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The stars shone brighter here than they did in the city where Chise grew up, twinkling proudly against the night sky without the many competing electric lights smothering them from below. The cold, too, seemed to make them shine even more beautifully, as if they were sharper against the darkness. Unlike the constant energy of the city, the countryside - her home , now - was patient in the way life moved at its own pace and the wind whistled through the trees and grass.
The winter, too, was softer here. When it snowed, Chise could marvel at how it piled up and spread over the earth like a blanket of white, large swaths undisturbed save for the occasional animal tracks. It didn’t turn to slush in crowded streets.
But the cold was sharper without the heat seeping from all of the buildings and their warm air vents, and Chise shivered as she trudged after Elias in the snow. He had stood up about ten minutes ago and told her that they were going out, never mind that it was nearly midnight on New Year's Eve. Chise had tugged her coat and boots on before rushing out after him, pausing only to thank Silky when she wrapped a warm scarf around her, and followed Elias into the night with Ruth close behind.
“Where are we going?” Chise asked, her voice muffled from burying her face in her scarf. She was only pouting a little - she’d been warm and comfortable in front of the fire with a mug of hot cocoa and freshly baked cookies. Ruth muttered something under his breath at her side, something that sounded a little like a complaint, and Chise just ran her fingers through his fur.
“Here.”
Chise almost ran into Elias when he stopped suddenly, and he easily turned and caught her with an arm around her waist. They weren’t very far from the house, and with a gesture Elias cleared the boulder in front of them of snow. As Chise blinked up at him, confused, he chuckled and picked her up easily, sweeping her into his arms and nosing her cheek before sitting on the boulder and settling her in front of him on his lap. “Aren’t the stars bright tonight?”
Chise hummed in agreement, shifting and leaning back against Elias’s chest as he looped his arms around her waist and rested his jaw on her head. “So we’re just here to stargaze?” She didn’t particularly mind, and turned her eyes skyward. The stars were beautiful, and the moon was bright in the cloudless sky. Chise breathed out, watching it hang in the air. “Pretty,” she murmured.
“Indeed,” Elias rumbled from behind her. She snuggled back more, and he adjusted his robes so that they covered her like a blanket.
By her feet, Ruth shivered and shook himself. “If you’re just here to flirt, I’m going back,” he grumbled with no real bite to it.
“Okay,” Chise said, reaching out from under Elias’s arm to rub his ear affectionately. Ruth closed his eyes and leaned into the touch before glancing at her, then Elias, then nodding. “Tell Silky we’ll be back soon. Right?” Chise glanced up, aiming her question at Elias despite not being able to see him.
Elias shifted slightly, nodding against her hair. “Mhm. It’s almost midnight.”
With a final shake of his head, Ruth turned and began to make his way back to the house, his long tail trailing after him.
Once he had disappeared, Chise and Elias sat in comfortable silence, enjoying the still night and each other’s presence. Elias broke the spell once, only to ask if Chise was cold. She just shook her head and pulled the baggy sleeves of Elias’s robe closer around her, and he nuzzled her head.
After some time, the bell of Simon’s church rang out somewhere in the distance, signaling the new year. Chise shifted in Elias’s arms to look up at him, and he lifted his chin off her head to meet her gaze. “Happy New Year, Chise,” he said close to her ear.
Chise smiled and closed her eyes to lean back into his chest again, and Elias tightened his grip around her waist in response. When she opened her eyes and breathed out, content, her breath hung in the air in a puff of white, but she didn’t feel cold. “Happy New Year, Elias.”
Chise shifted slightly, unsure, and Elias tilted his head in response. Just as he opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, Chise quickly grabbed the sides of his skull and pulled him down, pressing a kiss to the side of his jaw before she could talk herself out of it. Embarrassed, she let go and turned back around, feeling her face heat up despite the chilly night air.
Elias was quiet for a moment before laughing, a low sound that Chise felt against her back, and then he pressed his nose against her jaw, grazing it over her cheek in an imitation of the gesture. It tickled, and Chise couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh.
They sat for a while longer, basking in each other’s company, until Chise shivered. As soon as she did, Elias swept her into his arms again and stood.
“I can walk,” Chise huffed, having to throw her arms around Elias’s neck to steady herself.
“I know,” Elias said, making no move to put her down. He sounded amused. “I’ll put you down when we get home.”
Home. The word still warmed Chise’s heart when she thought about it, conjuring images of a crackling fire in the hearth, of lounging with her head against Elias’s shoulder and her fingers running through Ruth’s fur, of Silky’s home cooked meals; this was where she belonged now.
When they approached the door, Chise saw it propped open and Silky withdrawing from the threshold and disappearing further into the house. Elias moved to put her down, but she tightened her grip on his neck uncooperatively and he stumbled but caught himself and straightened again. She frowned, finally catching on.
“You want me to be the first-foot?” Chise asked, somewhere between bewildered and accusing. “I thought the first person to step into the house should be a man with dark hair, not a woman and not someone with red hair.”
“Some places say light hair is preferred over dark,” Elias said nonchalantly, moving to put Chise down again but sighing when she still didn’t cooperate. “Chise …”
“I don’t even have anything to bring in,” she argued, “the whole point of the first-foot is to bring luck to a household - letting me go in empty handed is about the furthest from tradition as we could get.”
“I never said I would let you go in without the appropriate gifts,” Elias said, and Chise watched as black thorns rose from his shadow and deposited a small basket in her lap. It had all of the proper items - a silver sixpence, some dark bread, some coal, a bottle of whiskey - and Elias just looked at her. “Isn’t that fine?”
“I still don’t think -”
Elias huffed, breath ruffling Chise’s hair and interrupting her. “They call the first-foot a ‘lucky bird,’ too. Don’t you think it’s fitting for the faerie’s beloved Robin?”
Chise flushed. “That’s not the same,” she said, glancing away. After a moment, she turned back to Elias. “Fine, just … If you won’t go in first, why don’t you just carry me in?”
“I would say that’s more of a wedding tradition,” Elias said, and Chise felt her face heat up further at the way the light in his eyes danced. He was teasing her.
“Better than having me go in alone,” Chise managed. She knew she was pouting a little, but she’d learned the importance of superstition and the last thing she wanted to do was to chance bringing misfortune to her home. “Or I can just wait outside until you decide to be the first-foot. I think I’m being very reasonable.”
Elias was quiet for a moment before he sighed, adjusting his grip on Chise and holding her closer to his chest. “What a stubborn puppy I have,” he said, but there was unmistakable fondness in his voice.
“Only as stubborn as you,” Chise said in return, clutching the small basket and relaxing in Elias’s arms.
Warmth and light washed over them as they stepped into the house, crossing the threshold together. Elias closed the door behind them and, after Chise glanced around to make sure Ruth and Silky weren’t nearby, she pulled Elias down to press another kiss to his jaw.