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Rated: E · Fiction · Fantasy · #2310581
The spirit of Christmas and a very naughty boy.
Jimmy the Hand leaned back in his favourite chair at Mother's. His usual cheerful grin was absent as he swirled a glass of finest Port Wine. In his mind he was far away, lost in thought.

Jimmy was troubled. He had been in this new world for more than a year in Midkemian time, here however time moved differently. Many, many years had passed.
He had made this place his home, resigned to the fact he would never again roam the streets of Krondor, never again leap from rooftop to rooftop. A slight smirk began to appear, recalling that he hadn't had to leap the rooftops fleeing Nighthawks since arriving, there was that at least!

Jimmy sipped at his beverage, a decent drop, the sugars visibly lining the inside of his glass as it rolled downward. As he stared at the delicious drink his face turned sour once more. Lately there had been reports of his own people, now good friends and members of The Mockers being targetted, knowingly or unknowingly by particular folk. One of his closest friends had suffered a loss, the problem seemed serious. It was his job to ensure his people stayed safe, stayed housed, stayed as rich as he could make them.

Flipping through his notebook he grumbled and tossed it aside.

"Bah!" Jimmy exclaimed to himself and closed his eyes to think deeply about this new problem.

"What?" He thought. He swore he just heard bells ringing in the distance. Returning his glass to his desk he tried to ignore the obvious hallucination, he focused deeper.

That sensation! A Christmas Book was nearby. As quick as a flash he jumped up out of his chair, he couldn't resist these books. He didn't know why. He just HAD to have them. There was no one around though, not even a mouse stirred.

"Ho! Ho! Ho!" Materializing in front of him, a jolly looking man with a giant white beard grinned at him. He was dressed head to toe in an outfit not dissimilar to Jimmy's own, the one he had felt obligated to don when seeking these books.

Stunned and silent, Jimmy reached for his dagger. "Who are you and how did you...".

Jimmy couldn't move. The jolly man's eyes sparkled, his cheeks glowed with a reddish hue.

"Young James." The man's face became more stern as he addressed Jimmy.

"As I understand it you've been rather naughty this year. However I think you've probably felt my presence too, through this presence, my magic has been helping you make amends for some of these naughty deeds through the act of giving gifts!"

Jimmy's neck loosened, he could move it. He simply nodded.

"I've seen you doing this, I've seen you helping the young ones, and I've seen certain other folk harming you and yours."

Jimmy was slowly comprehending who this man was, the same man behind what he had started calling his 'hand of Christmas'. This was the literal spirit of Christmas himself, Santa Claus! If he could move, he'd be squirming with excitement.

"Now my boy, I know you're no murderous bastard. I'll release you and you'll move your hand from that dagger. Agreed?"

Jimmy the Hand nodded at Santa and suddenly he was free of the paralysis.

"Tell me James, have you ever wondered how I deliver gifts to so many houses in just one night?"

Excitedly, Jimmy almost screamed his answer at the once-thought myth standing before him.

"Yes Santa!!" Jimmy grinned as broadly as he ever had.

"Well, it's a little unconventional, but as you have been spreading Christmas cheer all season to good boys and girls, I'm going to give you a little helping hand to get a little of your own back."

Jimmy straightened and his face became serious. A chance at hitting back? He was all business.
Santa Claus spun around, his great red cloak swirling, snowflakes fell from it and exploded in beautiful gold, red and green sparks as they hit the stone floor.
Jimmy couldn't see the exact motions made, but he saw the result. Santa had cast a spell and before his very eyes a chimney appeared in Mother's.

"Simply step through my boy." Santa spoke one last time before disappearing in a cacophony of snowflakes, stars, sparkles and tiny little multicoloured presents, a jolly grin spread wide on his face.

Jimmy quickly gathered up his toolkit, a few bags and scrolls and began a final check that his usual kit was sorted.

"Ahh!" He cried out.

The chimney was slowly fading to nothing. As quick as he could manage he scurried forward and stepped through, instantly being transported across time and space. Stars and lights and all manner of curious arcane things whirled about him before he landed softly without a sound within a dark room at the back of what appeared to be a keep.

A voice rang in his mind.

"Remember young James, keep to the spirit of the season. I recommend coal for this naughty boy."

Jimmy checked his bag, there was one of those damned present bags again, surely enough, it contained coal.
The voice suddenly boomed across the night sky.

"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"
Jimmy grinned.

"Thanks Santa."

With that, Jimmy the Hand went to work filling his own sack, ensuring to leave the gift prominently for the naughty boy.
© Copyright 2023 M S Groves (slick187 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2310581-The-Ballad-of-Jimmy-Pt-2