#Prudence → It's beautiful and so are you [visage]

[unluckyborn]

Character Tag Drop → Prudence Winslow

[astoldbymarie]

Character Tag Drop → Prudence Winslow

[a-not-so-clean-blog]

Ratonhnhaké:ton x irish/native M reader (commission)

1050 words 🤍

You always looked up to Ratonhnhaké:ton, both physically and admirably. I mean what more could someone want? Tall, handsome, strong, protective, and sharp as a coyote. He was everything you dreamed of and more, and despite only knowing him for a few mere months he already occupied your dreams nearly nightly. Even your waking hours weren't immune to his visage in your wandering imagination during a hard days work on the homestead.

While Warren and Prudence took care of the farm and the livestock your job was to care for all the working animals. Train the guardian dogs, tend to the horses and plowing steer, even care for the sole messenger hawk that Achilles has. It's not particularly difficult but it does have you traveling around to different parts of the homestead all day. Plenty of travel means plenty of time to wistfully daydream about his beautiful black hair, strong build, and sunkissed skin. You could imagine him so well it felt like you could reach out and touch him.

“Good afternoon (Y/N).” Ratonhnhaké:tons voice ripped your attention from your imaginary paramore to the genuine article.

“Oh! Good afternoon Ratonhnhaké:ton!” You quickly reply, slightly startled by your lack of awareness. You looked down at him as you're perched on your horse. He looked irritated. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine. The mission was a success at least.”

“You sure?”

“It's not a big deal.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his beaded armband, or at least what was left of it. The threads were cut and a good chunk of the beads were missing completely, the rest was barely holding together because of the weaving. “It got cut in a fight.”

“May I?” You held your hand out to Ratonhnhaké:ton and after a moment of hesitation he neatly dropped the broken beadwork into your palm.

“Do what you want with it. I can not mend it and it's too much trouble to return to my village to get it fixed.” Although his expression remains neutral there was a hint of sorrow in his voice. Knowing his history it wouldn't surprise you if whoever made the band has passed. It felt like a dart to the heart thinking about it, but you had an idea.

“When are you leaving the homestead again?”

“A few days at most. Why?”

“Come by my house tomorrow night if you have time. I'll make you a good meal before you go.” You smiled warmly and he simply nodded.

“If I am still here I will.” It was rare for him to actually accept any invitation from anyone on the homestead, but you had a good feeling about this time. You waved to each other as he began walking back to the manner and you rode to Warren's farm.

One day later and to your excitement there was a knock at the door. You almost tripped at you rushed to answer.

“Ratonhnhaké:ton, welcome!” You open the door and beckon him to come in.

“Thank you for having me.” He came in and stood in the foyer awkwardly, something clearly on his mind.

“It's my pleasure, really.” You tilt your head a little. “You look like you want to ask something though?” He stared at you for a long moment before responding.

“Why do you call me that.” His voice was quiet, almost cautious.

“Call you what? Ratonhnhaké:ton? Oh no, did I pronounce it wrong, I'm sorry!” He shook his head before you could continue.

“It's not that, it's just… you know you are the only one on the homestead that calls me by my name. Why? Why not call me Connor like everyone else?”

“Ratonhnhaké:ton is a good name. It would be a shame not to use it. I can stop if it makes you uncomfortable though.” In all honesty you liked being the only one to use his real name. It made you feel special, like you knew a piece of him that others didn't.

“...Do as you wish. I was just curious.” A slight tint of red kissed the tips of his ears. It was cute and made you smile.

“Oh! I have something for you!” You excitedly ran to the other room. Ratonhnhaké:ton followed but kept some distance between you two. A habit he picked up because people found his stature intimidating.

Grabbing something small off your workbench you returned and confidently closed the distance between you two. “Hold out your hand.” He complied and held out his hand with his palm upwards, his eyes widening when a familiar texture fell upon his fingers. There lies his beaded armband fully restored. His disbelief was clear but so was his gratitude.

“How did you do this?” He stared at the beads as he rolled them between his fingers. He could tell which ones were new but the color difference was minimal, almost undetectable.

“My great grandfather was native and he taught me when I was very young.” You smile fondly of the memories.

“You are native?” His eyes shifted from the armband to you.

You couldn't help but laugh at his question. Not that he was wrong to ask given your fair complexion, but you simply found it humorous he still thought he was the only native on the homestead. “I am. I know it's difficult to tell by looking at me but that is because the rest of my blood is Irish.”

“I didn't know.” He stared at the beadwork in his hand before reattaching it to his coat. “Thank you. This means a lot.”

Your smile spreads from ear to ear. “I'm happy I could help!” You shift your weight as a way to fidget. “I know you don't stay for long but will you stay for dinner? I made stew.”

“I would like that.” His expression softened slightly, he looks almost relieved. It's hard to imagine someone so big could be scared of anything, but as his eyes softened you realize that sometimes fear can take many faces and forms. You couldn't help but wonder if you could alleviate some of his anxieties, or if he would even let you. Perhaps with time, but for now you are content just being a little closer to him.

[shoreabove-moved]

prudence hall tag drop.

[crescntnight]

prudence tag drop.

𝐩𝐡. greet the brand new day. ────── prudence visage.

𝐩𝐡. come out to play. ────── prudence interaction.

𝐩𝐡. the clouds will be a daisy chain. ────── prudence aesthetic.

𝐩𝐡. it’s beautiful and so are you. ────── prudence relates.

𝐩𝐡. i feel happy inside. ────── prudence likes.

𝐩𝐡. open up your eyes. ────── prudence inspo.

𝐩𝐡. they stumble blindly as they make their way. ────── prudence: canon.

𝐩𝐡. i’m just going nowhere faster. ────── prudence: modern.

𝐩𝐡. don’t you know it’s gonna be alright. ────── prudence feat. jude.

𝐩𝐡. who you are defines what you do. ────── prudence feat. max.

𝐩��. take these broken wings and learn to fly. ────── prudence feat. lucy.

𝐩𝐡. that’s me; out of bounds. ────── prudence feat. sadie.

𝐩𝐡. got to be good looking ‘cause he’s so hard to see. ────── prudence feat. jojo.

[tragedyfamily]

TAG DROP 002: PRUDENCE WINSLOW

[foxofthedesert]

A brief RedQueen take on Hades/Persephone

For @loudestdork in response to this incredible post.  It’s your fault I’m still up at 6 am.  

Also, I haven’t even proofread this, so please blame any errors or general crappiness in quality on either mental fatigue or sleepless mania.  :)  

Slowly Regina rises from her chilly onyx throne.  The flickering embers stirring back to life within her breast had compelled her to rise, and as they burst once more into flame, the line of silver candelabras begin to glow with an intensity that hurts her eyes. Darkness recedes as light suffuses the chamber, bathing her in warmth that steals her breath away.

Equal measures of excitement and dread war within soul, for within the hour she will leave this place for the surface.  

Eyes slipping shut, she conjures up an image to quell her fears – it is one she often draws upon whenever the tenacious, insidious claws of despair dig into her psyche during the interminable, desolate months of spring and summer.  Rich chestnut hair cascades in waves and curls over shapely shoulders and down a finely arched back.  Pale skin lacking scar or blemish, smooth to the touch like the silk produced by Minerva's loom and sweet as honey to the taste, bared to her greedy hands and eyes.  Sea green irises merry with youth and vitality and unbridled curiosity that will burn a brilliant amber when angered or aroused and fade into sickly blue while in the throes of anguish.  A frame to rival Diana; a visage more comely than Venus; and a smile and laugh even brighter than those of Apollo and Laetitia that alone is capable of banishing the perpetual gloom that drapes the realm of the dead in a curtain of despair; all belonging to the only person in all of existence that truly matters to Regina anymore.  

Soon, so very soon, a voice more beautiful than any of the nine Muses will caress her longing ears.  She recalls in vivid detail how it sounded upon the first such reunion.

“Oh!  How dreary you have allowed our home to become in my absence,” Ruby (for that is the chosen name of Regina’s beloved) had trilled, an effective chastisement delivered in tones so affectionate and gentle that even the Goddess of the Dead cannot summon a word to speak in her own defense.  “I shall spend a week at the very least removing cobwebs and dust, no to mention relocating all of the industrious little creatures that have taken up residence in the shadows. Really, love, why must you continually refuse to utilize the resources at your disposal?  Sydney is a splendid caretaker, if not an incorrigible gossip, and Maleficent a wise and capable counselor.  How many times must I come back home to an unfit abode before you take my suggestions to heart?  Honestly, your continued stubbornness on this issue is most disappointing!”

“Bah!  Due caution would appear as stubbornness to your disgustingly naive notion that redemption is possible for those whose misdeeds are as numerous and grievous as mine,” Regina had replied, nose curling in rebellious distaste at any suggestion she be so lazy – or efficient depending upon perspectives not her own clearly superior one – delegate the tasks laid upon her by laws more ancient than her fellow deities or the beastly titans who birthed them.  

Oh how Ruby had bristled at that well-aimed dart. “Your sarcasm is not appreciated.  Nor is your conclusion.  I do not believe it is naive to hope for those who have made mistakes so long as they are capable of remorse.  I would not be here otherwise.”

“Perhaps that is your great error.  You have blinded yourself with optimism to the truth that I am indeed beyond hope and have doomed yourself to an eternity of sorrow by consequence.”

Regina knows how best to hurt with her words.  The skill is, according to her peers, the one most responsible for her being an outcast.  Her sister had offered an olive branch after their cataclysmic war, but she had refused it in a caustic speech that is recited in worshipful devotion by her Terran acolytes to this day.  

Words are a weapon to be used with precision, their mother had taught them as youths just blooming into their cosmic powers, for they are every bit as devastating as fire or lightning.

When she was banished from Olympos and cast into Dīs upon a searing bolt a lightning, Regina was robbed of her fire.  But they could not take her words, and she has used them ever since in both condemnation and reward to pass judgment upon those who arrive upon her shores.  That Ruby is too commonly a target for her verbal pila is a stain upon her conscience that irritates her far more than it should considering who she is and what she has done.  

Life would be much simpler the six months per annum they are together if she could learn to hold her barbed tongue in check, but Regina has never been one for simple.  And so they are often at odds over the banal.  They will quarrel over contentious adjudications. They will spend hours in mutually stubborn silence while offended or emotionally injured. They will disagree on meals, spar over Olympian philosophy and art and politics, and speak to one another in outbursts of raw angry passion wielding razor sharp phrases which leave wounds so deep as to be nearly visible.  

But there is also love between them.  Immeasurable love.  Love that time and distance cannot erase when they are forced apart for half the year.  Love that is blind to faults and annoyances, that weathers storms of rage and frustration and misunderstanding, and that forgives trespasses and inspires self-improvement however glacially incremental.  A love that twines their immortal essences together so tightly that they share a dreamscape while sleeping, and that they have no use for repose is of no consequence when the aching of loneliness or separation becomes unbearable. 

It is that boundless, magical, incomprehensible love which revived Regina’s moribund heart and made her start to care again.  For that reason she is grateful beyond description on most days and on her worst regretful she ever laid eyes upon the gorgeous creature who single-handedly turned her entire world upside down.

“If I am blind to love you, then may I never see again,” Ruby had said, those enchanting eyes glimmering so brightly in the faint light that the individual strands of her irises were visible. “And if this is to be my doom as you say, then I accept it with open arms, for it shall be one of bountiful joy. The only sorrow for me will come when we are again forced to part.  I spent the past six months yearning for you just as I shall the next six when our bell proclaims the arrival of spring.”

“Well, if not blind then you are certainly foolish,” Regina said, throat choked with so much feeling that she felt as though she might suffocate.

Ruby had merely smiled in that way only she could, playful and loving and sincere all at once.  “I am guilty as charged of being a fool, my Queen.  Your fool.”

Unable to help herself, Regina felt her lips curl up at the edges.  “Well, we cannot all be perfect.  Not even the celebrated daughter of Ceres Eugenia, it appears.” So as to change the reverse of their conversation back toward less emotionally distressful directions, she had cleared her throat and then returned to the original topic. “As for your so-called suggestion: it is, quite frankly, absurd. One of the two miserable wretches you mentioned earlier is a driveling sycophant while the other is a maudlin dragoness whose fits of fire-breathing mania lead me question my decision to retain her.  No doubt they both would abuse such positions to undermine my authority.  Prudence would dictate that I should cast them both into Tartarus and be done with their annoyances!”  

Ruby’s gasp of affront was so dramatic that it echoed through the cavernous chamber and caused the nearest candle flames to flicker.  

“Morta Plutonia Regina!  One of these days I will finally teach you how to be nice to those in your charge, especially those who would call you their friend.”

Regina winced as she always does at her given name and returned the favor in kind with as much snark as she possibly could.

“I need no friends, Proserpina Libera,” she said.  “I have the dead to keep me company.”

The story of their first meeting, and incidentally how Proserpina Libera became Ruby, then begins to play through Regina’s mind.  Before long, she becomes so lost in the memory that time ceases to have any meaning whatsoever.

Her musings last until a ghostly bell rings in the distance.  She emerges from wistful recollection to mournful chiming accompanied by plaintive voices singing an announcement that summer has ended and autumn has begun.  

Once, there was no bell to quarterly drone and chant in languid harmony with the turning of seasons.  Once, she was painfully alone amongst a swelling sea of souls thrust cruelly into her charge.  Once, she was content to nurse her hatred of her elder sibling and ruler of Olympos whose envious betrayal resulted in Regina’s current circumstance, and she had bent that hatred and bitterness toward piling ever-more layers of jagged ice upon the impenetrable fortress that was her irreparably damaged heart.  Once, there had been no evidence of life at all in this place that she called home save the frost of her breath and tortured moaning of the damned that plagued her every waking hour. Once, she had believed herself incapable of love and took great comfort in that belief.

But that was before her beloved rosa rubra strolled through the forest she was traversing in secret, and left upon every inch of earth those bare feet trod over a carpet of lush red roses.

The surface back then felt much further away, too far for Regina’s overtaxed attention to be concerned with happenings above yet too near to ever escape hope of being freed from her endless confinement.  The only reason she kept up with current events was to better evaluate the lives of those she was constrained by unbreakable law to judge.  One day she learned of a scandal detailing how her sister had become impregnated by a mortal man through spurious means and birthed a daughter who was a gifted huntress that won the heart of a princess. Knowing that her unforgivably wicked sibling Zelena would be unable to resist interfering, she arranged a brief excursion to terra firma. It had taken countless hours of planning and work, but she had managed to slip through an isolated section of the great Gates of Dīs while Cerberus was distracted (the brutish if not mildly adorable mongrel had still been hopelessly under the thrall of her sister, an enchantment that Ruby was blessedly able to break) and emerge in the land of the living for the first time in millennia.

At first Regina had been unable to do much more than marvel at the scenery.  For thousands of years she had been trapped in a world of darkness that smelled and sounded and felt like death.  But the world above was teeming with life, even the air smelled as though it were animate, and the overload of so much sensory input had nearly paralyzed her. Once she recovered, she began picking her way through the forest by foot as using her powers to travel would have alerted the Olympians that she was no longer present at her station.

About halfway through the journey, she was stopped cold by the sound of singing. That angelic verse was carried upon the wings of a gentle breeze straight through the mountainous walls of ice surrounding her heart. In moments so swift she was helpless to react, she physically felt her defenses shatter and her resolve to remain aloof from all emotion crumble.  A single verse of that song had accomplished what the assembled armies of Olympos could not upon the bloody plains of Thessaly, a verse that she would eventually decree be recited each year by siren spirits upon the autumnal equinox.  She was so mesmerized by the soft melodic quality of the singer’s voice that she would not know the rest of the song until Ruby performed it much later.

Recklessly, like a starving lion desperately trailing its only hope for survival, Regina followed the song to the edge of a tiny clearing.  And then Regina saw her.  In the midst, haloed by Apollo’s rays, she danced and sang as birds joined in with the melody and branches swayed hypnotically to the rhythm.  Clad in a flowing crimson-trimmed dress, draped by a lavish red cloak, crowned by a wreath of fresh flowers with roses crawling up her bare arms; her expression open in untold wonderment, cheeks ruddy with the exhilaration of living; she was – and still is – the very epitome of beauty, and grace, and charm, and hope, and joy.  Save for the wedding night, no sight before or since has ever rivaled that first glimpse of embodied perfection.

A deafening rumble shakes the cavernous hall as the earth above lazily yawns as if arising from a seasonal slumber, snatching Regina’s focus away from that first fateful meeting.  From above, rubble rains down as mote and stone, and the prevailing sunlight filtering through the haze casts a diluted shadow across the hall.

She turns her eyes up, squinting to mitigate the intense pain of photo-sensitivity, and watches impassively as the detritus begins to mold itself into a great spiral staircase.  One by one the steps arrange themselves, each uniform in shape and perfectly spaced out as she had commanded centuries ago via laborious incantation, until they have spanned from polished obsidian floors to vaulted granite ceiling.  

With measured steps she ascends the newly formed stairway, her raven-down cloak billowing behind her.  She holds her head high, proud and regale, as she ascends.  Eager anticipation has caused her heart to thunder and her limbs to buzz with energy, but she is still a Queen.  Always a Queen.

The afternoon sun hangs low on the horizon, her cousin having turned his attentions elsewhere in the world, and the air is crisp and clean.  Death has yet to arrive in earnest, the foliage of the forest remains mostly verdant, but Regina can feel it approaching from every angle, a stooping, skulking specter whose insatiable hunger is gnawing to the point of agony.  For a split second she falters, inundated by the cloying scent of nascent decay which beckons her to turn heel and descend into the realm where such monsters as herself belong.

And then she hears it, the introductory lines of a new song written solely for her:

My love, my love, to thee I call;

My love, the fairest of them all

With raven’s hair and silken skin.

I come at last to thee again!

As if an insect brushed away from one’s collar, death recedes into the back of her consciousness so that life can inhabit the space it has abandoned.  Life that reverently whispers her name into the crook of her neck and the flesh of her shoulder, that holds her hand and brushes away the tears that began to fall again after infusing her with vitality she had never before experienced, and that loves her beyond any logical explanation and refuses to ever give up on her. Life that has a name, Ruby, and is currently waiting for her in meadow they both hold so dear.

Squaring her shoulders, Regina strides forward with renewed strength.  She has a reunion to attend that she has been awaiting for six very long months.  Until Ruby points it out, she will not even realize she is smiling.  

[ladyspellwood]

A Spellwood Holiday

AU obviously.

Zelda circled the grade on her last exam and filed it away in her desk. As she closed the drawer, she breathed a sigh of relief. The term was finally over. Outside her window snow had begun to fall and she pulled on her jacket, not looking forward to the walk home. Taking her bag, she walked out and locked her office. The other professors’ offices were already dark, they must have all elected to take their grading home with them. Before she stepped out into the cold, she passed the High Priest’s door where light still filtered out through the stained glass.

She paused and decided to knock. A gruff, “Come in” reached her and she opened the door.

When she stepped inside, he looked up from packing his briefcase. “Sister Zelda.” He smiled slightly in greeting.

“No need to bother with that. We are the last ones here.” His smile broadened.

“In that case, can I offer you a drink?”

“I shouldn’t, I need to get back to the mortuary.” His face fell before she continued, “But I will let you walk me home.”

“Let me?” She smirked and nodded. Abandoning his briefcase, he stepped out from behind his desk and walked up to her, so close she thought he might pull her to him. “Or we could go to my place. I could cook dinner…” he offered suggestively.

She raised a brow and hid a knowing smile.

“The weather is only getting worse and my house is closer. We could wait out the storm and after I promise to make sure you arrive home safely.” He suggested it innocently enough but she knew better. She told herself she needed to go home but when he looked at her like that, he was hard to refuse. Not to mention she no longer wanted to. He was an excellent cook and a night with him sounded far more appealing than listening to Sabrina and Ambrose talk about the party happening later that evening.

She found herself returning his smile and agreeing. Besides they’d be pulled apart over for the holidays and wouldn’t have time to see one another. If she wasn’t going to see him until school resumed in the new year she might as well take the opportunity now.

“Let me call Hilda.” She turned to the mirror in his office and licked her finger.

---

Hilda wiped her hands on her apron before she sat down in front of the mirror showing her sister’s visage.

“Hilda, I am going to be late at the Academy. I want to finish grading my final exams before the holiday.” Hilda nodded but could see her sister was most definitely not in her own office. Though she recognized the High Priest’s desk, she didn’t mention it and played dumb.

“Of course. How, um, how late will you be?” Zelda glanced behind her and Hilda swallowed a knowing smile.

“I am not sure. Probably late.” Hilda nodded.

“I will save you a plate then.” Ambrose wandered into the kitchen and raised a brow when he saw Zelda still was not home despite the advancing hour.

“Thank you, sister,” she muttered hurriedly before ending the call. Ambrose walked up to his aunt.

“Where’s Aunt Z, Auntie?” Unsure how she wanted to answer the question she bit at her lip.

“She’s, uh, grading papers.” He raised a brow and stole an apple out of a bowl on the counter.

“Aunt Zee isn’t one to take long grading, certainly not before Yule…” he led, hoping his aunt would buckle. Instead, she stood and resumed chopping vegetables. He leaned on the counter in front of her.

“She’s going home with Blackwood, isn’t she?” Hilda looked up sharply and he broke into a wide smile.

“She is, isn’t she?” Instead of answering him, she turned to add the veggies into a steaming pot. He started laughing and walked out of the kitchen.

---

After she hung up on her sister, she turned back to Faustus who did his best to look like he hadn’t been listening to the entire conversation by flicking through a large book on his desk.

“Everything all right at home?” She rolled her eyes at his antics.

“Yes, it seems I am off the hook. Ready?” He flipped the book shut and put on his coat.

As they left the Academy thick fluffy snowflakes kissed at her cheeks and she smiled at the blanket of white already covering the ground. She loved winter and the woods were breathtaking with all the trees laden with snow. He had been right though; the snow was getting heavier. When she looked up from admiring the scene around them, she caught him watching her with a soft smile on his lips.

He couldn’t help it she looked beautiful. Her face had practically lit up the second they stepped outside. Snowflakes dotted her hair and the cold made her cheeks rosy.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.” Her eyes narrowed but she didn’t press it. The wind picked up around them, tugging at her skirt and his scarf. She shivered and he was about to offer her his coat when she took his arm and tucked against him for warmth.

Secretly pleased she’d reached for him, he steadied her as they sidestepped a large snowdrift on the path. Despite the hushed quiet of the woods, he didn’t hear her ask him a question, still too focused on having her so near.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” He asked once he realized she was waiting for an answer.

“Your final exams. Did you finish grading them?”

He nodded. “I finished them just before you walked in.” He turned them down the path that led to his house and slowed their pace, knowing he would have a limited amount of time with her before she returned to her family and he didn’t want to squander it.

Despite the weather, he enjoyed their walk. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d done this. If they ever had it would have been when they were at the Academy centuries ago. The temperature dropped noticeably and she pulled in tighter to him. Normally she would rather suffer the cold than cozy up to him for warmth, but he wasn’t complaining. She smiled up at him as he tightened his arm around her.

He still wondered how he’d gotten lucky enough to have her walk back into his life.

“Do you have any plans for the break?”

“As usual most of my holiday will be taken up by preparations for the Yule mass and coven celebrations.” Yule was one of his favorite holidays, however, it was also one of the busiest times of the year. “Although Prudence is coming to stay with me this year.”

After the death of his wife and their unborn children, he had been trying to slowly make amends with Prudence now that she knew he was her father. In the year since Constance passed, things had improved but this would be the longest time she had been at the manor with him. He had half a mind to ask Zelda for her advice on having a teenager in the house but decided against it.

Though surprised, she squeezed his arm and smiled at him, glad he was still making an effort with his daughter.

“You know, she earned the highest grade in the class on my Latin exam this term.” Prudence had quickly become one of Zelda’s top students.

He found some pleasure in hearing about his daughter’s success. “Am I detecting a favorite, Professor Spellman?”

“She earned the grade herself, but she is bright and I enjoyed having her in class. She could go far in linguistics if she wanted to.” He filed that information away to talk to Prudence about it over the break. It would at least be something they could find common ground on. He might even let her assist with the Yule sermon if she wanted to put some of her Latin to work.

“Only kidding Zee. But it is good to hear.” Though he already knew what the answer would be he asked, “Will the Spellmans be celebrating Yule with the coven this year?”

“Unlikely,” she sighed. She missed Yule, a proper Yule. One spent with the coven but she wouldn’t celebrate Yule without Sabrina. These days it felt like the Spellmans were never all together as a family, but Yule meant everyone would be home. As much as she missed a proper witch Yule, she wouldn’t trade time with her family.

Despite knowing that would be her answer, he still felt disappointed. He knew why, with Hilda excommunicated, Sabrina’s irritating habit of shirking tradition, and with Ambrose still limited with where he could travel to, Zelda would have to leave her family behind to come to the Church of Night’s festivities. Still, he missed the days of seeing her there.

One of the great oaks above them released its burden of snow and ripped him out of his memories of Yuletides past. Zelda shrieked and dropped his arm. They both looked up at the offending tree and then back at one another, simultaneously bursting into laughter at the sight of each other covered in snow. She shook the snow out of her hair before coming to brush the snow off his shoulders. When she ran her fingers through his hair to get the last of the snow, some of it fell down his collar and he jumped out of her reach. While he tried to get the ice off his neck, she struggled to not laugh. He shook his head but it was hard to be stern seeing her so unreserved and dare he say happy.

“I’m sorry,” she finally got out.

“You are not,” he said but still wrapped an arm around her, she moved even closer to him as they started to walk again. She rested her cheek on his shoulder as his house came into view. No longer under the shelter of the trees, the wind picked up and whipped at her legs and hair. She untangled herself from him to catch her skirt as the wind lifted it.

“Easy there, Marilyn,” he chuckled. She glared at him while she tamed her dress but lost it and started laughing as well. She took his hand as they walked up the steps to his door. Another gust of wind sent snowflakes billowing around them and they hurried into the house, forcing the door shut against the wind and snow.

While the flurries that followed them in settled, she ran her hand through her hair in an attempt to look presentable again. She exhaled heavily after their dash to the door but smiled up at him, trying to remember the last time she’d genuinely laughed that much.

He closed the distance between them and kissed her. She cupped his face in her hands and deepened the kiss. When he finally ended it, she stayed pressed against him.

“Your rule of not seeing or kissing you at school is torturous, my dear.” She broke off from him and started to unbutton her coat.

“The last thing I need is a student or another professor catching us.” He took the fur off her shoulders and hung it up before starting on his coat.

“I’m their High Priest. There isn’t anything they can do about it.”

“Not for you no. For me I will get called a whore and everyone will talk about how I slept my way into a job.”

“That is ridiculous. You were a professor long before we started… whatever this is.” She hung up her coat and leaned against the wall.

“Gossip rarely cares about the truth.” He rolled his eyes as he hung his cape up beside hers and followed her into the kitchen to start cooking.

---

After they finished with dinner they retired to his parlor, outside of the large windows heavy snow continued to fall. She stood at the window looking out watching it while he poured her a drink, already dreading the trip home.

“We might get snowed in,” he commented as he walked up and held out a glass of bourbon for her.

“I will have to make it home one way or another.” He took a sip to hide his frown. A fire crackled in the hearth and suddenly cold she moved over to the settee with her drink. He followed her and it didn’t take long for her to get comfortable against him.

They talked over the end of the term and some of the worst term papers they’d been forced to read. At last, she finished her drink and set the empty glass aside as she moved from her perch.

“I should head home.” He put a hand on her thigh.

“At least let me finish my drink before you go.” She looked back at him before she settled back against him.

“Fine but after I really need to get back to my family.”

He put his hand around her and breathed in the faint scent of her perfume. Truthfully it wasn’t far from his house to hers but it did require a walk through the woods and she wasn’t dressed for it. While he could offer to drive her home, he’d prefer it if she just stayed with him tonight. There was no better way to start the holiday in his mind.

His warm embrace only made the thought of going outside worse, and she knew if he kept this up, she wouldn’t be willing to face the cold outside. She hazarded a glance towards the windows where the flakes hadn’t let up. There would be several inches of snow waiting for her. His arm around her wandered lower.

“Faustus, I can’t.”

“You can leave them to their own devices for one night.”

“I told them I was grading papers, not going home with you.”

“That was your mistake. I don’t see why I should be punished for your lie.” She shook her head at him but rested her head on his shoulder.

“My family has a habit of getting excommunicated when I am not around.” He snorted.

“I’ve noticed. But it is a risk I am willing to take.” She pulled out her cigarette holder and lit a cigarette. At least it bought him some more time. He shifted her so she had to lean against the couch and stood refilling his glass and picking up the ashtray he kept on his desk. Once he returned to her, she moved back into his arms. He relaxed back on the couch and she moved with him. With her head against his chest she smoked through her cigarette, he’d long since grown used to her bad habit and when she finished, he set the ashtray aside along with his empty glass but she didn’t move. He waved a hand and the record player in the corner began to play.

The wind howled outside but she stretched out beside him, a content smile on her face. His hand trailed along her back and they shared several lazy kisses.

“Snow is still coming down out there. Do you really want to go back out in the cold?”

“I really can’t stay tonight.”

“You could.”

“No I can’t, Faustus. You know that. If I don’t come home, they are going to find out about this. About us.” He opened his eyes to look at her. To his knowledge, she had never referred to them as anything official. Never even hinted at it. She certainly had never implied they were more than the odd tryst.

“And if I say I don’t care if they know?”

“But you do.” His hand at her back stilled.

“I don’t, I never have.” If he were completely honest with himself, he wanted them to know. No more sneaking around behind everyone’s backs. In an effort to avoid mentioning his feelings on the matter, he continued. “You’re the one who is afraid of commitment.” She raised her brows just as he knew she would.

“I beg your pardon?” He smiled and closed his eyes again.

“I’ve been married before. You are the one who fiercely protects their single status.” She rolled her eyes. “Think about it, Zee, it's freezing outside.”

He made a good point but all she could think about was what her family would think. Especially Sabrina.

“This evening has been lovely but I need to get back. They will worry.”

“You’re a grown witch. You should be able to do as you please. Besides I can’t name a single thing in Greendale scarier than you, dear.” He draped his arm across her back in what he likely thought was a subtle way to keep her there.

“Other than you, you mean?” He chuckled under her.

“I have full confidence you could fight me off if you wanted to. But considering how long I have convinced you to stay I don’t think you want to.” She glanced at the clock on the mantle and bit her lip. He was right it was very late and the prospect of facing the storm outside made her shiver, even still enveloped in his warm embrace. However, that still didn’t change the fact that she needed to return home.

“Do you really want to go?” She bit her lip knowing the answer she had to give was different from the truth. Her gaze turned pleading

“Please don’t make me answer that.” She settled back against him, telling herself that ever passing moment would be her last.

Reluctantly she unentangled herself from him and stood. His eyes snapped open and he tried to catch her before she danced out of reach. He chased her to the foyer, where she tried to put on her coat. But he kept taking it off her shoulders. She shot a glare over her shoulder and finally got the coat buttoned. The fur proved to be more challenging, it was easier for him to take off and hang back up on the hook.

“Faustus!” But she couldn’t keep the laughter out of her voice as she reached for the stole again.

“How can you do this to me, Zee?” he said, faking a wounded tone. She put a hand on his chest as he advanced towards her again.

“I’m protecting your reputation, Faustus. Saving you from scandal,” she joked as he finally allowed her to wrap the fur around her neck.

“It’s a blizzard out there, you’ll freeze.”

“I’ll be fine—Hey! Let me go!” His arms encircled her waist as she tried to open the door. “Faustus!” She shrieked with laughter as he lifted her off the ground.

“My family is at home. I have to go!” He kissed her soundly and she allowed herself to be pulled into it, cupping his face in her gloved hands. When they pulled apart his lips remained inches from hers.

“It’s well after midnight, your family will all be in bed when you get there. You may as well get into mine.” She leaned forward and kissed him again as the last of her resolve evaporated.

“Someone’s forward this evening.”

“What can I say, I have good reason to be.” She stepped back and he held his breath waiting to see if she would reach for the door. Instead, she began to undo the buttons of her coat and he broke into a bright smile.

“Oh, stop grinning, you.” He put his arms back around her and gave her a quick peck on the lips.

“I don’t think I will, I just got exactly what I wanted for Yule.” She kissed him again. This time more passionately and he carried her up the steps to bed.