Lieutenant Mary Crawley was not the son that her father had so hoped and prayed for and she'd spent much of her life trying to be that son for him. Even as a little girl she'd chosen to watch football with him rather than have a tea party with her sisters, no matter how much she might have wanted to dress up with them, to wear the tiara her mama had bought her. No, that had always been for Edith and Sybil to enjoy, Mary had her father to please. It wasn't that she couldn't be a perfect lady if she so chose, but more that she had no use for it in the life that she'd chosen for herself.
A lady wasn't much use in the field, after all, and Mary was a soldier, had been for many years. She'd attended Sandhurst and had received the Queen's Medal. She'd been in the war, had fought alongside good men and women, she'd served her country just as her father and grandfather before her. Lieutenant Mary Crawley was well respected and even well-liked by the troops she led, but they'd never have called her a lady. Occasionally they might have described her as aloof and cold, but at the end of things she'd been a soldier above all else. They'd have been shocked to see her at this moment, dressed to the nines and socializing with the aristocracy.
The truth was, at that moment, she'd rather have been anywhere but in the ballroom of her childhood home. Her parents had planned this party perfectly to match up with her leave, knowing that she'd be forced to attend. It was difficult, being the eldest child, the one with all the true expectations heaped upon her shoulders. She thrived under the pressure though and she knew that her parents, her father especially, were proud of her. That didn't make it any easier for her to be paraded around like a prize pig. She'd spent too long distancing herself from this life, trying to be the son her father still wanted so desperately, to be comfortable as Lady Mary Crawley. It didn't help that in the morning she would be shipping out again along with the rest of her troop.
"Mary!" her sister called and Mary swiped a glass of champagne from a passing waiter before heading over to where Edith was beckoning her. She stood with a group of men, obviously holding court in a way that she'd never managed to do very smoothly back when Mary had lived at home. "Mary, I'm so glad you're still here," Edith exclaimed, placing a kiss on her older sister's cheek.
"Where else would I be?" Mary responded, raising an eyebrow. "I ship out in the morning, it's not like I was going to go to Paris!"
Edith's smile turned brittle but Mary paid that little heed, attention drawn to the tall blonde man who had quickly covered his laugh with a cough. He was handsome, that was for sure, and fit enough that she could tell he cared about his body but not enough to be a vain idiot like some of the men in the room. She knew who he was, of course, but chose not to reveal that information. She'd discovered long ago that the people who attended these sorts of functions could be more vicious than the terrorists she pursued in battle.
"I'm afraid I don't know your friends Edith, you'll have to introduce us I'm afraid," she said, knowing that her sister had called her over to do just that and by asking her to do so was making it appear as if Edith had little manners.
"Of course darling," Edith gritted out in the most pleasant voice she could manage through teeth clenched together in a smile. "You remember Evelyn, don't you? We all went to secondary school together!"
"How could I forget? Evelyn, it's lovely to see you again. I hope the years have treated you well." Mary had little interest in the man; for all that they'd once been friends she'd found that many of her old school friends had become boring and old and incredibly close minded in the years since they'd ditched class together. Evelyn was an exception, one of the few she'd kept up with, but of course Edith wouldn't know that.
"This is Matthew Crawley," Edith threw out before Evelyn could respond and Mary had to fight to keep her composure. The handsome blonde man was the lawyer her father had chosen as partner in his firm, the one he was going to groom to someday replace him. The man that her father had chosen to be the son he'd never had.
"Mr. Crawley, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. Papa speaks of you so often and so fondly I'm shocked that I've never met you before!" she managed to get out, forcing a smile. It wasn't the man's fault her father could be an ass and she'd long since stopped blaming others for things that they had no blame in.
"Lady Mary, the pleasure is all mine, I assure you," he said and she had to suppress a shiver at the sound of his voice. "I've heard so many terribly impressive things about you that it's almost like meeting a legend in person."
She laughed at that and gave him a smile. If he was going to acknowledge her and her many achievements then perhaps she could live with his presence in her life and in her family's business. She had the army, after all, and she'd decided to make a career of it, there was no point resenting that this man was going to take the place that she'd once dreamed of occupying herself.
"If you're going to be that flattering then I shall have to gift you with a dance," she laughed and pressed her almost empty glass of champagne as she held her other hand out to Matthew, who took it with a smile.
"I'd be delighted to accept. It's not every evening that the most charming woman in the room agrees to dance with me." Edith shoots her a nasty look as he turns his back and she has to stop herself from returning it. She loves her sister dearly but sometimes Edith can be the most childish and selfish person in the room.
It's a waltz and Mary's just a little bit grateful for that, she doesn't get much dancing practice in the field after all. Matthew is charming and a beautiful dancer and Mary is surprised to find herself unable to stop laughing, to keep herself from grinning up at him even as the dance ends. Somehow they end up dancing the next song and the next and the next until finally they stop, only to find drinks and wander out to the balcony together.
His company makes the dull party seem lively and interesting and she finds herself glad that she came, even if it is the last night of her leave. At the end of the night they part friends and Mary promises to look him up the next time she's on leave and he promises to send her any important news while she's gone. She kisses his cheek in goodbye and if her lips linger there a little longer than proper, well, neither of them are complaining.
Three months after that idyllic night she wakes up in a field hospital with a broken back and the news that she's going home, unable to walk.
It's been more than a year since Matthew joined Downton and sometimes it still feels as if he has no place here. The people who work there are lovely and he feels like he might have found a place here much more easily if it hadn't been for the fact that he'd been brought in to replace someone who had been well loved. Not only that but he'd also not been their first choice for the job. He's still not even sure how Robert Crawley had heard of him, let alone why he'd decided that Matthew would be perfect for the vacancy created by his late nephew.
Sure he was good at his job but there were others who were just as well suited, possibly even more. Matthew had learned to stop questioning his good fortune most of the time but every now and then doubts slipped in. Especially when all of Downton was in such a somber mood.
Not that he blamed his colleagues, he was just as somber, and yet these thoughts wouldn't leave his mind, along with the image of Mary Crawley, laughing as she danced with him and then giving him a coy smile at the end of the night before walking away all those months ago. She'd captivated him from the moment he set eyes on her, this sleek beauty who had looked as if she belonged at that party, as if all of the aristocrats in that room had gathered solely to pay homage to her. His breath had been stolen before he'd even known who she was.
Then Edith had called her over and he'd realized that this was the prodigal daughter, the one everyone spoke of in awe and hushed whispers. Lieutenant Mary Crawley had seemed in that moment to be as large a figure as the tales that he'd been told. They'd danced and she'd been clever and funny and astute, but she'd also been the first person in the Crawley family besides her father who hadn't treated him like a charity case.
Since that night he'd written her three times and received two responses. He wasn't expecting another response, not when word had reached the Crawley family that Mary had been wounded in battle. He'd been with Robert when he'd received the call, had watched the blood drain from his face and heard his voice shake as he'd demanded answers.
He'd known, without having to be told, that the call had been about Mary and his heart had frozen in his chest, sure that she was dead. But then he'd heard Robert's side of the conversation, had realized that she was still alive and relief had almost made him light-headed.
Her parents had gone to the army hospital to retrieve her, to bring her home as soon as possible so that she might have the best care possible, better than anything the government could afford to give her. She was home now, that much he knew, but no one spoke of her now. Her name was taboo and any gossip about her was quickly stifled under Charles Carson's watchful gaze.
Not too long ago it had been a rare day when he hadn't heard her name at least once, she'd been that beloved by the staff of Downton. He'd heard stories of her following her father to work all the time and how she'd interned there all through university, before deciding to join the army. She'd been a favorite, especially of Carson's, and it had been too painful after the injury to talk of her as they always had. He'd only met her once in person and even he agreed.
And now, tonight, he would be seeing her again. Dinner at the Lord Robert Crawley's home had been intimidating enough when it had just been family, now it was to be a dinner party to reintroduce Mary to society. He had a feeling that it had been Cora Crawley's idea rather than Mary's.
She'd written to him once that she hated the parties that her mother would throw, that she'd always felt more comfortable in situations where she didn't have to act the perfect lady and he'd told her that she'd pulled it off wonderfully the night that they'd met. He'd imagined her laughing at that. He hoped more than anything that he would manage to make her laugh tonight as well. Her laugh seemed to haunt his dreams, making it difficult to sleep.
His thoughts were cut short as he pulled up in front of the Crawley house, climbing out of his car and handing his keys to the valet. It had always seemed strange that the Crawleys employed a valet, but he'd gotten used to it on his visits to their home. He took a deep breath and started up the steps towards the house, nodding at the man who let him in.
Inside was beautiful and he never failed to admire it no matter how many times he'd been there before. This time though his attention was caught by the people in the room across the foyer and the Crawley family holding court.
"Matthew, my boy!" Robert cried out as Matthew shed his coat, walking toward him with a large smile and extending his hand. "So glad you could make it."
Matthew returned the smile and the handshake but his attention was drawn to the corner where many of the younger people in the room had gathered. "I wouldn't miss it," he responded and Robert laughed, urging him toward the other young people. Matthew went without argument.
"Hello," he said as he joined them and it was only when he did that he was allowed an unimpeded view of who they were gathered around.
Edith was holding court, as she did whenever she had the chance, but for once she shared the spotlight, although neither woman looked as if they wanted to. Mary was dressed as beautifully as she'd been the night they met and he had to admire how she looked in her dress but it was almost painful to look at her for too long. She sat as straight and tall as if she were on a throne rather than a wheelchair, her face a mask of polite interest.
"Hello, Mary," he said, striving to keep his voice even and under control although a lump had appeared in his throat. Her eyes snapped to his face and he held her gaze as it seemed to assess everything about him. He didn't know what to say, didn't know what to do, not when this proud woman sat in front of him, crippled while she fought for her country.
"Matthew," she drawled and he was a little ashamed to find that at least she sounded the same as she did in his memory. "I see my family hasn't yet managed to run you off."
"No, I'm afraid you're still stuck with me," he returned, hoping to see that sly smirk that he couldn't seem to forget.
"Pity," she spit out, raising an eyebrow before motioning to someone who he hadn't noticed was standing in the shadows. The blonde woman dressed in a nurse's scrubs stepped forward so that Mary could speak to her. "I'm afraid I'm a bit tired Anna, would you mind taking me to the dining room now so that I might have a moment to rest before we eat?"
"Of course Miss Crawley," she said and then pushed Mary through the gap in the crowd while they all silently watched her go.
Edith gave a high pitched laugh that grated on Matthew but successfully brought the attention back to her. "Well, it's nice that at least her manners haven't changed!" she exclaimed and the others laughed but Matthew couldn't help but bristle at the insult to Mary. She was trying to adjust to being unable to walk and her supposed friends were laughing at her!
He made his excuses gratefully when Violet Crawley called out to him, demanding that he come pay her homage. He went without fuss, knowing that Violet at least would never tolerate anyone speaking ill of her granddaughter.
A/N: Well here's my first attempt at a Downton Abbey fic! I thought it would be quite interesting to see a role reversal in which Mary was the injured vet rather than Matthew and here's the result! As a disclaimer I of course don't own Downton Abbey or the characters and I'd also like to say that I have little knowledge of the British military and I'm not an expert on disabilities but I will do my best to treat the subject as it deserves. And thank you to Alyse (alyseofwonderland on tumblr) for the title!