A/N: I couldn't go the first Mother's Day (at least here in the UK) that Anna is canonly a mother without writing something to celebrate that fact. *happy tears always*
As always, I don't own Downton Abbey, Anna, John or Baby Bates (at least not the first!)
A Mother's Love
He was hers. Hers and John's. This perfect, tiny person. Even more than a month after his birth, she was still adjusting to the reality of it all, though every moment was like walking within a dream.
She pressed her fingertips delicately to the warm, soft skin, smiling wide when she heard the faint little sounds and saw the eyes that were the same shade of blue as hers staring up at her.
She had been asked, when she was further along and getting so big that she had no choice but to wear looser dresses. What did she think it would be? Did she have any preference? What about Mr Bates?
John changed his mind every day. Sometimes it was 'he'; more often 'she', particularly after the times when a sound kick had been issued against his hand. Once he even teased that perhaps it could be both, and she rolled her eyes at his grin, faintly excited and definitely petrified at the thought. Given the size of her bump, it hadn't been an impossible prospect.
Whatever name he gave to their child, he always uttered it with the purest love.
For her part, Anna had never really considered. It seemed too amazing to her that she was carrying a baby – this far along – that she couldn't think about much else. So long as it was safe and healthy, that was all that she could ask for. And she did pray to herself at night, hand securely against her stomach.
After months – some longer than others – he arrived. A son. Entirely healthy; a very good weight indeed. Incredibly happy.
All three of them were.
She had grown up with a sister, helped her own mother take care of the littler one when times had been trying. She had spent the best part of her working life looking after girls. She was comfortable and knew what to do, even if it would have been a little different with one of her own.
With a boy, she could do nothing other than learn. There was no guidance, no knowledge; only her instinct, and that was only just blossoming.
Some days she felt like she didn't have the faintest clue.
She found herself talking to him as he lay upon the settee, or their bed – even in the nursery at the big house, after she had nursed him. In every instance he wriggled, kicking his legs into the air.
"What do you want, William? You must help Mummy."
She looked over him, her palm covering his stomach. He flailed his little arms to and fro, a tiny hand catching onto her finger. She wasn't sure if he could smile properly so early on, but her heart defied any logic.
Other days she was sure of everything – every breath and sound and movement, from the moment the sun rose in the sky to the one where it set and beyond.
She cradled him in her arms, settled him close to her shoulder and breathed in his scent as he nestled to her. One little person giving her such serenity, unlike anything she had known previously.
Now she could consider it properly, it was though it was meant to be. She had been smitten from the very first second, when she heard the first cry that shattered and soothed her heart in equal measure. When she held him for the first time, her heart had been given over.
There was no thought otherwise; she wouldn't have changed him for the world. Her little baby boy.
She counted his fingers and toes one-by-one and over again, keeping him as warm as she could in the moments before she lowered the semi-circle of her arms. Though he was small he was putting on ounces day-by-day; she could sense his growth, imagined it was just right, perhaps even a little far ahead for his age – if only by a touch.
In so many ways, their miracle.
William let out uncertain whimpers as the surface of water touched his back, his arms lifting up.
"It's alright, my sweet-pea," Anna murmured, "Mummy has you. You're alright, I promise."
She splashed the warm water gently over his limbs, lowered him a bit more into the small tin bath. The contents were shallow, and it had taken a fair amount of time to get the temperature right. Her arm ached slightly at the angle she had contorted it into, but it was nothing foreign by now.
Encouraged by his happier gurgles, she loosened her hold ever so slightly.
"That's it," she smiled, using her other hand to support his head, his wispy hair so soft against her fingertips. "I know it takes a few moments, but I think you like this a bit more each time, don't you?"
The kick of his legs answered her question, and she couldn't restrain her laughter as an increasing amount of bath-water splashed onto the front of her dress.
Amongst the playing, she managed to do the job of bathing, reaching for the towel that was lying just underneath the sink.
"There we are, all snug," she cooed while she wrapped William up, keeping him close to her chest.
It didn't take very long to dry him off, and she had already laid out the fresh sleepsuit. His attempts at distracting her from the task by gurgling and squealing were ever-so sweet, but he was a good baby – hardly any trouble at all – and so he was snug and clothed in moments, no fuss made.
The routine had become so established in such a short space of time, another wonderful if exhausting day coming to a close. Anna felt her own eyes flutter shut while she stood, rocking a slowly-tiring William in the candlelight, his quiet murmurs an accompaniment to the song she sung.
"Roses love sunshine, violets love dew;
Angels in heaven know I love you.
Know I love you, dear, know I love you;
Angels in heaven know I love you."
A hand considerably larger than her own rested upon her waist, and she turned as carefully as she could without waking William. John's smile down at her was near as sentimental as the look that lay within his eyes, and she was ever-so fond of both.
Her two boys with her; she couldn't want for anything more.
"I love to hear you sing as much as he does," he uttered, dipping his head slightly to leave a kiss at the place where her cheek met her neck.
"I don't think he heard it for that long," she smiled, near-whispering. William was a weight in her arms, eyes closed and rosebud lips set. "Fed, bathed and asleep. Until a couple of hours pass, and he wants the first again."
She walked the short distance to the crib, John following her footsteps and watching faithfully as she laid their son down in his little bed, arranging the blankets around him just so. After a few minutes – longer than it took William to be – she was satisfied, drawing herself back up to gaze upon how serene he looked.
John's lips were warm upon her skin, his hands tender as they held her waist.
"You could take a bath too," he suggested, his voice like her own lullaby in her ear. "I'll run it and then keep an eye on him when you're in it."
Anna shrugged her shoulders; as much as she craved the warm water to soothe the strains in her muscles, she didn't have the wherewithal to tear herself away.
"I'll stay up just a bit longer," she replied, hearing her husband's contented sigh and smiling as she closed her eyes again, her head filled with visions of their sleeping son.
She let out sighs of her own as John's hands kneaded her shoulders.
No; she wouldn't change anything about this for the world.
William's cheeks were full of colour, though thankfully he had stopped crying a little while ago. Now he was more interested in clapping his hands against the panel on the highchair that acted as a table for his food, and Anna grabbed the bowl before it could be knocked from its height. William was victorious in taking the spoon however, and waved it around above his head before dipping it lower again. Remnants of the mixture flew from the spoon into the air, landing in spots upon the floor, and William was thoroughly amused by that, which was something at least, after the torture of the last hour.
"He'll eat when he's hungry," John said from the other side of the table, peering up from the book he appeared to be reading. "There's not much we can do about it, and worrying won't do any good."
Anna sighed, putting the bowl of mushed-up stew down and pushing it away from her grasp. She had had quite enough of it herself now.
"But John, he must be. He's only had two spoonfuls all day."
She looked with wide eyes at their son, sitting up, making invisible shapes in the air with the end of the spoon. Now that he wasn't having it aimed squarely at his mouth, he seemed perfectly content – like the happy baby she was used to seeing, most hours of the day up until the last few. Perhaps it was because it was so out-of-the-ordinary that made his sudden behaviour all the more distressing.
And yet she couldn't put her finger on what it could be down to. He had been on solid food for a few months, and his teething had stopped.
"Perhaps I should take him to see Doctor Clarkson," she pondered, reaching to pluck him out of the chair. Her palm pressed to his forehead as she bounced him with her other arm, somewhat comforted by the sight of his gap-toothed smile and the fact that he didn't feel clammy.
"Perhaps both of you could go out for the afternoon," John countered, smiling at the pair of them as Anna led William in a little dance around the kitchen. "To Ripon. He'd enjoy the bus ride."
Anna pouted. He was likely right, and she couldn't be annoyed by him – not when he gazed towards both her and William so adoringly. She knew full well that they were everything to him, and William was at the centre of both of their worlds. He had kept the picture from the photographers in his jacket pocket, the top-edge poking out and already getting worn with the amount of times he took it out to show neighbours, shopkeepers in the village – probably even guests up at the house who had no idea who they were. The rest of the downstairs staff had had a good gander, and the other night John had regaled her with all of the complimentary thoughts that had been given to him, as proud as punch of the image of their son, his joy and sunshine captured by camera.
She was proud too, of course. Every day she noticed something new about her boy, something he saved to make her beam brightly. A new way of smiling; pointing to a different bird that flew outside the window. His clever ways astounded her, but didn't at all surprise her. He had taken his first steps, and was so close to starting with words. Until then, she cherished every babbling attempt that he made.
She didn't regret her choice to leave service, some six months ago now. It had been harder than she imagined leaving William while she worked, even though he was always a matter of rooms away. She found herself thinking about him constantly, running to check on him whenever she had a spare moment. She longed for him whenever she had to leave, and her heart ached terribly when he lifted his arms into the air, asking - she was sure - if he could go with her.
She had given it a try, but it was impossible to deny that her place was with her son.
He let out a squeal as she playfully wrenched the spoon from his chubby fist, giggling when she nuzzled her nose against his soft little cheek.
"A day in Ripon sounds very fine, indeed," she chimed. "What do you think, William? We might find you a new bear."
William babbled excitedly, patting his hand against her shoulder.
"I think the cake might have to wait though." She looked mournfully back at the stranded bowl of stew as she fixed William back into his highchair. "When's your next half-day?"
John shook his head. "Not for a week. You needn't wait for me."
"But it won't be the same. You miss so much as it is."
Half of her wished that they had looked for a hotel before William was born, or at least soon after. There had been more pressing matters on their minds, and luckily things had turned out perfectly. She trusted in her husband's judgment, and he seemed to be in no rush. Perhaps he wanted to continue to make a fuss of William to all their friends, and she did like the idea of their boy knowing a little more of Downton before they thought of leaving.
"As long as I see smiles like that one, I don't think I'm missing anything."
Anna looked from John to William, and the sight of his previously tear-stained cheeks filling with a beaming smile made her heart burst.
"You know that's down to you?" John noted, the smile passed onto his voice. "He adores his Mummy. Like father, like son."
"Silly beggar," she laughed. "Soon enough, William, you can tell Daddy how silly he is yourself."
William shrieked loudly, making them both laugh.
"And I won't mind one bit," John answered.
The look in his eyes still made her heart skip several beats. The way he made funny faces at their son affected her even more.
"I don't suppose there's much point in trying this again," Anna swirled the spoon around the bowl that was back in her hands, scooping up the smallest bit of stew. Without thinking, she raised it to her own lips – only realising at that moment that she had been trying so hard to coax William into eating that she had neglected to have anything herself. "Mmm. This is yummy."
Seconds later, William pushed himself forwards in his chair, hands opening and closing in the air towards the bowl that Anna held.
She glanced towards John in amazement, who simply chuckled from behind his book.
"Do you want to try some, sweet-pea?"
William nodded, and no sooner had Anna heaped some onto the spoon and offered it did he eat the food up rapidly.
She sneaked a little more, but the rest of the bowl's contents went to William, who happily enjoyed his meal, with a little persuasion. She didn't mind needing to make something else for herself – she was just delighted that after so long there had been a breakthrough.
"Well done, my darling," she exclaimed, waving his hand and kissing his cheek, feeling the greatest sense of achievement than she had for some time - all from a few spoonfuls of stew. "I think that deserves the biggest and best cake that we can find."
The summer's day was beautiful, and she left the door to the garden open – it seemed a shame not to let the sunshine and fresh air in. Anna admired the view from where she sat, hands rested upon her stomach. The bluebells were so bright – if a little overgrown – and the flower always made her smile to herself, remembering how she had observed while John had planted them, with help from William.
He wanted to be involved with everything, was both of their shadows. Hers more so, due to the fact that she was home with him all of the time. Their boy was independent too – his own spirit shone through, and they encouraged him in all of his endeavours – but Anna loved that he was so close to her and John. They had longed for him for such a time, and loved him long before he came into the world, that to have that love brought back to them by their dearest darling boy was the most wonderful feeling.
She got up slowly from the chair, feeling a little sorry as she fetched another glass of water. There had been so many summer days before where she had played with William in the garden, chasing him and even rolling around in the grass while his laughter floated upon the air like the butterflies that fluttered past them. She dearly wished to do the same now, but there was not a chance, not when she was as big as she was. Both of her palms braced her bump, still expanding though the date was getting closer. She wondered whether this one might stay put until then, or if they would have the same idea as their big brother.
She had felt wretched for keeping him indoors, but her sweet boy hadn't been put out, smiling and hugging her legs. They played games that allowed her not to run about, and drew pictures and read stories. Her little companion was ever faithful.
And yet he was so active now. His energy was boundless, and he seemed to get more of it day-by-day. John had chuckled when she expressed her bemusement at their son suddenly turning into a hurricane of activity. He regaled her with tales and memories of when he was William's age, or just a little bit older, and had his poor mother in quite a state. She listened eagerly – if a touch fearfully – adoring it when he was so open and nostalgic with her. John Bates could never fail to surprise her, or turn her heart softer each day, and the same was true for his son.
"At least he isn't trying to climb trees yet," he had quipped with a wry smile, and for the briefest moment she had felt the urge to smack him.
He kissed her softly before she could act upon it, his large hand cradling her bump tenderly.
"We might have to hope that this one is a girl," he smiled against her cheek, placing a smaller kiss there.
She looked up at him, smirking as she laid her hand over his on her stomach.
"I'm not sure that will solve the problem," she uttered, touching his fingers to the little scar just to the side of her right eye. "How do you think I got this?"
"Mumma!" William's voice rung out around the cottage, swiftly accompanied by the pounding of his footsteps upon the floor.
"William," she called out. "Be careful, my love."
He was no sooner in front of her, smile lighting his face and blue eyes shining.
"Mumma, play hidey seek!"
His little hand tugged lightly upon her cotton dress, and she found it hard to resist his sweet and slightly cheeky grin.
"Alright, we can play hide and seek," she smiled down at him, crouching down a tiny bit. "But you'll have to be patient and wait for Mummy. I can't go very far because of the baby."
William nodded eagerly, pulling her shuffled steps along a few paces.
"I go first!"
Anna smiled as she covered her eyes with one palm. "One, two, three..."
She could hear William's giggles along with the small but quite audible stomps of his feet, receding further into the distance.
"...eighteen, nineteen, twenty. Ready or not, here I come."
She walked into the front room, hand rubbing against her stomach as she took slow steps. There was a considerable wriggling happening inside of her, and she could only imagine that the baby wanted to play too.
"Come on, Mumma!" William's happy shout chimed, coming from the direction of the kitchen. "I waiting."
"Just a moment, darling," she replied, making sure she kept her pace steady. She had only gone a little distance and she was already struggling, with the heat of the afternoon and the weight she was carrying around. "I think I know where you might be."
William couldn't wait. Before she got to his favourite hiding place – beneath the kitchen table – there was an almighty crash.
"William!"
Anna's heart raced, moving as quickly as she could into the next room. She almost froze as she came across her boy on his hands and knees on the floor, the glass of water now smashed into pieces, a seeping puddle surrounding it.
He made to stand, and she heard herself shout louder than she had meant to.
"William, don't you dare move!"
"Mumma!"
His little face was frozen with shock, and his eyes wide – although the tears were held back.
Unable to hoist him into her arms, she held one of his small hands tight in hers, using her other to brace his back and pull him onto his feet.
"Oh, sweet-pea, I'm sorry for shouting," she gathered him as close to her as she was able, soothing her hand over his hair. "I just didn't want you to hurt yourself."
His voice was small and muffled as he pressed himself against her legs.
"I know, Mumma. I sorry."
"Oh little love, you don't need to be sorry," she stroked his soft hand over and over. "You just gave Mummy a bit of a fright, that's all. It's not the end of the world."
The glass would wait to be cleaned up in a little while; Anna led her little boy by the hand and scooped him up to her side the second they sat on the settee. He was warm as he snuggled into her, but in a way that contrasted with the humidity of the summer's day, and so much nicer than that.
"You are so brave for not crying," she whispered to the top of his head, rocking him against her with one arm. "I don't know if I could do the same."
"I knew you find me, Mumma. I not scared."
She laughed softly, kissing his hair. "My brave little soldier."
His small hand slid up, finding its way to the front of her stomach. Anna smiled towards his curious face and gentle touch – she and John had taught him to be careful, and he always took heed of their words.
"Baba play hidey seek too?" he asked, quite seriously.
"Yes," she replied with a smile, "when they're a bit bigger. You can show them just how."
William beamed, patting his hand very gently upon Anna's bump.
He clambered onto the cushions, Anna putting her arm around him as he stretched up to place his arms around her neck.
"Love you, Mumma. And Dadda, and Baba."
She smiled as she hugged him to her. "I love you too, sweet-pea."
Inside of her, the baby kicked – not wanting to miss out, clearly.
"We all love you so much."
Anna smiled to herself as she finished drying the last of the cutlery, feeling an unparalleled sense of satisfaction. The hustle and bustle of preparing for an important dinner at the Abbey may have been the pinnacle for a lot of people, but nothing could compare to being at home, tending to her family.
And this evening had been a special one, indeed; the effort of making the shepherd's pie and rhubarb crumble for the best part of the afternoon had been well worth it, with hardly any leftovers of either dish to be put aside. It had been good to keep her mind as well as her hands occupied until the time had come for her to head back towards the village, a thousand thoughts running through her head and nearly doing the job of carrying her feet along the short distance.
The sweetest sounds coming from the front room had been the accompaniment to washing the dishes, making the task go much faster for her. John was playing with their little girl, talking to her and babbling along in conversation with the noises she was making. Every other minute happy shrieks and giggles could be heard, no doubt as he lifted her little frame high above his head. Anna could not help the wave of love that ran through her, not even having to see father and daughter together to be completely smitten. The adjoining room had been hushed for some minutes, and she knew instinctively that their littlest one's bedtime had come around, John having gone to settle her without a single word.
She would go upstairs soon, not wanting to miss out on her goodnight kiss from Emma.
Folding the towel back neatly and untying her apron, she turned around to see her eldest, his dark-blonde head bowed down to the pages of the book he held in his grasp, his legs swinging and swaying from the chair, and his face betraying an especially thoughtful expression.
Anna shook her head with the utmost fondness to behold him; he was his father's son, that was for certain.
"It'll be time to get you up those wooden stairs to Bedfordshire soon enough," she warned softly, taking her place in the seat beside William.
"Just one more page, Mummy," he said, without lifting his eyes from the page.
"One more," Anna agreed, reaching towards his arm and giving it a little rub. "Daddy can read the rest of the chapter to you before you go to sleep, so you won't be left wondering what happens."
William brought his big blue eyes up towards her, seeming to contemplate that idea with some deep consideration.
She gave her son a smile, having resisted from asking him any questions, not wanting to push him on what had been quite the day – one the three of them had been anticipating for some time. Emma was too young to understand, but Anna was sure that she would notice her big brother not being around to play with and help look after her for a big chunk of quite a few days soon enough.
He had been quiet since they had got back to the cottage, too engrossed in his book and keen to devour his favourite meal to say too much. Anna wasn't especially worried; it was in his nature to keep himself to himself. Yet he had been so excited about the prospect of starting school. William had been the one to mention school long before she was really ready to entertain the thought, and it had taken some getting used to the fact that her baby boy wasn't such a baby anymore, ready to go off and learn and meet other children and start to make his own way in the world, even if they were quite some way to letting him fly completely.
She had been soothed somewhat by getting together all the things for his uniform, a sturdy pair of shoes and a small brown leather satchel that she simply hadn't been able to resist when she had seen it in the shop window in Thirsk. It was a little big for his small shoulders but he liked it just as much, packing his pencil case and jotter inside, smiling heartily towards her with his cap not too far from his eyes before they set off that morning.
It had been the biggest wrench to her heart to let go of his small hand, watching as he made his way towards the school gate. She was so glad that John had been granted the time to see their son off, and linked her fingers tighter with his as they both waved to William before he disappeared with the other children who all looked far too small to be there, Anna blowing a kiss too. The tears streamed down her cheeks, and she felt so silly – it would only be a matter of hours until she could collect him. She reached into her purse for a handkerchief before they set back off on their way home, smiling through her tears as she looked up to see that John's eyes were red too.
Silly beggars, the pair of them. The hug they shared when they got back to the cottage was just what she needed to go on with the rest of her day.
"So," she began tentatively, waiting until after William had finished reading the last word on the page, "how did you like school?"
He shrugged his shoulders, still clad in the grey jumper.
"It was alright," he replied. "I liked it when we got to read. But that didn't last that long."
Anna smiled. "Well, there's a lot that has to happen." He pursed his lips towards her, looking a little resigned. "Did you make any friends?"
She did worry about that. William was reserved with other people, gentle and not one to jump in head-first. She adored all of those qualities in her boy – knowing that the apple didn't fall from the tree – but she hoped that they wouldn't cause him to feel left out, either.
"I have one," he said, a bit shy. "Her name is Maisie. I gave her my apple, because her Mummy hadn't packed one for her."
"I hope she will give you something back."
His little face turned serious. "She will, Mummy. She's nice."
Anna's eyes softened even further and she smiled lovingly at her son, deciding to leave things where they were.
"Well, you'll have more to look forward to tomorrow," she said, taking the book from William's hand and tucking it under her arm, taking his hand as he stood from the table.
He looked rather surprised at her comment. "Can't I stay at home with you and Emma and Daddy?"
"Oh no, sweet-pea," she answered, smoothing back the errant strand of hair from his forehead as she crouched down to his height. "You're a big boy now. You have to be at school, at least when all the other boys and girls are too. How else will we get that head of yours to be even more clever?"
William stared down at his mother's lap for a few moments, before relenting and bringing forth a small smile.
"Can I be in Mr Molesley's class then?" he asked as they made their way towards the staircase.
Anna let out a chuckle. "Not until you're older, love. But you can still visit him; I'm sure he'd love to see you."
She picked him up for the rest of the climb, struggling with the last couple of steps but still relishing the weight of him. His head drooped as she helped him into his pyjamas, and his eyes looked very sleepy indeed when she tucked him into bed. She combed back his hair where he lay upon the pillow, kissing his forehead and wishing him goodnight, her heart lifting as he mumbled the sentiment back to her.
As they met on the threshold of the door, she passed William's beloved book into John's hands, smiling as his fingers lingered against her palm and their eyes held one another's gaze, making her cheeks flush in an almost peculiar way.
He met her on the landing not too long after, where she had been hovering outside of their room after checking on Emma in her crib – which she was almost getting too big for.
"I couldn't even finish the chapter," John smiled. "He was out like a light two pages in. The excitement of the day must have caught up with him."
"Hmmm."
She felt his worried look upon her, as she fiddled with the ring on her left hand.
"Do you worry, John, that he won't fit in?" Her words came out in a rush, before she could gather them together properly. "That the other children might take his kindness for something else."
He frowned, reaching his hand to cup her shoulder. "What's brought this on?"
She sighed, shaking her head. "Nothing really, he just didn't say all that much. And we couldn't stop him talking about school for weeks beforehand..."
Anna was comforted somewhat by the sound of her husband's throaty chuckle, as well as his touch against her.
"Children can be like that. Excited for something one minute, and then thinking about something else entirely the next."
"I think he thinks too much."
She couldn't refrain from giving John a very particular look, which he returned with a smile.
Before she could say much more – or think about how she might have to teach William to fight fire with fire if the worst came to it – he had pulled her into his warm embrace, keeping his arms about her as she sighed into his chest.
Anna smiled when he cupped her cheek, more hopeful as she gazed up at him again.
"He did say that he made one friend, though."
The memories that had sparked in John's eyes couldn't go unnoticed.
"Well, in my opinion, that's all anyone could need."
"So, that's room number 5. Here's your key, and do let us know if you need anything."
Anna smiled at the young couple from behind the desk, relieved when she saw that they didn't need any help with their bags. She had been on her feet for a couple of hours, standing in the same spot, and adding the walk they had taken along the pier earlier in the day, her soles were starting to ache more than a little faintly.
She didn't need to look very far to catch a glimpse of the yellow flowers, and her spirits lifted immediately – not that they could sink too far in the first place.
Her treats on this special day had been many, indeed. Emma had been as pleased as punch when she presented the box of chocolates, which Anna opened and said that they could have one each before breakfast, so long as they didn't tell. Emma's eyes gave nothing away – even if her cheeks were a little more puffed-out than was ordinary – as John brought the breakfast tray in while Anna remained in bed, two little figures toddling in the room after him. The twins clambered to show their drawings to Anna, both reaching to be first. She gasped and cooed, and kissed both of their dark heads, telling them how wonderful they both were. They would soon not be able to see the wallpaper for all of the artwork, but she didn't mind at all.
And then, standing back from all of the fuss, her first child – her beautiful boy – giving her a smile almost as bright as the daffodils he was holding.
She could hear chatter from their sitting room, and before long a pair of footsteps echoed behind, coming out to greet her.
"Mummy," Emma was her enthusiastic self, bouncing on her heels in front of Anna. "Can you come and have tea now, please? I made it just how you like it."
She jutted her hands upwards, holding out the cup from her prized toy tea-set – but being careful not to 'spill' what was inside.
"I have to wait for the last guests to get here before I can join you, my darling. But I won't be long, I promise."
She soothed her hand over her daughter's blonde hair, making her little pout disappear quickly. Every day Emma seemed to be more like a mirror image of herself, which delighted John no end.
"You'll save a biscuit or two for me, won't you?" Anna asked with a barely-disguised smile, crouching down to her little girl's height.
Emma nodded her head vigorously, her face lighting once more. "I'm going to take them out now."
She skipped off before Anna could aim a kiss at her cheek.
"William, don't eat any of the biscuits before Mummy does!"
"Okay, Em."
William had appeared at the doorway, hands planted in his pockets. He was getting ever-so tall – Anna was certain that he was taller than most eight year olds – and she held her breath for a moment at how grown-up he looked.
Her little baby boy. She remembered the night that she first held him in her arms at Downton Abbey as vividly as if it had been mere moments ago.
"Are your brother and sister alright?" she asked, seeing the hint of something in his eyes.
"They're still asleep," he replied, and Anna felt herself relax instantly. It was part of being a mother, the constant – if mainly very faint – sense of worry. "I wanted to see if you wanted some company."
"Sweet-pea," she murmured fondly, smiling at him before she glanced towards the clock. "It should only be half-an-hour at most before they get here, so I'll be alright."
William rounded the desk, his strides long. Anna found him gazing down towards his shoes for some time, until his blue eyes looked steadily into hers.
"I can help, you know, Mum. I'd like to."
This wasn't the first time he'd offered to do more around the hotel, and he had seemed to have set his heart on working over the summer, both conscientious and keen to do anything he could to help his parents with their loads. Anna couldn't stop herself from thinking that he was far too young – she wanted him to spend his holidays from school playing and having fun, out of doors for the best part – but, as John had already pointed out, there might be no choice in the matter, even with the help they already had.
Maybe she just didn't want him to grow up too fast, though she would always find the innocent look in his eyes.
"I know what to do," he pleaded his case further. "I can give out the key, and carry the luggage to the room."
"I have no doubt that you can," she smiled, heart warmed by his earnest expression; one that she had glimpsed many times before in the face of another.
"Dad says that you need to rest," he said plainly. "Especially since you got back."
They had told the children that she had gone to London for a 'holiday', visiting the Talbots as they were staying there. Lucy and Daniel were too young to question it; Emma far too excited about the prospect of her mother bringing back souvenirs from the big city. William had been quieter, his brow furrowed in thought, and Anna imagined all the questions that were lurking within his head, too young to have to care.
"Your father says that all the time," Anna replied, bringing a softer look into her eyes to place her boy at ease. It wasn't too hard to do, thinking of all the occasions he had done just the same for her.
The bell above the door let out a sudden ring, and they looked at one another in surprise, smiles blooming on both of their faces at the earlier-than-imagined arrival of that day's final guests. Before she could dare to stop him, William scurried to the entrance, glancing back briefly at his mother with a broad smile.
"May I help you, sir and madam?"
Anna was glad of the chance to put her feet up regardless for the rest of the evening. Emma poured them all some 'tea' with William acting as waiter, and either side of her were two little ones snuggled close. They were all happier still when John arrived back from his trip to the suppliers', with a sizeable Victoria sponge in tow. All of the younger children excitedly clapped their hands at the cake and Anna laughed at their glee, as well as William's smile that was subtle but just as keen underneath. John promised that they would all have a slice, but that Anna be first.
It was Mothering Sunday, after all.
They would tell the children soon. Most likely when she started to show, as they had done with the twins, and with Emma before them. Anna thought back to when she had told John in hardly any words about being pregnant with William, the smile that lit his face one she forever cherished. They had been so happy then; how they had only imagined how their happiness might grow.
She smiled up at John as he fussed with the bedcovers about her, not changed into his pyjamas yet.
"Mr Bates," she teased, more unused to calling him by his full title now, "I assure you that I'm quite comfortable."
He looked at her rather sheepishly. "I just always wish I could do more for you at these times."
"I think you've done quite enough."
They shared a look, John's eyebrows raised, and then both laughed.
His hand sidled upwards and along the covers, cupping the slight softness of her stomach with his palm. The smile they exchanged spoke louder than words ever could. Both knew this one would be their last child; indeed, the surprise still held them in wonder each day since they had discovered its presence.
It just meant they would cherish every moment even more, and they had enough to say that they did indeed have their children all around them, as he had once promised.
"A baby for every season," John mused, rubbing against Anna's stomach gently.
"Two for Spring," she pointed out, thinking of how it would be the twins' birthday soon. "I suppose the timing is just as well, considering we can't have a holiday in the summer."
"Next year," John assured. "Or the year after that. We'll be quite a rabble."
Anna laughed, imagining them all bundling off somewhere.
She caught hold of his hand, watching the smile bloom on his face as she linked their fingers together.
"I know it took us a little while, but I wouldn't do anything differently."
As he spoke, tears sprung to her eyes unbidden.
"Nor would I."
Four beautiful children, and another on the way. They were so very blessed. John told her often enough that he loved her even more as the mother of their children, and it was a sentiment she held so dear.
He kissed her softly, still smiling as he untangled himself from her arms, slowly.
"I won't be long," he promised, laying a kiss upon her hand. "We need all the sleep we can get now."
Anna laughed, snuggling herself further under the covers. It had been such a wonderful day, but then every one was.
As she waited for John, she picked up the new book that rested at her bedside, inhaling the new scent of the pages as she opened the cover. She read the simple inscription inside again – remembered from that same morning the first time she had seen it – and sniffed back her tears once more, this time with the dearest fondness.
'To Mum, with all my love forever, William xxx'
She edged the writing with her fingertips while her other palm rested upon where a new life was growing, remembering something she had said long ago, and smiled as she now realised the truth in those words.
A mother's love was indeed the strongest there was.
A/N: The lullaby that Anna sings to William in the first scene is called Down In The Valley. I googled 'traditional lullabies' and it appeared and seemed fitting.
The second scene was inspired by this OTP prompt: 'Imagine Person A of your OTP is trying to get their baby to eat some type of baby food. Said baby won't until Person A ends up trying the food themselves, while Person B laughs sympathetically in the background.'
The whole fic was partly written with this OTP prompt in mind: 'Imagine your OTP having a child who looks exactly like Person A with the personality and quirks of Person B. Bonus points if they playfully tease each other about it.'
Thanks to Kristen APA for the beautiful cover photo *hearts*