Merry Christmas

Gwyndion looked himself over in the mirror. His long hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, tied with a red ribbon and a singular holly sprig from his property. He was dressed to the nines in his opinion, wearing a deep burgundy peasant-style blouse dyed from natural pigments, and a shirt woven from natural fibers. Over it was a patterned black vest, laced loosely around his stocked frame… the ensemble was completed with a pair of modest black pants woven from fine wool.

He looked around his modest castle, a fine cabin in the woods on his farm, surrounded by the animals he raised, and the crops he tended to. He looked like a man of means… but had lived a long time, breaking his back to cultivate his home, and squirrel away any funds he could gain from selling excess.

He was more or less self-sufficient… and he had been so content with it for so long… before she came into his life.

Gwyndion’s gaze lingered upon the decorations that settled over his open floor plan of living room and kitchen. She had handmade those over year… and surprised him by showing up on his doorstep with them. 

They had spent a cozy evening decorating his abode, and warming by the fire after they finished. They had been seeing each other for a few years now, and Gwyndion just couldn’t picture his life without this mare anymore. 

He never thought himself a man of marriage material… but her friends, who quickly became his own as well… had spoken of it, and had gotten married too… Perhaps it was just a seed of thought that had blossomed into an idea.

Now he knew he wanted to bring her home, and make her his wife… if she would have him. 

After becoming aware of this, he had begun to slowly make room in his house for her. Drawers in his room for her things, modifying the kitchen so she could reach things easier…

He just wanted to make it comfortable for her…

The stallion looked down at the little black box that rested on his rustic table. He picked it up, the trinket looking so tiny in his massive hands… and the box alone and knowing what it symbolized caused his stomach to be in knots. Placing it in his pocket, he patted it down to make sure it was snug and wouldn’t move.

Quickly striding over to the fireplace he kneeled, dragging a few weathered logs onto the hearth from their resting place. He was able to get them quickly lit, due to aging, and ensured they stayed dry before he used them. Standing up, he placed his hands out, feeling the warmth radiating from the freshly born flame.

“Hmm… Eve should be here soon…” He muttered to himself, as he looked out the window, seeing the snow-coated landscape of his hibernating farm… For this Yule, Eve had insisted she would bake for him, and bring it, though he had mildly protested, suggesting they cooked together as they had been wanting to do. 

Right on time, he saw a thin figure dressed in black let herself through his gate, quickly making her way to his door. A steady stream of steam puffed along behind her as she went… for some reason, it was a comforting sight to him. 

Eve barely had time to knock, before her mate was to the door, having it open and welcoming her inside. He took the basket she had, placing it down on the table, so he could pull her into an embrace before she could shut the door and disrobe.

“What’s gotten into you, Gwyn?” Eve asked with a chuckle, hugging him tightly, not minding his sudden display of affection. In truth, he had just missed her… over these last months, he felt he had become more forward, pulling her in for tight embraces and stolen kisses. 

He pressed his head against the top of hers, smelling the cold, and her shampoo that clung to her hair as faint perfume. She just seemed to fit perfectly in his arms, and being able to hold her like this openly now, just brought him such happiness that his heart could barely contain it any longer…

“I missed you, my mate.” Was his simple reply, as a lone hand came up and tangled in her hair. Before long, the sharp and bitter chill from the outdoors ruined his interlude with her, and drew him back to reality. Finally letting her go, he turned to close the door. By the time he had turned back around, Eve had already taken her coat off, revealing the dress she had opted to for today.

His mare always opted for dark colors, and even for Yule, she didn’t variate. She wore an elegant black dress, and the top was lined with lace offering a little, modest spendlor. 

“You look really handsome tonight, Gwyn…” She squeaked softly, her cheeks turning a light pink. The vision of the woman who bestowed him a compliment, and the words themselves brought a smile to his face. “And you look just lovely… As always.”

“Ohh, yes, I brought a casserole… and we really should get it in the oven to make sure it stays hot.” Eve added, quickly changing the topic as she was embarrassed by the return compliment.

“I’ll get it.” He remarked easily, moving to pick up the basket and carry it to the kitchen. Eve followed right behind him, and wormed her way into helping him get a fire lit for his oven. He couldn’t help but admire his mare, she was always insisting on helping… even when he insisted on letting him do it for her.

“Okay, I think it’s up to temp…” Eve remarked after she checked the over after some time had passed. Right away she grabbed some potholders, finding them with ease, to use to take the casserole from the basket, to transfer it to the waiting oven. 

While Eve was getting it in, Gwyndion couldn’t help but notice something hidden away in her basket. Reaching in and pulling it out, he turned to Eve…

“Hmm, what’s this?” He asked, holding up a deep red wine bottle. His tone was less curious, but more teasing… for at least what he could pull off…

“I’m not sure if you’ll like it… but I’ve been saving it for a special occasion… And… Yule with you has become my favorite time of year….” She trailed off, realizing she was going off on a tangent when she knew she didn’t have to.

“I’ll drink it with you, thank you.” Was his short reply as he stepped over and kissed her forehead, knowing deep down this would be perfect for tonight.

“Okay.” Eve whispered, clearly relieved he wasn’t put off by the wine bottle she had opted to bring. 

Gwyndion stepped away, placing the bottle down on the table. He grabbed an old, worn metal bucket from beside the door before he quickly stepped outside and scooped a mound of fresh snow into it.

Returning to the kitchen, he placed the bucket on the counter, quickly plopping the warm bottle into the bucket and its contents. “There, will chill just a little.”

Eve was quick to wipe down the sides of the bucket with a towel, in an attempt to keep the counter from taking on any water damage. “Then we just need to wait until the vegetable casserole is hot.” Eve remarked, offering a warm smile to her beloved.

Gwyndion responded with only a nod before he went to prepare the table… The dinner went by without a hitch, and it was delicious. After that, they had settled by the fire, and after he had stoked it again, they snuggled close and enjoyed a pot of hot chocolate.

The fire had warmed the pot, allowing the soft fragrance of the beverage to surround them. The soft crackling of the fire, and the sweet aroma just seemed to set the perfect stage in Gwyndion’s opinion. Looking to the mare who snuggled up against his side, Gwyndion cleared his throat softly.

“I have been meaning to ask you a question.” He remarked, letting the words hang heavy, his voice hanging velvety over the ambiance they had this evening. The stallion could feel a prickle of nervousness at the base of his spine, right behind his belly…

“Yes?” Eve probed gently, sitting up, and looking up at him, concern evident in her eyes.

Gwyndion turned to her, taking her hands in his, cradling them tenderly. “Eve, I know things were awkward in the beginning… but now I can't imagine my home… my life… myself… without you,” He paused, looking into the mare’s eyes, “And due to this… I realized something important…”

Trailing off that sentence, he moved to kneel before her, as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the black box. Opening it up he presented her with a handcrafted gold ring. It was a simple band, with Celtic-inspired engravings around its entirety. 

“Will you marry me, Eve Hallows?”

Eve looked at the ring, tears beading up in her eyes, just as strong and quickly as the joy that bubbled through her. Throwing her arms around him, she sobbed happily, exclaiming…

“Yes! Forever and always!”

Gwyndion closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around his bride. His core was washed with relief, and a quiet joy that brought a deep-seated peace for him. She had said yes. This would certainly be an unforgettable Yule for them both….

“Merry Christmas, my bride.” He whispered sweetly to his mare.