[Seasonal Event] sing for safety

lily from what i’ve tasted of desire i hold with those who favor fire Apparently the reindeer like singing, and luckily for Lily, singing is one of the few things she’s really good at. Well, one of the few things she can do anytime, anywhere, and not be, ah, censored for. As LongNight approaches, Lily decides to take another chance on gathering the Luxere round - except she’s out of apples, she has no hay, only the food that might last her through the week. And still, she hasn’t decided if she’ll stay with Bastien or go to the Rathskellar; honestly, staying by herself in the Church seems like a stupid idea. What if the monsters come? What if she goes stir crazy and ends up writing things on the walls in her own shit, or fall or accidentally end up making a lot of noise? They would come and she would die, and no one would ever know until the week was up. Um. No. Fuck that. Bring on the light up reindeer. Maybe for everyone, maybe just for herself. Who knows! This time, she doesn’t go far beyond the edges of the settlement, keeping the lights of the buildings in view. Planting a cloth and oil soaked torch in the snow, she manages to light it and then leaves it there to burn and melt the snow around it. The black night seems to surround her, sending chills up her arms that aren’t entirely from being cold. So, perhaps as much to coax the Luxere to the buildings as much as to pacify her own fears, Lily begins to sing. Softly at first, she raises into the darkness another one of the old songs. “By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes Where the sun shines bright on Loch Lomond Where me and my true love will never meet again On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond...”

 

M E L I T A

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It was the singing that coaxed her attention – beautiful and melodic, something straight out glades and harmonies, bright, and ebullient. It reminded Melita of her mother’s beatific sonnets and verses, of her sister’s gentle, harmonizing hums, when they nestled themselves together along a quiet threshold and simply existed. So she was drawn, much like the luxere, to the soft chords, to the melancholy threads, and basked along the settlements, trying to pinpoint the source. Fangorn did the same, sniffing the air, bounding this way and that, and they were a pair suddenly striving to not bother others, but to peer, to witness, what talents existed between strangers and individuals.

As they followed the notes, it became apparent that the enchantress wasn’t an unfamiliar creature at all, but Lily. Melita’s intentions were to suddenly leap out of the shadows and gesture openly at her abilities, marvel at her capabilities, and maybe ask for pointers and tips (because quite frankly, the girl had no musical talents whatsoever). However, the sight of glowing horns advancing along the well-trod pathways and worn trails was a herald of incoming gifts. So she slipped quietly, as stealthy as she could with Fangorn right behind her, and tried to sidle up alongside Lily as she sang. “Great job,” she whispered, and then she pointed towards the bright, incoming figures, luminous and twinkling in the distance. “They’re coming!”

Lily

lily from what i’ve tasted of desire i hold with those who favor fire Lily can’t help but smile at the encouragement, taking a deep breath to start in on verse two, unusually cognizant of the younger girl at her back. It’s weird, she’s usually very confident in her ‘performances,’ but her audiences are rarely made up of women and this is truly a never-before-seen situation. Her hands close up into loose fists, betraying her nerves, but she clenches her support muscles and presses on, focusing not on Melita, but the task at hand.   “O ye'll take' the high road and I'll take the low Road An' I'll be in Scotland afore ye; But me and me true love will never meet again On the bonnie, bonnie banks o' Loch Lomond 'Twas there that we parted in yon shady glen On the steep, steep side o' Ben Lomod' Where in deep purple hue the Highland hills we view And the moon coming out in the gloamin'” The glowing shapes continue towards the two women until the first ones come close enough to see their wet noses and big ‘ol dark eyes. Lily reaches for Melita’s hand to give it a squeeze. Hopefully this would help all the Outlanders living in the settlement. Now… how do they get them to stay?

 

M E L I T A

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She squeezed Lily’s hand back, intertwining her fingers in comfort and solidarity as the song washed over the valley, as the glowing ramparts hastened closer and closer, as she smiled in the softening dusk. The girl didn’t think about the lyrics or stanzas, the melancholy atmosphere drenching its heights and falls, but to the luxere, because she favored their open expressions over the longing twisting and turning through each line. “I’ll get us some apples,” she whispered back, releasing her hands to return to her satchel, sitting where she’d left it. Her eyes darted over her shoulder, but the luxere were mesmerized, not going anywhere, enchanted and lured, just as much as she, and she could feel something want to break over her, right then and there. She’d never quite grieved the missing parts of her life – and she swallowed them down now too, ruffling in her back for the apples she still had, a little battered, a little bruised, but she figured the deer wouldn’t mind.

Melita returned quickly, eternally efficient, sliding one of the fruits into the palm of Lily’s hand. “Offer it to them,” she winked and encouraged, then did the same, lifting her palm containing the crimson reward towards the incoming deer, following the pattern she’d begun with Rexanna.

Lily