Here's my prompt for day seven of the 12 Days of Christmas Challenge on The Village Square forum. I guess I wrote it with my other Harvest Moon story in mind, but you don't have to read that to understand this prompt. I will never, never get tired of Ignis/Molly. :)
Posted with like ten minutes left of 1/1/2016. Eek.
Prompt: New Year's Day
The wind whirling around Mount Garmon's peak ruffles the feather in my hand, and the new light casts a soft glow on each light blue vane. I have only seen one bluebird in my life, and it was on this very mountaintop. I surprised it when I emerged from the top of the mine for the first time, and we shared only a second of mutual surprise before it took flight from the rock it had been perched on, leaving this token behind. That was long before he came, back when I only had a watering can and a bag of seeds to my name, back when I didn't know who I was, only what I had to do.
And then I brought god back.
He is golden before me, shining like the rising sun. I am still dazzled by him even though it has been a full year since I pulled him down from heaven to save the Goddess's Tree. Since then, my life has been painted with his presence. I can't remember a time when I didn't know the sound of his voice.
His arms uncross, opening himself to me. His haughty expression does not change as his eyes rise from the feather to meet mine. He has not refused me yet. Joy and jealousy burn in my heart, and I know I will not be at peace until he holds this feather in his palm. I take a step forward, and he does not back away. My cheeks tingle from his tangible warmth. Sometimes I think I can feel this divine heat even when I'm working the fields.
He has still not accepted the feather, but I won't be swayed. I move closer, and one of the flames that surrounds his body reaches out to me and slides across my jacket. I know he won't let it hurt me, but it might burn the feather, so I close my hand around it.
He will not refuse me. He came when I called, and did what I asked of him. He is the Harvest King and I am the farmer-what closer connection could there be? He has always been mine, and he knows it.
Silent, he looks away. I'm practically standing under his chin now. His flames encircle me, too. My skin glows almost as brightly as his.
"You do love me, don't you?" I whisper. It's the first thing I've said to him today. My voice cracks.
His ruby eyes close. Behind me, the sun breaks over the ocean of clouds surrounding the mountaintop.
Today is New Year's Day. The seasons loom before me, presenting all their challenges to my life and livelihood. Cold snaps in spring, storms in summer. A backbreaking harvest in the fall, followed by the bitter blight of winter. I might get sick. Some of my animals might die. My vegetables might not sell, my orchard might get uprooted by a passing typhoon. Day upon day of hard work and heartbreak, and then another new year will arrive, and another, and another.
But when the Harvest King closes both his hands around the feather in my hand and presses a kiss to the top of my head, I know that I won't have to face any of them alone.