Yu-Gi-Oh is the property of Konami and Kazuki Takahashi, and this work is only a very appreciative celebration, from which we hope to derive no profit of any kind.
Yami had never seen the Jardines' dining room full to capacity before. The big, echo-y room, the dining table which seemed to stretch for miles on ordinary nights, with the family huddled at one end like stranded penguins on an ice floe, these things made sense now, with half the town here for dinner. The guest list was like a mix of the Earl's taste and Yuugi's. Every member of the Jardine family within a hundred miles was here, and what little Drumfries had, in the way of an aristocracy as well. In addition though, the room was crowded with ordinary people, with the shopkeepers and professionals, and some working men and women as well, all the people Yuugi and his mother managed to make friends with, and then remembered at Christmastime.
The room was a mass of glitter. Candles glinted off the polished silver and gleaming china of the serving dishes. The crystal chandelier, polished to a fare-the-well, threw shards of light across the table. Such few of the aristocracy who were here, kept up the leitmotif with their jewelry, and as for the commoners? Well their smiles glittered enough to keep up with anyone. They were the happy smiles of people having a good time. The aristocrats were smiling the same way. – Even Yuugi's father was smiling, and when he looked down the table at his son, his face seemed to have a new tenderness to it, Yami thought. He hoped they'd had a chance to make up; he'd never be able to tell by looking at Yuugi, who's blissful look had barely changed since he'd gotten up this Christmas morning, but he made a mental note to ask him about it later, when they were alone.
The food was a triumph. Yami knew the cook, Mrs. Buttons pretty well by now, Yuugi having made sure that their relationship went well beyond his going in and cadging treats or checking what was for dinner. She'd be taking pride in this display, he thought. Fashionable French dishes, dainty soufflés and the finest, tenderest asparagus napped in creamy hollandaise sauce, crowded cheek-by-jowl with all the elements of a traditional English Christmas dinner. The turkey was there, oozing chestnut stuffing, with a huge dish of bread sauce beside to go with it. A heaping dish of roast potatoes sat next to a gravy boat the size of an ocean liner. Cranberry sauce gleamed like rubies. And the delicious aroma of mince pies and Christmas pudding floated over the entire meal, reminding guests not to eat too much during the meal.
Aristocrats ate like they were commoners. Commoners ate like they were never going to see food again. Joey Wheeler personally disposed of three helpings of turkey and a good bushel of roast potatoes, Yami watched him do it. And the Earl unbent himself from his usual dignity enough to devour a plateful of turkey breast, and then turn and break the wishbone he'd just uncovered with the youngest guest at the table, Duke Devlin's four-year old son Jimmy.
Yami for his part, enjoyed the meal to the utmost, and the delicious wine that went with it, and, finally, the Christmas crackers, that exploded with sharp snaps, and showered the table with mottoes, and fantastic, brightly-colored paper hats. He basked in the warm friendliness that the Countess offered, and took heart at the signs he saw, that the Earl might have left his grudge against Yuugi behind. But what made him happiest, was having Yuugi next to him and remembering how he'd stood up to his parents, so that they could be together.
As the Earl stood, tapping his glass with his fork to announce his annual Christmas speech, Yami threw one look over the table at Pegasus: The so-called Colonel Crawford looked as comfortable as ever, of course, flirting with the ladies on either side of him, and throwing repartee back and forth with the gentlemen, but Yami wondered what was going on behind his mane of perfectly-coiffed hair and his elegant smile. He was feeling some twinges of sorrow at the thought of saying good-bye to his long-time partner himself, and he wondered if Pegasus was feeling the same way. Not that he'd ever know by looking at the man; Pegasus had worn his conman's face for so long that sometimes Yami wondered if he had another any more.
A touch on his knee under the table; Yami didn't need to look to know who it was. Yuugi caught his eye, understanding his thoughts, it seemed, without him having to say anything. He gave Yami's hand a squeeze, his own face mirroring Yami's melancholy for a moment. They were both saying good-bye to someone they cared about this Christmas, Yami thought, but they had each other at least, and it was time to look toward the future. Feeling comforted, he looked up again, in time to see the Earl looking their way, with a proud wag of his head, and speaking of "my sons". He turned and looked around the table: The Countess' gaze was on her husband, her face fond. Duke Devlin was watching him as well, his arm around his wife's shoulder, and his expression that of a proud family man. These were his people now, Yami thought. They were his family. Without doing any disrespect to his own father and mother, and to the Egyptian heritage he'd been raised in, he took pleasure at the thought. He was going to like being a Jardine.