Adeste Fideles
Word Count: 1936
Notes: Blame or thank, I dunno which...either way, this is @tsundere-mitsuhide’s fault...don’t let them lie to you. Happy Holidays. I know this story is just one holiday..but seriously...happy holidays. Also, liberties were taken about timelines and what nots...Also 2 MC’S??!
Winter snows graced the ground. Was it the lack of heaters in the past or the globe being generally cooler, I had no idea, but still I huddled close to the campfire. Oda Nobunaga and his camp were in a gridlock between the Uesugi/Takeda Alliance, the pirates of the Mouri, and the Ikko Ikki and things had been quite tight. It was uncomfortable, but we still managed.
You, however, were greatly missing home this holiday. Christmas was that time of year for joy, family, gifts, and love. Instead we both were mired in cold, pain, tension, rations, and alienation. A wormhole swallowed us both and Sasuke, who ended with the Uesugi (another thorn of sadness that our brethren of the modern era was forced to the other side of the war) and I could see the toll it was taking to see you missing your homeland now more than any other time since coming here.
The sengoku family huddled around the campfire, doing what warcamps generally did. Told stories, boasted accomplishments, commiserated about missing their loved ones. I warmed my hands at the fire, watching you as we listened to the great unifiers of Japan.
“So I challenged, ‘you ain’t seen nothing yet’,” The One-Eyed Dragon reenacted his fight from earlier that day. A glorious victory, one could be sure. “And sword in each hand, I went for it. No one, not even The God of War would have been able to keep up at that point!” “You’re right,” Ieyasu lamented, gulping down the last dredges of the stew Masa had made for the soldiers, “My bandages can scarce keep up. Can’t even see how you do it.” “Ha! I’m just that good,” Masa’s smile was wild and flamboyant as he quite deliberately misconstrued Ieyasu’s chidings, a feat Ieyasu himself noted and rolled his eyes to.
“Mm, but I was quite impressed with our little princess actually blocking an arrow as she flailed about the battlefield,” Mitsuhide always knew how to fluff my feathers, darn it. “Look, it was YOUR idea to have me on a blasted horse after I told you I specifically did not want to be near a horse,” I replied, my back stiff as it recalled the terror of my little adventure today, “The block was sheer luck and I am grateful to the gods for it.” “Still looked cool to me,” Masa offered. “It was reckless. Be more aware next time,” Hideyoshi chided.
“Ok, but what about after?” I pointed to you, my ears burning and wanting the attention off of me, “The way you handled those blades to get me to safety. Where did those come from?” “Oh yes, do tell,” Mitsuhide’s flaxen eyes watched you for your response as well. “They’re mine,” you stated, matching Mitsuhide’s entertained expression with a calm one of your own, “Lord Nobunaga even said I could keep them when I found them. Take it up with him.”
It was nice seeing your face lose its gloominess, but it was not to last. Soon, conversations drifted back away from the two of us and the shadows of homesickness returned once more.
[If only there was something I could do...hmm] You stood, seeking your way to the supplies tent, an idea coming to your head, “Just need some…”
“And just what do you think you’re doing?” I jumped, finding Ieyasu staring at me. “Planning on throwing our supplies to the wind like yourself earlier?” “No,” I held up a finger, “Do you have lemons or oranges?”
“And those are..” [Oh yeah right…] “Uh...like...yuzu..or kan?
“We have yuzu for the onsen, but we have those packed until we reach Kiyosu.” “We’re leaving?” Ieyasu sighed, “Yes. That Motonari is interfering too much and it looks like every side is stretched too thin to deal with everyone at once. We’re withdrawing.” I nodded, turning back to the supplies, “Could I have one or two?”
“Braincells? That might be too much,” Ieyasu retorted, “Otherwise I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Mikan or yuzu.” “Why” “Something…”
Ieyasu gestured but approached one of the carts food. He plucked up four yellow fruits and handed them to me. “What do you want these for?” “A gift. There’s…” I hesitated. While it was generally accepted we’d come from another village- and shoot I from a whole country entirely given my western looks- how it came that we shared traditions and knowledge was always a bit of a slippery slope. I attempted to keep my words careful, “a holiday where I’m from. And with us both,” I indicated camp, implying you, “so far from home...I was just hoping to share something of my home...to make it easier.”
Ieaysu nodded and said nothing else. I took it as my signal to flee and escape. Next, I took my way to the food tent. With Masa already having fed everyone, I was sure the tent would be empty.
I was wrong. “Something you need, kitten?”
I smiled, though I’m sure I still looked quite like a mouse in front of the playful cat. Also, I’m quite sure Mitsuhide would love to have heard that comparison. [No giving the marksman anymore ammunition, me.] “Was hoping to find a knife...to cut these,” I held up the yuzu for Masamune to see.
Tool obtained, I set to work, splitting the fruits in half and gouging out the center parts, trying to leave as much of the white pith behind as possible. Part of the juice, I let flow back into the bowls I’d created and put the rest into an actual bowl, stating, “If you add a little sugar and water to this...you can make refreshing juice for the soldiers. Makes for a great revitalizing drink.” “Noted, kitten.”
[And now I’ve introduced lemonade almost 100 years too early. Sasuke please don’t be mad...but I mean you kept Kenshin alive...pretty sure my sin is a lot smaller in the eyes of Gallifrey.]
I peeled up a bit of pith, standing it straight up from it’s little yuzu bowl. I smiled at my handiwork, “Kinda wish I had wax, but this will have to do.” “Not sure why we’d have wax on a military campaign since we’re not Buddhists here, but I’d be delighted to hear why you want it, little mouse,” the tent moved aside and the silver fox of azuchi was there. “And what this has to do with yuzu fruits.”
[Of course he’d investigate. The man, I swear, can detach his eyes and have them float around like little moons, I’m sure.] I held up my little bowl of pith and citrus juice. “I’m making a gift for someone. Ieyasu-sama gave me two, but I only really needed one. One for me and one for my friend.”
“And you need wax because?” Now Masamune was back into the conversation, his single sapphire eye alight with curiosity. “I’m making makeshift candles,” I stated, quite proud of myself. Mitsuhide smiled and I could tell he was laughing at me, “Such effort for such a tiny thing.” I puffed my cheeks like the little gerbil I was in the face of the fox and Mitsuhide was unfettered, “There are plenty of ways to get candles without all this effort. Ieyasu had almost thought you were going to bathe yourselves. Pity he was wrong.”
I bit my retort as my face was already scorching and I knew my voice would never cooperate after such a devastating strike to my armory of wit.
I took my candles and thanked Masamune for his help and Mitsuhide for his lack thereof and set out to find you.
You were helping put the majority of the fires for the night, some staying lit for the watchmen taking up their nightly guard. I called and you glanced up, finding a tiny decimated citrus fruit being presented.
“Come...it’s Christmas. They’re not beeswax but they’re better than nothing.”
We stepped to the back of camp, out of the way and hopefully well out of any danger that might come. The sky was barren of stars due to the blanket of cloud threatening more snowfall. It was a shame. A star or two would have made this much nicer.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” You asked, holding your little gift in question. “Well, I thought we could light it and sing Christmas songs.” It was only after the words left my mouth that I realized I forgot something instrumental in my plan.
“With what?” You noticed the flaw as well. I laughed, I mean what else do ya do? It wasn’t the end of the world, but embarrassed I still was. “I obviously didn’t get that far.”
“Obviously,” you agreed.
So, we stood, staring at a bunch of cloud, the white of the snow gleaming on the ground. The nighttime world was changed into a whole new realm when the snow falls. That period that’s not dark, but clearly not day and certainly not a twilight.
“Still...be a waste to ruin the night, huh?” I asked. My mouth opened and the snow provided the perfect sound barrier to keep my song from carrying too far into the night.
Adeste fideles laeti triumphantes
“Your Latin is terrible,” You laughed. I stumped over the next few words, small bits of laughter almost overtaking my song. But still I sang. Eventually, even you joined in, our imperfect pitches doing little to stop us from enjoying our little bit of caroling.
“Maybe instead of kittens, you should be songbirds,” a voice chimed in. We turned, Masamune, holding a hollowed out yuzu half behind us.
“We could call them cuckoo birds,” Mitsuhide offered, holding a makeshift candle of his own.
“Well, don’t let us stop you from keeping everyone in the camp awake,” Ieyasu, holding a candle of his own, waved his hand, “Go on. We’ll wait. Not like we got anything better to do.”
I laughed, resuming singing. Noticing that you weren’t singing along. I elbowed, and poked, but you were not having it. [No matter] I though, letting lose my inner Mariah Carey [I’ll sing enough for all of us]. Mitsuhide approached, lighting our candles, the citrus scent wafting from the heat of the flames.
Silent Night broke out into Holy Night and we Veni’d Emmanual for what seemed like forever and no time at all.
“Hmm,” a new voice approached as Nobunaga appeared, holding his own little bowl of candle. “I heard voices and found this. I am curious what my vassals and charms are doing.”
“Caroling,” You responded, your cheeks red from cold but eyes bright with merriment.
“It’s tradition,” I quipped, prepared to sing the next number.
“And does Emmanuel,” Nobunaga pronouncing the name Emmanuel in his accent was an event I’d cherish forever, “know of the tradition.” “You know Latin,” you blinked at him in surprise. “Enough to know you’re not singing anymore. Now,” Nobunaga, holding his candle to Mitsuhide to light, “Continue this caroling of yours. I demand to hear more.”
Knowing what happened to the last cuckoo bird that refused to sing for Japan’s first Unifier, we sang. We sang every song we knew, from Jingle Bells to Feliz Navidad. We even tried one or two attempts to translate a few into Japanese for Japan’s warlords to learn. Song and laughter reached up into the night sky and it seemed even the celestial powers above were touched. The clouds broke away, clearing the heavens, and revealing the first stars to grace Japan’s very first Christmas Night.