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[flowers_on_skin]

It was Christmas Eve, babe...in the drunk tank, and an old man said to me, "won't see another one".

Christmas had always somewhat perplexed Eostre, if she was honest. She didn't understand. The trees were pretty. She'd always rather enjoyed the food, but it seemed to her that God got rather lost in it. The Christians had such a funny little

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[one_eyed_rags]

Ragetti was deeply confused by the decorative tree in the bookroom, but he had, for the most part, ignored it's presense. He had at first been tempted to attempt climbing it like a wayward cat, but had dismissed the idea as soon as it was struck. The growing presence of apparent gifts beneath it had also been tempting, and he had been putting up a noble battle with his inner pirate in the effort to not steal them and hide them in the forest until everyone forgot they were missing. But he had, for the generous most part, won that battle.

The presense of the woman was not unusual, for he had certainly seen her in the room before, but had never made an attempt at approaching her. But the sight of her little plate of biscuits and her unguarded position seemed an open enough invitation to attempt making conversation.

" 'ullo, Mizzez." he tried nervously as he climbed onto a sofa near her.

[flowers_on_skin]

She lifted her head to look at him.

"Hello, pet," she said. "Would you like a biscuit?"

She helt out the plate to him, her hand swathed in her sweater.

[one_eyed_rags]

Flushing he nervously glanced from her to the plate and, quick as lightening, snatched one up incase she changed her mind and the offer was removed. Nibbling at it slowly he watched her in twitchy shyness. "Fank ye, Mizzez."

[flowers_on_skin]

Eostre smiled, lifting her leg to give him more room on the couch, watching him eat the biscuit.

"No problem at all, my love. If I eat them all, I'll be the size of a house and I've got plenty of time for that."

[one_eyed_rags]

The terms of affection were enough to help him relax a little, but he coninued to watch her carefully. She also reminded him of a woman he had begged from as a wean. But this time it wasn't the memory of hidden cruelty that the Noble's wife represented. This woman reminded him more of the baker's wife. A happy enough woman who slipped him crusts of bread and the occasional biscuit that had been too burned to be sold.

Giving her a quick unobrusive once over he gave her a quirk of the lips around his snack. "Take more den few biscuits ta do dat ta ye Mizzez. Bu' not me place ta say. No' proper." He flushed and nibbled his biscuit, carefully enjoying the taste.

[flowers_on_skin]

"Oh, no. The baby'll do that to me. The biscuits'll just help. And you can call me Eostre, pet. I've never been anybody's Missus."

She watched him eat the biscuit, a smile lifting the corner of her mouth.

"You can have more if you want," she said.

[one_eyed_rags]

"Baby." His one eyed gaze slipped down to her belly curiously but quickly snapped back up as his ears pinkened. "Eostre. Dat purty name. M'Ragetti, Mizz- er, Eostre." He smiled nervously and his vision slunk down to the plate and back to her smile a few times before he snatched up two more quickly and held them in his hands. It was strange that the people on this island were so giving. Eostre's resemblance to the baker's wife made him feel like a begging orphan all over again, but this time the biscuits weren't burnt.

[flowers_on_skin]

Eostre took another biscuit for herself and took a hearty bite of it. Gods, but she was hungry.

"Baby. She's barely here yet, but she'll be making herself known and me fat before much longer, I bet."

She grinned.

[one_eyed_rags]

Returning her smile he slowly began to relax and settled into the couch a bit more so he would be more comfortable and would be able to watch her. Pulling his long legs up beneath himself he took an actual bite from his biscuit and watched her carefully.

"I mets two preg'ant ladies so far. Miz Padme ans Miz Bridget. De was nice. I dun know much 'bout babies." Talking about babies with a woman who was neither his sister or (Heathen Gods' Forbid) his wife seemed innapropriate, but he wasn't sure how to properly change the subject without offending her. And the biscuits were too good to risk her demanding them back.

[flowers_on_skin]

"Me either," she said. "I was looking at the tree. I don't really understand. I mean, I know what Christmas is, but I don't see the point of a dead, decorated tree."

She made a face.

"It's a very human thing to do."

[one_eyed_rags]

He looked at the tree and also made a face as he munched openly on his goodie. "I fink I 'uman, buts dun get i' neit'er. Bu' I ne'er cle'brated Christmas afore."

[flowers_on_skin]

"Me either," said Eostre, with a wrinkled nose. "It'll be a new experience for both of us. And I've got a little boy to worry about."

[one_eyed_rags]

He perked up and looked over at her again. "Aww, ye 'ave a li'le laddie? Summat special 'bouts a wean. More fun den grown peoples."

[flowers_on_skin]

"He isn't mine. Well. I suppose he is. He lives with me. He's twelve." She smiled as she listened to him. "You're right, you know. They are."

[one_eyed_rags]

He didn't question or argue. She was clearly one of the rare occuring good women of the world. The kind that took in little laddies with no mum to care for them, and gave people biscuits for free.

"Dat righ' nice o' ye Eostre. Lad needs a mum or mum-like lady ins 'is life. Me mum wen' when I was righ' li'le, ans I fink I prolly b righ'e diff'ren' 'ad she lived."

[flowers_on_skin]

The desire took her and Eostre reached out to brush his hair back from his face.

"The island's not so bad on the motherless," she said. "But he's only very little, so he lives with me. I'm going to ask a friend of mine to build a room onto my hut for him when the snow melts."

She was honestly starting to believe that the snow would melt.