A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth
Maria and Robin explored further. They did not find any love letters squirreled away in a desk, nor did they come across an ancient diary that promised the secrets of the dead. They unearthed old articles of clothing and tried them on, sending clouds of dust mushrooming up into the air. Robin exhumed a pile of schoolbooks. After realizing what they were, he dropped them like a hot potato and left them to further disintegrate.
Maria chuckled. She had stumbled upon a trove of tarnished brooches and was sifting through them meticulously. Many, if polished, could be worn proudly to a Sunday church service. Sunday. Church…
"Robin!"
Maria's exclamation was so sudden that Robin bumped his head on the lid of a chest.
"What? Something wrong?"
"No—sorry. I just—I just realized that the wedding is Sunday, after church, and that's Christmas."
"But you already knew that," he pointed out.
"Yes, but Robin, gifts! I haven't even thought about what I'll give everyone for Christmas! I've been too busy, well, almost dying, for one. But oh, I really should have thought more about this. Now what am I to do?"
"Well," he considered, "you don't have to get me anything; you're all I wanted anyway. But I think—"
"Robin," she cut him off, eyes bright, "That was…that was sweet."
"Hm? Yes, I suppose it was." He grinned slightly. "But as I was saying, I imagine we could go to town tomorrow and go shopping for whatever you want."
"Yes," she considered, "but it wouldn't be personal. I want to make something, or do something, or…oh, I don't have much time!"
"Hold on, now," he straightened up from the chest he'd been examining and crossed over to her, plopping down on the dusty floor. "Let's make a list. Who do you want to give presents to?"
"Well, Miss Heliotrope and Digweed. Uncle Benjamin and Loveday. Your father. Marmaduke. I…I suppose that's all."
"All right. My father especially likes food; we could bake something for him."
"I don't suppose the fact that you'd probably get to eat it too has any bearing on the matter?"
"It did cross my mind," his eyes glinted, "but my father does like food. What's a Christmas food we could make?"
"Christmas cookies are always good," Maria said, thinking out loud. "Or cranberry bread. I can make that pretty well."
"Cranberry bread? It sounds healthy." Robin uttered this last word as though it were foul.
"Not really; once you add the sugar and the sweet orange glaze and—"
"Orange glaze? I love oranges. We should definitely—that is, my father loves oranges. I know he'd appreciate that. Yes."
"Always thinking of others, aren't you, Robin?" Maria laughed.
"That's me." He closed his eyes, putting his hand on his heart. "The soul of selflessness."
"Yes, something like that. All right, we can easily do that tomorrow. Perhaps we ought to make Marmaduke one too; he always takes such care in feeding us, we have never had a chance to make him something."
"And maybe we ought to make a third one, just in case." Maria raised an eyebrow.
"Just in case you get hungry?"
"That was the general idea, yes."
"We'll see. Now what about Loveday and Uncle and Miss Heliotrope and Digweed?" Her gaze scanned the brooches in front of her. "I wonder if Miss Heliotrope would like one of these, if I could clean it up." She studied them. A glittering snowflake. Were those diamonds? A dragonfly with sapphire wings. The cameo of a woman. A turquoise fleur-de-lis. A deep amethyst sprig of star-like flowers. A ruby—
"Wait," Maria said almost unconsciously. She picked up the purple flowers. "Aren't heliotropes a type of purple flower?"
"You're asking me?"
"I think they are," she said slowly. "I'd have to clean it up, but yes, I think this would do nicely." She looked down at her dress. "Why cannot dresses have pockets? I don't suppose you could keep this for me?"
"I suppose I could." He pocketed the brooch. "That leaves Digweed, Loveday, and Sir Benjamin."
"Yes." She twiddled her thumbs. "Digweed. What will he—I know! What about a honeymoon?"
"Excuse me?"
"I could pay for Miss Heliotrope and Digweed's honeymoon! Wherever they wanted to go. A romantic getaway. What do you think?"
"That would cost a lot," Robin said doubtfully.
"I'm not entirely without means," Maria smiled a little. "But then what shall we do with Loveday and Uncle? I suppose I may call them 'Aunt and Uncle', though it feels odd on the tongue."
"Well," Robin glanced around, as though to check for eavesdroppers. "I don't know if I'm at liberty to tell you this, but—and mind, it's not certain or anything, and it would be months until—"
"You have my attention. Please get to the point."
"Well, I—I think they might be having a baby. Loveday and Sir Benjamin."
Maria sat entirely still for about ten seconds. Then she practically exploded with joy.
"Robin, do you know how wonderful that is? But will it be a boy or girl? When will it be born? Their very first! My cousin! And yours of course, too. They must be ecstatic! How did you know? Who told you? When will they announce it? How—" she continued for a moment longer, but her voice was muffled by Robin's hand.
"Slow down. I just heard Loveday insinuate that there might be one on the way. It'd be born in, like, nine months. Eight months? I'm not sure. Now if I let you speak, will you keep squealing or will you settle down?" Her eyes rolled. He removed his hand.
"I was just very excited, that's all." She pouted momentarily, but could hardly keep from bouncing back. "And I have good reason to be excited! I've never really had much to do with babies, but I hope it'll like me."
"Of course it'll like you," Robin scoffed. "How could it not? Anyway, when they got married, I'd started making a cradle for them. I knew eventually they'd have kids, it was only a matter of when. So that's my gift to them; maybe you could make a baby blanket?"
"I am in the midst of making a blanket, and it could pass for a baby blanket. But…I don't think it'd be right to give them that for Christmas if they haven't really announced it yet."
"You leave that to me," Robin said mysteriously. Maria arched an eyebrow but decided against prodding.
"We should probably get back to the party. They'll be wondering where we went." He sighed, standing with her.
"I guess so. This has been a nice interlude." Then, upon seeing her shocked face: "What?"
"I just didn't expect you to know that word: 'interlude'."
"I'm not entirely uncultured."
"No. Not entirely." She kissed him. "We'd better blow these candles out." And so they did, finally returning to the door with reluctance in their step. "Goodbye, ghosts," Maria said wistfully, "we'll see you again." And despite its sluggish groans of protest, Robin swung the heavy door closed.
A/N: Dear reader,
Thank you for sticking with me thus far! This is a hectic time of the year, and I appreciate your patience. Many thanks to all of you who review my stories.
I remain your
Ponygirl7