December 14: Dreaming Through a Winter Wonderland

Pairing: Mary/Matthew

Rating: K

Mary awoke from a lovely dream.

She had discovered herself on a bridge, one in Central Park. She had walked down it several times; only this time it was covered in snow, and she was alone. The entire park – perhaps even the entire city – was devoid of life. She had no coat on, and so she felt the chill of the swirling winter air around her. For a while, she simply stood, turning her head around in the hopes of catching a glimpse of colour, of some other life form. Her icy breath hung in the air in front of her like smoke.

Then, without a sound or sight to be perceived, something took hold of her hand. Mary froze, not certain if what was grasping her hand was friend or foe. Yet she held onto it, feeling the thing's flesh with her thumb. It felt like any other human hand: slightly bigger than her own, in fact, and it felt very familiar. Somehow she felt the warmth from the hand holding hers flow into her arm, filling her with the same heat that radiated from a fireplace.

She turned around, hoping to glance at the stranger holding on to her hand, and perhaps thank him for the warmness he was offering to her. She was met with eyes carved from ice, eyes that had startled her at first. But they looked down at her kindly, and she grasped the hand tighter.

"Who's there?" she asked to the winter wonderland.

"It's just me," answered a soft, deep voice. Mary's breath froze in her throat as she realized who it was that was speaking, and suddenly the hand holding hers slackened. She felt the wind slice through her like a knife.

"Please, keep holding on to me," she said in desperation. A moment of hesitation, then the hand gripped her again, and the warmth returned, making her impervious to the cold.

"I'll keep holding on, I swear," said the voice.

That was when she woke up, opening her own eyes to the white brilliance of morning. She moaned and pulled the covers closer to her. Her face felt dry and tired. Last night she and Grandmama (as well as Grandmama's entourage) had stood watch at the arrivals terminal at JFK airport, waiting for Matthew. Mary hardly blinked for fear of missing him among the crowds of people, all rushing to meet their loved ones.

When she caught sight of him, the weary traveler, dragging his suitcase behind him, it was like seeing someone from ages past. He looked almost the same as ever: same hair, same eyes, same boyish smile, which he flashed when he saw Mary. As Mary walked steadily towards him, careful not stumble from her sheer excitement, she saw his face become clearer, clearer than her own memory.

"Hello Mary," he had said, barely keeping his own delight contained. "It's good to see you again."

"It's good to see you as well," Mary said, as she embraced him as old friends did.

Mary sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. She smelled a mixture of coffee (primarily for her grandmother) and tea (primarily for her) wafting from the breakfast room, which was practically below her bedroom. Matthew's bedroom was only a few doors down from her own. Like a lethargic salamander, Mary slid out of her warm bed and into her slippers, padding cat-like to her private bathroom. She caught sight of herself in the mirror and groaned: the dark circles under her eyes were quite evident today, and she looked ghostly pale. This was usually her appearance when she woke up, and it wasn't satisfying to look like a witch first thing in the morning. The Disney princesses had given Mary impossible expectations in waking up.

If Matthew just so happened to see me like this, Mary said to herself as she turned on the cold water tap, I'd stuff his head in the chimney.

God, why did her mind go immediately to Matthew? It must be related the fact that he was, after so long, in her vicinity. And on top of that, he was living closer than he ever had to her. It was a weird sensation: back in England, he had his house in the village, and she had the manor house. To think that the two of them had slept metres away sent Mary disgusted laughter.

But why would she consider stuffing his head down the chimney anyway?

She splashed her face with ice-cold water, brushed her teeth and hair, then returned to her bedroom to find something to wear. A lot of what she had now had been acquired during her stay in New York. According to Grandmama, there was British fashion, and then there was New York couture, and if one had trained one's eye, one would tell the difference between the two. Mary believed that Grandmama was just using her to show off the current fashions for young women.

For today, she chose a certain pair of trousers, a dark-coloured jumper, and black heeled boots. Per usual, she admired herself in the floor-length mirror in the walk-in closet. This morning, she was struck with a different thought: what would Matthew think when he saw her? Matthew was hardly a judgemental person, but since coming to New York Mary believed she had changed a great deal. Would Matthew think the change acceptable? Perhaps he'd be so cloudy-eyed from the tiring plane journey yesterday that he would fail to notice any degree of alteration to Mary's person.

At least she was satisfied with herself. Mary walked out of her bedroom and down the hall, trekked down the stairs to the lower level, and into the small dining room which right now was being serviced as a breakfast buffet. That was one aspect of living with her grandmother that resembled life back at Downton, although she did not have her papa and sisters sitting at the table with her. Nowadays, the only company she had was that of her Grandmama. And this morning, Matthew was included in the mix.

"Good morning Mary," he said to her. He sounded as if he said that every morning, and this day was nothing out of the ordinary.

"You sleep well?" Grandmama asked, winking at Mark. Mary realized that she had slept much later than usual. Just how tired was she actually?

She sat down across from Matthew, but couldn't meet his eyes. She still considered him her friend, but there was an awkwardness between the two of them. Despite such a long time of being apart, and despite all that Mary was doing, she could not find a way to start talking to him.

It was Grandmama that broke the silence; she hated unnecessary quiet, but Mary knew she was eager to see what was "up" between she and Matthew.

"So, what sort of adventures do the two of you have planned for today?" she asked, looking deliberately at Mary.

Matthew looked slyly at Mary. "I don't know. What are we doing today?"

Mary raised her eyebrows to perfect arcs and slid her eyes from Grandmama to Matthew. She hated being singled out. But she had to think quickly, else hear some ridiculously embarrassing notion from Grandmama.

"Well …" she began, running her mouth before thinking of a plausible idea. "When I first arrived here, the first thing I did was walk around as much as I could, mostly up and down Fifth and Sixth Avenue, just to get acclimated to the city."

"Yeah, I remember you doing that," Grandmama said, remembering that day with not a lot of fondness. "Lovely day, chasing you about like a lost dog."

"Actually, you had the car following me," Mary pointed out.

"On the bright side, you gave yourself a lovely pair of stick-thin legs," Grandmama added.

Matthew pretended not to hear this last comment. Mary ignored it as well, though with a bonus eye roll. "And now that everything is set up for the holidays, it'll look quite pretty."

"Then I think you ought to save a bit of strength to walk about at night, when the lights can be seen," Grandmama said. She turned towards Matthew. "I'm telling you, it's like staring at ten-thousand computer screens while sitting in the dark, only much better. The side of Macy's – oh, God, it's a wonder that the world's energy hasn't yet extinguished."

Matthew nodded in agreement. "I'll be glad to have Mary as my guide."

"I hope you brought good walking shoes," Mary said.

"Of course I did," Matthew said, with a subtle twinkle in his ice-blue eyes. Mary purposefully pretended to let her napkin slip from her lap down to the floor, and she bent beneath the table so no one would see her blush, them smile.

Grandmama leaned back in her chair. "I suppose I'm the third wheel now."

"Come now, Grandmama, you can always follow in the car."

"No thank you. I'll take a sleigh ride instead."

Sorry for the late updates once again. But all of your reviews are lovely!