A Snow White Festival

Valkyria Chronicles

Isara Gunther twirled happily around, her new mittens and snowcap making her body so warm and snug despite the endless white that surrounded her. Without warning, she attempted to speed off towards the hills filled with trees resembling large ice cream cones. However, a gentle tug on the back of her scarf was enough to crush those hopes. She turned around, a childishly perfect reproachful glare directed at the one who was ruining her fun. A tired smile was all she got in return.

She could not go out yet, after all, Welkin and Alicia had yet to get ready. Most likely due to the fact that she had insisted on piping hot sweet bread for the trip ahead, but Alicia looked as busy as she ever had even though the day was a holiday. Isara wasn't making things easier, either. She was responsible and mature for her age, but she still had those moments where she showed her obvious youth. When confronted with an endless sea of snow, more than she had ever seen before, it was no wonder that she was practically bouncing off the walls, raring to make a snowman, a snow angel, have a snowball fight, suck on an icicle, do whatever she wanted.

With her parents still getting prepared, then, it was down to the man standing behind her to keep a rein on her activities until they were ready. This was her "uncle." When asked to which of her parents he was related to, both Welkin and Alicia had simply stated that he was just a very close friend, but that Isara should think of him as her uncle, just like Aunt Rosie, Uncle Largo, Aunt Eleanor, and everyone else that came to visit. Isara especially loved when Isana, Aunt Rosie's daughter, came to play. They were practically best friends, even if they saw each other but once or twice a year. Aunt Rosie herself was fun, very lively and always teasing Alicia. To top it off she was an amazing singer, famous throughout the nation and all of Europa.

But…

Uncle Rhun was a little different than the others. It was not that he was unpleasant or scary, quite the opposite, but he just was… different. Even if Isara had known him ever since before she could remember, he had always struck her as unusual, even before she knew what the word meant. That didn't mean that she didn't have fun, but he was almost even more protective of her than her own parents were. The same could be said for Isana, as well. One time, while there was a reunion of sorts for Squad 7, Isara and Isana had gone out to play, unbeknownst by the parents. It was just their luck, then, that they ran into a serious Darcsen hater who, at the sight of even a child, acted in a more than rude manner. Isara being the way she was, even at that age, tried to scold him, which earned only more abuse. The man, practically foaming at the mouth, looked as if he wanted nothing more than to punish them severely for their assumed slights against him. This was, understandably, terrifying for the two girls who had barely been five-years-old. They hadn't an idea of what to do, however and just began to cry. It was then, after mere moments, that Rhun found them. He was a sturdy man who still was in his prime physically wise, so when he came careening in, practically ready to throw blows, the man decided it was time to flee. Despite, his obvious anger, however, Rhun stopped dead in his tracks when he was sure that the man was not coming back. It was clear that he wanted to murder the man, but the safety of Isara and Isana took priority. Still, Isara would never forget the look on his face. There was a mix of worry, relief, concern, so many different emotions at once, but the one that stood out above all others was that fear, that fear that they were not safe. Rhun was beyond happy that they had been okay, scared but safe nonetheless, but beyond that happiness was that shock that opnly could have come from a wound in his heart that can't be healed. Of course, such complicated thoughts were impossible for Isara to tangibly understand, but even so, she didn't want to know what expression he would make if either of them were put into serious danger and didn't make it out all right.

Even still, there was no way that she could overcome her excitement with all the snow on the ground. Rhun literally had to hold her back to prevent her from escaping into the trees. It wasn't a problem for him, however. On the contrary, simple times like this were the perfect medicine for his soul.

It had come as a complete surprise when Rhun received Welkin's letter, asking him to visit the family in Bruhl. It wasn't a letter that was anything out of the ordinary, just a friendly request from one friend to another. However, to Rhun it was something so entirely different. They had sought him out, which would not be all that amazing if it were any of the other comrades from Squad 7, but the only time before the letter that he had seen Welkin and Alicia was at her grave, five years after the war. They obviously had spent time trying to find him, trying to find the people that kept regular contact. That would have probably taken a lot longer than they had hoped, due to the fact that of all the members, only three, Zaka, Kreis, and Rosie knew where he lived. Or perhaps it didn't. The letter had arrived the autumn of that same year, barely two months after, so perhaps the first person they asked was Rosie. It would make sense. After all, there was a bond the between them that the two would always have, even if it was one they wished had never had to have formed. It was one that everyone knew of, but no one spoke of. Perhaps it was because of this reason that Rhun never thought they would go to her to ask about Rhun. They didn't want to bring up the memories, even if they were there on the surface already.

Rhun had always appreciated how the others had… handled how he acted after her death. Even if it had been through physical means, he always would be in Zaka's debt for getting that wake-up call. He would always appreciate Rosie's talks, and how Welkin kept his distance until Rhun himself was ready. When they had met again for the first time after five years… Rhun had appreciated the warmth they had shown upon seeing him. Meeting young Isara and, more of a surprise, Isana for the first time had both been blows, but at the same time wonderful. They, in their own ways, reminded him of her so much that it hurt. Isana back then had so much looked like a tiny version of her, all Rhun wanted to do was cry. Isara had the same name as her aunt, but would never know her, never know her touch. Both had changed in the years that followed. Isana was a singer, and Rhun thought that she would perhaps grow into one of the most beautiful voices that Gallia had ever heard. Isara was simply always cheerful, always ecstatic to be helping her mother out in the bakery, to go out bug hunting with her father (often getting lost, much to Alicia's chagrin). But both still seemed to have inherited something from her somehow. Rhun could see it every time he saw them. He did not know if, in the long run, it was healthy for him to keep visiting, but in the moment, he was happy, and he knew that was all that would have mattered to her.

Even if it was tiring, even vexing, even if he was scolding little Isara for being too impatient, he was still laughing, because there was nothing more enjoyable than being able to act like he was part of this family. To act like a real uncle. He had always wondered why, at their first meeting, Alicia had introduced him as such. He knew that Largo was called "Uncle Largo," but it made more sense, as Largo was far older than any of the others in Squad 7 were. People like Kreis who visited, apparently, on occasion, were simply called "dear friends". Rhun had wondered if it would have been better to be called as such. Most likely there were others that were called Aunt and Uncle besides Largo, Rosie and him, but he had never heard them referred to as such. It made him feel special, being called out through that letter had made him feel special, yet it also pained him a little bit. It gave him so many thoughts on "what-ifs." What if she had not died? Then he would have… hopefully… hopefully been a true member of the family, without any doubt. What if they had had a child? Then Welkin and Alicia would also have had a nephew or niece… perhaps both. But such thoughts were ones that Rhun had always tried to not think about. He had to keep looking forward. And at the moment, if he didn't, then a clever little girl would be running into the woods before he could say, "Don't you dare!"

It took about half an hour more than they had thought to get ready. Welkin was obviously fine with whatever Alicia wore, and just responded with, "You really look good. You look beautiful. Like a- (enter some sort of insect or animal detail)" no matter what she wore. This is how he had always been. She knew his feelings were in the right place, and that he no doubt loved her more than anything, but sometimes he needed to see the forest for the trees, and not the tiny bugs that lurked beneath.

"Welkin, I was thinking about wearing the new scarf you got me the other day, how does it look with this coat?" Alicia twirled a little bit, only to be met with a dazed look from her husband sitting in the chair in front of her. He had just finished a thank you card to the Potters, for the wonderful set of vegetable seeds that would provide a bountiful harvest the next season, hopefully. That should not have taken so long, but Alicia insisted he rewrite it four or five times. After all, the important part was not how many different types of interesting butterflies or bugs the plants would bring. The card originally was "Thanks for the plants, I'm sure they will produce a lot of delicious vegetables" (Alicia), and then… and then… a two page essay on the white lion butterfly, which (if it was read at all), was followed by, in Isara's shaky handwriting "Thanks, Uncle Largo! Could you give some chocolate seeds next time, too? Chocolate everyday!". Alicia thought that both of these… additions were unnecessary, but decided to force only Welkin to change his part. However it was, it was getting to the point where the card would be far too late for Alicia's liking, so even if there was some detail about the longhouse snail or some new insect that was all the rage for Welkin these days, she would have to put up with it.

Yeah, those go together really well. The blue and purple of the scarf make you look like a King's Butterfly!"

Even after all these years. Alicia couldn't help but laugh. Something like this happened all the time, but for some reason, this time just got to her. The peals of laughter she let out were contagious, but they were deflected by the sheepish smile Welkin gave in return. He wouldn't ever understand. "Well, I guess that's a Welkin Compliment for you, right?"

"The King's Butterflies are the most beautiful! The way they sit is so majestic!" Welkin was getting into one of his modes, so Alicia had to put him down gently.

"Welkin, Rhun is currently fighting for his life, keeping our daughter from escaping. Maybe we should go out to lend a hand?"

Welkin gave Alicia a solemn look. Rhun was one of the few areas where he always seemed to only give serious thought. Out of all the members of Squad 7, he was the one that seemed to have taken the most psychological damage. Even now, even thought it was more than a decade after the war had ended, more than a decade after Isara's death, he always had seemed the same as back then, at least his heart had stayed back there. Alicia was happy to have him around, but she was not so sure about him. It couldn't have been more than torture for him at the beginning. Alicia had been nervous the first time, because… they lived in the same house where Isara had grown up, it was filled with memories of her. Being in such an atmosphere was not healthy for him, yet he always came back and he never faltered in his exuberance and enthusiasm for whatever reason they had asked him to visit. Well, maybe until now… Alicia thought sheepishly. Certainly, he had been excited when they had told him that they were going to the Winter Festival in a neighboring town, but with little Isara raring to go, it was probably more like an owner fighting as his dog was tugging ferociously at its leash. He had to be tired. Welkin, even after having that look on his face, had probably thinking the same thing.

"We don't want our guest to be exhausted even before we get to the main event, after all." Sometimes he could say the right thing. If only any of them were ever directed at his wife. But, well it didn't really matter. They were happy, and they were a family. Nothing so silly like a wrong phrase would tear them apart.

After a serious bout that resulted in several bitten fingers and a stolen hat, Rhun had realized that holding little Isara back was the wrong tactic. Getting angry was also a bad choice. The only choice left, then, was simply to take the road she was going. They were halfway into their second snowman (which had followed a battle of "Who has the best snow angel") when Welkin and Alicia finally came out. In her hands, Alicia carried a basket filled with steaming loaves, from which a heavenly smell wafted to Rhun's nose. Isara seemed to be on the same wavelength, and instantly ran to her parents. The sweetness of the smell was hard to bear, but Alicia had warned them they would be too hot to eat right out of the oven, so it would be best if they ate when they were riding the railway, so as to prevent unfortunate burns.

The walk to the train station was pleasant, to say nothing of the various distractions that Isara's antics provided. All three of the adults were laughing, stiches in their sides, by the time they boarded. They had barely made it, however, as Isara's small size and relatively slow forward pace (due to her frequent running around the adults) were holding them back. It got to the point where Welkin had to carry her piggy-back style as they walked briskly towards the newly implemented station in Bruhl. The town, which still was not a city, by any means, had grown immensely after the war. Perhaps it truly was because of the Gunthers, or perhaps Alicia's famous bread, but there were more people living there then there ever had been before the war. The buildings that had fallen into ruin had been rebuild, the Sister Mills turning in the wind once more. It was a sight that would have brought tears to her eyes, Rhun was sure of it. To be able to see the town that she had grown up in, the town she had seen devastated back to how – no, better than how it had been before, she would have truly been overjoyed. To think that a place that had once been a ruin wasted by war would be such a bustling place only a decade later. Rhun gave a small chuckle as he stared out the window, giving Bruhl one last look as the train picked up speed.

In each passing year that he had come to this town, he had become more practiced in hiding those times when he felt that unbearable sorrow at the loss he felt. In was to the point where he himself barely felt it. But it was still there, lurking in the dark corners. There was no way, however, that he would ever show that type of face when Welkin and Alicia, or especially little Isara were around.

Rhun felt a tug on his coat sleeve. He looked to see Isara staring at him. "Uncle Rhun? What's wrong? Are you tired already?"

He tugged back at her, except on her cheek. "Whose fault do you think that is, brat? Nice to see you aren't jumping on the seat."

Little Isara just stuck her tongue out at him, before grabbing at a loaf from the basket her mother was carrying. Alicia, however, was far too quick for her. Even if she hadn't used her Valkyrian powers for over a decade, she was still quicker and had sharper eyes than mostly anyone. She lifted the box holding the food, and Isara's hands instead fell on her lap. "Isara, you have to ask before taking, remember?"

Isara adopted a serious look on her face, something that looked far to mature for her young age, as she nodded seriously. "I understand, mommy. I promise I won't take your bread without asking, ever, ever, ever again. Serious."

Alicia giggled at this, and took out the bread with the most honey drizzled on top. She started to hand it to her daughter, who grabbed at it eagerly, but it ended up in Rhun's surprised mouth. He could barely breath as the still piping hot bread got shoved down his gullet, so much so that he could barely appreciate the delicious taste as he struggled to swallow the first bite. But, it really was delicious. The bread was fluffy and had just the right texture, and the honey was crystallized so that it gave a satisfying snap as one bit into it, but soft enough so that it still dissolved as one chewed. He was onto his third bite, when he noticed the small figure next to him attempting a sneak attack. He simply ducked forward, as the little girl swiped through the air. A clean miss! He rolled back up, and popped the last of the bread into his mouth, smiling widely in victory. "That was amazing. Thanks, Alicia."

"You bet! I was hoping you'd like it. It's a slightly different recipe than I used the last time you were here."

"I think I noticed it. A different type of honey?" Rhun had always been interested in the way Alicia made her breads. There simply was no comparison wherever he went. There were others that were beginning to think the same way, he thought, as there were always customers at Alicia's bakery, even those that seemed to have traveled a long way, only to go there. If he remembered right, Miss Ellet, the reporter who had so closely followed Squad 7, even becoming a friend, did a small review of it, giving high praise. To be able to enjoy such taste for free was something to be truly thankful for. … When there wasn't an annoyed child trying to get back at you for "eating her bread", that is. As Rhun made conversation with Alicia, he was pinning Isara's arms against her own leg, to make sure she couldn't swat at him again.

That was how the trip went. It was just simply fun, filled with conversation and silliness. It was how a family trip should be. If only she had been able to be here to experience it as well.

There was already a large crowd when they got to the festival, which was only a short walk from the train station. Or that is, the outskirts of the festival reached to the block just in front of the building. Even though there was snow on the ground, there were still booths and food stalls lined up around the streets, and the lively atmosphere belayed the freezing weather. Besides the food stalls, and the various other shops lined up, there was the real show. It was said that the idea came from the eastern empire, where once, long ago in the past, an Emperor had built a palace entirely out of ice, a sight that was more beautiful than anything else in the world. Rhun could believe it. If the sculptures that he passed by were anything like what that Emperor had seen, then it would truly have been a place fit for the gods.

"It's really beautiful, isn't it, Isara?"

The little girl gave a happy "Un!" before pointing to a particularly large sculpture, one of a flower. "Do you see the ladybug on that?"

"Huh?" taking a closer glance, Rhun realized that there was indeed a carved ladybug sitting on one of the flower petals. "Yeah, it's cute. Impressive that they were able to make something with such detail."

"Ehehe, I bet Papa will want to take a picture of it." Isara immediately turned to tell Welkin. She was met with a dense crowd of people, with neither of her parents in sight. "Papa?"

"…" Rhun closed his eyes.

"Papa?"

"…" Rhun shook his head in resignation.

"…" The silence was overwhelming. Even in the sea of people, where there were a thousand conversations and noises happening, the tension from Isara was palpable. Rhun sighed. While he figured that the both of them should have gotten used to Welkin's antics, it just was not good form to leave your daughter stranded. Well, sort of stranded. Shaking his head, Rhun could only lament the fact that he was being treated like a nanny by his old friends.

"C'mon, let's go grab a bite to eat and then search of them."

"Okay." Isara sniffed a little bit but brightened up with the prospect of festival food. The smelling of fried goods was enticing, and she was well aware of her uncle Rhun's habit of spoiling her. One could practically see the mental checklist she was making of the different treats she was going to get him to buy for her.

With all of the different shops, it was obviously impossible for a child to choose just one place. Luckily, Rhun's pockets were not as light as they usually were, so he could afford at least a few treats. Maneuvering through the crowd of people, holding Isara's hand tightly, he was almost reminded of that time long ago that he himself had been dragged along by her. The roles are reversed this time, though… Rhun thought, then quickly pushed it away. The one thing he had promised himself was that he would never try to remember those times when this child was around. He would always have a smile on his face. There was no reason to bring such grief upon her. Fate, however, never agreed with Rhun.

"Oh! Those treats look like little people! What fun!" Isara's little gasp of delight brought him back to his senses. She was shaking his arm, pointing at a small stand. While other stalls nearby had many customers, this one had visibly worse business. This was due to, as Rhun saw, the fact that it was run by Darcsens. An older woman and someone who could have been her son were sitting there, in the cold. Since he had stayed with, and met many Darcsens, this was not enough to cause any form of pain, but the treats, on the other hand, were a little too much. They were, after all, modeled after the Darcsen Luck charm, so similar to the one that was snugly sitting in his pocket. His eyes misted, he began to pull away, only to be stopped by the little girl by his side. "I want one! They smell so good!"

The pair of Darcsens were obviously attempting to seem like they hadn't noticed them, but Rhun could feel their want of a customer. How the world had changed. While it was still uncommon, to see Darcsens being able to sell their wares, even if poorly, in a city was a wonderful sight. It was exactly what she would have wanted to see, herself. Walking slowly, keeping as calm as he possibly could, difficult because of his raging emotions, as well as the tugging at his arm, he made the short way to the stall. "Ah…"

The pair stared at them. Rhun's words had caught in his throat, and Isara, never one to wait when faced with such a treat, spoke for the both of them. "Two of the little people, please!"

The little people. Rhun choked. It was so characteristic of her, so different from her namesake that he could not help but laugh. The Darcsen woman just smiled pleasantly, but it was obvious that the man was displeased. Perhaps there had been other people posing as customers that had harassed them in a similar manner. Isara seemed to be oblivious to this but Rhun was not so. He bowed in apology to them. "I'm sorry. I'm sure that she means she wants two of the cookies."

This was obviously not what either of them had been expecting him to say, and they could only just silently pick out and wrap two of the sugar-coated cookies and pass it over to him. "That will be 5 ducats, please."

Rhun passed the money over and gave the cookies to Isara, who instantly tore into them. Unable to stop her, he could only watch as she bit into both treats at the same time. "So good! So sweet!"

Rhun just sighed exasperatedly. Of course, it might have been for the better. After all, he might not have been able to bring himself to eat it. Seemingly realizing what she had done, Isara held out one of the half eaten cookies to him. Shaking his head, Rhun pushed it back at her. "You don't want it?"

Rhun hesitated, but then answered truthfully. "I just don't think I can eat it."

"Why? It's so yummy. Look, the hair is made from crystallized fruit!" Her loud proclamations were beginning to gain some notice from those around them. There obviously had been some others who had wished to go to the stall, but were uneasy about being noticed. However, Rhun had noticed several others lining up to the stall after they had gone. This was good for two reasons, the more important being that the Darcsens were probably not listening in on their conversation, at least not closely.

"I'm… sure it tastes good, but it looks like you really like them, so you can have both of them." This was about as convincing of an argument he could muster up at the moment, especially when talking to a seven-year-old.

"Mmm… I'll save you one!" the little girl said cheerfully, wrapping one of the small halves back into its napkin. Well, she would probably get hungry within a few minutes and eat it when she thought he was not looking.