Meg sat on the overly ornate throne. The fire to her right was crackling even more excitedly than usual. Deep below in the cellars of the opera, the air was cold. Not surprising since they were so deep into the Earth. Which above the surface was being softly blanketed by thick snow. Now that Erik had business upstairs, Meg would sometimes descend into their home to relax away from talkative ballet girls. Since it was a day off for performers, Meg happily stayed in the house by the lake. She cleaned the kitchen, made the bed, started a long-simmering soup, and straightened up the drawing room before settling deep into the throne.
A green shawl Erik had gifted her with before they were married was wrapped around her shoulders. The tassels on the edges were in far better condition than any of them would have expected. She would run her hands over them anytime she wanted to keep her hands busy. Even when she didn't notice she was touching them, she always did with most revenant care.
Erik would be very quiet when he wanted to. He came in without detection, she was so engrossed her novel it would take more than a quiet door to catch her attention. The sight he was met with was exactly what made all of his misfortunes worthwhile. His wife in an emerald dressing gown curled up in a chair in their home. By their fireplace reading one of their books. Erik stood undetected for a few moments more, unable to break her peace.
"Good evening." He broke the sound of the fire and scared her into dropping the novel. After recovering from the fright and scolding him a little she returned the sentiment. Erik put the box in his hand on the loveseat and walked over to give her a kiss that was happily returned.
"I made soup since it's so cold tonight. It should be done, are you hungry?" After they ate Meg couldn't help but ask about the box.
"Ah, so you want to know your surprise?" Erik teased.
"My surprise? Oh, it is for me!" Meg grew excited at the prospect of a gift, and before Christmas too. Meg did celebrate Hanukkah but she did celebrate Christmas in her way. Everyone around her did and it felt nice to participate.
"Mostly." This quirked her curiosity. Seeing her face, he continued. "In a way, it is for me as well." and with that, he left the dining table to retrieve the gift. Meg followed him out with their glasses of wine and he gestured for her to open the box as she met him.
Untying the large red ribbon from the box Erik picked knowing she'd love it, Meg opened a box to see not one, but two pairs of ice skates. The kind that clipped onto the shoes. Taking a pair in her hands she held them up to say a somewhat frightened thank you but before she could he started to nervously ramble.
"I know you don't know how to skate but I have missed it from my travels and I think I could teach you. If you are afraid we can stay right here but I was-" Meg stopped him with her sweet laugh.
"Oh, Erik! I'd love to try." She lifted them up and looked at the shiny silver blades. "But I will need your help." Meg didn't mind that. The thought of skating in the snow with him outside was wonderful, and she loved the fact that he wanted to teach her something from his travels.
Meg clung to his arms as she yelped. She had taken two steps onto the ice and immediately regretted every moment since opening the box. Her pink ice-bit face betrayed her as she decided that she had absolutely no business being on the ice and that her place belonged on the more forgiving wood of the stage. Nails dug into the forearms his coat as he held her up.
"I got you." Cooing to her and keeping her steady. "The ice is completely safe." He had thoroughly made sure the ice was solid enough by making impressive figure eights and circling the pond to make sure no one would fall in. "I have you. Meg, can you stand up?" She shook her head quickly. "I promise I won't let you fall, we are standing still." She took a breath and slowly stood in her many layers that kept her warm in the cold air of the middle of the night. Meg thanked that it was so late. No one was around to see her fail. Graceful dancer with a name for herself in the opera. Bumbling like a little doe on the ice in a corner of Paris.
Once he had her up they stood for a few moments. He let her feel stable before taking a step backward. She let out a smaller yelp then before but fell forward and again. They continued until she finally was able skating forward without falling. He let go of her then, for only a moment.
"Why would you let go!" She stayed very, very still with her eyes closed.
"I am right here. Skate to me." Meh wondered then if this was how he was taught. Somewhere in Russia? Or was it - oh nevermind, she thought.
"Ma Cherie, lady of the stage, Prima dancer, belle you can take on whatever you wish..." She pried her eyes open to see him not more than two tiny glides away. To her, it still felt too far on her own. "Skate to me." He implored softly.
She gathered her courage, the same one she gathered before debuting on the Palais stage. And slowly made her way to him. All by herself! When she got close she clung to him cheering for herself.
"See, I knew you could do it!" He held her close and peppered her pink face with kisses. After kissing her he asked if she'd like to try again.
"In a moment," She hummed and buried her face into his scarf. After a few moments, she looked up and around them. The thick snow had begun to fall again. It looked like one of those pretty paintings she'd seen in a museum somewhere in town.
"Look." She gasped. Erik hadn't noticed the snow while he was watching Meg. Looking around them Erik took in every little sight with a tear in his eye. This may not have been the life he expected but she was everything to him. She was his soft snow, she was his sunshine in the blistering summer. Even as they stood lonesome in Paris, with only a few strangers passing by, they were out. Above the lair, together. Without worrying about anyone else.
She gave him the gift of happiness in the simplest and most complex form. He kissed her again and began to move back again. This time she didn't yelp but she most definitely clung to him as they glided little by little in the thick snow under a romantic Parisian night.
