Note: I do not own the Poldark series or its characters. All rights to BBC's Poldark and to Winston Graham. This is adapted from season 1 episode 4 of BBC's Poldark. Some of the characters' lines were from the said episode as well. This is written for its sole purpose to entertain. Enjoy reading! R&R please, thank you!

Ross hadn't been entirely sure how the evening would end. Christmas at Trenwith wasn't an everyday occasion, let alone for every year. For Ross, all the Christmases that he had had at Trenwith had been memorable and pleasurable in the company of his family and friends. Christmases at Trenwith had always been warm and welcoming and all the people had always been a most expected and merry sight. Indeed, this year's Christmas would be an exception for many reasons.

Demelza was one of those reasons. Ross did not fear bringing his wife to the Trenwith household. He knew that Francis and Elizabeth would receive Demelza in the most cordial of ways, and truly they had done just that, except, beneath their welcoming and approachable countenance, Ross might have seen a sense of uncertainty as if they had been unsure to grace Demelza of their respects and courtesies.

It hadn't bothered Ross –truly, Demelza was more than their refined ways and he could not have been prouder, despite sensing Demelza's anxiety on their way to Trenwith. Perhaps, it had been less than a half mile away to Trenwith when Ross had felt Demelza's hand turn to an icy cold. He had looked at her but had not seen a trace of fear in her eyes or the anxiety she must had been feeling. Demelza's eyes had looked straight ahead, never once wavering in the midst of the cold. Her lips had been shut tight, hiding her gritted teeth. There is always this innate sense of determination in Demelza –a glowing fire within her that prods her along despite her fears that lay ahead.

Ross had not been able to help himself as he had taken Demelza's hand to his lips, breathing on it and kissing her delicate yet rough fingers one by one.

"Oh, Ross!" Demelza had said, clearly taken aback.

"I couldn't bear to let my wife's hands freeze in the cold now, could I?" He had laughed at her, taking her other hand to breathe on it and kiss it as well.

Demelza had let him and she had warmed incredibly at his touch. Ross had felt he could not have been happier to see his wife's pallid cheeks turn into a soft, rosy color, a perfect match to her sprightly hair of red.

Ross had continued to rub his fingers on the back of Demelza's hands as they caught sight of Trenwith's impressive façade. The sight of it had been enough for Demelza to relent more to the cold. Still, he had sensed Demelza's strained confidence and openness as Elizabeth received her in the great hall. Perhaps, Verity's earlier welcome towards them had caused Demelza to feel more relaxed.

Another matter had beforehand creased Ross' hard face. It was the matter of his past relationship with Elizabeth and his marriage to Demelza. Two women in one house! This had caused Ross to worry enormously that he had thought to decline Francis' invitation. But when he reassessed the matter, he knew that he wasn't worried of himself or of a conflict in the nature and truth of his feelings. Although, he did not reject the damned possibility. However, he had been more worried for Demelza's feelings than for anyone's. He would never act on anything that would her.

After a moment's reflection, he had decided that Christmas at Trenwith would suit them both. Nothing would please him more to see Demelza meet his family at last. For Demelza, on the other hand, it would be time to prove to everyone that she is not a woman of her circumstance but a woman of herself alone.

And the night could not have been as distinctive as any other Christmas eve when the Trenegloses and the Warleggans came knocking on Poldark door, not only wishing them all a merry Christmas but hoping to have a Christmas dinner with them! Ross decided that they were one of the many reasons why this year's Christmas was unpredictable as the dropping temperature of the weather.

Ross had been talking to Elizabeth and Francis in the winter parlour when the other parties came. The unexpected guests of the evening couldn't wait any longer to be welcomed by their hosts as they all went in to the winter parlour. Cary Warleggan explained their unforeseen visit −it was to give their compliments for this season as they were passing by Trenwith.

"Dinner is served." Verity said after Ross finished exchanging courtesies with George Warleggan and the rest of the party. Ross was grateful for this; he wasn't in any way inclined to make small conversations with his archenemy since childhood.

As both the ladies and the gentlemen moved to the dining area, Ross wondered where Demelza was. Everyone else was here except her. Surely, she wouldn't miss such a delightful Christmas treat despite feeling uneasy and nervous the whole day. Ross knew Demelza's appetite very well. Once, before they had married, Ross had asked Demelza to eat with him after a day's hard work. He had offered her his bowl of baked beans and muttons that she had prepared for him. Before Ross could pour himself of Demelza's cooking, she had already finished. That had brought Ross to forget his troubles for the day when he had seen Demelza smile at him with a greasy mouth and a dead-beat face. But it had also pained him how tired and weary Demelza must had been for the day that she could finish a whole bowl without anyone's notice.

At Trenwith's enormous dining hall, the scent of baked lamb and roasted turkey appealed so much to their senses, that everyone was eager to start dinner once all was seated. Verity had helped Mrs. Tabb in preparing Christmas dinner and Ross thought no Christmas feast could be delightful than what the pair had prepared. He had been complimenting Mrs. Tabb for a job well done (despite the fact, that he hadn't even had a bite) when everyone suddenly stopped at the edge of the table and all talk ceased because of her. Demelza.

Ross could scarcely believe it. At the edge of the room was his wife, resplendent in a gown of burgundy with delicate golden flowers embroidered all over the silk. Her unruly red hair had been brushed well and had been tied up with a little of her curls tumbling lightly on one side of her face. The color of her gown suited her well, bringing out the creaminess of her skin. Her eyes showed no weakness, no worry, and no fear. In the candlelight of the dining hall, Demelza's eyes shimmered with a courageous intensity that blinded them all, as if baring herself in front of them. She was walking towards them with the utmost grace and regality, her beauty emanating from within. Ross thought how Demelza was becoming less of a stranger now. He could no longer see the girl of thirteen, beaten and helpless; he could only see the beautiful, strong woman Demelza has become.

"Demelza," Ross pushed his way from the guests and walked towards her. He was smiling as if he had never smiled before. His heart was pounding hard, calling out to her, as if it had never done so before. And he looked at Demelza as if he were seeing her for the first time. He took Demelza's hand into his own and stared for a moment into her eyes. Ross saw how extremely well she has been taking this all in; she was hiding her fears within. But not ever did she flinch or look away. Demelza was letting Ross see how frightened she was and he was there to keep her secret safe.

"Let me introduce you." Ross finally said as he looked back to the other side of the hall, Demelza's hands firmly clasped in his.