These two continue to plague my thoughts even after I swore I was done writing about them. 17 years later, and this movie still means so much to me. It's one of the few VHS's I've bothered to keep haha.
(Takes place a few months after "Gas Light" and before "A Coming Change" in A Simple Touch)
Partly inspired by a quote spoken by the Nutcracker to Marie (Clara's original name) in E.T.A. Hoffmann's original Nutcracker novel. A varied version of that quote is used for the inscription on Eric's gift.
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It was a gentle morning to wake to.
The street outside the Drosselmeyer house was quiet, save for the occasional rattling of passing carriages and clicking of horseshoes. The curtains to the bedroom had been drawn, but sunlight still managed to slip through the cracks between the fabric and the window frame, pouring a dim glow onto the wooden floorboards.
Clara sighed in contentment as awareness came to her, the final whispers of dreams fading from her mind. She blinked drowsily at the familiar surroundings of her old room. It was mainly used for guests now, though the floral wallpaper Clara had had since she was a young girl remained. Some of her childhood furniture had been kept, but other items had been replaced to properly accommodate guests, such as the more appropriately-sized bed that Clara and Eric were currently lying in.
She turned over, the rustling of the sheets breaking the stillness that had blanketed the room. Eric lay within arm's reach, relaxed in sleep. Clara smiled and shifted closer to him. How she loved mornings like this, when there was nothing but the serenity of the ebbing dawn, and the soft sound of her husband's breathing to wake to.
She reached out, stroking her fingers along the sharp angle of his jaw. Tenderly, she traced down to his chin and whisked her thumb over his parted lips. She leaned forward and cupped his face with one hand, placing a light kiss on his cheek. Then his cheekbone. Then at the corner of his closed eye.
Eric's eyes fluttered open, his eyelashes brushing her lips. Clara's smile widened, and she kissed the same spot again. A sigh, laden with lingering grogginess, escaped Eric, and Clara felt his arm curl around her waist. Satisfied that he had wakened, she tilted her head so that she could look into his eyes.
"Good morning," she murmured.
"Good morning," he replied, a distinct touch of amusement in his tone. He grinned sleepily at her. "You seem to be in exceptionally good spirits."
A laugh spilled from Clara. "Do I?"
Eric hummed in confirmation and cupped the back of her head, pulling her into a kiss. Clara cradled his face, sweeping her thumbs over his cheeks, which were rough with the beginnings of a beard.
"You should probably shave before we go downstairs," she teased.
"I'd rather just stay in bed all morning," he said humorously.
"All morning?" Clara grinned. "How dreadfully lazy of us."
"Doesn't it sound marvelous?" Eric leaned forward, nuzzling the crook of Clara's neck. He smiled at the giggle the action earned, keeping his arm tight around her so she couldn't squirm away. "No responsibilities, no obligations. Just you and me."
"Hm," said Clara. She massaged the nape of his neck, loving the way his muscles slackened whenever she rubbed a particularly low spot. "And exactly how long will this little sleep-in last? Til noon? Or beyond that?"
"For as long as we want." Eric began to trail a line of kisses along her jaw. "Forever," he finally said, pausing to whisper the decision against her skin. "We'll give someone else the throne, and we shall stay here."
Clara smirked. "Will we now?" She moved her fingers upwards, combing them through his hair. "And I thought you were starting to like the job." She shifted, adjusting her legs so that they were flush with Eric's. But in doing so, the bedsheets were tugged down by her foot, exposing the upper half of their bodies to the brisk winter air that had infected the room during the night.
Eric shuddered at the chill, and Clara could not help laughing at his disgruntled expression. "Are you cold, dearest?"
Eric grabbed the sheets and yanked them back into place. "Winters are never this cold in Parthenia," he huffed. "How could you bear to live in such weather before?"
Clara shook her head. "The things I put you through," she sighed mockingly. She rubbed her hand up and down his arm in an attempt to ward off the cold. "I forget how pampered you royals are."
Eric laughed. "Yes, we are quite the pathetic lot, aren't we? How unfortunate that you married one. Probably wasn't the wisest decision."
"Probably not," agreed Clara. She pecked a quick kiss on his nose. "Do not worry, love. I shall make certain you are in the utmost comfort." Then she abruptly twisted away from Eric and slid towards the edge of the bed.
A disappointed cry rose in Eric's throat. He grabbed for her, but Clara, looking highly amused by his efforts, freed herself from the tangled sheets before he could ensnare her. She shivered as her bare feet touched the floorboards, and part of her silently agreed with Eric's disapproval of the relentless cold that plagued her hometown during the long winter months. At the castle, their rooms never quite reached the freezing temperatures it did in the Drosselmeyer house. The more mild Parthenian weather was partly to attribute for that, though magic (often performed by Hoffmann or Clara) was also a factor.
Clara reached for her robe, which was draped over a nearby chair. She wrapped it snugly around her body, then made her way to the fireplace. It had been blazing the night before, covering the room with a thick warmth that had made sleeping quite comfortable. Now all that was left were a few blackened coal pieces. No heat radiated from them now, though Clara hoped to remedy that. She turned to the pile of wood set to the side of the fireplace, and was surprised to see Eric crouch down beside her.
Clara smiled at the blanket wrapped around Eric's shoulders. "Where is your robe?"
Eric shrugged and reached for the firewood. "Haven't bothered to unpack it yet." He dropped two logs into the fireplace, then he sat back on his heels and glanced at Clara.
Clara pursed her lips in concentration as she leaned forward. She stretched out her hand and delicately touched two fingers to the logs. A moment passed, and then a sudden rush of magic blazed across the wood's surface. Clara snapped her hand back, and a second later flames burst from between the logs, licking upwards into the ashy air of the fireplace.
Eric exhaled in relief at the warmth, casting a look of both appreciation and pride in Clara's direction. He reached into the pocket of his sleep trousers, and pulled out a small paper bundle tied with a violet ribbon.
He held it out to her. "Merry Christmas, Clara."
Clara's eyebrows raised in surprise. "I thought we were going to open presents downstairs with everyone else," she said. But she reached for the bundle regardless.
"Yours is there, along with the others," reassured Eric. "This is something…additional."
Clara gave him an embarrassed look. "Eric, you didn't need to do that."
Eric merely smiled. He glanced down at the bundle in her hands, unable to hide his tentative eagerness. Clara felt her lips curve upwards, finding his boyish expression incredibly charming. She turned her attention to the gift and carefully pulled the ribbon free. Setting it aside, she placed the bundle in her lap and peeled back the folded layers.
Cradled in the center of the paper was a ring made from a type of Parthenian metal that looked like frosted glass. The ring was of a simple but elegant design, decorated with intricately carved snowflakes that circled the entirety of the band. A tiny diamond had been placed in the center of each snowflake, each of which sparkled happily in the morning light. An inscription was engraved on the inside of the ring in graceful, looping letters:
Beloved Clara, protectress mine. Forever will I stand by you and be only thine.
"Oh, Eric," breathed Clara in awe. She rotated the ring slowly, her eyes shining as she read the words. "It's wonderful."
Looking pleased with her reaction, Eric pulled the ring from her grasp and slipped it onto her right hand's finger. He clasped her hand between the both of his, then lifted his gaze to meet hers. "You saved my life, Clara," he said. "In more ways than one. You believed in me, inspired me, and gave me the confidence I needed to better myself. I would not be the man I am today without you." He raised her hand to his lips, kissing it. "I promise, I will always be by your side. To protect you as you do me, and to give you the love you so very deserve."
Emotion surged up within Clara, and she found herself quite unable to speak in the wake of it. "Thank you, Eric," she finally whispered, tears welling in her eyes. "For everything. I cannot imagine my life without you."
Eric smiled and drew her into a kiss, uncaring how the blanket slipped from his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around her. Clara felt the blanket slide down his body and managed to catch it against his lower back, holding there as best she could. He chuckled at her efforts, and she could not help grinning along with him.
The sudden sound of pattering footsteps rushed past their bedroom door, catching both their attentions. Clara broke the kiss, though she looked reluctant to do so. "That'll be Tommy," she said, sounding both amused and disappointed by the distraction.
"Those poor presents don't stand a chance," Eric laughed. "Shall we join him downstairs?"
"What happened to your plan to stay in bed all morning?" Clara asked teasingly.
Eric gave a mock sigh. "I suppose we must let it be, for now. Imagine what the house staff would say if we followed through with it?"
"You're absolutely right," said Clara in a matter-of-fact tone. "We cannot let ourselves become victim to gossip. Especially on Christmas day."
"How right you are, love." Eric stood, letting the blanket fall to the ground about his ankles. He held out his hand, which Clara gladly took. "Besides," he added as he pulled Clara to her feet. "I would hate to miss your grandfather's reaction to the gift we brought for Tommy."
Clara frowned in confusion. "Why Grandfather in particular?" Alarm shot through her. "Eric, you didn't. What did you do to the gift?"
Looking rather smug, Eric walked over to his traveling trunk, which had been placed on a cushioned seat.
Clara hurried to her husband's side. "Eric, did you enchant Tommy's gift?"
Eric busied himself with rummaging through his messily packed clothes.
"Eric."
Eric turned and planted a kiss on Clara's cheek. "It was only a small spell. Completely harmless, I assure you."
Clara groaned. "Eric…"
Quite unconcerned, Eric tugged at the ties to Clara's robe. "You should get dressed as well, my dear," he said. "Your dawdling will make us embarrassingly late for breakfast."
Clara gaped at him. "Of all the nerve," she sputtered.
Eric chuckled at her expression. "And I promise, the gift is nothing to fret over." He rested his hands on her waist. "Though I will be sure to abstain you from any responsibility from it should it produce even the slightest bit of destruction."
Despite herself, Clara felt her mouth twitch into the shadow of a smirk. "Well, I suppose there is some comfort to be found in that, then."
Eric's face twisted with mock offense. "Are you so willing to abandon me to your grandfather's wrath?"
"I most certainly am," said Clara. She reached up and seized the collar of Eric's nightshirt, pulling him down to give him a kiss. "There," she said as she released him. "For luck. For I shall not try to dissuade Grandfather if he wishes to speak with you."
"Perhaps we should stay in here for the day," mused Eric.
Clara laughed. "I think not. You brought this upon yourself."
"I suppose I have." Eric curled his fingers into the fabric of Clara's robe. "Yet regardless of any tragic events that may unfold as a result of certain gifts, I cannot imagine a better way to celebrate Christmas."
Clara smiled warmly at him. "Well to that, I agree wholeheartedly."
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Writing has been my lifelong love and passion. I've wanted to become a published author ever since I can remember, and now I think I might be able to make that dream a reality. I am currently writing a fairy tale-inspired YA fantasy novel, and hope to get it published once I complete it.
I've recently put together a blog website where I will post updates about my novel, as well some discussions on fairy tales, retellings, and the highs and lows of the writing process. My novel will be written in a very similar manner and style as "A Simple Touch," so if this story appealed to you, you are more than welcome to take a look at my blog.
This website doesn't allow me to post full urls, but the url name is simply kaceythiele.