Once again I have been given a gift in honor of this season, one that I did not deserve. Lubos came to find me while I was discussing my charges with Danit, and from his smile, I knew immediately what he intended.
“I couldn’t possibly,” I protested. “I am being restricted by the seniors—”
“Who are not unforgiving,” Danit inserted. She was smiling, too. “We placed the restriction on you for a reason, Asa’el, but that does not mean there will be no ease to your punishment. Your transgression was out of love, and that is always taken into consideration. Besides, you want to see her, do you not?”
And of course there was only one answer to that question. So I went with Lubos to visit with his most singular charge, my fire-woman, Freya.
She has cut her hair, which dismayed me at first, but I have come to admire the way the clean edges run along her cheeks. Her mother disapproves of the change, of course, which makes me wonder whether that was not part of the reason she did it. There is quite a bit of mischief in her.
When we found her, her thoughts were as busy as her hands as she helped her mother decorate her house for Christmas. She was thinking about her job, where her seniors want to send her to a big conference in the spring, which happens the same weekend as a presentation her mother will be giving at a prestigious university. Asking to be excused from the job would cause tension in her workplace, which Freya wants to avoid, but she also does not want to hurt her mother, so she was mulling over her options.
Then her mind went to her father, as it often does, or so Lubos told me. Though they are out of touch, now and again he will get back into contact with her. He has done so recently, asking for money as he usually does, and Freya is trying to decide whether or not to give it to him. Part of her wants to help him; the rest wants to cut him off, as he only hurts her and she is losing hope that he will ever be what he wants her to be.
“She seems…” I studied her aura, trying to find the correct word. “Restless.” That wasn’t the right one, but it was close, and not untrue.
Lubos nodded. “Humans walk through bright times and dark times, and those emotional states do not always reflect their circumstances. This is a dim time for her. I hope that the holiday will brighten her spirits a bit.”
I looked at her, turning a pine branch in her hands, and wished there was something I could do to help. “How is she doing with Ryan?”
Lubos sighed. “Restless is a good word for it,” he said. “She is happy when she is with him, but when he is away, as now, she does not often think of him. I am not certain that he will be able to hold her attention.”
“That is a shame. They seem so good together.”
“I have not given up on them yet. But she has a feather’s weight, after all, so I should not have expected the task to be easy.”
I knew that when I first asked for her to be assigned to someone, but still it upsets me. I want her to be happy with someone who loves her and whom she loves with all her heart and soul. She deserves that.
“Hey,” Freya called to her mother in the other room. “Why the hell did you leave this so late?”
“Exams were brutal this year,” Esther shouted back. “Come help me with the stockings.”
Freya frowned and finished winding the branch around the stair railing before going into the sitting room. “There are two stockings, and all you have to do is hang them on the nail,” she said. “So you want to try again?”
Esther, who has some of the same sharp intelligence in her eyes as Freya, fixed her daughter with a glare and handed her a stocking. “Why didn’t you go spend Christmas with Ryan like he suggested?”
“Because I wanted to spend Christmas with you. But if you don’t want me—”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Esther scoffed, hanging her stocking. She looked at it, then tugged it to hang more straight. “You could have invited him here, too.”
“He has a big family, Ma. He wanted to go see them, and I’m okay with that. I’ll call him tonight.”
Esther sighed and turned back to the tree. It was beautifully decorated, but she fussed with it, pulling up a string of lights and removing a tattered paper ornament. “He’s a nice boy,” she said almost to herself.
“Maybe you should call him tonight,” Freya smirked.
Esther muttered something under her breath. “Fine, I will stop nagging. But you just remember that he likes you very much, and if you don’t like him as much, you should tell him so.”
“Thanks for the advice,” Freya drawled, turning and heading out of the room. “What do you want for dinner?” she called over her shoulder.
“She may not like to hear it,” Lubos murmured, “but it has been on her mind, too.”
I shook my head, following Freya into the kitchen and watching her as she began to take out pots and dishes. She is so graceful, even doing such mundane things is pleasing to watch.
“We forget sometimes that this joyous season is often a source of stress and pain to our charges,” I murmured. “Their culture tells them that a certain level of perfection in their lives and relationships is expected. But perfection of any kind is beyond them, and so they suffer.”
“Indeed. But remember, all their joy and happiness is tainted—either eroded over time, or combined with other uncertainties or pain. That does not make the joy or the happiness any less real or comforting.”
“Then I hope that she does find joy and comfort in the days to come,” I said. I took one last, long look at her, then turned and bowed my head to Lubos. “Thank you, brother, for your continued care for me.”
“It is my pleasure,” he replied with a smile. “I am grateful that she has a friend such as you.”
It is strange to think of myself as Freya’s friend, but I suppose that is what I must be. I am not responsible for her; I am simply concerned for her well-being, and is that not the most important part of friendship? And so, to my friend Freya, I wish peace and happiness and love, in this season and all others.