Hello :) First and foremost - thank you for all the reviews. I greatly enjoyed them all. Keep them coming :D.

In this chapter we venture into the post-3x05 AU. Since I stopped watching DA after 3x05, I hope that I'll be able to provide you all with a fresh look of post-3x05 DA.

Traditionally - hope that you'll enjoy :)

New Life 1920

May she be granted beauty and yet not
Beauty to make a stranger's eye distraught,
Or hers before a looking-glass, for such,
Being made beautiful overmuch,
Consider beauty a sufficient end,
Lose natural kindness and maybe
The heart-revealing intimacy
That chooses right and never find a friend.

[...]

May she become a flourishing hidden tree
That all her thoughts may like the linnet be,
And have no business but dispensing round
Their magnanimities of sound,
Nor but in merriment begin a chase,
Nor but in merriment a quarrel.
Oh, may she live like some green laurel
Rooted in one dear perpetual place.

- W.B Yeats – „A Prayer for My Daughter"

Summer 1920

Sybil Branson opened her eyes after a long and satisfying sleep. For a moment, the young woman had an entirely blissful feeling that she was at her and Tom's Dublin flat. But no, they were still here, at Downton, in her old room.

Her life had been a total mayhem lately – not only because she had become a mother, but also because of all the complications that had surrounded her labour. It had been only yesterday that she had been allowed to return home from the hospital, and she still had been told to lie in bed for the next few days in order to fully recover after the Caesarean section.

Sybil regretted that she couldn't spend as much time with her daughter as she wished to, even though Tom was considerate as always and tried to bring the little one to her mother as often as it was possible.

While the young mother was lost in her thoughts, the door opened, and Tom Branson entered the bedroom with an infant in his arms. He approached the bed and got into it, laying himself next to Sybil. Without a word, he handed the little bundle to his wife.

Sybil cherished every moment when she could look at her daughter. This little one was so amazing. As a nurse, Sybil had encountered many babies at the Dublin hospital, but still – their daughter was special. She was the living symbol of their love, and Sybil adored the fact that this little one was so similar to Tom. Sybil could see Tom's nose, Tom's eyes, Tom's cheeks… and she could feel a happy thrill in her spine. It was so thrilling to think that they had something together that would be always theirs… their Saoirse.

Sybil was still feeling horrible, but she didn't want to sleep anymore. She just woke up and the only thing on her mind was to see her baby as soon as possible. She remembered holding the little one with Tom soon before she had fallen asleep. They hadn't spent much time together, but Sybil already missed her child acutely. Same could be said about Tom; how she longed to see him as well!

"I want to see my husband and my child," the young mother told Dr Clarkson.

"It's very early in the morning, I don't know when Mr. Branson may turn up here.."

"I am here."

Both Sybil and the doctor looked up. In the doorway stood a familiar young man with a white bundle in his arms.

Sybil's face broke into a large smile; she didn't feel any exhaustion at that moment.

Tom slowly approached the bed and explained, "I couldn't sleep all night… and then I had to come here as quickly as I could. I had to see you and know that you're all right…"

His wife's eyes welled up with happy tears – Tom's devotion always moved her. Actually, she was sometimes worried whether she didn't do too little for him in return. He had once promised her to devote every waking minute to her happiness; and she was desperate to do the same for him. Not because she felt that she needed to, but because she wanted to. Tom deserved it and she loved him with all of her heart.

Once Doctor Clarkson had retreated towards the door, Tom sat on the edge of the bed and showed the bundle to her mother.

Sybil's face had no more traces of pain. She smiled at her husband serenely and whispered weakly, "I think that we should name her."

"So, what are we leaning towards ultimately?" Tom replied with a small grin. He totally remembered how many different ideas on the issue they had had previously.

"In fact, there's one name that I really want to give her… but only if you want it too. Just be honest with me and tell me if you like it because what I want most is for our daughter to have a name chosen by both of her parents."

"I promise to be honest," replied Tom and held out his hand to stroke Sybil's curls encouragingly.

"I've been thinking lately that we should give our child an Irish name, now that we're on exile… to honour her Irish roots and to have some reminder of our home. And I really like the name Saoirse specifically."

Tom bent down to kiss her brow, "Freedom, huh? Very fitting for us. I love it. And hopefully it will be prophetic as well – I hope that our little girl will always be free to make her own choices and to live the life that she wants to live."

At that moment Miss Saoirse Branson decided to open her eyes and prompted her parents to focus all of their attention on her perfect blue eyes.

After Tom and Saoirse had left the room, Sybil took a few guidebooks about childcare from the nightstand and delved into them. However, she didn't even manage to turn a page when she heard a knock on the door.

"Come in."

The door opened and Sybil was happy to welcome her eldest sister. Mary sat on the chair next to the bed and glanced at the books that Sybil was keeping on her lap.

"Hoping to become a perfect mum?" the young woman teased her baby sister.

"Maybe not perfect, but there's a lot that I need to learn."

"You won't have to learn it that quickly… at least as long as you're here."

The truth of those words hit Sybil strongly. Yes, here at Downton she was not expected to take care of her child only by herself.

"Tom and I would prefer to look after Saoirse ourselves. I can accept help until I'm fully recovered, but later we would prefer to live by our own rules."

"But you're now living here, and it will not hurt you if you abide by Downton's rules for the time being. After all, Papa prevented Tom's arrest and offered you this house as a place of refuge," Mary furrowed her eyebrows.

"Yes, and we're both very grateful for it. We don't want to create any havoc, don't worry. But we also need some privacy, and I don't think that allowing us to have a free choice on how to bring up our child will cause any problems or disrupt normal life at Downton."

Mary Crawley decided not to discuss this issue further; she knew that Sybil's points were valid, but at the same time she was also aware of her father's rigid views. It was definitely not a good moment to worry Sybil with anything of this sort – the most important thing for the time being was her recovery. Thinking about all the problems that bringing a child up at Downton entailed could certainly wait. "So," the eldest Crawley sister tried to change the topic, "the little one's name is S... sorry, Sybil, I'm afraid that I can't pronounce it yet."

Sybil grinned mischievously, "We will need to give you all a lesson."

"I'm afraid that Papa will not approve," Mary said before she could bite her tongue.

"I'm afraid not," Sybil sighed in response.

Mary felt that, regardless of the topic that she would introduce at that moment, the conversation would still lead to mentioning their father. Thus, she acknowledged that it would be better to leave Sybil in peace if that meant avoiding a difficult discussion. When she was trying to get up from the chair, however, she heard her sister's voice.

"It will be very different when you and Matthew have a baby," Sybil said with a warm smile, "He'll be so happy… don't worry, I'm not jealous…"

"He is happy about your baby; or rather he will be. Just give him time, " Mary finally managed to stand up, "I really must go now, Sybil. Just rest peacefully."

Once her elder sister was gone, Sybil felt a need to reflect on what had passed between them. Surprisingly, she became focused on one thing – that Mary's voice had acquired a certain tone of sadness after her future baby had been mentioned.

The dinner finished early to Tom Branson's satisfaction. The young father quickly excused himself from drinking port and headed towards his and Sybil's bedroom. Once he entered the room, he found his wife deeply engrossed in a book devoted to childcare.

"You'll be an excellent mother. Actually, you're already are," Tom sent his beloved an encouraging smile and began preparing for the bed.

When he finally settled next to her, Sybil muttered, "I can't wait to take care of Saoirse myself. I feel quite well already."

"There's no need to rush things. Everything is under control, " Tom replied and gently took her into his arms.

Sybil sighed and laid her head against her husband's chest. "I know, but I hate doing nothing; and I also want things to go smoothly at least in this respect because soon we'll need to tackle a lot of issues."

Tom could only nod in response. Their life was to change irrevocably – not only because they were now parents, but also because they had to find a new place to live. They needed a new space that would be just theirs and they wished to create their own small world again. First and foremost, he had to search for a new job. But not now. There were things that were far more important for the time being.

"Darling, we'll deal with all of this when the time comes. Right now we should above all cherish the fact that we're still together," the young man whispered into his wife's ear and began spreading kisses throughout her face.

Sybil giggled and laid herself even more comfortably into his embrace. Soon, her quiet snoring sent Tom a message that she was soundly asleep.

The lamp on the nightstand threw a snop of light on the sleeping figure. Tom could swear that that a yellow glow formed around his beloved wife's head; it looked like a halo and gave Sybil an appearance of a slumbering angel.

Silently, the young man thanked God that Sybil had not joined the heavenly choir on that eventful day when Saoirse had been born.

Next Time: Settling Down 1919