So this is my first P&P oneshot and yes it is a bad start, to be all depressing like this. But I was sitting in American Lit and it just came to be in my boredom of sitting in the corner due to assigned seating. But please be kind and read and review. Much love, Kate.
Darcy: And... what should I call you when I am cross? Mrs. Darcy...?
Elizabeth: No! No. You may only call me "Mrs. Darcy"... when you are completely, and perfectly, and incandescently happy.
Darcy: Then how are you this evening... Mrs. Darcy?
The sun rose over the grass, illuminating the dew hanging on each singular blade. A bird sat happily chirping on the fencepost, singing out, calling sweetly to a lover. The gentle breeze ruffled the trees, causing them to sway, almost appearing to dance with each other. But the young couple sitting on a blanket in the field hardly noticed, so enthralled by each other were they. The man, with his dark features that made him strikingly handsome, had his arms around a women with features that were so plainly pretty, dark features matching those of her partner.
But the woman's face was pale, as white as a sheet of parchment, and her body was fragile, having lost the ability to fight long ago. The man kissed his wife's temple, and her eyes closed slowly, letting the gentle breeze and the feel of her husband's touch wash over her, hoping to always remember how she felt at that exact moment. The husband placed his cheek against his wife's, reveling in the feel of her smooth, soft skin. But at the same time, it was so cold, almost clammy.
"Oh my love, you've been fighting for so long. It is time you let go," The man whispered to his wife, lovingly, but with sad undertones in his voice.
"I could never do that," The wife replied, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "You would think me weak."
"I could never think that about you my love. You have been so strong for so long, but I can't watch you suffer anymore."
"But what about you and Bennet and Janie? I couldn't bear leaving them motherless and you without a wife." The husband saw that his wife was getting upset and hoped to calm her somehow.
"We will be fine. I would rather not have a wife, than watch my one true love be weak and suffering through life. And I know Bennet and Janie will understand, though not right now, they will someday. Please my love, you have been so sick, just let go."
The man watched as his wife closed her eyes and began to rest. He looked up and watched the sun rise over the trees and the great structure that was Pemberley Hall.
"Darcy?"
"Yes, my Lizzie?"
"I love you, I always will, don't forget me."
"Oh Lizzie, I could never forget you. You have a hold on my heart and will not let go."
Darcy watched as the features on Lizzie's face shifted from apprehension to pure sadness.
"Tell the children, Darcy."
"Why don't you tell them yourself, Lizzie dear."
Lizzie looked away from her husband's face and over to where he was looking. Nanny Emma was leading their son Bennet and daughter Janie toward them. Lizzie and Darcy gathered their children into their arms before Darcy noticed Lizzie begin to weaken.
"Let go my love, we are here, we will watch over and protect you."
"Darcy, I'm afraid."
"You have nothing to fear. We have nothing to fear. Do not forget, I will always be with you."
Darcy felt Lizzie's body begin to relax, knowing that her family was with her and would protect her. Janie began to squirm and cry in her mother's arms, knowing that something was wrong, but Darcy placed a gentle hand on her forehead and once again she was calm.
And so, there in the field, surrounded by the family and nature she so dearly loved, Elizabeth Darcy stopped suffering and let go of her fears, dying in her husband's loving arms, her own around her children.
Fitzwilliam Darcy would tell their children of their mother's love and affection and her countenance for years, but they would never tire of hearing about them. Darcy told his children that their lives were their own and no one should choose anything for them. His son Bennet, the heir to Pemberley, married young, but his love for his bride was unmatched, except by his father's love for his mother. His daughter Jane, however, took her time and married at an older age, a naval officer, not for money or society, but for complete and incandescent love.