A bit of a warning before we begin. This story does indeed have a T rating, but there is a small, non-explicit, necessary sex scene. If you have an issue with this/ don't want to read it, it's the fourth paragraph down. Send me a PM, and I'll hook you up with the information needed to understand the gist of it without any of the y'know, sex. This is the only chapter in the foreseeable future in which there will be anything like this.

Enjoy the chapter.

Espoir–Hope

One night and a cruel white piece of paper. The disruption of Edith and Louise's paradise. They're related, the night and the paper, cause and effect. The latter could not exist without the former, and the former? Well, it was always leading to the latter.

Mr. Michael Gregson and Lady Edith Crawley. A relationship budding against societal convention. A relationship that was doomed to never become husband and wife, only lovers. However much she might want it, marriage wasn't within her grasp. For her, it was a less than ideal situation. It was perfect for him, though. He had his cake and got to eat it, too, and when he decided he was full, the leftovers could be tossed aside without a second glance. And that was that. Or, that would have been that if not for the night. Their first night together.

His plan had always been to get her to sleep with him, and when she decided to stay, he was, as expected, pleased with himself. He now had a lover he didn't have to pay for, one naive enough to be manipulated easily. Everything was going according to plan until the lovemaking actually started.

See, in all of Michael's meticulous planning, he had forgotten to account for one thing – his feelings. He had not planned that he might grow to care for Edith beyond a physical level, that he wouldn't be able to just toss her aside. Michael was not prepared for the sensation of her, the sensation of not just another conquest, but of her lying beneath him. It totally dismantled his self control. Far sooner than he had expected, he was there; and far sooner than he could remember his plan to pull out, it happened. And immediately after, he did remember, and he did pull out, and he fell back on the pillows next to her in shock and fear. He could acknowledge his plan had never been perfect, but he at least thought he would be able to take preventative measures to control this.

He didn't tell her, but that night was the reason he left for Germany. Not to become a citizen and divorce his unstable wife, not so he could marry Edith. He left because he was scared. Scared of the effect she had on him, that he would never be able to rid himself of her. He was scared of how much it hurt already to leave. And probably most importantly, he was scared that she was pregnant. He was too afraid of leaving once she confirmed his fear, so he left before she could calm it. He didn't want to be father, he couldn't be a father. So he fled. A selfish coward.

The night the paper entered her life, Edith was at Downton enduring the miserable monotony she had her entire life. Pretending the dinner conversation topics mattered. Pretending there wasn't a knife twisting itself deeper and deeper into her stomach every second because of her man's disappearance. A normal evening. Pretending.

Carson handed it to her. Crisp and clean and white. Blinding. And the letters. Typed and precise and black. Stark. Pregnant. She did not, did not want to touch it, the cool stiffness chilling her to the bone as it sat featherlight on her fingertips. By the time she reached her bedroom door, it was lead. Folded neatly into the back of a book, it was not burned or soaked or ripped to shreds as she had desired. It was saved, though she did not know why. The words had already branded themselves onto her eyes.

Edith hadn't spoken a word of the night to anyone until she received the paper. Louise could see something had shifted between Edith and Michael, though. His name would be mentioned, and her eyes would mist – just for a second – as if seeing a memory instead of her teacup. Then they would clear and she would continue on as normal. Louise didn't ask. She put it down to love, but she did notice.

Their tearoom and their table at their time, Edith offered Louise a list. It was the easiest way to tell her. The list was three items long: 1. I am pregnant. Michael. 2. I am going to raise my child myself. 3. They will not grow up overlooked and second best. They will be loved. Louise sat silent, though not stunned. She sat and thought, digesting the information she had been given and deciding which words would help her friend most effectively. It was a long time before she settled. In that time, neither of them moved. They barely breathed.

Three words. The beginning of a plan, of a new life. Move to London. It was Edith's turn to be silent. Move to London, get a flat, a job, and raise your child. Louise leaned forward intently and took the stony hand attached to the stony woman. Edith, be happy. The first battle in a war Edith would be fighting her entire life had not yet begun. She was aware of this war, and she was afraid. A determination fueled by fear sat in her stomach like smoldering coals awaiting to be kindled to flame. But there was something else there, too. Something that collected in the corner of her eye and dragged itself down her cheek, melting away the stone. Hope.

Author's note: I owe an infinite amount of thanks to my beta team (TheBenBen, girliestarkid, and Juno), without whom this chapter would not be here. I struggled a lot with this chapter, mostly because it was something I didn't particularly want to write about, but it was necessary to get through. *sigh* I'm mostly glad to be done with it. Okay, on a happier note, the rest of the chapters will *crosses fingers* be easier/more fun to write than this one.

Hopefully I'll have another chapter up for you soon, but fair warning: I start yet another grueling year of high school in a week, and finding time to write is going to be a challenge. But I don't see myself giving up entirely until at least January ;)

I think I've rambled enough for today. Go check out my betas' stuff, and please, leave me a review.

–helladella