Hello again~ Hope everyone is doing well~ (^o^)/
Here's the next chapter~ Many thanks and a basket of virtual cookies goes to Nanaga for beta-ing :D
Disclaimer: Don't own any of the characters, concepts or storylines from Hoy Glory or Noel la Neige. Guess I own my OCs, though?
Warnings: Uh... spoilers for the manga? :D
Chapter 2: Christmas Comes But Once A Year
I made a break with my past,
But it seems my past still clings onto me.
oOoOoOoOoOo
I had hoped that I would never have to come here to fight ever again … I had hoped they would never come here again.
"S …Salt?"
"…Pierre?"
I never expected to meet him. I never expected it to be this way.
I never meant for this to happen.
After all these years, I had hoped we would never meet again.
oOoOoOoOoOo
Time seemed to freeze as the two men stared at each other in shock, one standing and one kneeling, while snowflakes fluttered gently past. Pierre got to his feet slowly as though afraid what he saw was a mirage that would disappear into thin air, ignoring the snow crystals that clung to his clothes and glittered in the rising moonlight.
Noël stood still as Pierre came closer, the other man staring at him intensely He watched the emotions passing through the warm brown eyes – cautious doubt replaced by recognition and surprise, to be overtaken by dawning joy. "It is you, Salt!" Pierre exclaimed, a wide grin splitting his face. "It's been almost ten years, hasn't it? You've gotten taller! It's so good to see you!" He embraced the blue-haired man in his happiness, not noticing that Noël made no move to return the greeting. Pierre released him and looked past Noël to the Reindeer behind him. "Rudolph! It's been a while, but you're looking the same as ever. How are you?"
Rudolph was torn between delight at seeing Pierre and his worry over Noël's behaviour, considering the vehemence his partner had shown earlier against this very meeting ever happening. Even so, his return smile was genuine as he reached out to shake the offered hand. "Quite well, considering the circumstances."
Looking ruefully at his own bleeding arm compared to the small lightning burn on the other man, Pierre had to agree. He glanced again at Salt. Why isn't he saying anything? The blue-haired man's face was in shadow, but the crimson bloodstain blossoming against the white of his coat was plainly visible, as was the gash across his hand. Pierre's eyes widened. "Ack! I'm sorry, I didn't realise – Please, come home with me, I'm sure Marie will be happy to fix you both up –"
"I don't need it."
Both Pierre and Rudolph looked at Noël in surprise, although Rudolph was markedly less taken aback at the vehemence in his partner's voice than Pierre. Salt? What's wrong? Are you angry? And why won't you look at me?
"Salt, this isn't the time to act tough –"
"I said, I don't need it. I don't want your help." Salt finally met his gaze, making Pierre step back in shock at the hardness in the silver eyes. Wha – what? What had happened to the Salt he knew?
"S – Salt –"
"Salt no longer exists, so stop calling me that! It's pissing me off! My name is Noël."
Pierre looked bewildered at Rudolph, hoping for some kind of explanation as to what was going on. This isn't the Salt I remember. The Reindeer sighed. "Noël, that's not a nice way to speak to your friend…"
"Shut up! He isn't my friend! We're going, Rudolph. Come on." Noël stalked off, ignoring the disapproving green-eyed frown he got in return. He brushed past Pierre, the bewildered look on the man's face beginning to mingle with hurt. Noël ground his teeth, guilt already beginning to make his chest twinge, but he kept walking and shoved the guilt away angrily. I didn't want to ever meet him while I was here! Dammit, Rudolph, you'd better not have had any hand in planning this! Or I'll – I'll – confiscate all your candy for a week! A month!
"Noël, what about the child?" Rudolph whispered, catching up to the departing Santa Claus.
"What about him?" Noël retorted mulishly. "He's just a brat of a kid."
"But the cauchemar –"
"Rudolph. I thought I made myself clear. We're going."
A hand reached out and grabbed Noël's arm, yanking him back. Unfortunately, whoever had grabbed him – Rudolph? – had caught a hold of his injured arm, making Noël hiss in pain. He spun with a growl to meet Pierre's brown eyes filled with determination. "Let go of me!"
"No." Pierre's grip tightened. "I know we haven't met for ten years, but that doesn't stop me from being your friend, no matter what kind of issue you apparently have with me! And as a friend, I'm worried about you. So unless you want me to drag you all the way back to my house, stop being so stubborn! We're all injured and I refuse to stand out here freezing into an iceblock trying to convince you. Rudolph, I know Marie has some kind of ointment for burns from last winter…"
Rudolph nodded. "Yes, I should probably get this fixed up…"
Noël eyed his partner flatly. "It's just a small burn."
The Reindeer touched the red patch on his arm gingerly and winced. "Ah, but it's actually quite bad. And it could get worse; that was quite an advanced cauchemar."
Noël's teeth ground almost audibly. I know what you're doing, you damn – "You're a terrible liar, Rudolph. If it's that bad, I can heal it with magic, there's no need to –"
"I'm not lying," Rudolph's green eyes were suspiciously innocent. "Besides, you still haven't mastered that spell yet, so maybe it's just safe to let Pierre see to it."
"If it's that bad, then let's go home and Yule can heal it!"
"Yule's away on a mission at the moment."
"How the hell do you know that?"
"Salt, come on! Stop being so stubborn!"
"I told you to stop calling me Salt! My name is Noël!"
Chanson blinked, stunned into silence as he watched the three adults argue. I thought I didn't understand before, but now my head is starting to hurt trying to figure this out. Pierre knows those weird guys? He coughed and shifted, but no-one seemed to pay him any mind as they continued arguing. The grey-haired boy sighed. At this rate, I'll be frozen solid before they finish, an' I don't fancy being an iceblock… He filled his lungs. "'AY! 'SCUSE ME!"
The three men stopped instantly, turning to look at Chanson. The blue-haired man – is his name Salt or Noël? – glared at him. Chanson blinked again in surprise. Silver eyes? He has silver eyes? What in the world is he?
Pierre's face was unreadable in the half-light, although concern marked his features when his eyes fell on Chanson's injured ankle. If we don't get that fixed up it could scar, or worse … Brown eyes looked over at his friend, confusion and sadness battling within him. Strangely, Salt looked sad now, weary instead of just angry. I don't know what's happened to him since then, but I'm not going to let him leave so suddenly now either! … Salt, what's wrong with you…?
He sighed and dropped his hand from Noël's sleeve. His blue-haired friend rubbed his arm as he looked away from Pierre, avoiding his gaze, but he didn't leave. I don't understand you anymore, Salt, but … I guess for now the only thing I can do is to play it your way. Rudolph and Noël blinked as the mahogany-haired man stepped back and bowed slightly. "Thank you for saving Chanson's life tonight." The former warmth was gone from his voice; something inside Noël cringed at the way Pierre spoke as though they were complete strangers. It's better this way, the Santa told himself harshly. I don't …
Pierre was still speaking. "I can't really thank you properly, but its Christmas Eve and my house is welcome to anyone." He straightened and walked over to Chanson. "Come on, let's get you home. That leg looks pretty bad –"
"It's fine, I can stand on it," the grey-haired boy grumbled, wincing and almost falling over when he tried to demonstrate.
"– so I'll carry you. No complaining."
Rudolph leant over to whisper in Noël's ear as Pierre knelt so that Chanson could clamber awkwardly onto his back. "Noël … Even if you want to avoid Pierre, you have a duty as a Santa Claus to protect the children…"
Noël 'tch'ed. Rudolph's right. I don't like what that cauchemar said. Which means… He sighed and tapped his staff, letting it return to its previous compass form before he walked over to join the other two. I have no choice about it, no matter how I hate it.
Both Pierre and Chanson looked up as he came over. Before Pierre could open his mouth, however, Chanson beat him to it. "Just what the hell is goin' on?" the boy growled.
Pierre frowned. "Chanson –"
"No! I'm cold, me ankle 'urts like crazy, I've been thrown 'round like a rag-doll and attacked by a creepy orange 'aired freak, only to be saved by two complete strangers who you seem t' know! What's goin' on?" Chanson glared at Noël from Pierre's shoulder. His guardian sighed, shoulders drooping slightly, causing Chanson to hurriedly tighten his grip lest he fall off.
"Chanson, these two are old friends of mine when I was around your age. This is S –"
"Noël," the blue-haired man cut in. "My name is Noël Christenbell and this is my partner, Rudolph."
"Rudolph? As in, the reindeer?" Chanson snorted.
All of the adults shared the kind of glance that Chanson hated. Don't treat me like a kid!
The crimson-clad man nodded, a smile on his face. "Yes, that's exactly right."
He can't be serious. I probably just misheard 'em before. There's no such thing as Santa or his reindeer. Chanson narrowed his eyes. His ankle was really beginning to throb now, but his desire for answers won out against the pain. "So who was that guy earlier? What was he? A …. A 'coshmar' or something, you said?"
Again, that shared look. If he hadn't been injured, he would have tried to kick the lot of them in the shins. Eventually Noël broke the silence with a sigh, silver eyes troubled. "A 'cauchemar'. It's too dangerous to explain here, when more might turn up at any moment. If I'm going to have to explain all this then I'd prefer to do it someplace warm as well."
"More?" Chanson repeated, although only Rudolph heard him. Noël stared challengingly at Pierre, who simply grinned in reply.
It was a start, at least.
oOoOoOoOoOo
The trip back to Pierre's house took place in silence so thick it was deafening. Only the crunch of their boots on the snow and Chanson's stifled winces of pain as his ankle was jolted broke through it. There was so much Pierre wanted to ask his old friend, ten years worth of questions to ask and things to tell him, but the chill that was emanating from Salt – or Noël, whichever – was an effective barrier against any form of conversation. So they walked side-by-side without a word being exchanged between them, leaving Pierre with only his own thoughts and the pain in his arm.
I don't understand … Ten years ago, when he left, we were friends, weren't we? I thought we were, and yet … Every year, without fail, he'd come back at Christmas to see Charles, but in all this time he's never bothered to come see me… Maybe … he just wants to forget… but even so, Salt, why do you hate me? And why have you turned up again after all this time?
Noël couldn't speak. They were walking down streets that he had known – still knew, in fact – like the back of his hand. Even in the forlorn snow, a thousand and one memories came to plague him, more pouring in to replace the ones he shoved away. That's why I never wanted to come back here more than I had to. I'm not that person anymore. Salt Lothrick no longer exists. It'd be better for everyone if that guy just disappeared from everyone's memories. Especially Pierre's. Silver eyes glanced surreptitiously at the man walking beside him. It was a shock to see how Pierre had changed over the years, although Noël knew that he himself no longer looked as he had ten years ago. Pierre was still taller than him, though his chestnut hair was longer now, falling past the nape of his neck. The familiar face had matured into adulthood, but the smile that lit his face and the kindness in his eyes hadn't changed at all. Noël wished they had, wished he had some reason for hating his friend to offer Rudolph. Why the hell should I need a reason to avoid someone? He thought mutinously, hidden fingers clenching into a fist. Dammit, Pierre, couldn't you have picked another kid to rescue?
Why had Pierre come, anyway? Was the kid really his son? Noël had given up praying a long time ago, but he mentally pleaded to any higher power that this wasn't the case. As soon as possible, as soon as I get the chance, I want to leave. The young boy shifted on Pierre's back, a sullen scowl written heavily across his face. At being carried, Noël guessed. Why would a cauchemar be after this kid? He seems perfectly normal to me. But then, I was perfectly normal when they came after me all those years ago.
He glanced at Pierre again. His old friend didn't appear to be too badly off: his coat was reasonable quality, certainly better than it had been when they were children. Noël looked away as he realised Pierre was wearing the old hat Noël had given him when he'd left.
"I won't need this anymore, here, you take it."
… He still has it? Shame bubbled up in the pit of his stomach and his frown deepened.
Rudolph sighed as he followed behind them both, keeping an eye out for more cauchemar. I wish there was some way to get them to talk. This silence is awful. The scowl on Noël's face was getting darker by the minute, making his partner worry. I was afraid this would happen.
The grey-haired child suddenly gave a start and tried to sit up, his hand going to his coat. Pierre winced. "Please watch out for my arm, Chanson."
"I just remembered somethin'," the boy explained, rummaging in a pocket carefully. "I 'ope I didn't drop it when 'e threw me…" He gave a small exclamation and pulled something out f his coat: a lollipop, of all things. The sweet scent of sugar reached the Reindeer's sensitive nose, making him drool in hunger.
"Marie already had dinner ready when I came to look for you, so maybe you shouldn't eat it now," Pierre suggested. Chanson snorted in reply.
"This ain't for me. I thought Peel'd like it, but…" he trailed off. Chanson glanced from the candy in his hand to Noël and then finally to Rudolph, who was staring at the food. It's probably just me imagination. "Before Dacqx attacked me –"
"Dacqx?" Noël cut in, one eyebrow raised questioningly. Chanson's chin raised slightly in challenge, his voice still muffled by his striped scarf.
"'Is name. 'E said it was Da – Dak – Dacqouise or somethin', Dacqx for short." Chanson tugged the scarf down so he could speak more clearly. "Before 'e turned up, there was this pipsqueak kid who looked like 'im. An' I got this," he lifted the lollipop slightly, "from that kid. But since 'e tried t' kill me, I dunno if this is alright, see? I don't want t' give Peel anythin' bad."
Well, he's not stupid, Noël thought, signalling to Rudolph that he could reply. As the Reindeer reached for the sweet to get a closer look, Noël murmured in a warning tone, "Don't eat it."
Rudolph sighed and patted the bag he carried – I already have enough sweets here, Noël – before examining the lollipop. "It looks fine," the silver haired man said eventually. "I can't smell the taint of anything from their world." He handed the lollipop back to Chanson, who still looked sceptical.
"Rudolph knows his candy," Noël told him. "If he says it's safe, then it's safe. Don't worry."
Looking slightly more reassured, Chanson pocket the candy again. "…Thanks." This was directed at Rudolph, who smiled in reply. The boy's face immediately dropped into a suspicious frown. What do they want? I don't trust them, even if they saved me.
Now that the atmosphere wasn't so strained, Pierre opened his mouth to speak to Noël once and for all, only to be distracted by something up ahead. A dark-haired young woman stood at the top of a short flight of steps, the door behind her slightly ajar and letting light spill across the snow-covered street. She was looking up and down the street anxiously, hands smoothing invisible creases from her apron. As they drew closer, she looked around and a great wave of relief passed across her face. "Pierre! Did you find him?"
She hurried down the steps to meet them. "Chanson! Oh, thank goodness! We were so worried…" Chanson looked away as she smoothed his fringe back from his face, somehow managing to look shame-faced and surly at the same time. "Are you alright?"
"'M fine," he muttered. "'Cept for me ankle, anyway." Chanson didn't want to be fussed over, especially not in front of his present company. He glared at Noël, who happened to be watching the exchange. Stop starin' at me! Noël glared back at him, eyebrow twitching in annoyance. Stupid brat!
"Marie, Chanson only hurt his ankle a bit, he'll be fine once it's fixed up," Pierre said with a soothing smile, adjusting his hold on Chanson as the boy began to slip. Marie's eyes, already filled with concern, widened.
"Pierre, your arm!"
"Ahaha, it's nothing," Pierre said, trying to hide his arm. "Just a scratch." Marie's mouth set stubbornly as she seized his arm, exposing it to better light. The tear in his sleeve and the bloody gash beneath it looked even worse than they had in the semi-gloom. Even Chanson winced. I didn't ask 'im to jump in and save me! He thought stubbornly.
"You call this a scratch?" Marie demanded. "Inside, both of you, so I can fix you up. Pierre, what happened? Why are you both hurt?" Brown eyes glanced over Chanson's head to Noël and Rudolph, who were standing a few paces away. "And who are they?"
Pierre half-turned, Marie still holding onto his arm. "Ah, I'm sorry." He beckoned to the other two with his head to come over. They obeyed, Noël with more reluctance than Rudolph. "These are the people who saved Chanson when he got attacked earlier, Rudolph and –"
"Noël," the blue-haired man interrupted, eyeing Pierre with suspicion and making the brunette sigh. "Noël Christenbell. Pleased to meet you," he added politely.
"These are the friends I told you about so long ago as well," Pierre clarified, making Noël frown at him briefly. What had Pierre said about them?
Now hat he was closer, Noël got a better look at Marie. She looked around his own age but was shorter, reaching Pierre's shoulder at most. Dark brown hair fell to her shoulders and framed her face; her brown eyes shared the same kindness that dwelt in Pierre's. Noël watched the way she and Pierre stood close together, her hand resting on his arm as she blinked in surprise.
"A – Attacked?" Marie gasped, putting a hand to her mouth. "My goodness … Oh, but you're hurt too! Please come in, I'll see to your shoulder. Thank you so much for saving Chanson… and Pierre too, I suspect."
Pierre had a look of mock hurt on his face. "Aw, Marie…"
"Ah… It's no problem," Noël replied, feeling thrown off balance by the obvious sincerity in her words.
Marie was having none of it. "Come on, inside before you all catch your death of cold." Marie ushered them all towards the steps, bringing up the rear behind Noël and Rudolph. Noël let himself be herded inside with a great feeling of reluctance. How many times in the past had he come up these stairs with Charles? Even the door was still the same, down to the scratch across the top where a rogue stone tossed up by a carriage had marked it.
"Noël, are you alright?" Rudolph whispered.
"Yeah." He lifted his hand from the cut on his shoulder, grimacing at the blood staining his glove. "My shoulder's fine."
That's not what I meant and you know it, Rudolph thought, brows lowering in disapproval. He was interrupted by their arrival at the door, following Pierre inside. Warmth washed over Noël as he stepped through the door, looking around. It still looked the same, but somehow … different. The house seemed brighter and filled with more energy than he remembered. He frowned as the sound of voices in another room reached his ears. Voices? But…
A boy with a head of fair hair poked his head around the corner, his eyes lighting up upon seeing the new arrivals. "Chanson! You're back!" He called over his shoulder to somewhere further back in the house. "Hey guys! Papa found him!" The blonde guy came fully into the room as Pierre let Chanson down, running over to clap a hand on the grey-haired boy's shoulder. "Back before the lamplighters, huh? Liar."
Chanson stuck his tongue out at the younger boy. "Will…" William laughed, slinging an arm around Chanson's shoulders. A younger girl clutching a bear peeked shyly into the room. Spying Chanson, she rushed across to hug him with a gleeful "Big brother!" thankfully choosing his non-injured side to tackle.
"Hey, Peel," Chanson replied, returning the hug.
Noël watched in astonishment as another three came racing into the room, crowding around Pierre and Chanson. The latter's sullenness couldn't stand up against the obvious excitement facing him; he smiled for the first time since their meeting. Pierre returned the hug of the brown-haired boy and ruffled the red locks of another, grinning widely. Noël blinked several times, wide-eyed, before edging closer to Pierre as the other man straightened. "Pierre…"
"Hmm?"
"… Are all these kids yours?"
"Huh?" Pierre looked around at Noël in shock, before laughing weakly. "No, no, nothing like that. Ah – hang on." He raised his voice. "Everyone, these are my friends – uh – Papa Noël and Papa Rudolph."
"Hullo~" chorused the gaggle of children with various degrees of enthusiasm. Noël blinked in surprise, managing to raise a hand and give a short wave.
"Hey," he replied weakly, echoed by a more enthusiastic "Hello~" from Rudolph as the Reindeer beamed. Pierre nodded, continuing on.
"S – Noël, Rudolph, this is William and his sister, Peel. The red-head is Oliver; the brunette Phillip; that's Ivy over there, and of course, you've already met Chanson." His hand rested on Chanson's head, making the boy scowl briefly.
"Come on, everyone, give them space," Marie ordered "Ivy, can you get the medicine kit, please?"
"What did you do yourself, Chanson?" Will laughed. Chanson grinned in reply.
"Oh yeah," the boy said suddenly. "Here ya go, Peel, for singin' so well this mornin'." Peel's eyes were wide as she accepted the lollipop, grinning up at the boy she called her older brother.
"Hey, hey, what about me? I sang too," William protested, poking Chanson in the arm.
"You call that horrible caterwaulin' singin'?" Chanson retorted. "I think the old 'uns on that street are still gettin' their hearin' back." They continued trading comebacks as William helped Chanson limp into the next room after Pierre had taken his coat and hat. Marie left them all, herding the children back into the other room and thanking Ivy as the younger girl brought the medicine.
As everyone filed out of the room, Pierre took his own coat off and hung it up along with his cap, gesturing for Noël and Rudolph to do the same. "Marie's gonna want to see to your shoulder, so it'll be easier without your coat."
Unable to argue with the logic of that, Noël added his white coat to the pile, revealing the white shirt and red vest he wore underneath. As Rudolph placed his fluffy scarf on the rack, Noël asked, "So, what do you mean, 'nothing like that'?"
"Your wife seems very nice," commented Rudolph. Pierre jumped, face going bright red.
"My – my wife? Marie? Ah, no, no, we're not married –"
"Then your girlfriend seems very nice," Noël replied, grinning at his friend's embarrassment. For a moment, caught up in teasing Pierre, it almost felt like nothing had changed. Then he remembered he didn't want to be here, didn't want to encourage the renewal of this friendship. We'll both be better off that way.
Pierre hit Noël gently on his uninjured shoulder. "Marie isn't my girlfriend, idiot. She's a neighbour who's been helping me out for the past few years." He moved off into the house, talking over his shoulder. Noël and Rudolph followed, looking at the Christmas decorations hung around the house. "See, since you left, and with the fever that went through the city a few years ago, more kids have ended up on the streets I wanted to help them somehow. Then Marie suggested we join our houses together and take care of some of them… Ivy is the only one blood-related, she's Marie's niece. But we've been looking after the rest for about three-years now."
"So all the children here are orphans?" Rudolph asked, looking sad. Pierre looked back at him and nodded silently. "How awful…"
Chanson sat patiently as Marie finished cleaning the wound on his ankle. The cream she dabbed on it made the boy wince. As she bandaged it up again, Marie spoke to Chanson although she dressed Pierre and the others as well. "Luckily, the cuts aren't too deep, so it should heal quickly. Still, it's better to take it easy for the next few days, alright?"
"'Kay," Chanson mumbled. "Thanks." He hopped off the chair as soon as she was finished, limping over to join William and Peel.
Marie looked up, a smile at the corner of her mouth. "O~kay. Papa's turn. Please set a good example for everyone."
Pierre sighed and sat down, offering his arm for inspection. "Yes, Mama Marie." As Marie rolled his sleeve up, he looked up at Noël. "You're looking well." A pause. "Well, except for the shoulder. What's with the monocle, though? Has your eyesight gone bad in your old age?"
"Why, you –" Noël 'hmph'ed and readjusted said monocle. "I read. A lot. Amongst other reasons."
Rudolph, meanwhile, had found himself the object of Peel's unwavering stare. After a while, when it began to unnerve him somewhat, he crouched down beside her. "What is it?" he asked, voice gentle. Wide blue eyes continued to contemplate him in silence, until the young girl solemnly reached out a hand to pat him on the head. Rudolph blinked in surprise and the girl grinned abruptly, her entire face lighting up.
"Your hair is really soft and pretty," she whispered, as though imparting a great secret. Rudolph sweat-dropped, unsure how to take such an unexpected compliment.
"Ah, thank you …"
"There you go, all fixed up." Pierre flexed his arm, thanking Marie as he stood up. "Mr Christenbell, your turn."
"I'm fine," protested Noël. "And forget the 'Mr', just Noël is fine."
Rudolph looked over at his partner. "Noël, stop being stubborn, or else Holly will be after me for not protecting you better."
"How could I let an injured man leave here hurt on Christmas Eve?" Marie asked. "Please, stay as long as you need to. Any friend of Pierre's is a friend of mine."
Noël hesitated, looking between Marie and Rudolph before sitting down. "Fine." Not looking at Marie, he sat down, unbuttoning his shirt and vest far enough down to expose his shoulder. Marie winced in sympathy; the spikes of the whip had cut deep, while all around the skin was swollen and an angry red. The edges of the gash were already starting to turn a deep purple. I don't want your sympathy… He hissed in pain despite Marie's efforts to be gentle.
"Mama, the cookies are ready!" red-haired Oliver called.
"I'll get it," Pierre said before Marie could move, lifting Oliver onto the bench and bending to open the oven.
"Thanks. Noël, can you lift your arm so I can bandage it properly?" Noël did as instructed, wincing as his shoulder protested. As she worked, Marie kept talking. "I realised I never introduced myself properly. I'm Marie Walker, Pierre's neighbour and I help him out with the children." She tied off the bandage. "There you go. Same as Chanson: take it easy for the next few days, okay?"
"Thank you. Rudolph, your turn." Noël's voice was wry. "Since your burn is quite bad…" The Reindeer looked up from his seat on the floor, Peel busy playing with his hair.
"Peel, stop bothering the man," William said, coming over to rescue Rudolph. "Santa won't come if you're naughty."
Chanson snorted quietly, ignoring the stern look William gave him. Peel's big blue eyes looked up at the grey-haired boy. "Big brother, is that true?"
"Yeah." Chanson scratched his chin. "So you'd better go to bed straight away tonight, 'cos he only comes when you're asleep."
Noël and Rudolph exchanged amused glances as Marie bandaged up the Reindeer's arm.
"On that note, I think everyone should get to bed early tonight. The sooner you go to sleep, the sooner it's Christmas, right?" Marie smiled, tickling Phillip who giggled uncontrollably. "Oliver, did you get the food out for Santa?"
"Yup!" the boy said proudly. "Milk 'n' cookies, see?"
"But what about the reindeer?" Peel asked solemnly. "What do they eat? Won't they be hungry too?"
"I'm sure the reindeer will be happy to eat the cookies too," Pierre told the boy with a wink at Rudolph, who was trying not to laugh. "Marie, would you be able to see the kids to bed? I need to talk to Chanson."
Chanson looked apprehensive as a chorus of "Good night"s filled the room and the other children disappeared up the narrow flight of stairs. When they had gone, Pierre motioned the boy into the living room. He was followed by Noël and Rudolph, the former having retrieved his coat and cleaned the blood off it by magic.
The grey-haired boy perched on the edge of a seat, watching suspiciously as Rudolph examined the Christmas tree in the corner of the room, haphazardly decorated and clearly done by the entire 'family'. Noël looked around the room as he buttoned his coat up again. "I don't remember this room being in your house…"
"That would be because we're technically now in Marie's house, not mine," Pierre replied as he watched Noël pace around, poking up the fire in the grate as he talked.
How long are they going t' sit here an' yatter? Chanson thought with a scowl. I want t' know what's going on! "Oi! You still ain't answered me question!"
Noël half-turned to regard him with cool silver eyes. "And that was…?"
"What the 'ell is goin' on 'round 'ere?"
The blue-haired man sighed. "It's a pain, but I guess I'll have to start from the very beginning to explain. First things first, kid. I answer your questions, you answer mine. Got it?"
Chanson's face darkened. "Don't call me a kid; I'm fourteen an' two months!"
"It doesn't matter since I'm still older than you either way. Rudolph, stop admiring the tree and get back over here." It was the silver-haired man's turn to sigh as he moved over to lean beside the fireplace behind Noël. The fire in the grate crackled merrily, flames leaping and dancing. "Chanson was your name, right? Well, Chanson?"
"Chanson Libèrten," the boy replied stubbornly. "Pierre ain't me dad."
"I don't care. Do we have a deal?" Noël asked, any momentary relief that his earlier prayer had been answered destroyed as he resisting the urge to shake the kid. This is why I hate kids, especially brats like him!
"Fine." Chanson crossed his arms. "You know, I really don't like you."
Noël gritted his teeth, ignoring the smiles that both Pierre and Rudolph were trying to hide. "That makes two of us, kid. I hate annoying brats like you. Unfortunately," his voice grew louder at this point and he held up a hand to stop Rudolph, who seemed about to interrupt, "you're in a troublesome situation that I'm obliged to help with. Allow me to reintroduce myself. Noël Christenbell, 29th successor to the Santa Claus name of the North Pole. This is my Reindeer partner, Rudolph."
Chanson stared at him for a moment, the stretching silence broken only by the crackling of the fire. Santa Claus … and a Reindeer …? "So, you're saying you're Santa Claus?"
"Yes, that's right." And I would so cross you off my quota list if you ever appeared on it, brat.
"And that guy's a reindeer? He doesn't look like one."
"That's because I'm in my human form at the moment," Rudolph explained from behind Noël. "Pleased to make your acquaintance once again, Chanson."
More silence. Chanson looked from Noël to Rudolph and back again. The corner of his mouth twitched and his shoulders began to shake. They have got to be kidding me… What kind of a lame joke is that? Everyone knows Santa is just a myth for little kids! A burst of scornful laughter escaped him, making Noël's hands clench in annoyance. "You're joking, right? I'm sure you impress the young 'uns with that, but I stopped believing in Santa when I was eight. There's no way something as stupid as that old myth could exist."
"Stupid myth, huh?" Noël's eyes were a bright, burning silver as he looked at Chanson. "Then what was that that attacked you?"
"How the hell would I know? Why don't you tell me?" Chanson retorted.
"A cauchemar."
"What the hell is that?"
Noël sighed and glanced away, firelight playing over his suddenly sombre features. "They were once the souls of humans. Humans who suffered and killed themselves in their pain… That pain, that sadness from their life twisted their souls in death until they became monsters, set on attacking children who still had pure souls. Souls with a purity theirs now lacked." For a second, and old sadness, a note of old pain crept into his voice and expression. Noël's voice hardened as soon as he went on, making Chanson wonder if he had misheard that sour note amongst his words. "As a Santa Claus, it's one of my duties to fight these monsters and protest the children of the world."
Chanson was already shaking his head before Noël was finished. "I don't believe you. There's no way –"
"It's the truth."
All eyes swivelled towards Pierre, who sat forward as he met Chanson's gaze. "Cauchemar exist, Chanson. I met one once before, almost ten years ago." Out of the corner of his eye, Chanson saw Noël flinch and glare a warning at the mahogany-haired man. "Believe me, there's no reason Sa – Noël has to lie about this. It's his job, and Rudolph's. If that man was a cauchemar – of which I have no doubt, judging by his actions – then he was after you, Chanson."
"And they'll come after him again," Noël added, drawing everyone's attention once again. Even Rudolph looked surprised, tilting his head to the side slightly in a questioning manner.
"But cauchemar go after any child with a pure soul, right? They might go after anyone, not Chanson in particular," Pierre protested. "Plus … from what I remember Rudolph saying, all the successors have been found now, haven't they? So surely there's no reason for them to chase Chanson the way they did with –"
Noël cut in over the top of him. "The cauchemar – what did you say his name was, kid? Dacquoise? – seemed to be after him specifically. 'Damn you both, I'm after the kid, so just get out of my way!' was what I believe he said. And what he said when he disappeared also troubles me."
"But why are they after me?" Chanson cried. "I … I don't have a pure soul." Too much has marked me for that. "What could they possibly want with me?" Even as he spoke, Dacqx's voice sneered in his memory. 'You, brat, have something that belongs to me.'
"What did Dacqx say to you before we turned up?" Noël demanded. Chanson looked away, mouth closed stubbornly. "He must have said something, all cauchemar talk too much." When Chanson still refused to answer, Noël grabbed his vest. "Speak, dammit!"
Pierre was up in a flash; his own hand gripping Noël's outstretched arm. His brown eyes were serious as they met furious silver. "Peace, Salt, it's been a hard night for the kid. No need to be rough."
'You have a power that I want, and you're gonna give it to me even if I have to kill you to get it.' Chanson bit his lip. "He – he knew my name." He glared up at Noël, the latter still gripping the front of his vest. "He knew my name. He tried to kill me! I ain't got nothin' o' 'is! Not a god-blessed damn thin'!" Tears welled unshed in his eyes. "I don't believe anythin' you say! There's nothin' special 'bout me an' there never will! Leave me alone!" Chanson tore himself from Noël's grip and darted out of the room despite stumbling a bit at the doorway.
Pierre sighed into the silence left behind, dropping his grip on Noël's arm. "Well, that could have gone better… You were too harsh with him, Salt. What happened?"
"Don't call me Salt," Noël snapped, rubbing his arm. His gaze was directed at the door the boy had left through. "Do you think he'll accept it as truth with time?"
"Time he doesn't have, if you're right." Pierre sat back in his armchair. "Who knows? Chanson's been a difficult one from the start. It's almost impossible to figure out what he's thinking." And arguing with him like that is the one sure way to put his back up. "I must say, I find it a bit hard to believe myself. Why would they go after Chanson? Why haven't they gone after him before now?"
"Maybe they have and we just didn't know about it," Rudolph spoke up. The fire beside him leapt and flared; the patterns of light that played over Rudolph's face made him look somewhat sinister.
"Now that's a thought," Pierre sighed. Noël dropped onto the seat that Chanson had vacated, leaning back and closing his eyes. Rudolph's green eyes glowed in the firelight.
"What happened to Chanson?" the Reindeer asked. "How did he end up here?"
"Hmm…" Brows lowered, Pierre thought for a few seconds. "I … don't know much about his past," he replied slowly. "Chanson barely talks about himself and I'm not sure even his friend William knows much more than Marie and I do. From what I've heard, and what he told me, he was orphaned when his parents died of the fever that swept through the town six years ago. He's probably been living on the streets ever since until he came to live with us. He's a lot wilder than you were then, Salt. If it weren't for Will and Peel's persuasion, I doubt Chanson would have even accepted my offer for him to live here."
An orphan on his own from that age? Noël wondered. At least … at least I had Charles, when our parents died… Damn, I don't want to feel sorry for him! Closing off from the world like that is stupid! I can't believe what I'm going to have to say… Noël swallowed. "He needs to come with us."
"What?" both Pierre and Rudolph exclaimed. "Why?" Pierre continued; Rudolph merely leaned back, accepting Noël's judgement even if he didn't understand the reasoning. Noël, you say you hate kids and that you never wanted to meet Pierre again, but you're willing to protect the child that Pierre watches over. Is it just duty? Or does the memory of Charles still haunt you?
"Because he'll be safe at the North Pole," Noël explained. "Until we figure out why the cauchemar are after him. It doesn't feel normal."
"Chanson's too young to be going off like that," Pierre argued.
"I was the exact same age ten years ago!" Noël retorted, voice rising. "Dacqx told me, 'he will be ours soon enough.' Don't you think that Chanson's in danger? If you really want to act like a father, shouldn't you be concerned with his safety above all?"
Pierre's eyes narrowed. The momentary anger gave way to weariness almost instantly. "… If Chanson agrees to come, then I guess I can't stand in anyone's way. But you're not to take him there against his will. He has a family here, even if he doesn't acknowledge it."
"I'm not a kidnapper," Noël retorted. "He'd better come, though. No matter what he thinks, he has something the cauchemar are after, and they won't stop until they get it." 'He will be ours soon enough.' "He won't be able to run and hide from them forever." His voice was bitter.
"Salt…" Noël didn't want to see the compassion in Pierre's eyes. For that matter, even Rudolph was looking at him with something akin to sad understanding. He turned away from both of them irritably.
"You know, you remind me a lot of Chanson. Or he reminds me of you."
Noël whirled around, silver eyes widening with confusion behind his monocle. "Huh? Me? Like that kid? How?"
"Well …" Pierre scratched his head. He hadn't actually intended to bring this up, but he'd just blurted out the first thing that had come to mind. In for a shilling, in for a pound, I suppose. "You're both silent. Neither of you share your feelings with others." Which is a shame, because you used to be able to tell me anything. "You both carry an invisible burden on your soul that you don't want others to see, and hate it when they do."
Noël snorted, blue hair falling across his eyes. "You haven't even seen me in ten years, Pierre. Don't make assumptions about me."
"Exactly." There were undercurrents in Pierre's quiet tone; controlled anger and hurt, demanding and questioning. "I haven't seen you in ten years. Why is that?"
"I've been busy –"
"And yet you have time to come every Christmas to see Charles!" Rudolph shot a 'told you so' look in his partner's direction, which Noël meticulously ignored.
"How do you know –?"
"You're not the only one who goes to see him, you know. Every year I'd see the things you left behind." The brunette's voice grew softer. "Look, I'm not attacking the fact that you visit him –"
"Like hell you have the right to, anyway!"
"Salt, calm down! I just want to know why you never bothered to see your best friend. Was it something I did? I really don't get it, Salt. Give me a good reason as to why and I'll never ask again."
A long silence followed, winding around the two figures that stood silently staring at one another. Rudolph glanced from one to the other, noting the mulish stubbornness set in both features. He sighed mentally. This is not good. I was really afraid something like this would happen.
"…I'm not your friend Salt anymore," Noël said finally. "Please thank Marie for her hospitality." Before Pierre or Rudolph could react, the blue-haired mage had spun on his heel and stalked out of the room. The distant slam of the front door echoed in Pierre's mind as he stared after his former friend, now so far away for a reason that he could not understand.
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Chapter End
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Next Time: Chapter 3 – O Come, All Ye Faithful
Hunted by monsters from fairytales and refusing to turn to an old myth to help, if Chanson won't believe in his current situation then he'll just have to learn it the hard way … but at what price?
Like snowflakes that twirl in the winter breeze, their fates are no longer their own.
As always, thanks for reading! :3