AN: I think everyone is in shock that Carson allowed Emma to serve dinner. But ultimately, Mrs. Hughes had given her permission. However, all of this will be addressed again because it's not really common for a child to live among the staff... so stay tuned, because eventually Mr. Carson will be very furious at (with the kid) the end of season 2.

Otherwise, I'm trying to build relationships step by step. Especially the relationship between Emma and Thomas. It shouldn't be forgotten that they haven't seen each other for two years. They practically need to get to know each other again.

"Would you come if I manage to do it?" O´Brien asked.

Thomas smiled as he exhaled the smoke from his lungs, watching the little girl beside the maid. Impatiently, she shifted her weight from one leg to the other, eagerly looking towards the village square where the other children were playing.

"Why not? It's a nice thought, giving Carson some order," Thomas replied with a grin, turning his attention back to the maid. He flicked his cigarette to the ground and stepped on it. While Clarkson allowed a smoking break, it was coming to an end, especially since the doctor was observing them in the background.

"Then it's settled," O'Brien said happily, gently pushing the girl forward, feeling the pressure of time as well, "Say goodbye to your father. We still have some errands to run."

Emma glanced briefly at the nasty maid. She didn't understand why Mrs. Hughes allowed O'Brien to take her to the village. Was it because the maid claimed they were going to visit her father? After all, she had been talking to him the whole time while Emma wasn't allowed to exchange a single word. Thomas leaned down slightly, and the child kissed his cheek, "Bye, Daddy," she smiled cutely, doing exactly what the adults expected of her. However, Thomas held onto her sleeve. "You know, you can ask Mrs. O'Brien if you can go and play," he said gently. Emma shook her head timidly, having learned early on to keep her communication and requests regarding O'Brien to a minimum. Thomas straightened up, and O'Brien lightly pushed the child forward onto the street.

"O'Brien," he interrupted her, "Let Emma play with the other children." Emma gave her father a small grateful smile, which quickly disappeared as O'Brien pushed her forward once again. "I'm sorry, but I don't have the whole day to supervise the brat," O'Brien snapped.

At the same time, Dr. Clarkson's voice could be heard in the distance, calling for Corporal Barrow.

"Please tell Mrs. Hughes that I'll spent the day with my daughter. I'll bring her back in the evening."

As if O'Brien had been waiting for this suggestion, she nodded in agreement, "Very well, as you wish," and left the Barrows.

Emma watched O'Brien walk away before turning her gaze to Thomas. "Go and play. You have all day. If there's any problem, you know where to find me. Otherwise, I'll pick you up after my work."

Playing outside all day? She had never had such a day before. Especially not with the children from the village. She was even more excited to be able to play with them for hours. Not once did she seek out her dad. She wanted to show him that she was a big girl now and could spend a few hours alone if it meant she could play with the other children more often.

Thomas picked her up as he promised after his work. He held the smoldering cigarette to his mouth. The children were still playing, even though the church bells had rung, and most families would be wanting to have their dinner any moment. A boy, armed with a wooden stick, threatened another boy. Undoubtedly, it was a game of war. Had the children been playing war earlier as well? If so, Thomas would have preferred to have sent his child with O'Brien, as the last thing he wanted was for Emma to think that war was harmless and fun.

"Emma!" he called out. The girl immediately listened and hurried to her dad. Thomas reached for her hand to lead her home.

"How was your afternoon?" Thomas asked.

"It was great! Arthur, Daphne, Brian, Phoebe, and I were in the British Army, just like you. And we won the war. We shot the others..." Thomas abruptly cut off his child, turning her so that her face was directly facing him. "Don't say that. War is not funny, Emma," he lectured his daughter. "Yes, it's true. I'm part of the British Army like almost every other man in this country because we are at war," he paused briefly and studied his little daughter's bewildered face. "But that doesn't mean I approve of you playing war. It's a very serious matter. There are many children who will never see their fathers again, do you understand?"

"Uh-huh," Emma nodded.

"I want to hear that you understand it," he persisted.

"But I don't understand. You were in the war too, and you came back. I just wanted to do the same as you..."

Thomas took a deep breath. He crouched down to be at eye level with Emma. With his uninjured hand, he gently stroked her cheek. "Don't do it. You deserve a carefree childhood," he said empathetically.

"I just wanted to make you proud," Emma murmured, disappointed.

"Not like this, Emma Grace. I don't know what you've learned about the war, but it's not nice on the front lines. Nobody knows if they'll ever come home again. If they'll ever see their family – their child – again. That's why I don't want you to play down the war."

"I don't understand all of this," Emma admitted softly.

"It's okay. When you're older, you'll understand better," Thomas said and stood up. He looked towards the Grantham Arms. "Shall we go out to eat?" he changed the subject. Emma nodded silently, and he led her into the pub.

Emma played with the beer coasters, building a small card house while Thomas had his dinner. Every now and then, he would share some of his food with his child. He had actually intended to order her a meal as well, but she declined, saying she wasn't hungry anymore.

"So, you've made friends, huh?" Thomas asked.

"Arthur is my age. He's starting school next year too," Emma replied.

"That's good. Then you already know someone," Thomas said optimistically.

He couldn't shake the feeling that something was troubling Emma. She hardly looked at him, her gaze fixed on her hands and the construction of the cardhouse. "I'm currently looking for a beautiful home for the two of us," he smiled.

Emma looked at him with surprise. "But I already have a home," Emma whispered. Her voice trembled slightly as she hid her dissatisfaction.

"It has always been planned that I would eventually bring you to live with me. You could have your own room, no more Mr. Carson or Mrs. Hughes bossing you around," Thomas listed some advantages, "Wouldn't that be wonderful? Just the two of us."

"Great," Emma smiled uneasily. She didn't want to leave Downton Abbey, her familiar surroundings, and the people she considered family. But her father saw it differently. He was looking forward to moving with her to a new home. And she didn't want to take that joy away from him. Emma's gaze returned to the cardhouse. She was hoping that whatever O'Brien and Thomas had talked about in the morning, he would accept the job at the Abbey and come back home instead of finding a new place to live.

"Penny for your thoughts?", Thomas asked.

Emma shook her head.

"I can tell something's bothering you," Thomas spoke between bites. However, Emma didn't respond to his statement, "You know, you can talk to me about anything, okay? I'm here, and I'll listen to you," he reassured her.

Emma reached for the next beer coaster. From the single-family house, she now built a row of townhouses. Thomas sighed. The child didn't pay him attention.

"You're not in a chatty mood, huh?" he noted. He prodded the potato with his fork. "At least eat a little bit."

Emma shook her head. "Not hungry," she informed him.

"You have to eat something, or I'll get in trouble with Mrs. Patmore," Thomas chuckled.

"I don't care."

"What?" Thomas exclaimed in dismay. "Surely you don't want your daddy to get in trouble, do you?" Emma sighed. She took a small bite before building another card house.

"You can build another floor," Thomas remarked as he looked at the four card houses.

"How?"

Thomas took the card from her hands and carefully placed it between two houses. "As you go up, you build one less house until eventually there's just one house at the top." Emma nodded silently. She discreetly stole another potato before expanding her card house. However, the card house collapsed on the third floor, "I want to go home," the girl demanded.

"You're tired, aren't you? It's been a long day, after all." Emma shook her head.

In fact, Emma didn't have the strength to make it back home. So Thomas scooped her up in his arms and carried his sleeping child. Anna was already waiting for them in the servants hall.

"She fell asleep on the way," Thomas said softly. "Where should I put her?"

Anna led him to the ladies' corridor. In the end, the maid shared a room with the young girl. Thomas didn't even have to ask which of the two beds belonged to Emma, as her stuffed animal lay on the pillow. He gently placed her in the bed.

"Should I take off her shoes or put on her nightgown? Maybe we should wake her up?" Thomas asked, a bit uncertain.

"I'll take care of it," Anna reassured him.

"I can do it too. It's only temporary. I'm looking for a suitable place so I can take Emma with me," he informed her. He didn't understand why he was telling her this. Emma was his child, and if he wanted to bring his child with him, he certainly didn't need the maid's permission.

"Emma can stay as long as you want. I don't mind sharing my room with her," Anna assured him.

Thomas looked down at his daughter. "Are you sure I shouldn't help?"

"Go home, Thomas. I'll take care of Emma. She's in good hands with me."

Thomas nodded and dedicated one last moment to his daughter. Emma was still sleeping peacefully. He stroked her cheek with his hand, "Goodnight, my little dwarf."

Once Thomas was gone, Anna took care of the little girl. She gently removed her shoes, then her jacket, dress, and tights. As she put the nightgown on the child, Emma woke up.

"I'm here," Anna spoke softly, tucking the blanket around her. "Did you have a nice afternoon?" Anna asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. She noticed the troubled expression on the young girl's face. Had there been an incident that Thomas didn't mention? On the other hand, the man didn't owe her any explanations. After all, Emma was his child.

"I don't understand," Emma murmured sleepily.

"What don't you understand?" Anna asked, lovingly stroking her hair.

"War."

"I think even adults don't understand it," Anna took the small hand in hers. "Is there anything else on your mind?" Emma shook her head wearily.