World War I
We are at war with Germany. Elsie knows it. Downton might be far away from the battle fields, but the war has come to them as well. She sees it. She would have to be blind not too. The newspapers are full with the war. The village is full with it. Soldiers wounded or on their way to be marked by battle walk the streets. Thomas is gone. She can't say she misses him, but when she walks by the hospital and sees what happens to those who fight, she finds herself hoping that he is not in the middle of that hell France turned into. William thinks about going. She doesn't want him to go. War would take one step towards her if the lad put on a uniform. Now and then, she sees Lord Grantham. He is wearing uniform these days. He is not an acting soldier, but still a soldier. And he sleeps, walks, eats, lives under the same roof as her.
The war, she hears it. She would have to be numb not too. On Sundays, Mr. Travis always speaks of it. He tells them to have faith, to pray for the brave men at the front and to carry on as best as they can. The family talks about it. The staff talks about it. The whole village turned into a web of war stories. War can be smelled in the air, tasted in the food. It is always present. And soon it will conquer Downton. They talk about turning the house into a hospital for officers. She will be nowhere safe then. Only in her room, when the sun has long disappeared on the horizon. Maybe in her sleep she can escape it. She won't dream of uniforms, of cripples, the sound of firing guns and explosions, the smell of blood, earth and sweat. She won't dream of it. She can see and hear the war, even smell and taste it sometimes, but she doesn't feel it. There is no husband to worry about, no brother, father, son or nephew. Her family is safe, so she doesn't feel it and her dreams are war free.
She is watching the clock. The hands move both, slow and fast. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Elsie closes her eyes. She can hear the train's brakes screeching and creaking. It stops with a muffled jerk. Steam hisses from the engine and rises in the air. The doors open and he steps out. He heaves his suitcase out of the third class compartment. She can see him clearly even though she is not there. His tall and broad figure, wrapped up in a perfectly fitting suit. Charles Carson steps calmly down the platform. He will be back any moment now. Back from a short trip to York. He had to fetch some things there. The season has been cancelled. She wishes the war to be over soon, but she is also grateful that there are no weeks without him for a change. She is stronger with him by her side, despite what had happened. Despite what had changed them. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. He is with her. And as long as he is there, she doesn't feel the war. He won't be sent to the front where she couldn't protect him. His work is the only enemy anywhere near them. She can deal with that. No need to worry. No way for everything to come to close to her. But that wasn't the truth, was it? The truth. The truth was that it was only a matter of time until the war's grip on her would tighten and make her feel. And then her whole world would start to crumble until it would lie in ruins at her feet. Until the truth he should have been told long ago would splutter out of her. There was nothing more she feared than the war forcing her to face the truth. A truth Elsie had buried deep inside her fifteen years ago.
The backdoor is opened and there he stands. He sighs, removes his hat and greets her with a warm smile. They go to his pantry. There is a lot to talk about. There always is, there always will be. The war has its effect on both of them. He has the afternoon post with him, met the postman on his way from the village. There is a letter for her from her sister. She suspects what it will say and makes her excuses as soon as possible. Her bottom lip suffers while she stands up and leaves.
He doesn't see it. He has lost the ability to read her long ago. Fifteen years ago to be exact if he remembered it correctly. Charles has stopped wondering what had happened then. It was done and in the past and there was way too much work to do to think about old stories again. The present was complicated enough. There was a war on after all. Things were as they were and he wouldn't complain about it. They had both found their way and for his part he thought it was a good one.
She sits in her sitting room. The door is closed. She doesn't want to be disturbed. With shaky hands she opens the letter. It is more of a short note than a letter. It was written in a hurry and with much concern: Elsie, he wants to enlist. I can't stop him. Do something!
The war was ever since it started a threat and now it is rolling over her like a thundering storm. Suddenly she feels it. And that was when everything started.
I borrowed the title of this fanfiction from Anthony Trollope's novel. I have never read it and only seen parts of the series. This fic won't be anything like it. I just think it's a really good title. Let me know what you think of this "introduction chapter". Thank you for reading! :)