#Mary x Matthew

[autumnrose11]

The way he looks at her! And that SMIRK... *sigh*

[dogzcats]

[agrippinaes]

period drama appreciation week 2024 | day 4: favourite relationship

matthew and mary from downton abbey it's because of something tom said - that i would never be happy with anyone else, as long as you walked the earth, which is true...and i think you feel the same about me.

[femininomen0n]

mary and matthew are to elizabeth and darcy as marian and larry are to jane and bingley

[byeletty]

when Mary says Alfred's nice but he does look like a puppy who's been rescued from a puddle and Matthew is just so amused by his wife and then they laugh together after Carson leaves the room?? WE DESERVED SO MUCH MORE OF THAT

[autumnrose11]

So in my head, this is what Matthew and Mary’s daughter looks like.

This is how I envision Catherine Mary Crawley, my OC. She’s got a good combination of both parents - her mother’s hair and her father’s eyes. For reference, here is a picture of Matthew so we can compare them:

Their eyes are more or less the same shade. Their teeth look kind of similar, and so do their expressions... She resembles him a little bit in the way she smiles. And of course, she has Mary’s porcelain skin and glossy dark hair.

How do you guys like my fancasting? ;)

[forsuperbang]

Matthew : I should jump into the nearest river.

Mary : And how would you manage that without my help?

Matthew : Well, I'd get you to push me in.

Great exchange, it's so cute.

[tresapes]

Short Mary & Matthew ficlet #4

Prompt: Matthew recognises how much Mary supported him during his injury (with a lot some pushing from Isobel)

This one is Long. It took him a while.

Isobel was standing by the window in the library, a cup of tea in her hands, watching Matthew and Lavinia in the gardens below. Lavinia's mouth was forming words, gesturing excitedly, but Matthew was still and silent. He turned his face up towards the sky, and closed his eyes when Lavinia was looking the other way.

It was a sunny day. Maybe the sun would do him good. Shine through the shadows in his mind.

She felt someone stand next to her, and turned to see Mary with her own cup, looking out at the scene below. She found Mary to be a hard person, when she first met her. Now she knew the only thing hard about the young woman was the shell around her heart. It only made her wonder how much she hurt, how many wounds the world had inflicted on her before she shut herself away from it.

------------------------------------------

"Why don't I ask Carson to get us some sandwiches? You didn't eat much at lunch, did you not like it?"

"It was perfectly pleasant."

Lavinia frowned, but seemed to come to a quick decision. "Well. I'll ring for the sandwiches all the same."

Matthew didn't reply.

Carson was very prompt.

Cheese crackers with orange mascarpone and cucumber salmon squares. Matthew bit into one impassively. Lavinia looked on encouragingly.

Isobel frowned. He always preferred a sweet scone with afternoon tea. Maybe he preferred something lighter now.

He wasn't going anywhere after all, where would all that sugar go. The bitter thought hit her like a punch in the stomach and she had to ask to be excused.

Matthew didn't return her kiss goodbye.

------------------------------------

"How was he today? I was needed at the hospital, and only got back a few hours ago." Isobel was bone weary and not just from the long day. Watching her child turn into a shadow of himself really took it out of her, it seemed.

"Oh, much the same. We got to take a turn in the gardens but-"

Isobel noticed the girl frown. Oh, maybe, maybe he finally talked to her. "What is it?"

Lavinia shook her head "I think I made Mary rather cross with me."

"Goodness. What happened?"

"I didn't think, I got Matthew a blanket for the cold. But it had snowed and the blanket was long and- he wouldn't know."

Isobel frowned. No. No he wouldn't know if his legs were wet and frozen. Her hands tightened on her cup and she had to leave it back on the tray, her fingers tightening on her lap under the table.

"How was Matthew, was he upset?"

Lavinia smiled then "No! Not at all. He was kind, he didn't say anything, even though it was so stupid of me. I'll know better next time."

Isobel smiled kindly to the girl, even as her heart was breaking for her son. They'd won the war, but he certainly came back from it defeated.

"I'm sure you will, my dear."

Lavinia was still biting her lower lip "I think Mary was really upset."

Isobel didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Certainly, Mary Crawley would be upset. Her attentiveness and skill when she'd been taking care of Matthew would have been the envy of an army hospital.

Molesley came in to take the tea trays, and Isobel offered her future daughter-in-law another smile. "I shouldn't worry too much. I'm sure Mary… kept it all under control. And she forgives. She might bite, but she forgives. Too much like her grandmother, that girl."

She got a laugh out of Lavinia with that comment, and the girl seemed to relax.

Isobel didn't want to but the image came to her mind anyway. Mary with that fury of the Crawley line swirling in her eyes in that contained way of hers, as she took in Matthew's shoulders hunched in shame, Lavinia fumbling with the blanket, a stream of apologies as she waited for a footman to come and sort it out.

Isobel was lost in thought and didn't realise Lavinia was speaking again "… she didn't stay. I don't know if it was because I made her angry or… I think seeing Matthew like that might be upsetting for her. She's always so polite, but she never stays long if we're in a room."

Isobel nodded, absentmindedly. No. Mary wouldn't stand by and watch any of that.

------------------------------------

"I was reading that."

"Well, you took too long, now I'm reading it."

"You must be joking?"

"You can't just monopolise the latest Montgomery, Matthew. Seven years would be insufficient to make some people acquainted with each other and you seem to need as much to make friends with Anne of Green Gables. It might just be that you don't like each other."

Isobel watched from over her needlework. Matthew seemed put out, but his shoulders were relaxed. His index finger lightly tapping the arm of his chair. Like he was thinking.

"Are you friends with her then? Were seven days sufficient for you two?"

Mary lifted an imperious brow, and pointedly turned the page of the book she was holding. "Of a kind. I was a bit too old for it when the first one came out. But Sybil loved them and made me read the whole book to her."

"And now?"

Mary shrugged "It's rude not to greet an old friend when they visit."

Matthew chuckled and Isobel looked up at the sound, her heart pounding, only to see him turn his face down, and cover his eyes with his hand, rubbing his forehead. Tired. She watched Mary also sneak peaks at him from over her book, her dark eyes reading him more than the words on the page. She hid herself behind the book again, before she spoke:

"I can read it to you, if you'd like."

Matthew looked up, peeved. "I'm not a child."

She turned her eyes back to him, the imperious look back. "Of course not. But we must find some compromise, I'm not just handing this over you know."

"God forbid."

Isobel watched as they stared at each other. Matthew's finger was still tapping the arm of his chair.

"How about… I read it to you?"

Mary smirked, and offered him the book. Matthew smiled as he opened it, and Isobel could cry. He turned to the first page-

--------------------------------------------

"How nice, that I finally get you to myself. A rare gift these days!"

Matthew offered her a small smile, and Isobel could live with that.

"Where are they all anyway?" she asked him, trying to engage him in some conversation as she took a sip of her tea.

"Robert has a meeting with the tenants. Edith and Sybil are in Ripon. You know of course Lavinia's gone to London to sort out some errands for Reggie."

Isobel nodded. Of course she knew that. The girl stayed with her after all. "And Mary?"

Matthew looked out the window. They had a lot of rain after days of snow, and the mud was making it very hard for him to go anywhere. Not that he seemed to mind, even if he wouldn't look at her now, a frown on his face as he watched the world outside. "She's over at Haxby. Richard came around he probably… added one horrid thing or other to the place that he wanted to share with her."

Isobel tried to move past the tone of bitterness in his voice, as much as it hurt her to do so. God knew which of all the things mentioned would be making him bitter. She placed her cup back on its saucer. She'd have to drag it out of him, whatever it was, because he wasn't willingly sharing the things that hurt him with her. Not anymore. "She must be somewhat excited, to see the place she'll call home come to life." she pushed on.

"Downton will always be Mary's home."

The answer was immediate. And final.

Isobel wished she could give her son a nice shake. "Of course. But she'll live there, what does she say, what's it like?"

"Big."

She waited, expecting some explanation.

Matthew gave a short laugh then, and turned to her, lifting his eyebrow in perfect imitation of Mary "Really. It's just big."

Isobel watched as he chuckled to himself, his eyes lost in memory.

Goodness. It was perhaps, more complicated than she thought.

-----------------------------------------------

Isobel wept the night she saw her son standing on his own two feet again. She got home, and kneeled next to her bed, and thanked God in prayer like she hadn't done since she had been a little girl. Her son. Her boy would get his life back.

It had been a few weeks since then. Matthew hadn't moved back home yet but it was only a matter of time. Isobel visited every day, even though it was a flurry of activity there, and the kind of activity that tended to be tiresome.

Some of it was inescapable, like the wedding preparations, but then a maid was hired, or one of the old footmen wouldn't leave and there was a baby in the dining room but nobody seemed to know how he got there or what to do about it, and Isobel couldn't wait to get back to the village where people had normal problems.

She had thought, now that Matthew's whole life was ahead of him once again, and his brooding moods had returned, so would his assertiveness and confidence.

Instead he was often lost in thought, plastering on a smile when he caught someone watching him. More alarming still, he was quite withdrawn as they sat in the drawing room, to discuss some wedding plans, putting on that same smile whenever Lavinia or anyone else asked a question, but always answering with some variation of "Whatever you think is best, I truly don't mind."

Isobel listened to the girl, and made as many contributions as she could, along with Cora and Edith, who had been taking tea with them and discussing plans, Lavinia's excitement being quite nice to see.

They were talking about flower arrangements when she turned to Cora "Do you think Mary could help me pick the bouquets for the bridesmaids? I'm not sure which flowers to choose from, and she knew quite a lot about them when we walked about the garden a few times."

Cora looked lost for words for a moment "Oh… perhaps, why don't you ask her? I know she's got a lot on now, with Haxby, and her own wedding to plan-"

"Plus Mary won't lift a finger for things that don't involve her - like someone else's wedding" added Edith.

Isobel heard Cora's tut at the comment, but she felt a strong, almost maternal, urge to defend the girl. "Well. I for one am incredibly grateful to her, for how she cared for Matthew when he first came back, and I wasn't here to look after him. Even though it didn't involve her."

She watched Lavinia's puzzled expression, and wanted to tut at her own son who was focusing on staring at the carpet, his face pale.

"Did Mary really look after you, back then?" Lavinia asked, very kindly.

Matthew tightened his hand on his walking stick, and swallowed visibly, all the women staring at him intently. Eventually he shook his head a rough smirk on his face, his eyes troubled "You know Mary. She won't miss a chance to push someone around."

He got a chuckle out of Edith for that comment, and Isobel was about to reprimand him when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye, and looked up to see Mary standing at the other end of the room, having walked through the open door, unobserved.

Isobel's hands tightened on her tea cup as Cora greeted her eldest daughter, who was walking towards them, handbag still clutched in her hands in front of her stomach, like a physical shield.

Isobel saw whatever colour was on Matthew's face leave it as he whipped his head around to stare at the object of their conversation.

Mary spoke before anyone could utter another word "Please. Don't let me disturb you I just wanted to say hello. I'm quite dusty from the trip, I think I should like to change."

Cora nodded, eagerly agreeing "Why don't you ask Anna to run you a bath darling? It's been a long day."

"Yes, I think I shall."

Isobel saw her look at Matthew, very fleetingly, before she steeled her spine and turned, walking out of the room through the same door.

Isobel did not need to wonder why Matthew didn't speak another word for the rest of the visit.

-------------------------------------------

Matthew's foul mood persisted. For days. He'd finally moved back to Crawley House, but it didn't make any difference.

Isobel watched him stew in his misery and for once, she let him stew. He deserved it. Mary was being perfectly polite at dinners and visits. But Isobel doubted he managed to have even a moment alone with her. Maybe he finally realised that Mary Crawley did not just spend hours on end keeping a man company to lift his spirits because she had nothing better to do.

Lavinia had gone up to London for some wedding shopping, and Isobel was having breakfast with her son, as normal, for the first time in almost a year. It would have been perfect if he hadn't spent most of his time huffing behind his newspaper.

"You could just apologise, you know."

"Mother…"

"Don't "mother" me. I'm tired of your moping. Surely you can give the woman an apology, it can't be that hard. She's your friend-"

This time, a pained laughter came from behind the newspaper, and Isobel looked up. Matthew dropped the newspaper and got up, grabbing his walking stick and pacing to the window.

"If I start apologising to Mary I shall be at it for days."

"Why is that?"

"Please, mother, stop pushing. You wouldn't understand."

"Won't I? Might it have anything to do with your distinct lack of enthusiasm for your own wedding?"

Matthew turned to her, a frightened expression on his face.

"Or might it have to do with the amount of care Mary showed you, above and beyond that of even a dedicated nurse? Washing you, with Sybil. Sitting by your bedside throughout your stay at the hospital. Being there through your examinations. Being the one to break the news of you injury, of William's death. You think Dr Clarkson wouldn't give me all the details of your stay? That I wouldn't ask?"

She watched him pace in misery, and she let him wallow as she continued "… Or do you think I'd forget finding her cleaning your vomit and telling you everything would be alright? Perhaps you thought that was normal behaviour for a distant relation, I'm surprised you didn't expect Edith or Cora to do the same."

"Stop. Enough. I know this, of course I know."

"Good. Then maybe go and tell her why you told none of this to Lavinia. Or why you told Lavinia nothing of your retracted proposal to Mary, all those years ago, something that should be old history by now, shouldn't it? Instead letting Lavinia expect the poor woman to help plan your wedding."

Matthew shook his head "I wouldn't- I didn't expect-"

Isobel didn't let him misdirect her "… Or perhaps you'd like to not talk about Mary, and focus on you a little more."

Matthew covered his face with one hand, but Isobel had had enough. "Lets talk about why you only felt safe to take out your anger on Mary, and be so beastly to her, because Mary will forgive you anything, won't she? And she will put up with the moods you won't share with Lavinia. Lavinia who you will let mother you more than you've ever allowed anyone, even me, since you left the nursery. And I don't know if that should make me worry, or make me happy- that you'd allow that kind of care."

Her son's face was stricken. Isobel persisted. "But I do worry. Because it's not Lavinia that you can laugh with. Or laugh for. Even in your darkest moments. Is it? And I know you normally like an argument, my boy. So tell me. What are you doing?"

She could see his eyes flood with tears, and it broke her heart all over again. "I'm just trying to do the right thing, mother. That's all I ever wanted to do."

Isobel nodded. She knew this already. "But what is the right thing to do in this situation, Matthew?"

He shook his head, and dropped back on the chair heavily. "I'll go to the Abbey after breakfast. I'll apologise."

Isobel let out a breath. It was a start.

-----------------------------------------

He did go to the Abbey after breakfast. But he didn't apologise.

Isobel watched him find the courage to talk every morning, and then come back empty handed. Either saying that Mary was out, or nothing at all, just shutting himself in the library and not coming out until dinner.

She had to go to the Abbey herself a few days later, hoping to discuss some hospital matters with Cora. Carson informed her that lady Grantham was visiting the dowager countess, but she'd be back soon, so Isobel found herself sat in the library, with a cup of tea, when she heard footsteps behind her.

"… time to stop harassing Carson, I doubt there's anything that significant you wish to speak to me about."

"Stop punishing me Mary, you know there is."

Isobel found herself frozen still. They hadn't seen her, the back of the armchair covering her perfectly. If she made herself known it was possible that they would postpone the conversation to the next century. But if they saw her later… Isobel decided it was a risk she was willing to take.

"Fine. Tell me now, what is it."

Isobel heard her son huff, and could practically picture the annoyance mixing with guilt in his expression "I want to apologise. For what you overheard. It wasn't true."

"I know. It's fine. There's no need for you to apologise."

"It's not fine! Mary-"

"I didn't do anything expecting thanks, Matthew. I don't care what anyone thinks about it. Including you. All I wanted was for you to get better, and you did, so stop with your moping."

Mary sounded tired. Incredibly so. Isobel frowned, and wondered for a moment if she had anyone in her corner. Isobel had finally managed to get through to Matthew, to try and help him untangle his life. She thought of Mary and Sir Richard, and wondered.

Matthew might have seen the same weariness, because he spoke more calmly "I'm still sorry for what I said. You didn't deserve it."

"Fine. Apology accepted. Happy now?"

"…happi-er. Does that count?"

Isobel heard Mary chuckle "I'm the wrong person to ask."

Cora's voice came in through the hall then, and they seemed to find themselves out of time, walking out to greet her.

Isobel quickly picked up her cup and moved across the room, going through the door to the small library. If Carson found her transfer strange as he led Cora to her a moment later, he didn't mention anything about it.

---------------------------------------

"So. Did you make things right?"

Matthew looked up from his book as she walked into the drawing room at Crawley House that evening. Her talk with Cora took longer than expected.

"It's not like you to gossip this much mother."

"I don't think of my care for your wellbeing as gossip."

Matthew looked at her, shaking his head and rolling his eyes before he turned back to his book without another word.

Well. That was an improvement. "Any words of wisdom from your readings?" She said, dropping the topic for now as she took a seat across from him. He was healthy, and he was here. Everything else would sort itself out.

Matthew didn't miss a beat, turning a page and offering a quote "My life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes."

Oh dear. There was so much more work to be done.

[spontaniousmusicalnumbers]

Downton Ficlet #3

“You must be careful not to break Sybil’s heart. I think she has a crush on you,” Mary said fixing Matthew with a piercing stare as they sat in the dining room eating the sandwiches Mrs. Patmore had prepared.

“Well, that’s something no one would accuse you of,” he said putting down his glass.

“Oh, I don’t know….” He noticed her hand go directly to the necklace she was wearing. She always did that when she was anxious or uncomfortable. He wondered what she could be anxious about now. 

“I assume you speak in the spirit of mockery.”

“You should have more faith!” She said, sounding a little surprised. Matthew wasn’t sure what type of game she could be playing, but he wasn’t going to let her get away with it.

He leaned in closer to her. “Shall I remind you of some of the choicest remarks you made about me when I first came here?” She glanced down, looking almost ashamed. He repositioned so that he could regain eye contact with her, “because they live in my memory as fresh as the day they were spoken.”

“Oh, Matthew,” she smiled and shook her head, ever so slightly, still fiddling with her necklace, “what am I always telling you? You must pay no attention to the things I say.”

They stared at each other for the briefest moment, before coming together in a passionate kiss. Matthew felt Mary’s hand go almost immediately to his neck; soon her fingers were inching their way into his hair, her thumb gently caressing his cheek. His hands automatically went to her, one on her waist and the other to her cheek, his fingers brushing against her hair. She shifted in her chair, moving closer to him. He tightened his grip on her waist and felt her lean into him, encouraging him. Her other hand gripped the lapel of his jacket. His mind raced with need for her, all other thoughts completely abandoning him. He could feel his fingers tingling with excitement where they touched her bare skin. It was so soft and smooth; he’d never felt anything like it before. The only other time they had touched, she’d been wearing her evening gloves. He had felt exhilarated then, but it was nothing compared to this.

He had lost all sense of time. Had they been kissing for seconds or for an eternity? All he knew was that this was right. He needed to know that he could kiss her like this any time he wanted. He wasn’t aware of deciding to say anything when he heard the words “marry me” escape him. It wasn’t a question; he’d said it as a fact. He wanted her, no, needed her, to marry him. She felt him laugh slightly against him. He pulled away and fixed her with the most poignant look he could muster. “I’m serious, Mary. Marry me.”

“Are you sure, Matthew?” she asked. She looked at him significantly. What was behind that look, he wondered. It wasn’t shock, exactly. It almost looked sad.

“Yes, I’m very sure,” he said. He leaned in again to kiss her, willing her to be convinced.

“I…” she trailed off as he kissed her neck. “I’ll have to think about it.” Her words brought reality crashing down around him. He pulled away again and looked at her, a hurt expression on his face. “It’s not that I don’t care for you!” she said, trying to reassure him. “It’s just…you know how much marriage will affect me. I just need to make sure that I make the right choice, for the right reasons.”

“I don’t think I can begrudge you wanting to be sure you choose me for the right reasons,” he said smiling. “Do you suppose I could kiss you again?”

“Yes, but then I think we should let the maids in here to tidy.” He kissed her again and then reluctantly let her guide him back to the front door.

* * *

“Did Sybil get settled alright?” Isobel asked him, coming out of the drawing room at the sound of the door opening.

“Sybil?” He frowned, placing his hat and gloves on the hall table. “What about Sybil?”

“Matthew!” Isobel chided him. “She was injured, and you took her home. Did she get settled alright?”

“Oh, yes,” he said, suddenly remembering. “Yes, Robert was furious, of course.”

“I’m not surprised,” she looked at him frowning. “Are you alright? You look off. Have you had anything to eat tonight?”

The question took him by surprise and made him smile involuntarily as he remembered his quiet meal. “Yes, Mary had them make some sandwiches.”

“That was very good of her.” Isobel seemed contented with his answer. “Now, it’s late and we’ve had a long night. We should both turn in.” She turned and began to climb the stairs.

“I’ll be up in a minute,” Matthew said. “I’m actually rather keyed up after…well, after everything. I might read a bit.”

He wandered to the drawing room and picked up his book. He opened it, but couldn’t focus on the pages, his mind wandering back to the Abbey. He wondered if Mary was still awake as well. He had taken his time walking home. He couldn’t remember a thing about the walk. Normally he’d have enjoyed the sounds of the night: crickets, owls, even the swooping of a bat. Tonight however, he could focus on nothing but the memory of holding Mary in his arms.  He’d dreamt about it long enough; he’d loved her almost from the moment they’d met. He wet his lips, remembering the feeling of hers against them. He had never felt this way before. He’d kissed girls before, of course, but it was never like this. He could not imagine ever spending a day without Mary Crawley from now on.

* * *

Mary opened the door to her bedroom and saw her maid, Anna, laying out her night gown. “Did Mr. Crawley go home, then?” She asked. Mary tilted her head and smiled affectionately.

“Yes.” She came to stand in the middle of the room as Anna began undoing the buttons of her dress. “You know he did. I’m sorry we kept you all up so late. But I couldn’t let him starve. He completely missed his dinner, thanks to Lady Sybil.”

“That’s alright, milady,” Anna said. “Mr. Carson wasn’t too happy about the lateness of the hour, but he’d do anything for you, so he didn’t grumble too much.”

“I’m glad he wasn’t around when Mr. Crawley left,” Mary said with a slight blush.

“Oh? Why’s that, milady?” Anna asked. Mary sat at her vanity and started pulling off her jewelry as Anna began helping her remove her shoes.

“Mr. Crawley was quite flustered.” Mary smiled, recalling Matthew’s reluctance to leave. “If Mr. Carson didn’t like the time, he definitely would not have approved of that at all.” She gave Anna a significant look. There were not many people that Mary felt she could be completely open with, but Anna was high on the list.

“Are sandwiches so improper?” Anna asked as she began removing pins from Mary’s hair. “I can’t imagine how they could fluster Mr. Crawley so.”

“I don’t think it was the sandwiches that caused it.” Mary blushed again. Anna met Mary’s eyes in the mirror. It might be impertinent to ask, but she could tell that Mary was bursting to tell her more.

“And what did, milady?”

“He proposed to me.” A wide smile broke across Mary’s face. “We were talking and then he kissed me and proposed!”

“Will you accept him?” Anna smiled back. “Do you love him, then?”

“I think I do,” Mary said, turning to look at Anna directly. “I really think I do. I don’t even know when it happened. Probably much longer ago than I realized.”

“That’s wonderful, milady!” Anna was genuinely happy. “You deserve real love. I always hated the way they pushed you at Mr. Patrick. I’m sorry if it’s impertinent to say so.”

“Oh Anna,” Mary laughed, “I don’t care a fig about all that. You’re a better friend to me than anyone. I think you can say something like that without worrying.” She frowned suddenly. “The only problem is….” She trailed off, biting her lip.

“There’s a problem?” Anna asked, suddenly concerned.

“I have to tell him.” Mary looked into to Anna���s eyes. “I can’t keep it from him. Mama says I should, but I can’t. Matthew is so good. He would be crushed if I hid it from him. It wouldn’t be honest.”

“Can I say something, openly?” Anna looked thoughtful. Mary didn’t say anything but nodded. “Mr. Crawley is a good man, and he wouldn’t propose if he didn’t truly love you. If you’re honest with him, I don’t think it will change anything.  But secrets never keep. I wouldn’t try to hide it from him.”

“I’m sure he’ll despise me….” Mary looked down, her lip trembling. “How can I expect to be worthy of him when I’m damaged goods?”

“I don’t think you are, milady,” Anna said kindly. “Everyone makes mistakes, and I think Mr. Crawley will be very reasonable if you tell him.”

“There are rumors already, Mama told me a while ago.”

“All the more reason to tell him,” Anna said as a matter of fact. “It won’t help for him to hear it from someone else.”

“You’re right, I suppose.” Mary sighed as Anna finished tying her hair back. “I’ll have to tell him. The hard part will be getting the courage to do it. I wish I had Sybil’s strength.”

She bid Anna good night and climbed into bed.  There was a book on her bedside table. She opened it and turned to a page with a small note scribbled on the margin in pencil. She smiled at the words and ran her finger over them, wondering if their author could feel it.  She wondered if he was still up as well. If he felt anything like her, he was thinking far too much to go to sleep. She imagined how lovely it would be to have him here, just to talk to. Yes, she was sure she loved him. The big question was, did he love her. Not some image of her he had in his mind, but the real her. And would that love be enough to withstand the truth of her wretchedness? She didn’t know how she would gather the strength to tell him, but she would have to. The only other question now was when?

[glittergelpensherlock]

just remembering how much i love them

[nancy-drewdles]

i definitely have a type

bonus:

[dogzcats]

I wanted to give you this. It’s my lucky charm. I’ve had it always. So you must promise to bring it back, without a scratch.

[kehlana-wolhamonao3]

I did it! An update to Time Traveller's War is posted! And it's a pivotal chapter for sure. I can't wait to see your reactions to this one!

I will post it on fanfiction.net too later tonight, but for now it's already up on AO3 :)

[byeletty]