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“You have eight doctorates?”
Veritas twirled his chalk-stylus between his fingers. It was his first time meeting his grandson-in-law, and he had heard great stories of him from Stephen. He surely didn't disappoint.
“Indeed. I have been informed that you have great talent for scholarship, as well.”
“Not as good as Stephen, I'm afraid. He-”
Talking to Veritas Ratio wasn't an easy feat to Gray. A man with eight doctorates? Who had stopped disasters and ended planetary hunger? How was Gray to be compared to him?
“Yes, my grandson is a brilliant man, but you are no less. He speaks of you with great respect.”
Gray sighed.
“Forgive me, talking to someone like you makes this a bit hard to believe. I'm just a neurosurgeon–”
“So you are a medical doctor and possess an extremely delicate and needed specialisation. It is of no less value than anything I have achieved. You should be more appreciative of yourself. Does Stephen not tell you that?”
Gray crossed his legs under the living room table. For all the intimidating aura Veritas possessed, he was a surprisingly gentle man. Gray supposed he now understood where Stephen's parent's personality came from, now.
“He does, it's simply not so easy to believe.”
“If you ever have any doubts, you should talk to my husband. He had gone through the same problem early into our relationship. I believe his perspective might help you.”
Speaking of Aventurine, the man was currently occupying most of the kitchen, along with his husband's father, trying his best to figure out how to bake gingerbread cookies. Truly, it was a tough task, for it had taken them three burnt to the crisp trays for his child to take pity on them and lend their hand.
Apparently, it was the temperature.
“It's alright, dad, it happened to me more times than I can count.”
Their father didn't even have a chance to respond before his father-in-law cut in.
“It's the oven's fault for making two hundred degrees the default temperature.”
“It's not, Kaveh,” came a deep voice from the living room. “You should have checked it.”
“SHUT UP ALHAITHAM.”
Aventurine burst out laughing, making Argon pause mid-sigh to crack a small smile. Seeing their father happy with a family would never get old. Probably because they all couldn't get old, but that only made the annual celebration more meaningful.
“OI, I'M DONE WITH THE WOOD!”
“Thank you, Asvatthaman, you can place it by the fireplace, and you're free.”
“That's it?! I gotta have something to do!”
Argon sighed, glancing back at the kitchen. They had to go back soon, Lycaon could use help with the cooking and their father was making questionably themed gingerbread cookies so he had to be stopped, too. They didn't have time to worry about their brother-in-law with anger management issues.
“Hugo is wrapping up some remaining gifts, you can help them out.”
They could only hope their brother wouldn't lead the man to even more destruction.
“Argon told me you got something for me to do,”
Hugo raised his head: there was a small pile of decorative tape rolls, colourful markers and paper, and glue. There was also glitter scattered around him, blue and red.
“Did they send you to help me? I'm quite fine here, though. Don't need a bulky guy ruining my work-”
“WHAT DID YOU SAY?!”
In the distance, Argon was regretting their decision. A lot of decisions, actually.
“Argon, would you mind passing me the flour?” Von Lycaon asked, his clawed hands cracking eggs into a bowl. “It would seem I have run out.”
“Sure.” The creature nodded and summoned their spear. Without putting down the hand mixer, they used it to creak open the cabinet and nudge the bag off the edge and onto a glowing purple magical disc they summoned, which they then flew the bag on to their brother's partner.
“Great thanks, Argon.” The wolf man bowed. His mechanical legs clinking in the tiles.
“Any time,” the creature smiled back. It was then that they glanced back at their surprisingly quiet father and grandfather.
“DAD!” They shouted, creating a magical hand to temporarily hold the mixer. They ran over to the men, who were giggling under their noses while painting dicks on gingerbread men. “Kids are going to be eating this!”
“I'm sure Sara doesn't mind.” Aventurine replied, adding a white dot at the tip-
“For the love of pikmin, I meant Fav! She's fifteen!”
Kaveh looked between them and sighed. It would seem he has come to his senses.
“They're right, Kakavasha. We should make a separate kid-friendly batch.”
Argon wanted to scream.
Sara leaned down to her little brother with a piece of chocolate, pressing her clawed finger to her lips and winking.
“This will be our little secret, alright? Argon will give me a timeout if they find out about this.”
“Find out about what?”
Sara whipped her head around to see her older brother leaning on the doorway, with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Hey, Idefix…” she waved, hiding the chocolate behind Danio's fleece sweatshirt.
“You are aware Argon has a reason to not want you to feed him junk?”
The man moved his hands to his hips, his dress shirt bunching up. He was probably dressed in the most obnoxiously homosexual way out of everyone in the family, even going as far as to wear cuffs.
To a family dinner.
“He'll be fine. I was fine, and I ate everything I found on the walks.”
“Yes, and I remember how often you'd have diarrhoea. Argon complained about it a lot.”
“You're talking like you know shit.”
“I do, I was already living here before you were even born.”
“Okay, talk shit, fuckass.”
“SARA!”
Both siblings froze.
“WATCH YOUR TONGUE, YOUNG LADY!”
“It seems grandparent isn't in the best mood," Lael said from where she sat pressed side-by-side with her sister, breaking off a piece of her own snack to give it to Fav.
Sara sighed. She was in for no snacks this evening.
“Yo, Karna, what you got there?”
Karna lowered the glass ornament he was moulding onto the concrete workbench.
“Argon asked me to make some baubles for the front door.”
“Eh, how about we spar instead?”
Karna frowned. Since getting married, he hadn't fought much. Argon usually takes care of any danger around them before it even comes, so he was concerned about losing his touch. He didn't often get to see Asvatthaman any more nowadays, either, so maybe this was the chance to train again.
When they got kicked out of the house to “spar the fuck outside”, after they accidentally tripped the backup fridge over, they met Jason out, sitting on his "ridiculously expensive"—as Argon and Veritas always called it with insistance—car. When he saw them, he raised his hand and pointed at them.
"You. It is good to see my fellow Servants. Are those god-favourites here yet?"
"I am afraid Achilles and Paris have not yet arrived. Chiron messaged us saying they will be late due to Paris finding a stray puppy on the way."
"Fucking pathetic, and I was looking forward to challenging Achilles."
"You will surely get the chance to, sometime, Asvatthaman. They will be here for a couple of days still."
"Doesn't fucking-"
"Say, Karna, how about you go back to help there inside? I have something I have been wanting to talk to your friend about."
And Karna, with all his autistic inability to read the social context, left.
Karna pushed on the door handle to the bathroom—it gave in, opening to reveal Moze cleaning the shower and Anaxa sitting on the toilet, his gaze fixed to the wall before him.
“Such foolish people, celebrating the 'birth of the son of god'. It's clear the whole religion is incorrect, why would these fools celebrate something impossible.” A pause, during which Anaxagoras' face went through seemingly ten whole different expressions Karna couldn't name. “I do not see the point you are trying to make.”
Karna blinked. He had heard that Argon's uncle was schizophrenic, thinking there was a “god of reason” talking in his head. He insisted that Cerces was real, that they gave him the gift of wisdom, but even in a family such as theirs, it seemed rather outlandish.
“Moze, you did not have to clean all of this, we already did it during the weekend.”
All Karna got in response was a grumble that sounded suspiciously like “not clean enough”.
When Veritas came into the bathroom, there was a strange emptiness inside. Almost as if somebody was there, but also wasn't.
Veritas sighed, rubbing his temples.
“Moze, I know you are there. Just come out like a normal person and help us outside. Did our parents not socialise you enough as a child?” The last comment was one Veritas picked up from Argon during their years of work as an animal behaviourist.
Veritas' brother let off his camouflage, materialising out of the shadows.
“It's incredibly improper to be doing this. Someone less aware of your antics could come here and be seen by you while fulfilling their physiological needs. If you wish to 'hide' like this even during the holidays, you should hide somewhere else.”
Veritas then opened the door and waited until Moze left to close the door behind him and then lock it.
“Dad, have you seen Danio?” Argon asked, popping out of the air vents as gas and materialising into their physical form.
“I have not, is he missing?” Veritas replied, placing down his tablet. Work never stopped when your students are idiots.
“It's his feeding time. Sara was supposed to be with him, but I just found her lounging on the sofa alone.”
Veritas nodded, straightening his back and cracking it before standing up. Despite having stopped aging at forty, his joints weren't getting any better.
He walked over to the room him and Aventurine were given to sleep in during their stay at their child's magical manor. The man was inside already, holding a Christmas-themed earring to his ear—the one where the earring that reminded him of his sister was.
Veritas didn't speak immediately. It seemed Aventurine was making a very important choice right now. It had been decades since his life became more stable, since he made a family of his own, but letting go of his painful past was never something that came to the man easily.
In the end, aventurine set the red earring back down into the box, sighing. It would seem this year wasn't the time either.
“Argon is looking for Danio.”
Aventurine turned around, his gaze slipping to the corner of the room, where the blue pushchair stood. Veritas glanced inside and saw a white and brown kitten.
“It was loud, and he turned and tried to sneak away so I took him to hide away for a bit.”
Veritas left the room after kissing his husband goodbye briefly, kitten in his arms. The corner of his lips turned up.
They really had come a long way.
"Aww, look at him! Isn't he so adorable!" Paris cooed, as he leaned over the plastic baby chair and the infant sitting inside it.
"He's... small. But I suppose I do know what you mean." Achilles nodded to his partner, his hand not leaving his shoulder. "Posessive much?"—Argon snickered quietly.
"He's actually older than he'd seem. He was sick when we took him in and it took a while for him to begin growing properly," Argon pointed out, their palm scratching the cat anthropomorph behind his ear.
"Awh, poor Danny."
"He's healthy now. Well, healthier, but that's still an improvement, isn't it."
Paris nodded, before glancing at Achilles expectantly and- oh no. Even Argon, with their limited social abilities, knew what was about to start.
"I want a kid, too."
"Paris, you're a man."
"And? Hasn't stopped you from trying-"
Chiron cleared his throat loudly, earning a thankful and relieved look from the noble gas. The kids' purity would be saved for one day longer.
“Lycaon, just sit down already. You're not a butler here. Everyone can pour borscht in by themselves.” Argon exclaimed, putting the length of their spear before the wolf man, stopping him dead in his tracks.
“It is my duty-”
“It's not your fucking duty in my home, now sit the fuck down.”
Chatter that filled the room until now, died down in an instant. Silence stretched between them over the table, uninterrupted by the sounds of phones being set down.
“Let's just eat,” Argon sighed, dispersing the spear, and falling into their chair with a huff, resting their back on Karna's shoulder.
The sound of clinking cutlery, pouring liquids, and eventually chewing, slowly recommenced.
The atmosphere felt stiff for about five minutes, all until Anaxa suddenly stood up, turned around, and slapped a fly dead midair, all the while yelling “I TOLD YOU.”
Everybody knew they shouldn't laugh. Anaxagoras was schizophrenic, it was wrong to laugh at his illness, but in that moment the suddenness of the situation in the stiff atmosphere, made almost everyone giggle—not full on laugh, the autism went strong in this family.
Anaxa glared at them, most pointedly at Sara, who slid her froggy hat off her head to laugh into it.
“Cerces is asking how your relationship with Abra is going. They heard you hooked up last time.”
Silence stretched between them once more. This time, everyone's eyes were turned to the girl, whose floppy dog ears popped out and now laid flat back in shame.
“He's right?! You're seventeen!” Argon shot up from their seat, their spear right back at their side.
“As if you're one to talk,” Jason pitched in, sipping beer from his jug with a snicker.
“What is that supposed to mean?!”
“Didn't you marry young, too?”
“NINETY IN IMMORTAL YEARS IS STILL NINETY YEARS!”
The creature raised their spear, flipping it to the staff end and threw it, pushing the man back and pinning him to the wall by his neck with the wide crescent-shaped point. Jason yelped, and Argon was already floating to run back at their uncle, before there were arms wrapping themselves around their shoulders, a familiar strawberry scent sneaking into their nose. In that time, Alhaitham was ripping the staff out of the wall, his oldest son dragging the former king away right after.
“You should calm down. This isn't the time to be arguing like this.” Veritas glanced at his child, who took a deep breath and loosened themselves into their spouse's torso. Von Lycaon was holding Asvatthaman down with his mechanical legs, the man already eager to join a fight.
“I'm more curious about how Anaxa got it right, apparently.” Kaveh pointed with his chin to the still red Sara.
“I told you Cerces was real.”
There was a slam of the front door and a shout. Argon sighed. It would seem Karna would never let go of the Santa position he was given back at Chaldea.
The man burst in with a smile so wide it once scared all of their children, his punching bag filled with presents on his back.
“See this smile! Santa has come!”
He opened the bag, taking out the top-most package and reading the sticker on it.
“Fav! Lael! Your Santa has brought you gifts!”
Karna reached to the bottom of the bag to grab the last box: glued with glittery tape, but overall rather modestly wrapped in eco-paper. “Does anyone know who this one is for?”
Nobody sitting around the hideously decorated Christmas tree spoke up. Aventurine, though, noticed, from the corner of his eye, that their uncle was moving suspiciously closer to the living room patio door, while Hugo shifted restlessly in Lycaon’s lap.
“I shall open it and see, then.”
Here's how it went:
Karna opened the box.
The box contained a small fan and a ton of glitter.
The whole room, especially Karna's face, became covered with the tiny bits of coloured plastic.
Argon screamed, “JASON, YOU FUCKING-” and launched towards their uncle.
Asvatthaman burst out laughing.
Argon threw their spear at him.
Karna spent a frantic minute trying to get the extremely uncomfortable sensation off his face.
Jason escaped through the window.
Asvatthaman was nearly beheaded, saved by Karna grabbing his spouse by their leg mid-flight.
Veritas' sigh contained every bit of disappointment in the universe.
After they had managed to get rid of most of the glitter off Karna's hair and caught the escapist to complete his punishment (Argon had sworn not to kill again after Karna found out what they did to the kids that bullied Stephen, but beating their cowardly uncle to unconsciousness was a different story), everyone was directed to their rooms. Stephen and Gray tucked Fav and Lael in, while Aventurine stole Danio away once more (with approval, this time).
The magical four-dimensional manor fell quiet at last, the chaos fizzling out.
They would all wake up the next day, tired and aching from yesterday’s frenzy, and eat their breakfast together at eleven in the morning. Lycaon and Moze would spend half of the afternoon cleaning up after the “trick” Jason and Asvatthaman (and as Argon presumed by his behaviour, Hugo as well) pulled. Hugo would still attempt to run away and be hunted by his sibling with a box of glitter (they woke up energetic enough to bring him to justice for being an accomplice). Karna and Asvatthaman would finally get their spar. And most importantly, Veritas, Aventurine, Kaveh and Alhaitham would sit down with the kids, make popcorn, and put on a film, before being joined by most of the remaining family, sane or not.
Christmas in a family of immortals was an unusual one, and Gray didn’t think he would ever get used to it. But he could see that under all this chaos, there was a layer of domesticity to it, even with all the attempted murder that seemed to happen on a regular basis.
It was… interesting, he supposed.