Back to Sybil's POV :) As always, reviews are very welcome :)

Children

1908

"It's totally unfair," screamed an eleven years old Sybil and stomped her little foot.

"It was your idea," said Edith accusatorily.

"I don't think that we've done anything wrong," replied Sybil angrily, "It's no wrong to play in mud. Other children do so and are not scolded by any governesses."

Edith sighed. She also wished that they were not guarded all the time by Miss Catton, but didn't want to be anymore bold today and state it outloud.

Suddenly, the door opened and the eldest Crawley sister entered the nursery. She looked at her sisters' muddy dresses disapprovingly and said, "I see that it's true. I've heard Miss Catton talking to Papa about it. You're in for a good scolding from him too."

"Thank you for the news, Mary," Edith sneered.

Her sister ignored her. "Why you two cannot behave in a ladylike manner? Well, Sybil's just a baby..."

"I'm not," Sybil interrupted her.

"... but you Edith? How could you be so irresponsible?" Mary continued, ignoring her youngest sister's protest.

"At least I had a bit of fun, Little Miss Perfect," Edith hissed.

"Just not little, but thank you for the compliment," Mary responded and pointed at her snow white dress, "I'm a future Countess after all, and it's important for me to behave in accordance with good manners."

"But I will not be a Countess," Sybil declared forcefully, "and I don't care about manners. I just want to be free."

Mary laughed and stroked her baby sister's hair. "You will learn one day that none of us is truly free," she whispered thoughtfully.

"My children will be," stated Sybil decively," they will be free to play in mud and no one will scold them for it."

She knew that she would always remember about this promise.

1913

When she entered the garage, she found him deeply engrossed in a letter that lay on his lap. She also noticed that he was grinning widely.

"Hello, Branson."

He jumped from the bench. "Oh, it's just you milady!"

"Just me?" Sybil teased.

"I was worried... I wasn't paying any attention... It's my sister..." Branson stuttered.

"Your sister what?"

He smiled broadly and explained," She's given birth. I have a little nephew."

Sybil noted that he sounded very proud at this thought."Oh, congratulations!" she exclaimed cheerfully.

"I couldn't have been prouder. Only if I have my own children one day..."

"You will?" Sybil asked before she could help herself.

"I want to have them, yes," Branson replied confidently.

"Me too, but I first have to meet someone with whom I want to have them."

Unexpectedly, an awkward silence fell upon them. They both felt oddly embarrassed and didn't know what more to say.

Branson was the first one to break the silence, "You know? I've found a new article that might interest you..."

1917

It was another evening when she felt in that way. It was yet another evening when a visit to the garage had planted seedlings of mayhem in her head. Today Tom had received a letter from his sister, who had given birth to her second child. Sybil remembered when Megan Branson had given birth for the first time; she recalled that she and Tom had talked about whether they had wanted children. Even back then the conversation had been slightly awkward, but today... it had been torturous. Unvoiced dreams had unravelled before their eyes in a lovely yet forbidden vision. Well, forbidden for Sybil, denied for Tom.

She so wanted to have children with him. She so wanted to be a mother to their children, but at the same time was so afraid of this dream. At such times, she both loved and hated Tom. Hated him for filling her head and heart with those dreams and visions... and loved him for everything else.

The lovely vision of herself as Tom Branson's wife and a mother to his children couldn't leave her mind. She thought about bringing them up in a loving and free home. Yes, she would grant her children the freedom that she had been denied. And she was sure that Tom would support the idea as well. Of course, there would also be some discipline, but no silly rules and conventions that were enforced at Downton. She wanted her children to have their own minds and be independent, but at the same time to have strong morals. And she could so envision Tom's children to be like this...

Sybil Crawley cried herself to sleep that night.

1919

She checked whether everything had been prepared. Tom's favourite dinner? Yes. A bottle of wine? Yes. The sitting room was tidy? Yes. Happily, she noted that everything was just as it should be and sat on the nearby chair in anticipation.

But what if he does not take the news well? a sudden thought hit her. She hadn't pondered such a scenario before. She had also been a little taken aback by this news, but at the same time had not doubted for a minute that it had been happy news.

The door finally opened and Tom Branson entered the flat. Sybil rose from her place to greet him.

"Hello, darling," she murmured tenderly. Only then did the young wife spot that her husband's face was rather sorrowful.

"Bad day at work?" Sybil inquired.

"Really bad. My article was rejected," Tom replied and went to take his wife into a silent embrace.

When he released her, Sybil whispered, "Come, I've made your favourite stew."

Tom's face had to light up at this. With Sybil at his side, how could he be ever troubled by anything?

When they finished eating, they moved to the sitting room and sat on the couch, Sybil once more in Tom's strong arms.

"I've got a surprise for you," Sybil's voice suddenly broke the silence.

"Yes, love?"

Sybil disentangled herself from their embrace and approached a small cupboard, from which she withdrew a bottle of wine.

Tom was puzzled. "Is there any special occasion today? One of our anniversaries, maybe?"

That question was certainly a valid one because the Bransons had a habit of celebrating various milestones of their relationship. Heck, they had even celebrated the anniversary of the garden party when they had held hands for the first time!

"No, it's not an anniversary," replied Sybil as she poured her husband a glass of wine.

Tom was puzzled once more. "Only one glass? What about you?"

"I won't be drinking for some time, darling," Sybil said with a small smile, her anticipation growing.

A realization dawned on Tom. "It can't be... it is?" he looked at his wife quizzically.

Sybil only nodded and grinned at him joyuously. I'm happy and I hope that you're too was what her expression conveyed.

Tom couldn't keep her in doubt any longer. He smiled broadly and stood up to take the mother-to-be into his arms again and twirled her around happily. When he released her, they were both laughing.

Finally, Sybil and Tom returned to the couch and began talking about the news.

"Aren't you scared? Wouldn't you like to have some more time as a wife before you become a mother?" Tom asked, stroking Sybil's curls gently.

"I wouldn't mind having the baby later, but I'm happy with the turn of the events. It's so thrilling to think that we'll have a baby together. A little bit of you and me in one person."

"Yes, it is," Tom said in an undertone and looked curiously at his wife's stomach. It was still flat, but he reached out his hand and tenderly stroke it.

"Tom, you only make me giggle!" Sybil laughed, but she was enormously pleased by the gesture.

"And what about your work?"

"I'll continue to work after the birth, maybe not immediately, but after some time... Mrs. Connelly, one of the nurses at my hospital, has a little baby and continues to work... And you can write from home too at times. We'll manage it."

"Yes, we will," Tom assured her, but his face suddenly darkened.

Sybil was taken aback by this and asked silently,"What's the matter?"

"Your parents. They will certainly not approve of this. You working while you have a little child."

"I don't care what they think," Sybil stated firmly and gave her beloved a passionate kiss.

1930

She had already gone through this two times before, but this time it was different. Not because she gave birth to a boy instead of a girl, but because little Michael Branson was the first Branson child to be born on the Irish soil (Saoirse had been born at Downton and Patricia at their London flat).

Sybil pondered this fact cheerfully as she was holding Michael and cooing at him soothingly. She was waiting for Tom to bring Saoirse and Patricia to the bedroom, so that the girls could meet their brother.

When Saoirse and Patricia entered the room with their father, they stared at the bed in awe.

Saoirse, the bolder of the two, was the first to speak, "He's so sweet, Mama!"

Sybil smiled at Saoirse and gestured at the bed. The girls instantly ran to their mother and brother and sat next to them.

Proud Papa Tom also joined his girls and one boy and soon the Branson family was complete on the bed in their small Dublin flat, for the first time of many.

1931

Sybil was sitting with Mary in the library at Downton when the door unexpectedly opened, and the governess entered the room, with three little girls following suit.

"Excuse me, milady, but the children were misbehaving. Miss Saoirse, Miss Patricia and Miss Violet were playing in mud and their dresses got dirty," Miss Richardson announced.

Sybil and Mary looked at the girls, and indeed, mud was dripping from the supposedly white dresses.

Mary's brows furrowed."Thank you for informing us, Richardson. Now take the girls to the bathroom and change their dresses. Then send them to us," she ordered.

Richardson obediently led the children out of the room, leaving Sybil and Mary free to discuss the problem.

"Violet will need a good scolding from me! Playing in mud!" Mary exclaimed. "But I actually don't like scolding her," she added a second later.

"Then don't," Sybil proposed simply.

"You won't scold your daughters for what they've done?" the eldest Crawley sister inquired.

"No. I see no wrong in playing in mud and I want them to be free to do so if they wish."

"I see wrong in this..."

"So do what you want. Everyone's free to make their own choices, I say." Sybil declared with a small smile.