sent a request to have one of our editors look over his work. The previous one apparently clashed a little too much with his...eccentric personality," Arthur coughed awkwardly.

"Every writer is eccentric. How bad can he really be?"

"You'll get to find out first hand when you go see him yourself I believe," Arthur handed her a small piece of paper folded in two "Any expenses you use to get there will be paid by Sørensen himself,"

"Expenses?" Natalia gave her boss a puzzled expression before unfolding the paper, eyes widening as she realised just exactly where Erik's home was.
"That...that's in the middle of nowhere!" she exclaimed, staring at Arthur in disbelief.

"Why on earth does he require me to come all the way out there? Can't he just send us his work vie e-mail or something?"

Arthur shrugged "I'm not sure, all I was told was that he refuses to have anything online or in digital form until everything is perfected and ready for printing. However, I can offer the job to someone else if it's too troublesome for you."

Natalia bit her bottom lip as she considered her options.
"Can I phone him or something? To work this out?"

Arthur nodded with a smile.
"Certainly, I'll send you his contact details so you can get a hold of him tomorrow."

"Thanks" Natalia gave a nod to Arthur before taking her leave; mulling over the proposal for this job the entire way home in her car.

The next day the first thing she did was punch in Erik's phone number, tapping her pencill against her desk as she waited for the author to answer.
It took a while but he finally picked up.
"Hallo..." his voice was deep and rather muffled – it sounded as if he had been asleep.

"Good morning Mr Sørensen. Natalia Arlovskaya from UU Editorials here."

"Oh yes..." Erik replied nonchalantly

"I understand you wish for someone to come in person to read over and edit your work."

"Yeah. Prefer that to phone calls and e-mails," he grumbled.

"I see..." Natalia lied; she didn't understand him at all "I'll make the necessary preparations, but I won't be able to arrive until Friday. Is this acceptable?"

This would give her four days to pack and think of ways not to harm this man for making her travel so far. At least the pay was high enough to justify going to the middle of nowhere.

"Sure. Call me if you get lost Miss Arlovskaya," Erik replied. Natalia could hear him move his head up and down in slow nods.

"I doubt that will be a problem. Until Friday...god day."

She hardly waited for him to mumble a 'good bye' in return before hanging up.
Huffing she glanced around her office with a slight frown. She needed to pack. God knows how much material Erik had to be read and corrected.

-X-

The drive took her five hours.
One hour was spent solely on a long and windy country road that was so covered in snow that it was hard to tell where road began and ended.

Cursing and grumbling she finally made it to the middle of fucking nowhere-land. The snow was at least up to her knees as she stepped out of the car, but flicking her hair back, Natalia took it with grace.

Knocking on the door as hard and her cold hands would allow her, she took a step backwards and waited.
She bopped up and down on her feet, trying to keep moving in some way to ward of the cold.

Inside she heard some shuffling before the door was finally opened and a man in his late twenties opened the door with the most bored expression she had ever seen on anyone since Heracles had asked her to check his book on cats.

"Hei," Erik greeted with a voice Natalia could only describe as utterly devoid of emotion "Come in, you look cold."
Nodding courtly and stomping some of the snow on her boots off, Natalia stepped inside the relatively nicely sized cottage; revelling in how warm and cosy it was compared to the chilly and snow filled landscape outside.

"Quaint," she commented as she took off her shoes and coat. The cottage was built out of logs with wooden panels and floorboards lining the walls and floor – most likely to keep out the biting cold.
It was plainly decorated with little colour. The odd picture on the wall and book cases full of books (and a few figurines of trolls and fairies) the only things that gave any indication as to what kind of person Erik was.

The sofa had a few pillows and blankets, but it looked so new and pristine Natalia didn't think Erik himself had ever used it.

"Got any luggage?" Erik asked as he leant against the door frame.

"Only a little. I'll bring it in soon," she turned to face him, trying to get a good read on this reclusive author. "I just want to see what quantity of material you have for me to read though before brining any of my things inside." Deep down she hoped this could be done in a day.

"Hrm," Erik grunted "Follow me then..."

Natalia followed closely behind as he led her away from the living room and down a very small and narrow hallway before entering a door to the left.
It was apparent from the moment she stepped inside that this was his workspace.

There where two large desks on opposite sides of the room; one filled with art supplies and the other had a old fashioned typewriter and a laptop.
Only one desk chair between the two desks – with wheels – Natalia figured Erik simply rolled from one desk to another depending on what he did.

The wall directly opposite the door was essentially just one very large window that faced out onto the snow-covered landscape. From the workroom one could see the lake and forest in the distance with large mountains towering above them.
She certainly understood why someone might take a lot of inspiration from such a place.

"That shelf there," Erik pointed to one to the right, fairly close by to the desk of drawings "is full of books I think are more or less done..."

Natalia took a sharp intake of breath. There where at least 50 books in that shelf.
"That...that's a lot more than I expected..." she stepped closer to tilt one of the crudely bound books out from it's place on the shelf.

"They're mostly short stories, not as if I've written a dictionary," He rolled his eyes, running a hand through his blonde hair: smoothing down any frayed strands.

Natalia nodded. Even if they were short and almost all done this was not done in a day.
Frowning she put the book back. She was probably going to have to stay here for a week if not more.

"Well then, I have a lot of work cut out for me," she voiced out loud as she turned around to face the Norwegian author. "You told Arthur that there was a room for me here, correct?"

Erik nodded and beckoned for her to follow him once again.

He lead her back up the hallway and then up a very steep staircase.
The first floor wasn't as spacious as the downstairs was, but her room still fit a wardrobe and a double bed. So Natalia didn't mind too much.

After showing her her room and the bathroom, he continued showing her where everything was.
The kitchen was quaint but homely. It smelled strongly of coffee, and upon opening a cupboard and finding several packets of instant coffee, ground coffee beans and even whole beans, Natalia decided that the coffee smell was something she would have to get used to it.

They carried her things in from her car in relative silence, only exchanging a few words as Erik asked where she wanted her various items stored for the time being.

While Natalia unpacked her clothes, Erik set about making dinner.
By the time she was done Erik had secluded himself in the workroom – a note on the door telling her to help herself to stew and whatever she wished.
He didn't expect her to do anything tonight after a long drive; so she settled down in his living room and tried to watch some TV.

Come ten o'clock she was too tired to even focus on the flashing images and dragged herself up the stairs and into bed, purring contently as the soft mattress and duvet engulfed her.
So far this wasn't the worst assignment she'd agreed to take.

-X-

She awoke the next morning to a pot of coffee already made and a note to say she could help herself again to whatever she wished.

After having eaten her breakfast she made her way to his work space, knocking twice before entering.
Erik ignored her completely, so Natalia decided to just grab a handful of books to sift through and brought them to the living room.

Despite the contents of the stories begin aimed at children, Natalia detected a slight streak of morality in most of them that made them interesting for adults to read as well.

Armed with post it notes and a pen she sifted through 10 books that day. Erik's issue wasn't really anything to do with the contents; it was more spelling and grammar that seemed to allude him.
However, she quickly understood that many of the mistakes she at first though were mistakes or errors on his part was part of the story.

She marked a full book before she realised that what she thought was a misspelling of a name turned out to simply be a different way of spelling the name.
Frustrated and a little angry, she had to re-do that book.

It had been a long time since she had edited children's books. The wording needed to be simple and descriptive. While other books given to her to check made her cringe at the use of certain words, the same words couldn't be substituted for anything else. Children interpreted things differently after all.

Dinner was eaten together, but in silence. Erik seemed to be in a completely different world. Eyes glazed and distant as he stared into empty air for a good ten minutes. Fork empty and suspended lazily above his plate. Natalia wasn't sure what to do at first.

Then she grew tired of his silence and gave him a kick to the shins.

"Tell me," Natalia put down her cutlery and stared at Erik "Where do you get inspiration from?"

Erik gave her a puzzled look "Inspiration...?" he mulled over the word for a while as he swirled his water around in his glass.
"I guess...things around me?"

"There's nothing living out here save for the odd animal, and yet to write these little stories for children. Filled with brave heroes and heroines, monsters and good guys. There are morals and lessons to learn in so many of them...so how and why?"

Erik shrugged.
"I like children," he stated flatly, making Natalia sight. Usually she didn't enjoy long conversations, but Erik was the king of short answers and disinterest.

"Forget I asked." she huffed as she resumed her dinner.

Three more days passed in relatively the same manner.
Even if Natalia was getting a lot of work done, she was growing increasingly annoyed at Erik and his silence..

The man hardly spoke, kept to himself a lot and seemed to prefer to communicate with written notes instead of actual words.
However, when he did speak Natalia didn't particularly enjoy what he said.

Sarcasm seemed to be his preferred method of 'joking', and if it wasn't sarcastic it was usually snarky or bitter.

By day five Natalia was about to strange the Norwegian man with her bare hands and leave him to rot in his secluded little cabin.

The final straw was when she'd gone to use the washing machine for only to find that all her whites had been dyed a pale pink due to Erik having thrown one of his stupid red t-shirts in with the white wash.

Fuming, she threw her now pink shirt down on the floor and stormed angrily out the room, fully intending to give this damned man a piece of her mind.

However, she came to a sudden halt as she rounded the corner of the living room and spotted Erik reclining in his chair. For once he was out of his workroom and in the living room.

His feet where dangling over the edge of the armrest and he was smiling ever so faintly at the book in his hands. The golden glow from the setting sun illuminated the bare and dark room, giving it a softer look.
Suddenly Natalia understood why Erik kept that miniature whale-skeleton in the window. The shadow it created on the wall made for a beautiful if not a little haunting image.

She stood there in stunned silence, watching his eyes flicker from left to right over and over again; before turning the page and starting anew.
He looked so peaceful, so happy and content.

All she had seen until now was frowns and sneers – but the white pages in the book seemed to draw another personality of of the cold and distant Nordic man.

Taking another small step forward to get a better look at him; she immediately regretted it as the floorboards creaked under her bare feet.
Erik's head snapped up from the book and stared at her, eyes wide in surprise for a brief second before they fell down to his normal expression of half-lidded boredom.

"Need anything?" He enquired coolly, the warmth in his eyes long gone as he slowly started to close the book.

"No.. not really," Natalia began as she took another few steps closer to him "Just curious as to what you're reading..." she titled her head to the side to get a better look

"Fairy-tales...by H.C. Andersen.." she read out loud as he saw the faded and word down gold letters on the book's spine.

"Mhm, good stories," he mumbled, glancing back at the pages and smiling to himself.

"He's Danish though," She didn't think Erik would openly admit to liking that – but clearly she was wrong.

"Nationality doesn't matter when it comes to good stories," he explained, voice soft and warm.

"Are those stories what inspire your own ones?" She inquires; immediately regretting asking as Erik's eyes turn cold and angry, slamming his book shut and disappearing out of the living room, leaving Natalia to wonder and trying to understand what happened.

She doesn't see him for the rest of the day and upon discovering he's actually locked his door this time, Natalia only grows even more frustrated with him and vows revenge.

Revenge comes in the form of laundry. While bleaching her own pink clothing (to try and make it white again) Natalia spotta a few of Erik's blue shirts in the hamper. With a glint of mischievousness she throws them all in the sink. Stirring them all around carefully, a smirk on her lips present as he hums to herself.

Erik clearly knows nothing of her schemes. She even has time to wash them all and hang them back in place before the Norwegian male even emerges from his work room. Natalia notes he must have been doing artwork of some sort because his hands are covered in ink.

"You've got some ink...everywhere" she almost laughs as she notices it's even in his hair.

Erik grumbles and runs a hand through his blonde hair, only making the situation worse.
"Shower..." he mumbles and disappears upstairs.

By the time he halfway stumbles back downstairs, Natalia is already eating her dinner.
She almost chokes on her potato dumpling when Erik strolls into the kitchen in only trousers and still damp hair.

"Put a shirt on," she scolds, trying to hide her blush by pretending to wipe her mouth with a napkin.
There are some strange tattoos on his back. Runes by the look of it, but Natalia can't be quite sure of their meaning.

"All are in the wash..." he replies without turning to face her, helping himself to some dinner before joining her at the small wooden table.

It's barely wide enough for two people to eat at, so their plates clink together and hands brush past one another whenever they try to reach for something at the same time.

Eating her dinner far too quickly, just so she can leave the table, Natalia goes back to correcting one of his books.

She's pulled out of her editor-mindset by the confused voice of Erik asking her a question.

"I could have sworn the shirts I put in the hamper earlier today where blue," he comments as he stares at the white shirt he just put on.

"Really? Because I'm pretty sure they've always been white," she replies with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

"Oh?" Erik slips the shirt off again and holds it in front of him, looking at it as if it's alive.
"You're probably right," he reasons after a few seconds of intense staring, before putting it back on.

As he disappears out of the living room, Natalia rubs her eyes. She knew he was a little eccentric, but this solidified in stone that he certainly lives in his own little world.

-X-

"There you go," she huffs as she places the the last book she's corrected back in the shelf. "All done," she rubs her hand together lightly as she cast a glance at Erik hunched over his drawing desk.

It had taken two weeks to get through all his current finished books, and she didn't know how long exactly it would take him to correct all his mistakes before she had to check it over once again.

He still drove her crazy with his few words and odd mannerisms – but she had managed to ignore it all enough; telling herself over and over again that she was soon going home and wouldn't have to see him again for what she presumed would be several months even.

He helps her with her bags, carrying them back to the car just like he did when she first arrived. However, goodbyes are short and terribly formal. A light handshake and a half-hearted wave before he disappears into the house once more.

Natalia frowns as she puts the car in reverse and turns it back around. She doesn't see him standing in by kitchen window, watching her drive away.

The first thing she does when she's back home is take a long and relaxing bath. Filling it the entire bathroom with candles and the water itself with flower petals and oils.
Sinking into the warm water she leans back, savouring the quiet atmosphere around her.

A little too quiet even.

Lying in bed she suddenly realises how used to Erik's house creaking in the wind she's becoming.
Or how she's a little surprised to find herself annoyed no one's made her coffee when she wakes up.

She makes far too much dinner and curses angrily at herself and the already overfilled freezer as she tries to not waste too much of it.

Telling herself she's just stressed and a little disoriented from her odd job in the middle of nowhere, she pushes the feeling of loneliness away and goes back to work.

She's been alone for so long. Two weeks with strange company isn't going to make her want anyone.

A.N: Cookies to whoever can guess what the "UU" in "UU Editorials" stands for.

Again, this was born from me staring at Ducere's picture for too long ( it's my desktop background okay? I'mnotsorry) and very odd but still flawless conversations with Laura. (not to mention some lovely help from Squirreltastic)

I am trying to give Laura feels. I'm not sure if I'm succeeding enough.