In the wee hours of Christmas morning Franklin blinked his eyes open and raised his head. From the foot of the bed he turned his long snout to and fro as he scanned the dark room, cocking his head and listening to the soft snoring coming from the two humans sleeping blissfully in the same bed, Bái Shān and Chá Huā. Franklin listened carefully, but all he heard was the snoring, and he decided that that was what had awoken him from a sound sleep. There had been a party the previous evening; Bái Shān and Chá Huā had been very happy, laughing giddily and holding onto each other as they walked on unsteady feet to their quarters when the party broke up. Franklin had trailed behind them to make sure his adopted parents came to no harm.
Memories of the party caused Franklin to instantly perk up. There had been lots of food and drink at the party, far more than the people had been able to eat. Even better, all of the leftovers had been left spread out on the long table in the workroom as everyone left for their individual homes.
The little tea dragon got to his feet and carefully climbed down the bedding to the floor. He paused just long enough to stretch his sleep-stiffened body and yawn, then he hurried to slip though the pet door and out into the dark, cool corridor outside of the his parents' quarters.
He pattered quickly along the length of the hallway towards the workroom, his mouth watering at the thought of all the abandoned delicacies that awaited him there. There had sweets at the party—cake, cookies, chocolate. There had also been savory foods as well—pizza, chicken wings, tacos. Everyone had brought something different to the party, and while tea dragons in the wild tended to be mostly vegetarian, Franklin had learned to appreciate a great many non-vegetarian human treats as well. He still preferred tea leaves, but human sweets were too much of a temptation to resist. As he drew closer to the workroom, he increased his speed until he was galloping leisurely, eager to get to the food-laden table and eat his fill of the leftovers.
At last he reached his destination and dashed into the large room. He skidded to a stop, however, when he saw the unexpected sight of a large sack made of red cloth in the middle of the wooden floor, just in front of the huge, brightly-lit Christmas tree at the foot of the spiral staircase. The sack had not been there last night when the party broke up. Puzzled but always up for an adventure, Franklin squealed with excitement and trotted over to the bag. He was just about to look for a way into it when he heard a loud, sharp, guttural grunt sound behind him, followed by a low rumbling growl. Startled, Franklin jumped straight up into the air and spun around, and to his absolute horror he saw the source of the noise. Crouched on the table and staring straight down at Franklin was the biggest tiger that the little dragon had ever seen.
Franklin's black eyes flew wide in terror. The tiger had been on the table and rummaging through the leftovers, otherwise he would've seen it the moment he entered the room. Before Franklin could even think of running, the tiger snorted and lazily jumped down from the table, hitting the floor no more than a foot from Franklin. Petrified, the dragon's legs gave out beneath him and he flopped flat onto the floor, staring up at the gigantic predator as it stepped toward him. The tiger was so close that Franklin could see the cake crumbs and frosting caught in its wiry whiskers and in the fur of its muzzle. Long, wicked-looking fangs could be seen in the beast's open mouth as it approached and lowered its massive head. Certain that he was about to be eaten up, Franklin whined softly and closed his eyes. He silently prayed to the Goddess of Mercy that his end would be quick and that she would look after Bái Shān and Chá Huā after he was gone.
But instead of sharp fangs piercing his flesh, Franklin felt warm moist air against his head and back as the tiger loudly sniffed him. The tiger half-grunted, half-snorted as its head moved so close to Franklin that could feel the vibrations to the marrow of his bones. The tea dragon shivered involuntarily with fear; what was taking so long? Why didn't the tiger just eat him and get it over with?! And then, just as Franklin thought he was going die of fright long before the fearsome creature decided to eat him, the tiger licked him.
Shocked, Franklin popped open his eyes. The tiger was sitting quietly in front of him, looking down at the little reptile with large, yellow placid eyes. When the tiger saw that Franklin was staring back, it shook its great head and loudly huffed several times, making it sound as though the beast was actually laughing. The tiger then bent down and again licked the utterly confused tea dragon a couple more times, its rough tongue rasping against the tiny scales of Franklin's body and flipping him over onto his back. The tiger then gently head-butted the underneath of Franklin's chin and affectionately nuzzled his long neck. Its whiskers tickled the little reptile and despite his caution he couldn't help but squeal shrilly with delight.
The tiger rose and turned toward the large sack. It pawed the sack open and stuck its huge head inside, grunting softly as it rummaged around for a few seconds. For a split-second Franklin considered turning and running away as fast as his little legs would carry him, but he understood that this was no ordinary tiger. Now that his fear had subsided a bit, he could sense the magic that was radiating from this magnificent creature. Good magic, not evil. Franklin had nothing to fear from this tiger; he was so relieved that he nearly passed out again. But a tea dragon's curiosity was a powerful thing, and that alone kept Franklin awake and alert. If he lost consciousness now, he might miss out on something wonderful, and no true tea dragon ever wants that. As the tiger continued to dig around in the sack, Franklin rolled onto his feet and sat up and he craned his neck as he tried to get a peek at what the tiger was doing.
Finally the huge cat pulled its head out of the sack. Clamped delicately in its fearsome jaws was the glittery red ribbon of a large, gaily gift-wrapped package. The tiger awkwardly carried the gift back to Franklin and carefully set it before the dragon. The tiger then sat down and flicked its eyes between the gift and Franklin. Realizing that the gift was for him and that the tiger was waiting for him to open it, all fear was forgotten as Franklin gave a shriek of excitement. He fell on the package and made short work of the ribbon and the wrapping paper. He ripped into the cardboard box and soon one entire side was obliterated. From inside the box a small round wooden ball the size of a soccer ball rolled out of the box and across the floor a few inches. Franklin, puzzled, cautiously inched toward the ball. It looked a great deal like the magic globe that the humans sometimes threw into the air and which then expanded into a gigantic glowing ball of lights. Franklin stretched his long neck out as far as he could and sniffed; his ears swung forward and his eyes dilated.
Food!
There was food inside of the ball!
Franklin darted forward, expecting to make short work of the ball. The moment his forepaws touched its smooth surface, however, it suddenly changed. Startled, Franklin leaped backward into the air with a loud squawk. By the time he landed again, the ball had expanded more than ten times in size, knocking over chairs and scattering books, papers and artifacts onto the floor while shoving tables out of place as it expanded. Its surface was covered with variously shaped apertures, each aperture an opening into a maze of narrow, twisting tube-like tunnels within the ball. Any creature that could successfully navigate the tunnels to the center of the maze would be rewarded with a fabulous treat. Franklin's eyes became like goggles as he stared at what he now realized was a huge puzzle ball, his favorite kind of toy.
Franklin looked over at the tiger, but the beast already had its head stuck into the large sack again. It dug around and pulled out several more brightly-wrapped gifts of differing sizes, six in all. The tiger placed each gift underneath the Christmas tree, taking care to arrange them just so. When it was finished, it turned to look at Franklin and gave a loud grunt, signaling that it was about to leave.
Franklin looked at the packages under the tree, then at the treat-laden puzzle ball. He abruptly ran to the creature and wrapped all four of his small legs around one massive foreleg on the tiger, trilling his gratitude as he tightly hugged the animal. The beast snuffled the little dragon's head and gave him another lick before lifting its leg and gently shaking it free of the ecstatic little dragon. Suddenly the Back Door glowed and whirred to life of its own accord behind the tiger, the mechanism in the globe spinning the doors open. White light flooded into the workroom. The tiger seized the heavy sack between its powerful jaws and, lifting its massive head high, carried the sack toward the portal. Without a glance backward it loped into the light and disappeared. The doors closed and the light winked out, the globe mechanism came to a halt, and silence filled the cavernous workroom once again.
With a screech of joy, Franklin ran back to the ball and dove into one of the beckoning openings, disappearing as he began to work his way through the ball's internal maze in search of its prize.
Jenkins sat upright at once, scanning the darkness for danger, instinctively holding one arm protectively over Cassandra as he struggled to reach full wakefulness. Jenkins cocked his head in the darkness, listening intently. There! There it was again—a loud, high-pitched screaming. The immortal sucked air into his lungs for a tense moment, then relaxed as he recognized the sound. It was Franklin, up to some sort of mischief, no doubt. Jenkins started to reach over to turn on his bedside lamp, but stopped. In the faint light, he could see Cassandra sleeping peacefully next to him, snoring quietly, completely oblivious to any danger that might be lurking outside of their bedroom door. Five large appletinis and a glass of champagne at midnight will do that, I suppose, he thought dourly as he shook his white head and rolled his eyes, remembering the previous night's birthday celebration for Eve Baird.
Jenkins sighed as he got out of bed and slipped into his robe and slippers. Cassandra suddenly snorted loudly in a most un-ladylike fashion and rolled over, mumbling something unintelligible in her sleep. Jenkins hid a smile as he went to Cassandra and softly kissed her forehead. As he crept through the door and into the hallway outside, he made a mental note to mix up a remedy for her inevitable hangover and have it ready for her when she woke up.
The immortal followed the corridor to the workroom. Jenkins halted the moment he entered the room, his eyes instantly falling on the gigantic wooden ball currently taking up a shockingly large amount of floor space.
"What on earth...?" he muttered, a look of consternation on his face. He approached the object slowly, warily. He flinched involuntarily when it wobbled slightly, then his shoulders dropped when he heard a very tea dragon-like squeal of delight coming from inside of the enormous sphere. Jenkins hurried over to the wall and flipped on the overhead lights. When he turned around, his eye caught sight of the newly-delivered gifts at the base of the Library's Christmas tree.
"Where did those come from?" he asked, alarm reasserting itself. "Did…did Santa Claus…?" He instantly dismissed the idea. Santa Claus rarely delivered physical gifts these days. But if they weren't from Santa, where had they come from? And more importantly, how did the person who delivered them get into the Library?
Jenkins went to the nearest gift and went down on one knee. He found the gift's tag and read the large, childish-looking scrawl filling its surface: JAKOB STON. Jenkins stared at the tag, a shiver of understanding running up his spine as an idea rapidly formed in his mind. No, he told himself sternly, it can't possibly be…
He quickly searched the other gifts for tags and found that there was a gift for all of the others: Flynn, Eve, Cassandra, Ezekiel, all of their names crudely written in black ink and badly spelled. There was one more gift remaining, a small flat package less than a foot square. His entire body went numb and he was barely breathing when he read the final tag.
GALAHAD (aka JENKINZ)
These gifts were most definitely not from Santa Claus! He replaced the box with his name on it and stood up, began closely examining the floor around him. When he was near the long worktable he froze, then knelt down to examine his find more closely: A huge paw print, nearly 8 inches across, outlined in pink frosting—the same frosting that had been on Eve's birthday cake the night before.
Jenkins scrambled to his feet and hurried to the worktable. He gasped at the sight that greeted him; something had been on the table, had decimated the leftover cake left there overnight. Teeth marks—much, much larger than those of a tea dragon—marred the remains of the cake. Bottles and glasses had also been knocked over, and there were stale scraps of half-chewed tacos strewn across the tabletop. And more of the gigantic paw prints.
"This can't be!" he whispered to himself, a note of wonder and disbelief in his voice as his dark eyes quickly took in the tracks and mangled leftovers. The immortal turned and hurried back to the assorted gifts beneath the tree and picked up the one with his name on it. His long fingers trembling, he tore off the colorful paper, revealing a red gift box beneath. He lifted the lid. The moment his eyes fell on the box's contents, Jenkins cried out in astonishment. His knees gave out and he sat down hard onto the wooden floor, his eyes never leaving the box.
Nestled inside was a gorgeous neck torc made of solid gold. It was slim and delicate, its ends capped with finials shaped like flower buds. Clearly made for a woman, the gold was worn in some places, and there were minor dings and scratches in the gold's surface, but it was still a beautiful piece of work.
Jenkins could barely breathe as he stared at it. Even after all these centuries, he recognized it at once. Memories flooded back to him of that long ago day: The fear he'd felt as he approached the Siege Perilous, the feel of its wooden armrests beneath his warm, sweaty palms as he sat down on the silken cushion while everyone in the feasting hall watched, fully expecting to see him instantly consumed by fire as so many others had before him. The thunderous applause rang in his ears again as everyone realized that he had passed the test, that he was, indeed, the greatest knight in all the world. He saw Queen Guinevere as she rose from her throne and approached him, her strong pale hands removed the torc from her own neck and then, with a warm smile of pride, placed it around his—a reward and an acknowledgement of his bravery. Young Galahad had treasured the torc ever since. It never left his neck until many decades later, not until he had been captured in battle and it had been stripped from him by a Viking warrior.
Jenkins spent a long time staring at the lost treasure. He had never expected to see it again, of course, but now here it was, in his hands, a memento of Queen Guinevere—beautiful, brave, clever Guinevere. A memento of the Round Table, the knights he had sat with and fought beside, of Camelot itself. Jenkins raised the box slowly and held it against his chest, half-wondering if this was really just a dream. He turned his head and looked at the other gifts still waiting to be unwrapped. They, too, probably contained items that had once been thought lost forever but were now waiting to be reunited with their owners again. He turned his gaze back to the precious torc in his hands. There was no denying it now; there was only one creature that could have retrieved an item like this and returned it to him.
Sasha. Sasha, the Christmas Tiger.
Not everyone received a visit from the Christmas Tiger. Only those who had done something especially wonderful and beneficial to the entire world were rewarded with a visit from Sasha.
Jenkins frowned. But…why the Library—why these Librarians and this Guardian—should receive a visit was a mystery to the old Caretaker. No other Librarian or Guardian had been visited by Sasha. Not even Judson or Charlene had received a visit. And why had he, Jenkins, been visited? He thought hard, and the only reason he could come up with was the saving of the Library and the world in the alternate timeline, when they'd had to overcome the betrayal of Nicole Noone. The others, they had actually changed the course of the Library, saved the world from a second Dark Ages. That made sense. But he shook his head in confusion. What had he done to deserve a visit?
"Merry Christmas, Galahad!"
Jenkins spun around with a soft yelp. His eyes searched for the speaker but he saw no one.
"Over here!"
A movement caught the corner of his eye and he turned to it. He was shocked to see Charlene waving at him from inside of the magic mirror.
"Merry Christmas, Galahad!" she said again. Jenkins scrambled to his feet and rushed to the mirror.
"Charlene!" he gasped, amazed, "What...?"
"I can't stay long," she interrupted him, a look of regret on her face. "I just wanted to make sure everyone received their gifts!" She nodded at the box still clutched to the old knight's chest and gave him a reproving look. "I see you've already unwrapped yours!" Jenkins looked down in puzzlement, realized he was still holding the box containing the torc. He looked up at Charlene again.
"You arranged this?" he asked faintly. Charlene smiled and nodded.
"We did," she confirmed, "Judson and I. We petitioned Sasha after you all defeated Nicole Noone. If saving the Library and the world from a new Dark Ages wasn't worthy of a reward from Sasha, well..." She shrugged. "Then we have no idea what would be!"
"But that happened almost four years ago!" Jenkins answered, bewilderment filling his dark eyes. "And I didn't really do anything to contribute to that—that was all on the Librarians and Colonel Baird…especially Colonel Baird!"
"You had a role to play, Galahad," Charlene said gently, and Jenkins snorted.
"Oh, yes, I had quite an important role to play!" he said bitterly, "I let myself be tricked into giving my immortality to a traitor, making it possible for her to finally plant seeds of doubt into the minds of the others and to kill me!"
"Galahad..."
"I made it possible for her to kidnap Flynn, for the Library to possess me and use my body and my voice to literally torture the others until—"
"Galahad!" Charlene cut him off sharply. She fixed a stern gaze through narrowed eyes on the old man. "You have a real martyr complex sometimes, you know that?"
"It may be a complex, but you can't deny that everything I'm saying is the truth," he shot back, refusing to let himself off so easily. "If I'd just been more diligent in my duties..."
"Oh, please!" Charlene said shortly, shaking her head in denial of his self-imprecations. "Everything played out as it was meant to. Eve was destined to be the greatest Guardian in the history of the Library. You helped her to do that!" Charlene took a step closer to her side of the mirror as she continued to speak, her expression earnest. Jenkins snorted in disgust and shrugged.
"Yes, I was absolutely brilliant, wasn't I? Especially in that other timeline," he replied in a voice heavy with sarcasm. Charlene's eyes filled with kindness.
"But don't you see, Galahad? You made it possible for them to go up against some of the most hopeless situations the Library has ever faced! The Serpent Brotherhood, Prospero, Apep, Nicole Noone…" She ticked off the Library's most recent adversaries on her fingers as she spoke their names.
"How?" the old immortal demanded curtly. Charlene shifted all of her weight onto to one foot and gave the old immortal a sour look.
"Really? You're really going to make me spell it all out for you!" she said. Jenkins met her gaze, almost in challenge.
"Yes," he replied tartly, "Yes, I am." Charlene sighed and dramatically rolled her eyes.
"You taught them how to be Librarians, how to be a Guardian," she began with some exasperation, "Flynn didn't do that, Galahad; you did! You were there every step of the way for them, teaching them and guiding them and helping them when they got stuck—even rescuing them when they needed it!" Charlene tilted her blonde head slightly to one side and spread her hands a bit as she gazed directly into Jenkins's eyes. "But the greatest you've done for them is to open your heart to them and let them into your life; I am so proud of you for that!"
"Yes, well…I don't that was called for!" Jenkins mumbled, uncomfortable with the older woman's praise.
"Well, guess what, buster: It is called for!" Charlene leaned forward as if about to share a secret. "I'm very proud of you for letting Cassandra into your heart!" she stage-whispered, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She broke into a grin as Jenkins dropped his eyes at the mention of Cassandra and a look of mortification fell over his face with the sudden understanding that Charlene knew how he had felt about the young Librarian all along.
"On this side of the mirror there are no secrets," she informed him, a note of warmth in her voice. "You've all grown so much, each in their own way. Judson and I are proud of all of you. We persuaded Sasha that you all equally deserved a special acknowledgement for that—albeit a tad bit late, I'll grant you." Charlene made a face her nose crinkling. "Who knew magic tigers loved paperwork so much?"
Another protest of his own unworthiness sprang to Jenkins's lips but got no further. He knew that Charlene was right. He had been the one who primarily formed this motley group of young people into the efficient team they were now. And in the process he had allowed himself to open up. From them he had learned to care again, to engage with life, even to fall in love. He met Charlene's gaze and gave her a small smile.
"Indeed," was all he said. A wry smile tugged at one corner of the former Guardian's mouth.
"Well! Sealing has certainly taken some of the poison out of your barb!" she said tartly, but there was a twinkle in her eyes. "Congratulations on that, by the way. I always knew she was good match for you."
"Humpf!" the immortal snorted, "As if you had anything to do with it!"
"Humpf!" Charlene snorted, mimicking him. "Who do you think encouraged her? Cupid?" She shook her head slowly in denial and pointed at herself with both thumbs. "Uh-uh. It was this Guardian, right here!"
"What?!" snapped Jenkins, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Explain!"
"It means that as I was saying my goodbyes to everyone after our adventure in Shangri-La, I slipped Cassandra a note," Charlene retorted smugly while giving him a defiant stare. "I knew that you were as attracted to Cassandra as she was to you! I told her that you would never admit it, though, not even to yourself." Jenkins opened his mouth to argue with her, an affronted expression on his face, but the ex-Guardian raised her hand to shake a scolding finger at him.
"Don't you dare deny it, either, Galahad! You're as stubborn and contrary as an old army mule! I told her that she'd have to be just as stubborn, but in the end it would be worth the effort!" She crossed her arms and looked down her nose at him in satisfaction. "And she took my advice—she's a smart woman, I hope you appreciate that about her!" Jenkins started to say something suitably biting, but at the last second changed his mind.
"Thank you," Jenkins said instead, sincerely. He raised his head slightly. "It turns out that being dumped by you was the best thing to ever happen to me."
"I never dumped you, Galahad; I freed you, a long time ago," she answered steadily, "It just took you a while to accept it." She suddenly cast a look behind her, as if someone out of sight was speaking to her, and she nodded. She turned back to Jenkins with an apologetic look. "Time for me to go."
"So soon?" Jenkins exclaimed, sadness filling him. "Can't you at least wait for the others to come? I know they'd love to—"
"I'm afraid not, I've been here too long already," Charlene said, shaking her head sadly. She was already beginning to fade.
"Wait!" Jenkins cried, clutching at any excuse to keep his friend here just a bit longer, "Aren't you going to at least tell me what's in the other gifts before you go!?" Charlene's laughter echoed hollowly as she slowly continued to disappear.
"What, and ruin the surprise for you?" her voice teased him lightly. "No way, José—no spoilers!" She was nearly gone by now.
"Merry Christmas, Charlene! To you…and to Judson!" Jenkins called out, melancholy filling his heart at seeing her leave so soon.
"Merry Christmas to you and Cassandra! And to everyone else! Tell Flynn we're thinking of him!" came the ghostly reply, and then there was silence. Jenkins closed his eyes for a moment.
He suddenly remembered the torc, still clasped against his chest. He started to lower the box so he could see look at it when there was a sharp high-pitched shriek behind him. He spun around; Franklin had just poked his head out of one of the openings in the puzzle ball. As soon as he saw Jenkins, the tea dragon screeched with joy and spent several comical seconds trying to free himself of his new toy. When he was finally clear, he shot across the floor and launched himself into Jenkins's arms and began excitedly licking the old man's face. In the distance, the puzzle ball instantly shrank back to its original size.
"Yes, yes—Merry Christmas to you, too, Franklin!" Jenkins laughed as he struggled to keep hold of both the torc and the wildly wriggling dragon. He managed to remove the piece of jewelry from its box and slip it into the pocket of his robe. Before heading back to the bedroom to awaken Cassandra and share the news with her, the immortal looked up at the ceiling of the workroom, his eyes sweeping the vast expanse high overhead.
"Thank you, Sasha," he murmured with heartfelt fervor, "And Merry Christmas!" He sighed deeply and looked down at the still frantically squirming Franklin.
"Let's go wake up Cassandra, then, shall we?" he asked the whining little reptile in an exaggeratedly urgent, excited tone. Franklin responded with an adoring gaze and an ear-piercing squeal.
"All right, then!" Jenkins replied, cringing and shaking his head against the ringing in his ears. He quickly strode toward the corridor.
"Let's stop by the lab first and mix up a batch of my patented hangover remedy, though," he announced breezily to the uncomprehending tea dragon. "Otherwise I have the feeling that Cassandra won't be too thrilled with being awakened this early in the morning, even if is Christmas...!"
A/N: Clearly this fic was inspired by the Sasha the Christmas Tiger meme in Tumblr. Thanks for reading and Merry Christmas!