For Shadow. Merry Christmas, and here's some snow! (Just in case you never got any XD)

Memories of a Christmas Past

Thud.

"…K- Kratos?"

Thud.

"…Hm?"

Thud.

"I'm freezing."

Thud.

"Hm."

Thud.

A sigh.

Thud.

"Can't you be a little more sympathetic?"

Thud.

"….No."

Thud.

"…"

Thwack.

A series of sharp cracks echoed in the frosty air, and were followed shortly by a loud thwump as a massive pine was felled, pulled down to the white earth by the force of its own weight. As the rustling of branches stilled, the forest grew quiet once more save for the harsh chattering of teeth belonging to a very impatient young man.

"…Are you sure that's going to fit on the sled?"

"No."

"M-maybe we should've picked a smaller one?"

"Mm."

Lloyd walked closer to the fallen pine, snow crunching under his boots. The swordsmen now stood side-by-side, each considering the sight before them.

"Well, what d'you think?"

A sidelong glance.

"The decision is yours. It was not I who manifested the notion that we should hold with this absurd tradition."

"Alright, alright. I guess we'll take this one. I'd probably freeze into an icicle waiting for you to chop down another one anyway.

"Indeed. Perhaps it would be best if you push the sled alone, then. I'm sure the exercise would warm you."

"Hey, that's not fair- we're miles from the house!"

"It may also have the additional benefit of saving me from these endless complaints."

"I- I'm not complaining! I'm just really, really cold!"

"…"

"Okay, maybe I am complaining. But it's true; it is cold out here."

Kratos moved to one side of the tree and gave a pointed look at the young man still shivering a few feet away.

"Then I suggest we start moving."

"Uh, right."

Together, they dragged and maneuvered the tree onto the sled, tying it down with a length of rope to ensure that it wouldn't fall off on the journey back. And, despite his previous threat, when Lloyd went to stand behind the sled, Kratos joined him, placing his hands on the bar next to Lloyd's.

"With haste, there is a chance we can make it back before nightfall."

"Right."

Both men leaned forward, and before long, the sled was sliding smoothly over the top of the snow. Already, the light was beginning to fade, and the songs of the birds grew faint. And though they made progress quickly, time moved faster; it became quite apparent that darkness was falling faster than either of them had anticipated.

Watching his warm puffs of breath dissolve into the icy air around them, Lloyd frowned; partly at the sky, but also at how tired he was getting. Despite the hours upon hours he spent training during swords-practice, his body was beginning to tire. It was becoming glaringly obvious that swordsmanship used different muscles than sled-pushing.

"Hey, Kratos- do you mind if we stop for a bit? I think I need to stretch."

Movement of the sled halted as the man stood and turned to look at Lloyd.

"I though you wished to return before dark."

Stepped back from the bar, Lloyd raised his right arm over the top of his head and leaned to the left, trying to loosen his tense muscles.

"Well, yeah, I did… my arms are starting to get stiff, though, and I just realized I've still got the Blue Candle with me, so it's not like we're going to get lost in the dark or anything, right?"

"Hmph. I suppose." Kratos glanced up through the trees at the dimming twilight. "Do as you wi- "

His words were cut off abruptly as Lloyd threw his arms outward, his head back, and fell backwards with a fwump into the fresh powder.

"I don't believe, in all my years of travel, that I've ever seen a form of stretching quite like that one."

Disbelief filtered through the face of the young swordsman lying on the ground.

"What, you mean you've never made a snow angel?"

"A 'snow angel'?" Ribbons of disdain filtered through the seraph's voice. "I most certainly have not."

"Are you serious? Hmm…. well, I guess we'll just have to fix that, then."

A grunt of surprise was all Kratos had time for before he found himself lying flat on his back in the cold snow. It only took a moment for him to realize that he had just been knocked to the ground by a teenager nearly four thousand years and a decade his junior. And though he was definitely not dazed in the least, the experience had not been, by any means, pleasant; reddish-brown eyes narrowed at the sky.

"I do believe that was highly uncalled for."

"Yeah, right. That was completely called for. Four thousand years is way too long to go without doing this at least once. And besides… from what I've heard about her, I don't think Mom would've wanted me to pass up this opportunity."

There was a few seconds of silence as Kratos reflected upon this statement.

"…Hm. Perhaps so." I rather did seem the kind of thing that Anna would've liked.

Kratos lifted his arm slightly, intending to flick away a stray strand of auburn hair that had come to rest across his vision as a result of the fall. Halfway to his face, however, the arm froze as a strangled cry came from a few feet to his right.

"Hey!What are you doing? Stop that!"

Well. Apparently, there were rules that went along with this sort of thing.

Slowly, he lowered the arm back to its original position.

"Am I to assume there is no movement of the arms during this… process?"

"No, you can move them- just not like that. You don't want to ruin it before you've even started, do you? Now, listen. Keeping your arms in the snow, bring them down to your sides."

Amusement and half-hearted annoyance fighting for dominance over his expression (and amusement prevailing, for the most part), Kratos complied, packing a bit of the snow against his body as he did so.

"Okay, now push them all the way up, as high as you can go… good. Now do it with your legs."

The seraph's form remained still as he contemplated this.

"I confess that I see no point in that. Would this current form not suffice as an imitation of an angel? Although I am aware that I cannot speak for others, I, at least, have never had the pleasure of knowing one who had wings affixed to his or her legs."

For a moment, the only audible sounds were of quiet breathing.

"I… don't know. I never thought about that. Maybe it's supposed to be their robe or something? Anyway, this is how it's always done, so just hurry up and do it, will you? I'm getting cold again."

"As am I, I assure you."

Seeing that Kratos was indeed completing his angel, Lloyd tensed the muscles in his stomach, throwing his weight forward in a burst of agility that was like and yet unlike him. For a moment, he remained in a crouching position, and then stood gingerly, taking care to step quite a ways away from his angel before turning around to give it a good look. Satisfied, he nodded once, and then moved to a spot directly in front of the seraph.

"Give me your hands. Getting up on your own like I did takes practice, and like I said before, you don't want to mess it up, do you?"

Conscious of the fact that nodding to show he understood could potentially ruin his creation as well, Kratos simply lifted his arms in answer and grasped the waiting hands of his son. A quick lean and a tug, and the seraph was back on his feet.

"Hah- your first snow angel. What do you think?"

Kratos froze, a breath caught in his chest. Those words…

His fists clenched, unbidden, out of habit.

"… Dad?"

He let the breath escape as the voice reached his ears. For a few long moments, he remained still, eyes closed as he suppressed the urge to block out the memory. Only when his hands and heart relaxed did Kratos dare open his eyes.

There was no need to resist- not now.

Especially in front of Lloyd.

His vision adjusting quickly to the subtle light of the candle, Kratos finished the turn and gazed down at the impressions in the snow. Perhaps it was merely the unusual lighting, but from where Lloyd stood next to his father, it seemed as though he was staring both at the angel as well as past them, looking through to something the young swordsman was unable to see.

"… I am sorry, Lloyd." He said at last.

"For what?" Lloyd moved in front of the man, noting the still distant expression. Rather than try and read the features, however, he simply waited for an answer. There was silence. And then…

"There was a time, once, when your mother… I believe 'forced' would be an apt word to use… yes, when she forced me to participate in an activity similar to this one. It was equally as ludicrous, though, as I recall, she was aiming to create men, not angels."

"Men? Oh- snowmen."

"Yes, quite. It was one of her more ridiculous propositions. I was given an entire list of items requires for the making of this 'snowman'."

"A list? Well… that does seem a little over-the-top, but was it really one of the most ridiculous?"

"It was." A sigh. "You see… as it turned out, what she had in mind was not a snowman, but a snowwoman. And she wished for me to make the thing."

"…"

A soft chuckle. "Yes- that was my reaction as well."

"She…" It was difficult to tell, the lighting being as it was, but the pause itself indicated some level of embarrassment, and Kratos, with his keen eyes, thought there just might have been a hint of color of the boy's face. "She must've had a very odd sense of humor."

Kratos shut his eyes briefly, allowing the faint touch of distant memories to brush the back of his mind.

"Indeed."

As the sensation faded, he turned his gaze to the young man standing before him. A mixture of sadness and regret found its way into his expression as he met the eyes of his son.

"I apologize for making you concerned."

The eyes left the young man's face, and Kratos lowered them to the ground and slightly to the side as shame washed over him. In days past, it had been a nearly unconquerable force. And although the intensity was somewhat lessened now, the pain still darkened his face.

"I… learned very quickly after joining Yggdrasil that there were some emotions I would be unable to show in his presence. Since then, I have been in the practice of… repressing any memories capable of triggering those emotions, so as to minimize the risk of compromising my position. And though I realize there is no longer truly a need for it…"

"There's a part of you that can't stop. A part that can't help it."

"Yes."

The word was half spoken, half whispered.

Lloyd remained silent for a moment. Then-

"Well, I wouldn't worry about it too much."

Kratos' eyes lifted slightly.

"… I beg your pardon?"

Lloyd shifted his weight, snow crunching as he did so.

"Well, think about it; it took you years to get this good at blocking the memories, right? It doesn't make sense that you would be able to let them back in just like that."

Kratos tilted his head to the side a bit as he examined his son's face.

"I'm just saying I don't blame you; it'll probably take a while to get back to the way you were before. And also…. I don't think you should have to apologize for things you can't help."

Kratos opened his mouth as though to say something, but unable to find the words, he closed it again quickly. For a few moments, he simply stood, looking into the gaze of his son, the thoughts in his mind refusing to be matched with words. The moment stretched longer, and the forest stayed silent; not waiting or anticipating, but simply listening.

"Thank you, Lloyd."

It was the best he could come up with. He only hoped it conveyed all that he wished it to.

Judging by Lloyd's answering smile and the understanding in his eyes, it had.