Author notes:

First, let me warn you that this is as self-indulgent as it gets. I don't think that any of what I wrote here is possible or even plausible but I need this, 'kay? Bear with me. It's not as if we can rely on Mr. 'I-Destroy-Everything-You-Love' Fellows to provide some Anthony and Edith happiness.

Secondly, I want to stress that English is NOT my native language, so this is probably crawling with typos and whatnot. Sorry about it in advance.

That being said, I hope you guys enjoy this. At least a little bit.

The church looked beautiful, really. All in white and silver, flowers decorating every aisle. The place was packed, filled with family members and friends, a feeling of elation and happiness hung heavy in the air. They were all so glad for her. So why, why, why was she feeling so miserable?

Looking back, Edith Crawley knew that this was wrong, terribly, terribly wrong, but she was unable to put an end to it, it was too late for it. It was impossible not to draw a parallel to that faithful day, all those months ago, when the unthinkable happened. He left her at the altar. For him, being in front of the priest, just seconds away from saying their vows was not late enough to leave and destroy her so completely. Even after all this time she could taste bitter tears at the back of her throat when she thought about it and her heart squeezed in the most alarming way on her chest.

But now was not the time to think of him. Now was time to get married to a man she wasn't even sure she loved. He was standing at the end of the aisle and the feeling of wrongness grew ever stronger. Instead of bright blue eyes, she saw dark, beady ones; in place of a shy, awkward smile; a smug, satisfied grin. The sense of déjà-vu overwhelmed her. And yet a few, very important details were so very different from the last time. Not only the groom was wrong, the look of harsh disapproval was not there, in the faces of her father, her sister, her grandmother. It was enough to make her feel blind with anger: a kind, sweet, loving man was not good enough because he was older and injured, but a divorced, shallow man with no kindness or sweetness was good enough for her only because their age was closer together. Again the need to just bolt out of the church door gripped her, but no, she couldn't. This was all that was left for her, a hollow, meaningless love, a life that was just bearable. How could they think that this was better, that Michael was better than Anthony?

…

He read it on the paper, the news that he was hopping and dreading finally came to pass: Lady Edith Crawley was to be married. He was able to smile even as his tears fell into the newspaper, smearing the words. At least now she would be able to find happiness, the real kind, with a young, whole man that was will make her happy. For months he wallowed in despair, barely eating or sleeping, hunted by the look on her face when he left her at the altar. At times it was so hard not to go to her and beg her forgiveness that he had to lock himself in his room and remind himself over and over again that he was not worth her, not good enough for her. He was old and broken and wrong and so, so selfish. He never should have left things go that far between them but he was weak and so very in love with her. All the pain he felt now was a small punishment for his behavior toward that sweet, lovely girl. He was a cad. But now she moved on, his dearest darling, and she would be happy, of course she would, and he would be happy for her. Heartbroken, but still happy.

…..

Anthony swore he would stay at home in the day of her wedding. It would be easier to just hide and pretend nothing was happing, to pretend like his real, true chance at happiness and love was now over and done, forever. But something pulled at him, some instinct, some premonition. Or maybe it was just his heart desire to see her again, one last time, before she was gone. Either way, Anthony found himself making his way toward the church. He felt lightheaded, because of the heat, perhaps, or the exertion. Or perhaps it was because of the way his heart was beating madly on his chest. He was sure that his heartbeat could be heard all the way to London, it was so loud.

He was drawing near now, he could see the gathering of people outside the church making time to go inside. Checking his pocket-watch he saw that it was still early enough to maybe catch a glimpse of Edith, one last time. He found a place outside, next to a great oak tree, and tried to make himself invisible. Not an easy feat due to his height but he has been gone from society for so long that he was pretty confident they forget about him. And there was something to be said about hiding in plain sight, he thought. So he stayed put, leaning against the tree, and biding his time. Once again he asked himself why was he doing this. He should go, leave while it was still time, but he couldn't. All those months ago he left Edith at the altar so she could find happiness. He needed to now if she was happy.

So lost was he in thought that he failed to noticed to approach of a member of the Crawleys.

"What are you doing here?" Mathew Crawley asked, sounding more surprised than annoyed at Anthony's presence.

A million answers and courses of action ran through his mind. For a moment he considered that running for the hills was a viable and reasonable way to approached Mathew question. But as he looked at the young man's face and saw nothing but honest curiosity he found himself speaking without even thinking:

"I need her to be happy." For it was indeed a necessity for him, Edith's happiness." Tell me, please, is she?"

Mathew was at a loss of words. He never thought possible that such a simple question could be so hard to answer. Looking at Anthony Strallan; his haggard demeanor, his tired voice, the pain in his eyes, Mathew knew that only the truth would do.

"I really can't say, Sir Anthony." He began. "She is better than before, when you…" Mathew hesitated when he saw Anthony Strallan flinch as if Mathew had hit him.

"Anyway," Mathew pressed on, "time went by and Edith moved on. She's even writing a column in the newspaper." Anthony nodded at that, and even managed a weak, but proud smile on her accomplishment. "Yes, she is brilliant." Anthony replied in a soft, low voice, bending his head to hide the tears that were welling in his eyes.

Mathew gave him a minute to compose himself. He noticed the tears Anthony tried to hide and, despite the embarrassment at witnessing something so private he was glad he saw it. Seeing firsthand the pain that Anthony Strallan was still going through made his decision all the more easy.

"You asked me, Sir Anthony, if Edith was happy." Mathew started, waiting until the other gentleman gave him his full attention. "No. She is not."

Anthony's only reaction was his sharp intake of breath. He looked at Mathew with so much pain in his eyes that the young man found it hard to remain stoic.

"But… I… I left so she could be happy." Anthony stammered. "How can she not be happy?" He asked, pleadingly.

Mathew only shook his head, knowing it was not his place to answer. It was something Anthony Strallan had to figure out on his own. He saw the older gentleman crumbling before his very eyes, disbelief and sorrow and pain flashing trough his face. He saw him try to make sense of this information and he saw when finally understanding dawn in his eyes.

"I've been a fool, haven't I?" He asked Mathew. But if he wanted an answer he didn't wait for one and took off in the direction of the church entrance, now deserted since the ceremony has already begun. He noticed that he was walking the same path from all those months ago, but instead of running from happiness, he was running toward it. He needed to know, from her own lips, and if she still wanted him, he would never, ever let her go.

Storming into the church, he let his eyes adjust to the dimness and with a voice deep and sonorous, ignoring everything and everyone, he called her name, stopping in the middle of the aisle. Some part of him noticed the surprised gasps from the people attending, the way Robert Crawley stood up and the way Cora Crawley put a restraining hand on his forearm. He noticed it, in some sense, but all he really saw was Edith. Gorgeous on an ivory dress, her cheeks flushed and her eyes wide and he fell in love with her all over again, harder than ever. A man standing beside her, the groom obviously, took a step forward but Anthony ignored him. His whole attention was focused on Edith.

"Edith," he started, enjoying how good, how right it felt to say her name out loud again, "are you happy?"

"Of course she is happy. She is marrying me." That other man replied for her, sounding conceited and obnoxious. At least to Anthony Strallan biased opinion.

"I'm sorry, good man, but I was asking Lady Edith, not you." Anthony replied, absentmindedly, not giving that man a second glance. Instead he faced Edith and asked again:

"Edith, please, tell me…. Are you happy?"

Time stood still for her in that moment. For a second she even thought she was having the most vivid daydream of all time. Because he couldn't really be here, could he? Crashing her wedding? But he was and he was asking her if she was happy - at her wedding day no less! – and how could he asked her that? Of course she was unhappy. But did he deserve to know? He left her, alone and humiliated and heartbroken in this very same place. He left and she had to learn to live without him, the best way she could. She felt her indignation, her sorrow rise within her. She looked at him, his bright blue eyes (and how sad they seemed!), his broad shoulders, his light hair in disarray and the words fell of her tongue without her even noticing it:

"Of course I'm not happy." She whispered. "I can't be happy. Not without you…. Never without you."

…..

He knew he was a poor figure standing there in the middle of the church in his every day cloths but he couldn't bring himself to care. Not when Edith was looking at him like they were the only people left in the world. He saw the pain there in her eyes, the hurt, but also – could it be? –a spark of something else. Waiting for her to answer him was the most nerve-wreaking moment of his life. And when the words came his world reeled and he was sure he would fall if Mathew, who was now standing behind him, hadn't grabbed him by the arm. By then the whole church was at an uproar: Robert yelling, the groom yelling, people talking loudly but all that faded to a distant buzz as he saw Edith making her way toward him and before he knew it, he was moving to her too. She was smiling, her eyes shining with tears and he could feel his own tears threatening to fall. Suddenly walking wasn't fast enough and, as one, they ran the last few feet before crashing into each other arms. Edith wrapped her arms around his neck, her hands digging into his hair while he laced his arm around her waist, lifting her off the ground. He couldn't be close enough to her. He felt her lips caress the skin of his neck, just below his ear, and it was all he could do to stifle a groan. Putting her down was hard, any amount of distance between them was too much, but it had to be done. He was almost afraid this was but a dream, but never a dream felt like this. He could fell Edith's hands resting against his chest, he could see her smile wide and brilliant, he could breathe her intoxicating scent. He let his hand travel from her arm to her shoulder, leaving a feather like caress on her neck before resting, cradling her cheek. He watched, entranced, as her eyes flutter closed and she leaned onto his touch. Seeing her like this, loving and trusting, made him fell a deep sense of remorse.

"I'm so, so sorry my love." He whispered, leaning closer to her, their foreheads almost touching. "I was a fool. Can you ever forgive me?"

"I already have." She smiled. "I've tried to move on. I really did. I was about to get married just to prove to myself and the others that I could go on without you but it all felt so dreadfully wrong. I guess I was still waiting for you to show up….. and you did."

"Can someone please explain to me what's happening here?" Michael Gregson exclaimed, torn between self-righteous rage and disbelief.

"Well, if he hadn't figured it out I guess he is not half as smart as I gave him credit for." Was Lady Violet's less than hushed remark.

"This is preposterous.!" Robert Crawley blurted, still only half-believing what was happening before his very eyes.

"Now, Robert, hush." The Dowager commanded. " We tried everything to brake their engagement off, we went out of our way to ensure that Edith moved on, even with someone like that" – she said, pointing at Michael – "and still, after all this time, they fell into each other arms as if nothing had happened. Perhaps it's time to admit defeat."

"Here, here." Was Cora's happy reply to her mother-in-law discourse.

"At least Strallan has a title." Lady Violet added, as if that was consolation enough.

The whole exchange didn't pass unnoticed to both Edith and Anthony, and even if they were positively glowing with happiness, these issues needed to be addressed.

"Michael, I'm sorry but I can't go on with this." Edith started, willing Michael to understand.

Gregson looked ready to reply indignantly but, exhaling heavily, he opted on telling the truth:

"Well, I guess I should admit that I am relieved, actually. I was very taken by you but I always knew that it wasn't love, not really." Smiling faintly he added:

"I guess this is the difference between me and Sir Anthony. He was selfless enough to leave and give you a chance at happiness, however wrong it was, while I was willing to let this charade go on."

"We were wrong for each other." Edith provided, grasping Anthony's hand tighter.

"We were. But you are not." He replied, smiling at the couple. "Best wishes to you but I guess I should be leaving." As if it was an afterthought he added:

"Though, it will be a shame to waste a perfectly good wedding."

"I think you are absolutely right." Anthony declared, deciding on the spot that that Gregson fellow was not so bad after all. Facing Edith with no small amount of trepidation he asked: "That is, if you still want me?"

"Of course I do." Edith replied, tugging at Anthony hand.

They walked the aisle together and, this time, they left together as well.