I haven't posted any fanfics before, and this was typed up really fast, but I don't write much, so any feedback would be appreciated. Thank you, my friends!

-Mercy

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A cold wind howled in the treetops as a tall grey buck tromped through the fresh snow, a carefully wrapped package tucked under his left arm. As he left my sight, I felt the urge to run after him - to bring him home with me. I shivered, nearly losing my balance, and felt the melting snow soaking through my skirt. I swung down from my perch in a small oak, and stretched out my nearly frozen legs, before beginning the heading home.

I entered the house to the smell of freshly baked bread and cookies. Mama was bustling around the kitchen, preparing delicacies for the next day. She smiled when I came in, hurrying over to hug me.

"How did you get all wet? Is it snowing that hard?" Mama took my cloak and pulled me over by the fire.

I smiled, "I saw Eric."

"Did you talk to him today, or just see him like last time?" Mama asked as she went back to her cooking. I looked down into the flames.

"He was on his way home, I suppose. I only saw him from a distance. He is so busy, Mama, I feel as though we never see each other anymore," I sighed, leaning my head on my palm.

I watched Mama's hands methodically kneading a roll of dough, and saw a strange look on her face, "They're coming over on Christmas for a little while. I'm sure you can talk then."

The door opened, and a flurry of snow blew in.

"Daddy!" I cried, running to take his things and lead him to the fire. He was tired, I could see. He was always tired now. When the Good King had fallen, everything had grown hard. But Christmas was soon, and he could rest for the week.

"How was your day, little Ansley?" Dad asked as he sat down in the chair of honor by the fire. I smiled. Dad could never stop calling me 'little'.

"Master Corleyn was sick with a cold, so we did our best by ourselves. One doe spilled wet clay on her lap, and everything was chaotic. Other than that, everything was fine." I smirked, "What about yours?"

"Getting better. I think we may have peace again soon, my dear, and for this week we will have only peace. This week we will have our Christmas."