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Cinnamon Bun - Holiday Special 2025
🕑 Added 2025-12-23 01:10:55 +0000 UTCHoliday Special
One day, during a wintry storm...
“You want to do what?” Amaryllis asked.
I puffed my cheeks out, not caring that I might look a little silly with such a big pout on. “I want to travel around the world and spread good cheer and happiness,” I said.
Amaryllis’ look could not have been any flatter, unless she decided to squish her nose in until it lost any resemblance to a beak. “On whose dime?” she asked.
“Happiness and good cheer pays for itself,” I said.
“It absolutely does not,” Amaryllis replied. “I’d love to see you pay for a full meal with good cheer.”
“I wouldn’t take that bet,” Desiree warned. “I’m quite certain that Captain Bunch could very well do just that. She can be very charismatic.”
I flashed Amaryllis a smug smile, which was much better than a big pout. Most of the crew were currently sequestered in the Beaver Cleaver’s dining room. The weather just outside of the big bay window was really quite awful, but in a sort of beautiful way.
It was snowing. We’d been travelling along a mountainous region, and even if we all knew that it could get cold, none of us had expected the sudden snowstorm. So, to be safe, we’d lost a lot of altitude and flung the anchors over to the side to grip onto the ground against the tug of strong, wintery winds.
They had found a small, rather shallow valley between two mountains. The wind was blowing cross-wise above, so the walls of the valley were serving as decent protection, and it was just deep enough that only the very top of the Beaver’s balloon was standing out over the edge of the valley to catch the wind.
Once the ship was settled in, we had retreated into the Beaver’s kitchen. The little cooking stove in the corner of the room didn’t have room for the biggest fire, but it was enough to warm the space up until it was nice and snug, and coupled with all of the blankets from the ship brought into the room, we were rather warm.
Some tea and dried biscuits from the pantry as well as some reheated stew did the rest to make the crew happy.
The view out of the window didn’t hurt either.
The valley’s shape did something to the wind, causing the snow that was pouring down to come as a constant, slow stream of millions of fat snowflakes.
I could look up, pick out one individual flake, and follow its trajectory down to the ever-rising ground.
At this point, it was very likely that the snow-covered floor of the valley was eventually going to climb right up to the Beaver’s hull.
“I’m just saying,” I said as I stretched my legs out. I was squished in between my friends. I had Awen on my right and Desiree on my left. Further off, Caprica and Bastion were sharing a blanket--for warmth--which had pleased Caprica a great deal until Calamity decided to instal himself on Basion’s other side.
Amaryllis was on a rocking chair, snuggled into three layers of blankets. “So, let’s presume that money isn’t an issue with this harebrained plan of yours,” she said.
“Is harebrained a big insult to buns?” I asked.
“It was meant as one,” Amaryllis said.
I gave Amaryllis a look. “Rude,” I said.
“So, what’s this idea of yours, anyway?” Caprica asked.
“It’s simple! Where I’m from, there’s a sort of legendary figure called... uh, well, he had different names at different times, but he was a jolly big fellow, or sometimes a really small fellow, and he’d sneak through people’s chimneys and give them presents. Mostly for children.”
“Creepy,” Caprica said.
“No, no, it’s nice? He gave gifts to kids,” I said.
“After breaking into their homes,” Caprica pointed out.
“Well, yes, a little bit, but it’s okay? It was for a good cause. Anyway, I think we could do something like that too! It’d be a nice idea for a retirement plan.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s a terrible idea for a retirement plan,” Amaryllis said.
I shrugged, then made myself a little smaller because my toes kept slipping out of the bottom of the blankets and it was a bit cool. “Anyway, the idea is more that... maybe when I’m a bit older, I’ll want to do something other than adventuring, and wouldn’t it be nice to go from home to home, slip in, and give people presents?”
“Literally financial suicide,” Amaryllis said.
“And illegal," Caprica added.
I sighed. My friends really didn’t have the greatest sense of holiday spirit.
Awen was the first to soften. She shifted under the blankets, ears twitching as she watched the snow beyond the window. “I think it sounds… nice,” she said. “Not the breaking-in part. Or the chimneys. But the idea of making people smile when it’s cold and dark outside.”
Desiree hummed thoughtfully. “There are worse legacies,” she added. “Most people leave behind debts or grudges. A handful of good memories wouldn’t be the worst thing.”
Amaryllis snorted. “You’re all romanticising theft.”
“It’s not theft if you’re giving things,” I said.
“Theft of my profit margins,” Amaryllis muttered, but her heart wasn’t in it, and I knew that she was mostly complaining because she liked complaining a bunch.
Bastion cleared his throat, careful and polite as always. “If… hypothetically… one were to do such a thing,” he said, “it would require planning. Routes. Preparation. Perhaps help.”
Calamity lifted his head, eyes glinting. “I could help,” he said. “I am excellent at stealth.”
I smiled even as my friends continued to chat and argue and share silly laughs. It made me feel warm. Outside, the snow kept tumbling down, heaping up higher and higher until it started to climb up the side of the hull. It muffled the world until it felt like we were the only ones left in it.
“Look. I don’t mean right now. Or exactly like that. I just mean… doing something kind, just because. I think it’s nice to be nice, you know?”
The room settled, with only the crackle of the fire for noise, at least until the wind howled above the valley, but inside, all I heard was the crackle of the stove and the soft breathing of my friends.
Amaryllis sighed, long and put-upon. “If you ever do this,” she said, “I will not be putting on whater silly costume you have in mind.”
“Aww,” I whined. “But you’re be so cute in red!”
She gave me a look, then shook her head. “You’re impossible.”
I beamed.
The Beaver Cleaver slept through the storm, wrapped in blankets, warmth, and the faintest hint of holiday spirit.
***
