Whenever he loses faith in the world, he'll have to remind himself of this.
After all, if he doesn't remind himself, he'll forget, and forgetting a wonderful night like tonight would be a tragedy.
The snow is falling softly, adding to the white covering the land already posses, and there is no one but them around for miles. Behind him, he knows, the tree is sparkling pristinely, its hundreds of tiny white lights glinting off of tinsel, beads, and a multitude of ornaments, topped by the classic golden star- in this case, a delicately wrought thing with a light of its own inside. A record player- can't knock the oldies- is playing Robert Goulet in the background quietly, which mingles wonderfully with the crackling of the fireplace. There is a smell of cinnamon, ginger, and peppermint in the air from the cookies they (read: he) made earlier, and he can still taste those that he ate on his tongue. Several have been left on a plate, along with a glass of milk, in the name of both tradition and thanking a good friend when he inevitably comes to call later.
Yes, he thinks fondly to himself, this is the best way to spend a Christmas."
"Alfred?" a voice calls from behind him, breaking his reverie.
He turns, grinning warmly at the figure behind him, who's already wearing the loose shirt and lounge pants that serve as pajamas in this house, much as Alfred himself is. "Hey, Iggy," he says calmly- far more calmly than is usual, at least, and that has to count for something. "'Bout ready to head for bed?"
"Don't call me that," comes the immediate, habitual response, something that's long since lost any feeling there may once have been behind it. "And yes, I was just coming to ask you that. Or were you planning on staying up to say hello to Finland?"
Alfred shrugs. "Nah, he'll probably be here pretty late. Might as well just go to sleep now and thank him next time we see him."
"All right," Arthur agrees readily, yawning. "Come on, then," he adds, holding out a hand to Al. "I'm exhausted. It's quite the trip to get out here."
"Worth it, though!" Alfred replies cheerfully, taking the offered hand with a squeeze. "Alaska may be far off, but you can always count on a white Christmas! And it's easy to get to where you're the only living thing for miles, you know? Besides, Deniki always loves visitors; tourism's a big deal for her, you know."
"Yes, it is worth it," Arthur agrees with another yawn as, hand-in-hand, they meander through the house to the bedroom. "But then," he adds more softly, "visiting you always is, you bloody git."
Alfred just smiles.
-x-
Some thousands of miles away, things are not nearly so peaceful.
"What are your brothers doing for the holidays, Raivis?" an excited blonde asks, bouncing around cheerfully in front of the gigantic Christmas tree which dominates the room.
"Eduard is spending them with his people," Raivis replies smoothly, the stupid stutter completely gone here, as it always is when he feels safe, "and Toris is in Poland with Feliks. What about yours?" he adds politely.
"Jerk England is in Alan… Alasp…"
"Alaska," Raivis supplies.
"Yeah, that! Anyway, he's there with America. Denmark and Norway are together, of course. Dunno about Iceland. And you know where Mum and Dad are, of course," Peter finishes with a giggle.
"I think it's sweet your dad's started making the rounds with your mom," Raivis comments, watching affectionately as Peter suddenly trots over to flop down next to him on the couch.
"Yeah," the micronation agrees, smiling over at Raivis. "Plus, now I don't have to watch Dad pine all night. I wish they hadn't taken Hanatamago, though," he adds with a pout.
Raivis laughs quietly. "It does seem a lot quieter around here without her," he agrees.
They laps into silence after that, both warm and content and full of the meal and pastries Tino left them before he, Berwald, and Hana left for their yearly trip. Soon enough, though, Peter begins to yawn and, though he tries to hide it from his boyfriend, Raivis notices right away.
"Come on," he says gently, leaning over to kiss Peter on the cheek. "We should really be in bed."
"Aww, all right," Peter says reluctantly. "Can't we just sleep on the couch though, Rai?"
"Oh, all right," Raivis 'relents' amiably and quickly, really quite happy to just cuddle with Peter here and not move.
In short order, blankets are gathered, couch pillows lumped at one end of the exceptionally comfortable and soft blue, white, and yellow thing the entire family- which, of course, has now expanded to include Raivis- is quite fond of, and the two boys are snuggled up together, Raivis holding Peter to his chest.
Hours later, when Tino and Berwald return, the former will have to deny any sort of girlish squealing at the utter cuteness and running to find his camera.
-x-
Meanwhile, back in North America…
"Birdie!"
The blonde Canadian smiles, turning around partially to glance at his silver-haired lover. "Need something, Gil?" he replies, reaching in front of him to grab a towel with white to dry his hands.
"Just to tell you it's getting late, Vögelchen," Gilbert responds, "especially if you were planning on opening one gift tonight like usual. You can finish the dishes later, you know. The awesome me will even help!"
Matthew smiles again, this time with plenty of enthusiasm, and re-hangs the battered old red dishtowel before turning fully and settling his arms around Gilbert's waist. "Okay," he agrees, pecking his lover of several years on the nose. "Let's go do that, then, hmmm?"
"Yaaaay! Kesesesese," is the only response he gets before Gilbert darts away, just as enthusiastic as any child about the opening of presents.
Matt follows at a more reasonable pace. "Hyper lunatic," he teases fondly as he follows Gilbert into the family room.
"You love it!" the former nation retorts from under the tree.
"Yes, actually."
Gilbert sticks his tongue out playfully. "Sap! And whose present do you want? I can see Cuba's… Quebec's… Manitoba's… here's your idiot brother's, too…"
"You made me this way," Matthew informs him with a blown kiss. "And yours, of course."
Gilbert then flops down next to him, holding out a package wrapped, with surprising skill, in dark blue wrapping paper adorned with sparkly silver snowflakes and a matching silver bow. The box he retains, meanwhile, is custom-made; each and every one of the stylized black eagles had taken Matthew at least half an hour to carefully ink onto the white paper.
"Definitely saving the awesome paper, Matt," he comments, grinning. Matthew flushes slightly and grins back.
"You better, with all the work it was to make that," he pretend-grumbles before leaning in to lightly kiss his Prussian.
"Love you, Gil," he murmurs, leaning his forehead against the albino's. "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, birdie," Gilbert replies.
And to all a good night.
-x-x-x-x-x-
Vögelchen – little bird/birdie
Trois Noëls – three Christmases
…agh, I hate the ending. =w=;; Oh well. Coulda been worse, right?
…eh, well, anyway.
Merry Christmas, Happy (belated) Hanukkah, Merry Kwanza, and a joyous celebration of any other holidays of choice to all of you out there. Have a wonderful holiday!
I didn't really know any Canadian Christmas traditions, so I just went with a fairly widely-used American one… sorry, sorry. Also, speaking of traditions, just about everything in the USUK bit was taken directly from my family's celebrations. Especially the Robert Goulet records… ahem.
Brief mention of my Alaska OC, Deniki, in there as well… her name is a Native Alaskan word meaning "moose". I thought it fitting. (And yes, I can make that stereotype- it's true, and I'm Alaskan (well, currently) myself. So there.)
Anyway! I need to be getting to bed, this AN is very very long and it's almost midnight Alaska time. My parents are about to be hounding me to get on to bed, so I may as well. 'Night, all!
-Dawny