Am I not among the early risers?
For bsg_aussiegirl, with my love, on her birthday. All sunshine and glitter, puppies and rainbows.
It was a habit of hers from her first days of service. Each morning Elsie Hughes would rise early, giving up a precious half-hour of sleep, to slip outside and greet the dawn.
It was her time to find something for herself before serving the needs and wants of others, her moment to take something of her own from the beauty of these houses in which she dusted the treasures of others and stocked the larders of others.
For over 20 years she'd started her day with a brisk walk, getting as far from Downton as she could in 15 minutes. She tried to outwalk the troubles the day would bring, the ache in her eyes from the paperwork, the ache in her back from stooping low and reaching high to check the work of the maids. The ache in her heart watching the young people under her charge.
The morning after New Years Elsie woke a half hour early, as she always did. Behind her she could feel the solid warmth of Charles's body. Yesterday many things had changed at Downton: the odious Sir Richard was gone, Thomas was back in His Lordship's good graces, Lady Mary had finally heeded Carson's advice and was to wed Mr Matthew. In the wake of that joy, over a glass of champagne in her parlour late that night, Charles had confessed what was in his heart, and she had finally been brave enough to plainly state what was in her own.
She turned and settled into her lover's embrace, kissed him until he woke. She didn't need to go outside to find something of her own in the vast reaches of Downton. Perhaps tomorrow she would take Charles outside with her and share with him the world she'd always kept for herself.
It was a habit of hers from her first days of service. Each morning Elsie Hughes would rise early, giving up a precious half-hour of sleep, to slip outside and greet the dawn.
It was her time to find something for herself before serving the needs and wants of others, her moment to take something of her own from the beauty of these houses in which she dusted the treasures of others and stocked the larders of others.
For over 20 years she'd started her day with a brisk walk, getting as far from Downton as she could in 15 minutes. She tried to outwalk the troubles the day would bring, the ache in her eyes from the paperwork, the ache in her back from stooping low and reaching high to check the work of the maids. The ache in her heart watching the young people under her charge.
The morning after New Years Elsie woke a half hour early, as she always did. Behind her she could feel the solid warmth of Charles's body. Yesterday many things had changed at Downton: the odious Sir Richard was gone, Thomas was back in His Lordship's good graces, Lady Mary had finally heeded Carson's advice and was to wed Mr Matthew. In the wake of that joy, over a glass of champagne in her parlour late that night, Charles had confessed what was in his heart, and she had finally been brave enough to plainly state what was in her own.
She turned and settled into her lover's embrace, kissed him until he woke. She didn't need to go outside to find something of her own in the vast reaches of Downton. Perhaps tomorrow she would take Charles outside with her and share with him the world she'd always kept for herself.