deep in December, it's nice to remember

[pacificator]

Who: Wynonna Earp, Benton Fraser (& others)

What: embracing the holiday spirit and other December things

When: December

Where: Milton & Lakeside

 

without a hurt the heart is hollow

 

Comments

give me an old fashioned Christmas—

[pacificator]

[ She's always liked giving gifts.

Or she had, anyway, back when she had a family and friends to give gifts to. She's missed two Christmases at home, now, with no way to give Waverly the only gift she thinks her sister would want — her back home again. But somehow, over the last year, she's managed to scrape out something here, for herself. Maybe not a family; maybe more like a pack.

And it's still Christmas, even in a frozen hellhole, so towards the end of December she leaves a few parcels around for people to find. Most gifts are small, scrounged from the outdoors equipment store and around Lakeside or Milton, but she did her best to find items they'd like:

For Holland March, a shirt offering one of his more appreciable services.

For Edward Little, a nice pair of warmly lined, soft leather gloves.

For Kate Marsh, cassette tapes of Adele's 21 and Alanis Morissette's Jagged Little Pill, for her heartbreak era.

For Thomas Jopson, a variety pack box of herbal teas and a jaunty green scarf (he doesn't need it but it'll look cute on him anyway).

For Bigby, a warm toque and a checkerboard (not that she thinks he especially likes checkers, but playing games is one way to spend quality time with a Certain Someone).

For Louis de Pointe du Lac, wine from Lakeside for his store and an IOU for one blood draw from Wynonna.

For John Irving, a leather-bound journal.

For Chloe, fertilizer for the greenhouse and a soft red scarf for her.

For Ruby, a pair of ice skates.

For Mal Jason Todd, a hunting knife.

For Tim Drake (ugh), a pair of binoculars (she knows you like to spyyyyyy).

For Raylan Givens, a decent pocket knife and a tin of mink oil (for boots? holsters? belts? whatever). ]

[guidemyway]

[Ruby had not exactly done a lot of skating back at home. But she was athletic and a pretty quick learner, so the gift gave her something new to do around this place. And finding ways to fight of boredom were pretty important in her book.

Unfortunately or fortunately for Wynonna, Ruby isn't about to let her off the hook either. Which is why one afternoon she's out banging on Wynonna's door.]

Hey! Hey! I'm pretty sure you're in there. You gotta come out and go skating with me!

[pacificator]

[ She is inside, and luckily been drinking some of Tommy's tea instead of the pine wine she might have reached for. Wynonna opens the door with a sudden pull, not thinking about whether it might send Ruby off-balance. ]

What makes you think I picked up skates for myself?

[ She had, but she hasn't even put them on yet. It's been years since she's been ice-skating, and that was on ponds and lakes and in rinks where no giant lake monsters were likely to pop their heads up and demand a toll. ]

[guidemyway]

[It does put her off balance, but only for a second. She nearly tumbles but catches herself quickly.

Give her a second to put on the puppy dog eyes though at the tone of that question.]

Because you wouldn't let your good pal, Ruby Rose go skating all by her lonesome. Would you?

[pacificator]

[ NO, not the puppy dog eyes, Ruby!!

Wynonna meets them, does her best to scrape together a pathetic defense, and slumps in defeat. ]

Yeah, okay. Let me go get them.

But we gotta bring something for the lake monster! [ she calls over her shoulder as she goes to dig through the closet by the door. ]

[lieutenantsteward]

[Since they don't have proper mirrors and Thomas isn't the sort to be vain anyway, he models for Wynonna instead. It's late, and he might have had a little too much pine wine, but it's an occasion to be silly and enjoy the gift she brought him.]

Shall I wear it this way? [He drapes it haphazardly across his neck and strikes a silly pose.]

Or this? [He ties it once more around his neck and looks a bit more serious.]

[pacificator]

[ Wynonna lounges on the bed, sipping her own pine wine and snickering as he vamps for her. The scarf really does look good, though, against his fair skin and dark hair and those piercing eyes. He doesn't need it, but she's glad he's having fun with it. ]

Try flinging it dramatically over your shoulder like you're about to storm off in a huff. I think that'll really be your look.

[ Anything, everything, to keep him laughing and cheerful; the scarf and tea are such small things for someone who's such a huge part of her world. ]

[lieutenantsteward]

[He takes it off and holds it out for her instead.]

Show me.

[This might be an excuse to watch her in action. It might also be an excuse for him to sit on her bed and drink her "wine" before she can do anything about it.]

[pacificator]

[ Wynonna gets off the bed — it's much less than graceful, a clumsy collection of movements — and lands heavily on the floor. Straightening, she takes the scarf and marches to the empty area at the foot of the bed. ]

Watch and learn.

[ She clears her throat and shakes back her hair like a Shakespearean actor about to deliver a monologue, nose in the air, then deliberately puts the scarf against the back of her neck, bringing one arm of it over her shoulder. The other, she flings over the opposite shoulder with enough force that the length of it goes sailing over her shoulder and smacks the wall behind her.

Setting her hands on her hips, she strikes a pose like an actress from the golden days of Hollywood. The effect is mitigated a little by an attack of giggles. ]

See?

Wildcard!

[gildedlife]

[He probably should've planned this whole thing better, but the need to see the rumored bear tracks from himself is pressing, and he won't be able to really think about anything else until he does so. So James has headed immediately to Lakeside, and the trip itself is long and still more exhausting than it should be, with the cold and endless darkness really not helping making the situation any more pleasant.

So by the time he's made it to Lakeside, he has to make a decision about whether to immediately continue on to searching for the tracks, or take a break somewhere. Taking a moment to rest and warm up a little would be the smart thing to do, and James is fully aware of that, but it's still a difficult decision and it's only with great effort and restraint that he does indeed end up seeking out the house he knows belongs to Jopson. Hopefully he won't be too surprised by a knock at the door at whatever hour of day--or night--this is.]

[pacificator]

[ There's a certain booted tread often accompanied by an authoritative knock that she's— not exactly expecting, but wouldn't be surprised to hear, so it's only a moment before Wynonna comes to the door, opening it with an acerbic, teasing greeting that dies on her lips. ]

Oh, good, there's more of you.

[ She'd seen him at the party, hadn't she? Kate had been talking to him at one point or another, but she hasn't actually met the guy yet. Wynonna opens the door a little wider, standing there: the polish she'd had at the party is nowhere to be seen, now. She's back in her skinny, ripped black jeans, a t-shirt tied up at her midriff, studying him for a moment. ]

Hey. You looking for Tommy?

[gildedlife]

[That's... Certainly not the welcome he was expecting, even if he's not entirely shocked to see a woman answer the door; he hadn't thought about the possibility, but he was aware of it, having heard quite a bit from Jopson about her.

And perhaps that's why his attention passes her slightly-scandalous way of wearing her shirt to instead notice the ripped jeans. Hm. Jopson hadn't been lying, not that James had thought he was, but still. Weird.

His gaze returns to hers almost immediately after that, hopefully quickly enough to not be rude. He's dressed much the same as he had been at the party--greatcoat, hat, black pants boots, dark green sweater--though with the coat pulled closed and lapels turned up to help protect from the cold.]

Miss Earp, I presume?

[Who else would it be, especially calling Jopson Tommy, but it's only polite to ask. And to answer her question as well.]

Yes, is he in?

[pacificator]

That's me. Wynonna Earp. And you must be...

[ What was the name? ]

Fitzjames, right?

[ That's the only one around she hasn't met yet, but she's pretty sure Kate had said something about him within her earshot at one point or another. Wynonna shakes her head at him, but steps back to clear the way through the door. Her own steps are softer with the slippers she's wearing; the charms on her two necklaces — one hung with a key and a small string of beads, the other with a gold wedding ring — jingle gently against each other as she moves. ]

Not right now. But you wanna come in? I've got the fire going and I was just warming up some soup. There's plenty.

[gildedlife]

Yes. James Fitzjames.

[She'd offered both names, so only appropriate to do the same. Hearing Jopson isn't here at the moment makes this whole thing slightly awkward, as it's not entirely appropriate to be alone with a young woman in her home, but then again it's not appropriate for her and Jopson to live together, so clearly it isn't something that bothers her. Besides, he's cold, and although his appetite can be somewhat fleeting at best the idea of soup sounds incredibly enticing at the moment.

So he nods, tapping his boots to make sure not to track snow into the house, then accepts the invitation and steps inside.]

Thank you. I've been to Lakeside before, but it's somewhat more difficult a journey at this time of year.

[That's the excuse he's sticking to, anyway.]

It soon will be Christmas, bells will be ringing, blessings are all around

[maintiensledroit]

[ Towards the end of December, Fraser makes his way around the communities of Milton and Lakeside, delivering food and supplies to every Interloper and their new one-time Forest Talker friends. He brings smoked venison and smoked fish, along with burdock, cattail, and mountain sorrel, and offers his help to anyone worried about feeding themselves this winter.

To a few households, he brings other gifts; mostly handmade or fixed up from the condition in which he found them.

For Francis Crozier, a chess set he'd found in Lakeside. A few of the pieces had gone missing, and he'd replaced them with hand-carved versions of knights and rooks and pawns.

For Edward Little, an encyclopedia, published in 1972 but which contains a great deal of information about the world that kept going after the Expedition fell trapped in the ice.

For Kate Marsh, a handmade fur headband and a whittled pendant depicting the archangel Raphael.

For Chloe Frazer, several gardening magazines, older but with a wealth of helpful information.

For Konstantin Veshnyakov, a warm fur hat.

For Bigby Wolf, some beeswax for snow-chapped paws and an extra haunch of venison.

To Svetlana Nazarova, who already holds more of him than he knows how to say, he brings a pair of soft, handmade gloves lined with rabbit fur and a charm, smooth and polished and delicately carved from wood into the shape of a sun, sparkling with a few embedded chips of pyrite.

And one day, while he's in Lakeside, Fraser returns to the lonely lookout tower, climbing all the way to the top. He takes a long moment to look around at the cold and lonely world, then takes out his knife and carefully carves a name as high as he can reach: Edward Kenway. ]

[goingtobeunwell]

[The Crozier-Raju cabin isn’t one hard up for supplies, but Crozier gladly trades some of the arrowroot, chicory, and hawthorn they’ve managed to find out in the big, wide world for some of Fraser’s burdock and sorrel. He’s invited in to sit by the fire and warm his bones with some dandelion tea while Crozier marvels at the chess set.

He holds up the knight and smiles as he turns it over by the light of a lantern.]

Gorgeous work. Stay for a game?

[maintiensledroit]

I'd like that very much, thank you.

[ He'd taken his Stetson off, politely, and now it sits beside him, steaming gently in the heat from the crackling fire as Fraser warms his hands on the mug of tea and watches Crozier study the pieces. ]

Many people seemed to enjoy the gathering for the last sunset. It helps, to bring people together for a celebration, after everything that's happened. It was a good idea.

[goingtobeunwell]

[There are times he wishes he had more of an artistic mindset; he can only dream of being able to create something so lovely. He sets down the piece and rearranges the board carefully, treating it like the treasure that it is.]

Thank you for saying so. Our continued survival is built on community - and there is one here. Small, but fiercely loyal, and worth protecting.

[maintiensledroit]

Many of them did a fine job of protecting the community themselves these past few months.

[ Not all of the Interlopers here are fighters, but he'd seen almost everyone offering what they could, whether meeting the Forest Talkers when they arrived and trying to hold them back or helping the injured.

He leans an elbow on the arm of the chair and rests his chin against his curved index finger, watching Crozier set up the pieces. ]

Sometimes it feels as though trying to find a little normalcy is the last thing I should be trying to do... but even here, little slices of it sneak in. A game with a friend, for instance, or a meal that isn't purely for survival.

[northerndragon]

[Jon hunts and traps, and is usually able to feed the little household with some to spare -- and he isn't the only person in the house trying to do so. Still, gifts are most welcome, and particularly from someone he doesn't know well. He looks pleasantly surprised, accepting it on the front porch of the house.]

You have my thanks. My sister's, too, I am sure, if she hasn't told you herself.

[He will speak for "Lyanna," but not for Randvi. He juggles the gift, tucks it under an arm, offers his other forearm to clasp in greeting.]

I'm Jon Snow.

[maintiensledroit]

Constable Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police.

[ He offers his own introduction while reaching to take the young man's hand, shifting subtly at the last second to clasp his forearm instead when that seems expected, in a variation of the greetings he knows best. ]

And this is Diefenbaker.

[ With a tip of his wide-brimmed hat to the wolf now curiously sniffing at Jon's boots. Diefenbaker is often friendly, but there's a degree of intent behind the wolf's inspection that reminds Fraser of the day they met Bigby Wolf. Curious.

His smile is mild and warm as he nods to the younger man. ]

You're very welcome. Your sister, too, of course. Please give her my best... I enjoyed our meeting before.

[ A long while ago now, but still fresh in his memory. Lyanna is a sweet girl. ]

How have you been settling in, so far?

[northerndragon]

[He allows the wolf to sniff his boots. Not much you can do but let that sort of thing happen, and anyway, Ghost is asleep by the fire at the moment. The wolf seems no threat; a handsome beast.

At that question, Jon's expression becomes more pensive.]

It's been quieter here these last moons. Not like it was at first. [When the Forest Talkers attacked them, he means, and so many had been killed.] But where I come from, if it's dark like this for as long as it has been, it isn't any good.

What are the Royal Canadian Mounted Police? Some sort of knight?

[He looks a little hopeful at the prospect. He knows there are many people here of skill and consequence and honor; if there were not, fewer would have survived in the conditions they live in. And there are people who may suit one of those designations, but not all of them -- all sorts. He does not know as many as he should.]

[balancedlight]

[Sveta is touched by the gifts in more ways than one. She holds the charm close to her chest, along with the gloves, and presses a kiss to his cheek.

She's yet to move out, yet to leave his home, and now she's wondering if she ever really wants to, especially since he's giving out gifts like this. She's warm with it, as if the little sun really could radiate warmth.]

How long have you been thinking of making this, Ben?

[Because certainly it is too much.]

And why do you celebrate Christmas so early!

[maintiensledroit]

Well, it took me a few weeks to find the right piece of wood... and the pyrite... and then it took several more to get the basic shape of it right...

[ She likes it. A swell of relief, followed by a wave of the warmth that always comes when she's nearby, runs through him as she pushes up to kiss his cheek. Ben reaches out to put his arms around her, drawing her near as he smiles down at her. ]

I'm glad you like it.

[ He's far from the jewelry stores of Chicago's finer shopping districts now, and even if he hadn't been, his knowledge regarding jewelry is restricted to everything he's ever learned about metal-smithing and gems, precious metals and the time and skill it takes to become a true artisan. He could identify a ring by the percentage of gold or the style of the setting, but he'd be utterly at arrears trying to pick one out for a woman.

But this: he'd made it as dainty and delicate as he could, poured every ounce of love and devotion into it that he has in him. And it was all worth it. ]

Ah— yes. Well, in Canada — and many other places — we celebrate Christmas on December 25th... in the Gregorian calendar, not the Julian.

Perhaps I should make you something to accompany it for January 7th.

[balancedlight]

[She giggles a little, leaning against him, soaking up the warmth and the ease at which he makes the world just a little brighter for her.]

I know that! But - I should have my own celebration on the 7th.

[She toys with the charm again and sets it down so she can slip on the gloves. They fit perfectly, sliding along her fingers in a great fit.]

Would you celebrate with me?