Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

1. “Welcome to The Valley!”
   Staring Lewis, Robin and my OC farmer, Asa
   Robin and Lewis argue in front of Asa, who just wants to go home.
   
   
2. Rain and Mud and Something Else
   Staring Penny and Maru
   Penny is visited in the night by someone at her window
   
   
3. The Egg Festival! 
   Staring Elliott and Leah, Gus has a small roll.
   In which Elliott brings a dinosaur egg to the egg festival.
   
   
4. Asleep on the Job
   Staring Willy
   Willy vs. the seagulls vs. a nice afternoon nap
   
   
5. “I didn’t know you needed glasses.”
   Starring Sam and Abigail
   How far will Sam go to learn about Abigail's glasses?
   
   
6. The Flower Dance!
   Starring Shane and my OC farmer, Asa
   Neither Shane nor Asa wants to be at the dance, but Shane has a date
   
   
7. A Friendly Rivalry 
   Starring Clint and Sebastian
   Clint finds a young Sebastian in the bar and invites him to play pool
   
   
8. “I don’t get it but I’m glad it makes you happy”
   Starring Kent, Vincent and Sam
   Kent reflects on his relationship with his sons
   
   
9. The Sun: Good or Evil??
   Starring my farmer OC: Asa
   Asa reflects on farming life, compared to working at Joja
   
   
10.  Luau
    Starring Marnie and Lewis
    Marnie is tired of taking Lewis's side and prepares for another "anchovy incident."
    
    
11. A Pile of Feathers on the Ground 
    Starring Penny and Shane
    Penny finds evidence of a predator outside Shane's farm
    
    
12. “Wake up and come get breakfast.”
    Starring Alex, George and Evelyn
    Alex muses about food as he preps breakfast.
    
    
13. Regrets
    Staring Harvey and Caroline
    The weekly exercise group is mostly empty
    
    
14. Dance of the moonlight Jellies
    Starring Pierre
    Pierre goes over his earnings from the festival, and misses something.
    
    
15. A favorite beverage 
    Staring Leah
    Leah opens a bottle of wine with unpleasant results
    
    
16. When the farmer needs saving
    Staring Emily and my OC farmer, Asa
    Asa can't take on a wandering spirit alone
    
    
17. “Here, I got you a gift.”
    Starring Rasmodius and Krobus
    Rasmodius investigates a new creature in his domain
    
    
18. Stardew Valley Fair
    Starring Abigail and Sam
    Abigail wins the grand prize, and still buys Sam corndogs
    
    
19. Movie Night with The Gang
    Starring Maru, Abigail and Demetrius
    Maru and Abigail see a movie... and discover they've been followed
    
    
20. Pumpkin Spice and Apple Cider
    Starring Elliott and Emily
    Elliott has problems and Emily has a beer for every one
    
    
21. Spirit’s Eve
    Starring Harvey and Haley
    Harvey and Haley, reluctantly, face their fears
    
    
22. The Valley’s Kids
    Starring Pam and most of the young marriage canidates
    A short glance at the Pelican Town natives when they were younger
    
    
23. “Was that a ghost?”
    Starring Sebastian and Willy
    It's a cold night on the ocean and Willy mistakes Sebastian for a ghost
    
    
24. Festival of Ice
    Staring Leah, Elliott has a small role
    Leah carves a mermaid from ice, but it somehow looks familiar.
    
    
25. “It’s your turn to do the dishes.”
    Starring Emily and Haley
    The sisters fight over domestic chores
    
    
26. The nth time they said “I love you”
    Starring Shane and Jas
    Shane and Jas make a snowfamily
    
    
27. The Night Market
    Starring Maru
    Maru looks through the Night Market's wares
    
    
28. Something to keep out the cold
    Starring Alex and Penny
    Alex shovels snow for the town and receives a thank-you gift
    
    
29. A Photograph
    Starring Sebastian
    Sebastian sorts through his things before moving
    
    
30. Feast of the Winter Star
    Starring Harvey, Lewis and Maru
    A blizzard hits the night before the feast and Harvey's a worrier
    
    
31. “Let’s go home.”
    Starring my farmer OC: Asa and Emily
    Asa reflects at his grandfather's grave
    

Chapter Text

It didn’t take long for them to dissolve into bickering. It never does. Five feet off the bus and already Asa wanted to be somewhere else. He shuffled his feet against the dry, brown grass, wishing he could run past Robin and Lewis instead of listening to them argue over what he should do with his grandfather’s home. 

“Lewis, all I’m saying is that no one has lived in this house in over a decade! We’re lucky a racoon didn’t crawl into the chimney and die! A few renovations will make the place easier to live in.”

“The boy just got here and you’re already trying to sell him something! Have a little respect for the old house! He used to live here, you know.”

I’m not a child . Asa wanted to say. He knew he was short, and his full head of curly hair gave him the appearance of a teddy bear. He was used to people treating him like he was too young to be making his own decisions, though the older he got, the less patience he had for it. And right now, he had almost none. “Thank you both for meeting me at the bus stop.” He said firmly, though not quite as loudly as he intended. “It was nice to put a name to a face finally. I have a lot of work to do, so if you could both see yourselves to-”

“Asa, my boy! It’s great to see you again, as well!” Lewis said, putting a rough hand on his shoulder. “Why, I remember the day you left here, all those years ago! It was so cold that winter, and I…” 

Are you really reminding me of the month my grandfather died? Asa wanted to shout. He didn’t. Somewhere in the back of his mind, his manners won out, but even though he couldn’t interrupt Lewis, he stared at someone who would. Robin, for all her fire, seemed like the kind of woman who would come to the aid of any child, axe in hand. All he had to do was look at her, let a bit of his misery leak into his eyes, and she cracked. 

“Lewis, for Yoba’s sake, the kid’s had a long day. You can reminisce with him at the saloon. Let’s leave him to his business.”

“Ah yes, well.” Lewis realized that Asa wasn’t regarding him with the attention he desired, and dropped his hand to his side. “Please know you can come see me for anything. The tea kettle is always on!” He laughed jovially, but Asa didn’t want to meet the man’s eyes.

“‘Again, it was good to meet you both.” Asa said quietly, opening the door to the farmhouse and quickly moving inside. 

“Welcome to the Valley!” Robin called, as he firmly shut the door, not breathing until he heard the lock click.

Chapter Text

Rain fell in resonating drops on the tin roof, loud enough to drown out the sound of the TV in the other room. It was the first real rain of the season - a warm rain with no chance of freezing, and if Penny was lucky, it would start thundering soon. She settled in under her blankets, book in hand, ready to wile away the evening, when there was a knock. 

Not a knock at her door, she thought, calming her racing heartbeat, but her window. She waited a few moments, staring into the darkness beyond the window, willing something to take shape from the darkness. But there was nothing. She was nearly ready to dismiss the sound when the knock came again, and a flash of skin appeared briefly before disappearing again. Penny wrapped her nightgown tightly around her, picking up the baseball bat she always had nearby, and walking slowly towards the window. 

Opening her window, she stared into the darkness again, certain she had seen a hand, but not seeing its owner. “Hello?” She said quietly to the rain, baseball bat still at the ready. 

“Hello.” The rain said back, in a voice she recognized.

Penny looked down, amongst the bushes her mother had planted but never trimmed. Nestled amongst the wet leaves, barely illuminated by the light drifting out, she finally saw eyes and a face. “Maru?”

“Hey-ya friend. Sorry, I didn’t want to make too much noise.”

Penny immediately began pulling the window screen out. “What are you doing in the rain?”

“Uh, well, tried to look for stars, realized it was going to storm, then didn’t make it back to my house before the rain started.”

“Again?”

“Again.” Maru said, grabbing the edge of the window and pulling herself up. She was drenched - her curly hair laid flat against her head and she was covered in specks of mud.

Penny already had a towel waiting, helping to pull Maru in through her window. “What is all over you?”

“Uh, rain and mud and… something else. Maybe seaweed? I was near the ocean.” She laughed, careful to keep her mess confined to the towel. “So what are we reading tonight?”

“Well, I was about to start Jane Eyre. Let me grab you some dry pjs.”

“I’m always ready for some 18th century literature.” Maru grinned, sending a sprinkle of water over the floor as she dried her hair. “Maybe I should show up unexpectedly more often.”

Chapter Text

Elliott arrived at the townsquare with his hair and jacket snapping gently in the breeze. It was a fine spring day without a cloud in the sky - a perfect day for an outside gathering and already he could smell the buffet on the breeze. He simply needed to drop off his shopping bag and then he was free to partake in the festival's delights. 

Finding the main table, he also found Leah, already swaying from the drink in her hand. “Hello, Leah.” He said brightly. “Where do I drop off my-” he held up his shopping bag. “My egg?”

“Egg?” Leah looked puzzled, her face like a window with how expressive it was - an effect of the alcohol, he was sure. “You didn’t have to bring an egg.”

“It’s the egg festival!”  He said with gusto, removing the shopping bag from his prize. “Of course I had to bring-”

“What in the seven stars is that?!”

“An egg?” Her surprise shocked him, and he looked at the volleyball-sized egg in his hand with uncertainty.

“That’s not a chicken egg.”

“Well, no, but the flier merely said this was an egg festival, not a chicken festival.” He clutched it closer. “And I found this washed up on the beach just a few days ago and thought it would be perfect.”

“Perfect for… what, exactly?”

“Well.” He stared at the green spotted egg, having no idea what the egg festival was supposed to be about. He just knew there was a free buffet and his small cabin didn’t have a proper refrigerator. “I’m sure someone will appreciate it.”

“Elliot!” He heard Gus’s booming voice as the balding man walked towards him. “Is that what I think it is?”

“I’m sure it is, my good fellow!” Elliot replied, first giving Leah a quick, know-it-all glance before turning away.

“Why, you can make the most excellent mayonnaise out of these!” Gus said, plucking the egg from his hands. “You’ve got to try it with one of my sardine sandwiches! Give me ten minutes and I’ll whip one up for you.”

“That is precisely why I brought it for you, my friend!” He followed Gus, happy he had brought the egg, and happier still, to be able to have a good meal.

Chapter Text

Waves rhythmically crashed against the shore, the sound so familiar Willy didn’t hear it, anymore than a typist heard the thrum of a ceiling fan. He did hear the seagulls overhead, eager for whatever fish they could steal from him, as he set his tacklebox on the dock. 

Willy selected his lure - a faded green one that was as long as his hand - and tossed it into the waves. Birds circled the splash, though today they seemed smart enough not to go after the lure itself. Still, they waited, just as he did. Sometimes fishing was a fight against the fish, and sometimes it was a fight against the gulls. He’d been in this profession long enough that he usually won both. He slowly reeled in his line and tried to guess what today would be like. 

Not a great day, he thought, hours later, with one measly mackerel in his bucket. He stood and stretched, switching his lure for the fifth time, before settling his chair under his canopy. Another splash, and the waiting began again. Now that he was in the shade, the ocean breeze felt good, and the waves were like a soft lullaby. He leaned back, closing his eyes, waiting for the tug of a big one…

… and awoke to the sound of seagulls fighting over his small mackerel, the bucket upended and rolling towards the sea. He cursed as only a fisherman can, chasing the birds uselessly, as they carried what they had stolen into the sky. 

He grabbed his bucket before it was lost forever, before closing the tacklebox and calling it quits for the day. Sometimes fishing was a fight against the fish, or against the gulls, and sometimes it was a fight against an old man’s need to take a nap.

Chapter Text

Under the heavy fluorescent JojaMart lights, Abigail’s glare seemed like something out of a horror movie. “Yes, I need glasses. Happy now? Don’t you have some shelves to stock?”

“Calm down.” Sam laughed, a hint of cruel irony to the sound. “If I wanted to blackmail you, I’d tell your dad you were here.” He leaned his chin on the mop handle, grinning not unlike a Cheshire Cat. “So do you normally walk around blind or do you have contacts?”

“Ugh.” She moved past Sam to find the spicy chips. The mop bucket squealed behind her, and she knew he wasn’t going to drop the question easily. Well, she wasn’t going to answer him easily, so joke’s on him. 

“I’ve known you for over ten years and this is the first time I've seen you with glasses.” Sam remarked. “Are they new? Or did you just sleep in contacts everytime you and Seb slept over?”

“That’s terrible for your eyes, numbnuts.”

“Ha! So you do have contacts.”

She rolled her eyes, fully intending to grab her chips and leave. But as he reached the place where they should be, she found the shelf empty. Her backup chip, spicy ranch flavor, was also out of stock.

“Ah darn. Guess I forgot to stock them. I could check in the back for you, loyal JojaMart customer .” She didn’t have to turn around to guess the stupid grin that was probably on his face. She let out an angry sigh, staring at the fluorescent lights above them as though the chips she wanted would simply fall from the sky. 

“I’ve needed glasses since 8th grade. Usually I wear contacts. I got color-changing contacts from a catalog and they burned my eyes. Doctor says I have to wear my glasses until they heal. Are you happy now?” She turned on him, wishing her catastrophic contacts had given her heat vision. Instead, she merely glared at him through her obnoxiously thick lenses. 

Sam laughed at her, holding his hands up in surrender. “Okay, all right, I’ll go get your chips for you.”

Chapter Text

Flower petals swirled and fluttered in the air as one, as if the breeze wove them into a dress just for herself, so that she could join in the festivities of the day. The Flower Dance was supposed to be about love and as the wind tousled his hair, Asa felt at peace. Wasn’t that close enough to love? 

“You can stare at it all you want, but you still have to go, shot glass.” Shane said gruffly, giving Asa a push on the shoulder as he passed. Shane somehow always seemed to see right through him, despite usually only seeing him through the bottom of a glass. 

“I didn’t think you’d attend this sort of event.” Asa caught up to him, a little surprised to see he had shaved. Shane had never cared for tradition before, yet he was dressed in the ceremonial sky-blue trousers. “Are you going to dance?”

“Why? Do you need a partner?”

“No. But you don’t have one, either.”

They both stopped at the edge of the clearing, which was full  of people milling about and chatting, as though they didn’t live within walking distance of each other. The whole town seemed to be here, jovial in the warm sun. People started pairing off, preparing for the festivities. Some laughed, some joined begrudgingly at the behest of their partner. As Asa looked at the people around him, he just felt nervous. He’d rather be alone with the breeze.

He looked around the outside of the clearing and found those who looked as awkward as he felt. A few older folks who hadn’t settled down, or no longer had the strength to dance. Clint, the blacksmith, stared at his shoes, as though they would turn to gold and carry him away. 

“Don’t eat all the chutney before I get back.”

Asa laughed. “You must be in love if they’re keeping you from the buffet table.”

Shane straightened his tie, then handed Asa some trash he had in his pocket. “It’s not about love, dumbass. If someone’s dancing with you, it means they aren’t dancing with someone else.” With that, he confidently walked towards Emily, leaving Asa to look for a trash bag on his own.

Chapter Text

Clint was chalking his pool cue when he noticed the kid staring at him. He didn’t know much of anything about him, not even his name, but Clint knew he was Robin’s son and he wasn’t adapting to the new town well. He could ignore him and continue with his game, but he recognized the loneliness in the kid’s eyes and pointed to the additional pool cues on the wall. 

“What’s your name, kid?” 

“Sebastian.”

“Well, Sebastian, I’m Clint. Have you ever played pool before?”

“No.” The kid said, grabbing a stick off the wall and holding it like one would hold a broadsword. Clint warmed at the sight, remembering his own youth. 

“Well, first I’ll show you how to do a break shot.” He wasn’t the best at explaining rules or strategies, but Sebastian hung on every word he said, eager to play well. Clint didn’t know the last time he held someone’s undivided attention for so long, nor the last time anyone had listened to him with such rapt regard. It made him self-conscious, and he found himself answering the kid’s questions in grunts when he didn’t quite know the answer. 

Not that it deterred Sebastian at all. Though the pool cue was much too large for him, he held it as best he could, and each shot seemed better than the last. He cheered when he sunk his first ball, showing a wide smile before looking to Clint for approval. It was sad, Clint realized, that he desperately wanted the approval of some stranger at a saloon. “You’re doing well, kid. Must have some hidden talent.” 

Again, Sebastian beamed, eliciting a smile from him as well. They continued to play, with Clint winning a few games but Sebastian doing better every time. They didn’t talk about anything other than the game, but that didn’t matter. It was enough to simply be less alone, no matter the age difference between them. 

“Sebastian?” Robin called, entering the small room. “It’s time to go.” She looked between her son and Clint, surprised, but not otherwise wary. “Oh, I thought you’d be at the arcade machines.”

“Can’t I stay long enough to finish this game? I’m winning!” 

Robin relaxed, and Clint wondered how often she had seen her son smile since they moved to the valley. “I suppose.” She answered, her tone betraying her words. “But just until the end of  this game.”

“Okay.” Sebastian didn’t smile, but took his time lining up his shot. When his mother had left, Sebastian looked at him. “Do you think you’ll be here next Friday, too?”

He tried not to make a habit of coming - he didn’t really have enough money to drink as much as he did. But he liked this kid, and for him… “Yeah. I’ll be here every Friday.”

Chapter Text

It wasn’t until Kent heard a cacophony of odd voices that he realized it was Wednesday again. With a sigh, he folded the newspaper and placed it on the stack next to his chair, reaching for his boots as he did so. It was the efficient move of an old man, and he might’ve laughed at himself, if he didn’t feel so much older than he actually was. 

“Hey, dad.” Sam said, poking his head out of his room. “We’re going to start practicing. You okay with that?” That his son didn’t even leave his room hurt Kent in a way he couldn’t express, but he supposed with his long absence, he should be happy his son cared about his comfort at all. 

“Give me five minutes to get my shoes on. I’ll take a walk outside.”

“Okay.” The room door shut gently, the sound resonating in the small house. 

Kent’s hand was on the doorknob when a loud, high-pitched voice asked, “Where ya going?” 

He jumped, squeezing the doorknob until his heart stopped racing. “I’m going for a walk, Vincent.” He said, forcing his voice to a calm tenor. 

“Can I come?” His son stared at him with wide eyes and a happy smile, expectation clear on his face.

“Sure.” Kent replied, not willing to disappoint him. It took them another five minutes to find Vincent’s shoes and then lace them properly, during which Sam’s room remained remarkably quiet. He opened the door and Vincent shot out like a dog running for freedom.

“C’mon! Jas and I found the weirdest bug the other day! Maybe we can find it again!”

Kent followed his youngest son, who immediately ran for the creek across the road from their house. WIthin ten paces, he heard the muffled sound of drums and music, the sound tolerable from the outside of the house. Again, he felt sorrow more than anything, that there must be a wall between him and Sam for the two to share their lives. He supposed that it was a gift that Sam respected that wall, as Kent despised it even as he was the one who needed it. 

“Come look at this rock! It looks like poop!” Vincent called, snapping him from his thoughts. He wasn’t so far removed from fatherhood to realize that looks like poop was often actually poop, and seconds away from disaster. But as he arrived, Vincent held up a piece of petrified wood,  worn smooth by centuries of rain. 

“That certainly does look like poop.” He said, though he felt ridiculous saying it, he was rewarded with a giggle. “Do you want to keep it or throw it in the creek?”

“Into the creek!” His son said, running to the bank and tossing it a few feet. It splashed and Vincent laughed again. “Let’s find more!”

“All right.” They worked diligently, both soon flecked with mud and water, the evening air filled with his youngest son’s laugh and his eldest son’s music, and Kent finally felt like he could relax. 

Chapter Text

The day started the same as the last: humid as a sauna. Even when the air was cooler in the dark early morning, it meant nothing when his clothes stuck to him before he’d even left the house. He hadn’t known what a luxury air conditioning was until he suddenly didn’t have it at all.

Asa’s office in the accounting department was a comfortable standard of 72 degrees. Always clean when he arrived, freshly vacuumed by a night crew he’d never seen. Quiet music hummed from a cassette player only to drown out the sound of the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. There were no windows in the office - the bright light caused a glare on his computer screen and installing blinds proved too expensive, compared to the easier task of moving him to a windowless room. 

Now, his skin itched from the sweat pouring from his pores. The sun blazed overhead, too bright to comfortably see anything except the dirt right in front of him. He dug into the dry, crunchy soil, cicadas howling from the treeline as though they would die tomorrow. Everything around him seemed intent on overwhelming his senses or ruining the small comforts he had. He picked up his water bottle - the ice long since melted - wiping the sweat from his lips and smearing dirt in its place. 

He drank, sweat and dirt on his tongue despite his efforts, and smiled. He’d never felt better.

Chapter Text

The Luau used to be one of Marnie's favorite festivals: the beach, the hot sun, and the cold punch were the essence of a good time. But then came the anchovy incident and Marnie never got to enjoy another Luau.

It had been at the request of Mayor Lewis. Lewis - who right now was standing in the shade with a coconut drink in his hand - had implored her to prevent another disaster. He'd been wracked with anxiety after two dozen anchovy heads had floated to the top of the soup just as the governor was taking a bite, their eyeballs boiled right out of their sockets. No one had wanted to touch the 50-quarts of soup they had already prepared, and the whole pot had been wasted. Marnie - who had only just realized she wanted more from Lewis than to simply share his bed - had caved at his anxious ramblings and agreed to soup duty.

That, of course, had been three years ago - and she'd been on soup duty ever since. Unable to let her hair down and dance a little because she had to stay near the soup. Unable to drink a little because  she had to have a clear mind to protect the soup. Unable to hold Lewis's hand in public because she had to uphold the integrity of the soup. The SOUP! She didn't even like soup! Who wanted boiling hot soup at noon on the hottest day  of the year? The governor, apparently, and that alone was enough to ensure Marnie would never vote for the man again.

But this wasn’t about the governor. This wasn’t even about Lewis. This was about Marnie, and her time was long overdue. After ensuring everyone had placed something in the pot, Marnie took her time stirring it, making sure bits of fat didn’t burn to the bottom. The size of the vat meant the heating was irregular at best, and she worked up a sweat moving all that liquid around. On the hottest day of the year. When everyone else was enjoying themselves. 

When she finally felt it was finished, she dropped in her own contribution and signaled to Lewis the soup was ready. Then she walked away, though not too fast. He would know she had done it - but unless he admitted to the town how she had regular access to his undergarments, there was nothing he could do publicly. He would simply have to fume about it, alone, for once. 

Marnie smiled at the thought. Then Lewis screamed, disgusted, as his purple shorts rose to the top of the soup. Marnie smiled even wider. 

Chapter Text

The afternoon sun was warm on the dry, dusty ground, and Penny’s heels sunk into the dirt as she walked. Jas skipped along next to her, a large hawk feather in her hand, blissfully unaware, as children tended to be. 

“Who is going to be home with you today?” Penny asked, her voice calmer than she felt.

“Uncle Shane. He doesn’t work today.”

Wonderful. Shane was Penny’s least favorite kind of person. Rude and perpetually drunk. Though he at least had the decency to hide his vices from Jas, which was more than Penny could say for her own mother. Still, as Jas bounded into her home, Penny walked uncomfortably in after her. “Shane? Are you free?”

“Whazzat?” Shane drifted into the entryway moments later, sober, at least. 

“Uncle Shane! Look at this feather I found! I’m a forest princess!”

“You sure are, kiddo.” He looked at Penny, unhappy, but not scowling. “What did you want?”

“I just wanted to let you know…” She motioned to Jas’s feather. “We found that feather just outside the ranch. You don’t have any red or brown chickens, do you?”

“Brown ones, sure. Why?”

“Well, it’s just… we found that hawk feather amongst several smaller feathers… and I just wanted to be sure you were aware.”

“Aware of what, exactly?”

Penny wished this conversation would be over. Instead, it was Jas who spoke. “Uncle Shane? Do hawks eat chickens?”

“They can if they’re large enough.” He looked from the large hawk feather to Penny, realization on his face. “Damn it, why didn’t you say so?” He was gone in an instant, charging out the back door. Jas and Penny followed, though Penny was only concerned for Jas.

“Take my hand, sweetie.” Penny said, watching warily as Shane counted his hens. 

All his limbs relaxed at once, as though he were a marionette someone had dropped. “They’re all here.” He said to no one in particular. “Jas, help me get them inside. They’ve had enough sunlight for today. And Penny?” He looked at her with the first smile she’d ever seen from him. “Thanks.”

Chapter Text

The sun was just cresting the mountains when Alex and Dusty returned from their  morning run. Even after showering and caring for Dusty, his grandparents hadn’t stirred, and so Alex set about making breakfast for all of them.

He didn’t consider himself a great cook, but he knew the difference between protein, carbohydrates and fats, and knew how much of each he wanted to put in his body. He used to be jealous of professional athletes who had nutritionists putting their meals together for them - it seemed easier to simply pay someone to put food in front of him. But sometime in his teens, he realized he couldn’t just watch his grandmother cook for him forever, and he asked her to teach him some basics. It’d been easier than he had expected and soon he was preparing most of the meals for the house.

By the time he had the hash and eggs ready, his grandfather rolled into the kitchen. “Good morning. How’s the weather today?” George went to the coffee machine - he always made his own, insisting that no one else could do it right.

“Cooler than it was yesterday.” Alex replied as he set the table. “Fall’s settling in quick.”

His grandmother shuffled in shortly after, settling into her chair as George set her coffee in front of her. “Thank you both.” She smiled at them, taking a sip of her coffee. “Now how did that Gridball game end, Alex? I believe I fell asleep before I saw the final score.”

Alex told her with gusto, telling her all his favorite parts and theories on the last play of the game. His grandparents listened intently, their attention as much a show of love as the food he had made for them.

Chapter Text

The large open room was far too open and empty for Harvey’s liking. Music already bumped steadily through Caroline’s small cassette player, an upbeat tone, though not nearly loud enough to cover his approaching steps. Typically he was the last one here; sneaking in just as she cranked the music, to the back of the room where no one could easily stare. Today, however, it was just him, Caroline and Jodi, and they both turned as he walked in the room. 

“Hello, Harvey.” Caroline said, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Usually you’re late. Guess it’s just the three of us, today.”

“Emily’s on a shopping trip with Gus, to prepare for the Luau.” Jodi supplied, with the barest hint of a smile. “Lewis wants something special this year, from what I heard.”

“Well, I’m sure that’s a workout of its own.” He said with a smile. The other women didn’t return it, and instead found their usual places. 

Harvey wanted to leave - he could take a walk up the mountain and get some good exercise in - but somehow leaving seemed even more awkward than staying. Standing behind the two women, too, didn’t seem appropriate, and so despite the nausea creeping in, he stood next to Caroline. 

First they stretched, the music bumping to a simple pop song, before a louder, heavier dance song played. There were only two cassettes, for a total of four 30-minute workouts, and Harvey recognized the song as it began playing. He had a small routine for it - a less intensive dance he’d learned from watching Emily, but he just couldn’t lose himself in the song. He felt exposed next to the two women - both of them older than him by a decade, and yet somehow in better shape than him. He couldn’t hear them breathing, anyway, as he gasped for breath.

The song finally ended, shifting into a short intermission, and he reached for his wrist. It was a distraction, mostly, but knowing his heartrate was important for proper exercise, and so he counted.

“What are you doing?” Caroline asked, staring at him. 

“Oh, uh.” He stuttered, losing his count. “I was, well, checking my heartrate. It’s a good measurement of how much exercise you’re getting, though it has its limitations.”

Caroline curiously placed her own fingers on her wrist. “What sort of rate is good exercise?”

“Oh well, it depends on the person, but…” He was her doctor, he knew how old she was. “Probably between 130 and 140. Though it’ll take another song to get there, most likely.”

She smiled with a competitive gleam. “Want to see who can reach their target first?”

Harvey returned the smile, not fully at ease, but at least a little more comfortable sharing space with her. “All right. You’re on.”

Chapter Text

Black waves crashed against the dark beach - it was almost time for the festival and all lights had been extinguished in preparation. Pierre stood in his booth, far back from the shore. Without lights, it was too dark to see his spreadsheets, but he didn’t dare abandon his unsold merchandise. So he stood in his booth, listening to the excited jitters of tourists and kids, their excitement nearly drowned out by the crashing waves. 

He wasn’t disappointed - by his last count, he’d made more money in the last two hours than he usually made in a week at the store. His margins on his new Seafoam Pudding more than made up for not getting to actually see the jellies. After all, he’d seen them every year since Abby was five. They were always the same - interesting, sure, but interesting wasn’t going to fund his retirement. 

The new tourists, though, they had a special place in his heart. A once-in-a-lifetime event brought out once-in-a-lifetime spending and those city folk had no idea what a Moonlight Jelly was. The only disappointing part was the short time he had to sell his wares. His mind drifted, already planning for next year. Maybe hosting a small beach party, maybe getting the mayor to fund it... and more daylight and more people... maybe he'd make a commemorative Moonlight Jelly windsock.

He looked out over the waves, wondering how much longer the festival would take. He’d forgotten his watch, unfortunately, but he trusted Caroline to help him move things when it was over. Squinting into the dark, he thought he saw the small candle that indicated the start of the festival, or it could be one of the jellies themselves. Or it could be a passing boat - it really was too dark to see anything. A breeze kicked up, the heat of the day gone, and he shivered. 

So absorbed in his own musings, he didn’t realize the festival had already ended. His wife, used to heading to bed alone, was already asleep, as Pierre waited in his booth.

Chapter Text

Leah preferred red wine: dark and dry, perfect for an evening of pondering the bygone day. She had a variety of bottles on hand, each ready with their wisdom depending on the day she had had. The glass, as well, had to be carefully selected. The right body to go with the right wine, accenting the aroma, letting the wine tell its full tale along the tongue. 

Leah stared at the glass in her hand, the rich dark color - more of a dark burgundy than true red. The glass, an old fall favorite, perfect for merlots. But it was wrong. Everything about it was wrong. The taste was all at once too bitter and too sweet - conflicting, not telling a story so much as waging war against her tastebuds. She was certain it wasn’t her own choices; the pour, the glass, the age of the bottle. This should have been a delectable night. Instead she needed to purge her pallet. 

She picked up the offending bottle. A new brand, yes, but she had tasted several bottles at the winery and they were all pleasant. This one had been her favorite, a blueberry merlot, the perfect mix of summer fruit and fall harvest. The taste she remembered had been gentle and plump, a wine that was as easy on the nose as it was on the tongue. With wavering certainty, she sipped from the glass. 

Paint thinner. She’d rather drink paint thinner.

She set down the glass with a sigh of defeat. Had she simply imagined how she had liked the bottle? Had it gotten too warm over the summer? Her night already ruined, she sat in bitter defeat, swirling the glass. She really did like the color. It could have been a lovely display piece had she not already opened the bottle. She glanced at her sculptures, waiting in her studio. Wine-Stained Wood had a nice ring to it, and at least then the bottle wouldn’t go to waste. 

She poured her glass back into the bottle, corking it with a little more force than she needed and left the bottle near her latest piece. There was still time to get a glass from the Saloon, if she walked quickly.

Chapter Text

The spirit howled, the sound full of pain and loss. It circled the tree, quickly at first, then slowly again, trapped like an animal in a snare. It howled again and Asa’s heart broke with the sound, the cry of something so forign, yet so familiar in its loss. 

The spirit was many things - a culmination of all the things poisoning the forest. The tree it circled was the catalyst. It had been old and gnarled… and stubborn, Asa could feel. It had not died quietly. It had fought against the weather and the pollution, but a small fire had finally choked it out. The spirit felt it’s death just as Asa did, and here it remained, calling for others of its kind. 

It could not stay. It was caused by death and was itself a spirit of death. Asa did not like the sight of them, not since he had seen one take his grandfather all those years ago. But still he approached it, drawing magic into his hands. The spirit noticed immediately, its howl twisting from sorrow into fury, the sound splitting his bones with pain. Still he held his magic, trying to block out the sound. He knew if he just pushed harder, longer, the spirit would fall to the Guardian’s magic. 

Seconds stretched into minutes which stretched into hours. The spirit wailed, and Asa’s skull seemed to crack under the pressure. He couldn’t think with the noise and knew his spell was failing. He needed to manipulate the magic, but everytime he tried, the magic refused to respond. 

A different sound filled his ears, and Asa thought he had finally lost. But the sound was pleasant, a song, a voice he never tired of hearing. She sang, magic interwoven with the words, a shield against the spirit’s scream. His head cleared and he shifted his magic, breaking the spirit’s connection to the world and setting it free. Asa collapsed, his chest tight from exertion. 

Emily was at his side, calm and radiant in the moonlight.  “You heard the spirit crying, too?” She asked, helping him to his feet. 

He nodded. “It was upset about the tree.”

Emily smiled warmly. She was still holding his hand.  “We’ll plant a new one tomorrow.” Already the space seemed to have cleared with the spirit’s removal. Starlight seeped into the clearing, and small insects began their nightly calls. “Let’s head back. I’ll make some tea that will prevent bad dreams.” He nodded again, leading the way back, her hand still wrapped tightly in his own. 

Chapter Text

The air was wet and held a sharp scent; Rasmodius used a spell to keep it from his nose. While this area functioned as a sewer for the town above, it was much more than that, changed over decades by its inhabitants. Pathways leading to dens were hidden from the naked eye, but Rasmodius saw them, all of them occupied by creatures who had sworn allegiance to him. Only one creature had not yet made that vow, though today would change things.

His thick boots should have been easy to hear against the ceramic floor but he moved silently, as he always did whenever he left his tower. He knew the general area the new inhabitant had claimed, though he had yet to lay eyes on the creature. There were many twisting paths, but the new creature had stayed near the main tunnel… it was timid, perhaps? Or worse, was looking for a way into the village above. That wouldn’t do. Rasmodius needed that village happy and unharmed for his research. If the creature had ill intentions, he would know and he would deal with it. 

The already dark tunnels hid the physical form of most everything down here. The various magical creatures that called this sewer home had other senses, as did Rasmodius. He felt the pulse of magical energy - a heartbeat, as it were, for creatures without hearts. It flitted about as the new beast moved, shifting away from Rasmodius quietly, as though hoping not to be seen. A fearful movement - and an ignorant one. Timid, then, Rasmodius decided, and spoke to the living shadow.

“This land is under my protection. Show yourself, or declare yourself an enemy.” He waited, watching the pulse of magic settle at his feet.

“I am Krobus, of the shadow people.” It said, speaking in a common tongue. Strange, for one of the shadow people. They had their own language and tended not to deviate from it.

“And what is your intention in my land?”

“Sanctuary. I seek sanctuary. I am not welcome beneath the mountain and have fled for my life. I swear not to bring harm to your lands or the humans who live in it.”

Rasmodius appraised Krobus, who might’ve been shivering, if it had muscles to do so. Its physical form was dark purple like the night sky, and mostly shapeless, taking whatever form suited them in the moment. They were of the nature of spirits, though much more attached to this plane and much more deadly. This one, however, seemed to be speaking the truth. “I’ve brought you a gift.” Rasmodius said, kneeling down on Krobus’s level. Pulling his hand from his cloak, he held a small, orange pumpkin.

Krobus’s eyes - like small clear opals on his otherwise featureless face - fixed on the pumpkin. “I accept your vow.” Rasmodius said, allowing Krobus to wrap his essence around the pumpkin and hold it. “You must never bring harm to the inhabitants of the Valley or I shall remove you most unkindly. Do you understand?”

“Yes, master wizard.” After a few unsure moments, Krobus took the pumpkin and retreated back to whatever corner it had claimed, leaving Rasmodius to ponder the events that had brought him a new ward to look after. 

Chapter Text

She was winning and that’s what mattered. The amount of money she had spent in order to win wasn’t important. She was winning . Abigail threw another baseball, knocking over the full ten pins for the third time in a row. The carny rolled his eyes, pulling the biggest prize down from the ceiling. She took it, triumphant, holding it over her head as she fled the establishment. 

Once free of the crowd, she spun in a circle, the giant plush rainbow octopus above her head, its eight arms spinning around her. It wasn’t that she really wanted the octopus. Half the reason she wanted it was because the smug carny said she couldn’t win it. Shows him. But now she didn’t quite know what to do with it, or herself. She’d won all the games: The Hand Toss, The Wheel of Mystery, The Fisherman’s Hole. She’d gotten the top prize in all of them and it wasn’t even 1pm. 

She wandered the fairgrounds aimlessly - mostly aimlessly, anyway. Her nose led her to rows of parked food trucks and barbeque grills. The scent hit her first, the air almost sticky with sweet syrups and tangy sauce. Her stomach awoke with the smell, finally realizing she was hungry after her hours of gaming. She checked her pockets for cash - she had some, not nearly as much as she had started the day with, but enough to buy some deep-fried goodness. 

“Two orders of corn fritters, please.” Abigail said, slapping her money down on the counter. 

“And two corndogs.” Sam said, coming up from behind her and leaning on her shoulder. 

“You have a job; you can buy your own corndogs.” She retorted, shrugging him loose.

“Eh, I already spent all my money on cider. Besides, you’ve got to feed your new friend here.” He pulled on two of the octopus’s tentacles, making him dance atop her head. “Have you named him yet?”

“ Her name is Ozzy.” She set more money on the counter to cover the cost of the corndogs. 

“She’s bigger than the prizes you won last year.”

“Yeah, and the carnie was not happy about it.” Moments later their fried delicacies arrived. Abigail immediately popped a corn fritter into her mouth, singeing her tongue, but smiling all the while. 

“Seb wanted to check out the fortune teller’s tent, if you’re done hassling the game tents.” Sam plucked one of the corndogs from Abigail’s hands.

“I might go win another octopus just to show that carnie I mean business.”

“Or you can hang out with your friends . And buy them another corndog.”

Abigail rolled her eyes. “They are good corndogs.”

Chapter Text

The movie theater lobby was still as sticky as the day it opened. Fortunately it smelled of butter and sweets - an inviting aroma of late nights and joyous memories. 

“Thanks for coming tonight, Abigail.” Maru said, hands full of soda and candy. 

“Bah, I wouldn’t let you attend the movie all alone! Besides, it looks interesting. I’m sure I’ll enjoy it.”

“I would have attended by myself just fine. I just didn’t want my money to go to waste and Sebby said he was too busy with work.” The warmer months meant fewer colds to treat, and Maru’s paychecks had been rather light of late. Which was good for the town,but  bad when she already spent half her paycheck on batteries. 

They walked into the theater, finding a pair of good seats towards the middle. The theater was hardly filled, as it was a nature documentary, but there were still more people than Maru expected. “Hey, don’t be too obvious.” Abigail whispered, pretending to sip her drink while she spoke. But I think your dad is two rows behind us? On your right?”

It took everything not to immediately spin around and confront him. Slowly, she turned, and sure enough, there Demetrius sat. His face was mostly hidden behind a bag of popcorn, but she knew her dad’s figure. Also there weren’t any other black people in town, and she could see the familiar dark tone of his hands. 

She flipped back around, staring at the screen with barely diluted rage. Was he spying on her? Did he not trust her? “Sorry if that spoiled your night, pixel.” Abigail said quietly, her voice apologetic. “We can go if you want.”

“No.” Maru said quietly, still seething. “I didn’t want to waste my money and I’m not going to.”

“Want me to make a scene? Maru turned to stare at Abigail, not knowing what that meant. While Maru waited for an explanation, Abigail took her silence as a “yes.” 

She turned around and stood up. “Hey, Demetrius! Wanna come sit by me?”

“Abby!” Maru buried her face in her hands. “That’s not… helpful.” 

“Oh, right, your dad is immune to embarrassment.” 

Abigail sat in her squeaky chair and moments later, Demetrius sat down in the squeaky chair next to Maru. “Hi, sweetie. Are you excited for the documentary?”

Her rage partially dissolved by embarrassment, Maru didn’t look up from her hands. “Dad, why are you here?”

“Oh, I heard you inviting Sebastian to see it. You thought it would give him ideas for his Salarion games, and I thought I might like it, too.”

“But why are you here, now ?”

He thought for a moment, as the first ad began playing on the big screen. “It’s a coincidence that we’re here on the same day.” Maru rolled her eyes beneath her hand, a gesture Demetrius was quite familiar with. “I’m not here to walk you home, Maru. I didn’t know you’d be coming today.”

The movie would be starting soon and she couldn’t enjoy the movie while angry with her father. And while Abigail had agreed to see it, she wasn’t exactly an intellectual when it came to nature films. It might be nice to have someone knowledgeable to discuss it with. “All right, I believe you. But share your popcorn.”

Chapter Text

“Emily, darling.” Elliott sighed as he dropped himself upon a bar stool. “Help me to drown my woes in the valley’s strongest libations.”

“Well, darling .” Emily giggled, leaning on the counter with one hip propped out, “The strongest libation we have is good old-fashioned country gossip. So what’s bothering you?”

“Emily, please, give me a drink.” Elliott combed his fingers along his scalp, pleading with his eyes. A miserable look for a usually happy man.

“Oh, fine.” She pulled a bottle from under the counter, popped the lid off on the side of the bar and slid it to him.

He drank it immediately, finishing half the bottle in one go. “That’s.” He coughed. “Very sweet. What’s the alcohol content on that?”

“We’ll, it’s the farmer’s first batch of apple cider, so…” She tossed her hands as though juggling invisible numbers. “Anywhere between zero and ten percent. That bottle seems more like a zero, I guess.”

“Emily, you sky-on-a-cloudless-day, I wanted a real drink.” He didn’t sound mad - if anything, his mood had only improved since he had arrived. “You could serve this to a child.”

“Well, I wanted some real gossip, so spill the proverbial beans and I’ll get you another bottle.” She drummed her fingers on the counter expectantly, one eyebrow raised. 

“What gossip is there? As you know, my protagonist, Margrave Buchhanon, went into his father’s tomb to find his signet ring.” Emily grabbed what remained of his cider and drank as she listened. “But he had already given the signet ring to his brother! But if I take out the ring, he has no reason to go into the tomb and I lose the location for my grand reveal!”

Emily popped another bottle and slid it over the counter to him. “Mmhmm. Can’t have two signet rings. That’d be a mess.”

“Exactly.” Elliott drank from the new bottle. “ Good Yoba’s Tears. You could strip paint with this!”

“Yeah, that’s the farmer’s pumpkin ale. It’s somewhere between eight and…” she smelled the bottle. “Whew. Twenty-five percent?”

“They should probably give up on the alcohol brewing.”

“Yeah, it’s not very good.” She handed him the bottle. “So where were we? Two signet rings in the father’s tomb?”

Chapter Text

Monsters and magic filled the cold night air, the sense of otherworldly beings as strong as the scent of hot apple cider. Unfamiliar howls and the ominous crunch of bone came from the maze - manufactured sounds, Harvey was sure - as he stood outside the entrance. He’d seen several people enter, but no one had come out. It shouldn’t unnerve him - it wasn’t reasonable to think that they’d gone missing or were hurt. But still. There he stood, staring at the entrance. 

“So are you going in, or what?” Harvey turned, finding Haley standing behind him. She’d done her makeup for the festival - orange eyeshadow and lipstick, and a large spiderweb tastefully drawn across her face. Suitably spooky, but still very much something he’d expect to find in a magazine. “I was planning on following you in but you haven’t moved in like, ten minutes.”

“I wasn’t aware there was a line.” Harvey replied, as he felt his face heat. “Go ahead of me. I think I’m going to get some cider instead.”

“I would prefer if you just went in. So I can follow you. Did you not hear that?”

Harvey was both embarrassed and suspicious. “Why did you want to follow me?”

“So you’d set off all the scary things and I could just follow you to the end. Alex bet me his gridball season pass ticket that I couldn’t finish the maze.”

“I see. Following me doesn’t seem to support the spirit of the bet, though.”

“Like I care.” She sighed. “So are we doing this, or what?”

No. He should say no, and go get that cider like he wanted. “Together.” He said, instead. “Not you following me. We’ll do it together.”

“Whatever.” She started walking, and Harvey walked beside her. Despite her sour attitude, she almost seemed to skip and looked around with curiosity. He, on the other hand, felt like this was the worst decision he could have made, and with every turn he felt the exit drifting further and further away. At least if he had gone in by himself, no one could see him make a fool of himself. Now he had a witness. 

“So you like gridball, then?” He said, hoping to distract himself from his growing nerves with smalltalk. 

“Eh. It’s okay. The players can be cute but I’ve never learned the rules.”

“So why do you want Alex’s season tickets?”

“Oh, I don’t want them for myself. I want them because he wants them, and I can probably ransom them back to him for something better.”

“I see.”

The maze ended in a large clearing, full of dead trees and spider webs. No actual spiders that he could see, and he and Haley meandered to the other side, side-stepping fake bones. “So why are you doing the maze, if it scares you so much? Can’t imagine you were bribed to enter.”

“Fear is… good for the body.” He hesitated, knowing how dumb it sounded, but unable to stop himself. “It’s an adrenaline response, and can be euphoric if handled properly. Allegedly.”

“Allegedly? So you’ve never experienced it?”

“No, fear has always felt like fear to me.”

“Huh.” Haley kept walking, ducking under a low hanging branch. “You know, I think I’m the same. Fear is fear. Nothing fun about it.”

At the end of the clearing stood the entrance to a  tomb. A fake one, Harvey was sure, as they were still somewhere in Pelican Town. It was taller than he was, made of an old, graying marble. He read the inscription aloud. “A place of rest for those who will never find it.” The stone door had cracked towards the bottom, broken out from the inside.

“I’m not crawling in there.” Haley said. 

Harvey shivered just thinking about it. But he swallowed, conjuring up enough sass to say, “I think you have to, if you want your gridball tickets.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms, as though stubbornness would cause the door to yield. Harvey tried desperately not to think of what lay beyond the door, his imagination already imagining slimy hands gripping him in the dark. They stood that way for several moments, silent. 

“We could go back for apple cider.” Haley said, more meekly than she had ever sounded.

“We could.” His voice didn’t sound like his own.

Neither of them moved. Instead, Haley sighed and grumbled. “If this ruins my skirt I’m going to make Alex buy me a new one.” She knelt down, careful to keep her clothes off the ground, and pulled herself through the cracked door. Harvey, either numb or stupid - he wasn’t sure which - crouched and followed her in.

Chapter Text

The bus popped and smoked as it pulled out of the school, smelling like a mix of engine oil and teenage sweat. When it was new it was one of the first diesel buses the county had bought but that had been twenty years ago. The old thing was showing its age, much like Pam herself, but it rumbled down the highway without much trouble.

The kids found their places and settled in. They were good kids, usually spending the first twenty minutes off the drive helping each other with homework. Sebastian and Sam, the oldest of the bunch, usually split off to work on math. It was Sam’s worst subject but Sebastian’s best and together they usually got him a solid B-. The middle two kids, Haley and Alex, were far more interested in their magazines than their schoolwork. Pam had to forbid Alex from attempting to workout on the bus after he had cracked a window with one of his dumbbells. 

Penny, Pam’s own daughter, was one of the younger ones, and rarely brought homework on the bus. She always had a book to read, usually quietly keeping to herself unless Maru needed help with her English homework. Then she turned into someone Pam had hardly ever seen - a little teacher, patiently explaining themes and meanings within the text. On more than one occasion, Pam had caught Penny reading Maru’s assigned books, just to help the girl with her essays. Pam didn’t know where that kindness came from. Certainly not from Pam, and definitely not from her father. It made Pam proud all the same.

After the required work was complete, the kids started getting rowdy again. Sam challenged Alex to an arm wrestle. Pam shouted at them to stay seated, the bus popping along the long road back to Pelican Town.

Chapter Text

The rain was cold as it pelted the ocean, the sound drowning out all others. There had been a possibility of snow, but the temperature hung just above freezing. Sebastian stood on the beach and watched, already soaked through despite his umbrella.

Something hard hit him in the back, and he spun around. In the gloom of the storm, he could just barely make out the shape of a man. Part of him wished he had brought a light, but he doubted he could keep a cigarette going in the storm. Another rock pelted him in the chest, hard enough that he groaned involuntarily. 

“Who are ye?”

Sebastian scoffed. “Willy, you crazy old man. It’s me.”

“Oh.” Willy hiccuped. “Thought chu were a ghost. Ghost of the mariner who haunts this beach.”

“You’ve been drinking again.” Sebastian sighed. “Can you make it to your cabin without falling in?”

“It’s not the drink I’m worried about!” Willy went on. “It’s the sea ghosts! Wanting vengeance!”

“Uh-huh.” Sebastian said, pulling Willy under his umbrella and walking the old man to the docks.

“Long ago, before Pelican Town had been built, this beach was used as a haven for passing ships needing fresh water. But one day, a unknowing fisherman left the bones of his catch upstream, poisoning the water! Everyone who drank from the water after took ill, though only one man died. His spirit still haunts this beach, warning people away from the water… by force, if needed.”

“Mmmhm.” Sebastian leaned into the door of Willy’s cabin, the heavy wood creaking as it opened. “Well, here you go. Safe from the ghosts.”

“For tonight, at least.” Willy stumbled inside, soaked, but with a merry twinkle in his eye. “‘Ave I ever told you about the curse of the six-spoked wheel? It’s a story that likes to be told on nights such as this.”

A dozen times, by now. Sebastian thought. “No, I don’t think you have.”

“Well, come, come inside. I’ll get the fire going and tell you the tale, so you’re prepared, should you ever hear the bosun’s whistle.” Sebastian set his umbrella by the door and pulled the heavy door closed behind him.

Chapter Text

Carving ice wasn’t the same as carving wood. For one, it was uncomfortably cold, and no matter how hard Leah worked, her fingers remained just on the edge of functionality. Secondly, she didn’t spend half as much time worrying about the end result. Whether this was her finest or worst piece, it didn’t matter - it would be destroyed with time. With that impermanence, however, she found she was enjoying herself more than ever. 

The mermaid was still only half formed - the lower half of the body had been easy. A long, smooth tail wrapped around a rock, which eventually shifted into a human torso. She’d spent longer than she needed carving out abs, but it was scientifically accurate. That was her defense, anyway. She liked running a finger over the smooth ridges in the ice, though she didn’t dare tell anyone that. 

The face was giving her the most difficulty. She stared at the blank oval, trying to imagine the ethereal face of the mermaid. She carved out the neck and chin, and a long wave of hair floating around her. But still the face remained blank. She needed a model, but it was early still, and the only people in the clearing were also working - Robin was carving ice as she was, and the others prepared for the fishing contest. It won’t last. Leah told herself. Carve anything. The first face that comes to mind. 

Knocking pieces away, she let the face take its own shape. The chin curved into a simple, unsmiling pair of lips. Then a bold nose and strong cheekbones. The eyes were difficult. Without color, the irises blended into the whites, but she left them as they were, rather than risk carving them too deep. Hours passed before she stepped down from her ladder but when she did, she was pleased.

Elliott shuffled over, wearing a thick coat and pants. He handed her a warm cup of cocoa. “You’ve put in a lot of work.” He said, jovially, despite his discomfort with the cold. “Are you going to do any more final touches?”

“I may define the shoulders a bit more.” She surveyed her work, top to bottom, quite pleased with herself. The mermaid was beautiful as the ice caught the sunlight. The defined muscles also gave the creature an intimidating stance. Tough and beautiful, like ice itself. 

“Hmm.” Elliott mumbled, glancing at her for permission to comment. She nodded for him to continue. “The mermaid’s face. It looks something like the farmer, does it not? When the muse strikes, eh?”

Heat rose to her cheeks as Leah quickly took a drink to hide her blush. She looked tentatively up at the mermaid’s face, and sure enough, saw the farmer’s features catching the sunlight like a mirror. “No.” She answered, too rushed to be convincing. “I don’t see the resemblance.”

“Well, hopefully they don’t, either.” Elliott said with a grin, tapping her shoulder and pointing down the road. “Because here they come.”

“Yep, it’s not done.” Leah tossed the hot cocoa back to Elliot, climbing the ladder once more. “Go strike up a conversation, will you?”

“But it looks good. A complement to be sure.”

“ Elliott .”

“Very well.” He sighed, the sound nearly covered by the crunch of his footsteps on the snow. Leah stood atop the ladder, chisel in hand. The longer she stared, the more prominent the farmer’s became, and she was unwilling to change it. A compliment. Elliott had said. A coincidence. She could claim coincidence. 

Chapter Text

Emily paced the kitchen, the energy in the room assaulting her soul and no amount of cleansing seemed to help. She had only one option left. “Haley! It’s your turn to do the dishes!”

She heard her sister groan from the living room. “Uh, I did them on Friday . You can wash your own gross zucchini noodler.” 

Emily sighed. She always washed the noodler herself after Haley cut herself on it. Not that she had used it recently anyway. She’d been working double shifts over the weekend and hadn’t been home. Frustrated, she walked to the living room. “Haley, you baked a three flavor cake and now we don’t have a single clean bowl, spatula or knife. I don’t mind doing my fair share, but I shouldn’t have to deal with the things you make for your blog.”

“It got rave reviews, by the way, thanks for asking.”

“I didn’t even get to try it, so I don’t think that means I should have to clean up after you.”

Haley looked up from her magazine then. “Oh, there’s plenty left in the fridge. It’s in the weird shelf on the bottom. The apricot nectar cake turned out the best, I think.”

Emily knew a peace offering when she saw it. Looking at her little sister, she remembered how lonely she had been growing up, with so few friends and no one who really shared her interests. There had been a time when the two of them were close, when they were younger and there wasn’t this rift between them. She could give a peace offering, too. “I’ll wash the dishes if you dry them?”

Haley sighed, putting the magazine down with a flourish. “Fine. We can share the leftover cake when we’re done.”

Chapter Text

Shane closed the door on the chicken run, making sure all his girls were inside. He could hear them softly cooing to each other as they settled into the soft hay. It was still plenty bright out but the wind was going to pick up before long and he’d rather they were safely inside.

“Uncle Shane!” Jas called to him, bounding through the snow. “Uncle Shane! Can we make a snowman?”

He grunted, though quiet enough that Jas didn’t hear. He wanted to go inside, get some feeling back into his toes and settle himself in front of the TV. He grimaced as he looked at Jas, bundled up tightly like a present, all joy and expectation. “Sure, kiddo. We can make a snowman.”

Several hours later, they had made a snowman, a snowgirl, a snow cat and a snow chicken, which Jas insisted on naming Charlie. They’d carefully gathered icicles for the cat’s whiskers and colorful leaves for Charlie’s tail. “Give the snowman your hat, Uncle Shane. Or else he’ll get cold.” Jas took off her scarf, wrapping it around the snowgirl’s neck. Shane obliged, halfway hoping he could use it as an excuse to go inside. Stepping back, they looked at their snow creations and Jas squealed with joy. “Now they’re a little family.”

For once, his cynicism failed him. “Yeah, we made a little family, didn’t we?” He picked her up, placing her on his shoulders, like he had when she was younger. She dusted snow into his hair and he laughed, taking a few more moments to look at the snowman and snowgirl again before carrying Jas inside.

Chapter Text

The Night Market was lit up like a circus - colorful lights glowed brightly against the falling snow, like tiny disco balls waving in the ocean breeze. Maru clutched her mug of coffee as she passed between the boats, examining the wares. She passed by paintings and forign plants, everything interesting but not what she wanted. 

The fleet of boats only came once a year and set up shop for three days. It was hardly enough time to look at all the wares, especially since the stores only opened after sunset. Maru couldn’t imagine why. It was the middle of winter, and even bundled as she was, any exposed skin stung with the cold. They must all be vampires. That’s the only explanation. It wasn’t, but she still hadn’t found what she was looking for and the night wasn’t endless. 

A previous year a bookseller had come, with warm, soft books she had protected from the salty air. It had been a wondrous find, and Maru had spent all her hours perusing the shelves and crates. She had bought as many as she could carry, many of them gifts for Penny, though she had a few books for herself, too. 

Finally she saw the boat - or ship, rather - seemingly immobile in the light waves. Encased in metal, it appeared more like a bunker than a ship, but the colorful, muted lights of the market gave it a whimsical feel. Amphitrite blazed in elegant gold lettering along the side, though somewhat marred by the less elegant “Deep Sea Fishing Tours” sign that hung next to her. 

“How’s the ocean this year?” She asked the captain by way of greeting. 

“Oh, it’s ripe with sea life. Are you interested in fishing?”

“I’ll just have the tour, if I can.”

“But of course. Plenty of ways to appreciate all the ocean has to offer. Climb inside and we’ll be on our way.”

Climbing into the submarine was difficult, but she managed to not spill her coffee. There was only one room that she could see; the ceiling was low and the walls were close together, but along the floor were several windows, though only the darkness of the harbor bed could be seen. Several specialty fishing poles were propped along the outside, to allow riders to fish without the cabin losing pressure. 

The vessel was a marvel of modern engineering, the metal side capable of handling the pressures of the deep sea. She could study it for hours, but she only had a few nights each year. The colorful lights of the Night Market vanished as the metal hatch closed and the submarine rumbled away from the docks. The tightness of the space made her queasy, but she was finally right where she wanted to be. 

Chapter Text

Though the sun glimmered brightly off the snow, the day was still quite cold. Midwinter had set in with full force with snowy days and freezing nights. Alex still tried to work up a sweat shoveling paths through town, though some parts of him were warmer than others. 

His first priority was always his grandfather’s favorite places. From his front door to the mailbox, then to Pierre’s store. He always thought Pierre should pay him for keeping the route clear, as his other customers clearly appreciated keeping their boots clean. Then he’d clear a path to the clinic, just in case. After a heavy snowfall, the path could take most of the day, though most of the time he was done by the noon gridball game. 

“Um, hello, Alex.”

Alex stopped mid-scoop, realizing Penny would be pelted with a facefull of snow if he tossed it. And while he thought the image might be funny, he knew it would be mean, too, and decided against it. “Hey, Penny.” He said simply, taking the moment to catch his breath. 

“How goes shoveling today?” 

Today the wind was colder than the air, and the drifting snow seemed to undo his hard work. Even now, stopping for only a few moments had caused his sweat to catch the wind and cool against his skin. He disliked the feeling, but tried not to let it get to him. “It’s cold. And the wind’s rough.” He stared at her, somewhat expectantly, hoping to get back to work. 

“Yes, it is a blustery day, isn’t it?” She chuckled to himself, wondering what kind of a person uses a word like blustery. Penny did, apparently, though he wasn’t sure quite what that meant. “I just wanted to thank you for clearing the paths so regularly. It makes going to the general store so much nicer.”

“Oh, well. You’re welcome.” He shook some snow from his boots. When he looked up again, Penny held out a green and yellow bundle to him. “What’s this?”

“I knitted you a scarf. To thank you for shoveling the street. Your favorite gridball team is the Parakeets, right? I tried to match their colors.”

He was so shocked that she knew that about him, he almost forgot his manners. “Thank you.” He said quietly, taking the scarf and putting it on. It was still warm and very soft against his neck. There had been a time his grandmother insisted he wear a scarf every time he went out, but after losing several of them, she stopped insisting. 

“Try to remember to wear it. I hope you like it.” Penny smiled, sidestepping him to make her way to the store.

“I do like it. And you got the colors right.” He smiled, grabbing his shovel again, deciding he had time to clear a path to the library today, too.

Chapter Text

The photographs had been buried for years, shoved in a box under his bed, kicked to the back. But now, Sebastian was leaving his room for good - he only needed the deposit to clear his bank account and he’d have his own apartment. He was tossing most of his things, keeping his books and his games, but most everything else was going in the trash. It felt liberating to be free of his past and the mistakes that went with it. His highschool notebooks, his old clothes, his knickknacks. Gone. Now a blank space he could fill with something new. 

The box under his bed had been one of the last things he found. The box itself was nice, still sturdy after being left for so long. He remembered when his mother gave it to him. He’d been too young, the box holding too much for his young mind. At the time, though, he was desperate to understand and was grateful for the box, even if it ruined him at the same time. 

He was tempted to throw the whole box into the trash. Why should he keep it? He hadn’t looked at it in years. It wouldn’t hold the epiphany it had when he was young. But still, he sat on his bed and traced his name carved into the lid. He opened it. It looked just as he remembered it, the small, half filled album taking up most of the space. His pacifier and first pair of shoes. Three small ceramic molds of his hands taken at birth, then his first and second birthdays. He knew why there wasn’t more. 

He remembered how insignificant the box had felt when his mother had given it to him. He’d been eight. Maru was two. She had baby blankets and toys, her growth charted by month in pictures that hung in the kitchen. Sebastian had nothing of his younger years. The absence of those things grew inside his small body until he cried. First quietly. Then louder, until his mother sat him down and gave him the small box. 

Absently he flipped through the photo album. Most of the pictures were of him - hardly professional photos, they were grainy and poorly focused, but still, it was him as a baby. The earlier ones had pictures of his father - his rigid smile and long black hair. There wasn’t a single picture of his mother in any of the pictures; she’d been behind the camera, every time. He guessed she regretted that, as every year she took a picture with him on his birthday. Sometimes Maru was behind the camera and sometimes Demetrius, but every year since they’d moved to Pelican Town, he had a picture with her. 

In his youth, he might’ve held on to the anger that he and Maru’s upbringing were so different. But now, on the verge of starting his new life, he let it go, and accepted that his mother, at least, had tried to do better. Soon it was all going to be in the past, anyway, and he didn’t want to think about it anymore.

He dropped the shoes, pacifier and ceramics into the trash. He didn’t need them. He paused before dropping the album, but in the end, tossed it, too. He held the box. Black ashwood, stained to highlight the dark grains of the wood, his name carved and painted a light grey. It held more of his mother’s spirit than the pictures without her in it. He also rather liked the color, and gently placed the box in his keep pile. 

Chapter Text

Snow fell in heavy drifts outside Harvey’s clinic. He stared outside, sipping his coffee, trying to enjoy the scene. It was pretty from this side of the window, where he was safe and warm, the clinic’s generator humming along to keep his equipment running. The rest of the town had been without power since the blizzard rolled in last night, setting his nerves on edge.

Maru typed away quietly behind him. He felt terrible dragging her away from her family on a holiday, but he needed her here, just in case the worst should happen. She hadn’t complained, just nodded resolutely and packed her things. Her family’s house, high up along a winding road, was sturdy and suited for this kind of weather. They would be safe there, he had reassured her. Maru had simply laughed and said that her mother would be terribly offended if he had implied otherwise. 

The door to the clinic opened, bringing in a gust of cold, wet air. The cheerful jingle of the bell felt out of place with his mood. Lewis groaned as he shut the door behind him, stomping his feet as though the ground itself had brought the weather. “Awful. Just awful. Can’t believe we had to cancel the feast.”

“How is everyone?” Harvey asked impatiently. While he expected if something was wrong the mayor would have said so, the canceled feast was still the furthest thing from his mind. 

“All fine, all fine. Gus took in Elliott and Pam. Penny decided to stay with Emily and Haley. Everyone else is warm and has plenty of candles and firewood.”

“And Evelyn and George?”

“Evelyn has soup on the stove and George was complaining about missing his shows. All’s well.”

Harvey nodded, hoping the knot in his stomach might smooth out with the good news. He stared out the window, taking another sip of coffee. “And Marnie?”

Harvey didn’t miss the subtle change in Lewis’s expression. “Also fine. Her barn is warmer than my house, I imagine. If things get worse we could hold up there.”

“It’s a shame the community center isn’t in good shape. We could have used that as a shelter, instead of relying on the goodwill of citizens.” Harvey knew mentioning the community center was a low blow, but at this moment he didn’t quite care about the mayor’s feelings. 

“The boiler is still in good condition.” Maru pipped in. “I looked at it a few weeks back. We’d just need to get the walls repaired and the insulation reinstalled. My mom could probably get it done before next winter.”

“Your mother’s prices are outrageous.” Lewis snapped, before he caught himself. “Well, not outrageous, I suppose. But we don’t have that kind of money in the budget, I’m afraid.”

“MmHmm.” Harvey took another sip of coffee. This was a risk of living in the country, he supposed, and everyone was handling it with grace. Still, as soon as the snow stopped and they could get a snowplow going, he was going to make the rounds himself. Until then, he could only wait and hope.

Chapter Text

It was the anniversary of the day Asa quit working for Joja Mart. He still remembered it vividly. He worked in accounting, taking numbers and making them fit the way upper management wanted. It had been nearly the end of the year: reports upon reports were due. He’d worked twelve hour days without stopping for two weeks. Still the numbers weren’t lining up. Still his managers rejected his reports. 

I’m not responsible for making shareholders happy. I’m here to make sure we don’t get sued. He typed into an email. He deleted it. Here is the report per your corrections, and sent the eighth draft to his boss. Twenty minutes later that same report returned to his inbox, corrections needed. 

He hadn’t quit so much as he simply went for a walk and didn’t come back. 

Asa placed the prismatic shard at the base of his grandfather’s shrine. The stone glimmered every color against the pristine white snow - a bright spot of color in the sleeping forest. “Thank you for everything, grandfather.” When he quit Joja, he had no plan. It seemed like fate or magic that he had used his sudden free time to go through a few boxes he had never unpacked. And he found the letter. The deed. The scrawling script of a man who had died a decade ago. 

His parents thought he was being unrealistic. A few weeks off and you’ll be so bored, you’ll be dying to go back to work. They were wrong, of course. By Yoba, they had never been so wrong. For one, cleaning up chicken poop was far better than answering emails.

And two, he fell in love. 

Emily waited patiently behind him, humming to herself. She wore a bright pink winter coat and a scarf of every color except pink. As he walked back towards her, she smiled, as beautiful as a star. “How is your grandfather doing these days?” She took his gloved hands, warm and smaller than his own.

“He’s doing well. He’s happy to see the farm flourishing.” Asa didn’t hear his voice anymore, not like he had in the beginning. That was good, Emily had told him. He deserved to rest. 

“Do you want to stay a little longer?”

“No, I think he wants his peace. Let’s go home.”