Fae Tree - part 1
There was a very fancy tree by his door. Again. He'd had a couple of neighbours admire it, which was great, except... Well he'd not actually bought a tree this year, had never done real ones, the tatty artifical one was still stuffed in it's box, covered with a years layer of dust and various misplaced detrie in the box room. This tree really was magnificent, the base appeared to be eotic moss then a wrap of gilt baubles swirled around it the top half more traditional pine needles. Smelt glorious: damp walks through ancient woods with tall trees and crunching leaves underfoot, fresh streams gurgling gleefully by; fresh, dark, permenance and nostalgia. Escape. Much of his work week was cold technology, blinking screens and cheap coffee left to stand too long. This decadence had allure.
But it wasn't for him. This year he was swearing of the gimmicky commercial trappings and leaving Christmas in it's dusty room. Maybe if he was lucky Christmas and the rest of the world would leave him be too. The year had tested him and he felt he'd just scraped through; he'd raise a glass or bottle at New Year, open the back door for old Yule to clomp out and pooh on the straggly flower beds. Then go to bed, wake to the kiss of youthful Spirit and hope to feel the New Year joy. He felt very tired. Constantly. He stopped lingering by the intruding tree. Unlocked his door. Went in. Closed and locked the door behind him. Shut off the memories. The house had a chill though warm compared to outdoors, heating just gearing up not yet in tune with the weather. Toeing off his boots at the doorway he noticed the thin patches on his socks had developed into holes. Socks were such an underrated Christmas present. Or he was getting old. The living room looked cosy, if unfestive, deep coloured furnishings framed a decent fireplace with a worn but welcoming rug. Old Yule farted in sum up of the day so far, too early yet for young Spirit to stir.
'Hey Markus' Mrs Weingarten juggled her bags to give a cheery wave and Markus laughed with her as they started to tumble, he left his garden to help her collect shiny parcels and rearrange her grip. 'Thanks love, you keep that silvery one, save me delivering later' she winked and he gave her a wary look as he thanked her. It looked innocuous, a rectangular box wrapped in silver star scattered paper with a big bow, but while she was a lovely and a great neighbour to have, her sense of humour could cause some violent blushes!
'Thanks Mrs W, I'm late writing my cards this year' full disclosure they were still in the shop.
'That's ok lovely, you look after yourself, far more important' her lips narrowed in their smile and Markus's eyes prickled, he had good neighbours and really should buy some cards at the very least. At this rate he was going turn into a fuzzy green Grinch. Speaking of green...
'I love your Christmas tree by the way, so fancy' Mrs Weingarten recovered her good cheer, her nose was a little red from the cold or allergies, it was a very seasonal look 'Are you leaving it outside? It's very fancy, makes me think of a grand Fae seeking enterance, seeking to be let in; steal your socks, scare your pets and drink your milk..' Her voice trailed off and Markus wondered if he should check a certain site for some tree fae porn later this evening. Or if it was safer not too.
'I um' he looked back at his house. The tree looked a little forlorn but seemed to fluff out and preen under their eyes. It was an illusion caused by the wind of course. But still...
When he turned back Mrs Weingarten was studying him with a kind smile, I'd best be getting this lot delivered, you take care Markus and remember there'll be plenty food around Christmas day if you want to call by, take a plate home if the kiddies are too much for you' her grandkids were cheeky little characters that could overwhelm if allowed to.
'Thanks, that's kind of you, be careful with those parcels' Markus saluted and after a few more well wishes continued to the shop, he grabbed some festive dog chews from the basket along with his milk, then a chocolate bar from the counter. Three more people complimented his Christmas tree before he got home. The little grandkid of -that lady who knew his mother- told him it looked sad but was quickly hushed and told how glamourous it looked. He smiled and nodded politely while trying and failing to remember her name.
It was no distance but Markus's hands were cold by when he got home, he put his purchases on the step so he could dig his keys out of his pocket, pausing as he let go of the milk 'not for you' he told the trespassing tree. A sudden wind made the branches ruffle in answer. He leaned on the door jam after scooping up his things and caught himself examining Mrs W's gift. He had nowhere to put it. Markus stared at the tree. Felt it watch him back. He had several hours at the computer to get through before the chance to snuggle by the fire and start his new book. The Pine airfreshner lurking under the sink smelt chemical and gave him a headache if used too generously.
'Ok' Markus closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He blamed Mrs Weingarten for this. Woman was incorrigible. 'You can come in, this is me inviting you' he opened his eyes, nothing had changed. The tree stood tall and still, impressive but as inanimate as ever. Not even a speaking breeze. 'There's conditions though, you can help yourself to the milk' he held the bottle up 'and any socks you want, most have holes in them anyway' that came out on a tired sigh, another little defeat, he firmed his voice and stance 'but if you scare my pets, I'll use you for firewood. Even if it'll mean buying an axe' he thought about it some more 'and it'd have to be an outdoor fire because the house one is gas. But I'll do it. Don't doubt that. You don't mess with my pets'. Nothing happened. The morning's quiet was broken by the sound of a car horn and Seagulls squabbling over some find. Markus went indoors.
Hitting send was undramatic. There should be a claxon sound, confetti from the ceiling, cheers and joy. He felt tired. His back ached. His coffee had stagnated. He couldn't remember eating and rubbing a hand over his belly didn't stop it's grumble. Shower first. He'd sent off enough to give himself a few days grace in which to ignore all the Christmas happening around him.
'I'll do us food in a minute, just grabbing a shower' he called, taking a gulp of the cold coffee when his voice came out rusty. It wasn't pleasant. The shower was heaven, or close to. Markus lingered under the hot spray letting it ease his cramped muscles, then pulled on soft house clothes while still a little damp. He'd lost some weight, looked tired, and his hair was long enough to fall all over the place. Markus stuck his tongue out at his reflection, no surprise his reflection echoed the slight.
Dinner bowls hitting the floor got no response. This was not the norm. A worried head around the door showed his pets were blissfully asleep, a loud snore coming from the heap of blankets under the tree, and a twitching tail showing the other furry menace.
Under the......tree!
The tree was now in the corner of his living room, some space/time conundrum because it was too big to get through his door and he'd have sworn it wouldn't fit in that corner. It's baubles had an extra shine to them and it looked smug. Can trees even look smug? Well it radiated smugness like a tactical entity. 'Smug' Markus decided, was definitely apt. Welcome' he muttered, after several blinks a mild sense of panic and the thought he should call Mrs W. The dogs looked supremely unbothered hy this new addition to the room 'kindling' he warned, before going back to the kitchen to grab his own food.
The evening was calm. Markus read and enjoyed his book, the dogs woke and gobbled their food down with plenty of enthusiasm, then went out back to do their business with far less enthusiasm on encountering the cold. The tree didn't seem to bother them. It didn't do anything strange. In fact it didn't so anything at all. Just sat there, looking opulant and ...smug. He hesitated putting the light out that night but then laughed at himself, the tree had gotten in the house unaided, without a rustle he was pretty sure it didn't need a nightlight. 'So ...er goodnight then?' He nodded at the large fancy Christmas tree feeling a complete idiot and decisively turned the lights off, pulled the door from habit and went to bed. The dogs led the way, Yule landing on the bed with a deep sigh and th epuppy needing to be lifted up.
In the morning Markus found his sock draw more organised than he'd ever seen it, though every neatly folded 'pair' was mismatch and the holed and stripey ones were missing. At breakfast he found half his milk gone. A glance down at beseaching doggy eyes meant he lost half his toast too, but his boys were both fine.
The living room looked a bit more welcoming somehow, brighter today, more polished. The tree unmoved, unchanged and the smell glorious. Come to think of it Markus had left a mug in the sink last night and today it had been washed and out away, he stopped the urge to go check. About to say thankyou Markus remembered fairy tales from childhood - leave a saucer of milk but never thank the fae. He nodded instead needing to acknowledge the tree somehow 'I'll buy more milk later' he promised, then booted up to take the dogs for a long walk. Old Yule was slowing down but still loved a good zoom about, Young Spirit ran headlong into the mud, had to be pulled out and carried home.
The three of them had showers before Markus went for more milk. He spotted Mrs Weingarten busy typing in her office and fave her a wave as he passed. She seemed distracted but happy. It was good not to have to turn his own computer on today. Markus ignored his study, pulled on some warm socks then warmed some milk, placing a chocolate bar on the table next to his mug ready for dunking and melting. Then he left the room to gather the book he'd left by his bed. When he got back most of the milk and half the chocolate bar was gone.
'I'd believe it of the dogs they're no angels, but no way they'd leave half the chocolate' he gathered the mug with a sigh and turned to go refill it.
'Well you could have made me one' a voice accused 'that big dog threatened to pee on me, and the little one tried chewing my branches. Didn't hear you threaten them with an axe'
Markus turned slowly. There was still a tree in the corner but it smaller, undecorated. In front of it stood a man. About the same height as him, medium build, unremarkable worn jeans that fit him rather well, cotton shirt open at the neck. There was something ageless about him as he stood staring but then he grinned with such pure mischief it ruined the effect. Sparkling hazel eyes laughed at him 'soooo milk?' was asked hopefully. Markus watched as he dragged a hand through dark hair that had the hint of moss green under the light. 'Milk' Markus agreed, leading the way to the kitchen.
But it wasn't for him. This year he was swearing of the gimmicky commercial trappings and leaving Christmas in it's dusty room. Maybe if he was lucky Christmas and the rest of the world would leave him be too. The year had tested him and he felt he'd just scraped through; he'd raise a glass or bottle at New Year, open the back door for old Yule to clomp out and pooh on the straggly flower beds. Then go to bed, wake to the kiss of youthful Spirit and hope to feel the New Year joy. He felt very tired. Constantly. He stopped lingering by the intruding tree. Unlocked his door. Went in. Closed and locked the door behind him. Shut off the memories. The house had a chill though warm compared to outdoors, heating just gearing up not yet in tune with the weather. Toeing off his boots at the doorway he noticed the thin patches on his socks had developed into holes. Socks were such an underrated Christmas present. Or he was getting old. The living room looked cosy, if unfestive, deep coloured furnishings framed a decent fireplace with a worn but welcoming rug. Old Yule farted in sum up of the day so far, too early yet for young Spirit to stir.
'Hey Markus' Mrs Weingarten juggled her bags to give a cheery wave and Markus laughed with her as they started to tumble, he left his garden to help her collect shiny parcels and rearrange her grip. 'Thanks love, you keep that silvery one, save me delivering later' she winked and he gave her a wary look as he thanked her. It looked innocuous, a rectangular box wrapped in silver star scattered paper with a big bow, but while she was a lovely and a great neighbour to have, her sense of humour could cause some violent blushes!
'Thanks Mrs W, I'm late writing my cards this year' full disclosure they were still in the shop.
'That's ok lovely, you look after yourself, far more important' her lips narrowed in their smile and Markus's eyes prickled, he had good neighbours and really should buy some cards at the very least. At this rate he was going turn into a fuzzy green Grinch. Speaking of green...
'I love your Christmas tree by the way, so fancy' Mrs Weingarten recovered her good cheer, her nose was a little red from the cold or allergies, it was a very seasonal look 'Are you leaving it outside? It's very fancy, makes me think of a grand Fae seeking enterance, seeking to be let in; steal your socks, scare your pets and drink your milk..' Her voice trailed off and Markus wondered if he should check a certain site for some tree fae porn later this evening. Or if it was safer not too.
'I um' he looked back at his house. The tree looked a little forlorn but seemed to fluff out and preen under their eyes. It was an illusion caused by the wind of course. But still...
When he turned back Mrs Weingarten was studying him with a kind smile, I'd best be getting this lot delivered, you take care Markus and remember there'll be plenty food around Christmas day if you want to call by, take a plate home if the kiddies are too much for you' her grandkids were cheeky little characters that could overwhelm if allowed to.
'Thanks, that's kind of you, be careful with those parcels' Markus saluted and after a few more well wishes continued to the shop, he grabbed some festive dog chews from the basket along with his milk, then a chocolate bar from the counter. Three more people complimented his Christmas tree before he got home. The little grandkid of -that lady who knew his mother- told him it looked sad but was quickly hushed and told how glamourous it looked. He smiled and nodded politely while trying and failing to remember her name.
It was no distance but Markus's hands were cold by when he got home, he put his purchases on the step so he could dig his keys out of his pocket, pausing as he let go of the milk 'not for you' he told the trespassing tree. A sudden wind made the branches ruffle in answer. He leaned on the door jam after scooping up his things and caught himself examining Mrs W's gift. He had nowhere to put it. Markus stared at the tree. Felt it watch him back. He had several hours at the computer to get through before the chance to snuggle by the fire and start his new book. The Pine airfreshner lurking under the sink smelt chemical and gave him a headache if used too generously.
'Ok' Markus closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He blamed Mrs Weingarten for this. Woman was incorrigible. 'You can come in, this is me inviting you' he opened his eyes, nothing had changed. The tree stood tall and still, impressive but as inanimate as ever. Not even a speaking breeze. 'There's conditions though, you can help yourself to the milk' he held the bottle up 'and any socks you want, most have holes in them anyway' that came out on a tired sigh, another little defeat, he firmed his voice and stance 'but if you scare my pets, I'll use you for firewood. Even if it'll mean buying an axe' he thought about it some more 'and it'd have to be an outdoor fire because the house one is gas. But I'll do it. Don't doubt that. You don't mess with my pets'. Nothing happened. The morning's quiet was broken by the sound of a car horn and Seagulls squabbling over some find. Markus went indoors.
Hitting send was undramatic. There should be a claxon sound, confetti from the ceiling, cheers and joy. He felt tired. His back ached. His coffee had stagnated. He couldn't remember eating and rubbing a hand over his belly didn't stop it's grumble. Shower first. He'd sent off enough to give himself a few days grace in which to ignore all the Christmas happening around him.
'I'll do us food in a minute, just grabbing a shower' he called, taking a gulp of the cold coffee when his voice came out rusty. It wasn't pleasant. The shower was heaven, or close to. Markus lingered under the hot spray letting it ease his cramped muscles, then pulled on soft house clothes while still a little damp. He'd lost some weight, looked tired, and his hair was long enough to fall all over the place. Markus stuck his tongue out at his reflection, no surprise his reflection echoed the slight.
Dinner bowls hitting the floor got no response. This was not the norm. A worried head around the door showed his pets were blissfully asleep, a loud snore coming from the heap of blankets under the tree, and a twitching tail showing the other furry menace.
Under the......tree!
The tree was now in the corner of his living room, some space/time conundrum because it was too big to get through his door and he'd have sworn it wouldn't fit in that corner. It's baubles had an extra shine to them and it looked smug. Can trees even look smug? Well it radiated smugness like a tactical entity. 'Smug' Markus decided, was definitely apt. Welcome' he muttered, after several blinks a mild sense of panic and the thought he should call Mrs W. The dogs looked supremely unbothered hy this new addition to the room 'kindling' he warned, before going back to the kitchen to grab his own food.
The evening was calm. Markus read and enjoyed his book, the dogs woke and gobbled their food down with plenty of enthusiasm, then went out back to do their business with far less enthusiasm on encountering the cold. The tree didn't seem to bother them. It didn't do anything strange. In fact it didn't so anything at all. Just sat there, looking opulant and ...smug. He hesitated putting the light out that night but then laughed at himself, the tree had gotten in the house unaided, without a rustle he was pretty sure it didn't need a nightlight. 'So ...er goodnight then?' He nodded at the large fancy Christmas tree feeling a complete idiot and decisively turned the lights off, pulled the door from habit and went to bed. The dogs led the way, Yule landing on the bed with a deep sigh and th epuppy needing to be lifted up.
In the morning Markus found his sock draw more organised than he'd ever seen it, though every neatly folded 'pair' was mismatch and the holed and stripey ones were missing. At breakfast he found half his milk gone. A glance down at beseaching doggy eyes meant he lost half his toast too, but his boys were both fine.
The living room looked a bit more welcoming somehow, brighter today, more polished. The tree unmoved, unchanged and the smell glorious. Come to think of it Markus had left a mug in the sink last night and today it had been washed and out away, he stopped the urge to go check. About to say thankyou Markus remembered fairy tales from childhood - leave a saucer of milk but never thank the fae. He nodded instead needing to acknowledge the tree somehow 'I'll buy more milk later' he promised, then booted up to take the dogs for a long walk. Old Yule was slowing down but still loved a good zoom about, Young Spirit ran headlong into the mud, had to be pulled out and carried home.
The three of them had showers before Markus went for more milk. He spotted Mrs Weingarten busy typing in her office and fave her a wave as he passed. She seemed distracted but happy. It was good not to have to turn his own computer on today. Markus ignored his study, pulled on some warm socks then warmed some milk, placing a chocolate bar on the table next to his mug ready for dunking and melting. Then he left the room to gather the book he'd left by his bed. When he got back most of the milk and half the chocolate bar was gone.
'I'd believe it of the dogs they're no angels, but no way they'd leave half the chocolate' he gathered the mug with a sigh and turned to go refill it.
'Well you could have made me one' a voice accused 'that big dog threatened to pee on me, and the little one tried chewing my branches. Didn't hear you threaten them with an axe'
Markus turned slowly. There was still a tree in the corner but it smaller, undecorated. In front of it stood a man. About the same height as him, medium build, unremarkable worn jeans that fit him rather well, cotton shirt open at the neck. There was something ageless about him as he stood staring but then he grinned with such pure mischief it ruined the effect. Sparkling hazel eyes laughed at him 'soooo milk?' was asked hopefully. Markus watched as he dragged a hand through dark hair that had the hint of moss green under the light. 'Milk' Markus agreed, leading the way to the kitchen.