Disclaimer: I don't own Downton Abbey or it's wonderful characters, I'm simply playing with them and will return them to the toy box when I'm done.

August 1914

Edith sighed quietly, she wanted to be angry at Mary for ruining her chances with Sir Anthony but even she couldn't find it in her to be mad at Mary when Mary had just lost her fiancé. Admittedly Mary had made no secret of the fact that she didn't care for Patrick, but still, she had been so close to gaining everything she'd really wanted (namely Downton) and it'd been taken from her in a cruel twist of events. Edith's own heartbreak didn't much matter to anyone else but, in a way, she was glad of that. Everyone had taken to walking on glass around Mary, as though afraid she'd shatter if they weren't careful. Edith gave an unladylike snort at that thought, Mary was stronger than anyone gave her credit for, it was one of the few things Edith really admired about her older sister.

Edith had taken to hiding in her room as much as possible since the disastrous garden party. And today was no different; she sat gingerly on the edge of her bed and forced herself to think of that day. Mary and Patrick's announcement that they were engaged had been greeted with good cheer from the assembled guests but it had gone downhill from there, first with Sir Anthony seeking her out and making his apologies for leaving early. He had been stiff and formal with her and Edith had tried to get him to talk to her but he'd simply left without another word and it hadn't been more than a couple minutes later when Edith had realized Mary had something to do with it, what exactly her sister had said to Sir Anthony, Edith still didn't know and she wasn't sure she wanted to.

Edith had thought it surely couldn't get worse but then the news came…. War. Edith has been scared before, but nothing like this. It is like an inescapable dark cloud has settled everywhere and Edith doesn't know what to do. She is scared and angry and worried. And, not for the first time, she wishes she was more like Mary or Sybil, they're strong, they can survive anything, Edith is sure of that. But as for her? She had never really known her place in the world and that had left her unsettled and in a perpetual state of worry, but this was worse, it felt more and more like she was drowning and she didn't even know anymore what she really wanted, or if what she wanted mattered. War, just the thought of it drowned out all other worries.

Edith breathed deeply in through her nose and tried to settle her thoughts in a different direction. But the only other thing she could think of was the morning after the garden party, when Carson had come into the room while they were breakfasting and Edith had inhaled sharply as she saw the look on his face, she'd seen it once before, in 1912, the day the telegram came that announced Cousin James' death aboard the Titanic. The day that Patrick had paled as he read the words confirming his father was dead, he had been in shock, murmuring about how he had been supposed to be aboard as well. Edith had never felt sorrier for anyone. At least not until that morning just a week ago when Carson had handed a telegram to her father and he read the dreadful words proclaiming Patrick's death in an automobile accident. She'd never seen her father so sad and worried, she didn't know what this meant for the estate, but she knew the entail wasn't going to be broken no matter what her grandmother, mother, and older sister might wish.

Everyone's hopes, dreams, and plans seemed to be crumbling all around them and Edith wanted nothing more than to go back to simpler times, retreat into the normalcy and safety of her childhood. Tears pricked her eyes suddenly as she remembered she couldn't be considered a child anymore, not ever. Maybe it was a good thing Sir Anthony hadn't proposed, she would've felt duty bound to confess her darkest secret to him and she rather thought he would've turned away from her anyway. She wondered suddenly if that was what Mary had told him, she didn't think her sister could be so cruel but then, Mary didn't really know the whole story. She still thought Edith had invited Pamuk to her bedroom. Luckily Mary was the only one who knew anything at all, and then only because she'd overheard Edith in the library begging Pamuk to not tell anyone that he'd been in her bedroom before he had left Downton. Edith wished her sister had actually spoken with her about it, she thinks if someone would just ask, she'd tell the truth and be glad to have the awful secret off of her conscience.

"It'll be okay" Edith whispered to herself, hoping, just faintly, that it really would be.

"It looks good Anna, thank you" Mary patted her hair gently and smiled into the mirror at the petite blonde woman behind her.

"You always look good with your hair up like that my lady" Anna answered as she got to work folding up some clothes that had been left on the bed.

"I suppose, it's just hard to think I look good when I'm constantly wearing black, it's so depressing" Mary said "if Patrick and I hadn't announced our engagement that day I wouldn't have to wear mourning for very long, but of course since he was officially my fiancé…" she trailed off and Anna looked over at her, she had been nodding her head along with Mary's words, she had after all heard variations on the same theme practically since the death of the former heir. But now she was surprised to see Mary had her head down in her hands and her thin shoulders were shaking ever so slightly.

"My lady?" Anna asked cautiously.

"Oh Anna" Mary was sobbing in earnest and Anna hurried to her side, they both ignored propriety as Mary buried her face in Anna's apron and Anna wrapped a gentle arm around Mary's shoulders.

It didn't take Mary long to cry herself out but she continued to lean against the maid and Anna wrapped her arms around Mary in a fierce hug.

"My lady, if you need to talk?" Anna offered.

Mary sniffed and shook her head.

"I wish I could Anna, but I don't even know what to say. I don't know what I'm feeling, I wasn't in love with Patrick but I did care for him" Mary wiped her eyes as Anna stood back.

"Of course you did my lady, he was your cousin, and you practically grew up together" said Anna beginning to gather the little pots that would allow her to hide the evidence on Mary's face of her crying.

"Yes" Mary whispered, "and I wish, oh how I wish that was all of my problems. Anna, war? I know many who think nothing will change, that the war will be over in a matter of months, but what if it's not? What do we do then? For we must do our share, whatever that share is".

"And Anna, I'm also ashamed of something I did. I hurt someone deeply and I don't know how to fix it, or if I even can". Mary's cheeks flushed at the memory of things she'd said to Sir Anthony. The look on Edith's face as he left had been enough to make Mary wish she could take everything back right then and there. In fact she had started off after Sir Anthony when her father had called for everyone's attention and delivered the worst news she had ever heard.

"Well, I can't council you much on the subject of war. But if you hurt someone you need to apologize and try to right whatever wrongs you've done them, no matter how hard it is" Anna advised gently.

"You're right of course, being afraid is a poor excuse for not doing what is right" Mary looked in the mirror critically and nodded in satisfaction.

"Thank you Anna, I don't know what I would do without you".

"Anytime my lady" Anna smiled.

Mary waited until Anna had left then she pulled open a drawer of her dressing table and brought out a small stuffed dog, she was embarrassed that she needed the comfort of a toy but this was her lucky dog, and she needed some luck if she was going to apologize to both Edith and Sir Anthony.

"If?" she muttered softly to herself "there is no 'if' Mary Crawley, you are going to fix this and then you are going to get through whatever comes next". She sat up straighter and nodded to herself in the mirror as she plotted out the best way to talk to her sister.