"A tree?"
"Yes."
"A coniferous tree. In the house. Not cut boughs, not a potted plant, but a cut down tree."
"Yes Nero," Vincent said patiently. "An evergreen tree."
"Why?"
"Er…" Vincent looked to Veld for help.
"Remember how we talked about Yule and parties? This is kind of the same idea. You know what folk tales and traditions are?" Veld asked.
"Not...really…" Nero stammered, still wary of not having the right answer.
Veld had a curious moment of deja vu as he tried to think how to explain. The last time he'd done so was when Felicia was little, just barely old enough to understand.
"Remember what Vincent said about the evergreen boughs? This is similar. It's bringing life into the house when everything else is dead and cold."
Nero nodded, processing this.
"Okay, with you so far. Why does this necessitate we kill a tree?"
"It's not killing a tree!" Vincent insisted. "It's just cut and put in water like you would cut flowers."
"Cut flowers die, dad. An evergreen tree can live for hundreds of years in its natural environment."
"When did you become so concerned about ecology?" Vincent wondered. Veld was struggling not to laugh.
"What about a potted tree?" he suggested. "Little table top one. Would save us having to buy a new one every year." Not that he or Vincent had put up a tree in ages.
Vincent looked disappointed, but Nero was smiling.
"Yeah, let's do that."
It wasn't as if they had a lot of decorations stashed away. Lights and baubles would have to be purchased. Rather than subject Vincent to a store that dealt primarily in decorations, Veld led the way to the hardware store. Lights and basic decorations could be found there, but without the heavy traffic of harried shoppers. Nero, unused to the bright and rather obnoxious lawn displays, nearly jumped three feet in the air when a large, inflatable snowman began bobbing about and singing.
"Gods what the hell?" he gasped, stumbling against Vincent. "We're not doing...that...are we?"
"If I had my choice, I'd shoot it," Vincent replied, patting Nero's shoulder. This got him a weak laugh. Nero eyed the inflatable abomination warily until they left the store.
The tree was only about three feet tall, and had long, twiggy branches. It wasn't full and fat like a Nibel fir, or an Icicle spruce, but It was the one Nero had selected.
"You ever make ornaments?" Veld asked.
Vincent shook his head. "Nah, mom decorated with natural stuff, mostly. The few times we were home, I remember a lot of antique stuff I wasn't allowed to touch. Just as well, it was probably toxic; leaded glass, mercury, and lead paint."
"My ma and I used to make chains out of paper, and little tinfoil stars. Only ever had a small tree, so when the holidays were over, we'd just shove the whole thing in the furnace.
"One year I found an empty birds nest on a window ledge. I cleaned it up and put it in the tree. Ma had a hat with a little bird on it. She took the bird off her hat and put it in the nest. That was the one thing we didn't burn. Hell if I know what became of it."
"Used to have a big box of molded glass ornaments that mom collected," Vincent commented. "Guess they're still in the attic somewhere if nobody auctioned them off."
"How could someone sell them if they're in the attic?" Nero asked. "I didn't think your house had an attic?"
"I meant the house I grew up in," Vincent explained. "It belongs to a cousin now, I think."
"It's a B&B now," Veld corrected. "Guess none of your relatives wanted it. Could go visit some time if you wanted."
"Oh," Vincent blinked, nonplussed. "Huh. Yeah. Might be neat to see what they've done with the place."
It didn't take much to set up the tree. Nero brought a plant stand from the porch inside and draped a cloth over it. Vincent tied a bright red ribbon around the pot.
"Is there a reason for the decorations?" Nero asked. "Besides the aesthetic."
"Once upon a time, you put gifts on the tree," Veld explained. "Little things like cookies or candy, socks, handkerchiefs, and mittens. As stuff got more affordable, it also got bigger. Now we just put pretty things on the tree, and the gifts underneath it."
Nero nodded and went back to untangling the lights from their cardboard packaging.
They strung the colored lights on the tree, and hung the few baubles that Vincent had bought. They made paper chains and tinfoil stars. The silver wire star that Vincent had bought was too big and too heavy for the tree.
"It doesn't need a star. It's fine the way it is."
"It still needs something," Veld observed. "It looks kinda empty still."
"Yeah it needs something," Vincent agreed.
Nero eyed the tree. "Like what?"
Digging in his pocket, Vincent produced a handful of used bullet casings. He knotted some kitchen twine and threaded it through the hole at the end. Veld laughed.
"Only you, Valentine."
"Aw it's so cute!" Max clasped her hands, delighted at the little tree. "I love that it's in a pot! ...are those bullet shells?"
"Yeah. Dad thinks it's too small. The star wouldn't stay on."
"I can fix that." Max had a barrette in her hair shaped like a sparkling silver snowflake. She took it out and fastened it to the highest branch.
"There. Perfect!"
"It does look better," Nero agreed. "Does it need anything else?"
"Well, It does look a little empty, but I think that's because of the type of tree it is. Most midwinter trees are a lot more fluffy. This one's like a stick figure tree."
"What else does it need?"
"Well, when I was little, mom and dad made origami garlands. We've had to patch them a few times as the paper wore out. He also folded some paper stars. You should put some stuff on there that's important to you."
"Like what?"
"I dunno. What's something that you'd like to see on the tree?"
Nero thought about that. Shadow rippled around his hand, leaving a glimmering object in their place. A spider's web crystallized in purple lay in his palm.
"Oh my gosh," Max breathed. "Is that from the mako cave?"
"Yeah. I found it the other day. You get these now and then. The spiders spin silk infused with mako, and rather than disintegrate, it hardens into materia."
"It looks delicate. Won't it break?"
"Nah, it's actually super strong. You could drop it on the floor and it'd be fine." Nero fixed the crystal web to the tree. He couldn't help smiling a little in satisfaction.
"Any other mako stuff?" Max asked.
Nero thought for a moment. Again the shadows flashed, leaving more objects in his hands: a few cocoons of purple and deepest blue, as well as a few thin threads of stalactites like purple icicles.
"Perfect," Max declared once Nero had attached them to the tree.
Later, long after Nero and Max had left, Vincent opened the black lacquered cabinet that held his ancestor shrine. He lit a couple of candles, and a stick of incense, and sat on the floor, watching the flames flicker. The only other light came from the little Yule tree behind him, its colored lights casting a soft glow over the room.
Beside the little porcelain offering bowls, he had set a photo of his father; it was blurry, just a copy of his father's old I.D. card from Shinra, but it was the only picture he had of Grimoire Valentine.
There was no photo of his mother. What Grimoire had done with any photos they'd had, after his wife was gone, Vincent had no idea. Because she'd loved green, growing things, Vincent had set a small potted plant on top of the cabinet, near the window where it could get some light.
There were two other small photos placed in the cabinet: One of Lucrecia's I.D. card, and one of Sephiroth's. Vincent still believed that Sephiroth had been his own son, so that made Lucrecia a part of his family, in his heart if nowhere else.
Now, sitting there in silence with only these small reminders of lost loved ones, he closed his eyes and searched for some sign that they were with him in spirit. Lucrecia had loved the Yule season, always finding joy in the lights, the songs, and the creativity of decorating. He'd only spent the one Yule in Nibelheim, before everything went to hell.
It had snowed heavily, and Lucrecia had been feeling down, missing her family and friends. Vincent had trekked into the village in search of something special. He'd been astonished to find flowers, expensive imports brought in only for the holidays.
He'd come back to the mansion with red roses and white lilies, carefully wrapped against the cold. Holly grew outside the mansion, so he cut a few branches, berries and all, and tucked them in with the flowers. It had cheered Lucrecia, for a few days at least, and her smile was all the gift he'd wanted in return.
What Sephiroth had thought of the holiday, Vincent never knew. He'd never seen him as a baby, or a child, or anything except the mad general-not in life. In his dreams, well, that was another story. Having to tell Lucrecia, dreaming under crystal, that her son had died, ranked among the most heartbreaking things Vincent had ever had to do.
I wish you could have known him, Lu. He wasn't always...well, maybe things would have turned out differently if you'd had the chance to be there with him.
And maybe, against all odds, Nero might've had an older brother to look up to.
A soft footstep alerted him to Veld's approach. Veld's arms slipped around his shoulders from behind.
"Reminiscing?" asked Veld, his voice low.
"Something like that." Vincent put a hand over Veld's-over the real one, warm against his chest. "I was just wondering what it would've been like for both my sons to have known each other."
"Big brother and little brother, eh?"
"Kind of. They wouldn't have been that far apart in age." Vincent tilted his head up to look at Veld. "Imagine it, Veld. One light, one dark, and both of them far more talented than their old man. If things had been different, had been better, Sephiroth might've played with Felicia, and all of us could've been together."
"Hmm. And what about Lucrecia?" said Veld, his voice carefully neutral.
"Well…" Vincent shrugged. "We could've worked something out. If it wasn't for Kalm, and Jenova, and Meteor, and all of that…" His voice wobbled a bit, and he stopped, swallowing the sudden lump in his throat.
"Hey." Veld tightened his hold around Vincent's shoulders. "Don't do that. Let them rest, Vince. I'm here, you're here, and most important, Nero is here. You said before you've been given a second chance. Take it and run, and don't let go."
Vincent nodded. "It's just, this time of year…"
"I know. Believe me, I know." Gently, Veld tugged him to his feet. "Come on, it's late. Time for bed."
"Right again, as usual," Vincent grumbled. "Why is that?"
"Because I'm an old bastard of a Turk," said Veld, with obvious contentment. "Let's go. Tomorrow you can help me explain hanging up the stockings to your son."
"So this is based on history," Nero said, eyeing the oversized sock.
"Yep. Couple hundred years ago, poor families began to find gifts of coins or food in the laundry they'd left out to dry. People still put decorative socks up as a throwback to that gift of charity."
"But...we don't need charity," Nero said, looking around the rental house. To him, it still seemed fabulously plush and luxuriant.
"Well, no," Veld agreed, "but it's more the principle of the thing. It's a way to let your family members know that you care about them. I think that's why sock presents are often practical stuff. I usually got a tooth brush, tooth paste, a pencil, and maybe an apple in my stocking when I was a kid."
Nero nodded. "Very useful. Sounds like your mother was very aware of dental hygiene."
Veld chuckled. "Well, dentists were expensive back then. Apple a day and all that."
"Huh?"
"Oh, it's a saying. Folk wisdom. The idea is that eating fruit and vegetables is a preventative measure to keep you in good health."
"Ah. Gotcha." A pause as Nero arranged his stocking. "Is your mom still around?"
"Nah, she passed while I was underground- er, when I was in hiding with my daughter."
Nero was quiet for a long moment. "We took a lot from you, didn't we."
It was not a question. Veld opened his mouth to reply, but Vincent beat him to it.
"Shinra took a lot from us. From you, from me, from Veld, from everyone. No one here holds you personally responsible for anything, okay?"
"Okay," Nero said with a nod. He didn't look as if he completely believed that.