Robert was thankful that Matthew showed up for the dinner on time and with his mother in tow. Isobel had no love for his family, but her presence meant that there wasn't likely to be a rehash of the family divide. It was awful to think about it so bluntly, but he had wondered more than once since he had found Patrick's body days earlier if the man's death might be the thing that reunited the family. He had always liked Reginald. Unlike other collateral members of landholding families, Reginald hadn't harbored any resentment over the inheritance laws, and focused his energy on gaining the rare scholarship opportunity of medical school. Capitol born doctors and nurses didn't like working in the districts so there were a few rare opportunities to be had. At least back then. The number of scholarships handed out in the last few years negligible, mostly to replace necessary workers. He suspected that Reginald and Isobel, who had also been educated in in the Capitol, had hoped Matthew would get such an opportunity. He was certainly clever enough, but of course being a victor changed everything.

When he had found out what James had done, that Matthew hadn't volunteered out of stupidity or boyish affection for his older cousin, but that James had promised the lad that the money would be found to get a doctor from the Capitol to help his father, he had been incensed. Reginald had been coughing for months, some sort of lung infection that young men threw off but Reginald being close to sixty, it had been killing him slowly. James had heard from a friend he had cultivated in the Peacekeepers that Patrick, too outspoken in school about politics, heir to a large holding and second cousin to an aging victor, had been targeted by the Capitol for the Reaping. It wasn't unheard of. The unpleasant reality was that the Capitol liked to mock the lord and landholder conventions of District Ten which meant they liked seeing the son or daughter of landholder more than the child of one of the field workers.

James had just gone too far. Matthew had been a child watching his beloved father die, and had been brought up to be honorable. When people made promises, they were supposed to keep them. It had been a cruel manipulation on James's part but Robert would have forgiven it if James had kept his word. He would have even helped with the cost if he had known. James had simply assumed the boy would die in the games if it ever came to that, and he'd be rid of Reginald who he never liked. Matthew had gone to the Games, survived the horrors, only to come home and find his father near death. It had been Matthew who had told him what James had promised him, in the clinic where his father had died moments earlier. Matthew had damn near killed James in the street that evening and by the time the fight was broken up, the story was already out. Robert had to admit, he hadn't cared in the slightest that James and to a lesser extent Patrick, had been vilified in the district as cheats and cowards. James had withdrawn to the estate, hiding from view until his heart gave out nine months later. Patrick had muddled along, most of the district eventually coming to accept that he hadn't been involved. And Matthew…

Matthew had retreated to his new home in the Victor's Village and veritably hissed in outrage at anyone who tried to reach out to him. It wasn't helped that the Games had been so bloody and Matthew had established himself as a surprising front runner by setting up clever traps designed to cripple his larger competitors. Matthew hadn't been able to let go of the urge to fight and lashed out at anyone. It was what happened when a child was taught to be a vicious animal, Violet had warned him when he'd tried to talk to the lad. For close to a year, the only people who could approach Matthew were his mother, Mary for some odd reason, and Reggie Swire… and there had been no guarantee of pleasantness, he just wasn't openly hostile or violent. Matthew had slowly recovered, the dark angry side reappearing only after visits to the Capitol. Dinner at the Abbey wasn't a Capitol visit but it was a reminder of the Games and what James had done to him.

It also made the traditional opening act of a formal family mourning dinner awkward. Robert held up his wine glass. "In memory of Patrick. May he be at peace." Everyone clinked glasses, including Matthew and Robert breathed a sigh of relief. He waited until the first course was served to bring up the obvious. "Matthew, you do understand you're now my heir. When I die, you'll become Earl of Grantham. You will need to take more of an interest in running things."

"Why?" Matthew asked pleasantly. "I have no intention of marrying or having children. I have no need for your wealth, I have my own home and a lifelong income, all thanks to Cousin James, of course. I'll abdicate to whoever is next in line."

Robert sighed. "There's no one." He had checked and rechecked even before Patrick's suicide because accidents happen, and far too many of his fellow lords and landholder would be delighted in seeing the Grantham earldom torn apart.

Matthew blinked. He looked around, eying the servants who all glared daggers back at him. "Then accept that I will consider the dilemma and discuss it later."

Because Matthew was paranoid about his conversations being overheard. Isobel had warned him on numerous occasions that Matthew was uncomfortable with any serious discussions occurring indoors or around servants. That meant an awkward, almost silent dinner.

"Join me, Matthew, for a walk outside. It's a nice night. Bourbon is always better under a full moon." He gestured to the women. "You ladies of course should stay inside." His daughters and his mother rolled his eyes at him, while Cora nodded. Of course she understood.

He waited until they were a good distance from the house to speak. "Do you consider me a fool, Matthew?" he asked.

"Not a terrible fool, no," Matthew said after a long moment of thought. "I think you don't understand how I am trying to protect your daughters. I am not a fool, Robert. I understand completely that whichever daughter I name, willing or unwilling, you would drag them to the altar and force them to marry me whether they wanted to or not."

"I wouldn't *force* any of them to marry you." Robert laughed suddenly. "If only because they all have the steel of my mother in their souls, and that means you wouldn't survive your wedding night if the chosen bride didn't want it. But… at least one of my daughters wants it, and you're not so clever at hiding your feelings that I don't know that you're not entirely against it."

Matthew looked at him with stricken eyes. "I've already conceded you're not a fool, Robert. If you need it spelled out, I will. Any child I have with anyone, not just one of your daughters, will be targeted for the games."

"Agreed," Robert said tiredly. "Now, do you think I don't live with that concern? Or that my mother, a victor, never had that concern? Or that anyone else, your parents included, ever looked down at their child and worried?"

"It's not as simple as that," Matthew said after a long moment. "I don't *choose* to attend Capitol events. My presence is required by whoever pays the President to invite me. I don't get a choice about attending or about what I do. If I don't comply… There are threats hanging over me. Threats that involve others."

Of course there were, Robert thought sadly. "Do you think you're the only one? Do you never talk to Violet or Hodges or Dickie?"

Matthew shrugged. "Have you been to the Victor's Village recently? Hodges, when he isn't soiling himself or hitting his nurses, thinks I'm his beloved daughter Rebecca. Apparently we have very similar eyes. She died in the games, you know. Dickie only talks about the food he's eating or the alcohol he's drinking or how he can't close his eyes without seeing the people he's killed, and Cousin Violet isn't a good example considering we're talking about family being targeted."

"If Patrick was targeted, and I am not convinced he was, it was due to his own stupidity and arrogance." Robert surprised himself with his own anger. "It's wrong to speak ill of the dead, I know, but he was outspoken and due to inherit my position, and he should have known better."

"Is that what you want me to do? Keep my mouth shut and accept the status quo? Marry one of your daughters and breed enough children that hopefully they won't all be taken in the Games?" Matthew clenched his fists. "The only reason I haven't slipped under the wire is that they'd kill my mother for spite, and your family as well, and as enraged as I have been, I don't want anyone else's death on my hands. Isn't that amusing?"

This will work, Robert thought with no small amount of relief. "Matthew… where do you think the rebels get food from?"

"They… live in the woods and scavenge. Like I did… I suppose that's why they don't do anything useful…"Matthew shrugged. "I never really thought about it."

"Well, maybe you should," Robert said. "Because Downton could be more prosperous and instead… As long as the quotas are met, no one really cares how much doesn't make it to the supply train."

"That's…" Matthew paled. "That's a huge risk, Robert."

"Yes it is," Robert said. "It's a risk I take because I don't like being under the boot of Panem. I didn't like dreading every Reaping, or knowing that I was helpless to prevent my own children from being chosen. I don't like that my own mother has things in her life that she's so deeply ashamed of, she can't bear to share them. I hate the fact that James was so terrified about losing his son that he ruined his own life, Patrick's life and your life in an attempt to save Patrick. I can't make you care about Downton, but lets be honest. Your mother seems healthy enough that it will be a good ten to twenty years before you can run off and join the rebellion. The Capitol would still take vengeance on the family so you'd guarantee our deaths. Or you can take on your new position and begin to see that there's more going on here than a ruthless grinding down of the peasants. There's a bigger picture here."

"No one trusts me, Robert. I'm a tool of the Capitol, the scary victor who goes for the eyes," Matthew said it bitterly.

"You were a terrified boy fighting for your life with the knowledge that it was kill or be killed. I won't deny that you've hardly been an example to others the last few years, but if you'd let yourself really look around, you'd see people are more sympathetic to you than you realize."

"I don't want sympathy," Matthew shot back. "I was a stupid fool to trust James, I'll never be anything to these people but a stupid fool and a killer."

"That's what my mother was," Robert said quietly. "A stupid fool who volunteered for her crippled sister, her sister that died just a few months later from the defects that had kept her in a wheelchair her entire life. And a killer. No one wins the games without killing. And funny, she's considered quite respectful and worthy of imitating." A look at Matthew's face told him he wasn't getting through. It wasn't a surprise. It was probably the longest conversation he'd ever had with the man that hadn't ended in shouted curses. "Look, I don't need an answer tonight. Legally the estate is yours the day I die and you can do whatever you like with it. I'm offering to involve you in a way that allows you to fight back. Frankly you'll probably be better at it than I. For what it's worth, it's not just me bringing this offer. Reggie Swire nominated you years ago."

"Really? Why?"

"Because he saw through the angry bitter boy you were and understood that you needed time to heal before you could be involved. If Patrick hadn't…. hadn't chosen another path, I was planning to ask you to be the estate agent regardless, so that you could be brought in. The others would never accept Patrick but they will accept you."

"If I accept this, it's because I want the games to end, all the people to be free, not because I want your estate. There won't be a marriage or children," Matthew said it firmly.

It was funny, Robert thought, how Matthew was his father's twin in looks and how Isobel Turnbull's pure streak of stubbornness was so firmly entrenched. "I can't make you marry anyone or have a child. But… ignore everything else we've talked about. Don't you think you'd be looked at less suspiciously if you were seen settling down? Even people in the Capitol have *some* sense of decorum. You'd be a lot less attractive if you were married."

"What a terrible reason to get married," Matthew said. "To protect myself."

"Because protecting others has served you so well," Robert shot back. "Mary is in love with you and she won't marry until you pick someone else." He hesitated. It wasn't the type of thing he spoke about normally, even to his wife. "I don't pretend to understand what is between you and my daughter. I don't know why it happened, and I don't care. I would welcome you to the family as a son in law. What you and Mary have right now is untenable. You obviously have feelings for her, she has feelings for you. You're not required to be miserable your entire life. I'm not saying your fears are irrational, Matthew, but we all share them." He hesitated. He trusted Matthew not to tell any secrets, Matthew more than most understood how the hammer would fall. "Things are changing faster than you think. By the time you have a child old enough for the Reaping, it may… not be a concern."

Matthew blinked, taking that in. Finally he said, "I won't make any decision tonight… but I am inclined to at least consider learning more about how the estate is run."

"That's all I ask."