A/N: I am still on the verge of bawling like a baby whenever the scene of John and Anna reading through their letters in Series 3 Episode 4. I just always wonder how long Anna had to wait to be able to read those letters in the privacy of her room from the time she receives them from Mrs. Hughes and what went through her head in that space of time. This little one shot addresses that. Please enjoy and review :)
Letters
The day had just begun and Anna was climbing the stairs to tend to Lady Mary when she was stopped by the sound of Mrs. Hughes voice, "Anna?"
Anna almost hadn't registered that anyone was talking to her, so lost in her thoughts as to what had happened to her husband. What had become of him in the weeks since his last letter arrived? How was he fairing since her last visit? During Anna's last two trips to the prison, she had been turned away and told that John's visiting hours had been suspended until further notice. Anna had returned to the Abbey that day heartbroken and cried in her room until she had to resume her duties. John had consumed her every waking moment since he'd been carted away in handcuffs that fateful morning. Mere hours after they'd been pronounced man and wife and spent the night in one another's arms he was taken from her. It seemed that whenever she wasn't thinking of John she was trying to think of someway to bring him back to her, to set him free, some piece of evidence that had yet to be discovered or had been overlooked. Anna stared back at the elder woman who had been like a mother-figure to her since she first came to Downton and realized she was waiting for an answer. "Yes?" she replied.
"There's quite a package of letters arrived for you earlier," Mrs. Hughes said as she looked down at the small stack of letters..
Anna walked quickly back down to meet the housekeeper and took the pile of letters from her. She flipped through them, her eyes barely registering anything but her name written on the envelope, reminding her of her title, 'Mrs. Anna Bates'. Oh god, it looked as though there were at least ten or fifteen letters there. She'd never have the time to read through these properly until she had a moment alone. This wasn't something she could simply glance at or skim through during her afternoon tea in the servants hall. No. This was something she'd have to read through tonight in the privacy of her own room in case there was some upsetting news in there.
She was reminded of her current location when the familiar Scottish brogue brought her back to reality. "Are they all from Mr Bates?" Mrs. Hughes asked.
Anna nodded in response to Mrs. Hughes question, but was still hardly able to believe that the envelopes in her hand were real. Weeks without a reply and she'd thought he'd forgotten about her or was trying to be gallant and push her away. She could barely tear her eyes away from the letters as tears filled her eyes and she managed a half smile when she looked up at Mrs. Hughes. "It looks like it," she said. Anna was still distracted by the presence of the letters in her hands. While it wasn't the same as having her husband back; she suddenly didn't feel so lost or alone. It was like a piece of him had been returned to her when she needed it most. Something to restore her faith and remove the doubts that had slowly begun to shroud her in darkness.
"Why so many at once?" Mrs. Hughes inquired. She had been equally worried for the welfare of her favorite Lady's Maid as she was for the Valet who had won Anna's heart. Feeling as though she had played some role in helping to put John behind bars; Mrs. Hughes surmised that the least she could do was keep an eye out for the woman she had come to love like a daughter and be the pillar of support she needed during this trying time.
Anna let out a small laugh as she tried to count out how many there were, her hands still shaking and her voice warbling with joy as she replied, "Oh, I neither know, nor care, just so long as I've got them." With tears beginning to trickle down her cheeks, Anna rushed up the steps, taking them two at a time. She happily clutched the letters in her hand and held them close to her chest, bringing them nearer to her heart. Anna had to remind herself that she still couldn't open them right away, but she felt a weight lift from her shoulders with the knowledge that her John was slowly coming back to her.
The remainder of the day was agony; the letters called to her, tempted her, but she had to remain strong. Anna knew that once she peeked even for a second at one of the letters, she wouldn't be able to stop herself at just one. The urge and need to read his distinctive scrawl that was etched with love was overwhelming. Even if she couldn't hear his voice, Anna had always been able to imagine the tone of his voice reverberating around her with that Irish lilt that she had come to love. If she closed her eyes and focused hard enough she could even still smell the hint of mint tea and cigarette smoke in his breath as he spoke to her. The temptation was proving too great each time her hand ran along the edge of the envelope that was burning a hole in her pocket. Eventually she was forced to place the pile into her button box so that she could focus on her work.
Unfortunately having the letters out of sight did little to quell her fears or anxiety. Just knowing they existed was enough to make her consider throwing her hands up at her work for the day and stowing away in her room where she could pour over her letters at her leisure. She'd nearly burnt a hole in Lady Mary's dress earlier while playing through her mind every possible scenario for why the letters had been withheld for so long. She could only imagine all the information that they held about his physical condition, his mental state, his hopes and dreams for their future. Anna had been in the middle of doing Lady Mary's hair when a thought struck her that nearly made her double over. What if the reason she had received the letters was because something had happened to John? Anna had to stifle back a sob that threatened to take her over as she finished up Lady Mary's hair unnoticed. She tried to reason with herself that if that were the case, that Mr. Murray would have contacted her or Lord Grantham. At least she hoped so. Anna sent up a silent prayer that her husband was safe and sound; well as safe as one could be in prison. Once her Ladyship was prepared for bed Anna quickly grabbed the laundry and scurried out into the hallway before anyone caught sight of how upset she was. Anna couldn't even manage to stomach her evening tea after she finished up the mending and scrubbing up Lady Mary's riding boots for the evening.
As soon as she was able, Anna began to head up the stairs taking the stairs as quickly as she was able. She prayed to herself that no one else would stop her or drag the evening out any further. Not even Mrs. Hughes, in fact she was quite certain that if the housekeeper were to stop her she'd lose her composure. The unknown was slowly eating away at her and driving her mad. She normally would have changed into her pajamas to prepare herself for bed, but Anna couldn't put this off any longer. Anna shut her bedroom door behind her and locked it without haste. She slumped down onto the bed and with a shaking hand she ran her fingertips over his handwriting. One of her tears slipped down her cheek and landed on the envelope and Anna brushed it off, hoping it hadn't soaked through the paper. Carefully but without wasting another moment, Anna tore into the envelope and removed the folded pieces of paper inside. She settled down into the length of her mattress, tucking one hand under her pillow while the other still held the letter up close enough to read. The dim light coming from the bedside lamp was just enough to read it and Anna found herself grinning like a fool as she read his words.
Just as she suspected, he too hadn't received any of her letters. Her heart ached for him as she read the change in his emotions as he became more desperate and hopeless, thinking the reason for her lapse in communication was down to her giving up on him. She read how he admonished himself for ever telling her to attempt to continue living a life without him, that it was the biggest mistake he'd ever made and most would probably think him selfish for dragging her into his problems and wanting her to continue visiting him. But he didn't care. She was all he was living for now. His light at the end of the tunnel, the very air he breathed, the first thing he thought of when he woke in the morning and the last thing he thought of as he fell asleep each night. She was forever in name and in spirit his wife and he'd rather have seen and heard from her even in fragments than to never see her again.
Anna cried tears of joy, tears of relief, just knowing that he was still well and hadn't lost faith. He still wanted her to come and visit him and continue writing to her. She could feel the exhaustion from the day's labor settling into her bones and her eyes were barely able to stay open a moment longer. But his letters were like a beacon of hope, comforting her, even from a distance. She curled up into her bed as she continued to read into the night.