December 25, 2016 by Lyn
This is a repost story originally posted in December of 2011.
It takes place in Year 1 of the Addergoole School, on Christmas.
Christmas morning dawned early, inasmuch as there was any “dawning” in Addergoole. Donegal rolled over and smiled at Aella, still sleeping soundly beside him.
He murmured a few Workings his father and grandfather had helped him work out, and the tree he’d hidden so carefully appeared and lit up, the presents appearing under it. He put an orchestral Christmas CD in, and paused while his lovely Aella woke to pray silently.
“Amen,” he murmured, just as she asked, “Donnie? Don… oh.”
“Merry Christmas, beautiful,” he told her.
“Merry Christmas, my love.” She smiles at him. “Tree, really? How did Santa get down here?”
He had to peer at her to be sure she was joking; he couldn’t always tell with her self-amused deadpan. “Santa had a little help,” he joked, “from a couple demons and, well, me.”
“You shouldn’t call your father a demon, you know.”
“I know. And you know I don’t where anyone but you can hear me.” Not wanting to have a fight now, he cuddled her close. “If you stay in here for a few minutes, I’ll go get breakfast.”
“Donnie,” she protested. “I Belong to you, not the other way around.”
“And it makes me happy to spoil you a little.” He kissed her cheeks, and ran a hand over her flat belly. “Both of you.”
“Aah,” she laughed. “I see how it is. Both of us will wait here for you then, cave man – unless we could shower while you make breakfast?”
A little embarrassed to have not thought of that himself, he nodded. “No opening presents, though,” he warned her. “Not until I’m back.”
“Then you don’t touch yours, either,” she smirked. “Oh, wait, you don’t know where I hid them.”
“I don’t,” he agreed. He hadn’t expected her to get him anything. “But I could make you tell me.”
“You won’t.” She kissed him in retaliation for the threat.
“I won’t,” he agreed, his head reeling a little from the kiss. Aella could make the chastest peck hot enough to make a preacher blush – and that hadn’t been chaste at all. He hurried into the kitchen before she could derail his plans further.
In the suite living room, Absalom laughed at his expression. “You know, I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to be in charge,” he teased. “And from the look on your face, I’m pretty sure you’re not.”
“Hrmph,” Donegal informed him. “Some day, you’ll have a woman you love, and you’ll wander around looking dazed and confused too.”
“God, I hope not.” He shook his head. “It’s good for you two, I mean… just not for me. Merry Christmas, by the way.” He picked up a wrapped present and tossed it at Donegal.
“What is it?”
“You’re supposed to open it, you dork. It’s… something to help with the fitting in,” his friend shrugged. “And I got your casserole thing started, so it’s almost ready. Couldn’t sleep,” he added uncomfortably.
“Thanks, man.” Donegal set the present on the counter and poured two glasses of orange juice, whistling “God rest ye Merry gentlemen.” It was going to be a good Christmas, he just knew it.