Fic: Softer and More Beautiful
Title: Softer and More Beautiful
Fandom: Star Trek XI (AU)
Pairing: Jim/Bones
Rating: PG
Word Count: 5300
Summary: As a wood nymph, it's been a while since he had last seen people, and Jim couldn't be more fascinated. Written for the space_wrapped prompt that starts with: Every winter McCoy takes his wife and child up to their log cabin in the mountains to spend Christmas and New Years. Jim is a sprite/faerie/forest creature/whatever...
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even the prompt.
A/N: Beta-read by bandearg_rois and additionally by a no-account lurker friend of mine.
Softer and More Beautiful
“Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful.”
~Norman Vincent Peale~
~*~
He was wandering through the woods that were his domain when he felt a sudden burst of pain. Being a wood nymph, he knew the pain meant one of his trees had been wounded, and the sudden halt of the sensation meant the tree had died.
He didn’t need the sound of the crash to tell him where the tree had once stood. Wood nymphs were intimately connected with all of the trees in their forests, and he knew exactly where to look. It was a tree at the edge of a little clearing that had been made back in the day when people still respected and acknowledged sprites and nymphs and the like, exchanging various goods and trinkets for the trees they used to make a little cabin. It had been a pine in the prime of its life, about seven feet tall with evenly spaced branches and rich green needles. Curious as to why this tree had been killed instead of a tree that would have made better lumber, he stopped by for a quick visit, hiding behind a wintry breeze.
“Whatcha doin’, Daddy?” a little girl asked.
A man, presumably the father, chuckled as he straightened. “No one ever told you about wood nymphs, darlin’?”
Puzzled, for no one had mentioned his kind in his hearing for a century, he listened on as the daughter said, “No. What about ‘em?”
“Well, they rule over the forests. We took this tree from a nymph, and it’s only nice to return something to him or her. So I left a little something behind. It’s like sayin’ thank you for givin’ us this nice tree.”
“Now, Leonard, are you teaching Jo more of your fairy tales?” asked a woman, icily beautiful, as she slipped an arm around his waist.
“It’s been family tradition for years, Jocelyn,” the man replied. “You know that; you’ve been around for Christmas before. Sure, it seems more than a bit odd, and I’m not even sure why we do it. But I’m not one to let tradition go, you know that.”
She smiled at that. “No, you’re not.”
As the family walked toward the cabin with the pine in tow, the nymph waited until he was sure no one would see him before dropping to the ground the man had been bent over. Half-buried there was a piece of wood carved delicately into the shape of a leaf. It had a small hole in it, which had been used to attach a piece of string to the leaf and make a necklace.
He smiled. It had been so long since someone had left him a gift, and it had been even longer since he had received a gift so beautiful.
He still wasn’t quite sure what they were planning on doing with his tree, but he figured it would take time for them to actually do it. He could afford to fly about on the woodsy breeze for a few moments in joy.
~*~
The next day he returned to the clearing to see if they would notice their gift had been taken. Fondly touching the leaf that was now around his neck, he sat in the branches of a nearby pine and waited.
Sure enough, father and daughter began walking toward the stump of the felled tree, hand in hand. The mother was absent, though, and he frowned at that. Was it simply because she didn’t believe in the stories, or was there more he wasn’t seeing?
“Look, Daddy!” cried the girl. “It’s gone!”
“It sure is,” the man said, clearly shocked. Had he not really believed in the tradition he’d followed?
“What’s that mean?” the girl wanted to know.
“Well, it means the nymph liked our present. Maybe he or she isn’t so sad we took the tree anymore.” The man still looked disbelieving, though. If the squirrels hadn’t been hibernating the nymph would have guessed the man thought one had taken the leaf instead. But the woods slept; nothing dared come this far into the open except for him.
“I hope so,” the little girl said. “I don’t want the nymph to be sad.”
He smiled as the pair walked off toward the cabin. Clearly the man had forgotten the other part of what happened if the nymph liked the present. He would look forward to surprising him.
There were more pressing matters, though, and he quickly followed them to the cabin, blending in with the snow. He wanted to see what had happened to the tree.
Peeking through a window, he saw the family hanging trinkets on the branches of the tree, heightening the pine’s natural beauty with bits of silver and gold and gently flashing lights. The cabin’s interior was decorated similarly, and the food smells coming through the barely-open window were amazing. Clearly the tree was part of a celebration of some sort.
He smiled before returning to the forest. If they wanted a tree for celebrating, he didn’t mind at all. Besides, he had vague memories of this celebration, though it had been a long time since he had seen it. Christmas, it was called, and it involved a gift exchange.
It was a perfect way to follow through with his plan.
~*~
He snuck into the cabin on a wintry breeze late in the night before the morning of the gift exchange, three presents in his arms. He had even wrapped them, using a little magic, some leaves, and a hint of snow.
Setting them with the other presents he saw under the tree, he curled up in a corner, dismissing the winter wind and calling some of the cabin’s warmer air to conceal him instead so as not to attract attention, and waited for the dawn.
It came loudly, with raucous shouts of, “Mommy! Daddy! Presents!” from the little one and exhausted groans from the adults. Soon the entire family found their way downstairs.
He delighted in the shock on the faces of the parents when they noticed there were three extra gifts under the pine tree. Clearly the man had forgotten a vital part of his folklore, if he had forgotten about the return gifts.
The girl opened the little box with the name Joanna on it, revealing a delicate snowglobe made from part of the stump left behind from the pine, real snow, and magic. “Look!” she shouted delightedly. “It’s so pretty!”
In his corner the nymph beamed, pleased she liked his gift.
The woman, Jocelyn, was also pleased by the gift of earrings in the shape of silver leaves to match her pale blonde hair and icy blue eyes. If he hadn’t known better he would have guessed Jocelyn was a descendant of the Queen of Winter, such was her appearance.
He had debated longer about what to get for Leonard. Girls were easy; they liked trinkets like the ones he had given them. It was harder to come up with good ideas for return gifts for men, especially since he was so out of practice. Shutting his eyes, he hoped as hard as he could as the man opened the box with his name on it.
Inside the box was a framed picture. He had painstakingly sketched what the family might have looked like sitting under a different tree, one of the tulip poplars in his realm, in the summer. A faint breeze teased the hair of the woman and the child, and they were all happy and smiling at each other as the sun shone.
He smiled widely as the man gave it an appreciative look, though the man couldn’t see him. It was always good to know his return gifts were well-liked.
“Well, Leonard, do you have any idea where these came from?” asked the woman, clearly thinking it was her husband who had gotten the earrings.
“I have no idea,” the man replied.
“Innit obvious?” the girl asked with all the charm of a little child. “It was Santa!”
He smiled as they all laughed, feeling their joy.
As the man and woman went into another room, he went to leave, but was stopped when the girl looked straight at him. He froze; could she see him?
His question was answered when she said, “Thank you, whoever you are. I know you’re not Santa, but it was still real nice of you.”
He smiled, gave her a brief hug since his cover had already been blown, and vanished, seemingly without a trace.
~*~
When the family had left the next day he’d been convinced that was it. He had just resigned himself to waiting another century or so for an exchange like that when they came back for Christmas the next winter.
It seemed as if they had enjoyed the place, for it was their third year coming to that little cabin in the woods. Joanna had aged some, shooting up like the sapling she was. Jocelyn was progressively cold as the years went by, but still they remained a happy family. Idly the nymph wondered how much longer the illusion of Jocelyn being happy would last; he could tell how events were going to play out in that relationship.
Perhaps it was because of that he found himself not liking Jocelyn much. He was absolutely smitten with the girl and rather fond of her father as well, and Jocelyn was only going to hurt them both.
Still, out of a sense of propriety he continued to give her return gifts as well as the others, though he realized his return gifts to her were getting more and more thoughtless.
On the other hand, the gifts that had been given to him for the use of his trees had gotten better and better. After that beautiful wooden leaf he had been given a wooden flute which he still used from time to time when the woods got boring, and Joanna had insisted upon choosing the gift to be given this year, saying, “He’s gotta be cold! Let’s give him a scarf to keep warm!” The parents had questioned how Joanna knew the nymph was a him, but they played along, and the scarf was a truly beautiful shade of green that matched the needles of the pine the family had taken that year.
In return, he gave Joanna a little carved squirrel that the eleven-year-old adored. Jocelyn received another pair of earrings, this pair made from the snow that fell in his realm and reminded him of the iciness of the woman. She still seemed to find them beautiful, though.
It had not gotten any easier to think of return gifts for Leonard. He was a man whose profession was rooted in the future, but he still honored the traditions of the past. He was a bundle of contradictions that the nymph found difficult to read, but that only made him all the more determined to give the man gifts he enjoyed.
This year, he had carved something for Leonard as well, staining the wood with various pigments that could be created with natural materials. It had taken a lot of work and a great deal of travel, but he knew the man was worth the effort.
He couldn’t help but smile when he saw the pleased expression on Leonard’s face when he saw the carefully stained blue iris. He also noticed that Jocelyn didn’t understand the meaning of the flower.
“What is that?” she demanded. “Who would give it to you?”
“I don’t know who it is,” came Leonard’s slow, thoughtful reply, “but whoever it is seems to think I’m a good friend. That’s what the flower means: valued friendship.”
“I told you, it’s Santa!” Joanna exclaimed. The nymph chuckled; the girl held on to her beliefs.
He froze as all three humans looked around, cursing himself for forgetting that he could still be heard. His voice would have seemed slightly different to each of them, depending on their perceptions of what was pleasing in a voice, but it would have been perfectly audible nonetheless. Taking advantage of their confusion, he quickly fled through a window that had been left slightly open.
Flying quickly to a nearby pine, the nymph sat on an upper branch and allowed himself to calm. That had been a close call; he wasn’t sure he wanted to be discovered in what was technically the home of another, especially when one of the people who would have discovered him was Jocelyn. She struck him as rather disbelieving and unkind, an extremely hurtful combination for his kind. It was entirely possible he would not have survived a face-to-face encounter with her.
~*~
After another year had passed the nymph had forgotten the near-disaster the year before had been and was looking forward to the family’s visit. Moving as close to the edge of the clearing as he dared, he began to watch over the cabin in anticipation of the family’s arrival.
He was aghast when he saw what had happened.
Jocelyn was absent, and the ring Leonard had always wore on his left hand was absent as well. She had finally left, then. That in and of itself wasn’t entirely surprising to him. What affected him more was the obvious sorrow of both father and child. He had expected Jocelyn to leave, but now that it had happened he felt a surge of anger directed toward her because of the pain she had caused.
Frowning, he moved closer, hiding behind a breeze as was his habit. He had to know more, even though he wasn’t sure he wanted to.
“Why isn’t she here?” the little girl wanted to know.
A stricken look crossed the father’s face before he carefully hid it. “Because she’s not happy with me, Jo.”
The nymph wasn’t sure what the strange feeling that passed through him was, and he wasn’t sure why he suddenly wanted to be with them. It hurt, though, knowing that it wasn’t something he could do. All he could do was continue with the return gifts. Unless...
The nymph quickly took off, looking over his shoulder one last time before flying away. It was time to talk to his mother.
~*~
He soon returned to the clearing, having obtained permission to follow through with his plan. It really was easier to get things approved when your mother was involved with the wood nymphs’ King, he reflected idly as he pondered how best to go about this.
Deciding on a simple approach, he picked a nearby tree and simply fell out of the sky, feigning a loss of consciousness as he hit the snow. Sure enough, little feet soon came running and a little voice screamed, “Daddy! Daddy! C’mere!”
Larger footsteps soon followed and Leonard’s voice asked, “What is it, Jo?”
“Look at him!”
There was a muffled thump and then a large hand wrapped around his wrist, clearly checking for something. He figured now was as good a moment as any to reveal that he was awake, and opened his eyes slowly.
Sure enough, Leonard was crouched beside him, and he couldn’t help staring as he saw that face up close for the first time. Frown lines were beginning to be etched between amber eyes flecked with green, and he practically itched with the urge to smooth them out somehow. The chestnut hair was tousled from the breeze the nymph had been playing with earlier, and he couldn’t help thinking that Leonard looked more the part of the wood nymph than he himself did with his blond hair and blue eyes.
Focusing again, he noticed that the man was saying something. “What?” he asked, hoping Leonard would repeat whatever it had been.
“I said, where’d you come from?” Leonard’s face and light baritone voice both implied irritation, but the nymph could easily read the care and concern in the man’s eyes.
“The woods,” he replied, seeing no reason to lie.
“Sure,” came the sarcastic response. “What’s your name, kid?”
The nymph had to actually think on that one for a moment. He had a name, sure, but most nymphs didn’t use them. Everyone was either a relative or a friend, and so they had no need for names.
The man rolled his eyes. “You do have a name, right?”
“Yes, I do. I just don’t use it very often,” he answered, still trying to think.
“Well, why not?” Leonard demanded.
“‘Cause he’s the nymph that lives here!” came Joanna’s shout of recognition.
Leonard rolled his eyes again, and the nymph was certain that if he did it again they would stick that way. “Sorry about my daughter; she has an overactive imagination.”
“No, no, she’s right,” the nymph reassured. “It’s been a long time since she last saw me, but she’s right. I’m amazed she remembered.”
The man’s expressive eyes narrowed suspiciously. “And what exactly have you been doing, that my daughter would see you but no one else would?”
“I was hiding in your cabin to see if you liked the return gifts I gave you,” he explained, not sure at all why Leonard was so suspicious. “I don’t know why she saw me; she just did.”
“You were--wait, return gifts? What’re you talking about?” the man asked, clearly confused.
He laughed. “You know, I’ve always wondered how you could be so informed about some parts of the legends of my kind and so woefully inadequate when it comes to the knowledge of other parts. If a wood nymph likes the gift you gave him or her in return for a tree, it’s customary for the nymph to give a return gift to show appreciation.”
Smiling, he watched as the pieces began to fit together in Leonard’s mind. “You mean those were you?”
Smile widening, he chuckled again. “Who did you think they were from? Even when she was eight Joanna knew it wasn’t Santa.”
Suddenly Leonard’s eyes dropped to his neck, and he could see them widen when they saw the pendant that was still hanging there. Surely by now the man was beginning to believe, since he had been so open to at least learning the folklore before?
“Look, would it help you believe if I flew?” he demanded. “Do you want me to change my appearance so I look like what you think a nymph should look like? Do you want me to appear as a woman? Because I can do all of those.”
“No,” Leonard sighed. “I don’t think I could handle that. Just... give me some time to get used to this, all right?”
“Fine,” he replied, and then he grinned as he finally remembered his name. “The name my father gave me is James Tiberius Kirk. That’s what you wanted to know, right?”
“The name your father gave you?”
“Yes; my mother didn’t give me one because wood nymphs have no use for names. My father was human, though, and so he named me.”
The nymph grinned as Leonard shook his head, clearly confused. This had been the greatest plan ever.
~*~
“Come on, Len; it’ll be fun!” he pouted.
“I really don’t see the point in you flying me over the forest, Jim. I know Joanna can look after herself, but I’m--” Leonard broke off with a yelp as the nymph decided he’d had enough of listening to the man and simply grabbed him, using a stronger breeze than normal to propel them upward.
The nymph frowned when he noticed that the brunet’s eyes were tightly shut. “Len?”
“If you’d waited a few more moments, Jim, you would’ve heard me say I’m afraid of heights,” came the terse reply.
“Hush,” he ordered. “Open your eyes, but don’t look down. Just look out.”
Len complied and the nymph felt a strange twisting sensation as he observed the man’s expression of wonder at their surroundings. The forest from above was a view he never tired of, but he suspected he would come to appreciate this one just as much if he didn’t already.
He could still see the remnant of fear in the man’s eyes, though, and so he gently landed them in the clearing again. “See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“If you do it again, I’ll kill you,” the man replied as the nymph chuckled.
“I don’t have to. You saw what I wanted you to see.” As he smiled, their eyes met and he was once again struck by the mix of earth-brown and grass-green that swirled warmly in Len’s eyes. This time, however, the combination of color wasn’t the only reason he was so stunned; it was the peace and warmth and contentment he was reading from them. For just a few moments, he had made Len happy.
He would have to come up with the best return gift ever in return for this sight.
~*~
That happiness had faded by the time they got inside. Really, the nymph wasn’t too surprised; the family had definitely been through hard times that year. However, he was still feeling a strong urge to wipe that pain away, even though he wasn’t sure what he could do about it.
As Len went through the motions of making an apple pie and Joanna worked at sewing something or other, he sat in a place where he could observe them both and weighed possible options. He wasn’t really sure what he could do, though; he just hadn’t been with this family long enough, even though it felt like he’d been a family member for a long time.
Joanna went into her bedroom for something and the nymph wandered into the kitchen. “That smells good,” he commented.
Len didn’t even look up, much less reply. He seemed entirely focussed on his work.
The nymph frowned, moving closer and gently touching the man’s elbow. That seemed to get his attention, as he looked up with eyes that were so much duller than they had been just a few hours ago. “What, Jim?”
He hadn’t been entirely sure what he was going to say when he’d wandered over, but he didn’t stop the words that welled up as he locked gazes with the man. “Why can’t you be happy longer than a few passing moments?”
Len sighed. “It’s not that simple, Jim.”
“I know it’s not!” the nymph exclaimed. “But... isn’t there anything I can do, anything at all? I don’t like seeing you hurt,” he explained, feeling crystalline tears like melted snow well up in his eyes as he ran a single finger down Len’s cheek.
He leaned into the touch as Len raised a hand to his own cheek, saying, “You don’t have to do anything, darlin’. You being here is more than good enough.”
Overcome, the nymph leaned in and touched the tip of his nose to the tip of Len’s, gasping at how right the sensation felt. He could tell Len wasn’t too sure what to make of it, but the man stood there and allowed him to run the tip of his nose along his. Finally, though, when the nymph had been reduced to gasps and ragged breaths and clutching at Len’s arms, the brunet seemed to catch on. “This is how nymphs kiss, isn’t it?”
He nodded, whining quietly in the back of his throat as the motion caused even more gentle friction between their noses. Pulling back ever so slightly to catch his runaway breath, he was shocked when Len wound fingers through his hair, keeping him close.
Len was smiling now, that soft smile that the nymph had seen so rarely and only ever directed at him. “Let me show you how humans do it.”
He nodded, smiling in return, and then his lips were covered with Len’s and it felt so strange in the best possible way. He sighed happily into the mouth that was still in contact with his, stepping closer and moving a hand to the back of Len’s neck and the other to tangle in the man’s shirt. Then a tongue swiped at his lips and the nymph gasped, moaning quietly when that tongue crept inside his now-open mouth.
He didn’t know what to do, and so he more or less just stood there clutching at Len and trusting the man to know what he was doing. All he knew was that this felt unbelievably right, however strange it was.
As they parted once more Joanna ran back into the main room of the little cabin, smiling gleefully at the sudden change in atmosphere that the nymph knew she didn’t fully understand the reason for. It didn’t matter, though; he was bringing joy into their lives again, and that was more than enough for him.
~*~
He sat on a branch in his mother’s realm, having swapped his light-colored heavier clothing for the green tunic and filmy brown pants preferred by wood nymphs in warmer climates. It was warm in his mother’s realm at this time of year, and he didn’t particularly enjoy the sensation of overheating.
“What seems to be the problem, son? This is the second time you’ve visited in as many weeks,” his mother pointed out, sitting beside him and smoothing out her white skirt.
“What am I supposed to do? I thought this would be easier,” he muttered.
She chuckled melodiously. “With humans, it never is. Has he showed you what human kissing is like yet?”
He blushed a deep red color as he remembered a night spent curled on the couch in front of the fireplace, doing nothing but that. “Mother!”
She grinned. “Well? Has he or hasn’t he?”
He mumbled noncommittally, and her grin widened. “He has! It’s wonderful, isn’t it, even though it seems strange?” she exclaimed.
“But what am I supposed to do now? He’s a human, and I...”
Her grin softened as she placed a delicate hand on his shoulder. “And you love him.”
“I what?!”
“You love him,” she repeated. “And that love is one of the most wonderful things in the world. How did you think you came into being, Jim?”
She only ever used his name for emphasis, mostly sticking to the familial terms all nymphs used to address each other. He knew exactly why she was using it this time, and he wasn’t sure what to do with it. “But he’s a human, and I’m a nymph! He’s going to leave in a week, even less than a week now, and forget all about me, and it’s not like I can go with him when I need to stay in my realm at least most of the time!” He let his head fall into his hands, sighing.
His mother was being oddly silent, and when he peeked at her face through his fingers she looked entirely too thoughtful. “I’ll be right back, son,” she said, skimming the treetops as she flew in the direction he knew would take her to her current lover, king of the wood nymphs.
True to her word, she was back quickly, dragging along a nymph with the appearance of an older male. “I’ve been told you’re in love with a human like your mother was?” he asked.
The nymph nodded, hiding his face. It wasn’t traditional, and it wasn’t supposed to happen, but there was no point denying any longer that he loved Len.
The king sighed. “Ordinarily I wouldn’t do this, but one of our most promising young nymphs is almost of age now. He would ordinarily take the place of an older nymph, but he can take yours instead.” He raised a hand, stopping the nymph before he could say anything. “This is a permanent decision. You will be unable to return to your current standing among the wood nymphs, although you will be allowed to visit on occasion. Your life will be tied to the human’s, as that is the magic that will let you leave. When he dies, you will die as well. Do you agree to these terms?”
The nymph nodded, unable to believe his incredible luck.
The king smiled, his grey eyes softening. “Then if he loves you in return, James Tiberius Kirk, it is done.”
Those three words sounded with power and Jim began to fall.
~*~
Jim opened his eyes and found himself in a snowdrift outside the cabin. Struggling to his feet, he noticed that he was no longer as nimble, and when he tried to fly he fell to the ground again.
Ordinarily a nymph would be horrified at this turn of events, but he had never been more delighted in his life. Running inside the cabin, he hugged Len from behind.
Len jumped, turning around, and smiled. “You’re back! Where’ve you been for the past couple of days?”
Jim blushed faintly, suddenly wondering if his decision had been too forward and if Len would even want him after this. “I had to talk with my mother,” he started, uncertain how to proceed.
Soon the decision of whether or not to continue was taken away from him, though, for Len pulled back slightly, observing him closely. “What’d you talk about? You look... different now, though I’m not quite sure how to place it.”
Jim fidgeted. “I, uh... I had to tell her about us. I wanted to see if there was anything I could do about being unable to leave the forest. Remember, we talked about that?”
Len nodded. “Yeah. So what’d she say?”
“Well, she... she might’ve talked to the king of the nymphs for me. I...”
Len looked at him, encouraging him to go on.
Jim took a deep breath and spat it out. “I’m a human now, and if you’ll have me I can leave with you.”
Len froze in shock, staring at him. “Bullshit.”
Jim flinched as if he had been slapped. Something in him hurt at that, and warmth trickled down his face as something in his chest froze. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but he was unable to find words.
He had to get away. He had to find out what was hurting, what was wrong. Before he could do more than take a step away, though, a hand gently clasped around his wrist, pulling him back into Len’s arms. “Shit, Jim, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to make you cry,” he murmured, a thumb wiping away what Jim now recognized as tears. “It’s just... it’s not every day you hear that someone gave up flight and magic and immortality for you, you know? You surprised me, that’s all.”
Jim stepped closer, somehow feeling better at Len’s proximity and explanation but still unable to speak. Burying his face in the brunet’s shoulder, he felt his breathing settle and noted for the first time that it must have become irregular at some point, idly wondering when exactly that had happened.
He felt fingers stroke through his hair before Len pulled away a bit, amber-green eyes looking into his closely. “Did you mean it?” he asked. “You’re... human now?”
Jim nodded. “And if you want me, I’ll stay that way.” Unable to meet Len’s intense gaze, he averted his eyes, staring at his own feet.
After a moment, he felt fingers under his chin lifting his gaze to see a soft smile on Len’s face. Before he could process that, though, Len’s lips were on his, and it felt even more amazing than it had before.
Later, they would have to deal with Joanna running out asking, “Did you find him, Dad?” and then screaming, “Eww! Gross!” in the way that only twelve-year-olds could fully achieve. But for the moment it was only them, lost in each other and knowing it could be that way for a long time. It was one of the most beautiful things Jim had ever felt.
Fandom: Star Trek XI (AU)
Pairing: Jim/Bones
Rating: PG
Word Count: 5300
Summary: As a wood nymph, it's been a while since he had last seen people, and Jim couldn't be more fascinated. Written for the space_wrapped prompt that starts with: Every winter McCoy takes his wife and child up to their log cabin in the mountains to spend Christmas and New Years. Jim is a sprite/faerie/forest creature/whatever...
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even the prompt.
A/N: Beta-read by bandearg_rois and additionally by a no-account lurker friend of mine.
Softer and More Beautiful
“Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful.”
~Norman Vincent Peale~
~*~
He was wandering through the woods that were his domain when he felt a sudden burst of pain. Being a wood nymph, he knew the pain meant one of his trees had been wounded, and the sudden halt of the sensation meant the tree had died.
He didn’t need the sound of the crash to tell him where the tree had once stood. Wood nymphs were intimately connected with all of the trees in their forests, and he knew exactly where to look. It was a tree at the edge of a little clearing that had been made back in the day when people still respected and acknowledged sprites and nymphs and the like, exchanging various goods and trinkets for the trees they used to make a little cabin. It had been a pine in the prime of its life, about seven feet tall with evenly spaced branches and rich green needles. Curious as to why this tree had been killed instead of a tree that would have made better lumber, he stopped by for a quick visit, hiding behind a wintry breeze.
“Whatcha doin’, Daddy?” a little girl asked.
A man, presumably the father, chuckled as he straightened. “No one ever told you about wood nymphs, darlin’?”
Puzzled, for no one had mentioned his kind in his hearing for a century, he listened on as the daughter said, “No. What about ‘em?”
“Well, they rule over the forests. We took this tree from a nymph, and it’s only nice to return something to him or her. So I left a little something behind. It’s like sayin’ thank you for givin’ us this nice tree.”
“Now, Leonard, are you teaching Jo more of your fairy tales?” asked a woman, icily beautiful, as she slipped an arm around his waist.
“It’s been family tradition for years, Jocelyn,” the man replied. “You know that; you’ve been around for Christmas before. Sure, it seems more than a bit odd, and I’m not even sure why we do it. But I’m not one to let tradition go, you know that.”
She smiled at that. “No, you’re not.”
As the family walked toward the cabin with the pine in tow, the nymph waited until he was sure no one would see him before dropping to the ground the man had been bent over. Half-buried there was a piece of wood carved delicately into the shape of a leaf. It had a small hole in it, which had been used to attach a piece of string to the leaf and make a necklace.
He smiled. It had been so long since someone had left him a gift, and it had been even longer since he had received a gift so beautiful.
He still wasn’t quite sure what they were planning on doing with his tree, but he figured it would take time for them to actually do it. He could afford to fly about on the woodsy breeze for a few moments in joy.
~*~
The next day he returned to the clearing to see if they would notice their gift had been taken. Fondly touching the leaf that was now around his neck, he sat in the branches of a nearby pine and waited.
Sure enough, father and daughter began walking toward the stump of the felled tree, hand in hand. The mother was absent, though, and he frowned at that. Was it simply because she didn’t believe in the stories, or was there more he wasn’t seeing?
“Look, Daddy!” cried the girl. “It’s gone!”
“It sure is,” the man said, clearly shocked. Had he not really believed in the tradition he’d followed?
“What’s that mean?” the girl wanted to know.
“Well, it means the nymph liked our present. Maybe he or she isn’t so sad we took the tree anymore.” The man still looked disbelieving, though. If the squirrels hadn’t been hibernating the nymph would have guessed the man thought one had taken the leaf instead. But the woods slept; nothing dared come this far into the open except for him.
“I hope so,” the little girl said. “I don’t want the nymph to be sad.”
He smiled as the pair walked off toward the cabin. Clearly the man had forgotten the other part of what happened if the nymph liked the present. He would look forward to surprising him.
There were more pressing matters, though, and he quickly followed them to the cabin, blending in with the snow. He wanted to see what had happened to the tree.
Peeking through a window, he saw the family hanging trinkets on the branches of the tree, heightening the pine’s natural beauty with bits of silver and gold and gently flashing lights. The cabin’s interior was decorated similarly, and the food smells coming through the barely-open window were amazing. Clearly the tree was part of a celebration of some sort.
He smiled before returning to the forest. If they wanted a tree for celebrating, he didn’t mind at all. Besides, he had vague memories of this celebration, though it had been a long time since he had seen it. Christmas, it was called, and it involved a gift exchange.
It was a perfect way to follow through with his plan.
~*~
He snuck into the cabin on a wintry breeze late in the night before the morning of the gift exchange, three presents in his arms. He had even wrapped them, using a little magic, some leaves, and a hint of snow.
Setting them with the other presents he saw under the tree, he curled up in a corner, dismissing the winter wind and calling some of the cabin’s warmer air to conceal him instead so as not to attract attention, and waited for the dawn.
It came loudly, with raucous shouts of, “Mommy! Daddy! Presents!” from the little one and exhausted groans from the adults. Soon the entire family found their way downstairs.
He delighted in the shock on the faces of the parents when they noticed there were three extra gifts under the pine tree. Clearly the man had forgotten a vital part of his folklore, if he had forgotten about the return gifts.
The girl opened the little box with the name Joanna on it, revealing a delicate snowglobe made from part of the stump left behind from the pine, real snow, and magic. “Look!” she shouted delightedly. “It’s so pretty!”
In his corner the nymph beamed, pleased she liked his gift.
The woman, Jocelyn, was also pleased by the gift of earrings in the shape of silver leaves to match her pale blonde hair and icy blue eyes. If he hadn’t known better he would have guessed Jocelyn was a descendant of the Queen of Winter, such was her appearance.
He had debated longer about what to get for Leonard. Girls were easy; they liked trinkets like the ones he had given them. It was harder to come up with good ideas for return gifts for men, especially since he was so out of practice. Shutting his eyes, he hoped as hard as he could as the man opened the box with his name on it.
Inside the box was a framed picture. He had painstakingly sketched what the family might have looked like sitting under a different tree, one of the tulip poplars in his realm, in the summer. A faint breeze teased the hair of the woman and the child, and they were all happy and smiling at each other as the sun shone.
He smiled widely as the man gave it an appreciative look, though the man couldn’t see him. It was always good to know his return gifts were well-liked.
“Well, Leonard, do you have any idea where these came from?” asked the woman, clearly thinking it was her husband who had gotten the earrings.
“I have no idea,” the man replied.
“Innit obvious?” the girl asked with all the charm of a little child. “It was Santa!”
He smiled as they all laughed, feeling their joy.
As the man and woman went into another room, he went to leave, but was stopped when the girl looked straight at him. He froze; could she see him?
His question was answered when she said, “Thank you, whoever you are. I know you’re not Santa, but it was still real nice of you.”
He smiled, gave her a brief hug since his cover had already been blown, and vanished, seemingly without a trace.
~*~
When the family had left the next day he’d been convinced that was it. He had just resigned himself to waiting another century or so for an exchange like that when they came back for Christmas the next winter.
It seemed as if they had enjoyed the place, for it was their third year coming to that little cabin in the woods. Joanna had aged some, shooting up like the sapling she was. Jocelyn was progressively cold as the years went by, but still they remained a happy family. Idly the nymph wondered how much longer the illusion of Jocelyn being happy would last; he could tell how events were going to play out in that relationship.
Perhaps it was because of that he found himself not liking Jocelyn much. He was absolutely smitten with the girl and rather fond of her father as well, and Jocelyn was only going to hurt them both.
Still, out of a sense of propriety he continued to give her return gifts as well as the others, though he realized his return gifts to her were getting more and more thoughtless.
On the other hand, the gifts that had been given to him for the use of his trees had gotten better and better. After that beautiful wooden leaf he had been given a wooden flute which he still used from time to time when the woods got boring, and Joanna had insisted upon choosing the gift to be given this year, saying, “He’s gotta be cold! Let’s give him a scarf to keep warm!” The parents had questioned how Joanna knew the nymph was a him, but they played along, and the scarf was a truly beautiful shade of green that matched the needles of the pine the family had taken that year.
In return, he gave Joanna a little carved squirrel that the eleven-year-old adored. Jocelyn received another pair of earrings, this pair made from the snow that fell in his realm and reminded him of the iciness of the woman. She still seemed to find them beautiful, though.
It had not gotten any easier to think of return gifts for Leonard. He was a man whose profession was rooted in the future, but he still honored the traditions of the past. He was a bundle of contradictions that the nymph found difficult to read, but that only made him all the more determined to give the man gifts he enjoyed.
This year, he had carved something for Leonard as well, staining the wood with various pigments that could be created with natural materials. It had taken a lot of work and a great deal of travel, but he knew the man was worth the effort.
He couldn’t help but smile when he saw the pleased expression on Leonard’s face when he saw the carefully stained blue iris. He also noticed that Jocelyn didn’t understand the meaning of the flower.
“What is that?” she demanded. “Who would give it to you?”
“I don’t know who it is,” came Leonard’s slow, thoughtful reply, “but whoever it is seems to think I’m a good friend. That’s what the flower means: valued friendship.”
“I told you, it’s Santa!” Joanna exclaimed. The nymph chuckled; the girl held on to her beliefs.
He froze as all three humans looked around, cursing himself for forgetting that he could still be heard. His voice would have seemed slightly different to each of them, depending on their perceptions of what was pleasing in a voice, but it would have been perfectly audible nonetheless. Taking advantage of their confusion, he quickly fled through a window that had been left slightly open.
Flying quickly to a nearby pine, the nymph sat on an upper branch and allowed himself to calm. That had been a close call; he wasn’t sure he wanted to be discovered in what was technically the home of another, especially when one of the people who would have discovered him was Jocelyn. She struck him as rather disbelieving and unkind, an extremely hurtful combination for his kind. It was entirely possible he would not have survived a face-to-face encounter with her.
~*~
After another year had passed the nymph had forgotten the near-disaster the year before had been and was looking forward to the family’s visit. Moving as close to the edge of the clearing as he dared, he began to watch over the cabin in anticipation of the family’s arrival.
He was aghast when he saw what had happened.
Jocelyn was absent, and the ring Leonard had always wore on his left hand was absent as well. She had finally left, then. That in and of itself wasn’t entirely surprising to him. What affected him more was the obvious sorrow of both father and child. He had expected Jocelyn to leave, but now that it had happened he felt a surge of anger directed toward her because of the pain she had caused.
Frowning, he moved closer, hiding behind a breeze as was his habit. He had to know more, even though he wasn’t sure he wanted to.
“Why isn’t she here?” the little girl wanted to know.
A stricken look crossed the father’s face before he carefully hid it. “Because she’s not happy with me, Jo.”
The nymph wasn’t sure what the strange feeling that passed through him was, and he wasn’t sure why he suddenly wanted to be with them. It hurt, though, knowing that it wasn’t something he could do. All he could do was continue with the return gifts. Unless...
The nymph quickly took off, looking over his shoulder one last time before flying away. It was time to talk to his mother.
~*~
He soon returned to the clearing, having obtained permission to follow through with his plan. It really was easier to get things approved when your mother was involved with the wood nymphs’ King, he reflected idly as he pondered how best to go about this.
Deciding on a simple approach, he picked a nearby tree and simply fell out of the sky, feigning a loss of consciousness as he hit the snow. Sure enough, little feet soon came running and a little voice screamed, “Daddy! Daddy! C’mere!”
Larger footsteps soon followed and Leonard’s voice asked, “What is it, Jo?”
“Look at him!”
There was a muffled thump and then a large hand wrapped around his wrist, clearly checking for something. He figured now was as good a moment as any to reveal that he was awake, and opened his eyes slowly.
Sure enough, Leonard was crouched beside him, and he couldn’t help staring as he saw that face up close for the first time. Frown lines were beginning to be etched between amber eyes flecked with green, and he practically itched with the urge to smooth them out somehow. The chestnut hair was tousled from the breeze the nymph had been playing with earlier, and he couldn’t help thinking that Leonard looked more the part of the wood nymph than he himself did with his blond hair and blue eyes.
Focusing again, he noticed that the man was saying something. “What?” he asked, hoping Leonard would repeat whatever it had been.
“I said, where’d you come from?” Leonard’s face and light baritone voice both implied irritation, but the nymph could easily read the care and concern in the man’s eyes.
“The woods,” he replied, seeing no reason to lie.
“Sure,” came the sarcastic response. “What’s your name, kid?”
The nymph had to actually think on that one for a moment. He had a name, sure, but most nymphs didn’t use them. Everyone was either a relative or a friend, and so they had no need for names.
The man rolled his eyes. “You do have a name, right?”
“Yes, I do. I just don’t use it very often,” he answered, still trying to think.
“Well, why not?” Leonard demanded.
“‘Cause he’s the nymph that lives here!” came Joanna’s shout of recognition.
Leonard rolled his eyes again, and the nymph was certain that if he did it again they would stick that way. “Sorry about my daughter; she has an overactive imagination.”
“No, no, she’s right,” the nymph reassured. “It’s been a long time since she last saw me, but she’s right. I’m amazed she remembered.”
The man’s expressive eyes narrowed suspiciously. “And what exactly have you been doing, that my daughter would see you but no one else would?”
“I was hiding in your cabin to see if you liked the return gifts I gave you,” he explained, not sure at all why Leonard was so suspicious. “I don’t know why she saw me; she just did.”
“You were--wait, return gifts? What’re you talking about?” the man asked, clearly confused.
He laughed. “You know, I’ve always wondered how you could be so informed about some parts of the legends of my kind and so woefully inadequate when it comes to the knowledge of other parts. If a wood nymph likes the gift you gave him or her in return for a tree, it’s customary for the nymph to give a return gift to show appreciation.”
Smiling, he watched as the pieces began to fit together in Leonard’s mind. “You mean those were you?”
Smile widening, he chuckled again. “Who did you think they were from? Even when she was eight Joanna knew it wasn’t Santa.”
Suddenly Leonard’s eyes dropped to his neck, and he could see them widen when they saw the pendant that was still hanging there. Surely by now the man was beginning to believe, since he had been so open to at least learning the folklore before?
“Look, would it help you believe if I flew?” he demanded. “Do you want me to change my appearance so I look like what you think a nymph should look like? Do you want me to appear as a woman? Because I can do all of those.”
“No,” Leonard sighed. “I don’t think I could handle that. Just... give me some time to get used to this, all right?”
“Fine,” he replied, and then he grinned as he finally remembered his name. “The name my father gave me is James Tiberius Kirk. That’s what you wanted to know, right?”
“The name your father gave you?”
“Yes; my mother didn’t give me one because wood nymphs have no use for names. My father was human, though, and so he named me.”
The nymph grinned as Leonard shook his head, clearly confused. This had been the greatest plan ever.
~*~
“Come on, Len; it’ll be fun!” he pouted.
“I really don’t see the point in you flying me over the forest, Jim. I know Joanna can look after herself, but I’m--” Leonard broke off with a yelp as the nymph decided he’d had enough of listening to the man and simply grabbed him, using a stronger breeze than normal to propel them upward.
The nymph frowned when he noticed that the brunet’s eyes were tightly shut. “Len?”
“If you’d waited a few more moments, Jim, you would’ve heard me say I’m afraid of heights,” came the terse reply.
“Hush,” he ordered. “Open your eyes, but don’t look down. Just look out.”
Len complied and the nymph felt a strange twisting sensation as he observed the man’s expression of wonder at their surroundings. The forest from above was a view he never tired of, but he suspected he would come to appreciate this one just as much if he didn’t already.
He could still see the remnant of fear in the man’s eyes, though, and so he gently landed them in the clearing again. “See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“If you do it again, I’ll kill you,” the man replied as the nymph chuckled.
“I don’t have to. You saw what I wanted you to see.” As he smiled, their eyes met and he was once again struck by the mix of earth-brown and grass-green that swirled warmly in Len’s eyes. This time, however, the combination of color wasn’t the only reason he was so stunned; it was the peace and warmth and contentment he was reading from them. For just a few moments, he had made Len happy.
He would have to come up with the best return gift ever in return for this sight.
~*~
That happiness had faded by the time they got inside. Really, the nymph wasn’t too surprised; the family had definitely been through hard times that year. However, he was still feeling a strong urge to wipe that pain away, even though he wasn’t sure what he could do about it.
As Len went through the motions of making an apple pie and Joanna worked at sewing something or other, he sat in a place where he could observe them both and weighed possible options. He wasn’t really sure what he could do, though; he just hadn’t been with this family long enough, even though it felt like he’d been a family member for a long time.
Joanna went into her bedroom for something and the nymph wandered into the kitchen. “That smells good,” he commented.
Len didn’t even look up, much less reply. He seemed entirely focussed on his work.
The nymph frowned, moving closer and gently touching the man’s elbow. That seemed to get his attention, as he looked up with eyes that were so much duller than they had been just a few hours ago. “What, Jim?”
He hadn’t been entirely sure what he was going to say when he’d wandered over, but he didn’t stop the words that welled up as he locked gazes with the man. “Why can’t you be happy longer than a few passing moments?”
Len sighed. “It’s not that simple, Jim.”
“I know it’s not!” the nymph exclaimed. “But... isn’t there anything I can do, anything at all? I don’t like seeing you hurt,” he explained, feeling crystalline tears like melted snow well up in his eyes as he ran a single finger down Len’s cheek.
He leaned into the touch as Len raised a hand to his own cheek, saying, “You don’t have to do anything, darlin’. You being here is more than good enough.”
Overcome, the nymph leaned in and touched the tip of his nose to the tip of Len’s, gasping at how right the sensation felt. He could tell Len wasn’t too sure what to make of it, but the man stood there and allowed him to run the tip of his nose along his. Finally, though, when the nymph had been reduced to gasps and ragged breaths and clutching at Len’s arms, the brunet seemed to catch on. “This is how nymphs kiss, isn’t it?”
He nodded, whining quietly in the back of his throat as the motion caused even more gentle friction between their noses. Pulling back ever so slightly to catch his runaway breath, he was shocked when Len wound fingers through his hair, keeping him close.
Len was smiling now, that soft smile that the nymph had seen so rarely and only ever directed at him. “Let me show you how humans do it.”
He nodded, smiling in return, and then his lips were covered with Len’s and it felt so strange in the best possible way. He sighed happily into the mouth that was still in contact with his, stepping closer and moving a hand to the back of Len’s neck and the other to tangle in the man’s shirt. Then a tongue swiped at his lips and the nymph gasped, moaning quietly when that tongue crept inside his now-open mouth.
He didn’t know what to do, and so he more or less just stood there clutching at Len and trusting the man to know what he was doing. All he knew was that this felt unbelievably right, however strange it was.
As they parted once more Joanna ran back into the main room of the little cabin, smiling gleefully at the sudden change in atmosphere that the nymph knew she didn’t fully understand the reason for. It didn’t matter, though; he was bringing joy into their lives again, and that was more than enough for him.
~*~
He sat on a branch in his mother’s realm, having swapped his light-colored heavier clothing for the green tunic and filmy brown pants preferred by wood nymphs in warmer climates. It was warm in his mother’s realm at this time of year, and he didn’t particularly enjoy the sensation of overheating.
“What seems to be the problem, son? This is the second time you’ve visited in as many weeks,” his mother pointed out, sitting beside him and smoothing out her white skirt.
“What am I supposed to do? I thought this would be easier,” he muttered.
She chuckled melodiously. “With humans, it never is. Has he showed you what human kissing is like yet?”
He blushed a deep red color as he remembered a night spent curled on the couch in front of the fireplace, doing nothing but that. “Mother!”
She grinned. “Well? Has he or hasn’t he?”
He mumbled noncommittally, and her grin widened. “He has! It’s wonderful, isn’t it, even though it seems strange?” she exclaimed.
“But what am I supposed to do now? He’s a human, and I...”
Her grin softened as she placed a delicate hand on his shoulder. “And you love him.”
“I what?!”
“You love him,” she repeated. “And that love is one of the most wonderful things in the world. How did you think you came into being, Jim?”
She only ever used his name for emphasis, mostly sticking to the familial terms all nymphs used to address each other. He knew exactly why she was using it this time, and he wasn’t sure what to do with it. “But he’s a human, and I’m a nymph! He’s going to leave in a week, even less than a week now, and forget all about me, and it’s not like I can go with him when I need to stay in my realm at least most of the time!” He let his head fall into his hands, sighing.
His mother was being oddly silent, and when he peeked at her face through his fingers she looked entirely too thoughtful. “I’ll be right back, son,” she said, skimming the treetops as she flew in the direction he knew would take her to her current lover, king of the wood nymphs.
True to her word, she was back quickly, dragging along a nymph with the appearance of an older male. “I’ve been told you’re in love with a human like your mother was?” he asked.
The nymph nodded, hiding his face. It wasn’t traditional, and it wasn’t supposed to happen, but there was no point denying any longer that he loved Len.
The king sighed. “Ordinarily I wouldn’t do this, but one of our most promising young nymphs is almost of age now. He would ordinarily take the place of an older nymph, but he can take yours instead.” He raised a hand, stopping the nymph before he could say anything. “This is a permanent decision. You will be unable to return to your current standing among the wood nymphs, although you will be allowed to visit on occasion. Your life will be tied to the human’s, as that is the magic that will let you leave. When he dies, you will die as well. Do you agree to these terms?”
The nymph nodded, unable to believe his incredible luck.
The king smiled, his grey eyes softening. “Then if he loves you in return, James Tiberius Kirk, it is done.”
Those three words sounded with power and Jim began to fall.
~*~
Jim opened his eyes and found himself in a snowdrift outside the cabin. Struggling to his feet, he noticed that he was no longer as nimble, and when he tried to fly he fell to the ground again.
Ordinarily a nymph would be horrified at this turn of events, but he had never been more delighted in his life. Running inside the cabin, he hugged Len from behind.
Len jumped, turning around, and smiled. “You’re back! Where’ve you been for the past couple of days?”
Jim blushed faintly, suddenly wondering if his decision had been too forward and if Len would even want him after this. “I had to talk with my mother,” he started, uncertain how to proceed.
Soon the decision of whether or not to continue was taken away from him, though, for Len pulled back slightly, observing him closely. “What’d you talk about? You look... different now, though I’m not quite sure how to place it.”
Jim fidgeted. “I, uh... I had to tell her about us. I wanted to see if there was anything I could do about being unable to leave the forest. Remember, we talked about that?”
Len nodded. “Yeah. So what’d she say?”
“Well, she... she might’ve talked to the king of the nymphs for me. I...”
Len looked at him, encouraging him to go on.
Jim took a deep breath and spat it out. “I’m a human now, and if you’ll have me I can leave with you.”
Len froze in shock, staring at him. “Bullshit.”
Jim flinched as if he had been slapped. Something in him hurt at that, and warmth trickled down his face as something in his chest froze. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but he was unable to find words.
He had to get away. He had to find out what was hurting, what was wrong. Before he could do more than take a step away, though, a hand gently clasped around his wrist, pulling him back into Len’s arms. “Shit, Jim, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to make you cry,” he murmured, a thumb wiping away what Jim now recognized as tears. “It’s just... it’s not every day you hear that someone gave up flight and magic and immortality for you, you know? You surprised me, that’s all.”
Jim stepped closer, somehow feeling better at Len’s proximity and explanation but still unable to speak. Burying his face in the brunet’s shoulder, he felt his breathing settle and noted for the first time that it must have become irregular at some point, idly wondering when exactly that had happened.
He felt fingers stroke through his hair before Len pulled away a bit, amber-green eyes looking into his closely. “Did you mean it?” he asked. “You’re... human now?”
Jim nodded. “And if you want me, I’ll stay that way.” Unable to meet Len’s intense gaze, he averted his eyes, staring at his own feet.
After a moment, he felt fingers under his chin lifting his gaze to see a soft smile on Len’s face. Before he could process that, though, Len’s lips were on his, and it felt even more amazing than it had before.
Later, they would have to deal with Joanna running out asking, “Did you find him, Dad?” and then screaming, “Eww! Gross!” in the way that only twelve-year-olds could fully achieve. But for the moment it was only them, lost in each other and knowing it could be that way for a long time. It was one of the most beautiful things Jim had ever felt.