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    Sam Wyer
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Not Just For Christmas - 1. Chapter 1

As noted above, you should probably read the original short story that introduced Tligg and Craagen, as this chapter is a continuation of that timeline.
 

Today, as most days so far this year, Tligg was doing not very much at all, preferring to lay on his bed and stare at the ceiling, but occasionally forced outside by his mother, where he could stare at the sky instead. It’s been a little over four months since he retuned home from The Great Project, and despite his misgivings about it, he’d had a pretty great time there. Not least because of Craagen. But that all felt very unreal now that Tligg was back home, back to reality, and Craagen felt a very long way away. It wasn’t that he enjoyed being in this state, quite the opposite. He knew, or rather, he felt, as soon as they had parted ways back at The Great Project, that a part of him was missing. He felt broken, in a way he’d never felt before. And he longed to feel whole again. But it all seemed so silly, so futile. It couldn’t ever have been anything more than a brief period of fun. But it had been such intense fun. More than fun. Tligg knew that what he felt was more than simple fun. And now, the chaotic mix of desire and longing, tempered with reality and the ever present sense that it could never work anyway kept him in a state of inaction. Elves don’t have a word for depressed, because the Great Elven Order had decided many, many cycles ago that is just wouldn’t be necessary. But in the human world, that’s exactly what he would be.

So he hadn’t said very much about Craagen to his mother, other than to vaguely explain away the new clothes. Of course Nettoine Winterbaum was no fool, and realised that whatever had happened between the two boys must have been more than ‘just friends’ if things had progressed as far as gifts of clothes, and in such a short time. And then there were the letters. Three had arrived so far, all of which she suspected were from the Craagen boy as she had seen the Blueshine Meadow mailstamps when the post had arrived. In one of Tligg's rare comments about the boy, he said that he lived somewhere over in the Everpastures, and they surely didn’t know anyone else from that area. The Everpastures had something of as reputation for fanciful and energetic living, certainly compared to the generally conservative views of the elves of the Primrosehamptons. There were even rumours of distinctly hedonistic gatherings over there, although to the best of her knowledge, this, like so many things with elves, was greatly exaggerated. And now there was another letter.

Nettoine waved to the delivery bird as it flew away in to the late morning sun, placing the letter addressed to Tligg on the table, complete with Blueshine Meadow mailstamps. Her first instinct was to leave it there for him, but then, she wondered if today was going to be another day when he barely left his bed, so took it to him instead.

“Tligg, there’s a letter for you. Another one.”

Tligg continued to stare at the ceiling and didn’t respond. His mother moved from her position in his doorway and walked over to sit on the edge of his bed.

“Here you go.”

He turned over the envelope a couple of times, inspecting it, before dropping it on to the floor with a heavy sigh.

“Aren’t you going to read it?”

“Not with you here. Besides, it will be the same as the others.”

“Oh. And is that a bad thing? You never really talk about it.”

“It’s fine, you wouldn’t understand. Nobody does. I have to work it out for myself.”

“Hmm. And staying in bed all day? Is that helping?”

Tligg scowled a little as he glared in her direction.

“OK, well maybe you can get up and come through for some lunch. I’ve made manybean soup and fresh flowerbread, you’re favourite.”

He knew this of course, because the smell had been drifting through the house all morning, and it had made him feel hungry. Nettoine made her way back to the kitchen, and Tligg stared at the ceiling for a few more minutes before finally pulling himself out of bed and getting ready for the day. Once he was dressed in his day clothes, he sat back down on his bed and picked up the letter from the floor. He knew who it was going to be from anyway, but still, his heart beat a little faster as he read.

 

Dear Tligg,
I hope this finds you well. I’ve become a little worried about you as I haven’t heard from you at all since we returned home. I’m sure I have the right address for you, I know I wrote it down very carefully that night, but maybe you aren’t receiving them for some reason.

Yes, you did. You made me repeat it like five times.

Anyhow, I’m writing to you again, as I hope you can see! I’m sure there will be some perfectly boring explanation for why I haven’t got any of your replies yet. Things have been really busy around here recently, and I’m sure I’ll tell you all about the comings and goings of Blueshine Meadow when I see you. But really, there was something else I wanted to tell you. Actually there are two things. Oh well. I should think about this more before I start writing it all down!

Thing number one - I want to invite you to come and visit. It’s almost summer, and that’s absolutely the best time to see the Meadow. I’m hoping that you can even stay for a week or three as it’s also my nameday just after the next moon and there’s going to be a party. I’d love for you to be here, and to meet my friends too. I’m sure they are all excited to meet you, I probably tell them about you far too much!

Yeah, you probably do, you crazy over-excitable boy. Tligg smiled, remembering how Craagen looked when he was bursting with energy.

And thing number two - I was really REALLY hoping to talk to you about this first, but I’ve done it anyway now, so I hope you’re not mad or anything. But I’ve put our names down for The Great Project again this year! I wasn’t sure if you would want to go early like I did last year or not, so I’ve said I’ll let them know.

You’ve done what!? What green world do you live in, you crazy idiot boy!

As I’m sure you know, the absolute last possible deadline to confirm it will be Summer’s Day, but that’s moons away yet, so we have lots of time to work it out!

I really hope to hear from you soon. It’s going to be so much fun having you come visit! There’s so much more to tell you, I just can’t wait for you to get here!

Dust and sprinkles

Craagen

 

Tligg's slumped back onto his bed. What the green was he thinking? But then, it’s Craagen, he probably wasn’t thinking very much at all. Stupid Craagen. Stupid, annoying, cute, amazing, adorable, soft, felt so good, Craagen. Urgh!

Opting to distract himself in the way that all elves can be best distracted, with food, Tligg made his way through to the kitchen and the waiting manybean soup. Nettoine sat opposite her son, knowing that interrupting his eating wasn’t going to lead to anything productive, and so gave him time. Eventually, when he’d reached the bottom of the bowl, Tligg looked up.

“What?” He asked, seeing his mothers enquiring look.

“Nothing.”

He soaked up the last traces of the soup with a chunk of flowerbread, before again catching the same look from Nettoine.

“Fine! He wants me to go and visit, and stay for a while. It’s his nameday soon, apparently.”

“Oh, I see.” She didn’t try and hide her smile.

“What? What do you see? It’s stupid, I’m probably not even going to go.”

“Yes, of course. Why would you?”

“I mean, I’ve really only just met him.”

“Uhuh.”

“And he’s so annoying, you know? It’s like everything ever is literally the most amazing thing he’s ever seen. It’s like talking to a permanently startled and over-excitable deer.”

“Yes…”

“We don’t even know each other properly. This is exactly like him, he get’s so carried away with things, and doesn’t think, and just assumes that everyone is like him.”

“Oh my, well yes…”

“I mean, why would I want to go and visit? And see him. And stay there for a few days at least. And go to his party? And meet his friends?”

Nettoine stood up and started to clear the table. “No, it would be…”

“Meeting his friends? Really? Why would I want to do that?”

“Of course…”

“And then I’d be stuck with him, because I won’t know anyone else.”

“Yes…”

“And he’ll be all… squishy and next to me all the time, you know, like he is. And I won’t be able to get away.”

“No…”

 

Tligg paused, apparently considering this further whilst repeatedly turning over his spoon.

“But then… it would be very rude of me really, wouldn’t it?”

“Well…”

“If I just didn’t go? Or didn’t even reply. No, that would be terribly rude.”

“Uhuh.”

“And he’d be so disappointed, I know he would. He’s so stupid like that, getting all emotional about every tiny little thing like it’s the most important thing in the world.”

“I see…”

“And he’s just so… I don’t know, it’s like he over-thinks literally everything, whilst also not thinking properly at all. “

“Yes, that must be…”

“And I don’t want to spoil his nameday, that would just be mean.”

“No, of course…”

“So I suppose I’ll probably just have to go, right?”

“If you think it’s best…”

“And I could probably stay for a day or two at least, so as not to offend him.”

“I’m sure…”

“Fine, if that’s what you think then. If that’s what you think I should do. I suppose I’ll have to write to him and let him know.”

Nettoine smiled to herself as Tligg left the room in search of paper and ink.

 

Tligg spent the rest of the day writing to Craagen. In fact, he wrote many times, and each one ended up ripped into piece and in the fireplace. It was version thirty two, not that anyone was counting, that finally made it in to an envelope.

Back in his bedroom, he reached under his bed and pulled out a large square box. There was no way of knowing which direction it was facing, and even if there was, he suspected Craagen’s ‘simple’ trick was more complicated than it appeared as even when he was sure, things weren’t always where he expected them to be. Taking off the lid, he saw the red and green velvet tunic, still iridescent with traces of elf dust. Without thinking, he reached out to touch it, and without trying, found himself remember their time together a few months ago. He hadn’t worn it since returning home, although he’d thought about it a few times. Replacing the lid, he turned the box a quarter turn, and opened it again. He sorted through the bits and pieces he had collected together in there, his Great Project star badge, a coaster from the first time he and Craagen had had a berry wine or actually several, the card he had received on their final day together. Finally, he found it, Craagen’s address, written on the back of a volunteer information leaflet. The memories made his elf dust vibrate all throughout his body, a not unpleasant sensation. Trying his best to push those feelings away, he closed the box and finished addressing the envelope, before leaving it outside to be collected. He left it at one end of the post perch, but then remembered that his mother had said that the blackbird doesn’t always pick things up if they’re not in the middle section. Or was it the crow? Either way, he moved it to the centre, just to be certain.

Please note - there will be intermittent updates, which will broadly reflect the timeline of the story.
I hope you have enjoyed this - I know that everyone says it, but it’s really true, you’re feedback through ‘likes’, ‘loves’ comments, or whatever you feel is appropriate really does make a difference.
Until next time...
Copyright © 2018 Sam Wyer; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

10 hours ago, Sam Wyer said:

…and the refraining :)

That's just the British in you. We could hug it out of you if you'd like! Kind of like when the get people who have a fear of flying to ride in an airplane just so they can see how silly their phobia was!  ;–)

 

We know that Brits secretly want be just like those of us in California! All tanned and casual. Not stuffy at all! Even Harry Wales loves California!  ;–)

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5 hours ago, droughtquake said:

That's just the British in you. We could hug it out of you if you'd like! Kind of like when the get people who have a fear of flying to ride in an airplane just so they can see how silly their phobia was!  ;–)

 

We know that Brits secretly want be just like those of us in California! All tanned and casual. Not stuffy at all! Even Harry Wales loves California!  ;–)

 

I love CA - but I think it will take more than exposure therapy to solve those kinds of issues :)

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