A/N: I basically wrote this all this afternoon while having a slow day at work. Bit different from my usual one-shots, so hopefully you'll like it. Remember to let me know your thoughts - we, poor fanfiction writers, can't know if you liked it or not if you don't say! Reviews make me very happy indeed. ;) Much thanks to Terrie for editing this right away so I could post it today. Thanks for reading!
Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own Downton Abbey.
Song of the Heart by fuzzydream
Deny me light, deny me spring
But never your laughter, for I would die.
- Pablo Neruda
The first thing he noticed were her eyes.
She looked at him differently, at least from the others. The others doubted him – she didn't. At first, he thought he had seen pity in that soft, careful look. He noticed how she gazed at his cane when he introduced himself, but he never noticed her staring after that. She might have pitied him, but perhaps because she knew how the others could be hostile. Her eyes searched him, and whenever he looked they were kind and light and held no assumptions. He saw tears in them when they said goodbye for the first time, and relief when he came back, announcing he was to stay.
He began searching for her eyes too – a joke, a hidden thought to be shared with her later, the knowing look she gave him as she sensed he was looking directly at her. It soon became an unconscious act, as it was natural to search for those bright blue eyes, whether for a cautious glance that would tell her they needed to talk later, or a humorous look after something someone had said.
Her eyes held no prejudice, no anger, no evil; they were pure and bright and peaceful and yet still held a fire like he had never seen before. She knew her place but she also knew how to fight for it. Soon, he could see that fire igniting for him – fighting for him.
Her eyes met his and he fell in love.
Her smile was enchanting. She gave it freely, though she knew how to reprimand people and the girls in her charge. It was hard not to like her; she always sat next to him – he suspected at first that that had always been her seat, but years later she would admit to him that she only sat there so she could sit next him – and it was easy to engage in conversation. They talked of everything and anything. At first, the conversations were quiet and somewhat cautious. She would let out a soft giggle every now and then, but that was it.
She spoke more freely with time. He loved to know her thoughts and opinions – he found out quickly that she had a strong mind and he loved her for it. She was his equal, from the beginning, and he suspected she liked being treated like that. Her laughter flowed easily with her smiles and at first he doubted they were exclusive to him.
But they were. She would always smile good morning at him, despite waking up a bit cranky every day. She smiled for him, and her smiles brightened his days and her laughter made his life a better place. He would never tire of hearing it, and he would always try to answer to her smile with one of his own, for he knew how much her happiness depended on it.
He would never know why she gave him so much, and he would never know how he was even worthy of them, but he wouldn't mind living this life and never finding out if it meant she would never leave his side.
And that she didn't.
He hated her tears, and how he was often the one to blame for them. She suffered for him, and she suffered for loving him, and she was too stubborn to listen to him – to give up on him. And he would always love her for it.
He slowly learned to live with her tears, much as he hated it. As she told him multiple times, it was worse without him – as she professed so many times, she would not live without him. And he prayed she would, for he knew the separation and the heartbreak would eventually be too much. He hated himself for being the cause of her sadness and he hated that his own foolish, childish decisions from long ago were what kept them apart for so long. But she was too stubborn and weak man that he was, he could not refuse her.
He learned to live with her tears and to kiss them away – to feel their salty taste on his lips before claiming her own as his. She was always too sweet for her tears, too precious to be so sad, but he hoped this could change.
Because even through all the misery and the tears and the separation, his Anna remained strong and her faith never faltered, even when he wondered if he had any left. But if he did, it was solely because of her. Even when all their hopes were shattered with the trial, they were able to stand up and face a chance to see a different future for them.
And they got that future.
Married life provided them more freedom and life together let Anna show new sides of her he did not know existed.
Every so often he would complain that she couldn't keep her hands off him; she blushed once or twice before realising he was teasing her, and would often smack his arm lightly before pulling him for another kiss. In truth, it was him who could not keep his hands off her. She was too beautiful – her skin was so soft, and her voice was so sweet and her hair was so glossy. God, he loved her – every inch of her, and he was now free to prove it every day and every night.
She would often initiate intimacy and he loved her for it – how she was unafraid to please him or let him please her, how she enjoyed teasing him with words and touches and how she kissed him languidly and urgently at the same time. He was sure Anna would be the death of him, but oh, what a great way to go it was. She was as brave as she always was in any aspect of their relationship, and he was only sorry their time together was often limited. It wasn't as if they didn't make good use of it, though.
She kept everything in right order and he knew he frustrated her whenever he left his shoes in the parlour or draped his coat over a chair, and he tried – he really tried – to remember not to do this, but every so often it still happened. He apologised when he felt she was particularly annoyed, and that seemed to do it for her – he would get a kiss afterwards and she would say it was not a problem.
He would buy her her favourite pie and prepare her a bath and read to her, and she would surprise him with a new book for them to read together, and even convinced him to go out and have their photograph taken – and it now proudly rested on her bedside table, and he liked the sight of it first thing in the morning, accompanied by her soft snores and the smell of her hair.
He found that she was rather fond of singing to herself, even though she was flustered to find him listening and claimed that she didn't have a good voice. He strongly disagreed, but would tease her about it, surprising her on occasion while singing along when he did know the song until she glared at him but laughed when he continued on with the singing. Happiness had come to them, at last.
But not for long.
She didn't laugh anymore – in fact, she didn't speak much. But he missed her laughter and her careless smiles and oh, how he missed their conversations and mindless chats before sleep. Her silence was loud on his ears, and it pained him that he hadn't been able to protect her like he should have – as he vowed he always would. His love for her only increased as his anger grew; he once promisedhe wouldn't be the cause of her tears, and he should have made sure no one else would either.
But he had failed her, and he couldn't help but blame himself for all the misery she was put through. Anna deserved so much more – Anna deserved the world. And yet she still had wondered if she deserved him, when she was incapable of fault. His darling, dear wife.
Their time in the cottage was quiet, and they lived day to day – every day could be a small step forward, or would find them stuck in the same place. Their conversations were careful, their touches were hesitant. The tears were constant at first, and were gradually becoming less. The smiles were forced, with a touch of concern in them. But he considered every day a success if it ended with the two of them reading together, with his arm around her shoulders, and she slept peacefully afterwards. Every new touch was considered progress, every day without a tear and every night without a nightmare was a step forward.
He had faith they would get through this, but he found that it was not easy to be the positive one when his dear Anna still had so many doubts regarding their future. He didn't doubt; his future was hers, and belonged to her, no matter what happened or if they remained the same. Their relationship had changed, along with themselves, but his love only remained stronger.
A kiss came after a few weeks, however sweet and quick it was – the hesitant touch of lips, and the distance between them returned again. He would wait for her eternally if he could, and he did not push her for more. He had not expected it, having just proclaimed it was time for sleep and he blew the candle out before lying down, only to feel the slightest touch of her lips against his, followed by a whisper of soft 'goodnight'.
He was smiling in his sleep that night.
Autumn came and as the leaves fell off the trees, Anna's smile bloomed. It was not as vibrant and as open as it once was, but it was there – to greet him nearly every day, to kiss him goodnight and to welcome him back home. Their teasing was slowly returning too – the touches were more frequent, the kisses happened often. They had taken to go out on their afternoons off, and together they explored nearby villages they had never paid much attention too and even had a picnic or two. He insisted that she chose a new dress for her birthday, and she argued that it was too much, but in the end relented; he knew she would accept it eventually.
A suggestion was made, that they should go out and celebrate properly so she could show off her new dress, but Anna refused, saying she was happy enough to show off her new dress to him alone. When she asked if she looked pretty, his answer was instant, and he was sure it would never change.
She looked beautiful no matter the dress.
And she did look beautiful, especially now that she had recovered a bit of the weight lost in the last months and that she was more relaxed and perhaps content with the life they now had. She had thanked him with a kiss for buying her favourite pie and he had even bought her flowers one day, just because he thought it would make her smile. It was almost as if everything was back into normal.
Almost.
They had a lot to recover from, and while they could make new memories, old memories would forever be engraved in Anna's mind and soul. Everything happened in her own time, whenever she felt she was ready. She had always been the one to take a stand in their relationship, and this was no different – it was all up to her. He would hold back, afraid of hurting her, much like he once did, before they were married, and she would insist it was fine, but it wasn't – much like it once was, except the reasoning was very different this time.
One evening, however, her kisses were deeper and unlike her usual goodnight kisses; her touch was firmer and less hesitant. Her taste, on the other hand, was as sweet as ever, and he let himself get lost in the wonders of Anna, and this time, she did not tell him to stop.
Her eyes were certain and so was her voice, and he could not say no to her. It was slow, careful and earth shattering in every possible way. When it was over, he buried his face on her neck and with a heavy breath he whispered that he loved her. At her silence, he looked up and saw tears in her eyes as she replied with the same sentiment and kissed him once more. He kissed her salty tears away again and let out a laugh when she giggled. He didn't mind happy tears.
He caught her singing the next day.
The business of making new good memories got easier as time passed. They learned to enjoy quiet moments again, and their small trips away on their afternoons off were over as they would rather spend their time in the safe nest that their cottage became. It was home, now more than ever, with the two of them there. Anna had taken to gardening and soon there were vegetables growing in their small garden. They discussed arrangements in the cottage as several rooms needed fixing and dreams long spoken of but never forgotten were mentioned again. The future was beginning to play out in front of them, and he loved Anna more every day.
He didn't think it was possible but every smile was an achievement and he was getting quite good at making her laugh and smile again. The teasing returned and new plans were made and the nightmares were nearly all gone. The weeks and months went by so quickly he could hardly notice it, so wrapped up in their world as he had become. The life they had was worth losing track of time for. When Anna was in his arms, he felt as if the world would stop spinning and there was only them and them alone – nothing else mattered. She once told him she felt the safest when she was in his arms and he would never forget it, nor leave her unprotected again.
He would never fail her again – it was a promise he had to keep for the rest of his life.
But life played some tricks and a surprise still came along all the same, making them speechless and ecstatically happy at the same time.
The news that Anna was expecting was taken with much surprise and seriousness from both of them – even though the hope for children had been gone for some time, happiness soon overcame them. A spur of fertility at Anna's age was not something they would question. She called it a miracle. He called it a gift.
He felt uneasy throughout the pregnancy; as happy as he was, the imminent dangers of natural birth worried him. His darling wife was peaceful, however, after the first months of pregnancy were over – along with the usual sickness – and Anna looked as much at ease as possible. It seemed that the baby had taken a liking to his voice, as Anna felt them kicking and moving every time they sat down to read to each other, and soon he would stop and talk to the baby. They wondered if it was a girl or a boy, if they would have Anna's light hair or his darker complexion.
They arranged the nursery and Anna knitted tiny little boots and rompers and he would stop and think in wonder that in a few months a new being would arrive in their little family, and he couldn't wait to meet them.
His beautiful wife got prettier every day, even when she started complaining that she was too big; he disagreed. He cherished every moment he had with her, even if it was just watching her mending in the servants' hall or bringing him a cup of tea after a day of work, her expanding belly making their baby known to the world. A living proof of their love, already giving him and Anna so much joy.
He would catch her talking to the baby even when he wasn't there and as she grew her hand would always rest on her belly, caressing it every so lightly, and he could already see the strong bond of mother and child and he was happy he was able to give this to Anna. As many doubts as he had about being a father, he knew he could do it if Anna was there too.
And she was – as healthy as ever, glowing and happy and excitement was seen in her eyes whenever she talked of the baby and made plans for visiting the house once the baby was older. She was already training a new lady's maid and had more time off than usual, and he was glad for it. She would smile every time he entered the room and took his seat next to her, her bright blue eyes dancing with a fire he was so happy to see – that his Anna was back, and more than ready to be a mother.
If their baby was anything like Anna, he was sure he would be lost.
The weight settled in his arms and he stared at the bundle there in wonder. Anna was sat next to him, tired after the long hours of labour, but she stared at the baby with so much love that no exhaustion would have kept her from watching. The baby's eyes were closed, and she was a chubby little thing; she let out a small yawn and he chuckled, his heart swelling at the sight of their daughter, healthy and perfect in his arms. She had little hair, but it was clear she had taken after him. Her button nose made him hope she would take after Anna, of course, but he knew it was too early to tell.
He only knew she was beautiful. Anna rested her cheek on his shoulder and let out a sigh, reaching for the baby's hand. They had settled on her name being Alice before she was born, and he thought it fit her rather well. Anna chuckled as little Alice gripped her finger tightly in her hand, and wriggled in his arms a little, but he wasn't alarmed as she soon let out another yawn. He turned to Anna and he knew tears picked at his eyes, but hers were the same. Her devotion and love seemed to have led to this moment, and he could not love her more.
"Thank you."
She shook her head.
"No. Thank you."
They settled in silence, and when he looked down the baby had opened her eyes and was staring curiously at him. Bright blue eyes – Anna's eyes. His breath caught in his throat and he knew.
He fell in love again.
A/N: I wasn't going to choose a specific gender for the baby - I was going to let you fill the details - but I guess the fan in me had to do it. Chose Alice as the baby's name because its meaning is 'noble and kind' and since John is so noble and Anna is so kind I thought it was fitting. :)