Side-Write: Night of the Open Hearth

Back in December, I explored the holiday in the world of Project Wild One celebrating the ringing of the new year, which for them, happens in the summer. So maybe it's fitting that we now take a look at what is probably their equivalent to Christmas, set on the winter solstice! I was in the mood to write something a little more cozy, but it developed into something bittersweet. I honestly wasn't sure where it would take me in the end, but I think I'm happy with how it came together.

As ever, these stories are less official lore and more explorations of what might be going on in the background of these worlds. I hope you find it an interesting read!

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The cold was cutting through my woolens with every gust of breeze, but still I stopped short of the front door. Fram shuffled another step or two past me and stopped, looking back. "Shae?"

I squinted against the wind trying to freeze the tears it had already drawn from my eyes, and against the radiance of my old, looming home, my father's proud domain. "...Are you sure you're ready for this?" I knew as soon as I asked that it wasn't for his sake that I hesitated, not really.

He smiled behind his scarf. "It won't be so bad. Hot food, plenty of folks to distract him."

I grunted, which was as close as I could get to agreement, and we climbed the stairs together. I didn't bother knocking, just pulled the door open for him.

Inside, the sudden heat was almost oppressive in contrast, at once welcome and yet making our layers of clothes quickly feel stifling. Shae was quick to doff his outer layers and shake off a little, puffing out a shivering sigh. I watched him, slowly pulling at my own tangled scarf. The possum at once made this easier, and harder. I didn't feel so alone, so... outnumbered, with him here, but also I knew that his presence would itself draw... still more unkind attention. Still, I couldn't imagine coming without him. I was just sorry to put him through this.

The clamor ringing from down the hallway assured me we'd come late enough to avoid being stuck alone with the host. Still, I'd barely gotten my coat off when he appeared, head poking through a doorway. "Shaedon!" He boomed to be heard over the chatter of the crowd beyond, and I heard some voices turn in response. My father stepped into the hallway, his sturdy form draped with the bright red and bells of his unhappy position in the celebration. We're both deer, but he had the proud aspect of a mighty buck to him, where I was still a skinny little thing, especially in comparison to him. His smile almost didn't falter as he glanced at my boyfriend. "Frammel. Happy Hearth's, boys. Was starting to worry about you. It hasn't been so long you forgot where it is?"

I rolled my eyes. I grew up here, and I doubted I'd ever forget this place. He was poking that I should come visit more. "Happy Hearth's." I produced a small bundle to offer him, and his bright expression did falter then as he waved it away.

"Oh, just... leave that over there." His finger hooked toward a table to one side piled with gifts, many much more tidily wrapped than ours. "Uh. Thank you." Clearing his throat, he spread his arms in invitation, stepping backwards. "Well, come on, you two! We couldn't get started without my son!"

I mumbled and took my time shedding the last of my layers, and finally we stepped up to follow him. When my father turned to lead the way, Fram shot me a smile and a shrug. Not too bad so far, right? I offered a skeptical smile. Just wait for it.

Still, I had to admit, it wasn't a bad feeling to step into the living room proper and see so many old friends and all the family, raising glasses, smiling, greeting us. I did love them, and if it weren't for my father's obsession I'd probably look forward to coming home. For a while we just mingled with the others, and it was nice. Mostly they were decent folk, though occasionally one of them looked at Shae in a way that was... politely blank. Well... they were trying.

But they started setting the tables as soon as my father had spotted me, and finally he reappeared from the kitchens and raised his arms. Slowly, the chatter died down and folk began to turn, some backing up to open a space for him. He was tall enough to speak over the crowd easily even without their help. "Welcome, everyone! Thank you for joining me today to celebrate the Night of the Open Hearth. I'm... sorry I couldn't host it last year."

That was a sentence with some baggage. The whole point of the winter solstice holiday was to celebrate and embrace those who have died and returned by the mercy of the gods, but to my father, it had been another chance to quietly be smug about our family's legacy. It had been, until some thugs a little over a year ago got him for his coins. When it happened, I really had felt bad for him. He might have come back, but he wasn't the same after. Like it had broken him, to finally lose the white. I'd hoped it might deflate his ego a little, make it a little easier for us to get along, but... Well. He'd been in no state to play host last year, but he's... bounced back, I guess.

He acknowledged it now with a wry grin, hands curling down to spread his colorful shawl, letting a bell or two jingle where they hung from him. "I suppose I'd hoped to play a different role." That brought chuckles from a few of the others. His outfit was that worn by the celebrated dead, whoever had most recently returned from a violent death. It was morbid to imply he wished someone else coming to the party had died since he did, so he didn't have to bear that "honor." Fram squeezed my hand, and I realized I was gritting my teeth. I took a deep breath and glanced at him with a faint smile. I'd be okay.

My father carried on with his speech. "Still... It has given me a great deal of perspective, to finally be on the other side. It's helped me understand just how special our family is-- how rare and precious the unbroken line is." A bitter lump sank in my stomach, and I felt eyes all around turning toward me. Gods, dad. "We gather today to thank the Gods! For their mercy, for our very bodies and lives." He thumped his own chest. "For our friends and family, so many of whom would be lost to us now without their blessing." He spread his arms to the crowd.

For all his talk of the family legacy, and for all the members of the family here... None of them would be here now if it weren't for the Mercy of the Gods. Everyone here had died a violent death, or was the descendant of someone that had died before having children, even Fram. Everyone... except me. I didn't wear New Year's White, but the way he was talking, and the way everyone kept glancing my way, I might as well have been.

"On this night, many years ago, it's said that those confused people, the first to die and return, were again on the verge of dying. They'd lost what little they had on death, and even the God's Mercy couldn't save them from the cold. On this night, the survivors opened their doors and their hearts to them, and showered them with generosity. Since then, many of the Returned have been similarly welcomed and fed on this, the coldest, longest night of the year. Well. Now that I myself stand among them, perhaps you will allow me the chance to return the favor." He offered a roguish grin, and a few people laughed. "Tonight, we thank the Gods by showing them that we prosper, that we appreciate all those that live by their blessing, that we still hold joy and kindness in our hearts! So please, everyone: Eat, drink, and be merry!" He raised a glass of wine, and the crowd cheered.

The crowd started to move, suddenly noisy again, and my father shouted directions over the noise, trying to send everyone to the right tables. I turned away, letting a long breath go. Well... he didn't call me out by name and get everyone to jeer me for my life choices, at least. It was only implied. Fram rubbed my arm. "We can go, if you want." His voice was almost lost in the din.

I closed my eyes. "...No. Let's, uh... I'm hungry, we might as well eat." When I looked up, he smiled softly, and we turned to join the flow of the crowd. Of course, my father gestured us frantically over to the main table.

The food was good, anyway. For a while it was nice, Fram even seemed to have a good time joining the chatter here and there while we ate. I mostly talked when my father prodded me with a question specifically. Yes, work was going fine. No, they didn't have any openings over on this side of town. No, my boss wasn't giving me a hard time. Yes, I'd tell him if anyone tried to start trouble with me. Which, of course, wasn't true, but I wasn't about to start that argument.

It was old Gretia that started it. She was an in-law, a raven so old that her daughter beside her was close to my father's age. I didn't even hear what prompted her, but she launched into one of her usual talking points: "well, that's what you get these days, innit! My parents, they didn't take it for granted the gods would save us forever, they had all the children they could! Knew it was their responsibility! I had six siblings, and nineteen half-siblings!" She clasped a hand to her chest. "If I hadn't dried up early, I would've had a dozen children at least! Used to be, even those that liked their own type would at least mix around a little, just to do their part!" Her daughter hissed something admonishing, but she pressed on. "What's wrong with that? Sure, I loved your father, but sometimes he was off and I was ready to bear. It's important to do your part! Even today, even with the Mercy, we're too few, you know! Too few, whether it's a broken line or not!"

I didn't look up from my food, but I could feel eyes on me again. There it was. I just... I tried to just sit and eat, but... I couldn't. I got up. My father tried to catch my arm, but I pulled free. The chatter faltered, and I just... I walked away.

Fram was a few seconds behind me. I quickly found myself in the room that was now my father's study, where once I'd played as a child. I knew it was stupid, knew I should have just... ignored it, or... said something, I knew I was being... I don't know. Childish? I was old enough to face my troubles, to face down crazy old people. I just... I didn't want to... I'd seen my father angry, and proud, yelling people down. And once, I'd caught myself doing just the same thing. Being that self-righteous blowhard, screaming down anyone that had a different opinion. I'd rather just... walk away, than be that.

I sighed, at length, into the possum's shoulder. He just kept squeezing me until I managed to let him go. When I straightened and found him putting on a worried smile for me, I almost smiled back, but I noticed my father, standing just out in the hall, waiting. Fram glanced between him and I and mumbled that he could go, but I shook my head, meeting my father's eyes.

The old buck apparently took that as invitation to enter, or just decided he'd waited long enough. "I, ah... had a word with Gretia. Tonight isn't a night for trying to... harass others. She won't do that again."

I let my eyes fall away, across the carpeting. "...No, she... I mean, she wasn't..." Well, she was, but it was stupid to try and scold her for saying terrible things at the worst times. Might as well tell her not to breathe. "...I guess it was bound to happen, with me here." I finally looked up and made a weak attempt at a smile.

He answered with a smile that might have been even less convincing than mine. His eyes looked... pained, and he made as if to speak, but stopped, and then again. It was... rare, to see him at a loss for words. Maybe he really had changed. Finally, he cleared his throat. "...Well, if you told me you wouldn't come if she were here, at least that'd give me an excuse to uninvite her." He managed one of his more devilish grins. "You'd be doing me a favor, really." Which was a lie, of course. He'd never fail to invite every single family member he could scrape up.

I let my almost-smile spread into a wry line across my face. I really didn't know what to say at this point. I didn't want to ruin the Hearth's Night dinner, and I was sort of worried I already had, but also I just... I'd been dreading this for days, weeks even, and still I found myself not ready to face all those judging eyes out there. They didn't care what I wanted, what sort of person I wanted to spend my life with, they just... wanted me to make babies. To continue some imaginary line. Honestly, it would've been a lot easier if I'd been the one to get stabbed, and my father'd had an excuse to go breed every eligible White they could find.

It was Fram, though, that finally broke the silence. "...Is it true, what she said? I mean..." He glanced between me and my father, who finally turned to look at the possum. Did I imagine that he looked at him differently? "...Does everyone really want Shae to... to just impregnate someone, even if he's with me...?"

I stiffened, and my father frowned, shooting me a confused look before responding. "Well... yes, something to that effect. With my death, he is now the last unbroken link in the Crome chain, stretching back to before the Mercy. If he... had a child with..." He looked at me again. "You didn't even talk to him about this?"

Huffing, I folded my arms. "No, father, I did not. It's..." Disgusting. Pointless. An ugly, vain attempt at maintaining a purely meaningless form of pride used only to try and maintain a sense of superiority where none was deserved. "...wrong." Even now, I... didn't want to hurt him. Not any more than I already had.

Still, my father hunched subtly, as if he'd taken a blow. He looked back to Fram. "...You know that the Cromes are... very proud of our heritage. Well, there aren't many families left that can draw an unbroken line anymore, you know? There are only a few others in all the city. It doesn't matter if you two raise the child. You'd be welcome to, but we'd be more than happy to raise a child, any number of children, if..." He glanced at me, then back to my boyfriend. "...And I'm sure most any women we found would also be happy to raise them. I... I know it must sound a little silly, for us to care about something like that so much, but it's... important, to the family."

Fram was already shaking his head gently at the suggestion it was silly. "I mean, I've... seen how few people dress in white for the new year anymore. I guess I didn't really think about it, but..." He looked to me with a question in his eyes, and I frowned, uncertain what he was thinking for once. "...Why didn't you... talk with me about this?"

Blinking rapidly, I looked away for just a moment, sighing sharply. "Well, h-how could I? You're the best thing to ever happen to me, and I didn't want to scare you with how weird my family gets in secret. I mean, I told you about some of it, just..." My father was the worst about it, but I hadn't been totally clear about how much of the family wanted this, or that I was the only one left. "I know you're too kind for your own good, and I didn't want you feeling guilty for loving me or something. I don't even want to do it, I don't want to even ask you how you'd feel about if I did it, because it's a stupid, terrible thing to ask anyone!"

He squeezed my arm, managing a smile, though his eyes were... admonishing? "So you made the choice for me? Chose to bear all this on your own?"

"It's my choice, and my burden!" I burst out, feeling frantic all of a sudden. "If I were even a little interested in-- in entertaining these-- people, then yes, the next step would have been to ask you about it, but I didn't want to-- I'm used to dealing with them being all weird, but you're not, and you're just--" I smiled, tears suddenly in my eyes. "All I did was look at your pie the other day, and you gave it to me. Today, you noticed my hands were cold, and you--" I glanced at my father and cleared my throat. "Y-you're too kind, Fram, too giving, I couldn't... I couldn't do it to you. I couldn't let you give away what you shouldn't, what you shouldn't even be asked to give."

The possum looked at me quietly, a faint smile on his lips, and he gathered up my hands to draw up, between his, to his lips. He blew on my fingers. "...Dummy." He massaged them a little. "I give you everything I can, because... I feel like I have too much, with you. You're the best thing to ever happen to ME, Shaedon. I don't know what to do with myself half the time, you make me so happy. I just... wanna do whatever I can to return the favor." His brow furrowed as he rubbed over my hands some more. "If they were talking about... wanting you to... love someone else, to marry some girl or something, then yeah, I'd... I'd have a hard time with that. But... I can't bear you any children, and... it doesn't sound like an awful idea for you to have some." His smile widened, trembling. "I dunno if I'm ready for that sort of thing, but maybe someday we'd even... have our own. Raise our own. If things work out, you know?"

The possum's form blurred, along with the room, but he kept talking. "I don't think that's such a big deal, it's not like you can't... spare a little..." he cleared his throat. "Juice. And if you didn't like your family, I guess I wouldn't worry too much about what they wanted, but... you do. And they like you. It seems like... if you didn't have this... thing between you, then you'd be a lot happier seeing your family, wouldn't you?" My face crumpled, and I'm not sure if I managed to say something, but it seemed to satisfy him. "So it sounds to me like... a chance for me to make things easier for you. To make you a little happier."

I couldn't really say anything, I ended up just... hugging him, and making some ugly little noises. We just stood like that for a while, until... I just felt tired and drained, clinging to him for strength. Finally, I managed to straighten.

My father had retreated to stand in the doorway, leaning against the frame, looking out. Maybe he'd tried to give us a little privacy, or maybe he was just being uncomfortable around naked emotions. I cleared my throat, and he glanced in, meeting my eye.

I swallowed. "...I'll... think about it." I squeezed Fram tight to my side, and he squeezed back. "...We'll talk about it." I glanced down to the possum. He was looking a bit of a mess now, too. I looked up, my tone firming a little. "...No promises."

Clearing his throat, my father nodded once, meeting my eye... then looking to Fram. "...Thank you, Frammel. Whatever happens, I..." He smiled ruefully. "I think I see a little better what all my boy sees in you. I'm proud of him, finding you."

The possum smiled.

"Well." My father straightened. "I'd better... see to the guests. Just, um..." He glanced down the hall, then looked me in the eye. "...Think you could... stick around a while? I've really wanted to... spend a little time with you again. Not... like this." He gestured between him and me, to the heavy air lingering in the room. "I can send Gretia home if that'd help."

I managed a smile and shook my head. "It's fine. We just... need a second to clean up, I think."

He nodded, and nodded to Fram, and slipped away down the hall.

I waited a few moments, turned away, and buried my face in my hands to just let out a long, raw noise. Fram patted my back.

I couldn't believe I was entertaining such a... stupid, ugly idea. What kind of reason was that to have children? Had my father really had me, and my sisters, just for this reason? What was the point of it? And why did Fram have to be so much better at dealing with it than I was? Was I really just... twisting myself out of shape over nothing? I didn't know what to believe anymore. But... it was true my father had been a lot less... weird and crazy than I'd been expecting, and... Fram had been... well, Fram. Whatever we figured out, maybe things wouldn't be so bad as I'd thought from here.