Chapter 8
"You wished to see me, Father?"
A tall man with golden hair and bright blue eyes looked up from the parchment he was studying and rested a smiling gaze upon his son. "Ah, Eavan, you are home at last. Have you seen your mother yet?" he asked as his forehead suddenly furrowed with worry.
Laughing at his father's concern Eavan replied, "I have not. I have only just arrived and was told that you wished to see me immediately."
"While it is true that I require your attendance, you should not have come to me until you had greeted your mother."
"If that is the case, Father, then why did you tell your man to summon me upon my return?"
"I wish you would stop laughing, son. This is serious. I would have thought that you would have understood that while answering my summons, nothing could top the import of your mother wishing to see your safe return."
"Come now, Father," Eavan replied slightly sobered. "How was I to know that I needed to attend Mother first? Your man made it sound quite urgent."
"Well, yes, it is. But your Mother has been quite worried with your delay." Eavan watched amused as his father nervously shifted from foot to foot. He had never understood why his father, the most powerful fairy in all the realms, would be afraid of a less powerful being, let alone a woman. Many years ago he had sworn that he would never allow himself to bow to a woman's whims before his own as his father did. At these thoughts, the image of a pair of emerald green eyes arose in his mind quite unbidden. Not wishing to contemplate the meaning of such a vision he turned his attention back to his Father.
"I do believe, sir that she will quite understand given the circumstances. I was after all, never in any danger."
"Yes, I am well aware of your capabilities, but I do fear that you are quite underestimating your Mother's wrath should she find you have returned home and not spoken to her first. I knew you would return safe and all would be well, but your Mother...well she..."
"Well I what, Adair?" demanded a loud voice from behind the two men. With a smile Eavan turned to face his mother only to shrink at the sight of her displeasure. No matter how many seasons he had lived, his mother always had a way of making him feel as though he was still a little child being scolded for setting enlarged toads loose among mortal chambermaids. As he pondered that memory though, he found that her displeasure was lessened then due to her hidden amusement; there was no amusement behind her anger now.
"Mother," he said as he bowed low and bestowed a kiss upon her outstretched hand.
"And just where exactly have you been? And why did you not seek me out immediately upon your arrival?" she asked with a steely voice.
"I was informed by Damen that His Majesty required my attendance. I understood it to be urgent."
"More urgent than notifying your mother of your safe return?" she asked, sparks flying from her sapphire eyes.
"Anthea, my darling, Eavan was simply following orders. I did not realize Damen would be waiting for him to..."
"You did not realize? You tell that man of yours to do anything and he will follow your orders down to the last unseen detail!" She glared at her husband as he bowed his head to her greater understanding. "As for you," she said turning once more to her son and crossing her arms across her chest, "you have failed to answer my question as of yet."
Shifting nervously, Eavan glanced at his mother's determined face, trying to figure out how much he should say. Hesitatingly he said, "I was delayed a few days by a group of mortals who were out celebrating the harvests. As you are aware, Mother, I could not adequately prepare the land for winter while they were present. Their many rituals and celebrations lasted for three days. It was quite fascinating."
Sighing with relief, he watched as his mother released the tension in her body at his explanation. Rushing forward, she enveloped her son in her arms and said, "Well if that is all, then you must promise me to send a message next time. When you did not return on time, I had feared the worse! Then your father was unable to postpone the first storm of the season, and I was quite distraught with worry."
As he continued to embrace his mother, Eavan looked over her shoulder and noticed the frown and hard look in his father's eyes. Looking away guiltily, he realized that while his mother might have fallen for his half truth, his father had not. Wishing to reassure her further, and hopefully ease his father's anger he said, "There was no need to worry about me, Mother. I am not a youngling anymore, but almost fifty winters. I am capable of taking care of myself. "
Silently, his mother pulled away and bestowed a kiss upon his cheek. Turning to her husband, who quickly donned a smile, she said, "Do not keep him too long, my love. As soon as you are finished send him upstairs where I will have dinner waiting for him so that he might rest and recover from his journey. As for not worrying, I will always worry about you Eavan no matter how many winters you have seen. It is after all a mother's prerogative."
With that, the two men watched as the Queen strode from the room, although to Eavan it looked more as if she was floating away although her wings remained still. As soon as they were once again left alone, Adair turned to his son, frustration clear upon his face. "The whole truth if you please, Eavan. Those were no mere mortals you came across."
"You are correct as always, sir." Unable to hold his father's angry gaze, he looked down towards his feet. "I came across a group of druids and allowed my curiosity to get the better of me."
"For three days!"
Flinching, at the harsh tone in his father's voice, he simply replied "yes, sir."
He watched unsure of what to say when his father surprised him by wrapping him in his own embrace. Choking back his sudden emotion at his father's loving actions, he said, "I know you believe them to be dangerous, sir, but I promise you I saw nothing of the kind and remained hidden the entire time. I was not seen."
Pulling away slightly, Adair placed his hands on his son's shoulders and forced him to hold his gaze. "There was a time I would have agreed with you, son; but that time is gone. While most druids are not dangerous, there are a few who learned how to harness the powers of the sorcerers they killed. I know not how many are out there with that power, or even how it was accomplished, but you can never be too cautious. Son, promise me that you will not go near the druids again? Who knows what they would do to you if you came across one of the dangerous ones."
Shocked at his father's words, Eavan nodded solemnly. "Why have you not told anyone before?"
"I did not want to cause panic. It is for this reason we have withdrawn from amongst the mortals. The druids cannot be trusted."
"I understand, sir, and I promise you I will not disobey you again."
"Thank you!" With a large smile, Adair patted his son on the shoulder. "Now, is there anything else about your trip you would wish to share with me?"
Thoughts of the elfish woman, Iliana as he now knew her to be called, began to crowd his mind. Although she had at first angered him, he had come to admire her wit and quickness of mind as they spent time sheltered from the storm together. The need to share his confusing thoughts and feelings with his father, who had always been his closest friend and confidant, was suddenly crushed by the desire to keep the knowledge of her existence to himself. Unsure why, he turned a small smile upon his father and stated that nothing else out of the ordinary had happened.
"In that case, why don't we hurry up with our discussion. I would not wish to face your mother's displeasure at keeping you from your dinner for too long."
Sharing a laugh, the two men eagerly turned to the parchment the King had been studying earlier. Although they discussed many things, the thoughts of one man were on a pair of green eyes laughing at him while the other smiled to himself at the knowledge that something more had indeed happened. The fact that his son refused to share with him could only mean one thing. The Prince had finally met his equal in a woman.
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Turning sharply in his saddle, Darcy looked around the nearby fields searching for any sign of life that should not be there. Discouraged at finding nothing, he faced forward again only to notice his friends' concerned look.
"I say, Darcy, you are in quite a high dudgeon this morning. Whatever could it be that has you so distracted? I have never seen you act like this," Bingley said with a furrowed brow.
"Bingley, do you ever feel as though you are being watched?"
"Certainly; I call the feeling Caroline."
"You know that is not what I meant." Darcy replied struggling to keep a straight face.
Chuckling, Bingley turned to look at his friend only to be arrested by the lines of worry etched upon Darcy's face. "Come now, man, I have never known you to be superstitious. Truly whatever it is that you feel must be imagined."
Snorting at his friends' comment, Darcy could not help but wonder what Bingley would say if he only knew about his past. Not superstitious, indeed. How could he not be when he was always dying shortly after being reunited with his true love? However, not wishing to give Bingley cause for concern, Darcy simply replied that he must be right.
Although they continued to ride in silence, Darcy could not shake the feeling that there was someone out there watching him. Ever since the moment in the library when he had first felt it, the sensation had not disappeared. In fact, the feeling had increased drastically when he had kissed Miss Elizabeth.
Despair suddenly overcame him as he once again reflected on that moment. He knew he had made a rash decision freezing time, but he could not regret the brief moment when Iliana had once again been with him. He had seen the recognition in her changing eyes after their kiss and had rejoiced at his success. Without warning, however, the unknown presence, which had been following him for three days now, had increased and he watched as all green traces vanished from her eyes. She was once again lost to him.
Darcy wished he knew who was watching him, and why this being felt the need to prevent Miss Elizabeth from regaining her memories. Never before had they come across any interference, and suddenly someone wanted to prevent their being together.
Forcing back a harsh laugh, Darcy reconsidered his last thought. He had always known who it was that wanted to keep them apart, and why. What he could not understand is why they would want to prevent her from remembering, if that unknown presence was indeed who he feared it to be. He knew that those who wished them harm rejoiced in the bitter disappointment they faced every time they were almost joined in union; it was why they were always allowed to remember and be reunited before dying. Yet despite his fear, his determination to help her had only grown; he could not face them alone.
Before he knew it, Darcy found himself entering the small town of Meryton. Bingley had been most determined to call on the Bennet's the day before to check up on the health of Miss Bennet. Reluctantly, Darcy had convinced his friend that to do so the day after she had returned home was not proper and that he must wait a day despite his own eagerness to see Miss Elizabeth.
After she had left the library that day, Miss Elizabeth had avoided all contact with him beyond the merest of civilities. The following day when she had returned to Longbourn with her sister, he had offered her his hand to assist her into the carriage which she had openly refused. While his friend mourned the loss of the eldest Miss Bennet, Darcy had struggled to keep his own despair to himself.
As they rode through town, Bingley noticed a small gathering and began to become excited. A simple glance towards the group was enough to let Darcy know that she was there. As they approached, Darcy saw four of the Bennet sisters accompanied by three unknown gentlemen.
Upon reaching the group, Bingley quickly dismounted, followed at a slower pace by his friend. Both gentlemen bowed to which the ladies replied with curtseys.
Addressing the eldest Miss Bennet Bingley said, "How fortunate that we should meet you here. We were just on our way to Longbourn to inquire after your health."
"I thank you, sir," she replied with a small blush. "As you can see I am quite recovered." As she began to introduce Bingley to the man standing next to her dressed in a cleric's garb, Darcy turned his attention towards the rest of the group, hoping to catch a glimpse of hope from his beloved. However, before he could glance at her, his attention was captured by the other two gentlemen in the group. One was a Mr. Denny to whom he had been introduced to at a dinner with officers the previous week. The other was none other than his former childhood friend; George Wickham.
Anger overcame him as Wickham met his eyes. He was pleased to see that at least the man had the gall to pale in his presence, yet his pleasure did not last long. Wickham quickly composed himself and touched his hat in greeting. Fury soon overcame his anger as Darcy was forced, per the proper decorum he was beginning to despise more and more, to return the gesture. As he did so though, he did not fail to notice that while everyone else's attention was focused on Miss Bennet and Bingley, Miss Elizabeth had not missed the hostile interaction.
Fury turned to concern as Darcy contemplated what Wickham's presence in the area could mean for his hopes with Miss Elizabeth. If he showed even the slightest regard for her, the man would not hesitate to do all in his power to poison her mind against him; as if he hadn't already done that by himself, he thought. However, he also knew her well enough to know that she would not let her observation go unknown. Her curiosity would overwhelm her until she asked one of the gentlemen why they disliked each other so. Regretfully he admitted that she would not turn to him and would instead approach Wickham. What lies would he then tell her?
Darcy knew that he had to warn her, protect her, and that to do so he needed to talk privately to her. Groaning to himself, he knew there was only one way to guarantee her cooperation in doing so as her dislike for him would prevent her willingness to converse. Once again, he froze time.
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Needing a reprieve from the attentions of her odious cousin Mr. Collins, Elizabeth had been enjoying the company of Mr. Denny and his charming friend Mr. Wickham when she suddenly felt her heart skip a beat. Looking up she noticed two gentlemen on horseback riding their way. She did not need to see their faces to know that one of them was Mr. Darcy.
Despite her best efforts, she had not been able to forget her short hallucination in the library at Netherfield. Ever since that moment, he had been a constant presence in her thoughts. At night she found herself dreaming of many men, all with his eyes, whispering words of love to her. Despite the fact that the only similar feature each man had was the eyes, she could not help but feel that they were all related somehow, and that she knew each one. The effect they had on her was the same as what she felt whenever she thought of Mr. Darcy.
She had been so relieved to leave Netherfield two days ago, that she refused to acknowledge the hurt and emptiness inside her heart; a hurt that was only relieved by his presence among her company now.
Not wanting to meet his eyes, as she was sure they would undo her resolve to hate him, she watched in utter fascination as Mr. Wickham turned white upon recognizing Mr. Darcy. Unable to keep her curiosity at bay, she turned her gaze towards Mr. Darcy only to see his face red in anger and his eyes devoid of their normal blue. Shocked she watched the uncomfortable interaction between the two, wondering what history they could possibly have together. Although she told herself that Mr. Darcy, being the proud and arrogant man that he was, would be the one at fault, her heart would not agree.
Hoping that neither one had noticed her observations, she was disappointed to see Mr. Darcy glancing at her with resignation in his eyes. Suddenly she felt the world around her stop as her heart beat faster. She knew what was coming, and closing her eyes began to pray that she was having yet another hallucination.
"Miss Elizabeth?"
Opening her eyes, she looked into his own filled with concern gazing at her. A quick glance at the others confirmed her suspicions; he had somehow managed to freeze time yet again. Scared, she began to shake her head as tears rolled down her face.
"Please, Miss Elizabeth, do not cry I beg of you!" Mr. Darcy pleaded quietly as he reached up with a handkerchief to wipe her eyes. "What bothers you so?"
Shocked at his gentleness, she began to speak, surprised at being able to do so this time. "Why? Why do you torture me with these hallucinations? I care nothing for you, yet you have somehow managed to bewitch me. This cannot be possible, yet this is the third time it has happened."
Bestowing a sad smile upon her he said, "Indeed, I know not how or why you have such dreams, but I beg of you to listen to me any way. For whether any of this is real or not, what I have to say is true."
Nodding reluctantly, she began to feel the same fear that came upon her in the library.
"Thank you, Miss Elizabeth. Mr. Wickham is not a man to be trusted. Although he is fortunate to be blessed with a happy disposition, he leaves behind him debts of many kind. You and your sisters are not safe from him. Please, despite what you may think of me, I beg of you to believe me and to not allow that man to gain favor with your family."
"I will consider what you have said, Mr. Darcy, and I thank you for your concern."
Bowing low, he turned away from her. Closing her eyes against the sudden emotion she felt, she failed to notice the world return to normal.
"Miss Elizabeth, are you alright?"
Startled she looked up expecting to see Mr. Darcy addressing her, only to see the concerned eyes of Mr. Wickham. Looking around, she noticed Mr. Bingley and his friend riding away. Confused as to what exactly had just passed, she heard a deep voice whisper in her ear, "The mind loves to play tricks upon the confused of heart. Pay no mind to what you believe to have just happened. Now I believe this gentleman is waiting on your answer."
Turning a gentle smile towards Mr. Wickham, Elizabeth forced her confusing emotions aside and replied, "Yes, I thank you, sir. I believe I have simply overdone myself this morning."
"In that case, Miss Elizabeth, may I have the pleasure of escorting you to your Aunt's house with your sisters."
"I would be honored, thank you," she said as she took his proffered arm. As they followed her sisters down the road, she turned to see Mr. Darcy watching her with a slight frown upon his face.
