It was the perfect plan. Gendry would pretend to court Arya for the current season to discourage the eager mothers and their eligible daughters from throwing themselves at him as well as prevent Catelyn Stark from trying to set Arya up with Elmar Frey. What was the worst that could happen?
Christine sat at the window, staring out over the snow-covered de Chagny gardens. The window was frosty, and snow flurries still swirled in the air. Downstairs, she could hear the guests singing Christmas carols.
She didn’t belong here and she knew it. She had known it long before catching the condescending glances of Raoul’s sisters over Christmas dinner. She smoothed the front of her dress, borrowed from a more well-off member of the company and still a year out of style.
A part of her yearned for the simple Christmases with her father, spent huddled around a fireplace as he played the violin. Together, they would sing songs of faraway Bethlehem. Her father would always give Christine a single orange as a present.
“Christine, I had wondered where you had gone.”
Christine startled out of her thoughts and looked up to see Raoul. She immediately plastered a smile on her face, tucking away her emotions so that no one but herself could guess at them. “I needed a few minutes to myself.”
“It’s alright,” Raoul said. “I was…I was hoping to catch you alone, actually.”
Christine watched his shaking hands, and nervousness clenched her stomach. Surely he wasn’t—not here, not so soon. She tore her eyes away from him and looked back outside the window.
Her chest ached. She cared for Raoul, she truly did. He had always been such a good friend to her. He would die to protect her if need be, and a part of her hated herself that she couldn’t feel as deeply for him as he did for her.
No, in her dreams at night, Christine still pictured another by her side. A part of her heart still resided five stories below the opera house. She still mourned the loss of her Angel of Music. And while the one night they had shared under the opera house had been nothing short of magical, Christine couldn’t help but picture Joseph Buquet’s body hanging from the rafters. Her maestro had made choices that night that Christine could never reconcile. She swore that she would marry a good man, and good men didn’t murder stagehands. But oh God, how it hurt.
For a split second, she swore she saw a flash of black moving between the evergreen shrubs.
She looked back at Raoul as he moved closer and then went down on one knee. He pulled out a large diamond ring—it had to have cost more money than Christine could even fathom—and said, “Christine, I think I have always loved you. Would you do me the honor of being my wife?”
Christine nodded, forcing any pain she may have felt moments ago into the most private parts of her heart. She had lived in Paris for years now; if nothing else, she had learned the value of creating a mask a happiness in the face of grief. “Of course, Raoul. Yes, I’ll marry you.”
He grinned and jumped up. Before he even slipped the ring on her finger, Raoul pressed a tender kiss to Christine’s lips. He tasted like honey. As soon as he broke away, he fumbled with the ring, trying to slip it on her finger. “Let’s go announce it to my family downstairs.”
Between the weight of the diamond, the idea of facing the de Chagny family again, and the sudden realization that her maestro could very easily see the engagement ring on her finger when she returned to the opera, terror gripped at Christine’s throat. “Raoul,” she said, her voice edged in panicked desperation, “please, can we keep it secret for now?”
“Secret? Christine, why?”
She forced a smile and caressed his cheek. “Just give us a few weeks to enjoy this. The fact that we’re getting married before the world starts meddling.”
His face softened as he reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Anything for you, Christine.”
Christine slipped the ring into her pocket. She pretended that she didn’t feel a pang of guilt. “Thank you, Raoul. I love you.”
His grin returned. “I love you, too. Imagine it, the future Vicomtess de Chagny, Christine Daaé.”
He headed back down the stairs. Before Christine followed him, she looked out the window once more. The sky was darkening outside. Still, she scanned the shrubbery for another flash of black.
Finally, she tore herself away from the window and followed Raoul downstairs. Her stomach already felt as if it were in knots.
A part of her already knew that she was careening headfirst into even more heartbreak, and there was nothing she could do to stop it now.
“Anything?” Simon said, his front teeth clacking together as he bit through his thumbnail once again.
“No,” Markus said, not looking up from his book.
Simon scowled and snapped, “You didn’t even check,” his voice tense and pitched up.
Markus’ eyelids flicked closed, and he paused a moment, drawing in a lungful of air, holding it, slowly releasing it. He closed his book and pulled his cell phone from his pocket. He said, “No new texts, no missed calls, no emails, nothing.”
Simon’s heart sank, and the pain of longing—an instinctual sense of being incomplete—echoed deeper in his chest as the cords of anxiety wound yet tighter around it. Nodding, he murmured, “Thank you,” and turned his vacant gaze back down to the light steel grey carpet, his knee resuming its restless bouncing, his thumbnail again rising to his mouth.
Markus pinched his lips between his teeth, his mismatching ocean blue and light forest green eyes hovering on his husband’s face. He had grown increasingly distraught over the past 20 hours, and nothing Markus did to help him relax and distract himself seemed to last for longer than 15 minutes. While Markus had a significantly higher tolerance for stress, Simon’s worry was beginning to wear on him.
Setting his book aside, Markus leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Simon,” he said, his voice firm enough to get the man’s attention yet gentle enough to not frighten or sadden him more, “what can we do to help you settle?”
Simon’s sky-blue eyes darted up to meet Markus’ for a split second before drifting away. He shrugged and said, “I don’t know.”
“We could take a walk.”
Simon’s gaze shifted to the window and the snow-covered residential street in front of their house. The identical twin boys who lived in the house directly across from theirs were still playing in the snow—bundled in thick winter gear from head-to-toe, cheeks and noses bright red—after an hour-and-a-half, and it made Simon’s heart pang with longing. He shook his head and said, “Too cold.”
“We could drive around town and look at the holiday lights displays.”
Simon’s brow knitted tightly, and he said, “No, no, no, we have to be home, we have to be ready.”
Markus sighed and leaned back in his chair, racking his brain for something engaging for them to do. “Oh,” he said, “we could start prepping dinner for tomorrow evening.” Markus’ father and brother and Simon’s brother were scheduled to visit the next day to celebrate the holidays, though it seemed unlikely a large dinner would be had now, not with this recent change in events.
“No, we have to be ready to drop everything at a moment’s notice,” Simon said. He was getting worked up again, and before he realized it, his anxiety had gotten the better of him, a pair of tears slipping past his defenses and trailing down his long cheeks.
“Oh, sunshine,” Markus said, his pet name for Simon slipping from his tongue without him even noticing. He stood and crossed the room to kneel in front of his distressed husband. He picked up both of Simon’s hands and pressed a kiss to the back of each. “Talk to me,” he said. “What are you fretting about?”
“What if something—” Simon’s voice cracked and then dropped to a whisper. “What if something’s happened?”
“Stacy would have called us if something was wrong.”
Stacy had been their case manager for years, and they trusted her. The couple would have entrusted their lives to her, and in a way, they already had. But Simon was too worried to blindly trust that no news was good news.
“It’s been so long since we’ve gotten any updates.” Just short of 20 hours.
Markus gave Simon a soft smile. “Remember what she told us a couple weeks ago. It can take a long while, especially the first time.”
Simon said, “But what if—”
Standing, Markus gave Simon’s hands a gentle tug and quieted him, saying, “All right, that’s enough. We’re not getting anywhere talking like this. Let’s go cuddle in bed and watch a movie.”
“Okay, but I—”
“Yes, we’ll keep our day clothes on, so we’re ready to go straight out the door when we get the call.”
Markus grinned, and Simon met it with a small smile of his own.
They ascended the stairs together and made their way to their bedroom. Markus crawled into bed first and extended his hands to Simon, who eyed them for a couple of moments, his brows drawing closer together with worry. Rather than trying to argue against Simon’s often logic-resistant anxieties, Markus waited, his hands outheld, inviting Simon to join him between the sheets. After a few silent moments passed, Simon drew in a couple of rapid, shallow breaths and nodded before crawling in beside his husband.
Simon rested his head on Markus’ chest and wrapped one arm over his stomach, closing his eyes as Markus pulled up a movie on his cell phone. Even as he listened to the opening lines of a cheesy Hallmark Christmas movie—their favorite at this time of year, as Simon couldn’t help but be drawn in by the contrived yet tooth-rottingly sweet romances, while Markus enjoyed quietly critiquing the white, cis, heteronormative narratives—he held them shut and focused on soothing the anxiety that had begun to smother him.
Markus’ heartbeat caught his attention first, the strong, steady rhythm that throbbed in his ear revealing his husband’s calm soul, confident and unflappable in even the most taxing situations. The sound had always been soothing to Simon, and in fact had been key in easing him out of his first panic attack in Markus’ presence. The more he focused on the sound, the more his body and mind wound down from their constant thought, constant movement, constant feeling, and by mid-way through the movie, he had soothed enough to actually pay attention to the plot.
Despite this, Simon couldn’t stop his mind from yet again wandering to how things were going. There were so many things that could go wrong, so many unforeseen complications that could appear last minute, so many problems that could absolutely decimate all the patience, hard work, and thousands of dollars they had spent over the past six years in pursuit of filling the yawning void in their lives. They were so close, and to be left in the dark as more and more time passed without any word, Simon felt the fear building and building until he couldn’t take it anymore.
“Markus, I-I think-I think I’m—”
Simon sat bolt upright, panic flooding his system. He clamped his hands to his mouth as his slightly elevated breathing rate skyrocketed to sharp, rapid gasps, unable to keep the fresh air in his lungs before a spasm expelled it and then drew it back in once again. Within a few seconds, his head was spinning, and he felt like he was suffocating. His heartbeat was little more than a background roar, the beats so close together as to barely be distinguishable from one another. His chest and stomach grew painfully tight, his hands began to shake, and tears sprang instantly to his eyes.
Standing, Simon took a step away from the bed, aimed as if he were leaving the room, but his mind was blank aside from the need to rush down to his car and make his way to the hospital, driven entirely by his terror. And yet, the small, logical part of him was still enough in control for him to recognize he would have nowhere to go and nothing to do if he followed that instinct to just do something, making some kind of movement forward, even if it was pointless and unhelpful. It was the sitting and waiting, his and Markus’ future totally and completely out of his control, that he simply couldn’t handle.
After a long few minutes of uninterrupted panic, Simon pacing one way around the foot of the bed and then the other, enough to make even an observer dizzy, he finally settled enough for the din of his heartbeat and his breaths to abate enough to allow Markus’ voice to break through.
“Simon, sunshine, please look at me.”
Simon came to an abrupt stop and whipped his head to the side to look over at Markus, who knelt at the foot of the bed, his eyes hovering on his out-of-control husband. A soft smile slipped onto Markus’ lips, and the expression alone was akin to a blanket being draped over Simon’s soul. His head trembling, Simon took a deep breath, his gaze locked on Markus’ face, and nodded. He was calm enough to accept help.
Markus stood, his movements slow and deliberate to not startle Simon and worsen the situation, and walked around the bed until they stood face-to-face.
Voice low and soothing, he said, “May I hug you?”
Simon gave another juddering nod and drew his arms into his own chest, feeling suddenly vulnerable and exposed. Wrapping his arms around Simon’s shoulders, Markus hugged him tightly, pressing him to his chest.
“Easy does it, easy does it,” Markus said. His voice was so soft and calm, so close next to Simon’s ear, he couldn’t help but nuzzle his cheek in closer to Markus’ neck, the flesh there warm and inviting. “Everything will be all right. No matter what happens, we’ll get through it.”
Simon swallowed hard, his mouth and throat arid after all the hyperventilating he had been doing, and whispered, “How?”
Markus lifted a hand to cup the back of Simon’s head, his thumb stroking behind his ear, and said, “We’ll keep moving forward. We’ll go to work, we’ll have dinners together, we’ll snuggle every night before ed, and we’ll try again, just like we have for the past few years.”
Simon’s expression crumpled at the thought of everything returning to normal, his expectations for their shared life after today trampled underfoot, and a weak sob escaped his lips. He said, “I just don’t know if I can go back to the waiting game again. Another year? Two? Three? I can’t, Markus. I can’t do it.”
His arms trapped between his own chest and Markus’, Simon slid one hand up until he could get his thumbnail between his teeth again, prepared to anxiously bite more away, but he tasted harsh copper and paused. Pulling back from the embrace, he found his thumb oozing bright crimson blood. He stared at it for a long few moments, his overwhelmed mind struggling to process what it was seeing, until Markus took his wrists and guided him into the bathroom.
Simon couldn’t have said what happened and when to cause such a tear, but he was grateful Markus was right there to help him get to the sink, hold his thumb under the running water, and place a kiss on his forehead before hurrying to grab a bandage from the hall closet. Simon drew a deep breath and began to gently soap the wound while he waited, his mind blank, everything numb, until he heard Markus’ voice. It was too soft for him to make out what was said, but Simon’s heart jumped straight up into his mouth, nearly strangling him. All day, he had been ready, waiting for news, and he was suddenly ill-prepared to receive it, terrified it would be bad, that it would snatch away what had finally come within their reach.
After another few moments, he could hear footsteps approaching, accompanied by Markus saying, “Thank you. We’ll be right there.”
Simon stiffened, his teeth clenching so tight as to be painful, every second stretching to an hour, and finally, finally, Markus stepped into the bathroom. He had a tiny smile on his face, and he took Simon’s cheeks in his hands and pulled him in for a firm kiss that quickly softened. Their lips parted, faces remaining close, and Markus whispered, “Ready to go meet our daughter?”
Markus drove, as Simon was still far too shaky, and led the way through the labyrinthine halls of the hospital to where Stacy waited for them. A faint smile appeared on her lips as she caught sight of them approaching her, and Simon truly couldn’t tell if he would make it to the end of the hallway, where she sat with a bundle of blankets cradled in her arms, fearful something would happen at the last second to keep him from the baby he had awaited for years.
But nothing and no one stopped them, and Stacy watched as Simon tremulously lowered himself into the chair next to her. She said, “Before I hand her to you, there’s something you should know.”
Simon’s heart might as well have stopped dead in his chest, his face turning white, the smile dropping from his lips. He knew it. Something was wrong. All the worst-case scenarios he had struggled to shove down for the past nearly 24 hours rose up in a wave, and it took every last ounce of his willpower to not break down again.
“She has unilateral anophthalmia. She was born with only one eye.” Stacy tilted the newborn up for the new parents to see her right eyelid lay closed and flat, while the other was open to reveal a bright and aware, honey brown eye. “You’ll need to schedule an appointment with an ophthalmologist, and she will need prosthetics to ensure the eye socket grows correctly, but she’s strong and healthy and ready to meet her dads.”
Stacy leaned close to pass the tiny newborn to Simon, and as soon as he felt the weight of her small body in his arms, cradled against his chest, the dread and the shaking eased almost instantaneously. Simon felt sturdier, more grounded, more correct, and he couldn’t possibly have been more in love with their little girl.
Her birth mother asked me to thank you again for your financial support,” Stacy said, her gaze rising to Markus’.
Sitting on Simon’s opposite side, Markus met her smile with one of his own, and said, “Of course. Please thank her for taking such good care of our little sunflower.” He looped an arm around Simon’s shoulder and leaned in close to get a better look at their daughter’s eye and the tufts of blonde hair adorning her head.
“I will. I need to go meet with her, but I’ll be back in a bit to regroup, all right?”
Simon and Markus both nodded, barely aware of her presence, they were both so enchanted by the newborn, whose eyelid was beginning to droop with fatigue, her limbs squirming inside the tightly wrapped blanket.
Simon finally looked up to meet Markus’ eyes and smiled, saying, “Oh, god, I just realized she’s going to hate her birthday so much one day.”
Markus released a soft laugh and pressed a kiss to Simon’s cheek. He said, “Well, we’ll just have to remind her each year that she’s the most precious gift we’ve ever received.”
Tears rose once more in Simon’s eyes, his smile broadening, and he dipped his head to kiss the newborn girl’s forehead. She made the softest sighing sound Simon had ever heard, a pang of pure adoration radiating out from his heart, down his arms, and into his stomach. As badly as he wanted to hold her every single second for the rest of his life, he passed her to Markus, who also bent close, stroking her downy cheek with the back of his finger, and kissed her head.
When Markus sat up again, Simon was shocked to find a tear had slipped from his eye, leaving behind a trail down his cheek. Simon frowned with concern and dabbed it away with the cuff of his sweater pulled down over his hand.
“What’s wrong?” Simon asked, placing his hand on Markus’ upper arm. He struggled to recall the last time he had seen Markus shed tears—perhaps on the day of their wedding.
Markus smiled, loosing another tear, and said, “Now no one will be missing tomorrow. Our little family has been made whole just in time for Christmas.”
i’m hoping that tonight i will finally break the curse of being always one day behind, and this next one should be easy to talk about because i love it so much!
[image description: a small lego model of the Goblet of Fire, from the book and film of the same name, with blue flames extending outwards. it is built to be on the same scale as a minifigure. end image description.]
it’s the Goblet of Fire itself! i must say that i’m really darn enjoying this one. it looks just as at it does in the movies, and i’m enchanted by the blue fire! i’m glad to have such an iconic prop from the film represented by today’s door.
i have to give it a 10/10. i couldn’t want anything more from this build. the only way it would be better is if it came with a little slip that said “Harry Potter” or perhaps four, one for each champion -- but that is above and beyond what i would expect, and if i had gotten those, i would have awarded above 10. i don’t give a FUCK if that breaks the rules. we’re NO GODS NO MASTERS this 2020 holiday season, folks!
in comparison to last year, when we got Professor McGonagall on Door 6, i’d say this should be awarded an “Exceeds Expectations” -- i know i liked Minnie then, but i’ve seen better minifigures of her since and i think that overall, last year’s calendar would’ve benefit from a Draco, a Neville, or a Ginny as opposed to McGonagall. i particularly would’ve liked Neville in his pajamas, so i’m retroactively disappointed. although, Minerva is still a pretty good present, so i wouldn’t say the Goblet of Fire is quite an Outstanding. so yeah, i’m going with Exceeds Expectations, my fellow warlocks
also, check out this funny picture I made with some pieces from my other sets.
[image description: lego minifigures of Fred and George Weasley, with full grey beards, standing in front of the lego Goblet of Fire, as if they had been magically changed to grow beards as had in the films. the twins are both moving their arms in the air in panic and distress. image description end.]
what do y’all think of today’s build?
stay tuned for Door 7 Soon™, and click here to see all the doors so far!
Jumin sat at his desk, signing the last few documents of the day, when Jaehee stepped inside his office saying: "Mr. Han, the Oil Prince asked for a very important meeting, i looked at your schedule and saw that your evening was free, i booked a flight at 11 pm, and scheduled the meeting for tomorrow." "Hmm... Thats not very pleasant but i guess it couldn't have been avoided. Ok then, thank you,... uhm, Ms. Kang, how about we call it the day and go home?" He looked up only to see her questioning gaze resting on him. "What's the matter?" "Aren't you going to get mad at me because i didn't ask for your opinion first?" The young man shook his head, sighed and carefully placed the documents aside. "Jaehee, why should i get mad? Its ok, you did your job and i'll do mine. But lets head home now, it's quite late already and I want to meet Mc. I got something quite exciting from her today and she said that I'll need it tonight." He pulled a little bag outside his desk drawer and showed her the inside. A candle. One single candle. "And what do you need it for?" She asked him with one brow raised. "I don't know yet, but I'm about to find it out."
He came home a little bit later than usually, but as soon as he walked through the door a wondeful smell reached his nose. Roasted chicken with all kinds of spices... Jumin knew it wasn't something a chef prepared so when he stepped into the kitchen he saw Mc preparing the last bits for their dinner. The CEO took the chance to hug her from behind: "Hey, my love, what are you doing?" "Preparing your St. Nicolaus dinner. Did you bring the candle? Because you won't get dinner without it." The young woman winked at him before Jumin grabbed her hand by the wrist and placed the candle in her palm. " Of course i did." "Great, then have a seat at the table and dim the lights because you're going to get a very special candle light dinner." mc winked and took the plates to carry them to the table, while he lighted up all the candles on the table.
After they sat down time seemed to stand still, they only had eyes for their significant other right in front of them. They talked about their days, shared some compliments and exchanged flirty glances and simply enjoyed their time together. But guilty feelings kicked in soon after they finished their meal. "Mc i've got to tell you something, i have a business trip scheduled for this evening, the oil prince wants to have a meeting again, I'm so sorry i'm ruining this evening by cutting it short. I feel very guilty about this." He placed his hand softly over Mcs and stroked it carefully. A smile spread across her face. "Why are smiling, my dear?" "Well, i already knew and packed your suitcase, and i do know that you'll return on Sunday, right?" "... Right. wait.. how do you know about this - i haven't told you until now?" "Jaehee told me, and i told her of my plans with you too tonight, so she booked the very last flight."
While a sigh escaped his mouth he ran a hand through his hair and started smiling. Why wasn't she mad about their quality time being shortened by a trip to the south east? After a while Jumin stood up, hugging her again and starting to blush. "How do i deserve you? You're such an angel Mc. Thank you for the dinner and... well everything. I will make it up to you, when i return. I promise." The emotions he put into the kiss weakened her knees, making them feel like pudding, she felt her heart beating so fast that she thought it was about to explode if he'd continue kissing her like this. But a quick look on his watch told him it was time to go. "I'm sorry, Mc, again. This has been an amazing evening."
Jumin took his suitcase and gave it to Driver Kim who was already waiting at the front door, after kissing her good bye again he followed him to the elevator, not knowing that the next bag was in his suitcase, waiting for him to open it on the next day.
