The twinkling white lights on the tree were almost too bright for him. That was the moment Arthur should've caught on that something wasn't exactly right.
It was a week after Christmas. More specifically, it was a week after the "Missed Child" incident that had shocked the ice from beneath the North Pole. A week since Arthur was officially named the 21st Santa. A week, for lack of better words, that had been complete and utter chaos. Steve Claus, Arthur's older brother, had been practically drowning with the elven problems that came associated with the ending of a holiday and the beginning of a completely new year. Changes were being made, adjustments put into place, and all the while, Arthur stood by him to make sure everything was in order. The brother's relationship had been a rocky one, of course. Arthur had known that. He never acknowledged it, not fully, at least, because he admired Steve greatly, and he knew that they still had so much more in common than the older Claus cared to acknowledge. However, in a hopeful turn of events, the two were able to reconcile and work on healing their choppy relationship.
There was no doubt that Steve was stressed and despite help from both Arthur and Malcolm, it was hard to quell the buzzing energy that stayed present in mission control as the days passed. Luckily, despite Arthur's brand new title as Santa, he'd insisted upon keeping his job in Letters. The task was far too important to him, and Steve had no means of which to argue. In fact, he was quite grateful Arthur wanted to continue that part of his new, extended job. That meant one less thing to do on his checklist.
Bryony, the "crazy wrapping elf" (that was the name she'd earned from the other elves. Not from Arthur, of course), had managed to stay level headed throughout the entire shift in power, and she often accompanied Arthur to his bedroom after the long days that were filled with signing papers and reorganizing the AI in mission control. If it were possible, the two became even closer than they already were. Bryony would be the first to admit that she wasn't the biggest fan of Arthur at first, simply because he had a knack for ruining her perfectly organized piles of wrapping paper, or would often stumble in the way of the cleaning machine she manned after all of the presents had been delivered. Still, she'd always felt a sort of twinge in her chest whenever he entered the room. His goofy demeanor and his constant smile never failed to lift her spirits, even if it wasn't directed towards her.
Arthur's room was the most disconnected-from-reality-place of the entire North Pole, and Bryony couldn't be more thankful for that. It was a fair size, and despite the fact that it was missing the freeing aspect of windows, Arthur had still managed to make it breathable. Unlike the majority of the walls that layered the base, Arthur's walls were chipped to look like bricks, an aspect that Bryony always found herself admiring. Most of the room was usually a clutter of leftover letters or just cute little drawings the young Claus had collected from over the years. The newest prize to his collection had been Gwen's drawing of Santa on fire, which made Arthur laugh every time he saw it. A plethora of fairy lights (that never seemed to run out of batteries, mind you) hung from the ceiling of the entire room, and even though they were always on, their light was never uncomfortably bright. The room seemed to be in a constant state of coziness, and it was ultimately amplified by Arthur's bed. It was huge; an Alaskan King, to be exact, and it was enveloped with a mixture of brown, red, and beige blankets and quilts. On his desk was an Instant Hot Cocoa Machine (designed by Steve himself) that Arthur and Bryony helped themselves to every night they met up to relax and discuss their days.
It was on one of those low-key nights whenever Bryony took notice of something. Arthur's exuberance, while still present, was ever-fading. His face seemed paler than normal, and heavy bags shadowed the skin beneath his eyes. She decided not to pay it any mind, knowing full well that Arthur, just like the rest of his family, was insanely busy, and was probably just worn down from the turmoil of the week. After the storm passed, he would be back to his normal self again. She was sure of it.
Arthur forced himself into a sitting position, sniffling and attempting to stretch out his back as much as he could without the stiffness of his joints causing him too much pain. He squinted at the lights that surrounded the small Christmas tree just beside the head of his bed and found himself nearly unable to open his eyes at all. His usual dim fairy lights seemed to taunt him, threatening to blind him at a moment's notice. He rubbed his eyes, clearing his sore throat, and made himself look over at the clock on his bedside table. Arthur's heart sunk. 6:37 am. He'd only been able to get about an hour of sleep in. One hour in six days. That wasn't good, and even he knew that. Still, he reminded himself to stay positive. All of this hectic chaos would be over soon. Slowly, he turned to plant his feet on the ground, standing up and nearly falling over in the span of two seconds.
"Whoa," he chuckled sleepily. "Okay, yup. I'm good. Just gotta... take it slow."
Arthur managed to shuffle over to the Hot Cocoa Machine, brewing himself a quick cup before the events of the day were sure to wear him down even more. He was able to finish, but barely had time to brush his teeth before there came a knock on his bedroom door.
"Mm!" he exclaimed, mouth full of toothpaste. He stuck his head out of his bathroom. "C'me 'n!"
He spat out the toothpaste just as Steve opened the door, looking around the room for a moment before spotting his younger brother freshening up in the bathroom. "Good morning. We've got work to do."
Arthur snickered, but it was void of real joy. "What else is new, ey?"
Steve was looking down at his HO-HO, barely paying his brother any mind while organizing their list of things to do. Arthur finished wiping his mouth and began applying the facial cleanser he used every morning, trying his best to ignore the sick feeling at the pit of his stomach.
"Alright, I've sent instructions to your HO-HO. Check that, alright? I know you usually forget." Steve finally moved the device away from his face, hiding it away in his back pocket. That was whenever he got a good look at his kid brother and frowned. Arthur wasn't paying him any attention, but Steve took notice of the heavy bags under Arthur's eyes, and the way his skin seemed pale and clammy. It didn't help that his hair was a complete mess (more than it usually was) and that he was bent over the sink, washing bits of the cleanser away from his sensitive skin. "Arthur, are you alright?"
The young Claus paused, raising an eyebrow and looking over his shoulder towards Steve. "Yeah," he responded cheerfully. "Of course I am. Why?"
"You just..." Steve stopped himself, shaking his head and taking a step back. He didn't have time to worry right now. He knew if he started worrying about Arthur now, his older-brother instincts would kick into gear, and he wouldn't get any work done. "Come have breakfast. That might help wake you up."
Arthur smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Steve. I'll be there in five."
