Firstly - thank you very much for all the reviews, follows and favourites :)

Secondly - sorry for such a long break in updating. My life's been a bit hectic lately. There's also another reason - this chapter is much longer than the previous ones :)

Thirdly - I may not update this story for some time. I'm finishing my MA thesis right now and need to focus on that at the moment. I also plan to write another ficlet as a gift for a friend and update "Times" soon. Anyway, I'm submitting my thesis around 15th June, and after that I should be free to do lots of writing xD

Fourthly - please do not let the fact that I may not update this story for some time discourage you from leaving a review :P. All reviews are very, very much appreciated.

Last, but not least - hope that you'll enjoy this chapter :)

Settling Down 1920

Years I had been from home,
And now, before the door
I dared not open, lest a face
I never saw before

Stare vacant into mine
And ask my business there.
My business, - just a life I left,
Was such still dwelling there?

- Emily Dickinson "Home"

Summer 1920

It was their first family walk with a pram. The recovery period was over, and Sybil was finally allowed to venture outside.

The weather was lovely. It was moderately warm and sunny, without any unpleasant "surprises" looming in the nearest future. The only "problem" had appeared before the Bransons left the big house – the young parents had been unable to decide who would be pushing Saoirse's pram. Tom had not wanted Sybil to exert herself, whereas Sybil had not wished to be treated as a convalescent anymore. Ultimately, they had realized that they both wanted to have the privilege of being able to push the pram, so they had decided to take turns.

This family walk also offered them an opportunity to spend some time together outside the walls of the big house. Privacy was hard to achieve at Downton, where the servants could knock at any moment even at the door of your own bedroom, and sometimes not knock at all if they mistakenly assumed that you weren't at your room. While the inhabitants of the house were accustomed to this order of things, the Bransons weren't; they desperately needed their own private space. At Downton they felt constrained and caged in a way. It was a whole different matter when they had previously spent there just a few days for a visit, and it was a completely different case now, when it was clear that they would for certain have to spend the next few months under the Crawleys' roof.

"I must start searching for a new job soon," Tom remarked suddenly. He had not talked about this issue with Sybil during her recovery because he had not wanted to bother her with it; but now they both knew that this topic could no longer be evaded.

"Maybe you should send some of your articles to the English press?"

"Send them articles advocating the freedom for Ireland?"

"But you did write on other topics too, darling…"

"It doesn't matter. I'm an Irishman with a past that precludes any chance of getting a job at an English paper."

Sybil bit her lip nervously.

"You're still against Liverpool?" Tom finally asked.

His wife did not hesitate with an answer. "No, because as I told you, I don't want you to move backwards."

"Isn't living again on your father's money a regression? Isn't living here permanently a regression as well? Besides, I don't think I'll be able to bear it. I don't feel good here. Liverpool is a fine place to live, Sybil. And we have a family there."

"From what I know, you and Kieran are not on good terms."

"Are we on good terms with your father, then?"

Sybil could not deny the truth of these words. Frankly, she didn't know what to say anymore. There was no tangible solution to their problem; they could only hope for a sudden stroke of luck. But she didn't want them to choose the rational way and go to Liverpool since she was hoping that, despite the unfortunate external circumstances, they could make it work. She believed in her husband and his talents as well as strength of character; she knew that he was able to pull through in spite of all the odds that were against him. Not only that – it was certain that he would not waste any opportunity that might come into his way.

Why then settle for less than they could have so quickly? They were both fighters; they always strove for more than was reasonably attainable. Actually, if they hadn't been as such, they would have never got married. No, Liverpool was not the right option for them. At least – not yet.

Finally, they came to the bench and decided to rest a little. Once they sat comfortably down, Sybil made an attempt to return to their previous conversation.

"Tom, I really think that we should stay here for the time being. We'll get some family support, I promise you. Maybe not from my father… but there is still Mary, Matthew, my mother… and I think that you ought to look for another job before you decide to return to mechanic work. We also need to have some peace right now. Our life has been so eventful lately… "

Tom said nothing; he only took her hand into his and gave it a gentle squeeze. Then, he reached for her cheek and caressed it tenderly.

They didn't need too many words to properly communicate. They had known each other for seven years now, and not only that – there was some inherent understanding between the two of them, between two people who felt and perceived the world in a similar way. Thus, they were able to naturally read each other's signals and respond to them also in a non-verbal way.

Of course, the Bransons' organic bond did not mean that they did not like talking to each other because they could converse for hours without any break. But words were not always necessary for them to reach an understanding.

Sybil was the first one to break the silence. "There's only one problem with staying here – the christening. We cannot wait much longer, Tom. "

Tom squeezed her hand again. "Are you still sure that you want to do this? I know that you're doing it just for me…"

"I'm sure. You've done many things for me, darling. I know how much this means for you, while I really don't mind that our daughter will not be christened in my faith, " Sybil replied and gave him an encouraging, radiant smile.

"But you know what this may later entail? It's not easy to be a Catholic in England…"

"We won't stay in England forever, will we? I'm sure that we'll come back to Ireland one day," Sybil said confidently.

Tom was immensely moved by his wife's statement; he momentarily became lost for words and was only able to squeeze Sybil's hand yet again.

"I'll try to organize it, then… But how will your family react to this news?" he managed to utter at last.

Sybil's face instantly became very tense. "I won't lie to you, darling… My father… well… but the rest of the family shall take it better."

"Don't you find it strange that your father happens to dislike everything that I am? Though I've become accustomed to it already, to be honest. And remember - we still haven't announced Saoirse's name to your whole family…"

"We'll tell them today after dinner," Sybil declared boldly. "There's no need to wait any longer. I'm totally all right now, darling, and ready to deal with all the possible stress."

"Are we going to tell them today about the Catholic christening as well?"

Sybil pondered her husband's question for a moment before replying, "No, I think that we shouldn't vex them too much in one day. One step at a time, as Mary would say."

At that moment, Saoirse decided that her parents had already talked too much; that little one definitely possessed an ability to perceive whether someone talked enough and needed to be interrupted. This time the little girl opted for the "gentle way" and did not start crying. Instead, she opened her tiny mouth and began cooing adorably.

It had to work. Both of Saoirse's parents immediately bent down to take her in their arms. Tom was the one who ultimately surrendered; he knew that mother and daughter needed to make up for the time lost when Sybil had been recovering from her Cesarean.

Saoirse cooed again and waved her tiny fists, sending Tom and Sybil into an entirely blissful state. They didn't wanted to talk about anything else anymore. They didn't want to even think about what was ahead of them.

It was just here and now. It was only them and their little girl. The world outside ceased to exist.

Once the dinner was over and the men joined the ladies in the drawing room, Tom and Sybil sat next to each other and waited for the best moment to tell the family about their daughter's name. Well, at least some of the family - Mary, Matthew and Edith had already been informed of the news. But now the more difficult part was ahead.

Sybil felt her husband's hand moving to reach hers. She gratefully accepted the reassuring touch, but couldn't help pondering that situations liked to repeat themselves. Just a year and a half ago, she and Tom had announced their engagement in the same room, facing her family's shock and lack of acceptance. This evening they would have to deal with the same once more.

It's ridiculous. Why do we always have to fight battles with my family? We're adult people. We don't do anything wrong. We just want to lead the kind of life that we have chosen themselves. Why do they think they're entitled to have any sort of power over us? Yes, we're their guests, so we need to accept their rules to some extent now… but what right do they have to criticize the name that we have chosen for our child? Sybil's temper flared; she was beginning to have enough of her family's behavior. She had been patient and understanding for months because she was aware that they needed time to accept her marriage. She had not mentioned her parents' absence at the wedding in Dublin even once. Actually, she had tried to understand their point of view and had striven not enter into any quarrels, but now her patience was approaching its limit.

Sybil Branson did not feel intimidated tonight; she felt daring and ready to make the announcement, regardless of her family's potential reaction. She glanced at Tom to check if he felt the same, and saw similar determination in his eyes. Yes, it was high time. They were ready to face the Crawleys again.

"Mama," she addressed Lady Grantham, who had just ended a conversation with Cousin Isobel and was now reaching for her cup of tea.

"Yes, my darling?" Cora Crawley replied, and took a sip out of the cup.

"I just want to say, " Sybil inhaled deeply and squeezed her husband's hand harder, "that we decided on our daughter's name."

Cora withdrew the cup from her mouth and gave Sybil an indulgent smile, "We're all in anticipation. What name have you chosen?"

Sybil looked around all the faces in the sitting room – Mary, Edith and Matthew were sending her worried looks, Cousin Isobel nodded encouragingly, and Grandmama's face was hard to decipher. Ultimately, Sybil looked at her father, whose face bore an unpleasant grimace. He clearly anticipated something that he would not approve of and seemed to prepare himself for a display of a self-indulgent eye-rolling.

It was the last straw.

"Her name is Saoirse," Sybil announced in a strong, forceful tone.

Lady Grantham's cup hit the floor.

A moment later, the room fell completely silent. Carson was unsurprisingly the first one to regain his composure and quickly left in search of one of the maids that would clean the floor.

"Do you plan to emigrate to China?" the Dowager Countess' voice finally broke the awkward silence.

"CHINA?" exclaimed Sybil and Tom in unison.

"I thought that only Chinese are able to invent the unspeakable."

Tom's nostrils started to flare. Sybil pressed his hand with all the strength that she could muster.

"I suppose that it's a Gaelic name, isn't it?" Robert Crawley remarked out of sudden.

"It is," came Tom's defiant reply.

"I totally expected that it would be a name connected with Ireland. Though I still didn't foresee this. I thought that it would be something in the line of Augusta, after Lady Gregory," snorted Lord Grantham.

"I think that Sybil and Tom are entirely free to name their child as they please," declared Isobel unhesitatingly.

Sybil sent her a thankful smile. "In fact, Saoirse means exactly that – freedom."

Lord Grantham snorted again, but Isobel's face lit up. "I think that it's lovely. And very fitting for your child."

"Oh, of course. The stranger the name is, the more it suits your taste. You would actually surprise me if you didn't like it," stated the Dowager sarcastically before continuing, "So, would you two be as kind as to inform us how to say this… name?"

At that moment, Mary Crawley made up her mind to join the conversation. "Granny is right. Sybil and Tom have already chosen the name, so there's no use in discussing its merits and disadvantages. Instead, it'd better to focus on how to correctly pronounce it."

"Oh yes, we definitely need that," Lady Grantham backed her eldest daughter up.

Sybil knew that Mary and her mother merely wanted to redirect the conversation and was deeply grateful for it. So, the young woman immediately complied with their request and uttered slowly and clearly, "It's pronounced Sear-Sha."

Robert could not hold it anymore. "Why do you want to make my granddaughter an object of ridicule? Cannot you give her a normal name? And for what reason? To make a display of your nationalism?"

Tom's whole body became tense; he quickly stood up to face his father-in-law. The discussion swiftly turned into a two-actor spectacle, with the rest of the family only watching the unfolding scene. "Firstly, I'm not a nationalist. Secondly, I would be grateful if you could tell me why there is any wrong in giving a child a name connected with her country."

"HER country? Since when she's Irish? From what I know, her mother is English and she was born on the English soil…" Robert raged.

"Yes, and I can promise you that her English heritage will be cultivated too. But she's half-Irish and will hopefully live in Ireland one day, so we want to ensure that she'll be brought up in the tradition of this country as well."

"I want to remind you that this child also has a mother. Does Sybil mean nothing in all of this?"

"She does. A lot. I don't do anything without taking her opinion and wishes into account. Sybil chose to live in Ireland on her free will a year and a half ago, and she still wants to return there one day. She also wishes for our child to have a Gaelic name."

Tom spoke in a polite, but confident manner, which vexed his father-in-law immensely.

"I'm amazed at the power that you have over my daughter. You'll bring her round to your point of view every time you wish, won't you?" Robert yelled.

That was definitely too much for Sybil to handle. She also stood up to face her father.

"I can't believe how low you think of me, Papa. I've always had my own mind in case you haven't noticed. Fortunately, Tom knows me much, much better than you do. It was my idea to give our daughter an Irish name, you know."

Robert's jaw fell. He couldn't even move anymore.

Sybil, on the other hand, was like on fire, and not bashful to finally voice the disappointments and pain that she had been holding up for months now, "I tried to understand you, Papa. I knew that you could not understand my choices in life, but I thought that at least you would not be unjust and judgmental. I accepted that you didn't want to come to our wedding because it was still very soon, and you were not yet ready to accept us … but what wrong has our child done? And honestly – you make such a fuss about Saoirse's name as if you in fact cared about her… when you haven't even held her once since she was born!"

The young woman at last finished her speech and turned on the heel to leave the room. She only nodded at her husband and whispered his name; Tom instantly sensed what she meant, and followed her to the door.

It was exactly like a year and a half ago.

Everyone remaining in the sitting room was too stunned to say anything. Robert just sat down on the sofa, still breathing heavily.

More than Lady Grantham's cup was cracked on that day.

Tom watched his wife as she was pacing their bedroom in an attempt to calm herself down. They were both shaken by what had happened in the drawing room, but Sybil was unsurprisingly the one who was more affected.

Tom felt a painful pang of frustration when he thought about Lord Grantham's behavior. He knew how important it was for Sybil to receive some acceptance from her father. Sybil doesn't want much from you. She's already borne a lot. More than you deserve, if you ask me. She doesn't ask you to be thrilled with our marriage, but only to accept our choices and not to judge us unfairly. Your daughter is so loving and full of forgiveness; she didn't say a word about your absence at our wedding and behaved as if nothing had happened. I'm sure that even now she does not bear any grudge towards you…

"Tom?" Sybil's quiet voice broke the flow of his thoughts.

"Yes, my dearest darling?"

Sybil did not respond; she merely collapsed on a nearby chair and gave out a deep breath. It was clear that she desperately wanted to find some inner peace."I didn't expect that he would take it so badly… and this is only the first of many battles."

"I'm so sorry for losing my temper, love."

Sybil shook her head. "No, it was not your fault. You've endured enough of my father's unfair treatment. Today he definitely crossed the line. "

Tom sighed loudly. "It seemed that we learnt how to survive each other's company previously, but now, that we're living here permanently, and after what I did…"

"We'll need to strike a happy balance once more. Let's hope that Mama and Mary will somehow help us to deal with Papa…"

The young couple's exchange was interrupted by an unexpected knock on the door.

"Come in!" the they both yelled at the same time; the door opened and, to the Bransons' surprise, Edith entered the room.

The middle Crawley sister looked very nervous, and it wasn't only because she visited somebody's bedroom at such a late hour; she was repeatedly giving apprehensive glances at the sheets of paper in her hands.

"I'm sorry for interrupting you…" Edith at last opened her mouth to speak, "I hope that you're fine after what happened in the drawing room… but don't worry, I didn't come to talk about that."

Sybil and Tom exchanged puzzled looks; both had no idea what Edith wanted from them if not to discuss this evening's events.

"I just…" the young woman stuttered shyly. Ultimately, she took a deep breath and voiced what was on her mind, "Actually, I've come to see you, Tom… You're a journalist, so you must be knowledgeable about writing… Could you read these…" she pointed at the papers that she was holding, "and tell me what do you think about… this piece of writing? Please, don't hesitate to be completely honest with me. If it's bad, I want to know it… and if it's not that bad, then I would love to know what I should improve…"

"Is it something political?" Tom asked.

Edith's face suddenly turned red. "No, it's not. It's… a beginning of a novel. But don't worry, it's not a romance."

Both Tom and Sybil were surprised at this statement, but managed to hide it, and instead gave Edith encouraging smiles.

"I do not see myself as an expert when it comes to novel writing… but I will definitely read this piece and tell you what I think about it, " Tom assured his sister-in-law.

Edith only smiled weakly in response and retreated to the door. Before she left the room, though, she turned to Sybil and Tom once more and spoke in a more confident way than before, "I'm sorry that I didn't say anything today in the drawing room… but I was afraid that I could only make the matters worse. You know, my opinion does not count much in this house… I just want to assure you that I'm on your side. I really think that we should stick together in this household." Having finished her little speech, Edith sent the Bransons yet another awkward smile, murmured "Thank you" to Tom, and quietly left the young pair's bedroom.

Sybil and Tom were silent for a few seconds, after which Tom attempted to resume conversation. "So, it seems that your sister listened to everyone and intends to focus on something else than her failed wedding… though I'm not sure this is what your grandmother had in mind."

Sybil merely nodded her assent absent-mindedly; her attention was thoroughly consumed by something else. Finally, she decided to share her thoughts with Tom, "Have you heard what Edith said? That she's on our side?"

Tom couldn't help smiling when she saw traces of joy on his beloved wife's face. It was the first time this evening that Sybil looked genuinely happy.

He approached the chair that Sybil was sitting on and put his arms around her in a reassuring embrace. "I have. She's a sensible woman, your sister; and she has a good heart. Too bad that she still needs more self-confidence. Though, I have to admit that it's not surprising considering how she's sometimes treated here... Sorry, Sybil, I feel that I need to speak the truth, "

"Oh, I know. You don't have to tell me about it, " Sybil sighed, "I so hope that she'll find her place one day and will be as happy as me and Mary are. "

"So you're happy? I have made you happy?"

Sybil smiled indulgently and leant deeper into his embrace. "You most certainly have. See? I don't even try to tease you about it today. I don't actually understand how you could ever doubt it. I think I've always been clear about how very happy you make me."

Tom chuckled merrily and pressed his lips to her hair.

"Moreover," Sybil continued, "I have some happy news for you."

Tom stopped in the middle of another hair kiss and gave his wife a questioning glance.

"I talked to Dr Clarkson yesterday when he came to examine me. I asked him whether I could work as a nurse at Downton hospital for the next few months; and he agreed, " Sybil informed her husband joyfully.

Tom had to laugh. "See? Now I'm out of job, while my wife is the bread winner of our little family. I'm glad, darling, that you'll be able to continue doing what you love, and that we'll be in some way independent from your relatives."

"There are still a lot of battles to fight. Imagine their reactions to this news."

"I know. But we will fight them. Together, as always," Tom maintained and placed a long, deep kiss at his beloved's temple.

"There's still one more thing that I must tell you today," Sybil announced out of the blue.

"Oh?" Tom now looked at her in consternation.

"I love you."

Next time: Preparing for the Big Event 1919