Hibernation

Germaine didn't notice it had gotten colder: outside she moved around a lot, and alcohol always kept her warm. But she did notice that the fields had been cleared, the leaves had almost completely fallen, and Gumillia was very diligently preparing for something.

A couple of weeks ago, she had asked to use the guest room to hibernate there. Germaine didn't know what hibernation entailed. Neither did Leonhart. Ney was too busy at the palace to even learn about it.

In any case, no one objected.

Gumillia was acting strange, but no stranger than usual. She kept stuffing food from the forest and from the table into her cheeks to hide somewhere, wouldn't let anyone into the guest room, refused to spend the night at Germaine's room. Germaine wasn't offended by this. Well, maybe a little. These things happen—they had never lived together, let alone slept in the same bed, Gumillia couldn't just up and agree in the middle of her preparations. Even if no one knew what she was preparing for.

Today a cool wind was blowing, and Germaine felt it on her skin. Both on the way home and during training, even if it was hard to get cold running back and forth and exercising with a two-handed sword. Anyway, after a hard day in the cold, Germaine was glad to cross the threshold of the house and kick off her shoes. Gumillia and her father should have been home—Germaine went further and found him in the main hall. Leonhart was sitting in the main hall with a book in his hands. With age, he increasingly chose "senile" activities, but Germaine still couldn't bring herself to seriously call him an old man.

"So how are things here?" Germaine approached the armchair, smiling.

"We're fine, but there was something, I'll tell you later. Why are you so early?" Leonhart put down the book.

"The guys didn't want to go drinking," Germaine chuckled. "So what happened here?"

"Your girlfriend and I had a fight," Leonhart said calmly. Germaine felt a heaviness in her chest. "That silly girl was hauling grain from the cellar for some reason! I told her that if she needed something, she should just ask, she's so small, I don't mind, but did she have to go rummaging and stuffing her cheeks..."

"She always does that," Germaine interrupted him. It was hard to contain herself from nerves. "Oh. Did you sort it out?"

"Of course. She's calm, and I can't stay angry at her, but you'd have to think of it... That grain could be ground into porridge, made into bread, brewed into beer, but she has to eat it raw. Or whatever she's going to do with it, perform rituals? She said it was supplies."

"Well, okay," Germaine exhaled. "I'll talk to her, maybe I'll find out more."

After chatting a bit more with her father, Germaine went upstairs, where her thrifty girlfriend currently lived. Germaine couldn't say that Gumillia's behavior frightened her. In her life, she had seen quite a few oddballs—Prince Alexiel was certainly one of them, Ney was also different from what Germaine was used to, she had even crossed paths with mages. And she was grateful that Gumillia was nothing like Elluka Clockworker.

With these thoughts, Germaine knocked on the guest room door. Not immediately, but Gumillia's round face appeared in the doorway.

"You came," she said, before Germaine could even greet her. "We need to say goodbye."

"You're moving out already?" The smile disappeared from Germaine's face.

"I'm going into hibernation," Gumillia blinked. "We won't see each other... for a long time. Until warmth."

"Is that something magical?" Germaine scratched her chin. "Can I at least see? Let's sit together one last time, since you won't come out for a long time."

Gumillia's words seemed very incomprehensible to Germaine. She would have laughed and said it was nonsense if anyone else had talked about hibernation, but... Mages had their quirks. Germaine didn't know anything about them, except for the adventure books Leonhart had read to her and Ney in childhood.

Gumillia stood silent, giving Germaine time to think about this.

"Alright. But. Don't touch anything." Gumillia's tone didn't change, but to Germaine she seemed very formidable. As formidable as someone who barely reaches your shoulder can be.

Gumillia opened the door, letting Germaine inside. As soon as she entered, the door slammed shut immediately, as if she were truly being let into a mage's secret hideout.

Indeed, the guest room had transformed into one. It was clean and tidy—her father's friends hadn't left it that way—except for the huge nest on the floor. Gumillia had taken the blanket and mattress from the bed and made a storage depot in them. There were leaves, pieces of moss, twigs, acorns and other nuts whose names Germaine didn't remember, a handful of the grain that had caused the quarrel, even some dried bread and meat. Gumillia liked to gnaw on both, so Germaine was surprised she had saved them rather than eating right away.

"Don't come near," Gumillia reminded, as Germaine took a couple of steps forward and leaned in to get a better look at the supplies.

"I won't take anything from you!" Germaine promised.

The nuts, grain, and other treats that had surely already been in Gumillia's mouth didn't look very appetizing. The leaves and twigs even less so. But Germaine didn't want to offend her girlfriend.

"Right. You should. Obey your elders."

Germaine couldn't help but chuckle. Gumillia didn't look much older, but since she always insisted on it... What if she was a forest fairy who had lived for thousands of years? Her nest left no room for doubt.

Snow had fallen in the morning. Germaine looked out the window and thought that Gumillia must really possess forest magic, since she knew about it and had arranged to hibernate right now. Was she really sleeping? Germaine passed by her room and thought about it, but didn't dare knock.

The answer wasn't long in coming: when Germaine had almost finished breakfast and was about to run off to training, Gumillia silently came downstairs and appeared in the dining room. She was disheveled, puffy, only in her nightgown, crumpled from sleep. To Germaine's surprise, Leonhart reacted to this completely calmly.

"Good morning, Lady Gumillia! Will you have breakfast?" he smiled.

Gumillia rubbed her eyes and yawned without covering her mouth.

"Now. Snow, but. I woke up," Gumillia mumbled. "Something... is happening."

"Good morning. Hibernation didn't work out?" Germaine asked sympathetically.

Not noticing this herself, she had begun to take the matter quite seriously. And how could she not—Gumillia was so sleepy and small, and was surely upset that she hadn't managed to sleep, even if her face didn't show it.

"No," Gumillia shook her head.

"I'd help, but they'll tear my head off if I'm late. Let's figure it out tonight, okay?" Germaine suggested, hastily getting up from the table. "Dad, can you handle things here without me?"

"No problem," Leonhart promised.

The day dragged on slowly. Much as Germaine enjoyed training and chatting with friends, she constantly thought about Gumillia and how her sleep hadn't worked out. Germaine worried a lot about something she hadn't even understood a couple of days ago.

So she felt immense relief when she finally came home, went to her father in the main hall, and found out that Gumillia was alright. She had eaten, drunk, but mostly sat in her room and, as Leonhart described, was very grumpy and sleepy.

"I hope you didn't quarrel," Germaine clasped her hands in front of her, as if she were about to be scolded like a child.

"No! Why do you sigh like that, Lady Gumillia isn't the worst neighbour! You need someone interesting, now that Ney is grown up and gone to work!" Leonhart laughed. "Want to have a little drink with dinner?"

Germaine smiled. She knew very well what "a little" meant to her father.

"Maybe. I'll check on Gumillia first. Thanks for putting up with us all!" with these words, Germaine ran upstairs. Leonhart didn't even have time to shout that it would be much worse for him alone in the house.

Upstairs, Germaine knocked on Gumillia's door. She soon appeared in the doorway, already dressed and not as rumpled as in the morning.

"Hi! Still can't sleep?" Germaine asked.

"No. I thought of something. Let's. Sleep in. Your room," Gumillia suggested impassively.

"Really?" Germaine hadn't expected these words to make her cheeks burn. "I offered, but I'm not forcing you, i-it's not necessary at all..."

"Yes. But. I thought of something," Gumillia repeated.

Germaine could only agree. After all, she wasn't against it at all.

As always in such cases, Germaine stayed up until dark, drinking "a little" alcohol with her father. She helped him get to bed and was heading to her own room when she remembered that she and Gumillia had agreed to sleep together.

In the corridor, Germaine almost screamed when she saw a small figure standing by her door.

"You came," Gumillia stated. She was holding some kind of bundle that seemed to Germaine larger than Gumillia herself.

"Y-yes... Sorry, we stayed up late... Sorry, what an idiot I am, gods," Germaine began to mumble.

"No. I'm fine. Waited. You smell," Gumillia sniffed the air. "Alcohol. But. Fine. Let's go."

"How awful," Germaine sighed, entering the room with Gumillia.

Germaine was drunk enough not to control her speech, but not so drunk as to not understand what was happening at all. She knew perfectly well that she and Gumillia were going to sleep in the same bed. And it was wonderful!

Germaine undressed down to her nightgown, lay down on the bed as Gumillia said, and waited. Her bed was quite large—her father had ordered it back when Germaine was a teenager. She had grown very quickly, so he decided to get a bed with room to spare, and it came in handy: now it could accommodate someone else very small. Like Gumillia.

Gumillia lay down with her belongings—it turned out to be her blanket, which, judging by the sounds, had something hidden inside. Gumillia lay with her back to Germaine, pressed against her, and hugged the blanket tightly, clamping it between her legs—as if Germaine or someone else might take it away. But Germaine just covered them with her blanket and hugged Gumillia herself.

"I'm like. In a hollow. I'm warm. And cramped," Gumillia mumbled.

Germaine was too drunk and sleepy to realize how strange that comparison was.