No movement. No sound.

Snow fell onto his palm and melted into the lines, fragile as a flower, gone in the time it took to take a breath. Flakes whirled in a dance of white, buffeted by the chill wind that blew across the open window, falling to darkness and the water below, grey as fog, deep as night. In the frost-laden air, white steamed when he breathed out, but he stood there taking in the salt-laden wind, the tang of sea cutting across his tongue and through his sensory pits. Leaning into the wind again, hands fastened on the rail, Guide closed his eyes, drawing it as deep into his lungs as he could. It scalded, cut like a scalpel. Opening his eyes, the stars blazed above, the twin moons of the planet casting a silver nimbus on the horizon, navy clouds scudding across their faces.

Before him, Atlantis burned bright. The humans celebrated behind him and he did not know why. He'd come only for the Fair One. "Please," she'd whispered against his chest, "it's Christmas" and unable to deny her this small thing they came. He and Sprint, her faithful shadow, the cleverman agog at the sight of the Ancient city and the Lanteans, alight with countless questions. For the first time, Guide saw the young cleverman struck dumb, his normal exuberance carefully tied down until it lay beneath the surface of his pale skin, bright as the gaily wrapped boxes he'd seen exchanging hands.

Still, he wished he had not. A dull ache sat in his breast.

On Just Fortune he understood. There he reigned, undisputed. Here, he was no more than tolerated. No guest, despite how they hid their weapons behind smiles and cautious greetings. He knew. He knew nothing changed. Not yet. Too soon. Far too soon. Despite that their hearts beat the same. He knew that too. Now. Under his fingers he'd felt the quiver of a human heart that beat with the steady rhythm of trust. One day, perhaps there would be more.

~Guide?~

~What is it, cleverman?~ Weary beyond belief, Guide glanced back, took in the glowing face of the youth and bit back the sharp comment on his tongue. His mouth twitched, curled with wry amusement. ~I see you are enjoying the hospitality.~

A shadow crossed the man's face, his yellow eyes filled with sudden doubt. ~They have been most gracious, Commander.~

~I do not doubt it,~ Guide murmured, and tasted the thoughts questing over Sprint's mind. ~I have experienced their hospitality many times.~ Did he grow so old, he wondered, as to see ill in everything? Was it that which made him so tired? He felt the disappointment in Sprint, the dampening of his spirits and he wondered anew about the heart that he'd had as a young man. When had it changed for him, but he knew without saying and the old hurt burned, clenching like an angry fist in his guts. Flakes drifted onto him, melted to tiny pools of icy water, and he shook himself. Enough. Quenching both cynicism and a morbid desire to stay locked in his sorrow, he nodded at the glass the cleverman held in his hand. ~Wine?~

~Yes,~ Sprint said and offered it to him. ~Dr. McKay thought you might appreciate it and asked if you would care to join us... them.~ Guide didn't miss the garbled correction, and hid a smile in the wine as he drank. Surprised by its warmth, he took a deeper sip, and all manner of flavour burst in his mouth. Sprint saw this, and added, ~Mulled, they call it.~

It was delicious. Quicksilver had been right. Something Guide would take care to ensure he didn't hear. ~A custom of Earth?~ he guessed.

~One of many, Lord,~ the cleverman said, and cautious wonder sat in his thoughts. ~They have brought stars into the city.~

Tipping his head, Guide examined the youth and willing to have belief suspended, he said, ~Have they?~

The cleverman nodded. ~And the forest...~

This then he had to see. Taking another long draught from the goblet he followed the cleverman as he set off towards the city's arboretum. No cortège of soldiers followed Sprint or himself anymore, with their shut faces, noticeable by their absence, so perhaps his assessment was less than generous. Progress there was, although they were not allowed in... sensitive... regions. Understandably.

Music reached him as they turned the final corner. Human voices raised in song, the words in a language he didn't recognise.

"Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht..."

The doors of the room were thrown wide open and all the personnel had turned out, singing as snow blew in to rest on the branches of great green trees that smelt of resin and wood, deeply pungent, heady and crisp. So this is the smell of Earth, he thought, and he understand why they fought so hard to keep it safe. Among the branches white gleamed, lights that twinkled and set the room on fire like a million tiny suns in the firmament and Guide warmed his hands round the glass, listening, pierced by the sound though he had no idea why.

"...Hirten erst kundgemacht
Durch der Engel Halleluja,
Tönt es laut von fern und nah:
Christ, der Retter ist da!
Christ, der Retter ist da! ..."

A small hand tucked into his elbow, and he looked down at the Fair One. Her eyes were dark as she sang with her friends, her voice sweet and high and certain.

"...Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht,
Gottes Sohn, o wie lacht
Lieb' aus deinem göttlichen Mund,

Da uns schlägt die rettende Stund'.
Christ, in deiner Geburt!
Christ, in deiner Geburt!..."

As the song finished, she leaned up and kissed him, and the taste of alcohol was on her mouth, fragrant as berries, warm as honey. "Thank you," she whispered.

Another song started and she rested against his side, head tilted on his shoulder, cheeks pink from the cold and Guide thought he'd rarely seen something so lovely. A smile quivered on her lips and he turned his attention back to the humans around him. They were silent as they listened to a young woman, eyes moist, a few weeping, silver tracks on their cheeks and he remembered Sprint's wonder and opened himself to the feeling suffusing the room. Hope. Joy. Brotherhood. Emotion flooded into him, sweeping across him and he drew in a great breath, shocked by the intensity of these people and how it bound them all in spite of their mind-blindness.

"...Personent hodie
Voces puerulae,
Laudantes iucunde
Qui nobis est natus,
Summo Deo datus,
Et de virgineo
Ventre procreatus. ..."

"Why this night?" he asked, but Jennifer placed her gloved finger on his lips and shook her head. "I'll explain another time," she whispered. And when she looked up at him, warmth and affection shone in her eyes, and for once Guide let himself be lost in it. "Merry Christmas."

"... Omnes clericuli,
Pariter pueri,
Cantent ut angeli:
'Advenisti mundo:
Laudes tibi fundo
Ideo: Gloria
In excelsis Deo'. ..."

A.N. I'm not Christian, but I was brought up on the tradition so it has never really shaken its hold on me. Though I despair at humanity, at times, I know that it's at this time of year when we are likely to see both the best and worst of human nature. Mostly, I wanted Wraith to see the best humanity can offer, and I hope you will see it too.

A blessed Yule to you all. )O(