Chapter Two
Oliver Wood begins his day as normal: waking up late at 10am, checking on his goats who seem to have had a nice night, drinking a cup of hot cocoa and eating a hearty breakfast of sausage, eggs, and toast. The weather appears to be bad today but Oliver decides to still head down to the small village thats at the base of this side of the mountain. If a storm does come in the night, then Oliver is gonna need some supplies for the next couple of days to a week.
He heads to the small grocery and gets a bunch of food, just to be safe, he gets enough for a months worth of eating. The longest he's been snowed in at his cabin was 2 weeks last winter, but it's better to be safe than sorry. Oliver also picks up some supplies for his goats and a new axe to replace the one he accidentally broke cutting firewood yesterday. After a while living here, he almost has this mountain man stuff down pat.
Shortly after he plans to leave back up the mountain, hauling his wagon behind him, the storm starts picking up. If it wasn't for his years as a professional footballer, he would not have been in the right shape for living out here. He moved out here two years ago when his career ended after he injured his knee. Multiple surgeries managed to save it enough that he can move and keep in shape but not enough to save his career as a footballer. Something that crushed him for a months until he decided he needed to learn to live with it. There was nothing he could do to change that.
The Puddlemere United dropped him, of course. The first thing he thought of was to run away from it all. The next thing he thought of was his love and goats. He combined those two passions and formed this plan. His mother was livid with him when he decided to move into the scotland mountains and become a goat farmer. Sure, it doesn't make much money and he doesn't sell that much goat milk but he has enough money from football to never work again. He's here because he can't stand being in the public eye. He needs a break, some freedom. Oliver needed to get away, so that he could find a reason to live again. Not that his family would understand that. His father wouldn't talk to him after the first doctor's appointment where they mentioned the mere possibility that Oliver might not return.
So, even though Christmas is 5 days away, Oliver has no plans to travel home and visit his family. He might love them but with his father acting like him leaving football is the equivalent to him dying and his mother making excuses for the coldness, the entire holiday would just be tainted. Gone were the days of easy and happy conversations about football with his dad. Gone were the days where he was blind to his mothers favouritism. It hurt every time she chose to defend Oliver's father over him, despite his father being blatantly wrong.
Whether he’s gonna be a snowed-in or not, Oliver will be spending his holidays happy and alone with his goats.
The wagon is heavy and makes the climb difficult but thankfully, his muscles which just got more broad and strong after he took up his mountain hobbies, allow him to carry it with some ease. A couple times he nearly looses the cart to the wind but he manages to make it home, eventually. It seems to be later in the evening then he planned for.
When he arrives at his cabin, the first thing he notices is the smoke coming out his chimney. He is always very diligent about not leaving the fireplace on. The next thing he notices is the skies and ski poles in front of his door, lying haphazardly on the ground. Cautiously, he walks into his house holding his axe tight; still with the safety guard on it. Not that he suspects he will need it or desires to fight someone off with an axe. You can never be too safe, though.
He notices a lump on the couch in front of his fireplace. He can make out in the low glowing light, a face so pale it also glows peaking out from under one of his fluffy blankets and hair as orange as the flames warming the house. The noise must startle the man awake because in the next moment he is bolting up off of the couch. He lands on the floor with a loud thud. The scream the man lets out is ear bleeding.
"What are you doing in my house?" Oliver shouts over the screams, trying to get he mans attention. He hopes this is all some kind of misunderstanding and not some crazy football fan who has stalked him all the way out here. In his few years on the team, he didn’t have many incidents of weird fan behaviour, but a couple notable moments make him weary of strangers sometimes. Especially, strangers who have broken into his house in the night.
"Please don't kill me!" The stranger squeaks out in a voice that's unnaturally high, clearly afraid.
"I'm not gonna kill you." Oliver answers but he doesn't lower the axe. He tries to keep his voice calm and not alert the potential creep of his fears. "What are you doing here?"
"There was a storm- My ankle and I got lost- I don't know where I am- I'm sorry, please spare me." Percy continues to panic and mumbles out the scared ramblings of a madman. Oliver catches a couple other mumbled comments about being too young to die here.
“Ah, you got injured in the storm and ended up here for safety.” Oliver muses out loud. “No worries, I can patch you up and help you get back to the lodge after the storm clears up.” He tries to offer a bit of kindness despite the strange situation.
“But I simply can’t be here that long! I have to get back. My friend could be out there and I don’t have my laptop!” The redhead protests. “How will I answer my emails!?” The whine in his voice is ridiculous.
“The storm wouldn’t allow for much reception at that lodge anyway and we will just have to hope your friend is fine. You’ll catch your death if you go out in that.” The injured man looks like he wants to protest some more, but just lays back down on the couch he’s once again propped himself up on.
“Ugh, does this place even have any wifi?” The man mutters as he fiddles with his phone. Oliver ignores him in favour of dropping off his stuff; putting away things that need to be in the fridge right away and going to grab the first aid kit. Thankfully, he has a generator, so even though his cell reception and wifi probably aren’t working well, his water and power are still operating for right now at least.
He rejoins the stranger in the living room and kneels before him, gesturing for the man to reveal his ankle. Taking a look at it, he can immediately see a bruise already starting to form as well as some swilling.
“Fuck, I thought it would get better.” Percy mutters.
“It seems like just a sprain. We’ll need to ice it.” Oliver offers up a comforting smile. “The names Oliver by the way, Oliver Wood.” He almost leaves off his last name but decides not to. Most people recognize him from his sports days and ask him a million questions which can be annoying, especially after his injury and retirement. He doesn’t suspect this guy is secretly a stalker. In fact, he gets the feeling this guy has never even seen a sports game. Not that the strangers obvious nerdiness is off-putting. Oliver finds it sort of enduring that this man is so worried about work rather than the fact that he’s snowed-in with a possible strange man.
“Nice to meet you- Ow, be careful. I’m Percy Weasley.” The man—Percy, grimaces at the pain and wiggles around a little too much causing Oliver to be annoyed.
“Hold still, I’m almost done.” The retired footballer continues his work for a while longer before finally finishing. “Would you like some soup? I was planning on having potato and leak soup for dinner tonight with some rolls on the side.”
“Yes, thank you.” Percy doesn’t smile back at Oliver but the mountain man gets the feeling the ginger is happy despite the lack of facial reaction. Odd fellow.
“Alright.” Oliver moves over to the small kitchen off to the left of the sitting room. With its open concept, the kitchen feels more spacious than it is, even with the island that takes up more of the space than Oliver likes. It makes a nice dining table stand-in, though. The colour scheme matches that of the rest of the house with orange cupboards, red kitchen appliances, white and gold accents when necessary. Ages ago when his best friend, Angelina visited, she teased him endlessly for keeping his house the same “ugly” colour scheme that their old high school football team had. He couldn’t help himself; he’s the sentimental sort. Also, he’s always loved the colour orange.
Not long later the soup finishes cooking. Oliver sets up the table for himself, putting out the butter, his bowl of soup and a small plate with his two rolls on it before starting on dishing Percy’s dinner. He makes up a bowl of soup and Percy’s own plate of rolls that Oliver butters for him and sets it on a tray. He brings it over to Percy and places it on the small wooden coffee table in front of him. He pours them both some apple cider in his custom mugs him and Angelina made when she forced him to take a pottery class with her. After helping the man sit up without jostling his foot too much, Oliver offers to grab him anything else.
“Salt, pepper, more butter?”
“Thank you, this is lovely.” Percy mutters to him and begins eating. Oliver leaves him there and moves over to his own meal. At the risk of sounding boastful, he makes a damn good soup. Oliver eats it rather fast and starts the clean up in no time. He starts putting away all the other supplies that were purchased earlier today.
“I have a cot set up in the small room over there.” Oliver gestures to the door next to his own room, after finishing up his task. It’s the room he normally has set up for when his parents or friends come down for a visit. It mostly just holds a small cot and the rest of the space is covered in storage boxes. He doesn’t bother offering some clothes or blankets as it is clear that Percy already helped himself to raiding Oliver’s closet. “You're welcome to set yourself up in there for the duration of you’re stay.”
“Alright, I really appreciate you not kicking me out despite the trespassing.” Oliver laughs in response to Percy’s comment and helps the redhead travel to the room without any hiccups.
“I’m in the room next door. If you need anything, just bother me there. Although, I really recommend against moving too much in the ankle.” Oliver offers up a smile and heads off to check on his goats. With his back door actually opening up directly to the barn, he has easy access to the pens that hold his goats in them. Jerry and Bella loudly say hi to him while Opal heads behind her water trough in fear. He makes sure to pay extra attention to her knowing the storms scare her. The feeding is quick and he doesn’t need to top up any of their waters. With that done, he heads to his bedroom for some much needed sleep.
The cabin’s windows rattle and the shutters shake all throughout the night as the storm rages on, covering the ground in more and more centimetres of snow, burying them in layers that block the exits and will be keeping them stuck here for the next couple days to come.