okay, so it's not a sequel to here, there, and back again (or any of the other fics i've written for which sequels have been requested, for that matter). i'm sorry about that. but i started writing this last year — too close to the holidays, of course — and thought i might test the waters and see what you think. i'll try and update daily, but i make no promises. reviews help, though ;)
enjoy, my lovelies! and happy december!
"I want to see the tree!" Tommy whined miserably, tugging on the hem of Maura's lacy white nightgown. Maura put her book aside, pulling her small brother onto the window seat beside her.
"Mother and Papa will come for us soon, Tommy," Maura promised, brushing the little boy's hair from his eyes. He frowned, messing his hair up again, and Maura giggled.
"What do you think Godfather has brought for us this year, Maura?" Frankie asked, coming over to his siblings and sitting on the other side of his sister.
"I'm not sure," Maura said thoughtfully, a crease forming between her eyebrows. "But I overheard Papa talking to him about a lovely garden, with flowers of all colors, and a pond with swans in golden collars that swim around to beautiful music."
"I hope that's not it!" Frankie exclaimed, making a horrified face.
"Yes, that's not for men," Tommy agreed.
"Papa told me that it was a castle full of soldiers, marching bravely in neat rows," Frankie said, "with swords and medals and a full cavalry."
"I do not care for Godfather's toys," Tommy declared sullenly.
"What an awful thing to say, Thomas!" Maura scolded.
"'Tis true! Papa and Mama never let us play with his toys. They just put them up on the high shelf so that I cannot reach. I like their presents better, because at least I may do with them as I please."
"What did you wish for Christmas, Tommy?" Frankie asked his little brother.
"A chess set," he answered proudly. "And a new steed, because yours is withering away."
"Only because you are so harsh with it," Frankie grumbled. "I wished for a real army outfit, and a saber."
"I am hoping for some new books," Maura confessed, "and perhaps a pair of dancing slippers."
"You're not old enough for dancing slippers," Frankie scoffed. "You're only thirteen!"
"Hmph!" Maura sniffed haughtily. "You're just a boy, Francesco, what do you know of dancing?"
"Children!" There was a knock on the door, interrupting the dispute, and the voice of their mother came through. "It is time."
Tommy and Frankie leapt off the seat, while Maura took the time to rise gracefully. Once she had reached her brothers, the three Isles children burst through the nursery doors and scampered into the parlor.
"Oh, Mama, how beautiful it all is," Maura exclaimed, pressing up against her mother.
Angela Isles smiled at her eldest child. "I am gladdened to hear that you approve, darling. Come, look at all of the gifts Christmas has brought you!"
Maura and Angela made their way over to the large Douglas Fir that was the centerpiece of the room. It was covered in shining baubles — glittering glass globes, twinkling candles, tissue-wrapped orange and lemon drops, and the most delicately crafted sugar figurines.
The little boys had already found what belonged to them — for Tommy, a lovely mahogany chess board with playing pieces carved of white marble and onyx, and a new bay pony with bit and bridle. For Frankie, there was a handsome general's uniform, complete with cap and sword.
For Maura, the table held a different set of delights. She found leather-bound books in all colors and sizes, with delicate embossing and gold-edged pages. There was also a fancy green dress hanging beside the tree, trimmed with velvet and ribbons and frills of all sorts. Beneath the table, too, in a box that bore her name, was the most wonderful surprise of all.
"Slippers!" Maura cried, taking the sweet satin shoes from their confines and hugging them to her chest. "Oh, Mother, thank you!"
"It was your Papa who convinced me, but we believe you to be wise and mature enough now. Go on, then, dear, and show us how they fit you," Angela coaxed.
Maura did not need much encouragement, however, for no sooner than Angela had suggested it were Maura's house shoes placed aside and the pale blue slippers were on her feet. Maura made quick work of the ankle ribbons, and then lifted the hem of her nightie to display her new shoes.
"They match perfectly," she noted, comparing the blue of the ribbons on her dress to the ribbons on the shoes. "You know that this blue is my favorite shade."
"Indeed," her papa said, wrapping an arm around his wife's shoulders. "It suits you terribly well, Maura."
"Thank you, Papa," Maura answered demurely, doing a little pirouette.
"You are quite welcome," Vincent said, pressing a kiss to Maura's honey-colored curls. "I must get back to the men, my dear," he said quietly, addressing Angela.
She nodded in agreement. "It won't do to keep my companions waiting, either."
Maura took in the scene around her as her parents left her side. Milling about were many of her parents' associates — Maura recognized important men in the community, like Professor Keystone, and Colonel Jones, and Doctor Pike, resuming a discussion with her father, Councilor Sean C. Isles. Her mother was also surrounded by many friends, like Lady Camille and Duchess Carla. Frankie and Tommy had found a band of brothers to roughhouse with, so Maura sighed lightly and brought one of her new books to a small chair before the fire, curling up to read.
"I thought I might find you here, my dear," a soft voice spoke from over Maura's shoulder.
"Godfather Frost!" Maura squealed, wrapping her arms around the friend's neck and allowing him to lift her in the air.
"Merry Christmas, little Maura," he said. "Would you like to see your present from me?"
"May I really? Oh yes please, Godfather!"
Frost set Maura down, and she clasped her hand in his as they walked into the dining room where Godfather Frost had set up his latest creation.
It was, as Frankie had said, a large castle, but there was a surrounding moat that fed into a small pond with Maura's beloved swans. As promised, the swans floated idly about the blue pool, a lilting melody playing softly as they did so.
"It's lovely, Godfather Frost," Maura said quietly, still awestruck.
"There's more to see, dear girl," he responded.
Maura's eyes widened as the tiny drapes were opened in the windows of the castle, and delicate little faces began to appear in the lit spaces.
"Oh, they are so dear!" Maura exclaimed. "Look, Godfather, at that child! She looks just like me!"
Indeed, there was a small blonde head peeking out of a balcony on the east wing of the castle — her painted eyes were a mix of green and brown, and her little white and blue nightie looked very similar to the one Maura wore currently.
"And there's Frankie! And Tommy!" she gasped, pointing out two smaller figures that had appeared on the terrace beside her. The taller doll had hair so dark it was nearly black, and had a miniature sword strapped and sheathed over his pajama coat. The smallest one had hair darker than Maura's but lighter than Frankie's, and it was rumpled and ruffled. Tiny Tommy was riding a tinier horse, one with a caramel-colored coat and a bright blonde mane.
"Hey!" Tommy shouted, pushing in between Maura and Frost. "Let me see too!"
Maura scowled at her brother, but Godfather Frost merely chuckled and lifted him up to see better.
"Ah, how wonderful," he whispered, amazed.
"Is that me?" Frankie asked, having come up behind them. "Godfather Frost, let me go into your castle."
"My dear Frankie, that cannot be done. The turrets of the castle are hardly higher than your head. How do you expect to fit?" Godfather asked.
Frankie tilted his head to the side, puzzling out that statement. "Very well, then — let the figure of me come out."
"That, too, cannot be. Such as the mechanism is, so it must remain."
"So many things that cannot be!" Frankie cried. "Give me my legion over this stuffy contraption any day of the week."
With that, he stormed away, Tommy following soon after.
"I apologize for his rudeness, Godfather," Maura said, touching Frost's arm lightly.
"No matter, dear one," he answered, smiling brightly at her. "That reminds me — I have one more treat for you."
Godfather Frost reached into his large black case, withdrawing a slender, wrapped package. Handing it to Maura, he said, "This was meant to be for you and your brothers, but I think you will enjoy it most."
Maura reverently undid the strings and removed the paper from the box. When she took off the lid, she gasped in surprise and delight, for in the box was a beautiful, hand-painted nutcracker doll.
The handsome toy was dressed in a most becoming uniform. The coat was scarlet, with gold buttons adorning the chest and epaulets, and the pants were white with a scarlet stripe up the leg. Small and sturdy black boots fit so snugly that they almost looked painted, and a fluffy black soldier's cap covered very real-looking raven curls. What charmed Maura most, though, was the little nutcracker's face. The features were sharp, but had a delicate, almost feminine quality to them. The defined cheeks were decorated with splashes of rouge, and dark eyes seemed alive above a smiling mouth full of strong white teeth.
"Oh, thank you," Maura murmured, still gazing at the gift. "It's beautiful."
"I had never seen a nutcracker such as this one," Frost admitted, "and for some reason, it reminded me of you."
Maura stretched up on her toes and pressed a tender kiss to her Godfather's cheek. "It is absolutely perfect, Godfather. Thank you."
"You are quite welcome, little one."
"Shall we test it?" Maura asked, an impish light in her hazel eyes. On the parlor table, amidst the gingerbread houses and rich puddings, she spied a large bowl of whole walnuts.
"Good idea!" Frost followed Maura into the fray, where many guests were gathering plates of fruit and sweets. Maura searched the bowl for the perfect specimen, and once she'd found it, opened the nutcracker's mouth and placed the wrinkled orb inside.
Maura pressed down on the lever hidden beneath the nutcracker's jacket, and as the husk of the walnut split in two, the sweet kernel once hidden inside fell into Maura's upturned palm. She slipped the nut into her own mouth, and sighed joyfully.
She spent the next half of the hour cracking any nuts with a shell she could find in the bowl. Big, small, or in-between — she was enraptured. Unfortunately, her fun was soon to end.
"Maura, what are you doing?"
"Cracking nuts, Tommy," Maura answered. "Would you like to help?"
"Alright," he agreed with a shrug. But when Maura showed him the nutcracker, he burst into peals of laughter. "What is this?" he asked through his giggles.
"This is my nutcracker," Maura said, her feelings a bit hurt.
"It's hideous!"
"It is not!" Maura yelled, her face flushing crimson with anger.
"Is so! I have never seen such an ugly doll!"
"It is not ugly! It's wonderful!"
Tommy grabbed the nutcracker from Maura's hands, and began to wield it like a puppet. "La la la," he trilled, opening and closing the poor nutcracker's mouth roughly with the lever.
"Tommy, stop, you must be gentle!"
Tommy continued to mock his sister, dancing the nutcracker across the table and crudely forcing its mouth open wide. Maura kept trying to take it from him, terrified that he would break it. She finally grasped the doll, but Tommy tugged the lever, and with one sickening crack, he pulled up just a little too hard and dislodged it from the nutcracker's back.
The toy's jaw hung loosely, neither able to close all the way nor stay open. It was ruined.
"Now look what you've done!" Maura cried heatedly.
"I'm sorry," Tommy said, lip trembling. "I didn't mean to break it, I was just having fun."
"Well I wasn't!" Maura snapped, still furious. "My poor, sweet little nutcracker," she mourned. She set the doll down gently on the table, and reached up to untie the short length of ribbon that bound her hair from her face. Curls tumbled down across her cheeks, but she brushed them aside and focused on wrapping the injured patient's jaw with the fabric.
"There you are, darling friend," Maura whispered soothingly. "All better."
"Maura, I am sorry," Tommy whined, but Maura just ignored him. Tucking the nutcracker securely under her arm, she went back to curl up in her chair by the fire.
As she stared into the flickering embers, Maura cradled her broken toy. Before long, her eyes fluttered shut, and she soon fell into a deep, deep slumber.
