"Well, we're doing quite well. What do you think, Darling?" Mary asked her three-year-old boy, while taking a step back and admiring the huge Christmas tree they began to decorate. It had been brought into the impressive hall of Downton Abbey in the morning, and as soon as the children woke up from their nap, Nanny took them downstairs, where they met their respective parents and marvelled at the sight of the tree.
While Tom and little Sybbie went to the kitchen, in order to look for the traditional gingerbread ornaments baked by Mrs Patmore, Mary and George hung the first wooden angels and fabric hearts. Edith and Marigold, who went for a walk in the gardens, shouldn't be long and would surely join them soon.
"Me like it, Mama," the little boy cheerfully answered, quite proud to be able to express himself, making his mother smile. He looked like a perfect little man in his green jumpers and waxed shoes. The more he grew up, the more he resembled his father.
"Have you chosen the next one?" Mary asked, looking lovingly at her little chap as he knelt down and picked out of its box one of his mother's favourite ornament: a small and finely carved wooden angel, represented with golden hair and watchful eyes. Big and soft feathered wings were wrapping it like a winter coat. Mary first saw it when she was a little girl, and after all these years, it was still in a perfect state of conservation.
"Want to put this one up," George told as he looked closer at the figure he was holding in his small but careful hands.
"You might need some help for that, sweetheart," his mother smiled, before taking her son in her arms, and lifting him up, so that he could hang the small angel himself.
George leaned towards the huge tree, feeling safer than safe in his mother's protective arms. He finally found the perfect branch for the ornament, and delicately suspended it. Once it was done, the little heir stared at the wooden angel silently.
"What is it, Darling? Don't you like it?" Mary inquired after a moment, noticing the boy's sudden change of mood.
"Is that Papa?" George finally said, his blue eyes still locked on the figure, before looking at his Mama, waiting for her answer.
Mary clearly wasn't expecting her son to ask about his father at this time, and it took her a little time to pull herself together, while trying to hide her surprise and the pinch of sadness she suddenly felt at the memory of Matthew. How delighted he would have been if he were still alive and here, helping his wife and child to decorate the Christmas tree on this festive and particularly enjoyable time. How delight she would have been to have him here.
"Well," Mary answered, finding it hard to get the right words. "I think you're right, Darling. You Papa might be very much like this little angel."
She held her son closer to her while staring at the wooden ornament, trying to see what George saw in it. She couldn't help but agree: it was just like Matthew. Same blonde hair and same blue eyes, the ones George had unquestionably inherited from his father.
"You see, sweetheart: even if you Papa is not here anymore to hold you in his arms or to kiss you on the forehead before you go to sleep, as he should have been, he's still watching us from where he is," Mary said, guessing that George might not have understood what she meant. "And I'm sure he's very proud of his little chap," she added, before resting her head against her son's, cradling him softly.
Both stayed in silence for a few minutes, George looking at the figure which now represented the one he would never meet, and Mary thanking Matthew for taking such good care of them.
"Darling, can I entrust you with a very specific task?" she asked while looking at the little boy. When his eyes met hers, she knew she had her son's attention. "I count on you, George, to find this little angel the best emplacement on the Christmas tree every year. We need to take great care of it. Could you do that?"
"Yes, Mama," the boy cheerfully answered, offering a huge smile to Mary, one of those she couldn't help but return to him.
A few minutes later, Edith appeared in the room, holding little Marigold in her arms. They were quickly followed by Nanny, who obviously accompanied them during their walk.
"You've already started the decorations?" Edith asked her sister, while joining them near the Christmas tree.
"George was impatient," Mary explained with a smile, before letting her son go and fetch some new ornaments. "But we've let you some. A lot, actually."
A few boxes were opened compared to all those which were still on the ground, waiting to be picked up by one of the children.
"Let's get to work, then," Edith cheerfully announced, and knelt down in order to choose the first figure she would hang on the traditional tree, her daughter still in her arms.
Tom and Sybbie returned from the kitchen half an hour later, both carrying metal trays. The former chauffeur apologized for the delay, explaining how Mrs Patmore burnt the first gingerbread men she made, and how they volunteered to eat some of the spoiled biscuits while waiting for the next batch. Then, they quickly joined the rest of the family in the very important mission they were trying to accomplish: giving some colours and sparkles to the bare pine tree.
THE END.
Hi!
First, thanks for reading this story, I hope you enjoyed it. In one of the Christmas Special promotional videos, we can actually see George speak for the first time, so I've decided to let him express himself a bit. And I liked the idea of him remembering his father through a wooden angel that would actually look like Matthew.
I'm sorry for any grammar or syntax mistake I probably made, I'm French and I tried to offer you the best I could do in that text :)
This will probably be my last contribution to this fandom for the year 2014, so we'll meet again next year. I wish you all a happy Christmas, and the very best of everything for 2015 (and a happy Downton Day on the 25th, let's not forget that ;), I hope you'll all have a wonderful time with your family and friends!