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Cinnamon Bun
Cinnamon Bun Traditions!

Cinnamon Bun Traditions!

Cinnamon Bun Traditions!

I placed my hands on my hips and inspected the room. It was one of the bigger libraries-slash-living rooms in the mansion, in the East wing and only a corridor away from the dining room where we usually had breakfast as a group.

Usually, the library was a stately place, with shelves on both levels, a spiral staircase in the corner, and a couple of big wooden desks for people to read at.

It... admittedly was still like that. But I had spruced it up a bit.

With some help, of course. Gen-Gen had raised an eyebrow when I came to him with a list of things I needed, but he didn’t make much of a fuss. I think he, at least, got into the proper spirit of things.

We hung some green things off the bannisters, and lit up the fire in the corner until it was roaring hot with crackling logs. Gen-Gen had helped me boil some milk with grated dark chocolate, and one of the chef’s made a great big bowl of pudding.

When I had asked Gen-Gen if we could cut down a tree and put it in the corner, he objected with a rather flat stare. So the gifts I’d gotten were all wrapped up and placed on one of the tables near the back.

The sun was setting early, as it was wont to do when things got colder, and the only light in the room was the cozy yellow-orange glow from the fireplace and a few strategically placed candles.

I grinned. It was perfect.

We had made so much hot chocolate that I doubted we’d be able to drink even half, so I insisted that all the staff try some, and some pudding too. Amaryllis and her sisters were real lucky to have such nice people looking out for them.

“What have you done to our library?”

I spun around and came face to face with Amaryllis and Clementine, both of whom were looking around at all the decorations. “Gen-Gen said that we should come here. I didn’t expect it to be because a guest made a mess of the room,” Clementine said.

“It’s not a mess,” I said. “It’s decorations.” I skipped over to both of them, then pulled them into a big squawking hug. “I made a holiday party,” I said.

“You strung branches around,” Amaryllis protested.

“It’s festive,” I said.

Clementine glared at her sister. “You’d better clean up for your friend.”

“She can clean up after herself. She’s not a dog. Dogs are smarter.”

Our next guest, Orange, ambled into the room, looked around, then sauntered over to the fire before flopping down right next to it where she could hog the heat.

And then, while Clementine and Amaryllis squabbled some more, Awen and Rosaline arrived. “Welcome!” I said.

“Hello!” Rosaline said. “So, what’s so important that I got to leave work early to attend?” she asked.

“You did what?” Clementine asked.

I pulled her into a tight-tight hug. “We’re having a family party,” I said.

Awen was the next one I squeezed. “Awa? Why?”

“Because it’s almost winter and we might not have the opportunity later,” I said. “I got... some of the traditional things. I couldn’t find any mistletoe for kissing, or fruit cake, But I did find ugly sweaters.”

“Mistletoe? Sweaters?” Rosaline repeated.

I skipped over to one of the tables, then raised a big fluffy sweater off the surface. It was covered in little feather patterns and poorly knit chicks, the yarn all stingy and coming apart in spots. “I have one for everyone,” I said.

“I’m not wearing that,” Clementine and Amaryllis said in stereo.

I lowered the sweater, my ears drooping down at the same time. “You won’t?” I asked.

“Ah, um, Broccoli, maybe you could tell us what, um, what’s going on?” Awen asked.

I nodded. “Right. It would make a lot more sense if I explained.” I tapped the side of my head with my knuckles. “Duh! There’s a big celebration where I’m from every year. You get together with all of your friends and family, and you just kind of hang out and give each other gifts. My family was just me and my mom and dad, and our gifts were never big things, but it was always really nice. Just... being together, staying warm and watching the same movies every year while drinking hot chocolate.”

One of Amaryllis’ eyebrows perked up. “And you want to do that now?”

“It’s not the right date,” I admitted. “But then, I don’t know what the date even is. And if we put it off, we might not have the chance later. So... yeah, I was thinking it would be really nice to share a little. We’re all going off and doing our own things, which is fine but... well, what if we miss each other later? It would be nice to have good memories, if only for the one day.”

Amaryllis sighed. “Do you have a sweater that isn’t covered in chickens?”

I smiled. “I have one with bunnies!” I raised the sweater in question.

“That’s hideous.”

“That’s the spirit!” I cheered.

Clementine shook her head. “You can’t be serious.”

Amaryllis tugged her over. “Just put the sweater on and stop complaining so much.”

“This is a waste of my time,” she said.

“It’s important to Broccoli. She’s a sentimental idiot. If she starts crying because you leave I’m going to turn your life into a nightmare,” Amaryllis said.

Clementine glared at her sister, then looked at me.

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I put on my very best smile.

“Fine.”

Soon, everyone had a sweater on, Clementine one with leafy patterns on it, Rosaline one with a rainbow-y pattern on the front. Awen got the chicken sweater and I got one with a big tree across it. “Okay! Come, we should sit down. There’s pudding and hot chocolate.”

“Why would you heat the chocolate?” Clementine asked. “It’ll melt.”

“That’s the idea,” I said.

I ushered everyone over to the sofas close to the fire while answering Rosaline’s questions about mistletoe. She seemed to like that tradition a lot, at least I think she did. The mugs of hot chocolate I had placed under a big tin cover were all marked with runes that kept the hot chocolate warm so everyone had a steaming mug to sip from.

The bowl of pudding was placed on a coffee table, with smaller bowls next to it, and a pile of spoons and a ladle to grab some with. I sat down next to Amaryllis on a big sofa, then took a big sip from my mug. “Ah.”

“So, is this everything?” Amaryllis asked as she blew across the surface of her drink.

“Nope!” I said as I set down my mug. “It’s tradition that everyone give everyone else a gift.”

“You do know that we didn’t bring gifts, right?” Amaryllis asked.

“That’s fine. It’s your first time. It’s okay to not be the best.”

Rosaline snorted, but when I looked her way she dismissed me with a wave.

“I’ll get your gifts!”

I set my mug down and bounced across the room to pick up the stack of wrapped presents. They were all about the same size, with little tags held on by string around them. I grabbed the whole lot and brought them back to the sofas before placing them on the ground.

“Do you want to open them all at the same time, or one at a time?” I asked.

“Are they all unique?” Amaryllis asked.

I shook my head. “I’m afraid not. It’s a bit last-minute, and I didn’t have that much gold to spend, so they’re all the same for everyone. Well, nearly all the same.”

“Th-then we should open them all at the same time,” Awen said. “That seems fair.”

I handed her the gift with her name on it. “There you go then. Do you guys have traditions like this?”

“There’s a sort of festival in the spring where we commemorate the laying of a new generation,” Amaryllis said. “It’s generally a very private affair. With family members giving gifts to the next generation’s eggs.”

“That’s so cute,” I said.

“Ah, we have something in the winter,” Awen said. “No gifts, but we gather around and eat lots of pies and drink a lot of fresh cider. Uncle would tell us some stories. But, um, he would do that regardless, I think.”

I snorted as I handed the last gift to Orange. The cat stared at the smallest box, then up at me as if she wanted an explanation.

“You’re a friend too,” I said before patting her head.

Talons and hands dug into the packages and soon everyone was holding up a pretty scarf, wach in a different shade and all of them very comfy.

“Cute!” Rosaline declared as she wrapped her scarf around her neck. “Thanks Broc.”

“I thought, since it’s getting a bit cold, and most of my friends here are birds, it would be nice to make sure you’re warm and snug,” I said. Awen nodded as she snuggled into her scarf. “There’s more!”

Clementine set her scarf down on her lap and raised her other gift. It was a bracelet, made of polished copper and shaped like a ‘C’ with letters carved all around it. “A cheap bracelet?” she asked.

“It has all of our initials,” I said. “It’s a friendship bracelet!” I raised my own hand, showing mine off.

“Put on your bracelet Clem,” Amaryllis said as she fit hers on.

“It’s immature,” Clementine said.

I shook my head. “There’s nothing immature about telling the whole world that you have good friends!”

She scoffed. “That’s so wrong I don’t know where to begin.”

Amaryllis poked her sister in the ribs and Clementine slipped her bracelet on with a roll of her eyes.

I jumped across the divide between us and hugged her tight. “Thank you!” I said.

“Get off me! Amaryllis, control your idiot friend!”

“Not when she’s only being an idiot at you,” Amaryllis said.

Clementine squirmed under my hug until she huffed a huff of reluctant acceptance and hugged me back. I let her go, but only so I could help Orange open her gift.

“I got you a ball of yarn, since I don’t think you’d want a scarf, and a friendship collar since your wrists are very small,” I told the spirit cat as I opened her present.

She sniffed the collar, then ignored it in favour of poking the ball of yarn. The moment it started to roll away her eyes narrowed and her butt started wiggling. I left her to it.

I smiled over to my friends. Amaryllis was arguing with her sister again, this time about how to properly tie a scarf, and Rosaline was asking Awen what she would do if there was some mistletoe around. Awen was blushing a bunch, but she didn’t seem to by shying away from the teasing at all.

Orange darted past, chasing her bouncing yarn and having a ball.

I, for my part, served myself a bowl-full of pudding and sat back to enjoy the happy sounds of a little family just getting along.

***