So here is just a little oneshot I did due to insomnia brought on by an overdose of caffine. Sybil/Branson is a really amazing couple, and Downton Abbey is also rather amazing so here is my rather humble tribute. I hope you enjoy!
He pulled back the curtains ever so slightly, so as not to wake her, just so there was enough light, enough to fall across the bed, enough for him to see in the first light of the day that most beautiful and perfect of things – his wife.
He stepped back and sank into the chair at the corner of the room; he leaned forward placing his chin in his hands, and simply looked on.
The sheets were pushed down, uneven and well slept in, the blanket discarded at the foot of the bed. Her back exposed to the small of her waist her dark waving tresses spread themselves over the soft white skin, which seemed to gleam in the early morning light. One hand tucked under her head, the other spread across the empty place beside her.
It was silence and all that moved was the dust that fell in dancing swirls. But that was no distraction.
She was here. She was real. She was his.
He felt such emotion as he looked at her, he felt a love he had never dare believe was real, and yet at the same time; how could she be his. So long he had waited, so long had he looked from far away and now there she was, in his bed, in their bed, sleeping so soundly.
She was perfection, her very being. Somewhere in him something stirred and he felt his eyes sharp with tears.
His thoughts drifted to the previous morning, as he had stood in front of the altar; even then as he waited, he had convinced himself deep down that she could go. She could go and he could fall. That she would realise what she could have elsewhere, he did not doubt her he never had. But he loved her, as he loved nothing else and that took away any youthful feeling of mortality he had. Every time he looked at her his soul surrendered to her. She was his existence; she carried his heart within her. But she did come and even then he could still not believe she stood next to him, smiling as she confidently passed her small bouquet of lavender, or was it violets, he could not remember, to one of her dubious sisters. He had just stared at her, and even as she turned and faced the priest, he still stared ardently.
They had exchanged vows, before Edith and Mary, before his family, and before God. In the same place he had taken his first Holy Communion some fifteen years ago. Ad he smelt the heavy scent of incense and dust, and had wandered if the foundations of this church had known in their godliness that they would be the ground on which their; Sybil's and his marriage would be formed.
The day had passed in hazy pleasantry; they had eaten tea in his mother's parlour, his brothers and sisters and huddled in as had Mary and Edith. Edith had chatted at length about engines with the men and told stories of the cars at Downton to the boys. Mary had made polite conversation with some of his sisters, but she had spent most of her time going between; standing next to Edith and smiling cautiously, talking to Sybil in hushed tones and occasionally speaking with the rest of the family abut relations in America. She had looked uncomfortable but even Tom had admitted to himself that she had made some sort of effort not to come across too proud for the sake of her little sister. Sybil had chatted animatedly, bounced new babies on her lap, and had shown extreme gratitude for the small wedding gifts bestowed on her by her new family. Yet every so often, she would look at him and their eyes would meet and for a second there was no one else in the room save them. It took everything in his being not to stride over to her, take her in his arms and carry her off to their room and make love to her.
At four o'clock Mary had risen from her seat and pointedly said, to a much engrossed Edith, that if they were to make the dock by half past five they must depart immediately. Sybil's eyes had flickered as she said almost too quickly, 'You're not going already?' Mary had smiled and taking Sybil's hand pulled her from the room with Edith. After a few minutes, Tom came to the door and looked through as he saw the sisters embracing, and Mary subtly handing Sybil a small velvet purse, and said, 'If anything should happen?' Sybil had replied in sarcastic tones that she was not expecting her new husband to abandon her just yet. Tom smiled as he listened to her typical sharp tone. After that and some embracing, goodbyes and promises from Edith to send the boys pictures of the cars, the Crawley sisters left.
As the evening passed slowly and Tom's siblings had returned to the respective homes, and his weary mother had climbed the stairs to her own room, all that were left were the newly wedded couple, standing alone in the parlour.
Tom looked at Sybil, her soft beauty burning in the candle light, she looked back at him and then for a second she stared at the floor, before looking up. 'What shall we do now then?'
'Whatever you want to Mrs. Branson?' She had grinned, as a small blush had come to her cheeks. 'Well... I... Well what do newly married couples normally do?' She said with a little hesitancy. It was too much, he strode across the room and kissed, he seized her lips with ardency and vigour, he could feel them burning beneath his touch. At first she held back but then she too began to kiss him. The hairs on the back of his neck began to stand on end, and then without breaking their kiss he lifted her up in to his arms and walked towards the door.
Sybil broke away, as she slipped her arms around his neck, 'Wait!' She breathed, he stared at her. 'I love you Tom.' He smiled at her, as she looked intently into his eyes. And slowly he started moving forward again never once looking away from her. Slowly he climbed the narrow steps and careful not to step on the creaking floor he carried her into the bedroom.
Someone had tied dried flowers to the bed posts and had lit a candle, the curtains had been closed and the bed made neatly, carefully he placed Sybil on her feet, stealing his stare only for a second to close the door. He could feel his heart beating in his mouth. He turned back to Sybil, his normally confident and bright girl suddenly had a different look on her face, it was no longer confidence but rather nervousness, not fear but nervousness. Her eyes followed his every move. He stared back at her before slowly she lifted fingers up to her hair and began to unpin the fine tresses, he watched as she slowly pulled out each individual pin. And then as her hair began to tumble across her she sank down on to the edge of the bed and leaned down to unbutton her shoes. Taking his moment Tom raised his hands and slowly began to unbutton his waist coat. She looked up at him and standing up strode up to him and pulling his hand away had said 'No, let me.' Her small fingers began to unclasp the buttons. She stared determinedly at his chest, whilst he just stared back at her. He was still completely amazed by her. 'How was she here? How was she his?' Slowly he brought his hands back up and started to unbutton her blouse, he felt her pause for a second as she let and then she pulled his waistcoat down over his shoulders and waited for him to respond in kind. He let his waistcoat fall to the floor and then continued to unbutton the front of her blouse. Beneath he could her soft white skin and the stays of her underclothes. Her fingers still fumbled with his buttons before she gave up entirely, shaking slightly she whispered 'I thought I would be better at this.' Tom smiled, 'You're perfect.' Before kissing her, he pulled down the sleeves of her blouse. In return she started tugging at his shirt and with more vehemence they began to pull at the weak fabrics, whilst moving towards the bed, at which point Sybil had fallen down and Tom straight after her.
Pulling the last of her chemise off, kissing each other furiously, Tom gasped and paused 'Are you sure you're ready?' He asked intently. Breathing readily she replied, 'Yes.' She gave a small smile at his still cautious face, 'yes' she said more steadily. And with that he kissed her and began to kiss her neck, her chest, her shoulders, before kissing her soft lips again and lifting himself just a little in order to make sure she was comfortable. Sybil's arms slipped around his neck, and he looked her deep in the eyes before whispering 'I love you,' and then he pushed against her...
What came to pass had faded into a blur, he remembered how he had made love to her for hours and, had kissed every part of her body, he had stroked her, loved her, held her tightly. He had felt her around him, the warmth, the softness, the pleasure that could only come from her. And as the night crept on and slowly she had become tired and before long had fallen fast asleep in his arms. He had closed his eyes, but very soon the sun had begun creeping under the hem of the curtains and he had risen and slowly being careful not to disturb her sleep, he had risen and gone to the window...
She blinked, her fingers stretched, her eyelids fluttered, and for a moment she slowly open and closed her eyes, before steadily bringing herself up, arching her back, and bringing her hands to her eyes, to rub them of sleep, she turned and faced Tom. Lazily the corners of her mouth lifted as she reached out to him. She did not speak, just smiled.
Smiling back, slowly he rose and walked towards the bed. She looked up at him as he came close to her. 'Good morning husband of mine.' She grinned at him, and he could not help but smile back at her.
'Good morning oh so perfect wife of mine,' He replied, leaning down towards her lips.
Their lips met, first softly and then with each lingering moment the kiss became deeper and more passionate. He raised his hand and cupped her face, with the other he leaned forward supporting himself, and slowly lay Sybil down on the bed, gentle pushing until her hair splayed out across the mattress.
They broke only for a second, as they both pulled in breath, 'God knows how much I love you Sybil.' He breathed.
She smiled, closing her eyes, whispered 'He knows and so do I.'
