Work Text
Over the years, Misselthwaite Manor — the house itself, with all it's intricacies and complexities, stairs and attics, corridors and parapets and cellars, chambers of state and rooms public and private, grand and bare — became as much a participant in the lives of Mary and Colin, Dickon and Mrs Medlock, even Master Archibald, as the garden or the people it sheltered. It was more than stone and slate and plaster, carved wood and leaded glass. Just as outside the grounds nourished spirit and body, the house fed mind and heart. The foundation, walls and roof warded all within, weathering all storms.