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It was winter time, which meant the Ruindall castle and all around it was covered in a soft blanket of white, which glittered faintly in the sunlight. Delicate icicles had begun to form as the powdered snow began to melt, hanging here and there to catch the light like decorative glass suncatchers that sent tiny rainbows dancing across the surrounding white.
“I’ve always wondered how that particular tradition came about…” Xan hummed thoughtfully as a particular plant in the garden caught his eye..
“What was that?” Ansel asked, snow crunching softly under his feet as he stepped back over to see what plant had drawn his friends' attention. The two had decided to walk about the gardens this late afternoon, observing the usual greens and array of flowers now mostly asleep beneath the snowy blanket. They were bundled up against the cold, and Ansel was showing the curious wizard which plants slumbered, and which evergreens thrived among them in the cold, almost like a prize hunt really.
“Well you see, this one up here? It’s one of the obligate hemiparasitic plants in the Santalales order. It has attached itself to this tree which is now the host to extract water and nutrients from it.” Xan began to explain as he motioned to the plant he was talking about. “Despite doing so, it won’t actually kill the host tree, which makes sense because then it kills its food source.
As a gardener in his own right, not to mention the gardener of this very garden, Ansel was quite in the know about the plants that grew there. But there was something about listening to Xan go on and on about little facts and details that made Ansel feel like he was learning it anew all over again.
There was just something about the enthusiasm, fascination, almost childlike wonder that-
“-don’t you agree?” Xan asked, the question catching Ansel off guard.
“Why yes of course.” He agreed on impulse, not wanting Xan to think he hadn’t been paying attention, for he had most certainly been hanging on every word that ah… oh dear.
“You do?” Xan asked, seemingly a little surprised and… almost a little disheartened?
“Well, I-” Ansel’s cheeks turned a little red as he cleared his throat. “My apologies, I was actually admiring the foliage and may have missed that last part.”
“Oh.” Was the response paired with a chuckle, but a hint of relief that had one of Ansel’s ears giving a small flicker towards the old man.
“I was going over the tradition based around these plants, it’s mostly based around a reelkind winter celebration, but often when two people are caught beneath it, it’s tradition for them to kiss.” Xan repeated for clarification sake as he motioned back up to the plant.
“Oh.” It was Ansel’s turn to give the short answer, though this time it was with an edge of confusion, still feeling as if he’d missed something. “Wait a moment, what is it about a parasitic plant that has people wanting to kiss under it.”
“I’m not sure honestly, though I was curious as to whether or not you thought it foolish.”
This final bit of clarification had two thoughts immediately colliding in Ansel’s mind. One was he had replied yes to this initially, and Xan had almost seemed dispirited by this. The second was that when Ansel had admitted to his ignorance, Xan had relaxed, seeming almost relieved. His ears gave a small flick up and down, and any red that had left his cheeks was slowly starting to return.
“Out of curiosity, why do you ask?”
“Well as a person who similarly likes gardening, I was wondering what your thoughts might be on ah…” Xan trailed off, rubbing mittened hands together as if to warm them, but Ansel didn’t miss the brief flicker of warm amber eyes glancing upwards before looking off to the side. Following the upward glance, Ansel found that there was more than one growth of mistletoe in his garden, and the two of them had ended up directly beneath it.
“Ah.”
“Yes, I ah, well… I mean it’s not a tradition or celebration that I’ve taken part in before.”
“Neither have I, but then again I am a toon, don’t think I’ve even heard of it-”
“Oh no I imagine not haha, just something celebrated across the ocean somewhere…”
“No need to bring about new traditions over here.”
“Of course not, we have our own after all.”
Without quite intending to, the two trailed off for a moment, both glancing upward at the green plant with white berries that still had a faint dusting of snow despite the sunlight filtering through bare branches and few leaves of evergreens.
“You know… it’s not always bad to try new things…” Ansel found himself mumbling so softly he wasn’t sure if Xan would hear him, though he heard the other shift, and was certain he could feel Xan’s gaze upon him as if it were the sun itself. …certainly would explain why his face was getting so hot…
“Not that we-” he quickly tried to backpedal, only for Xan to jump in.
“I-it can be nice to try new things, new traditions…”
“It’s how we learn and grow.”
“Taking in new information.”
Alright this was getting a little silly, and Ansel wasn’t entirely sure how to say that outloud. They were two grown adult men, and he was fairly certain they were on the same page about all this, and yet they were dancing around this like two shy teenagers who didn’t know-
All his thoughts stopped short as Ansel felt something brush his hand, and he quickly glanced down in hopes of a distraction, only to find that Xan had removed his mitten, and had reached over to gently hold Ansel’s pinkly with his own. It was such a simple, small gesture, barely a touch, yet Ansel was starting to feel like he was going to overheat in his coat with how red his face was turning.
With his head still slightly turned away, he reached over another finger, leaving one still hooked to Xan’s pinky, but then also holding ring fingers. This seemed to be all the encouragement Xan needed, and Ansel felt him unhook fingers, their tips brushing against the center of Ansel’s palm, then brushed outward and through his fingers, lacing them together and clasping warmly, before giving a small squeeze.
Smitten.
Oh by the glint of light in the snow about them, he was over one hundred years old and he was smitten enough to have hearts dancing and twirling down around him in soft flurries, as if they snowflakes drifting down to join the rest of the snow about them.
“Mister Ansel King,” Xan teased gently, causing Ansel to give a snort, not quite breaking the mood, but almost… easing it.
“Yes, Alexander Adieu?”
“May I- er- you’re… did you shrink?”
“What?”
Ansel blinked, looking at Xan to find himself suddenly at eye level with the wizard. Unsure what might have happened, or where even to start trying to figure this out, he promptly looked down to see if perhaps he’d stepped into a sinkhole or somesuch, and simply hadn’t… hadn’t…
“Ah…” Ansel sounded, and any red that had left his face was quickly returning.
“What is it?” Xan asked curiously, looking down as well. Since Ansel wasn’t panicking, this wasn’t serious, so he wasn’t going to rein in his curiosity.
“Oh… oh it’s… I melted the snow under my feet.” Ansel said plainly despite being more than a little self conscious about it.
“You just…” Xan began to echo, and despite not being a toon, Ansel could swore he heard the gears ticking around in the mans brain.
One of them gave a snort.
Then the other.
They barely lasted a moment more before bursting out laughing together, the whole silliness and seriousness of the moment simply too much to do much more than simply laugh at it all. Though when they were done, almost wheezing from laughing so hard out in the cold, sharp air, Xan looked to Ansel, giving such a warm smile that Ansel was certain he was warmed by it. His hand, still free of its mitten, lifted to cup Ansel’s cheek, calloused fingers gently rubbing against sharp jaw and bony cheek.
“Ansel…”
“Yes.”
“May-”
“Yes, that was- I meant-”
One more breath of a laugh, their faces close enough that the warm breath of air that escaped them in the sound mixed together in the air between them, before they closed the space and pressed cool chapped lips together. Ansel lifted his own hand to carefully card fingers back through dreadlocks before resting to the back of his head, while pressing into the kiss just a little more, certain he might swoon and fall into the snow if he wasn’t careful. Oh but it was hard to be careful, when getting lost in a kiss was so wonderful.
…perhaps they should try more of these holiday traditions…
