Merry Christmas, people!
I really rushed to get this one in by Christmas, because it was either publish it on Christmas Day, or wait until January 2nd after I get home from London. So here you have it.
Disclaimers are important, so let's get that out of the way;
Fire Emblem does not belong to me; it belongs to the guys at Nintendo and Intelligent Systems.
You know the rest. Here's the fic, and enjoy!
Yeah. I know what you're thinking.
It's odd that I'm stalking somebody.
But hey, when you're in love, there's really not much you can do about it, right?
I'm not sure he's aware of it. I mean, he is rather unobservant, so that's probably why
Oh well. Not like there's nothing I can do about it, because trust me, there is.
Christmas comes around soon. I can sniff it in the air.
Christmas is twelve days long in Gallia and the last day of Christmas is the actual Christmas holiday. Some people send things in for every day of Christmas.
I wonder what would happen if I sent him something for every day of Christmas…
Oh well. No use in not trying.
So, I'm going to send him something on the first day of Christmas.
Maybe a partridge in a pear tree would work for the first day...
Skrimir had not gotten much sleep that night.
The war that involved basically all of Tellius had ended just under a few months ago, and in the end everybody's belief in Ashera had been brutally raped by what happened to end the war. Now, there was only Ashunera remaining.
And now, images of that war were playing themselves in his head, and some of them were not pretty; the rapid storming of the Laguz Alliance on just about every key defensive position Begnion had, the beorc tactician that worked up strategies until Skrimir was defeated by general Zelgius, the petrified forms of everybody that was weak and was affected by Ashera, everything.
The future king of Gallia was really not responding well, considering that there were a bunch of burdens posed on him now that he was really getting prepared to be the next king of Gallia.
The lion sighed as he paced the courtyard that stood as a centerpiece on the castle grounds. So much had happened, and Skrimir really needed a break that he was not getting at all.
He was really getting anxious for relief, so he sat down on the soft layer of snow that had settled on the grass of the courtyard over the past three days. He then looked at the sky, blazing sapphires wondering around the clouds indifferently.
After an hour or two of just sitting there without thinking of anything, Skrimir stood up, and was surprised to find a flower pot with a small peach tree inside.
He perked his eyebrows up a little, red laguz markings on his forehead wrinkling a little as he stepped forward. Now, the lion was normally not very observant, but he knew that when he had sat down an hour earlier there was no pot there.
Which meant that somebody had somehow managed to leave the pot there without the future king's noticing it.
Skrimir walked up to the potted plant, sifting through the leaves to eventually find a partridge sitting in the branches.
The said partridge immediately flew onto Skrimir's shoulder, his long crimson locks of hair brushing pretty lightly against the feathers. Skrimir looked at the partridge for a second.
There was something odd about this partridge that Skrimir noticed. However, he was unable to place it for a while.
Finally, he noticed the scroll attached to the partridge's leg, and the realization hit him that somebody intended the offering as a gift.
He gingerly removed the paper from the partridge's leg after unintentionally getting it angry. (The fact that he had huge hands that were not very skilled with small objects did cause the partridge a lot of pain, and even though Skrimir did try to apologize the bird kept on crowing.) When he finally had a hold on the paper, he unfurled it to find a message written there.
"Hm…" said the lion. "I wonder who this could be from…"
Skrimir's eyes drifted back onto the paper, and he read the lines of surprisingly well-written handwriting.
"Dear Skrimir,
This is a gift, given to you with all my heart and soul. Words cannot describe the sensation I feel in my heart whenever your presence graces my being. We see each other all the time, and I often dismissed this feeling then. But now, I've realized it for what it really is; love.
But since I won't identify myself, I'll play a game. Yes, a game. You see, today is the beginning of Christmas, as you well know. I'll send you a gift every day of Christmas, and if by day twelve you haven't figured out who I am, expect a little surprise waiting at your chambers on the day after the twelfth day of Christmas. It will be pleasant, though, so no worries.
Yours truly,
Your true love."
The lion looked at the letter for a short while, the partridge resting on his shoulder as he read.
Skrimir then let down the scroll and nodded.
"You're on," stated the lion under his breath.
Okay, I got his attention! That's all good.
He even kept the partridge with him, even though he had to get the cage. But hey, it had to be in the peach tree, so what do you expect?
So right now, everything is going well.
I think I better crank out the two turtle doves now…
Skrimir paced around the hallways, a turtle dove perched on his shoulder as his scarlet eyes danced around the hall.
He said nothing, instead preferring to let his hearing speak for everything around here.
As he walked, a young cat laguz happened to pass the future king. The said cat laguz was female, bubbly, and wearing pink right then and there.
"Skrimir?" asked Lyre, blonde hair skipping about as she stepped. "Is something up?"
The lion was somewhat taken by surprise by Lyre's sudden appearance. He looked at the young woman, then back at the wall.
"Have you seen any turtle doves around here?" asked the lion.
"Other than the one on your shoulder, no," said Lyre. "In the palace, or outside?"
"In," said Skrimir.
"Then I haven't seen any," said the cat. "Why?"
"The missing turtle dove was a gift," said Skrimir. "I think I'm going to anger somebody if I lose track."
"Who sent it?" asked Lyre, leaning against the wall.
"I don't know," said Skrimir. "Whoever this person is labels him or herself as 'your true love'."
"Well, that's a start, I guess," said Lyre. "Yep, that person will most probably be pissed when he finds you've lost one of the turtle doves."
"Oh, damn," said Skrimir. "Now I really need to find it. Are you sure you haven't seen it anywhere?"
"Nope," said Lyre. "I haven't smelled it, either. Perhaps—"
Lyre didn't get to finish her sentence, for then somebody yelled at the top of his lungs, and then Giffca appeared in the hallway, his normally cool composure having been completely destroyed as he yelled. His black hair went flying all over the place, but he was thrashing around so fast that neither Skrimir nor Lyre could figure out why Giffca was so out of character.
"Giffca!" yelled Skrimir, hoping to shut Giffca up so they could figure out what was going on.
However, the king's vassal kept on yelling, eventually halting when he noticed Skrimir and Lyre looking at him with puzzled expressions riddling both of their faces.
Finally, Giffca stayed still long enough for Lyre and Skrimir to notice that there was something white in Giffca's left eye.
"Something shat in my eye," said Giffca. "I do not know what, but it came from a high place and I don't know what to do!"
Skrimir and Lyre looked at each other, and then Lyre went in the direction Giffca came running from, Skrimir following very closely behind.
When they arrived, a turtle dove landed right on Skrimir's shoulder, landing next to the turtle dove that had been resting there the entire time. (Somehow, it remained undisturbed amidst all the clatter of Giffca's newfound crap in his eye.)
It hit both of them like a ton of bricks.
"Aw, damn it," said Skrimir. "Was it really my turtle dove that crapped in Giffca's eye?"
That did not turn out well. At all.
I did not expect for that to happen. Okay, the partridge is still there, but the turtle doves had to go. On orders of Caineghis, no less.
If you ask me, that really sucks.
And I did not intend to get Skrimir in trouble with Caineghis as well.
Oh, dear.
Maybe I can make it up to him with three Crimean hens?
Skrimir paced the woods of Gallia wondering where the hens had run off to.
He had received foul as a Christmas gift again. This time, though, the gift consisted of three Crimean hens. How they had been obtained was beyond the lion at this point in time, but otherwise he was fine.
And like the turtle dove that had crapped on Giffca's eye the previous day, the hens had run off again.
Only this time, they conveniently ran off to the outside, where they could get lost and be hard to find.
It was times like these that tended to spur Skrimir on in terms of action. He really was an active person, and he found hunts to be quite enthralling.
The difference between this hunt and other hunts was that he was not seeking to kill the target in question. Even though the killer instinct did brush up in the lion, he did know a lot of things.
However, he was still in human form, so for him to pursue, he would have to assume his transformed state.
A hand on his shoulder stopped him from going forward, however, and he turned to find the battle-hardened eyes of his uncle Caineghis.
"Skrimir," said Caineghis. "Are you all right?"
The younger lion was caught off guard by Caineghis' appearance, and he turned to look at his uncle.
"I'm fine," said Skrimir. "Why do you ask?"
"I was wondering where you went," said Caineghis. "Are you sure you are okay with what happened yesterday?"
"Yes," responded Skrimir. "But I'm trying to find something."
"What exactly?" asked Caineghis.
The younger lion sighed and walked forward a little, the elder taking a step forward in case anything happened.
"I've been getting Christmas gifts," said Skrimir. "They've been anonymously dropped off in my chambers, with notes from somebody who claims him or herself to be my true love."
"Were the turtle doves a gift?" asked Caineghis.
"Yes," said Skrimir, resentment showing in his voice. "But it's really today's present I'm finding out here. I got three Crimean hens today, and somehow they ran away from me when I wasn't looking. So now, I have to find them."
"Three Crimean hens, you say?" asked Caineghis.
"Yes," said Skrimir. "Why do you say that?"
"I could have sworn that general Lethe went hunting for hens," said Caineghis. "Of course, it could be complete conjecture if she found your hens, but—"
Skrimir didn't need to hear much else; he immediately shifted into his lion form and darted into the woods.
The king of Gallia sighed, transforming as well and following his nephew as well as he could.
When he caught up and reverted back to his human form, he found that Skrimir was standing in front of a sitting Lethe, who so happened to be plucking the feathers off of the second of three dead Crimean hens.
Caineghis could only imagine how furious Skrimir was at this point; his gift from somebody else had been carelessly killed, and in many ways the king of Gallia could agree with Skrimir for being furious.
But of course, Skrimir's anger never truly manifested itself in front of his subordinates, so he simply huffed and puffed in front of a confused Lethe.
He picked up the only hen that had not had its feathers plucked and held it in front of the girl's face.
"You think this is funny?" asked Skrimir. "You think this is funny?"
"What did I do?" asked Lethe. "I just went hunting!"
"You killed my gift!" yelled Skrimir. "This is not hunting! This is killing that which is mine!"
Lethe looked at her handiwork, then back at Skrimir.
"Well, I apologize greatly," said Lethe. "I wish I–"
Skrimir didn't let her finish the sentence before he threw the dead chicken in Lethe's face, her open mouth clamping down right on the legs of one of the chicken.
"That's not how you apologize after you've killed my gift!" shouted Skrimir.
With this, the younger lion left pouting with a definite anger in his step.
It was then that the cat laguz noticed Caineghis there. She dropped her handiwork, pulled the chicken from out of her mouth, and turned to Caineghis.
"Talk some sense into him, milord!" said Lethe pleadingly. "Do something to get him straight!"
The king of Gallia shook his head and looked at the cat.
"Lethe, it was wrong of you to kill his gift," said the king. "I know you didn't mean to, but please look before you leap next time."
With this, Caineghis followed Skrimir's path in the forest, leaving a bewildered Lethe sitting there with an offended look on her face.
Aw, damn it! That didn't work either!
And he hasn't figured out who I am, either.
Oh well. At least this time he isn't in trouble with Caineghis
Guess it's time to crank out the four calling birds, then.
Here goes nothing…
Ranulf sat on the snow, hands playing games with the snow surrounding him.
Life really was not so bad during the winter at all. It just took a little getting used to.
In fact, everything that was going on in the world then would take a while of getting used to. After all, a few months ago was the end of Ashera's judgment on Tellius, so all this would take a while of getting used to.
It sure was cold, but it was nothing that a laguz couldn't stand. The wind threatened to freeze the blue hairs that rested on Ranulf's head and the iciness of the weather bit into him, but really, laguz were able to stand such extremes in temperature.
Except maybe the bird laguz. They were the ones in trouble if there was cold in the area.
He heard the crunch of feet walking on snow not too far away from him, and the cat laguz turned his head to see Skrimir walking along the courtyard. Ranulf's expression lit up with a candor as the lion took his place next to Ranulf on the snow.
The cat immediately noticed that Skrimir seemed to be in a rather good mood right then and there, which, given what this 'true love' had put Skrimir through, was rather rare.
"Hi, Skrimir," said Ranulf cheerfully.
"Hello," said Skrimir. "I got another gift from my true love, and this time I don't think anything can go wrong."
"Really?" asked the cat. "What's up?"
"I got four calling birds from this true love," said Skrimir. "Even better, they came in a cage. They seem to be rather happy in there, so I do not think that any trouble will be caused by it."
"You do realize that they could keep you awake at night, yes?" asked Ranulf.
"Doesn't matter to me," said Skrimir. "I like their little chattering."
"Well, if you like it I can't convince you not to partake in it, I guess," said Ranulf.
"This time, I am sure not to get in trouble with anybody else," said Skrimir.
"I bet that would be the case," said Ranulf. "You know, it is getting a little nippy around here. What about we go back inside?"
"Of course," said Skrimir, promptly standing up.
After Ranulf got to his feet, both laguz walked back to the palace, both of them rather happy with each other.
Nothing happened the rest of the day.
Success!
So the calling birds and the partridge worked. It's all good.
Let's throw five golden rings into the mix to see what happens next, shall we?
Caineghis paced the halls of the palace, worry etched in his eyes as he walked around.
Skrimir had gone missing in the palace about three hours ago. Lethe had told him that the younger lion was going to town to see to something, but otherwise, Caineghis was a little worried.
True, Skrimir was one person that was incredibly difficult to kill. After all, he was a lion, and lions were difficult to kill.
Still, Caineghis could not help but have a small concern nudging at his being right then and there. After all, Skrimir was his nephew, and he was allowed to worry about his family like that, so he trusted it would be okay if he checked.
When he found no sign of Skrimir anywhere, he decided he should return to the throne room.
As he was walking there, he happened to run into Giffca, a small ball of cotton still residing on his eye from where the turtle dove had crapped on it just the other day.
"Good day, milord," said Giffca as the king of Gallia approached him.
"Good day," responded Caineghis. "Have you seen Skrimir anywhere?"
"Well, I do know that he went to town," said Giffca. "But afterwards, I haven't the slightest idea where he went. Worried?"
"Indeed," said Caineghis. "I do hope that he is all right outside."
"I am pretty sure he is, milord," said Giffca. "Just have faith."
"Thank you, Giffca," remarked Caineghis.
Giffca responded with a nod, and the king of Gallia returned to the throne room.
After another two hours of waiting, Caineghis was getting rather impatient. Skrimir usually reported back to Caineghis after he went to town, and the fact that he had not shown up within the span of two hours worried him a great deal.
With a sigh, the king stepped off of the throne and went into the hallways again to find his nephew.
As he searched, Ranulf briefly appeared in the hall, but it was a long enough appearance for Caineghis to call out to him.
"Ranulf!" barked out the king of Gallia.
The cat laguz grinded to a halt before turning back around and facing Caineghis.
"Yes, milord?" asked Ranulf.
"Have you seen Skrimir around here?" asked the Caineghis. "I am getting worried about him now."
"No," said Ranulf. "However, Lyre just came in, and she did tell me that he should be back in just a couple of minutes."
"That is good," said Caineghis.
"Lyre also suggests you stay clear of him for the next two hours if you don't want to get your arm torn off," said Ranulf.
Caineghis' expression tilted to the side in curiosity.
"Why?" asked the lion.
"Apparently he was at the blacksmiths," said Ranulf. "He got visited by his 'true love' again. I trust Skrimir told you about this?"
"He did," replied Caineghis. "What did he get this time?"
"Five golden rings," said the cat. "But none of them fit. So he went to the blacksmith's to get it rectified, but apparently it couldn't be done without merging all the rings. So right now, he's not a happy camper."
"I can imagine," said Caineghis, the image of Skrimir trying to fit badly-sized rings on his fingers popping into his head rather amusingly. "I will be sure to stay clear of him then. Thank you, Ranulf."
"Anything for you, milord!" said Ranulf.
The two of them then went their separate ways.
Aw, man!
The golden rings didn't work either! Jeez!
It's like half of what I give him doesn't work at all!
Time to present him with the six geese-a-laying.
(Who the hell uses that kind of archaic language any more, anyway?)
Skrimir sat next to a nest in his room. Or, rather, a set of three nests.
His true love had given him six geese, and all of them were laying eggs for some reason or another. It was supposed to be a bad time to lay eggs, but the lion was pretty sure that nobody cared about that. After all, it was supposed to be a season of good will to all, so Skrimir set aside all questions as he watched the geese move around.
He received a knock on his door as he watched the geese waddle their way around his room or otherwise sit on the eggs. With a grunt, the lion stood up and walked to the door, careful not to step on the nests as he got to the door. He opened it to find Lethe at the door.
"Good day, Skrimir," said Lethe with a tone of strict militarism in her voice.
"Good day," said the lion. "What do you need?"
"Not what I need," said Lethe. "Caineghis requests your presence sometime within today."
"I can manage that," said Skrimir.
After he said this, one of the geese crowed at Skrimir, and the cat laguz on the other side of the doorway peered into the room to see what was there.
"Are those geese in your room?" asked Lethe.
Skrimir nodded and walked to the nests.
"From my true love again," said Skrimir. "They're laying eggs too, except I don't know what to do with them."
"Really?" asked Lethe. "Do you think I could take one?"
"If you're going to eat of it, no," said Skrimir, the anger at what she had done to the Crimean hens rising up inside of his being again. "Otherwise, fine by me."
"Thank you," nodded the cat laguz as she bent down to one of the nests.
"You're welcome, Lethe," said Skrimir.
The cat laguz deftly pulled an egg from one of the nests, and smiled as she turned it in her hand.
However, the goose that was guarding the nest crowed, and then it was on Lethe like a bolt of lightning.
Lethe jumped into a standing position as the goose attacked her, letting out a yell as the goose began to peck at the cat.
Skrimir promptly stood up and immediately tried to pry the goose off of Lethe. The girl just kept yelling as the lion kept on trying to pry the goose off.
(On a side note, that goose was one really tough goose; it would not budge, and that was a lot considering that Skrimir had powerful arms that could pry most normal geese off in a second.)
Finally, Skrimir managed to pull the goose off of the woman, but the sheer force of the pull both scratched Lethe in the arm and sent Skrimir falling to the ground.
The other geese had to run out of the way, and then Skrimir fell back onto all three of the nests, breaking all of the eggs underneath him and getting the geese appropriately angry.
Then, all of the geese pounced on poor Skrimir, and then Lethe ran outside the room, yelling at the top of her lungs that the future king of Gallia was being attacked by a bunch of angry geese.
The geese got sentenced to death by Skrimir after everybody managed to pry the angry geese off of Skrimir.
Nothing ever turns out the way I want it to! Why?
I try to be good to Skrimir, yet my gifts royally rape the chances that I get to show my love! Why?
Oh well. At least there's next time.
Time to see if the seven swans-a-swimming will do any good.
Caineghis was a little unsettled by the events of yesterday. Skrimir would get the most of many opponents, yet to be attacked by an angry flock of geese was not only bizarre but incredibly embarrassing to poor Skrimir. Nobody thought the incident was funny at all, though for some reason Skrimir, swathed in bandages from all the damage that the geese had done, had managed to find something about it with which to laugh about.
The king of Gallia stood just outside the vast expanse of the Gallian country, still sheltered by an awning that happened to cover the entrance of the palace. The town was visible under a light blanket of snow just down the hill, and really, nobody could ask for a better day.
The door behind Caineghis opened, and then a bubbly Lyre appeared and skipped past the king of Gallia. She had found this as the perfect opportunity to go and have some fun in the snow, so she was rather happy about it.
Lethe came out soon after, and Lyre called out to her sister as she skipped around into the woods nearby.
The older cat was about to follow Lyre when she noticed the expression on Caineghis' face.
"Is something wrong, milord?" asked Lethe.
Caineghis looked down at Lethe, then back at the woods.
"I wonder what we could have done differently with the geese," said Caineghis. "Maybe we should bar the gifts this 'true love' keeps sending him."
"Why?" asked the cat laguz. "They are just gifts; why take them away?"
"Because they tend to cause scandals and other things," said the lion, crossing his arms over his chest. "I think it would be best for all of us."
"Yes, but by the same token, it is five days until Christmas comes again," said Lethe. "I don't think it would be a good idea to do that. After all, this is a season of goodwill to all, so perhaps this 'true love' doesn't really mean him any harm at all."
"You truly think so?" asked Caineghis.
"Yes," said Lethe. "Give this 'true love' a chance. Maybe we'll actually get something good out of this."
"All right," said the lion. "I will give him another chance."
"I wonder what Skrimir got today…" said Lethe, leaning against the pillar.
At this moment in time, Lyre ran back out of the forest, and then approached Lethe.
"Are there any bodies of water in the courtyard?" asked the younger cat upon reaching her sister.
"Why do you ask?" asked Lethe.
"Skrimir got seven swans swimming in the lake from his true love today," said Lyre. "They got frozen into the lake, though, so Skrimir got them out and everything. Only problem is, we need some body of water for them."
"I trust it would be all right to use the pond over in one of the corners of the courtyard," said Caineghis. "Just be careful not to get the birds angry this time."
Lyre nodded and returned to the wood, Lethe following her to lend her assistance in case it was needed.
Okay, the seven swans a-swimming turned out well. We had to accommodate to make sure they were comfortable, but otherwise nothing scandalous happened.
So we're good on that.
Now, time to get to the equal gifts.
Let's start with the eight maids a-milking…
Skrimir found himself trudging along the courtyard, smiling a little as he walked.
He had been greeted by eight maids with milk jars outside of the castle grounds when he was walking there this morning, and they had all presented him with milk jars and told him they were from his true love. Skrimir had told them he would prefer to have them take the milk over to his room as a security decision, so he had them set the jars inside his room. Right then, nobody had touched them, so he was glad about that.
He found Ranulf sitting a short distance from a pillar, the cat looking at the swans that had settled in the pond the day before. He did seem a little tired, but otherwise he looked fine.
Skrimir decided he needed the company, so he walked over to the cat. As he sat down, Ranulf finally looked at him.
"Good day, Skrimir," said Ranulf.
"Good day," responded the lion, his eyes latching onto the swans. "I trust the swans are all right?"
"Yes," said Ranulf. "Nobody's trying to kill your birds today."
"I can imagine," said Skrimir. "I don't want my 'true love' to be angry."
"I trust that your 'true love' would understand," said Ranulf. "I think whoever this true love is understands that most of your gifts failed because of factors beyond your control."
"You really think so?" asked Skrimir.
"Yes," said Skrimir. "Still, I wonder. It's already the eighth day of Christmas and I still haven't figured out who my 'true love is'."
"What, he didn't tell you?" asked Ranulf.
"No," said Skrimir. "I don't know who he is, and I still haven't been able to guess."
"Well, maybe a little time by yourself wouldn't hurt to guess who your 'true love' is," said Ranulf.
"I know," responded the lion. "But in a way, I am kind of afraid to guess."
The cat looked at Skrimir, a puzzled expression on his face.
"Why?" asked Ranulf.
"I think I'm in love with somebody," said Skrimir. "That's the problem. I don't want to guess because the person I really do love might not be this person who is giving me the gifts. I don't want whoever my true love is to be offended by my guess, you know?"
"I understand," said Ranulf. "Actually, I wanted to ask you something."
"Yes?" asked Skrimir.
"Whenever you refer to your true love, you always use 'he or she'," said Ranulf. "Why is that?"
"Oh, you don't know?" asked the lion. "I would have figured Caineghis would have told you by now."
"Told me what?" asked Ranulf.
Skrimir remained silent for a second.
"Can you keep a secret?" asked Skrimir.
"Of course," said Ranulf. "What is it?"
"The future king of Gallia is bisexual," said Skrimir.
The cat's gaze instantly locked themselves on Skrimir.
The future king of Gallia…
Bisexual?
"Are you serious?" asked Ranulf.
"Very," said the future king of Gallia.
"Oh," said Ranulf. "Well, I trust that should be fine. What about anybody else?"
"I am afraid of being hit around by anybody else who finds out," said Skrimir.
"Well, leave it to me to remain by your side," said the cat encouragingly.
Skrimir looked over at Ranulf, a grateful smile gracing his face.
"Ranulf, thank you," said Skrimir.
Okay, so the maids a-milking went well.
But he's bisexual?
Dear me. That can be both good and bad, since the other gender can steal from me.
But will they?
I think I better test that theory out with nine ladies dancing…
"Aagh! Get these ladies off of me!"
Giffca, Lethe, Lyre, Ranulf, and Caineghis were all running after Skrimir, who was yelling as loud as he could as he was being chased.
Actually, he was not being chased around by the five aforementioned individuals; rather, he was being chased by a line of nine female dancers. One or two were beorc, one was a tiger, and maybe one of them was a branded, but one thing that everybody could agree on was that they all danced in perfect synchronicity as they danced their way after the future king of Gallia. Somehow, they were also dancing so fast that despite the fact that everybody was running as fast as possible, they were still out-dancing the runners as they followed Skrimir.
Needless to say, the question that had gotten everybody's attention was how the dancers had gotten there in the first place. They were rather risqué in their actions, but nobody could understand how the dancers had snuck in. Lethe was very sensitive and could hear a pin drop in a noisy room, but to not be able to hear dancers sneaking into the palace was something that was beyond many in the castle.
Still, those questions would be answered later.
For then, they needed to chase the dancers to get them off of Skrimir.
And the chase would take a while, as some of the people in the chase were beginning to tire out and the dancers showed no signs of fatigue.
They ran through the courtyard, the halls, the throne room, and other places in their chase, and they passed these places a great deal of times. During the third pass through the courtyard, the group almost trampled on the swans, who had decided to walk around a little outside of the pond, and on the fourth pass through the halls Skrimir crashed into a candelabra, which should have tripped the dancers but did not.
No matter what, though, the chase amounted to chaos within the palace, which was hardly something becoming of a sovereign nation.
Finally, though, Skrimir stopped in the middle of the hallway when he felt the dancers' eyes avert their gaze, and then the dancers, not noticing that Skrimir had stopped, kept on dancing, and, in sequence, they all bumped into the lion and fell to the floor.
This gave the other five laguz the chance to go to the girls and pick some up off the ground. The dancers thrashed in their grips, but they were better off thrashing against a rock that pinned people down on a mountain.
Giffca was then given the task of taking the girls back to the town, where they would remain under house arrest for the remainder of the twelve days for disorderly conduct.
And as Giffca walked away, Skrimir had his hand curled into a fist about the fact that this was a 'gift' from his true love.
As one can imagine, the rest of the day did not turn out well.
Yep. Exactly as I thought.
Or is it because he's a believer in being faithful?
I think I better check that as well.
So, let's bring out the ten lords a-leaping and see what they can do.
Skrimir sat on the lawn, finally able to take a deep breath the way he should have been doing a while ago before he had been chased.
Basically, what had happened the day before happened again, only this time the chase moved at a much faster rate and it involved ten lords of Gallia leaping all over the place. Skrimir was still angry at his true love for having sent the lords and the dancers after him.
Finally, though, Caineghis found his nephew sitting there, and the king of Gallia sat next to Skrimir.
The younger lion did not say anything when Caineghis sat down next to him.
"It's been a pretty rough day, yes?" asked Caineghis.
Skrimir nodded curtly. He was not in the mood to say much, but Caineghis respected this anyway.
"Are you sure you want this true love to remain unleashed?" asked Caineghis.
"Now why would you ask that?" asked Skrimir. "Of course I want him to keep giving. It's just that these presents made me angry."
"Well, okay," said the king.
Caineghis stood up and left Skrimir to his own devices.
The younger lion skulked on the lawn for a while.
Finally, Skrimir saw Ranulf sit next to him, the cat not making a sound as he settled next to Skrimir.
"You okay?" asked the cat as he sat in the snow.
"No," said Skrimir. "Why would my 'true love' do that to me?"
"Well, maybe your true love knows your secret?" asked Ranulf.
"But how is it possible?" asked Skrimir. "You and Caineghis are the only ones who know about that."
"And how do you know nobody was eavesdropping?" asked Ranulf.
Skrimir looked at Ranulf, a tiny amount of shock showing in his face.
"Well, that is true," said the lion. "But still, we would have noticed."
"Not really," replied Ranulf. "We know better than anybody how laguz tend to act around here."
The lion nodded.
"So maybe it was to test who I would remain faithful to?" asked Skrimir.
"I would think so," said Ranulf. "I'm not sure myself, but it seems likely. I think this 'true love's intentions are still good."
"Now that I see that, I think so too," said Skrimir. "Thank you, Ranulf."
"You're welcome," said Ranulf. "Do you think you should rest?"
"Yes," said Skrimir. "I will see you later then."
The lion stood up, leaving Ranulf to sit on the snow and look at the swans (who were still alive at the end of the day).
Okay. Skrimir will be faithful to me allright.
I think I should give him a little something tonight actually; the day before Christmas it's customary for somebody to hire pipers to play outside of the palace and in the town.
And I'll be sure to pick eleven pipers this year. It was hard getting them together, but otherwise we're in good shape.
Let's roll.
Skrimir stood in the courtyard, the sound of eleven pipers piping wafting on the wind to his ears.
The lion was alone. Everybody else had gone outside to listen, but Skrimir preferred to listen to pipers from a distance.
The night was especially chilly, but then again, all Christmas Eves were chilly anyways. It was always customary to have pipers piping outside the night before Christmas. Skrimir himself wondered what practical purpose that served, but he still appreciated that everybody would celebrate the holiday the way it was meant to be celebrated.
The lion really wanted to be alone so he could think a little; he still had not figured out who had given him all the gifts, so he needed some time to think about the subject.
After maybe an hour or so of thinking, however, he had been getting nowhere in figuring out who his 'true love' was.
He heard the familiar crunch of snow behind him as he thought. He looked through the night to find Ranulf walking up to him, the cat wearing heavier clothes than he normally would have on any other night.
"Evening, Skrimir," said Ranulf.
"Evening," said Skrimir. "I still can't figure out who's been giving me the gifts."
"Are you trying to think about it?" asked Ranulf. "Maybe a random guess would suit you better?"
"I would think so, but no," said Skrimir. "Remember that I am in love with somebody."
"True," said Ranulf. "You know, I wonder why you don't tell anybody who you're in love with."
"I can't," said the lion. "I don't want anybody to get offended by my choice."
"Who, your 'true love'?" asked Ranulf. "You're doing your 'true love' injustice by not telling who you're in love with. And then, when your 'true love' finds out that you're in love with somebody else, they'll get very angry then."
"And it would also reveal my secret," added Skrimir after Ranulf finished.
The cat looked at Skrimir with a funny look etched on his face.
"Well, that adds another dimension to it, then…" said Ranulf. "But what if your true love is male?"
Skrimir looked at Ranulf, scarlet eyes piercing the night as he looked.
"Are you giving me clues?" asked Skrimir. "Because you seem a little too assertive for your own good."
"No," replied Ranulf. "It's just food for thought."
"Maybe," said Skrimir. "Are you sure I should tell?"
"Yes," said Ranulf. "I think we all deserve to know who you are in love with."
"No," said the lion, turning away nervously.
"Skrimir, come on!" said the cat teasingly. "You can tell!"
"But I don't wish to," said Skrimir, turning to face the cat laguz.
"Skrimir, it is all right!" said Ranulf, inching towards Skrimir as he talked. "I'm not going to tell anybody about it, I swear!"
"No," replied Skrimir sternly.
"Skrimir!" said Ranulf. "Just tell me already! I just want to know! Don't you think I have the right to know? I've been here for you all of these days, providing tips and stuff, and you're going to leave me out of the blue? Come on! That's not—!"
The cat's sentence remained unfinished, for then Skrimir lunged onto Ranulf, lips shoved against the cat's roughly when the two of them were settled in the snow. There was plenty of shock showing on Ranulf's face.
However, Skrimir broke the kiss roughly, kneeling above Ranulf with a lot more shock on his expression.
"I'm sorry," said Skrimir. "I should leave now."
The lion ran out of the courtyard, the cat getting to his feet and holding his hand out to the lion.
"Skrimir, wait!" yelled Ranulf.
But it was to no avail, for the future king of Gallia disappeared behind a pillar.
The cat sighed, shoulders drooping down as he looked down at the snow.
The pipers kept on piping.
Damn it! He was so close!
Why didn't he stay?
I guess you guys need to know who I am; I am indeed Ranulf, and I am trying to win Skrimir over.
And I already engaged the twelve drummers.
That's okay, though. I guess the mistletoe kiss will come sooner than expected.
Time to install the mistletoe over the doorway…
Skrimir sulked in his room, the rather rash kiss from last night still fresh in his memory.
What had he done? He probably offended his true love more than he would have if he had just let him know later. Now, there was no hope of finding out the identity of his true love.
And Ranulf probably hated Skrimir now that he had forced the kiss down his throat.
The party was that night, but the lion did not feel like going at all. He had just mucked up everything, and for him there was only the sulking left.
Christmas day should not have been about being angry over something he did.
The lion looked over to the partridge, which was still chirping merrily in its cage. How could the partridge be merry, when the owner was angry at himself? That was what killed him about it all; everybody else was laughing, talking, and spreading the sunshine, and there he was being angry about some kiss that he took too seriously.
Skrimir was not happy, and there looked like there was no hope of redemption for himself.
There was a knock on the door. The lion perked up a little, and then he looked at the door.
With a grunt, he lifted himself off of the bed and walked to the door, and opened it to find Ranulf standing at the door, a plain expression on his face.
The lion sighed heavily, knowing that he had a great deal of apologizing to do.
"Ranulf…" said Skrimir gently. "I'm sorry. It just… happened."
"No, no," said Ranulf. "Don't worry about it. I actually wandered if you were okay."
"No, I am very sorry," said the lion. "I really am."
"And I said it's okay," said Ranulf. "Oh, and by the way, look above your head."
The lion did as he was told to find a small branch suspended under the doorway. The red berries instantly gave the branch's identity away.
"Mistletoe?" asked Skrimir, head going back to Ranulf. "What for?"
The cat grinned mischievously.
"So we can have a proper first kiss," said Ranulf.
Before the words were able to process themselves in Skrimir's head, the cat lunged at Skrimir, his lips mashing themselves against the lion's.
Skrimir was a little shocked at first, but he got over this quickly, wrapping his arms around the smaller laguz and returning the kiss fervently.
They kept this up for a while, Skrimir somehow getting up off the floor and into his room, where he then closed the door behind him.
Finally, they had to break the kiss for a breath of air, and Skrimir looked at Ranulf with a light in his eyes.
"Let me guess," said Skrimir. "You were my 'true love'."
"Indeed," replied Ranulf. "You came really close last night."
The lion smirked, the light in his eyes shining brighter.
"I did, yes," said Skrimir. "I have to admit; those were some crazy days that you put me through. Especially with the lords and the dancers."
"Hey, when I need to check something, I can be pretty crafty," replied Ranulf. "But now, we're all good, right?"
"Yes," said Skrimir.
The lion finally let go of Ranulf, the cat landing on the floor and promptly sitting on the bed.
"The drummers should be here soon," said the cat. "I made sure to engage your favorite drummers."
"You mean…?" asked Skrimir.
"Yep," said Ranulf. "Those."
Skrimir's face lit up, his mouth parting a little.
"Ranulf…" said the lion. "Thank you!"
The lion promptly went to the cat and lifted him in the air, Ranulf yelping as he was taken by surprise. When Skrimir had Ranulf in place, the cat snuggled into Skrimir's chest, his own arms wrapping around the future king.
"Hey," said Ranulf. "Anything for you, love."
Skrimir sat on the bed, laying Ranulf down on it.
The lion then brought his lips to the cat's, and the rest was history.
And that is the story of how I managed to get the courage to reveal myself to Skrimir.
He told me later that he had started feeling things for me towards the end of the war, but that he was not sure and didn't approach me then. I think that it led to the rough kiss on Christmas Eve.
I told him I felt the same way, but that this was the only way I could think of to approach him at all.
But hey, we're together now, and that's all that matters.
A/N: And that's the end!
We all know what happens next, right?
Merry Christmas, everyone!
And for my faithful readers, I'm off to London. Until then, cheers!
-Herr Wozzeck