Here's a ficlet written to celebrate Patano & Bijou's Corner blog's 1st birthday.


The Anniversary


When Sybil woke up on that day, she could rejoice in the fact that today was her and Tom's first wedding anniversary. To think that a year had already passed; the time had flown so quickly! Not long ago they had received an invitation for her sister Edith's nuptials. Sybil was happy when she thought that soon all of them, the Crawleys girls, would settle into the lives which they had chosen themselves. What a happy thought indeed that was!

Soon, her mind wandered to how to celebrate her and Tom's first anniversary. She had bought him a present earlier (a box of his favourite sweets and Yeats' collection of poems, The Wind Among the Reeds), but she still hadn't decided what to do in the evening. She was at an advanced stage of her pregnancy, so Irish dancing, full of merry prancing and bouncing, was out of question. She ultimately decided to cook Tom his favourite dish (pork stew with mashed potatoes) for dinner and then spend some wonderful time together at their beloved flat unless her husband had other plans.


Tom was happy to finally finish his work for today; he was very impatient to get home. Today was his and Sybil's first wedding anniversary! The time surely had flown so quickly. He still could remember all the details of their wedding day. Especially, how elated he was back then. Sometimes, Tom couldn't believe that Sybil Crawley was truly his wife. It was like a dream come true.

He then thought about how they should spend this day. He had already bought half of his present (a book of poems by Yeats, The Wind Among the Reeds), and planned to pick the other half on his way home (a bouquet of Sybil's favourite roses), but what to do later in the afternoon? He had previously pondered taking Sybil to a pub, but she was too pregnant for crazy Irish dance moves and obviously couldn't drink beer. What was the fun in watching other people do things that you weren't able to do yourself? So, ultimately, he decided against the pub. Perhaps they would just spend some quality time together at their flat? They both loved their home very much. It was a flat that they had furnished and decorated themselves, a space that was simply theirs. Yes, they would spend a romantic evening at home unless Sybil wished for something different.


When Tom returned home, he was greeted by a very excited Sybil.

"My darling," he whispered as he handed her the roses and the book, "I want to thank you for the wonderful year that you spent with me as my wife."

Sybil smiled gratefully and presented Tom with gifts from her.

"Impossible!" they both shouted at the same time when they unwrapped their respective packages. Each of them held the same book in their hands.

"Unbelievable," Sybil laughed merrily as she looked once more at the books' covers," we're truly telepathic with each other, aren't we?"

"Or maybe we simply have similar tastes and know each other very well," Tom grinned.

"You also know perfectly which roses are my favourite," Sybil whispered affectionately.

"And you know what chocolates I love," Tom replied, put the gifts on the nearby chair, and rushed to embrace her tightly.


After the Bransons ate their dinner (during which Tom was grinning all the time from delight), they sat embraced on the sofa, talking.

"What do you want to do now?" Tom asked his beloved and nuzzled her hair gently.

"I want to dance," Sybil announced immediately.

"Here or do you want to go to a pub?"

"Here, and a slow one of course."

Consequently, they stood up and began dancing without any haste in a tight embrace.

"So, Mrs. Branson, a year already passed…" Tom started the conversation.

"The best year of my life…" Sybil finished his thought.

"Truly?"

"Yes," she confirmed and looked Tom directly in the eyes with such love that it momentarily took his breath away.

"Oh my darling… it was the best year of my life as well. This one year was worth all those years that I had waited for you. One day with you is worth everything," he murmured, visibly moved.

Sybil's response was very simple: she pressed her lips firmly to his and they soon had to stop their dance in order to catch some breath. Yet, they still remained in a close embrace and did not intend to let go.


Later, they sat on the coach in each other's arms once more, but this time they took their new books with them. Both Sybil and Tom flipped through their copies in search for poems that they wanted to read aloud to each other. Most of them, unfortunately, were about unrequited love, which was something that neither of them could identify with.

"I can identify with it to some extent, though. Soon after you turned me down in York, I thought that you didn't love me. Then, when I was waiting for you, I had my doubts as well. On the one hand, you gave me some signals that you weren't indifferent to me, but on the other hand it all felt so impossible…"

"Shush, darling, now I can express my love for you openly, and I'm so happy because of that. You know, I had my doubts as well. You were always open with me, but before you declared your love for me in York, I had had my doubts whether a man like you could love an inexperienced, spoilt girl like me."

"You weren't spoilt… well, maybe a little."

They both laughed wholeheartedly at this, especially remembering the incident at the count in Ripon.

"Look!" Tom suddenly exclaimed, "here's a poem that perfectly reflects my feelings towards you."

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,

Enwrought with golden and silver light,

The blue and the dim and the dark cloths

Of night and light and the half light,

I would spread the cloths under your feet:

But I, being poor, have only my dreams;

I have spread my dreams under your feet;

Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.*

"See? I'm poor and have many dreams in life, but they will only have meaning if I can share them with you. I want to share my life with you and you only. You've always been my dream, actually."

At those words, Sybil took her husband's hand into hers and squeezed it tightly. They also locked eyes, this eye contact saying more than elaborate speeches.

Ultimately, Sybil woke up from their shared reverie and began flipping through her book once more.

"Oh, here is a poem from me to you," she announced after a few minutes.

O what to me the little room

That was brimmed up with prayer and rest;

He bade me out into the gloom,

And my breast lies upon his breast.

O what to me my mother's care,

The house where I was safe and warm

The shadowy blossom of my hair

Will hide us from the bitter storm.

O hiding hair and dewy eyes,

I am no more with life and death,

My heart upon his warm heart lies,

My breath is mixed into his breath.**

"See, Tom? With you, I'm willing to take on every challenge. I left the safety of my childhood home, but it's been worth it. It's been so, so worth it. I only want to be with you and nothing will tear me away from you."

Tom's eyes welled up with happy tears and he was not ashamed of it. Gently, he put his hand on Sybil's prominent belly and caressed it. Then, he bent his head and placed a soft kiss on the bump.

"I love both of you," he murmured tenderly.

"And I love both of you too," Sybil replied in a firm voice.


*William Butler Yeats, The Cloths of Heaven

** William Butler Yeats, The Heart of the Woman