The storyline, new character development, new events, and new characters are my intellectual property. Glorioux

Thanks for the comments, they make me want to write more. Virtual hugs to everyone, we are all together in this strange time. What the heck, let's read PP, much more fun than the news.

A Fairy's Gift

Lizzie was sitting, sad and hopeless, when the room was filled with daylight, "My beloved sweet child, dry those tears, your family doesn't deserve your sorrow. Don't listen to them. Now, come with me, I am Charlotte, your mother, I mean fairy godmother." The beautiful fairy explained, quickly correcting herself. It was going to be difficult because she wanted Lizzie to call her mother. She realized that maybe she didn't have as much patience as she had thought. "My dear girl, you are going to the ball, let's get ready."

She told Lizzie how she became her favorite, "I've been watching you since you were three, but I had to wait for an occasion to show up; we have many rules. There is no other one like you, I love you like my own child." Charlotte, the fairy, kissed Lizzie's cheek and hugged her.

The fairy's words were a soothing balm, healing the pain inside. Strangely, Lizzie felt connected to her, like the fairy had been by her ever since. She cared for the fairy, "I wish you were my mother, "Lizzie kissed the fairy's cheek, meaning her words. With those words and the kiss, Lizzie had accepted Charlotte's love.

Charlotte had neither asked for Lizzie's words nor had used magic to compel them. Charlotte felt like celebrating; her child was hers, but first, Lizzie should get the best. If she wanted a prince, she would get one.

Charlotte advised, "My dearest, the enchantment will run out by midnight, so you must be back by that time. And since we don't have a carriage, and you are such a good walker, I will charm your shoes to take you there in minutes. I don't make the rules, but the first time with anyone, my magic only works from midnight to midnight."

And with a wave here and there, the fairy's magic wand helped her to get Lizzie ready. While Charlotte charmed Lizzie's slippers, a tiny piece of the wand fell inside one of them. When Charlotte finished, Lizzie wore an elegant dress and gloves of the color of a summer sky, made of embroidered silk, decorated with seed pearls, and a few colored gems around the neckline.

The gown was simply adorned, not too much lace, not too many bows. It had a daringly low neckline, sure to attract any red-blooded prince. Lastly, Charlotte placed a tiara on Lizzie's head; it was adorned with a few of Lizzie's tears, they looked like diamonds, and gave light like bright candles. Her slippers were made of glowing material. They seemed as if they were made of gold and crystal.

"My, they are so pretty and very comfortable, as if I am walking on a pillow," Lizzie exclaimed.

"My dear, the tiara, and the shoes will light up your way, go, and don't forget my warning, you must be back before the clock strikes twelve. Now, hurry up, my beautiful good child." Charlotte, the fairy kissed Lizzie, added extra gleam to Lizzie's already beautiful eyes, hugged her once more, and with this off, Lizzie went. She wasn't alone, forest animals, and invisible beings followed the most favorite of many, Lizzie Bennet.

Lizzie was radiant, happier than ever, she had never been hugged or felt so much affection. She truly wished the fairy was her mother; all was well, and now, she was on her way to the ball.

Meanwhile, the prince was having a miserable time, as usual. The problem was always the same; he considered himself above everyone, and at the same time, he wanted to be loved for the person he was, and to be treated as a friend. The later wasn't easy since he was standoffish and not particularly friendly.

The second problem was his view of most of the maidens. Of those Prince Darcy would deem worthy of him, he found them lacking and boring. He wanted a maiden who made his body harden just with one look. A maiden who was beautiful, intelligent, passionate, not afraid of the marriage bed, and of high birth; in other words, he was proud and a pain.

At the dance, Prince William Darcy saw a buxomly blond who appealed to him, but when he approached her, she only had eyes for Bingley. The usual, all the women favored the friendly yet not so smart Charles, who had suffered a big blow in the head just a few months ago. The blow to his head only affected his memory, and some of his behavior, but he hid it well for Darcy's sake. Not that he had been a genius before, but he was even less now.

Darcy, dressed in formal wear, nothing different from other gentlemen attending the ball, approached the blond beauty, "May I have the next set, Lady...?"

She answered haughtily, "Lady Jane of Longbourn, and no, all my sets are taken." She whispered something in her sister's ear. Both eyed him, giggled nastily, and dismissed him when two officers from his guard came to ask for a dance.

The oldest officer paled when he saw it was the Prince standing there and was hidden by a column. "Your…" He was about to bow and say something when the Prince's eyes reminded him to keep his identity secret. A slight head shake was enough to keep them quiet.

Darcy left thinking the Lady Jane was a nasty lady, wishing her a miserable time. She reminded him of a perfectly good looking wormy apple. Lucious on the outside, wormy and rotten inside. He smiled when he saw her dancing with the captain, noble he was, but she could have the prince. But when she set her sights on Charles, he harrumphed, not so sure if he wanted her for one of his best friends.

The Beauty in the Forest

Prince Darcy looked around the room. Everything looked perfect, ladies and gentlemen dressed in their best clothes. The young ladies all smiling hoping to catch Lord Bingley's attention. The officers dressed in their fancy uniforms were very popular with the young ladies since the ladies knew they were part of the royal court. The musical group was playing the latest dancing music. There were tables laden with refreshments, uniformed waiters bringing trays loaded with wine and champagne glasses. Fragrant flower arrangements everywhere, sweetening the air.

Everything was perfect. Prince Darcy thought it was until he saw a pest, Lady Bingley, Charles' sister. She was dressed in an awful orange creation, no surprise there; wearing too many jewels for a country ball. She wanted to be his wife, the thought made him shiver.

He made a sign to one of his officers, Major Wickham, who had already noticed. He was very protective of the prince because he was an orphan that had grown up in the palace, where he had been treated as an equal. He quickly stepped in front of Lady Bingley, who tried to get around him without success while Prince Darcy escaped.

After a few minutes, the Prince left the ballroom to go for a walk. He was bored and unhappy; Lady Jane and Lady Bingley were enough to ruin his night. The paths around the palace were lit with torches making it easy to see. Darcy had walked a few minutes when he saw the most enchanting apparition.

She was walking at an unnaturally fast pace, not really walking, or was she dancing? The lady was dressed in a magnificent gown, somewhat hidden by a cape with a fur hood, partially covering her abundant curls. Her shoes were glowing, or it seemed that way. The tiara she wore did glow, he didn't imagine it.

As she came closer, he could see her hair was in a bit of disarray. He could also see her slim ankles and most of her shapely calves. He saw them because she had gathered up her dress to avoid getting it dirty. Her face was flushed to a perfect pink, and her, mostly uncovered, sweet, creamy bosom shook with every step. The delightful mounds made his mouth water, making him want to put his lips around them.

The vision of such beauty exerted by the exercise, brought unbidden pictures of her naked body under his, after a vigorous session of bed activities. He became powerfully aroused, which was easy to see since his britches were so tight. However, the lady was in too much of a hurry. Thus, she didn't notice him standing in the middle of the road.

The lady was Lizzie, running like the wind. What an incredible sensation, she thought. So good she had actually forgotten about the ball enjoying the experience. The magic tiara and slippers lighted the way for her, and it couldn't be more perfect.

She was humming an old love song, walking and dancing, twirling and bowing, arms up in the air, and doing a few jig steps with a light jump. It was during one of the twirling events when the Lizzie-Wind ran into the entranced Prince Darcy, who stood firm like a giant boulder, right on her path.

The impact made her bounce back, and she would have fallen if not for the Prince's fast reaction. So instead of falling, surprised Lizzie was held tightly against the hard body of someone laughing.

She was dizzy from the initial shock, fear, and surprise. But she hoped not to be released from such an embrace. The Prince smelled wonderful, and his body molded perfectly against hers. He was much taller and seemed made of hard metal, most pleasant.

In the light available, she could admire his extraordinarily handsome features. She sighed and purred in content. He chuckled a low pleasant rumble, and his finger lifted her chin.

"So what have we here? A forest fae coming to a mortal ball, hoping to enchant a careless human, am I right? "

She chuckled but didn't ask to be released. "Sir, I was in a hurry hoping to reach the ball before it was too late," Lizzie offered in a breathless voice, by way of explanation.

"Unlikely," he said, attracted more than ever, no wonder since her breathy voice had destroyed whatever was left of his usually sound judgment. He could see himself sharing his bed with her, her voice would sound like that, right before things got too heated.

"Why would a lady be doing alone after dark, unescorted, on foot, and wearing such finery. From your speech and your comportment, I would say you are a lady, but you are hiding something." His voice sounded a little husky.

Lizzie's heart beat faster, she'd been caught before getting to the ball. She could see her mother, the disgrace, the humiliation, and the awful weeks of hard punishment for daring to dream. A few tears fell down, "Don't cry, my dear lady, whatever secret you have is safe with me." He told Lizzie, wanting to dry her tears with his tongue.

By then, he was hoping she was a nymph, one of those supposed to be wild lovers. In his mind, they were already naked, loving with wild abandonment. He wondered if nymphs could get married? It would be a problem if they couldn't.

She looked at him again, he looked like a prince, his royal bearing, his regal manners, and his kind heart belonged to, according to her readings, a prince. Furthermore, his knuckles drying her tears made her body warm and melt into his. Her body seemed to want to get closer to his. Oh dear, he was handsome, his beautiful grey eyes with long lashes, that mouth, the rebel hair falling on his forehead, he was perfection.

"Sir, if you keep this encounter to yourself, I will turn around and go back. I just wanted to meet the lord everyone is talking about, and perhaps he would have noticed me. So I could be taken away from—" But she stopped herself from revealing more. Finally and reluctantly, she tried to remove herself from the tight embrace, but her 'prince' seemed to be as unmovable as a massive boulder.

"Don't move, you are right where you belong. So you thought Lord Bingley would choose you for his bride, and you would be able to leave what must be a bad situation."

Looking closer, he could see the mark of nails around her pale neck, small fading bruises, and could feel her body much too thin. He had an idea.

He held her with one arm, and maneuvering a bit, he removed her glove, and instead of a pampered hand, he saw and felt a rough hand, calloused and scarred from old burns and injuries.

His arousal was replaced by slow-growing anger, no secrets, he wanted to know.

He held her hand and walked away from Netherfield, knowing that he would be safe since his guards were hiding in the shadows and right behind them. He knew that George always had his back and that Richard made sure nobody let his guard down.

"Let's start with your name, I know your life isn't right. I know because I can see signs of problems, it comes with my job. Don't hide anything."

Lizzie knew he was right. Moreover, she heard an owl hooting and telling her, "Trust him, he is good." And other night creatures agreed.

a/n There are cameo appearances of many PP characters. So? Darcy is a Prince Charming:)