Snow Globe Maiden (complete)

    “And how are you related to me?” The girl asks.

    I smile as I always do, passing the keys of the shop into her hands. “Ask your mother,” is how I always start my reply, “she will know.”

    The girl eyes me inquisitively as her fingers clasp around the set of keys. “Ok,” she murmurs. She looks down then back at me again. “You’re sure this isn’t a goof?” She asks. “I can really have this job?”

    I smile, suppressing the massive grin I want to show. “Of course,” I reply. “No worries now. Go. Go. I’m sure you have much to unpack at the new place.” I watch her leave the shop, and I crack my neck. The loud pop makes the lights in the shop turn off and a curtain drop over the front of the window. 

    “Now,” I sigh. “Where were we?” A ladder drops down beside me, and I step onto it, letting it rise me back up through the ceiling like I was passing through a cloud.

    I do so love the ‘I’m a relative’ bit. It gives me such pleasure to lure new souls into the business. Not only that, it allows me to help old friends and other poor souls. The ‘antique shop’ was my front for various activities, this included matchmaking, finishing old deals, starting new deals, rescuing valuable commodities from dirty hands, as well as continuing my craft. And to think, they called my trickster in the old days.

    I walk across my studio, seeing the flickerings of activity within. The dolls and figures play, I hear violin music coming from the dollhouse. I walk through and towards my office. It is there I see something quite strange.

    There’s a package.

    I take up the small brown parcel and look it over. It’s sealed with care and bare no markings other than my name. This is strange for many reasons. I am usually the one who passes on unusual gifts. 

I have left many a suspicious box on a lot of desks, and this would be the first one that came to me. I open it, slicing through the tape and fishing my hand into the fishnet-like wrappings. Inside, I find a snowglobe.

    I stare at it. There isn’t anything quite unique about this snow globe. On the inside, there is a figure of a beautiful woman, but that could be said for any snowglobe. I turn the snowglobe this way and that to find some sort of marking or trace, but it is scantily clear of such things.

    The woman inside the snowglobe is very pale, then again she’s painted white. She’s wearing a blue dress and some sort of headdress, I’m not sure. I sigh and roll the cold glass around in my palms.

    “How very strange,” I murmur and set it down. “Oh well,” I grunt with a shrug. “It matters not I suppose.” I sit down at my desk and pick up a magazine sitting on top of a pile. The pages shift and change, showing me images of my work with small blurbs about them.

    “Aww, Shamhurish proposed, that’s cute. I’ll have to send them a gift.” I murmur as I flip through the pages. I hear something shift about and I look over. I see the snowglobe sitting where I laid it and nothing else.

    I huff and reach into my desk, taking out the pack of cigarettes from inside. I slip one out and inhale, the tip ignites on its own. Smoking really does nothing for me, it’s just when I started, sometime around the 20s, it was more for ambiance. Now it’s just a nervous habit I keep up with.

    I lean back, letting the magazine flips its pages on its own while I smoked. Behind me, the needle slips onto the record player. The soft, warming crackle of the vinyl soothes me. I’ve always been fond of that sound. 

    I sigh, blowing out smoke as Edith Piaf’s voice comes out. “Maxence is doing well. That’s good. He’s still leaking paint I’ll have to see about that.” I tap the ash of the cigarette to the side of me, and it billows up in a whirlwind.

    I then notice something strange with the record. I heard a strange sort of echo. When Edith sings, something sings with it, causing a kind of ringing in my ears. I get up and inspect the old player. I give it a once-over, stopping the record then starting it again. It seems to work, but as soon as I’m back in my chair the echo returns. 

    I huff and get up, doing the same thing to the record player. This time I leave it off and I chew on the tip of my cigarette. “Weird,” I grumble. I then go over to my desk where there is a stack of records. I comb through them and bump into my desk. The snowglobe wobbles and falls off the corner. I grab it just in time and huff.

    “Well,” I grunt. I stand up and give the thing a few good shakes, stirring up the fake snow inside.

    “Oh no!” I hear a small voice.

    My eyes widen, and I look into the glass, I see the small figure inside drift to the base and land there. She adjusts her headdress and dusts away the fake snow, shooing away the flakes with a flick of her wrist. She then turns, bright eyes staring up at me through the glass and she smiles.

    “Hello!” She waves.

    I gasp, and the cigarette drops from my lips, snuffing out before it even touches the ground. “Great scott,” I whisper.

    The woman in the globe stands up and smooths out her skirts. “I was wondering when you would notice me.” She smiles angelically. “I was singing this entire time!”

    “Ah,” I gasp. “So that was you.” I return to my seat and set the snowglobe onto my desk. “Now, just where did you come from?” I ask. “Who sent you to me?”

    She tilts her head. “Were you not expecting me?”

    I chuckle. “Not at all, little lady,” I reach for another cigarette from the box. “I am usually the one who sends strange parcels. You just so happen to be my first.”

    “Oh,” she gasps. “Hmm, I was sure you knew I was coming.”

    I smirk as the cigarette lights. “Are you telling me you sent yourself to me?”

    “No,” she gasps. “I was just certain you’d be expecting me.” She tilts her head again. “That isn’t attractive you know.” She holds her fingers to her mouth as if she is smoking. “It makes you look crass and old.”

    I scowl at her. “Old?”

    She nods. “Rather tacky to smoke just to look cool these days, don’t you think?”

    I smirk at her. “What does it matter to you? You’re just in a glass bubble. The smoke shouldn’t bother you.”

    She shakes her head. “No, it doesn’t,” she quips. “But watching you does.”

    This takes me by surprise, and I chuckle. “Well now.” I take the cigarette from my lips and snuff it out. “Is that better, little lady?”

    “Yes, thank you,” she answers. “You look much more handsome that way.” 

    “I’ve never been flattered by a snowglobe before,” I say as I pick it up to have a closer look at her. “And who might you be?” I ask.

    “Who are you?” She asks. 

    “You can call me Robin,” I reply. “Or at least that’s what I’ve been going by for centuries now.”

    “Oh! Centuries!” She laughs. “No wonder you look old.”

    I tilt the snowglobe slightly, and she slips along the glass. “Don’t poke now, I can shake you remember?”

    She giggles. “I don’t much mind. I do like when the snow falls.” She glances down at the snow that has collected around her feet. She takes a few steps towards the glass and puts her tiny hands out. “I’ve always loved the snow.”

    “Surely not when you get tousled about with it,” I reply as I gently set the tchotchke down on my desk. “I’m glad somebody likes the snow.”

    “Huh?” She gasps. “What do you mean? You don’t like the snow?”

    I smirk down at her. “I won’t answer any questions until you tell me who you are, little lady.”

    “Eira,” she murmurs.

    I furrow my brow and look back at her. “Surely, you must be joking.”

    “Not Shirley, Eira,” she corrects me. “And why would I joke?”

    I may not have the memory that I used to, in fact, my memory is like a quilt with certain patches missing. But I can fondly remember the days when my brother and I still liked each other and played in the snow. Our mothers told us to thank Eir for the fresh snow.

    I chuckle, “never mind.”

    Eira watches me as I get up and turn the music back on. “Are you alone here?” She asks me.

    “Not completely,” I grunt as I sit back down. I prop my feet up on the desk, and she frowns at my socks. “I have my creations here. I have several guests as well. Lots of old friends.”

    “Well then, where are there?” Eira asks looking around. 

    I scrunch up my face and sigh. “It is, a hard thing to describe,” I tell her. “Much like you, some of them have strange forms, or they’re sealed away, waiting for the right moment.”

    Eira furrows her brow. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. Do you keep your friends locked away?”

    I smile to myself. “Not exactly,” I hiss, “on all counts.”

    Eira squints her eyes at me and folds her arms against her chest. “Robin, what on earth are you?” She asks.

    “Something not really here and not really there, my little Eira,” I smile at her and sigh. “A creature in between the cracks.”

    “Must be a tight fit,” Eira murmurs.

    I snort and chuckle, picking her back up. “Can you tell me who or what sent you to me?” I ask, turning the globe around to check all angles. The base is carved wood and painted a deep sapphire blue, matching Eira’s coat. There are small pillars carved into the wood that look like trees, and along the base, there are woodland creatures etched delicately. It looks like a forest with animals.

    Eira walks in a circle to keep in place while I turn the globe. “To be honest, I am not quite sure on that.” She stumbles as I stop my turning and braces herself upon the glass.

    “What can you tell me?” I ask.

    She looks up at me and blinks slowly as the snow around her feet swirls and shifts. “I was told I would be safe where I was going.”

    “But you don’t know you told you?” I sigh.

    Eira shakes her head. “I’m afraid not. My mind is kind of scrambled,” she admits to me. She raises her hands to the side of her head. “It’s like my memories are in fragments and any time I think I get an idea of a memory they get shaken back up again.”

    I watch the little flakes of snow at her feet. “I understand,” I murmur to her.

    She sighs and folds her hands together. “Robin?” She murmurs.

    “Yes, Eira?” I respond.

    “I can stay here, right?” She presses her tiny hands to the glass dome again. “I like it here. I like talking to you. It feels safe.”

    I smile at her. “Of course, Eira,” I murmur. “You can stay here in my shop.” I then pick her up and walk out of my office. A door opens at the end of the hallway, leading into my bedroom. The walls are high here, and there are rafters with creatures rushing about on them, their tiny eyes glowing as they watch us. The walls are covered by shelves, filled with books and trinkets from my many years alive. One wall features a large bay window the overlooks the trees and mountains of my childhood. I set Eira down in the window and stand there.

    “Oh, how beautiful!” Eira gasps.

    “Isn’t it?” I beam. “I always have the best view.”

    Eira turns and looks up at me. “How is this possible?” She whispers, turning back towards the windows and the world beyond them.

    I smirk to myself and run my fingers through my hair. “Anything is possible, my little Eira.”

    I don’t sleep much, I usually just work. I’m also usually alone, so having Eira with me is kind of a treat. I take her around the antique shop, showing her the special items in my collection.

    “Ages ago,” I explain to her. “I was traveling in the Middle East, just making friends, enjoying the food and drink, and I kind of got along well with the Djinns.”

    “The Djinns?” Eira murmurs.

    “They’re magical, godlike creatures,” I answer her. “Spirits, demons, whatever you want to call them. They aren’t much for labels as long as you agree that their magic is the best.” I smile at her as I go through my memories. “Anyways, they were worshipped and loved, but something changed. As most things do,” I sigh sadly. 

    “What happened?” Eira’s voice is soft and sweet.

    “The human heart can turn on a dime so easily,” I murmur. “My friends were taken and trapped. They became locked away as prisoners of their own power.” I glance down, seeing the saddened look on Eira’s face. “So!” I sigh. “I took it upon myself to collect each and every one of them. Somewhere locked away in lamps, others in magical amulets, what have you. It took me quite a while too,” I grunt as I open up a large drawer lined with silk and plush filling that holds five Djinn trinkets. “But I finally got all seven.”

    “But there’s only five,” Eira remarks.

    I grin. “Two have already found homes,” I reply as I take out a bell-shaped urn made of blue glass and brass. 

    Eira furrows her bow. “I hate to be the kind of person who is always asking questions. But-”

    “What am I doing?” I ask for her. “Considering it’s a tiny bit my fault my friends got locked away, I’m making sure to find the perfect people to set them free.” I hold up the urn. “This is Zoba’ah,” I reply. “And I recently just hired a lovely new accountant who is going to find this just laying somewhere.” I grin at Eira as I grow excited about my plan. “I believe she and Zoba’ah are a good match.” I toss the urn into the air, and it vanishes away in a wisp, heading towards the new accountant’s office located in the shop.

    “You’re a matchmaker!” Eira gasps in awe.

    “Not exactly,” I huff. “Well, maybe kind of. I did get a taste for it ages ago.” I say as I close the drawer on the rest of the Djinns. “I was working for a queen at the time, and these asshole teenagers were running around in the woods whining about love or something. So, to get them to shut up, I gave them a taste of my medicine,” I smirk. “I also gave some poor guy a donkey head, and the queen got the potion, and it was-” I wave my hand and sigh. “Oh lord, I was a mess. My friend Will thought it was extremely funny.”

    “Will?” Eira asks. 

    I shake my head. “Just some guy who turned out to be a dick.” I take her back through the antique shop and hear the key rattling in the lock. “Looks like it’s time to open,” I say, and the ladder falls down from the ceiling again. I hold the snowglobe close as it zips me back up into my workshop.

    Keeping Eira by my side has actually made things feel a bit better. Having her to talk to and showing her my work, I feel more accomplished. I’m not sure why, but it feels nice. She’s sweet and smart, her advice has helped me quite a bit with the dolls I make.

    I don’t mind being alone, but having Eira with me makes things feel much more like home. Sitting with her in the bay window, makes me feel something old and forgotten. Actually, the idea of forgotten makes me feel strange.

    “Tell me Eira,” I say to her one night. “Your memories, what can you remember about yourself? Have you always been in this snowglobe or is this rather new?”

    She shakes her head. “Somedays I feel like I can remember,” she admits. “Other days it feels like they are buffeting on the winds, too hard to capture and too far away.” She sighs and leans against the glass, pulling her knees to her chest. “I try to remember, and it all feels like I’m running in circles.” I then notice her eyes look strange, they appear a little puffy and red. She rubs at them, and I feel a part of my heartbreak.

    “Eira,” I whisper, “are you crying?”

    She sniffles and rubs at her eyes more. “Yes,” she hiccups. “I want to remember things so badly! You always talk about the amazing things you’ve done, the lives you’ve lived, and the worlds you’ve witnessed. I can’t even tell you where I came from!”

    “Oh no, no,” I pick up the globe. “Don’t cry because of that.”

    Eira blubbers a bit more.

    “Oh, my little Eira,” I cup my palm around the glass. “Do not work yourself up so because you feel you have to keep up. I am no one running a race that needs to be matched. I am simply running in circles and kicking up dust.”

    Eira chuckles and rubs her eyes. “I just wish I had one good memory to share with you,” she says. “Because I know I have them. I can feel them, and they are desperate to break free.”

    “Are you not desperate to break free?” I ask. “From this little cell?”

    “I haven’t thought about it,” she murmurs. “I’ve just been enjoying being near you.”

    I smile. “I’ve thought about it,” I confess, and her eyes go wide. “What it would be like to have you out here, with me.”

    “Robin,” her voice is so soft and lovely.  

    My phone rings and I grumble. “On second, Eira,” I answer the blasted thing. “Hello?” I ask. “Who?” I scrunch my face up. “Oh! The accountant yeah...what? What do you mean genie? I dunno,” I turn to Eira with a smirk and a wink. “If it is a genie-like in the Disney movie then have him do some celebrity impersonations and get some wishes granted.”

    Eira grins, and I feel my heart start to pound. “Well if you found something in the shop you may have to pay for it….hello?” I chuckle and set my phone aside. “She hung up.” I sit back down with Eira and sigh, stretching my legs out in the bay window. Outside, I see it begins to snow. The clouds grow dense, and the thick flakes start to float down to the earth.

    “How can you say you don’t like this?” Eira whispers. 

    “I do,” I mumble. “It’s just-” I feel a sharp pain coursed through my head, and I flinch. I huff and rub my temple and glance back out. The pain shoots through my head again, and I cuss under my breath.

    “Are you ok?” Eira asks. Her eyes then grow wide. “Your ears!”

    I grumble and touch my ears. They’re jutting out from the top of my head. “Oh fuck-” I huff and I double over.

    “Horns!” Eira gasps. “Robin! Robin are you ok?”

    My ears twitch, and I can feel my tail wagging behind me. “Crap uhm…” I give her a half smile and chuckle. “I’m fine, Eira. Just...just one second.” I stand up, and my hooves clop on the wood boards. I go to the mirror and see myself, the real me. I’ve been hiding behind a glamour since I was young, keeping the aspects of myself I hated under wraps. Or well, the parts of me that came from my bitch of a dad.

    “Robin!” Eira calls to me.

    I huff and go back to her. “Sorry, you have to see me like this.”

    Her eyes go wide as she looks up at me. “I know you-” she whispers as he hands press tight against the glass.

    Another sharp pain shoots through my head. “Eira,” I whisper.

    I notice that her hands have gotten bigger, shes standing taller in the snowglobe. The flakes of snow inside the glass are whipping and whirling about in a frenzy. The windows suddenly fly open, snow and ice flood inside and I hear glass shattering.

    “Eira!” I scream, and I rush forward, trying to find her on the ground. Instead, I find a pair of hands. I grasp them, looking through the snow and seeing Eira big, blue eyes. I squeeze her hands tight and pull her forward, wrapping her up in my arms.

    “Robin!” She laughs loudly, tackling me down onto the ground. “I do know you! I know you so well!” She kisses me, long and hard and pressing into me memories I had long since forgotten.

    The snow was my favorite place to be. Every winter I would rush out with my brother, leaping into snowbanks and building houses with it. It was also the place I met her, a beautiful nymph who only came with the winter. Her hair was long and tied back in a single, simple braid. Her skin was rich and ruddy, making her blue eyes shine brighter. 

    I kiss Eira back, gasping for breath and pressing my forehead to her’s. “Eira!” I repeat her name, and she laughs.

    She sits up with me as the snow billows around us. I do not notice the cold, not as long as she is by my side. “Your brother!” She gasps.

    I grimace at the mention of him. “What?”

    She grins and kisses me again. “Your brother was the one who saved me from your father,” she replies. “He kept me safe,” she then shrugs and makes a nervous expression. “Sure, he forgot about me for a while, but I wasn’t strong enough to see you until now.”

    I sigh, kissing her again and running my fingers through her thick hair. “I don’t care,” I grin. “You’re here! I remember! I remember everything! My bitch of a father, my love for you, all those years-” I whisper and shake my head.

    She touches my cheek and wipes away the tears that fall. “It’s ok now,” she says. “We’re together again.”

    I wrap her up in my arms. “I swear on my life, I have always tried to make my father’s life hell, but now I will do everything in my power to undo the things he’s done.” I look back at her face. “He tried to keep you from me all this time, but even my brother could see through that.”

    “Your father wanted the nymphs for his own,” Eira sighs. “He never was one for sharing.”

    “Good thing he never figured out my moms were together behind his back,” I smirk. I then glow as I look at Eira’s beautiful face. “Stand up! Let me see you again!”

    We rise from the floor, and I look at Eira. She’s short with wide hips and thick legs, but her waist and chest are considerably small. I used to call her my ‘frozen pear.’ I take her in my arms again, holding her fast.

    “I’ll never lose you again,” I whisper.

    My phone starts ringing again, and I cuss under my breath. “Whoever this is, you better make it fast!” I snap.

    “Aw, it is so nice to know that after all these years, you haven’t changed.” His voice is a complicated mess of feelings for me.

    “Puck?” I ask.

    “Did you receive my gift?” He asks. “I’m guessing by the snowstorm you’ve finally gotten poor Eira out. How is she? I do hope she’s ok.” His voice is sincere but also a little taunting.

    “Puck,” I’m not sure how to respond to him. Part of me wants to rip him limb from limb while the other wants to cry at his feet in thanks. “This means the world to me.”

    “I know,” Puck sighs. “I...get you now,” he murmurs. “That feeling of love and...desperation to save someone.” He huffs and sounds as conflicted as I do. “I hate to play this game, but…”

    “A favor for a favor?” I say, cutting him off. “No, I figured that once Eira mentioned you.”

    Eira comes up beside me, putting her hand on my shoulder.

    “I wouldn’t normally ask that,” Puck says. “But I may need you in the future, and I don’t want any fight about it. So when I need you, it’s instant.”

    “I know,” I whisper. “Until then, Puck.” I hang up my phone and turn to Eira whose eyes are wide. “It was just my brother.”

    She smiles softly and touches my cheek again. She kisses me softly. “I know,” she whispers to me.

    I pull her back into my arms and nuzzle to her hair, breathing in her wonderful scent. “Tell me, my love, what is it you would like to do now?”

    “Could we dance?” She asks. She then turns to the bay window as snow continues to pour inside. “Back home,” she points towards the forest and mountains.

    I sigh and take her hand, and she pulls me to the windows. “I would like that very much.” 

    She climbs onto the window, stepping out and setting her feet into the snow. She glides us down through the clouds and ice until we step down on solid ground. I feel strange being here, as much as I look out over it, I haven’t been home in quite a long time.

    Eira beams, stretching out her hands and catching the snowflakes. “Isn’t it beautiful? Nothing has changed in all this time.”

    “Except everything,” I whisper as I take her hand again. Music starts to play around us, the same Edith Piaf record from my office. She grins and lays her head on my chest, swaying with me as the snowstorm clears a path for us.

    I hold her in my arms and watch as the world goes by. Ages ago, we had danced like this often until my father, in his crazy jealousy, ripped us apart. I don’t know what he did to Eira, but he took my memories of her. He was so jealous and angry that he even wouldn’t allow me to hold a memory of her that he didn’t possess. So he took them and kicked me out of my home. This was before I even had my fight with Puck. I suppose he planned that too.

    Eira and I go to visit my mothers. They’re still the same, still beautiful, still totally in love. They cry when they see Eira, and they hold her tight. They had been so sure that my father had killed her in his rage. 

    Once upon a time, my mothers had been worshippers of my father. They had slept with him and grew pregnant with my brother and me. But during that time, they also learned that my father was not the deity that thought he was and they grew close. They fell in love and raised Puck and me together. It had always been a happy home but a tense one. There was always fear that our father would find out. But he was so wrapped up in himself he never even assumed the two women could love one another. He was afraid they loved other men, and this caused him to lash out at those men, but he never assumed the two women loved each other.

    “It is so wonderful to see you, Robin!” Echo says, kissing me all over. “You and your brother are horrible children!”

    “Now, now,” Syrinx sighs. “They’re growing children. They need their space. When they need a mommy, they’ll come running right back to us.”

    Echo pouts and clings to me. “Still! I need my boys, what am I supposed to do.”

    “Now that Eira is back she can keep him in line,” Syrinx smiles. “Won’t you?”

    Eira nods. “I promise. I will. I want to come home as much as possible.” She sighs dreamily. “I feel so good just being here!”

    Echo elbows me in the side. “See?” She smirks.

    “Do you two want to stay a little longer?” Syrinx asks.

    Eira shakes her head, much to my surprise. “We’d love to, but I’m afraid we have a lot of catching up to do.” She takes my hand and squeezes it. “I’d like to go back to the shop for the evening.”

    Echo lunges out and grabs her other hand. “Are you talking grandchildren?”

    “Dear!” Syrinx snaps. 

    Eira glows as she beams. “Maybe soon, Mama Echo,” she replies and looks up at me. “For now, I just want to be close to Robin again.”

    “Don’t say any more,” Syrinx says as she pulls Echo back. “You better go before she starts listing the names she’s picked out.”

    I kiss my mothers goodbye and Eira, and I climb back into the window. I shut them, and the fireplace lights behind me. I turn around, seeing Eira is already posed on my bed.

    “Now,” she sighs and fluffs a pillow. “Where were we?”

    I grin and jump into bed, tackling her and pinning her down into the pillows. “You know, now that you’ve said that in front of my mother, she’s going to be nonstop about the grandchildren.”

    Eira smirks. “We’ll figure that out later,” she winks. “For now, I just want to hear the beating of your heart again.”

    I smile softly at her. “It only beats for you Eira. All the time without you and forever onward. It is your heart.” 

    “I know, love,” she whispers.