A/N: Can't believe that we'd be halfway into a Series 7 by now! Time seems to move in a weird way since Downton has finished. Also this weekend is a year since 6.4 and that very special announcement :')


Chapter 4

July 1926

John blinked with bleary eyes, a few minutes passing by in the middle ground between slumber and wakefulness before he was roused properly. The first thing he noticed was the empty space next to him in the bed, and then he was aware of the pleasant draught upon his legs, the covers having been kicked off hours previously, combating the heat of the sultry summer night.

Despite the somewhat stifling conditions he had slept well. In fact, he barely recalled the moment that his head had touched the pillow. He did remember kissing Anna upon her lips, whispering a good-night wish against the intoxicating scent of her hair. Before then he had read a bedtime story to an entranced William – or rather, he had constructed a tale in his head and spoke it aloud for his son's amusement. There were knights and their trusty horses – he thought it wise to leave out the dragons, thinking the creatures were too fearful for such a young lad – as well as lower-born men who were just as noble and heroic in their hearts as the higher classes they served. He was keen for Will to know from as early on as he could be aware that he was equally as important as Master George and the new little chap who had since taken up residence as the youngest member of the Crawley clan. Of course, to him and Anna, he was the most special child in the world, but he wanted his son to be humble and respectful whilst also having a strong sense of himself and never feeling the need to belittle his own being in the light of others.

He wasn't sure why he was worrying so much – habits of a lifetime were notoriously hard to break. Their clever boy was already showing signs of taking after his mother in so many respects, and so he knew there was already a good head upon those still impossibly tiny shoulders.

Before William's birth he suspected that having a baby at home would prove to be both a stimulant and a cure to his insomnia. The latter had proved to be the case this particular night and he did feel replenished for the hours he had slept, if a touch guilty for slumbering on interrupted whilst Anna had no doubt been up at intervals, giving William his regular feeds and soothing him until he was back sound asleep, not returning to their bed for a good ten minutes after the boy had been in deep sleep for at least five minutes previous. He wanted to have a word with her, bring up the matter he had been brooding over for some months. The time never seemed right, and he didn't want to make it seem like he was being a know-all husband, wrapping her up in cotton wool for her own good. She had a strong mind and she knew her limits well, as much as she knew her strength. It was one of the things he loved most about her, that certainty, as well as something he admired endlessly.

Oh, but he was so like his father too. Her insistence upon that was something which made her radiate with pride and unabashed joy, colouring her cheeks the same shade as the beautiful peach rose petals that adorned the gardens of Downton – and had begun to bloom in their own little yard too, thanks to the cutting they were gifted – and painting her eyes the hazy blue of the finest summer's afternoon. And therefore, he couldn't dare to argue. Even if their boy inherited of all of his less than favourable traits, knowing they were outweighed by each one of her natural qualities made him utterly at peace.

The rooms were lightening as he went through them, ambling a little slower than usual. The spaces between the walls were lilac rather than a deeper shade of purple, meaning that the dawn couldn't have been that far away. He had left his pocket watch on the bedside and didn't want to go back for it now he had reached the lower level of the cottage, just to be aware of the precise minute. Besides he had been lured, first by the shadow moving steadily across the floor, larger than her true petite height as it sprawled out, and then by the soft tune that was being half-sung, mingled as it was by little huffs and other noises that were almost indescribable but perfectly sensible to a parent's ear.

"Mummy will have to learn some new songs. But for now, it's back to Rock-A-Bye-Baby, if you don't mind."

He indulged himself by listening to the opening lines of the song, wondering how it was possible that her voice should sound even sweeter in melody. A pair of small blue eyes peered at him over her shoulder as she stopped pacing for a few moments, and he could see that they were smiling, far too alert for such an hour.

"Shhhhh," he hushed to their son, his frame towering over that of his wife's as he placed two gentle palms on both of her shoulders, not being incorrect in thinking that she melded herself into his touch. "You won't see the fairies so early, Will. Not unless you're thinking of Mummy. But she's quite unique."

Anna looked up at him, her smile weary even if she was trying to disguise the fact. The way in which her eyes drooped could not be so easily hidden, a different kind of shadow becoming visible beneath them. She was still beautiful, framed by the burgeoning light of a new day, but he knew that she needed rest.

By contrast William was quite awake, little hands waving into the air, murmuring contently at the cradled position Anna had put him back into within her arms.

"You should have woken me," he said, keeping his voice soft, gentle as the slow rise of the sun. "I wouldn't have minded. I'm surprised I went so long without waking."

"That's a good thing," Anna mumbled, fighting back a yawn. "Making up for lost time."

He stretched to a half-smile, rubbing a hand idly at the back of his head whilst the other remained propping her.

"Go back. You have to be up in not very long."

"The same goes for you," she returned. William made a gurgling in his throat, one foot kicking out into the air. He didn't need to worry about the minutes and seconds as of yet. "I'll survive. I'll just make sure I have an extra cup of tea before leaving."

John shook his head out of her sight. Occasionally he wished that she was a little less stubborn-minded, knowing that it could never take away from her thoughtful nature.

"He's not usually like this, after all."

"A bit too close for you, is it, my lad?"

William babbled incoherently, his blue eyes fixing upon his father's face.

"Used to the cooler weather. You were born amongst the snow."

"Hardy, from the first."

There was something his mother used to say about winter-born children. They were toughened against life's knocks, the coldest conditions stoking a fierce survival-instinct. A lump gathered in his throat when he considered how their son had fought, no doubt from the very minute that his existence had been created.

Anna rocked their child gently in her hold, the motion coming as second-nature. After ceasing the lullabies she started humming softly again, with John accompanying to offer the lower notes here and there, though he couldn't match Anna's flawless tuning.

William remained awake, keen to catch the unfolding of the melody to its last note, though his movements had calmed.

The sound broke in John's throat, faltering as he was on the edge once more. She picked up on it, her long braid swaying lightly as she turned at the waist, her grasp staying absolutely sure.

"Don't you think that it's time..." he began, fixing upon her eyes as they blinked towards him. "It's your choice, of course, but everything has to be weighed."

His hand rose once more, covering her shoulder clothed by the cotton robe.

"You hardly have time for yourself anymore. And you're tired."

She continued to work diligently, never shirking from her duties. If anything, he believed that she may be pushing herself, adding to her duties by doing a few of the housemaids' chores. Perhaps she sought to prove that she was still capable as a worker, or otherwise was aiming to plug the gap that had been left since the family had cut down on their number of staff, which they had been doing steadily since the New Year.

A little to his surprise, she didn't argue with what he had said. It was like he had always thought; he never wanted to insist that she had to give her career up, that it was the only way of doing things in the best interests of their son as he grew. Anna was a perfect mother however she decided to be – that was something he was unequivocally certain of. Whatever she decided to do, he would support her.

But by the sound of her tired voice, it seemed like she was having second thoughts about her decision.

"I didn't want to go back on my word after I'd said it," she confided, slowing the sway of her arms until they were almost at a still. "I don't really know why I said it. Maybe because I felt like I'd intruded upon Lady Mary." She paused as she looked away from him, back down to the ever-growing bundle filling her embrace. "You were too eager to say hello, weren't you?"

John watched keenly as William directed a sleepy smile upwards.

"I've enjoyed being back," she continued, with some hesitation for the admittance, he could tell. "But it is taking it out of me, more than it did before."

His smile wasn't one of being proved right, rather of relief that she felt strong enough not to have to pretend that things weren't taking their toll.

"It's not the same as it was before."

She met the smile he bit back slightly with one of her own, nodding her head hypnotically.

"I think maybe that's what it was, too. The change of it all." She looked down again at the babe in her arms, his head nestled firmly against the inside crook of her elbow. Snug as a bug. "He's the best change I've ever had, after meeting you that is. But it was still different. And I don't think I realised how much it would be...not until the moment I first laid eyes on him, and then held him."

John watched as his wife entered a kind of trance, one which he had been prey to countless times in the last few months. She appeared more beautiful to him in that dawning hour than ever, her enamoured smile which was soon punctuated by a gentle laugh a precious sight that was matchless when compared to any other natural wonder.

He knew her, all of her habits and quirks, the corners of her mind and chambers of her heart. Inside out, as the seasons revolved. And of course now it made perfect sense. It was the way she reacted to change in life, change within herself. There was nothing wrong in seeking out the familiar, taking heart in the reliability of routine even in the better of times. The best of times, as this was and had continued to be with each day that had passed since his birth.

"Nobody can say that you haven't given more than your fair share of duty. In these six months or so alone." He kept his tone light, though by no means undermining the decades she had given over. "And things are different for Lady Mary, too. It'll be a big adventure for her, learning to do up buttons and put both arms in a jacket."

She tutted at him, masking a small, amused smile upon her face.

"Well, I think she would like to be more involved with Master Edward than she was with Master George. I wouldn't ever say it to her face, but I think she feels guilty that she didn't feel much like a mother the first time around."

Even as she had gone back to work, it was not something that Anna could be accused of, giving so much of herself over to William. It would be a bonus however, an unmistakable one, that she would be able to enjoy the time she had with him more fully, without the need of rising early and taking to bed late. Although even that was not something likely to be excluded for some years.

"It's better that I mention it to her sooner rather than later," she said, "perhaps when Nanny Fielding is around. I'm sure the poor woman didn't bank on having to look after two little ones so close by."

"But I suspect it's not Will who makes the most fuss," he couldn't help but comment, glancing down at their darling boy.

"They can both be a handful," Anna reasoned with a smile, "but Will leads by example. Given that he's been wide awake for most of tonight then he'll be easy work tomorrow. Won't you, lovely?"

She leant to kiss his forehead, his eyes having finally dropped closed.

Once he was settled, oblivious of the fact that he would be in his mother's company for longer from sooner than expected, they left him to go back to their own bed, at least until they needed to rise – which was sooner than they both hoped for.

With her snuggled against his chest, and the covers kicked off his legs completely, John closed his eyes, able to return to sleep soundly.

"Tomorrow," he heard her mumble upon him. "I'll say something."

"There's no rush," he replied quietly, pressing against her temple.

With her arms cradling tight around his middle, feeling her soft huffs of breath against his neck, he smiled.