A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth

Coeur De Noir knocked on the front door. Robin craned his neck around his father to see inside. A glimpse of candles in the antechamber sent a shiver down Robin's spine, despite the dark chill outside. This was his first real Christmas, and he intended to enjoy every minute.

The door was opened by Lillian, whose wide eyes were bright as any of the candles in the room.

"Come in, come in, please," she said quickly, waving them in. The men didn't need to be told twice. They lumbered inside, shedding their heavy coats on the coat rack as they came. Robin was surprised Maria hadn't come to welcome them, but he tried to shrug off his disappointment. Lillian surveyed Robin. "You look very handsome tonight, Robin. I'm sure Maria will be pleased to see you."

"Thank you. But…where is she?"

"Oh, everything is just about ready for supper, so everyone is in there. I'm supposed to lead you in."

"Ah, I see." Robin nodded, waiting for Lillian to lead them in. But she didn't. Robin looked at his father, who was glaring expectantly at him. Then Robin realized that Lillian had complimented him, but he had not returned the favor. "You look very…nice tonight, too, Lillian. Eh, Miss Lillian."

"Please, just call me Lillian," she smiled easily, "And thank you." Robin nodded again.

"Of course. That is, you're welcome. I'll see myself in to the dining room, then." He walked forth from the front room, mentally slapping himself. Why was he suddenly acting so odd around Lillian? If he was being honest with himself, it was likely because he didn't know how to act towards a woman who was interested in his father. It not a situation in which one finds oneself every day. But really…he thought over his words just now, frowning to himself. 'Nice'? What woman wants to be called nice? Lillian looked very pretty this evening, even Robin could admit that. Why couldn't he have been his usual charming self and say she looked exquisite tonight? Hm. 'Exquisite' was a good word. He'd have to use that one for Maria; he was sure she would look pretty tonight, whatever she was wearing.

Out of curiosity, Robin paused in his steps, listening to see whether or not his father and Lillian were following. He heard no footsteps. Oh, Father. Why don't you up and propose already? Keep carrying on like this and everyone will just assume you've proposed. Or, worse yet, Lillian will leave and never come back. Robin didn't think he could deal with a heartbroken father again. When Robin's mother had died, it had left Coeur De Noir without light in his life. Everything was death and despair and greed and plotting. Of course, Robin didn't think his father would go on the warpath again, but this might turn Coeur De Noir into a gloomy, moping mess, and frankly, Robin wasn't sure which was worse.

He listened intently again. Ah, there were the footsteps. Content, Robin continued his journey to the dining room, admiring the gentle candlelit path with red ribbons and fragrant pinecones. He stepped into the dining room, dazzled by the sheer brilliancy of the glass chandelier. Once his eyes adjusted, he looked around the room at the already seated party members, from Loveday to Sir Benjamin to Miss Heliotrope to Digweed to…

He blinked. His mouth went dry. His feet took him automatically toward Maria, who beamed up at him.

"Merry Christmas Eve, Robin! Have a seat."

Had she said something? He wasn't sure. Well, he had to say something. Exquisite. That was the word. She was the epitome of exquisiteness. He opened his mouth.

"You look…nice."

Oh, well done, Robin, well done indeed. He grimaced. But Maria only laughed.

"Thank you. So do you. Won't you sit down?" She pushed out the seat next to her. She wanted him to sit down. Right. He sat and shuffled his chair in. What was the matter with him tonight? Where was the dashing rogue? Coeur De Noir and Lillian came in. Good, now everyone else was talking. Maria turned to him.

"Marmaduke's fixed up something splendid. I've been smelling it all afternoon, but he wouldn't let me in the kitchen."

"Oh."

"Is that all you can say? Robin, what's gotten into you?"

"I don't know. Maybe I'm nervous." She cocked her head, a curl gracing her brow.

"Nervous? Nervous about what? You've never had trouble eating before."

"Not about—not about eating. I'll eat more than you, I'll wager. But—" he broke off, unsure how to continue. Maria's brow creased worriedly.

"Is something wrong? Ambrose didn't escape, did he?"

"No, in fact, someone was just going to feed him as I left. He's fine."

"Then what's wrong?"

"Nothing." He fingered the lacey napkin in his lap. "Everything is good. I think that's why I'm nervous." He looked up to meet Maria's troubled gaze, lowering his voice. "Life's never been this good. I just feel like I'm in a dream, and I don't want to wake up, but…nothing good has ever lasted in Moonacre." Maria studied him for a moment. Then,

"Trepidation."

"What?"

"That's what it's called. Trepidation. A feeling that something bad is going to happen." She sighed. "I know your life hasn't been easy. And I'm not saying it's going to be easy from now on, either. But I'm not going to give up on you, so don't you dare give up on me." She emphasized her words by poking him in the shoulder. There was a quiet fierceness to her brown eyes, and Robin knew she meant every word. He shook his head, walking the fine line between maintaining eye contact and losing himself in her gaze.

"You."

"Me."

"What would I do without you?"

"Lucky you, you won't have to anymore." She said it with such bright certainty, it just might turn out to be true.

Then Robin groaned in frustration.

"Oh, what is it now?" He turned to her.

"I just wish we were alone so I could kiss you," he muttered under his breath. A grin broke out across her face.

"Sorry, but you'll have to save that thought. It's time to eat."

Sir Benjamin clinked his glass, and they all joined hands and prayed. Then Marmaduke sped in with the fattest turkey Robin had ever seen, adorned with who knows what. Robin would have to ask Maria what each kind of food was; they didn't have such fancy fare at the De Noir village. Gleaming silver platters stretched down the table within the blink of an eye, steam rising up with the most delectable aromas. Everyone began to talk and eat and laugh.

Robin, however, had a duty to fulfill. He turned to Maria. She wiggled her eyebrows merrily in return.

"Maria," he swallowed, "when I said you looked nice tonight…it was true, but it doesn't do you justice. You look exquisite. You…you glow." Her lips curved up.

"I know." Then, seeing his confused expression, she laughed. "I'm teasing. And thank you. I wonder how long it took you to think of the word 'exquisite'. But honestly, knowing that you were at a loss for words upon seeing me is probably more flattering than if you were to expound upon my beauty in iambic pentameter."

"In what?"

"Oh, it has to do with poetry. Never mind. And you look so handsome tonight, it almost makes me wish that we were alone too."

"Almost?" He raised an eyebrow, preening his neck feathers. "Are you kidding? I'm irresistible." She smirked.

"Then it seems I am very strong indeed, to keep resisting you." He grinned.

"Aye, but the evening is not over yet."

A/N: My dear readers,

Thank you so much for reading this! For some reason, the last little bit of this chapter made me think of Shakespeare's Julius Caesar (aside from the iambic pentameter remark), when JC says proudly to the Soothsayer: "the ides of March are come" and the Soothsayer replies ominously: "Ay, Caesar; but not gone". Except, in these circumstances, we're anticipating a sweet kiss and not a gory death. Ah, happy thoughts indeed! I want to especially thank Donutbird and MajorPayne67 today for their prompt and uplifting reviews. You truly made my day. Love you all!

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Ponygirl7