Chapter Text
Tatiana’s shoes are falling to pieces, and it is unacceptable. It’s unacceptable particularly because the weather is getting colder, and there is snow on the ground. It’s no longer the spring or summer, where she can frolick about the village in bare feet like a nymph, skirts fluttering in her hands as she moves freely, her cares and worries set aside somewhere while she enjoys herself.
Yeah. She can’t do that anymore. Even if Zeke likes it.
“My boots are just fine,” Tatiana says confidently over dinner one evening.
Zeke leans over the table. “Tatiana, I don’t know if-”
“Listen, I’ve had those snowboots for probably three years now? Since I turned seventeen, I think.” She looks to the ceiling, as if she’s trying to remember, then shrugs and goes back to the meal. “Point is, they’ve served me well for a few years now, and-”
He tunes her out as he cuts into his own food, because ah, now he knows the problem. Call him spoiled or wasteful, but one pair of winter boots, well-worn nearly every day there is snow on the ground, shouldn’t last more than two years. Of course, Tatiana is a frugal person with little money, so of course she won’t admit to the fact that her boots are falling apart and she needs new ones.
“You’re not listening to me, are you?”
“Oh, no. Not at all.”
“I’m going to eat all of your dessert, because you’re being rude.”
“What a nightmare.”
“You’re terrible.”
Zeke finds a pair of boots when he goes to the market next, and instantly, he knows that they are perfect. They’re sitting in the window of a shop right next to the bakery, and he sees them while leaving and trying to keep out of the way of the people bustling through the streets. He tries to ignore them at first, because he’s already spent a lot of money on food for dinner, but his eyes keep going back to them.
They’re nice. Very nice, he notes when he steps a little closer to window shop. Black, heavy soles, trimmed and lined with white fur. The laces are red ribbon, and even though he knows it’ll just get dirty, he reasons that they can trade it out for proper shoelace. They’re beautiful shoes, and before he knows it, he’s inside the shop and checking to see if they’re as sturdy as they look.
To his dismay, they are, and now the temptation to buy them tugs on him harder. He reasons with himself, remembers that Tatiana said her shoes were fine, but they aren’t. They’re scraps at this point, hardly any coverage at all, and he doesn’t fancy her climbing into bed with frozen feet and teasing him by putting them up against his legs.
He hates that. So much.
They’re expensive: A gold mark and twenty silver. One last time, he desperately tries to convince himself to leave it be, but-
“What’s in the box?” Tatiana asks when he gets home.
Zeke sighs and sets the rest of the shopping down, holding the box––white, tied with a fluffy red ribbon––sheepishly. “Most of my pocket change for the next month.”
“What?”
He gives a pointed look to her scrappy boots by the door, then back at her. “Listen, you cannot keep wearing those awful shoes. You’re going to get frostbite!”
Tatiana frowns, throws a dishtowel she’s holding over her shoulder, and puts her hands on her hips. “You went out and wasted money on shoes?”
“It’s not a waste,” he protests. “What, are you just going to wear those old boots until they literally fall apart? Because I guarantee, that’ll happen sooner than later, and then you’ll need new ones. And now, you have new ones.”
Tatiana crosses her arms, looking away. Zeke sighs, shakes his head, and stops holding the box out to her. He notes the way she won’t look at him, the air of slight annoyance coming off of her. She’s pouting because he’s bought her something nice, and he once more thinks that he’ll never understand her. But, better to apologize and set things right rather than let her simmer in this little fit.
“I’m sorry if you feel that I’m patronizing you,” he says quietly. “Is that what the problem is?”
She stops crossing her arms so tightly and looks up at him. “Maybe a little. Just- You don’t have to buy clothes for me. That’s something I should do for myself.”
“It wasn’t a hassle,” Zeke insists. “I saw them while I was out shopping and wanted to buy them. Even though they were… expensive.”
“Great,” she mutters.
“I don’t mind spending money on you,” he assures. “Would you please just take them? As a present. Please.”
Tatiana drops her arms, warily looks at the box, and then holds out her hands. He smiles and hands the box to her, leaning in to kiss her on the top of her head.
“If you don’t like them, I’ll take them back,” he says while she unfurls the ribbon. “But I do think they are nice. And I made sure to check that they were sturdy as well. They should last you awhile.”
She sets the box on the table as she pulls off the lid. Zeke waits with bated breath as she reaches inside and pulls out the shoes, and then feels a little ridiculous for getting so excited about it. But, he is excited, and he watches her carefully as she holds one of the boots in her hand and turns it over, feeling the fur trim and stroking the ribbon.
“These are too nice for me,” she says after a moment.
Zeke blinks and steps closer. “How do you mean?”
“They’re just… too nice,” she mumbles. “I’m going to get them all dirty, you know?”
“They’re only shoes.”
“But they’re nice shoes,” Tatiana protests. She looks down at the boot in her hand. “They’re really nice. They’d look out of place with all my shabby clothes.”
He grabs her shoulders and pulls her closer, kissing her on the forehead. “Well, perhaps I’ll just have to buy you a new dress to match.”
“Don’t you dare.”
He smiles. “But, you like them? The boots?”
She looks away briefly, then back to him. “Yes. But-”
“If you like them, keep them.” Zeke tilts her chin up towards him and kisses her nose. “I know they’re a little nicer than what you’re comfortable with, but they’re a present. Enjoy them. And I am begging you, throw away those awful old boots tonight, or I’ll throw them to the fire in the morning.”
Tatiana huffs when he lets her go and grabs the abandoned shopping by the door. She watches him as he starts to put it all away, then mumbles, “You didn’t have to do this.”
“I know.”
“I could’ve kept wearing those other shoes until they broke.”
“No.”
“But, I do like these ones. A lot.”
Zeke spares a look her way, happy that the embarrassment is gone and she seems pleased. If she’s happy, then he’s happy.
But he’s even happier when she throws those old, awful, godsforsaken snow boots away the very next day.
Thank goodness.