A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth

Robin pushed the heavy door open. It gave a great weary groan, accompanied by the unwilling squeaks of hinges long rusted. A wave of cold and dampness swept over them. Robin and Maria stood for a moment, peering in. Then Maria, taking initiative, stepped blindly into the dark room.

The floor was solid but velvet soft under her bare feet. It occurred to her that she was likely stepping upon layers of dust. Grimacing slightly, she felt around. The room must be large; she could feel no immediate walls. The situation would be much improved if they had a light. Turning back to Robin, she asked,

"Have you a—"

Robin's features were illuminated by a flickering flame.

"I suppose you have, then," she chuckled. Leave it to Robin to keep matches with him. "Let's see if we can find a candle." They walked further in, hugging a wall.

"Oh!" Maria bumped into a large wooden object which, upon further inspection, proved to be a chest of drawers. "There's got to be a candle somewhere,
Maria said, rifling through the drawers, "I don't want the match burning down to your fingertips…aha!" She arose victorious, brandishing a fistful of browned tallow candles.

"You want me to light them all?" Robin's brow creased dubiously.

"Then we can set them around the room, and have a good look at the place," Maria explained.

"Oh."

"Come; we'll put candles along the wall until we reach the door again."

"I didn't know you had worked up a strategy."

"I know how to manage things, you included."

"Is that so?" He chuckled.

"You need someone who can manage you."

"I think I can manage myself just fine."

"All boys think that. It's only when they get a girl who actually keeps them in order that they find out what they lacked before."

"Well, that may be," Robin said, looking for all his neck feathers like a ruffled hen, "But you couldn't do without us men either."

"Do tell."

"How would you reach something high up? Or bring home animals for food? Or…or unscrew cans?" He lowered his chin, expectancy in his eyes, as though this final point was sure to win his case.

"I suppose you do have your benefits," Maria allowed, "but if we continue to argue, your match will soon be extinguished. We can argue in a moment."

"All right," he complied. They did as Maria had suggested, keeping to the outside wall and lighting a candle when they came upon a place to set it. Finally they came full circle, returning to the doorway. Then they turned to see the fruits of their work.

The attic room was quite visible now, bathed in warm, flickering yellow light. The ceiling was high and domed, coming to a point in the middle. Maria deduced that they must be in one of the towers. The room itself was spacious and circular, scattered with trunks and chests and hatboxes and a large wardrobe. Everything was carpeted in dust so that it appeared to be slightly fuzzy, and gave the illusion that the viewer's vision was impaired.

"Well Princess, I don't see any ghosts," Robin said, blowing out his match, which had dwindled to a charred stump.

"Ah, but I do." Maria's eyes glowed.

"Uh…" Robin followed her gaze, seeing nothing paranormal. "Princess?"

"Not spirits of the dead, Robin," she turned to him now, "I told you, those aren't real. They don't linger on the earth. But ghosts of the past, on the other hand…" she inhaled, closing her eyes. Robin watched her curiously. Her chestnut eyes flew open, sparkling. "Isn't this amazing? We're probably the first people to come in this room since who knows when? Maybe a hundred years! This manor is so very old—and everything in this room has sat motionless for so long, untouched…you can't tell me this isn't the least bit fascinating?"

"I…" he looked around. It was interesting, to be sure, though he wasn't as rapturous as Maria. But she didn't seem to be waiting for an answer, either. She had gone ahead and was already opening a faded pink hatbox.

"Oh." She frowned in disappointment. Robin looked over her shoulder. Instead of a grand hat, the box was stuffed with old scraps of fabric. "This, this right here," she said, slamming the lid on the box, "is what you would call 'anticlimactic'."

"They can't all be full of rubbish," Robin said confidently. He opened the top drawer of a nearby chest, to find an odd assortment of buttons, tobacco pipes, and tarnished cuff links. He quickly closed the drawer without saying anything. The next drawer contained samples of lace. The next held dessert recipes, which, while they could be useful, did not hold much appeal for the adventurous mind.

"Robin, come, look!" Maria said excitedly, from the other side of the room. She had flung open the large mahogany wardrobe. One side was entirely stacked with hats, while the other boasted furs and coats from who knows how long ago. Maria plucked a broad-brimmed olive green hat from the top. There was a sprig of flowers and what seemed to be a bird sitting atop the hat. She sat it carefully atop her curls.

"What do you think?" She twirled around prettily for effect.

"I think it's rather odd for a bird to be on top of a hat, don't you?"

"It was the style back then. And," her eyes danced merrily, "If you haven't noticed, you are a bird under a hat."

"I what?"

"Your name is Robin, you wear feathers, and a bowler hat sits atop your head."

"I—oh." He grinned sheepishly. "I see. I think you look better without the hat, though."

"Thank you, I suppose." She discarded the hat and chose another, this one made of straw and decorated with ribbon. "How about this one?"

"Honestly? It looks like an Easter egg basket." Maria considered his words.

"You're not wrong," she admitted, "though you put it indelicately. Here, let's see you try this one on." She selected a tricorn hat that reminded her of a soldier.

"And take off my bowler hat? You must be joking."

"No, I'm not joking; I'm Maria," she said patiently, "And I'd like to see what you'd look like with this on. Actually…" she chose another from the stack, this one a large sweeping hat that was reminiscent of the Three Musketeers. "This one's much more dashing, don't you think?"

"Well—yes," Robin couldn't deny the dramatic flair of the hat. "But—"

"Please?" She looked hopefully up into his eyes. He sighed reluctantly.

"Oh, all right." He handed her his bowler and she set the musketeer hat on his unruly curls, then stepped back to see.

"Why Robin, you're positively fashionable! A debonair gentleman."

"Yes, yes, I know. But does the hat do anything for my appearance?" He grinned.

"Oh, very funny," she chuckled, stepping closer.

"It's not very practical, though," he added as she straightened his neck feathers, "because I couldn't go hunting in it."

"Is that all you ever think about? Hunting?" Her tone was amused.

"Well, hunting, and you." She looked up, saying drily,

"I'm glad to know that I'm as important to you as the wild beasts of the forest. It means a lot to me." Robin rolled his eyes.

"Oh, you know I love you."

"Yes, I know." Her eyelashes fluttered, smile beaming. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him in the flickering candlelight, his curls grazing her forehead. She stepped away with a grin. "And I love you too."

"Yes," Robin chuckled, "I sort of got that impression."

A/N: Beloved reader,

Sorry I have to end this chapter here, but for the sake of chapter length continuity, we must keep this trimmed neatly. Thank you for reading my stories and reviewing with such encouragement. You make my day!

Faithfully,

Ponygirl7