A/N: As promised. Although, not as quickly as I hoped. Life is taking it's toll on my writing abilities.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Little White Horse and/or The Secret of Moonacre.

"Her fever has broken; she should be out of the woods." An unfamiliar voice broke the silence of the room as Maria slowly slipped back into a world that she hadn't inhabited in a fortnight. Her vision blurred and she lolled her head, back and forth, attempting to find familiar shapes in the haze that now clouded her vision. Seconds passed and it seemed as though everyone had stilled; she could feel their heavy gazes, studying her every move as she attempted to regain her sanity and break through the confusion that had wrought her mind in turmoil. She stilled herself, not knowing quite where she was, and feigned sleep while also fighting against the urge to succumb to the darkness of it once more. She felt brittle and small because of this, the plague of nightmares and the disconcerting actions by herself and a gentleman that she had never, in her small experience with society, never met in passing. With weak hands she gripped the sheets, tremors running down her arms as she exerted the only force she'd shown in the past several days.

"Is she going to be okay? She's taken to screaming, lately, and it's been hard to make her stop. She's our only niece, we can't lose her and she's been speaking nonsense." Loveday's voice floated through the air to her, her Aunt's tone worn and soft, as if she hadn't spoken much in a while. Maria winced, knowing full well that Loveday had more than likely sat by her side throughout the entire ordeal. She felt the bed dip beside her and a large, warm hand envelope hers, a familiar scent wafting to her nostrils. The smell of cologne and Wrolf's pungent smell immediately set her at ease as her Uncle squeezed her hand, the heat and loving gesture, so little displayed by the somewhat stoic man, making her relax entirely.

"Where on earth could she have contracted this illness? She's only been in London and here since she's been out in society." The hand around her own tightened, but not enough to be painful, and Maria felt all the contentment of earlier leave her as she shot up in bed, the cold sweat she had accumulated throughout her confinement holding her hair to her face. Without preamble she retched, heaving what little her body had allowed her to eat while she was barely conscious. Loveday rushed forward with a wastebasket, as a pair of hands held her shoulders and another pulled her hair out of her face. Another scent, masked slightly by the putrid smell of vomit hung in the air around her. As soon as she was done she was lowered gently backwards, her back hitting the mattress with a soft thud. A soft groan rumbled in her throat, though it came out garbled and raw as her vocal chords had been abused beyond their limits; she must have screamed quite a bit to reach this point.

"There's blood in this too, but not nearly as much as last time she woke." Loveday's voice seemed to break, catching at the end of her sentence, and, although Maria's vision was still blurry, her Aunt turned away, tears running down her pale face. Guilt welled up in Maria's chest, tears trying to fall from her own eyes, but her body refused the action. A small, dry sob fell from Maria's lips and was echoed by her aunt. Her uncle's form came into view and he ushered her aunt away, the door opening with a click as he led her through, seeming to stop and turn to the third person in the room.

"I will look after her, Sir Benjamin." The voice was solemn, but deep, and Maria felt calmed by the evenness of the man's tone. She could see her Uncle's shape tilt its head, in deference to the other man and what she could only suppose was thanks. She lifted her hand, the tremors of before causing it to shake uncontrollably, though not in a frantic way, and she motioned to the other man. She couldn't make him out as well, for the shadows of his part of the room skewed her perception of him the most, but he seemed to be following her inquiry and request. In moments a large hand, the one from before that had held her hair back from her face as she retched, helped her sit up as it rested between her shoulder blades and pushed her up to a semi-vertical position. Another hand brought a glass to her lips, tilting it so that the cold liquid passed through her lips and down her throat. Relief, gratitude, and weariness; she felt them all as she silently drank the proffered liquid, ignoring, for the moment, that she had no idea who this man was. The idea that it might be Robin passed quickly, as he had other things to attend to than a childhood friend and longtime neighbor, and she was at least to able to surmise that he was more than likely the doctor her Uncle had called to take care of her.

The last vestiges of the liquid emptied down her throat, coating it with moisture and relieving some of the dryness and pain, and she motioned for more. The man complied, helping her stabilize herself by propping her up with several pillows and pulling her backwards so that her back could rest comfortably against the pillows and the headboard. Her vision began to clear as the sound of water pouring into a glass was the only sound other than the small fire in her fireplace and both of the room's occupants breathing. Blinking rapidly, she tried to focus her vision, furrowing her brow in concentration before the hand from before handed her the glass, staying to help her steady her grip and bring it to her lips once more.

"Drink this one a little slower; your body might reject it if you continue to drink so quickly." The Doctor, which she had decided to call him until his true identity was revealed to her, was professionally close, but still so familiar it made a small blush rise to Maria's cheeks. She nodded her agreement, slowly sipping on the water as per his request and determined not to look directly at him while he seemed so intent on focusing all of his attention onto her.

"You seem a bit flush, Miss Merryweather. Shall I douse the fire?" Maria colored again, shaking her head slightly as the glass was emptied of its contents once more and lightly taken away. She didn't gesture for more, already having drunk enough to sate her thirst and help her raw throat heal, if only temporarily.

"I am fine, sir. Though, I would ask something of you." Her voice seemed small and was hoarse from lack of proper use and, from what her Aunt had relayed earlier, insistent bouts of screaming.

"That's good to hear, Miss Merryweather. What, pray tell, may I be able to assist you in? Are you perhaps wondering why I am here and who I might be?" The baritone seemed to deepen and Maria ignored how oddly perfect his voice sounded; how familiar it was.

"You are correct, sir. I understand that my Uncle Benjamin seems to trust you, and so I am not suspicious, since he does not trust easily and gets along with few people. Thus, this makes you a very important person, if not a Doctor called in for my welfare, then a trusted friend with some medical knowledge. Although, if the latter were the case, I would wonder at our lack of a chaperone and the sanity of my Uncle, for he is one to always obey propriety….when it comes to my welfare, at the very least." It was if she became a fountain, spouting word after word in her abused voice, her query never ending until she could see a hand help up in a calming gesture, stopping the flow of words from her mouth.

"I am, perhaps, someone you appear to be familiar with, as you have been saying my name repeatedly throughout your nightmares. You seem to believe that I am some sort of beast that has entrapped you and enamored you to myself. I promise, I am neither of those things, though I would hope that you would be enamored with me; our position in life being in need of such feelings." Maria could feel her face pale as her vision cleared, the last of the haze vanishing so that she could see the man sitting to the right of her bed. He was tall, at the very least two meters or relatively close, as he was sitting down hunched over towards her, with slicked back hair that looked so soft she'd almost reached out to touch it. Then there were his eyes, which weren't a strange color like gold, but they were startling all the same, and she could not tell if they were blue or hazel or green. His face was long, with startling cheekbones, and he seemed to be worrying his brow at her study of him, as if he didn't know that she hadn't been able to see him earlier.

"Our position in life, sir…what do you mean? Please, speak plainly. I am not in a state to talk in circles." Maria swallowed, nearly asking for another glass of water, if only to give herself a reason to not speak to the man sitting next to her. He leaned forward in the chair, his tense position of before dropping as he hunched even more, his elbows dropping to his knees and his hands balancing his face in between the pair of them. His fingers moved to cover his face, his eyes disappearing behind eyelids and his pale digits. Her heart ached, suddenly, and without proper reason, at the sight of him looking so defeated, her ears duly noting that a small sob had escaped his lips. With some difficulty, she managed to bring herself forward, propelling herself into a position that gave her the ability to place a placating hand on his shoulder. He stiffened under her touch and Maria withdrew quickly, her arm that was holding her up shaking and weakening, slipping out from under her so that she fell face first into the mattress.

"Oh bollocks!" She hit the mattress hard and colored immediately at the use of an expletive that she swore she'd quit saying after boarding school. She barely registered the soft laughter until her mystery man joined her on the bed, his knee balancing him as he pulled her up and into his arms, which she easily relaxed into. She knew she should be mortified, at how easily she could act improperly in front of this man and trust him to take care of her and not mean her harm, but she couldn't bring herself to mistrust him. No, the sense of familiarity had returned and she felt safe and warm, like she had when her Uncle had placed his hand on her own. It was different, though, with this man; there was a strange, intimate trust that she had with him, and she was quite sure she only had one Uncle left, not two.

"Please, tell me who you are." She requested, looking up, into his eyes as he pulled her backwards, gently positioning her against the headboard once more, instead of against his warm chest. His responding smile was gentle and understanding, though she could see that it pained him that she could not fathom who he was.

"Miss Merryweather…" Here he paused, dipping his head to place a sweet kiss upon her forehead, seeming to not be able to hold back a moment longer. He quickly turned away and strode across the room, his hands finding purchase in their link behind his back as he clasped them. She could see he regretted his loss of self control, but she could not find it in herself to scold him for his improper actions; she chose to blame this on the fact that she had only just recently woken from a severe fever and not from the fact that she had thoroughly liked his plush lips upon her forehead.

"Sir?" He had been still for several seconds and she was anxious, suddenly, to know his full title and the name that she had apparently been repeating through her fitful sleep, which she barely remembered.

"Miss Merryweather—no….Maria," He turned to her and a shiver ran down her spine at the use of her Christian name in his deep baritone, "I am not a doctor, nor am I particularly a friend of your Uncle's, though one day I would wish for that to happen. I would be glad to be as a part of your family as you have been a part of mine." He paused, his eyes seeming to glow as he stood in the shadows of the room, away from the fire and away from her. She resisted the urge to stretch her hand out towards him, instead her hands grasping at the bed sheets once more instead of him.

"Who are you, that you are so familiar?" At this question, he moved forward, the fire reflecting in his eyes making them seem to glow like the monster in her dream's had.

"I am Christopher Rochester, Maria." She felt herself visibly pale.

"Rochester?"

"Yes, Maria….and you, you are Maria Rochester….my wife." Darkness surrounded Maria and she was consumed by it as she fainted.

"Mar-…..wake….Maria…my darling….Maria…-ake…up….Maria, please!" Maria bolted upright, into Loveday's arms, which instantly wrapped around her and squeezed her tight.

"Oh thank goodness, Christopher had feared that you'd fallen back into a fever dream. He was beside himself with worry. Your Uncle has been unreasonable since he'd run down the stairs in a panic. Once he'd told us what had happened your Uncle had nearly strangled him at upsetting you. You should have seen him, my dear, he yelled "Cat's teeth!' and lunged at the poor man." Loveday's voice was soft, but teasing, and Maria felt color rise to her cheeks and a small smile lift the corners of her mouth. She knew she had reacted poorly to her, apparent, husband's breaking of the news, but she couldn't, for the life of her, remember marrying him. In fact, she could barely remember the past few months, if she were honest with herself. Her blush deepened as the idea that she was married to a relatively handsome man, who seemed to care about her a great deal, yet could not remember marrying him or anything about him was mortifying.

"Oh Maria, what is wrong? Are you feeling ill again? Christopher said the fever broke and hopefully you wouldn't feel too ill after you awoke, but he also mentioned that he was a very poor excuse for a doctor. Which, if Doctor Woodhouse has anything to say about it, is modest of him, but if he feels inadequate, it's understandable. He does not wish to risk your health…oh look at me, rambling on. My dear, what is it?" Maria smiled brightly at her Aunt, having missed her spirit while being plagued by nightmares, and she couldn't help but laugh at how excited her Aunt was to tell her of her husband.

"I assume you approve of him, then?" Maria giggled, unable to control a sly smirk, which more than likely came off as a grimace, and resisted the dizzy feeling that followed. She felt better than before, after a small amount of dreamless sleep, but the feeling that she was better hit her in small waves. She could feel her strength returning, the shakiness of before lessening and her Aunt's warmth surrounding her, chasing away the panic and fearful feelings that she had woken with.

"I do, indeed. He hasn't left your side for the fortnight you've been suffering. He reminds me of someone we both know." At this Loveday smiled brightly, her eyes twinkling mischievously as Maria's jaw dropped in shock before clamping a hand over her mouth and laughing raucously, Loveday joining in, although she sounded like she was cackling. A knock on the door interrupted them and Maria pulled her covers around her, even as Loveday gathered her closer, allowing Maria's head to fall onto her right shoulder.

"Come in!" Loveday's voice betrayed her smile, which Maria was sure was just as playful as her earlier words had been, and she smiled into her Aunt's shoulder, her hair falling over her own shoulder and shrouding their latest addition from her vision. Loveday quieted, but Maria felt her relax, and for a millisecond she thought that maybe Rochester had come to see her. An odd, excited feeling crept up in her, and, although she could not remember the man as well as she would like to and fervently wished to, she had hoped to talk with him more until her memory returned.

The bed dipped behind her and for a second she thought it was maybe her Uncle Benjamin, instead. Edward would probably be banned from her room for a while, if her Uncle had anything to say about it. Perhaps Loveday could introduce him to a few secret tunnels to come visit her? Or maybe, if she regained her strength as quickly as she felt she was, she would be able to visit him.

"Is she asleep?" A cold chill ran through her and Maria stiffened. That was neither her husband's, nor her Uncle's voice. It was someone else's entirely; someone who she had wished to never see again if she could manage it.

"I don't believe so, but that doesn't mean she's not tired. Robin, why don't you go downstairs and we'll talk for a bit and let Maria rest? You've just got in and-."

"No, I'd like to talk to her, please. I know she's awake. Aren't you Princess?"

"Robin-!"

"Don't call me that you vile snake!" A startling fit of rage hit Maria like a ton of bricks and she quickly snapped her head up to face Robin, her eyes flashing with the hatred she had bottled up from years ago. She had never forgiven him, would never forgive him, for playing her for a fool. Robin startled back, looking almost the same as she had last seen him; a picture of youth and a gentleman of the De Noir family. She felt something rise in her, something she hadn't felt since before they sent her to her studies in a London boarding school. It was, as it had been a long time ago when she was young and she had saved the valley from the falling of the Moon, and she clenched her fists and looked away from him.

"Maria, please-!" Loveday sounded heartbroken, but Maria couldn't, wouldn't let go of what he'd done. She knew Loveday loved her brother with all her heart, but Maria could not stand him after he'd let her down for the last time. Her magic gripped at her again and she let go of Loveday, pushing herself out of the bed and away from the two De Noir children in the room. She swayed, but found her feet and began to stalk away, her eyes shut tight in concentration.

'Christopher. Christopher. Christopher. Christopher. Or even Uncle Benjamin. Christopher. Christopher…' She repeated like a mantra in her mind, her nails digging into her skin.

"Maria!" The two chorused and she felt bile rise in her throat as she felt the nearness of Robin as he reached out to steady her. With a small cry of disgust she stumbled backwards, finding herself pressed against a body instead of a wall.

"Maria? Did you…call for me?" An overwhelming surge of fondness and gratitude seemed to bubble up from inside her and she turned in Christopher's arms as he spoke and pulled his face down to hers, his plush lips meeting hers in a kiss the sent a shock through her entire system and curled her toes. A flood of memories flew through her mind, appearing as a play would; her own play that only she was privy to. She gasped into the kiss and she felt Christopher deepen it, their tongues meeting for a moment before loud clearing of the throat was heard. They pulled back as if they had just been caught in the act of a crime and, although she was loathe to look away from him, Maria remembered to blush and chose to see his reaction through the veil of her eyelashes.

"You will excuse me if I am rude, but I fear we have not met and, if I may be so bold, might inquire as to why you are snogging my friend?" Robin's voice held a tone that Maria nearly smacked him for, but instead rounded on him, putting herself in front of Edward like a shield from her former friend's presence.

"Indeed, you may not inquire as to why I am kissing my wife. You may not be so bold as to presume what you are presuming, and I do not believe I could stoop low enough to chance you a bow. You have upset my wife, forced her from her sickbed, and offended not only me, but propriety for propriety's sake. My wife is not dressed to see any other male company than that of my own or her immediate family that she wishes to see. I will, however, introduce myself, even though it is not necessarily a formality that I would wish to endure." A small shiver ran down Maria's spine as Christopher's arm curled around her, pulling her to him so as to shield her from Robin. Her magic thrummed against him as he spoke, her eyes slowly falling closed as the warmth and protection that she had felt with her Aunt increased ten-fold with her husband.

She had no idea what had gotten into her, but between whenever she had woken up and learned of his being married to her, an overwhelming familiarity had encompassed her. She felt as though she was once blind, but was regaining her sight by his mere presence. Being around him was a comfort, of this she was certain, and she wished never to be parted from him. The incessant urge to remember him, to remember all that they had done together, how they'd met, their first passionate kiss, welled up inside of her and she couldn't stop her magic from wrapping around him. It had been so long since she'd even felt it, the magic that her ancestor's Moon Princesses had been born with, and it was hard for her to control. Returning home, sick or not, with this man beside her, raging at Robin for his presuming that he could waltz into her bedchamber and be forgiven, ignoring the fact that he was a married man who hadn't asked her permission to be let in, made her feel alive. She had been so alone after Robin had abandoned her, she hadn't even written to her Uncle about it; Robin would have been dead if Uncle Benjamin had known and even Coeur De Noir would have strangled him.

"—I am Sir Christopher Edward-Eaton Rochester, once Captain of the Queen's Guard and I will beg you to please leave my wife alone. She does not, apparently wish for your company!" Loveday seemed in awe of Christopher's rage, as his voice seemed to deepen in anger and his arms grew ever tighter around her, pressing her as close to him as humanly possible. She could feel every centimeter of him as he held her and she let out a deep breath as his body heat encompassed her and filled her with a foreign pull that made her want to be as connected to him as possible. She refrained from blushing at the thought.

"Excuse me-!"

"Robin!" Loveday cut him off, grabbing his arm and pulling him from the room as he was about to argue, sending Maria an apologetic glance and what Maria could interpret as a thankful one to Christopher. He lowered his head in understanding to her before focusing all of his attention on Maria as the door shut.

"Maria, my love?" Maria looked up to him, his eyes catching in what little sunlight there was left in the day. Had she really slept for most of it?

"Christopher." She replied simply, her knees growing weak at the look of pure adoration in his eyes. She could feel heat pooling at the pit of her stomach from just his voice and she felt herself get wet at the heat in his gaze. She suddenly felt a renewed sense of being and her former illness seemed to fade in the back of her mind. It could all wait, as far as she was concerned.

"Do you remember me?" His voice was so soft, yet she could hear the hope, and she reminded herself that her body's reaction to him was that of familiarity and that she didn't quite know him yet. She wanted to remember him, to show him that she loved him just as her loved her and then prove it like they would have on their wedding night.

"I remember some of you….and I am enamored with just this little part of you. I want to know you, all of you, and I want to be with you, fully….but there's only small glimpses and a great feeling of familiarity that I have with you. I want you, all of you…" She paused, looking away, fearing that he might take the news poorly. His warm, soft hand cupped her cheek and slowly turned her head so that she would look up at him.

"You will be, when you are ready and I will…continue to love you and take care of you for the rest of your days, whether you love me the same way or not." With that, he bent to kiss her forehead, much as he had done earlier, before guiding her back to her bed.

Laying down in her bed, Maria, with the help of Christopher, pulled the covers over her, and he sat down at the edge so that he could stroke her hair lovingly and watch over her. With a small, contented sigh, Maria closed her eyes, allowing herself to let lose some of her magic and wrap it protectively around her husband. She felt Christopher relax and he seemed to hesitate before moving to stand, his hand leaving her forehead as he did so. With what little energy she had left, Maria grasped his hand and pulled at it enough to garner his attention.

"Christopher?"

"Yes, my love?" She smiled sleepily at his constant use of the phrase, finding nothing but warmth in it.

"Stay with me?...Sleep with me?" She opened her eyes, finding the evident shock in his expression before he brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

"Always, my dear. I will always stay with you." With those words he released her hand gently and began to undress. Maria closed her eyes unintentionally, but the weight of sleep pulled her eyelids ever so close to being fully closed and she could not fight it for very long. The last thing she felt before sleep overtook her was a warm body climbing into the bed next to her and a pair of strong arms wrapping around her…

A/N: Well, that took me long enough. It's been super hard to figure out how to write this chapter. I think I've started over about a million times. Hopefully you've enjoyed it thus far. In the next I'll actually explain what Robin has done to Maria and why she loathes him so much, along with maybe some actual smut.

Maybe.

Thanks for reading and thanks for sticking with me! Please review kindly if you do at all!

-Wildespeaks