RP:A Tranquil Yule

Summary: And unexpected celebration of Yule happens upon the S.S. Tranquility days before some of its crew heads to the Shadow Plane.

The Tranquility, Cenril Wharf

Two weeks passed in a blink. Brand’s crew was fully booked, sometimes even double-booked on cargo hauling jobs. There was no time for any of the crew to take shore leave, either for the approaching holiday season or otherwise. In fact, the Captain seemed to have forgotten about it entirely. He took advantage of the surge in demand without any concern for the reasons behind it.

When Yule itself rolled around, Khitti would awaken to find Brand’s side of the bed cold, and nary a note about where his work had taken him. The rest of the ship, too, was all but abandoned. A single chain of magicked runestone lights made a path from the captain’s quarters, the only indication Khitti hadn’t been left alone with a ghost ship. It trailed down the ladder, through the galley, and looped through most of the decks before finally disappearing into the thick morning fog on the topdeck.

Khitti awoke with a start as she did most mornings. Sometimes, it was because her stomach was warning her of the impending doom that was her stomach contents, finding its way up her throat. Other times, it was those worries of hers, the ones she’d gotten much better at hiding with a smile and a laugh. Today, it was the worries, and the lack of a Brand in bed. What time was it? Had she slept in? Frak. She hadn’t made breakfast yet and it was probably mid-day. Unlike last year, she hadn’t really given much thought to Yule and the festivities that came with it. She had all she wanted, so there was no need for gift giving and such.

Khitti eventually stirred from the bed once the sleep fog in her brain dissipated, only to get dressed, and find those lights, letting them pull her towards another kind of fog. Where the hell was everyone? Maybe she was still asleep? The long trail made her feel uneasy, like she was walking right into a trap. If this was a bad dream, there was usually only one person at the end of it: one very tall, very lanky priest of Vakmathras.

As Khitti emerged onto the deck, a very fuzzy -something- fell right onto the top of her, slipping over her eyes. It was a red winter cap with white fur lining, plopped onto her from above by Brand’s cheery third-in-command. A rope colored like a peppermint stick was the only thing keeping her suspended overhead. “Sorry if I startled ya,” said Dozla, her grin completely unabashed. She clambered down from the railing and dropped to Khitti’s side. “My first idea was to hang some mistletoe n’ see what Onyx would do about it, ‘til they’n the Cap’n vetoed me. Happy Yule!” She thrust a neatly wrapped and bow-tied package into Khitti’s arms.

Okay, so maybe this dream didn’t end with Facilier. It ended with something much weirder. “What’s going on, Dozla? Why’s the ship all--” Khitti gestured vaguely at the lights, the hat, the everything Yule. She peeked up at the hat, adjusting it a bit so that she might be able to see. “Brand actually let you do this? He, uh… didn’t seem so enthused last year--it was kind of a huge frakking disaster because it’s -us-.” The redhead seemed skeptical of the gift, her eyebrows all scrunched up, her lips twisted into the slightest of frowns. “I figured we weren’t doing anything this year… so I didn’t get anyone anything.” Much like a child, she shook the package a little, just to see if it made any noise. “I’m not surprised about the mistletoe, though. Could you imagine how awkward it’d be if someone got caught beneath it with Onyx? I know they’re not -actually- a kid, but still.” Khitti gave the gift another shake, just to be safe, then took off the bow and set to opening it.

“Would you believe she can knit, on top of everything else?” Brand’s voice emerged from the fog just ahead of him. Sure enough, the box was stuffed impossibly full: maternity dresses for Khitti, bibs for the child-to-be, and several kinds of warm accessories for the remainder of winter. It was clear Dozla had studied Khitti’s measurements and sense of style when fashioning these garments. “I’m sure you’ve noticed by now,” said Dozla to Khitti, even as she pivoted to thrust a similarly sized package into Brand’s arms, “no one seems to make flattering wear for women with child. It’s all hideous frocks n’ overdone pastel lace, as if only one kind of woman would ever have children.” She made a face. Brand made a face too, and opened his package with hesitance, as if he was expecting to find something related to fatherhood in there. Dozla caught his look and elbowed him in the ribs. “I learned to sew while expectin’ my firstborn, cuz no way in frell was I goin’ around like a frilly princess doll -- can you even imagine?” Dozla, for the record, was wearing the same sort of tight-fitting trousers and leather coat she wore most days. The only difference today was the snowman on each lapel.

Khitti blinked down at the incredibly full gift box, eyeing each piece of clothing and accessories carefully, “Aw, Dozla. They’re all so nice. Thank you.” With the box in one hand, she gave the woman a half-hug, “Can you, maybe, teach me? Sewing was always Lydia’s thing. Didn’t ever think I’d need it cause… well… I didn’t ever think I’d leave that place and Lydia could always do it for me. After taking up that modeling job for Kreekitaka though, after I first got to Lithrydel, I was definitely wishing I -had- learned.” Had she ever told Brand about that? His wife-to-be was first a model and now a rock star--he sure did get lucky. “And you’re right about the maternity clothes. I’ve been looking around at different shops. Here. Larket. Kelay. Even Vailkrin cause, you know, not -everyone’s- dead there. It’s all pretty much the same and pretty much horrible.” What -were- these tailors thinking? The answer is: they weren’t. Khitti eyed Brand’s own present and moved to his side opposite of Dozla, and copied her as she elbowed his ribs. “Come on, you. Open your present. Maybe you got some pretty dresses too.” She flashed him an ever-innocent grin.

Brand’s ribs were going to be very bruised after today. “I’m gorram workin’ on it,” he scowled. Indeed, he’d been wrestling with his gift for a while now. Each box carried another exquisitely wrapped box inside of it. His prize was down to the length and width of a ring box by the time it opened to something other than another layer of cloth and wrapping paper. “All of this for… a rock?”

Dozla smirked. “Coal, because you’ve been so bad this year.” She ribbed him again. “C’mon cap’n, didn’t you read the book of Yule traditions like I told you to?” Brand grimaced. Dozla sighed and wrested the layers of packaging from him. “It was only a joke anyway. Light it up, see what it does.” Brand set his fire to to the coal-like stone, and it smoked with the warm scent of gingerbread. “It works like incense,” explained Dozla. “A different scent every time you light it. Seemed perfect for you.”

Khitti snickered the entire time Brand was messing with his gift. “Oh come on. How are you having a tough time with this? It was wrapped just as nicely as mine!” It wasn’t and Khitti thought it was entirely hilarious. Dozla was definitely going to get her own cake or something later for being a practical joke genius once again. Once he -finally- got it open, she stared at it in awe, leaning as close to it as she can to take in the scent of the gingerbread, “If the house back in Dhavislaav didn’t smell like carrot cake or peppermint… it was gingerbread.” That urge to bake again was returning and it’d likely be gingerbread people this time around. “You’re a much better at this whole gift-giving and festivities thing than I am, Dozla. Oooh! Next year, you should get Francis to help you. His spiderweb is great for hanging things from the ceiling.” Khitti beamed a bit as she spoke of her first child, evidently very proud of him.

Brand snuffed out the incense rock and lit it again. Peppermint. Summer rain. Evergreen. Bonfire. “Is there a way to pick which one?” Dozla shook her head. “ ‘Fraid not, Cap’n, you’ll just have to cycle through them ‘til you get the right one. Addin’ more was outta my price range. Maybe you give ol’ Dozla a raise n’ we’ll add on that feature next year.” She batted her eyes sweetly at him. Brand tactfully diverted his attention to Khitti; Dozla and the rest of the crew already made as much as he could afford to give after rations and repairs, and she knew it. “Where’ve you been keepin’ Francis, anyway? I’ve got a gift for him. And another for you.” Brand fished another box from the bag thrown over Dozla’s shoulder: high quality spices, and a collection of sweets recipes from around the known world.

Khitti stopped Brand before he could snuff out the rock again after the bonfire scent made itself known, “Wait! I like that one too.” Cue that blushing of hers and an attempt at hiding it. That diverting of Brand’s hadn’t gone unnoticed, of course, but there wasn’t much to be said about it, especially in front of Dozla. Everyone knew that Brand was doing his best as captain, giving the crew as much as he could, moneywise. Well, once that bakery of hers finally opened, and even after paying her own employees, maybe Brand -could- give Dozla that raise that she definitely earned. Another present was given to her and she could only blink at it, “More for me? But…” Damn it, you two. She didn’t protest, though. Protesting and making a fuss is what got them into an argument last year--and she didn’t really want to do that again. She took the package from him… and then his own gift as well? “Francis is here.” All creepy-like, Francis rappelled himself down from the crow’s nest on his spidersilk, landing silently behind Brand. Taking all the things from Brand had been preparation apparently because: “Francis… go get daddy!” Their spider-son would leap onto his father and attempt to give him that ever-familiar eight-legged hug of arachnid doom. With a pleased grin, Khitti set down both presents from Dozla and set to opening the present from Brand.

Oh, okay. Brand was on the floor now, his slobbery spider son staring down at him with eight eager eyes. “Gorramit, Francis, can’t very well give you your present if you’re on top of me.” Francis whined. Brand sighed and gave the spider a few pats on the leg. “Yeah, yeah, I love you too. But get off of me.” Once Francis skittered to the side, Brand opened another box from Dozla’s stash and fitted a nice new fuzzy boot to each of Francis’ feet. “Protection from the cold,” he explained, “plus you’ll walk more softly. Easier to sneak up on your dinner, eh boy?”

Khitti couldn’t help but grin at the two of them, “See? You’re such a good dad. You’ve been prepared for this kid all along.” She watched as all of the Spiderdoggo’s feet were fitted with the most adorable boots and Francis taking his first steps in them. Each leg was lifted awkwardly and much higher than they should as the spider tried to compensate for the boots, taking a short stroll along the deck. After testing the walking, then came the jumping and he set to stomping about like a toddler in a rain puddle. Francis, thoroughly pleased with his gift, blurbed happily and returned to Brand’s side, giving him a nuzzle.

Khitti’s own gift was opened finally and the cookbook and spices eyed, “I could use this book at the bakery! There could be a section of desserts that’s dedicated to each region of Lithrydel!” She resisted the urge to squee happily, but the excitement was clearly written on her features. “These, though--” Khitti brought the various spices to her nose and inhaled carefully, “--are not for the shop.” Perhaps she could tell by the scent that they were high quality, because her eyes nearly rolled back into her head and she looked like she might be in heaven. The gears were definitely turning in her head on what she could possibly use them all for.

Brand scritched Francis’ head. He’d scratch behind his ears, if he knew where they were. Brand was not up on his spider anatomy. “You use them wherever you like. Though, I can’t say I’ll be upset if you save them for us.” Dozla peered over her shoulder at the cookbook. “He got the one I recommended, then. Good. I swear, this book could teach even Onyx how to cook something edible.”

Khitti flipped through the book a few times before side-eyeing Dozla, “What? Brand took advice from a woman? No way. How did you manage to get him to listen to you? For as long as I’ve known him, he’s -never- listened to me.” She was kidding of course. Maybe. You asked to marry this, Brand. Are you ready to deal with Khitti for the rest of your life? “Speaking of Onyx, where the heck are they? I made some peppermint bark last night before bed and I wanted them to try it. It’s not like their typical truffles and hard candies, but it’s still got a crunch to it that they might like.” She paused in her thoughts as she found an interesting new type of cheesecake, this recipe specifically from Kelay, “I found a new kind of cheesecake for you, Brand: chocolate chip cookie dough. I can definitely put some of these spices to use in that.”

Brand frowned. “They were supposed to be here, actually.” He looked at Dozla, who shrugged. Brand hollered down the hall for his first mate, but when Onyx came rounding the corner it was from the other direction. “Yes, yes. I’m here. I was still making… preparations.” Out from their pockets came a number of trinkets. For Dozla, a book of jokes. For Brand, a collapsible spyglass. For Khitti… a jewelry box? “There’s something in there I mean for you to have. It will unlatch when the time is right.” Try though she might, it could not be pried open now.

Khitti blinked a couple times at Onyx. “I didn't think you actually celebrated holidays.” A tilt of her head was given to the jewelry box and she did attempt to open it just to make sure, but alas, it did not budge. “Hm.” When -was- the right time? Was it a few days? A few months? ...Years? Onyx and their damned riddles. “Thank you, Onyx. I'm sure it's great.” There's hesitation, but Khitti ultimately would give Onyx a hug much like she had with Dozla--it -was- Yule after all. She couldn't be entirely bitter at them all the time.

Onyx blinked back. “I don’t. But I’ve made an exception.” Once released from the hug, they bowed their head stiffly. “You’re welcome.” Brand and Dozla seemed almost as baffled by their gifts as Khitti was by hers. They weren’t -bad- gifts, just… “Hadn’t actually expected you to give anything, Onyx. Just wanted to give you this.” Brand pulled another bag from within Dozla’s sack of goodies -- more fancy truffles and hard candies. “Somethin’ to hold you over ‘til Khitti’s bakery is up and runnin’.”

“Which is soon!” Khitti chimed in excitedly. “Next week, just after the new year. There's going to be a spot specifically dedicated to hard candies and chocolates.” Obviously, Onyx wasn't the only one that liked that sort of thing, but she'd definitely had them in mind for it. She soon gathered up her boxes and eyed the three of them, “I suppose, if there's nothing else, I should go make breakfast. I imagine you're all hungry.”