This drabble is set somewhere in series 1. I tried to include a row of symbols for silver. Main theme is "object of all desires". Other symbols are moon(light) and water.
Silver – Object of all Desires
The remaining hours and minutes of the day trickled by as the family spent the moments after dinner in the drawing room together. Today it was just Robert, Cora, and the girls. That didn't mean there was more peace in the room than with Mama and Mrs Crawley present because Mary and Edith managed to perform arguments nearly as full of blows as the elder ladies.
Robert leaned his weight more fully against the mantelpiece. With his right hand, he swirled the amber liquid in his tumbler. His eyes only shortly locked with the lulling warm colour of his drink before they sought the enchanting vision across the room again. Cora sat calmly on the edge of a settee, her shoulders and back portraying a straight posture with seemingly effortless grace. Her soft gaze wandered through the room, her expression relaxed, unbothered by the hostile jabs between her daughters. For a moment it seemed to Robert as if Cora didn't belong in the setting around her. Her sparkling gown reflected the lights from the chandeliers and highlighted her porcelain taint. Her mind was far away, her expression one of tranquil absence. Only her celestial appearance was placed in the room.
Her gaze went to the dark windows. With something like longing, she observed the dark gardens, bathed in the light of the waxing moon. Robert could easily picture how she wandered the grounds in her thoughts as an attempt to escape the disharmonic family evening. He did not begrudge her. Robert knew that Cora's thoughts were always with her daughters, lately even more so. It occupied her – as it probably should – to ensure them a promising future, to find them cordial matches. But it wasn't easy he knew, and Cora took this task very serious, in a different way, though, than Mama had done. Cora's commitment was not mainly based on the obligation to secure the family's decency (as was Mama's main driving force) but on a simple power that stood behind nearly all her actions, and it was love. Simply love. Robert had needed a while to understand that her pure kind of love was a heaven-sent gift, not something foreign and improper. It was an unbelievable strength that he wouldn't underestimate this easily again. But Cora's love toward all people made matchmaking for their daughters a very absorbing task for her. To see her being able to tune out for a change was reassuring for Robert. She needed that pause once in a while.
"I think everyone might look for something else," Sybil's voice reached his ears. "It isn't wrong if Mary wants something else from marriage than you, Edith," she tried mediating her sisters' argument.
Edith turned her face away but Robert could see her annoyed and resigned expression. She wasn't entirely defeated but it was Edith's way of miffed and hurt resilience that wasn't particularly nice to witness. Somehow, it made people look away.
"I think I've had enough straining company today," Mary declared. Her straight shoulders and slightly snobbish look build a tight wall like a Mary-own armour around her. She smoothed her skirts as she got up from the sofa and turned to Cora to nod at her, bidding her good night, but Cora was distracted. Distracted by the tranquillity of the night outside.
"Good night, Mama," Mary said. Cora's head turned around slowly, and it took a moment until a soft smile appeared on her features after her daughter's words had sunken in.
"Good night, my dear."
Sybil's look sought Edith who still sat huffily in the corner of the settee.
"Well," Sybil looked between the three remaining possible conversation partners. Apparently, all not very promising prospects. "I think I'll call it a night too," she concluded. "What about you, Edith?"
Edith got up without words, and the girls left the room one after the other.
"Good night!" Robert called after them and sat down his glass on the cold mantelpiece.
When the sound of the departing steps of three pairs of ladies' heels was swallowed by the closing door, Cora rose from the settee and went to the high windows. She was seeking the direct light of the moon as if she was pulled there by a string. Robert followed her slowly because she exerted the same force on him as the moon did on her. Cora mesmerised him. Somehow, this night in particular. He felt a little silly that he couldn't take his eyes off his wife. He knew her by heart. How could there be something that he hadn't seen until now? But here she was, wandering in front of him wordlessly from window to window, in and out of the silvery light, and every time the moon illuminated her again it highlighted another part of her. Once it was the gentle slope of her nose, another time it was the fine hair in the back of her neck. And always, the light was captured and reflected by her glittery gown. Robert wouldn't have said it was a silver gown when Cora had come down for dinner wearing this dress but it certainly was silver now. He couldn't even tell if she had worn it already some time, and he wouldn't even have said that it was a particularly pretty gown. An ideal dress for a simple dinner with family. But in the moonlight, it was transformed, and it shone, and it flowed around Cora's curves nicely, and it lured him into Cora's immediate vicinity.
When Cora halted and turned a little, Robert's thoughts returned to reality, at least a little. He now saw where Cora had guided them. He didn't know if it was her intention to bring him here as well, maybe she was still as absentminded as he was until now. She stood in front of the double-doored floor level windows that served as an exit to the gardens. Only slowly Cora's hand found its way onto the brass door handle where it rested for a moment.
"Let's go outside for a moment," Robert proposed in a soft tone.
Cora turned to him, ripped from her thoughts. The look on her face showed that it hadn't been her real intention to leave the house. She really had just been dreaming, wandering in the garden in her mind, just as Robert pictured her doing it several minutes ago.
The surprised look on her face turned into a gleaming smile. The corner of her mouth only twitched ever so slightly but the brimming of her eyes held all the more joy.
"Would you really like to?" Cora asked quietly. She provided him with an inquisitive look. She knew very well that Robert wasn't up to adventures in the evening when they weren't up in her room already. Nightly strolls through dark rooms or moonlit gardens were usually put off as hokum by him when it came up as a rare suggestion from her. Going out into the gardens was something they had done on long ball nights when they had been exhausted from all the social interactions and the dancing, and when they sought some time alone. Going out when they were at home was something Robert saw no sense in. 'We could very well just go upstairs if we want to be alone, Cora,' he had argued. And enjoying the outdoors, as had been her next argument, could be much better done by daylight, he had said.
So, Cora was all the more astonished when Robert answered without as much hesitation, "Of course, I'd like to."
He reached out his arm and put his hand on hers on the door handle. Gently he pressed onto the back of her slender hand. Robert could watch Cora hold her breath while he slowly moved their hands to turn the handle and open the door. Her eyes didn't leave his and her body was tensed in anticipation. At this moment Robert got the thrill of taking night walks. Maybe it was the intense presence of the nearly full moon that bathed everything in a supernal way, maybe it was Cora's very own radiance. Robert enjoyed it one way or the other.
A fresh breeze met them when the crack of the door grew wider.
"It's a beautiful night," Cora whispered as she half-stepped outside with her covered hand still on the handle. Robert followed close behind her.
"It sure is," he breathed into her ear, being close behind her back. He only shortly saw the silvery leaves of the box hedges in front of them when his gaze was pulled to the bobbing fine curls in the back of her neck. They had adopted a light silver sheen as well. The finest of hairs even seemed to have shining transparency, as if the light of the moon had sucked all its chocolate colour from it and had furnished it with its magical silver essence.
Cora walked into the gardens and her treads got lighter with every single step into the shiny coated green. But as soon as Robert lost her contact, because her hand slipped so easily from his, his heartbeat climbed and the gentle wind made him freeze and shiver. He hurried to follow her. She seemed determined to keep walking but her wandering look revealed that she had no specific plan.
With quick strides, Robert caught up to her. "Give me your hand, Cora," he said in a hushed voice. He didn't dare to speak in a louder tone. It seemed unbefitting for the bewitched situation. Cora looked at him over her shoulder, and her hand found his waiting one assuredly. Her soft grin was warm despite the cold light and it seemed to transport gratitude she had when it came to him initiating a display of affection. Whenever he showed his softer side, Cora was grateful, and Robert thought she shouldn't have to be. She deserved all the affection and loving in the world. She should never think otherwise. Her conscious gratitude showed that it wasn't self-evident. He squeezed her hand to ban any uncertainty at least for this moment. He hoped he would be able to continue being worthy for her overflowing love and, God, her radiant, seraphic self.
Cora pulled him through hedges here and onto tight paths there, and then they reached a tiny pond. It was a pond Robert regularly forgot existed. It wasn't exactly spectacular. Only one single fish of the prior population the gardener had placed there had survived. It was a plump and ponderous companion. Its greenish-grey scales seemed dull at day. Now Cora approached the small body of water until her shins touched the edge of the pond so that she could kneel on it if she wanted to.
"Look at him, Robert," she whispered. They were silent for a while. Only the gentle sounds of the wind caressed their ears. "That is his hour. It's his time to shine." She pointed to the fish as if he was a long-known fellow, as if she knew him. And the fish really shone. Like a magical creature, it made its sluggish rounds in the circular pond. It reflected the shimmering light at least as much as the slightly moved surface of the cold water. It was impressive but it was not for long Robert's focus.
"No," he replied lowly. "It's yours. Your time to shine. You're radiant, Cora."
"Robert," she breathed. Her eyes flickered over his face. Her cheeks darkened a little, as much as Robert could tell. "Something has gotten into you tonight."
"I blame it on you." His thumb caressed the back of her hand. "You're charming me tonight with your spell."
Cora chuckled. She shook her head in adoration. "I hope it isn't only for tonight," she teased.
"No, it's not," he said, and his free hand encircled her waist. "This spell has been over me for a very long time you have to know," he explained.
"I see," she nodded conspiratorially. One of her hands came to rest on the row of buttons on his upper chest. "If Carson gave you something special for a drink tonight, I'll ask him to do it more often in the future." Cora tipped her head to the side, and Robert could watch the long expanse of her neck exposed to the smooth light. Slowly he moved his head forward.
"That won't be necessary. I have no doubt I'll stay intoxicated long enough…" he whispered against the sensitive skin of her neck. His lips slowly descended onto the warm skin. He gave it a very light kiss before he exerted the ever so gentle suck on her skin. "… if you allow me to drink the alluring scent of your skin, my darling." Cora sighed and closed her eyes. This was answer enough for Robert. He buried his face in the crook of her neck. He started planting a few kisses there but soon he found himself just breathing in her sweet warmth. Their joined hands were pressed between their bodies, Cora's other hand hold onto Robert's dress shirt and her head rested against his temple. The couple took their time relishing their nearness. And Robert didn't exactly feel like doing more. Not out here in the light of the observant celestial body above them. In the warmth of her room, Robert could show Cora more of his affection, other aspects of it. But now their close embrace was enough.
A low splash reminded them of the presence of the fish and of their surroundings.
"I don't want it to be over," Cora whispered as quietly as the wind. Robert could only catch her words because his head was just beside her lips.
"Shh," he tried to soothe her.
Even if this moment of pure magic was momentary – it had been their young years that had consisted of so much of this magic – and if tomorrow the daily life with its struggles and triviality would return, this moment right now would be relished fully. Robert felt that it wasn't a temporary glare, it was real magic. He just had to look at Cora to know.