"But what is grief, if not love persevering?" -Vision, Wandavision
Following the death of his sister, Fitzwilliam Darcy slowly learns to accept the past as he overcomes the overwhelming grief which consumes him. High angst, but eventual HEA.
Chapter One: Let Her Go
Fitzwilliam Darcy felt not the temperature of the room, left vacant by the smoldering embers. He saw not the gazes of sympathy and empathy in his direction this last year complete. He cared not to maintain his appearance, nor his estates. He simply lost all reason to care for anything or anyone. His life was as if written by the Ancient Greeks; he was a great tragedy indeed.
He sat in the comfort of his chair in his study, though it was seldom used as such now, his business dealings were left in the hands of his steward, Mr. Greene. Complete darkness surrounded him, save for one candle which sat behind his glass. The light brightened the very color of the amber liquid. The liquid which had been constant in his life since the day he failed.
At the age of seven and twenty, he was severely underqualified to be guardian over his sister of fifteen. It was not for lack of love, for he loved her more than anything. His parents cared for the pair of them deeply, but following the tragic accident when he barely completed his studies at Cambridge, he threw himself into his work to make all of his estates more successful, to show to all who doubted his abilities—and there were many who did so—that he was capable and willing to accept the responsibility over hundreds, if not thousands upon him.
Georgiana had missed him whilst at school, she asked to be taken out of school, and as the doting elder brother, he complied. He sent her ahead of him as he had further business dealings which required his attention, in the three weeks in which he was absent, she had been taken in by the bane of his existence: George Wickham.
He arrived with his cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam to surprise his sister and make amends for his absence. They arrived two days before his intended arrival. Two days before the most disreputable man of his acquaintance intended to rush his sister off to Scotland. But even that would have been an improvement over the next events.
When he arrived at the rented house, he was informed by a maid that his sister was walking with her governess, Mrs. Younge. Gazing out to the seawall and its jagged rocks below, he found the companion and his sister not ten feet away from her, embracing a man!
Rushing to stop whatever mischief had begun in his negligence, he found her to be in the arms of none other than his father's godson. Darcy fumed. As he reached the pair sporting a reddened face, whether from anger or from exerting himself, none could say.
"Georgiana, pray tell, what are you doing with that man?" He asked gently.
"Oh!" She said pulling away from Mr. Wickham's form. "Fitzwilliam, I am sorry you had to discover us in this way, but we are in love. George and I wish to wed, but now we can do so with your blessing!" She clasped her hands in joy.
"Georgiana, please step away from the rocks. And come to me." Darcy said with outreached arms, but Wickham grabbed hold of her and brought her closer to the edge. One slip and one's fate was sealed.
"Wickham, let her go!" Darcy commanded.
"Not unless you give me one hundred thousand pounds."
"One hundred thousand pounds?"
"Yes."
"George, what are you talking of, once we wed, we will have everything we require to establish ourselves," Georgiana said in a light tone.
"Georgiana, he does not love you. He was after your dowry and now that I am here, he knows he will never have it. But if you step away from the wall, I can discuss with you a suitable amount Wickham."
With an eyebrow raised in a challenging manner, Wickham brought Georgiana against him, further from Darcy and all it would take was a small push and she would be gone from him.
The memory faded. Anger rose. Darcy poured himself another drink. He wished for the pain to dissipate. Why have happiness when it brings Grief? Grief who never seems to abandon his mind, or his heart. The shadow of Grief follows in his wake, with every action, every thought, and every breath. With a vengeful scream, Grief clawed his way into Darcy's heart and mind. But with the aid of liquor, Grief departs, dullness enters, and he is freed from the shackles of his mind.
But in time, Grief demands entry. Pounding upon the door into his mind, like a dam breaking hold, Grief floods into his body. The memories return and he is once again taken back to that day.
"Fitzy," Wickham used the old nickname for his "friend", drawing out the vowels. "I know you have a cheque on your person, I require one written to my name with the requested funds, or Georgiana here, falls." To prove his point he pushed her heels off the ledge, and she gripped Wickham tightly as if to escape the folds of death.
"George!" She cried. "Where has your heart gone? You proclaimed to love me, and now you wish to bring about my demise! You are not the man I thought you were. Don't pay him Fitzwilliam. I am sorry. I am a foolish child. Be well, I love you, brother."
"Georgiana, do not speak of death, for you will not die today," Darcy said pulling his cheques from his inner pocket. He wrote out the information and moved to hand it to Wickham but was too late.
In an instant, Wickham pulled away from the girl who lost her support. She felt the lack of ground beneath her as she wondered what it would be like to fly. An inescapable scream emitted from her as she made eye contact with her dear brother. As she made contact with the ground, her last thoughts were of her brother, he was always there for her. He loved her unconditionally and supported her curiosity. Without their parents, he filled the void their deaths brought. And now she would do the same to him. She prayed he could learn to be happy without her. That he could learn to love another, for he took on far too much and deserved such happiness. Georgiana hoped her brother would not drown in his sorrows, but she worried he would.
Darcy's eyes bulged as he witnessed her fall below, he ran to the edge and hoped to catch her but was too late. He saw the pain, and the wonder in her eyes and wished to give her comfort in her last moments. He was her closest family left, he deserved to be as close to her when she met her end. Her painful screams as she was left without the ground beneath her would haunt his nightmares.
The deafening sound ceased.
As Darcy glared at the glass, he reflected on his many mistakes. He could not bear to accept the pain and he swallowed the filled glass whole.
He rushed to the ground, forgetting his sister's murderer, and collapsed at her side. Her hair escaped from its coif and haloed around her head as if the angels accepted her innocence into their legions. The hair closest to her beautiful blonde head was darkened by the blood which was split. He cried at her side.
As she grew into a young woman, he oft-noted how she was a great likeness to her mother in every aspect, and now she too was taken from him. He wept as he noted the tear marks which marred her face. How dare that man take her compassionate heart and manipulate it so as to give it to such an undeserving man? He wiped the tears from her cheeks, though the tracks remained.
The lightness, the joy for life which emanated from her eyes was gone. In its absence, a void of darkness remained. He shut her eyes, for none should see them in such a state and only those who knew her in her prime, on her happiest days should have the memory of the brilliant blue hue.
He moved to hold her hand, to give comfort to her soul in the Heavens, but upon impact, the bones within shattered, instead of a firm hand, he held a lifeless, limp, dis-formed bloody mess. She deserved better and it was his fault.
"No!" He cried. "No, my dear sister! My dear Georgie! How shall I go on without you, without your smiles? Without your joy for life? You cannot be taken from me? How is this fair?" He screamed into the void of the nearby crashing waves.
He enfolded her in his arms as if his life depended upon it, for hers did and he was not enough to save her.
Darcy looked at the glass and the now empty decanter. The color of the bourbon itself was a mockery to his mind. As the light from the now fading candle shone upon the drink it was the sun in the darkness. It was Georgiana in his life, laughing and loving the beauty of the world around her. Grief opened the door and Anger took hold.
Darcy threw the mocking glass and its contents into the fireplace, and just like her presence in his life, it was gone.
Author's Note: This story will not be for the faint of heart. There will be a lot of angst, but I hope to accurately portray the actions and the pain of the characters. If you didn't catch it, in Darcy's unstable mind, he views grief and the emotions which accompany it, as all different personifications. Hence the capitalization, they are "people" to him. His reflections in his study are set one year to the date after her death, he is a mess and we will see how he handles being at fault for her death.
Also, each chapter title will correspond to a song, whether it be the title in this case or a lyric. I am honestly really excited about this part, and I hope you will get involved with this aspect of it as well. This chapter is "Let Her Go" by Passenger. I have a few chapters written, but every time I get the urge to write this story, I start crying...is anyone surprised though? Although if you want more of this, I might feel a greater desire to write in between homework for classes.
And another update: For those of you concerned about my health, I am doing better. I have good days and bad days. I am now on medication that has helped a lot and am officially gluten-free...which has been interesting.