A Moonacre Fanfiction Roman Holiday

"Ready?" Anton asked Maria. "Ready!" she affirmed. They were seated upon a small boat so narrow that it just barely fit the two of them. Anton and Maria were the first to rent their boat; she could see Robin and Francesca still waiting for the boy to fetch them their vehicle. Maria waved cheerily to Robin, who gave a half-hearted smile back. Why was Robin being so depressive? He wasn't usually like this. And he really ought to behave better, since he was entertaining a lady.

Anton pushed them away from the dock with a smooth shove. Maria could easily discern that he had been boating many, many times. He began to paddle with the double-sided oar, methodical and confident. Soon they were floating out away from the beach.

From the café, Maria and her party had taken two carriages to the Santa Marinella beach. Rome itself was not on the coast, but it was not very far. Sir Benjamin hired the best coaches and the company was far from disagreeable, so the moderately lengthy ride was quite pleasant; for Maria, that is. Robin did not enjoy himself, for reasons which I am sure you can divine.

And now Maria breathed in the balmy Mediterranean air tinged with salt, trailing her fingers through the clear turquoise waters. Further out to sea, she could glimpse foamy whitecaps rising above the water and sinking below again, like wild, untamed white horses. She smiled, remembering the white horse who had led her to resolve the feud of Moonacre.

Her eyes flitted back to the beach, where Robin still stood upon the glittering pearly sand. Then she realized that he was looking at her. She blushed, but couldn't tear her eyes away. He gazed, mesmerized, until he felt something thud lightly upon his hat. Maria giggled just as a very relieved seagull bustled over Robin's head. Robin frowned and shook the bird droppings from off his hat, but when he turned back, Maria had looked away.

"So," Anton began, resting his arms for a moment, "Have you been to a beach before?" Maria shook her head, looking round about her. "No; I am so glad to finally go boating! Well, I suppose I have been to a sort of a beach. At my home, Moonacre, we overlook an inlet of the Atlantic; but we don't own boats, and I've only been swimming a few times." She didn't mention that those times consisted of a sacrifice leap into the water to save her family, and of an impromptu dip with Robin.

"Ah," Anton understood. "Well, what do you think of our little Mediterranean?" Maria closed her eyes and felt the cool breeze against her face. "Mm. I love it," she declared, opening her eyes once again. "How lucky you are to live here!" Anton shrugged. "One grows used to it. I am sure I would like your Moonacre very well. It is more in the country?" Maria nodded. "Very. We are quite full of the countryside at Moonacre Manor. But it is not as rural or secluded as one would think; we have a town nearby, and of course the De Noir village."

Here Anton was confused. "I beg your pardon; I do not understand. I thought Robin lived with you." Maria's cheeks grew warm despite the fresh zephyrs. "Oh, no," she was quick to disagree. "I live in Moonacre Manor with Uncle Benjamin, my tutor Miss Heliotrope, and Digweed. He is our butler. Digweed, that is." Anton's brow furrowed slightly, and Maria could see what he was thinking. Usually higher class tutors did not have intimate relations with butlers. But Anton was enough of a gentleman to say nothing, so Maria continued.

"Robin, Robin De Noir, he lives in De Noir village. His father, who is boating with your father Pastor Russo, is Coeur De Noir and is head of De Noir village." Anton grinned. "I know, it's confusing," Maria admitted, "But it's probably the way I'm explaining it that confuses you so. It's not that difficult, really." Anton began to row again. "I think I understand." He said, dipping the oars effortlessly into the sea. "So you are not related to Robin at all?" She shook her head, eyes growing distant. "Not at all." Anton nodded in full comprehension. "Just friends, then." He said. "Just friends," she echoed.

On the other boat, Robin was having a somewhat trying time with Francesca. "I declare, you must go boating all the time!" she exclaimed, "For never have I seen anyone handle an oar with such self-assurance." Robin wondered which he preferred: the potent floral perfume Francesca wore heavily or the remains of the bird droppings on his hat. Probably the bird droppings. "I've never been boating before," he said, finding it difficult not to look for Maria's boat. "Well then, you surely are a wonder! I say, do you have any brothers?" Robin shook his head absentmindedly. "Just Loveday," Francesca tittered. "Oh, I wouldn't say she's a brother, Robin dear. Sisters are all quite nice (I'm one of them, you know), but then I suppose you stand to inherit your father's estate." Robin was troubled by this transition to 'Robin dear'. If she started to call him 'Bird Boy', this boat very well might be losing some jetsam soon.

But now he had to answer her. "Uh, it's not really an estate," he said carefully. She looked disappointed. "Oh? What is it, then?" Robin shrugged. "Kind of a village." Francesca clapped a hand over her heart as though she was having a heart attack. No, Robin decided cynically, he wasn't that lucky. "Your father owns a village?" Robin channeled his negative energy into paddling. The oar blurred. "He does."

Francesca suddenly became very attentive of her appearance, more so than usual. She primped her dark curls and batted her dark eyelashes and made her dark eyes oh so big. "I have always wanted to travel to England," she said significantly. Her meaning was not lost on Robin, but he was certainly not going to invite her to Moonacre. "Would you now? I've always wanted to move to Siberia." Francesca wasn't going to let her ignorance on the topic of Siberia obstruct her way. "So have I," she agreed heartily. "It's so…so beautiful there."

Robin frowned. "Did I say Siberia? I meant Timbuktu." Obviously Francesca wasn't very well versed in geography. She smiled dazzlingly. "Oh, I just adore Timbuktu. We've been twice." Robin played along. "While you were there, did you see the Blarney Stone?" she hesitated. "N—no, I don't think so. We didn't have time." Robin nodded. "But surely you went to see the paintings at the Louvre." Francesca laughed. "Oh, of course. We wouldn't miss that for the world!" Apparently Francesca had missed a great deal of her world lessons. Robin pursed his lips. "I figured as much."

Meanwhile, Maria was chatting gaily with Anton. Their conversation had settled on Shakespeare, and Anton had recited the lines in which the great playwright says, 'What a piece of work is man! how noble in reason! how infinite in faculty! in form and moving how express and admirable! in action how like an angel! in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the world, the paragon of animals!' This profound statement from Hamlet Anton was analyzing and contrasting to the truth that he knew: that man is indeed a sinful creature and in need of salvation. Maria sat in awe of her companion's deep thoughts and philosophical opinions. She had never met a person like Anton in her entire life. But she could not ignore, however, the merry voices that drifted over the water from Robin's boat. She half hoped he was enjoying himself with Francesca. But the other half of her hoped he was not enjoying himself too much.

A/N: Beloved reader,

Thank you so much for reading my story so far! I am grateful for all of your reviews, and I assure you that I am quite dedicated to this story and have no ill-conceived notion of abandoning it. I know this can be a matter of great disappointment among fanfiction readers (I know that I myself have been disillusioned my fair share) and I am eager to comfort you in that regard. Forgive me if my updates are rather slow; writing is a process, as I'm sure you know all too well. Thanks again!

Your devoted,

Ponygirl7