AN: Wow, managed to sneak in a little ficlet. It came to me after seeing a pic of these two dorks holding hands. I was suddenly overwhelmed with feels and had to write my thoughts down. Hope you enjoy!
It was her hands that drew his attention.
Perhaps it was an odd thing to be attracted to, but in his mind it made perfect sense. Robert couldn't remember the time before he had admitted his love to Cora, not really, but one memory was very clear in his mind.
He had been nothing more than a boy, really. Unable to communicate the deeper feelings that he felt. And it had not been a problem for him. It was how he was brought up and it was how he saw the people around him live their daily lives. But when he was put to the test, he failed fairly miserably. She came crashing into his world and when before nothing had managed to ruffle his feathers, it became quite clear there was something wrong with how he conveyed his emotions.
His tongue just didn't work. He was fidgety and nervous. He couldn't hold eye contact with her. He couldn't stand up for her.
Over time, after they had married and lived together at Downton for some months, he saw the bright and outgoing girl – a woman now, as she was constantly reminded, but how could she be one if he didn't feel like a man – disappear. And she turned into him. Quiet, nervous, unsure as to what to say.
It broke his heart. As an older man, Robert could easily say he loved her the moment he saw her, but even for years after his confession he doubted the exact moment. He hadn't wanted to hurt her, he still didn't, Cora deserved much, much more. And there was the shame he felt in being so slow to realise how to make his feelings known.
But there they were, two young people, married, in a large house far from regular human contact, and forced to spend time with each other. Robert could still remember the silence between them. The fire crackling in the Library, distant steps of the servants and Downton groaning in a way only a house of history can. And still, not a word said with ease passed between them. At some point, Robert just gave up and obviously Cora, seeing his discomfort, did the same. Robert didn't doubt it hurt her to do it.
The seasons passed and something changed in him. No, she wasn't the same bubbly girl who had swept into his world in a flurry of confusion, but she adapted to Downton and the responsibilites that were expected of her. And Robert saw this and more. She became a source of interest for him. Years later he wished he had been smarter, less shy and just told her of his feelings then, but perhaps he was still not ready. Be as it was, he watched her. And he noticed her sad eyes, her back that drooped when she thought no one was looking and the deep breaths she had to take to calm herself when his mother made a snide comment at her.
All this managed to make Robert feel like the most dreatful husband. But what could he do? Oh, the Robert of the future, when he had learnt more and experienced loss, could very easily tell that young man what he should have done, but we all wish we had this sort of foresight.
But one afternoon, when he had stepped into her room to speak of a dinner Mama was going to host that evening, he noticed something. After speaking of the preparations being made for that evening, a silence fell between them. It wasn't comfortable, but it wasn't awkward either. Robert had noticed the slight change in the way they moved in the silence and it made him hopeful talking and spending time with each other would get easier. But more importantly, this new quietness gave him another opportunity to watch her. Cora was sitting at her vanity table, writing a letter, to her father probably. Her left hand rested lightly on the corner of the paper, the fingers relaxed. The other was gripping the fountain pen tightly, and out of the movement of her hand appeared graceful, looping letters on the paper. Her skin looked soft, he knew that it was, thought he quite suddenly realised he had barely ever held her hand. How shocking this was to him. Robert had kissed her, awkward as it was at times, and had been intimate with her, which was pleasant, but the aftermath was far more unnerving for both of them, neither knowing how to behave. But he never held her hand. Placed it in the crook of his hand, of course, but her fingers had never interwined with his.
Robert suddenly felt he needed to feel them. So he walked up to her, sat next close to her and took her left hand in his. As though their fingers had been wating for this moment for ages, they automatically slipped between the other's. And Robert could hardly breathe. How warm and gentle her fingers were, how perfectly they fit his. How could he have never thought of doing this before? Robert silently mused if she enjoyed his touch as much as he was overwhelmed by hers. He didn't have time or mind to think if his action seemed a very odd and out-of-character thing to do, but the expression on her face was his answer and reward. Those lovely shocked eyes, pale and soulful, turned to him and slowly, softened.
"Are you alright, Robert? Was there something you wanted?" she asked, but she knew why he had done it. It was impossible to ignore the change that took place between them on that afternoon. The only response she got was him squeezing her fingers and closing his eyes. The silence that followed was answer enough.
Standing in the same room years later, Robert thought of that moment. The setting was much the same, though of course, Cora was now writing a letter for her mother, her father having passed years ago. It was just a few short moments before he had to go downstairs, say goodbye to his family and depart for America to help his brother-in-law. Amusingly, Cora felt she had to give him a letter for her mother, where her displeasure of the entire situation was made clear. Her hands were different then. The skin was thinner, the veins more apparent and the writing perhaps not as loopy. But it was still her. And looking at her hands now and vaguely hearing the murmurings of annoyance coming from her mouth, he thought of the first time everything started feeling normal between them.
"Make sure she gets this immediately, I don't want her to feel as thought she can just take advantage of you, and us really, and throw you around here and there, " she said and finally finishing the letter, stuffed it into the envelope. She stood, and walking up to him, tucked it into his jacket.
Robert smiled. "She won't have the chance to say anything to me before you have had your words with her, even if it is on a paper. I can promise you that." Cora gave a light laugh at these words, though he knew she was miserable. They hadn't been apart this long for years now and they had had too much sorrow in their own lives here at Downton to take a seperation lightly.
They walked downstairs slowly. Everybody else was waiting outside, giving them a moment together. When Robert recalled this scene later on the rocking boat, the words that passed between them were in the end not that important. It was the moment their hands clasped together, so naturally as though they had been created as one, that made him feel warm inside. Her kiss was a nectar that kept him alive for the rest of the journey and beyond, but the sweet feel of her fingers kept the remainder of herself on the forefront of his mind. But at this moment, those few seconds it took them to reach their family waiting outside was enough to press the imprint of her hands to his and remind him of the time words were not the first way he had expressed his love to her.