I woke up early, just as the sun was spreading it's light upon the earth. I had long since given up believing in Santa Claus and I knew the true magic of Christmas was only the feelings of contentment and appreciation. But that didn't wane the excitement I felt. It was like I was a kid again. I couldn't wait for the guys to open their presents. I wanted to wake them now and see their reactions as they unwound the ribbon-tied cloth and gazed at their new possessions. I hoped their expressions would be ones of thankful joy, but I was prepared to accept only disinterested amusement.

I lay on the couch for a while, trying to calm my anxiety. When I could no longer be still, I got up and went to the kitchen. I began to quietly start on preparations for the upcoming meal. It would take time to make all I planned to fix. The recipe book had been a lot of help. I had to improvise in some areas to account for what we had and what we lacked, but I was certain my changes would be alright. What excited me the most was the cocoa I had found while digging in the cabinets. That would certainly come in handy. I wasn't confident enough to try my hand at making pie crusts, so I just made pudding and cake for desert.

When that was out of the way, I started making biscuits and gravy for breakfast. As I was finishing, Achilles came into the kitchen, limping as he always did. He sat at the table with a grimace of pain and watched me.

"It certainly smells good in here," he said.

I smiled in thanks as I served him his breakfast. We rarely ate the first meal of the day in the dinning room. It was reserved for supper only. Connor never joined us for breakfast, either. The mornings Achilles made him get up, he would exercise for at least an hour before eating. That mostly meant running around in the woods and then tracking mud and snow through the house that I would later have to clean up. I always waited to mop the floors for that reason.

I sat down by Achilles and we ate in silence. When he was done, I looked at him.

"Are you going to wake Connor?"

He looked at me. I think he caught the expectation in my voice, even though I tried to hide it. He shrugged. "I think I'll let him sleep in today."

"Oh," I sounded.

I cleaned up the mess as Achilles sipped his tea in quiet. I noticed he was watching me intently. I could tell by the way he was looking at me that he had no intention of waking Connor. If for no other reason than to keep me waiting. I wondered if he was trying to teach me the value of patience, or just enjoying my misery. I leaned toward the latter as I noticed the slight grin on his face every so often. I finished putting the dishes away, sat down and sighed loudly at him.

"Oh, child, you are so impatient," Achilles mused with affection. "Go wake him up."

I grinned and stood up. I made my way quickly to Connor's door and knocked. When I got no answer, I knocked again. Louder this time. There was still no response. I opened the door cautiously and called out to him.

Connor was sprawled out on the bed, face down, snoring softly.

"Connor!"

He didn't move. I realized why Achilles was never polite in his attempts to wake the boy. He slept like a rock. I entered the bedroom. Connor's bare shoulders glowed in the dying firelight. His hair was loose and tangled. There wasn't a pillow under his head. It was held at his side by his arm, as though it were his lover. I reached down and shook him, calling his name. He jerked and rolled his face toward me. His eyes were still half closed and his expression vague.

"What?" he groaned.

"It's time to get up," I told him. "It's Christmas morning. You get to open your present."

Connor's brow furrowed as he gazed at me with confusion at my excitment. He released the pillow and propped himself up on his elbows. "What?"

I wasn't in the mood for more playful banter. I just wanted him to get up. "Get your lazy ass outta bed," I told him.

Connor looked at me for a moment as if deciding how he should respond. I noticed again the faint rebellious glint in his eyes. Then he sighed. "Fine." He rolled onto his side, facing me. "Leave."

The gruff tone of his order stunned me for a second. He'd never used such a voice with me before. I'd heard him use something like it with Achilles, but not with me. His usual way of speaking to me was with either polite chatting or irritated explanations.

I stood there for a moment, looking at him. Then I left the room. I went into the study and sat on the floor by the tree. Two gifts wasn't much, but I hoped for better next year. I waited impatiently for the boys to come in. After what felt like an hour, they finally did. Connor sat in the high-backed cushioned chair.

"That's my seat, boy," Achilles told him.

Connor sighed, failing to hide a glare and moved to the other chair. I threw him a goading grin. His eyes narrowed at me. He gave me the same reaction when the old man scolded me. Though, that was rare. Achilles didn't need to reprimand me often. Not as much as he did the young man, anyhow.

"Alright, Faith," Achilles said. "Let's get this over with."

I ignored his exasperation and took him his gift. I knelt in front of him as he unwrapped it. Achilles looked at the cane and hummed quietly. "This will be useful," he said nonchalantly. "Thank you."

I tried not to be discouraged by his lack of excitement and smiled. "I'm glad you like it, old man."

I got the other gift and took it to Connor. "Merry Christmas."

He unwrapped the present and looked at it. "What is it?" he asked.

"A rope dart," I said. "Achilles said you might like it."

Connor studied the item. He unwound the rope and twirled the dart.

"Don't spin that in the house," Achilles told him.

The young man let the momentum dwindle and held the dart in his hand. "Sorry." He looked at me. "Thank you."

I walked over to the doorway. Stretching as much as I could, I got the mistletoe from the top and held it in my hands. I looked at them. "Thanks for taking part in my mundane attempt at festivities. Next time, try to be a bit happier."

Connor looked at the ground and said nothing. I walked over to Achilles, put the vine over his head and kissed him on the cheek. He gazed at me.

"I wish you wouldn't do that."

"I know," I told him with a smile.

I gave him the plant and went back to the kitchen to finish cooking. The meal was really good and we all ate too much. I postponed cleaning and lay on the couch with a book while I let my food digest. I was almost dozing when Connor came in. He walked over to where I was and looked at me.

"Thank you," he said. "For everything you have done. You put a lot of effort into today, and I want you to know that Achilles and I both appreciate it."

I put down the book and sat up. "That means a lot," I said.

Connor fidgeted for a moment then held his closed fist out to me, mumbling. "Merry Christmas."

I held out my hand and he put a leather beaded string in my palm. I looked at it. It was about six inches long with nine white beads, a knot between each of them.

"Did you make this?" I asked him.

Connor nodded. He crouched down in front of me. Taking the bracelet, he tied it around my wrist. "I did not have enough beads to make a necklace," he said. "But I hope you like it."

I looked at the bracelet. The fact that it was crafted for me made all the difference. It was perfect. The best gift I had ever gotten.

"I love it," I told him.

Connor gave me an abashed smile. I hugged him. I felt his hesitation at the action, but he slowly put his arms around me in return.

"Thank you, Connor."

"You are welcome," he murmured.

As I released him, I brushed my lips against his cheek. I felt the heat of his blush. He stood up and left the room, without looking at me.