Notes From Sarah

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Reflections of the Sun and Moon

Downton Abbey

Missing Out

Non-fic fannish stuff

My Downton Abbey Episode Titles

Harry Potter

Interlude

Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel

Train to London

Star Wars

The Best Pilot in the Galaxy

Coarse Talk

The Thimblerig Plot

Mirrors (series)

Damaged Mirrors Scratched Mirrors Tarnished Mirrors

Star Wars: Rebels

Behind Her Beskar (chapters below)

Kanan's Secret 1, 2, 3, 4 At Home 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 Safe and Sound 1, 2, 3, 4 Passing Moments 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 Adjustments 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 Family Matters 1, 2, 3, 4 Truth and Consequences 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 Trials and Travails 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

A Bone to Pick

Feel You There

It's Good to be Home

Take My Hand (Take My Whole Life Too)

Days in the Wilderness (series)

This Day

You and Me Makes Us 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

X-Men

Graveside

Kitty's Unexpected Hanukkah Road Trip

Return More Than Echoes

Non-fic fannish stuff

Magneto: A Biographical Timeline, 1963-1991

When Magneto Became Romani

Zorro (1957)

A Coal Black Colt

Poinsettias for Maria

Non-fic fannish stuff

1 - Dying to Go

A/N: Set after the concert in 2x1.

“What’re you reading there?” William asked noting the large tome Branson was perusing at the table in the servants hall.

“Das Kapital,” replied Branson, looking up from his page.

“You’re reading a German book?” William was astonished that Branson, whose politics Branson made sure were a non-stop topic of discussion, would stoop so low as to read something written by a Hun. “In times like these don’t you think that’s a bit much, even for you?”

Branson smiled a bit. “Well it is German, I suppose, but it’s certainly not something that supports the Kaiser.”

“William’s right,” joined in Miss O’Brien, who loved any opportunity to give Branson a hard time. “It’s downright disloyal to be reading German works right now.”

Branson opened his mouth to retort something about his loyalties, which everyone including William were tired of hearing about, but fortunately Mr. Carson entered the hall and put an end to the entire discussion by calling Branson to bring the car around. Branson shut his mouth and went to do as he was told, leaving the book on the table.

William looked at the book again as he sat heavily at the table. “It’s not right, not even for him, to be reading German stuff like this. Not while our side is sending home hundreds of men every week who’ve been killed by them.”

“Best not to think too much on it,” said O’Brien as she settled in to work on her sewing. “They’ll come for him soon enough and that’ll learn him a thing or two.”

“Wish they’d come for me.” William sulked. Since the war began he’d wanted to join up. Wanted to be part of it all. William had watched in astonishment as Thomas Barrow of all people raced to sign up early. Thomas had just been the first, soon enough almost every lad his age was in. They were all experiencing the war of the generation and he was stuck here at Downton shining silver and serving dinner. It didn’t sit right with him that they should be out there protecting everyone, saving England from the Teutonic threat while he was still ironing the morning paper.

It wasn’t just the sacrifice that others were making on his behalf. William knew he was missing out. Come war’s end he’d find himself surrounded by young men who’d been to France and they’d all be talking about what they did during the war and he’d just be sitting there silently, listening, with nothing to say. He could imagine the day a girl brought him to meet her father and the man would look him in the eye and ask What did you do during the war? And William knew he’d be standing there, shamefaced, as he replied, nothing.

William felt the shame welling in him even now. That white feather he’d been given weighed on him like a thousand tons. He’d kept it, and every time he looked at it he was reminded of what a coward he was. How he was hiding behind his dad’s teary-eyed request that he not go unless he was called. Branson had also gotten a feather that night, but the Irishman had no shame. Branson thought the whole thing was funny and had pinned it up in the garage like it was some sort of prize. William never did understand the chauffeur.

About fifty times a day William talked himself into defying his father and signing up anyway. And about fifty more times each day he had to talk himself out of it again. He just didn’t understand why his dad was so resistant to letting him go. Didn’t his father know that without this war they’d all be speaking German? Didn’t his dad understand how evil the Kaiser was? William knew his father was a provincial farmer with little knowledge of the world, but the threat of Austria-Hungary was hard to ignore.

And what about the girls? No one would want a sniveling coward like him for a husband. Even sweet little Daisy would look right past him once a real war hero stopped by. He’d never stand a chance with any girl ever again if he stayed put at Downton. Yes, his father said over and over that if he joined up it would hurt him, and that William’s mother wouldn’t have wanted it, but what about what William wanted? William just wanted to do the right thing for king and country. He wanted to show the world he wasn’t just a country clodhopper who was only just managing to hold onto a job as a servant. War could make heroes of men and could really change their lives and their fortunes. He’d never be much at Downton, but the battlefield would make a real man of him. It had probably made quite a lot of the men who were there already, like Thomas.

William could imagine the day when Thomas returned to Downton. He could just see the man sneering at him saying, What? Were you to delicate to get your hands dirty out there in France? Carson had to keep you around to play housemaid with the girls? Some of us have had to be real men out there. William clenched his fist wanting to go ahead and give Thomas a whack for all the mean things he was sure to say should they ever meet again. He wanted to give Thomas a good thumping, but deep down William knew what Thomas would say would be true.

It was hopeless. William knew it as much as anyone. He wasn’t man-enough to defy his father and he wasn’t lucky enough to get drafted. He’d end up doing what he’d always been afraid of, vanishing to the sidelines. His mother had been so proud when he’d got the job as a footman, but she didn’t know any more than his dad did. The real pride was to be had in glory on the battlefield. The only thing Downton had to offer was a future of derision as people figured out he’d been too weak to join the fight.

“William?” Mr. Carson’s booming voice echoed in the hall as he returned from wherever he’d been. “I need you to help me with the silver, please don’t dwadle.”

William stood from where he’d been sitting and contemplating. “Yes, Mr. Carson.” He tried to shake himself free of the shame that seemed to cling to him like an odor, but he had no luck as he followed after Mr. Carson to do yet another worthless chore.

2 - Word of Warning

A/N: Set during 2x3

Leaning by the mantle in the servant’s hall, Thomas lit a cigarette and watched as William was fawned over by the housemaids. Standing straight in his shiny green uniform, William basked in the attention he so rarely received. An older version of Thomas would have sneered at William’s simple innocence, but not now. Now, Thomas just felt sorry for him. In his years at the front, Thomas had seen a thousand Williams come and go. Their innocence was always the first thing to die a brutal death, and then they usually followed not long later. He didn’t want that for William.

The thought almost surprised Thomas. There’d been many a day when they were footmen together that Thomas had wished the other dead. William was always fucking things up and Thomas just couldn’t stand how much of a lout the boy was. But seeing him again now, Thomas found himself feeling much softer towards the boy he’d practically grown up with. This kid was going to get chewed up and spit out in France, he knew that for sure. It was a real pity William couldn’t have been spared that.

As the housemaids left William be to carry on with their own work, William looked up and caught Thomas’ eye. Coming over to stand near the mantle with Thomas, William asked, “So what’s it like over there, really?”

Thomas almost answered in his typically sarcastic and glib way. Almost said something about making daisy chains with the Germans. But the innocence and fervor in William’s eyes made him want to prepare the young man in some small way. Young man. Here Thomas was thinking of a boy his own age as a young man. But it was true. Thomas felt like he was about a thousand years old right now. He certainly wasn’t a young man anymore.

“What’s it like?” Thomas repeated the question as he stubbed out his cigarette. “It’s like nothing you can imagine. It’s the worst day of your life every morning and a nightmare every night.”

William sighed, exasperated. “You’re just trying to unnerve me before I go. I don’t know why I even bothered asking.”

Thomas shook his head. “No, I’m not. I mean it. Yeah, you always hear stories about war being hell on earth, but it’s true. I suppose you’re not going to understand till you get there though.” Thomas cast a critical eye over William. The boy’s uniform was clean and new with no holes or stains. But the goof hadn’t managed to do up all the details right. How could this idiot stand a chance?

“I know it’s not going to be a picnic, I read the papers,” said William. “I know what our boys are going through out there.”

“No, you don’t.” Thomas said bluntly. “The papers only print what the War Office allows them to. They make no mention of the disease and desperation because that might make the war unpopular, and we can’t have an unpopular war, now can we?” Thomas stepped over to William and began fixing the straps on his belt. “No, William, you have no idea what it’s like.”

William looked down at what Thomas was doing and blushed as he realized he’d made a mistake when he’d donned his uniform that morning. “The best thing I can tell you,” Thomas continued as he buttoned up the flap on William’s breast pocket, “is to keep your head down and don’t be first over the top.”

“But,” William protested, “I have to go where I’m ordered.”

“I mean it,” said Thomas in a no-nonsense tone as he patted William’s chest. “The first ones over, well, let’s just say there wasn’t much for me to fetch back when the Germans got done with them. You don’t need to be one of them.”

“I won’t be hanging back,” said William resolutely. “I’ve hung back in this war long enough, I won’t be hanging back any longer. If that means the Germans get me, then so be it. At least I’ll have acquitted myself with honor.”

Thomas gave a mirthless laugh at the idea of honor in war as he undid William’s epaulet and untwisted it. “What, did you get dressed in the dark this morning?” Thomas shook his head. “I’ve told you all I can about it, I guess you’ll just have to see for yourself.” He looked hard into William’s eyes, “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He wished there was a way to get through to these young idiots, to make them see sense, but for some experience would be the only teacher.

“I appreciate what you’re saying,” said William, “but maybe I’m just better suited to this kind of thing than you think.”

Thomas sighed heavily as he refastened the epaulet. “Of all the times I’ve called you stupid, you’ve never been as stupid as you are now.” William stiffened and Thomas knew he was offended and spoiling for one last fight. Thomas didn’t have it in him though. Patting William’s epaulet flat, Thomas stepped back and looked him up and down again. “But know that I hope very much that you make it through out there and come back every bit as stupid as you are now. And I really mean it, keep your head down. I’ve seen too many take a bullet through the brain because they were tired of crouching. The helmets are mostly decorative when it comes to sniper fire.”

William relaxed again and said in a softer tone, “I suppose you saw a lot of people die out there.”

This wasn’t something Thomas talked about to anyone. Either you’d been there and you already knew, or you’d not been there and didn’t need to hear about it. Thomas nodded. “I lost count after a while. This isn’t like the wars that Bates or His Lordship played soldier in. This is the real one. Don’t do anything stupid and you just might make it back home.”

William nodded. This time, Thomas thought he just might have gotten through. Maybe the bumbler would be a little extra careful and maybe he would make it out alive. Thomas silently sighed with relief. “And don’t go near the French whores, they all have syphilis.”

William blushed to the roots of his hair and Thomas smirked as he got out a fresh cigarette. “I mean that. You don’t want VD and trench foot at the same time, the medic just might kill you and save the Germans the trouble.”