Ronja wrinkled her nose. She stood with her arms crossed over her chest, and looked displeasedly at the baking tray with Christmas cookies: instead of the golden brown cookies, for some reason they turned out to be almost black.
- What does it smell like here? - Pippi shouted joyfully from the doorway. She casually opened the window so that the swirling black smoke found its way into the street, went up to Ronier and stood behind her. Then she wrapped her arms around her waist and kissed her cheek. Ronja grunted softly, and Pippi immediately realized what was wrong, grabbed a cookie from the baking sheet and quickly put it in her mouth.
"Mmmm, very tasty," Pippi smiled biscuits, smiling. Ronja gave her an incredulous look.
- Listen. Let's cover them with sweet icing and no one will notice that the cookies come out a little harder than necessary. Or we can deceive everyone and say that they simply got tanned, because they rested on the island of Kurrecurredut. There is the sun! Is going?
And Rony's discontent vanished, Pippi dispelled it as easily as Frosty Grandfather blows snowflakes from spruce branches.
"Let's cheat," she agreed with a smile and kissed Pippi on the corner of the freckled mouth.
The snowdrifts that winter had so high that they almost reached the windows. Ronja walked along the path that the deer trod on to a high birch at the very edge of the yard. Pulling the mittens out of a bear's skin and wincing from the cold that was pinching her nose, she began to hang bird food on the branches. Last night, Pippi attached a red lantern with a candle to an empty birdhouse, saying that the tits also needed light on a dark winter night. Ronja involuntarily smiled, remembering this conversation.
- Done! Pippi's sonorous voice broke the frosty silence. Ronja tied the last piece of fat to the bitch and turned to the house.
- Well, how?
Pippi sat on the pipe and waved her hands contentedly. Hundreds of red, green, blue and gold lights shone along the edge of the roof, framed windows, a terrace, hung from the balcony. The entrance door was decorated with three Christmas wreaths of different sizes, another Pippi attached to the pipe. Four socks dangled from the drain, with a dozen colorful balls and a huge chimel that swayed slightly in the wind.
- You think that's enough? Ronja shouted, waving her hand toward the house. Pippi smiled broadly.
- Well, actually I was just starting, but then I thought that I should leave a little for the Christmas tree.
She laughed and threw a snowball at Ronja. From surprise, she stepped back and, laughing loudly, stretched out in a snowdrift.
Deep darkness fell over the forest. Only stars flickered faintly in the sky and a tiny little light jumped up and down - it was Pippi with a lantern in his hand making his way along the path marked by snow into the depths of the thicket. The cold wind slipped between the trees, pinched behind the ear, and Pippi pulled her hat deeper. Ronja hurried after her, and the snow creaked under her boots. The robber's daughter felt at home among silent spruce trees, under a star carpet spread out above. Everything here reminded her of her native land, of the old dilapidated castle in the forest where she grew up.
Pippi stopped so suddenly that Ronja nearly crashed into her.
- Will this fit? Asked Pippi, pointing to a slender Christmas tree sticking out nearby. Ronja looked appraisingly at the tree and raised her eyebrow slightly.
- But not a bit tall?
But Pippi had already jumped into the snow, falling to her knees, and resolutely headed in that direction.
"No, of course, I'll come up with something." You will see! She announced and looked back at Ronja. She nodded, laughed, shrugged, and followed. She didn't doubt for a second: one way or another, and Pippi would get this particular tree to stand in the Chicken Villa's hall.
Pippi, the strongest woman in the world, broke a spruce with one hand and put it on her shoulder. Ronja collected the cones to decorate the wreaths on the front door.
"You go, I'll catch up," she said, and Pippi, whistling joyfully, quickly walked along the path back to the house.
After waiting for her to hide from view and her steps to dissolve in the night darkness, Ronja spread her arms and collapsed back forward into the pristine whiteness. Flakes of snow flew into her face, but Ronja only smiled even wider. She lay, looked at the North Star, which winked at her between the spruce branches, and barely audibly purred an old bandit song.
Ronja even opened her mouth in surprise, shaking off the snow from her boots and entering the house. A round hole appeared in the ceiling of the room, and a tree standing in the middle of the room passed right through to the bedroom. Sawdust slowly fell from the ceiling, spinning in the air.
- Beauty, right? - between the branches seemed happy face Pippi. Ronja could not help laughing. She nodded, went to the tree, and, resting her hands on her hips, gave her a sharp look.
- Not that word. Well, have you started decorating?
Ronja hung on the branches small figures of animals that she had carved from a tree, and dry cones. Pippi adorned the Christmas tree with everything that came to hand - colorful socks, scarves, hairpins, sweets, silver spoons, braided laces and pearl earrings that once belonged to her mother. Conclusion Mr Nilson's straw hat, set on the top of his head, was the finishing touch.
"Great," Pippi said proudly, and flopped down on the bed. - And now we can admire the Christmas tree both in the bedroom and downstairs in the hall. Cool, huh?
Ronja nodded and sank down beside her. She had never seen such a strange spruce, but she really liked it. In Matthias Castle, all the Christmas trees were the most ordinary, boring and almost without decorations - nothing special.
"Next year you will bring the tree," Pippi smirked and kissed the thick mop of her hair. Ronja grinned back.
- Then the tree will be very small. Such that climbed into the room of Mr. Nielson.
Rony splashed water on the hot stones and leaned back on the warm wall. The heat spread pleasantly over the naked body, tired after she cleaned the snow for several hours in a row. She closed her eyes, but her lips sprawled into a smile as her familiar hands touched her bodies. Pippi sat down on her knees, and the smell of mint was barely perceptible in the air.
They kissed. Then again, and again, until the last remnants of the steam disappeared into the ajar door and dissolved in the frosty air.
- Ready? Whispered Ronja between kisses. Pippi laughed softly.
- Not. But if you have the courage, then so do I.
Without releasing Pippi's hand, Ronja led her across the threshold of the bathhouse on a winter evening. Cold skin poured over the heated skin, and they hurried down the path to the frozen lake, and the full moon looked at them from above.
Ronja did not linger on the shore. She jumped into the dark water while running, while Pippi looked at her indecisively as if she were crazy.
- Come on, I'm not going to wait all evening! - shouted Ronja, scooped up icy water with her palm and splashed on Pippi.
"Okay, okay," she answered, finally sitting on the edge of the ice-hole and sinking into the water. She immediately screeched loudly from the cold, and both laughed so loudly that their voices probably reached the nearest village.
Christmas Eve at Villa "Chicken" was full of trouble. Pippi was packing her last presents while Ronja was cooking a festive dinner in the kitchen. An old radio on the mantelpiece played Christmas hits a century ago, and Ronja heard Pippi loudly, but falsely whistles to the beat.
"I would like to give you a musical ear for Christmas," she smiled when Pippi, having finished her presents, came to her kitchen.
"And why do I need such nonsense?" - Pippi shrugged and looked out the window. In the courtyard, large round snowflakes fell lazily from the sky, covering everything with a white fluffy blanket. Then she straightened up, hugged Ronja at the waist and put her cold fingers under her woolen sweater.
- Will you help to set the table? Ronja asked when everything was finally ready.
The fire crackled softly in the fireplace, the candles on the tree shone softly when Pippi, patting his stomach, sat down under a tree next to a small hill of gifts. Ronja filled a mouthful of chocolate, collapsed into a large red chair in the corner, and began to watch Pippi joyfully sort through the bags.
"And you were a good girl this year," she said, throwing Ronier alone. Ronja smiled softly: her father would not agree with this. A pair of long, to the knee, woolen socks was found in the bag, one was decorated with a pattern of Christmas trees, and the second was made of blueberries, which she loved so much.
- Do you like it? - asked Pippi, looking at her from under the tree with burning eyes. Ronja pulled on her socks - which were a couple of sizes large, but what's the difference? - to your feet.
- Perfect. Thanks Pippi!
She also received as a gift a new hat, a kilogram of toffee, which Pippi made herself, and a hunting knife. And Pippi was overjoyed, because she got a mug carved from wood and mittens from alpine wool.
The clock on the wall struck twelve. Ronja took Pippi by the hand, hugged her, pressed closer to her. They lay on the floor, on a large carpet in the middle of the hall, near the tree itself, amid scraps of gift paper and candy wrappers. Ronja felt tired, but incredibly happy. She stroked Pippi's soft cheeks with her thumb and counted her freckles, straying all the time.
"Merry Christmas," Pippi whispered, not opening her eyes.
Ronja smiled, kissed her on the tip of her nose, and again laid her head on her shoulder.
"Merry Christmas, Pippi."