Previously:
"Story. Ehm. Ok. What kind of story?"
Castle released a breath of exasperation, "A Christmas story, of course! It can be real, of little Katie Beckett, or you can make one up. Storyteller's choice. I promise not to interrupt-"
"As if you're capable."
"Hey. I promise. He fingered the ring on her not quite ring finger beneath the blanket with one hand and mimed locking his lips with the other. "Goh," he said from his closed mouth.
"A Christmas story...ok…." Kate snuggled back into him and set her eyes upon the fire once more. " A Very Krampus Christmas….um...by Kate Beckett…"
A Very Krampus Christmas
Cheer. Joy. Laughter. Holiday spirits. Sweet sugary cheerfulness permeated the air. Bells jingled. Carols were sung.
And it stunk.
It stung.
The sweet melodies drifted over snow capped roofs and tickled his ear hairs and made him want to vomit.
Blech.
And yet.
And yet, it was his favorite time of year.
Hunting season.
With 365 days in a year there were only two that were Reginald's favorites.
His birthday was a day that he loathed. When one was more or less hated for 363 of the 365 days out of the year, one comes to understand quite quickly that the day of their birth is not a thing to be celebrated.
October 31 was the first of his favorite days. It was the day of monsters. When everyone else pretended to be what he knew himself to be. A day when ghosts and ghoulies, monsters and madmen were revered and emulated. It was a day during which he didn't have to pretend.
But his favorite day, oh yes, HIS day, came round just as folks were getting into their warm comfortable holiday moods.
The evening of December 5th was all his, and he made sure they never forgot it.
His horns were in good form tonight. He'd been letting them grow since September. He'd timed it so that he'd had a respectable set ready for Halloween, but it also meant that by the time December 5th rolled around they were simply striking.
His blood red robes were striking against his grey/white fur. He'd specifically NOT bathed since September either and the stench was just about right.
He hefted his chains and looped them around his shoulder before grabbing his big black sack and heading out.
He had become a legend in his own right.
The monster that parents warned their children about. The creature in the night.
Better watch out, right? Because Saint Nick won't give you presents and warm fuzzies if you don't, right?
WRONG.
Because if you are found to be wanting. If you are found to be guilty and without merit you could fall victim to Krampus.
Being the ugly duckling for the majority of his life left Reginald with a righteous feeling on these, the darkest nights of the year.
December 5 was a night of mischief. A night when young men and women masquerade as devils, wild-men, and witches. Intoxicated and bearing torches, costumed devils caper and carouse through the streets terrifying child and adult alike and roam the streets with rusty chains and bells. It is a night resonant with mythic power and primordial horror.
Reginald wasn't sure where the bells came from. Some misinformed soul who was caught up in the Christmas spirit probably threw together their monster costume using an old elf costume and the thing just took off.
Whatever.
And his chains weren't rusty.
They gleamed.
He found that the glint of light off of one of his chains caused people to do a double take. That double take was usually all the time he needed. He blended in with the crowds on this night. His "costume" always a standout (he figured authenticity had something to do with that), he still found that it was easy to fit in amongst drunks and idiots, not to mention the drunk idiots.
His hooves made the absolute best sound on the cobbled streets. Echoing lightly down alleyways and never drawing attention over the din of the partygoers.
He walked with purpose but was ever watchful. Each mark had to be chosen specifically and with care.
He watched a young man stumble out of the pub as he tugged his female counterpart by a length of c
hain. Not worth his time or energy. That kid wouldn't learn a thing.
A bubbly woman who had red cheeks to match her velvet dress crooned off key to a different song than that which floated on the air. Two old beggars tugged an old jacket back and forth-presumably to see who would get to keep warm overnight. And then his eyes landed on a little girl. four, maybe five, walking down the middle of the road eyes wide open and taking in the debauchery displayed before her.
Now, the roads had been closed off so traffic wasn't a problem, but she was well and truly alone.
No mother screaming her head off to find her in the crowd. No father busting down doors to demand what had happened to his little princess.
He had found his first mark.
Stela peered out of the large bag to see if the beast had returned. She ducked back in and pulled the top down tight over herself when the red robe appeared around the corner.
She heard some clanging about, some shuffling and a couple of bangs. And then there was silence.
After several minutes of nothing, she chanced another peek. The red robe hung from a handsome coat rack. A fire was crackling away in the fireplace, but a grate had been placed so that it was not exposed.
"Ah, there you are. I was wondering when you might come out and join me."
His voice was deep. Deeper than any she'd heard.
But gentle.
Curious, she sat up. There was a small table set with earthenware mugs and a basket of some kind of bread.
The beast had changed into simple brown pants that came down to his hooves and a loose knit shirt. He had half glasses and held a book in his right hand.
"You're not going to eat me are you?"
He shook his head, his horns shimmery in the firelight, "No. I'd much rather have some of this lemon cake. Wouldn't you?"
"But if you aren't going to eat me...why did you bring me here?"
He chuckled, "I have a tradition," he said, "and I must follow through. Every year I find a child whose parents have neglected them and opt to teach them a lesson. I bring the child to a warm place where I will watch after them and read to them one of my favorite Christmas stories.
"I'm Stela," the girl said as she climbed out of the sack and pulled herself up onto one of the stools by the table. She reached into the basket and pulled out a piece of the lemon cake, tore it in half, and offered him some.
He accepted and opened the book, "My name is Reginald, and this is "Fletcher the Christmas Moose", it's about an outcast, like me and a lonely little girl, like you…...It was a beautiful day in the forest…."
Kate glanced up shyly once she'd finished. That hadn't been expected. That she'd be called upon to weave them a tale. That was her partner's duty-pretty much always. But this was a safe place and the tale was one she knew well enough to add her own embellishments to.
She cautiously looked around and checked each of the faces around her trying to gauge their reactions. Alexis was smiling and shaking her head, Martha's face held a watery smile, and Castle...was actually still silent beside her.
That couldn't be good.
She turned and found his face, a combination of joy, some near-tears haunting the corners of his eyes, and silence still.
"Castle?"
"Castle?"
He hadn't known.
The moment she'd agreed to his on the fly demand that she tell a story he still hadn't known...how well she'd do. How much she revealed in it.
The moment she'd opened her mouth he'd been entranced by her voice. Maybe it was the tone of the story. Maybe it was just her storytelling voice-he didn't know yet. But when it dropped in both pitch and volume he'd been a voluntarily captive audience.
Kate Beckett had a dark side. This was more than a rebel teenager dark side. This was youknowthingsaboutculturalthingsthataredarkandscaryandgobumpinthenightwhenweexpectedhappycheerfulChristmas DARK. And yet-she spun it so that it was light as well. The happy ending stood. And that was telling too.
"Castle, you ok?" She snapped two fingers in front of his face.
"Yeah-yes. Wow. Kate. You just combined my two favorite holidays in a single story! How did you-did you prepare that?"
The blush that crept over her cheeks was immediate. "N..no. I, uh. I kind of took an idea-something my mom used to tell me stories about-and just sort of tweaked it. Believe me, the version I grew up with didn't end quite so….so..."
"Beautifully?"
"Alive."
"HA!" Alexis's snort caught them all by surprise. "Oh! You guys, I'm sorry. I just-HA!-I know exactly what she means...yeah Dad, would've been a different ending. Very. Kate, I like yours better." Her sniggering leveled off as she wiped the moisture from the corners of her eyes.
He grinned; happy. Happy that she was here. Happy that his family was here. Happy that she knew him and catered to his secret and not so secret sides. Even in just being herself. It was the best self he could ask for.
And she sometimes wasn't that.
Herself.
At least not in a sense of wholeness. Fully herself.
But that was a trait that was not unique to her. Human beings as a whole had become accustomed to wearing masks.
"You have a face…"
"What?"
Oops. He looked up sheepishly. "Sorry, didn't mean to say that out loud."
Her eyebrow shot up and she considered him briefly. "I have a face... What do I need a mask for?"
"Oh you're gorgeous." He couldn't help himself. It slipped unbidden right past his lips and was just a breath shy of what he really wanted to say, but the sentiment, he knew, was there. "You know Mirrormask?"
She leaned in and whispered conspiratorially in his ear, "I am a very important woman. I have a Castle.*" He gasped in delight and Alexis, as observant as ever laughed at his apparent shock.
"Hey, Dad, at least you're not on the outs with her...yet. Otherwise all of this mistletoe would be pretty pointless." At this remark Martha barked a laugh and subsequently shushed her, "Darling, I don't know that it hasn't been much more than a springboard. Ha! Oh well. Everything serves a purpose, yes?"
Everyone made small noises of approval as heads nodded in agreement. The after brunch food coma had well and taken over and a great feeling of comfort had Castle feeling like he was wrapped in a weighted blanket. He could seriously fall asleep right now if he just…
"Castle?"
"Wha- I wasn't? Hey." He jerked up slightly only to feel the soft pressure of Kate's palm holding him in place. Her face was about a foot from his own; her grin infectious. He felt the corners of his mouth inching up as she leaned closer still and pecked him quickly before pulling back.
"Hey yourself."
"Where'd everybody go?"
Her grin grew wider and she settled over his thighs. "They went upstairs. Something about an afternoon nap and a bubble bath...how was yours?"
"My?" He shook his head only then realizing the change in lighting outside. Not yet dark, but no longer was the bold mid-day sun glinting off of snow either.
"Your nap." She poked his nose playfully, "You've been out for nearly an hour. Your family gave up on you after fifteen minutes."
"Fifteen minutes? My family? Kate-you're," he struggled to sit up, dragging her weight on his thighs with him as he leaned against the arm of the couch, "what have you been doing?"
He'd let the your family comment slide for the contentment of having her on his lap whilst the other occupants of the house were otherwise..occupied.
Kate had watched it happen. The heaviness as it crept into his eyelids. His body sinking further down into the soft cushions on the couch. His muscles loosen as they relaxed. His breath as it slowed in his lungs and escaped out past his lips.
She'd carried on the Mirrormask conversation with Alexis comparing favorite quotes and whether or not either had been bitten by the 'run away to join the circus' bug. Martha had regaled them with a tale of her one night with a fire-breather who was passing through town. She'd kept the story tame for her granddaughter's sake, but Kate could tell that she was fooling no one.
They'd stood, all three, and stretched before the two redheads went upstairs to relax in private. Kate had a sneaky suspicion that it was solely for her benefit. So she took the opportunity and watched him. Studied him in the slowly disappearing light. It'd been quite refreshing to allow her eyes to trace over the lines of his face. To trip them down from the top of his head, down his brow and up and over his nose and chin, along his neck and past his broad shoulders and chest. She found that her breathing soon matched his as she watched the smooth up and down of his diaphragm. Then she allowed her eyes to wander down past his hips and along his legs and feet. He had man feet.
This was a thought that had not sooner made itself present in her thoughts. Really, it made sense. He was a man. He had feet. She knew that he was proportionally more or less correct. In all aspects. Perhaps with a more generous proportion here or there. But man feet. She didn't really have a problem with feet as she knew some people to have, but it just wasn't something she'd thought about much.
Kate shook her head, embarrassed with where her thoughts had taken her-and then only unto herself. Who cared about feet anyway?
Maybe Martha had had the right idea. Maybe she needed a bubble bath too. Difference being, hers wouldn't be completely private.
She lay a hand to his chest as she leaned towards him. "Castle?"
He jerked awake and started to sit. "Wha- I wasn't? Hey." He was kissably close. She grinned and watched his eyes soften as they lost their sleepy confusion and his mouth mirrored her own right before she gave in and stole what she believed to be hers.
"Hey yourself."
"Where'd everybody go?"
She moved to make herself more comfortable and settled herself over his thighs. His smile widened. Ha. "They went upstairs. Something about an afternoon nap and a bubble bath...how was yours?"
His brow furrowed for a moment. "My?" He shook his head and she watched the lights go on in that beautiful mind of his.
"Your nap." She poked his nose playfully, "You've been out for nearly an hour. Your family gave up on you after fifteen minutes."
"Fifteen minutes? My family? Kate-you're," he stopped mid- thought and she had a feeling she knew what he was going to say; happy that he dropped it for now. The weight of his promise on her hand. He struggled to sit up, pulling her forward as he leaned back against the arm of the couch, "what have you been doing?"
"Mmmm. Just relaxing a bit."
"You were watching me sleep weren't you?" he accused in jest.
"Maybe. But maybe I thought of another way I'd like to relax." She slid her legs back along his and rested her forearms on either side of his ribs, her cheek to his chest.
He twirled a strand of her hair between his thumb and forefinger and tugged gently. "Yeah? And what might that be?"
"I was just thinking that it's still early enough to make use of that sinfully large bathroom of yours and maybe take a short nap before dinner."
"Dinner? Whose turn is it?"
"It's your mom's, but she agreed to let Alexis have a go at a full meal. I offered to assist so actually...maybe we don't have so much time after all…" It was a little mean. Using his daughter as a means to get him moving so that they could 'relax'. But it worked.
"What!? No, plenty of time. There's plenty of time! C'mon," he practically dragged her from the couch and into their bedroom. When they crossed the threshold of the room and he'd closed the door behind them he gathered her up in his arms and squeezed tightly. "Thank you."
She understood. No more needed to be said about that for the time being.
They moved into the en-suite and he started the water in the luxurious tub. She added bubbles and turned to him to press a kiss into the space between his shoulder blades as he was bent to check the water temperature.
He chuckled lightly, turned and stood as he proceeded to gently divest her of her clothes, and her his. They still had a couple of hours.
AN: I wrote A Very Krampus Christmas for a prompt for a writing group that I'm in. Timing just happened to work out that it was presented on December 5th at our Christmas party :-)
The next chapter may have a slight delay in posting (but not MONTHS-sorry). Reviews are encouraging.
*The actual quote here is, "I am a very important man. I've got a tower." This is a repeated line by this character and varies slightly each time he says it. If you haven't seen Mirrormask you should. It's a bit dark, a bit quirky and bizarre, but really good!