Title: The Right to be Merry
Timeframe: Pre-ANH
Characters: a shop keeper, a ghost, and a singing person...
Notes: This is for the Literati Christmas Christmas Roulette Challenge. My quote was #4: "What right have you to be merry?"
Someone was singing outside his shop as he swept the floor in the eve of Winter Solstice. It was an old voice, weathered by time, but to him it hadn?t lost any of its reverence or power. It had been a long time since he?d heard Solstice Carols...
He shook his head, wanting to complete his evening tasks so he could get out of here and be home with his family. Singing or no, there were still tasks to be done. "What right have you to be merry?" he wondered under his breath. "When there's so much..."
"What right don't they have?" a woman's voice asked suddenly, causing him to drop the broom. He stood there for a long moment... no, the singing hadn't stopped, nor had anyone entered without making a sound. Slowly, he turned to find a luminescent, translucent figure of a woman standing there. "Really, Tiny Tim. Everyone deserves a little merriment now and then... Solstice is just a good excuse."
"Who are you?"
She smiled. "A friend... of the singing one out there."
"Then why aren't you out there?" And why are you bothering me, he wondered.
"Wasn't needed out there," she told him with a shrug, smiling again at his confusion. "I couldn't help but notice your frustration." She sat down on the floor. "Sit?" When he didn't move to join her, she shook her head. "No one will disturb us while she's out there singing."
"Why?"
"Solstice carols are welcome in any form? especially in dark times."
He finally sat down next to her. "How did you know my name?"
"How could I not know? I'm a spirit."
Tiny Tim chuckled at that. She had a point...
Later, after the woman-spirit had left and he was closing up the shop for the holiday, he took a moment to listen to the old woman who was still singing. The tone hadn't changed, but now the song seemed to mourn. He bent down in front of her and looked her in the eyes.
For a moment, her gaze locked on his and she nodded. In those eyes, intelligence that belied the state of her clothes and her haggard appearance shone as clearly as a supernova. The moment seemed to stretch, and then she looked away again, as if it had never been.
He sat there on his haunches for a long minute, looking at her. So many stories in those eyes... shadows. She'd been singing outside his shop, providing passers by with a little comfort. It made sense now, what the woman-spirit had said. They all deserved a little merriment, indeed. "Thank you," he whispered as he stood up to continue on his way.
The simple nod he got in return was answer enough...
Fini