The holidays had certainly taken on new meaning for the Crawley family. It wasn't so much that the traditions had changed, but that they had expanded. With the children came a renewed sense of family and vitality that filled Downton with a warmth and energy it hadn't ever seen in its many, many years.

This Christmas was certainly no exception. The addition of the next generation to their family gatherings made everything more enjoyable as far as Edith was concerned, but decidedly more chaotic as well.

Edith was sitting on the floor with Mary, leaning against the sofa, laughing at their husbands. Edith's daughters were crawling all over their Papa as he defended them against Mary's son, Charlie, and Matthew, and their army of tin soldiers. Madeline and Sybil squealed in delight as Tom scooped them up and dropped them into the bedlam with a roar.

The Strallan girls had come in quick succession: Violet Mae, Imogen Rose, and Cora Marie, all within four years of each other. Now six, five, and four, all three of them were remarkably different, just as Edith and her sisters had been.

Violet was the image of Anthony, with her blonde curls and sparkling blue eyes, and she also seemed to have his quiet patience. Her nurturing side, which showed when she doted on her sisters, Anthony attributed to Edith. Genny-Rose, as Anthony had come to call her, had Edith's coloring and demanding impatience, and was fiercely loyal and brave. Little Cora was all sweetness and kindness, and was very much a Crawley with her dark hair and eyes.

What they had in common, Edith was overjoyed to see, was that they adored each other almost as much as their most beloved Papa. The three of them were always hand-in-hand, dancing in the great hall, or picking flowers in the garden, or skipping in the lawn, or following Anthony around enjoying his infinite patience. And oh, how Edith loved it when they would run to her excitedly shouting, "Mama, Mama!" She was hardly ever away from them, which is exactly how she preferred it.

And at night, when she and Anthony would put them to bed, and he would read to the girls from "Peter and Wendy" or on more adventurous nights, "The Jungle Book," Edith would watch her daughters listening to their Papa, and she would fall in love with him all over again.

"What game are they playing exactly?" Robert asked with a laugh, swirling his brandy in his hands.

"I don't know, but I think it's safe to say the gentlemen are losing," Mary replied. "Anyway, little Andy seems to be enjoying it," she added, bouncing her one-year-old nephew on her lap.

Robert Anthony had taken his time to arrive, born three years after Cora Marie, but came he did, giving Anthony the son he never thought he'd have. Lord Grantham had insisted the boy go by Anthony, and young Cora had quickly changed that to Andy, being unable to pronounce 'Anthony' properly.

Edith watched her son clapping with his Aunt Mary, a wide grin stretching into his chubby cheeks and displaying his six teeth, of which he seemed very proud. Of her four children, Andy was easily the most exuberant and it was only a matter of days before he went from crawling straight to running.

"Watch out for this one, he's a flirt," Mary laughed. "And rather daring, I'd guess. He'll run you ragged."

"No doubt," Edith laughed.

"I don't know how you two do it. Matthew and I have been wholly occupied with our Charlie, dear that he is, and that's just one. I don't know how you make do with four. Or," Mary said, dropping her voice, "with five."

"At this point what difference could another make? Anyway, we're thrilled. I can't imagine Locksley without them."

Mary was the only one besides Anthony who knew that Edith was expecting again.

"When are you going to make the announcement?"

"Over dessert, probably, though my having a child must be old news to everyone by now."

Mary arched one of those elegant eyebrows. "I do believe it is common practice for couples to sleep in separate rooms after the first is born, no?"

"Oh god, I'm sure it is. But when have I ever practiced what is common?"

"Good thing Anthony seems to be aging backwards," Mary giggled, looking back to the brawl. Charlie, who looked like he could be Cora Marie's twin, had just launched himself over Anthony's good shoulder with a sort of warrior cry.

It was true, too. Though he was closer to sixty than fifty, he had the brilliance and energy of some men half his age. "It's what the love of a good woman will do for an old codger," Anthony had said recently, as he and Edith enjoyed that glorious time when the children were asleep and the house was still and they were naked under their sheets as if they were back on honeymoon. "Time has laid down for us, my darling, at least for now."

Edith sighed, beaming.

"You're nauseating, truly," Mary teased, nudging her with a bony elbow.

"Oh my goodness, it's like my family's been taken over by a tribe of feral people," Cora laughed, entering the morning room after having checked on supper. Sitting on the sofa behind her daughters, Cora said more quietly, "Could you imagine what your Granny would have said at this display?"

It would be three years in March since Granny had passed. She'd gone quite peacefully in her sleep. Perhaps the only thing she'd ever done peacefully, Edith thought wryly. Still, Lady Violet was sorely missed by her middle granddaughter, and probably always would be.

Anthony, slightly winded and laughing jovially, freed himself from the pile of children and crawled over to his wife. "You'll have to check for battle wounds later," he joked, kissing her cheek as he settled beside her.

"Promise?" she flirted, sending Mary's eyes rolling.

"Pappy," Madeline called, rushing to Robert. "When can we open our presents?"

"After luncheon, like every year," he answered sternly, trying to sound like the stuffy old man he imagined himself to be. But Edith noticed when he bent down and kissed Madeline on the top of her head.

"Your children are out of control," Anthony said to Edith and Mary. "They're like jungle animals, really. I'm afraid they'll never be assimilated into society."

"For which I blame you, Anthony" Mary laughed, handing off the baby to Edith. Addressing the children as she stood, she said, "Come, darlings, let's go wash our hands before we eat."

The five young ladies and Charlie followed the ever-beautiful Mary out of the room obediently.

"They're not animals. They're lovely and very well behaved," Cora said, reaching for Andy.

"For a madhouse, yeah," Tom laughed, "The whole lot of 'em." He and Matthew went to pour themselves a drink.

Cora, pressing her cheek to Andy's little blonde head said softly to Edith and Anthony, "You can joke, but I can't remember why I ever doubted you. Your children are dears."

Edith squeezed Anthony's hand, proud as ever of their little brood.

It was well past ten when the Strallans returned to Locksley that night. Cora and Andy were already asleep, and Violet and Genny weren't far behind. With the children tucked in, and a thin dusting of snow falling outside, Edith sat down to write Anthony her daily letter. They had trunks full of them at this point, dated and organized as most things were in Anthony's world.

She wrote in it of their day, of their customary Christmas pre-dawn love making, of the immense pride she felt, and how excited she was for the next baby.

I have a feeling, just as I had with our other four children, about this baby's gender. But I'm not going to tell you. I'm going to try and keep it a secret and see how long it takes before you read it on my face. I'm guessing you'll know by noon tomorrow.

Oh, I love you Anthony. Never in my life did I dream I could love so much. Mrs. Bass once said I had room enough in my heart for a dozen children. While I have a feeling this child will be our last, I think she had a point. Each time I think my heart is so full and big my chest can barely contain it, you smile, or hold one of our girls, and I realize it just keeps expanding.

Tonight, as you tucked Genny into bed, she asked you to kiss her rabbit goodnight. And you did, quite gladly. And you whispered, "good night my dearest girls," as you left the room. I don't know if you realize how rare you are, or how lucky my children are to have you as their father. But I know, and I will remind you of it every day for the rest of our lives.

If tomorrow we found ourselves destitute and friendless, living in a one bedroom shack, I think I would be the happiest and most charmed woman on earth. (Easy to say, of course, because you provide for us brilliantly and as I write I'm sitting in front of the crackling fire in our bedroom. Still, I think you understand me.)

Speaking of tomorrow, Mama and Papa are coming for tea and the farrier will be here all day shoeing the ponies. If the weather holds, I was thinking of having the children sit with their Grandparents so we could take one of our drives out to the creek, or a walk along the back orchard. It might be frightfully cold, but I'm certain we'll manage to stave off frostbite if we get terribly creative. And if all else fails, there's always the rather roomy tub in my bathroom.

You've just thrown your tie to the floor, a sure sign that bed is imminent while sleep is decidedly not. Even now I feel the giddy anticipation of that first night in the London house. Do you remember? Of course you do. But it's strange to think that those two people, so nervous and shy and lost, are now Anthony and Edith—parents of four (five) and still scandalizing poor old Edwards every other time we're left alone.

Merry Christmas, my darling Anthony, and thank you for making each and every day a treat. I'm thinking I will reward you now in the most mutually beneficial way I know, and when you read this tomorrow you'll blush at the memory.

Always and unreservedly,

Your Edith

When Edith and Anthony fell asleep that night, they had no way of knowing what the next decades would bring. They didn't plan on opening their home to dozens of children during Operation Pied Piper, or to investing rather successfully in the hotel Anna and John Bates took over.

They didn't know that Violet would grow up to find love quite nearby, and that after the Second World War returned Jack Bates safely to Grantham village, that Anna and Edith would finally become related as mothers-in-law. Or that Genny-Bell, always driven, stubborn, and brilliant as her father, would become one of the first women to teach at Oxford. Or that Cora would become a very painter whose most favorite subject was the grounds of Locksley.

And had Edith and Anthony known that after they passed, their beloved son Andy would find and publish their letters in three volumes as the ultimate testament of endurance and courage, they probably would have left out a few of the more intimate details.

Neither did they know, or care to know, that Anthony would surprise everyone, including himself, by living to the age of ninety and never once losing the youthfulness Edith gave him. Or that Edith would follow him so shortly thereafter, as her children suspected she would, unable to live without him for more than a few weeks.

Nor did Edith and Anthony know that their youngest, Evelyn Louise, and all of the Strallan children would benefit so completely from the love their parents shared. They did not know that at Lady Edith Strallan's wake Evvy would stand and say of her mother,

"Mama was a resplendent beauty, and it never faded. Happiness does wonderful things for a person, and she and Papa were happy every single day of our lives. That kind of love, well it's contagious. It's impossible not to be affected by it. My parents loved each other so well, so gloriously well, that it sort of spilled over onto all of us. They cared for us with such joy and kindness that even the hard things were manageable.

"Even from a young age, I used to watch Mama and Papa, and I was aware of their particular way with each other. We all were. They were like magnets. Everything they did, everywhere they went, they moved together, functioned together as one. And we, as their children, were lucky enough to be with them.

"A childhood marked with adventures and outings and games, Mama refused to let us wilt in classist boredom. And Papa was delighted by all of it. I think he was utterly, gladly bewildered by her until the day he died.

"Once in a rare while something magic happens between two people. And that magic will last for generations. My children feel it, I think, and my nieces and nephews. And their children will feel it. They will benefit from the love of Edith and Anthony Strallan as my siblings and I do. We're all terribly, terribly lucky.

"My mother, her beauty and her generosity of spirit, though she is no longer with us, they live on. I've no doubt at all that she and our beloved Papa are still together. Even now, even as we sit here I can feel it. Nothing is lost, or can be lost, when you love the way my Mama and Papa loved."

No, that night as Edith and Anthony drifted off, they thought only of their sleeping children, and the one on the way, and their little plans for tomorrow, and for the New Year's party at Downton, and how absolutely content they were just to be lying in each other's arms.

A/N: I never, ever intended for this little jaunt to last 31 chapters and 60k words. It's a little crazy, really, looking back on it. But I am truly overjoyed and honored that you all followed it with me. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

At the suggestion and encouragement of Jo, I will be doing a modern A/U where a slightly different Edith and Anthony meet in the world of academia, and I think we'll find that two people can be right for each other in any century. :)

Thank you again, lovely Andith Shippers and FanFic Readers. This first exercise in this little niche of a writing world has been a real joy.

Happy holidays, and best wishes.
Eleanor.