One year later…

Winter sunlight streamed through the window, pouring onto the crumpled bedsheets in pools of pale yellow. Eric blinked against the morning glare, shifting groggily as the heaviness of sleep was lifted from him. He turned onto his side, and his lips curved into a smile.

Clara was facing away from him in her sleep, her hair spilling over both her and Eric's pillows in golden ribbons. She was wearing a simple white nightgown, but the sleeve had been pulled down partway in her sleep, exposing the smooth skin of her shoulder. Eric moved closer to his wife and pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder. Rubbing a hand down her arm, he placed another kiss on the skin between her shoulder and neck. Clara shifted beneath the touch, emitting a soft sigh.

"Eric…" murmured Clara drowsily. "Eric, I was sleeping…"

"Sorry, love," whispered Eric. "But you looked so beautiful. Really, it wasn't fair to me. What else was I supposed to do?"

Clara chuckled. She turned over so that she was facing her husband. "You're ridiculous, has anyone told you that?"

"Multiple people have. Mostly you, though."

Clara shook her head in amusement. Then she frowned. "When did you come to bed last night? You promised you weren't going to be long, but I'm afraid I fell asleep waiting for you."

"Yes, I noticed."

"So how late then?" pressed Clara.

Eric shrugged. "Late. I don't know."

"Eric." Clara's frown deepened in concern.

"There was work to be done. I couldn't leave it."

"You're overworking yourself."

"Nonsense." Eric pressed a light kiss to her neck, letting his lips linger there.

Clara sighed at the blissful sensation. Reluctantly, she pushed him away. "We should get ready for breakfast. You know how Masha gets when we're late. Cinnamon rolls taste terrible when cold, as she's told us multiple times."

"I think we can wait a little longer." That last word trailed off into a mumble as Eric pressed his mouth to Clara's.

A happy noise emanated from Clara and, relenting, she sunk her fingers into his hair to pull him close.

/

"I was beginning to wonder if you had taken ill," commented Masha as she set a tray of toast on the table.

Clara gave Eric a look of exasperation. "I told you," she mouthed.

Eric chuckled. "Sorry Masha," he said cheerfully. "It was my fault. I was being rather lazy this morning, I'm afraid."

"Why does that not surprise me?" huffed the castle's head cook. She waved impatiently at the table. "Oh, hurry up and sit before the food gets cold."

They were in the smaller dining hall, meant for private meals. All that had been placed on the table this morning were a few simple breakfast dishes. But simplicity never detracted from quality in Masha's cooking, and Clara felt her stomach rumble as she neared it.

"It smells marvelous, as usual, Masha," praised Eric.

Masha brushed at her apron, looking pleased.

Clara frowned in confusion, noting the extra dish set that had been laid out. "But who is the third set for?"

"For me, of course!"

Clara spun around at the familiar voice. "Aunt Elizabeth!" Grinning broadly, Clara rushed into her aunt's outstretched arms. "Oh, how ever did you manage to visit so close to Christmas?"

"Luck, and perhaps a little extra magic," answered Elizabeth Drosselmeyer with a wink. "I simply couldn't miss your first Christmas in Parthenia. I had to make sure it was done properly, after all." She turned to Eric and embraced him, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Eric dear, how are you?"

"Fine, Elizabeth," smiled Eric. "And you?"

"Bored," declared Elizabeth with a dramatic wave of her hand. "There is little to do at home, and the weather is simply dreadful. So I thought I'd take a small holiday."

"How are Grandfather and Tommy?" asked Clara.

"Your grandfather is as ridiculous as ever. Tommy is maturing…slowly. He misses his sister though," she added warmly.

Clara sobered at that. When she had accepted Eric's proposal, she had not truly been expecting her grandfather to accompany her to Parthenia, even if the idea had been amusing. Her grandfather was not a man friendly to change. It was hard enough for him to accept the idea of Clara going off to some "strange country" to marry a boy he barely approved of. He eventually warmed to Eric, but asking him to allow Tommy to live in Parthenia was out of the question. Tommy was to grow under his grandfather's guidance, to become a proper man suitable for society. Clara saw her brother as often as she could, but it sometimes became difficult, due to the time shifts that accompanied world traveling.

"Perhaps Grandfather will allow Tommy to visit in the near future," Clara said, hope tinging her words.

"I'll see what I can do," reassured Elizabeth. "Don't worry, Clara – Tommy will visit soon enough."

Clara nodded. "Are you hungry?" She gestured to the table. "I apologize; I should have invited you to sit earlier."

"Nothing to apologize for. Though I certainly will be sampling breakfast. Masha's cooking alone is reason enough to come," she teased.

"Thank you, my lady," Masha said proudly. Holding a large teapot, she bent forward and filled Elizabeth's cup. The pink drink sent up wisps of hot steam, carrying with it the faint scent of peppermint and vanilla.

Breakfast was pleasant, with everyone engaging in cheerful conversation. Eric seemed quieter than usual, and Clara couldn't help but notice just how tired he looked in the morning light. But she refrained from commenting, not wishing to embarrass him in front of her aunt.

Afterwards, Eric, Clara, and Elizabeth made their way towards the main library. As they approached it, the sounds of muffled shouting could be heard from the other side of the closed doors.

"Oh no," muttered Eric with a rueful smile. He opened the door, revealing a disgruntled Captain Candy and red-faced Major Mint. The two turned towards the doorway at the intrusion; upon seeing who was standing there, Major Mint stormed forward.

"Your Majesties, Lady Drosselmeyer, thank goodness! I was hoping to discuss this with a person of sense."

"Sense?" exclaimed Captain Candy. "Sense is the last thing anyone would attribute to you! It is impossible to speak rationally to someone with such a high opinion of themselves that they no longer are capable of seeing reason!"

Major Mint opened his mouth to retort, but Eric quickly held up his hand. "What seems to be the matter, gentlemen?"

"It's the decorations for the Christmas party," said Captain Candy. "Major Mint insists that the proper colors for Christmas are blue and red, but I know for a fact that they are green and red! How are we to hold a proper Christmas celebration if this halfwit cannot even get the simple colors right?"

"Halfwit?" roared Major Mint. "I'll show you halfwit, you…you incompetent cad!"

"Old, stuffed windbag!"

"Cheeky, good-for-nothing blaggard!"

"Oh dear…" Clara pressed a hand to her cheek, shaking her head. There was a gentle tap on her shoulder, and she turned to see Eric gesturing for her to follow him.

"Before they notice," he whispered with a wink.

Clara looked at Elizabeth, who quickly shooed at them with her hands. Certain that her aunt would set the matter straight between Major Mint and Captain Candy, Clara grinned and took Eric's hand, allowing him to pull her into the hallway.

"This way." Eric tugged her further away from the escalating sounds of the squabble.

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere new." With confidence befitting a king, and the excitement of a lover, Eric led her to a niche in the corner of the hallway.

Built into the niche was the statue of a women dressed in flowing robes; in her hand she held the branch of a holly tree. Keeping one hand entwined in Clara's, Eric grasped the holly branch with the other and pulled down. There was the sound of stone grinding against the marble floor as the statue rotated, revealing an opening in the wall wide enough for a single person to squeeze through.

"You've never shown me this passage before," said Clara curiously.

Looking rather proud, Eric stepped aside and waved his hand. "After you."

Clara slipped through the gap easily. Eric quickly followed; once inside, he pulled a second lever on the inside of the passageway. The hidden door closed, plunging them into darkness.

"Illustrant," Eric whispered.

A small torch on the wall immediately lit itself in response to the incantation, it's icy blue flame blanketing the passage in a wintery glow. Sparsely-placed torches quickly followed, lighting a pathway before them.

"I'm certain I'll never get tired of magic," commented Clara wistfully.

"I wish we would use it more frequently," Eric admitted. "And not just for small things."

Clara threaded her fingers back through Eric's. "Come now, dear. We both know exactly what happens when one uses powerful magic too much. That scepter is best used only in real necessity."

Eric grimaced, and Clara gave his hand a squeeze. "Besides," she added. "If we relied on magic for everything, I'm afraid we'd become terribly lazy."

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" chuckled Eric. He gave her hand a gentle tug. "Come, I have something to show you."

He pulled her down the passageway, their footsteps echoing softly against the stone walls.

"I do hope Aunt Elizabeth is able to sort everything out," said Clara. "Perhaps we shouldn't have planned a Christmas celebration. After all, it's not even a holiday celebrated in Parthenia."

"Of course we should celebrate it," Eric said. "Everyone in the castle is looking forward to it. Both Major Mint and Captain Candy highly respect your aunt; she'll be able to handle them with little difficulty."

"I suppose."

"And I wouldn't have insisted on the celebration if I didn't think it was a good idea," said Eric. He looked back at her and smiled. "We don't have much farther now."

Clara glanced down at Eric's hand, suddenly realizing how hot it felt. "Are you alright? Your skin feels oddly warm."

Eric's grip on her faltered momentarily. "I'm fine, Clara."

Clara pressed her lips together, suspicious. But before she could press him, they turned a corner and emerged through a stone archway into a shimmering, empty room.

The walls were made from material that looked like frosted mirror glass, curving gracefully to create a rounded dome shape. The floor was white smooth stone, providing cloudy reflections of those peering into it. Hovering all around them were tiny particles of light, no larger than fireflies. The lights drifted lazily through the air, twinkling softly.

"This place is beautiful, Eric!" exclaimed Clara. She all but yanked Eric into the center of the room in her excitement, spinning them around as she twisted to get a full view of the place.

Eric laughed. "Yes, it is, isn't it?"

"Why haven't you brought me here before?"

"I wanted to save it for a special occasion. Christmas Eve seemed like a good idea."

"It's perfect," Clara said, pulling Eric into a kiss. But she broke it off quickly, looking at him in concern. "Are you sure you're alright? You're so warm."

"It's probably just exertion from escaping Major Mint and Captain Candy," said Eric lightly. "But enough fretting over me. Do you want to dance?"

Clara nodded, forcing the concern from her mind. If Eric insisted he was fine, she would trust his judgment.

Eric raised his hand and snapped his fingers twice in quick succession. Immediately a soft, tinkering song began to play.

"What…?" wondered Clara. Then she realized that the music was coming from the floating lights, each of which were a different music note that, when flashed, played their part in the song.

"Did you make all this?" Clara asked, mesmerized.

Eric took Clara's hand and swept her off into a gentle waltz. "No, I found it when I was a boy. The only thing added was the music. And I had a lot of help with that. It's a much more complicated charm than one would expect."

"I don't doubt it," said Clara. "Thank you. This is wonderful."

Eric simply smiled. They danced for a while, and Clara's thoughts wandered back to their first dance they shared after Eric's curse had been broken. She had been cautious and awed around his new form, while he was eager, yet careful. They had come so far since then.

But Eric was quickly tiring now. Clara noticed it after the first song had finished, and halfway through the second one she tugged him to a stop.

"Is everything alright?" asked Eric. He sounded exhausted, even though Clara could tell he was desperately trying to hide it.

Clara grimaced, tightening her hand in his. "Eric, I appreciate this – immensely. But it's clear that something is wrong with you. We're going back and fetching a doctor."

Eric sighed. "I'm just a little tired, Clara."

Clara shook her head. "No, you're not." Keeping her hand linked to his, she led him towards the archway. "Come on, let's go."

Reluctantly, Eric followed her back into the tunnel. They only went a little way before Clara felt Eric's grip slackening. Alarmed, Clara turned around. "Eric?"

Eric placed a hand against the wall to steady himself. He was hunched over slightly, his chest heaving as he fought for breath. Clara hurried to his side, pushing his hair back to get a better look at his face. The color had all but drained from it, and he looked like he was about to be sick.

"Eric, what is it?" asked Clara desperately.

"Clara…" Eric slurred. "Something's wrong…" Then he slid down the wall, his body going limp against Clara as she struggled to break his fall.

"Eric! Eric!"