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[lalla0019]

DAY 4: Nature's Fury

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For @incorrect-quotes-of-moonacre with Deep love and appreciation for all you've done and continue to do for the fandom

Fairytales are some of the most important works of fiction known to man. While commonly disregarded, overly saturated, and disney-fied, Fairy tales provide the basis for understanding human history. The examination of politics, religions, culture, and a singular thread that pulls nations together. For if one fairy tale was told in Europe, rest assured that many other cultures would have shared similar fables, even if they had never told their stories to the other. Warnings for children, for emperors and kings, the very basis for literature itself, the fairy tale is not something easily overlooked, but is the base of modern community. After all, what brings humanity closer together than rooting for the common goal? Of good rising above evil, true love, and a bit of magic to pull it all together. 

*

Maria wove between the rows, holding a red apple in her hand. Perhaps a bit over dramatic, but she wanted it to serve her point. “We have many reasons to thank fairytales, for the symbolism they offer, the lessons. For this reason-” Maria paused before her desk, tossing the apple into the air before catching it. “I would like you to write your own fairy tale.” Que groans. Maria smiled. “I want this to include several things, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves and write everything. Some stories offer political critique, others warnings; I want something unique. You may borrow ideas, such as sleep curses, but please do your absolute best to be original. Grades will be based on creativity, the substances of the story itself, hidden themes, and of course grammar and other such English nonsense.” 

There was a spatter of laughter from some of her favourite students. 

“The assignment is due Friday and your time starts-” Maria shook her wrist until her watch faced up. “Now.” 

There was the flutter of paper and hushed voices as ideas were spread around, or quiet worry at the idea of having to write something for English. The horror. 

Maria tossed the apple one last time before rounding her desk and taking a seat. 

*

At three on the dot, Maria opened the door to her class, unleashing her students upon the world, watching them run free as the school day came to an end. At the same time, across the hall, Mr. De Noir’s classroom door flung open, and his students made hers appear as well mannered and polite little angels.

Mr. De Noir leaned in the doorway, his arms crossed as he sent a smirk her way. “Miss Merryweather.” 

Maria lifted a brow. Why her uncle had even hired him on the staff she would never understand. He was hardly a respectable teacher, half the time she had to send a student across the hall to tell his to settle down, and he was never dressed up to code. 

Kitten heels, a pencil skirt that hit right above her knees, and a blouse, Maria at least appeared professional. She couldn’t remember the last time she had thought ‘oh yes, let me don jeans to go to work, that’s appropriate,’ and yet there he was. Rumpled denims, a wrinkled button up that wasn’t tucked in, even his sleeves were pushed up to his elbows. 

The students adored him, and yes he had amazing recommendations, and credentials, but that did not mean he was Moonacre material. She just knew the old headmistress, Jane Heliotrope, would never have put up with his misconduct. 

“Did you start them on their assignment today?” Maria asked cordially, because someone had to be looking out for the students. 

“What? The fairy tale stuff?” He nearly scoffed. “Yeah, we’re saving that as a free write on Friday.”

Maria’s jaw dropped, “Wha- what do you mean by that? You’re completely disregarding the curriculum?” 

He gave her a laugh, “Oh, c’mon, you know that’s a guide more than anything.”

“Right.” Maria crossed her arms, “And I bet you aren’t having any kind of lesson gearing up to Friday? About the cultural and historic importance fairytales have on society and literature?” 

His smirk deepened, “Nope.”

“So what on earth did you teach them on? If you were able to teach them anything?” Maria asked. 

“The importance of communal and oral traditions. Then we discussed.”

Maria rolled her eyes, because ‘discuss’ was just his excuse to let the class go wild. “That sounds more like a history lesson.”

He shrugged, “History and literature, unfortunately, overlap.” 

Maria bit her tongue and glared, “Right. And you refused to teach on fairy tales because…?”

“Because, Princess, fairy tales have a different kind of connotation nowadays.”

Maria bristled at the nickname. It had started when he had learned the headmaster was her Uncle…

Well, it wasn’t particularly hard to guess that they were related, due to their last names being the same, but he assumed that she had been a legacy hire when that couldn’t be farther from the truth! In fact, she had been hired by Ms. Heliotrope a year before her retirement and Benjamin’s promotion. 

“But that is the exact reason we're supposed to be teaching on them! To disrupt their previous notions!” Maria flung her arms out to further make her point, but she knew she was just getting more and more frustrated, while he kept smirking at her. 

“And that’s why we slowly work up to calling them fairy tales, so by the end of the week, they have a full grasp and understanding of what a fairytale is beyond the Disneyfication.” He clapped his hands together, “Right, I have a long week ahead, and you, I’m guessing have some studying to do? Since you’re not doing any work to mould the curriculum to your class so they can reap the most of it.” 

He turned, the door to his class shut before she could get another jab in. But she stood in the hall, slightly impressed, but mostly irritated. Her thoughts wandered to her Uncle, but telling on a fellow teacher was childish, and she could handle him herself. 

*

“But I knew it was him! His thoughts and ideas getting into their heads.” Maria complained, her eyes narrowed and arms crossed, she hunched over herself on the garden bench sitting outside her Uncle’s home. 

Benjamin had never bothered with the upkeep of his garden, he had simply just let it grow wild over the years, but that summer, he had taken an odd interest in it. Removing all the weeds and ploughing the dirt, he replanted the areas that had once been overgrown grass with growing thyme, and the garden beds with geraniums, of all colours, but primarily salmon pink. 

It was better than his other hobbies: sulking or drinking. 

“That’s not appropriate,” Benjamin said, removing a dirtied glove from his hand. 

“No, it’s annoying.” Maria rolled her eyes. “And I have no idea when he did it! I mean, we were barely speaking yesterday about the curriculum, and today I hear my students talking about how the ideas of fairy tales have been corrupted by modern understanding and Disneyfied! Those are the exact words he used! Can you believe it? I mean, opening his office hours to my students in some lame attempt to contradict what I’ve already taught them.” 

“Well, I can’t let him scalp your students.” 

Maria rolled her eyes, “It doesn’t matter, I’ll tell him off tomorrow morning and we’ll just have to go from there.” Maria reached over and picked a globe of geraniums before tucking it behind her Uncle’s ear. “So pretty.”

He gave her a glare, but over the years it had lost any ferocity it once held. 

*

Maria stood in front of the kettle, waiting for it to go off, her cup all but ready with her tea bag, when a dark presence slid next to her. 

“I knew you just couldn’t resist.” 

Maria breathed out deeply, calmly, as in the corner of her eye Mr. De Noir leaned against the counter next to her. “Resist what?”

“Using your nepo baby powers to get me in trouble, are you disappointed I didn’t get sacked?”

Maria sighed, lifting the kettle as the light went from green to red, and poured her steaming water into her cup. “Mr. De Noir, I have no idea-”

“My office hours got taken from me.” 

Maria paused, but finished pouring and refilled the kettle. She stuck a fist on her hip and turned to look at him. “What? But I didn’t-”

“And I’ve been placed over the after school detention for the next two weeks-”

“But I didn’t-!”

“And Saturday!” He didn’t glare at her, no he would never, but where he was usually teasing and lighthearted, he seemed genuinely upset with her. 

And then it hit her. 

It was her fault. 

She placed a hand over her mouth. 

Benjamin. 

“Oh, now she remembers.” He looked away from her, discontentedly, into the empty teacher’s lounge. “Y’know, my students make good use of those hours, and unlike you, I have plans on the weekends.” 

“You don’t know what I do after school.” She muttered, her first reaction to defend herself. “Mr. De Noir, I- I didn’t- I’ll fix this, I promise, and until then, tell your students they may come to me during my office hours.”

Mr. De Noir gave her an odd look as he examined her face. 

“What?”

“I- you seem genuinely concerned.” He said. 

Maria rolled her eyes, “Yes, well when I was complaining to my Uncle I thought I was complaining to my Uncle, not Headmaster Merryweather.” She glared, crossing her arms. Goodness, how would she even broach this? She supposed she’d have to schedule a meeting, and go from there-

“Merryweather? Don’t go catatonic on me.” 

Maria broke out of her thoughts and gazed up at Mr. De Noir, she reached out to touch his shoulder, and in all sincerity said, “I will fix this.” 

He cracked a grin, “Don’t need to get all noble on me, Merryweather, it’s just two weeks. And technically I deserve it.”

“It isn’t bad for students to get multiple perspectives… sometimes.” 

He shrugged, and Maria realised she still had her hand on her arm. She snatched it away, her cheeks suddenly feeling warm, before Mr. De Noir reached out and handed her cup to her. 

“From my understanding, Merryweather’s are pretty stubborn, so good luck getting him to change his mind.” Then, he turned and left her alone in the teacher’s lounge, with a swiftly cooling cup of tea. 

She added some sugar cubes, and sped walked her way to her Uncle’s secretary, demanding to speak with him during her open hour. 

*

After an hour, Maria closed her office. 

A few of her students, and a few of Mr. De Noir’s students, had come to speak briefly with her, but beyond a few simple questions about tropes and symbolism, there were no deep inquiries. She had on her coat, and her briefcase in her hand, but when she looked across the way into Mr. De Noir’s dark classroom, a twinge of remorse pinged in her heart. 

With a singular and sudden determination, Maria made her way to the detention hall, which was actually just the meal hall, but was used for detention at set times. 

When she walked in the hall, a bit too proudly, the door swung out and banged against the wall, the sound of it echoing across the empty room and eight heads turned her way. Even Mr. De Noir, who had been sitting on top of one of the tables, slouching as much as he could while not lying on it, popped up at her entrance. 

Maria did her best not to let embarrassment wash over and kept her confidence as she came in, set her bag down on the floor, removed her coat, and joined Mr. De Noir on the table. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked, looking up at her with a strange mix of reverence and bafflement. 

Maria shrugged, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I couldn’t convince my Uncle to let you go.” 

He huffed a laugh. “Told you.” 

Maria nudged his knee with hers. 

“Okay, so message received?” 

“It’s a bit boring, isn’t it?” 

Robin scoffed, finally pulling himself up off the table and leaning onto his knees. “Yes, for me, who's trapped here, but not for you.”

Maria checked her watch, “Only forty-five minutes left?” 

He grabbed her elbow and pulled her arm towards his face. “Just about.” 

“Well, I’d like to discuss our- differing takes on the curriculum with you.” She cleared her throat. “To give our students the best chance they have with their learning opportunities.” 

He quirked a brow. 

“Well, for example, you say Disneyfied like it's a bad thing.”

“Because it is.” 

Maria shook her head, “But would you not agree that all fairytales and myths evolved with the times, the elements changing with what was needed?”

A slow smile breached his features. “One could say that.”

“And, well, perhaps what the children of our time need is something a bit more hopeful than what original fairy tales tend to offer?”

“Or, we need to stop babying children, and let them watch things that will actually be beneficial to their mental development.” 

They continued on that way for a time, the argument never actually turning to be about their lesson plans, and even after Mr. De Noir dismissed the students, they continued on until they reached the parking lot. 

“I’m sorry again,” Maria said, knowing it was time to part but not really wanting to. “About the whole detention business, I never intended that.”

Mr. De Noir shrugged nonchalance, “It’s alright, I’ll just get you back.”

Maria twisted her lips to avoid smiling. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll be the one across the hall.”

*

There was very little one could do about rumours, and once they did get started, there was not much one could do beyond fan the flames. 

It was rather unfortunate for both Miss Merryweather and Mr. De Noir that one of the students in detention was a girl who had a friend in Ms. Merryweather’s class, who had often made the very keen observation that there was a certain chemistry underlying their quips and hallway fights. 

So of course, as soon as Ms. Merryweather stormed detention, and stayed by Mr. De Noir’s side for the duration, it was only her right to text her friend the developing story. 

The next morning, before class had even begun, all of Ms. Merryweather’s waiting class knew about the circumstances, and even without speaking a word, seemed to be in unilateral agreement. 

*

“Mr. De Noir!”

Robin paused his instruction at the whiteboard, turning back to see one of Ms. Merryweather’s students hanging in the door. 

“Yeah, do you need something?”

“Um-” The girl squeaked, “Ms. Merryweather needed your help in the supplies room. She said something about heavy boxes?”

Robin played with the marker in his hand. That wasn’t the Merryweather he knew. That woman would break her back before asking for his, or anyone’s, help. He put the cap on. “Lex, you’re in charge.” 

There was some grumbling about that decision, but he ignored it as he came to the door, holding it open for the student before shutting it behind him. He watched, rather suspiciously, as she stood by Merryweather’s class but didn’t go inside. When she looked back over her shoulder, he lifted his brows, and she squeaked before ducking into class. Then, when he peered into the windows, each and every head, which had been turned to watch him, snapped back to the front. 

Robin smirked, he could smell a plot a mile away, but who was he to foil their brilliant schemes? 

He wasn’t too surprised to hear the door opening again once he reached the end of the hall, and he was careful not to look back at the sound. It almost made him giddy, and he wondered if this was just the distraction, to get him out of class so something could be done in the ten minutes he’d be gone? Or, if he was walking into the trap.

Ms. Merryweather, he had no doubt, hadn’t played any part of it, as she would never encourage this kind of behaviour. 

As Robin walked into the supply room, he saw no sign of Merryweather, but then there was a sound of surprise, a fluttering sound like a flock of frightened pigeons taking flight, and a louder  smacking that came from the paper closet. Robin turned, just in time to see Merryweather being clouded in stacks of paper as they fell to the ground. 

“Mr. De Noir!” She choked. 

He chuckled, moving in on her and kneeling to start collecting the papers on the ground. 

“You don’t have to-”

“No, don’t worry, I know it was my fault-”

“No! No, I was being-” 

And then the door slammed shut. 

“Oh my god, what did you do?” Merryweahter asked, immediately turning on him to accuse him. “I had the door propped-” 

“I didn’t do anything! It-” Then, Robin sighed. “It’s the students.” Robin stuck his hand in his pocket to pull his phone out, but his pocket was empty, in fact all of his pockets were empty, he would learn, as he uselessly patted at them. “Do you have your phone?”

“Um-” Merryweather made a vague gesture to the little table outside, where he had passed her keys and yes, now that he thought about it, her phone had been there as well. 

“So we’re stuck.” 

“Well- I-” Merryweather looked down at him. “Yes, I guess we are. Fuck.”

“Language, we’re at school.” Robin mocked as he went back to stacking the papers.

“Right, sorry.”Maria shook her head and knelt down next to him, gathering papers and replacing them in the box she had tipped over. 

“You ever learn how to take a joke?” 

Merryweather pursed her lips. “I can take a joke, when it's made between friends.” 

“Oh, that smarts.”

Merryweather looked at him and scoffed. 

“What?”

“Are you implying we’re friends?” 

“Of course not, I’m your mortal enemy.” 

Merryweather cocked a brow, “My mortal enemy? And I’m not yours?” 

Robin smirked. “You don’t get under my skin the way I get under yours.” 

“What am I then? If not your mortal enemy?” She said, with a slight challenging glare.

Robin pretended to give it great thought. “Academic rival?” 

“Oh good, I didn’t think I’d be held in such high regard to be considered a rival.” 

He snorted. 

She smiled. 

“So, when do you think they’ll let us out?” Robin whispered, after the papers were tidied, and they had taken to sitting on opposite sides of the closet, her legs stretched out before her, ankles crossed neatly. 

“Who?” Merryweather asked, leaning forward as she whispered back. Her plan had been sending out a sheet of paper with a note written on it under the door, their only hope being another teacher would pass through and free them. 

“Our students.” Robin cuffed his hand over his mouth. “They’re up to something.” 

She stared at him blankly. “What do you mean?” 

“One of your students came to my class saying you needed help.” 

Merryweather scoffed, “Surely you knew that was a lie.” 

 Robin nodded, “Of course, as soon as she said you wanted my help.”

Merryweather fought a smile, crossing her arms as she looked out to the door. “So why did you come?” 

“I encourage mischief every once in a while, besides I figured they had sent me away to do something to the classroom, not lock me in a closet with my academic rival.” He nudged his knee against her foot. 

“You should give them all detention, they basically got a free period out of us.” 

Robin shrugged, leaning his head back against the shelves. “Who knows? That might be a good thing.” 

It wasn’t until a few minutes before the bell rang that good old Henry came to let them out, an odd and slightly suspicious look on his face. 

*

“Now, I’m not mad, just disappointed.” Maria said, more or less quoting her Uncle. 

She had only been lightly reprimanded for being locked in the closet and abandoning her students, but Robin seemed to, once again, take the full brunt of the punishment, as Benjamin assigned him another week of detention watch. 

“However, as punishment, Mr. De Noir and I have decided to extend your projects.” Maria beamed as her students groaned, she knew just across the hall, Robin was giving the same speech, something they had planned together after Maria closed her office hours, and came to him with a proposition in detention. “We will no longer be only asking you for an original fairy tale, but would instead ask you to perform it in the amphitheatre before both classes.” 

There was a devilish look on her face as her class got uproarious, and she let them settle before she spoke again. “The deadline is now extended to next Friday, however tomorrow I would like a first draft turned in. You may form groups of two to five, choose one fairy tale, and work out the logistics.” 

“The fairy tale we wrote, or any fairy tale?”

“Your fairy tale, Marissa.” Maria smiled. “And since yesterday you all had a free period, today will be a lecture day-” More moaning, “-Please pull out your notebooks, and we’ll begin.” 

*

Saturday, the parking lot was nearly empty save his car. 

Maria parked not next to him, but close, as she popped out, her scarf wrapped warmly around her throat. This new plan was risky, but she felt she owed it to him. 

He would protest of course, and he would tell her to go away, but it didn’t sit right in her heart. So of course, when she marched into the detention hall, Robin looked up and rolled his eyes. He slid off the table, leaving his book behind and met her half way. 

“Here to plot against our students again?” 

“Nope.” Maria said, removing her scarf and wrapping it around her hands, “I’m here to free you.” 

Robin’s smirk softened, “You know I’m on the clock for this and you’re not?” 

“I’m working on grading this morning.” Maria held up her briefcase. “It's just a change of location.” 

Robin rolled his eyes, “You would work on a Saturday.” 

“Yes, and you said you had plans, so go on, go.” Maria attempted to walk him around before he reached out and grabbed her arm. 

“What are you doing, Maria?”

She smiled, “Rescuing the damsel.” 

“Dam- Now hold on there, Merryweather, if anyone’s the damsel it’s you.”

“Oh?” Maria popped her hip, “How so?” 

Robin opened his mouth to list off the countless examples that would mark him as the daring hero, but he rather came up empty. 

“You’re the one trapped in the tallest tower, not me.” 

“I am not trapped here.”

“Precisely, go on, I’m rescuing you, go on, leave. I have dragons to slay.” 

He scoffed. “I can’t, I’ll get in more trouble.” 

Maria shrugged, “I won’t tell Headmaster if you don’t.” 

Robin struggled not to smile. “I can’t.”

“You can and you will.”

“Y’know, usually it's the other way around, the handsome young hero saving the princess.” 

Maria shrugged, “I rather like Cupid and Psyche.”

Then, there was something about the way his eyes lit up at her words that made her heart flutter, her stomach pitch, and her mouth run dry. Had that been a mistake? To imply that they were- that she was doing this out of- 

“This isn’t fair.”

“It’s perfectly fair.” Maria argued, “I was in your debt, now I’m not.” 

He shook his head, “You’re going to get me in trouble.” 

“I thought you liked mischief.” 

Robin smiled, and before Maria could make another comment, he reached out and squeezed her arm. “I still feel like I owe you for this, but thank you.” 

She almost thought he was going to lean down and kiss her, her cheek, ot temple, or her lips, but he turned and went back to get his book and jacket. 

Maria watched him leave, the door shutting behind him, and then the empty air for a few seconds before she glanced at the students, who were doing their best to avoid her eye and trying to stifle grins. 

She cleared her throat and got to work reading the fairy tales. 

*

Monday morning, she attempted to speak with her Uncle again. 

“Really, he doesn’t deserve any of it, and I know you said that you had to set standards, but this is ridiculous! Not even the students get this much detention!” She had started sitting down, but at some point she had gotten up to pace madly to and fro. “I mean it’s not just a detriment to him, but his students! Though not many of his students have taken me up on my offer, they may not feel comfortable with it! And beyond that, there’s usually a very fair rotation for the detention slots, and I think it’s been a while since it was my turn! And the closet thing wasn’t his fault! He only came in to help me, it’s not like he did it on purpose, that’s hardly worth another week of detention!”

“Maria-”

“I would understand if he had locked me in there, but he was trapped just as much as I was!”

“Maria-”

“And we both settled on how to discipline the students who, I already told you, were the real culprits!”

“Maria!” 

Maria jumped, her hand on her heart the other grasping the back of the chair. “Yes?”

“If you would really like to, I can take over some of his detention-”

“Oh really? You will!” Maria raced around the desk, wrapping her arms around her Uncle’s head and neck. “Oh thank you! I felt so guilty about all of it!” 

“Right.” Her Uncle muttered. “Guilt.” 

*

Robin sat on his desk, laughing as one of the students shared a more or less irrelevant story with the class which kind of had to do with fairy tales, when Maria knocked on the door and came into class. 

“Mr. De Noir, do you have a moment?” She asked, and some of the students had the audacity to laugh or gently ‘oooh!’ at his departure. 

He followed Maria out into the hall, mindful to stand in front of her so his students couldn’t get a good look at her facial expressions through the window. 

“I believe my debts are paid.” Maria beamed, “Mostly.” 

Robin cocked his head to one said. 

“I slayed the beast. Headmaster Merryweather said he would take over detention next week.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“What did you do- how did you-?” Robin cut himself off with a scoff, she was unbelievable. “Damn, I really was the damsel.”

“Language.” Maria’s eyes flashed to the window behind him, and when he took a look, the students ran away from the window and back to their seats. 

“You didn’t- You really didn’t-” He clenched his hand at his side, tempted to touch her again, tempted to wrap her in his arms and pick her up off the floor and spin her around. Instead, he marvelled at her, his eyes wide, his mouth open like an idiot, and he couldn’t look away. 

She blossomed under his gaze, her cheeks pinkening, her eyes glistening with pride. 

“You’re amazing.” 

*

Miss Merryweather kept Mr. De Noir company for the rest of his detention periods, the students noticed, and word spread very quickly. Some students, rather foolishly, got themselves in trouble so they would have to go to detention, so they could report back.

And it was very interesting how close they sat, and how often they gazed into each other's eyes without speaking, and how close they came to touching the other only to stop themselves before they got too close. 

The reports from detention made their way around, from student to student, until even the teachers heard, and placed their bets. 

“No, they’re both too stubborn,” Ms. Swann said, “Neither will admit to anything until it's unbearable.”

“Don’t underestimate Robin, he’s rather determined, and once he wants something that’s it.” Mr. Turner said. 

“But Maria has much more class than that.” Mrs. Fitzwilliam said. 

“That doesn’t mean she’ll deny herself the pleasure of a man’s company, especially one that looks like him.” Ms. Thomas suggested. 

And, inevitably, word got back to Headmaster Merryweather who was not completely unsurprised by the developments, after all he saw too much of himself in his niece. Falling in love with a supposed enemy was practically a family trait.

*

Maria sat down in the amphitheatre, her students settled and the first group ready to go, her rubric out on her clipboard, while Robin leaned back on the bench behind them, his own rubric off to the side as her students went first. They had a box of props and costumes for the students to use, and yes the girls did fight over who got to wear the pearls, and there was a massive disagreement on who got the sword with each group that came up. Whether or not the story had anything to do with swords. 

They watched each class file in, as they were instructed to come straight to the amphitheatre, and file out once they were done, though Robin and Maria hardly paid attention as they did. 

There was many a giggling, many a stare, and a many whispering that made their way across the classes, but Maria didn’t particularly care to take notice. 

She was too busy trying to ascertain if his knee pressed into her thigh was an accident or if he was doing it on purpose, and if his eyes were on her the whole day instead of any of the performances, and if he was arguing because he really disagreed with her or just for the sake of arguing. But when the final bell dismissed their last class, neither Robin nor Maria rose up to leave. They stayed, seated on the stone benches, her elbows on her knees, her chin in her hands as she stared up at him. 

There was something so captivating about his eyes when he spoke, something pleasant when his mouth moved, something enigmatic about how he motioned with his hands.  

“Tomorrow is your last day of detention.” Maria said, when an hour had passed and neither had moved. 

“Yes, and you don’t have to storm the castle for me.” Robin looked up at her as she stood to gather her things. “Hermes doesn’t have to tell me all the work you’ve done to make up for it.” 

She felt herself blush, because there it was again, this odd comparison. “Well, one could argue that my three dangerous tasks are complete.”

“Dangerous?” He grinned at the incredulous insinuation.

“Well, when one goes up against a man like my Uncle.” She twisted her face into one of horror and Robin laughed. “Though, I am afraid I will remain his servant forever.” 

“Yes, I suppose going up against him is quite daunting.” 

“Daunting indeed. But-” Maria bit her lip, turning away to look out at the amphitheatre. “Did I manage to fix the rift of my betrayal?” 

Robin stood and took her hand, “There was never anything to fix.”

If any students had stayed behind, they would have seen Mr. De Noir lean down to kiss Ms. Merryweather, and if any teachers had walked by on their way to the parking lot, they would have seen the two running off hand in hand like teenagers, and if Headmaster Merryweather had looked out the window of his office, he would have seen Mr. De Noir press Ms. Merryweather against her car as he kissed her again and again, but no did, and no one saw them getting into their cars and following each other out of the parking lot, and on Saturday, despite his best attempts, Ms. Merryweather came again, but she did not come to rescue him a second time. Rather, she sat with him, and if the students noticed they were sitting too close to one another, or that they held hands under the table, they kept their thoughts to themselves. 

*

Fairytales are some of the most important works of fiction known to man. They offer life lessons, human connection, magic, and some of our favourites: love. 

Not every fairy tale has a happily ever after, not every fairy tale ends with true love’s kiss, but who could argue that the most captivating ones have just a touch of that special magic? Not fairy godmothers, trickster sprites, or devils, but a very human emotion, a lasting emotion, one that resonates and rings throughout the centuries. 

@stabat-mater @theargopriestess @maybeamagpie @hotpotatoburn @lalla0019 @immergladsss

[lalla0019]

Moonacre week 2024

Day 2:Devil/Angel

[stabat-mater]

King Redbreast

For @incorrect-quotes-of-moonacre, for all the work you put into Moonacre Week every year. <3

“My lady. You have the most remarkable eyes.”

“My lady, no poet’s words could do your beauty justice.”

“My lady. May I say you look as radiant as the sun today…”

Princess Maria, who had notably inherited the title of Moon Princess from her uncle the King’s wife, stifled a yawn and tried to keep her eyes open. She knew finding a husband was a pressing matter, especially now, with her younger cousin assuming more and more of his duties as Crown Prince of the Moon Valley. Regardless, she found the entire procedure of receiving suitors and compliments tedious and hollow.

She had received a very good education, and knew the foreign kings’ and lords’ economic interests well enough not to delude herself with notions of finding romance. In addition, her dutiful lady-in-waiting had gathered gossip from their courts, and so Maria was all too aware of each suitor’s character, virtues and flaws alike.

Or so she thought.

The next one stepped forward, and the herald cleared his throat before introducing him as “Robin, King of the Pine Wood”.

Maria involuntarily sat up a little straighter. This, finally, was interesting. The Pine Wood was their neighbouring country, but as they were separated by a hill ridge, an ancient feud, and, well, the pine wood, she had never been to any sort of formal visit. Then again, the new king had been mysteriously absent as a prince and had only returned shortly before his father died after a long illness. No-one really knew him, and his appearance bore the potential of new alliances, if not that of a marriage.

King Robin stepped forward. His dark hair had been slicked and combed back, and his face was rather stern, with his straight brows, his broad cheekbones and the thin almost-smile. The most remarkable feature was perhaps the red doublet he wore over his white shirt and dark breeches.

“My lady.” He bowed to her and took her hand. “Allow me to give you this gift in the hope that you may find good use for it.”

When she opened her hand and looked at his gift, she felt all colour drain from her face. In her palm lay a key, the head shaped like a heart, with delicate patterns and an inlaid pearl. She knew exactly where the key was supposed to fit, and she knew she would not be able to “find good use for it”.

As did he. He had to know. Surely, his father would have passed on the details of the ancient feud to him before his death, no?

It was an insult, an audacity, and it took all of Maria’s composure not to slap the king in his handsome face right then and there.

“A pretty gift,” she said with glacial politeness. “Rather small, but in this very befitting for a Robin, King Redbreast.”

She winced as soon as the words left her mouth, and she saw the same reaction in the court around her. The other suitors did a very poor job of hiding their glee, and their tittering was worse than any maids’ gossip.

King Red-  King Robin pressed his lips even more tightly together. His eyes darkened, and he did not offer her any more gestures of politeness before turning on his heel and leaving the hall.

“I hope I need not tell you how badly behaved you were.”

The shame of the memory mad Maria’s cheeks heat up, and as usual, she defended herself by getting angry.

“I am sorry for my conduct, if only for the damage it may have done to my uncle’s reputation, and to your education, Lady Heliotrope. But did you not see the King? As arrogant and conceited as the rest of them. Did you not see the gift he gave me? How presumptuous! We have made it abundantly clear that we don’t have the pearls. How dare he offend me like this!”

Lady Heliotrope sighed, and then quickly changed the topic, for she thought she had seen someone move on the other side of the archway, and this conversation was not meant for strangers’ ears.

“Have you made your choice yet, my dear?”

“No, Uncle.”

King Benjamin looked worried. “You know you must make one by tomorrow. We cannot let all these men wait a day longer. Not only would that be impolite, but they are a terribly noisy crowd, too.”

Maria gave him half a smile. She had already started calculating the benefits and comparing her suitors, and her calculations had left her with two or three solid options. She would need this last night’s sleep to figure out whom she would rather spend the rest of her life with. “I will make one tomorrow, Uncle.”

However, sleep was not on the table that night. Maria was still awake and fully dressed, pondering her options, when a mysterious creaking sound startled her. She grabbed a candleholder and suspiciously eyed the fireplace, where it had come from. Suddenly, the horse on the mantelpiece lowered its head, and then the entire fireplace swung aside to reveal a narrow corridor, and the dark figure emerging from it.

Maria was too startled to attack. The intruder was a man, clad entirely in black, with wild curls, dark eyes lined with even darker smudges of coal, and a strip of black fabric across the middle of his face hiding his identity.

“Who are you?”

No reply.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“And you should be asleep.” His voice was a little rough and pressed, as if he was lowering it on purpose.

“I have work to do.”

He glanced at her writing desk, but she slipped between him and her papers. Her choice might be a state event, but her reasoning was a private matter. “That is none of your business. What do you want?”

He let his gaze wander over her from head to toe, and she became all too aware of her loose, unkempt hair and the ink-stains on her fingers and probably her cheek. Nevertheless, there was something in his eyes that felt like appreciation, and she struggled to suppress a shudder.

“I need company for an adventure,” he said, and held out his hand. “Will you join me?”

And Maria, weary of responsibility and afraid of her choice, took his hand.

Behind the fireplace, a narrow secret passageway led them out into the woods, way outside the castle walls. Maria had never been there alone, without guards and maids, and certainly never at night with a complete stranger, but she did not feel afraid in the slightest. The moon was bright, and she felt like she could see everything, and the night was alive with all the creatures in the woods, and the wind whispering in the trees, and the sea murmuring in the distance. A white horse and a huge black dog were waiting for them, and the stranger helped her sit on the dog’s back before he mounted the horse, and then they rode, rode, rode for an endless while during which time seemed to stand still.

Eventually, they slowed down until the animals stood still. The stranger looked around and said in a low voice: “We will have to proceed on foot here. The ground is too soft and sandy for them to carry us, and there are patrols. You can be quiet, Princess, can you not?”

Maria nodded and slid off the dog’s back, patting its neck in gratitude. She let her gaze wander around and follow the lengths of the bare tree trunks all the way up to the wispy crowns, almost invisibly black against the night sky.

Were those pines? How far had they ridden, exactly?

All too aware that they might be on foreign ground, she followed the stranger further between the trees. The ground did shift and sink beneath her boots, making it harder to walk and slowing her down, and so focused was she on not stumbling across any roots that it took her a moment to realise that she could not see the stranger anymore.

She looked around with wide eyes. Black and silver was the world around her, but the stranger was not part of it anymore, it seemed. Her first instinct was to call out for him, but she remembered what he had said about patrols, and pressed her lips together. Had he been caught by a patrol? Then why hadn’t she? Were they still around, waiting for her to make a mistake?

Perhaps it would be wisest to try and walk back to where they had left the animals, she thought. She turned around and walked slowly, but she could not retrace her footsteps, as the sand had already filled them in.

A rustling in the air startled her, and she could not suppress a shout as a large bird flew close past her head, shrieking as if to alert everyone to her presence. Its dark eyes seemed to watch her every movement, and it seemed so malicious that she began to run in the desperate hope that this was the right direction.

She ran, and stumbled, and thought she could hear the bird behind her, and when she turned her head to see if it was really there, she missed a step, and then she was falling, and tumbling, and the sandy ground swallowed her and spit her out into complete darkness.

No, it was not completely dark. There was a faint silver glow, but it seemed to come from herself – and she discovered that she still had the little key King Redbreast gave her in her pocket, and the pearl was shining, shimmering, glowing, stronger and stronger by the minute. Curious, she placed it on her palm and lifted it up so she might see more.

She was standing inside a low cave, carved between huge roots which had been bent into shapes that might have resembled furniture a long time ago: a bed, a bench, a table. In lieu of chests and caskets, pockets had been dug into the walls, some large enough to hold a gown or two, some almost too small for a man’s hand to reach.

One of these pockets, it seemed to Maria, contained something glowing itself, responding to the glow of her key. When she reached into it, she almost felt it humming against her hand, and with utter disbelief, she pulled out a string of pearls – the string of pearls, the source of the feud, of so much sorrow and strife.

Before she could recover from the shock, with a lot of noise, someone else fell through the same hole she had come through. It was the stranger, and with one look, he had taken in her and the cave and the pearls, grabbed her by the arm, and ushered her into a tunnel – behind the fireplace, just like the one in her room at the castle. He closed the gate behind them.

“You found them!”, he whispered urgently. “We need to run – there are people after me who would kill for them.”

So they ran again, on more solid, if not evener ground than before, and it seemed like half an eternity to Maria before the tunnel spat them out onto the cliffs above the ocean. The moon was huge, almost threatening, and its light made it seem as if they were standing in broad daylight.

She turned to the stranger. The strip of fabric had slipped a little, and she had a suspicion she knew who he was.

She lifted her hands. “These should have been a blessing, but they have brought nothing but pain and discord.”

He nodded. “That is true. Though the greed in men’s hearts for the pearls was often but an excuse for them to start a quarrel.”

“If…,” she started. “If I give them back to nature – if the pearls go back to nature, and the excuse for all quarrel is gone – will you bear witness to it?”

He understood, she saw it in his eyes. “I will.”

“I hold you to your word, King Robin.”

His eyes widened for a moment, then he smiled and took off the cloth. “And I you to your deeds, Princess.”

She nodded. Lifting up her palms to the moon, offering the pearls, she stepped closer to the edge of the cliff.

She did not speak a word. This was about humility, a silent apology for mankind’s misuse of nature’s blessing, and nature did not need words to understand it. So she threw the pearls and the key into the ocean far below, and stepped back, hands folded and head bowed, and stood next to the King in silence for a moment.

Nature saw it. Nature saw the anger in his men, and the mistrust in her uncle, and unseen by the couple on the cliff themselves, Nature gave them another blessing, more subtle yet more powerful than the pearls: a kind of inner strength that had a glow of its own, that would allow them to speak with conviction, to persuade with gentleness, to mediate with justice.

So, as they turned away from the ocean and made their way back through the forest, talking in low voices, the valley already began to heal.

And when King Robin and Princess Maria reached the castle in the morning and announced their betrothal, it was the beginning of an era of prosperity and peace.

[read on AO3]

@theargopriestess @maybeamagpie @hotpotatoburn

@immergladsss @bedofthistles @lalla0019

[lalla0019]

Thumbelina

For @incorrect-quotes-of-moonacre, for all the work you put into Moonacre Week every year.

[lalla0019]

Hello, I have a questione. Someone has ever thought to create a candle based on the secret of moonacre or its characters? If so, what scents would you use?

[lalla0019]

I created a new account because the other one is marked as containing sensitive content, so I post the images again.

Moonacre week 2022

Day 1 - Tattoo