Chapter Text
Colin leans back in his chair.
It’s large and ornate, surprisingly not at all comfortable given the large amount of time he has to spend sitting in it. It matches perfectly well with the even larger antique desk that is littered with papers.
He lets out a sigh as he sets his paper down.
Do I really need to check this twice?
The names are truly never ending. Every person on Earth is on this list, and he has to ensure that it is done correctly.
Naughty or nice.
Couldn’t be more simple than that. He’s been Santa Claus now for three years. One would surely think he’d be proficient at the job. Though, admittedly, he was thrust into the position after the prior Santa Claus fell off the roof of Bridgerton House and he’d just happened to put the coat on just in case Gregory and Hyacinth came outside to see what the commotion was.
Anything to not ruin the magic of Christmas for his youngest siblings.
Seriously, how was Colin supposed to know that putting on the coat would lead to him being the new Santa Claus? He definitely had no idea.
The familiar ringing of small bells on boots brings him out of his trance. Colin looks towards the sound to see Charles, the head elf, storming over to the desk.
“Is everything well with you today, Charlie?” Colin asks with a laugh.
“It is Charles, you should know this by now.” Charles answers, crossing his arms. A scowl sets deeply on his face.
“Ouch, I was just trying to lighten the mood. It is Christmas soon after all…what has you coming in here in such a huff?” Colin inquires.
“I have bad news…well, maybe not bad news…maybe medium news? Actually maybe good news—”
“Charles, get on with it please.”
“Yes, of course. There is more to the Santa Clause.” Charles replies with a cower.
Colin sits up in his chair. “I’m sorry. What do you mean—what do you mean there is more?”
“Well, you are already aware that small print can be a real doozy—”
“Charles, please…I’m already Santa Claus; I have left my family for years. What more can there be?”
“You have to get married.” Charles blurts out. Colin notices that Charles has somehow stepped backwards in the midst of their conversation. As if he was afraid of how Colin would respond.
The room goes silent, nothing but the distant hum of machinery from the toy factory on the floor below. Married? How did they not know this years ago? Who would he even marry? He’s been nowhere else but the North Pole for the past three years. He is definitely not going to marry an elf…
“Married? Who would I even marry?” Colin huffs, slumping back into his chair.
“Well sir, that is up to you. According to the fine fine print, you need to find a wife and marry before Christmas Day. If you don’t find someone, you will no longer be able to be Santa Claus. The magic will be gone.”
Colin opens his mouth, then closes, then opens again, but nothing comes out. He had no idea this would ever be an issue but here he is, staring at Charles like he grew a second head. Charles waits for Colin, arms crossed, foot tapping lightly on the floor.
“Okay, wait…the magic…it will just be gone—poof—go away? Just like that?” Colin asks, finally breaking the silence in the room.
“Yes, was I not clear, sir?” Charles answered with a snark.
“You know, Charlie—”
“Charles.”
“Right, Charles…is that it? Get married? Nothing else?” Colin taps his fingers on the desk.
“Yup. That’s it…You know after all these years, you would think that you’d be used to all this fine print. Given that’s how you got here in the first place.” Charles chuckles and shrugs.
“Well, I didn’t expect the fine fine print.” Colin motions down himself, “seriously, how do I find a wife looking like this?”
Becoming Santa has completely changed the way he looks. He easily went from dark brunette heartthrob to a plump jolly silver haired run-of-the-mill Santa Claus. Something that was pointed out to him in the fine print.
Colin sighs. He really has found his purpose being here. Sure, leaving his family wasn’t ideal, but nothing has brought him more joy than spreading holiday cheer. Christmas Day truly is the best day of the year.
“Alright, I’ll do it.” Colin finally agrees.
“Great! Took you long enough. Best we get started now.” Charles nods curtly.
“Now? Seriously Charlie, you’re really not giving me enough time to think.”
“It’s been three years. It’s Charles.”
“Yeah yeah, you’ll come around.” Colin says, waving him off with a chuckle.
“One day, sir…one day…anyways, best to get to it.” Charles walks back over to Colin and hands him a watch. “This is a watch that will monitor how much magic you have left when you go home. You need to be mindful of how much magic is used so you do not run out. Be very very careful.”
“And what happens when it runs out? I just—what—teleport back here or something?” Colin asks; he looks at the watch. It has a small clock and a candy cane shape on the side of the face that meters how much magic is left.
“Actually no. When it runs out, you can not return.”
Colin's head snaps up. “Right…got it…Guess I have to find a wife.” He tries to laugh it off, but his chuckle is barely a wheeze.
Charles rolls his eyes. “I expect to see you back here in 14 days. Preferably with a wife in tow. You’re already changing, you need to act fast.”
Colin looks down to see what was once a very jolly sized belly seemingly deflate right before his eyes.
This can’t be good.
He gets up and walks over to the large mirror on the other side of the room. He considers who to marry as he watches his beard shrink.
“I know who I should ask, but I know she won’t give me the time of day.” Colin says to himself in the mirror.
The only person who came to mind as soon as Charles said the word “marry.” He hasn’t seen her in years, and he wasn’t able to give her a proper goodbye. He is confident this will be an uphill battle.
He needs to find Penelope.
🦌🛷 ⊹˚꙳⁺⋆₊･*❅