Funeral
Title: Funeral
Author: tehkandrewfan
Rating: K+
Characters/Pairings: Anna Smith, John Bates; Anna/Bates
Warnings: Mentions of character death
Word Count: 299.
They walk between the crosses in silence, holding hands for moral support. Anna clutches at a bouquet of flowers that she’d picked earlier.
At last, they come to a stop. Anna bends down with her offering, resting them reverently against the fresh marker. The words are stark, harshly cut. William Mason.
“Downton’s not the same without you, William,” Anna says quietly, and John has to clear his throat of the hard lump. “Everyone misses you.”
John fights to keep his composure. There had been so many happy evenings in the servants’ hall, with lively music. He can see the little frown of concentration on his face now, but it will never be more than a fleeting remembrance of the ghost boy.
Anna talks a little more. She doesn’t seem to feel awkward pouring out her innermost thoughts in front of him. For his part, John tries not to listen further.
“Rest in peace,” she says at last, and John turns his attention back to her. She’s ashen. There are tears now. Slowly, she stands.
John moves to circle her in his arms, propriety be damned. He kisses her face as best he can around her hat, then closes his eyes. Anna’s shoulders shake. He remembers William vividly, remembers being asked about love and the senselessness of being drawn to people who didn’t feel the same, the younger lad’s eyes shining with agony and despair, as though the world had been collapsing in on him. And now William will never know a long, loving life surrounded by his wife and children.
Anna turns into him fully, her arms coming around him, obviously not the slightest bit bothered about what people will think if they stumble across them. John can’t care either.
Together, they mourn the loss of a wonderful friend.
Author: tehkandrewfan
Rating: K+
Characters/Pairings: Anna Smith, John Bates; Anna/Bates
Warnings: Mentions of character death
Word Count: 299.
They walk between the crosses in silence, holding hands for moral support. Anna clutches at a bouquet of flowers that she’d picked earlier.
At last, they come to a stop. Anna bends down with her offering, resting them reverently against the fresh marker. The words are stark, harshly cut. William Mason.
“Downton’s not the same without you, William,” Anna says quietly, and John has to clear his throat of the hard lump. “Everyone misses you.”
John fights to keep his composure. There had been so many happy evenings in the servants’ hall, with lively music. He can see the little frown of concentration on his face now, but it will never be more than a fleeting remembrance of the ghost boy.
Anna talks a little more. She doesn’t seem to feel awkward pouring out her innermost thoughts in front of him. For his part, John tries not to listen further.
“Rest in peace,” she says at last, and John turns his attention back to her. She’s ashen. There are tears now. Slowly, she stands.
John moves to circle her in his arms, propriety be damned. He kisses her face as best he can around her hat, then closes his eyes. Anna’s shoulders shake. He remembers William vividly, remembers being asked about love and the senselessness of being drawn to people who didn’t feel the same, the younger lad’s eyes shining with agony and despair, as though the world had been collapsing in on him. And now William will never know a long, loving life surrounded by his wife and children.
Anna turns into him fully, her arms coming around him, obviously not the slightest bit bothered about what people will think if they stumble across them. John can’t care either.
Together, they mourn the loss of a wonderful friend.