Work Text:
Gale arrived home from Blackstaff one winter evening to find his wife standing on a chair in his study, a garland of winter white and blue ribbons speckled with tiny stars dangling from her arm as she hung them around the door frame. With a smile, he realized that this was their first winter solstice together.
He stepped closer to Anastasia and the chair, gazing up at her. “You know, my sweet songstress, I could do this for you with magic.” Violet strands of Weave danced at his fingertips as he prepared a spell.
“And miss an opportunity to fall dramatically into the arms of a handsome professor?” she asked. “I think not.”
“Have it your way then,” Gale chuckled, allowing the magic to dissipate and instead picking up the end of the garland to untangle a knot for her. Once it was hung with a large bow in the center, he helped her down from the chair, not dramatically.
“There,” Anastasia said proudly, stepping back to admire her work, “that should keep my muse from brooding through winter.”
Gale narrowed his eyes playfully at her. “I can't recall having brooded once since a certain flame-haired bard came to live here.”
She turned to him with a smile, soft and warm, the one meant only for him. “Then I've done my job admirably. Now, come see what I've done with the balcony!”