A.N.: Inspired by a post on Tumblr - the place where all the plotbunnies run wild.

Disclaimer: Never say never.

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He had expected the garden party to be a success, as it always was. But Mrs. Hughes had outdone herself this year. He congratulated her on the execution of the event, but what he really meant was to express his admiration at how swiftly and firmly she had been able to hold the fort, even in the light of recent happenings.

That he admired and respected her was not a secret – he thought she must have known about it. If she hadn't before, she certainly did now.

It had been a week since the last time they had talked. A week he spent going over every single word he had said that night in her parlour. A week he spent in no less than utter agony, waiting.

He made his rounds around the party, trying to find an excuse to talk to her again. She stood in front of the tent reserved for the staff, her back to him, and even so he could see she was ordering Anna and Gwen around. She was, of course, on full housekeeper mode. Perhaps this wasn't the best time to bring their conversation up?

However, as he made his way to His Lordship to hand him a telegram – not once thinking about the possible contents of it, so preoccupied he was with other matters – he caught a glimpse of her from the corner of his eye. Unless he was mistaken, she seemed to be smiling. An invitation?

"Your Lordship, this has just arrived for you" He quickly informed Lord Grantham about the situation with Thomas, and turned around to leave, seeking her once more. His eyes found hers, and he confirmed his suspicions: yes, she was smiling. Nervously? He didn't know. But he knew it was a smile directed at him.

He walked over to her, trying his best to maintain an even, calm stride. It would not do for the butler of Downton Abbey to be seen running like a madman across the grounds of the estate. The distance in between them seemed to stretch on for miles. Finally, finally, he reached her, and hesitated for a moment before taking his place beside her – keeping an appropriate distance, as always. They stood, both looking ahead, not acknowledging each other, for several minutes, until he couldn't take it anymore.

"Have you been thinking about it, then?" he asked, as if they were in the middle of a conversation. In a way, they were.

"Of course I have" she answered immediately. Moving her head slightly to be able to look at him from the corner of her eye, she said "I said I would"

And in that moment he knew she had made a decision. For better or for worse. How ironic, he thought.

He tried to ignore the loud thump of his heart in his ears and focus on her, and wished he didn't. She was biting her lip. She often did that when she didn't know how to say what she wanted to say. And he was positive that it was not something he would want to hear.

But he had to.

He raised his eyebrows inquisitively at her but noticed she wasn't looking at him anymore "And I trust you have reached a decision?" he said, hoping to regain her attention.

But she didn't turn to him. Her gaze was fixed on Lord Grantham, who seemed agitated as he all but ran into the middle of the area of the party.

"Will you stop, please?" they heard him say as he waved with his hat to the band.

As the guests fell silent, Lord Grantham announced something that, Mr. Carson realized, was going to change Downton forever.

X

They didn't have a chance to finish their conversation. It didn't seem appropriate, somehow, not now that there was a war on.

As soon as His Lordship had finished his announcement, all hell broke loose. Mrs. Hughes had looked at him for a moment, and he had known she was feeling the same as he: completely lost. But a few seconds later she had seemed to have composed herself, and turned away from him to instruct Anna about what to do next.

He had not seen her since.

He half hoped she would be there when he opened the door to his pantry. However, it was past midnight already, no doubt she would be in bed. She deserved it too, with all the work she had done in the day.

He sighed heavily, feeling the strain of the day catching up with him all at once. No point in staying, he thought. She would not come tonight, and God knows when they would have a chance to talk again. He took one last look around his pantry, as if he thought she would suddenly appear from behind one of the curtains, before turning around and opening the door.

This caused him to look straight into the eyes of Elsie Hughes.

So she had come, then. How long had she stayed there, outside his door, biting her lip, longing for the courage to knock? Perhaps it would be best if they delayed their conversation. After all, they were both exhausted, and could end up saying things they would regret. But no, he trusted she would not have come if she hadn't made up her mind completely.

He said not a word as he opened the door wider to let her in. Closing the door behind her, he motioned to the chair in front of his desk, but she declined. She did not plan to stay long, apparently. He sighed. Hearing what she was about to say was most certainly not going to be easy, but he would remain impassive, for her sake. He thought of how uncomfortable the situation must be for her, and almost regretted putting her in it in the first place. Almost. No matter the outcome, there would always be a part of him that thought it was the most sensible thing he had ever done in his life.

He stood in front of her, waiting. Not daring to look at her, lest she would think he was pressuring her on. He had already waited a week; he could wait all night if she wanted him to.

"I suppose this changes things" her voice was so small he almost didn't hear her.

She was talking about the war, of course. It will undoubtedly change things. Hadn't it been his very first thought after knowing they were at war – how things would never be the same again?

"It does, yes" he said, waiting for her to expand on her thoughts.

But she didn't. At his words she looked up at him sharply, and took a step back, as if she was frightened. In a second, the shock was gone and replaced by what he could only describe as disappointment.

"Mrs. Hughes" he started, hoping to understand her reaction, but she interrupted him.

"Good night, then, Mr. Carson"

She had her hand on the doorknob when he realized what she said.

"Mrs. Hughes, wait" he took one step forward, and it was all he could do to keep himself from reaching out to grasp her hand.

She turned around to face him, and he saw the same look in her face he had seen earlier, at the party, after the announcement of war.

She said nothing, so he continued.

"Elsie" he tried not to think that this would be the last time he would ever say her name. In fact, the number of times he had said it could be counted in the fingers of one hand. He hadn't even used it during their talk last week. Had not dared to. He also tried not to think of how sad and pathetic he must look now "Don't you think I deserve more than this?"

"I don't understand what you mean, Mr. Carson"

He should have said good night. Then he would now be alone to deal with whatever it was that he was feeling at the moment.

Truth was, he knew things would turn out like this. That night, a week ago, when they drank wine in her parlour and he said what he had wanted to say for years – even then, he had had no false hopes. The agony that had consumed him in the past few days was because he did not know how - and if- they would go back to what they were before that night.

"I know what you came here to say" he had known all along "Could you please say it?"

There was no other way to explain it. He needed to hear her say the words – he needed it to be real. Perhaps it would be worse if she said it. But he knew he wouldn't have a moment's rest if she didn't.

"What do you want me to say?" she asked, confused. She most likely thought he wouldn't want to hear it.

"You have reached a decision" he mirrored his words from before, picking up where they left off.

Her expression changed – she seemed confused. She tilted her head to the side, her brow furrowed. And then, realization seemed to hit her. At the same it did him.

When she had asked him if things would change with the war, she had not meant the world; she had not even meant Downton, as he thought she had. She had meant them, their world. They had misunderstood one another.

He needed to make things clear, to make her understand, before she decided she was too tired to listen to him anymore. Hurriedly, he said:

"Mrs. Hughes, the war does not mean..." but she spoke at the same time.

"Yes" she said.

He nodded, knowing he understood him. "And...?"

"And... yes" she repeated, matter-of-factly.

"Yes, you have reached a decision. And your decision is...?" he urged her. It wasn't too difficult, was it? He just needed to hear her say it, so he could go to bed and put this dreadful day behind him.

"Yes" she smiled.

It was his turn to be confused. Why did she keep saying that?

"Yes?" he asked, simply because he didn't know what else to say.

"Yes" she took one step forward, her hand finding his "Charles, this is my decision. I'm saying yes"

It was, ironically, the sound of his name coming from her lips for the very first time that caused his heart to start beating faster.

"You mean..."

"I mean I'll marry you" she laughed happily "Of course I will"

Of course. Of course she will. It was as if there was never any doubt about it. She had known what her answer would be all along. But he had never allowed himself to hope.

"Charles?"

It occurred to him that she had just accepted his proposal of marriage – the one he had made her that night, a week ago – his clumsy, fumbled and much too formal proposal of marriage. And he had done nothing but stare at her, dumbfounded.

He awoke from his haze then, a smile breaking into his face.

He had never thought this could happen.

If, in the future, someone asked him about the war and how much changed because of it, he would think about this very moment, when his lips neared hers.

He was not a fool. He knew that when the war really started, when Downton started losing its people to it, there would be heartbreak and tears. It would be the hardest thing any of them could ever face, and who knows how long it could go on for.

But for now, as their lips united for the very first time, Charles Carson realized he had something he had never had before: hope.

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