A/N: A prompt! Fabul. Snowmen. Edward and Yang's family.
I've been sitting on this one for a while, honestly. Perhaps as far back as October...now the weather has finally cooperated and given me proper inspiration! What would happen if Spoony encountered snow...for the first time...
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Keeping Up Appearances
Edward was dressed more extravagantly than he was used to, done up in epaulets, lengthy cuffs with ruby studded links, boots with wooden heels, and trousers that were light and airy and flowed when he walked. He felt like an elegant peacock—which was not what he enjoyed—but Damcyan had always been a kingdom of high fashion and trade. They were the merchanting capital of the world, and his newly appointed advisors—who, in all actuality, had been his father's—insisted that he display Damcyan's status as such in his dress.
"I am not of this ilk," Edward insisted as he was trundled off in the airship they had leased from Baron some months before. Again, for appearances. The nation that had been so utterly throttled by the Red Wings and been burdened with a king who was, by nature, frail and introverted; meant that they did everything in their power to extol their status as a powerful force of culture and fashion.
Which meant Edward would be arriving in Fabul in style—regardless of the fact that Yang had little interest in outward appearances.
Edward had been dressed for late autumn, but not for mid-winter, and when he arrived in Fabul, the first flakes of a winter storm were falling. The crystal of wind was tempestuous, and Edward had spent many a year writing songs to capture the ferocity of the winds that howled across Mount Hobbs at particular times of the year. He had not expected to be in the midst of one such tempest, truly.
He was welcomed into the inner sanctum of Fabul's court, and Yang was waiting for him.
"King Edward!" the other king greeted him, politely welcoming those in Edward's party and having his servants lead Edward's ferriers and advisors to their accommodations.
"King Yang!" Edward greeted back, bowing cordially. By the time he'd straightened, Yang had lifted him off the ground in a bear hug.
Was it politick? No. But they had known each other long enough for it to be familial.
"Your garments are quite fine as usual," Yang said with a wry smile, while his wife Meiling slipped in from the side to curtsy for their guest.
Edward smiled at Meiling who had been trying for years to perfect a regal bearing. Once the servants had left the room, she broke into a wide smile, scandalizing the effect, and a six year old Ursula jumped out from behind the throne with a triumphant yelp.
"It's supposed to snow tonight!" she cried, hopping around her weary parents, her blonde hair swishing around her head in all directions.
Edward's expression turned grim. "Snow?" he asked in a small voice.
Yang laughed heartily. "Certainly you've heard of the mythical substance!"
Edward appeared sheepish. "Heard of, yes, but never experienced."
Ursula's eyes went wide as saucers. "You've never seen snow?"
Edward's internal temperature was rising just as swiftly as the outdoor temperature was dropping. "I come from a desert, you see."
"Dad!" Ursula petitioned her father.
Yang looked at his daughter and smiled. "I don't believe there's any getting out of this, Edward," Yang informed his friend.
"I'm not really dressed for such an occasion," Edward protested.
"We can dress you in some of our winter clothing," Meiling assured him.
"Can we forestall this foray into winter until another time?" Edward inquired.
Yang laughed, patting the other king on the back. "It won't be worth the trouble to go out into it tonight. Tomorrow is when the weather will be at its best."
"You've traveled for hours, certainly you would like to share a meal with us?" Meiling said, inviting Edward to the dining hall.
They bantered about the usual things at dinner, avoiding political discourse and economics, and stuck to the things that were most important to them—family and home.
"Will you sing us a song?" Ursula beseeched Edward afterwards, and with an expression so pathetic, how could he resist the six-year-old?
He cleared his throat and dug into his memory for a song appropriate for the cold and dreary evening.
He found one about a princess who was tricked out into a storm by an evil elf, and on her journey, she was given a test of three things she had to do before she would be shown the path to safety.
"What did she have to do?" Ursula insisted, only to be shushed by her mother.
Edward smiled while he sang his ballad, and elaborated on the tale. "Three trials had she, fair maiden, true and bold. To light a flame, to guard a parcel of gold, and to dig a cave with her hands."
"Did she?" Ursula wanted to know.
Edward grinned. "The princess knew something of magic, see, and in her hands, she lit a fire. The fire defied the tempest, glowing bright and strong, and its light guided her through the snow and wind, across a frozen field, and up a hill, steep and dangerous."
"What about the gold?" Ursula asked.
"Ah, the gold," Edward sang. "A band of imps accosted her, each petitioning for a portion of her gold. One promised to lead her through the storm, but she refused. One promised to offer her protection, but she refused, knowing a thing or two about imps; and the third imp offered to build her a shelter to keep her warm until the storm ended. Again, the princess refused. She chose to continue on afoot, with only her steady flame to guide her. The imps faded into the west wind, and the princess carried on."
"And the cave?"
"The snow continued to whip around her, and with the sun long asleep, she used the fire in her hands to dig a hole in the snow that was deep enough to shelter her. Thus, she had dug a cave with her hands."
"And then what did she do?"
"She kept the entrance to her cave away from the wind, and there she spent the night."
"She completed her three tests, so did the elf hold up his end?"
"By the time morning dawned, the storm had ended, and the princess left her cave with her sack of gold. As luck would have it, a prince on a white chocobo came riding by and saw her. He saw that she was fair and noble and in need of assistance, and he offered to lead her to safety. Together, they returned to the border of her kingdom. But a curious thing had happened—the prince was loath to part with her, so enamored by her beauty and boldness, that he invited her to come to his kingdom instead. Eager to see the world beyond her home, the princess agreed to go with him. In time, they grew to love each other. The gold, she offered as her dowry. They were wed, and lived happily ever after."
"I was hoping she'd use the gold to bash over the elf's head," Ursula said unhappily.
"Ursula!" her mother scolded, but Edward could tell it was only a half-hearted reprimand.
"Off to bed with you," Yang told his daughter. "And no evil elves for you tonight, are we understood?"
Ursula gave each of her parents a hug and a kiss and was sent on her way.
Edward stretched and looked at the roaring fire in the hearth. The winds whistled through the flu and made him wonder if there were any winter spirits afoot.
"You will find your quarters well heated and your bed turned down," Meiling told him, as they parted ways for the evening.
Edward was led by a servant to the rooms he usually kept when he visited Fabul, and found another fire burning in a fire place with warm blankets spread atop his bed.
He fell asleep to the wind howling past his window and snow beating against the glass.
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By morning, the storm had passed, but the snow it had left behind, clung to every surface of the city.
Edward's window was plastered shut by the white substance, and it took all his strength to shove the double panes outward and the snow off the adjoining ledge.
A stiff wind swirled in, blowing the lighter snow into the room and also into Edward's face. He hastily shut the window again, not accustomed to air with such bite.
Through the window, he surveyed a scene unlike any he'd ever seen. It was magical—ethereal, a thing of beauty, and a work of art. It was also terribly unpleasant, and he shook the melting snow off his night clothes.
A bright knock came at the door, and he opened it to find Ursula swaddled in wool with peculiar booties wrapped and tied to her feet.
"Are you ready?" she asked, sounding eager to be out in the cold, wintery wonderland.
Meiling appeared a few minutes later, standing behind her daughter and holding a bundle of thick clothing.
"These will keep the cold at bay."
Edward unfurled heavy trousers made of tightly knitted wool. He accepted the rest and retreated to his room in order to change, and emerged in all of his borrowed clothing feeling as though he was going to boil in his skin.
"Come on!" Ursula goaded him, grabbing his hand and yanking him down the hallway.
They exited the west wing's corridor onto the keep's curtain wall. A narrow foot path had already been carved into the snow by the guards, no doubt, and Edward sucked in a sharp breath as the cold air needled the exposed skin on his face.
"This is the best snow!" Ursula was exclaiming, grabbing a handful of the wet substance and mashing it together in her hands.
Edward had taken a moment to survey the parapets and fortifications, and was unprepared for a snowball to strike him directly between the shoulder blades.
He turned around and made an exasperated face at Ursula. She held her arms out wide. "You're supposed to dodge!" she happily instructed him.
Edward hesitantly dug his hands into the snow and molded a ball of snow into a perfect globe. Somehow, he didn't feel comfortable throwing it at a child, and so he threw it down the length of the walkway instead.
"Now try this!" Ursula announced, bending down to scoop an armful of snow into a mound. Once she had a mound of acceptable size, she began to push it like a wheel, until it grew larger and larger and eventually became too large for her to push any longer. Edward watched in fascination, never knowing that snow could be manipulated like wet sand.
When she had decided it was an acceptable size, she stood back and admired her work. "Now I'll make another one!" she announced.
Edward made a few more snow balls and threw them at the walls where they burst into powdery splatters, amused at the simplicity of such a game.
"Help me lift this!" Ursula insisted after a few minutes.
Edward turned and saw the little princess trying to hoist her second boulder on top of the first she had made.
"What are you building?" Edward inquired.
"A snow princess!" Ursula happily answered, moving a little to the side to give him room to help.
Edward was baffled. He had heard of "snow men", but he'd always thought they were a practical joke when someone decided to cover oneself in snow and walk around. Suddenly that thought seemed very illogical.
"A snow princess?" he repeated, helping her stabilize the second boulder into place.
"Well if I was the princess in the story, I would have told her to battle the elf and keep the gold for herself and give it to her people," Ursula stated matter-of-factly.
Edward laughed, knowing how Ursula took after her mother.
"Besides, everyone knows you're not supposed to stay outside during a snow storm," she informed him.
Edward smiled with a shiver, as he helped her smooth and shape the boulders into a more human-like shape.
"She should have been wearing boots and a coat at least," Ursula decided, staring up at the body of her snow princess and then bending down to scoop enough snow into a shape for a head.
As a stiff wind whipped across the parapets, Edward thought his knees might buckle for the cold. But the monks guarding the towers seemed unaffected, and the winter air had done nothing to damper Ursula's spirits, so he felt foolish for mentioning his discomfort.
Ursula continued to assemble her princess, drawing embellishments like buttons on the body with her gloved fingers. Edward's teeth began to chatter, as he imagined wearing the fine clothing waiting for him in his guest quarters. What had his advisors been thinking, he wondered. Ursula, in the meanwhile, festooned her snow princess with a warm scarf. He had to laugh at how vanity served so little purpose in the real world. Delicate silks and prints and patterns might mean something about wealth and status, but you couldn't survive in most elements wearing anything of the sort.
Edward was beginning to lose the feeling in his toes, when he pondered the morality of the tale he had told the night before. What manner of evil elf would make a princess go into such weather? Now he could understand Ursula's sentiment for bashing the elf over the head with all the gold.
"Edward?" Ursula asked, shaking his arm.
He gazed down at her, chattering and shaking, and realized that she was holding his hand. He stared at his fingers reproachfully, wondering why they wouldn't obey him, as Ursula made a face of great concern.
"You're turning blue," she said.
He smiled pathetically. "Not—n-not u-used t-t-t-t-o the c-c-cold," he sputtered out.
Ursula laughed and pulled him toward the entrance of the west wing. "If you were the princess in the story—you never would have survived," she giggled.
"N-no, I would not," he admitted ruefully.
"It's okay, though, because you have a princess to rescue you!" she said happily.
Edward laughed, then, seeing how the tale had been reversed.
"I'll take good care of you," Ursula declared, pulling him along the carpeted hall as they tracked snow into the castle. When they reached his quarters, Ursula stopped and looked up at him, screwing her face into an uncertain expression. "This doesn't mean I have to marry you, does it?"
Edward stared at her, struck dumb. Then he burst into laughter. "No, no," he assured her, and she visibly relaxed. "Though, perhaps I could learn a thing or two about snow by coming to visit more often."
"You should see how pretty the city looks when the snow reaches the tops of the doors!" Ursula said, delightedly.
Edward grimaced. "Maybe not quite so often."
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A/N: This had started off going in one direction, and then ended in another. I really do enjoy writing Yang's family, though, and decided to see where it would end up :)
Hope you enjoyed it, and thank you for reading!
~Myth