Downton Abbey Fanfiction

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Mary's bedroom, Downton Abbey

Mary lay in the bed and all was quiet. What was she thinking? "What was Mama thinking?!" She said aloud. Thomas kept his mouth shut, fighting the urge to point out that Lady Grantham had probably been thinking a lot more than Mary was right now, lying in bed next to a homosexual butler. "A married Countess, with an art historian! The ludicrisy of it all. She should be ashamed of herself." Thomas just stayed silent. "What do you think, sweetheart?" She had come to call him that recently. It disturbed him slightly, but at least it proved her seriousness. Or her insanity, depending on your opinion. Thomas was more on the 'insanity' side of things, but he wasn't complaining. It was these 'meets' that got him promoted to butler when Mr Carson left, and he got out of the tedious work too.

"I think she probably had reasons at first, but now she sees her mistakes." Thomas was the only servant privy to this information. Mary had overheard a few conversations and some heated words between Lady Cora and Mrs Levinson, which brought her to the conclusion that her mother was a slut. Thomas did not particularly share Mary's opinion, but could not help finding Cora's disloyalty to Lord Grantham shocking and out of character. Like mother, like daughter it seemed. At least Matthew was dead.

Mary sighed softly, laying her head on his bare chest. She closed her eyes and for a fleeting second he saw Jimmy in her place. He blinked and rubbed his eyes. "But an art historian! I mean really! What on earth would she know about art!" Thomas couldn't help smiling. Mary sat up slightly, "what are you grinning at?" She smiled, moving closer to his face. She kissed him slowly, drawing out the moment. "Not at me surely!" She giggled and snuggled into his side. He was used to this by now and put his arm around her, pulling her closer to him. He kissed her head and lay back, closing his eyes. Kemal Pamuk appeared in his mind. Thomas opened his eyes immediately. Kemal, the handsome Turk, had died in this bed, most likely where he was lying right now.

A coldness engulfed Thomas. It may have been more than ten years ago, but it still bothered him. It bothered him a lot.

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The Carsons's Cottage

Elsie Carson was half way through her knitting. Her husband sat across from her, reading a book of Wordsworth Poetry. Sometimes he would stop, and read out a verse or two, maybe something that reminded him of her or something particularly beautiful. Retirement was sweet and they both enjoyed it. At first they had been worried about how to spend their time-as they were so used to busy days at the Abbey-, but they had adopted many hobbies already.

Elsie had taken up knitting and was currently working on a scarf for her beloved husband. Charlie was catching up on his reading and had also volunteered to coach the villiage cricket team. His loyalty did still lie with the Abbey team, however. Elsie had received a cook book from Mrs Patmore upon her leaving, and used every opportunity to try the various recipes. It had been a long time since she had cooked a full meal and it was nice to go to the shop and pick ingredients, something that she never did at the Abbey. Charlie was actually quite the gardener, as Elsie discovered. Now that they were married and no longer constantly surrounded by other servants, Charlie ventured to sing for his wife. Not much, maybe when he was in the garden or she was cooking.