Disclaimer: I don't own Downton Abbey or any of its characters, wishful thinking aside.

Authors Note #1: I needed some dirty Edith/Anthony (Andith) and decided to bring the Sentinel/Guide trope in with me. In this story, the idea is that a Sentinel, or a person with enhanced senses, doesn't come online until meeting their Guide, the person best suited to help them balance these abilities – essentially the other half of their soul. In my version, neither Sentinel nor Guide can come online until they are at least twenty years of age. So, essentially, when Sir Anthony Strallan visits Downton in 1x5, this is the first time an encounter would have resulted in them being matched as Edith is at least twenty years old in 1912. – This story has elements of the soulmates/one love bond, as in this version, all Sentinel/Guide pairs are romantically attached.

Warnings: *Contains: porn with some actual plot – but not much, dub-con due to trope, period appropriate behavior/language/thoughts/actions/etc, use of restraints, animal traits/behaviors, sexual content, oral sex, nudity.

Preconceptions (preconceived, prejudice or just plain puzzled)

Chapter Four

She came back to herself slowly. Not for the first time in so many hours. Finding herself sprawled across the bed, naked and gently pinned underneath a long span of masculine-pale and tawny graying-blonde hair.

She was still caught in that fuzzy place between sleep and wakefulness when she allowed her hand to card through it, curious. Admiring the way the odd silver hair caught the light before she followed lightly toned muscles all the way up to-

Oh!

Sir Anthony.

Her Sentinel.

She peeked through the stuttered dark, the low glow of the fire being the only light, over-warm where he was pressed against her. Scooped close to his chest and tucked firmly, wide palm cupped around the curve of her hip, the other buried firmly in her hair. Keeping her close – safe – even in sleep as he stirred quietly. Perhaps noting the change in her breathing, however slight, as he murmured nonsense into her curls and tangled their legs together. Flaring heat low in her belly as his hardness prodded questioningly against her, reminding her of the hours before and the delicious pleasures they had shared.

She gave herself a moment to soak it in. The pleasant scent of him, the lingering musk of their pleasure and the honest draw of him before she chanced movement. Uncurling herself slowly, gingerly, sore in places she'd rather not mention, but satisfied beyond measure as she looked about the room in embarrassed dismay.

She was only just entertaining what happened next when Sir Anthony woke. Blinking muzzily at the ceiling before throwing an arm over his eyes and stretching languorously. Nearly upsetting her from her place beside him as he inhaled throatily. Free hand creeping blindly across the sheets as he rubbed at the threads with idle interest, nostrils flaring when his nail scraped across a wet patch and released the fresh scent of their emissions into the close air.

"Good god," he exclaimed, letting go of a groan that got muffled into the mattress as he pressed his face into the ball of sheets and ripped up blankets. Reminding her of pillow creases and the rumpled state of his hair as his hips hitched into hers thoughtlessly.

It amused her enough to make her giggle without filter. Regretting it only when the sound caused him to stiffen immediately. Fumbling upright in the damp sheets to face her, wide-eyed. A poignant mix between wanton and horrified as he clutched uselessly at the linens, trying to shield her from his impressive length as his member tented the sheets in his lap with dramatic stubbornness.

"Lady Edith, you must forgive me! I-I-"

But she stopped him immediately, sensing where he was going and halting him with a bold finger pressed light over his lips. Pleased when he obeyed without question. Finding the surge of embarrassed propriety that'd risen quickly between them remarkably silly considering the circumstances.

Bidding him to look at her smile and the contented glow that surrounded them before taking stock of the room together – hand in hand in bed. It was certainly a sight. What with the overturned chair, side table and abandoned restraints. Wincing with her when he saw her gown in tatters across the floor, undergarments suitably strewn about the room to match. Even going so far as to delight her with an amused huff when he pointed to her corset, quietly smoldering against the fire grate.

Lord in heaven, they really had tied one in with each other, hadn't they!?

She caught a glance of their reflection in the looking glass across the room, realizing she was beaming. Feeling decidedly settled – content – for the first time in her life as she arched her back. Gratified when the action captured his attention. Watching him watch her through the mirror as his eyes raked down her, desire clear. She bit her lip, finding herself not quite above stretching luxuriously. Welcoming his attentions as the angry line of marks he'd sucked into the delicate taper of her collarbone came firmly into view, making his breath catch becomingly.

She found she quite enjoyed it.

"I would rather us choke on the words we can't say, than drown in the ones we think we can – perhaps in a moment of desperation and uncertainty - only to regret them later," she told him eventually, looking down at their joined hands with pride before squeezing gently. Pleased when he returned the gesture tentatively.

"Quite right my dear, very wise," he replied after a series of steadying breaths, visibly calming as he buried his face in her hair and pulled her firmly – carefully – into his chest. An exciting mix between man and Sentinel as he took comfort in their conjoined scents. Finding that much, at least, to be true as she tried to remember everything papa had told her about bonded pairs.

She would need to familiarize herself with all the details she could, and immediately!

"I believe we must have properly shocked everyone," she offered after a time. Sated and far gentler than she usually was when it came to her sisters as she recalled the look on Mary's face before the door had closed. And while she didn't know where the surge of gentleness had come from, she only had to look into his kind eyes to know he was already affecting her - just as she was him.

"No doubt!" he exclaimed, "Your father must be ready to have me run off and shot, I'll expect. And quite right too. I believe I owe your Cousin an apology, as well. If my memory is correct, I might have struck him. Right mess I've made out of this. That's for certain."

"We've made," she reminded firmly. But with a hint of teasing at the corner as his own lips perked up, clearly warming to the notion. "I was there too, don't you forget. Besides, I believe I might have done something terribly improper as well. I-I think I growled at mama. They were keeping me from you and I couldn't-"

He seemed to sense her need before she knew it herself. Soothing her instantly. "Hush. Darling," he murmured, "I understand completely. I was ready to take the world on just to touch you. You have no idea. Even now, there is nothing I wouldn't do."

She curled closer, burrowing into his chest as she considered the matter. It was such a queer thing, to know a person without truly knowing them. To have them in the most intimate sense but having never had a conversation. It was all very backward. Endearing. Right. But still the wrong way round as far as she was concerned.

"You may think me forward, Sir Anthony, but I want to be clear," she started, tracing distracted whorls into the inside of his wrist, nipples tightening reflexively as he sat up straighter, bare chest hushing across her back. "I want there to be no doubt of my intent nor my feelings for you. I am your Guide. And you are my Sentinel. But I hope, in the coming days, you will let me learn of you. I think I would very much enjoy getting to know you properly."

She didn't have to see his expression to know he was smiling truly now. She felt it in the very heart of her as he turned her bodily and placed her on his lap – an effortless strength she wondered if he'd always possessed - so he could face her. Bringing her hand to his mouth in a kiss as he stirred in the sheets underneath her. Filling her mind with all sorts of unladylike imaginings as she planted her feet and considered what reaction she might get if she bore down.

"I couldn't agree more, my dear."

His reaction, as it turned out, was more than enthusiastic.

"I hope I wasn't too rough on you," he murmured, perhaps hours later. Blue eyes serious and swimming with concern. Clearly shaken at having acted out his pleasure in such a forward, animalistic way without the excuse of madness. Contrite and self-damning until she captured his attention and bade him to look down at his own skin. Now stained brilliant red amongst the freckles and occasional boyish scar with evidence of her passions.

"Not anymore rough than I to you," she returned, tracing down the line of a particularly deep furrow her nails had carved into his skin. Delighting in the savage idea of it when he quivered against her, strangling a groan that seemed all the more damning when he refused to let it free from his throat.

She shivered, though she was not cold. The marks glowing red in the low light like a staked claim as they looked at each other in clear wonderment. She felt her thoughts flow to her cheeks in a blush. Recalling their passion, their intimacy as words to describe the feelings welling up inside her fled completely. Leaving her bereft, captured cleanly by the solidness of his chest rising and falling against hers. Glutting herself on every inch of him as he ran a careful, wondering hand down the pale of her shoulder.

Their path had been chosen for them, and yet she couldn't bring herself to regret an inch of it. This was right. Fated. For once, her life felt precisely as it should be. Centering and wholesome as the firm of his member twitched with tired interest against her naked thigh.

Her Sentinel.

Soon to be her husband, of that she was quite sure.

Grandmother and Mother were probably ankle deep in planning already.

And judging by the way he still clasped her close, the feeling was more than mutual.

The thought alone made her smile.

Her Sentinel.

And how lucky they were for it, she decided. She watched him through the veil of her lashes, finding him more than pleasing, more than a match for her despite Mary's grousing earlier that afternoon. Because despite the baser nature of their union, despite the wants and needs of the Sentinel still churning in the back of his eyes, doubt was still present. Certain she was looking at a man whom papa would have termed as 'prone to falling on his own sword' if he thought it would better her in any way.

Huumph. There would be none of that if she had any say in it. Which, of course, she did, being his Guide. It was a strange thing but the reality of it was it gave her power. A queer sort of status not only in the outside world be here as well – solely between the two of them. For a Sentinel could no more part from their Guide than they could willfully abandon the territories they'd chosen to protect.

It was innate. Instinctual. She would be his, just as much as he would be hers. True until the day they died. Bonded pairs were not merely romantically suited, but they were soul matches. She would not take another – neither husband nor Sentinel any more than he could another wife or Guide if she fell ill and died tomorrow. For better or worse – in her opinion, better – they were stuck with one another. The idea was delightful as much as it was sobering. Their happiness would be brief in comparison to the years she'd likely spend without him, but she would be happy. That much was certain. And it was all she'd ever wanted.

"I'm afraid we've gone and done this rather the wrong way around, my darling," he managed after the long pause. As if sensing the nature of her thoughts and mirroring them as the sheets tangled becomingly around his calves, off-setting the soft ivory-cream against the dark blond hairs that covered them.

"Have we?" she returned, brow slanted with amused determination before she raised her hand and let her thumb brush down the strong line of his jaw. Nipples tightening as they remembered the rasp of barely-there stubble whisking across the sensitive peaks. Feeling herself throb heatedly as she recalled the way he'd played with her. Experienced and eager to please as she turned into a right puddling mess underneath him. "I disagree."

He simply smiled down at her, the expression made almost solely with his eyes, twinkling and decidedly wicked in a way she knew she already loved. Watching curiously as he cocked his head, as if listening to something far away. Watching as a boyish sort of wonder made tracks across his face. Already marveling over his newly acquired senses, no doubt.

This would be an adjustment. Not only for them, but for everyone.

She'd only ever met a bonded pair in passing once, a friend of papa's from the war the year after she'd been officially presented to society during their season in London. But she remembered every detail keenly. They'd made a stir wherever they went, eclipsing everything in their wake as they soaked in each other like a sponge. And for good reason, she'd never seen two people more suited for one another. Their manner and behavior had been shocking at first, unbridled and embarrassingly passionate to most of those around them. But not to papa.

It had been one of the few years she'd had her father's undivided attention, and she'd made good use of it. Begging for stories and his impressions of the pair. Mary had called her flighty and girlishly predicable, but she'd listened raptly with her all the same. Listening to their father speak - always quick to refill his brandy - as the hours fell away and he spun a tale she could scarcely believe when she woke the next morning to Gwen's soft signing - whisking open the curtains with a practised flick. Deciding to keep everything she'd learned close to her chest lest mama or Mary choose to mock her for it later.

How strange that she would find herself in the exact same position all these years later?

"Though, I hope you know I do expect you to ask me properly when we finally chance returning to the outside world," she remarked, cheekily. Leaning back against the pillows as he trailed a hand, hesitant and rapturous across her belly. Strong fingers turning devious and shy in turns as he arrowed up to cup her breast, rolling them into the sheets until she was underneath him once more – covered and safe. Learning her fully with all his senses as she centered him with barely a ripple. Ensuring he didn't lose himself in the moment and fall too deeply into the fugue state that so often plagued neglected Sentinels.

"My dear, I would bend a knee for you a hundred times over if you'll have me," he returned, leaning in to kiss her chastely. Tone ringing with an earnest, honest sort of affirmation that made something in her settle. Knowing in the very heart of her that he would too.

It was a grand feeling.

A/N: Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think. – This story is now complete. Thank you for all the welcomes and support I received with this story, I am considering making a small series out of this if there is interest.