Hazel - Snowed In (Patreon)

The glass orbs shone in the soft light of the tree. I could see the crackling fire distorted in the colored ornaments, dancing against stained-glass as Hazel found the perfect branch to hang them on. The lobby itself was quiet with only a few patrons lounging near the fire, drinking hot cocoa that I was sure Sawyer spiked with something.

We had come to Sawyer’s Inn for a drink. Planning to sit in the beautiful decorated lounging area and share a quiet moment with each other. The lanterns had opened up, however, and the sky had burst forth with so much snow that no one was going anywhere. Panic ensued for a moment but in the end, there was no better place to be stuck. We had a roaring fire, good food, good friends, and Hazel had a tree to decorate. The tree had fallen over in the shakes from the snow hitting the Inn, the ornaments scattering. It had taken four of us to put back up the giant tree that we had seen Herald so effortlessly put in place a few days prior. Now, Hazel was making it her personal mission to decorate it to perfection.

She looked like a princess tonight. I didn’t think I had ever seen her so beautiful. Dressed in layered skirts of red and deep green with a blouse that looked as if it was made for her curves, she stood, unaware of the way I looked at her, backlit by the warmth of the world around her. 

Coming up behind her, I wrapped my arms around her waist. She subtly pressed herself back against me as she contemplated where to put the next bauble.

“We need to get snowed in more often,” I told her.

She laughed, leaning in the safety of my arms to hang the little red orb. “You going to start making snow dump down on us wherever we go?”

“If it puts this look on your face, then yes.”

I couldn’t describe it. She looked so much happier. Not that Hazel was an unhappy person during most of her days, but there was a joy that radiated from her that I did not often see. It was accompanied by a sigh of peace and contentment that I longed to put on her face over and over again.

“You know, when I was little, this time of year was always strange,” she told me. Her voice was a low murmur that I had to lean towards in order to hear. “We didn’t do much for Yule. I loved the holiday because of all the decorations, but we didn’t do much for Yule itself in our house. Except for Malcolm. He always made sure he had something for me. He tucked away this doll one year that he made. Put it right under my mattress,” she laughed. “It was squished by the time I found it but it was the best present I had ever received. It’s why I like the year, so much. Even little things like that feel so special to me.”

“Squished dolls?” I asked. I hadn’t grown up with these traditions. I hadn’t even been aware of them. Not until I began watching humans and seeing the strange things they partook in throughout the year.

“Squished dolls. Hidden chocolates. People singing in the streets. Lights glittering off the snow. All of it.”  Turning in my arms, she linked her fingers behind my neck. Her hair brushed against my cheek as she leaned in to kiss me softly. “There’s magic this time of year.”

“Don’t let the Velvet Guard hear you say that,” I teased.

“I think they would even be hard-pressed to disagree.” That, and the Velvet Guard, at least a good amount of them, didn’t mess with Hazel. It was doubtful they would ever call her on her magic when she supplied most of the Guard with healing tonics.

She snuggled close to me then, her lips pressing soft kisses against my jaw. My neck. “I know it must seem silly.”

“No,” I told her. “If anything, I envy you. Until we got together, I never had this.”

She jerked back. “What? How? I mean… we celebrate all sorts of holidays. How have you never had any of this before?”

I shrugged. “I just watched it most of the time.”

A determined look came across her face then. One that I usually knew as a sign of danger. Hazel was about to latch onto an idea and no one would be able to take it away from her.

“Come on. I’m going to teach you how to decorate a tree.” There was a box nearby that we had gathered all the ornaments in. A few of them had broke, but I know saw that they were fully formed again. At this point, I couldn’t be sure who in the lobby had magicked them back together. It wasn’t as if anyone was going to own up to it.

“Here,” she said, holding out a brightly colored depiction of a mouse with a red hat. “Place this on the tree.”

I did. Placing it on the first branch I could reach. It sagged under the ornament's weight.

Hazel sighed. “No, honey. You have to pick a sturdier branch. And move it back again. Maybe a little to the right. Not everything should be at your line of sight. We want to create dimension.”

“Isn’t this something little kids do?” It couldn’t possibly be that hard.

“Yes. And then parents move the ornaments when they go to bed. Now try again.”

I tried again.

And again.

She had me move the ornament four times before I looked at her out of the corner of my eye. “This doesn’t feel very magical.” She smacked me with the back of her hand, directing me to yet another ornament placement. When it was finally ‘right’ we stood back, looking at the little mouse, hanging there and grinning back at us as if we had done something marvelous.

“See?” she asked. “Doesn’t it fill you with warmth?”

It didn’t. But looking at Hazel and the way she was beaming, did. For what ever reason, this brought joy to my girl. The perfect placement of a plastic ornament, the snow falling gently outside, and the sound of carolers from somewhere down the street. It all brought that certain sigh to her lips that said she was happy.

“Could you help me place some more?” I asked her.

She jumped in excitement, racing over to grab another ornament. I didn’t fully understand what we were doing, or why she was handing me little silver strands of cheap thread to place over the boughs, but I would do it all every day of the year, if only to see the way she smiled.