"Where are we, now?" Elijah enquired as he watched the cool breeze flow through the trees. It seemed familiar to him. The trees were in full bloom and he watched birds fly through the clear sky. The water from the lake lapped against the dock, which creaked and moaned from such little force. "Are you sure we are in the right place? I could have sworn you spoke of something far worse. If I weren't already there I would say we are in heaven."

"Charming." Joseph scoffed.

"You will find soon enough that the picture you see is not what is meant to be. Do you see those figures in the distance?" The North Star replied ominously. Three considerably small children were trying with all their might to run through the lengthy grass, their skirts hiked up as they tried to course their way towards the lake.

"Come on, Carson!" the eldest one yelled to the man, Charles Carson, who lazily strode behind them at a slower pace. His waistcoat lay unbuttoned at his side and his shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows to reveal his muscular forearms. He smiled at the children and thanked the Lord above that he was the one chosen for this outing. The girls had insisted that he be the one to accompany them on their 'adventure'. Everyone knew that the youngsters were keen on the newly appointed butler and him just as attached to the children as well. As he strolled through the grass he admired them.

Sybil, the youngest, at age three was very well behaved. She kept quiet most of the time but, when she found something that she was avidly amused by she would always speak what was on her mind, though most could hardly understand what she was saying. Charles remarked on how kind she was at such a young age, and hoped that she would be blessed with that quality through the years to come. Mary, the eldest, at age seven was a natural born leader. She held her head fairly high and was known for being quite smart to the people around her. To Carson she was kind and sweet and although was not as innocent as she was perceived, she held a special place in his heart. Edith, the middle, only one year younger than her eldest sister was a solemn child. She often secluded herself away from her siblings and kept mostly to herself within the library. Edith wasn't spiteful, far from it, she was every bit a perfect child but, Charles could see that she did not carry the same spirit as her sisters.

"Who are they?"

"They are the daughters of Charles Carson's employers. Quite adorable don't you think?" The North Star chuckled as the youngest fell down and quickly got up, shaking off the dirt from her pretty skirts.

"Yes, quite."

Carson sped up his pace as they descended down the small hill that lead to the dock. He discarded his coat, which was previously slung over his shoulder, at the end of the dock. Charles took a deep breath and closed his eyes. His thoughts drifted towards the young Scottish lass and the choices he had recently made.

Ever since his promotion he had been on his best behavior when it came to socializing with the younger staff. He supposed that the only reason Mr. Williams had even considered giving him the job was because of his drastic change in personality. The younger and naïve boy that first arrived at Downton Abbey was long gone and Charles had no desire to bring him back anytime soon. He was no longer a 'Cheerful Charlie', all he wanted was to bury his past as deep as he could and never uncover it again.

She was what changed him and if it wasn't for her he doubted he would be where he was right now. Butler to one of the lords of the land was a great accomplishment and when he wrote to his mother she could hardly contain her tears. Everyone was proud of him, many had said so. When he first told Elsie she stood in front of him in mock shock, she knew all along that he was going to become something great.

Charles opened his eyes to see the children splashing one another in the shallow water. He wondered what it would be like to have children of his own. As he admired his aging hands he told himself that there was going to be very little time to do such things. He thought about if he and Alice had worked out would he be staring at his own flesh and blood, his own children as they splashed in the lake. Charles told himself that he would never regret a single moment in his life, no matter how painful the decision might have been.

A vivid moment passed through his thoughts and he cringed. When he had settled into his pantry she had visited him. He remembered how she knocked sweetly on his open door, her hands holding a tray that contained their afternoon tea. He remembered how she had smiled at him and bit her lower lip and how she brushed a lock of hair from her cheek. Charles could remember every second that she spent with him and he tried ever so hard to bury her with all his other unwanted thoughts. She congratulated him of course as she started pouring the tea that day. Her delicate fingers had made the perfect cup, just the way he liked it, for him. As she held it out to him with that wonderful, wonderful grin he declined. Shaking his head he had said no words to her. And the look that crossed her face was one that he swore he would never forget, the utter humiliation and heartache.

God, what a fool he was. His mind kept telling him it was the right thing to do; there was no room for romance and impropriety now that he had finally made something of himself. She walked out of the pantry without another word, and that was the last time she spoke to him since.

Charles sighed and sat down on the grass, his legs stretched out and his elbows supported his upper body. Although it was quite warm, there was still a winter chill in the air.

'The water must be freezing,' he thought to himself idly. He made a note to make the girls get out soon before they caught their death.

Charles leaned back into the warm grass and shielded his eyes from the sun with his arm. Taking a deep breath he relaxed.

"I don't see what is so tragic about this whole thing. Honestly, I think you've chosen the wrong memory!" Elijah had seen just about enough of this whole ordeal. There was nothing terrible about this scene whatsoever.

"I am never wrong." The North Star scoffed, "Be patient, my friend."

In a blink of an eye, the scene did change. Elijah followed the youngest daughter to the edge of the dock. Her head craned to see the young tadpoles swimming along the bank. Slowly he saw her body tumble into the water, an incredible piercing shriek breaking Charles from his reverie.

It all happened so quickly, he hardly thought it happened at all. The cries of help from the other two siblings made him jump, he ran as fast as he could and dove into the murky water. Surfacing he searched for the small child, her splashing had ceased. Frantically his head turned in every direction, his heart skipping a beat. Diving underwater he opened his eyes to see her lifeless body floating. Charles fluid strokes quickly positioned him to the point where he could grab her arm and surface with her. Making his way to shore he tried to dislodge the water that was caught in her throat. Sybil made no move; no sweet words fell from her mouth.

He laid her on the shore and moved her hair that clung to her forehead.

Oh God, please no. Please God, don't do this. She's too young.

Charles cradled her head and whispered his prayers.

"You didn't let her die did you, sir?"

The North Star watched the small child being held tightly by the great bear of a man, her sisters sobbing by his side. His heart ached for them. And with a shake of his head he replied to Elijah,

"No. I did not let her die."

Sybil coughed and Charles moved his head to see her spit up the lake water. His tears hit her cheek and he could have sworn his heart stopped. Clutching her to him he soothed her sobs. He thanked God for the miracle that he had blessed upon them. Sybil's tears were flowing as she wrapped her arms around Carson's neck, her teeth started to chatter from the cold of the water. Charles shirt clung to his body and he felt the same chill the child did. He did not mind, his smile broadened with each breath she took.

Mary and Edith's tears finally ceased and Charles stood. He settled Sybil down, checking her for any sign of injury and sighed; she was fine, she was going to be alright. He gathered his coat and wrapped it around Sybil, her body being engulfed by it. Picking her up, her hand wrapped around his neck as he carried her home. Mary clutched his right hand and Edith held hers. They walked towards the Abbey, no tears were shed, and no one spoke a word.

"A miracle." The North Star muttered to the fading shadows.

As they walked quickly along the path, the cold had caught up to the both of them. His hair felt like ice on his forehead and his clothes were becoming heavier. He rubbed Sybil's back in an effort to keep her warmer. As they approached the Abbey he could feel her shivers become stronger. Turning to the sisters he told them to run as fast as they could and tell Elsie, the head housemaid, to draw a hot bath. He saw them disappear around the corner of the house and held onto the child in his arms tighter. Soothing words spilled from his mouth as he tried to keep her calm.

When he came around to the servant's entrance he saw her standing there, her eyes were so full of worry. Elsie motioned for him to move quicker. When he stood face to face with her he could see the tears that were on the brink of falling. Charles handed Sybil to her and she disappeared through the halls and up the stairs. With a sigh he nearly collapsed from exhaustion. Charles made his way towards his pantry. The staff peeped their heads around every corner to see what all the commotion was about, and when they saw the butler they gasped. He was worn down and when he finally entered his pantry he slammed it shut shaking the very roof of the building.

Charles grabbed the woolen blanket hidden in the cupboard by his desk then pursued in making a fire. His skin was ice and his bones were beginning to feel brittle. Finally with a fire roaring he managed to curl into the large chair, his eyes becoming heavy with each glance at the dancing flames. As he nodded in and out of sleep he saw a figure standing above him. He knew it was her; anybody else that dared to enter his pantry without permission would certainly have their ear lashed off. She kneeled beside him and cradled his face, stroking his flushed cheeks with the pad of her thumb. He could see the tears in her eyes and before he could protest, her lips pressed against his forehead. Her kiss lingered. He closed his eyes and inhaled her scent, savoring the moment that was now. And when she finally parted from him he could see her lips turn up into a smile.

Elsie lovingly brushed his hair from his face and refused to meet his eyes. She knew it was improper, by God she knew how inappropriate it was but she couldn't help herself. Rubbing his shoulders to give him some kind of warmth she grasped his hands and finally stood.

"She's fine." Elsie muttered as he rubbed circles over her palm. "Everyone is fine."

That night after Charles was seen that he got warm; he was rewarded with the presence of Lord Grantham in his pantry. He told Carson that he wouldn't have known what to do if it was him and that he was the hero of the day. Charles told him time and time again that it wasn't he who saved Sybil, but the work of God. That night the stars shined more brightly than any other night in a very long time. A miracle had been performed and Charles Carson was the sole man that took the credit for it.

"A work of God, indeed." The North Star said in triumph.

Lovely, don't you think? I don't even know what came over me in this chapter. You don't think it's too cheesy do you? Feedback would be great. I don't know who will be next but stay tuned and we'll go through this mess together.