A/N: So, during my annual rewatch of Downton this year, I somehow thought to myself "what if I wrote a ficlet for every episode of DA, expanding on what we saw?" And so the challenge was set.
This will probably take some time to complete (some wounds are a little too fresh) but I'm determined to do it.
Disclaimer: Downton Abbey belongs to Julian Fellowes/Carnival/ITV, not me.
Tears on the Pillow
The small room was silent, the hour late – or far too early. All too soon she would need to stretch out her tired limbs, rise for a day that would be much like the thousands that preceded it. Her days had never been the same since a month or so ago, new conversations and manners that brought forth curiosity, a sense of calm as well as excitement, and distinctive smiles that had never before fit her lips most of all.
Anna buried her face into the pillow, hoping it would be enough to muffle the sobs that were increasing. She couldn't remember the last time she had cried. It was most likely when she had mistakenly stained one of the girls' dresses beyond repair, but that was some years ago now. Her eyes stung and her throat ached and she wanted to tell herself to stop being so silly. Yet she simply wasn't able.
She couldn't bear unfairness, and it was ever so unfair that Mr Bates would have to go. It surprised her the way people had acted around him, the doubt in his abilities and looks full of pity. From what she could see he did his job perfectly well. He was eager and diligent, he could stitch just as finely as any maid which was a skill she knew took some time to master. Surely the way he was always immaculately turned out spoke about his eye for detail.
He was a gentleman too, that much she knew. A few times he had stopped as they had both made for the exit to the hall at the same time, hooking his cane on his arm to hold the door open for her, and he waited to let the women sit down at the table first. She liked that. His eyes held a certain mystery that fascinated her but they were always kind whenever he looked at her. His smiles were few – and she certainly didn't blame him - but when they came, like a ray of longed-for sun on a winter's day, they were enough to make everything seem easier. They held a promise, and Anna longed to know what it was.
Perhaps one more could be coaxed from him, a sorrowful one as he bid goodbye to Lord Grantham. A leaving present that she would hold dear in her mind. He had managed to smile for her and even comfort her, when she was the one who should have been offering more to him. His dignity moved her deeply, and she still felt the catch of her breath in her throat as time had seemed to stand still between them both. How she wished it would have.
Anna wiped the trickle of tears from her eyes onto the pillow's edge. Maybe she would learn from his example in time, but for this one night she let them flow.
She would not have expected to smile the next day, yet from the moment he stepped back into the servants' hall and announced he wouldn't be leaving after all, it stayed with her for every second.