[Sabrina Catherine]: 479.The Book of Martha- Chapter 1

introduction
The fire crackled with a festive glow in the fireplace. The mantel decorated with a row of stockings, in traditional fare. The essence of fresh baked cookies graced the air. A record made its orbit on the player, as tunes of joy, and presents filled the hearts in the room.
There she sat in her rocking chair, counting stiches as she made a scarf for one of the Elves. Her hair of tinsel, eyes green as the boughs on the tree, wrinkles on her face showing part of her age. A stout, strong body that held her together through centuries of work, relaxed, for the first time that night.
It was the Eve of Christmas, and Herr and Frau Kringle were relaxing quietly together, before duty called her husband away, as it did every year. She smiled across to her spouse, and admired every line of his face.
His hair white as the fresh fallen snow outside their home, his eyes still held that cocky spark of youth. His wrinkles were numerous as hers, and he became rounder as he aged.
They had had many, many, many years together, and she was fortunate to spend all that time with her true love. She chuckled softly to herself as she recalled their younger days, and how much they had changed over the years. It was a wonder they lasted like they did, with how they got along when they first met!
“What is it, mein Haustier, my pet, that amuses you so?” Santa inquired.
“Oh, Mein Liebe, I just had a memory pass by, of the lake you pushed me into.” She replied with that twinkle in her eye.
“Now, Martha, I told you I didn’t push you. I tripped.” He retorted lovingly.
She chuckled softly, admiring his handsome, aging face. “Mein Herr, do be careful tonight. Remember to let the reindeer lead. Don’t eat too many cookies, you’ll have no appetite for mine when you return.”
“I know how to drive a sled, Martha.” He grumbled.
“You say that, but we both know it’s only because you’re the only person riding in the sleigh.”
He rose from his chair, his temper beginning to flair. “Martha, do we really have to do this today?” He couldn’t believe her timing, right before he was to shove off.
“You know what today is. I wish you understood that a part of me died that day!” She rose to her feet, fighting back the moisture her eyes.
Exasperated, his face turned crimson like his jacket. “When are you going to stop blaming me for what happened! It was accident! Don’t you realize I lost her too! You were never alone in this, no matter how much you pushed me away! I don’t know how many times, how many centuries, I have to make up for this, but I think I have long since made up for it! I make these deliveries for you! I may have lost a chance at having a child with you, but I can do right with these children!
“You’re so selfish to think that you alone had to endure this! It was my fault it happened in the first place, silly woman! Quite being a fool and giving me all the blame and taking all the woe! It doesn’t work that way!”
In a huff, Santa threw on his coat, and stormed outside, slamming the door behind them.
Dismayed, and near tears, Martha sat back down in her chair, the twinkle of her eye drowning in her sorrow. She gazed upon the mantel, her heart in pieces. The ache of loss fresh on her internal wounds.
As much as the centuries have greyed them, matured them, and allowed them to grow together, there was always that one event between them that would try to drive them apart. No one knew what would befall them on the day they met; a day that was fraught with frustration, and ego. It was a wonder they had eventually fell in love.