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Ichabod has never been particularly enamored of Christmas, which seems to be a larger-scaled affair in the hotel than he had ever experienced in his own Sleepy Hollow of two centuries prior. There were decorations aplenty, including the very German tradition of erecting a large fir tree in the midst of one's home and decorating it with little tokens and trifles. Ichabod thought this served only to get sap all over one's floors but it seems to have stuck with the people of the modern era, judging by the tree currently taking up residence in the entry hall.

A trip outside to see the gardens provides a bit of a respite from all the frippery of Christmas decorations and after a lengthy walk and a good amount of fresh air, Ichabod feels he is prepared enough to endure the onslaught once again. One of the things he recognizes upon entering is mistletoe, that bane of pretty housemaids everywhere, and he stifles a chuckle. He is not be getting caught unawares beneath it, vile weed, and pities anyone who does.

He supposes that he would be less melancholy if he had someone to indulge him in these holiday traditions, be that his beloved Katrina or even the company of Lieutenant Mills but the hotel provides no such company for him. He only knows Miss Smoak, charming girl that she is, and it is hard to feel festive and full of good cheer when he's so alone.

Still, he has enough coin to purchase a drink and he does, a thick dark ale that is the closest approximation to beer from back in his own era. It's not quite the same, but it will suffice, and hopefully it will bring warmth to his limbs and lightness to his heart.

[[Find Ichabod at the bar, being surly about Christmas.]]

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"I've done my fair share of carrying people when they're soused beyond the telling of it," Charming promises, though usually it's only at the local tavern when the neighbours end up drinking too much and are a hazard to the local animals. "I promise, even if we're only newly met, I wouldn't let you greatly embarrass yourself in public."

"You are a good man," Ichabod says, pleased that he can relax a little in his presence. Not too much, as even good men can be not what they seem but given he hasn't seen much of the horsemen's influence in the hotel, he feels safe enough.

"A man should always have someone he trusts in this regard because you never know when you might overimbibe."

"Where I come from, it's not always so black and white, but I've been lucky enough to have two good women to steer my morals to where they belong." Between his mother and Snow, he's learned to be open and to forgive, to give people their second chance, and to hope with all his heart. "So, what sort of demons are you dealing with, then?"

"The biblical sort, quite literally," Ichabod admits.

"I wish it were a more metaphorical sort."

"I'm fairly sure no one deserves demons, literal or metaphorical," Charming says gently, drinking with a swiftness that comes of being in a terrible situation. "Mine were...well, I don't know. Not demons, exactly, but dark things, indeed."

"I do not wish that burden on anyone," Ichabod says with empathy.

"It is a difficult road to walk, knowing there are things like that which need eradicating. And, yet, satisfying to know one has effected change in the world."

"Well," Charming remarks, reaching for a sword that isn't lying at his hip right now because he'd realized that walking around with a sword gets you a funny look or two. "If you ever need any kind of help vanquishing those things, I apparently can't get to where I want to be, so I'll throw my hat into the ring of helping. Maybe it'll earn me some good luck."