#being niceys to everyone and tucking them in a huge bed

[squalamander]

💤

[thesswrites]

The First Aurilmas

More Cupcake Coterie prequel for a Christmas present for @true0neutral, and this one is seasonally apropos - Hazel’s first Ellon Christmas-analog with the Hearthhearts.

Three months after Hazel became a Hearthheart, she was finally getting used to the idea of talking to people. Such things hadn’t been encouraged when she was growing up in her mother’s residence - if you could call being left in a room and ignored all the time ‘growing up’ - but now, finally, she felt confident enough to start really talking to people. Admittedly, the issue now was trying to get her to stop talking, but there was time enough for that. The little five-year-old half-elf was so full of questions and observations about all the new things she was seeing and doing for the first time that no one, not even impatient teenage foster siblings, had the heart to shut her down.

The first indication that something big was afoot at Hearthhome was the morning when Willem (a half-orc approaching his majority, and thus Hazel’s biggest new brother in all senses of the word) stamped out into the snow with eight-year-old Condred at his heels. Willem carried an axe when he went, and Hazel wondered about that. And, since she wondered, there was nothing for it but to ask.

So she went to find Momma, who knew everything, and who was currently trimming the wicks on tiny candles for no apparent reason. Hazel knew that tiny candles came for birthdays - Andromeda, another half-elf and the closest foster sibling to Hazel in age, had had her eighth birthday just two weeks ago, and her cake had been decorated with the candles and it had been so pretty! - but there wasn’t a birthday that Hazel knew about...

It still took a moment to get started, but when she did, Hazel didn’t quite stop. “Momma, why is Willem with the axe? And why are you with the candles? Is there a birthday? We all got Andri presents for birthday so should I find presents for birthday? And--” Hazel took a sniff of the air, her attention caught by a molasses-cranberry-brown sugar smell of baking. “--ooh that smells nice Mom’s baking niceys so that means there’s a birthday, right? Who’s got a birthday?”

Miranda - ‘Momma’ to the children in residence, to differentiate from ‘Mom’ Twilly - chuckled a little and put her candles down before nudging Hazel over to one of the dining room chairs and sitting her down. “It’s not really a birthday,” she explained to her new daughter, “but it sort of is.” When Hazel frowned in perplexity, Miranda explained. “There’s a festival, that we have on the shortest day of the year. We call it Aurilmas.”

“...Auril’s the Lady of Snows, right?” Hazel was starting to learn the pantheon, and was very proud of that. She liked Pelor best, but Auril was good too. Snow was pretty.

Miranda nodded. “And Auril’s at the height of her rule on the shortest day of the year. So we do her honour. Chauntea and Beory get all the accolades, you see, because they’re set over the growing things and we do them honour for our crops. But people forget what Auril gives to the land.”

Hazel, who had listened to Willem and Sylvie and Bess worry about frost damage to the pumpkins when she first got to Hearthhome, frowned again. “Snow gives things? They said it kills plants!”

“Some plants.” Miranda ruffled Hazel’s bow a little, more to straighten it than set it askew. “Mostly, though...” After a moment’s thought for how best to put it, Miranda said, “You know when you’ve had a long day and been running around with chores and playing and you’re all tired out, and Mom and I come to tuck you in?” When Hazel nodded, Miranda shrugged. “Well, the earth needs rest too. Being farmed and growing plants and feeding animals is awfully hard work, you know. So every year, Auril comes and tucks the land into a blanket of snow for the winter, so it can rest up and be ready for another year of growing things.”

After a moment’s pause, Hazel beamed at the mental image that put into her head. Then she frowned again, more thoughtful than confused. “So we celebrate Auril putting the world to bed with ... tiny candles and axes?”

Miranda couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Not axes, darling; trees. Well, a tree. Willem’s going to find a little pine tree, and he’s going to cut it down but not take the branches off it yet. And it will sit in the house for a few days, decorated with little candles and ornaments. It’s a way of celebrating how Auril leaves us life and colour even in the darkest times of year.”

Hazel frowned again. “Orn’ments?”

Twilly came into the room at that point, biting her lips against a chuckle. Miranda looked up at her and shook her head. “You made me do the Aurilmas story this year, my love?”

“It was just so entertaining!” Twilly’s giggles started escaping at that point. “Sensible people should be made to tell stories more often! But anyway, I did come in to rescue you, didn’t I?” Then she turned to Hazel. “Your momma is in charge of all the ornaments for the tree, and each of our children has one. She made this for you.” With that, she reached into an apron pocket and held up a carved-wood hazel tree with a huge gold-trimmed green bow wrapped around its trunk, with the name ‘HAZEL’ embossed on it in gold to match the bow’s trim. A small wire hook was threaded into a tiny hole in the top.

Hazel just stared at the ornament, tears coming to her eyes. She didn’t want to cry, because crying was for sad but she wasn’t sad; she was really happy. Some day, someone would explain to her that crying didn’t only come when you were sad, but that day hadn’t quite yet arrived. So for now, all Hazel could do was blink really hard to try to keep the tears from coming out and hug her mothers. “‘nkyou...”

Twilly and Miranda hugged the little half-elf back, Twilly putting a kiss on the top of her head. Miranda, always the more sensible of the two, smoothed down Hazel’s hair and said, “You’re very welcome. In all senses of the word. This is your home now, and you’re as much part of the family as every other name on that tree. But to answer your question about gifts ... you could, if you wanted. We’re going shopping in a few days, and you can see what you can pick up ... or you can make something; some of our little ones do.”

“And speaking of making things,” Twilly said, putting another kiss on the top of Hazel’s head before disengaging, “my cranberry cakes will burn if I don’t take them out now. And the maple sugar cookies need to go in. ‘Scuse me!”

Hazel worked for days on presents, and everyone loved them, no matter how lopsided and awkward they were. The dinner was the best Hazel had ever had, and the tree and other household decorations were prettier than even the shiniest things at her birth mother’s house. Pelor would always be Hazel’s favourite god, and she honoured His festival days with reverence and pride ... but after that first Aurilmas, Auril of the Snows would always have a special place in Hazel’s heart.