In Response to Guest Reviews:
To the guest who knows Into the Woods, I totally understand about the song. May I ask what your favorite is? And, it is cool you guessed it! Moreover, it's my pleasure. My family and I have been very lucky, something I'm quite grateful for. I hope you're doing well as well!
Author's Note: Who's ready for a time-jump? We're talking like two-three weeks of jumping, as a reference.
And, no worries if you're confused about anything brought up in this chapter (e.g., the competitions that'll be mentioned). It should all be explained in the second author's note at the bottom.
Also! I do not own either Into the Woods nor Downton Abbey. And, furthermore, the duet performance was definitely inspired by the original Broadway cast for Into the Woods –– a scene you can see for yourself if you look up "Into the Woods - It Takes Two" (it should be the second option, as put up by GreenLampshade).
And, finally, a "warning": We're about to experience all of the fluff and optimism. Like, alllllll of the fluff and optimism. You'll see….
Enjoy!
_._
Sunday, the 22nd of March, 2020
9:37 a.m
They stepped off the gravel and onto the inviting grass, a grand breeze coaxing them both to look in the direction of the grounds where their reception was to be hosted. Downton Abbey had stolen his heart many years ago, beginning to take hers the longer they stood here in the blissful sunlight.
"Are you sure you want to do this today? You just hosted a choir competition yesterday!" The pair turned to the American, smiling at the concern.
"Oh, it's much easier to host than it is to compete, Mrs. Crawley." Charles reassured her, not wanting to be put off. This had been the first day all of their schedules lined up since they'd formally agreed to having Downton for the reception. He was not letting anything, not even a choir competition, get in the way.
Hosting the competition had been fairly straightforward, to the point wherein most of the day blurred together. No histrionics from students or teachers, no mess when it came to scoring or awarding the prizes. The process was chaotic when it came to making sure everything worked out, but simple enough when it came to managing the competition itself.
"Or so we tell ourselves," But Elsie had no real complaints about anything. She, too, looked to be swept up in the atmosphere of Downton, understanding for herself that this was the best decision they could make. Not only was it frugal, it also held a personal sentiment none of the other venues could rival. And seeing as how they'd be using the grounds for the reception, instead of the indoors where they had their first dance, that sentiment wouldn't be tainted if anything went wrong.
"Don't worry, Mrs. Crawley," Albert Mason pointed out, having offered to help them get over to Downton. Seeing as how he and Beryl had a decently significant role in the wedding, they both felt it was the least they could do. "They promised to take it easy yesterday in anticipation of this."
"And, for once," Beryl seamlessly interjected, "They actually did!"
Cora shared a laugh with the band director at the tease whilst Mr. Mason kept politely quiet about the subject. As for the two choir teachers?
They were deeply unamused.
"In that case, let's get to it!" The atmosphere eased as the American focused solely on the couple, "How would you like to do this? I can walk you through how we've set up outdoor events in the past, if you'd like."
"That would be lovely."
Cora nodded, pleased to have this chance to show off the Abbey and help the pair make their dream wedding more of a reality. They spent the next hour going over the various arrangements in the past, discussing what came with the house for an outdoor reception, so and so forth. Information, quips, and frank conversation were exchanged, everyone open to any and all suggestions on how to structure the event.
Eventually, however, "You were actually planning on hearing the banns today, right?"
Charles blinked, having forgotten how much time had passed, Elsie equally caught off guard by Beryl's rhetorical question as she continued, "Because, If I'm not mistaken, the eleven o'clock service will be starting in about twenty minutes."
"My, my." "Mrs. Crawley, thank you so much for giving us a tour today, but I'm afraid,"
"Of course I won't be stopping you from going to church!" The administrator looked to be filled with delight for the couple, not realizing this was their plan for the rest of the morning, "We can continue this discussion at the school and finalize the plans then."
"Perfect! Once again, thank you. It's an honour."
"Mr. Carson, Mrs. Hughes," The American began to affirm, "Believe me when I say the honour is all mine."
_._
Monday, the 23rd of March, 2020
10:53 a.m
Lavinia had taken over a private practice room the moment she could, wanting to rehearse away from the prying eyes of other students. All the other students really knew their stuff with introductions and how to perform their solos, intimidating the soprano, causing her to want to work on her solo in solitude.
Luckily, the practice room was small, with enough space for a piano, a bench, and maybe two individuals tops. That the door automatically locked, ensuring that no one could interrupt her whilst she was rehearsing, made up for the fact that the room wasn't sound proof.
But that's why she came up during her lunch period, knowing that other students preferred to spend time with their friends instead. It meant that almost no one, save for a stray cellist a few rooms away, was rehearsing here. Well, whoever they were, they wouldn't care what she was doing. Having already run through her warm-ups, she hadn't received any official complaint –– telling the young woman that it wouldn't be a bother to rehearse.
Her phone buzzed, taking Lavinia's concentration away from cellists and complaints. Looking away from the sheet music for her solo, she couldn't stop a small smile from peeking out at the text she was now receiving.
Good luck with your rehearsal today! You totally got this! –– CP
You're up early today! Lavinia thought to herself, surprised at the text. But that didn't take away the fact that she was really happy to see a message from this particular friend.
Cindy Paisley, a friend Matthew made over the summer and a musical theatre genius, had videochatted Lavinia a few times to help practice, as per Matthew's request. That the American singer was willing to help did loads for Lavinia's confidence, pushing the strawberry blonde soprano to go beyond what she thought possible.
That Matthew was just as confident, sticking around for each rehearsal and cheering her on throughout it all, felt indescribable.
Thank you! –– LS
Silencing her phone for the time being, not wanting to be interrupted by anything else, Lavinia turned back to her sheet music and closed her eyes, trying to get out of her thoughts. The sight of Matthew smiling at her, cheering her on during each and every one of those video chats, came to the forefront.
It helped her relax, helped her take a starting breath, imagine the accompaniment come to life, and start to sing.
"I'd like to swim
In a clear blue sea
Where the water is icy cold.
And go to town in a golden gown
And have my fortune told."
Though she was unsure about the musical The Fantasticks, Lavinia really did enjoy her solo, "Much More". It was all about going out into the world, experiencing things she never thought she could. And it had the young woman feel as though she wasn't playing a character. Instead, she felt as though she were singing for herself and for the things she wanted to do in life.
"Just once!" Lavinia tried her best to dive into the higher note, still being a little afraid of such notes, "Just once."
"Just once before I'm old." That part was always hard, but it was really hard today. She would definitely need to go over it again if she wanted it to work. But when it did finally work it'd be as brilliant as Matthew said, she was sure of it!
_._
7:02 p.m.
It'd unintentionally happened, a complete accident. The octet had been leaving the building and he'd slipped up. But Matthew couldn't help himself, not when Phyllis had commented on how tired Mrs. Hughes and Miss Miller seemed to be getting.
"Yeah, I'm sure Alice Neal has nothing to do with it." The tenor darkly remarked, forgetting his customary manners for a moment.
"Alice Neal?" Penelope asked, raising a coiffed eyebrow. "Can't stand the woman. The very definition of a prima donna."
"Takes one to know one." Mary's muttering, luckily, was not heard by her fellow soprano.
"I never liked her. Had to deal with her only once and that was enough for me." Connor admitted freely, "Never volunteer to help The Center out at one of their shows, that's all I can say."
"Trying to impress a certain tenor, were you?" He wouldn't dignify that with a response, ignoring Penelope's little jab at what had to be a crush.
Frankly, Abigail had better things to do than exchange barbed remarks amongst her peers: "Do you really think she's why Mrs. Hughes and Miss Miller are slowly losing it?"
Both teachers were looking more and more worn down every week. They thought they could hide it, the growing exhaustion and the gradual loss in spirit as well as sanity. But all eight students saw straight through the act.
"That definitely could be a part of it. I still can't believe all the schools decided to get together and sing –– sounds like a nightmare in the making."
"I'm sure it's not that bad. She's annoying but she's not a nightmare."
Matthew broke a little further at Connor's comment, still bothered by what he witnessed, "It's bad enough she's acting terribly toward Mrs. Hughes, outright flirting with Mr. Carson in public, and dismissing everyone else in the process."
"Oh, yeah, that's awful." Connor frowned, thinking the matter over, "Don't suppose we can do anything about it though."
There were murmurs of agreement, the others disheartened by the situation but hesitant to act. When it was only such minor things there really wasn't much to be done. It wasn't like she was explicitly harming any students, and everything that could be made into a complaint would probably be deemed "harmless".
"But," It was David, not Matthew, who began to speak at last, the normally taciturn teenager looking displeased by the discussion, "What if we could?"
_._
Thursday, the 26th of March, 2020
11:07 a.m
Linda Vance knew exactly why Beryl Patmore had decided to randomly pop by. She knew it was no coincidence that the band director had materialized out of nowhere, casually starting to interrogate the teaching assistant when it was clear they were the only two on the floor. The redhead was trying to find out how stressed out her friends really were, if their supposed composure was all a front.
Well, the stress wasn't too bad these days. Yes, when no students were around, both the choir director and his colleague gave away just how exhausted they were getting –– their normally lively tones becoming peppered with a grave atmosphere. But that was to be expected with all the events and the preparations, what the show and the wedding.
"At least they're done with hosting competitions."
The teaching assistant nodded at Mrs. Patmore's remark, in full agreement. "There is that––"
Linda really should've known better than to speak up, not when the band director was on a proverbial roll, "Though I suppose the 'Best of Downton'll get in the way of their getting a break."
"There is also that, Mrs. Patmore."
"Please," The older woman shook her head in disbelief, "We're practically partners in crime by this point. You can call me Beryl when Mr. Carson isn't around."
Linda valiantly tried to protest the matter, but an obstinate look had the assistant giving up in seconds, "All right, Beryl."
"That's more like it! Now, what are we planning to do about all that?" Ah, yes. The infamous gown that mocked them almost every day. No doubt the real reason Beryl had dropped by when the others were gone.
Linda really did have half a mind to chuck it out the window, the urge expanding each and every Friday afternoon. Nevertheless, she was well aware of the consequences for such an action.
"You know we can't do anything, you heard Mrs. Hughes."
"She said we couldn't burn the thing or destroy it. She said nothing about misplacing it or moving it out of the closet."
"Mrs. Patmore," Linda began to lecture the woman, Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes' principles having rubbed off after all this time. But there was an idea sparking to life at the thought –– one that dug a hole right through the moral high ground, "Mrs. Patmore, you're brilliant!"
"'Course I am!" She then sharply looked at the assistant, "But why do you think so?"
_._
12:22 p.m
William knew that Mr. Carson, Mrs. Hughes, and Miss Vance were all busy these days with the wedding less than three months away and all the shows left to go through. This was all on top of the solo competition later this week.
But, see, the solo competition was why he was up here during lunch.
He'd just gotten a little help from Miss Vance on his solo –– the teaching assistant had told him the two teachers weren't available –– but he still wanted a little advice from Mrs. Hughes. She always knew what to say, being able to help him put aside the butterflies in his stomach.
Or, in her own words, make those butterflies fly in formation.
So that's why they haven't repeated any musicals in the show. William had noticed that about the songs selection, thinking it was really cool each song was unique. He continued to lean up against the door, unable to help himself. Last year, he wouldn't have dared to be anywhere near this audacious. But times have changed and so had he.
In fact, he would wait right outside 403. He was completely fine with waiting and–– and hearing it was that kept them busy.
"You've changed. You're daring.
You're different in the woods."
That was certainly Mrs. Hughes singing, though the student didn't know who she was speaking to. Mr. Carson, probably?
"More sure. More sharing.
You're getting us through–– Charles, are you all right?"
William's eyes widened, not used to her speaking like that.
"It's just," The choir director paused, his voice muffled by the door, "Are you sure you're comfortable using two songs from Into the Woods? Only, I remember how adamant you were about keeping everything unique."
So that's why they didn't repeat anything. William had noticed that about the songs selected, thinking it was really cool they didn't repeat themselves. He continued to lean up against the door, unable to help himself. Last year, he wouldn't have dared to be anywhere near this audacious. But times have changed and so had he.
"Charles, I gave up that idea when we started singing with Alice Neal. Besides, this isn't going to make it into the show, no one will be the wiser."
The young tenor froze at the sound of Mrs. Hughes speaking like that. So candidly, so intimately, with no true sense of that infamous diplomacy of hers.
He liked it.
And, of course, he would get a kick out of Mr. Carson's response:
"I don't know, Elsie. I wouldn't put it past Mrs. Crawley to request it be added in at the last second." The tenor's jaw plummeted toward the ground at the carefree tease, never his choir director sound so at ease.
Though, there was that one time last fall. In Mrs. Hughes' first semester, there was a day where the pair had been coming up the stairs, when they'd––
He couldn't remember the conversation he'd overheard. But it didn't matter.
"Is there someone outside, Mr. Carson?" He'd been spotted, breaking the mood of the conversation. "Is that William?"
Maybe he shouldn't have waited around, not if it meant interrupting whatever this was.
_._
Friday, the 27th of March, 2020
9:13 a.m
"I still can't believe the solo competition is only a day away!" Daisy Robinson whispered to the teen sitting to her left.
"At least we don't have to deal with that and the 'Best of Downton'" Ivy Stuart reminded her, cringing at the very thought. It would be too much to handle, having to compete and then perform for the school all in the same weekend.
"Well, I don't know about you," Daisy started up, now irritatedly turning toward the fellow singer, "But I'd've liked to have been in both!"
"Well," Ivy echoed, narrowing her eyes. "I would've, too, you know! All I'm saying is that it'd be a lot of work––"
"And all I'm saying is that you both better stop disrupting my class!" Really, as a band director, she had much better things to be doing with her time than lecturing her students.
Besides, don't you two hate each other?
_._
5:27 p.m.
"Will I ever tell you?
Ah, no." "Lida Rose, oh Lida Rose, oh Lida Rose,"
Each singer in the faculty group clung onto the decrescendo as they finished the song, the group having adjusted to everyone's individual sound. Professional, at least from a glance, they all ended the song with great enthusiasm.
Jack Ross clapped his approval for all to hear, grinning, "That was brilliant, really spot on!"
"I don't know Jack," No one was surprised to hear Alice begin to speak, "Are you sure we should end the song like this?"
In a traditional barbershop set-up, small groups of singers would stand in a half circle. Baritones and tenors would take their respective positions on the outskirts of the formation, leads and basses standing in the center of the circle.
For this, Jack Ross had different plans. He would let them get away with the set-up for "It's You", having conceded that the song was charming enough to not require any additional choreography. However, for "Lida Rose", the choreographer had insisted on more. He wouldn't put them through anything like what he'd planned for "42nd Street" but they would do more than stand in a half-circle and look starstruck over what they were singing.
And thus, his brilliant plan that –– surprise, surprise –– Alice Neal was still rejecting….
_._
Friday, the 14th of February, 2020
4:51 p.m.
"Now, normally, the gentlemen would stay to the side when you all sing together for the final piece of the song. However," With a grin growing at the very idea, "I think you're all capable of changing the game a little."
"What did you have in mind?" Phoebe curiously asked, having been too caught up in the nostalgia of the enchanting song she'd forgotten he would soon explain himself.
"I'm glad you asked, Phoebe." Charmingly smiling at the now blushing teacher, "Ladies, I would like you all to gracefully walk over to the gentleman singing your part and join his side when we go into the last part of the piece. Then, for right now, I'd like you to link arms, sway with one another, anything you feel will convey the love of the song."
It was simple, true. But it would add a little something to the performance, which was all the choreographer was asking for.
"But, Jack," Alice began to protest, immediately realizing who would be with whom, "If there's seven women and four men, won't that look strange on stage? Besides, that's three women for Charlie –– he sings lead. How would that work?"
Having anticipated such a response, "When it comes to the leads, all that would take is someone joining up with the tenors to even out the bunch. Joyce, would you be able to?"
"Certainly!"
He nodded, pleased, "Alice, I've a feeling it'll work out. But that's why we're trying it out today. Now, ladies, if you could sing your last few measures before everyone's singing together, starting from 'Will I ever tell you?'."
"Of course," Phoebe responded, using the fact that she was one of the leads to get everyone focused. And making sure that everyone was once again ready to sing, she shared a glance with Alice and Joyce before the trio breathed in unison –– being sure to smoothly cue everyone else in.
"Will I ever tell you?
Ah, no."
Practically wafting through the air as they carried out the chord, the seven women began to elegantly split up and join the various sides of their respective counterparts. Linda and Joyce joined Anthony on the far stage-left, quietly persuading him to come back closer to the center of the stage. Alice and Phoebe linked arms with Charlie, the man looking incredibly pleased with himself while the two women seemed to only be vaguely humouring him. Francesca joined Dicke on the far stage-right area, nudging him back into the spotlight with a slight twinkle in her eyes –– recognizing their shared desire to stay out of the limelight if at all possible.
And as for the female basses of the bunch?
As for Elsie and Beryl, the two teachers refinedly joined their fellow bass where he stood. The band director easily linked arms with Mr. Carson, gleefully grinning at how his smile became significantly strained as she did so. On the literal other hand, the choir teacher chose to gently grasp her fiancé's hand instead of anything too ostentatious. Grinning at the fact that she could do all of this in the name of music, she proceeded to bask in the fact that this was actually expected in the case of this song.
"Lida Rose,
"Oh, Lida Rose,
"Oh, Lida Rose,"
Jack hopped off the stage and observed from the house seats for this bit, wanting to get an accurate assessment of the performance. And as he watched the ten teachers tenderly sway and swing across the stage, starting to ease into their new positions in the spotlight, he couldn't help but recognize that he'd been right.
"Dream of now," "Lida Rose, I'm home again, Rose, again,
"Dream of then," "To get the sun back in the sky,"
"Dream of a love song" "Lida Rose, I'm home again, Rose,"
"That might have been," "About a thousand kisses shy,"
There was an adorable quality to the piece that was only heightened by each part acting in this fashion. And that quality took the song a step further, helping to liven up the sweet tone as all eleven individuals began to truly take on their respective roles.
"Do I love you?" "Ding dong ding,"
"Oh, yes, I love you!" "I can hear the chapel bells chime!"
"And I'll bravely tell you," "Ding dong ding,"
"But only when we dream again," "At the least suggestion, I'll pop the question!"
Jack Ross was, without a trace of doubt, a genius.
_._
Friday, the 27th of March, 2020
5:27 p.m.
"I personally think it's lovely," Joyce Barnaby defended the choreographer against Alice, not the man needed it. That didn't stop him from smiling in appreciation, "I wouldn't change a thing!"
"But, if we were to change things," The Center choir teacher continued, as though she hadn't been shot down by Midsomer's director, "I really think––"
"Seeing as how we are only five rehearsals from the show, we will be adhering to what has been thoughtfully planned out by Mr. Ross." Mr. Carson bluntly interrupted his former friend, having lost his patience after her seventh complaint.
"And speaking of shows, the 'Best of Downton' is less than two hours away," Because Beryl Patmore was in no mood to discuss this any longer, "We'll have to cut this rehearsal early, just like we agreed earlier."
"I am still shocked that our group hadn't been invited to perform for the 'Best of Downton'––"
"Yes, well," Dickie was also losing his patience with the woman, "It is the 'Best of Downton', not the Yorkshire county."
"Shall we let you four escape then?" Joyce chimed in, a knowing glint in her eyes. In the distance, the head of Grey Institute was beginning to banter with Alice, unable to remain composed.
The Downton staff could only gratefully smile at Joyce's question, relieved to have a way out of this conversation.
Or, rather, smiling was all the choir staff of Downton could do.
The band director thought it would be more peachy to give an honest response, "Works for us! Now, didn't you two say you were meeting your students before the show?"
"That's right," Mrs. Hughes confirmed, unsure of where her friend was going, "But––"
"Then why are you still here? You should never keep Mary Crawley waiting! Sybil and Gwen will be all right, but I can only imagine what Mary'll be like now that we're late. And Thomas Barrow should never be left to his own devices, you know that!"
Little did the others know, the two teachers weren't supposed to meet with their students for another hour.
"I really must insist––"
"Oh, look at the time. So sorry," It was with a barely concealed twinkle in his eye that Jack Ross watched Beryl Patmore unapologetically shove her three other colleagues toward the exit, "But we can't afford to stay. Feel free to drop by and see the show if you can!"
_._
6:26 p.m.
Thomas had barely made it to where Mr. Carson and Miss Vance were waiting for him, remembering the correct meeting time at the last second. He'd been distracted by video chatting Danny, having forgotten everything else in the process. But the baritone was focused now. He could even observe Mrs. Hughes' voice all the way from the top of the stairs, "We'll be right down, Mr. Carson!"
This wasn't the first time Thomas wondered why on earth the architects of this school thought it'd be clever to have two fourth floors in one building. Yes, it meant that the choir rooms were secluded and not distracted by other classes, but it also meant it was stupidly complicated getting around this part of the school –– seeing as how this was one of only two stairwells that led to the choir rooms.
But before he could bemoan the fact any further, he heard footsteps echoing down the stairwell. Soon enough, Gwen and Sybil were coming into sight –– the ladies having prepared a lovely duet from the musical Sideshow. Dressed in customary concert attire, the two were making sure to thoroughly emulate their characters: a pair of twins literally glued at the hip.
Mary regally followed, wearing a stunning white ball gown that emulated the movie version of the musical she would be singing from. Mr. Carson had given the soprano a chance to emulate Christine Daae, the ingenue of the well-known Phantom of the Opera. Frankly, Mary looked to be taking full advantage of this opportunity –– dressing extravagantly for what was supposed to be a simple performance.
Yes, Mary's was certainly the show stopping outfit of the lot.
But there was another outfit that snatched Thomas' attention.
One that was simpler in style but as eye-catching at the young soprano's for entirely different reasons.
"It felt like the most appropriate dress to wear tonight. Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Carson?"
Mrs. Hughes had finally arrived, her beautiful blue gown reminding Thomas of the ocean at its finest. The baritone felt as though he'd seen it before, but he couldn't remember where. Only that the dress had stolen his attention whenever he last saw it and it would again tonight.
But more importantly: was the teacher flirting with Mr. Carson? In front of students, no less? There was definitely a mischievous quality, a teasing intimacy, one that threaded itself into her words.
"I do." That the choir director was responding quite seriously to the tease, that his eyes are lit with an impassioned knowledge, made Thomas give up on trying to figure out what was going on. He only wanted to notice what they were referring to, what esoteric memory was flickering back to life right here and now.
"Well, let's not keep them waiting." The Scot lightly chided everyone into moving, as though this were an everyday occurrence. "Mrs. Crawley is expecting us any minute now."
Right.
They had a show to put on.
A show that, in the course of a minute, Thomas'd forgotten all about.
Here was hoping he still remembered his lyrics.
_._
8:42 p.m.
Applause. A quintet of bows, the musicians' instruments tucked safely away. Not the final act, but close. Silence. Confusion over if the last act would indeed perform. A sense of déjà vu for those who were here last year, bewilderment for those attending for the first time.
A flash of movement behind a velvet curtain. Three individuals emerging from the shadows, an older duet leading a third. The youngest, a lady, confidently took her place at the piano's bench. The man, poised alongside the piano, bemusedly stared out into the crowd. The final member of the group, a woman adorned in shimmers of cerulean and cobalt, maintained a distance from the others. Her eyes held a longing only matched by her partner. Their gazes wouldn't meet. Not yet.
An exquisite piano key was struck, a soft cue given.
A simple, enthralling song descended.
_._
9:01 p.m.
"You've changed. You're daring.
You're different in the woods."
A smile trickled through Elsie's eyes, the simple melody reaching out to caress her man even at this distance.
"More sure. More sharing.
You're getting us through the woods."
Pure fondness now floated through her voice, the type that came from more than a mere act.
"If you could see––
You're not the man who started,
And more much open-hearted
Than I knew you to be."
Charles turned to her, a love in his demeanour that could be seen all the way from the back of the auditorium. For them, no one else existed. Not when this song began and certainly not now when he was beginning to take charge of the lyrics.
"It takes two.
I thought one was enough, it's not true:
It takes two of us."
A hand rose to reach out to her, the man taking a step toward her, joy tracing every movement. As though he finally saw her, finally realized what opportunities stood before him.
"You came through
When the journey was rough.
It took you.
It took two of us."
He was offering much more than the chance to hold hands.
Something she was well aware of.
Something she had long since accepted.
"It takes care.
It takes patience and fear and despair
To change."
There seemed to be several conversations sweeping about the stage. The story of the song itself, the story for them. All wove together, indistinguishable.
"Though you swear to change,
Who can tell if you do?
It takes two."
She nodded at him, taking her own step in his direction, beginning to reach out.
"You've changed.
You're thriving.
There's something about the woods."
The pair had every intention of looking out into the crowd, of practicing the minimalist choreography they'd planned for this. There hadn't been much time to sketch out an act, but they had wanted to do more than simply look out into the crowd.
"Not just surviving.
You're blossoming in the woods."
All of those intentions lay forgotten in the face of this.
"At home I'd fear
We'd stay the same forever.
And then, out here,
Your passionate, charming, considerate, clever––"
Their hands touched, the sensation electrifying.
"It takes one to begin,
But then once you've begun,
It takes two of you."
They finally remembered their audience. He turned back to the crowd, inwardly sheepish. They'd almost forgotten the show. Almost forgotten what they still needed to do.
"It's no fun,
But what needs to be done
You can do when there's two of you."
Right. It wasn't proper but Charles was tired of looking solely into the crowd. He only had eyes for her and he was done pretending otherwise.
"If I dare," He reached out once more, a plan weaving itself into his grasp.
"It's because I'm becoming," She took it within one tender heartbeat, trusting him. "Aware of us."
"As a pair of us," It was time to put his plan into action.
"Each accepting a share," Charles wasted no time twirling her into his arms –– his actions chaste but intentionally romantic. Far more than what he needed to do as a singer. Much more than what was expected of him on stage. Exactly what he'd craved. "Of what's there."
Elsie hid her shock well, beaming as their harmony began.
"We've changed.
We're strangers,
I'm meeting you in the woods."
He twirled her out of his arms once more throughout this, the pair radiating tenderness. Maybe their woods had been understanding each other in the beginning, learning one another's principles and preferences. It might have been dealing with Emma Butte and that whole fiasco. Perhaps it had been the loss of good people, navigating that awful grief.
Whatever it was, whatever it had been, they truly had come together.
"Who minds,
What dangers?
I know we'll get past the woods."
Every obstacle they came up against, they went at it together. Maybe they couldn't always win, but they could certainly remain determined to be partners in the face of everything that crossed their path.
"And once we're passed
Let's hope the changes last."
There was no doubt those changes of theirs would last. His trust in her and himself, her confidence that they could enjoy every part of this, all of it.
"Beyond woods,
Beyond witches and slippers and hoods,
Just the two of us."
Charles gripped her hand without a care in the world, thinking this to be beyond perfect.
"Beyond lies,
Safe at home with our beautiful prize,
Just a few of us."
Elsie could only do the same, in absolute agreement.
"It takes trust,
It takes just a bit more and we're done."
Another plan was coming, this time sneaking into her mind. One that tickled her the moment she concocted it, inspired by the original Broadway performance.
"We want four, we had none,
We've got three."
Elsie let go of his hand, taking the opportunity to tap Charles on the shoulder as she slipped behind him. Her fiancée turned, faithfully following her lead and turning back toward her as she tapped him on the other shoulder –– garnering an endearing curiosity from both him and the crowd.
"We need one,
It takes two."
Seeing as how they were to be married in less than three months, Elsie felt it was quite acceptable to gesture to him, to discreetly request he bestow a kiss upon her cheek as they held out the final note. The man looked happily stunned at the suggestion, unable to hold back a delighted smile as he leaned in.
When she turned at the last second, audaciously bestowing a proper kiss upon him instead, Charles couldn't help but sigh in contentment, deepening the kiss and going so far as to gently dip her in his arms.
That the whole audience was exploding with approval, an unswerving ovation standing just for them, was only the icing on the cake.
_._
9:47 p.m.
"Well now," The murmur strolled alongside the couple, accompanied by arms happily entwining at lento. "I'd call that a success."
"Oh, I think that went all right." The cheeky response only had her delivering a certain look in his direction, "The soprano in that last act was magnificent."
"As was the bass who took on a baritone's role," She informed her future husband, bursting with pride, "They certainly proved it takes two."
"Indeed." He smiled at his future wife, never having believed such a performance was possible, "Now all they need to do is make it through tomorrow."
"Charlie," His smile widened, "Hosting was easy enough and we'd never done that before, not together. But, helping our students compete? We're old hands at that."
"That we are." The fermata that blanketed them was comfortable, languid. "I suppose we can let all that wait until tomorrow."
"Charles Ernest Carson," Needless to say, she was amazed by the suggestion, "Are you suggesting we refrain from stressing over something we've no control over?"
"Elsie May Hughes," He smoothly returned the sentiment with a twinkle in his eyes, "That is exactly what I'm suggesting."
"My, my," She muttered to herself, not for the first time that week. "I'm not sure I know how to do that."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Right." The paused, looking to be seriously thinking the matter over, "Well, I might be able to help you with that…."
_._
Author's Note: I know I'm absolutely overdoing the fluff, but needs must, you know?
As a refresher, because it's been awhile since I Shall Not Sing In Vain: there are two main competitions Downton attends –– one that's meant for choirs of a hundred singers to compete and one for smaller ensembles/soloists.
As luck (and a certain author) would have it, Downton's hosting the large competition this time around. And so, since none of Downton's choirs wanted to compete in small ensembles, it will only be soloists competing this time around –– something we'll get to "hear" in the next installment.
In any case, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and that you have a lovely day!