text: Holly paces before the great hall’s doors, wringing her silver-gloved hands. She knows she should be admiring the festive decorations her team managed to scrounge up in the days since she came up with this plan. But Holly can’t stop thinking of the last Christmas she and her siblings spent together. It was the first family Christmas since her mother’s passing. The holiday season following the death of her father had been more of a celebration; there were inheritance gifts, after all. But without their dear mother to keep the peace, the last gathering ended in disaster and started a war. The War that has raged on for thirteen long years. The War that has claimed many of the lives of Holly’s beloved subjects. One of Holly’s workers, Jane, comes from the kitchen with the final dish -- Shep’s favorite cheesy potatoes -- as the bell tower rings the hour. Holly takes a shaky breath and inspects the great hall one last time. Mismatched ivory candles hang like icicles from the ceiling, dripping globs of wax onto polished bronze candlesticks. The old tinsel draped over the walls has seen better days, but it still refracts the candlelight and sets the cavernous room sparkling. Though it’s undressed, the pine tree in the far corner is the largest Holly’s workers could find on her lands. A cornucopia of fake but beautifully wrapped presents sits beneath it. The centerpiece is the long table where Holly’s family used to enjoy all their Christmas feasts. It is laden with her siblings’ favorite holiday foods, sans any troublemaking chocolate pies, of course. “Do you think it’s enough?” Jane asks. “Not for their lavish tastes, but it will do them good to see the toll this foolish war has taken.” When Jane’s face falls, Holly adds, “But I think it’s lovely. My mother would’ve thought so, too.” The bell tower rings again, announcing her first guest. Holly shoos Jane to retrieve the champagne and pastes on a smile as the great hall doors open. Her eldest brother Ebenezer marches in wearing a gold sword and matching cape, which he whips behind him with a flourish. His boots clack against the marble floor, and the badge pinned to his breast designating him as the current “winner” of the War glints in the candlelight. “How fitting to see you standing in dear mother’s place!” He says by way of greeting. “Merry Christmas, Ebenezer. It’s good to see you.” Ebenezer places two forceful kisses on Holly’s cheeks. “How are you, dear sister? Did you take any casualties last week when my army spanked yours? Ha!” Holly doesn’t let her smile falter, but she does grab a glass from the tray Jane brings around. “As mentioned in my invitation, your presence means you agree not to talk of the War until cocktail hour is over.” “I take it there were many casualties, considering the deflection?” Ebenezer booms with laughter when Holly’s smile slips. He pats her on the back, but Holly thinks his pats have always felt more like blows. “Only joking, sister! Now, where is my chocolate pie?” Holly chokes on her champagne. “Joking again! You must learn to lighten up, sister! So many rules.” He turns to snap at one of her workers. “Servant! Bring me something stiffer than this sparkling stuff, won’t you?” Then he heads toward the tree, wondering aloud if the gifts are real. Holly lets out a breath and sucks in another. The bells ring again. She puts her smile back in place. Cocoa is speaking to someone in her two-way mirror as she strolls through the great hall’s doors. She clearly didn’t read the memo about wearing metal colors. Her fur jacket looks like it’s made of unicorn hair, a rainbow of hues covering her from head to heeled toes, and colorful gems and jewels encrust her towering shoes. “I don’t care how much Shep’s soldiers taunt them,” she says into her mirror. “Holly has called for a holiday truce, and I refuse to be the only one who does not participate.” A muffled voice replies. Cocoa sighs. “I don’t know. Tell them to fight each other for all I care. I’ve got to go.” Holly’s youngest sibling removes the bright pink sunglasses concealing her bloodshot eyes. “Merry Christmas, little sister.” Holly holds out her arms. Cocoa brushes past her. “Must I remind you again not to call me little in public?” “We’re in our family home,” Holly says. “Hardly public.” Cocoa swipes a glass of champagne and puts it back in one go. She scowls. “Could you not spring for the good stuff? I am very much of the opinion that champagne should never be aged. And this...” She sniffs the empty glass and scowls again. “This certainly is overripe.” “You may recall that you hold possession of the vineyard lands these days. If you want better wine when you visit, perhaps you should grant me some of my old territories back.” “It seems you haven’t gotten sweeter with age either.” She squints at me. “Are those wrinkles, sis?” Holly’s hand flies to the frown lines that have formed around her mouth since the start of the War. She seems to be the only of her siblings on whom the War has taken a toll. She hopes Cocoa won’t see the gray hairs, too. “And you used mom’s old decorations?” Cocoa bats away a piece of tinsel, sending up a plume of dust in its wake. She coughs. “This is simply tragic!” Ebenezer returns from his fake-gift-inspecting duties. “Will there not be real gifts?” He asks. “Mother always had gifts.” Holly gestures toward Cocoa. “Say hello to our sister, E.” “Yes, yes, hello.” Ebenezer gives Cocoa air kisses but refuses to look her in the eyes, turning back to Holly. “Now, about those gifts.” Cocktail hour ends, and, in his usual fashion, Shep has yet to arrive. Ebenezer and Cocoa have taken to opposite ends of the great hall. Cocoa talks to her two-way mirror by the broad windows revealing the snowy landscape beyond while Ebenezer instructs Holly’s workers on how to act more like the servants they aren’t. Holly stands from where she’s been sulking and rings her mother’s old bell. Recognizing the sound, Ebenezer and Cocoa start for the table. Ebenezer arrives first, of course. “At last! I’m so starved I was about to eat your servants!” He laughs at his joke before taking up a seat at the table’s head. Holly clears her throat. “You are sitting in my chair, Ebenezer.” “But the head of the table is where I belong,” he says. “Father always said so.” “This is my home now,” Holly reminds him. “Then sit over there.” He gestures to the other end of the table. “Coaks, back me up here. It’s the least you can do.” “Yeah.” Cocoa kicks up her feet on the table. I cringe when a jewel comes loose from her shoe and plops into the cranberry jelly. “Whatever.” Holly sighs. Not wanting to cause a stir (not yet, anyway), she marches to the other end of the table. As soon she sits down, the bell tower rings again. The swirling black hole of chaos that is Holly’s younger brother erupts through the doorway. He, too, ignored the theme and wears his usual black--black suit, black cape, and black leather boots. His cane ticks against the stone floor as he creeps over to us, a flurry of expressions crossing his face. Holly rises to greet him. She is the only one who does. “Merry Christmas, Shep,” Holly says. “I’m glad you decided to come.” He extends the end of his cane to Holly. When she stares at it, he lifts one quizzical brow. Holly thinks he must want her to kiss his cane. She smacks it aside instead. Shep raises both brows. “Interesting.” Holly feels ashamed of letting the annoyance get to her. She should know better than to fall for Shep’s tricks. Shep walks around the perimeter of the table. He pats Cocoa and Ebenezer on their heads when he passes. “Aren’t we too old for duck-duck-goose?” Cocoa asks. Ebenezer waits until the table’s length is between Shep and himself before smacking his knee and jumping to his feet. “You owe me an apology, brother!” “What have I ever done to you?” Shep asks. “You took the first shot!” Ebenezer finally deigns to look at Cocoa. “I wanted to get her back by firing the first shot of the War! But you took it from me!” Shep grins. “I thought that might bother you.” “What kind of brothers would treat their baby sister so?” Cocoa pouts. “You are supposed to be my protectors.” “You lost the right to my protection -- and my love -- after what you did to me!” Ebenezer says. “So dramatic.” Cocoa rolls her eyes. “You could have never survived in my shoes when I got the smallest of father’s territories, the least of father’s attentions, the--” Holly rings her bell again. “Siblings, please. You all agreed to come here in peace.” “Yes, listen to Holly Jolly.” Shep puts his arm around Holly’s shoulders. “Mother did put her in charge of family gatherings.” “And where was Holly’s help when Cocoa stole what was rightfully mine?” Ebenezer glares at Holly. “You used to say the eldest rule the world! I thought that meant you were on my side!” Holly corrects him. “I used to say the eldest rules the world.” Cocoa talks over Holly. “And she always told me sisters should stick together.” “You never much cared to stick together before,” Holly tells Cocoa. But Ebenezer and Cocoa ignore her, devolving into a shouting match over who deserves Holly’s support the most. Holly looks at Shep. He watches Cocoa and Ebenezer with a smug smile. “You’ve been here for five minutes, and look what you’ve done,” Holly says to Shep. “Could you not wait until dessert?” Shep cocks his head. “I see being the loser in this War has changed you, Holly Jolly.” When Ebenezer storms away from the table with a shout for a “servant,” Cocoa butts into the conversation. “Hardly. She is still as spineless as ever.” “Shall we bet on that?” Shep leans across the table, his hand extended toward Cocoa. “I’ll give up my territories with your favorite shops if you win.” “There will be no betting.” Holly softens her words with a smile. “Please.” Cocoa smirks. “See? The same. Like I said.” “Tell the truth!” Ebenezer returns with a glass of whisky and an accusing finger pointed at Cocoa. “I know it was you, you little thief!” “I told you thirteen years ago,” Cocoa says. “It wasn’t me.” “But Shep said it was!” “And to think I regretted blowing your castle to bits for even a moment!” Cocoa says to Shep. “Stop!” Holly rings her bell until the others quit shouting. She turns to Shep. “Did Cocoa eat the first slice of chocolate pie at Christmas thirteen years ago? Tell the truth.” Shep looks each sibling in the eye, his face solemn. Then, he begins to grin. “No, she did not.” Ebenezer goes quiet for once in his life. Cocoa crosses her arms and puts on her sunglasses. “Told you so.” “Then who did eat the slice of pie that started the War?” I ask. Shep’s grin widens. “Why, me, of course.” It takes Holly thirty minutes to break up the ensuing fight. Her chest heaves as she directs her siblings to return to their seats. “Now that Shep has revealed the truth, I hope we can all agree this foolish War should end.” “And give up my lead?” Ebenezer runs a loving finger over his badge. “I think not.” “Agreed,” says Cocoa, pulling out her two-way mirror and glossing her lips. “You only want to quit because you’re losing. But I’ve found I’m quite good at this waging war stuff.” Holly turns to look at her younger brother. She doesn’t know when he managed to fill his plate, but he holds it against his chest, devouring his favorite cheesy potatoes as he watches the drama like a spectator at a game. Holly is glad at least one of her siblings can enjoy the feast her team worked so hard to prepare. “Well?” Holly says to her younger brother. “I would very much like to see what happens if I say, no, I do not agree,” Shep says. “So, no, I do not agree.” Holly deflates. She was hoping for a tie, at least. She has never wished any ill will upon her siblings. But in the thirteen years since they last gathered, Holly has realized her family’s drama is never just family drama. The consequences of their conflicts fall on the backs of their hardworking subjects. It is an injustice her dear mother always turned a blind eye to when their father was alive, but one Holly intends to correct. “Very well,” she says. “If we all must go to war again tomorrow, the least we can do for our dear mother’s memory is to share a dessert tonight.” Holly rings her bell once more, and Jane enters. She carries a chocolate pie. Holly carves the pie into four pieces and dishes them up on the very plates used for that fateful pie thirteen years ago. She places the first piece before Ebenezer like a white flag. “For you, brother,” she says. “I’m sorry I didn’t support your claim to the first slice of pie thirteen years ago.” Ebenezer looks smug as he tucks a napkin into his shirt. “At least one of you has some sense.” Holly retrieves the second slice of pie and brings it to Cocoa. Cocoa’s brows ripple in surprise. “For you, sister,” Holly says. “I’m sorry you always got the last slice of pie growing up.” Cocoa pushes up her sunglasses and gives me a rare smile. “Finally, someone understands my sorry lot in life.” Ebenezer is devouring his pie already, refusing to wait for the others to be served. Cocoa follows his lead. “Doesn’t taste like mom’s,” she says through a full mouth. Holly takes a deep breath and retrieves the third plate of pie. She places it before Shep. “And for you, Shepherd,” she says. “I have always felt we could be friends if you worked as hard to keep the family together as you do to set us at each other’s throats.” “Friends?” Cocoa frowns, licking the last bit of chocolate from her fork. “You didn’t say that to me.” A thud sounds from the head of the table. Cocoa screams, jumping from her chair at the sight of Ebenezer facefirst in the cranberry jelly. Her scream cuts off, and she wobbles on her bejeweled heels before crashing to the floor. Shep starts laughing. Holly sees that he has not taken a single bite of his pie. The doors to the great hall open one last time, admitting a line of Holly’s soldiers. Shep laughs harder. “When did you know?” Holly asks. “The moment you slapped away my cane,” says Shep, “I knew you’d brought us here to end the War, whether we agreed or not.” “Then why did you not agree?” Holly asks. “I admire your plotting, but the war games have grown mundane,” says Shep. “This is just the shakeup I’ve been hoping for, Holly Jolly, though I didn’t expect it from you.” He claps his hands like a child at Christmas. “I have never been so excited for what’s to c--.” Shep’s words cut off as he collapses onto the table. Holly walks over and pats his head. “Silly goose. You should have known there was poison in the food, too.” The soldiers close in and bunch up the tablecloth to dispose of the hazardous feast. Three more soldiers carry away the limp forms of her wicked siblings. Holly picks up her chocolate pie, taking a bite of the one slice her team didn’t poison. She smiles, the first real one in thirteen years, and finishes her piece in peace.