It was odd, Mary realized, for Head Peacekeeper Flavio to look so off put by news that was more inconvenient than frightening. Even her father seemed surprised that Flavio was so worried.

"It's not that unusual, Marcus," Robert soothed. "It's certainly cold enough that the shipments to the Capitol won't spoil if they sit in the supply cars for an extra day." He seemed to chance upon the problem in an instant as he looked at the milling group of guests. "If the storm makes it impossible for our visiting guests to stay in their train cars, then there's plenty of room here at the Abbey for guests to spend the night." He gestured to the huddled group of Capitol and District 12 guests. "I could put them all in the guest wing and still have room for everyone who came to the luncheon. And most of them are on their way to their own homes."

Mary nodded at that. She and Matthew were planning to spend the evening, that had been the plan since the beginning, a fun return to her childhood home for the weekend. Even Matthew had been looking forward to it, a rarity since it disrupted his routine but she was starting to learn that if events were planned well ahead, he reacted much better to changes in routine. Sometimes she felt silly taking her husband, a well-known killer of men, on quiet tours of the Abbey where she explained in detail how easily he could get outside if he wished, and where all of the secret servant entries were. She didn't think it was silly anymore. Isobel had discreetly suggested it when the Christmas holidays had led to invitations to the Abbey, that Matthew would agree to spend the night at her parents' home, but would be unlikely to sleep a wink unless he knew where everything and everyone was supposed to be. Isobel was often an irritating busybody but when it came to Matthew, the older woman had a way of stepping in without really stepping in. Her only real concern with having guests what that they would remind Matthew of the games, and he'd already been troubled by a headache all day. Which meant things needed to start settling down so that Matthew's nerves weren't set afire. "Come now, Peacekeeper Flavio, do you really want to put guests from the Capitol in Baker's inn? So they can spend a miserable night above the tavern crowd?"

Flavio eyed her for a long moment and then nodded. "I can't have them stay in the train, they fuel the thing for each leg so if they run the heat all night, they won't get to District 9." He gave Robert a piercing look and nodded. "And you Crawleys have always been loyal. Like a good District Two family, volunteers and all. I'll let them know the plan for the evening and I appreciate your generosity, Lord Grantham."

A surprise, Mary thought. Her father was surprised as well but covered it as the man walked away. Flavio rarely used District 10 titles. He dislikes the airs of the lords and ladies of the District. "You've greatly pleased him for some reason, Papa."

Her father shook his head. "Oh Mary…" He looked at her, his expression exasperated. Then he seemed to reconsider it. "You will be the Countess one day, perhaps it's time you had a better understanding of the relationship we have with the Peacekeepers. Particularly since you just prodded Flavio into my debt." He gestured to the Capitol guests and the victors from Twelve. "It's not my responsibility at all to host these people, it's Flavio's problem. By rights, they should be foisted off into the empty houses in the Victors Village but Flavio doesn't do more than minimally maintain those houses and pockets the extra money from the Capitol. He's already worried that he'll somehow be blamed for the delay, it's ten times worse if the Capitol envoy complains that they were put up in anything less grand than a Capitol house."

"You're saving him a bad report, and maybe worse," Mary said after a moment. It made sense. She knew the empty victor homes were supposed to be kept furnished and stocked but Flavio had, over the years, slowly emptied them of valuables. Since it was Flavio who would get into trouble, no one really cared. But with unexpected Capitol guests, it could go badly if Robert wasn't being generous.

Robert nodded, pleased she had picked up on it, "I'm not just saving him some trouble. I'd hate to have to deal with a new Head Peacekeeper. Rumor has it District 12 already had a major shake up and there's grumblings in 11, a whole class of new Peacekeepers is being sent to restore order. I don't want a new Head Peacekeeper. So now Flavio owes me yet another favor and it's hardly difficult to host a few guests. Are you and Matthew still spending the night?" Her father waved his hand. "I'd appreciate if he stayed but Isobel said he wasn't feeling well…"

"It's just a headache, and I sent him up to our room to rest before dinner." That he hadn't done more than mildly protest before he agreed to lie down told her that he wasn't feeling well. "I should check on him. Please put the guests well away from the family quarters. I don't… anticipate Matthew getting it into his head to wander the hallways tonight but he does sometimes have the need to know he can leave if he wishes. The victors from Twelve might have similar habits so it might be best to keep everyone separate." And, she told herself, it might be best to sleep lightly if at all,

She left her father and Carson planning where to put the unexpected guests and went up the grand stairway to her bedroom. Matthew was much as she had left him, partially undressed, lying on top of the covers, with a wet washcloth over his eyes. He removed it as she entered the room and blinked at her.

"I hope I didn't wake you," she said as she took a seat near the bed. "Are you feeling better?"

He sat up and rubbed his head, his expression rueful. "I am much better, yes. I must admit, Mother is probably correct. As soon as this storm began in earnest, the headache lessoned." He grinned at her. "You mustn't let her know. You're my ally, not hers, you know."

"You just enjoy spiting us both too much to make me agree completely." She took his hand and held it. "There will be times, especially with the baby coming, that I will ask you to be brave and to soldier on for me, but until then, if you don't feel well, if your head is troubling, don't torture yourself with the idea of pleasing me. Promise me that."

"I promise," he said easily, a smile coming to his face. "Has your father invited the Capitol folks to ride out the blizzard here?"

"He has, and I wanted to see if you preferred to stay here tonight like we planned or to go home." Her father had hosted guests from the Capitol before, it mostly involved not rising to their insults and making sure there was plenty to eat and drink, and the District Twelve victors didn't look like the sort of complain about anything. There were a few victors that Matthew was friendly with, and Haymitch Abernathy wasn't one of them, so there was no need to have Matthew stay.

He shook his head. "We'll stay here tonight. I know you were looking forward to it. Besides, Robert might appreciate some help. Your grandmother is a formidable woman but she's not always at her best with fellow victors. And you and I both know there's something off about this."

She nodded agreement. "The news is already reporting the delay. It's quite the story at the Capitol apparently. Also, there's a graduating class of fresh new Peacekeepers being sent to District 11… and District 12's Head Peacekeeper was just replaced."

Matthew nodded at her unspoken warning. She didn't think the Abbey was electronically bugged and monitored, if any house was monitored it was more likely Matthew's Victor home, and she really doubted that there was any danger in discussing what was reported on the news, but he didn't like political discussions inside and he didn't need her to spell it out. When she added the reality that the new victors from Twelve seemed overly nervous and upset, it was clear something had happened during the visit to District Eleven. He stood up. "I suppose," he said carefully, "that I should head downstairs and divert Haymitch from drinking himself blind."

"He can't be worse than Dickie McKendrick and Papa has held his own with him," Mary said brightly.

"I forget, you don't realize Dickie is on his best behavior on those rare occasions he's invited to the Abbey." Matthew grinned at her as he checked his tie in the mirror. "Trust me, that's Dickie using his self control. Haymitch in contrast has no reason to not bedevil everyone here. I didn't get the sense that the boy, Peeta, would be any trouble. The girl, Katniss…" Matthew chuckled. Mary gave him a look and he chuckled more. "Tom found her amusing."

"Why?" Mary asked. He was setting her up to be teased, in that way he had. Just like she joked about his foibles, he sometimes poked fun at hers.

He smirked. "She reminds him of you. I have to agree. There's a likeness."

She made a show of being offended. "This is what I get for keeping his and Sybil's secret so long, complete disrespect. But… she does have a certain regal nature, and we both have lovely hair and eyes. Do I need to worry about leaving the two of you alone? Or perhaps I should kill her tonight, and solve the problem of your wandering eye." She batted him playfully.

"Never fear, my darling," he said, his eyes suddenly intensely brilliant. He leaned in, touching her stomach, where the soon to be baby was just starting to show. "She's a child, with her own potential mate in tow. Why should I chase after the green fruit when there's a luscious, perfectly ripe pear before me?"

She kissed him. "Isn't that a line from one of your trashy books?"

He kissed her. "It will be."

0o00o0

Matthew gave in and gestured for the footman, Thomas from Sybil's home pulling extra duty, to refill his wine glass. His mother gave him a dark look and he rolled his eyes at her. For a wonder, it wasn't Haymitch being a drunk that was driving him to drink. Haymitch was drunk, of course, but in that disarming, steady way that Robert had. Haymitch was also intent on enjoying his meal. As were the two newest victors. Unlike Haymitch, they both were using silverware. They weren't shy about asking for more of what they liked, but they were otherwise as quiet as mice. The boy and Tom chatted pleasantly, while Katniss seemed to find Sybil an annoying trial. Tom was right, he thought with more than a touch of amusement, Katniss Everdeen was poorer by birth in District 12 than even the lowest tenant farmers at Downton, but she carried herself with an almost imperious self confidence. Mary saw it as well, and he suspected it was a very good thing that the girl wasn't staying longer than a night. My wife will want reassurances when the games come again, he thought as he watched her eye the younger woman, that this girl won't receive any attention from me.

It was an easy promise to make although he suspected Mary would need more than a few promises on his behalf. For all that they had different backgrounds, he could see their similarities clearly. They were both clever and strong, they were both fearless when pressed, and there was even a similar look, long dark hair although the girl's eyes were lighter than Mary's. It was the similarities that had Mary eying Katniss like a worrisome interloper. It was silly on her part, but he didn't plan on chiding her. It would just make it worse if he protested too much. There were so many reasons that the girl, Katniss, didn't interest him in the slightest. Too young, too obviously angry, and too much of a victor. The truth was that part of why he loved Mary so dearly was that she was his rock, his walking stick he leaned on, and he'd never have that firmness of soul with a fellow victor. But it was nice to know Mary would bare her she-lion fangs at other lionesses. Katniss for her part seemed oblivious which made it all the more hilarious.

But that over the table silent interplay wasn't why he was reaching for a drink. It was the Capitol envoy, and the chittering stylists who were driving him up a wall. Effie Trinket was nothing if not complimentary, but it was all so very loud and somewhat insulting, while the idiot stylists seemed utterly stunned by the notion that the home they were in wasn't somehow about to collapse in the face of the blizzard. The District 12 victors had mastered rolling their eyes at almost every utterance of their Capitol servants, which did make it humorous, in a dull sort of way, but he was beginning to understand some of Haymitch's drunkenness.

"I really had no idea that one of the outer districts could be so civilized," Effie declared, for possibly the fifth time. "Why, this has been almost as nice as an evening in the Capitol! I know now why Clodia has been so insistent on staying with your district. She's been offered District Two several times now, you know."

Matthew dutifully nodded, as did Violet. Clodia had mentioned it in passing but had confessed that she simply didn't like most of the District Two victors. It went unspoken that District Two typically didn't keep their envoys for more than two or three years.

"She quite adores all of your quaint customs," Effie chimed pleasantly, clearly thinking she was offering a compliment.

It was too much for Robert as well, Matthew realized. The older man stood and flourished his hand. "One of our quaint District Ten customs," Robert said easily, " is that the men and the ladies retire separately after dinner for drinks. Gentlemen, won't you join me in the library for drinks? "

Matthew struggled not to smile as he fairly lept to his feet. Robert was sometimes a trial, but he had a streak of sneakiness that was occasionally handy. "What a lovely idea, Robert. Mr. Abernathy, Mr. Mellark, let me show you the way."

"I'll join you as well, " Tom said in a rush as he also jumped to his feet. To Sybil he said, "unless you need me at your side, my dearest?"

Sybil for her part was a good sport. "Don't let me keep you from all the fun." She looked to Cora. "I'm sure you'd find the talk about the wedding dull."

Matthew waited until they were safely in the library to clap Tom on the back. "You know you walked into a trap, don't you? She and her mother are going to decide on all sorts of terrible things. I bet you end up wearing a lace frock coat for your wedding."

Tom shook his head. "It was worth it." He turned to Haymitch and Peeta. " How do you deal with that woman twenty-four hours a day?"

"She does go to sleep," Peeta offered.

"I assume this is a bar," Haymitch said by way of answer. He walked over to the bar and was pouring himself a glass of Scotch when Carson stepped into the room. Haymitch smirked at him. "You're late, Jeeves. I had to pour my own drink. Will the eye gouger whip you later for your failure?"

Carson's expression didn't change in the slightest. It was a masterful display. "Mr. Crawley isn't my employer, Mr. Abernathy. And in this household such punishments are forbidden. I apologize for not being timely with refreshments. I see you've found the bar. Lord Grantham received a call from a tenant he needed to handle but will be here soon. Do you need anything? Perhaps if the imported whiskey isn't to your taste, we do have a small selection of... I believe Mr. McKendrick calls it white lightning?"

Haymitch smirked, clearly appreciating Carson's subtle digs. "You're funny, Jeeves. I think though, that since we've started on the expensive stuff, we might as well continue with it. What do you think, Mr. Crawley?" Haymitch gestured with his glass around the ornate library. " As I understand the rules here, isn't this your house? "

"No," Matthew said quickly, glad to dispel at least one piece of misinformation. "This is Lord Grantham's home. I'm his heir, the presumptive heir but he could still have a son of his own that would displace me. Although it's unlikely at this point."

Haymitch waved away the explanation dismissively and began wandering around the library, occasionally stopping to peer at a book or a book. Peeta sipped his drink once and looked at Tom awkwardly. Tom, for his part, also looked awkward. Finally, as Haymitch scoffed at the furniture and deliberately made a mess of one of the book displays, Tom shot the man a dark look.

"Why are you being so rude?" Tom said to Haymitch, his temper up. Matthew sighed mentally, and he could see the boy Peeta cringe as well. Haymitch was drunk, and in a foul mood, that had been obvious. Something was wrong, something had happened in District 11, and Haymitch was

looking to pick a fight as a result. And Tom, a nice enough fellow, was rising to the bait.

"Because this entire set up is a crock," Haymitch hissed. He gestured to one of the family portraits. "Come here, eye gouger, and idiot brother in law. I heard something during the last games that I am beginning to believe now that I've seen this place." Matthew gave Tom a warning look as they both walked over to the portrait that held Haymitch's attention. It was a portrait of Violet and the prior Lord Grantham, Edward, with Robert and his sister Rosamunde when they were young adults.

"What's wrong with this picture?" Haymitch asked, his tone snide. " It's funny, you District Ten people put so much bank on breeding but no one questions how this man, " and he pointed at Robert, "looks nothing like his father." Haymitch smirked at him. "I wonder what could have caused that?" Haymitch eyed Tom and then seemed to zero in on how to best be insulting. "Tell me, idiot brother in law who is marrying into the creepy Crawleys… has the eye gouger told you about what he gets up to in the Capitol? How many heirs to the throne he already has?"

Tom's eyes widened but Matthew could see it wasn't entirely a surprise to the younger man. "Yes," Tom said curtly, "I know. And I know what the consequences are if he doesn't perform so I'm not sure why you're so delighted to raise the topic. My fiancé will likely be in a similar position when she turns eighteen."

Haymitch tapped the portrait. "Have either of you ever considered that the grand matriarch of this cousin marrying clan just might have been in a similar position? I heard she was quite the favorite of President Snow… But a little distance, and hardly any of these people ever seeing Snow… the fact that someone has the same eyes goes unnoticed, doesn't it?"

In a flash, Matthew realized what Haymitch was suggesting and just how likely it was to be true. He had rarely paid much attention to the rumors that swirled around the peer families but his own father had often joked that it was best Robert had no male heirs, that Patrick would inherent and the title would fall back to the true line, and then his mother would chide him for speaking out of turn. And the Crawley family tended toward blond hair and blue eyes, Violet's hair had been more red in tone and Robert… and two of Robert's three daughters were brown haired. Of course, Cora was also fair with dark hair which was likely why there wasn't more talk. It was also the sort of thing people didn't want to be true. Edward had needed a son, an estate without an heir led to disarray at best.

The problem was that such a revelation would shock Robert and worse, force Robert out of the resistance group. Worse, it would no doubt draw attention to District Ten from the Capitol, and Haymitch was smirking like an ass over it. Because whatever the reason was, District 12 had gotten itself into deep trouble because of its two tributes winning and Haymitch thought he had a way of diverting attention away from whatever his district had done.

That wasn't going to happen. Matthew grabbed Haymitch by the shoulders and slammed him into the wall. "You will shut your mouth, is that understood? You will shut your mouth and not raise this particular topic again."

"Or what?" Haymitch hissed back. He struggled but Matthew knew exactly who would win a fight between them and it certainly wasn't the drunk, paunchy 42 year old man in the equation.

"You call me the eye gouger for a reason, don't you? Maybe I'll do that, but first I will rip out your lying tongue and feed it to your companion here who's only claim to fame is that a girl carried him through the games." Matthew slammed him again. "Then I will gut you like a pig, and there might be a little bit of trouble but I'll lie and say you attacked me, and Tom will lie, and I suspect young Peeta here already has enough problems raining down on him that no one will care if he insists it's not true. I'm sorry that somehow your district has found itself in the shooting sights of the Capitol, I genuinely am, but that does not mean I will allow you to throw my family into chaos. Are we clear? Or do I have to kill you, an act I suspect that would please the Capitol to no end?"

Haymitch glared at him but then looked away, to the boy Peeta. "This is why we don't trust District Ten. They're too close to their masters."

Matthew let go of him. "Think that all you like, but please understand. I'm not threatening you, I'm promising you what will happen. Are you clear on that?"

Haymitch glared more, but he resumed his more nonchalant posing from before. He picked up the glass of whiskey he'd set down before the argument had started. "It's as clear as the fine crystal this glass is made of."

Matthew let himself relax. I'll need to talk to Tom, he told himself as Robert stepped into the library. Tom has the good sense to keep his mouth tonight but he'll have questions. He had questions himself, because as he looked at Robert's smiling face, he knew Haymitch wasn't spreading an unfounded rumor, and if Haymitch had heard it then at some point so would Sybil. It just made President Snow's attention to Sybil seem doubly disgusting.

Unless, he realized as he clenched his own glass of whiskey, unless Snow was taking an interest in his grandchild. Protecting his grandchild by declaring her off limits. Which explained how relieved Sybil had been at the games, and it certainly explained why Haymitch was so suspicious. It can wait, he thought as Robert cheerfully showed Peeta the many interesting things in the library, it's too risky to bring up tonight to anyone and he had grown to like Robert enough that he didn't want the man to know the truth. Perhaps that's a good change, he told himself. Not long after his own games, he would have delighted in throwing such a monstrous thing into the man's face.