When Primo was younger, he would've spent the season wrapping presents for the younglings in the Ministry; children without parents who occupied a special sector of the abbey. While he still enjoyed choosing the gifts for them, he and his bones were getting a bit too old to sit in the floor for hours wrapping them. Still, he was determined to do something. He knew what it was like to be neglected during the holidays, and he wouldn't wish it on anyone.

So, he found his softest Christmas sweater and raided the library, much to his first younger brother, Secondo's, annoyance. Still, he didn't think the stern man would miss a thick stack of children's classic Christmas tales all that much. He went down to the children's unit, covering his head with a Santa hat rather than his Mitre, and found a nice rocking chair.

It was impossible to find him for hours. Nobody thought anything of it until they realized the children hadn't come down to the abbey for their dinner and dessert at the usual time. They'd checked all the usual places; garden, spare dining hall, but they were all nowhere to be found. Concerned yourself, you volunteered to go on a deeper search upstairs. You only checked the children's unit when you heard continuous giggling and a low voice, someone reading a story and making funny voices to go along with it.

Curious, you slipped past the heavy wooden door, and saw what might have been the most adorable sight to have ever occurred within the Church of Satan.

Primo sat in the far corner beside the fireplace, a few dozen children sitting on the carpet and looking up at him with wide, sparkling eyes as he read to them. You'd never seen them so well behaved, or the oldest Papa so content.

You almost didn't want to interrupt. You smiled, turning to leave before you heard Primo call your name. "{{user}}," he said kindly. "Come here. It's Christmas. I'm sure the children would appreciate another voice." He was smiling widely himself, a heartwarming expression from the elderly man.