The Musings of Edward Fairfax Rochester

By K.J. Amethyst

I was sitting under the great tree - still great, despite its loss of a branch - where I had come many times since my blindness struck, but only when the weather was fine. I had my cane with me to reach it (someone always drove me, but I always preferred to reach this place alone), and I had Pilot with me for a companion. Not much for talking is Pilot, but still, a companion.

But there was one companion I wanted more than any other; one whose mere presence was a balm to my aching heart and soul, one who could make me feel alive by just being in the same room as I, and the one who I wished to share the tree with again - for in my eyes, it was not just a tree, it was our tree, and I hoped that I would be able to share it with my Jane again ...

My thoughts then went back to when I first met her. A strange meeting it was; I was on my way back to Thornfield from another useless trip to Europe, when suddenly, I was off my horse. A strange figure stood before it which made my horse rear: a young woman, quite small and not much to look at, must have been casting spells within those woods that night, for what else could have made me fall?

I discovered that this elfish creature was governess to my ward, Adele, who was willing to fetch help for me. At first I resisted, until I had to make her useful. She tried, unsuccessfully, to get my horse at first, but I knew that I would have to use her to take me to my horse, which she did. I told her to hurry home - she did not know who I was at that moment, but she would. I knew I had to talk to her, properly, in front of a fire, where I could study her more and try to draw her out.

She was different. She had no family nor friends. She had spent her life at Gateshead and then at Lowood school. She was lonely, that much was certain. She had taken great pains to improve Adele, but she had done well with her. I was glad to hear that she and Mrs Fairfax were becoming good friends, and I was fascinated by the paintings she had done. Indeed, everything about this girl intrigued and fascinated me.

Over the next few weeks, I did my best to ignore my fascination for her. I kept myself busy, going over the accounts, tending to the garden, visiting my tenants, but nothing would take my mind off Jane. I would always see her, somewhere. Always notice her. Each time I passed her, she seemed happy, but there was always something off.

Eventually, I made up my mind to speak with her again. We would always talk about a wide variety of subjects; we even talked about the subject of Adele's mother at one point, which Jane listened to with a patient ear. As the weeks passed, and I got to know Jane better, I saw how happy she became; how her mouth now smiled more, and her eyes sparkled with genuine pleasure to not only be involved in conversation, but also to have her opinions made known and for them to be spoken freely without fear of being reprimanded.

I liked her - possibly more than I should, but I liked her.

Then, one night, a fire began in my room which Jane saved me from. She told me a noise outside her door had woken her from sleep. I told her not to move whilst I went to investigate.

I already knew who had caused this to happen. My wife (ha! Wife, indeed!), Bertha Antoinetta Mason, who I was tricked into marrying years ago. She had a nurse with her, a Mrs Grace Poole, who often had a problem with keeping her gin intake under control, but more often than not, she was a good keeper for Bertha.

Once I had checked on Grace and Bertha, I headed back down to Jane. The thought of Jane or Adele or anyone being killed if the fire had spread too far made my blood run cold.

I arrived back in my room just as dawn was breaking. I found Jane asleep in my coat that I had wrapped around her in my chair. After the horror of that night, seeing her asleep, looking so peaceful, so innocent, filled my heart with a peace I would never thought I would feel. And as I studied her, another emotion entered my heart, one that was so much stronger than the last and hit me with such force that it made me breathless: love. And this time, I knew it to be true.

When she had woken, I told her to keep what had happened to herself, which she agreed to. But as she was about to leave me, as though we were mere strangers, I stopped her from doing so. She would not leave me in such a manner. So I held out my hand, and slowly, hesitantly, she put her small, perfect, dainty, warm hand in mine. I covered it with my other hand, before I wrapped one arm around her waist, still holding the hand she had offered me.

I could have kissed her that night. I wanted to. I drew my head slowly closer to hers, feeling her breath mingling with mine ... but at the last second she pulled back and left me, claiming that she was cold.

Looking back, it was a good thing she left, for if I had kissed her, I do not know whether I would have been able to control myself.

I loved Jane, but I did not then know if she loved me or not. So I left for a party at the Leas as soon as the sun had properly risen.

I was greeted merrily by the company there - particularly Miss Blanche Ingram, who all but threw herself at me the moment she saw me. Many were thrilled at seeing us together, for they thought us a perfect match; but I wasn't fooled, for I knew that Blanche only loved my fortune. And this gave me an idea.

After a fortnight of being away, I decided to return home with the party in hand. It was no good, my time away. I saw and thought of Jane, always. My thoughts were always with her, wondering what she was doing and whether or not she missed me. So I brought the party to my home, with the intention of making Jane jealous by having Miss Ingram on my arm, for I thought that once Jane saw that I was sought after, that she would confess what she felt in her heart to me.

However, this was not the case. The day after my return, I invited Jane and Adele into the drawing room after dinner. Blanche angered me that night by insulting my lovely Jane, for being a governess. As I was her employer and didn't want to give the game away so soon, I could do nothing but let Blanche and her insufferable family say everything they needed to, but I watched Jane closely, and I could see the pain in her eyes, saw how their hurtful words struck her. As Blanche began to sing at the piano, Jane left. I waited until the song had finished to follow her.

I tried to see how she felt about me, but no matter how far I dug, she revealed nothing. It appeared she had put up walls to shield herself from me. Before I could try and dig any deeper, I was told by Mrs Fairfax that Richard Mason, Bertha's brother, had come.

I warned him not to see her that night, to wait until morning, but the fool didn't listen, and ended up injured in the middle of the night, alarming my guests, who I soon calmed and sent back to bed. Jane was still there. I told her to wait for me, which she did, as I knew she would. I told her to follow me, and led her to the third floor, to tend to Richard Mason whilst I fetched the doctor.

Once Richard had gone, I led Jane to an orchard , where she told me she was frightened of what lay in the inner room, but I quickly reassured Jane that she had nothing to fear. She asked me what was up there, but I could not tell her for fear of losing her. I then proceeded to tell Jane of an error I had made several years ago, whose existence had blighted my own, until, after many years I came home, heart weary and soul withered, and met my gentle Jane, and her society made me feel alive, alive as I had not been in a very long time.

Jane thought I was speaking of Miss Ingram at first, but when I asked her what she would do to make my happiness, Jane answered that she would do anything for me - anything that was right. Those words touched my heart more than I can say. I gave her a flower, something small and delicate, just like her, which I put in her hair.

A few days later, Blanche and I were in the garden, when Jane interrupted us, asking for me. We went to my study, where she told me she had received a letter from her old nurse Bessie saying that her cousin John Reed was dead and that her aunt had been asking for her. I asked her to promise me that she would not stay away too long, for I didn't know how to live without her in my life. We parted on good terms, though; a few teasing words, and then she was gone.

The month I spent without Jane was hard. I missed her, so much, and I knew that she would come back to me, but it was only a matter of when. I didn't mope around while Jane was gone, oh no. I made preparations. I dismissed the party the day after Jane had left, broke things off with Blanche, went to order a new carriage for my wedding - basically, keeping myself busy while Jane was gone. But at night, my dreams were always filled with Jane.

About a month after Jane had left, I was sat on a stile, writing in my journal, when I looked up and saw a fairy, dressed in grey approach me, a small smile on her face. She looked like an ethereal vision that would fade away at the slightest touch; but when I touched her, and found that she was just as real as I was, the joy and electricity that touched my heart soared through me.

Over the next fortnight, Jane and I spent a lot of time in each other's company, talking and laughing like we always did. I wanted to spend that time with her - in fact, I wanted to spend every waking moment in her presence, for I found so much joy in just being in her company - even when she was silent, I was happy. But I still had no idea if she loved me or not. Fortunately, an opportunity presented itself two weeks later.

Mrs Fairfax had told her I was to be married, before she went off towards the tree - our tree - the very tree I am sat under. I told her that I felt a string connected our hearts, and that if she left me, it would snap, and that I would bleed inwardly, whereas she would forget me. She poured out her heart to me, and I knew that she loved me. I asked her to marry me. At first she did not believe me, believing I was, as I had led everyone to believe, that I had promised myself to Miss Ingram, but once I had convinced her that it was her I loved, not Blanche, Jane accepted me, and then she kissed me.

Her kisses were far better than I had ever dreamed they would be. I couldn't get enough of her. When the wind started blowing more harshly, I knew the storm would be approaching fast, so Jane and I ran to the house. We didn't make it away from the rain in time, but neither of us cared. We were just too happy to be with each other. She tried to head towards the stairs, but I wasn't about to let her go without a few more kisses first, so I span her around, kissing her as I did so, before I planted her feet back on the ground, kissing her even more soundly. I couldn't wait until we were married, so that I wouldn't have to stop kissing her, but I knew I would have to wait, so I bid her goodnight, and walked away.

The month before our wedding was perfect. When I wasn't dealing with business or being a faithful landlord to my tenants, I was spending all my time with Jane, relishing in the fact that we were together; her presence and her joy and laughter made me so happy. We would walk in the garden often, where I would share a kiss or two with my lovely one. She even had me stand for her once so that she could draw me, which I obliged to eagerly. A couple of times, I tried to take a peek or two at the progress, but she would always slap my hand away playfully, and tell me to be patient. Ah, happy days!

A couple of days before the wedding, though, Bertha had snuck into Jane's room and tore her veil. I tried telling her that what she saw was half dream, half reality, but Jane would not relent, so I told her that a year and a day after we were married that I would explain all to her. I think I reassured her, but I couldn't be sure, but I wasn't about to let anything ruin my chance of happiness.

Alas, such happiness is not meant to last! The morning of our wedding came, and in my madness to have us wed, I all but dragged Jane to the church. Just as the ceremony was about to begin, a solicitor, Mr Briggs, interrupted us, accompanied by Richard Mason. I knew then that the game was up. I took them all to meet Bertha.

Jane remained cooped behind her door for the remainder of the day. I ordered no one to see her. Only I would see her. My, what a sad eye that greeted me, not a fiery one! I caused that pain, and I felt it crush my heart.

I told her my story in the drawing room a little while later, hoping that once she understood she would stay with me. Once I was done, I asked her to be my wife. She denied. Yes, I was that desperate to keep her that I wanted her to be my mistress. To say otherwise would be a lie.

I went to her door as dawn broke, persuading her to stay, but I received no answer, no matter how violently I knocked. I told her I loved her, hoping it would be enough, but when I burst through the door and found her window open, her possessions gone and her wedding gown lying on the bed, I knew she had left; even as I called out for her out of her window, I knew it was no good.

Determined to find her, I went to ask to have my horse ready, caring not how I looked. I called for her as I rode, but I could find no face nor voice of her. It seemed that she had flown away on those wings of hers, fairy that she is, to a distant land across the moors, to a place that I could not find her.

The next two months were torturous. I hired investigators to search for her, to find out where she was; but as the days turned into weeks, and I kept receiving no news about where she was, it only made me more desperate to find her. I turned to drinking to try and soothe some of my pain, but even that did not help, for I always remembered the things I said and did in my drunken stupor the next morning.

Then, two months after my lovely Jane had left me, my life changed for ever. There was another fire. I got all the servants out but, try as I did to save Bertha, I couldn't help her, for she jumped. And as I made my way back down the stairs, they collapsed beneath me, and I ended up blind, with a wounded, useless hand.

I decided to stop looking for Jane after that. She would do better off without me, I thought; if she ever returned to me, I was sure that she would be repulsed by my appearance, and that she would want someone younger, healthier, stronger, and that she did not need me to take all the beauty of her youth and innocence away from her. I also stopped taking care of my appearance. I was never a handsome man before the fire, that I know, but without Jane, I didn't know why I should bother to make any effort to make myself look presentable, especially since society had decided it wanted nothing to do with me (although, truth be told, I didn't really care what society thought of me), so I let my hair and facial hair grow, and stopped wearing a cravat and waistcoat. What the servants had to say about me, I knew not, for they kept their opinions to themselves, but I could always sense their apprehension whenever one of them approached me.

Just because I stopped searching for Jane does not mean that I stopped thinking about her. I always thought about her. Always. During daylight hours, I thought about where she was, who she was with, hoping that she was all right and that she had not been cast out by strangers. I never thought that she was dead, oh no, for I was certain that if she was dead then the string that had connected us would have snapped by now. In my dreams, however, she would always return to me, but when I awoke she was gone, which made my heart ache for her all the more, and my eyes wept so many tears when I realised that I was alone.

Three days ago, I had had enough. I wanted to die. I decided that if I couldn't have Jane back, then I would gladly go to God where I would wait with Him until I saw Jane again. So, with all I had in me, I whispered her name, "Jane!" And the strangest thing of all was that I heard her soft voice answer: "What is it? Where are you? Wait for me?" I said her name again, and after a moment I heard, "I am coming!" Nothing more.

And now here I am, three days later, sat under our tree, doing nothing, expecting nothing -

Pilot moaned; he must have heard someone. I called him back before he went bounding off to meet whoever it was who was approaching.

They didn't speak. I asked, "Who's there?" No answer. There was a strange energy in the air, almost like - no, I would not go there.

Then - I felt a hand softly touch my wounded one. I touched it gently, wondering if this was real, or whether it was another one of my dreams, as I muttered in disbelief, "This hand ..."

With her other hand, she brought my free hand to her cheek, where I touched the soft skin wondrously.

"Jane Eyre? Jane Eyre?" I whispered, wondering if this was real - that she had genuinely returned to me.

I then hear Jane's soft voice say, "Edward, I have come back to you."

She said my name! Never before had she said my name; it had always been "sir" or "Mr Rochester", but, oh, how those few words touched my heart! I jumped up and cupped her face with both hands, wishing that I could have my sight so that I could know that this was real.

Then Jane said teasingly, "Is ... is this Fairfax Rochester with nothing to say?"

I could find no answer to that, so I merely asked, "You are altogether a human being, Jane?"

I felt her move closer to me, before she answered softly, "I conscientiously believe, sir."

I raised my eyes, fighting back tears. She really was here with me, then? No, it couldn't be ... it was not possible ...

She kissed me then. I kept one hand wrapped in her hair as I moved the other down to her waist. I was breathing heavily when our lips parted, but I thought that I was dreaming again.

"But a dream?" was all I said.

Then Jane moved her head to my chest and said, "Awaken, then."

I couldn't help the tears that sprung to my eyes at that moment. It was real. Jane had come back to me. We were together. As I held her in my arms, not wanting to let her go any time soon, for the first time in my life, I felt blessed, for I had my life and happiness back.

AN: So, this is another Jane Eyre fanfic. Sorry this is a day late, by the way, but it's up here now. I've had this idea for some time now, which is based both on the book and also on the 2011 movie with Michael Fassbender, who did a great job of being Rochester, so I hope you all like this and that I did this justice. I wanted to search his thoughts, and make people understand why he looks how he looks when he is sitting under the tree, so I hope this helps with that. Another fic should be up on Thursday, but if not, it'll be up after my fifth book in the Kiara Pride-Lander series is done, and that's all I have to say. So, I hoped you like reading this and please leave a review. Thanks.