At first, Lena had found Château Guillard to be too empty—hollow, like a particularly well done backdrop for a movie—but in the past few weeks, a lot had changed. The garden was still in disarray and the outside walls could use some paint, but you could hardly fix those things when there was ice and snow everywhere, could you? The inside however had blossomed out from a drafty and cold hovel with crumbling plaster and cobwebs everywhere, to a proud estate Lena couldn't have dreamed of living in in a million years.



There were certainly perks to dating a noblewoman, even if this perk was hard-earned with weeks of renovation. Now that the worst of it was done—and not a moment too soon when winter rolled around with a vengeance a month ago—Amélie and Lena could reap the fruit of their labor.



It was Christmas Eve, and Lena was entirely too excited for Amélie's taste. This year's holidays were their first ones just by themselves, and although Lena had agreed to sleep in, her body and mind had other plans. She'd managed to get out of bed without waking Amélie up, but no matter how hard she'd tried to be as quiet as possible, her lover's heightened senses put a spoke in Lena's wheel. Amélie had of course complained groggily at first, but a mug of hot chocolate with a dollop of whipped cream on top seemed to make her early awakening tolerable. They both weren't big on traditions, but they could agree on making Christmas a special time in the year. Amélie had been worried Lena would go overboard with making her home festive, transforming it into a tacky caricature. In the end, her worries were unfounded, and she had to agree that Lena's sense of style wasn't completely off the mark. One thing she insisted on though was that the Christmas tree should be outside, on one of the Château's many terraces. She wasn't keen on fir needles everywhere. Lena had immediately exploded with ideas, and now she was humming carols outside, hanging baubles and fairy lights on a tree that was easily three times her own size.



The ladder she climbed around on was a bit wobbly and the tree's needles pricked her through her woolen gloves, but she didn't care. That was just a part of Christmas. Working on the tree made the morning go by in a flurry, and soon the fairy lights were fixed in place and the last bauble hung up. Eager to take a look at the finished product, Lena set the ladder aside and plugged the lights in before she went back inside, rubbing her hands. She made her way to the kitchen, where Amélie was busy preparing dinner.



"It's bloody cold outside, luv," she said, pulling the beanie off her head, the unruly spikes springing up instantly.



Amélie gave a sympathetic smile and emptied a ladle of dough into a pan. "I would warm you up, but..." She gestured at her modified body.



"I'll hug ya anyways," Lena giggled and wrapped her arms around Amélie from behind, standing on her tiptoes to be able to look over her shoulders. "Want to see the tree light up?" Lena asked, before she pressed a kiss to Amélie's neck.



"Mhm, but I have to bake this one through first," Amélie said, leaning into Lena's touch while spreading the dough out with a wooden spreader. "Do you want to help me with these, ma chére? "



A wide grin appeared on Lena's face. "Yeah, after we switch the tree on." She rested her chin on Amélie's shoulder, watching her wait for the right moment to flip the crêpe over.



After a few practiced movements with a flat spatula, Amélie carefully placed it on a stack with the rest of them. Lena reluctantly loosened her embrace, and once Amélie washed her hands, she was compensated with a quick kiss to the forehead. Amélie's kisses were cold, but with the winter chill still lingering on Lena's skin she could feel even that little bit of warmth in Amélie's touch.



When Lena grabbed her hand and started to lead her to the terrace, Amélie chuckled. "You're very excited about a decorated tree. I'm sure it won't disappear suddenly," she asserted.



"Oi, this is the first tree I got to decorate in ages! And," Lena raised her index finger, "it's my first own tree. Well, it's your tree, too, but you know what I mean." She pouted, looking up in Amélie's amused face.



"Mh. I see, that changes things," Amélie said, speeding up her steps.



As soon as they reached the room that looked out over the terrace, Lena gestured for Amélie to stay where she was, while she ran over to the switch that controlled the outdoor sockets.



Excitement was bubbling up inside her; She was eager to show off her handiwork.



"Ready, luv?"



"Oui, chérie."



Lena flipped the switch, and the terrace was drenched in golden light from hundreds of little LEDs. She ran back into the arms of her lover, and took it all in. The warm colors radiating from the terrace stood in stark contrast to the pure white of the snowy mountains surrounding Lac d'Annecy. Amélie pulled her closer, crossing her arms across Lena's chest.



"It's beautiful," she purred. "You should do that every year."



"I'd love to!" Lena beamed. "Just wait to see what it looks like in the dark, I bet it's gonna shine all the way across the lake."



Amélie hummed in agreement. "Now, you wanted to help me with dinner?"

Helping Amélie with cooking had become a bit of a custom, and usually they agreed beforehand on what to cook. For Christmas, however, Amélie hadn't told Lena what the menu consisted of. So when Lena tried to snack on what she assumed to be sweet, thin crêpes, she frowned.



"Amélie, these crêpes aren't sweet at all," she complained. This was Christmas, and to mess up a recipe like that was very unlike Amélie.



Amélie wasn't upset, though. She shot Lena one of those knowing smiles, instead. "Lena, those aren't crêpes. They are galettes." She added another one to the stack and went to fetch something for the fridge. "So, here's what I have in mind."

Half an hour later, the stack of galettes was gone and in its stead, many little rolls filled with cream cheese and smoked salmon filled the plate. A few of them were already missing when they started preparing the roast chicken, buttered carrots, and sauté potatoes. By the time that was done, they’d set a small table looking out at the Christmas tree, and the quietly crackling fireplace had done its best to fill the room with the smell of burnt birchwood. Lena had a blast flambéing the créme brulée they'd made, barely able to control herself to not devour the extra amount Amélie had planned.



The sun set early in winter, and so it was dusk when the Christmas dinner was finally on the table. They were just about to sit down to eat, when the doorbell rang. Amélie's brows furrowed as she got up to see who intruded on their meal. Nobody was invited for today, so Lena followed her to the door with a mixture of confusion and curiosity. A little girl, not older than 9, and presumably her dad, appeared on the screen of the security system.



"You don't have to answer it if you don't want to," Lena said quietly. "It's our home, we get to decide who enters."



Taking a deep breath, Amélie adjusted her sweater. "They are just neighbors, probably. It wouldn't be nice if I didn't greet them, especially on Christmas, no?" She opened the door. "Bonsoir. Qu’est-ce que je peux faire pour vous?"



A wave of frigid air wafted into the hall, while their visitors took a moment to process the contrast between what they expected and what—or rather, who—opened the door for them.



The little girl's father cleared his throat before he spoke in a slightly raspy, but not unpleasant voice. "Ah, bonsoir. Ma fille, Chloé... Elle a vu votre arbre de Noël de l'autre côté de lac." He put a hand on his daughter's shoulder, who looked up at Amélie with wide eyes. "Elle voulait vous donner des biscuits."



"Nous les avons fait nous-mêmes!" The girl proclaimed, holding up a tin box for Amélie to take. "Joyeux Noël!"



"Merci, c'est très gentil de votre part," Amélie said, accepting the gift. "Joyeux Noël." There was a certain warmth in her voice that she rarely showed around strangers. "Je ne me suis pas encore présentée. Je suis Amélie Lacroix, et voici ma petite amie Lena Oxton. Elle est anglaise, donc elle ne parle pas beaucoup français."



Lena didn't understand much French, but that she understood. "Oi, I'm trying to learn," she declared in feigned indignation, before she squatted down in front of Chloé. "Tu veux, erm, voir l'arbre?" Lena briefly glanced up into her lover's face for confirmation. A barely noticeable nod was her answer.



Chloé nodded enthusiastically, so Lena got up and indicated for her to follow. Behind her, Chloé's father shook Amélie's hand. "Jean Fournier," he introduced himself.



A few moments later, Chloé stood in front of the window that led to the terrace with the Christmas tree, her eyes glimmering with joy. The fairy lights reflected off the dark gray water, making little waves look like sparkling stars. The town of Annecy replied with its own golden shine from under snow-covered roofs.



Jean walked up to his daughter and ruffled her hair. "Le château est magnifique," he said. "Nous ne voulions pas vous déranger longtemps." He bowed down to Chloé. "Rentrons à la maison, d'accord?"



The little girl nodded again. "Oui." She waved at Lena and Amélie. "Bye bye!"



Lena's stomach grumbled as the pair made their leave with Jean's "Merci" and "Au revoir." Just as they were out of the door, Chloé's voice reverberated across the courtyard. "Ce sont deux princesses!"



"Hear that, luv? We’re two princesses," Lena grinned.



Amélie raised an eyebrow. "You aren't going to stop calling us that now, are you?"



"Oh no." Lena stood on her tiptoes and planted a quick kiss on Amélie's lips. "I'm hungry."

Lena already knew the salmon galette-rolls were delicious, but she had to be patient and wait until now to taste the rest. Her endurance was well rewarded though, because the chicken was so tender it almost melted in her mouth, the potatoes were crisp, and the carrots had just the right amount of bite. Amélie watched her with a satisfied smirk, pleased with her cooking skills. Between bites, Lena showered her with compliments, eager to point out she helped, of course. Amélie had told her before that she could cook like that too if she'd just be a bit more patient, but if you could travel through time, patience was hard to learn.



When her spoon cracked through the caramelized sugar on the créme brulée, a pensive smile appeared on Lena's lips. "Ya know, Amélie, I think we've arrived now," she said. "Look at us. We have a home—a proper one, not just a room on a Watchpoint—we have each other, we have a lot of friends. The last big battle is over. There will probably be more, there always are, but here we are." There was a glint in her eyes. "And I wouldn't want to be anywhere else but right here with you."



Amélie's spoon clattered onto the table, and before Lena could speak up again, the hand that held it reached over the table and pulled her into a kiss that took her breath away. It was fervent and absolutely honest, without hesitation.



As their lips separated, Amélie squeezed Lena's hand. "Lena, I love you." She paused, looking for words, a subtle tremor running through those perfectly arched brows. "I... wouldn't be here without you, and I wouldn't want to be here without you."



Lena briefly forgot about her dessert. They had declared their love for each other many times before, but it was rare that Amélie made a point of it. "I love you too, Amélie," Lena said. This time it was her who reached over the table for a kiss, this time softer, more gentle. "Dessert and then presents?" she asked.



"I think you forgot about doing the dishes, chérie," Amélie chuckled and put a spoonful of dessert into her mouth, before she slowly pulled the spoon back out, making Lena blush hard.



With her cheeks heating up, Lena pouted. "I did," she admitted.



Amélie finished her dessert long before Lena did, but that was mainly because Lena had three servings before she slumped back in her chair with a satisfied sigh. Resting her head on her folded hands, Amélie smiled at her, an affectionate twinkle in her golden eyes.



"What're you looking at, luv?" Lena asked, grinning wide. A part of her still couldn't believe that this smile was a part of her life now, but she was infinitely glad that it was.



"You," came the deadpan answer. "I like seeing you happy."



"I like seeing you happy, too," Lena said, straightening herself. "Well, let's get to work, I want to give you something. It's Christmas, after all."



Soon after, the used dishes were either sorted into the dishwasher or scrubbed off in the sink. Barely drying her hands off properly, Lena excused herself and ran up one of the château's many staircases to her study. The fact that she had a study now hadn't really sunk in yet, and she rarely used it, but making and storing presents in it worked very well.



Lena stubbed her toe on her desk and released a slew of expletives at it, when a very concerned "Lena?" rang out through the halls from the couch where she'd told Amélie to wait. When she came back, she limped a bit.



"I'm fine, stubbed my bloody toe. Got too excited to look out for wild table legs," she said.



Hiding her hands and her expertly wrapped gift behind her back, Lena sat down on the couch next to Amélie, who didn't appear to have moved at all.



Lena gave the Christmas tree a wistful look. "Somehow, it's not the same with the tree outside. Sure beats having needles in your socks for weeks though."



"I could have made it more... festive," Amélie mused. "Angela had a spare Santa costume." She twirled her ponytail around her hand innocently, and Lena knew exactly what costume she meant.



Images of a very short red velvet dress with a fluffy white hem and matching gloves flashed through Lena's mind. "And you didn't—" A finger on her lips silenced her complaint.



"Who said I won't?" Amélie purred and pulled her hand back. "Now, shall I go first?"



Lena nodded. Amélie had always been good at teasing her, not that she'd ever complain about that.



Leaning over dangerously far towards the coffee table in front of the couch, Amélie picked up an unassuming envelope and handed it to Lena. Before she could tell her to open it, Lena was already staring at the contents with wide eyes. It was a beautifully handwritten voucher for a French language course in town.



"Bloody hell, luv, thank—er, merci beaucoup!" Careful not to crumple the paper, Lena put it back on the table and jumped at Amélie, hugging her tight. "Thank you so much." She showered her in little kisses.



"Je t'en prie," Amélie chuckled. "I do admit, it's not for entirely selfless reasons. I adore when you speak French. I know you're trying to learn, and I'm not the best teacher. Merry Christmas." She brushed a strand of hair out of Lena's face, briefly touching her lips with her own.



"Really, thank you. I'm so looking forward to just talking to you in French." Lena loosened her embrace and made herself comfortable right next to Amélie, leaning onto her shoulder. She fetched Amélie's present from behind her and handed it over. "I made you something," she said. "Joyeux Noël? I hope said that right."



"You did." Amélie gently ruffled Lena's hair.



In gleeful anticipation of Amélie's reaction, Lena watched her carefully unwrap the vaguely rectangular gift. When Amélie finally got rid of the purple wrapping paper, she held a black album in her hands. It was bound in leather, with metal corners. She curiously opened it, and was greeted by a heart drawn in red sharpie. On the following pages, there were dozens of pictures, every one of them with commentary scribbled next to it.



"It's not full yet, we can add more memories in there," Lena said softly. "You didn't have any pictures, so I thought I'd give you a start."



Amélie laid the album down on her knees and pulled Lena closer, resting her head on Lena's shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered. "Je t'aime."



"I love you, too."



They stayed like that for a while, silently appreciating each other's presence. The fireplace crackled in the corner and in the light of the Christmas tree, big snowflakes quietly sank to the ground outside.



Eventually, Lena stirred. "Hey, want to look at the pictures together and eat cookies?" she asked.



"Mhm. I'll go get a blanket," Amélie replied and got up.



When she returned, she half laid down in the corner of the couch, motioning for Lena to sit in her lap before she covered their legs with the blanket. Lena rested the box of cookies on her lap, picked up the album, and opened the first page.



"I started taking pictures a bit after we got together, so this is from one and a half years ago," she said.



Amélie shifted slightly to be able to see better. "I remember. Hana was upset because she doesn't like being photographed outside of work."



Lena flipped the page. "Here's you, right before losing your first game of StarCraft to her," she giggled.



"I'm better at games where I can shoot the enemy myself," Amélie deadpanned.



They proceeded to reminisce about every single picture, giggling and snickering deep into the night. When they got to the end, the cookies were gone and Lena could barely keep herself awake. Amélie ran her fingers through Lena's hair, causing groans of pleasure to escape her throat.



"Lena, ma chére, shall we go to bed?" Amélie asked. "We have visitors tomorrow."



Lena sighed groggily, nuzzling herself against Amélie's chest. "Yeah, that's probably for the best. Ree and Ange are coming over, aren't they?"



She reluctantly got up, fueled by the knowledge that snuggling worked even better in bed.