Work Text:
Under the Mistletoe
by T'Len
Still smiling about Sam's idea decorating the whole camp with mistletoes I went around the corner of the pueblo and stopped surprised. On a tree, that stood at the edge, climbed some children decorating it with colorful volumes, fruits and obviously anything more that they had been able to find and that was somewhat colored.
A Christmas tree? Here in middle in the Indian pueblo? Had Sam more brought more of our German traditions to the he Apaches then the British mistletoe?
I saw that Winnetou stood at the foot of the tree and gave orders to the children. As eh saw me he stepped to me.
"Scharlih, my brother, do you like the tree? " he asked.
"Yes", I nodded. "However I don't understand why? Has Sam Hawkins told you of our customs."
"Klekih-Petra told Winnetou years ago how people in his homecountry celebrate the birth of the Christ."
Yes, of course, I should have thought of this. The German medicine man had been Winnetou's teacher in many things.
"Winnetou thought, it would please his brother. Winnetou wish that Scharlih feels well with us."
"That would also be without such an effort, Winnetou," I assured him and looked into his dark eyes, whose brightness reminded me suddenly of my won characteristic anticipation on the Christmas day as I was a child. My family hadn't been rich at all, but at Christmas we always had a special meal and a little tree. My parents saved money the whole year for this day and always were rewarded with the evident joy of their children.
Although it wasn't for the first time, that I did spent Christmas far from home the memories of my family new made my heart ache. And now Winnetou tried to give me a Christmas how he thought that it appropriate for my tradition and religion. I surely was deeply flattered.
"I thank my brother," I said I and noticed that my voice sounded somewhat belaid.
Winnetou's eyes brightened even more. "My brothers joy is also Winnetou's joy," he assured me, then added: "But Winnetou does not understand the custom that Sam Hawkins uses. He had never heard of this."
"The mistletoes?" I asked and he nodded.
"That is not a German custom, its one from England," I explained. "Who stands with someone else under the mistletoe must pick a berry and kiss the other."
"Kiss?" Winnetou repeated.
"Yes," I confirmed. "Sam wanted to use this tradition to kiss Kliuna-Ai."
"Kiss." Smiling Winnetou looked upwards. "Winnetou and Scharlih are now standing under a branch of the mistle," he firmly explained.
"What?" I follow his gaze and actually over us, at the end of the pueblo, was a mistletoe. Should I explain Winnetou that this custom was thought for man and woman? But who did actually say that two men couldn't kiss, too.
At the same moment we both solved our gaze from the branch and looked the other one for a long moment deeply in the eye. Then I stretched my hand out and picked one of the white berries.
End