General AN: This is just a little PSA/note to anyone who follows my writing in general on ff dot net. My frustrations with some aspects of the site are causing me to switch permanently to ao3 as a means of publishing fics. I won't be publishing any new works on this site, so if you're interested in continuing to read my stuff, you'll have to switch over to my tumblr (jhoomwrites) or ao3 (jhoom) accounts. HOWEVER, because I have a number of unfinished WIPs and series on this site, I will continue to update those until they're complete. That means that the following stories/series WILL continue to be updated on ff dot net: The Mark; Academy Blues; love to hate; What's in a Name?; any fics related to Welcome to SKU. Anything new that I post that is NOT related to those stories will NOT be published here.
AN: wow it's been a while... i do feel bad about not updating lately, but in all honesty i've had RL to worry about and i've not been having a lot of fun writing this story lately (at least not in comparison to other projects i'm working on). even so, i forced myself to sit down and write it and here we all.
thank you to everyone who's still reading and has taken the time to give me feedback. i appreciate it - even if it's criticism, because it helps me figure out what i can do better. to those worrying about how closely i plan on sticking to canon, more and more divergences are coming up. i'm toying around with ideas about mr. collins (which will probably be at least a little close to canon) and lydia/wickham (unsure how to approach some parts of this, but it will likely be a pairing), but besides that things will be moving away from what you've read in canon
When they arrive home, they are greeted by Mr. Bennet who seems quite amused to see Mr. Collins and the Lucas sisters in tow.
"Did we have an enjoyable trip into town, girls?"
Lydia stomps off, muttering about how someone's inopportune arrival scared off the officers. Mr. Bennet raises an eyebrow at the elder sisters in question.
"She's overreacting," Elizabeth scoffs as she removes her gloves.
"Hmm, she is wont to do that."
Jane, as usual, is more sympathetic. "It was a rather eventful trip, Lydia is likely just a little... put out."
"Eventful was it?" Mr. Bennet muses. "Was there anything in particular besides Mr. Collins following you into town that I ought to know about? Not that Lydia couldn't make a mountain out of that mole hill, I'm sure."
"We did happen to run into Mr. Bingley," Jane says, though her focus is intently on undoing her bonnet. Even still, her cheeks color slightly. "Though there's no need to mention it to Mama, nothing of consequence happened."
Mr. Bennet seems inclined to argue otherwise, whether or not he knows the specifics he's not one to let a chance to rile up his wife go by, when Lizzie steps in on her sister's behalf. "She's right, Papa. Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy merely added perhaps twenty words between them. No, most of our time was spent getting to know one of the new officers. A man by the name of Mr. Wickham."
She looks pointedly at her father as she announces the name, watching as his face changes from light amusement to wide-eyed shock. "A Mr. Wickham, did you say?"
Jane looks between the two of them with a furrowed brow. "Yes. He just arrived in Meryton and accompanied us to our aunt's house. Why, Papa, do you know him?"
Mr. Bennet tears his eyes away from Lizzie and gives his eldest daughter a wink and smile. "Can't say that I do, though if you've met one officer I daresay you've met them all. Though I'm sure you girls will keep me informed if there's anything of particular interest about this young man or another, right?" And though he keeps his gaze fixed on Jane, Lizzie reads the implication there.
"Of course, Papa. Should any of your daughters take 'particular interest' in this soldier or any other, you shall be the first to know." Mollified, he nods as Lizzie links her arm through Jane's and pulls her out to the garden.
"Lizzie, what on earth was that about? And shouldn't we be in the drawing room-"
"Perhaps we should, but I very much need to speak with you first and I cannot do it with Mama or Lydia or god forbid Mr. Collins overhearing." She leads her sister to a secluded part of the yard, out of sight from the main windows but within earshot should they be called back to the house.
"Should I be worried?" Jane asks as she follows Elizabeth's lead and takes a seat in the shade of a large oak.
"I should hope not, but we shall see." Bracing herself, she reaches down to undo the ties on her sleeves, pulling the fabric away enough that should she turn her hands the names inscribed on the inside of each wrist would be visible. Jane tracks the movement and her breath catches when she realizes what her sister is about to do. One at a time, Elizabeth reveals the names.
Jane gasps in shock. Her eyes dart to Lizzie's in a silent request for permission, then she reaches out to trace the letters.
"I'm sorry for not showing you years ago. It was abominably unfair of me, considering the spectacle of your sixteenth birthday, but I suppose I thought showing you would make it all real. And then both men happened to appear and it was real whether I wanted it to be or not."
"Yes," Jane agrees offhandedly, still staring at the two names. "I remember when we were girls and played at meeting our soulmates, but it is quite a difference between play and reality."
As the minutes draw out without further conversation, Elizabeth begins to feel ill at ease. She'd expected more excitement or chatter from her sister, though knowing Jane the latter never seemed likely. Even so, she feels something needs to be said. "You're not angry with me? For keeping them from you?"
"What?" Jane finally looks up to catch her sister's eyes. "No, of course not, Lizzie. I understand. If our positions were reversed, I don't think I would've been inclined to talk about Bingley or his sister. You should never feel upset for your want of privacy." Then, as though realizing what she's just said, she tilts her head in question. "Why are you telling me now? Is something the matter?"
Elizabeth grimaces and starts to re-do her sleeves. The task keeps her preoccupied for a moment so she can collect her thoughts. "Well, I'm not sure. It all seems so cut and dry, really. Mr. Darcy has been rather rude. Not terribly so, but enough that I question being able to tolerate him for the rest of the season let alone my whole life. And Mr. Wickham was jovial and open from the moment we met. It'd be foolish not to see the obvious way the one comes out more favorably than the other."
"I don't think Mr. Darcy will prove much of an enemy to you, if that's what you're worried about. Just as I don't think Caroline is truly one to me either. Perhaps our ties to them are less than they would've hoped, and perhaps they would rather us be someone else, but I can't imagine either of them being so severe on us that they would block our paths to happiness."
"Just make the ride a little bumpier?" Elizabeth says with a half-smile pulling at her lips. "I admit, I thought much the same." At least about Mr. Darcy, she amends to herself. Caroline is another matter, one she doesn't want to yet bring up to her sister for fear of making her sister ill at ease without reason. No, she'll continue to keep an eye on the Bingley sisters - both of them - and make sure they do nothing to hurt her beloved sister.
But her expression turns sour when she thinks about Mr. Darcy, to whom she's been trying to give the benefit of the doubt to. Mr. Darcy, who clearly cannot tolerate her family or her social standing or her very home. Every part of her life that is dear to her is something he finds, at least to some degree scornful. Yet she merely thought him stuck up. Until meeting Wickham, she would have never thought him so cold and cruel as he may very well be.
"Lizzie," Jane warns, a warm hand encircling her own. "What aren't you telling me? There must be more to this if you're so agitated and couldn't wait to talk about it until this evening."
"When I was speaking with Mr. Wickham, he told me how he knew Mr. Darcy from their shared childhood. He… Well, he told me some disturbing things regarding Mr. Darcy's behavior towards him." She explains everything Wickham told her, including the part where he showed her Darcy's name on his wrist, identical in every way to her own.
"Lizzie!" Jane interrupts. "Was that not very brazen of him? You're a virtual stranger to him and he still went against propriety to show you his wrist? How are you so calm and blasé about the whole thing?"
"Do you not think it lends credence to his story?" she retorts earnestly. "Darcy's name on his wrist confirms him as his enemy. And perhaps he does not feel me to be a stranger, despite having only just met. Perhaps my name is hidden on his other wrist and knowing so he felt at ease with me and saw no shame in it."
Jane's face becomes pinched as she listens to her sister's argument. When she finds words, she speaks evenly and in a restrained manner that Lizzie's always admired in her sister. "I dare to hope that my name is on Mr. Bingley's wrist as his is on mine, but he has not shown it to me. I, for one, do not take it as a sign that it is not there but rather as a sign that he respects discretion and propriety and my own reputation and feelings enough to wait until we have established a connection first. If he had shown me either of his wrists, even to confirm that we are soulmates, I don't know if I could find it in myself to trust him so readily as you seem to want to trust Mr. Wickham."
Then, very carefully, she adds, "I think it is also quite telling that he did not show you his other wrist. Why would he be so ready to denounce an enemy to you if you were his soulmate, but not be willing to explain why he trusts you?"
It feels like a slap to the face to hear her sister say such things. Her sister, who's never said a cross word about anyone (even when Kitty spilled ink all over her favorite dress or when Mary cut a few locks of her hair as a child), is now quite clearly taking a side in the Wickham matter. And though, logically, Elizabeth sees the truth to her arguments, it stings. She'd connected so immediately with Wickham, felt an easy bond with him that she could see blossoming into something more.
And yet… She knows very well what to think of a man who so readily shows strangers either of the names on his wrists. It's manipulative at its worst and shows a flagrant disregard to society at its best. Two things she should be suspicious of, yet she allowed herself to fall into it. Is still allowing it, since she's not ready to give up on her first impressions of them.
She wants it so badly to be Wickham instead of Darcy. Wants to believe that his appearance of goodness is not a front and Darcy's show of pride doesn't hide something deeper. Though why she wants it she can hardly say.
"You wanted to talk about all this for a reason, Lizzie," her sister soothes as she watches the display of emotions flit across her face. "Perhaps for me to be the voice of reason? To tell you to hold back your heart and your assumptions until you have more information, because I would hate to see you fall prey to any man whom you could not love. So please, dear sister, keep an open mind and don't let either persuade you to believe them to be things that they are not."
She blinks away tears she hadn't noticed before and nods. She clasps her sister's hands between her own. "You're right, of course. I will do my best to give both men a chance to prove who they really are. I promise."