This fic was written in response to the prompt given to me by the awesome The Yankee Countess, an author of excellent S/T stories. Therefore, I would like to dedicate this piece to her and thank her for the beta :):)

The prompt was "What if Sybil was regarded as the ugly sister?"

Reviews are very much appreciated :)

A Real Beauty

1914

Sybil Crawley was the ugly sister. Even when Sybil had been a child, each compliment that had been paid to her had sounded false. In contrast, all the praises directed at her sisters had been genuine and emotional. When they grew up, this became even more evident – Mary and Edith began to have numbers of admirers, whereas Sybil did not receive any love letters or boys' attentions. What was worst, though, was that Sybil had just learnt that her parents thought the same. When she had passed by their bedroom, she had heard them talking about their daughters' future. In their opinion, Sybil was the one that would stay with them and nurse them in old age.

"Even my parents think that I'm ugly," Sybil cried into her pillow. But she did not intend to resign herself to becoming her parents' nurse or a timid mouse that stood in the corner. No, there was a lot to be done. She wanted to do something, to devote herself to various causes, like the suffrage movement or charity. She would be a strong, independent woman, not afraid to speak her mind and to live as she pleased.

Even though she would never taste love.

Sybil Crawley was too jaded about love.

It was her first season and her first ball. Because of this, some boys did ask her to dance out of courtesy (also due to the fact that she was an Earl's daughter). She knew that it wasn't sincere. She could only look with jealousy at Mary and Edith, twirling around merrily, surrounded by men of various ages.

Sybil needed to breathe some fresh air.

She decided to take a little walk around the gardens; she just didn't predict that she was not the only person who thought about this.

"Branson!" she exclaimed in surprise as she encountered her father's chauffeur, Tom Branson, strolling down the same path.

"Milady," the young man replied, suspiciously calm. Had he expected to meet her there?

"I'm a bit tired, but we're not going home yet. Mama and Papa won't be pleased if I return from the ball too early."

"I understand."

Neither of them knew why, but they now began walking down the garden path together.

It wasn't Sybil's first conversation with the chauffeur. Branson was very political and they often talked about women's rights and liberalism in the car. Sybil didn't mind talking to servants about things that weren't closely related to their jobs.

"You don't enjoy the ball, milady?", the young man suddenly asked.

Sybil laughed bitterly. "Branson, look at me. How can someone like me enjoy balls? Unless giving a piece of mind to Larry Grey is an entertainment enough."

Branson had to chuckle at this. Sybil Crawley was so… special. She was an extraordinarily kind person with the sweetest of tempers, but at the same time she could give one a piece of her mind! He had to admit to himself that he admired this lady.

"Don't you like dancing, milady?"

"Actually, I do like to dance. But you can't dance on your own, can you?"

"How can a man not like to dance with you, milady? A lady so kind, clever, witty, opinionated, and with a wide variety of interests?"

Sybil sneered. "Oh, Branson. You don't need to play this game. I always tell my father that you're an excellent driver."

"I'm not playing any game. I'm just sincere."

"It's not only about the inside that counts, I'm afraid," Sybil sighed loudly.

"In my opinion, the most important thing is that you're a charming conversationalist."

Sybil chuckled. "You're a complete idealist, Branson. I'm not so naïve, however, to think the same."

Branson shook his hand. "Yes, there are men who only value external beauty in women, but not all the men are as such."

Sybil wondered briefly whether this man was truly that naïve. He was himself a handsome man, for sure he hadn't complained about lack of female interest during parties in his native Ireland. From what she had learnt about Branson, he didn't seem naïve. An idealist, certainly, but not naïve. He simply understands that flattering me may work to his advantage.

1916

Sybil had not expected it. She only came to the garage to talk about her work as a nurse. She was startled by what she heard.

"Branson… why are you doing this to me? Why are you ruining our friendship?"

"Milady, if you just don't feel the same…"

"It's not about me feeling or not feeling the same… It's about this being ridiculous!" Sybil yelled.

It was Tom's turn to be shocked. "Why do you think that my feelings for you are ridiculous? They're honest and strong. So strong that… I couldn't stay quiet anymore. I love you with my whole being," he passionately declared.

Sybil shook her head. "You're my friend, so I don't suspect you of any dishonest motives, but you… you just do it out of pity or because it's so thrilling to fall in love with your employer's daughter…"

The young man became furious at those words. "Why can't I love you? Why? Because you're a lady, and I'm a servant?"

"No, because love is basically lust, and I'm physically unattractive, while you're very handsome," Sybil stated and left the garage without a further word.

1918

They didn't stop meeting each other and they continued to be friends. Branson did not renew his advances, but Sybil did not regain her peace of mind. She thought about the whole matter very often and tried to fight her own feelings for the chauffeur. Branson's declaration irreversibly shattered her previously ordered and balanced existence and threw her into a flurry of strong emotions.

One day, when they were sitting in the garage as usual, Branson unexpectedly announced, "It's time for me to leave Downton. I want to make my own life. But I can't leave without asking you again…"

Sybil felt her whole body tremble. She opened her mouth to cut the matter short immediately, but couldn't utter even a word. Stop it.

"Sybil…" Tom moved closer and reached out to take her hand into his. "If you need more time to think about this or to prepare yourself for a new challenge, tell me. Just tell me if there is any chance that you may say "yes" one day, please…"

Sybil felt her eyes well up with tears at his passionate plea. "I…"

Stop it. Stop it. It will inevitably lead to hurt. It's all just a silly illusion…

She didn't know how this happened, but somewhat their lips met. It was wonderful. And it was more than just a physical sensation; she felt her whole soul soar.

She still didn't know why, but when they parted, her lips murmured a silent "yes".

Suddenly, the garage door opened. Sybil and Branson turned around instantly to see who it was. To their dread, it was Charles Carson, the Crawley family's butler.

As expected, Carson told everything to Lord Grantham, who immediately came to see his daughter. The Earl fired Branson on the spot and ordered Sybil to finish her relationship with the chauffeur, but the young woman refused to do so and announced that she and Tom (she could only call him by his first name now) were going to be married soon.

Sybil also decided to see Tom and assure him that she was still willing to run away with him. Once she approached the chauffeur's cottage, however, she noticed that her father beat her to it. Through the window, she saw Lord Grantham pacing around the small room and shouting, while her fiancé was sitting at the chair and striving to remain calm. Thankfully, one of the windows was open, and Sybil could hear the entire conversation that was taking place inside.

"Just leave us alone!" bellowed Lord Grantham.

"No, unless Sybil wants me to," was Tom's peaceful response.

"All right, I thought from the beginning that it was all about this…" Robert Crawley growled and sat at the chair opposite Tom, drawing out a chequebook and a pen.

Tom's face turned pale. "You can't imply…"

"How much?" Robert interrupted him.

"Nothing!" yelled Tom in impatience, "I don't want any money from you, sir. I simply love Sybil and want to spend my life with her. That's all, that's it."

"I'll be generous, I promise. Just leave us alone."

"No, sir! I only want to be with Sybil!" Tom now got up from his chair.

"You can't love her!"

"Why!?" shouted Tom angrily, "because all of her life you treated her as the worse one destined to become her parents' nurse? She's much, much more than just a face."

At that moment, Sybil made up her mind to enter the cottage. She immediately went to Tom and took his hand into hers.

Lord Grantham stood up. "What the…"

"Tom's right, Papa. Women are more than pretty or plain faces. Tom showed me that not all men are the same, and that true love exists. In contrast, all you've ever taught me is that I'm the worse 'commodity' on the marriage market," Sybil stated in a loud and clear voice.

Lord Grantham was rendered speechless.

Sybil, meanwhile, continued, "I and Tom love each other and we will marry soon. That's my final decision. As Tom has said – that's all, that's it."

"Right," Robert finally muttered and stormed out of the cottage.

The young lovers, on the other hand, threw themselves into each other's arms and drowned into a deep, ardent kiss.

The last barrier was broken. When Sybil had accepted Tom's proposal, she still had had her doubts. Now she was certain that her choice was the right one, and she finally allowed herself to fully believe that her and Tom's love was genuine. What she had just said to her father was completely true – Tom had shown her that her jaded view of love had been incorrect through his unwavering devotion.

1920

The door of their Dublin flat opened, signaling that Tom returned home. Sybil smiled to herself and rose from the chair to greet her husband, with Baby Saoirse in her arms. Tom's face also bore a large grin and he bent down to kiss his two dearest women. "You look beautiful, " he whispered to Sybil.

And Sybil knew that his words were true. It didn't matter that she was in yesterday's dress, her figure did not return to its pre-pregnancy form, and that there were circles under her eyes. To Tom, she was always beautiful, and this knowledge made her feel beautiful as well.

Similarly, Tom also cherished the family moment. Despite visible tiredness, Sybil looked radiant, and this warmed his heart.

His darling Sybil. A real beauty, inside and out.