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Caleb blew into his hands, hoping the slight heat might help with his painfully stiff fingers. It was deep winter, and Xhorhas seemed to be even colder than the Empire. Simply walking back from Essek’s house, while not very far, made his entire body tense with the cold.
The Shadowhand had let Caleb study some of his books today. To be honest, Caleb could have stayed there much longer than he had, but after seven hours Essek had told the Zemnian that it was getting late and he should head back to his own home with a soft I’m sure you’ll all be celebrating tonight, no?
Celebrating. It wasn’t until that comment that Caleb had realised that winter meant Weihnachten. Although, come to think of it, he wasn’t entirely certain the other members of his make-shift family even knew about Weihnachten. It was very much a Zemnian thing, after all. Of course, almost every culture had some form of holiday during this time, but Weihnachten.
He had forgotten about it last year, too busy with being pirates and changing the group dynamics and, well, he hadn’t exactly been in the mood for any form of celebrations. As he cut a corner on the street, coming ever closer to the Xhorhaus, he wondered if any of the Mighty Nein had remembered the holiday season this year. Jester might. She always seemed so happy, and her patron god might have reminded her.
Oh, he hoped she hadn’t done too much. Then again, it might be nice, seeing what sort of traditions she had picked up from the Menagerie Coast.
Beauregard was perhaps the one with most knowledge of Weihnachten. He knew celebrations were different all around the Empire, but perhaps culture had been part of her education with the Cobalt Soul. Or perhaps not.
His chest tightened in pain as he remembered a long night of sitting up and talking, talking more than he normally would, and telling tales of freshly baked Stollen and mugs of Glühwein and walking around the decorated tree and singing carols, all the while leaning into his audience’s embrace, skin on skin, smiling lips on his temple…
Caleb drew a shaky breath, trying to rid himself of the phantom touches along his back, his cheek, his lips…
Nein, he thought to himself. Enough now. He is gone. He is not coming back. Best to forget about it and move on.
Head down, he hurried along the streets, hoping that his friends might distract him from his grief.
Had Caleb looked up as he approached the Xhorhaus, he might have seen the tree sprouting up from the building, now covered in baubles and glitter and topped with a star. He might have recognised the colours and designs and style as an exact replica of what he had described to a certain tiefling once upon a time. But he did not look up, and so, when he finally stepped into the warmth of his home, he was not prepared for the flood of festive cheer. Nor was he prepared for just what lengths his family had gone to in an attempt to give their wizard the best holiday ever.
“He’s here!” Nott’s voice shouted from further in the house before a thundering of feet came to greet Caleb at the door. He’d barely taken off his coat before Nott and Jester both stumbled into view, Beau mere seconds behind.
They’d dressed up. Even Beauregard.
“What is this?” Caleb asked, his brows furrowed together at the girls before him.
“Frohe Weihnachten!” they all shouted, big grins on their faces as they butchered his language. His mouth dropped open, a silent question lingering on his lips as he stared at them in wonder.
“Were you surprised?” Jester asked him. “You were surprised, weren’t you? I knew you would be, even though we’ve been planning for ages, you had no idea, did you?”
“You like it, don’t you, Caleb? Please say you like it. If not, we can totally just forget about it all, that’s okay, we just thought you might want-”, Nott rambled before Jester cut in again.
“Caduceus made some of that fruit bread thing, and Fjord used an old recipe for mulled wine. He said it might not be exactly the same, but I’m sure it’s still good. Oh, and Nott and I have been decorating, and Yasha organised presents, and Beau has been keeping you distracted-”
“She’s the one who convinced Hot Boi to invite you over today so we could finish,” Nott informed him.
“Yeah, you’re welcome, nerd” Beau smirked.
Caleb let out a disbelieving laugh. They had made Weihnacthen for him?
“How did you even know…?” he let his question trail off, unable to formulate the proper words.
Jester and Nott started talking at once, so quickly and loudly that Caleb couldn’t make out any of their words, until Fjord shouted from further inside the house.
“Let him come inside, Jessie,” he reprimanded. “Don’t hog him all night.”
They both stopped talking, and Nott grabbed his hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. “There’s a surprise for you inside,” she said, smiling carefully.
“There’s more?”
“Come on. You’ll see.”
They all made their way towards the remainder of the Mighty Nein, Caleb looking around in awe as they went. Every surface now held some form of decoration, and he could smell that wonderful mix of Stollen and Glühwein for the first time in far too long. A smile crept its way onto his face as they walked, growing bigger and bigger for every passing second. As they entered the living room, Fjord, Caduceus and Yasha all smiled back at him, looking more joyful than he had seen them in quite some time.
He was about to open his mouth, to pour out his gratitude, when a flash of colour behind Yasha caught his eye. His smile dropped. His jaw clenched. He took a step closer.
Yasha shifted out of the way, letting him see. There, lounging on the couch as if he owned it, wearing a familiar and ostentatious robe, a robe Caleb at last seen torn and stained with blood, looking at him with those red eyes he’d almost accepted he would never see again…
“Hello, Mister Caleb.”
It was a trick. A cruel, vicious joke. An illusion. It had to be. Nevertheless, Caleb took another stuttering step forward. The purple tiefling stood in response, graceful and flamboyant at the same time, just like he always was.
The pair met in the middle, Caleb stumbling into that embrace he’d been in countless times before. He was solid. How was he solid? Disguise Self, perhaps? Or maybe Caleb wasn’t here. Maybe he had fallen asleep back at Essek’s, and this was all a dream.
“You’re not real,” Caleb breathed out, tears forcing their way out as he clutched to the intricate robe.
“I am.”
“I saw you die.”
“You did.”
Caleb drew back just enough to meet those eyes, those red eyes, those eyes he loved.
“You left me.”
Regret was painted all over the tiefling’s face. Regret and sorrow and apology.
“I’m sorry, my love.”
“You promised,” Caleb accused, his voice growing louder. A small part of him warned him that the others were still in the room, that they could all hear him, but the bigger part didn’t care. So what if they heard? “You swore an oath to the Moonweaver – you said ‘forever’, Mollymauk.”
A gasp and a what the hell? could be heard from the onlookers, but Caleb and Molly paid them no mind.
“I know.” Molly lifted a hand to Caleb’s cheek, wiping away one of the escaped tears. “And I will still keep that oath, Caleb Widogast. I will stay with you forever. I will love you always. I will do everything in my power to never leave you again. As long as you’ll have me, I am yours.”
Caleb surged forward, smashing his lips against Molly’s, against his husband’s, in a desperate kiss.
“Idiot,” he laughed as they broke away for air. “As if I’d ever let you go.”