Chapter Text
Ame hasn’t been at Grandmother Wren’s cottage for very long, but she’s already fallen into a routine. Taro wakes her up, she eats breakfast, cares for the animals, cleans a little, then runs off to play on her own. There aren’t any other kids to play with, but that’s alright. Ame is very good at keeping herself entertained. Plus, the woods are full of treasures (and friends!).
So when her routine is interrupted suddenly one morning, the change is met with annoyance and confusion in equal measures. At first, she thinks Taro has let her sleep in. The light in her room is so bright, her eyes sting a little as she blinks blearily. Then she thinks she might be early, she can’t smell breakfast cooking, she can’t really smell anything.
But she can hear, and what she hears is the tell-tale clicking of Taro’s talons on the floor. That wily bird. When she’d first arrived, the bird had been a novelty, always appearing where he shouldn’t be and disappearing from where he should be. She’d even tried staying up late and getting up early to catch him coming in, to see if he was using his talons to turn the doorknob, magic, or just Grandmother Wren opening the door for him. Everytime, he appeared right as she dozed off, or blinked, or turned her head.
But now! She can hear him approaching, now she can catch him in the act! Throwing herself into a sitting position with a ferocity only known to small children, the door wobbled and swayed in front of her.
No, she was the one swaying, and it was making her dizzy. Flopping backwards with an oof, Ame closed her eyes, furrowing her brow in frustration. The moment she closed her eyes, Taro stepping onto her belly, his talons poking her gently. But he didn’t crow.
Opening her eyes just a little, wary of the way the room had spun before, Ame peeked at the old rooster. He stared back, his head tipped to one side. Stepping forward and craning his neck, Taro peered at her closer, studying her.
Ame narrowed her eyes, suspicious. Probably the rooster was magic, and was working his magic on her. That explained why she couldn’t sit up! It was a ploy to keep her from discovering his secrets, and any moment now he would crow with victory…
Any minute now…
Taro hopped off, clucking gently. Ame pushed herself up slowly, supporting herself with her arms, watching him.
“What are you planning?” She grumbled, not trusting this apparent truce.
Taro only clucked again, tapping his way over to the closed bedroom door. He pecked at it twice, and Ame sighed.
“Alright, alright. I’m getting up.” She grumbled, pushing against the floor. Her tiny body felt too heavy, and the floor seemed further away than normal.
“Did I grow?” Ame wondered aloud. It made sense, she couldn’t stay small forever …but everything else seemed the same height, so unless she grew at the same time the rest of the room shrunk, which…wait was that possible ?
Interrupting her stunned inspection of the room, the door swung open. It wasn’t Taro’s doing, much to Ame’s disappointment. Grandmother Wren shuffled into the room, surveying Ame with a careful eye.
“Oh dear. Well, it appears Taro was right.” Grandmother Wren murmured. “That settles it, no chores for you today. Go back to sleep, Ame. I’ll bring you some jook and tea to have in your nest.”
Ame stared back in confusion. “What? Why?”
“You’re sick dear. Just a little cold, but all the same. You’d better rest.” Grandmother Wren told her gently.
“I’m not sick! I’m just a little…” She paused, contemplating the morning. “Ok, maybe I’m sick. But only a little!” Ame insisted.
“Yes, only a little. But you still need to rest.” Grandmother Wren replied.
“But I don’t want to stay in bed all day. That’ll be boring! And what about all the chores? Who’ll do them?” Ame whined.
Grandmother Wren raised an eyebrow. “And how do you suppose I got all the chores done before you got here?”
“...magic?” Ame whispered. She certainly would not be resting in bed if Grandmother Wren was going to be doing magic. Already she was planning ways to sneak out of her room to watch.
“A little bit of magic, and a lot of work.” Grandmother Wren chuckled, shaking her head slightly. “Alright, if resting in bed is too boring for you, you can come sit at the table.”
“Yes! I’ll rest a lot better at the table.” Ame promised, smiling widely. She pushed herself to her feet, wobbling for a moment before sitting back down heavily. Pouting just a little, she started to try again, determined to get to the table.
Grandmother Wren smiled gently. Bending down, she scooped Ame (and half of her nest) into her arms, holding the little girl close. With Taro leading the way, she walked into the kitchen, setting the bundle of blankets, pillows, plushies, and child down in one of the chairs. Grandmother Wren inspected the pile, then began arranging the assorted soft things so that they were supporting Ame, helping her stay sitting up.
Ame wriggled slightly, freeing her arms from the tangle of blankets, and pushing a pillow off of her head so she could see. In front of her sat her favorite bowl, full of jook with minced garlic and thin slivers of ginger. Beside it was one of Grandmother Wren’s beautiful tea cups, the steam rising from it soothing her even before taking a sip.
As she sipped and ate, Ame watched Grandmother Wren putter about the kitchen, sweeping the floors, watering and feeding the plants, coming and going to care for the animals. All the things Ame would normally be doing. Too soon, her breakfast was done, and there was significantly less magic than she’d been expecting.
Grandmother Wren returned from feeding the goats to see Ame wiggling, trying to extricate herself from her nest. Upon seeing Grandmother Wren, she froze, eyes wide. Grandmother Wren simply raised an eyebrow.
“If I find something for you to do sitting down, will you stay in the nest?” She asked.
Ame nodded, and Grandmother Wren sighed. She left the room, returning a moment later with a basket of herbs. Sitting that on the table, she gathered Ame’s breakfast dishes and replaced them with a clean bowl.
“Take the leaves off the stems and put them in the bowl. The stems can go back in the basket. Will this keep you busy?” Grandmother Wren instructed.
Ame nodded as vigorously as she could without making the room spin. She settled back into her pile and started stripping the leaves from the herbs. The air filled with the sharp, clean scent of fresh rosemary, thyme, and basil. Ame sank into the repetitive motion, her hands moving almost without thought or intention. She slowed, taking longer between each stem, then between each leaf, until finally she stopped entirely, slipping off to sleep. Without Ame realizing it, Grandmother Wren had worked the most powerful magic of all: convincing a child to rest.