Author's note -

*waves sheepishly* Apologies, I haven't updated this one in a while! Thank you as always for your feedback on this story collection, I really love to hear from you.:)

This was one of those ideas that come to you sometimes, and just won't quit - I had to write it! It's a season 3 AU (and remember, it's me...).

With you forever

Tom Branson stood in the nursery at Downton Abbey, leaning over his daughter's cradle.

He still couldn't believe that he was a father, that the woman he loved so deeply had married him and given birth to this perfect child. His elbow was bruised from the pinches he had given himself.

The baby was sleeping peacefully as he reached in to stroke her soft, fine hair and began to sing a lullaby he remembered from his own childhood:

"I'd rock my own sweet childie to rest in a cradle of gold on a bough of the willow,
To the shoheen ho of the wind of the west and the lulla lo of the soft sea billow.
Sleep, baby dear, Sleep without fear:
Father is here beside your pillow."

The little girl stirred at the sound, and opened her blue-grey eyes wide to look at him. Eyes so like Sybil's, he felt a tear trickle down his cheek.

Does she know me? Does she remember my voice, from when she was growing inside her mother?

Whether she knew him or not, she was meeting his gaze, calm and unafraid. And he couldn't resist picking her up – carefully, so as not to let her fall.

She settled into his arms, one tiny hand clasping his thumb. As he took a seat in the windowsill, she fell back into sleep. He began to sing again, even more quietly:

"Lulla lo! to the rise and fall of father's breast 'tis sleep has bound you,
And oh, my child, what cosier nest for rosier rest could love have found you?
Sleep, baby dear, Sleep without fear:
Father's two arms are clasped around you."

For a moment, he allowed himself to linger on the events of her birth. Her mother's fierce struggle to bring her into the world, his own gut-wrenching fear that he would lose everything he loved in a cruel moment, and then...

He heard the door open and looked up, expecting to see Mary come in.

But it wasn't Mary.

It was his precious wife standing there before him.

Slowly she moved, her eyes veiled, the trauma she had survived writ large on her pale face. A tired smile curved her mouth as she saw him, and he smiled back at her, feeling an ache of joy to see her up and about again.

"Sybil? Darling, should you be out of bed? I thought Dr Clarkson said..."

"I know, I know. I am supposed to rest for a week. But I haven't even seen our daughter properly yet! Do you really think I could stay away from her?"

Sybil crossed the floor, and a look of pain creased her brow, a dark shadow across the sun, before she pushed it resolutely away. The sight of it made Tom's heart flutter in his chest.

If it's possible, I think I love her even more now...

"Come here, sweetheart. Sit with us."

With the arm that wasn't holding the baby, he beckoned her towards him. She took a seat beside him gratefully, snuggling into his side and looking up at him.

"Can I hold her? I'm not sure if I can do it alone..."

Without a word, he lifted the baby into her arms, encircling them both in his own embrace.

She leaned her head on his shoulder as she looked at their child. The glow of motherhood illuminated her face, giving her an almost unearthly beauty that filled him with awe.

"What were you singing when I came in, love? It was beautiful."

"An old Irish lullaby. Listen, there's one more verse..."

"I'd put my own sweet childie to sleep in a silver boat on the beautiful river,
Where a shoheen whisper the white cascades, and a lulla lo the green flags shiver.
Sleep, baby dear, Sleep without fear:
Mother is here with you forever."

She stayed silent for a moment at the end of the song, then sighed as she spoke.

"That's so wonderful, Tom. I love the words... I promise you, I promise both of you. I will love you always, just as I do now. I'll be with you forever."

He kissed the top of her head and tightened his arms around her and their daughter, struggling to keep the emotion from his voice.

"Me too, my beautiful girls. I love you both so much, I'm so lucky to be your husband, your father. I'll do whatever I have to, to take care of you, to work hard, to win back a life for us."

Tom and Sybil didn't talk any more after that. They sat in silence, cuddled close, their hearts too full for words as they stared at their daughter and dreamed of their future. A future that was theirs to create.

A/N -

This idea came to me when I discovered the beautiful, rather melancholy Irish lullaby by Alfred Perceval Graves that Tom is singing in this story. I used a bit of artistic licence with the lyrics but it's basically correct. If you look on youtube for "Irish Lullaby by Bill Douglas", you should find it.

Thank you to Allen Leech Online for the beautiful picture I used to illustrate this story on Tumblr. And – I hope you knew this would end happily when you started reading it (that was my hint at the start) - don't forget, in my fics, Lady Sybil always lives!