I never thought I'd be doing a P&P fanfic, considering the style and writing technique of the early 1800s. But, hey, here it is!
I tried my best.
All respective characters belong to Jane Austen, who wrote the fabulous Pride and Prejudice. I'm not yet sure if I'm going to introduce any OC's.
All reviews at all times are always welcome. I thrive on your praise and criticism, so be sure to leave your feedback! :)
The late evening sun had begun to set due west, streaming into the vast windows at Pemberley, casting yellow-orange glares onto the surface of a grand table. At the head of such a table sat one Fitzwilliam Darcy, as always, with a newspaper creating a barrier between himself and the fairly recently anointed Mrs. Darcy.
Elizabeth busied herself by clearing the table from the dinner dishes. Darcy absolutely abhorred his wife doing what he considered 'meaningless chores', but did them she would, one of the many small acts of defiance she displayed against him.
She went about this in silence; neither she nor Darcy had any inclination to spark up a conversation. Finding himself rather intrigued this evening, he allowed the newspaper to fold over so that he could watch her collect up the dishes. In that instant, her gaze shifted from that of the table up to Darcy.
For a moment, just a brief moment, green eyes met brown, and he thought he saw the faintest of faint smiles pass across his wife's lips. The gesture took him by nothing less than surprise, as their manners toward each other during the previous week hadn't been exactly civil.
But it was just a smile. A barely there smile. It didn't make things suddenly better, and it didn't change anything.
But it was a smile. And it held promise. It held promise that she might yet find herself capable of regarding him in a pleasant manner if nothing else.
Overtaken by the moment, he placed the newspaper upon the table and stood in one swift motion; this action caught her attention.
"Allow me to help you."
The surprise was obvious across her every facial feature. "I thank you, Mr. Darcy, but I am very capable of-"
"I insist," said he, gently taking a plate out of her hand.
Another small smile. A glimmer of hope.