All previous disclaimers apply.
A/N: I know it's been a while. I kind of loss drive for this one for a bit. To hopefully get back into it here's a fluff chapter from Charles' POV. Everyone loves the holidays, right? If you're still reading, I hope you like it.
The snow was falling gently, adding to the unbroken white blanket already on the ground. The moonlight struggled weakly through the snow clouds and gave just enough illumination to make the ground sparkle. There was no peace like the peace of a winter's night when the sounds and colors were muted by snow and one only had to look to feel the same peace settle. Charles sighed and looked out of his office window for a few moments more, taking a last measure of peace before the wonderful chaos to come. Because all the world was as still and quiet outside as it was celebratory and boisterous inside. He turned away from the window, away from the winter melancholy, and made his way out of his office to where his children were gathered in the great room.
The day had begun, as it did every year, almost as soon as the sun rose, with the youngest among them running to and fro, from their rooms to the great bannister overlooking the Christmas wonder of the tree that was suddenly surrounded by gifts and treats of all kinds. They tried to be kind and let the adults sleep, but their excitement could not be contained and the whispers and glee inevitably woke everyone within a quarter hour. Charles himself had gone into the kitchen just a short time after it all began and had felt absurdly grateful when Steven was there already and pressed a cup of strong tea, blonde and just slightly sweetened to his preference, into his hands before turning back to his self-appointed task of making cinnamon rolls.
"Bless you," Charles had murmured, "I tell myself every year that we need to put automatic locks on the doors until at least seven."
"Won't argue with you there," Steven had chuckled as he slipped the pan into the oven, "The girls were up with the sun just like the rest of them. James bundled them up and took them and some of the other kids outside to work off some of the nervous energy. Come look."
Charles had gone to the French doors that Steven indicated and couldn't help but feel his heart settle and melt a little at the same time when he saw the scene. Logan, Hank, Jubilee, and Kurt were playing in the snow with a dozen of the youngest, ranging in age from four to twelve. Kurt was showing the youngest of them how to make snow angels while the older children were having a very energetic snowball fight with the other three. The smiles and pink cheeks, the laughter and genuine happiness, was enough to put peace in Charles' heart. If ever he questioned his path, he would bring this memory up and know that the happiness of the children was everything.
Breakfast had been simple in respect to the meal that would be had later and Charles was stunned to see just how Steven had executed the day as if he was executing one of his battle plans. The cinnamon rolls were consumed before presents were torn into. A Christmas movie marathon was shown just after, trays of snacks to tide over hunger left around the great room and the dining room while the dinner was prepared. Steven, Ororo, Remy and Jean were hardly seen for the next few hours as they sequestered themselves in the kitchen. Charles had worried at having Steven and Jean in such close quarters for a significant part of the day, but Steven was graceful in his disregard of her iciness, as he always was, and she seemed to put it aside in deference to the day and the happiness of those surrounding them.
Whenever he did take time away from the kitchen Steven could be found kissing his husband gently under the mistletoe hung in so many of the doorways, mostly by Jubilee, or taking a moment to play with one of his girls with one of the new toys they'd gotten. They were still uncertain in their play, never having had toys before, or reason for imagination, but with the love Steve and Logan were lavishing upon them they were blossoming. They were lovely, sweet little ones. They'd never had names, simply called Blue and Gold, after their eye color by the man who'd held them captive all their lives. Logan had taken care of that right away, surprising them all with the romance of the names. The little one with black hair was dubbed Arwen and the little girl with white hair was quickly named Eowyn. Logan had just gruffly shrugged off how much he liked Tolkien's work. Steven had just kissed him and the girls seemed to enjoy their new names, taking to them right away. They still didn't talk much and when they were confronted with new people they didn't talk at all, hiding behind their fathers, but they had come such a long way in such a short time. They'd filled out beautifully with good food and, while they still tired quickly, were gaining strength day by day.
It had been a joy to see them sitting between Logan and Steven at dinner in the beautiful matching dresses of dark red and black Christmas plaid, hair prettily curled and done up in ribbons. He'd looked around the table at all of his children, Jubilee and Kurt laughing quietly together over some private joke, Jean and Scott somewhat tense, Remy and Ororo sitting close together whispering the secret he would allow them to keep until they were ready to share, Hank and Rogue simply taking it all in with smiles on their faces. And the children. All of the children he loved more than life itself. The conversation around the table had quieted when he'd lifted his glass and everyone else had lifted theirs in response.
"Happy Christmas to us all," He'd said in lieu of a prayer.
"Merry Christmas!" The exuberant call back to him had brought a tear to his eye.
He didn't have a Christmas dinner in his memory that he'd enjoyed more. Not just the company, but the food. He'd eaten more than his fair share and everyone at the table had complimented the four chefs until all were practically glowing with satisfaction at a job well done and appreciated. The table was a good deal lighter when the plates were finally cleared away and Charles was happy to dry dishes next to Ororo as she washed. Her quiet happiness always made him feel so very peaceful.
"How far along?" He asked quietly, making certain no one could hear them. He knew Ororo had had problems carrying in the past and she and Remy were holding their breath waiting for the most uncertain time to pass. It would not do for Ororo's private pain to become public it this pregnancy, too, ended in the same unhappy way.
"Just shy of sixteen weeks." Ororo smiled gently, "Past the most dangerous time, but we still want to wait a few more weeks before announcing just in case."
"Of course," Charles took her hand, setting the wet plate she handed him on his lap, before kissing her palm.
"I love you very much, Ororo."
"And I you, Charles," She said simply and then they turned back to their task. After he'd helped with the dishes he'd needed a little time alone and sat in his office, keeping the light off, and simply admiring the snow-covered landscape. He wasn't surprised when the gentle voice in his head interrupted his thoughts.
Happy Christmas, Charles.
He smiled a little bitterly, Happy Chanukah, my friend.
He allowed himself ten more minutes of melancholy before he took a deep breath and turned back to his children. As he left his office he was immediately assaulted and commandeered by the children to play one of the games that they had been gifted. He was hopeless at the gaming system, and they knew it, but he felt he went about losing in a spectacular and dignified manner. When he was deemed to have gotten the lowest score anyone had ever managed he took a bow to the shrieking laughter of the children and excused himself with good humor. He accepted a cup of the strongly spiked eggnog and made a note to make certain that Rogue and Remy had aspirin and water available to them before they took their rest as they seemed to be engaged in some kind of drinking competition with Hank, none of them bothering with the eggnog any longer, simply drinking right from a bottle of spiced bourbon. They should have known after so many years living with the man that Hank's metabolism would allow him to drink much more than they, but they never seemed to learn. They all looked like they were having a good time, anyway.
Ororo was curled up on one of the couches with a half dozen children lazing around her like puppies as they watched another movie. Half of them were asleep and he knew would have to be carried up to bed. Scott and Jean were curled up together on the loveseat, for one seeming at peace in their marriage. He sighed over them a little. He'd known intellectually just how emotionally stunted Jean could be, but he'd hoped that her marriage would mature her, instead it just seemed to be bring both her and Scott tension and discord. The moments of peace were the exception, not the rule. He loved them both so dearly. Perhaps after the new year he would approach them about talking with someone, a colleague if they didn't feel comfortable talking directly with him. One he knew would not tell them it was best for them to remain together if it wasn't. Jubilee and Kurt were bent over a chess board and he stopped to share strategy with them for a time, pleased at how far both of their games had come.
When he looked up from the game he was greeted by one of the most beautiful sights he'd ever had the pleasure of witnessing. Steven was laying on the oversized chaise lounge, his girls curled up on either side of him, all of them fast asleep, while Logan was seated behind them all, supporting them against his broad chest, reading quietly out loud from A Christmas Carol. The hand not holding the book was laid protectively over Steven's chest, fingers splayed just over his heart. Charles took a quick picture of the sight on the phone he'd only recently consented to carrying and then made his way over quietly and sat next to the chaise, simply listening as Logan's gruff, loving voice finished the tale. They sat for a time in quiet before Charles reached out and put a hand to Logan's shoulder.
"Are you happy, Logan?"
It was a question he'd asked many times over the years, with various responses, some that devastated him, some that gave him hope, but none that had filled his heart as Logan's answer this time did.
"More than I ever thought possible, Chuck," he answered honestly.
"I am glad to hear it. You have a beautiful family."
"I do," he agreed. They sat for a time more before Logan said quietly, "Merry Christmas, Chuck."
"Happy Christmas, Logan," He turned to look at all of his children again, all now in various stages of sleepiness, some being carried up the grand staircase to their rest and he sighed in content, "Happy Christmas, indeed."