Post by Lady Mage on Feb 26, 2007 21:10:43 GMT -5
Summary: Elizabeth is going to marry Mr. Collins but decides not to and runs out of the church. Darcy follows her, and sits down on one side of sycamore tree...
Rating:T
Disclaimer: I do not own Pride and Prejudice and never will.
The Question Game
A pale, sweating Elizabeth Bennet stood at the altar next to the worst bridegroom in the world- Mr. Collins. She didn’t quite understand why she had accepted his offer of marriage… she had wished a million times in the last few days that she had said a word beginning with ‘n’. No, she thought. No.
“Do you accept this man as your husband, and promise to love him forever, till death do you part?” asked the minister.
“I do,” replied Elizabeth, and paused, taking in the reality of what she said. Before the minister could turn to Mr. Collins, and ask for his vow, Elizabeth jumped in hastily and added “not” to her previous statement.
There was a moment of dead silence, then the whole room started talking. Mrs. Bennet fainted. Mr. Bennet looked aghast at his daughter. He had thought that she had loved this man! He must have been too busy in being rejoiceful that he would get to keep his estate in his family, that he was oblivious to his favorite daughter’s feelings on the matter of her marriage to Mr. Collins.
Elizabeth looked a moment at the stunned faces all around her, the faces that were whispering malicious gossip about her, the faces that told her that they would have expected this behavior from Lydia, but never from ‘good old reliable Lizzy’… the faces of her old friends. She made her way back down the aisle, and out of the church.
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What had just happened? Had Elizabeth Bennett just refused William Collins, heir to her family’s estate? Could this be possible? Mr. Darcy’s feelings were in an uproar. He… he… he… he LOVED her, by George!
Mr. Darcy turned to Mr. Bingley to make his excuses, but Bingley was already gone, reappearing at Jane’s side moments later. He was comforting her, Darcy knew that much, and what he said must have made the normally subdued Miss Bennet very happy, because she leaped up, and threw her arms around him.
Mr. Bingley and Miss Bennet got up from their seats, and made their way over to Mr. Bennet. At this point, Darcy was getting suspicious… normally he let each man go about their business, but from the look of things, it appeared that Jane and Mr. Bingley were going to get married that very hour, in that very church, by the special license that Mr. Collins had got for his own marriage.
Darcy’s suspicious were confirmed when Mr. Bingley and Jane made their way up to the altar and began to converse with the minister. A moment later the minister announced to the audience that they were about to witness the marriage of a Mr. Bingley to a Miss Bennet.
That was enough for Darcy. Elizabeth was out there, probably crying her heart out. He needed to find her, and comfort her. He stood, oblivious to Miss Bingley’s catch on his sleeve and her saying that she didn’t want her brother to marry that horrible Bennet girl either. Finally, Mr. Darcy came to, and realized where he was, and the situation he was in. He was standing with Miss Bingley in the back row of the church, talking. The minister looked enquiringly at Mr. Darcy. “Would you like to get married too,” he asked, mistaking them for another pair of young lovers.
“Yes,” said Miss Bingley at the same time Mr. Darcy said “No”. The room began to quiet again as it took in what Mr. Darcy had said. To propose to a woman, and then refuse to marry her? How extraordinarily rude. He must be forced to marry her then, or be sued for breach of promise.
The minister looked at the expectant crowd, and paused. He knew that expression of annoyance and being wronged that was on Darcy’s face at that moment. The minister watched; the whole room watched; even Jane and Mr. Bingley paused from their absorption with each other to watch.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Mr. Darcy peeled Miss Bingley’s hand off his arm. He tipped his hat in the general direction of everyone present, and left the church without saying a word to Miss Bingley.
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Outside, Darcy took a deep breath. he could not believe how close he’d come to marrying… Caroline Bingley. He was glad he had left when he did, one more moment or two, and… well, he didn’t really want to think about it.
He needed to find Elizabeth. Where had she disappeared to? Goodness knew she had her haunts. The problem was that he didn’t know where they were. He decided to sit down on one side of a giant sycamore to rest while he thought of a plan to find Elizabeth.
A voice came from behind his saying, “Who is that?” someone must be sitting on the other side of the tree, he thought. He swiveled his head to either side, but could not see anyone because of the tree’s girth, so he decided to play along with whoever it was.
“Does it matter?” he asked, feeling cheeky, exuberant, and playful. After all, this person didn’t know who he was. He could do and say whatever he wanted. The thought made him even happier.
“Do I want to know?” asked the voice from the other side of the tree, now sounding somewhat frustrated.
He responded in kind with a, “Do I want to tell you?” This was great. He felt a feeling he hadn’t felt in years spring up in him.
“Are you the prince-regent?” the voice asked, suddenly sounding a little feminine… although, to be quite honest, Darcy wasn’t sure if he knew the difference between this voice, a man’s voice, and a woman’s voice.
“Are you the Princess of Wales, Caroline?” he countered.
“Are you allowed to copy my questions?” the voice asked.
“Oh, is there a rulebook to this ‘game’?” he enquired.
“Have I degraded this conversation to ‘game’ status or was that your doing?” the voice asked, now playful.
Ooh, that was a tough one. How to get back at her (for Darcy was becoming increasingly convinced that the voice belonged to a woman), but while asking a question. He’d played this game at Oxford, and had been bad at it there, but this woman brought out the wit in him.
Finally, he asked, “Was this ever a conversation with you an active participant?”
“Shall we call it a game then, since you’re here?” the voice asked.
“Would you call it a game if I wasn’t here?” he asked. He was feeling incredibly powerful and witty. This light banter was healing his hard heart. He felt all alive again, as he hadn’t done since Mr. Wickham had tried to elope with Georgiana.
“How would it be anything, if you were not present?” she said, making him blush. She probably didn’t know who she was talking to.
“Would you be sitting here if I was not in this general area?” he asked. There. Good way to find out who she was.
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Elizabeth was having the time of her life, conversing with a stranger who was on the opposite side of the tree. They were playing a game of questions where you conversed by only asking questions… answering them was not allowed.
But he had just asked a tough question. Would she be sitting there if he hadn’t been in the general area that day? Well, to answer it, she would have to know who he was. Seeing several faces had influenced her decision to not marry Mr. Collins. How was she to know if he was one of them, never having seen his face during their lengthy discourse?
She decided to be bold and asked, “Will you tell me who you are?”
The stranger seemed to pause, then said with great slowness, “If I tell you this, will you tell me who you are?”
Elizabeth considered, breathless. “Yes.” she said, heart thumping.
The stranger seemed surprised that she had consented. “Very well,” he finally said, with gravity. “Close your eyes, and I’ll close mine whilst I come around this tree. Then we can both open our eyes at the same moment.”
Elizabeth thought about this, then nodded her head. The she realized that the stranger couldn’t see her nod, so she said, “Yes, I’m closing them.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes and implored all her hearing abilities towards his coming to her. Apparently, he was trying to grope his way around the tree with his eyes closed, for there were many loud clunks as he stumbled on a tree root. Finally, he was almost there… she could sense his presence, and then there was another clunk as his foot hit a tree root.
This time, however, the stranger did not regain his balance. He fell right on top of her! She quickly scrambled out from under him, eyes still closed, feeling keenly the impropriety of it all. The stranger, however, had obviously opened his eyes, for he said, “Good God, Lizzy”, while reaching for her, then withdrew and apologized. Elizabeth the opened her eyes, and saw, much to her surprise that it was not some country bumpkin, as she had assumed, but Mr. Darcy himself!
She felt the heat rising to her cheeks. She had just had fun with Mr. Darcy and flirted with him some as well! She must remember that he was an arrogant toad.
But remembering that she disliked him, and remembering why, was still past Elizabeth at this moment, for although she was not directly under him anymore, their legs were still tangled together. When she put a hand down on the ground so she could lift herself up, Darcy put his hand on top of hers.
“Why did you walk out?” he asked, looking into her enquiring face.
“Who would want to marry Mr. Collins?” she asked him in return, shrugging.
“Why did you consent then?” Darcy asked.
“Have you ever called yourself stupid?” she asked, shrugging again, not meeting his eyes.
“Many times”, he said, not seeming to care that by stating that he just forfeited the game. “Every day, for the last month.” He frowned, the smiled, and looked at her again. “But maybe I’m not so stupid after all.”
His smile was overpowering, and she found herself returning it. But only for a minute. Then she was serious again, and wondering what he had just said. She finally spoke.
“I never thought I would hear the great Mr. Darcy call himself stupid,” she commented.
“As I said before, maybe I’m not so stupid,” he persisted, “Maybe it was a good thing you accepted to refuse… I should have trusted in you the whole time.”
“What does you stupidity have to do with me?” Elizabeth asked, now angry. She was beginning to remember why she hated him.
Mr. Darcy seemed to realize that he had said too much, and was silent for a time.
“Well,” he finally said, “You’re agreeing to marry Mr. Collins-”
“I did agree” Elizabeth put in hotly, “but then I couldn’t withdraw when I realized it was a mistake. There was too much pressure, you see…”
“Ah,” said Mr. Darcy. “Well, anyways, you’re agreeing to marry Mr. Collins made me… realize how much I was to marry you myself.”
Elizabeth stared at him, forgetting her hatred for him again. “You… WHAT?” her mouth dropped open.
Darcy grinned at her. “Elizabeth Bennet, will you do me the great honor of consenting to be my wife?”
Elizabeth couldn’t resist. She had never seen the dull and staid, proud and haughty Mr. Darcy smile at anyone before, and especially not in such a dazzling way. Before Elizabeth knew what she was doing, she had re-entered the church and was walking down the aisle on Mr. Darcy’s arm.
“I pronounce you man and wife,” said the minister to Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. “Mr. Darcy, you may kiss the bride.” And Mr. Darcy did.
Any worries Elizabeth had had about their marriage soon faded away with that kiss and the ones following it. In a dream, she said goodbye to her astounded family and wedding guests, and to Mr. Collins who was complaining that the Bingleys and the Darcys had used his special license for the marriage ceremony. Darcy, looking around could not locate Caroline Bingley anywhere- she had fainted and been pushed unceremoniously under the table by the ever-kind, now Jane Bingley.
The next day, gossip was all over Town.
A/N: And by Town, the only obvious answer is Londontown. LOL. So, ta ta for now, love,
Magewhisperer
Rating:T
Disclaimer: I do not own Pride and Prejudice and never will.
The Question Game
A pale, sweating Elizabeth Bennet stood at the altar next to the worst bridegroom in the world- Mr. Collins. She didn’t quite understand why she had accepted his offer of marriage… she had wished a million times in the last few days that she had said a word beginning with ‘n’. No, she thought. No.
“Do you accept this man as your husband, and promise to love him forever, till death do you part?” asked the minister.
“I do,” replied Elizabeth, and paused, taking in the reality of what she said. Before the minister could turn to Mr. Collins, and ask for his vow, Elizabeth jumped in hastily and added “not” to her previous statement.
There was a moment of dead silence, then the whole room started talking. Mrs. Bennet fainted. Mr. Bennet looked aghast at his daughter. He had thought that she had loved this man! He must have been too busy in being rejoiceful that he would get to keep his estate in his family, that he was oblivious to his favorite daughter’s feelings on the matter of her marriage to Mr. Collins.
Elizabeth looked a moment at the stunned faces all around her, the faces that were whispering malicious gossip about her, the faces that told her that they would have expected this behavior from Lydia, but never from ‘good old reliable Lizzy’… the faces of her old friends. She made her way back down the aisle, and out of the church.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
What had just happened? Had Elizabeth Bennett just refused William Collins, heir to her family’s estate? Could this be possible? Mr. Darcy’s feelings were in an uproar. He… he… he… he LOVED her, by George!
Mr. Darcy turned to Mr. Bingley to make his excuses, but Bingley was already gone, reappearing at Jane’s side moments later. He was comforting her, Darcy knew that much, and what he said must have made the normally subdued Miss Bennet very happy, because she leaped up, and threw her arms around him.
Mr. Bingley and Miss Bennet got up from their seats, and made their way over to Mr. Bennet. At this point, Darcy was getting suspicious… normally he let each man go about their business, but from the look of things, it appeared that Jane and Mr. Bingley were going to get married that very hour, in that very church, by the special license that Mr. Collins had got for his own marriage.
Darcy’s suspicious were confirmed when Mr. Bingley and Jane made their way up to the altar and began to converse with the minister. A moment later the minister announced to the audience that they were about to witness the marriage of a Mr. Bingley to a Miss Bennet.
That was enough for Darcy. Elizabeth was out there, probably crying her heart out. He needed to find her, and comfort her. He stood, oblivious to Miss Bingley’s catch on his sleeve and her saying that she didn’t want her brother to marry that horrible Bennet girl either. Finally, Mr. Darcy came to, and realized where he was, and the situation he was in. He was standing with Miss Bingley in the back row of the church, talking. The minister looked enquiringly at Mr. Darcy. “Would you like to get married too,” he asked, mistaking them for another pair of young lovers.
“Yes,” said Miss Bingley at the same time Mr. Darcy said “No”. The room began to quiet again as it took in what Mr. Darcy had said. To propose to a woman, and then refuse to marry her? How extraordinarily rude. He must be forced to marry her then, or be sued for breach of promise.
The minister looked at the expectant crowd, and paused. He knew that expression of annoyance and being wronged that was on Darcy’s face at that moment. The minister watched; the whole room watched; even Jane and Mr. Bingley paused from their absorption with each other to watch.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Mr. Darcy peeled Miss Bingley’s hand off his arm. He tipped his hat in the general direction of everyone present, and left the church without saying a word to Miss Bingley.
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Outside, Darcy took a deep breath. he could not believe how close he’d come to marrying… Caroline Bingley. He was glad he had left when he did, one more moment or two, and… well, he didn’t really want to think about it.
He needed to find Elizabeth. Where had she disappeared to? Goodness knew she had her haunts. The problem was that he didn’t know where they were. He decided to sit down on one side of a giant sycamore to rest while he thought of a plan to find Elizabeth.
A voice came from behind his saying, “Who is that?” someone must be sitting on the other side of the tree, he thought. He swiveled his head to either side, but could not see anyone because of the tree’s girth, so he decided to play along with whoever it was.
“Does it matter?” he asked, feeling cheeky, exuberant, and playful. After all, this person didn’t know who he was. He could do and say whatever he wanted. The thought made him even happier.
“Do I want to know?” asked the voice from the other side of the tree, now sounding somewhat frustrated.
He responded in kind with a, “Do I want to tell you?” This was great. He felt a feeling he hadn’t felt in years spring up in him.
“Are you the prince-regent?” the voice asked, suddenly sounding a little feminine… although, to be quite honest, Darcy wasn’t sure if he knew the difference between this voice, a man’s voice, and a woman’s voice.
“Are you the Princess of Wales, Caroline?” he countered.
“Are you allowed to copy my questions?” the voice asked.
“Oh, is there a rulebook to this ‘game’?” he enquired.
“Have I degraded this conversation to ‘game’ status or was that your doing?” the voice asked, now playful.
Ooh, that was a tough one. How to get back at her (for Darcy was becoming increasingly convinced that the voice belonged to a woman), but while asking a question. He’d played this game at Oxford, and had been bad at it there, but this woman brought out the wit in him.
Finally, he asked, “Was this ever a conversation with you an active participant?”
“Shall we call it a game then, since you’re here?” the voice asked.
“Would you call it a game if I wasn’t here?” he asked. He was feeling incredibly powerful and witty. This light banter was healing his hard heart. He felt all alive again, as he hadn’t done since Mr. Wickham had tried to elope with Georgiana.
“How would it be anything, if you were not present?” she said, making him blush. She probably didn’t know who she was talking to.
“Would you be sitting here if I was not in this general area?” he asked. There. Good way to find out who she was.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Elizabeth was having the time of her life, conversing with a stranger who was on the opposite side of the tree. They were playing a game of questions where you conversed by only asking questions… answering them was not allowed.
But he had just asked a tough question. Would she be sitting there if he hadn’t been in the general area that day? Well, to answer it, she would have to know who he was. Seeing several faces had influenced her decision to not marry Mr. Collins. How was she to know if he was one of them, never having seen his face during their lengthy discourse?
She decided to be bold and asked, “Will you tell me who you are?”
The stranger seemed to pause, then said with great slowness, “If I tell you this, will you tell me who you are?”
Elizabeth considered, breathless. “Yes.” she said, heart thumping.
The stranger seemed surprised that she had consented. “Very well,” he finally said, with gravity. “Close your eyes, and I’ll close mine whilst I come around this tree. Then we can both open our eyes at the same moment.”
Elizabeth thought about this, then nodded her head. The she realized that the stranger couldn’t see her nod, so she said, “Yes, I’m closing them.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes and implored all her hearing abilities towards his coming to her. Apparently, he was trying to grope his way around the tree with his eyes closed, for there were many loud clunks as he stumbled on a tree root. Finally, he was almost there… she could sense his presence, and then there was another clunk as his foot hit a tree root.
This time, however, the stranger did not regain his balance. He fell right on top of her! She quickly scrambled out from under him, eyes still closed, feeling keenly the impropriety of it all. The stranger, however, had obviously opened his eyes, for he said, “Good God, Lizzy”, while reaching for her, then withdrew and apologized. Elizabeth the opened her eyes, and saw, much to her surprise that it was not some country bumpkin, as she had assumed, but Mr. Darcy himself!
She felt the heat rising to her cheeks. She had just had fun with Mr. Darcy and flirted with him some as well! She must remember that he was an arrogant toad.
But remembering that she disliked him, and remembering why, was still past Elizabeth at this moment, for although she was not directly under him anymore, their legs were still tangled together. When she put a hand down on the ground so she could lift herself up, Darcy put his hand on top of hers.
“Why did you walk out?” he asked, looking into her enquiring face.
“Who would want to marry Mr. Collins?” she asked him in return, shrugging.
“Why did you consent then?” Darcy asked.
“Have you ever called yourself stupid?” she asked, shrugging again, not meeting his eyes.
“Many times”, he said, not seeming to care that by stating that he just forfeited the game. “Every day, for the last month.” He frowned, the smiled, and looked at her again. “But maybe I’m not so stupid after all.”
His smile was overpowering, and she found herself returning it. But only for a minute. Then she was serious again, and wondering what he had just said. She finally spoke.
“I never thought I would hear the great Mr. Darcy call himself stupid,” she commented.
“As I said before, maybe I’m not so stupid,” he persisted, “Maybe it was a good thing you accepted to refuse… I should have trusted in you the whole time.”
“What does you stupidity have to do with me?” Elizabeth asked, now angry. She was beginning to remember why she hated him.
Mr. Darcy seemed to realize that he had said too much, and was silent for a time.
“Well,” he finally said, “You’re agreeing to marry Mr. Collins-”
“I did agree” Elizabeth put in hotly, “but then I couldn’t withdraw when I realized it was a mistake. There was too much pressure, you see…”
“Ah,” said Mr. Darcy. “Well, anyways, you’re agreeing to marry Mr. Collins made me… realize how much I was to marry you myself.”
Elizabeth stared at him, forgetting her hatred for him again. “You… WHAT?” her mouth dropped open.
Darcy grinned at her. “Elizabeth Bennet, will you do me the great honor of consenting to be my wife?”
Elizabeth couldn’t resist. She had never seen the dull and staid, proud and haughty Mr. Darcy smile at anyone before, and especially not in such a dazzling way. Before Elizabeth knew what she was doing, she had re-entered the church and was walking down the aisle on Mr. Darcy’s arm.
“I pronounce you man and wife,” said the minister to Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. “Mr. Darcy, you may kiss the bride.” And Mr. Darcy did.
Any worries Elizabeth had had about their marriage soon faded away with that kiss and the ones following it. In a dream, she said goodbye to her astounded family and wedding guests, and to Mr. Collins who was complaining that the Bingleys and the Darcys had used his special license for the marriage ceremony. Darcy, looking around could not locate Caroline Bingley anywhere- she had fainted and been pushed unceremoniously under the table by the ever-kind, now Jane Bingley.
The next day, gossip was all over Town.
A/N: And by Town, the only obvious answer is Londontown. LOL. So, ta ta for now, love,
Magewhisperer