#moonacreweek2022

[thesecretatbriarsbrook]

The Secret of Moonacre 2009

[thewuzzy]

the fact that real life human beings are writing secret of moonacre fanfiction in the year of our lord 2022: effervescent

[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

[incorrect-quotes-of-moonacre]

Moonacre Week Themes

Day one- Tattoo

Day two- Memoriam

Day three- Flower Crown/s

Day four- LGBTQ+

Day five- “Let me see”

Day six- Scars

Day seven- Wearing their clothes

Remember you can take these prompts in any direction and use any pairing you like. They can be romantic or they can be platonic. You can make art, fics, photo sets, really anything goes! Make sure to tag #moonacreweek2022 

Don’t worry about posting late. I will accept them all! This started as a way to get the moonacre fandom alive again so please share your talents! 

This is our 5th year!

[awordwasthebeginning]

Moonacre Week 2022

Day 1: Tattoo

There is a small spot of colour on the right side of Robin’s ribcage.

Maria has never noticed it before, but that’s hardly surprising. They’ve grown closer in their time of living together, but they’ve only recently begun to share a bed, usually after long hours of watching films and talking, when it’s really too late to get used to another mattress.

And she doesn’t make a habit of ogling Robin when he gets changed, much like he doesn’t watch her. Maybe they’ll get there someday, but for now, Maria usually turns her back to him. She has just turned back to grab her brush from the nightstand, and Robin is inspecting a hole at the hem of his T-shirt. He has rucked it up a bit, and the spot of colour on his ribs looks like a bruise or scratch at first glance, but it’s too geometrical for that.

Robin looks up and Maria blushes. “Sorry.”

“What is it?”

“There’s –” She hesitates. “What’s that on your rib?”

“Oh, it’s a tattoo.”

A tattoo? She has never considered Robin having tattoos, but it’s not surprising, either. He twists the hem of his shirt between his fingers. “You can have a closer look if you want.”

Maria steps a bit closer and looks. Two letters, L and R, in a thin sans serif font, enclosed by two circular lines; all of this on the background of a flag with horizontal stripes in various shades of red and pink. Maria recognises the flag, she’s done her fair share of research on all things queer, but she doesn’t quite understand what it’s doing on Robin’s ribs.

“Who is L?”

“My mum. Lisette. The R stands for Rachael.”

Maria tries, okay? She tries really hard to school her expression into something neutral, but she is clearly failing. Robin tugs his shirt down and grins. “It’s not that complicated, actually.”

“I don’t mean to pry.”

“You would’ve heard eventually, anyway,” he says. “My mum and Rachael, Loveday’s mum, were a couple. Had been for decades. And they wanted children, so they asked my dad, on two different occasions. So basically, we had three parents. I lived with our mums for a while, then moved out to live with Dad. And when my mum died, I got this tattoo.”

Maria is sitting next to him now. She looks at where the tattoo is hidden beneath his shirt, and smiles. “I’m sorry about your mum. But that’s a nice gesture. Do they know about the tattoo?”

“Oh, yeah. Yelled at me for it, too, Dad as well as Rachael, ‘what if you regret it’, and all that. But then Loveday said she was considering getting a nipple piercing, and that distracted them.”

“Thanks for that visual image”, Maria says and grimaces. “I know way too many intimate details about your sister already.”

Robin laughs. “She didn’t actually get it!”

Maria merely raises a brow. See, she has heard her cousin and Loveday having sex. She knows things.

[a-winters-child]

My late contribution for Day 1 of Moonacre Week 2022!!

[immergladsss]

Day 4- LGBTQ +

[Technically will be CHp5 of Dear Maria Count me In from Moonacre week 2021, but can be read stand alone)

[Rated M. Warning- it gets spicy in the beginning]

Maria stretched into the air, raising her oversized tee. She brushed her hair into a messy bun and propped her hands on her hips. She was ready for the day. It was Saturday morning and Robin was still asleep... In her bed... and very underdressed... Maria bit her smile as she felt a rush of blood flood her face.  A week had passed since their... er...confession. Maria’s heart threatened to burst with joy.

She reached over the sofa and pushed open the window. The warming summer air fluttered in alongside with the sounds of singing birds. It was the only sound in the otherwise quiet city and it wasn’t due to the wee hours of the morning, but the ongoing pandemic that loomed over their heads.

Yet that wasn’t enough to dampen her spirits. For she now had more than she did before COVID, she had finally conquered Robin’s heart! Maria danced with joy. He was finally hers!

With a content sigh, she looked down at her half-packed luggage. They were originally supposed to return to Moonacre last week, but the recent change in their relationship meant they decided to stay a while longer and enjoy each other’s company—something they did very well.

However unfortunately for the two lovebirds, her family was practically begging them to return. They missed Maria dreadfully and no longer believed the many excuses she’d toss their way. Of course, it was Loveday who led this rebellion. She felt it in her gut that something was different between her brother and her husband’s niece, but neither subject was willing to give Loveday the satisfaction of knowing the truth about their relationship.

Clapping her hands together, Maria got to work packing her clothes into her suitcase. It was one of four. She wasn’t sure when she’d be back, so she wanted to take anything she’d need.

Once she finished, she mused over the small suitcase besides her. Since Robin only expected to stay a couple of days, he quickly ran out of clothes. This left her with the perfect opportunity to do some shopping for him (online of course) and add more variety to his wardrobe. At first, he protested, quoting ‘I’ll stop wearing black when they make a darker color,’ from Fall Out Boy. Yet, Maria simply ignored him, simply wondering how FOB was still relevant.

Obviously, Maria won in the end, and Robin quickly received a new set of clothes: A light-washed jean jacket, a pastel green and beige bowling shirt, a couple of oversized vintage long-sleeved shirts, a brown cardigan (Robin rolled his eyes when he saw it), and his least favorite item—high-waisted trousers. Robin practically hissed when he saw them. However, it didn’t take long for him to concede that her outfit choices did give him a new air and striking good look. Maria sniggered, she couldn’t wait to dress him up again.

“What’s so funny?” He muttered by her ear as his strong arms wrapped around her waist from behind.

“Oh nothing, just imagining Loveday’s reaction when you arrive in your new clothes.” She looked over her shoulder and kissed his lips. She turned in his arms and wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer.

“Keep imagining because it’s not happening,” he mumbled against her lips.

“What if I ask nicely?”

“Nope,” he tried to say with a note of finality, but he faltered as Maria nibbled his earlobe.

“Robin.... Just... once... please,” she said in between trailing kisses down his neck.

“I’ll give you a better reason to beg.” He lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his hips. Robin leaned in and pressed her back against the sofa. One hand tangled into her hair while the other traced up her leg and under her shirt. She shivered against the cool touch of his fingers as they cupped her breast. Maria nibbled on his bottom lip and raked her fingers down his hair and into his back, relishing the feel of his muscles working to please her. Her fingers snuck underneath the waistband of his knickers—then the phone rang.

Maria recognized Mr. De Noir's Phantom of the Opera ringtone.

"It's your fa—"

"—I know, ignore him," he continued kissing her. Crawling closer between her legs and pulling up her shirt—then the phone rang a second time.

"Robin you should—"

"—he can wait." He had to work a bit more to get Maria to focus on him again, but he was rewarded when she let out a soft moan as he—the phone rang a third time.

"For fucks sake!" Robin pulled away. His eyes threw daggers at his phone, wishing he could destroy it with just one glance.

Maria cupped his cheek and brought his eyes back to hers, “It might be an emergency, you should answer.”

Robin heaved a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry," he mumbled with a quick peck to her lips.

He looked at his phone and groaned. "Fuck, it’s a video call."

He walked to their room, readjusting his knickers along the way, and came back out pulling a shirt over his head.

He sat next to Maria, but she quickly scampered away. "Oh no, no, no! I am not the least bit presentable."

Robin noticed the growing bruises along her neck and had to agree. He sat on the other side and finally answered the phone.

"Ah, good morning, Robin! My boy… Er I hope I’m not bothering you?"

Robin frowned. "No," he grumbled a response.

"Good, good... er where's Maria?"

"She's packing her luggage, do you want me to call her?"

"No! No, it's alright… I think it's better for us to talk first. Yes. I think that’s best.” His father’s eyes trailed off into the distance. "Erm. When are you arriving again?"

Robin scowled. "In 3 days. We spoke about this last night. You called to schedule rehearsals."

"Ah, yes, yes..." his father looked off screen again, he seemed to be mouthing something to someone else.

He was put off by the nervousness in his father’s voice. His father was not a nervous man. Was this a hostage situation? "Are you alright?" Robin asked. “…Do you need help?”

"Oh- er, yes, yes I’m alright. No help needed.”

"Then, is someone sick?"

"No no... nothing like that."

"Are you sure? You called quite a bit, seemed like an emergency."

"In a sense..." his father trailed off, rolling his eyes at whoever was off-screen. Suddenly his father’s mic went mute, it looked like he was having an intense discussion.

"Dad? I can't hear you,” Robin called out, but his father was still muted. “Dad, you’re on mute. Hello?”

"Is everything alright?" Maria asked, watching from the kitchen. She was snacking on some crackers topped with cheese and tomato.  

"Dunno, he’s talking to someone off-screen. Seems agitated."

Finally, his father’s audio came back. "Sorry Robin, I had to clear some things. Yes-er- I called to talk to you about something. Something important. Something I've been meaning to tell you. I should have told you a long time ago, I just didn't know how to say it."

"Er... alright... what is it?"

"You know that dinner we're having when you return?"

"Yes..."

"It's an engagement dinner."

"Engagement? Whose?"

"Mine."

"Yours?" Robin laughed. "Who on earth are you engaged to. You’ve been single since mum's death. Said you’d never date again."

"Yes well, life took an unexpected turn.” His father sighed and looked at him, his face serious and grave. “You-you know the person."

"Who is she?" Robin asked incredulously. In all the time he’s known his father, he’s never shown an ounce of interest to another person.

His father sighed and looked once more off-screen, as though seeking encouragement. "He. I-it's a he…”

“Oh… alright… Who is he?”

His father scrunched his face before blurting, “It’s Dulac. I'm engaged to Dulac."

A plate shattered in the kitchen. Robin’s brain short circuited.

He stared at his phone screen, speechless. He heard what his father said, but his brain just couldn't comprehend it. Maria stumbled into his line of sight. Her mouth was wide open. She was as shocked as he was.

"D-Dulac?"

"Yes."

“Your big, scary, life-long friend?”

“Yes.”

“The man I’ve known my whole life?”

“Yes!” His father shouted, now a bright red. “Dulac, the man that’s been by my side your whole life. This man!” His father reached over and pulled Dulac into view. Though his face was grave and set, Dulac was as red as his father.

"How long have you both-- er- been engaged for?"

"About a year now."

"A year!” It was as though another rug had been pulled from under him. “And dating?"

"Not much longer."

“Huh.” Robin cocked his head. He furrowed his brow. He rested his chin on the palm of his hand.  You see, Robin’s brain was still processing. He thought long and hard on all his interactions with his father and Dulac, but he just couldn’t find it. He couldn’t pinpoint a time where the relationship between his father and Dulac had changed. He had just seen them only a week ago. Everything was as it always had been. Was he just that daft?

"We’re sorry,” Dulac interjected. His deep and gruff voice seemed to break Robin out of his stupor. “We’re sorry for keeping it a secret for so long. I insisted we tell you as soon as you arrived back to Moonacre, but your dad kept pushing it off."

Robin nodded his head in acknowledgement, but still, he remained silent.

Mr. De Noir’s agitation was growing. He looked between Dulac and Robin, before finally mustering the long-dreaded question, "A-are you mad? At me? At all…all… this?"

"What! No, no!” Robin adamantly shook his head. All his time working with his dad’s historical reenactment theater troupe allowed him to meet all sorts of people. In fact, he could count on two fingers the few times someone’s identity or sexuality threw him for a loop: the first was when his best-friend Richard revealed to be gender fluid; and the second—well this, his father!

“I'm just surprised. Processing is all… Does Loveday know?"

"She figured something was going on, but we just made it official to her as well."

Robin couldn’t wait to talk to his sister. "So, you're gay?"

“Er I believe so, maybe demisexual? I’m still figuring it out myself."

“Fair... I, t-thank you for confiding in me. I, I appreciate it.”

His father nodded. "I’m sorry it took so long for me to get the courage. Thank you for listening. Hopefully three days is enough to process this, but if you need more time, I’ll cancel everything. You and Loveday come first.” Dulac nodded in agreement.

“No, no, that’s not necessary.”

“Are you sure?”

Robin smiled, of course he was sure. His father would move mountains for his children. He had sacrificed so much after his mum’s death, and not once did he complain or make either of them feel like a burden.  “Yes, I’m sure.”

“Alright then, I’ll let you go…."

Robin looked over the phone. Maria was now back on the sofa, also seemingly back to herself. She give him a thumbs-up and wave of encouragement.

“Oh, hang on! Congratulations dad. You’ve always done so much for us. I-I want you to be happy. You deserve to be happy—you both do, and Dulac, welcome to our family—officially."

Their faces lit up. Robin was sure his father was getting teary as they hung up.

When the call ended, Robin dropped his phone and covered his face with his hands.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah. Still processing." His hands slid down his face. "I'm going to have a stepdad… and it's Dulac. Dulac."

Maria nestled into his side. "Who would’ve known. The burliest, manliest men in all the world, together. I love that for them. Breaking stereotypes. I stan those two kings."

Robin chuckled, but there was still a far off look in his eyes.

Maria rubbed his back. “Are you sure you’re, ok?”

"I'm going to have a stepdad..."

"Yes, you are," Maria laughed.

“…and you, you’re going to have two fathers-in-law.”

Now it was Maria’s turn to freeze. She stared at Robin with wide eyes and watched as realization struck his. “W-well, t-that’s if y-you want too—”

“—I do—”

“—A-after you finish school of course—”

“—of course—”

“—S-so it’s settled then—”

“It is.” She brought her forehead to his and looked into his eyes. “But I still expect a proper proposal. A romantic, and proper, proposal. When the time comes, of course—”

“—Of course,” he smiled and kissed her lips, sinking into her sweet caress and resuming where they had left off.

_________________________________________________ Thank you for reading! I also had this sitting in my drafts! IDK why, but when I first saw Dulac and Coeur, I was like “I ship it”, and its always been in my head since. Then, when I first began writing Dear Maria, I wanted to include a hint of their relationship, but I just couldn't do it naturally so I had to scrap it. BUT when I saw this prompt, i was like “oh man, we are bringing it back!” So thank you @incorrect-quotes-of-moonacre your prompts are always the kick I need to actually get things done! I hope its not too OOC

[immergladsss]

Day 3- Flower Crown

[Continuation from Day 2]

“How is she?” Robin asked Loveday as he stepped into the manor the next day.

“Still the same, I’m shocked really. She’s taking it so hard.” Loveday led the way to Maria’s tower, hoping with every step of the way that he’ll be able to console Maria.

Inside her room, high up in her tower, Maria’s heart was still heavy and numb. She watched the world outside her window through listless eyes. Anytime a smile threatened to cross her lips, she turned to Serena’s empty basket and felt a jab a pain, thinking of the many joyous mornings they would no longer share. Maria couldn’t dare feel any joy. She felt too much guilt.

Her door creaked open. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Robin walk in and heard Loveday quietly walk away.

“Morning, feeling any better?” His horse voice threatened the coldness of her heart.

Maria shrugged. “Should I feel better?” She asked without peeling her eyes from the window.

Robin came from behind and enveloped her in his arms. Maria leaned back and took in a deep breath. Her eyes began to sting again.

“Let’s take a walk outside,” he whispered in her ear.

“I don’t want to get dressed.”

“You don’t have to.” He draped her long coat over her nightgown and led Maria down her winding steps, out the manor, and into the garden.

The morning sun blinded her swollen eyes. She dropped her head; her limp curls shaded her face from the world. Still, Robin pulled her forwards. Under a large, and old oak tree, there was a blanket and breakfast set up. No doubt from Marmaduke. Spring flowers bloomed around them. They were beautiful. Maria could just about imagine Serena eating them to her hearts content. Maria crawled onto the blanket, laid on her back, and spread out her arms. She closed her eyes and let out a shivering breath.

“You should eat?”

“I’m not hungry.”

Birds chirped around them. The wind rustled the trees. She took in another breath. The sounds of nature carried Maria into a daze. From afar she heard Robin humming to himself, it was Loveday’s Waltz.

Then she felt a pang of hunger. She turned to look at the food but couldn’t bring herself to eat. Robin was chewing on a piece of grass as he braided some flowers.

“What are you doing?”

“A flower crown.”

“What for?”

Robin shrugged.

“You should eat.”

Robin stopped and looked at her. “I’m not hungry,” he responded smugly.

Maria rolled her eyes but finally sat up. Robin poured them some tea and Maria placed some biscuits on their plates. She forced herself to eat. Every bite feeling dryer and less appetizing than the previous one, but she knew it was all in her head. Marmaduke’s food had never disappointed her.  

“I should have saved her.”

“There was nothing to save her from. She is one of the lucky few to die from old age.”

Maria’s heart ached, “It was too soon.”

Robin gave her a sad smile, “You’ll never feel like you have enough time.”

“It’s not fair. If only I had noticed beforehand. If I... I just...” Maria sighed. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know how to express or rationalize what she was feeling. Deep down she knew Robin was right. Serena was old and had lived a long, and rather spoiled, life. Still, she felt a deep, throbbing, ache through her heart. An ache that traveled throughout her body and threatened to consume her.

“It’s alright,” Robin took her hand. “You can grieve for the sake of grieving. You don’t need some tragedy or reason to blame yourself. It’s not your fault, and you did everything you could. Blimey, I’ve never seen anyone do so much to keep their pet alive. I know Serena loved you every second of her life and knows how much you did for her.” He pulled her close until she was on his lap. “You miss her. She was your friend. You’ll morn for her absence. You’ll morn for the new memories you wish you could share with her. Its ok to morn, even when a loss was as peaceful as hers. In the arms of someone who loved her so much. Reckon the rest of us would be so lucky to have half as much!”

Maria leaned into his shoulder and the numbness from her morning began to ebb away. She allowed her tears to trickle down her cheeks as she nibbled on her food.

“I want to see her again.”

“Well doubt you’ll want to unbury her. Reckon it’s a ghastly sight.”

Maria smacked his shoulder. “You know what I mean.”

Robin laughed. “It’s a good thing you fought tooth and nail to include her and Wrolf in the family portrait. Though the painter may never forgive you for that.”

Maria chuckled, thinking about the poor painter who was about to lose his mind every time they had to reposition themselves. For some reason or another, either Wrolf, Serena, or her nephew would throw a fit and insist on removing themselves from the portrait. Including her beloved animal companions was difficult, and it was a choice that left her wondering if it had been worth the loss of the family painter. Yet now, she sent a small prayer to the heavens thankful to have that at least.

“Thank you, Robin.” She placed a damp kiss on his cheek.

“My pleasure, princess.”

He finished the flower down and placed it on her head. He studied her and frowned. “Bullocks. It’s too small.”

“I have a better use for it.”

Once their picnic was over, and Maria was in brighter spirits, they walked to Serena’s grave. Maria smiled, seeing new flower buds growing in between their white roses. She draped the flower crown on Serena’s wooden grave marker. “Perfect, it’s just the right size.”

[immergladsss]

Day 1- Tattoo

I got really lucky with this one: In Dear Maria Count Me In  (MoonacreWeek2021), I was going to give Robin a tattoo. BUt I ran out of time in drawing it so I scrapped it for the story. This prompt is making me regret scrapping it but this was the idea I had. 

[immergladsss]

Day 2- Memoriam

Maria sniffled. She felt her throat seize. Her eyes stung. She tried to hold back her tears. She wanted to appear strong. Her family was watching.

She cleared her throat and began the eulogy she had spent all night writing in between tears.  “You were my first friend when I first came to Moonacre.” She said with a small chuckle.

“Without judgement, you heard me, you consoled me. You were with me at all times. Whether it was through the difficult times of breaking Moonacre’s curse or enjoying our afternoon tea out in the sun and eating your favorite biscuits. your eyes spoke volumes to me and you always seemed to know the answer.” Maria’s heart throbbed at the memories. She placed a flower over the makeshift-headstone, quickly engraved on wood. There just hadn’t been enough time to prepare a real headstone, but one would be arriving soon. Robin had commissioned it for her, she just could not bring herself to do it. A tear finally won and trailed down her cheeks as she struggled to continue her speech. “To my dear friend, how I admired your strength and resilience. How I admired your tenacity and intelligence.  Even in the face of death you fought and came out triumphant. You lived a long life, and I am incredibly grateful to have spent it in your company. Though I’ll always wish we had more time.” She clenched a fist over her heart and fell on to her knees. “You sweet, sweet, girl. Your time with us wasn’t long enough. How lucky of heaven to have you for an angel.” Her tears were now freely flowing. “How I miss you so, my dear Serena. I hope I will one day see you again,” Maria cried with pain in her voice.

Robin crouched beside her and placed an arm over her shoulders. He brought her close to him and she began sobbing. One by one, her family came up to the freshly dug grave and dropped a white flower to join hers. She buried her face into Robin’s chest and sobbed for what seemed like hours until only she and Robin were left.

It wasn’t until her eyes were too dry to cry, and her heart was numbed from the pain, that she finally raised her head. Her swollen red eyes met his. “You must think I’m so silly.” She croaked with a forced smile.

“Not at all, Princess,” He said sweetly as he kissed her temple. “After all, it was all thanks to Serena that we first met. I will be forever indebted to her.” His warm lips brushed against hers, sending a jab of warmth into her heart to counter-act the cold numbness she felt.

“Thank you, love. It means so much for you to be here with me.”  

“No need to thank me.” He stood up and pulled Maria by her hand. “Let us go home.” With an arm around her back, they walked quietly together. It pained Robin so much to see the heartbreak on her beautiful face.

It was last week that Serena first began to behave abnormally. Knowing she had far outlived the typical lifespan of a Moonacre Hare, and recognizing the signs of death, Robin expected the worst. He tried to warn Maria, but she denied this. Instead, she concocted a plan to research all that she could on rabbits, hares, and remedies for them. Each day, she and Loveday spent every waking hour preparing and feeding Serena all sorts of concoctions, but with each day Serena grew more and more lethargic. Then two nights ago, she went to sleep in a basket, cradled in Maria’s arms, but never woke up. Maria was devastated. She wept for hours, and continuously checked for a pulse. Until finally her body grew cold and Maria accepted her companion’s death.  

Robin sighed and brought her close to kiss her temple once more. How he wished he could put a smile on her face.

Then a memory jogged his mind. It was a memory of an old joke he used to say when he first became friends with Maria. He would say it anytime he found the hare in her arms or accompanying Maria for some tea. It was a risk, and it could backfire, but he needed to try. Perhaps it was more for his sake than hers, and even selfish of him to think she needed to smile, but when was he ever known for his selflessness?

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, and said, “It’s a shame we buried Serena. I still think she would have made a beautiful pelt.”

Maria smacked his stomach so hard the wind was knocked out of him. He doubled over and struggled to catch his breath.

Maria kept walking ahead of him. “Too soon you oaf!” She said with a glance over her shoulder, but he didn’t miss the hint of a smile in her tear-stained cheeks.

“Worth it,” Robin grinned and ran up to catch up to her.

[awordwasthebeginning]

Moonacre Week 2022

Day 2: Memoriam

Robin avoids setting foot inside the de Noir house, if it’s at all possible.

It’s not that the time here was bad. The house and its inhabitants just have a vibe, and it’s not a vibe Robin is comfortable with. Dulac, and the lads, and Cœur de Noir, they’re at home here, even if not all of them still live here; they have their rooms with the posters and dumbbells and whatnot, with the empty Jack Daniels bottles on the shelves above the desks as the pinnacle of interior design.

Not that Robin doesn’t have those at home, but they’re not…they exist in a different setting, in Robin and Maria’s little flat with the white furniture (Maria has a habit of painting chairs and shelves to de-stress) and the kitchen table covered in scratches and ink spots. It’s just a different setting. Here, Robin feels a bit out of place, waiting for Dulac to show up with the cordless screwdriver Loveday wanted to borrow.

(Why Benjamin Merryweather doesn’t have one she can use, Robin doesn’t know. Maria merey muttered something about ‘the family handyman’ and ‘can you please stop talking about your sister and my cousin and screwdriving’.)

Robin’s phone dings.

Dulac 17:33

Late a few mins

Alright then. Robin moves towards the stairs.

There is a room on the second floor that’s not been touched for a few years. It was Lisette and Rachael’s, whenever they came to London, and neither Cœur, nor Loveday, nor Robin, nor Rachael herself have had the heart to...

It contains a queen-size bed, a large (mostly empty) wardrobe with mirrors on the doors, and an honest-to-God dressing table, an heirloom from some great-great-grandmother, probably. Robin is surprised it’s not still back at the crumbling castle deep in the pine woods.

The cushioned swivel stool at the dressing table creaks when Robin sits down on it and leans forward to wipe some dust off the mirror. A tired face blinks back, dark circles under dark eyes lined with dark eyeliner. It’s smudged, and Robin’s fingers twitch towards the make-up utensils scattered across the tabletop. Brushes, sponges, combs, pencils, powders, lipsticks, perfume bottles – while their mothers had taken most clothes with them, they always had a second set of make-up here. Not worth the bother of carrying back and forth, they had explained.

There is a necklace, too, two parallel thin silver chains and a tinkling pendant made of white pearls and black feathers. Robin picks it up and lets it glide through trembling fingers.

The eyes that look back from the mirror are still tired, but they are Lisette’s eyes. Just like the practicality with which Robin lets the necklace glide into the pocket of the ratty leather jacket is Rachael’s. (‘No one else will wear it, might as well, Robin.’)

The door downstairs bangs shut and Dulac’s heavy steps echo in the hallway as Robin gets up and approaches the stairs.

[awordwasthebeginning]

Moonacre Week 2022

Day 4: LGBTQ+

TW: mention of alcohol and drugs

“Robin, come on, we’ll be late!”

They’ll obviously not be late. The parade doesn’t start until 2pm, but Maria likes to be early and well prepared. Of course she does.

Nevertheless, Robin does her a favour and resorts to wrapping the feather-and-pearl necklace around their wrist. It’s too long to be practical when worn as a necklace, it’ll get caught in the zipper of Robin’s jacket. Or in the flower crown, if they try to pull it over their head.

Maria beams and reaches out with her free hand.

“I’ve been to parades before, you know”, Robin says, amused. “This isn’t Baby’s First Pride.”

“No, but it’s your first Pride with me knowing who you are.” Maria links their arms together and practically skips down the stairs; Robin has to hurry so they don’t fall.

Her excitement would be a bit much, if Robin hadn’t seen her like this for last year’s Pride as well. This way, they know it’s not just because they’re coming with her.

Speaking of.

“Who are you then, by the way?”

With her free hand, Maria tugs her shirt up a bit. There is a temporary tattoo of the pansexual flag on her ribs. Robin’s heart skips a beat. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She pulls her shirt down, brimming with energy. “Come on now – the tube will be absolute hell.”

It is. They get off at Oxford Circus, spilling up into the streets amongst hundreds and thousands of people dressed in all colours and all fabrics (or neither). Flags and whistles and music and the faint smell of weed point the way to the start of the parade. They show their tickets, somehow manage to find a handful of their university colleagues.

The crowd begins to move, slowly, but impossible to stop. Music and noise are coming at them from all sides, people watching and cheering from their windows, several groups singing along. Someone is throwing glitter. It gets stuck in Maria’s curls and adorns her flower crown, reflects thousands of tiny specks of light into Robin’s eyes. The sun is burning down, and the two bottles of cheap champagne someone has been handing round do their part in making them all a bit dizzy. Robin feels light-headed and light-hearted.

“I could fly”, they say when Maria asks how they are.

She lifts their still-linked hands and places a kiss between the pearls and feathers on Robin’s wrist.

Robin might just actually fly.

[awordwasthebeginning]

Moonacre Week 2022

Day 6: Scars

The tattoo is still intact.

One corner of the flag is a bit distorted, but the small scar runs below.

“I hate this”, Maria mutters from where she is perched on the chair in the corner, too far away, watching Robin apply healing salve to it.

“Hm?”

“Hate that it happened. Hate that I made you get that flower crown and wear it. Hate that I dragged you with me that day. You wouldn’t have that scar if –”

“Hey”, Robin says sharply, because all of that is bullshit, and Maria has that damn tendency to take everything on her shoulders and jump off a cliff with it.

“Getting the flower crown was my choice. Wearing it was my choice. Going to Pride wearing it was my choice. I knew the risk, okay? So don’t take away my agency to put the blame on yourself.”

Robin sees her swallow. She nods. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just – stop.”

She nods again. “But – can I do anything?”

Come closer. Stop keeping your distance like you think you’ll hurt me more.

“Kiss it better?” Robin grins.

Maria grimaces. “On that salve? That stuff smells vile.”

“I thought you wanted to help?” Robin hopes she can’t hear their heart hammer against their ribs. They’re lying on the bed, on their side, legs covered by the blanket, shirt off to take care of the scar. Wouldn’t want to get any of the salve on it. It’s…mostly for recovery purposes, truly, but also, well, Robin isn’t lying here like one of her French enbies for nothing.

Maria blushes. “Okay. I’ll try something – tell me if it hurts, will you?”

Robin nearly forgets to nod when she gets up and kneels beside them on the bed. She twists and turns a bit, sits back on one of her legs, places one hand on either side of their upper body.

Maria looks up once more, and when Robin nods, again, she leans down and presses her lips to the tattoo, gently, gently. She blows warm air on the scar below, kisses the tattoo again, and looks up. “Better?”

Robin swallows. Their voice is raspy when they manage to speak. “I think I’m cured.”

“After one treatment?” Maria clearly tries not to sound disappointed.

“Hm, no. You’re right. Better not risk a relapse.”

Maria places a third kiss on the tattoo.

“I seem to recall there was a laceration on your face, Mx de Noir.”

“Hmmm.” Robin smiles at her, their heart hammering still, but for another reason now. “You’d probably better have a look at that, too.”

[awordwasthebeginning]

Moonacre Week 2022

Day 3: Flower crown/s

“I still don’t quite understand what it’s got to do with Pride.”

Maria sighs as she grabs Robin’s wrist and pulls him with her through the clothing stalls. “I told you. It doesn’t have a deeper meaning, it’s about the vibe.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh, come on. Indulge me.” She smiles at him, and thinks that for a split second, Robin actually smiles back.

Then he is scoffing again, rolling his eyes. “The things I do for you, Merryweather.”

Maria stops in front of the florist’s shop she has been heading towards and looks at him. Robin’s tone has been teasing, but he has been a bit reserved lately.

He squeezes her hand and smiles, fully and genuinely this time. “Hey, I’m here, aren’t I?”

Maria squeezes back before they step inside the shop.

The scent is the first sensation that reaches her, that typical scent of a florist’s shop, green and moist and sweet and a bit mouldy. As they walk past a bouquet of lilies, Maria catches a whiff of their perfume-like scent, the one that always reminds her of ripe bananas.

It’s green and humid in the shop and there is the occasional leaf and stem scattered across the floor and the scratched counter. The florist smiles at her. “Ah, Miss Maria! I got the order containing the material for your ideas just this morning, perfectly fresh!”

“No baby’s breath?” she asks with a conspirational smile. Not that it isn’t pretty – but maybe not the right kind of flower for the occasion.

“None at all. Nothing pink, either, and no geranium.”

Maria can see Robin’s grin from the corner of her eye. She knows that he knows about her particular dislike towards pink, geraniums, and pink geraniums.

“Let’s have a look, then, shall we?”

“Please lead the way, Mr Digweed.”

The workshop at the back contains the chaos the front room merely hints at. Petals, leaves, stems cover half the floor. The other half is covered in either soil or water. Buckets filled with twigs or water and plants are lined up along the walls; a tower of precariously stacked empty buckets leans in the corner. One wall is taken in by a huge table littered with half-finished bouquets, more plant parts, and tools – knives, scissors, tongs, secateurs. From the massive cupboard above, ribbons, crepe, wire, and floral foam are threatening to spill onto the surface of the table.

From God knows where, Mr Digweed produces a large plastic box and places it on the least chaotic spot on the table. Maria barely has the time to look at the contents before he makes one, two, three quick picks, and holds them out next to her head. She thinks one of those is rosemary.

“Yes. I think this will work nicely. I’ll add some yellow roses from the garden.” Mr Digweed tilts his head, places the assortment on the table, and turns. “And for you?”

Robin looks like a deer in headlights. “For me?”

“Well, I wasn’t aware Miss Maria would bring a friend, but it’s absolutely no trouble.”

Scratch that, Robin looks positively terrified. Maria puts a hand on his arm. “Hey”, she says. “I know that wasn’t the plan. But it’s just flowers, if you want – and – we’d match?”

Robin takes a deep breath. “It’s Pride, right? Won’t be the strangest thing around.”

“No. And no-one is going to revoke your Man Card for it, really.”

A strange expression flickers across his face, and he lifts one corner of his mouth. “Alright. Why not. But I’m not putting roses in my hair.”

“Oh, no. Yellow is absolutely not your colour, anyway.” The florist turns again, mutters something under his breath, makes another pick.

Maria smiles at Robin, lets her hand slide down his arm a bit, and squeezes his fingers.

 They go for a coffee while Mr Digweed prepares their pieces, take a stroll through the stalls, buy a type of candy Maria absolutely must send to Mama Jane on the nearest occasion, and then they return to the florist’s.

In two white boxes lined with paper – like oversized wedding rings, Maria thinks absurdly for a moment – there are their flower crowns: dark green and yellow, rosemary and roses and sprigs of gorse for Maria; blueish green and white, lavender and chamomile and eucalyptus for Robin. Additional greenery fills the crowns, makes them look sturdy enough to survive a day outside. Maria beams at Mr Digweed.

“They are gorgeous, Mr Digweed, you are brilliant!”

“You like them?”

“I do, I absolutely do –” Maria glances at Robin. He is smiling, more at her than at the crowns, but she lets it count. “Thank you!”

They pay, and part with instructions on how to keep the flowers alive until tomorrow.

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

“All right”, Maria says back at their flat, when they’re sitting at the kitchen table working, each with a mug of tea in front of them. “Spit it out.”

Robin lifts his gaze from his tablet. “Hm?”

“You’ve been meaning to say something all day, I can tell.”

Robin sighs, leans back, runs long fingers through messy curls, stares at the ceiling. “It’s two things.”

“Okay. What’s the first one?”

He stays serious for another moment before a wide grin splits his face. “I can’t believe your florist is called Digweed.”

Maria’s groan is drowned out by his laughter. She rolls her eyes, but finds that she can’t be mad, really. It is funny, and it’s nice to finally see Robin so relaxed, after the restraint he has been exerting all day. “I’m almost afraid to ask what the second thing is.”

Robin sobers up immediately. He draws his shoulders forward, fiddles with one of the dozens of metal applications on his trousers. His voice is small, Maria almost doesn’t hear him say it.

“I’m nonbinary.”

Maria sits there frozen for a second. Robin, nonbinary? How – why – when –

Robin looks up. Stares at her with wide, kohl-rimmed eyes.

Does it matter, really?

She gets up, gives Robin a half-hug, places a kiss on a blushing cheek, and takes both of their empty mugs to the kitchen. “I’m getting another one, you too?”

“Yeah.” A cough. “Please.”

“’kay.” She puts the kettle on. “You want anything with it? Milk, sugar, new pronouns?”

Robin snorts. “Honey, and they/them, please.”

Maria turns her face towards the cupboard to hide her wide, silly grin. She can’t even say why this makes her so happy. Just – the fact that Robin trusts her with this, that they’re still talking about the tea at the same time…it’s another aspect of them living in this flat that makes it even more home. Their home.

“We’re out of honey”, she informs Robin. “But they/them I can do.”

[awordwasthebeginning]

Moonacre Week 2022

Day 7: Wearing their clothes

Maria is perched atop the worktop of the crockery cupboard. The chairs and the table have been moved to the side, and the curtains pulled open as wide as possible. She has considered rolling out a carpet – or several carpets after one another – but that’s where Robin has drawn the line.

“Ready?” comes their voice from their room.

Maria grins. “Absolutely!” she shouts back.

The door at the far end of the hallway opens, and Robin steps out. The first thing Maria sees is the heavy black boot, and she is suddenly glad about the lack of carpets.

Then a bit of bare leg, a knee. And then the skirt.

The pattern of yellow and purple birds and flowers on the dark teal fabric reminds her of the flower crowns. The skirt flows and flutters nicely around their thighs. Robin has matched it with a white shirt and their beloved leather jacket, and they look at her with a bit of insecurity still lurking in their eyes.

“I knew it!” Maria claps her hands together. “Those colours look absolutely perfect with the rest. And the length is just right, it shows off your legs. It’s not too tight?”

Robin shakes their head. “It’s a wrap skirt, no?”

“Still.” Maria hops off the worktop and comes closer. “It was originally made for someone my size. How does it feel?”

“It’s not too tight.” Robin looks down to where the hem ends just above their knees. “You think it makes my legs look good?”

Maria laughs. “Come on. You go running up mountains all the time. You’ve got impressive calves, and you know it.”

Robin grins and takes a few steps into the middle of the kitchen, twists, turns, does a small pirouette insofar as that’s possible with their heavy boots. The skirt twists and turns as well, it flies up a bit, giving Maria a glimpse of equally impressive thighs.

“It feels nice. Breezy.”

“It looks nice.”

“You said.”

“I’ll say it again.”

Robin pulls her into an embrace. “Thank you. For. You know.”

Maria presses a kiss to the corner of their mouth. “Always.”

Then she pulls Robin towards the door. “Ready?”

“Yeah.”

She looks at them, the last bit of worry nagging her. “If someone says something stupid, we can always say we had a bet. Had to swap clothes or something.” She points at herself, at the large black hoodie Robin has lent her. But Robin shakes their head with more vigour.

“We’ll do no such thing. I’m wearing a skirt now.”

“Alright.” She stands on her tiptoes and kisses Robin again, on the mouth, this time. “You’re wearing a skirt, and I love you.”

“We’re stating facts now?” Robin laughs. “Well, then, here’s one: Love you too.”

And then they leave their flat, hand in hand.

[awordwasthebeginning]

Moonacre Week 2022

Day 5: “Let me see”

TW: queerphobia, violence, blood

They’re on the way back from the parade when it happens.

In fact, they’ve almost reached their street, and later on Maria is absurdly glad that they hadn’t turned round their corner yet, because it allows her to cling to the illusion that their street is safe.

Someone, probably drunk, probably fresh out of the pub, yells at them. “Fucking fags! I’m going to fucking kill you!” And tries to do just that by throwing a bottle.

The banality of the action somehow adds to the violence of it. The bottle hits Robin in the head. They stumble against the wall of the house beside them. A sharp hiss escapes their lips, then a wail. Robin drops to the ground.

Maria doesn’t spare a glance for the bloke who yelled at them. He doesn’t come closer. He doesn’t matter.

Robin, though.

There is blood running down from between the dark curls and the silvery lavender stems, red on pale, pale skin.

She kneels beside Robin on the warm tarmac. Tries to move them from their uncomfortable slump against the brick wall –

There is more blood. Maria’s hand comes away wet and red. How –

“Ow – stop –”

Oh, thank the stars, Robin’s awake –

Maria bats their hand away. “You’re bleeding, let me see –”

“Ambulance”, they say between gritted teeth.

“Oh, fuck, yes, of course –”

She fumbles with her phone, manages the call. Presses a bunched-up pride flag against Robin’s ribs.

“’s a screw bar here”, Robin mutters.

Maria glares at the sharp, rusty piece of metal sticking from the wall. This is not going to end like a badly written character arc. Not if she has her way.

The sirens of the ambulance howl loudly enough to drown out her curses and Robin’s pained groans.