Chapter Text
Lambert had a complicated relationship with Christmas.
Two Christmases ago he had arrived on Vesemir’s doorstep. It was an emergency placement, and he was only supposed to stay with Vesemir for a week.
By the time a year had passed and they were celebrating their first true Christmas together, the chaos of the last year’s holiday had all but faded from their memories.
Well, their conscious memories anyway.
Lambert could find a way to be difficult in almost any situation, but that Christmas had seen some of his worst behavior yet. He’d regressed completely to the holy terror he’d been when he first got to Vesemir’s, and for the longest time he couldn’t figure out why.
He had thought Lambert would love Christmas—decorating the house, making treats, giving gifts—but without fail, any time things got too festive he fell victim to some of the worst tantrums Vesemir had seen yet. And it was clear by their mutual distress that neither of them knew what was going on. Lamb insisted he wanted gifts, and treats, and funny songs, but when it came down to it, they always left him upset.
Finally, a week before Christmas, in a fit of frustration, Vesemir took all the decorations down. He shut off the Christmas lights, stowed the wrapped gifts away in his room, and even took down the tree and hauled it into the back yard.
The next day, like magic, Lambert was back to his usual self. Not a perfect child by any means, but operating at a level that Vesemir had grown accustomed to, and knew how to deal with.
He didn’t make the same mistakes their next Christmas together.
By then, Geralt and Eskel had been living with them for almost a year. Ves didn’t want to deprive them of the holiday spirit, so he helped them decorate their shared bedroom, tree and all, but the rest of the house stayed as usual, and Lambert’s behavior held steady.
He doled out all of their presents throughout the whole month, and on Christmas Day they ate a nice meal together and that was that.
Vesemir expected to do the same this year, but Lambert’s idolization of his older foster brothers won out. Always, he wanted to do whatever they were doing, and right now they were celebrating Christmas.
Memories from before haunted Vesemir—the screaming, crying, kicking, and stubbornness—but Lamb was older now. At seven, he knew what he wanted, and what he wanted was Christmas.
So Vesemir had eased them all into it. They decorated the house modestly, nothing too exciting or overstimulating, and put wrapped presents under the tree. There had been no tantrums yet, but he didn’t want to let his guard down.
Tonight would be the first big test.
Lambert’s elementary school was putting on a holiday program. His class would be singing a song in front of a crowd full of adoring parents and grandparents. To say Ves was nervous would be an understatement. Visions of Lamb breaking down on the makeshift cafeteria stage, or Ves being called back to deal with a tantrum behind the scenes flashed in his head, but he did his best to calm them. He should have faith in his kiddo.
He sat on the end of a row of folding chairs, Geralt to his left, and Eskel one more seat down.
“Five bucks he’s the smallest kid in his class,” Eskel said.
“Eskel, be nice.”
He was probably right though. Lambert was already small for his age, and the youngest kid in his class on top of that.
“Okay fine, five bucks he’s the loudest kid in his class.”
“Either that, or he doesn’t sing at all. One or the other,” Geralt said.
Eskel raised his eyebrows and held out his hand for Geralt to shake.
“Oh, quit it you two,” he told them halfheartedly.
Before they could respond, or seal their bet, the lights went down and their focus turned to the stage.
First up were the kindergartners, then the first graders, and then, finally, Lambert and his fellow second graders.
The little guy was easy enough to spot. He was notably smaller than most of his classmates, although to Eskel’s chagrin, taller than one or two of the girls, but even without his size to distinguish him, he would have stood out with his mop of bright red curls.
He was dressed into his nicest (and only) pair of dress pants, and a green button up shirt that Ves had to wrestle him into, and to his great relief, looked pleased enough to be on stage.
Even from his spot in the audience, the gaps in his grin were visible, as they filed onto the stage. Lambert didn’t like following directions, but he loved attention, and right now that seemed to be winning out.
Each kid held a little electric candle, as they sang a song about shining light on the dark winter nights. Eskel’s second prediction, about Lamb being the loudest of his class, did turn out to be correct.
He was mostly on key though, and adorable enough to make up for any mistakes.
Lambert spotted them as his class filed off stage at the end of the song, and briefly held up the line, waving frantically at his foster dad and brothers. Ves waved back at him, and then the three of them sat through three more songs from the classes, and another three played by the school’s band, until the final number, where the entire school crowded onto the stage for a grand finale.
The kids were packed, but Lamb once again proved visible enough as the hundred or so students sang an upbeat song complete with hand motions.
It seemed like Lambert wasn’t as practiced at this one as he’d been with the candle song, and the whole time he was a half beat behind, looking around at the students next to him to copy their hand motions.
He was adorable though, mistakes and all, and when Vesemir came to retrieve him after the show was over, he was practically vibrating with excitement.
“Lambchop!” Vesemir knelt down so he was at Lambert’s level. “What a good show! Did you have fun?”
The little boy nodded fervently. “Ice creeeaaaammmm.”
“Yes, I said we could get ice cream after the concert. And you did such a good job!”
Vesemir could only hope the good behavior lasted.