What happens to Beira and Alaor when they find Santa Claus? Who do they unexpectedly discover behind the fluffy beard :)?
The white stag hated Christmas lights.
It reminded him of the dreary Hallmark movies his mistress enjoyed so much. She wept and scratched her watering nose at every cheesy ending while he wondered when the filmmakers would hire a better writer.
His mistress begged to differ.
“What are you brooding about now, Alaor?”
Beira, the Winter Goddess, leaned towards him and draped an arm around his neck. “I can see that scowl from a mile away.”
“Why is he here?” Alaor asked. “Parading around as the jolly Santa Claus?”
Beira shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. I thought I got him for good. Maybe my Granny magic didn’t work.”
She sniggered to herself but Alaor shook his great head, upsetting a child carrying a tray of hot chocolates. He hardly regarded the spilled brown liquid or the tears in the boy’s eyes. Beira leaned down to help the little boy.
Alaor had greater matters on his mind.
Jolly St. Nick. The stag wanted to rush in and spear the bugger in the belly with his antlers.
If the children only knew who was really behind the mask.
Beira popped back up and flicked his ear gently. He didn’t look away from the imposter. Her gaze softened as she regarded him a moment too long. “Stop worrying.”
“I’m not worrying,” he snapped before stalking forwards through the evergreen decorated gate.
Passersby’s exclaimed as they took in his majestic white coat and amber antlers. A little girl darted forwards, a dingy carrot in her hand.
“Beira,” he snarled, and she laughed in ringing booms before swooping down to catch the little girl’s arm.
“That’s so sweet of you but my friend doesn’t like carrots. He’s – um – allergic.”
Alaor snorted, streams of white clouds exiting his nostrils. Trying to feed him like a second-rate mule. He was the Winter Goddess’ protector.
Beira sunk her fingers into his fur and purred, “Don’t be so uptight. They think you’re pretty.”
Alaor choked and she nudged him forwards, grinning. “Come on. We need to go see Santa.”
He followed his Winter Goddess before stopping at once.
Santa sat on a scarlet velvet chair. However, behind the white beard and embarrassing red broadcloth, the Sun King glared at him and Beira.
“You tried to kill me,” he grunted.
Alaor raised an eyebrow at the Sun King and his ridiculous disguise.
“Least you managed to survive, Santa. I’ll make sure to pay a visit to the North Pole. Looks like you’re in my realm now,” Beira said sweetly.
The late Sun King gritted his teeth and Alaor stamped his hooves.
Winter reigned with fury.