Archive of Our Own ^beta

'It should be fairly easy to choose a present,' Peter thinks yet again, moodily looking outside at the snowy gardens.

Generally, it is: hunting dogs are plenty and he knows how to choose a right one or several. Horses are also a great thing.

If Peter doesn't want to be personal about it, he can ask Brockdorff. Or, even better, Brockdorff will arrange matters to satisfaction, as he does with presents to Catherine and the child.

The one person whose gift cannot be chosen with Brockdorff's help is Brockdorff himself, naturally. Usually, Peter doesn't hesitate: gifting nice and useful things to him is natural. A good saddle for a horse, a sturdy pair of boots, a good cloak, a pistol that caught Peter's eyes... He might not always gift the best things, might not always get a nice enough present, but Brockdorff is always happy to receive anything from Peter. A couple of times he refused, but since then Peter learned what kind of things was too outrageously expensive, or too hideous, and no matter what people say, he, Peter Fyodorovich, can learn from his mistakes if he so wants.

And yet, each Christmas it's the same.

Ordinary days valid ordinary gifts; birthday and name day are more important, but then Peter usually has the presence of mind to subtly ask whether Brockdorff wants anything.

Christmas and New Year, however, are lavishly celebrated; Brockdorff is always more busy than Peter, so busy he has no time to answer and Peter has to invent somethings.

Last year - a cloak made from a wolf pelt.

The year before that - a set of hunting pistols, inlaid with silver, still very good. At least Brockdorff never complained about them and does shoot well in Peter's presence.

Brockdorff's dressed impeccably; his horse is probably the best kept in all the stables of Saint Petersburg; the last dog openly favoured Peter and while that is nice and Lancer is a good boy, a gift for Brockdorff is supposed to be a gift for him, not an excuse to get something for Peter himself...

'I can play something," Peter thinks, rolls the idea in his mind.

It is a nice one. If he learns something sufficiently likeable, and remembers to promise to play it as often as Brockdorff would like...

By the morning, when the snow starts falling in earnest, Peter has at least half the melody rearranged for the violin. He might not be a composer, but he remembers which melodies were sure to make Brockdorff want to dance, and he can note those down and compose something similar.

It is more than a month till the festivities and given the weather, Peter will have enough time to prepare.

***

Music gifts have one problem: one cannot exactly keep them a secret. Brockdorff holds the reigns of Peter's court, after all, and so comes and goes as he pleases anywhere, including Peter's rooms.

Even Catherine is not allowed that much.

But the lack of surprise does allow Peter to guess that his gift will be well-received: one time Brockdorff actually pauses in whatever duty he has been doing to listen to Peter practice, and this is a compliment in itself. As much as Peter loves playing, right now he just learns the melody - he can look at Brockdorff to judge his moods.

The moods are hardly usual: Brockdorff is more tired than normal, thus a bit more irritable, but nothing Peter does can help (trying to lend a hand with organizing the festivities doesn't bring the results Peter wants, and Brockdorff openly declares that he has no time for usual relaxing activities, like hunting, or riding, or riding Peter).

As much as Peter earns to just order Brockdorff to rest, this usually doesn't work.

And so the short December days pass quickly. Peter learns the music and now just perfects it. Brockdorff looks more and more tired. Snow falls and falls.

At some point Peter wanders into Brockdorff's room and inspects it as if that was a regiment in need of a guidance. But nothing seems amiss: the bed is as comfortable as Brockdorff likes, the room is not too cold, the fire works, whatever documents Peter can find do not shine light upon the cause for Brockdorff's obvious exhaustion...

Peter takes a last look, decides to get a writing set in addition to music: he has seen a nice enough bronze one in one of the shops of Gostynyi Dvor and a useful gift is always welcome, - and leaves to give a piece of his mind to whoever is helping Brockdorff organise the upcoming celebrations. Clearly the problem is there.

***

It is the bronze writing set, complete with a couple of candlesticks made in the same austere style, that completes the idea in Peter's mind: they do have to get up early for Christmas service, his aunt will not forgive his absence, but the evening before is their own. So Peter takes his violin and goes to seek Brockdorff: an early present is nice, and it might ensure that Peter manages to finally surprise Brockdorff with another gift.

One can hope, after all.

Brockdorff, surprisingly, is not happy to see Peter barging in his rooms. It takes a moment to figure out why.

A set of porcelain soldiers is standing near the fire, their paint still moist; Brockdorff himself is holding yet another soldier and a brush in his hands, paints proper on the table in front of him.

"Why didn't you call on me to help?" Peter asks, and leans to look onto the figurines being dried.

They look like Preobrazhensky regiment, green with red cuffs. Peter sees a drummer, a couple of officers, six soldiers...

"They were supposed to be painted," Brockdoff huffs and continues to carefully colour the cuffs of the figure he is holding with red. "God only knows why I trusted that the Saxonian masters would know how to paint Russian forces!"

Peter realises, suddenly, that this is the reason for Brockdorff's tiredness: unlike Peter, he usually managed to keep his presents a secret until they were gifted.

"I only have a couple to finish and then the paint has to dry. This set is more decorative than your usual, but no one else in all of Russia would have the same," Brockdorff says with his usual calmness.

Peter looks around, doesn't see another brush, and nods, understanding that no, he will not be trusted to paint his future soldiers.

"If we are showing our gifts early, listen to yours," he proclaims, and stands to play.

Brockdorff does continue to paint, but his eyes stray to look at Peter more and more often, and he is smiling almost before Peter has started properly playing.

Peter cannot help but smile in return.