#mosteyn

[christmaswiththebransons]

A Secret Santa gift for Scarletcourt ! The request was for a story with characters from her continuation series "The Bransons in London" and "Listening to the wireless". Its turned out to be a bit of a monster, so I am afraid I am breaking the rules and it won't be a one shot - but I hope you enjoy it ! Its set at Christmas, 1940.

Mosteyn’s story for @scarletcourt

[yankeecountess]

Some scenes of from Ireland before the wedding, plus a scene seven years later when Sybil finds out that her father tried to bribe Tom.

The Sybil x Tom Secret Santa Exchange is STILL going! :oD And here’s a lovely fic by Mosteyn written for @cassiemortmain

Happy New Year and Merry Christmas, always!

[yankeecountess]

In 1926, Sybil and Tom look back on their first valentine's together

"When I was a little girl, I used to think being married was going to be so romantic," she smiled."I was going to meet a Prince, and he'd fall in love with me and whisk me off to his castle and we'd live happily ever after."

"And then you met the chauffeur and fell in love with him and he whisked you off to a tiny flat in Ireland instead."

"Which was even more romantic than I had imagined," she smiled.

"That freezing, tiny flat ?"

She nodded.

"I have very fond memories of that flat."

She felt his chest vibrate and looked up to see him grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

"Oh, so do I, love, so do I !"

A Valentine fic by Mosteyn, written for syblime

[christmaswiththebransons]

Sybil and Tom try to celebrate Christmas in their own way while living at Downton.

JessieBess’ story for mosteyn; part of the Sybil/Tom Secret Santa exchange!

[christmaswiththebransons]

Its New Year, 1933 and all those Christmases and family holidays at Downton are finally taking their toll on Tom

Mosteyn’s Sybil/Tom Secret Santa fic for wslowry

[yankeecountess]

"What about this one ?"

He's pulled out a plainer red model, still smart and sturdy, but with practical black tyres and a plain brown saddle. It was almost half the price of the other one. Sybil tipped her head on one side, trying to give it a fair chance.

"I can jazz it up a bit," he said, inspecting the ends of the handlebars. "It would be easy enough to put some ribbons on and get a bell for it."

"How much is it ?"

"Twelve pounds."

Still more than some of people had to live on for a month. Sybil knew this. Only this morning she had admitted a man from Bolton who was the same age as Tom. He had lost three fingers in the mechanized loom in the mill where he worked. There would be no new bicycles for his children this year or the next, if ever.

"Is there nothing else suitable ?"

They looked at a few more, but discarded them as being too big, too heavy or one occasion, shoddily made according to Tom, returning in the end to the red one he had pulled out earlier. Sybil sighed, trailing her fingers lightly over the blue bicycle, as if saying a sorry farewell to it.

"Alright. I suppose we have to be sensible."

He gave her a small, apologetic smile. It was a victory he took no pleasure in if it left her disappointed. But she briskly put her disappointment to one side as she summoned a floor walker to take it to the till and turned her attention to Aoife's present.

A bewildering array of prams was artfully arranged in front of a large collection of dolls, whose baby-like features and stiff immobility made him think disturbingly of tiny corpses. Sybil seemed unconcerned by the little army of lifeless bodies and was busy comparing the various carriages on offer. The one she was hovering over was a handsome shiny black vehicle with silver coloured scrolling on the side and a black oilskin collapsible hood – very like the one he had seen Nanny wheeling George and Peter about in at Downton. Sybil extended a couple of fingers and gingerly rolled it back and forth. The carriage bounced a little; it was even sprung like the real thing. She equally gingerly looked at the price tag. Tom let out a low whistle.

"Seven guineas for a doll's pram !"

"Please ?" she pleaded.

"Don't you think it's a little big for her ?" he said, but he knew that with the compromise over the bicycle, this battle was already lost.

"She'll be able to reach, and she'll grow into it," she said confidently. "And the other ones aren't nearly as nice," she said, scanning the remaining stock. "Please, Tom, it's the first Christmas that she really understands what is going on. Niamh will have her bike, so I want her to have something special too. And you can fix it if she breaks it," she added confidently.

Tom raised an eyebrow, but was smiling underneath it.

"When she breaks it, you mean. She's a bit like a bull in a china shop, our little one."

Sybil couldn't deny the truth of this.

"We can always use some of Papa's ….."

"No. It's more than we wanted to pay, but we can afford it, if we don't go overboard with the rest of it. And she'll like it," he said, thinking of his daughter's face lighting up on Christmas Day. Beside him, Sybil beamed.

"Let's go and pay for it, then."

--from “All I Want for Christmas” by mosteyn

25 days of Bransons CHRISTMAS fanfic moments Day 15

[yankeecountess]

"Sybil ?"

She placed her hands in her lap and looked up at him.

"You know I've been feeling so tired lately ?"

"Yes," he said cautiously.

"Well, I went to see Lucy Ramsdale at lunchtime."

"Oh."

"I think you'd better sit down. There's something I need to tell you."

The colour drained from his face and he felt himself go cold all over. He remained where he was, unable to move.

"What's the matter ?" he whispered.

Sybil looked at him and could see the fear in his eyes. She knew what he was thinking, but somehow the news she was about to give him seemed equally devastating. Her eyes started to fill with tears.

"Oh, God, Sybil - "

"I'm pregnant !" she blurted out.

He stared at her, too startled by what she had just said to be relieved.

"Pregnant ?"

She nodded, the tears now falling freely.

"Pregnant ?" Confusion was etched in every line of his face as he watched her wipe her nose with the back of her hand as she nodded again. He pulled the chair back and sat down beside her very slowly, as if stunned. Sybil wondered if her father had looked like this when her mother had announced her late pregnancy. He nodded back at her.

"Pregnant."

"Are you upset about it ?" she said in a small voice, not really daring to ask.

A small, curious smile appeared, tugging his mouth sideways into a lopsided grin.

"No," he said softly, "not at all. I'm just a bit surprised…..I mean, we've been careful…"

"Not careful enough, evidently."

The looked at each other for a moment and then suddenly, Tom broke into a grin could have lit up the whole street.

"We're going to have a baby !"

"So you're pleased ?"

"Of course I'm pleased ! God, Sybil, I thought you were going to tell me you were ill….but a baby…" he shook his head, still not quite being able to believe it.

"I know its rather unexpected, but….."

"It's wonderful."

"Oh darling ! I'm so relieved !" Sybil launched herself out of her chair and into his arms, pulling herself onto his lap. He held her close, kissing her forehead as he did so.

"I was so worried you would hate it. It's going to be such a big disruption to our lives….."

"Well, its not as if I didn't have anything to do with it," he smiled ruefully, " and we'll manage. We did before."

"You really don't mind ?"

"Of course not !"

She reached up to stroke his cheek, then leant forward to kiss him properly, a mixture of relief and thanks. When he broke away it was only far enough to rub noses with her.

"Another baby…." he said in wonder. He sat up suddenly, pulling a little away from her to regard her critically.

"When is it due ?"

"September"

"And are you alright ? You've not been sick ?"

She shook her head.

"Not like with Aoife."

"Oh God," he muttered at the mention of one of his daughters, "we'll have to tell the girls…what are they going to think ? "

Sybil rolled her eyes.

"I should think they'll be horrified by the evidence that their parents …." she trailed off. They looked at each other and then both burst out laughing.

"Oh Lord," she said, "I was twenty-six when I was last pregnant."

"Don't worry," he said, pulling her closer. "We'll look after you. Me and the girls."

--from “The Unexpected” by Mosteyn

60 Days of Bransons-Fanfic Moments Day 13

[christmaswiththebransons]

Tom, Sweet Tom by 0madlen0 (a Sybil/Tom Secret Santa fic for mosteyn)

The Bransons plan for a quiet Christmas Eve is quickly interrupted (and turned upside down) by several "unexpected visitors"...