Youth: a story that deals with the childhood or young adulthood of one of the characters.

This probably is a moot point by now, but I promised: Season 5 spoilers here.

Elsie Hughes skipped through the front door, her father Sean following close behind. Annabelle Hughes came out from the kitchen to greet them, a bowl and a towel in her hand.

"How was the dance, Elsie?" her mother asked.

"It was wonderful, Ma," she answered, performing a little pirouette. "I only wish Da hadn't come so early to bring me home."

Her parents exchanged smiles, amused by their daughter's enthusiasm. "It's nearly ten, lass," Sean told her. "I ought to have brought you home earlier, but I could see you were enjoying yourself."

"And behaving herself, I hope!" Annabelle put in goodnaturedly.

"As though I ever misbehave," Elsie said with a cheeky grin.

"Get on with you, Elsie, and up to bed," Sean directed her. "But keep quiet. Becky's already asleep."

Elsie nodded. "Of course," she agreed. She kissed her mother and father and made her way quietly up the stairs to the room she shared with her sister Becky. When she opened the door, she wasn't surprised to find ten-year-old Becky sitting up in bed, looking right at the door. Becky rarely went to sleep before Elsie had come up to their room for the night.

"Where did you go, Elsie?"

"I went to a dance, Becky."

"I'm glad you came back."

Elsie went to sit on the bed and stroked her sister's hair. "Of course I came back."

"Ma said you would have fun. I thought you might not want to come home."

"It was fun, but I'm here now."

"What did you do?"

"I danced and drank lemonade."

Becky was curious. "What is dance?"

Elsie thought for a moment before speaking. "Becky, d'you know how you play the piano so well?"

She nodded.

"Dancing is when you move your legs and arms along with music."

"Show me, Elsie?"

"It's very late, Becky," Elsie pointed out. "I'll show you tomorrow."

"Not tomorrow. Now." Becky had climbed out of bed and stood in her nightgown, looking expectantly up at her older sister.

A smile twitched at Elsie's lips and she gave in, standing up to face Becky. "Very well, but we'll have to be quiet. Ma and Da think we're sleeping." She tried to remember how she had learned to dance. Her father had taught her - jigs and reels and even the waltz, though the waltz wasn't commonly performed at the village dances Elsie frequented.

Elsie decided to teach Becky the reel. She started by teaching her the arm movements and the leg movements separately. Once her sister had mastered each, Elsie had her put them together. Elsie sang softly while they kicked up their heels together in the tiny bedroom. Becky learned quickly, but soon they were both tired, especially Elsie, since she had already spent the evening dancing in the village. She changed into her nightgown and she and Becky climbed into bed.

"Sweet dreams, Becky," Elsie murmured, but her sister was already asleep.

Elsie reflected on their little impromptu dancing lesson. Becky was more communicative with her sister than she was with almost everyone else. Elsie had been six years old when Becky was born and she had known within a few years that Becky was different somehow, but the sisters had a special bond. Elsie was both surprised and not surprised that Becky had picked up the reel so easily. Perhaps it was related to her other musical talents. When Becky was six or seven years old, she didn't speak often, although when she did it was clear that she was capable of normal speech for her age. She wasn't a miserable child, but she kept to herself and was never very animated. That all changed, however, one day when the family was in the village hall for a flower show. A piano stood in the corner of the hall and Becky sat down and started playing. She played hymns she had heard in church and songs she had heard her family singing. Elsie, followed by their parents, hurried over to the piano, completely astonished. After that, whenever it was possible, Annabelle or Elsie would take Becky to the village hall so she could play. She seemed to enjoy it, she became more animated, and she seemed happier. She still didn't speak much and she still had fits of anger when she was frustrated, but she smiled more often than she frowned. Three or four years later, Elsie still found it incredible. Becky could hear a song once and then sit down at the piano and play it. Elsie knew that some of the villagers said unkind things about Becky and believed that the young girl was sent by God as punishment to her parents for some sin, but she was proud of her younger sister. She wasn't like the other children, but she had a special talent that not many did.

As Elsie drifted off to sleep, she thought she might teach Becky some more dances the next time she had a chance. Or she might have Becky play the piano while she danced. They would both enjoy that. Not many tenant farmers' homes could boast a piano, but the Hughes family had one, thanks to the generosity of the local lord and lady. Elsie had gone to a dance once and had struck up a conversation with a girl about her age whom she hadn't met before. Elsie and Sybil had chattered about the boys they danced with and their families. Elsie's new friend spoke only vaguely about her own family, but Sybil was at the next dance and was so kind and friendly that Elsie ended up confessing the truth about her sister. Sybil had shown only concern about the difficulties the Hughes family faced and delight when she learned of Becky's talent on the piano.

One day not long after, Sybil paid a visit to Elsie at home. She asked to meet Becky as well, and once she had, she confessed to Elsie that she was not Miss Smith, but Lady Sybil, daughter of the local lord. She had sneaked out of her house to go to the village dances, because she loved to dance, but wasn't allowed much of that amusement, and she was glad that her anonymity had made it easy for her to become friends with Elsie. Elsie was taken aback and at first she was a little angry, feeling like she'd been made to look a fool, but Lady Sybil managed to convince her that she had been sincere in everything but the false name. She had wanted to keep coming to the dances, but there was something more important to her that required she confess her true identity.

"I'm the youngest of my sisters, you see," Lady Sybil began. "We've a little piano in the nursery which I think must have been there for several generations. I'll be leaving the nursery soon and we won't need the piano anymore."

Elsie's eyes widened as she understood where this was going.

"I told my Mama about Becky and... how much she liked music, and she thought it a wonderful idea to give our nursery piano to someone who would appreciate it."

"Your mama is very kind," Elsie managed to choke out. She was touched and amazed by this generous offer. "But I must ask my ma if it's all right."

Annabelle Hughes stepped into the room from where she had been listening to the conversation. "Your ladyship and your mama are very generous," she replied. "But I'm not sure if we should accept. Is it quite certain the instrument will not be needed again?"

"Yes, it is," Lady Sybil assured her. "My brother has married and his wife wishes to change things in the nursery. She intends to purchase a new piano."

Annabelle looked from Lady Sybil to Elsie, who still looked astonished, and then to Becky, who looked pleadingly at her mother. "Then I think we can accept it, with truly grateful hearts."

Lady Sybil tried to dismiss this. "You mustn't think us too generous. It's not a new instrument, and I'm afraid it's rather scuffed up after so many years of exuberant little girls using it for practice."

"None of that matters, milady," Annabelle told her. "And I promise that our Becky will make good use of the gift."

And Becky certainly had done so. She played every day and it gave her great joy. There were days when her brow was clouded by her troubles and she would speak to no one, but she would sit at the piano making the loveliest music. It was not a cure for her affliction - there was no such cure - but it did truly bring her happiness she wouldn't have known otherwise. Annabelle Hughes sent a note to Lady Sybil and her mother, thanking them for the gift and for their kindness in general. The Hughes family was not shunned entirely, but there were a fair few who would have nothing to do with them. Elsie and her mother agreed that they were not sure if it would be possible to express how much the gift meant to their family. Sean was initially uncertain about accepting the gift until he watched Becky play. There wasn't a thing that mattered more to him than the happiness and comfort of 'his girls,' and he could see that the piano made all of them happy.

Sean and Annabelle sat in the kitchen drinking a last cup of tea when they heard a light thumping from the ceiling above them.

"What in heaven's name is that?" Annabelle wondered aloud.

"I have a funny feeling our girls aren't asleep."

"Well that much is fairly obvious, but what on earth are they doing up there?"

Sean laughed. "I can't say for sure, but I suspect Elsie might be giving her sister reeling lessons."

Annabelle laughed. "We're a lucky pair, you and I, no matter what some might say."

"That we are, my dear." Sean picked up their empty teacups and set them in the sink to be cleaned the next day and held out his hand to his wife. "What do you say we do a little reeling of our own?" he asked her.

"I say you're right," Annabelle answered. "Lead on." She took his hand and followed him up the stairs.

The end.

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