Chapter Text
Ah, the Nine Days of Goodfest and Winterwill. An annual tradition in Bog’s Hollow to celebrate the end of the year and the beginning of the new one. Each day was meant to celebrate one of the Nine Good Gods – however, with time and change with the Queen of Starlight’s reign, celebrations slowly morphed from dedicated, deeply religious rituals and into something more communal. Of course, those two still held those Nine Gods in their hearts would act as they wished, but the queen decreed that enforced worship of the gods was no longer mandatory, and thus, the community evolved.
That still did not mean that every festive tradition was removed, however, and Tadius’s caring but unfortunately dull ramblings reminded her of that. “I trust you have written your speech? Not that I’m implying a queen as dedicated as you would have forgotten, but it’s easy to assume that one can improvise these things—”
He was fussing about her, as a queen’s attendant was wont to do, but with such un-Tadius-ness about him that Ella swatted his hands away as they meddled with the collar of her snow-white dress. “Yes, Tadius, I have prewritten today’s speech.”
“And have you—”
“And memorised it within an inch of its life.”
“What about the—”
Ella placed a hand on his shoulder, finally and effectively silencing him. “You are a good and diligent man, Tadius. But stop acting like my mother. I am a grown woman.”
Tadius stammered a few times in a way that made Ella’s heart soar with victory, before sighing with a rather sorry blush. “I apologise, Ella. I’m not intending to undermine you, it’s just… this is the first Goodfest without the usual script that the old king’s family attended to. For once, I am rather out of my depth, which is precisely where I’m not meant to be.”
Well, at least he could recognise it. Ella chuckled softly, taking her time to fuss with his own collar. A little caring, but also a little tasting of his own medicine. “And I have complete faith that you will be able to rise back out of it. I understand your nerves, but I believe in the goodness and understanding of our people. So long as we remain confident in ourselves, they shall follow suit.”
Tadius let out a soft sigh once more, that stony frown relaxing just by a few millimetres. Small victories. “You’re quite right, my queen.”
“That’s ‘Ella’ to you.” She tutted, brushing her hand a little more harshly over his shoulder. “And besides, all this fussing over me when you look like this! You can’t tell me you’re wearing this ridiculous thing to the celebrations.”
Sure, the luminous blue ruffles were a rather amusing sight to look at, but Ella preferred her amusement to not be at the expense of the crown. Tadius glanced down with a practiced tiredness. “It’s the Crown Attendant’s official Goodfest garb… as requested by the old king’s family. Something about blue and winter… I’ll be honest, I just closed my eyes and focussed on getting through the various ceremonies.”
Ella hummed. “Well. As your present queen, I demand you change into something less…”
“Loud?”
“Hideous.”
Tadius huffed out a chuckle. “As Ella demands. I shall meet you at the carriage shortly.”
When Tadius did join Ella in her carriage, it was in a much nicer outfit – a clean, jewel green coat with sliver embellishments, a matching pair of trousers, and he had swapped his capelet for a white one matching Ella’s dress. He looked festive, part of the royal congregation and – if Ella dared to admit – rather dashing. Sort of like a prince, if only her previous experiences of princes had not been so diminishing. Regal was perhaps a better word. Handsome.
Maybe she was a little more stressed than she wanted to let on.
Tadius closed the door and smiled – nervously? – and straightened his capelet. “Apologies for the wait. Shall we?”
Ella, unable to quite find a comment, compliment or even vaguely opinionated statement that did not embarrass her in numerous ways, merely nodded. “Yes. Onwards.”
The town square was a lively place, a small stage set up for the queen and her royal party which the space around were filled with the townsfolk all dressed up in their celebratory clothes. Heavy, patterned scarves were wound tight around every neck, silver jewellery that glimmered like stars hanging from necks and wrapped around wrists, and steaming cups of spiced tea were keeping chilled hands from becoming frozen. A great clamour was in their air – one of sheer merriment, overlapping conversations melding into each other. Reunions happened at every street corner, friends and family who just haven’t seen you in so long becoming reacquainted just before the new year.
The thrill and nerves of performing a speech to an audience long since faded from Ella, her two-year tenure as queen quickly granting her many opportunities for grandiose speeches to the masses. She was still sat in the carriage waiting for her loyal knight to come and guide her to the stage. Tadius remained silent next to her, gazing out at the crowds. “Goodness… I don’t think I’ve seen a Goodfest speech quite this animated.”
Ella chuckled. “Well, this does mark a change from the old ways of the Nine Good Gods. Whether or not it’s all positive, it is a spectacle.”
She watched snow fall from the sky in soft specks, not heavy enough to be anything other than a joyous sight. Thankfully, the cobblers were stocked enough to fix up all the town’s winter boots, even if Ella herself had no need for any other pairs of shoes.
Tadius hummed in approval. “It does appear to be mostly positive. Which… is a feat in itself.” He let out a small laugh, his breath curling in wisps from the chill. “I can’t remember such a reception. I suppose at your first one, but… even then, it was more a formality than anything.”
Ella swallowed. “Do you think this is a good thing, then? That I’ve made all these changes?”
He looked over at her, a wideness in his eyes. “I do. I absolutely do. There was a… mechanical quality to the way worship was treated under the old king. Something as simple as making it a cultural element rather than systemic… it’s small, but it’s groundbreaking.” He broke into a smile. “And if I didn’t think it was, I would have stopped you from doing it at all.”
Ella wrinkled her nose, the fierceness of the moment thankfully gone. “Acting against your queen’s orders? For shame, Tadius.”
Tadius chuckled. “Someone stop me.”
A small yet harsh knock at the carriage door made them both turn. At not seeing the caller in question, Tadius leaned his head out of the window, quickly finding the exact person they had been waiting for. “Ah, Sir Crumb. Lovely to see you.”
“Thank you, sir!”
Tadius opened the door and climbed out of the carriage to kneel and shake Crumb’s hand, a warm smile on his lips just at seeing the furry little knight. “Right on time, I was beginning to wonder where you were. Anything of note?”
Crumb shook his head fiercely. “None at all! The crowds seem very excited to have my lady be present, as am I.” His big, beady eyes turned up to Ella in the carriage, and he gasped ever so sweetly. “Oh, my lady! You look—” He turned away for a moment, muttering something to himself, before turning back. “—like a snowy goddess who came from the great skies above to, ah, grace us with her presence!”
Ella chuckled. “Why thank you, Sir Crumb. Did Lord Hop-A-Lot assist you with the compliment?”
With a great sigh, Crumb nodded. “I just don’t know how he gets so poetic.”
He hopped up onto the rim of the wheel, holding out a little paw to assist Ella out of the carriage. She took it gratefully, swirling her silver skirts out of the way, her glass slippers glittering against the snow. “The lord has had a lot of practice and experience with poetry. And besides, I am quite endeared to your compliments, Sir Crumb.”
“Really, my lady?”
“Really.”
Crumb beamed like the sun. “Then I—I think you are very pretty, my lady! Beautiful, even! Like a pretty icicle.”
Ella giggled. “Thank you, my kind Sir Crumb.”
Tadius chuckled too, closing the carriage door behind her. “Well then, shall we?”
He took his place half a step behind her as Crumb lead the way to the stage, the various royal advisors and guards making a clear path for her group. She briefly saw Hop-A-Lot’s face in the crowd, offering a nod that felt far too slow and regal for such a dear friend, but she would be sure to apologise afterwards. As she walked up onto the stage, the crowd began to swell into applause, happy cheers and chants of her name echoing each footstep.
And while she would rather not have such an idolised role, it was admittedly rather nice to hear the support.
When she stood before them and raised her hand, the crowd quietened down into a warm listening. She could still feel Tadius at her back, Crumb moving to the side of the stage as the heads of the great houses took their places behind the three of them. Lord Hop-A-Lot’s feet made a rather spectacular slap as he settled into position and Lord Grizzwald caught her eye with a warm smile. Encouraged and ready, Ella let out a small exhale.
“People of Bog’s Hollow,” she began, “it is an honour and a delight to see so many celebrating faces before me today. I recall this very same speech from where you are standing now – talks of greatness, of powers beyond our recognition but not beyond our worship. A speech to introduce the festivities.”
The crowd nodded in recognition of past years, a few older folks grumbling about how dreary those damn speeches had always been. Ella agreed, although it would have not been in her best interest to express that notion. “And I will not speak of those today. They are important to our past and culture, but what I wish today is to talk of our present.”
She gestured her arms wide, opening them to the crowd of listening faces at her feet. “Right now, we are a community. A community that survives any threat and any hardship. A community that serves and protects each other. And, more importantly, a community that finds the time to celebrate together.
“I understand that this year may hold differences to years past. However, I ask you now to place your trust in me as your queen. I ask you to hold the spirit of the festivities in your heart – of celebration, of giving, of closing out the old year to welcome in the next. Together, we shall celebrate everyone, regardless of beliefs or differences. I have been among you as a lady, a destitute and wandering soul, and now as a queen. And if you see anyone today, I trust and know that you shall celebrate with them, regardless of their station.”
A few in the crowds hung their heads, assumedly ashamed at the way they had treated poor, stinky Ella Ashmore – notably Sir Preston, one of the few to apologise to Ella personally after her ascension into power. But, Ella smiled warmly. “I aim to usher this community into a time of prosperity, trust and happiness. And now, I encourage all three onto these nine days. Thank you, and let the festivities commence.”
With her final words, a polite yet eager applause began, and Ella turned back to face Tadius. She caught his eye with an eyebrow raise that she hoped was enough to convey her mild terror, which he reciprocated with a pleasant smile. “Excellently said, Ella. Shall we?”
She nodded appreciatively, letting him briefly place a hand on her back to guide her down the stairs.
Bog’s Hollow’s celebrations were never to be scoffed at. The Old King’s family was never one to pass down a damn good dance, drink or frivolity, and while they often took it to an extreme that pleased no one, there was an inclination towards merriment than even the Good Queen Ella could not dismiss. And, frankly, nor did she want to.
There were stalls with games lined up along the shopfronts, ranging from making your own mini snowmen to take home to tests of strength and endurance. Green apple bobbing, learning how to swordfight from a certain froggish lord, singing telegrams from The Whippoorwills, all kinds of activities and joys that Ella had forgotten how to enjoy in the last few years. Too long attempting to keep her skin on her body, plus a year of managing an entire queendom to truly appreciate how far she had come.
But, she joined in now. Tadius diligently held her hair back as she tried her best to fetch an apple from the barrel, rising with one between her teeth to the joy of the crowds. She looked at the ice bath tests of endurance and stood in one for ten minutes, much to the murmurings of the crowd who had not realised that the water only froze just below her knees, just at where skin became starlight and oak. The Whippoorwills were a frequent visitor to wherever Ella and Tadius were, numerous townsfolk spending a few coins here and there to sing their numerous praises to the queen and her loyal attendant.
And when the sun set, urged down by the coldness of the days as a reminder that all festivities should be enjoyed heartily and swiftly, the families all took the children to bed as the final event of the celebrations began – a performance, put on by a group of players recently back to performing for crowds.
It was a story especially for the queen – of a young maiden sent to servitude by a wicked troll, who eventually overcomes her hardships and takes the throne from a cruel prince’s hands (played by a man wearing a comically large codpiece, much to the humour of all those in attendance). The troll players had been done up entirely in makeup and bulky costumes, although with just enough overdrawn elements to make it more a comedy than an autobiographical retelling of her past.
As such, she found much comedy in the retelling, especially as the crowd eagerly joined in with every participation and laughed uproariously at the bawdier jokes the prince’s player made. Tadius laughed just as hard, cheeks ruddy from the cold and enjoyment. Although she was still gifted the best seat in the courtyard by sheer reason of existing, for a few beautiful hours, she was once more Ella Ashmore, just another woman in the crowd. And next to her was Tadius, her friend and confidant.