Author's Notes: Happy Christmas Readers! I've been wanting to write a little one-off, just to show where everyone is in the future, and what better way to do it than a Christmas Special? Never fear, I am not giving up on Outcast at all, and Lorel will have her story as well some day, but this is my Christmas present to you. It will only be about four chapters long and I plan to have it done before the holiday. Thank you for reading!


Fifteen Years After the Events of Scepter

If his knees were not always so eager to remind him of the chill of midwinter, then the cold air seeping in around the windows was always happy to. Elforen stuffed sawdust in around the worst of the cracks, trying in vain to keep the temperature of the house up. He needn't worry about it tomorrow: there would be so many people in the small house that their body heat alone would warm it. Tonight though still promised to be cold. Leaving the windows be, he checked the low fire burning in the cast iron stove in the center of the house. It was letting off a good deal of heat at least, and although chill still gathered in the farthest corners, it wouldn't be too uncomfortable. The stack of wood next to the stove was getting a little low though. He'd have to chop some more in the morning.

In all the years since they had lived in this house, he had made it his nightly routine to check in on each member of the household before retiring himself. It was a leftover from days in the army: you make sure your surroundings are safe and secure before rest. It was late, well after the early sundown of winter, and the house was mostly quiet. All residents had hidden themselves away from the chill night air and were preparing for a long day tomorrow.

There was a light glowing on the floor outside of his eldest daughter's bedroom, and he traversed the kitchen to check in on her. The kitchen itself had been thoroughly scrubbed from top to bottom today, and last-minute runs to town had stocked it with groceries for the meals tomorrow. He side-stepped a large pumpkin sitting on the floor and peered his head into Brekke's room.

Brekke was wrapped up in her comforter on her bed, engrossed in a book. Her long blue hair was down and loose around her shoulders, and she completely ignored him when he stepped inside. For a moment nostalgia gripped him. It could have been ten, fifteen years ago and the scene would be nearly the same. There were a few differences though: for one, his little girl, the tiny baby he could comfortable carry around in the crook of one arm, born in the dead of winter only a few months from now, was a tall, gangly young woman with years of druid training and a compassionate heart. She had closely resembled his younger brother as a child, but she was looking more like Zarabethe every day. The book in her lap was not a book of mythology or fairy tales, but a thick medical tome. She spoke to him without looking up from her reading.

"I can hear you there, Dad."

He snorted and crossed his arms as he leaned against the door frame. "Books away, time for bed."

She turned a page before replying. "I'm an adult now, Dad."

"Still my house, Brekke."

She finally looked up at him, twisting her mouth in irritation. She closed the book with a sigh and laid it on top of a stack near the bed. Her tiny hippogryph hatchling, a gift from her mother on her first away mission, was snuggled down into her nest next to the books, and she cracked an eye and made a soft cawing sound. Brekke leaned over and smoothed the plumage on top of her head.

"Hope disagrees with you."

"Hope doesn't pay for the candles." Elforen leaned away from the wall and glanced around the room as he walked in. Brekke's things were scattered around her old bed, but Genne was nowhere to be found, nor was the cot out of storage yet. "You girls can be in separate rooms tonight, but you tomorrow you'll need to share space. Everyone will be here and we all have to squeeze in."

Brekke made a face. "I know."

She pulled the comforter entirely off the bed, wrapping up in it like a cocoon. It was one that Zarabethe had made, he noted with a fond smile, and the corners were embroidered in green. Brekke drew her knees up under the blanket, and Elforen was caught for a moment in the flux of time. His eldest daughter. The wide-eyed toddler that demanded to go see horses at the fair then screamed when they got near her. The inquisitive child who tried to save beetles and butterflies, then later birds and lizards and once an injured wolf pup. The adolescent with a pale face who had gone with her aunt to her first druid lesson, and had been so scared she had thrown up afterward. Her eyes had been mostly silver then, not the gold with silver edges that they were now. The determined night elf who had gone into her trials earlier this year with trembling hands and nearly forgetting everything she had ever learned. She had walked in a scared child and emerged a confident adult.

Wrapped up in a blanket on her old bed, it was difficult for Elforen to imagine that time had passed at all, and that she and her sister were still small enough that he could haul them both around on his shoulders at the same time and swing them in the air to make them squeal. Certainly not a grown up druid that had taken over most of the cooking tomorrow and was putting herself through medical school.

"When's Aunt Lorel coming?"

Brekke was immune to his reminiscing and continued the conversation.

"Sometime around noon. You know how Lorel is with time. They're leaving in the morning though, and you know she won't miss a meal."

Brekke's face very closely resembled her mother's as she counted off a list in her head.

"We'll need to start the fire around dawn. Did Mother find the pomegranates or do I need to go into town first thing?"

"No, she found them."

She turned to lay down in bed and he smoothed the comforter down around her as he used to do when she was little and still needed to be read to sleep every night.

"It's good to have you home for the holiday, pumpkin."

She looked up at him, and even with her face upside down he could see her arch her eyebrow and smirk.

"You're not going to cry on me, are you Dad?"

"Of course not." Because that wasn't why his voice was rough at all. "I just need you to help keep track of your sister. Where is she, anyway?"

Brekke was already reaching for the book she had laid down beside the bed. "Last I saw her she was out at the forge."

"Still?" He frowned at the window as if it would suddenly show him that it wasn't full dark and frigid cold. He moved to blow the candle out beside Brekke's bed and she stopped him with one hand.

"Good night, Dad."

He glanced into the other bedroom just in case before heading out the back door. It was empty, and Genne hadn't done anything to clean it today. She'd have to be on the ball tomorrow morning. Bracing himself, he unlatched the back door and pushed it open. The winter wind grabbed it and tried to slam it against the house, and he closed it forcefully before starting down the rock path.

"Genne!" He called her name as he stomped his feet out to the shop behind the house. He regretted not going back to the front closet to grab his cloak, but it was too late now. He hunched his shoulders against the wind and made his way quickly to the shop. He could barely see the orange glow of a dying fire as he quickly slipped in the door before it could be grabbed by the wind as well. He stood for a moment, stomping his feet and rubbing his hands together. At least it was warm in here.

"Time to shut it down, Genne, it's late."

"I'm done now!" Genne called out from across the room. As his eyes adjusted to the low light he could see the night elf sloppily pushing a broom against the floor. Her work goggles were around her neck, and there were twin clean rings amidst her soot-covered face. Her short blue hair was sticking out all over the place, and inwardly Elforen groaned at her appearance. It didn't matter that his younger daughter was nearly an adult herself, and just a few years out from her trials, he'd still have to put his foot down and make her take a proper bath before guests arrived tomorrow. He started forward to help her clean up and tripped over a pile of a debris on the floor. He turned in a slow circle as he realized just how impossibly filthy she had gotten the forge in the short time she'd been out here.

"Genne! What on Azeroth have you been doing out here?"

"Uh, making Winter's Veil presents?" She picked up a piece of scrap and lobbed it at the bin. She missed, and it made a horrendous noise as it bounced around in the growing dark. Elforen pinched his nose. Even with his help, there's no way they could get it clean in the dark. At least she had closed the vents properly and taken care of the fire. He scooted some debris with his foot to the center of the room.

"Did you use every single piece of equipment in here?"

His younger daughter's voice came back to him all in a rush as she tried to cover up how big of a mess she had made.

"Well I was just gonna finish up Winter's Veil presents, only I realized the first batch looked like shit, so I-"

"LANGUAGE, Genne." The response was so automatic there was no force behind it.

"-okay the first batch sucked, so I kind of had to redo everything but I'm done now, I'm cleaning up, see?"

Her cleaning efforts did seem sincere, if ineffective. He sighed and shook his head.

"Alright, just hurry it up and go to bed. You have to clean yourself up too, and you still have to get up early and clean your room."

He thought he heard another muffled curse as he left the shop, but he let it slide. He hurried back into the house, shutting the door behind him and rubbing warmth back into his arms.

"Lights out, Brekke," he called out as he walked past her still lit room. He heard a belligerent "Fine," before the glow faded from the doorway.

Genne would be in soon, Brekke was in bed, everything else was ready. He paused before the door of his own bedroom. Zarabethe was curled up in a chair with a blanket and a pile of thread. He watched as she squinted in the candlelight and threaded a needle with bright red thread.

"Lights out, Zara," he said half-heartedly.

"That doesn't work on me," she said without looking up. She started in on the design, making delicate, tiny stitches. "Are the girls in bed?"

"For the most part. Brekke's still reading and Genne's made an unholy mess in the shop. I'll have to clean it again tomorrow morning." He stretched and sat down on the bed across from her. He watched her sewing for a few minutes, bright red threading in between the tiny flecks of orange that were already there. He laid a hand on her outstretched foot to get her attention. "Are you going to be long here?"

"Um..." Zarabethe made an indecisive noise under her breath, then tied off the red thread. She unfolded the blanket and Elforen could see the brilliant splash of color embroidered at the bottom of it. It was a fat golden sun, rising against water, and the entire thing looked like a work of art.

"I couldn't decide what to make until this afternoon. Thankfully I'm almost done." She refolded it until she got to the corner she was working on.

"Do you think Mae will like it?" she said around the needle held in her teeth. She dug around in her basket until she found the maroon thread.

"Mae will love it. Although I think she might prefer it if you made a muzzle for Kalibose."

Zarabethe snorted in laughter, nearly losing her needle. She threaded it, then continued her stitching.

"Well, it's a thick blanket. She can suffocate him with it."

Elforen chuckled to himself as he kicked his boots off under the bed. He climbed into bed and pulled the blankets up to his chin, finally starting to warm back up from his venture outside. He watched his wife sew for a bit, her fingers deftly moving the needle back and forth. She had gotten quite good at it, and when she got in the rhythm of it the stitches seemed to sew themselves.

"Are you going to be okay tomorrow, with everyone here in the house?"

"Sure." Zarabethe's voice was muffled as she held the needle in her teeth and dug out a dark purple spool. "And if I'm not, I'll just go hide in Brekke's room and play with Hope."

"Try not to hide all day, if you can help it."

Zarabethe took the needle out of her mouth and stilled her hands. "In all seriousness, I am so happy to see everyone together I'm not worried about my anxiety at all. I might even share my tea with your foul-mouthed brother."

She returned to stitching, adding shadows of dark purple to the sunrise. "That is if he and Lorel manage to not get into a fist-fight."

"They better not." Elforen frowned as he scooted further under the blankets. He was used to getting up at dawn, but it would still come soon, and he now had the shop to clean along with everything else. He heard a muffled slam from the back of the house as Genne finally came inside, and he yelled to her without getting up.

"Lock the door!"

There was irritated muttering, and stomping footsteps, before he heard the click of the bolt sliding back into place. Elforen listened as she clomped into her room, then back out and into the bathing room.

Zarabethe glanced up as she switched thread color again. "Are you sure that's Genne that came in? She's getting in the bath without someone dragging her."

Elforen snorted to himself as he rolled away from the candle light. "Well whoever they are, at least they will be clean. Come to bed soon, Zara?"

"Pretty soon."

Her voice was muffled and distracted again, and he pulled the blanket over his head before quickly sliding into sleep.