#prekk

Haggard and run ragged! The lithe librarian was left panting, having braved the deepest depths of dust and worked his measly arms and legs to the bone as he got this all set up. As Skepp shakily descends a rickety library ladder, books scrolling past his vision before his feet meet grateful ground once more, his hands are dusted on his pants and finally, he gets the opportunity to stop and take a step back, a goofy, lop-sided grin, his ears wide and splayed as he spins and scans his store, wonder and hope glimmering in his eyes after all his hard work, all for one very special person.

When the season rolled in, Wintersday was on the way, it would be his first spent in Elona and really? He had no idea it was coming! Days in the library, whilst he struggled to make ends meet, tended to blend into one another, but...not in a bad way. The humble librarian had finally made a space of his own, run down and dusty, but worth the effort for something he could claim for himself, his new, comfortable handful of friends certainly helped.

However, when he finally heard word of the incoming celebrations, it sent the poor book goblin into a panic.

Skepp was used to a solitary holiday season, he’d convinced himself he preferred it, his bumbling and rambling nature just wasn’t suited for those large, familial social gatherings yet this year would play out differently. For a number of months he’d been sharing his home, open arms and a pining heart, all focused on one rather unexpected person. He’d entered Skepp’s life on a whim, and even with all the Scholar’s financial troubles, he readily accepted the man into his home. There was a familiarity in him and a sombreness that resonated, encouraging the jittery Asura to strive to make the place as comfortable for him as he could, all with burning ears and flustered cheeks.

The two had grown used to one another, a quiet reliance shared but never discussed, gentle in nature. Throughout the countless chatty nights they had, the blanket of moonlight cast through their bedroom window, the times they’d help one another into a deeper slumber and smile through their fatigue as dreams swept them away, Skepp couldn’t help but feel that something was off.

There was that same sombre unity they shared, but it ran deeper with his friend, unexplained yet hinted at in the smallest of gestures and shared memories and it bothered Skepp, a desire to right unspoken wrongs in any which way that he could drove him on.

This, of course, proved a great deal more difficult than he’d imagined, never the most creative of people, prone to drone and follow in the steps of those that held the highest authority, he’d never really had the opportunity to try and put his untapped ingenuity to work! The library had been the first demonstration of an attempt, but its struggling nature wasn’t the best example. The man would fret for weeks until that simple whisper from his treasured friends would remind him what was coming up soon and asking, the simplest, most inspiring question. ‘What would he do this Wintersday?’

Like a wayward spark hitting the wick of a waxed candle, it spurred Skepp to action. How had he not thought of this before!? It was over the course of the next few weeks that Skepp strove to gather as many decorations as he could, with favours fostered and many a thrift stall visited, he’d slowly started to amass a rather impressive amalgamation of holiday ornaments, decorations and even a few gifts, all tough yet worth the effort. The damned tree was the worst part, commissioning a lumberjack was well out of his price range, leaving the only option to get such a thing a product of his own manual labour. He managed, with difficulty, bruising and no small amount of aching muscles, thank goodness for the rental raptors seasonal discount. Explaining away the markings on the other hand proved...awkward, with everything, so far, having been kept on the lowest of the down-low, fortunately Lion’s Arch was bustling at this time of the year, so a battered and bruised Asura was easy to hand-wave the blame at overcrowding in markets!

Consequently, his labour bore fruit and, mere days before the festival began, Skepp still had time to set up the cosy surprise. After he’d ushered the man on his routine morning jog, up bright and early for once, he set to work and engaged in a mass decorating craze that would span every inch of the store. Mismatched tinsel adorning the endless rows of bookshelves, hanging decorations that looped the ceilings, many tattered and perhaps one or two, here or there entirely meant for completely different celebrations, but the birthday bunch were obscured in the back as best he could. The tree was a spectacle, in the most grotesque kind of way. Battered from the journey, branches broken from his weak assembly and the tangle of lights which had no coherent direction or consistent colour scheme woven through the evergreen. Baubles old, ramshackle and some down-right gaudy in their design and yet, as he’d descended that ladder and finally had the opportunity to take in the view of his simple yet shoddy Wintersday thematic, he discovered that very same lop-sided grin. He’d made this, it was his! And glitch, he was damned proud!

Presents were shoved under the tree, their bows and ribbons just as haphazard as the rest of the sparkling, festive library and he finally felt set! A hot cup of cocoa was ready and waiting besides Skepp, wielding an itchy, yet adorable Wintersday hat and a rather cheeky piece of mistletoe strung up and dangling below his neck, a fuzzy, patchy sweater and a nervous, shaky grin. It was all an effort to make sure, without a doubt, as small, cramped and dusty as his home was, that the person he cared most for felt like they belonged somewhere.

The door would creak, its heavy, wooden frame falling back into place and right on time, there he was; matted blue curls and staggered, post-jog wheezing, Skepp broke out into a grin.