A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth

Ambrose's fingers grew sweaty around the hairpin. Freedom was within his grasp. If he left, he would have to run. Leave Moonacre, leave the countryside. He would be free, but at what cost?

Jackie watched him, but she did not struggle against him. She made no effort to free her wrist from his grip, or to push him off of her. She seemed keenly interested in this decision he would have to make. He tried to meet her eyes, but her gaze was too strong for him. He averted his gaze to her lips, which was not very helpful. He felt a strong and sudden urge to kiss her. She must have seen this strange hunger in his eyes.

"You promised," she whispered. Her words jolted him out of an unexpected reverie.

"I promised," he echoed hollowly. He cleared his throat, stepping back. His fingers slid from hers, releasing her. "I promised." He squared his jaw in resentment. "Why in the world did I promise you that." Her eyebrows lifted in amusement.

"It was a moment of weakness." His shoulders slumped, defeated. Then the quiet words: "And I like you better for it." He dared to look up. "Well," she amended, shrugging, "I hate you slightly less."

"She hates me slightly less."

"Yes," her voice was stronger now, "I cannot lie and say that I like you; you've done too much for me to like you."

"Listen, I'm sorry—"

"No, you're not," she corrected, "not now. Probably at some point, hopefully soon, but not now."

"All right, then, what happens now? What do you think I will do?"

"What do you think I think you'll do?"

He paused, replaying her words slowly in his head.

"I think…I think you think I'll knock you out or something and leave."

"No."

"No?" He seemed surprised. She smirked.

"No. You don't have enough backbone for that."

"Are you calling me a coward?"

"Most definitely." It was matter-of-fact.

"Then since you're so smart, what do you think I'm going to do?" He hitched his thumbs in his belt-loops.

"I think you are going to either going to let me leave without a struggle, or you will force me to knock you out so that I can leave."

"You think you could knock me out?" He chuckled. She eyed him appraisingly.

"I don't think it'd take much." She leaned forward, away from the door, widening her stance. Her brown eyes were shrewd and unruffled and unfairly pretty. He was at a disadvantage. She was obviously not attracted to him, but he was not quite so immune to her charms.

"Well—well what if I swallow the hairpin? Or do you have more hairpins in your hair?" He looked at her hair suspiciously. She frowned.

"I may or may not have more hairpins, but why on earth would you swallow a hairpin? You might die."

"I'll admit that was a more poorly conceived plan than most," he conceded, "but—"

"You're stalling."

"…yes."

"That's cowardly." He crossed his arms.

"Now how is stalling cowardly?" She took a few steps toward him. Her footfalls were almost menacing. She looked straight up at him.

"You're afraid of consequences. Ambrose, you're so afraid." He blinked. "You're afraid of being poor." She took another step. "You're afraid for your reputation. You're afraid for your looks." She stepped closer. "You're afraid of boredom and responsibility and integrity and…and love." Her voice had been valiantly confident until the last word. She watched the emotions ripple on his face. "Or maybe—maybe you're afraid of love because you don't know how to love." She cocked her head sadly. "No one ever taught you." He tried very hard to get his thoughts under control.

"What are—love—love isn't something you are taught. What are you talking about?"

"Oh, it's taught," she assured him. "I was young when my parents died, but they taught me how to love. Love means sacrifice. It means unselfishness. You need to care about someone else more than yourself. And you, Ambrose—you don't know how to do that."

He froze. She slipped her hand into his and withdrew, taking her hairpin. He watched her do it, unresponsive. She took a long look at him, then turned to go.

"Why can't you teach me?" The words came out in a rush. She turned back.

"What?"

"Why can't you teach me? Teach me—teach me to love." He ended hoarsely. Merely saying this took an inordinate amount of bravery (or perhaps stupidity) on his part.

"You can't be serious."

"I'm rarely serious. This is an unusual moment for me, Jackie, and it won't last long. If you ever loved me—"

"I never loved you, Ambrose. I liked you."

"You like me now."

"I never said that. I said I hated you slightly less. There's a difference."

"How big of a difference?" She rolled her eyes.

"You're stalling again."

"Because I don't want you to go."

"Why, because you love me?"

"No," he struggled to find the words, "no, I don't, but—but I think I'd like to. If you could help me." She smiled sadly at him, and her voice trembled.

"Ambrose—just because I know how to love doesn't mean I can do it." She turned. "Not well, anyway." She would not let him see her cry. She would not.

"Well, that's not true. You love Robin, right? And you love him enough to let him be with Maria, if that's what he wants."

"No, that's just an example of me being cowardly." She chuckled drily, hugging her arms. "And it's really just me living in spite towards Maria and obsession over Robin without any legitimate claim on him." She grew quieter. "I don't even know if love was involved, come to think of it. Not really." She bit her lip. She'd never said this much to anyone. Exposing the soul this much could be dangerous, and they both knew it.

A minute passed, and in it, a million thoughts. Finally Ambrose broke the silence.

"Look at us." He ran a hand through his dark hair. "Two broken people." She took a deep breath.

"But one with a key." She turned back towards him. "Broken or not, it is Christmas." Her eyes began to gleam again. "Let's do something."

"Are you saying you'll let me out of this dungeon?"

"You must stay with me at all times; I don't want to get into trouble."

"Don't have to tell me twice." He beamed at her and was rewarded with a little smile. Oh, it would take some determined self control to keep him from kissing her.

"All right, then, criminal, follow me."

A/N: Beloved reader,

Thank you for continuing to read! I hope I have not disappointed you. Ambrose and Jackie are a little more complex than I would like, for it'd be so easy to just have them quickly fall in love and smack 'The End' on this story, but I don't think that would do them justice. Please let me know what you think, either of these characters, their relationship, or the story in general. I look forward to your responses!

Your

Ponygirl7