Mabon: Harvest Mate.
Hermione watched from the other side of the river as members of the pack wandered around the orchard collecting apples. She'd been a member for the five years now and thought she knew all of the pack's traditions, but it seemed that every year there was a new one that she was only just now being introduced to. And this year, she was being introduced to Mabon, although like always, their enigmatic Alpha wasn't being very forthcoming when it came to explaining exactly what was going on. Even Dana her best friend wasn't being that forthcoming, but Hermione was trying not to let her frustration show.
"What's got your face so sour? The apples are all ripe you know," Quinn remarked as he threw himself on the ground next to Hermione.
"I'm not allowed to go across so I've not had an apple," Hermione pointed out with an unimpressed look. "Can you tell me what they're doing over there? And why I'm not allowed to go across?" she asked her friend, hoping that he would be brave enough to tell her what she was missing out on.
"It's the Mated Harvest," he told her with a shrug. "Basically, the members of the pack that believe they're ready to meet their mate go into the orchards to pick the apples and Mother Moon guides them to meet their mate. Mates will meet at the same tree and pick all the fruit together, but legend says that if mates meet at a tree and both of them immediately go for the same apple, then that couple is fated for a long a fruitful life and will achieve great things," Quinn told her, smiling when he saw the lovelorn look in her eyes. "You'll go across in a couple of years, don't worry."
"Does everyone that goes across meet their mate the first time?" Hermione asked, as she watched the couple weave in and out of the trees.
"Well, everyone has to get the permission of the Alpha to be able to go across. Alpha's tend to have this sixth sense about whether or not a wolf will meet their mate so he can encourage or dissuade them when needs be," Quinn explained to her with a comforting smile, knowing that the currently unmatched Hermione would worry about such a possibility. Little did she know that her future had been written in the stars many moons ago. "You'll be fine, don't worry and just enjoy what they bring back. The first harvest is always the sweetest. It's all that love that in the air," he told her, laughing when Hermione pushed him over at his cheap humour.
Fenrir stomped across the camp, his furry radiating of him in waves causing every pack member that came across him to bow their heads and quickly step away from him in reverence. It was rare these days for something to happen that would cause him to lose his temper, but hearing that a blight was predicted that had the potential to wreck their lives was certainly something that warranted his anger, especially when he was just informed by his Beta that the elders had known for months and failed to tell him, which meant that he was powerless to do anything! All the wolves in his care and he couldn't save them.
Eventually, Fenrir's angry steps brought him to the river, where he stood for the next couple of minutes and stared at the orchard on the other bank, desperately trying to come up with a plan to save what little of the crops he could in order to protect his pack. They had wheat in a far field that would provide bread for the winter, and they had some exceptional hunters and fishers amongst their numbers, but they had to be careful. If they over hunted and over fished then that would deplete their future stocks and they would be no better off than they were now. But that didn't help them when their main food supple, the orchard and the allotments, were the things in danger of blight.
How did he fix it?
"I think that you've scared half the pack into their cabins," a soft, gentle voice remarked from beside Fenrir. Looking across, he wasn't surprised at all to see Hermione stood next to him. If Fenrir took pleasure in the fact that he could easily scare most of his pack into hiding, he took greater pleasure in the fact that Hermione was the only one that would dare approach him when he was in such a state.
"Good, I can't think straight with them hovering," Fenrir told her, her presence already having a calming effect on his bad mood. "I don't know what to do," he admitted to Hermione softly, the only person he would ever show weakness to. "This harvest will in all likelihood be our last and in the spring the ground will more than likely not be able to hold any crops. If we don't do something, we'll starve," he told her, knowing that while she was young, Hermione was wiser than her years and would probably have some insight in what they could do to ensure their survival.
"Well, no matter what you decide to do, the first thing we should do is collect what apples we have left," Hermione pointed out with a smile before hopping over the stepping stones that lead to the other bank and soon she was long amongst the trees causing Fenrir to swear softly before chasing after her, trying to keep up with her by following the sound of her tinkling laughter as wove amongst the trunks and low lying branches. "You know, I always though the orchards were magical. Sitting on the opposite bank every year and watching as people found their mates, it all seemed so magical and romantic," he could hear her say. "I guess there's going to be whole generations that never get to experience it now if it's dying. It's a shame really that we couldn't save it. I would have loved to have met my mate here. Wandering around, picking fruit whenever it took my fancy, letting my feet guide me to that one perfect fruit and knowing that the person I'm destined to be with would feel the same compulsion until finally …" she told him, reaching up blindly to pluck another glossy red apple, only to come into contact with something warm and rough instead of the smooth surface of an apple. "… We meet," she added softly, looking up into Fenrir's golden eyes, feeling whole for the first time in her life, and finally understanding why Fenrir was never in a rush to let her enter the orchard over the years whenever she desperately came to him and begged him to let her into the orchard. He knew they were mated and knew that she wasn't ready yet, but now, she'd taken the decision out of his hands by crossing the stepping stones before him. "Maybe there's some magic left in the orchards after all," she told him with a soft smile as she treaded her fingers through his other hand, her thumb gently running over the old scars he had there from early transformations, while there other hands held the glossy red apple between them as they both hoped and prayed to Mother Moon that the orchard wouldn't die out yet and that they would survive the struggles ahead of them.
Smiling at the children the frolicked in the shallow stream leading off the river, Hermione couldn't help but marvel at the difference a year could make in the lives of the pack.
After the treat of a blight on their crops and after Hermione and Fenrir had collected the last bushel of apples from the orchards they made the decision to cordon off the orchard and let Mother Moon do what she must to the land. They'd set aside another plot of land to plant more vegetables and had come to an agreement with another near-by pack to exchange fish for fruit. The arrangement was working so successfully that they had decided to carry on even when the orchard began to produce fruit again as everyone had come accustomed to variety they received.
New food deals weren't the only new thing to happen in the last year. After they both grabbed the same apple, Hermione and Fenrir became inseparable when they returned from the orchard as they revelled in their new status as newly found mates. If she thought that she was happy in the pack before, Hermione knew now that what she felt then was but a fraction of what she felt now. She was in love and had never felt so loved in all her life, and she had an apple harvest to thank for it.
And to make it even better, was the fact that the orchards appeared to be healing, which meant that their children would also be able to go across one day and let magic and Mother Moon guide them their one true mate and they too, would feel what she felt now, she just had to remain patient. Placing her hand on her slightly swollen belly, Hermione knew that by the time their children were old enough, the orchard would be blossoming and bathed in magic once more.
There you, a little one-shot for the Autumn Harvest, Mabon. I'll hold my hand up and admit that this one was pretty hard to write, which is partially the reason I've returned to the Hermione and Fenrir pairing, but thankfully the whole wolf thing works brilliantly with the festivals of the Wheel of the Year.
Next up is Samhain, so I'll see you there.