Naomi, Captain of the Valdemaran Guard

Naomi sat in her office in the southern Guard's winter quarters, feet resting on her desk and chair tilted back, a glass of that strong liquor the Herald had sent her in hand. She had just finished the final paperwork for the season, meaning the rest of her time till three days after Midwinter was hers to spend. Freak snow-storm a few weeks ago aside, there wasn't any road-clearing to do this far south and Ancar was huddled inside his borders for the season, while the bandits that remained were probably curled up in their holes trying to figure out what had gone wrong this year.

A fierce grin grew on her face – when this idea had been first presented to her, she had thought they'd get a few moons out of it before something happened and the whole arrangement ended in treachery and doom. But here they were, more than a full year later, and she could actually count a Captain of the Sunsguard as a trusted colleague. Ulrich had a good head on his shoulders and while she still hadn't met this Sergeant Greich that served as his de facto second in command, his Lieutenants were decent enough. Little young, but that was to be expected.

Her unit's morale was high – they hadn't taken many losses this year and they'd routed quite a few bandit raids and raided some more nests. They'd done their duty, above and beyond, and she'd rewarded with bonus pay out of the recovered wealth they'd been authorized to keep. Paid soldiers were happy soldiers, and happy soldiers were more inclined to keep their mouths shut as to the reason behind their successes.

If she could share this success secret with her colleagues she would, because it had made such a difference in this year alone. But it wasn't safe. Not for her and hers, and definitely not for those on the other side of the border. Spies for Karse may be few and far between here – kind of hard to convince people to spy on magical demon monsters after all – but they were there. And she didn't doubt that if even a rumor of cooperation reached that bastard Son of Sun there'd be fires to the south come morning.

At least with that Sunpriest on their side she could be reasonably certain the fires in question would be destroying the people sent after the 62nd and the unit in question would soon cross the border to join Valdemar, but it was not a fate to pursue. Those men had family over there, family and friends and they loved Karse, that was clear enough to see. Maybe not their priesthood – she shook her head at the memory of that Lieutenant talking about assassinating priests, call it a convenient accident if you would, but she knew what it was – but they loved their country. Forcing them to flee it would be cruel indeed, so if she could help keep the secret then she would, as long as she could.

It helped that she had a Herald she could point to as the source of most of the crazy ideas that came out of this arrangement. Why he felt the need to be across the border was beyond her; the disguise for the Companion was clever, but it was still a risk she'd never have taken. Dinesh was willing to shelter him and watch his back, the entire 62nd apparently willing and ready to keep him as one of their own, but she still worried.

The only reason she had agreed was because of his clear conviction that this would, somehow, help them against Ancar in the long run. How long the long run was, she didn't know, but the way things were going this war wasn't going to end for a few years yet, so he had some time to work on whatever plan they had going.

And it was a they, the priest would never have agreed to shelter him and she knew Ulrich would never have agreed to put his unit at that sort of risk if there wasn't a payout they all knew was coming.

Which meant it was going to be something utterly magnificent and she couldn't wait to see how it would all pan out. But in the meantime, she had a winter season to celebrate, a successful year to drink to and a future year to plot out.

Here's to those boys of yours, Sunlord, she toasted the foreign god with her foreign drink, and here's to another year's success.

Griffon, Herald of Valdemar

:Somehow this isn't quite what I thought he meant when he asked for a favor,: Griffon said wryly, packs double-stuffed with a ridiculous amount of objects. It was a good thing most of them were light and Harevis was a Companion or this would never have worked.

:Don't complain – cashing in one of those favors for deliveries on a route we were going to travel anyway is a very good thing,: Harevis snorted.

:I don't think this counts,: Griffon replied, :So I think I still owe them. And it's not like he asked for a specific debt or anything, it's just gift deliveries! It's rather nice, actually, I like being the Midwinter gift giver.:

:His family was very nice,: Harevis sighed wistfully, hooves chiming as they loped towards Haven. :They had very comfortable stables.:

:Well they're used to hosting Aelius, so that makes sense,: Griffon replied, :They seemed surprised to hear from Anur so soon – what was it his mother said, 'that's the third letter this year!'?:

:Indeed – and I'm pretty certain most of that letter was written by Father Kir,: Harevis whickered a laugh, :Which is funny, since Anur is the one notorious for making friends with anyone! You'd think he'd be a better correspondent.:

:Nah, he hates writing. He likes talking to people too much – when he writes something, he thinks about what they'd say in response and then responds to that and it ends up being some disjointed half-conversation written down. I've watched him write letters, it's pretty bad. Reports are better, for some reason.:

:Probably because they're formalized and not conversational – letters are supposed to be more casual.:

:I guess. Any ideas on how to get this stuff to the people in question?:

:You can probably just drop them off…:

:Harevis! It's supposed to be a surprise!:

:…I don't remember that part of the request.:

:Well no they didn't request it, but it'll be fun! Come on, they're Midwinter Gifts, you're not supposed to know what you're getting in advance, it's a surprise! Weaponsmaster Alberich shouldn't be too hard – if we time things right that is.:

:And how exactly do you propose we get gifts delivered to the Queen as a surprise?:

:…Talia? And then tag-team Skif?:

:Huh. That might actually work.:

Alberich, Herald of Valdemar

Alberich, formerly of Karse, was not accustomed to receiving Midwinter gifts. When he had first arrived in Valdemar he had no friends or friendly acquaintances for whom gifts would be appropriate – when he had people who would have given gifts or that he would have given gifts to, no Midwinter gifts was a habit. So if he found something that he wanted to gift to a friend, he would get it and give it to them presently, rather than try and make Midwinter some large gift-giving production. It was much less stressful that way.

Needless to say, he was therefore legitimately concerned by the presence of a series of brightly wrapped packages sitting on the table by his favorite chair. He had just returned with Kantor from the Midwinter's Day service at Haven's Temple of the Lord of Light and an afternoon tea with Father Gerichen, now a good friend of his. Myste was coming over to dine with him tonight and they were going to entirely avoid the mess that was Court in Midwinter, even in wartime.

Actually, the mess now was even worse, as the Royals were taking the opportunity of the slow season to hold the long-expected and already mostly treated-as-fact wedding between Prince Daren of Rethwallen and Queen Selenay of Valdemar. Despite their lifebonding and his Choosing, it had taken some time for either party to feel comfortable with the idea of matrimony – the last time Selenay had married had been his elder brother, and it had ended badly.

Ironically, one of their bonding moments had been when they discussed how the late and unlamented Karathanalen had tormented them when he was alive. Well, whatever made them happy.

:I have been asked to pass on the message that they are in fact gifts, not traps or weapons or poisons or whatever paranoid conspiracy you might believe them to be. That was a word for word message, by the way,: Kantor said, clearly amused. :They know you well, Chosen.:

:Who would send me gifts?: Alberich asked incredulously, sitting down and finally seeing the letter that had been hidden by the small pile. He didn't recognize the hand, though given Kantor's message, the delivery person, at the least, had been a Herald.

Heating a knife in the candle-flame, he peeled up the wax seal – a thumbprint, also unfamiliar – before unfolding the letter, written in two hands, and starting to read.

Hello Weaponsmaster!

Aelius and I have been spending a fair amount of time if not in Karse, then with Karsites, and have, as a result, found out about the spices and foods of the country, very different from what can be found in Valdemar. It occurred to us that you hadn't had anything like this in a long time, and given how amazing this spice-cake is, that's nearly criminal.

Seeing as Griffon was heading north for the winter, it seemed predestined. Hope you enjoy!

Anur

Herald Alberich,

It seems that in addition to writing letters to his family, I'm writing letters to everyone else as well. As Anur mentioned, he wanted to send you foodstuffs from home – I tried to talk him out of the spice cake as it doesn't travel particularly well, but he is obsessed with it and would not be dissuaded. We did our best with regards to packaging. There are tea mixes, labeled for their purpose – apparently the headache blend I developed is particularly effective – smoked meats with the usual spices, and some spice packets by themselves and prodka, naturally.

I hope I did not presume too much when I included a knot-work Sun-in-Glory – I haven't made as many as usual in the past years but I still average one or two projects a moon – meaning I am swimming in these things. Anur says he is fairly certain you are still a follower of Vkandis Sunlord (something about a window, apparently) but if not, just know that I offer no insult.

There are additional gifts in Haven that, unfortunately, you may be called upon to explain. In our defense, we found them amusing in addition to being worthwhile intelligence, so sent them on in the hopes of sharing the humor of the situation. If this disrupts your holiday, my apologies.

Sunlord protect and guide,

Kir Dinesh, Firestarter of the First Order

Alberich blinked at the letter – in mixed Karsite and Valdemaran, giving the entire thing a very odd appearance – before looking at the gifts. Opening them carefully, he was amused to find that the spice-cake in question had been triply wrapped in paper and an oddly sized Sunsguard uniform, and had retained its shape remarkably well.

A quick taste test proved it had retained its flavor even better.

Small bags labeled with tea mixes were neatly lined up along his mantle – headache teas were always welcome, and new blends doubly so. Smoked meat and cask of prodka he set aside to share with Myste when she arrived, while the last package was opened and unfolded to reveal a Sun-in-Glory emblem most certainly similar to the one he remembered Anur wearing around his neck, though large enough it was probably intended as a wall-hanging.

Fascinated by the differing knots and texture of the emblem, made entirely of red cord and rope, he passed a decent amount of time simply examining the craftsmanship, Kantor looking through his eyes and murmuring appreciative exclamations of his own every so often. Claim in the letter aside, he was certain this piece had been made specifically as a gift – maybe not for him in particular, but as a gift and a high quality one at that. There was no way that Dinesh was swimming in works of this size and quality – it seemed utterly impossible.

The peculiar knocking sensation indicating someone wanting to speak via mindspeech interrupted their examination.

:Alberich?: Selenay's mindvoice was unmistakable, undertones of amused confusion keeping him from worrying needlessly.

:Yes, Selenay?:

:What exactly is an Enforcer, why would I be approved as one, and is a cask of some sort of liquor and a half-crushed cake really a traditional wedding gift in Karse?:

What in Vkandis' name had they sent her?