Whoa. This is the first fic I've written in months, for various reasons, it's probably not the best I've done…but I feel immensely proud over myself anyway. It's my first Pride and Prejudice fic, so I hope it gives you as much pleasure as it gave me. Needless to say, I had a lot of fun writing it.

You'll have to forgive my English. It's not my first language and I work, as always, without a beta. I hope you'll forgive me for my mistakes and my rather modern English. I tried to make their speech as Austen-ish as I could, though.

So, enjoy. And please review. How else will I know if you liked this or not?

-Cherry

This fic is dedicated to Katie for listening and still wanting me as her beta, Linn for lending me her Pride and Prejudice DVDs, Susanna for reviewing Pride and Prejudice during our English-class (and that way inspired me to read it) and Rebecca for - unknowingly - inspiring me. Thank you all for being my friend.

For Your Eyes Only

Had one stated that he, Fitzwilliam Darcy, had been happily invited to the wedding, one would have stated a lie.

Miss Elizabeth Bennet, soon to be Mrs. Collins, had never stated a relationship beyond acquaintance with him. Her older sister, the lovely Miss Jane Bennet, found him tolerable, which was – as far as he knew – the closest she came to disliking anyone. Her younger sisters found him proud and barely tolerable as a person, her mother despised him for his pride, and her father hated him for slighting his obviously favourite daughter.

Bingley, naturally, was the first person they invited.

In fact, he'd never received an invitation, and he probably never even would have heard about the upcoming marriage, had it not been for Miss Caroline Bingley. Truly, it had been a mere coincidence that she had mentioned the wedding to him.

"Mr. Darcy," she had said; a satisfied smile on her lips, "I expect you feel sad at the loss of Miss Bennet's fine eyes. —Oh? Have you not heard?"

He had replied that he had not.

"Miss Bennet is getting married tomorrow with your aunt's clergyman. A very suitable match, if I say so myself."

The rest had blurred together in his mind. He vaguely remembered shooting up from the couch, his hands clenching together into fists as he stormed out, not only in anger or to find out as much as he could about Miss Elizabeth's upcoming marriage, but to figure out a way to be present.

In the end, it had taken him quite a lot of talking, persuading and, most of all, bribing, to get himself inside the church.

So there he was, standing in the back, as far into the shadows as he could, watching the woman he loved getting married to a man who didn't even deserve to stand in the same room as her, let alone marry her.

The atmosphere in the church was stiff at the best. Not even Mrs. Bennet seemed very pleased, even though she tried to hide her uneasiness by sobbing loudly into her handkerchief.

"We are gathered here today—"

Darcy flinched. Even though he had expected the words to come, nothing in world could have prepared him on the dread he felt when the priest uttered them. He swallowed nervously, forcing himself to focus on the bride instead of the horrid words.

Her face was pale, but held high. She seemed to be the very epitome of determination, and yet he could see – despite the fact that he was standing so far away - that her hands were shaking. In anger or fright he did not now. Perhaps it was a combination of both.

Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun at the nape of her neck, the dress she wore was simple in both colour and style, obviously bought in a hurry, and it didn't go very well with her pale complexion.

"—But reverently and soberly. Into this Holy Estate, these two persons present come now to be joined—"

She whimpered and, for the first time, Darcy realized how terrified she must be. How large the determination she wielded must be to keep from running.

His heart tightened in his chest and a sense of panic crept up his throat. He clenched his eyes shut for a mere second, desperately trying to keep his emotions in control.

"—Why they may not be lawfully joined together, let them speak now, or forever hold their peace."

Silence fell over the church and the atmosphere seemed so thick one could slice it with a knife. Everyone squirmed in their seats, seeming not to whether or not someone would speak, but rather who would.

Miss Elizabeth turned, her eyes travelling over them slowly and, for a brief moment, her eyes seemed to lock with his. Seconds passed between them, and as her eyes bored into his, he was frightened to see how the light he had so greatly admired seemed to have faded into a pale, dull glow.

He clenched his eyes shut once again. The sight was too hard to look at. But however hard he tired to forget it, the image of her dead eyes was etched into his mind.

It was a sight he never wished to see again.

"Do you, Peter Collins—"

"No." The lone word echoed through the church, its effects immediate. The silence hung heavily around them, everyone sat frozen in their seats and even time seemed to have stopped.

Darcy opened his eyes slowly, only to see everyone else's in the room directed at him.

It was then he realized that he had been the one to speak.

He let his eyes slowly travel upwards until they finally met with hers. Her face was still pale, her hands still trembling…but her eyes…

It was faint. A pale glistering light, but it there was there. The lively glow that had been so painfully absent just a few moments ago.

And that, above all, gave him hope.

"I object."