Chapter 1: December 1 - Spirit
Chapter Text
Passing through the servants’ corridor, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Daisy Robinson mused on how fast time was flying. That she had arrived at Downton Abbey a couple of months ago, yet it still felt like it happened only yesterday. Although when she started working here, the sun was already up this time in the morning. Now it was still dark. Dark, cold and foggy outside. Daisy hated this weather; it made her want to stay in bed and not get up until next spring. Which she could never actually do, as her job was to wake up the rest of the staff. If she overslept, everyone else did, too, and she couldn’t let that happen.
Once she lit the fires in the Crawleys’ bedrooms, she headed back to wake the servants up. It was almost six o’clock now, and the sun was still nowhere to be seen, making Daisy feel grumpier and more miserable than she already was. And she had a long day ahead.
She started knocking on the doors, when, to her surprise, William Mason emerged from his room on the other end of the corridor, all dressed up and ready for work. The same William, who almost never arrived on time.
“Why are you up so early?” Daisy wondered, finding it rather unusual.
“I just couldn’t sleep,” the footman answered, smiling. It felt out of space in such a grim morning.
“Are you alright?”
“Oh yes, I’m just excited,” he told her.
“What for?”
“It’s going to snow.”
Daisy didn’t understand him. It was December, of course there would be snow! Why would someone be excited for it?
“I know it’s silly,” he admitted, seeing the kitchen maid’s puzzled face. “But snowing in December always wakes up my Christmas spirit. You know, Christmas was always a big deal at home. We used to spend the whole month preparing for it: decorating the house, finding a tree, baking, and things like that.”
As he was speaking, he began to knock on the doors to help Daisy waking the others up. He didn’t want to hold her up, but he did want to talk to her.
“What’s Christmas like at yours?” he asked.
Daisy fell silent at his question, and the only sound was a sleepy groan from the room next to them.
“I’ve never had a proper Christmas,” she finally admitted, feeling uncomfortable and slightly annoyed by having to tell this to Mr Christmas Spirit.
Her words wiped the smile off William’s face, but a moment later, his eyes began to sparkle again.
“Then we can celebrate together!” he burst out, now grinning. “I mean, with the others, as well. We have our Christmas lunch here, and the family sets up a giant tree in the hall,” he told her. “It’s magical.”
“I’m sure it is,” Daisy said, although she wasn’t quite convinced. As someone who hadn’t celebrated Christmas properly, she found William’s excitement a little too early. It was only the first day of December! “But we still have three weeks until then,” she pointed out.
“My mum says it takes time to prepare your soul for it,” he said.
“How do you know it’s going to snow?” She asked, changing the topic. “It doesn’t look like it.”
“I can’t tell, I just feel it,” the footman said with a smile.
He was right: it began snowing early in the afternoon, and by the time Mr Carson rang for dinner, the whole estate was covered in white. Later in the evening, when Daisy was finishing her duties for the day, William walked down to the kitchen, still unable to wipe the smile off his face.
“Are you busy?” he wondered.
“I’ve just finished,” she replied. “Why?”
“I want to show you something,” he said.
They walked up on the back stairs to the top floor, where William led Daisy to the window at the end of the corridor.
“What do you want to show me?” the kitchen maid asked.
“Look out,” the footman said.
It wasn’t a big window, but it had a beautiful view of the gardens and the estate which was now covered in snow. The sight of it made Daisy breathless: the snow was sparkling in the night, reflecting the light of the moon and the stars. The garden looked like someone had put a big soft duvet on it, she thought to herself as she was watching the scenery with eyes widened and mouth dropped open.
“It’s beautiful,” she mumbled, and perhaps for the first time of her life, Daisy felt her own Christmas spirit waking up.
Chapter 2: December 2 - A prince in disguise
Summary:
Maurice has been invited to the Christmas market in Aix-en-Provence, and after some persuasion, he takes Belle and Adam with him. However, things don't run as smoothly as they planned it.
Notes:
I'm a little undecided whether this fic should go with the animated or the live action version of Beauty and the Beast, because although it makes more sense to have Maurice the artist go to a Christmas market than Maurice the inventor, what I saw in y head was more like the animated version. Also, the Christmas market will probably be one of the recurring storylines of this year's challenge, so there might be more of it later.
Chapter Text
“We should have come with my carriage,” the young man said, pulling the blanket tighter around himself.
“But it was you who said you didn’t want anyone know you’re a prince,” the young woman said, then handled him a soft, knitted scarf.
“Back then I didn’t know it would be this cold,” he admitted, wrapping the scarf around his neck. He already had one on, and a wool coat, and a blanket, a knitted hat, a pair of gloves, and another blanket, but he still felt cold.
Maurice let out a sigh. He wasn’t sure it was a good idea to let Belle and Prince Adam come to the Christmas market with him, but as they weren’t very far from Aix-en-Provence where the market took place, there was no turning back now. When Belle first suggested it three months ago, he initially rejected it, as selling in a Christmas market was not a job for a prince. He would have gladly taken Belle with himself, especially now that they didn’t have to bother with housekeeping, but regarding Adam, he was still skeptical, even though the young man was completely different from when he had first met him. Well, he was a beast back then. An actual one, not a metaphorical. He knew how highly Belle was thinking of him or how big was the change he had gone through; they even spent some time together, but he still couldn’t forget his spiteful gaze from that night.
However, as he went preparing for the market and as Belle kept persuading him, Maurice realised that having the boy around could come handy. He could help him unloading the cargo and then pack it up, because he wasn’t that young and strong as he once used to be – partially due to the time he had spent in the castle’s dungeons. Not to mention that this way he could get to know him better and leave the doubts about him behind. Maurice didn’t want to be that kind of father who disliked his daughter’s husband. Been there, done that, it was more than enough, he thought to himself, remembering those hideous dinners he had to sit through at the house of his father-in-law. He didn’t want it to happen again.
The idea of travelling in disguise came from Adam himself. Now that he was human again, he wanted to see more of the world and was curious to see what it would be like standing on his own two feet. Without the castle, without the servants. To everyone’s surprise, this time he didn’t want to be the center of attention, and had he arrived at Aix-en-Provence as an aristocrat, all eyes would have been on him.
That was why he suggested to go with Maurice’s cart, and because it was more suitable for transferring his artefacts than Adam’s carriage. Not to mention that it drew less attention. What he had forgotten about was that on a moving cart it was a lot colder than a standing one. And as he was still having problems with his body heat after losing all the fur, he was freezing.
“Don’t worry,” Maurice assured him. “We’ll be there soon.”
In a few hours they indeed reached Aix-en-Provence, where the Christmas market was already open and people from all over the country were there to sell their products. Belle was looking around in awe and even Adam managed to produce a frozen smile as the smell of gingerbread and fried sausage crept into his nose. They were finally there.
They got accommodation in an inn near the church, alongside other artisans who had come to the fair. The innkeeper, Émile Pontmercy was a friend of Maurice’s – they met on a summer fair, about six years ago. He and his wife were happy to meet Belle and Adam, who, now that they were inside the house, was starting to feel a lot better. However, Madame Pontmercy gasped when the young man was introduced as Belle’s fiancé.
“Oh, I thought you were already married,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”
Belle and Adam exchanged a confused look, not knowing why she was sorry for such thing, but when she took them up to their room, it became clear. Because in the room there were only two beds for the three guests: a single and a double one.
“This trip will be more interesting than I’ve thought,” Adam said, and Maurice couldn’t argue with that.
Chapter 3: December 3 - Invitation
Summary:
Sigrit and Lars receive a Christmas party invitation from someone whom they haven't seen for a while.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
When Lars Erickssong came home from work, he found Sigrit in the kitchen, correcting tests while baking cookies – they were in the oven already, waiting for the baking time to be over. And for Lars to eat them all up.
“Guess what, today I caught dad humming our Christmas song!” he announced, almost beaming with pride. “My dad! Our song!”
As he bent down to give Sigrit a kiss, he spotted a sparkling golden postcard on the table.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“An invitation,” she replied. “To Alexander Lemtov’s exclusive Christmas party.”
“Do they even have Christmas in Russia?” Lars wondered as he picked up the card. “It will be in Edinburgh,” he stated while reading through it.
“There’s one for you, too,” Sigrit said, fishing out another golden envelope under her class’ tests.
“I wonder if he ever realizes that we have the same address,” he said, still reading the invitation. It was nice of him that he had invited them both, Lars thought. They made peace during the finals after all, although he wouldn’t go that far to think of Lemtov as a friend. But almost.
Then he reached the end of the card and forgot it all. “Over my dead body!” he exclaimed.
Sigrit returned to her work, so Lars’ sudden outburst startled her so much that she accidentally drew a long red line on the test in front of her.
“What is it?” she asked.
“It says here ‘I’m looking forward meeting you under the mistletoe, winking emoji,’” he replied.
“I’m sure he wrote this to everyone,” Sigrit said.
Lars quickly tore his envelope open to check the invitation and now he felt he could strangle Alexander Lemtov with a string of Christmas lights.
“No, he didn’t,” he told her. “Mine says ‘Please bring your ugliest sweater – or in your case any of your sweaters will do.’ My sweaters are not ugly! Or are they?” he asked, gesturing towards the chunky green and purple one he was wearing that day.
“Of course not,” Sigrit assured him with a smile. Some people might have called Lars’ colorful sweaters ugly, but she liked them as they were warm and funny – just like Lars himself. When he didn’t behave like a five-year-old. “Shall we go to the party?”
“Do you want to go?” he wondered.
“I haven’t seen Alexander for a while,” Sigrit said. “And you could prove him your sweaters are not that ugly,” she added, when she saw him frowning.
“And we can rub his nose into our super awesome Christmas song,” Lars said. Perhaps that would be the only time when they could perform it live without anyone demanding Ja Ja Ding Dong in the audience. “Well, not into his nose,” he continued, realizing that the metaphor he used wasn’t the best one. “His ears. Into his ears.”
Notes:
Lemtov's Christmas party will be another recurring plotline during the challenge, so this little random chapter was made to introduce it.
Chapter 4: December 4 - Sleigh
Summary:
25 December, 1912. After the Christmas luncheon at Downton Abbey, Robert invites his guests to a sleigh ride around the estate. Matthew finds himself sharing a sleigh with Mary.
Notes:
This chapter was mainly inspired by Episode 10 of Gilmore Girls' second season (The Bracebridge Dinner), when Lorelai orders horse-drawn sleighs and they all ride through Stars Hollow.
Chapter Text
It was Matthew and Isobel Crawley’s first winter in Downton and their first Christmas with Lord Grantham’s family. Which now had become their family, too, as due to James and Patrick Crawley’s tragic death on the Titanic, Matthew got to be the new heir of Downton Abbey, being Lord Grantham’s last living male relative. Even when he hadn’t spent a minute in the village, let alone in the house.
Now they were living in Downton for a couple of months, and Matthew had spent a fair amount of time in the big house, however, he still found the whole inheritance business absurd and unfair. What could a simple solicitor like him do with such an estate and this enormous house? Which looked absolutely stunning covered in snow, he stated in mind when they arrived for the Christmas lunch.
Once they finished eating, Lord Grantham (please, call me Robert) stood up to make an announcement:
“Now, put on your coats and come outside. I have a surprise for you!”
“I hope it’s not an ice statue,” Mary mumbled.
It was something way better. As Robert explained, Lady Grantham had given him the idea as she used to go to sleigh rides back in America, and now that the estate was covered in snow, he ordered sleighs so they could go around and see how beautiful it was in this time of the year.
Four horse-drawn sleighs were waiting in front of the house, each could take two passengers. Robert shared one with Cora, Lady Violet went with Lady Edith, as Isobel and Lady Sybil got so immersed in an interesting discussion about the suffragette movement that they wanted to continue it during the ride. Which left Matthew alone with Lady Mary and an empty sleigh waiting for them. He couldn’t tell if it was just an accident or a desperate try of the family to bring him together with Mary – what he was sure of that it made him feel awkward.
Lady Mary, elegant and graceful in her burgundy winter coat, let out a sigh, rolling her eyes, while Matthew just stood there sheepishly, not knowing what to do or say.
“It seems it’s just the two of us left,” he finally spoke, although he immediately regretted it as it sounded like he wanted to have it like this. But he didn’t.
She had made it clear that she would never marry a solicitor from Manchester, no matter how much it could mean to the family. And he wouldn’t want to marry someone who, one: was pushed at him by the family, and two: who didn’t want to marry him, so that was settled. However, it still felt odd to find themselves alone in a horse-drawn sleigh.
The coachman was looking at them, confused, not being sure what was going on, when Mary let out another sigh.
“Alright, let’s go,” she said. Perhaps he realised that he was as forced into this situation as she was.
She didn’t want to share a sleigh with Matthew, but as the host’s daughter, she didn’t want to be rude to him. That’s why she couldn’t walk away, no matter how much she wanted to. She also knew that it wasn’t his fault – he was as much a victim as herself. She was annoyed by her family, not by him. Why couldn’t they get over the fact that she and Cousin Matthew did not want to be together? She knew that being his wife would be the only way to keep the title and the estate, but she couldn’t marry someone out of duty, could she?
They were sitting in the sleigh in complete silence, watching the snowy scenery that was indeed breathtaking. The untouched white snow on the ground and the frost-covered trees reflecting light of the sun. However, every once in a while Mary found her gaze wandering towards Matthew who was sitting there with his mouth slightly open and eyes sparkling with admiration. What she didn’t notice was that he was also throwing glances at her when she wasn’t looking. And even though she was trying to keep a straight face, she was still touched by the beauty of the estate.
“It’s beautiful,” Matthew said.
“It is, indeed,” Mary agreed.
Then they both fell silent again.
“Listen, Cousin Mary, this wasn’t deliberate,” he spoke, after a short silence, gesturing towards the sleigh. “And I’m sorry if I made you feel like it was.”
“It probably wasn’t from your side,” she said. “Papa must be rubbing his hands together now in anticipation.”
“Then I think we’ll have to disappoint him.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Mary mumbled. “And neither the last.”
“Why, do they regularly make you sit together with suitors?” he wondered, but the thought of her parents’ failed intentions to marry her off got her so angry she didn’t hear it.
“As if I wasn’t capable of choosing a suitable man for myself! I’m not a child, for heaven’s sake!” she burst out, surprising him. “I know what I want.”
Perhaps that was the first time Matthew saw Mary so upset and the first time he could take a look behind her cold and elegant façade. And perhaps he began to understand her a little bit more.
“And what do you want?” he asked, and not just to be polite. For some reason he did want to know the answer.
However, his question made Mary realise where she was and who she was talking to. She felt embarrassed for letting her guard down in front of him – she wasn’t careful enough.
“Well, someone who I’m not forced to sit next to at dinner,” she said, trying to make a joke out of it, although it wasn’t very far from the truth.
“Or in a horse-drawn sleigh,” Matthew added with a small smile.
“You are also forced to sit here, so this doesn’t count,” Mary said.
“Alright then,” he said with a smile.
And perhaps for the first time ever, Lady Mary smiled back at him.
Chapter 5: December 5 - Naughty or nice?
Summary:
After playing Santa Claus in the Christmas celebration at Johnny's school, John Bates decides to reprise his role in the bedroom, but he gets interrupted by his own son. Sets in a modern AU.
Notes:
Despite how much I love the Anna/Bates relationship in Downton Abbey, this is the first time I've written a fic about them. Also, in my country we have Santa Claus coming on the 5th December (and on Christmas we get our presents from Baby Jesus), and I wanted something related to that for this day, so have Mr Bates' attempt to play the Sexy Santa. :)
Chapter Text
“Everything is settled for tomorrow,” Anna Bates stated with a relieved sigh once she managed to put their son in bed.
The tree was downstairs, decorated, the presents were all wrapped, the food was ready to cook, and they just had little Johnny Bates first stage performance as Shepherd #3 in the school’s nativity play. He wasn’t the only family member on stage, as this year it took John to play Santa Claus. Due to his limp, he was easy to recognise, but Anna still found him adorable in the red costume.
“Good,” she heard it from the passage, then John entered the room, wearing the Santa outfit again: the trousers, the coat and the hat – only the beard was missing. “Well, Mrs Bates, were you naughty or nice this year?”
Anna let out a surprised laugh seeing her husband at the door, back in the role of Santa Claus which she found equally funny and sexy. However, before she could say a word, little Johnny walked in, wearing his pyjamas but no slippers.
“Did we put enough biscuits-,” he began, but seeing his father in costume again made him stop. “Daddy, why are you still in costume?”
Anna had to cover her mouth to hold back her laughter, while John was searching for an acceptable explanation, but as nothing came to his mind, he decided to ignore the question.
“Where are your slippers?” he asked instead. “You’ll catch a cold.”
“You aren’t doing this because you want to eat the biscuits, are you?”
“You got me,” John admitted, opening his arms.
“Well, they’re for the real Santa!” the boy said firmly.
“You know what, Johnny? Go downstairs with Daddy and put out some more biscuits if it’s necessary,” Anna suggested, “while I change,” she added, catching John’s eye and smiled at him.
The Christmas preparations exhausted her, but seeing her husband standing at the door asking if she had been naughty or nice aroused her as much as it made her laugh. It was too funny to turn it down, so she decided to play along.
While the boys were downstairs, she did change, although not into her pyjamas, but into a nightgown she kept for special occasions.
“Now young man, off you go,” she heard in the passage. “Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”
“But I haven’t said goodnight to Mummy!” the kid said.
Hearing this, Anna quickly slipped into her bathrobe to hide the nightgown.
“That’s not your pyjamas!” the kid pointed out.
Now Bates was the one to chuckle, seeing her cheeks turning slightly red and her bare calves. His smile grew wider because her outfit was a sign that she was in, so it was worth it embarrassing himself in the Santa costume.
“You were so quick, I couldn’t finish,” Anna said, then she crouched down to kiss her son goodnight.
“Goodnight, Mummy,” the kid said, then he and John walked out of the room.
In a few minutes, John returned, and Anna was waiting for him, still with the bathrobe on, making him wonder if she was wearing anything underneath it.
“Where were we?” he asked, then cleared his throat and straightened his back in order to find his way back to the Sexy Santa role. “So, Mrs Bates, were you naughty and nice?”
A smile touched Anna’s lips and she slowly got up from the bed.
“I thought you’d know that,” she said, slowly walking towards him, with her fingers playing with the belt of the bathrobe. “Don’t you have a list?”
Before he could have answered the question, they heard footsteps outside and Johnny walked into the room again, this time holding the stuffed toy rabbit he was sleeping with.
“What is it now?” John sighed, trying not to sound annoyed.
“Will Santa bring presents to Pascal, too?” he wondered. “He was very nice the whole year.”
“Of course, he will,” Anna assured him with a patient smile. “Now come on, go to sleep, or you’ll be tired all day tomorrow.”
“Will you read me a story?” he asked.
“Only a short one,” Anna said, taking his hand, then she threw an apologetic glance to her husband before leaving the room.
Now that Bates was left alone, he began to regret bringing out the Sexy Santa this night, when Johnny was overly excited about Christmas and Anna was exhausted due to the preparations. On the other hand, when else could he do such thing? He thought he did well in the school celebration, and it would have been fun to continue it in the bedroom. However, it didn’t seem to work out. Perhaps it was a bad idea to initiate it in the first place.
Almost quarter an hour passed, and Anna was still with Johnny, so Bates thought it would be the best to call it off. It was disappointing, but this wasn’t the first time they had to change their plans for the night because of Johnny. He changed into his pyjamas and climbed into the bed. When Anna came back ten minutes later, he was still awake, reading a book.
“He’s asleep now,” she announced, relieved. “At last.”
Then she noticed her husband in bed, wearing his pyjamas. She felt disappointed at the sight, but she understood it, as John was tired, too. He helped her with the preparations at home, and he had to go to the school for the rehearsal and the performance. Accepting that nothing would happen this night, she headed to the wardrobe to change, but then she decided to give it another try.
“Haven’t you seen Santa Claus around here?” she asked.
“He wasn’t sure if it was the right time to visit,” he answered.
“It’s Christmas, what other time he’s supposed to come?” she wondered. “It’s a shame, though. He was very sexy. Do you think there’s a way to get him back here?”
A smile touched John’s lips and he put his book down.
“I think it’s possible,” he said, then he climbed out of his bed. He didn’t have the costume on now, but he could slip back into back into character easier than ever. “So, Mrs Bates, were you naughty or nice?” he asked, for the third time that night.
“Well, you decide,” Anna said, and the bathrobe fell onto the floor.
Chapter 6: December 6 - Fruit cake
Summary:
Miranda decides that this year she won't let her mother choose her Christmas jumper for the ugly sweaters party, so she heads to the mall to find the perfect jumper.
Notes:
In this chapter I've attempted to write in Miranda's self-narrating style and used first person instead of the third one, because I thought that would suit it more, and honestly, I enjoyed it quite a lot.
And to anyone who isn't familiar with the series and reads this: Gordon is actually a grapefruit.
Chapter Text
Well hello to you and a hearty welcome! You cannot see it, but I’m wearing a candy cane hat now. I mean, a hat with stuffed candy canes sewn on it and not one made of actual candy canes, silly!
Now, previously on my life I went to my parents’ house to help them decorating, but I won’t do that again. No-one needs to see her father in nothing but Christmas lights. Urgh!
The decoration of my own flat is going very well, thanks for asking. And yes, I think making Santa hats for fruit friends is a perfectly normal thing. Isn’t it, Gordon?
“Darling, I found you a fabulous Christmas jumper for our party, and by fabulous, I mean that it won’t make you look like a what I call, elephant.”
“It is an elephant, Mum!”
My mother: the only person who can annoy me in less than 30 seconds. She is organizing the Christmas events since the middle of October to have everything prepared for the big day. And she has a Christmas jumper party where everyone has to wear ridiculous Christmas costumes.
“Oh, and the Chesters will be there with their son, Patrick,” she continues, and now I know what’s coming: she’ll try to set me up with a man who is either my cousin, thinks that he is a platypus, or is my cousin AND thinks he is a platypus. “Well, he’s tall and sweaty, but at least you’ll have something in common. Such fun!”
And she laughs. She seriously thinks this is funny. Well, Mum, it’s not!
“Mum, please, I don’t need to be set up again and I…” I begin, but she cuts in:
“Must dash now. I’m meeting Belinda for a what I call, lunch.”
“Everyone calls it lunch. But Mum…”
“Such fun! Such fun! Such fun!” she repeats, not letting me speak, as she walks out of my flat.
I haven’t even had the chance to tell her I don’t need another blind date. I’m perfectly fine on my own. Living alone is the most terrific fun. Seriously, when else could you perform together with Take That or the Spice Girls at Wembley? Or watch the Downton Abbey Christmas Special, skip to the proposal scene and say yes to Matthew Crawley?
Not that I have done that.
Ever.
I’m also perfectly capable of choosing my own Christmas sweater! Once Mum got me one with a mistletoe on it and whoever I stood next to started kissing with someone, saying they’re underneath the mistletoe. Unacceptable! Do you know what actually was underneath that mistletoe? My breasts! And they didn’t kiss at all.
Okay, why are these sweaters so horrible? Lovebirds and reindeer and two kissing snowmen, and now I’m sounding like Julie Andrews. Brown paper packages tied up with strings… Sorry. These are a few of my favourite things. Sorry. Where was I? The snowmen! Is it anatomically possible for two snowmen to kiss? Wouldn’t they stab each other in the face with their carrots?
On the top of that, these sweaters are too small. And if I go to the men’s department, it gets awkward, because the shopkeeper comes asking if I’m looking for something for my boyfriend, and if I say yes, I can’t go to try it on, because that would be weird. Once I told them I had an invisible boyfriend and even took him to the changing rooms. In fact, he might still be around somewhere.
Now you say I could tell them it’s for my dad, but I still won’t be able to try it on, because I can’t say I have an invisible father!
“Miranda! I found the maternity department!” Stevie shouts across the whole shop. Brilliant. Now all the customers are looking at me.
“Dressing again from the kids’ department, are we?” I insult her as I see that the jumper she has chosen for herself is for girls between 11 and 12 years of age.
“Having to play the invisible boyfriend trick, are we?” she insults back.
“Wearing antlers just to look taller, are we?” I won!
Stevie takes off the antlers, then she shows me a jumper with penguins on it, but I can’t hear her, because I spot my invisible boyfriend pointing at the perfect sweater. Oh, thank you, Matthew!
“Stevie, Stevie, Stevie, Stevie!” I exclaim,” “I found it!” Then I go for the knitted jumper with an enormous fruit cake on it. And it’s in my size! Perfect!
“Fruit cake?” my tiny best friend raises a brow.
“Why not? I love fruit cake and now I can be fruit cake! Isn’t it just marvelous?”
Chapter 7: December 7 - Two beasts
Summary:
Having a double bed in their room causes unexpected problems between Maurice and Adam during their trip to the Christmas market.
Notes:
Second installment of the Christmas market storyline: a sequel to Chapter 2.
Chapter Text
Jolly music and excited chitchat was heard in the centre of Aix-en-Provence, the smell of gingerbread and mulled wine filled the air, the people, coming from all over the country, were happily walking through the crowded streets to see the works of artists and artisans, who were trying their best to convince them to buy their products. Except for a small stall towards the end of the street. The paintings and the ornaments sold there were beautiful, but the sellers – two men and a woman – were not in their best mood.
Adam and Maurice weren’t in talking terms since they had to share a bed. Accidentally, Madame Pontmercy had given them a double bed and a single one, which meant that two of them had to share. As Belle and Adam were not married yet and it seemed inappropriate for her and Maurice to sleep together, even though they were related, they didn’t have any other choice. Especially because all the rooms of the inn were already full.
However, sharing a bed turned out to be the worst idea. Neither of them could get a good sleep. Adam wasn’t used to sharing a bed with someone, and Maurice’s constant tossing and turning kept him awake. Not to mention his loud snoring. When he finally fell asleep, Maurice was the one waking up, because it turned out that Adam was still growling in his sleep as a legacy of his beast form. Even though the older man knew it wasn’t deliberate, it still brought back his worst nightmares: being the Beast’s captive again. On the top of that, whenever his feet accidentally touched him, he almost jumped out of bed, as it was as cold as an icicle.
Next morning Belle didn’t notice anything, but the morning after it was clear that something had happened as the two men were grumpier and more tired, as if they hadn’t blinked an eye the night before. It didn’t take her long to figure out it was due to sharing a bed. First, she spoke to the Pontmercys to ask if they could give them another room, but they were still full. Then she suggested to Maurice to go and find another hotel, but he didn’t want to be cross with the innkeepers, so he said no.
As days went by, theirs became the grumpiest stall in the whole market with Adam and Maurice not talking to each other, and Belle trying to solve the problem with the double bed. They reached the lowest point, when Adam started to laugh at a funny dog in the crowd, an Maurice flinched at the sound.
“What’s wrong?” the young man asked.
“Nothing,” the older one replied.
“No, did I do something?” he wondered. “You look like you’re afraid of me.”
And that was it. The last drop.
“Of course, I’m afraid! You put me in the dungeons of your castle and took my daughter!” Maurice burst out.
“I have changed!” Adam defended herself with anger and sadness in his eyes. “I’m a different person now!”
“Not entirely. You still growl into my ears all night.”
“Do I growl in my sleep?” Adam asked, genuinely surprised.
“I had to check if you hadn’t turned back into the Beast last night!”
“And had I?”
“Thank God, no.”
“I’m not a werewolf or a swan princess that is only human when the night falls.”
“Swan princesses don’t make those horrible sounds. They brought back my worst nightmare.”
“I’m surprised you could hear me through your snoring,” Adam said, now clearly being angry, as otherwise he would’ve apologised for scaring Maurice.
“You should be glad that I snore, or else you’d frighten the other guests with your growling.”
“Don’t worry, with your tossing and turning I can’t fall asleep, so I won’t be growling.”
“I toss and turn because your feet are cold! You’re a walking icicle!”
“And you’re a snoring machine!” Now the two men were fighting like Lumiére and Cogsworth on their worst days.
“You scare me to death!”
“And you still can only see me as a Beast!”
“Stop it! Both of you!” Belle cried out. Adam and Maurice got so much into the argument that they forgot about that she was there with them. She heard every word and it hurt her deeply to see the two most important men in her life were fighting like this. When she suggested to come to the Christmas fair together, it was because she wanted them to get to know each other better. Well, they did, but it backfired.
“This can’t go on like this,” she said, then wiped off her tears and ran away without any further explanation.
She knew they would need to find a new room, or a good saw as the last resort, she thought to herself, and if the Pontmercys got cross, she couldn’t care less. It was their fault, after all. However, she wasn’t lucky: all the nearby inns were full, just like the one they were staying in. Perhaps the best would be if she and Adam went home and accept the fact that he and Maurice would never be friends. The castle was big enough for them to keep away from each other, and over time they might come to terms.
“Hello!” a voice calling for her snapped Belle out of her thoughts. It belonged to a young woman who was staying at the Pontmercys’ inn with her husband and her brother. They were selling santons and complete nativity scenes.
“Oh, hello,” Belle said, a little startled, as she was lost in her thoughts.
“It’s Belle, isn’t it?” she asked.
“Yes, and you are…” she began, feeling embarrassed for not remembering her name. She couldn’t recall whether they had been introduced to each other at all.
“Céline. Your neighbour. We’re in the room next to you with my brother and my husband, but honestly, it isn’t very good. We got single beds only, and they are single for a reason. We tried to share it with Jean, but he fell out of it twice,” she told her with a small laugh, drawing a smile on Belle’s face.
“I think we can change that,” she said.
That night the six of them could enjoy a good night sleep.
Chapter 8: December 8 - "Silent Night"
Summary:
Jerry found it odd how sad Adam’s absence had made him, as it wasn’t the first time he had spent Christmas on his own. But it was the first time he felt lonely. Without having a friend nearby, Christmas didn’t even make sense anymore.
Notes:
Just because I've thought it'd be nice to add An American in Paris-chapter, too. And because I love Jerry's friendship with Adam in that movie.
Chapter Text
The small jazz club wasn’t crowded on Christmas Eve. A young man at the piano was playing Christmas carols, three men were chatting at a table, and Jerry Mulligan was putting out his cigarette, sitting at the bar. His neighbor and friend, Adam Cook was having a concert in a fancy hotel at a party for other Americans who were spending their holidays in Paris. He wasn’t very keen on Christmas after all which made Jerry somehow said. He hoped that they would celebrate together, but for Adam Christmas was just like any other day. He didn’t even decorate his flat like Jerry did, who even wanted to buy a pine tree. However, the smallest tree was still far too big for his tiny apartment, so in the end he bought a few branches and decorated them.
He found it odd how sad Adam’s absence had made him, as it wasn’t the first time he had spent Christmas on his own. But it was the first time he felt lonely. Without having a friend nearby, Christmas didn’t even make sense anymore. Being a person who could easily get on well with others, one could have thought Jerry had hundreds of friends everywhere he went. He did have many friends, but only a few could get close to him, and Adam Cook was one of these people.
Jerry emptied his glass then he sat down to the now empty piano and started to play Silent Night, although it was rather just an attempt as he wasn’t playing very well.
“It’s D, not C,” he heard a familiar voice next to him.
Looking up he saw Adam standing by the piano, shaking his head. Seeing his friend, a smile broke out on Jerry’s face.
“Move over,” the musician said, shooing him away from the piano. “You’re ruining the song.”
Jerry happily gave him his seat, and then Adam sat down and despite not being a Christmas person, he played Silent Night in a way everybody in the bar began to listen.
“If they start singing, you’ll have to pay for my drinks all night,” he mumbled, sensing the audience’s attention.
“Why did you come back?” Jerry asked. “I thought you’d be at the party till dawn.”
“It was horrible,” Adam replied. “And I knew you’d be getting drunk somewhere and I couldn’t let you do that. At least not without me,” he added, so he didn’t sound like he was worrying.
He hated to admit it, but in the last few months this idealistic painter got as close to him as he hadn’t been with many people in his life. He had become one of Adam’s best friends, even though he wouldn’t have told it o him, not for all the money in the world. However, hearing his last words, Jerry already knew it.
“Thank you,” he mumbled, placing a hand on his shoulder. Then he looked out at the audience and began to sing: “Silent night, holy night! Shepherds quake at the sight…”
Adam Cook rolled his eyes, but then, like the rest of the club, he joined in.
Chapter 9: December 9 - "We Three Kings"
Summary:
Thomas Barrow isn't very fond of Christmas. For him it's a day of duty and pretense. But what happens when William accidentally plays Thomas' favourite carol?
Notes:
I love the song "We Three Kings" and thus I was wondering how I could add it into this challenge, plus I also wanted to do something with Thomas and that's what came out of it.
Chapter Text
Once he had finished with his tasks, William Mason sat down to the piano and started to play. As it was December, he mostly played Christmas Carols, but no-one really minded that. Except perhaps one person. If William was the Christmas Spirit of Downton Abbey, Thomas Barrow would be his nemesis. For him Christmas was a day of duty and pretense. All the family getting together, giving extra work to the staff, particularly him, as every year there was at least one chap who hadn’t brought his valet with him, so Thomas had to stand in. And the presents, oh God, how much he hated standing in line in the great hall, waiting to get a new set of collars from the Granthams. They were generous, but this was nothing more than a duty to them.
He couldn’t even recall getting a Christmas present as a sign of love and affection instead of politeness and duty. Nor he had anyone around to give presents to. Real ones, not just a couple of nice handkerchiefs bought in the village, but something meaningful, something personal. Like that scarf Miss O’Brien was knitting for her nephew. And although no-one had ever knitted one to him, Thomas didn’t want the scarf, he wanted the meaning of it: He wanted to be important to someone for who he was. He longed for giving and receiving presents, too, for decorating the tree or take a walk in the snow. He wanted it all, but he knew he could never have it. For Thomas, Christmas was a reminder of his loneliness and that was the reason why he hated it so much.
He opened his mouth to tell William to stop playing, but then he recognised the song. It felt like a blow to the head, or rather to the heart. It was We Three Kings, a carol he heard a lot as a child and couldn’t get bored of it. He loved it because it sounded mystic and it had some sadness and joy in it at the same time. In Downton, it was hardly played, as Lady Violet wasn’t quite fond of American songs.
As William was playing the song, he suddenly heard something strange from the table. Looking over, he saw Thomas there, sewing buttons on his livery, with his lips moving. Was he really singing along, or William was just imagining that? He couldn’t believe his eyes and ears. When he sat down to play, some of the housemaids and Ben, the hall boy joined, once or twice even Mrs Hughes and Mrs Patmore, too, but never Thomas.
When he felt William’s eyes on himself, the first footman noticed he was singing. It came so naturally that he didn’t even realised he had started it. When he did, he immediately stopped.
“What are you staring at?” he huffed at the other footman.
“You were singing!” William said, still surprised.
“I didn’t!” Thomas defended himself. “You must have misheard something,” he said, then got up from the table and walked out of the servants’ hall, still angry with himself for letting his guard down for a stupid song.
However, that stupid song didn’t leave him. It was still in his head days after that evening, even if William hadn’t played it ever since. When he was working on his own, he often found himself humming or singing it. However annoying it was at the beginning, Thomas soon began to find it comforting that there still was a tiny part of Christmas that he didn’t hate.
Chapter 10: December 10 - Festive enough
Summary:
After the success of last year's ugly Christmas jumper party, there is another one planned at the Kingsman Headquarters. However, this time Harry Hart wants to decide what he would wear.
Notes:
The first Kingsman chapter of the challenge. It sets in an AU where both Roxy and Merlin are alive.
Besides Harry's struggle to find a jumper that's ugly enough, but leaves his dignity intact, this chapter is related to my Kingsman-Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga Crossover, The Bodyguard. And also to Chapter 3 of this challenge.
Chapter Text
“How about this one?” Harry Hart asked, holding a red cashmere jumper, a very soft and delicate one.
But seeing it, Eggsy Unwin just shook his head.
They were at a shopping mall on a Thursday afternoon, looking for jumpers for this year’s ugly Christmas sweater party. Last year it was so successful, that the Kingsman employees decided to throw another one this year. However, this time Harry insisted to choose his own jumper.
“This has no festive patterns,” the younger agent pointed out.
“It’s red. Isn’t that enough?” Harry pouted.
Eggsy had to make an effort to keep a straight face seeing the sheer desperation on his mentor’s face.
“The point of the ugly jumpers is that they re hideous,” he said, “and this is the most beautiful jumper I’ve ever seen. What do you think of this one?” he asked, showing him a jumper with two kissing snowmen on it.
“No, not this one, please.”
“What’s wrong with it? It’s cute!”
“Well, I don’t think it’s anatomically possible for two snowmen to kiss,” Harry explained. “They’d stab each other in the face with their carrots.”
“Okay,” Eggsy sighed, putting back the jumper. “No snowmen then.”
“I have no problem with snowmen. Only with anatomically incorrect, kissing ones,” Harry said. “Oh, and no reindeer. I insist.”
“This narrows it down a little bit,” Eggsy stated, turning back to the jumpers.
He picked one with Mickey Mouse dressed as Santa Claus, one with a single snowman standing in the snowfall that was made with white pompoms sewn on the front, and a third one with a sloth in a Santa hat.
“How’s it going?” Roxy Morton asked, stepping to him with a basket already full. She went to find some presents, as Merlin didn’t need her help to choose his costume for the party. He was now trying on Christmas hats and reindeer antlers, all without cringing.
“I thought it would be fun, but it’s actually a fucking torture. For both of us,” he replied. “How’s Merlin?”
“Surprisingly fine,” she said. “I even dare to say he’s enjoying himself.”
“Oh my God,” Harry mumbled, almost dropping the jumper he was holding, with his eyes fixed on Roxy’s basket. “I hope this is not for me,” he added.
“What?” Eggsy asked, then Roxy pulled out a fluffy lion onesie of her basket, earning a giggle from her friend. “Oh God.”
“No, no, don’t worry,” she assured Galahad senior. “It’s a Christmas present.”
“Oh, it’s for your Russian client, isn’t it?” Harry asked, visibly relieved.
“Not my client anymore, but yes, it’s for him,” Roxy answered. “I think he’ll like it.”
“So, you’ll go to his party,” Eggsy stated, sounding a bit disappointed.
“Well, he threatened to send his driver to kidnap me, and Tom is such a nice guy, I wouldn’t want to hurt him,” she explained.
“Hey, you can tell me you miss him.”
“As weird as it sounds, he’s my friend. But don’t worry, I’ll be back to your party,” she promised, offering him a smile.
Watching Home Alone and Die Hard and playing stupid games with Eggsy, Harry and Merlin in pyjamas and next day having lunch with Eggsy’s mum and Aunt Rosie? She wouldn’t have missed it for the world!
“How’s the torture going?” Merlin came to them holding a hat forming a chimney with two feet sticking out of it.
“Nice hat,” Roxy said with a smile.
“I think I’ll buy it,” Merlin said, then he noticed the lion onesie. “Oh, Prince Herbert will love this,” he commented.
Seeing Merlin’s horrible hat and the even more horrible onesie, Harry decided to make up his mind.
“Alright, I think I'll try on this one,” he said, picking up a jumper with colourful baubles on it. Perhaps that was the least hideous of all.
“That’s more like it!” Eggsy said, grinning at him.
“Don’t you want to take this one, too?” Merlin asked, holding up the one with the kissing snowmen on it.
“Oh, fuck off,” Harry said.
Chapter 11: December 11 - A happy accident
Summary:
Lady Mary Crawley goes out from the hot ballroom to take some fresh air. What she doesn't notice is that she's now standing under the mistletoe. Sets in 1912.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
London, 1912
Mary Crawley stepped out of the crowded room to get a bit of fresh air, as inside it was unbearably hot, even though the door was open. She went to the window and opened it to take a deep breath of the cold winter air.
It was about two weeks before Christmas, when she, Edith, and Cora came to London to do a bit of shopping, and thanks to Aunt Rosamund, they had been invited to Lord Shoelace’s – or whatever was his name – pre-Christmas ball. When she began to feel cold, she closed the window. She didn’t want to go back yet, but she knew if she stayed outside for much longer, Cora would send Edith after her, or worse: she herself would come to find her. In the end, she decided to stay at the door for a short while, where she could be seen, but she still wasn’t inside the hot ballroom.
She leaned against the doorframe, when at the other end of the passage, Evelyn Napier appeared and that made her stand straight again. They had met during the last London Season, they had already danced on this ball, and Mary found him the most agreeable of all the guests that night.
“Lady Mary!” he exclaimed, smiling at her.
“Hello, Mr Napier,” she greeted him, returning his smile.
He began to walk towards her, but then he noticed something that made him stop halfway through. Looking up, Mary realised she was standing under a small bouquet of mistletoe, hanging far enough from the crowd, but close enough for the chaperones to keep an eye on it. Seeing his smile fading, she quickly stepped away, embarrassed. Even though she wouldn’t have minded meeting Evelyn Napier underneath the mistletoe, she didn’t want to look like she was waiting for him there.
“I didn’t see that thing there,” she admitted. “I know it doesn’t look like it, but you’ve got to believe me.”
She couldn’t tell if he did, but he didn’t run away, which was a good sign.
“I just needed a bit of fresh air,” she told him, feeling hot again, but this time it was due to the embarrassment and perhaps anticipation. Now that he was still there, she began to wonder whether he tried to kiss her. She knew she wouldn’t mind it. And it would be all fine, because they were underneath the mistletoe and seen by Cora and Aunt Rosamund. “If I knew there’s a mistletoe here, I would have stood somewhere else.”
“It’s a pity. It would certainly have boosted my confidence if someone were waiting for me there,” he admitted with a small laugh, and it sounded less awkward than he had expected. “Even more so if it were you,” he added, and his last words drew a smile on Mary’s face.
“If it makes you feel better, I wouldn’t have been waiting for anyone else here,” she said, looking at him from under her eyelashes, hoping he would come closer.
Which he did.
“Well, then I think it’s a rather happy accident, don’t you agree?” he asked, throwing a glance at the mistletoe above them.
“Yes, I agree,” she replied with a flinching stomach as he came even more closer and now was standing right in front of her. She knew he wouldn’t back away now and it excited and scared her at the same time.
He looked into her eyes then his gaze fell to her lips, slightly open, curled up into a smile. And they he leaned forward. Mary wasn’t sure what she should do now, just stood there, watching his face coming closer and closer with his lips slowly puckering up, looking like a duck’s beak. While she was looking like a frightened deer. The thought made her chuckle and she had to turn away, laughing nervously. Surprisingly, he was laughing, too.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she apologised, “it’s just a little awkward.”
“It is, I’m sorry,” he admitted, with his cheeks turning red. “Do you want to stop?”
“No, not at all,” she shook her head, blushing slightly. “Can we try it again?”
“Perhaps you should close your eyes this time,” he suggested.
“Then how do I know you won’t run away?” Mary asked. After I laughed in your face, she added n thoughts, still embarrassed. The only thing more mortifying than this would be being left at the mistletoe while expecting a kiss. No, she couldn’t let that happen.
“I’ll hold your hand,” he said, then to prove it, he took her hand into his.
“Alright then,” Mary said, closing her eyes.
Her heart was beating faster, and her stomach was trembling of nervousness and anticipation as Evelyn Napier leaned to her, and this time without laughing, he gently pressed his lips to hers. They were soft and warm and made her smile into the kiss.
When Mary opened her eyes, he was still there, still holding her hand and smiling at her. Her smile grew wider and she felt her cheeks turning red again, but this time not with embarrassment. Instinctively, she gave his hand a squeeze that made him chuckle.
“Merry Christmas, Lady Mary,” he said.
“Merry Christmas, Mr Napier,” she replied, and only then he let go of her hand and walked back into the ballroom.
Notes:
This was a rather spontaneous idea, although I did want to write an awkward kiss under the mistletoe, but originally I didn't plan to bring Evelyn Napier in it. Then suddenly he just popped into my head, and now here we are.
Chapter 12: December 12 - A star is born
Summary:
Mr Molesley wants to join the cast of Downton's nativity play this Christmas, but things don't go as he planned them.
Notes:
Just because I wanted to write something for Mr Molesley.
Chapter Text
Joseph Molesley was running through the village as fast as he could t get to the church. He was on his way to the meeting for this year’s nativity play, and he was already late. It was all his fault as he spent the last few nights reading and preparing for it, hoping he could get a nice role. A shepherd or maybe one of the Kings. Then this afternoon, feeling a little tired, he sat down in the armchair and closed his eyes for just a minute, and the next time he opened them, the meeting had already started.
How unfortunate, he thought as he put on his coat, especially after he had asked Mr Crawley if he would let him go to rehearsals, and he happily said yes. It relieved Molesley, but also made him sad at the same time, because it meant that Mr Crawley could manage without him. Even though the heir of Lord Grantham had got used to being dressed and helped by him in many other ways, he took every opportunity to do the things by himself, and even though Molesley knew he wasn’t doing it on purpose, it made him feel useless. Which he thought almost as humiliating as being called a thief.
Not ebing used to run this fast, he was breathing heavily when as he entered the church, but there was no-one inside except for Mr Travis the clergyman.
“Good afternoon, Mr Molesley,” he greeted him with a smile. “What can I help you with?”
The valet was still catching his breath and his knees were shaking due to the sudden strain, so he had to lean on a bench, finding hard to speak.
“I… I… came… to the… meeting…. about… the nativity… play,” he finally managed to say.
“The meeting was finished ten minutes ago,” Travis told him.
The valet’s heart sank. So, all the preparation and reading and stress was in vain? When he wanted this so much?
“And aren’t there any roles left?” he asked, giving it a last try.
Travis looked into his notebook, although he knew that all of the parts had been cast. He was about to say no, but his gaze fell on the desperate valet, looking like a child whose candy was taken away, and he made a decision.
“Actually, there is one,” he said. “It’s not a speaking part, but you can still help us with the singing.”
Molesley’s eyes lit up as he heard there was still something for him.
“What is it?” he asked, hoping that it wouldn’t be a sheep or a donkey.
“Well, Mr Molesley, you will be the Star of Betlehem.”
Chapter 13: December 13 - The perfect present
Summary:
One of the biggest perks of working on a Christmas market was the variety of presents to choose from, and that was one of the biggest drawbacks as well. The endless possibility of gifts could make it very hard to decide what to choose.
Notes:
This is the third installment of the Christmas market-storyline; a sequel to Chapter 2 and 7.
Chapter Text
One of the biggest perks of working on a Christmas market was the variety of presents to choose from, and that was one of the biggest drawbacks as well. The endless possibility of gifts could make it very hard to decide what to choose.
Now that he and Maurice were on speaking terms again, Adam could focus on finding a Christmas present for Belle. He was extremely anxious about it as he wanted to give her something she would truly like. The obvious choice would have been a book, but as he wanted to give her something personal, any book just wouldn’t do. At least not on their first Christmas together. So, he went on searching for the perfect present: he checked stalls with ribbons, ornaments, santons, scarves, gloves, hats, and so on, but nothing seemed to be good enough for Belle.
Contrary to Adam, Belle already knew what she would give to him. During the weeks before they had set off to the market, she selected some poems – Adam’s favourites and a few he hadn’t read before -, copied them, and once they were in Aix-en-Provence, she took them to the bookbinder. What she found challenging was to sneak away without him finding out what she was up to which wasn’t easy with a parcel in her hand. Luckily, Maurice had given them enough time to explore the market.
On that afternoon, Belle had just got the now finished book from the bookbinder and was on her way back to their stall, while Adam was also out, still searching. He was walking through the market when something caught his eye: a nice, delicate ring with a blue stone at the goldsmith’s stall. It was a lot simpler than the rings he used to wear and had in the castle, but it made him think about Belle. And he hadn’t given her a ring yet. Back at home he had run through all his rings, but none of them suited her. They were all too big, too heavy and too fancy for her taste, and he wanted to give her something she would actually want to wear. This one with the blue stone was perfect.
He paid for the ring and was about to take the small leather pouch the goldsmith hat put it in, when someone bumped into him on their way through the crowd. A young woman.
“Excuse me,” she apologized, and when she looked up, she almost dropped the parcel she was holding. “Adam?”
Belle couldn’t believe her eyes. Of all the people in this crowded market, she had just run into the person whose Christmas present was right in her hand and she couldn’t hide it anywhere! Luckily, it was wrapped in brown paper, although from its shape, it wasn’t hard to find out what it was.
“My darling, I’ve thought you were back at the stall,” Adam said, feeling even more nervous than she. What if she had seen him paying? What if she had seen the ring?
“I had to run a few errands,” she explained, hoping that the book wouldn’t catch his eye. “And you?”
“Me, too,” Adam said, throwing an apologetic glance at the goldsmith, trying to give him a sign that he would come back for the ring if necessary.
“At the goldsmith’s?” Belle raised a brow, but he could see the smile forming in the corner of her lips. This couldn’t get any worse.
“Er… Lumiére… he asked me to find something nice for Plumette,” he told her. Which was the probably the worst lie he could have come up with, as the footman probably couldn’t afford to buy such things. On the other hand, this was the most believable thing on his mind at the moment.
“And did you find something?” Belle wondered. She felt she would do anything to keep his attention away from the wrapped book.
Adam was wrong; it did get worse. He knew if he said yes, she would want to see it and he would be doomed.
“No, not yet,” he said, although he had no idea how to get out of this situation.
“Do you need help?” she asked, with her eyes already running across the rings and bracelets.
“No, I think I’ll be fine,” he replied.
“What did you have in mind so far?” she wondered.
“Maybe something like that one there,” he said, pointing at the first bracelet his gaze fell on. It was a cuff with green stones on it.
“I don’t think Plumette would wear that,” Belle shook her head. “This one is more like her,” she pointed at a chain bracelet with red stones. “Or those earrings.”
A pair of dangle ones, made of silver and decorated with the same red stones. A smile touched Adam’s lips and he took out his pouch again.
“You’ve convinced me. I’ll take the earrings,” he said.
He paid for them, too and in the small pouch the goldsmith gave him were the pair of earrings for Plumette and the ring for Belle. And he was sure Lumiére would be delighted to have something nice to give to his fiancée. It all ended up better that he had expected it. At least for him.
As they were walking back to Maurice’s stall hand in hand, the now relieved Adam turned to Belle:
“What’s in the brown paper?” he asked.
“Er… Mrs Potts asked me to buy a nice storybook for Chip,” she replied after a short silence. For her, the worst was yet to come.
Chapter 14: December 14 - Snowball
Summary:
On their way to Downton Abbey, Mary and Matthew Crawley engage themselves in a snowball fight.
Notes:
I've had this idea in my head since I started rewatching Downton Abbey in September, although I'm pretty sure I've had a different setting for it back then. Something post-season one, but I can't really remember. Well, this one sets in the winter of 1912/1913.
Chapter Text
Although Lady Mary Crawley preferred to take the car to go to the village in winter, she occasionally liked to walk, especially when there was fresh snow and she could enjoy the scenery. On this day, not long before lunchtime, she was already on her way back to the house, when someone called her name. Turning around she saw Matthew Crawley quickening his steps to catch up with her.
“Hello, Cousin Matthew,” she greeted him with a polite smile. “Are you on the way to our house?” she wondered.
“Yes. Your father wants to talk about something, and he told me to come earlier so we could all have luncheon together,” he said.
Mary’s heart sank and she felt anger rising inside her, seeing how easily Papa seemed to adjust to this new heir and now he was summoning him for everything. Let’s go see the cottages! Let me show you the stables! You must see this old map I found the other day! As if now he would have got the son he always wanted. The son she could have been if she hadn’t been born a girl.
“I see,” she said, trying to keep a straight face, while tears were stinging her eyes which made her even angrier as she didn’t want to show any sign of weakness in front of this man. “Do you still like the snow-covered estate?” she asked, changing the topic and forcing a smile.
“Yes, very much,” he answered. Contrary to hers, Matthew’s smile was genuine. “It’s still breathtaking. And would be a great place for snowball fights,” he added, although he meant to say this more to himself than to her.
“It is, indeed,” Mary agreed, making him turn away from the scenery and look at her.
“Did you used to have snowball fights?” he asked. “Or the daughters of the Earl of Grantham don’t engage themselves in such activities?”
“Of course, we did!” she answered, now in a much lighter mood as she thought back of the battles fought between her and Edith in Downton Abbey’s gardens. “In fact, I was rather good at it.”
“Is there anything you’re not rather good at?” he wondered in a teasing tone, surprising Mary with it.
“You should see my paintings,” she replied, laughing it off, but she was telling the truth: drawing and painting had never been Mary’s forte. In fact, she was terrible at it. Just like a few other things that she didn’t want anyone to know. “How about you? Are you good at snowball fights?”
“Well, I don’t have the best aim, but I’m faster than I look. So yes, I’m not bad at it,” he told her.
“Really?” she asked, throwing a challenging glance at him.
Although it wasn’t very ladylike, Mary found the idea of getting into a snowball fight with Matthew Crawley a good way to relieve the stress and anger caused by the whole inheritance business. It wouldn’t change the situation but hitting him with a few snowballs could bring her a bit of satisfaction.
“Why, do you want to test it?” he asked with his smile growing a little wider. It seemed odd, even inappropriate to have a snowball fight with the Earl of Grantham’s eldest daughter, when both were adults now; on the other hand, the challenge thrilled him. And so did the opportunity to see a new side of Lady Mary.
“Why not?” she asked.
Neither of them could remember who threw the first snowball. What Mary remembered the most was that she had never heard Matthew laugh like this before. It wasn’t that light chuckle he usually made at a witty comment at the dinner table, but it was loud and sharp and honest, and she kind of liked it. As for Matthew, he remembered the sparkle that lit up in Mary’s eyes once the fight started. From that moment she wasn’t the cold and reserved daughter of an earl, only a young woman who enjoyed playing in the snow. Her laughter sounded more sincere than anything she had ever said to him before. And while she was stunning in her evening dresses, too, he had never seen her more beautiful than on that day with her red cheeks, slightly messy hair, and snow on her winter coat.
A snowball hitting his side snapped Matthew out of his thoughts. He bent down to make one for the counterattack, but when he threw it, he missed her.
“Now I see what you mean by not having the best aim,” Mary teased him.
“But you have yet to see how fast I can be,” he said then he began to chase her.
However, as it wasn’t very easy to run in the snow in those walking skirts, Mary tripped and fell over, just before he could have caught her. Matthew’s smile faded away as he stepped closer to help her up.
“Lady Mary are you alright?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m fine,” she replied, sounding serious, although the sparkle was still there in her eyes.
And as Matthew held out his hand to help her up, she pulled him down to the ground next to herself, laughing.
“You…” he began, trying to keep a serious face, but he wasn’t actually cross with her. After all, it was his fault that she fell, since he started chasing her.
As their eyes met, both burst out laughing again. They didn’t notice that Robert Crawley was watching them from the window, smiling.
Chapter 15: December 15 - Reindeer and mistletoes
Summary:
Lars and Sigrit arrive to Lemtov's Christmas party, where he declares a war against mistletoes with an unexpected ally.
Notes:
So, this is another recurring storyline for this year's challenge: Alexander Lemtov's Christmas party. It's a sequel to Chapter 3 and 10, and it's also related to another Eurovision-themed fanfic of mine, Golden Boys in which Lars and Lemtov have a dance-off to Nadav Guedj's Golden Boy (You can read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26395840)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
When Lars Erickssong and Sigrit Ericksdóttir arrived at Lemtov’s mansion in Edinburgh, a young man, dressed as Santa Claus’ elf, opened the car’s door for them. There were fairy lights in almost every window and the two Icelanders saw the silhouette of a gigantic Christmas tree inside. In the house all the guests were wearing Christmas costumes of all kinds: reindeer antlers, festive sweaters, turkey hats, elf, regular, and sexy Santa costumes. Both Lars and Sigrit opted for sweaters: he had a fully decorated Christmas tree on his, with flashing LED lights, while Sigrit’s looked like an elf’s uniform, and she wore red baubles as earrings.
The first familiar face they saw was Vladimir, one of Lemtov’s background dancers, in a Santa hat and a sweater with two kissing snowmen on it. Noticing Fire Saga in the house, he slid off his stool and went to greet them.
“Hello Iceland! Merry Christmas! I thought you wouldn’t come,” he said.
“Our reindeer were quite slow,” Lars told him, clearly joking. However, Vladimir didn’t seem to get it.
“Really? And where did you park them?” he asked.
“The guys outside took them into the stables,” Lars replied.
“Oh, cool,” Vladimir said with a nod then he headed back to the bar. “Come I’ll get you a drink!”
“I’m not sure he knows you were joking,” Sigrit whispered to Lars as they followed the Russian.
“I think he was just playing along,” he whispered back.
“Nice sweaters, by the way,” Vladimir complimented.
“Yours, too,” Sigrit replied. “Are those snowmen on it?”
“Yes.”
“Is it anatomically possible for two snowmen to kiss?” Lars mused. “Shouldn’t they stab each other in the face with their carrots?”
“Never thought of that,” the dancer admitted.
At the bar they met Aleksey, another one of Lemtov’s background dancers and Kevin Swain who had matching sweaters, and while they were waiting for their welcome drink (hot chocolate with marshmallow and a lot of rum), Mita Xenakis came to greet them, too, in a sequined, bodycon Mrs Santa dress.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t come,” she admitted, giving both Icelanders a big hug. “I’ve heard your Christmas song, it’s wonderful! Alexander loved it, too. Not as much as his own song, but you know what’s he like,” she added, while her eyes were searching for the host in the crowd. When she spotted him, she shouted across the drawing room to get his attention.
A wide grin broke out on Alexander Lemtov’s face when he noticed the members o Fire Saga at the bar with Mita and Vladimir.
“Sigrit! Lars! I’m so glad you’re finally here!” he greeted them.
He looked stunning in his tailor-made Santa suit which he wore with a Santa hat and without a shirt. On the lapel of his jacket he had a gold sleigh brooch – a nod to his Christmas song that was titled Sleigh Ride.
“I wasn’t sure you would come,” he told them.
“Our reindeer were quite slow,” Lars said. Unlike his background dancer, Lemtov seemed to get the joke: he laughed a little.
“They were taken to the stables,” Vladimir added, which clearly puzzled the other Russian.
“We don’t have stables,” Lemtov told him.
Now Vladimir was the confused one, then he started laughing quite awkwardly, realising that it was a joke and there were no reindeer involved. Sigrit shook her head at Lars then threw an apologetic glance at the Russian dancer.
“What? I’ve thought he got the joke!” Lars whispered.
“You look great!” Sigrit turned to Lemtov.
“You, too! Very sexy elf sweater,” he complimented on Sigrit’s outfit, making Lars choke on his hot chocolate. “And Lars… you never disappoint,” Lemtov continued, gesturing towards the Icelander’s Christmas tree jumper.
The male half of Fire Saga forced a smile and regretted not choosing his ‘Merry Christmas ya filthy animal’-sweater instead of the one he was wearing now. It would have fitted the occasion a lot better.
“Come, I’ll show you the decorations,” Lemtov said, placing a hand on Sigrit’s arm. “And be careful, there might be mistletoes around,” he added, with that smug smile that annoyed Lars more than a pair of tangled earphones.
He couldn’t help thinking of the invitation the Russian had sent to her, hoping that they would meet under the mistletoe. He knew he had to stop this and now he had a plan. He took a large sip of his hot chocolate, then excused himself saying he needed to use the toilet.
However, he didn’t go there. Instead, he took a tour in the house, searching for mistletoes, and whenever he found one, he took it down. Even if he had to stand on chairs or tables to reach them. He was on the passage of the first floor, trying to reach one small bouquet with a floor brush he took from the bathroom, when Lemtov’s third background dancer stepped to him.
“Hello Lars,” he greeted him.
“Hello Nikolay,” he replied, being so engaged in getting down the mistletoe that it took him a while to realise whom he was talking to. And when it happened, he almost dropped the brush. “This is not what it looks like!” he said. “I’m just cleaning off cobwebs.”
“Cobwebs? On a dark passage? At eight in the evening?” the dancer raised a brow.
“I just really hate spiders,” Lars told him.
“It looked like you were trying to take down the mistletoe.
“No, no, no,” Lars replied, shaking his head. “It never entered my mind. Ever.”
“Too bad,” Nikolaj said. “Because I just wanted to tell you where you can find a ladder. I would have even helped you get rid of them.”
“Why?” the Icelander wondered.
Then he glanced at Nikolay’s Christmas sweater with the words ‘My wife bought me this sweater’ and snowflakes on it, and he suddenly got it.
“OK, you got me,” he admitted.
“Let’s do this,” said the Russian dancer with a determined look.
About half an hour later, Lars found Sigrit on the dance floor with Lemtov, Mita, and other Eurovision people.
“You’ve been away for a long time. Are you OK?” Sigrit asked.
“I got a bit lost,” he answered. “This house is very big! But I came found my way back, so everything’s fine now,” he assured her.
“Good,” Sigrit said, gently stroking his arm.
Then danced on for a while, joined by Nikolay and Ilya, Lemtov’s fourth background dancer, when the DJ thought it would be a good idea to put on Golden Boy by Nadav Guedj.
Oh, how wrong he was!
When the song started, Lars’ eyes met Lemtov’s. They both remembered well what had happened the last time they heard this song. A smile touched the Icelander’s lips.
“Round two?” he asked.
Alexander Lemtov smiled back, opening his arms as a sign that he was ready.
“Oh no, not again,” Sigrit mumbled.
Notes:
Originally, I wanted to introduce Lemtov's background dancers in The Bodyguard, but I haven't got to type in that chapter yet, so this is their official introduction. Although 'introducing' might not be the best word for it, as we could see them in the movie, but we didn't really know anything about them, so I gave them names and a bit of a backstory. In this chapter mostly their names are mentioned, and a little additional information ( there will be more about them in The Bodyguard ;) ).
Chapter 16: December 16 - First Christmas
Summary:
After Sybil's death, to Tom Branson, Christmas doesn't make sense anymore, but then he shows the Christmas tree in the hall to his daughter.
Chapter Text
Tom Branson didn’t think that after Sybil’s death celebrating anything would ever make sense, especially Christmas. It used to be her favourite holiday, so much that Mary called Sybil the Christmas Spirit of the house: the first one to start the preparation and the saddest one when the ornaments were taken off the enormous pine tree in the hall. The William of upstairs, Tom thought with a wrenching heart, remembering that he was dead as well.
He and Sybil could only spend one Christmas together – technically, it was at least four Christmases, as she was always there when Lord and Lady Grantham gave their presents to the staff, but it was last year only when they could celebrate as husband and wife. And while she was gone, Christmas was here, but what was the point of it without her? – he thought with teary eyes, looking up at the gigantic pine tree, decorated with tinsel, baubles and other figurine ornaments.
“Don’t you want to show Sybbie the tree?” Matthew asked, snapping Tom out of his thoughts. “I think she’d enjoy it.”
“Not sure how much she would understand of it,” he replied. “She’s only a few months old!”
“Perhaps only that it’s big and sparkling,” Matthew admitted. “And I’ve heard that the Nanny West wants to bring her down, too.”
That hit him.
“No, I’ll do it,” he said then headed to the nursery.
If anyone, it should be him who showed the Christmas tree to Sybbie. And he would teach her all the carols he had learned from his parents and the one they sang with Sybil last year. He quickened his steps; he was almost running upstairs.
Entering the nursery, Sybbie welcomed him with a happy coo.
“Come, darling, I’ll show you something,” he said as he picked her up and carried her downstairs.
Seeing the enormous, decorated tree, Sybbie let out an excited cackle and held out her little hand wanting to go closer, to touch it. And as Tom stood there in the hall, holding his daughter in his arms, Christmas began to make sense again.
Chapter 17: December 17 - Miracle
Summary:
On her way to her room on Christmas Eve, Mrs Hughes finds Mr Carson decorating the Christmas tree in the servants' hall.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It was past midnight when Elsie Hughes left her sitting room on Christmas Eve after making sure they had all the crackers and additional decoration for the servants’ luncheon next day. To her surprise, the servants’ hall wasn’t empty yet. Mr Carson was still there, decorating a small pine tree in the corner. Like Father Christmas dressed in white tie, she stated in mind and the thought drew a smile on her face.
“I’ve thought you were already upstairs,” she said.
The butler startled at her voice, as he wasn’t expecting anyone to be around at this hour.
“I’m sorry, Mrs Hughes, I’ve thought the same about you,” he apologised, visibly relieved that it was her who had found him there and not someone else.
“Shouldn’t the maids do this?” the housekeeper wondered, gesturing towards the tree.
“No, I’d like to do it,” Carson replied. “It’s nice to see their surprised faces in the morning when they come down.”
And even though he had never seen Daisy’s or the hall boy’s face as they came down very early in the morning, he always found it hard to keep a straight face when the rest of the staff entered the servants’ hall and found a fully decorated Christmas tree there. It was even harder when they began to guess who could have put it there as the night before that corner was empty. The servants working there for a longer time most probably had found it out already, but even if they had, they never gave him away.
“That’s quite a change after what you said this afternoon,” the housekeeper said, referring to the lecture he gave to the younger staff members, reminding them that despite they only had to serve at breakfast and dinner, Christmas would be like another working day.
“I meant that,” Carson said, “and I still do. But I also think everyone deserves a bit of a Christmas miracle.”
“I quite agree with that,” Mrs Hughes smiled. “Do you need any help?”
Carson hesitated. Decorating the tree was something he usually did alone – it was his own Christmas surprise to the staff; on the other hand, it was already late at night and he was getting tired. He knew if he ever shared this task with someone, it could only be Mrs Hughes.
“I’d certainly appreciate it, Mrs Hughes,” he said, stepping aside to give her some space by the tree.
The housekeeper joined him and began to hang the ornaments to the branches. They worked in silence for a while, when Carson started to speak again.
“You know, I wouldn’t let anyone else do it,” he said, offering her a smile.
“Yes, Mr Carson, I do,” she replied, smiling back at him as they continued decorating the tree.
Notes:
I'm still a bit afraid that it's a little out of character for Carson to surprise the staff with a Christmas tree, but on the other hand, I can totally imagine him doing such thing.
Chapter 18: December 18 - Three's a crowd
Summary:
After the rather shocking Christmas performance by Lemtov's background dancers, Roxy and Mita accidentally find the only untouched mistletoe in the house.
Notes:
Fourth installment of the Lemtov's Christmas party-storyline; related to Chapter 3, 10 and 15.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Roxy Morton just shook her head and laughed when she saw the young men dressed as elves outside Alexander Lemtov’s Edinburgh mansion. She wasn’t the least bit surprised at the sight. Nor at the excessive and extreme decoration and neither at the numerous Sexy Santa costumes she saw while passing through the hall. What set her off was seeing Lemtov’s four naked statues, now wearing Santa hats and knitted scarves, but nothing else.
“Oh God, these statues,” she mumbled. She was sure that even if she had to live in this house forever, she would still be unable to get used to them.
“Got a problem with them?” she heard a familiar voice from behind and turning around she saw Alexander Lemtov in a red Santa suit and a wide grin on his face. “Hello Kevin.”
“Hello Whitney,” she said, returning his grin.
Their greeting was a nod to the film The Bodyguard in which Whitney Houston played a singer and Kevin Costner had the role of her bodyguard, and during the latest Eurovision Song Contest, Roxy was assigned to look after Lemtov after he had received numerous death threats.
“Smart, as usual,” he stated once they hugged each other.
“Shirtless, as usual,” she said.
“No, really, where is your sexy Christmas outfit?” he asked, as Roxy was wearing her bespoke gray suit jacket with a pair of jeans.
“It’s just a regular Christmas outfit,” she replied, knowing that she and Lemtov had quite different opinions about what was sexy. “And it’s in my bag.”
“Okay, go upstairs and change, I’ll get you a drink in the meantime,” he said, gesturing towards the staircase.
However, Roxy didn’t go right away.
“Never thought I’d say that, but I missed you,” she admitted, allowing herself to be sentimental for a moment. It was Christmas after all.
A smile touched Lemtov’s lips.
“I missed you, too,” he said with a nod. “Now go before I get emotional,” he added shooing her away, not wanting her to see he was touched by her words.
Once she had changed into a red dress and put on a Santa hat, Roxy returned to the party. Downstairs she reunited with his ex-client and his four background dancers, Nikolay, Aleksey, Vladimir and Ilya, all wearing knitted Christmas sweaters. However, Lemtov soon left them to check on his guests. The four Russians seemed quite excited for something, but whenever Roxy asked them what it was, they told her with a mysterious smile that it would be a surprise. Or a shock, the Kingsman agent thought to herself.
During their chat Roxy had to admit that Lemtov wasn’t the only one she missed. However, she changed her mind when not long before midnight, the four Russian disappeared and the next time she saw them, they were in the middle of the drawing room, dressed as Santa Claus with the beard and everything. Then to a medley of Christmas songs from Santa Claus is Coming to Town to All I Want for Christmas is You, following an elaborate dance routine by Aleksey, they took off the beard, and the belt, and the coat, and a T-shirt, and the pants, until they were only wearing the hat and a pair of glittery red thongs. Then those came off as well and only the hat was left on. So, Vladimir’s stripper business had kicked off, after all, Roxy stated in mind, being shocked by the performance.
“I never thought this day would come, but I think Santa is now ruined to me,” Lars Erickssong said as she and Sigrit joined the queue at the bar where everybody else wanted to rinse off this Stripper Santa session.
“At least they were enthusiastic,” Sigrit said, trying to save the day, although she looked rather shocked as well.
About an hour later Roxy was on her way back from the bathroom, when on the passage she ran into Mita Xenakis.
“If you need the loo, there’s a queue in that one,” she told her, gesturing backwards.
The Greek woman, however, had her eyes on something above them and a smile was forming in the corner of her lips. It seemed Nikolay couldn’t take down all the mistletoes, she thought to herself, being unaware that it was actually Lars’ idea.
Looking up, Roxy felt her cheeks turning red and thoughts began to race in her head. she knew the tradition well and she could tell Mita wouldn’t mind kissing her, but would she mind it? She had never kissed a girl before and she knew she would be lying if she said the thought of what it would be like had never crossed her mind. As far as she knew Mita, she probably wouldn’t make a fuss out of it, but then what if it gets awkward? Could this ruin their friendship?
However, before anything could have happened, they were joined by Lemtov who didn’t seem to notice anything.
“Hey girls, what’s up?” he asked, putting his arms around their shoulders. “How did you like my boys’ newest number?”
“We found the only intact mistletoe,” Mita announced, pointing upwards.
“Oh, great!” Lemtov commented with a wide smile and seeing that, Roxy started to feel even more uncomfortable. “You know what this means, don’t you?” he teased them.
“That we should get a ladder,” Roxy said before Mita could reply. She still couldn’t take it very well when the two Eurovision contestants were trying to push her out of her comfort zone.
“Come on, you’re even too British for a British tradition!” Lemtov laughed.
“Well, the traditional setting is actually two people,” Roxy pointed it out, “not three.”
It seemed she struck a chord with that, because the Russian smiled and said: “Okay, I’ll leave you to it.” Then, before stepping away, he kissed both women on the cheek to be faithful to the tradition. “Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he added.
“There’s no such thing,” Mita teased him.
“Quite true,” he said walking away.
When they were left on their own, Roxy realised that what she had said earlier was basically giving the green lights to Mita. It made her feel anxious again as at this point it would be quite rude if she backed off. Although she wasn’t sure she wanted to.
“Is this okay for you?” Mita asked.
“What if it gets awkward afterwards?” Roxy wondered.
“Stranger things have happened at sea,” the Greek woman assured her.
Roxy swallowed hard and then nodded her head. It’s just one kiss. Under the mistletoe. It cannot hurt.
“Alright then.”
Roxy saw a smile touching Mita’s lips before she closed her eyes. She tasted like hot chocolate with rum and her hand cupping the agent’s face was very smooth. When they broke apart, Roxy found herself smiling.
“Tell me something,” Mita began after a short silence, making Roxy’s stomach jump of anxiety as a few possible questions started popping up in her mind: Why were you so nervous? What was all that fuss about? “Is your lip balm a secret Kingsman thing?” she asked.
“No, it’s from Boots,” Roxy answered, relieved.
“Thank God,” the Greek woman sighed and they both started laughing.
And it didn’t feel awkward at all.
Notes:
Honestly, I was quite unsure about this chapter, because I mostly write hetero pairings (that's what I'm the most comfortable with), but I lowkey ship Roxy and Mita, so I thought it could be interesting if they met under the mistletoe.
Chapter 19: December 19 - A secret admirer
Summary:
Returning to her room on Christmas Day after work, Anna finds two presents on her bed: one of them is from Gwen, but who sent the other one?
Notes:
Originally, I wanted to write something completely different for this day, but my mind went blank on the idea, so in the end I decided to write something with Anna and Gwen as I loved their friendship in Season 1.
Chapter Text
Despite they didn’t have to serve at luncheon, Christmas was still one of the longest days of the year. But it was worth it, Anna thought walking through the women’s passage after attending Lady Mary before going to bed. Lady Edith and Lady Sybil had gone upstairs earlier.
The servants’ luncheon that day was nice and festive, except for the part when William almost went upstairs with his paper crown still on his head and was told off by Mr Carson. But Mr Branson had come over from his cottage which was a pleasant surprise as he didn’t eat with them very often.
When she entered her room, Gwen was already in bed, reading. A smile touched Anna’s lips noticing that it was the book she had given her as a Christmas present.
“I found something for you under the tree downstairs,” Gwen announced, looking up from the book.
Indeed, there were two gifts on her pillow: a small box and something wrapped in green paper.
“From who?” she asked, genuinely surprised. She had got all her presents and wasn’t expecting any more.
“The green one is from me,” Gwen told her, climbing out of bed, “but I have no idea about the other one. I’ve thought you’d know.”
“I don’t,” she admitted with a fluttering heart, having to make an effort to stop hoping it was from him. Perhaps it was a mistake, and the present was for someone else. However, it was her name on the gift tag and there were no other Annas in the staff right now.
“You might have a secret admirer,” Gwen said with a small smile, now standing next to her.
“Of course,” Anna chuckled. “And who it might be?”
“I don’t know. Mr Molesley?” the other housemaid wondered.
“No, I’m sure it’s not him. He already sent me a card,” Anna said, hoping that the present was indeed not from Mr Crawley’s butler.
“Won’t you open it?”
“I’ll start with yours first,” Anna said, picking up the one wrapped in green.
“Keep me in the dark,” Gwen teased her, although she wanted to know whether Anna liked her present.
The head housemaid gasped as she revealed a warm, crocheted shawl in a grayish blue colour.
“Just because you’re always cold up here,” Gwen said, beaming as she saw how touched her friend was by the thoughtful present.
“Gwen! You shouldn’t have…” Anna said. “It must have been a lot of work.”
“Oh no, it wasn’t that much, really. I did it while you were attending Lady Sybil and the others,” she told her.
“Thank you so much,” Anna said, opening her arms for a hug.
“Merry Christmas,” the other housemaid said, stepping into it.
Anna then wrapped the shawl around her shoulders. It was nice and warm. She threw a grateful glance at Gwen; whose mind was already on the small box.
“Now, open the other one,” she said, curiously.
“Alright, alright,” Anna said, sounding a lot calmer than she actually was as she untied the bow and opened the box.
Inside there were two Christmas ornaments: an angel made of straw and a baby Jesus cradled in a walnut shell.
“These are quite nice,” Gwen commented. “Do you know who sent them?”
Anna remembered that about two weeks ago she ran into Mr Bates while she was out in Ripon and they saw ornaments like these on the Christmas tree at the bookshop’s window and she told him how much she liked them. Now she knew who had given her this present. However, she couldn’t make herself to say it out loud.
“A friend,” she said instead, and now she was the one beaming.
“Oh, I see,” Gwen smiled, gently squeezing her friend’s shoulder before she headed back to her bed. She knew Anna enough to figure out who that friend could be, but as the other housemaid preferred to keep it as a secret, she decided not to reveal it.
Meanwhile, in the bachelor’s passage, John Bates was opening a small box with a thimble and a new set of needles. And there was also a pack of dried fruits and nuts. “Father Christmas knows you lost yours,” said the note, and although there was no signature on it, he knew very well who it was from.
Chapter 20: December 20 - Outcasts
Summary:
Matthew Crawley cannot find a place to go on Christmas morning, as in every room there is someone wrapping presents.
Notes:
This one was inspired by a deleted scene from the Christmas Special of 2011 in which Matthew walks into the drawing room where Cora and O'Brien are wrapping presents, and seeing him they start to scream. I know this chapter is quite exaggerated (and probably wouldn't have happened), but it's all deliberate.
Chapter Text
Downton, 1919
“Matthew, darling, why don’t you go over the big house? I still have to finish wrapping my presents,” Isobel Crawley said when Matthew sat down with the puzzle section of the newspaper in the drawing room on Christmas day.
They decorated the tree the evening before, and since Matthew had already wrapped his presents, he didn’t really have anything to do.
“Do you want me to help?” he offered, although he knew his mother would say no as he was notoriously bad at gift-wrapping.
“No, no, don’t worry, I’ll do it,” she assured him. “Just tell Cora I’ll be a little late.”
Then she shooed her only son out of the drawing room with a roll of wrapping paper.
Downton Abbey was surprisingly quiet when Matthew arrived. On his way to the library, he stopped to admire the gigantic tree at the hall. Despite having spent several Christmases at the house, he was still impressed by the size of the tree and the amount of ornaments it was decorated with. He wondered how long it could have taken the servants and the family to hang everything on it.
When Matthew entered the library, Lady Edith jumped up from the sofa quite startled. On the floor he could see pieces of wrapping paper.
“Hello Cousin Matthew,” Edith greeted him with an awkward smile. “Would you mind coming back a little later?” she asked. “I’m not finished yet.”
“Of course, I’m sorry,” he apologized then walked out.
He headed to the drawing room; however, walking in, he found Cora and Miss O’Brien kneeling on the floor, surrounded by wrapping paper. When the two women saw him, they started screaming as if he had walked in on them while getting dressed. He went out, apologising, being a little shocked by their reaction.
Now he was about to enter the dining room when he heard a familiar voice from behind:
“I wouldn’t go there if I were you,” the Dowager Countess said, passing through the hall. “Lady Mary is wrapping presents with Carson and it’s not what I’d call a pleasant sight,” she added as she walked to the drawing room’s door.
“Cousin Violet, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea,” he said, seeing her hand on the doorknob. Cora’s scream was still echoing in his head.
“Don’t you worry about me,” Violet said, “there’s nothing inside I haven’t already seen.”
Then she walked inside, leaving Matthew on his own. Brilliant, he thought to himself, realising that he had nowhere to go as in every room there was someone wrapping presents. Having no other choice, he took his coat and walked outside. At the bench by the tree he found a rather gloomy Robert, absent-mindedly petting Isis, his Labrador retriever.
“Hello Robert,” Matthew greeted him with a small smile. Seeing him, Isis got up to greet him, wagging her tail.
“My old chap,” Robert said, and they shook hands. “Have you been to the house yet?” he asked.
“I have,” Matthew answered as he petted the dog as a greeting.
“So, they’re still not finished,” Robert stated.
“No.”
“Oh God,” the Earl of Grantham sighed, then he picked up a stick and threw it away for Isis, as he realised they would be out there for quite some time.
The two men watched Isis searching for the stick in the grass. Due to that they didn’t notice Sir Richard Carlisle storming out of the house.
Chapter 21: December 21 - "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen"
Summary:
Harry Hart hadn't even had a Christmas tree before he started training Eggsy; he didn't even celebrate Christmas. The closest thing they had was drinking a glass of Scotch and singing "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" with the other Kingsman agents. Well, now Harry has a tree, but there are things that still haven't changed.
Notes:
This chapter was prompted by rogueholmes on Tumblr, and this is the only "pure" Kingsman installment of the challenge (I mean that it doesn't have any reference to The Bodyguard), although timeline-wise it can still be linked to the Chapters 3, 10, 15 and 18.
Oh, and the Kigsman agents singing "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" together is entirely a headcanon.
Chapter Text
Harry Hart was sitting in the armchair with a now empty glass in his hand, watching the lit-up Christmas tree standing in the corner. How easily one gets used to things, he thought with a small smile. Now having the tree wasn’t a new thing for him, but the first year he shot it once, as coming down for a glass of water, he mistook it to an intruder. All he could see was an unfamiliar shadow that didn’t answer his questions, so he thought it would be safer to shoot.
He had never had a Christmas tree before he started training Eggsy. He didn’t even celebrate Christmas back then. He watched the Queen’s speech on the telly, but that was it. No tree, no turkey, no presents – he didn’t really have anyone to give gifts to. Of course, he had the other Kingsman agents, too, but with them Christmas celebration meant having a glass of Scotch together and singing God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen and that was it.
Harry didn’t really mind it though, as he hated the crowded shopping malls, the silly Christmas movies, the horrible Christmas hits on the radio and the big amount of stress during December. Then along came Eggsy and shook up everything. Being very close to his own family, Christmas was a big deal for him, and due to that, he wanted something more than a carol and a glass of Scotch. He started with inviting Harry to their house for Christmas. Then he convinced him to get a tree and he even helped him decorating it. Then he had this idea of a sleepover and invited Roxy and Merlin, too, to play games and watch movies together. He wanted to talk him out of it, because it sounded so silly, but Eggsy insisted. And yes, it was silly, but Harry had to admit that he hadn’t had this much fun for quite a long time. So the sleepover became a tradition. And so did the tree. And now Harry Hart was buying presents, too – although mostly online, in order to avoid huge crowds.
Thinking back to those Christmases in the past, they seemed so sad, even though he knew he didn’t feel sad at those times. He didn’t feel anything at all, and perhaps that was even sadder. Sadder, but a lot safer, he thought. Now there was the risk of losing him, of losing them all. However, if Harry Hart had learned something in the last few years was that some risks were worth taking.
“Harry!” Eggsy called from the dining room. “It’s time.”
He got up from the armchair and joined Eggsy, Roxy and Merlin in the dining room. Now the four Kingsman agents were standing around the table with a glass of Scotch in their hands. Through their glasses they could see the rest of the agents, too, all standing straight, holding their drinks. They looked at Merlin who nodded his head. Then they all started singing:
God rest ye merry, gentlemen,
Let nothing you dismay,
For Jesus Christ our Saviour
Was born upon this day,
To save us all from Satan's power
When we were gone astray:
O tidings of comfort and joy,
comfort and joy,
O tidings of comfort and joy.
Chapter 22: December 22 - Nineteen minutes
Summary:
When everyone else are upstairs, Matthew surprises Mary with a Christmas present he didn't dare to give her in front of the whole family.
Notes:
Just because I wanted to add some shameless Mary/Matthew fluff to the challenge.
Chapter Text
Downton Abbey was surprisingly quiet at Christmas night when Lady Mary Crawley walked through the hall. Lady Violet and Mrs Crawley had already gone home, and Robert had been upstairs with Cora for quite a while now.
There wasn’t a huge party anyway, as the shadow of Sybil’s death was still lingering in the house. They finished The Game quite early on, when normally they used to play endless rounds, until they ran out of ideas or paper. This year, however, none of them was really in the mood for playing. Which put an early end to the party as well. Mary didn’t mind it, although she wasn’t planning to go to sleep just yet. Not when it was their first proper Christmas together with Matthew.
She found him in the music room, sitting by the gramophone, listening to one of the records she had given him for Christmas.
“There you are,” she stated as she went inside.
“Do you want a drink?” he asked, getting up from the armchair.
“I don’t think I should, but yes, please,” she answered.
Matthew poured a glass for her then another one from himself.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” he said, handling her the glass.
“Is anyone here?” she wondered after taking a sip. On the table there were several used glasses already.
“Tom was, but he went upstairs a while ago. So it’s just the two of us,” he added with a smile forming in the corner of his lips.
“Good,” she said, putting down her glass. Then she stepped to him and gave him a long, passionate kiss. Smiling against her lips, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to himself.
“I’ve got something for you,” Matthew said when they broke apart. Originally, he wanted to give it to her later in their room, but he changed his mind now that everybody else was upstairs. “Let me bring it down for you.”
“What is it?” she asked curiously.
“A Christmas present,” he told her with a secretive smile.
“But… haven’t I got all my presents?” Mary wondered.
“Not this one,” he said before he left the room to bring the present down.
Mary didn’t understand what was happening. Had he forgotten about one of her presents? But he did give her a nice pair of leather gloves! What was this about? Did he buy something inappropriate? But why would he do such thing?
Matthew came back with a medium-sized flat box wrapped in pink paper with a bow on the top.
“I wasn’t sure if I can give this to you in front of everyone,” he told her. “I was afraid Cousin Violet or Robert would get a heart attack.
“Goodness, what is it?” Mary asked with a chuckle. “A set of lace garters?”
“No, something way better,” he smiled. “Happy Christmas!”
“Now I’m really curious,” she said as she sat down to unwrap the mysterious present, watched by Matthew who couldn’t wait to see her face when she would see what was in the box.
She gasped as opening the box, she found a light and soft robe made of silk in a rich burgundy colour. These colourful gowns had caught her eye in the magazines months ago, and she was thinking of buying one for herself, but since all of her nightgowns and robes were white, cream, or of other soft colours, she thought it might be too bold.
“This is wonderful!” she exclaimed with a wide grin breaking out on her face. “How did you know?”
“Well, I was there when you saw it in one of those fashion magazines, and I thought ‘why not?’” he told her, being glad that he could make her so happy with the present.
“Thank you very much,” she said, getting up to kiss him.
“I’m glad you liked it,” he said, unable to wipe the smile off his face.
“And you’re right: Papa and Granny would have had a heart attack. Even if we are married.”
“When no-one said a word about my new pyjamas. Although they would if they knew I don’t always wear them,” he added with a cheeky smile.
“Don’t tell this to Granny, or you’ll make her faint,” she laughed.
“Careful, I might try,” he joked.
Mary’s gaze fell on the robe she was still holding, and a smile touched her lips.
“Come upstairs in twenty minutes and you can see how it fits,” she whispered into his ear. She was dying to try it on and to have him see it on her. She was sure it would look stunning.
“I can’t wait,” he said with a smile that also could have made Lady Violet faint, had she seen it.
She gave him a light kiss before stepping out of his arms, then she left the room with the box and the dressing gown in her hands. Now that he was alone again, Matthew finished his drink, then looked at the mantel clock above the fireplace.
This was going to be the longest nineteen minutes of his life.
Chapter 23: December 23 - Christmas lights
Summary:
Alexander Lemtov and Roxy Morton take a walk in London on Christmas night to see the lit-up city.
Notes:
Last installment of the Lemtov's Christmas party-storyline. Sequel to Chapters 3, 10, 15 and 18, loosely related to Chapter 21 as well.
Chapter Text
The streets were almost empty when Alexander Lemtov and Roxy Morton arrived downtown on the evening of December 25th. It was a sudden idea that came to his mind on their way to Roxy’s flat when looking out of the taxi, he caught a glimpse of the Christmas lights in the city. Then he asked her if she wanted to take a walk later. It took her by surprise, but she said yes.
But what was Alexander Lemtov doing in London on Christmas Day? When in Russia they celebrate Christmas on 7 January? It all started back at his own Christmas party, where he began to feel lonely and melancholic, so in order to cheer him up a little, Roxy invited him to a sleepover on Christmas Eve and a lunch afterwards. It was something a lot smaller than he was used to: to him a sleepover meant at least twenty people and several rounds of pillow fights, while on this one, there were only five guests and no pillow fights were involved. Which actually made sense on a party with four secret agents. At the party, apart from Lemtov, everybody belonged to Kingsman: there was Roxy and Merlin the bald Scotsman whom he had met at the song contest, and then Eggsy, Roxy’s friend and Harry his mentor. And all they did was watching Christmas movies and playing board games. In pyjamas, so he could rock the lion onesie he got from Roxy. Despite it wasn’t his kind of party, he had a lot of fun.
Then next day they were joined by Eggsy’s mother and sister and Roxy’s aunt Rosie to have the Christmas lunch together. It was all blurry for him; he couldn’t recall any particular moment, such as cutting the turkey or watching the Queen’s speech. The only thing he remembered was the warmth he felt inside during the day. Even though he knew only Roxy and Merlin before, he was welcomed by the others. Except perhaps Harry, who seemed a little sceptical towards him, but he managed to win him over when in a round of charades, the senior agent had to act out ‘Mr Darcy emerging from the lake in a wet shirt’ and he was the one who guessed it, saving him from further suffering. Thinking back to Harry’s struggle, Lemtov let out a small laugh.
“What is it?” Roxy asked.
“I just remembered Mr Darcy coming out of the lake,” he answered. The Kingsman agent let out a chuckle.
“I think he’ll be forever grateful to you for saving him,” she said. “We all knew what it was, but it was too funny to say anything.”
“Poor man,” he said with a laugh.
“Still can’t decide if that was the funniest moment or when Merlin danced the Macarena.”
“Tough one,” he agreed.
Then they both fell silent for a while as they walked on, enjoying the sight of the lit-up London.
“Anyway, thank you for inviting me,” he said. “I had a lot of fun.”
“Happy to hear that,” Roxy smiled with a warming heart.
He returned her smile then offered his arm to her and she took it. And as they walked down Oxford Street under the dazzling lights, Alexander Lemtov felt he had the best Christmas in years.
Chapter 24: December 24 - The tree
Summary:
On his way home on Christmas Eve, Tom Branson realises he has forgotten to buy a tree, so he sets off to find one, while Sybil is waiting for him to come home, more and more worried.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Dublin, 1919
Tom Branson felt this day would never come to an end. It was Christmas Eve and he couldn’t wait to finish his tasks in the office and go home to Sybil and start celebrating with her. This would be their first Christmas together, and knowing that it was her favourite holiday, he wanted to make it memorable. He had planned it all in his head: take out the ornaments he had brought from his mother’s house, baking some gingerbread and then decorate the tree together. The thoughts of the preparation drew a smile on his face as he was walking home in the falling snow.
Then suddenly he stopped in the middle of the street.
The tree.
He had forgotten the goddamn tree.
How did that happen? How on earth would they celebrate without a tree? He had no intention to recreate those excessive and sparkling Christmases at Downton Abbey, but the Christmas tree was essential, even for a socialist like him. He couldn’t go home without it. It would mean he was a failure as a husband who could not even celebrate Christmas properly. He had to stop again to shake these thoughts out of his head. He had to find a tree – that was what he needed to focus on and nothing else. He took a deep breath then headed to the city centre to find a Christmas tree seller.
It was already quarter to nine, but Tom was still nowhere near home. Sybil looked out of the window for at least the tenth time, but nothing changed: the street was empty, it was still snowing and there was still no sign of Tom. He was supposed to finish at six and should be at home about half an hour later. She couldn’t remember him telling her he that he still had some errands to run or that he was going to have a drink with his colleagues. Or could it be that he had told her about it, but she just forgot it? She couldn’t tell, but as time passed by, she was getting more and more worried. What if he got into a fight? What if he got arrested? What if he…
“No. That cannot be,” she said it out loud, struggling with the paralysing thought of Tom lying dead somewhere. She shouldn’t even think about it. “It cannot be,” she repeated. Not when he was going to be a father.
Sybil’s hand involuntarily slipped onto her belly. She hadn’t told it to Tom yet; no-one else knew apart from her and the doctor. She was dying to let him know, but she decided to keep it a secret until Christmas day. This would be his present. Well she had bought him a pair of fine leather gloves, too, but this would be the big surprise. If he ever gets to hear it.
“He will,” she whispered. “He will come home, he will know.”
When Tom Branson arrived home, carrying a small pine tree, she found Sybil standing by the oven holding a smoking baking pan. Which she immediately dropped when she saw him at the door. She ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck with tears running down her cheeks.
“Where on earth have you been?” she asked. “Are you all right?”
“I just forgot the tree,” he replied, a bit surprised by her reaction. He wasn’t aware it was this late already. “But nothing happened.”
“Who cares about the tree?” she burst out, still in tears. “You’re home. Safe. I was worried you got arrested… or worse. I even thought I’d be left alone with the baby,” she admitted, telling him all, without thinking.
Hearing her last words, Tom let go of the tree that fell over, but he couldn’t care less. He took a step backwards so he could look into her eyes.
“The baby?” he repeated with a surprisingly hoarse voice.
“Crikey, I wanted to tell you tomorrow,” Sybil mumbled.
The room spun around with Tom and his eyes filled with tears. He was going to be a father!
“Are you… are we having a baby?” he asked.
“Yes,” Sybil nodded with a grin on her face she couldn’t wipe away. “It meant to be your Christmas present, but I messed it up.”
“I don’t care,” he said, smiling through his tears. “That’s the best present I’ve ever had!”
His hart was overflowing with happiness as he cupped her face with his trembling hands and kissed her. Then wrapping his arms around her, he lifted her up and started spinning around with her in the hall.
Notes:
So, this was the last chapter of this year's advent calendar challenge. I hope you enjoyed reading these fics as much I did writing them.
Thank you for sticking with me in these three and a half weeks, and thanks for the kudos and the comments, too!
And Merry Christmas to you all who celebrate it! ^_^
srtlv on Chapter 3 Sat 05 Dec 2020 05:08PM UTC
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M (Guest) on Chapter 11 Sun 19 Sep 2021 05:36AM UTC
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