Snowfall in Elinden

The day of first snow was a big one in Elinden. Half of the inhabitants of the tree had come from other parts of the world, and not all of them had had snow. Growing up in mostly the rainforest and desert, it had been a long time since Rebecca had seen snow herself. She watched tolerantly and helped Nicole organize snow chaos. She gathered blankets, made cider and hot chocolate, and had soup simmering on the back of the stove. Gloves and heavy cloaks came out of a big chest and were passed out as people ran outside to play. Rebecca stayed back a little, making sure everyone stayed warm. She was starting to set out decorations and put things in order for the frivolities after everyone came in and dried off when Chris came to the door. He poked his head in and glared at her. Cameron was right behind him.

"What are you doing?" he asked, watching her.

"In or out," she commanded, shivering. "It's cold."

"It's not that cold," he persisted.

"Come on, Rebecca," Cameron came all the way in and threw a cloak at her. "Its snow. It's fun. Let's go."

"But its wet," Rebecca protested reluctantly.

"Let's go," Chris said impatiently. 

"Fine," Rebecca laughed and wrapped herself in the cloak. 

Then she was dragged out the door before she could grab anything else warm. A shout went up when everyone realized she'd come to join the fun. It was chaos around Elinden as people scooped up snow and threw it at each other. Rebecca joined in the fun for awhile, but as she grew a little more tired, she stole away with Chris and Cameron. Her head was bare and snow fell all over it and her face, but she didn't care. It was beautiful as they walked through the forest nearby. The snow fell softly and stuck to the trees and the rest of the world. They turned around before too long, cause Rebecca felt the need to get back before too much water was tracked inside the house. She walked a little ahead with Cameron, not noticing that Chris had lagged behind a little until he stopped. He paused at the edge of the treeline and stared at the sky and the trees, a small smile of awe on his face. Rebecca paused and went back to join him, resigning herself to the state of her kitchen. They stood in silence and watched the snow for awhile, enjoying the stillness. 

"I forgot how beautiful it is," Chris said quietly.

"It really is," Rebecca smiled. 

Little kid giddiness filled her as she watched the snow. She wanted to dance and romp around, kicking snow into the air. Instead, she held herself still and just enjoyed the feeling of snow landing on her face. She looked down finally to find Chris looking at her, a bemused smile on his face. She smiled at him and shrugged.

"You're covered in snow," he said, looking her over.

"So are you," Rebecca pointed out.

"No, you're really covered," he shook his head. "I at least have a hat."

"Fair enough," she laughed and then they started walking back to the tree. 

They entered the living room and were greeted by a scene of pure chaos. People were in wet clothes, wrapped in blankets, standing around the fire, and just generally laughing and trying to warm up.

"Alright!" Rebecca said, working now just to rescue her carpet. "Everyone out of the wet coats. Pile all the wet outdoor coats by the door. Then upstairs with the lot of you and into something warm!"

They all started moving, and she collected all of the wet gear relatively quickly. It would be taken upstairs to the small study where she would dry it all off. In the meantime, it all went into the large cast-iron tub, so at least her floor wouldn't be covered in water. Then as people began to come back downstairs, she poured hot drinks into mugs and handed them around, giving the ones who wanted it warm blankets to wrap in as well. 

Chris watched all of these goings on from where he'd stationed himself in the corner. Rebecca brought him over a warm mug of cider and smiled at him. "Go dry off, Chris."

"You first," he said, taking the drink. "It's all taken care of down here. You're a little more wet than me." 

Rebecca sighed and felt her hair. All of the snow had melted now and was wetting all of her clothes.

"Just get warm please," she sighed. "And keep them out of trouble. I'll be right back."

Rebecca ran upstairs and towel dried her hair, pulling it back and out of her face. She changed into a warmer outfit and then came back downstairs in time to find Hector and Chris bringing in a tree. She joined them to supervise, ordering Nicole and Cameron to move furniture out of the way so that they didn't run into anything. The tree was set up in the corner, and Rebecca put towels under it so that all of the remaining snow and water on it didn't make a complete mess on the floor as it dried. 

"What do you think, Becky?" Hector asked, stepping back and giving her a hug while they both looked the tree over.

"I think that both you and Chris need to go change and dry off," she said, hugging him back. She looked up at him with a laugh. "It looks good though, Hector. Thank you."

"Of course," he nodded and shed his jacket, adding it to the pile in the tub. "You were wanting it today anyway."

"The snow just made it perfect," she nodded. "Go change and dry off, then get a mug of hot cider. Dinner isn't for another hour or so."

"Yes ma'am," he nodded and looked at Chris. "Come on. You heard the lady."

Chris shot Rebecca a rebellious look but followed Hector upstairs. Rebecca laughed as they left and then took her mop and cleaned up the last of the puddles of water that were randomly around the room.

"What's the plan with all of this?" Nicole asked her, coming into the kitchen. "Are we decorating?"

"Yes," Rebecca nodded. "I need to get the wet stuff hung up first though. The laundry room fire should do a good enough job of drying it all, but it's just getting it all hung up."

"It'll be taken care of," Nicole nodded. 

She grabbed one of the heavy tub and she left, taking several boys with her. The noise level dropped a bit as they all left. It was quiet for only about ten minutes however, before the elves came in. Rebecca welcomed them, pointed them to the back to dry off their things, and kept working. She laid out cookies on platters, refilled the pot of hot chocolate, and began laying out the decorations on flat surfaces so they could easily be hung up. She would need the taller ones to do all of that. Her halfling height was unfortunate in some circumstances.

"It smells good in here," Hector commented as he came back in the room. 

"I've got stew cooking, cookies baking, and cider warming," Rebecca shrugged. "If it didn't smell good, I'd be concerned."

"It almost always smells good in here," Chris pointed out. "Becky knows what she's doing."

"Thanks," she nodded, not sure how to take that. "Wanna help me start hanging some of these garlands near the ceiling?"

"So any of these?" Hector waved his hand toward the tables.

"Yep. Just leave the glittery ones for Nicole," Rebecca nodded. 

They all worked together to get decorations up. The hilarity only grew as the evening wore on. The boys decorated Cameron like a tree. Nicole covered the house in glitter. Becky laughed as she watched her, quietly orchestrating the entire thing. Julia decorated the tree, making it look pretty and classic amidst all the rest of the chaos. 

Food slowly disappeared as the evening wore on, and cookies became decorated and laid out to dry. Finally the elves left and the boys went upstairs, probably to hide from the chaos. Julia and Nicole also went upstairs to work on making presents, and Rebecca began cleaning up all of the random shrapnel left over from the hijinks. 

"It looks like Christmas in here," Hector said, looking around the room with a smile. "It's pretty."

"You all did a wonderful job," Rebecca said, putting food away and wiping the tables. "I appreciate all the hard work."

"You know what's missing?" Chris asked, pulling a small green plant out from his pocket.

Rebecca's eyes widened as she realized what he was holding. "No," she shook her head. "Let's not breed chaos."

"It might be funny," he said with a sly smile. 

"Absolutely not," Hector ended the conversation. "Not with this group."

"I'll take it down and burn it if you hang it," Rebecca said firmly. "We are not hanging mistletoe up."

"Fine," Chris nodded and looked defeated for a moment and then shrugged. "It does look good in here though. Good job, Becky."

"You all did the work," she said even as she moved around quietly adjusting things and fixing things so that it was all tidied and neat. Her little touches made it look just that much better.

"Right," he rolled his eyes. 

"I'm going to head to bed I think," Hector said after a moment. "It's been getting colder earlier."

"Yeah, and it's snowed," Rebecca nodded, giving him a hug and some warm bricks. "Be safe big brother."

"Of course," he nodded. "Rest well, all." 

Dragon Short Story

 I took an old sketch I posted on here in January and revised it. Here's the completed (ish) short-story.

"Are you sure you want to go in there, Syretia?"  

I gave Aramis a short nod and squared my shoulders. His brown hair fell into his eyes. I'd need to trim that later, if I came back. No. Not if. When. When I came back, I would trim Aramis's hair. And maybe make him shave. He could use another shave before it got too cold and he was inflexible.  

"Syr. Let me rephrase this. There's a dragon in there. The last five people that have gone in were kidnapped and no one has seen them since. I'm not sure what a tiny adventurer can do at this point," his voice was concerned. "Especially one who's main role is a storyteller. 

"Oh right," I checked my satchel to make sure my writing materials were safely stowed. I nodded with a satisfied smile and mentally ran through all of the extra knives I had hidden on my person as well. I set my hand on the pommel of my sword and looked up into his eyes. "Look. I'm going in, we'll have a conversation, I'll come out. No one will have to get hurt." 

"You think a dragon is going to take one look at you and go 'Ah yes, I'll definitely be talking to the short warrior instead of eating her!'" Aramis crossed his arms and moved half a step over so that he was between me and the gaping hole in the mountain. "I thought you were smarter than this, Syretia." 

"It needs to be done, Aramis," I said, hefting my shield onto my arm and picking up a lit lantern with the other. "As I have mentioned ever time we've had this conversation, if you want to come with, you are welcome." 

"No, someone has to be able to come get you if you don't come out," Aramis shook his head with a sigh. "Or go home to tell your family what happened." 

"I thought you weren't going to be the one to tell my brother what I've been up to?" I asked him with a cheeky grin. 

"I never said that," Aramis shook his head. "Be safe, Syretia." 

"Always," I nodded and smiled at him. "I'm off." 

"Right," he stepped out of the way reluctantly and watched me as I walked away.  

I set my face toward the hole in the mountain resolutely and began the trek up to it. The forest all around it had been cut back and dying wildflowers filled the area. The weather was turning colder and they were struggling. I ignored the bad omen that implied, and kept walking. The last thing I noticed before stepping into the cave was that the world was quiet. None of the birds were singing.  

I shivered and lifted my lantern as I walked on. I blinked in confusion as my eyes adjusted to looking at things in a limited scope of light. The cave was immaculate. There was no evidence of spiders. No dripping pools of water or half-formed stalactites. No bones or dead bodies, which I had been warned about in the village below. The creative juices in my brain started to whirl even as I grew more alert. The cave was oddly clean, an illusion of the monstrosity it hid... 

The tunnel split and I paused, taking a small piece of chalk out of one of the pockets of my satchel. I bent on the floor and made a small arrow on the floor pointing down the right passage. Then I continued on in that direction. The ceiling began to slope down toward the floor at a rapid rate, and I was suddenly thankful I was so small. If Aramis had been with me, he would be complaining about hitting his head on the ceiling. The walls closed in as well, and I moved slower, taking my time to squeeze through small crevices and cracks. I left my shield behind at another junction, when it became clear that the tunnels were too small for me to get through. I vaguely wondered if I was going the wrong way, but pushed the thought away. I had time to find something still, and rumor had it you should always go right when looking for a dragon's cave. 

I paused as the cave tunnel opened up into a cavern in front of me. I blinked in surprise at the bright warm glow of the space. It was oddly full of people. Not that there were many, only about six. But that was still six more than I had been expecting, and after what had felt like far too long wandering through an empty cave, it seemed like a crowd. The floor of the cavern was tiled with a beautiful mosaic, and odd tapestries hung from some of the walls. What looked like a chandelier hung from the ceiling. The monster's lair was mesmerizing and opulent, reminiscent of a grand castle.  

One woman was at an easel in one corner, studying a painting as if wondering how on earth she could fix it. I knew the look. I'd studied my writing that way on many an occaision. A young lad sat at a spinning will, spinning hay into gold. I blinked in surprise. No, that couldn't be right. Only one man could spin straw into gold, and he was my friend. But there it was. A girl in a red dress was hummnig to herself as she danced across the floor, light on her feet. Her partner was a strong older gentleman, easily lifting her up over his head. One other man was in what could only be a kitchen, and that is a loose word for it, making some kind of food. Artisans worked in every space, perfecting their work. The beauty filling the room could have only come from them. 

What truly caught my attention, however, was the young man visiting each person, adjusting a posture here, pointing out the problem there. He tasted whatever was being cooked, laughing with its maker. He praised the boy at the wheel, mentioning something about golden cloaks being the most durable against the elements. I watched from the doorway in confusion, hovering in the doorway, suddenly quite unsure of myself. I longed to be inside the room, longed to be a part of the magic of that world. And yet...and yet there was a nagging worry I didn't quite belong. Some tiny part in the back of my mind whispered that it was an enchantment, that I was not creative enough, not bold enough to belong with the group in the room.  

The young man spotted me standing there, with my sword strapped to one half of my belt, and my writing accoutrements to the other. He smiled and crossed the room to me, not disturbing anyone else.  

"Are you lost?" his voice held the roar of a fire. 

"N-no," I shook my head and steeled my spine. "Or at least, I don't think so. I came to see the dragon." 

"Ah," he nodded, glancing at my sword again. His gaze traveled from the top of my head to the soles of my feet, taking in every inch of me. I got the sense he knew exactly where all of my hidden weapons were. "Well. Can I interest you in a mug of hot cider?" 

I warily nodded, following him to an empty table. I watched him as he waited on me, holding my chair like a gentleman. His movements bespoke of practiced grace. I was puzzled, and absently pulled out my journal, scribbling it all out, getting my thoughts onto paper. I am surrounded by geniuses and artists and magicians, with one man able to help them all. One man orchestrating it all, pushing them in their fields so they grow, and yet their friend. One mesmerizing being to help them succeed.  

"So which is mightier then? The pen or the sword?" the young man set down a mug in front of me. His tone had changed and sounded like pebbles running over each other. "As I can see you use both." 

"The pen will always be my first choice," I said slowly. "But in some cases, the sword is my only recourse." 

"Wise woman," he nodded, taking a sip of cider. "So. The dragon." 

"Yes," I nodded, eyeing my mug warily. It wasn't completely unheard of for cider to bear enchantment.  

"Your cider is untouched," 

I took a tiny sip, silencing the voice of Aramis screaming at me in my head. It was delicious, but it burned on its way down my throat. I didn't know what to think of that. 

"Why do you wish to see the dragon?" 

"The dragon, it is said, has the ability to amplify the gifts and abilities of anyone who bears one of his scales," I said slowly. 

"And you wish for a scale? You wish to challenge the beast, and slay it for its magic?" Fire rose in the young man's eyes. Fury hid there, but I could see resignation and a tiredness in his posture that hadn't been there before. 

"No," I shook my head. "Well. I would love a scale if he were to give me one, but I wouldn't slay him for it." 

His eyebrows raised and I saw tiny scales poking out from under the hair covering his forehead. I bit back a smile.  

"The sword?" 

"Insurance," I shook my head. "Sometimes I have no other choice. It is not wise for a woman to go around unarmed." 

"The world is still unforgiving then," the young man sighed, his voice changing to the quiet crackling of a campfire. "Then what do you wish from the dragon?" 

"I wanted to know why none of the five had returned," I waved my hand around me. "Although I see why, now. And I wanted his story. I wanted to know why he came here, and if the rumors were true. I wanted to ask for his wisdom, and I wanted to write it all down so it wouldn't be lost."  

"You, miss, are very curious," the young man told me. His tone was almost conversational, and I could tell that while I interested him, he wouldn't be talking to me. I played my trump card. 

"And you, sir, are very tired," I said gently. "Or perhaps I should call you Lord Dragon?" 

The fire in his eyes burned red and a puff of smoke squeezed between his lips. he seemed unaware. "How did you know?" his voice became the sound of a forest fire, raging, cracking, and snapping. 

"Your eyes betray everything," I took another sip of my cider, growing bolder. "You have skills with everything in this room, and everyone in here blossoms under your tutelage. And, well. You have scales hiding just under the hair on your forehead." 

"Well spotted," the dragon nodded, for so he was. "Shall you prepare yourself for the story, then? For it is a long one." 

I smiled and pulled out the fresh notebook I had prepared for this occasion. Oh, how I would enjoy making Aramis eat his words later. My plan had worked, without the slightest hint of danger at all.