Author's notes: Written for the Winter Whumperland challenge.
Day Two: Home Alone
Missed Holiday | ((Unhappy Family Reunion)) | ((Comic Relief Caretaker)) | Comfort: Home For the Holidays
I recently read the first comic with Anna, which helped inspire this.
Since her father disappeared, winter had become a hard time for Anna.
Not just because of the usual problems, like all the work that she now had to do by herself. At the first sign of rime, she remembered the ice that she had slipped on right before seeing the Beast. At the first snowfall, she remembered the storm that had hit as she arrived at the empty cabin.
On this particular night, Anna stepped out onto the porch for her daily check, and found an even more bitter reminder.
The air was cold. She glanced to her right and held up her candle, illuminating the chair beside the dark window; it was empty, as always, save for a few fallen leaves. In the old days, she would often come home at dusk and find her father sitting there, waiting for her return. Desperate to make sure that she got back before dark.
She wiped away the leaves, then turned toward the sky and saw it.
"The moon's corona violet-grey portends the winter's brutal fray."
She wished that her mother had never taught her that one. She had never even gotten any firewood that night. Her outing had only brought loss.
As she stared, she realized that the moon was exactly as it had been back then—not just the color but the shape, a shining half hanging at an angle above the dark portion. She saw a left half and a right half each month, but that peculiar slant...she had only seen it on the night when her father vanished. Just like she had never found the same path when she explored the woods during the day, or found any trace of his footsteps past the tree line.
Part of her believed that it was some other moon, hanging above a different forest, and that they had only bordered their homestead on that one terrible night.
She huffed quietly and went inside. Snow had been falling for the last two days, but it seemed now that a blizzard was on its way.
"At least this time I have plenty of firewood."
Anna slept fitfully that night, and sure enough she woke up to howling winds and nothing but swirling white outside the windows. She sighed. That meant she was stuck inside, where all she could do was think.
She cooked herself some breakfast, then tried to get some knitting done—she was getting better at it, but had never been as good as Mother. As she worked, her mind wandered. Her meager garden had been harvested, so the next milestone was Christmas. And while the whole of the winter was difficult for Anna...more so even than the autumn, summer and spring...Christmastime was a particular struggle. It was the first special occasion that has passed after her father's disappearance, and so it was a time when it was particularly easy to miss him.
No nuts and dried fruits would appear on Christmas morning, as they had since Anna's childhood. Her shoes would be as empty as her father's bed.
No bits of greenery or pretty streamers would decorate the cabin. Anna could have done it alone, but she knew they wouldn't add any cheer—only bring back sad memories.
No chicken or turkey for the holiday dinner, slightly burnt before Anna rescued it from her father's ill-treatment. She longed for such a small luxury, but she barely had two pennies to rub together, and it would be lonely eating the whole thing by herself.
It was that thought—remembering all the times that they had cooked together in the kitchen, him at the stove and her bringing in supplies from the gardens—that brought the strongest ache to Anna's chest. She dabbed her eyes with the half-darned sock in her lap.
Anna put aside her work and took a nap. Or rather, she lay in her bed and listened to the wind roaring outside, staring at the ceiling and trying to sleep. It could have been for an hour or longer, but eventually she drifted off.
When she awoke, the storm had stopped, and the view outside her window was dark. She gave a small moan, pushing the hair out of her face. She had slept all afternoon. Now she was in for another restless night.
The house seemed even quieter than usual, now that the wind had died. Her footsteps echoed loudly, and the fire, having died down to embers, cast eerie shadows onto the walls. She shivered, then went to throw another log on. Soon golden light filled the room, and she warmed herself for a moment, listening to the crackling fire and trying to banish her dark mood.
She didn't feel like making dinner. In fact, she didn't feel like anything. What she wanted to do was return to her bed and sleep forever.
With a sigh, she stood up straight, taking a candle from the mantlepiece. She lit it, then moved toward the door for her nightly check.
It creaked open. She glanced out, eyes moving instinctively toward the chair, and—
Her breath caught.
"Father?"
Her own voice sounded small and childlike to her ears. He stood up suddenly, a raspy gasp coming from his mouth.
For a moment, Anna was so surprised that she forgot to be happy. Then she truly realized that yes—he was there, standing a few feet away, with that strange half-moon floating over his shoulder and the snow falling softly on the ground behind him.
Anna felt tears burn on her cold cheek. For a few seconds, her mouth hung open. And then, for the first time in a long while, she smiled.