This prompt is set in series 3 episode 7. Parts of the dialogue are original lines from the show, so they belong to Julian Fellowes. Please review!

Purple – Spirituality

The lightness of the day was only hesitantly accepted by the Crawley family. The Crawley family and the Bransons. Tom and little Sybbie. Well, and Tom's brother but he was more present in the whole occurrence than the Crawleys wished for.

It was the day of the christening, and they had gone a long way to perform it this concordantly now. The baby was christened after the first period of mourning. The guests of the catholic event were allowed to wear colours. The men still wore their black suits, and Mama opted for her all-black attire as well. If she was mourning the confession that marked this whole event and claimed her only great-grandchild or really still the premature death of her youngest granddaughter though stayed a mystery.

Cora and her two daughters (it hurt so much to say it like that and Cora felt horrible every time she had to accept once again that for the world outside, she had only two children now) wore costumes of different shades of lilac. They were truly beautiful dresses and it was the first time since the horror of a night that had been little Sybbie's birth that Cora had deliberately chosen something charming to wear. She felt good and she felt like she was allowed to (maybe even deserved to) feel good. Sybil would want her to enjoy the day of the christening of her baby's baby. She would smile about the fact that it was like a déjà vu to Mary's wedding. Cora had been wearing nearly the same lilac look back then (it had been made for Mary's wedding), and Sybil would love her child's christening to be an event just as joyful.

Even if the day was slightly tense due to the multitude of people's believes and goals, and even if this tension was veiled with forced amicability, Cora was at ease. Most of all though, she sensed that she was more at peace with everyone and everything around her – with life and its cruel acts – than she had been for months. She was at peace for a simple fact that helped her fall asleep later that day as she realised it.

The family had been driven to the church in nearly complete silence. A few words were exchanged here and there, and they held more excited anticipation than Cora had hoped for. She had been utterly relieved first when Robert had accepted the circumstances for Sybbie's christening without a bigger fuss, and second, when she had got him into the motor without a conflict between him and Mr Branson, Tom's brother, ensuing until then. Everyone wanted today's day to be a happy and successful day but one couldn't be quite sure with the potential for conflict that smouldered within the heterogeneous group.

With her husband by her side, Cora looked forward to the ceremony itself. She knew it was what Sybil had wanted because it was what Tom wanted. So, Cora wanted to make sure things happened that way. She held onto Robert's hand as the motor juddered over the gravel. He threw her a short glance before both directed their gazes out the car windows again. He looked a little strained. Cora knew it irritated him that he didn't know what exactly they had to expect from the catholic christening ceremony, and even though, the entire event was no big deal for her she tried to understand what made it so hard for him. It wasn't proper for an Earl's granddaughter she knew. But she didn't care for that enough to seriously waste her thoughts on that. She hoped, showing Robert how she was able to enjoy the day for her daughters' and granddaughter's sake would help him too. She covered their locked hands with her second one and gently rubbed his knuckles and the back of his hand. She turned around and searched his face for anything other than mere tension.

"I am very grateful that this day could be realised like this," she said softly.

Robert furrowed his brow. "I don't know if making Sybil's daughter a catholic is the best start for her life we could give her," he grumbled but without real conviction. He argued because it wasn't fully his choice to set the day the way it was not because he really wanted to change something about it.

"You know that the best start for Sybbie's life we could give her is a warm welcome into a loving family. With supporting her father, and even if this might be in first choices we don't entirely agree with, we're building the foundation for the love Sybil's daughter deserves." Cora's vivid eyes had locked with his and their expression altered from imploring sincerity to soft fondness.

Robert squeezed his wife's hand and his eyes swept over her face as he managed a tight-lipped smile. He then turned his gaze back outside.

"I just want it to be over already," he mumbled.

"I know."

The ceremony was even less of a deal than Cora had expected. Tom who mostly looked very strained and ruminative lately, and especially today, even had moments of blessed smiles. When Mary as the godmother got to hold the baby, Cora was at least as blissful as Tom. She thought Tom had made a good choice with Mary, and there had to be something about his brother Kieran that made him a reasonable choice as well.

Robert sat next to her, kneading his hands with an otherwise calm demeanour. It would be easier afterwards she silently agreed with him. Robert could see Sybbie just as Sybbie then, apart from everything that might separate grandfather and grandchild elsewise.

The moment they left the church they were greeted by inviting light weather. The guests of the christening were in a slightly more frolic mood, and chatter arose here and there before the photographer ordered them to get into place for the pictures that would be taken.

"If you could all form a group around the father," the photographer said.

Mary, who had still been carrying the baby, handed Sybbie cautiously to Tom.

"Here she is," Cora cooed. The little girl was really a delight, and Cora enjoyed that Mary took to the baby as well. She hadn't been sure if it would be like that.

Mary, Cora, and Edith now stood at the side of the group next to each other. They must make quite the picture in their flowing lilac dresses.

"It seems so strange without Sybil here," Edith mentioned in a light thoughtfulness.

Cora watched into the distance but she saw something else. Her daughters' thoughts were wandering back to the present scenery meanwhile. Everyone was gathering more closely around Tom and the baby.

"She's watching," Cora said. "I know," her words were spoken in calm certainty. Her eyes were glued to some point faraway. As if she had eye contact with Sybil standing behind the stone wall surrounding the church and its graveyard. Cora didn't have to look out for her, and she wasn't surprised to find her there. It was as if she had agreed upon it with Sybil beforehand. Sybil would be there, and Cora just reassured herself of that after Edith's comment.

"I envy you. I wish I did," Mary responded. Her voice was downcast, her tone little hopeful. Cora's heart was warm with pictures from Sybil. She was vindicated in her faith that Sybil would still somehow guide the ways of her dearest ones. She looked over her daughter's christening as she had an eye on all the moves of the family that needed a little more courage. The courage she always had. Sybil's spirit wasn't lost. She had provoked them to be better humans and her spirit that accompanied them would continue to do so.

A little part of Cora wished she had realised it before today. It maybe would have made things a bit easier to bear. It might have avoided how deep the rift between Robert and her had become. But they made it. And probably Cora would grieve just the same, no matter the circumstances. How much more bearable would a little more faith have made it truly? It was no use. What was left of Sybil was the little family she had left behind. Cora vowed once more that they had to cherish them. The little family and her blessed spirit.

When the picture was taken, Cora didn't look at the camera. Her gaze was still set on that point afar. For a fleeting moment, after the flash had lit up, a light figure began wandering outside the wall of the cemetery. The purple coat and hat her dear daughter's figure was dressed in were exact copies of Cora's own garments. With a smile, Sybil turned away from the church and slowly wandered into the distance on the path behind the wall. Her vision faded after a few seconds, a little bit later than the imprints of the camera flash on her retina. But Cora tried her best to imprint the last smile of her daughter on her mind for years to live off.

Cora's days got easier with the christening, little by little. After having Robert back at her side, there was something else now that helped her immensely. Cuddling up beside her husband at night, she realised what it was. Her eyes fell shut with a small sentimental smile grazing her features.

She was at peace because her dear girl was with her.

Sybil was with her.