#Solstice Celebration

[linksthoughtbrambles]

The Long Climb Toward Summer

A gift for @a03-anxiousandafraid for the Hateno HIdeout Merry Midna's Mixup gift exchange! A huge thank-you to @bellecream for beta-reading this!

BotW AU, Zelink if you squint, about ~7.5 K words. You can read it on ao3, too!

Summary: An unusual winter solstice celebration prompts Zelda to take a close look at her knight—and her people.

~~❄~~❄~~❄~~❄~~❄~~❄~~

The castle staff had outdone themselves.

Zelda had seen a great many balls, festivals, and celebrations in her eighteen years in Hyrule Castle. 

She’d seen the astounding centennial New Year’s celebration: a hundred paper lanterns entrusted to the sky, emblazoned with the royal crest, Hylia’s golden wings fluttering westward with the wind, a stream of emblems thanking the midnight for allowing them to pass it by.

The ceremony on Zelda’s eleventh birthday had bordered on ethereal. Clergy from all over Hyrule had come to give Zelda their blessing—blessings for her journey from childhood to adulthood, for the grace to take Hylia’s power within and wield it for her people, and for her own protection, that she may be steadfast in body and mind in the face of the Calamity to come.  Shafts of sun had found her as she accepted each with humility.  Past sunset, the acolytes lit the cathedral with thousands of teardrop-shaped candles, faith evaporating the kingdom’s tears before her.  The experience had left her falling into an exhausted sleep, serene, certain she would awaken transformed into Hylia’s light (though, of course, that hadn’t happened, and the weeks following drew dark curtains about Zelda’s thoughts).

Last year’s ball commemorating her father’s fiftieth birthday had been opulent indeed, boasting a host of dainty foods to coat in warm, velvety cheese and rich liquid chocolate, decorations appearing as though they’d been gilded, brazen, defiant against the early September Sun.  The court poet had composed the day’s unyielding sounds: brass boasting a fearlessness of the future.  It had been impossible for anyone in that room to brood within solitary thoughts (except Zelda, of course).

She had seen those remarkable occasions and many others.

Yet this—this—rooted Zelda to the spot with unmitigated awe the instant she passed beneath the archway, even driving thoughts of her intrusively persistent knight-shadow from her.  She didn’t notice the swift scuff of booted toes on stone as he avoided colliding with her.

The traditional ball at winter solstice had barely altered from year to year within her lifetime; a lovely exercise in lighting the long-lingering dark, it made a night of pleasance and tinkling glass which she typically could no longer enjoy.  Bright as they were, candles could not light the deep recesses of Zelda’s heart, nor could they deflect the darkness of black pupils following her in silent condemnation; Zelda, herself, ought to have been the light, by now.  She wasn’t.

These previous experiences had left her unprepared for this year’s departure from the cyclical.

Brilliant rays of diffracted, rainbow light peppered the ballroom’s surfaces of stone, white tablecloth, glass, and a hundred other myriad colors and textures belonging to food, clothing, skin and fixtures Zelda couldn’t process all at once except in overall impression: hope—look at the light.

Those soft rainbows scattered in through the room’s tall windows, through the multi-paned balcony doors to the frigid outer air, emerging from an avian menagerie of ice sculptures arrayed just outside.  Four huge birds loomed, pristine as polished glass: a swan, a crane, a dove, and an owl.  They each bore the appearance of that stance just before flight, angled inward to face the fifth sculpture, still of wings, though not precisely a bird: the traditional three-dimensional representation of the royal family’s crest, the wings encompassing the lower half of the symbol of three triangles.  This particular sculpture’s plumes bore extraordinary detail-work in the true shape of feathers, and the surfaces tweaked the Sun’s golden light into all those shapes and colors.

Just within the border of the windows, a veritable flock of birds hung, wings arced in the grace of mid-flight blessed with gentle updrafts—birds of paper.  Birds of all kinds: sparrows, pigeons, herons, swallows, hawks, pheasants, gulls, all painstakingly shaped and dyed, gentle suggestions of the true bright colors, the sweet sight of spring ever growing with the birds’ flight north (for they all faced that way) as the Sun’s spectral presence shifted among them.

The gargantuan evergreen tree beside the left balcony door stood as the only familiar monument.  Even decorated with shining ribbon, glittering baubles, and dangling spears and spirals of cut glass, its thick needles devoured light—each shaft of brilliance falling upon them splintered, usurped by each spindly leaf’s deep green, diminishing to extinction in silence.  The tree’s height and width entirely hid its innards.  A large assortment of offerings already lay in thanks at its foot: gifts for the less fortunate in Castle Town, a tradition in the royal family to soften the dual cruelties of cold and dark.

It was why this event posed the greatest challenge for the castle’s kitchen, too—for on this night, the castle fed more than its own inhabitants and party guests.  No one in the town would go hungry.  Zelda had seen the trestle tables carried far below her, arrayed in a long line to the gatehouses where dinner would be served for any who wanted it.  The food at the ball itself would be elegant, but nothing so opulent or plentiful as that on her father’s birthday.

A good many people had begun to partake, quite a few couples turning about the dance floor, rainbows dappling their flowing forms.

Her father was not among the dancers or the grazers.

He was walking toward her.

The light appeared far less entrancing with him growing in her vision.

She swallowed, her chin raising the merest fraction.  Whatever it would be this time, she would bear it.  Perhaps he thought she had taken too long in her study of the shrine uncovered at the quarry, time she ought to have devoted to supplication at the feet of the Goddess.

Her father’s heavy boots stopped a few feet from her left.  He towered over her, his face turned down, a crease between his brows, a slight frown as he considered her.  He glanced rightward toward Link and blinked, his head and eyebrows raised as though carefully evaluating her knight, too.

Her father’s eyes then returned to hers-

-and his face softened.

“Zelda,” he said, stepping forward with a smile—a tired one, but genuine—and taking her hands in his with a sign.  “Well.  You look splendid tonight, my dear.”

Her mouth nearly fell open.  The royal seamstress had, indeed, crafted a lovely gown, its heavy skirt well-suited to the cold should she exit to the balcony, its textured cream fabric catching the light within sweeping curves of royal blue and gold embroidery, irregular yet natural, as currents in a gentle brook.  Yet the dress was hardly worthy of surprise.  Her gowns were always lovely.

Her father remarking upon it was another matter entirely.

“How very much like your mother,” he continued.

The room seemed suddenly still as he patted her hands and a recollection arrived—an image of him with her mother at the last of these balls while she lived.  He’d smiled often, then.

“Th- thank you, father,” Zelda said.

“Ah,” he sighed.  “Come.  On this long, dark night… let’s be light, ourselves.”  He offered his arm to her.  She slid hers in as he led her to the dance floor.

The father-daughter dance occurred each year, but this time… this time, he smiled at her as they joined those already making merry.  He spoke of Zelda’s mother: of how she’d loved the solstice ball, how she always pushed him to dance in a far more spritely way than he’d been comfortable with, and how he’d obliged her, of course, since he’d had such difficulty refusing her anything.

“Indeed, daughter, we’d disagreed at first on what to name you.  I’d thought it confusing for your name to be identical to your grandmother’s.  I thought tradition ought to bow to practicality.  For were the two of you in a room, and I were to say, ‘Zelda,’ two heads would swivel my way without some other way to clarify.” He humphed a laugh.  “I’d begun to refer to your grandmother as Zelda One, and you as Zelda Two—only in your mother’s presence, of course.  I daresay I’d have been in deep trouble were I to refer to the queen as ‘Zelda One,’ especially as our history makes it quite clear that she was, at the very least, the two-thousand-and-twelfth.”  He grinned at her, his eyes crinkling.  “It turns out, as usual, my wife was right. The name Zelda suits you supremely.”

Zelda’s eyes had grown more watery than usual as he spoke.  “Thank you, father.”

He harumphed again.

When the song changed, he nodded to her and walked beside her to the floor’s edge, where a crowd had begun to build.  “I hope you shall enjoy yourself tonight, daughter.”

She thanked him again, and he headed toward one of his financial advisors.  Most likely, they had business to discuss.

Zelda stood quite perplexed, even lost, her usual context quite displaced.

“May I have this dance?” a voice said.

Zelda turned to find the court poet’s polite, yet warm smile directed at her.  She’d always liked him.  His company on several of her expeditions had been most welcome.  She returned his smile.  “Certainly, Zuho,” she said, placing her hand in the one he’d offered, his brows raising at her acceptance.

“Wonderful,” he said.

She’d danced with him once before, last year, and he’d been an obvious mess of nerves when she had, likely worried he’d make a mistake and embarrass himself in front of the Crown Princess of Hyrule.  When he’d spoken, it had been stilted and consisting of nothing but facts about the music scheduled for the evening (not that Zelda would complain—she liked to learn, whether it be about guardian remains or music).  The current experience differed in its entirety.  His smile remained warm and he spoke with her easily about a piece he’d been writing about the shrines they had visited.  Then the conversation turned to her.

“I am glad to see, Highness, that you appear in good spirits today,” he said.

“Oh.”  The sound of surprise escaped her.  Fortunately, she’d made it with Zuho, and not with some landowning bigot who would look down his nose at her for being a Hylian and not an automaton devoid of all emotion.  “Yes, well… tonight has been pleasant thus far.”

Zuho’s smile broadened.  His eyes flicked toward the solstice tree far across the room.  “I see.  Would that have something to do with losing your shadow?”

Zelda blinked, then followed his line of vision.

Her knight stood straight and stoic, expressionless, his eyes staring at the far wall with marked disinterest, directly in front of the (still growing) pile of gifts surrounding the tree.  He held his hands at his sides as though ready, at any moment, to draw that irksome sword of his.

It was the furthest he’d been from her outside her chambers in months.

Zelda turned back to Zuho, feeling more than a little pleased.  “I hadn’t thought of it specifically until now, but you may be right.”

Zuho grinned.

She danced with the castle’s steward next.  He’d always had a bit of a soft spot for her.  He spent a few minutes reminiscing on how she’d occasionally steal herself down to the castle kitchen, to the pantry, in search of fruitcake.

“As though the Princess of the realm couldn’t have it delivered to her chamber,” he chuckled.

Zelda grinned.  “I have always preferred to do things for myself.”

“Ha!  Including cutting the cake still sitting on its pantry shelf.”

“Indeed!  It was freshest that way.”

“It also meant you could cut quite a large slice.”

“It was more efficient than cutting two or three small slices.”

He laughed openly.  “Ah- Princess.  I must admit I miss those days.  I hope I shall live to see the next Princess in this castle.  Perhaps she, too, will have an extraordinary love of fruitcake.”

She laughed with him.

He bowed out as the dance ended, and Zelda found herself wandering toward the refreshments table, a pensive smile on her face, confused, at first, why that conversation had touched her so.  She ladled herself a generous portion of mulled meade and sipped it, the warmth slipping down her throat, coiling outward from her stomach to cradle her chest in the glow of comfort.  A child—a baby—that was it.  No one in this castle had spoken to her of such things—not ever.

A future.

Children.

Not the looming threat of the Calamity and her ability—or lack thereof—to defend Hyrule from it.

She breathed a puff of surprised air, rippling the surface of her drink.

Perhaps the friendly, calming nature of her first three dances had set the evening’s tone for everyone in the room.

Or perhaps her own demeanor had changed thanks to them.  She couldn’t be sure.

But her next dance partner had greeted her with a genuine smile, if a bit closed, and not a single veiled insult passed his lips.

This became true for the one which followed.

And the next.

And the next.

Until by her seventh dance, Zelda’s countenance had become truly merry.  She spoke freely and easily.  She and all her dance partners had steadfastly ignored politics in favor of all manner of other, more pleasant conversation.

The minister of agriculture raved about new recipes from an upstart chef in Lurelin who had made razorclaw crab a sudden sensation despite its rubbery flesh compared to its close crab relations’.  His detailed descriptions made her mouth water.

The general visiting from Akkala Citadel spoke of the extraordinary fall they’d had that year, of the leaves turning even more vibrant colors than usual, and of children making all manner of fun with them—leaf piles, leaf crafts, leaf imprints left on paper through rubbed charcoal—the mystery of his fascination with them solved when he revealed his own children’s construction of a leaf-crown for him which (he claimed) had left him with bits of dry leaves in his hair for three days.

Then Robbie had claimed her hand for the next dance.  She still enjoyed herself.  Mostly.  She would, perhaps, have felt more comfortable had he removed his goggles for the party.  The conversation, blessedly, turned to guardian parts and his pleasure at discovering those miniaturized cores to power handheld weapons.

“Oh-oh YE-AH!  I’m like the breeze of pure intellect through the tall grass… of ignorance!!!” Robbie declared.

Zelda very nearly managed not to laugh, but other dancers’ half-stifled giggles crept their way into her gut and she couldn’t help it.

“Laugh if you must.  Just KEEP dancing,” he said with a smirk.

At least she hadn’t insulted him.

A brief break afterward found her huddled at the punch bowl, even hotter and more alcoholic than the mulled meade had been, with Robbie, Purah, and Impa chattering about the Sheikah Slate.

“I can’t believe you took a picture of that, Princess,” Purah said with a snort.

“Why shouldn’t I commemorate important occasions, as you have?” Zelda said in self-defense.

“Commemorate whatever you want, but why take pictures of just empty space?  You should’ve had Link kneel and take the shot—OH!  Oh, no, Princess!  You should’ve gotten all the way back into blessing-pose, your hands, like—all the way up to the sky and your mouth like ahhhhh-“

“That’s not how the blessing-“

“Shush, I’m not done!”

Zelda shushed, somehow unphased despite her rank.

“Anyway, you should’ve been like you were blessing Link even though you were already done, and he should’ve been doing the kneeling thingie-“

“Genuflection,” Zelda offered.

“Yeah, that!  And you should’ve let Urbosa take the picture.  Snappity snap!”

“Urbosa didn’t know how-“

“So?!  It’s easy!  You could’ve showed her.”

“Mipha seemed more interested in the slate than she did,” Impa pointed out.

“Oh nooo,” Purah said with a sweeping gesture, somehow not spilling a single drop of her hot punch despite it being in her gesturing-hand.  “Nope.  Not Mipha.  That would’ve been awkward.”

Zelda’s brows furrowed.  “Why should it be awkward?”

Purah stared at her with an exaggeratedly-dropped jaw.  “Are you kidding?”

“Why should I be?”

“You didn’t notice-?“

The visiting trade minster from Labrynna chose that moment to interrupt, asking for her next dance.

It turned out to be a rather amusing ruse, she discovered, when he used the dance to ask her all manner of questions about the court poet.

“Forgive me, Princess, but as you’re the only person he’s danced with I’d rather wondered if I could prevail upon you to answer a few questions?”

“I don’t see why not,” she said.

“Is he married?” he said in a half-whisper.

“Is he…?  Oh.  Oh, no, he isn’t.” 

At the end of the song, he made a bee-line for Zuho and Zelda absently wondered whether he’d have any luck.  She’d no idea who the court poet did or didn’t fancy.

It reminded her of that earlier eyeline to her appointed knight.  She turned her gaze, once more, on the tree.

The Sun had set, and with it the room had grown less bright but warmer, hues of orange-gold spread by the glittering of brazier light filtered through those monumental ice sculptures on the balcony, many candles lit in candleholders painstakingly-placed in a wave-like pattern reminiscent of a southern wind, as though spurring all those paper birds northward to return home.  In aid of the usual sources of light in the room, they left the darkness with nowhere to shelter-

Nowhere except that tree.

Its green could barely be discerned in light of such warmth—without the sweet blues of sky in the windowpanes.  It loomed, near-black, towering by fifteen-fold over her knight, who hadn’t moved a millimeter in any direction.  She watched him, curious, waiting for any sign he yet lived, and hadn’t become a statue, a decoration along with all the other inanimate objects in the room.  He didn’t even blink.

She doubted he knew of her eyes upon him, so unwaveringly he stared straight out from his vantage before the prickling black.

Her chin raised.

Now she knew how to be rid of him.  Or at least, not dogged by his constant footsteps.

Perhaps she ought to request a ball each week.

She shook herself, ashamed, for a moment, at such a wasteful thought.

It was the first unpleasant moment she’d had since her father’s hands took hers.

It would be the chosen hero who would cause it.

Well, she needn’t allow it to continue.

She scanned the crowd, finding one of the many influential landowners from central Hyrule.  This one held nearly fifteen percent of all the land at gatepost town and had been of great help in housing the Sheikah excavating various sites on the Great Plateau.  She made her way toward him and began quite a pleasant conversation with fervent thanks for his assistance.

The celebration moved well into the night with a calm grace.  Zelda partook of another glass of punch, listening to Impa’s stories of children in Kakariko and how they spend solstice watching the town’s most skilled climber scale the tallest of those peaks surrounding the village and light a single torch atop it, a torch they would keep lit all until dawn in defiance of the year’s longest night.  Groups of them would run to the great fairy’s fountain and shower her with hand-made trinkets of polished stone; they’d wonder if she would wear them, and if they would ever see her to find out.  They’d give thanks for her water which never froze, and their parents would have to herd them back toward their beds—but they’d keep peeking, whenever they could, at that single lit torch, until the Sun finally rose and began its long climb toward summer.

The Rito had similar traditions—firing blazing arrows in the direction of the sunrise.  The Gorons preferred to spend the night basking in their hottest of hot springs.  The Zora lit their waterways from below with luminous stone, representing the light of the Sun reaching them even in the darkest night through the earth itself.  The Gerudo typically enjoyed the (relatively) cool day and kept the bazaar open all night.  Urbosa had told her of the tiny, flaring lights, like shards of fire-arrows for the children, magical embers, that the desert may never lose its heat.

Zelda wondered, not for the first time, what the Zonai would have done.  They knew so little of them, with their written history problematic at best.  She well knew history books were written by the victors.  Perhaps, someday, she would have the luxury to delve deeper into those questions, too.

“So, are you going to ask him to dance?” Impa said.

Zelda stared at her.  “Whom?”

Impa raised an eyebrow.  “Link.”

Zelda scoffed, smiling.  “I am not.”

“Really?”

“Truly.”

“Huh.”

“Why should this surprise you?”

“Well.  I mean.  I figured—since he hadn’t danced with anyone else-“

“Of course, he hasn’t.  He’s on duty.”

“He always seems like he’s on duty.”

“W- well…” She thought a moment, trying to envision a time she’d seen Link do something other than be on duty.

He ate food.  Quite a lot of it.

Or so she’d heard.

No- no, he’d eaten when they’d traveled together, of course.  He’d done so quickly and efficiently.  While still guarding her.  But that wasn’t quite on duty, was it?

Zelda shifted her feet.

When, precisely, was Link off-duty?

He’d dogged her every step since her father appointed him to her service.  A few paces behind her, always.  He left her at her door each night and she opened it to the familiar sight of his back each morning, his back adorned with the sword, its blue and gold hilt wrapped in green, and its opulent scabbard on immediate display in her vision.

What a thing to start her day to.

A few nights, she’d been sure he’d been practicing his forms on the bridge between her chamber and study, too.  Unless, of course, she’d been dreaming…

“Princess Zelda?” Impa asked, her voice less certain.  “Did I offend you?”

“Oh- oh no, Impa, of course not.  Why should you think so?”

“You just… I wasn’t suggesting anything.”

Zelda shook her head.  “Like what?”

Impa took another sip of her meade.  “Um.  Nothing in particular.”

Zelda had no idea what to make of that.

She spent a good deal more time in relaxed conversation throughout the room.  She danced with Zuho again and the captain of the garrison at Lake Hylia.  A string of dances found her eyes drawn, with each turn, toward the tree, the gifts about it now piled so high they stood taller than her appointed knight in most places.  He seemed to shrink with each glance, though he never moved.

It appeared as though the world had grown around him, leaving him in the great shadow of the tree.

Zelda nearly rolled her eyes at herself.

When, exactly, was Link off-duty?

The time must be nearing ten o’clock.  The dainty deserts had been served hours ago.  Link had joined her this morning at eight o’clock outside her door.  For her, this was merely her life—she was neither on nor off duty, precisely—but for him, he had been at work a minimum of 14 hours.  He’d eaten something quickly when she’d taken lunch.  That was all.

She tamped the groan which threatened to leave her at her inconvenient empathy.  Thus far, this had been a perfectly pleasant evening, despite all odds.  She’d ruin it for herself should she walk over there.  She knew what he’d do if she tried to dismiss him, to enjoy the remainder of the party as a guest and not… whatever this was.  It’s not as though other guards weren’t present.

She’d barely said a word to her dance partner.  She realized with a start the song had ended, and he seemed more than a little leery of her – then she realized she’d been squeezing his hand hard enough to leave a red mark.

“Oh—please, pardon me.  My- my shoes hurt.”

“Oh,” he said.  “How unpleasant for you, Princess.  Would you like to lean on me?  I can take you to a chair.”

She smiled at him a little bit—a son of the richest woman in Tabantha village, and quite young.  “Thank you, but I shan’t sit yet.”

He nodded, smiling awkwardly, and bowed out.

Zelda sighed, keeping her hands carefully un-fisted, as she moved in as stately a manner as possible toward her stock-still appointed knight.

He made no sign he knew of her approach until she’d left the dance floor, his eyes only then flicking in her direction for an instant.  They seemed a brighter blue than usual.  It threw her for a moment—in this deeply red, orange, and gold light, his eyes ought to have dulled according to predictable reflective and absorptive properties of materials in certain light.  She cleared her throat, finding it odd, even to her, that she’d suddenly considered her knight’s irises a ‘material’ rather like she’d evaluate properties of guardian parts and various types of ancient Sheikah stone.

She reached him, standing before him and slightly to his left.  He continued staring at whatever point in the distance he’d decided to fixate on for the past seven hours.

Zelda took a deep breath.  “Sir Link.  You have remained in this precise position since we arrived.  There’s no need.  You are dismissed.”

He blinked.

She shifted her feet.  “Please, join the party.  There are quite a few guards about.  You needn’t remain on duty.”

His eyes moved at that, though not toward her.  They flickered minutely, barely a fraction from that point he’d been so focused upon, as if searching for something near it.

Irritation sparked within her ribcage.  He never spoke, but why would he not even look at her?

“Knight,” she said, her tone stern, but stopped herself short at the tiniest change of expression on his face.

He’d flinched.

Hadn’t he?

Zelda’s lips parted as she squinted at him, wondering if she’d imagined it.

She took in his form once more, begrudgingly impressed he could remain so still for so long without shifting his weight.

He ought to at least move about a bit.

With that thought came Impa’s phantom words in her ear: So, are you going to ask him to dance?

She nearly rolled her eyes at herself again. 

She’d lost her shadow for the evening… mostly.  Why would she request its return?  It would be foolish.

She studied him, realizing while he was certainly broader than she, more muscular, his height would hardly be different—rather like the young man she’d just danced with.  So young.

He might not even know how to dance.

His size would be an advantage there, she supposed.  It would be easier for her to lead in a clandestine manner without leaning back to drag him along.

He really oughtn’t continue to stand there.  Zelda could imagine what stories would be spun when the warmth and the drink had faded, and the morrow came in cold, stark reality—when people’s voices became spiteful again.  They’d say she treated her knight poorly, wouldn’t they?

Yes.  That was an excellent reason to stop his pointless vigil.  She felt vindicated.

“Knight,” she said, “if you shall not move on your own, I shall instead request you dance the next with me.”  She held her hands clasped before her, waiting.

His eyes finally, finally, dragged their way toward hers.  The journey seemed torturous.  Perhaps he’d been still too long.  Perhaps moving something as delicate as eyes required a good deal more concentration after such a long, unbroken stare.

As he found her line of vision, that impression struck, once again, of his blues seeming oddly bright.  They matched his tunic, didn’t they?  The tunic had darkened more.  Something about them left her breathless, her brows drawing together, drawing deep.

Her knight nodded slowly—not the curt nod he usually used.  Perhaps he felt stiff.

Zelda’s stomach fluttered.  He hadn’t offered his hand.  She pointedly looked at it, then joined her eyes to his once more.

He got the message.

His hand rose in a fluid motion, in exactly the position it should have been were he to ask her to dance.

A little relieved, she took it and placed her hand on his shoulder as proper-

And gasped.

What was that?

A shuddering, pulsating- what?  Beneath her hand on his shoulder.

She stared at him, breathing fast, uncertain.  “Sir Link,” she whispered.  “Are you well?”

There it was again—that lengthy nod.

She didn’t believe him.

Was that-

Was that-

His heart?

Could she feel it even at the opposite shoulder?  How violently must it be beating for it to be so?

A voice in her head told her quite plainly she oughtn’t switch hands to find out.  People would notice if she suddenly decided to dance backwards.

She did it anyway, removing her left hand…

…and placing the right one above his heart.

Thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthump.

She winced, her mouth drawing into an open frown.

His expression remained unchanged.

Thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthump.

“Sir- sir Link.  Are you well?!”

That nod again.

That slow nod, and those… bright eyes.

She hardly knew what she was doing.  Her body moved on its own, following some instinctual directive, her thoughts far, far behind it as she took his hand and led him around the tree, closer to the windows, away from the light and the eyes around them.  She’d thought to speak with him outside, but she realized with another shot of irritation several groups of people had gathered out there, admiring the sculptures and the now-brightening moonlight.

So, she did the only thing she could to hide them completely.  She turned, pulling him between the tree and the outer wall—and pushed him inside, both hands on his chest.

The tree’s limbs had grown thick, but on this side the gifts were absent, making it easier to force their way in, branches and needles tugging at their hair, their clothing, and Zelda’s skirt, especially.  She paid it no mind, traipsing through it just as she would an irritating growth of bushes surrounding a shrine.  Once buried deep in the relative darkness, she released him, finding his eyes once more.

“You are unwell,” she said, focusing on that brightness, on whether it was what she’d thought, but it couldn’t be, because this was her utterly statuesque appointed knight.

He made no answer.  A swallow worked its way down his throat.                                                 

“Sir Link.  Your- your heart.  It is hammering unaccountably.”  She raised her eyebrows, pointedly ensnaring his eyes with her own.  “Have you taken ill with a fever?”

That seemed to startle him.  He shook his head.

She took a deep breath, then gingerly returned her hand to his chest—this time directly above his heart.

THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP

Either his heart’s palpitations had become even more violent, or her proximity to his heart beneath his ribs made the raw severity of his condition apparent.  She knew little of medicine, but she knew enough to understand a Hylian heart shouldn’t beat so fast.  This—this was the heart of a terrified fox near the end of the hunt, ragged and desperate-

Certain of death.

She stared at her own hand, feeling the hidden heart of her shadow.

She breathed.

Had it always been like this?

Had he followed her all this time… treading in her wake… with this terror ever-beating in his chest?

She finally found his eyes again.

They were shimmering.

She nearly asked him.

So nearly.

But she knew—she knew he would remain silent.  Why wouldn’t he?  She’d… never been particularly kind to him, had she?  She never turned around to check on her shadow—to see if he was well.

Gingerly—with immense care—she raised her hands to either side of his face, approaching at a pace so languid he could stop her should he truly wish to.

Her right hand touched his cheek first, and his lips parted, sound finally issuing from his disused throat.

“N- don’t-“ he said.

Her left hand touched his cheek, and at that instant, liquid pooled, overflowing, streaking down that cheek; he turned that side of his face from her in swift shame, eyes shut.

“No- no, S-… Link…” Zelda said, brushing that tear from his cheek with all four of those fingers which had been at his cheekbone, her thumb hovering, uncertain, near his mouth.  “Link…”

The eyelid still visible to her quivered, holding back whatever pain had collected there, but she wouldn’t allow it.  Now she knew he’d been hiding such poisonous emotion, she couldn’t let him turn back in.

She brushed that cheek with her thumb, so gently, traced his cheekbone with it.

“It’s alright,” she whispered.

His face changed.

She’d seen anguish before.  She’d seen it in her father after her mother’s passing.

She’d never seen it in someone as young as her.

His mouth opened and twisted down, water springing from the eye he’d attempted to seal shut, deep creases appearing between his eyebrows.

Her thumb swept the first tears away as her lips quivered.  Some part of Zelda’s core knew, as she drew him against her, as she pressed his weeping eyes to her shoulder, nestling him in the crook of her neck, where her body had learned how to comfort another.  It had been so long ago, her mind had forgotten—but her muscles remembered.  They knew how her mother had held her, so long ago, when she’d been filled with sorrow.  When her grandmother had died.

He heaved and shuddered against her, his tears soaking into her dress’ neckline.  He wept silently but for his breath.  Zelda sensed his hands’ uncertain hovering, and she took hold of first one, then the other, placing them at her back before returning her hands to him, stroking his hair and encircling his shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.  “I’m so sorry, Link.”  She nearly asked him not to hide it from her, but her sinking thoughts churned a realization from deep within.  He hadn’t hidden from her.  Not really.  He’d followed her every step.  She simply hadn’t turned around.

She’d even yelled at him.  Told him to stop.

The truth had been there for her to see, had she tried.

“How alone have you felt, Link?” Zelda asked.

A whimper escaped him, quickly tamped.  He shuddered.

Her own tears began to fall.

“I-“ he said.

Zelda gasped.

She waited.

He shivered, holding her harder, but with nowhere near his knight’s-strength.

“Don’t hold back,” she whispered.

With a quiet, high-pitched sound, he pressed her to him, tightening slowly, as though waiting for her to cry out in pain or to push him away.

She didn’t.  They soon held each other in vice-grips, the beatings of their hearts speaking directly to each other.

Zelda’s heart lead Link’s on a gentle downslope toward calm.  It took time—eyes leaking, hands twitching, spreading reassurance with splayed fingers.

She thought he’d forgotten her question.

His pressure on her back released, though he still held her.  His face remained stained, streaked and mottled, but he’d spent the tears themselves.  His mouth worked.  He wet his lips.

“I know you feel alone, too,” he said.

She pulled her head back to take in his face.  She brushed tear-matted hair from it.  She bit her lip.  “Perhaps neither of us is alone anymore,” she said, her smile as warm as the light of the Goddess herself.

His gaze lingered soft on her smile.  He pushed her hair back over her shoulder.  “I messed up your hair.”

She laughed.  “It hardly matters.”

And for the very first time, she saw Link smile.  The corners of his mouth turned up.  His teeth suited him, framed in his face like that.  “I guess.”

The music beyond the tree had been soft quite some time—the tail end of the evening heralded by gentle dances and seated conversation.  Link twitched an ear toward the band.  “I’m sorry.  I ruined the end of it for you.”

“Nonsense,” Zelda said.  “I had a pleasanter evening than I’d expected.”

“I noticed,” he said.

“Truly?  You appeared as though watching the wall.”

“I just try not to stare at you.”

Zelda swallowed, a sudden fluttering of her heart.  Thoughts for another time, perhaps.  “You, Sir Link, have had a terrible evening indeed—and a terrible few months—haven’t you?”

His lips curled in, one shoulder raised in nonchalant agreement.

She huffed an empathetic laugh.

She thought of the room full of light, of his standing apart.  Of his loneliness.

What would he do were she to return to her chamber to turn in for the night?  Would he practice forms on her bridge?  Would he try and fail to sleep in his bed?  Would he stand with his back to her door until she greeted him next morning?

How could she make this the beginning of a new, less lonely reality for him?

She heard the clack of heavy ceramic as servants cleared some used dishes at a nearby table.

She took Link’s hand.

---

They soon found themselves out in the snow, Zelda’s thick gown bolstered by petticoats and her snowquill boots and coat, Link wearing a thickly padded doublet over his Champion’s tunic as they carried baskets of fresh-baked bread down the hill toward the second gatehouse.

“This is a good idea, Princess,” Link said.

“I’m glad.  I… used to do this every year,” she said with a soft smile.  She felt his eyes on her, though she had to watch the snowy path at her feet.

“Why did you stop?” he asked.

She sighed, carefully avoiding a patch which appeared tamped toward flat and slippery.  “With so much at stake…”

She faltered.

“… And so many eyes on you?” Link asked.

“Oh,” she breathed, wobbling slightly as a foot slipped, but Link caught her elbow, his basket perfectly balanced on one arm.

She studied his face.

“Yes,” she said.  Her feet moved again after a few breaths—after she saw another group of bread-carriers behind them.  “I feel as though I’m seeing ghosts.  As though they’re already… mid-recrimination for the end to come.  I think many of them are.”

Link breathed a long stream of air out his nose.  “…I’ve seen it, too.”

They kept glancing at each other, breathing clouds silvered by moonlight.

He kept hold of her elbow all the way to the trestle tables, where they relieved two surprised, weary-looking maids with noses red from cold.

“Please call it a night.  We shall take it from here,” Zelda said.

“B- but-”

“Princess?”

“Please.  I insist.”  She held out her hand to take the ladle from the woman nearest her.

The women retreated with tentative smiles and multiple thank-yous, trudging toward the castle with cheerful chatter.

The game-fowl and vegetable stew in the cauldron before Zelda smelled spectacular.  They ladled that and distributed hot cider, moisture from the steaming sustenance siphoned by winter’s chill mingling with all that radiance.

Zelda put up a brave smile, her defense against the front of the line as it wafted past her, a slow shuffle of hands holding wooden bowls and cups, mild disturbances of air, speech as they asked after each other’s well-being—as they answered things like, ‘Yes, he’s over the cold - see?  He’s just there’ - ‘The shop is shut for the week, but we’ll make do’ - ‘She has another little one on the way, poor thing.’

Zelda filled their dishes to the brim, focused on her work, saying, “You’re welcome” and “Happy Solstice” at the proper times.

Link, beside her, loosed a chuckle.  It drew her eyes.

A bedraggled man had wrangled four children in a pristine demonstration of controlled chaos. Not a single small foot nor tiny finger protruded four feet from him, yet within that space entropy, it seemed, would have its pound of flesh.  The youngest rode on her father’s shoulders, giggling and kicking her thinly-shoed feet, while a boy nearly as small clung to one weary leg, receiving what appeared to be a rather enjoyable ride on the man’s boot.

“Your butt’s all wet from the snO-oh,” an older brother said with a snort and a poke to the boy’s shoulder.

“Mine’s not!” declared the shouldered sister, her hands pulling rather hard at the man’s hair.

The boot-rider studiously ignored the teasing in favor of wiggling a finger disturbingly far up his own nostril and depositing its findings on the man’s pants.

(The man rolled his eyes).

“Gross,” said the oldest boy, pushing boot-rider’s shoulder with enough force to wobble him.

“No pushing,” the man said.

“He just snotted you!”

“Yeahhh, I know.”

“Did not!” said boot-rider.

No one bothered to correct him.

They reached Link with five cups and five bowls to fill, and while Zelda attempted to formulate some manner of plan, the children’s excitement over cider made itself known.

“CIDER!” “Can we have some, please?” “HELLO!” “Are you a grown-up?”

That last had been directed at Link.

“Heh.  Yeah, I’m a grown-up,” Link said.  “Should I…?”

The man nodded a weary head that sent his daughter’s arms bobbing with it.  She giggled madly.

Link gave his signature curt nod—which, Zelda reflected, appeared far less irritating with him smiling like that—and began ladeling the hot cider into the cups.

“The stuff’s hot, kids,” he warned, apparently unwilling to fill the cups fully.

This did not please the little ones, who complained of his unfairness.

Link’s eyes spoke so clearly.  Help.

Zelda drew herself tall (as tall as a relatively diminutive woman could).  “Children,” she said.

Her voice cut clear, though kind, through their independent, melodramatic little monologues.

They all looked at her, silent.

She smiled.  It was hard not to.  “Sir Link doesn’t wish you to spill and burn yourselves.”

“But we won’t get as much,” said shoulder-poker.

“I shall be sure to personally refill your cups once you’ve finished what you have.”

They liked that idea.

Link, however, seemed stuck, staring at the little girl at the top, with her cup of hot cider.

“You’re gonna be careful with that, right?” Link asked.

She giggled.

His eyes widened.

The man smiled for the first time.  “She’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, it’s more your face I’m worried about,” Link said.

The man chuckled openly.  “So, you’re Sir Link, huh?”

Link paled a little, his smile starting to fade back into that blank look he’d worn in front of that dark evergreen.

The man saw it.

Even Zelda could tell he recognized it.

A father would see it.

Zelda’s own father, considering her knight’s countenance behind her, outside her field of vision, before treating Zelda so kindly at the ball.

Zelda blinked slowly.  Her father had seen it.

“Nice to meet you,” the man said, his smile kind.

Link tried to return it.

Zelda ladled soup into the children’s bowls, directing them to sit nearby so she could keep an eye on their cider levels.  She very nearly handed the little girl her soup-bowl above her father’s head, deciding at the last moment to abandon that idea as unwise indeed.

“I shall walk you to your seat-”

The girl kicked a leg out quite suddenly, tipping the bowl toward Zelda’s face-

-and Link caught it and most of its spilled contents in a clean bowl.

His wide eyes found hers.

“...Thank you, Sir Knight,” she said.

The family passed with relatively few clothing stains, all considered.  Zelda had gotten the worst of it with stew on her white sleeves.

“Sorry I didn’t catch it all, Princess,” Link said.

“Oh- goodness,” she laughed. “It’s of no importance whatsoever.”

His return to silence made her eyes seek him.  She found him smiling at her—a very different sort of smile from before.

The line moved past them with growing smiles and fervent thank-yous, the voices echoing in the tall chamber sounding every bit as warm as the food. It became quite pleasant, all the faces, and at some point Zelda realized quite a few of them had begun wishing her well.  She considered the source of change, wondering and wondering, until she sought out Link, thinking to ask him, and he met her eyes again.

And she’d found it.

Eyes.

She herself had ceased to watch cups, bowls and hands.

She wasn’t sure how it had happened.

---

They returned, tired, well past the light of dawn, among the others, Link carrying one of the massive stew cauldrons while the others required at least two men to bear their weight.  Zelda had volunteered to carry one, but Link had smiled at her and piled her arms high with empty baskets instead.  She had to peek around them to walk, but she couldn’t stop grinning at the sparkling snow and at her Knight, also renewed in the light—walking astride her rather than behind.  She found she much preferred it that way.

“Are you really alright with that, Sir?” one of the maids asked, her crate full of empty dishes rattling as she walked.

“Heh.  Yeah,” Link said.

“You must be so strong,” another remarked.

Link’s smile wavered just enough to be seen.

“He is,” Zelda said.  “Extremely.”

He turned that smile her way.  It said the same thing hers did.

He wasn’t sure.

They might lose.

He might not be strong enough.

She might be powerless.

But they knew something this morning they hadn’t known last night.

They were not alone.

~~❄~~❄~~❄~~❄~~❄~~❄~~

Happy Holidays, Everyone!

#botw #botw au #Midna's Merry Mixup #zelda #loz #loz fanfic #gift #gift fic #winter solstice #solstice celebration #emotional hurt/comfort #fluff #ballroom #some humor

[synonym-for-cinnamon]

Happy soon-to-be solstice for my fellow celebrators! May the spirits of the first new year be with you!

#winter solstice #winter holidays #solstice celebration #solstice #yuletide #happy yule #yule

[rabbitlover1027]

Solstice Celebration

"Then we will look forward to seeing both of you in Summer six months from now."

Rhysand wrapped his arm around my waist. Normally, I would melt back against him, but saying farewell to Tarquin and Cresseida at my formal birthday celebration thrown by my mate, it was best to stay in full High Lady mode. I stood tall and thanked them both for coming. Tarquin had made a show of stating only he and Cresseida were leaving, which was no doubt a relief to Varian. Now he could turn his full attention to Amren.

I kissed them both good-bye on their cheek and watched them leave. The party hall Rhys had rented in the middle of the Rainbow was almost empty. Staff was already cleaning off tables. Rhysand had made the celebration a luncheon so that we could all be home and together by evening. High Lords, or an emissary, from each court had attended along with many Velaris residents. Rhysand had covered his surprise better than I when a tanned blonde male had arrived, sending regards from the Spring Court. He had not stayed to eat. It was good though. A sign Tamlin was rebuilding his court and hopefully had some interest in being cordial.

"I can't wait to get you home and give you your presents," Rhysand murmured in my ear.

I gave him a wicked grin.

"Thank you. Truly. I didn’t need a party, but this was nice."

His violet eyes sparkled. "Did you enjoy it?"

Before I could answer, the door to the hall opened. Two red heads and dark haired man entered. My heart rose slightly. I had been a little disappointed Lucien hadn't come. Better late than never.

Jurian’s eyes scanned the hall, taking in all that was left of the party, ever the general. Vassa stood, head high, and seemed to spread out into the spaces around her. I wished again that I could figure out how to break the spell cursed upon her. Rhys sensed my discomfort and rubbed his hand up my back.

"You're doing your best," he whispered.

I flashed him a grateful look before stepping towards our new guests. Vassa said something quiet to Lucien that caused him to roll his eyes. I saw the corner of her mouth tick up ever so slightly, entertained. He turned his head and looked straight to me, no search for his mate. My heart ached. I wished Lucien and my sister could find some resolution. I shook my hair back and headed his way as he headed mine.

Lucien held out a hand, but I wrapped my arms around his neck, my fingers sliding past his long hair. He squeezed me close, placing a soft kiss on my cheek.

"Happy Birthday, Feyre," he nodded a greeting at Rhys. My mate smiled at him. We turned to greet the remaining members of Lucien’s Band of Exiles.

Jurian bowed, and I felt Rhys tighten. It was never easy to tell if Jurian was mocking you or not. I decided to curtsy back to him and Vassa to diffuse the situation before it could start. She extended a hand and when I put mine in hers, she squeezed it.

"We were so happy for the invitation, Feyre Cursebreaker. We have many things to do today, but we wished to stop by and wish you a happy day," the words rolled off her tongue in a way that made me wish she had more to say.

She handed me a small box, wrapped in glossy, navy paper. I gave her a questioning look and she smiled. Looking first to Lucien and Jurian and finding no objections, I slipped my thumb under the edge of the paper and tore it open. A small white box opened to reveal two gorgeous earrings, deep blue flecked with white. Like a night sky.

I pressed a hand to my chest.

"They're gorgeous. Thank you."

Vassa smiled. "They're called sandstone. We hope you enjoy them."

She leaned forward and gave me a warm hug. An obvious good-bye. Jurian threw a thin lipped grin to my mate. I turned to Lucien.

"I'm happy you stopped by," I said to him. I meant it too.

"Good-bye, Feyre. We have some things planned for this evening. I'm sorry I won't be joining you," his mouth tightened. "I hope you have an enjoyable Solstice. Perhaps I can join you another time."

I understood. He'd told me. It was too much. It didn't mean I liked it, for him or for my sister. Once again, I wondered why they'd been made mates. I kept my face neutral.

"Of course," I replied.

I watched them turn and head for the door. I wondered what strength it took for him to come here time and again and leave unacknowledged by his mate. It hadn't escaped me that for once, he had brought no Solstice gift for her. I hadn't seen him look for her once. Perhaps he was giving up.

They were almost to the door when Elain appeared by my side, Nyx on her hip. She'd entertained him most of the party so Rhysand and I could mingle with guests.

"Feyre, would you take him, please?" she handed my son to me. He reached for me with warm, sticky fingers. I'd never known love could feel like this until Rhys and I had been blessed with Nyx. I took my son and kissed all over his face. I twisted into Rhys's arms, as he kissed both of us on the top of our heads. My family, perfect.

It was the way Rhys's body jolted, small enough I could only feel it, I would have never seen it, which caused me to look up. He was staring, a look of disbelief crossed his face before he turned to look at the table where Nesta and Cassian sat with Azriel and the rest of the Valkyries who had left the library to attend today. I turned my head to see what had surprised him.

Elain had followed the Exiles. Had stopped them. My eyes widened and I also looked to see if Nesta was watching. Nesta was. In fact, Nesta was openly staring. I guess Elain was shocking us all.

Before, as a human, they would have been too far away for me to hear. Now, as a fae, it was unavoidable. I couldn't have even pretended not to listen, as Elain’s voice spread softly through the room, clear and song like.

"Lord Lucien."

He faltered, froze momentarily, and then bowed to her.

"My Lady, please. Lord is the name for males of status. I'm currently far from any such thing. Lucien will suffice."

My sister bit her lip uncomfortably.

"You didn't respond to my sister's invitation to join us tonight for Solstice."

Jurian and Vassa traded a look before stepping closer to each other and farther away from my sister. Lucien paid no notice.

"No, my Lady," he swallowed. "You will not see me at Solstice this evening."

He bowed to her and stepped back. Pain not present when he spoke to me etched his face. He started to turn to Vassa and Jurian. Vassa even held out her hand. I wasn't sure if I should be grateful Lucien had her for support or if I should hate her for her clear disdain of my sister's interference of their leaving.

"Lucien," my sister choked on his name. "I brought this, in case you came to the party. It's for you."

She pulled a small satchel from pocket and handed it to him. The satchel was forest green with orange strings. He took it, his eyes searching her face. She gave no answers. Lucien pulled the strings loose and reached in, pulling out several long, thin strips of leather. He twisted them in his hand, threading them through his fingers. He stared at the gift from my sister.

I found it hard to breathe watching them, the sharp unspoken hurts bouncing inbetween them.

She frowned, "To tie your hair back. If you want. It falls in your face sometimes," her face was turning pink. She looked past him to where Jurian and Vassa looked on. She held Jurian's eye for only a moment and then curtsied deep to Vassa. She rose and turned towards Lucien, not meeting his astonished gaze. "Happy Solstice, Lor-, Lucien."

And then she left. She walked off, not to Nesta's table, but back towards the kitchen where Nuala and Ceridwen were getting ready to leave no doubt. Lucien stood oblivious to most of the room staring, watching as she left until Vassa gently pressed her hand to his back and whispered in his ear too softly for me to hear. Jurian threw a last look at all of us, and they slipped out the door. I looked back to Rhys and he shook his head, a suggestion to stay out of it. He left my side to go sit beside Azriel, who glared openly at my mate. I watched as they began talking, looking as though they were disagreeing about something and wondered if I could sneak into Rhys's mind to see what they were saying to each other. But then Nyx pouted for a snack, so I allowed myself the space to not think about my sister and her mate, nor mine and his dear friend. I pushed all worries aside to take care of the need that I could, and plucked a sliver of cheese off a tray for my son, savoring his pleased smile.

#like do i put this under elucien or under Feyre? #i finished it at 11:58 my time #so it was still solstice #but i cant post that fast #acotar ships #acotar #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #elucien #nessian #a court of thorns and roses #cassian #nesta archeron #acotar fanfic #Solstice celebration #birthday girl #i didnt edit well #maybe in the morning

[harmonyhealinghub]

The Winter Solstice: Embracing the Darkest Day of the Year Shaina Tranquilino December 23, 2023

As winter settles in and daylight diminishes, we reach a pivotal moment known as the winter solstice. This astronomical event marks the shortest day and longest night of the year in the Northern Hemisphere. It is a time when nature seems to hold its breath, and we find ourselves drawn inward, seeking warmth, reflection, and renewal.

Historically, cultures across the globe have celebrated this celestial occurrence with diverse rituals and traditions. From ancient stone structures aligned with the solstice sunrise to festivals honoring the rebirth of light, societies have recognized the significance of this turning point in our planet's journey around the sun.

For many, however, modern life has disconnected us from these age-old practices and left us unaware of the profound symbolism behind this celestial dance. Yet, by understanding and embracing the winter solstice, we can tap into its transformative power and find meaning amidst the darkness.

At its core, the winter solstice represents a metaphorical death followed by rebirth. As nature withdraws into dormancy during this cold season, it reminds us of our own need for rest and introspection. The long nights offer an opportunity to turn inward, evaluate our lives' paths, release what no longer serves us, and envision new beginnings.

In Scandinavian countries like Sweden and Norway, people celebrate St. Lucia's Day on December 13th as a precursor to the winter solstice festivities. Young girls dress in white robes with candles adorning their heads to symbolize bringing light into darkness – a beautiful reminder that even in our darkest moments, there is always hope.

Another tradition associated with the winter solstice is Yule. Derived from Norse mythology, Yule celebrates the return of light after a period of prolonged darkness. People kindle bonfires or light candles to honor this triumph over gloominess while feasting together and exchanging gifts as symbols of goodwill and unity.

Additionally, the winter solstice holds profound significance in Indigenous cultures. The Hopi tribe, for instance, celebrates Soyal, a ceremony that marks the beginning of their new year. Through rituals, prayers, and dances, they welcome the sun's return and offer gratitude for another cycle of life.

For those seeking personal reflection during this time, creating your own winter solstice ritual can be a powerful way to connect with nature's rhythms. Light candles or a bonfire to symbolize the returning light and write down intentions for personal growth and transformation. Meditate on what you want to release from your life and visualize the seeds of new beginnings taking root within you.

Moreover, spending time outdoors on the day of the winter solstice can deepen our connection to nature's cycles. Take a walk in a forest or near water bodies – places where stillness reigns supreme even amidst chaos. Observe how animals adapt to the changing season and find inspiration in their resilience.

As we celebrate the winter solstice together, let us acknowledge that darkness is not something to fear but rather an integral part of our existence. It is from these moments of darkness that we can cultivate strength, wisdom, and appreciation for the light that will inevitably return.

So as we gather around warm hearths with loved ones or bask in solitude by candlelight on this darkest day of the year, may we embrace the quietude it offers us. Let us honour our past experiences while kindling hope for a brighter future ahead.

In this dance between dark and light lies an opportunity for transformation – an invitation to grow despite adversity. And just as ancient civilizations celebrated this celestial event thousands of years ago, may we too find solace and renewal in its timeless magic.

Dear Divine Spirit,

On this joyous day of the winter solstice, we gather together to celebrate the return of light and the blessings of this season. We give thanks for the beauty that surrounds us, and for the love and warmth in our hearts.

As the longest night passes and daylight begins to grow, we are reminded of the infinite cycle of life. May this solstice be a time of renewal and rebirth for all beings on Earth. May it bring hope, peace, and abundance into our lives.

We pray for harmony among nations and unity among humanity. May compassion fill our hearts, and may we extend a helping hand to those in need. Let kindness be our guiding principle as we navigate through challenges and embrace opportunities for growth.

In this sacred moment, we express gratitude for Mother Nature's gifts. The sparkling snowflakes, crisp air, and cozy fireside gatherings remind us of the wonders that surround us. May we cherish these simple pleasures and find joy in every passing day.

On this winter solstice, we also remember all those who have passed from this world. We honour their memory by living fully and embracing each precious moment with love and gratitude.

May this solstice inspire us to seek inner wisdom and guidance. May it illuminate our path towards personal transformation, healing, and self-discovery. Let us release any burdens or negative energies that no longer serve us, allowing space for new beginnings.

Finally, dear Spirit, we offer our heartfelt appreciation for your divine presence in our lives. Thank you for guiding us through darkness towards light, offering solace during challenging times while reminding us of the eternal cycle of nature.

Blessed be on this winter solstice! May its radiant energy fill our hearts with happiness, love, and renewed hope for a bright future ahead.

Amen.

#winter #winter solstice #yule #December #longest night of the year #longest night magic #celestial shift #embrace the darkness #solstice celebration #nature rhythms #winter wonderland #reflect renew rejoice #seasonal transition #cosmic harmony

[taratarotgreene]

Solstice Blessings and Tarot Card reading Guidance

I hope you had a lovely Solstice Celebration. on June 21, I offered live Tarot Cards and some astrology previews for the next 3 months on Meta for the Cosmic Intelligence Agency Watch it now, https://www.facebook.com/cosmic.intelligenceagency/videos/1315793989357518/ I have a SUMMER/Winter solstice reading special, so you can take advantage of the Divine Timing of this power gateway. Buy Now…

View On WordPress

#Astrology and tarot with Tara Greene #Astrology psychic Tarot card reader Tara Greene #corporate astrology Tarot consultant Tara Greene #Cosmic INtelligence Agency Agent 129 Tara Greene #fortuen tellers for parties #psychic spiritual consultant Tara Greene Toronto #Psychic Talent Agency for parties and events #solstice celebration #Summer Tarot readings #Tara Greene Canada&039;s best tarot reader astrologer psychic #tarot readers for corporate events #Toronto psychic astrology tarot for all parties and events

[fruitdaze]

can’t stop thinking about wwx buying a two-person snuggie for lwj as a joke but lwj unironically likes it and starts looking forward to getting home from work and smushing up against his husband in their little blanket cocoon... lwj never actually says anything about it, but every night he’ll sit on the sofa and slide into his half of the snuggie. what else is wwx supposed to do?? NOT cuddle??? it’s a TWO-PERSON snuggie. leaving lan zhan all by himself just doesn’t make any sense

#happy winter solstice! crossposting my snuggie tweet to celebrate #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #rtxt

[wyrmspade]

Joyous Solstice! 🌞🌿❄

#winter solstice #yuletide #artists on tumblr #clip studio paint #digital art #digital painting #pagan #irish reconstructionist #celtic reconstructionist #artwork #happy solstice friends!!!! the light returns #feeling very bunny lately. so some bunnies celebrating the season :) #rabbit #bunny

[geopsych]

Happy solstice to everyone, southern or northern hemisphere! That’s my Madagascar palm hosting a little Stonehenge in honor of the holiday. Meanwhile at the real Stonehenge and at Avebury festivities have begun.

#solstice #stonehenge #june #the sun is worth celebrating #summer solstice

[piscesseer]

Honor the Sun: Summer Solstice ☀️

As the warm rays of the sun envelope us, we find ourselves at the Summer Solstice, also known as Litha or Midsummer. This holiday celebrates the sun’s power. 

Summer Solstice is observed on June 21, 2023. This is the longest day of the year, and the shortest night. Litha is about the power of the sun. Before we welcome the dark side of the year, we acknowledge the peak of the solar year. 

Many see Litha as a time of balance between light and dark, masculine and feminine energies, and our realm and the other. It’s a time to connect with nature, and enjoy the company of others.

The sun is shining the brightest on this day, symbolizing the peak of light and the triumph of the sun over darkness. The warmth of the sun gives us a sense of renewed strength and inspiration. It’s a reminder to embrace the abundance of beauty and nature surrounding us.

The Anglo-Saxons brought Litha with them to the British Isles when they settled in the 5th and 6th centuries. The Celts celebrated Litha, with the planting season just passing and wanting to call in a great harvest. It was essential to appease the solar Gods in some way. They would have hilltop bonfires and dancing. Many people would jump over the bonfires for good luck.

Many cultures have honored Gods and Goddesses of the Sun. These deities can be worshiped during Litha.

Some traditions believe in the battle of light and dark, where the Oak King and Holly King fight for control. During each Solstice, they battle for power and the balance shifts. The Oak King, who represents daylight, rules from the Winter Solstice to Litha. During this time, the day steadily gets longer. During Litha, when the Holly King wins, the days get darker until Yule.

Litha Correspondences:

Key Words: Warmth, Manifestation, Love, Light, Fertility, Unity, Success, Strength

Symbols: Sun, Flowers, Trees, Mushrooms, Honey, Bees

Herbs & Plants: Chamomile, Lavender, St. John’s Wort, Rosemary, Sunflowers, Daisy, Oranges

Colors: Gold, Green, Light Blue, Orange, Pink

Animals: Bees, Cows, Horses, Dragonfly, Songbirds

How to Celebrate Litha:

For most modern-day Pagans, Litha is a day of inner power and brightness. Fire rituals and barbecues are a common way to celebrate. This holiday celebrates Earth’s abundance and personal power. 

Decorate the House and your altar. Adorn your altar with symbols of the sun, flowers, herbs and items that represent Litha. Some ideas: gold objects or coins, yellow and white flowers, lavender, circular items, symbols of the sun, seasonal flowers, fruits or crops (strawberries, sunflowers), citrus fruits.

Gather loved ones for a Litha feast, abundant with seasonal fruits, vegetables and herbs. Having a summer barbecue counts! Savor the flavors of the Earth’s bounty and share in the joy of community. As you dine, express gratitude to the land for the nourishment.

Kindling a bonfire is a time-honored tradition of Litha. Traditionally, people stayed up all night on Midsummer’s Eve to welcome and watch the sunrises. Bonfires were lit on tops of hills and at sacred places to honor the Sun. A bonfire represents the Sun at the peak of its strength. People danced and leaped around them. Coals from the Midsummer fire were scattered on the fields to ensure good harvest. Today, you can gather friends and family to hold a Midsummer Night’s Fire Ritual. Celebrate the season with a big bonfire and form a circle around the dancing flames. As the fire crackles, offer gratitude for the sun’s life-giving energy. Release any burdens of negativity into the fire, allowing the power of flames to cleanse or renew your spirit. In addition, you can write these things down and burn them in the fire to symbolically let go of what is no longer serving you.

If you prefer spending your time alone this Summer Solstice, there are plenty of small ways you can celebrate.

Craft a beautiful flower crown using vibrant blossoms or herbs that correlate to the holiday. Wear it as a symbol of your connection to nature.

Take a stroll through a blooming garden, a lush forest, or a sunkissed meadow. Listen to the melody of a birdsong, breathe in the fresh air, and take in the majesty of nature. Allow yourself to be in the present moment, embracing the interconnectedness of all beings. Gather flowers, herbs, or stones that resonate with you to use in rituals or as decoration.

Meditate about the light and dark forces in the world or in yourself. Find ways that you can bring more lightness into your life and get in touch with the joyful parts of life. Journal, do yoga, practice self-care or take a walk. Stargazing is another way to reflect on yourself.

Focus on your goals and nurture your intentions. You should see results in the harvest season. 

Find a natural body of water such as a river, lake or ocean and immerse yourself in the waters, or at least a part of your body. As you do this, visualize negative energies or emotions being washed away. Offer a prayer of gratitude to the water element for its purifying properties. 

Cast spells of fruition. It’s a great time for spells of success, abundance, love, purification, protection and parenthood.

This celebration beckons us to embrace the power of the sun and revel in the abundance of the summer season. Celebrate life, growth, and the eternal cycle of nature. May the blessings of Litha fill our hearts with warmth and inspiration through the year!

For more detail on this celebration, visit this post!

#litha #midsummer #summer solstice #holidays #celebrations #summer

[caspercryptid]

Hey. Remember you can celebrate the holidays non religiously and non denominationally. Decide that December 26th is going to be the day you buy lots of reindeer statues on sale. Decide its going to be reindeer statue day. Do this every year. Or pick a movie you like, doesn't have to be seasonal but it could be winter themed, rewatch that every year. Make your favorite food with it. Invite friends who don't have stuff going on for the holidays. Cook for them. Get on itch.io to find a game to play w your friends or buy a board game. If you don't look forward to this time of year you can give yourself something to look forward to. You can establish your own traditions. You can do this any time. Make this time of year a time of year you look forward to by doing things you enjoy doing. I believe in u

#holiday #christmas #i have covid so im not dojng shit but #i kept seeing make ur own christmas posts and jts like. well #not everyone wants to celebrate christmas #And shouldn't have to to enjoy the winter solstice #casper's cryptid tales

[bottledupcomic]

I want to wish Whinter a Happy Birthday!!!!

Happy birthday to Cloud boy whose shirt design I will finalize someday!

#ask tammy #whinter #art #yes the last one is pretty much his splatoon shirt #I did also wanna actually draw something to celebrate his birthday and winter solstice but got busy

[enchantedwitchling]

Embracing the Magic of Yule: A Witch's Guide to Celebrating the Winter Solstice

🌟❄️🕯️

As the winter solstice approaches, the veil between worlds thins, inviting us into the enchanting realm of Yule. This sacred time, celebrated by witches and pagans, heralds the rebirth of the sun, the return of light, and the promise of new beginnings. Let's explore the essence of Yule, how witches honor this festival, rituals, spells, and the myriad wonders associated with this magical season.

What is Yule?

Yule marks the shortest day and longest night of the year, a celestial event celebrating the sun's return and the triumph of light over darkness. It symbolizes rebirth, renewal, and the turning of the wheel of the year.

How Do Witches Celebrate Yule?

Witches honor Yule with joyous celebrations, rituals, and traditions steeped in ancient lore. They decorate their altars and homes with evergreen boughs, holly, mistletoe, and candles to welcome the returning light.

Rituals and Spells for Yule

🕯️ Yule Log Ceremony: Carving intentions into a Yule log and burning it symbolizes releasing the old and inviting the new.

🌲 Nature Walks: Connect with nature and the dormant Earth. Collect fallen evergreen branches for decorations.

🔮 Divination Rituals: Perform divination to gain insight into the upcoming year's energies and opportunities.

🕯️ Candle Magic: Light candles in colors symbolizing intentions—gold for prosperity, red for courage, and green for growth.

Yule and Sacred Symbols

✨ The Wheel of the Year: Symbolizing the cyclical nature of life, the wheel turns to the winter solstice, marking the beginning of the solar year.

🌞 The Sun: An emblem of hope and vitality, the return of the sun is celebrated with gratitude and reverence.

Other Yuletide Traditions

🎶 Feasting and Merriment: Share meals with loved ones, celebrating abundance and kinship.

🎁 Gift-Giving: Exchange gifts as tokens of love and appreciation, reflecting the spirit of generosity.

Yule is a time of introspection, gratitude, and setting intentions for the coming year. Whether you're performing rituals, casting spells, or simply embracing the magic of the season, Yule offers an opportunity to connect deeply with the natural rhythms of life. As we honor the returning light, let us kindle the flame of hope within our hearts, celebrating the resilience of the human spirit and the everlasting cycle of life.

May your Yule be blessed with warmth, joy, and the abundance of the season.

🌟❄️🕯️

#yuletide #happy yule #yule #yule celebrations #baby witch #witchy vibes #witchcore #beginner witch #book of shadows #closet witch #grimoire #magick #witch #witch community #witch tips #witchblr #witchcraft 101 #witchcraft community #seasonalmagic #winter solstice #witchy things #witchcraft

[stromuprisahat]

“the show ruined the darkling the show ruined darklina” oh you mean the show considered the nuance of without overly romanticizing a centuries-old power-hungry ABUSER who has committed genocide and taken advantage of countless women and it explored the ways in which “darklina” as a ship dynamic is really about him manipulating a lonely vulnerable girl and using his trauma to victimize himself as an excuse to lash out and fulfill his blatant power grabs and excessive violence against innocent people, and it emphasized how being lonely and having complexity doesn’t justify war crimes and instead focused on empowering the victims of kirigan’s abuse and didn’t pretend like darklina was for a moment a healthy valid romantic choice for alina because it wasn’t it was a relationship predicated on gaslighting manipulation and literal enslavement based on the traumatic experiences of the author herself and it should not be romanticized in any way shape or form? HAHA WELL GO CRY ABOUT IT IM HAVING A BLAST

I intended to seriously reply, but please, do come back once you learn to use capitals and diacritics. Your "opinion" is unreadable.

It's enough that I'd waste time on a person parroting show creators without the ability to apply an ounce of own thinking or politely participate in debate of constructive criticism, ANON.

#reply #grishanalyticritical #Shadow and Bone #Grishaverse #The Darkling #Darklina #antis #I haven't been bullied by these shitstains for a while... #I guess they don't have anything better to do a few days before Christmas. #I'd almost feel sad for them. #Get a life! #Celebrate solstice with things you DO enjoy! #Cowards always make sure I won't be able to block them...

[esoteric-chaos]

Winter Solstice Masterpost - Spoonie Witch Friendly

The Winter Solstice typically lands around December 21st in the Northern Hemisphere (June 21st for the Southern Hemisphere).

Celebrates the arrival of the longest night, and the light returning after that. 

The Winter Solstice is celebrated throughout history in many cultures. Traditional customs such as the burning of the symbolic log, the decorated tree, and wassailing.

Correspondences

Colours

Dark Green

Orange

Red

Gold and silver

White

Black

Blue

Herbal

Bay

Blessed Thistle

Frankincense

Chamomile

Peppermint

Rosemary

Lemongrass

Myrrh

Ginger

Cinnamon

Cardamom

Cloves

Nutmeg

Saffron

Pine

Cedar

Holly

Mistletoe

Cypress

Edibles

Citrus Fruits (oranges, lemons, limes, grapefruit, etc)

Root Vegetables

Baked goods

Roasted meat

Nuts

Dried Fruit

Stews

Soups

Pomegranates

Gingerbread

Cinnamon or berry breads, cookies, cakes, etc

Solstice log (edible version)

Cranberries

Apples

Eggnog

Hot chocolate

Mulled wine

Wassail

Mead

Spiced apple cider

Tea

Coffee

Animals

Deer

Bear

Goat

Reindeer

Robins

Pig

Cow

Goose

Owl

Fox

Squirrel

Any animal that hibernates

Crystals

Ruby

Orange calcite

Garnet

Amethyst

Clear quartz

Gold

Emerald

Diamond

Bloodstone

Green Calcite

Spiritual meanings & intentions  

Rest

Goal setting

Gratitude

Peace

Beginning

Renewal

Kindness

Ritual

shadow work

Rumination and reflection

Self-care

Personal development

Divination work

Rejuvenation

Healing

Embracing the darkness

Solitude

Slumber

Celebrating with family and loved ones

Need some suggestions to celebrate? I got you covered.

High energy celebrations

Feasting with the folk

Homestead decoration

Creation of a symbolic log (to eat or burn)

Making a wreath

Volunteer/charity work

Creation of a solstice altar

Decorating a solstice tree

Renewal ritual

Low energy celebrations  

Snow water

Making herbal fire starters

Lighting a candle for ancestors

Singing/humming

Mug cakes or easy bake cookies

No spoon celebrations  

Thanking/writing gratitude 

Company of loved ones

Eating premade desserts

Listening to music 

How you celebrate the holiday does not matter. You can choose to do any activity that feels right. These are only suggestions and remember that you’re enough no matter what.  

#Winter Solstice #winter solstice celebration #Winter Solstice correspondences #Winter Solstice magic #chronic illness #witchcraft #witch #spoonie witch #Wheel of the Year #sabbats #spoonie magic #pagan holidays

[avianhasnodignity]

my silly little guide to the solstices

summer solstice general themes are rejuvenation, energy, joy, rebirth

celebration ideas are:

crafts like flower crown making, bracelet making, paper crafts, etc. and trading said crafts with each other

cool foods and drinks (ex. fruits and lemonade)

flowers and nature-themed things for decorations

high-energy activities like sports but with low-energy alternatives like board or video games

trading funny and exciting stories with each other

preferably celebrated outside but can be celebrated inside, or a mix of both

winter solstice general themes are relaxation, lasting connection, winter, warmth

celebration ideas are:

gift trading/giving

warm foods and drinks (ex. fresh-baked cookies and hot chocolate)

soft, warm lights, evergreen trees, and snowflakes for decorations

low-energy activities like watching something on tv, board games, or chill video games

trading sweet and touching stories with each other, sharing sentiments you have for people with them

preferably celebrated inside but can be celebrated outside, or a mix of both

these are not guidelines, just my ideas of how people could celebrate and the general themes that should surround the holidays! feel free to suggest ideas in the comments/reblogs and have fun however you choose to celebrate :)

#winter solstice #summer solstice #celebrations #holidays

[buffetlicious]

Sending you and your loved ones a very beautiful and blessed Winter Solstice (Dongzhi Festival) with warm rays of sun which will soon bring the season of spring.

忙碌的是生活，离别的是距离，问候的是祝福，期待的是团聚，思念的是情谊，想到的是心意，冬至节日悄悄，温暖慢慢送到，烦恼越来越少，幸福一生。冬至快乐 !

Dongzhi (冬至) literally means “Winter's Arrival”. It is one of the 24 solar terms of China's traditional solar calendar. It has long been celebrated on Winter Solstice when the night is longest and the day is shortest in the Northern Hemisphere. The main Chinese Winter Solstice traditions are worshipping the Heaven and ancestors. Dumplings and Glutinous Rice Balls (汤圆) are popular food eaten during the celebration of the festival in China and many parts of the world.

#Winter Solstice #Dongzhi #冬至 #Festival #Tang Yuan #汤圆 #Glutinous Rice Ball #Dumpling #Sweet Soup #糖水 #Colourful #Chinese Culture #Tradition #Celebration #Recipe #Video #Youtube #Dessert #Snack #Food #Buffetlicious