Disclaimer: As Usual

Summary: The Same

Chapter Thirteen

Darcy was not used to fighting alone.

Since the first time he had transformed, Fitzwilliam had been at his side, each an extension of the other. On the rare occasions that Fitzwilliam was elsewhere - on the Continent or in London - when Bingley located trouble, Georgiana had been present, distracting their opponent with illusions and healing the aftermath. He was holding firm against Miss Bingley, but he could hear rapid footsteps approaching, and a second opponent might tip the scales.

If he lost this fight...

For a second, he faltered, watching Miss Bingley's sword descend... only for a second, equally slender figure to slide gracefully between them, blocking the blow.

Any thought of defeat flew from Darcy's mind. Any thoughts at all, really. Nothing existed but Miss Elizabeth, fierce and defiant and protective, driving Miss Bingley back in a flurry of rapid strikes.

She wore something that approached a military-inspired walking dress, but more form than fashion, and held a sword with the confidence of one who was very familiar with its use.

There was a flicker of annoyance in her eyes, too. "Pray stop staring, Mr Darcy, and do something useful!"

Aunt Catherine would be furious when he proposed to Miss Elizabeth, but Darcy could not find it in himself to care. She was perfection itself, the most glorious and accomplished woman of his acquaintance. Perhaps he should introduce her to Georgiana first...

One of the younger Miss Bennets - Miss Catherine, if he recalled correctly - had slipped in as Miss Elizabeth drove a snarling Miss Bingley back, her hands flickering in brief motions that seemed to do nothing... until Miss Bingley stepped back again, and a magical trap flared to life, anchored by a runic array that Darcy had mistaken for beads fallen from Miss Bingley's turban or morning dress.

The remaining three sisters came flying into the room. Miss Lydia immediately sheathed her dirk and pulled Miss Catherine into a country jig usually danced at New Year, Twelfth Night, and the Planting Festival. It was meant to symbolise new beginnings and cleansing the fields of blight and pests.

Darcy barely had the time to marvel at Miss Lydia's ability to remember so many dances and pick the ideal one for the occasion, before the darkness poured back out of Miss Bingley, leaving her to collapse on the divan next to Mrs Hurst, and Miss Mary began to chant a powerful banishing spell, her voice resonating and echoing as if they were in a cavern rather than a study.

The Darkness writhed and struggled, and the eldest Miss Bennets joined their voices to their middle sister's, Miss Bennet's firm but compassionate tones an odd contrast to Miss Elizabeth's not-so-subtle threat. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the Darkness faded and dispersed, like smoke on the wind.

Miss Lydia beamed, bouncing cheerfully in place. "Hopefully it will stay banished this time, if it knows what is good for it. Is that all we need to do?"

Darcy cleared his throat, regretting his next words. "I fear that Miss Bingley was not the only victim," Ominous footsteps, drawing closer with the deliberate slowness of one who knows it's prey cannot or will not escape, punctuated his statement. "Do you need time before your next fight?"

Miss Lydia tossed her head imperiously, "I fought harder opponents than her when I was but five! Mary?"

Miss Mary shook herself, breathing deeply. "I am not so fatigued that I cannot remain."

Miss Catherine pulled a small flask from her reticule, handing it to her next oldest sister. "This will help, though you should expect to sleep late tomorrow. Energy borrowed has to come from somewhere."

Miss Mary downed the tonic, glowing briefly as it took effect. Miss Bennet glanced at the unconscious sisters, perhaps ensuring that they were still asleep, or perhaps planning. She appeared to be thinking quickly, "Who is the other who was possessed?"

Darcy winced, "Bingley himself. I do not know what caused his vulnerability, but it took me by surprise. We have been to several cursed estates and haunted places, but this is the first time he has been possessed."

Miss Bennet paled dramatically, swaying in place, and Miss Elizabeth reached out to steady her. "Priorities, Jane. We must save him, before you can fret about what this means for your future together."

Miss Bennet blushed, but straightened, unwinding a sling from where it had been tucked into her sash.

The thought of her actually wielding that was an unsettling one, mostly because Miss Bennet did not appear to be of a warrior's temperament. Miss Elizabeth must have seen his thoughts in his expression, because she frowned. "Don't underestimate her. Jane has turned the tide in our favour more than once."

Darcy would have to take her word for it, for at that moment the door burst open, revealing Bingley.

His most congenial and good-natured friend was almost unrecognizable, his eyes dark with despair and his face a mask of wrath. Miss Bennet wavered a moment, her serene counternance faltering to reveal deep concern for Bingley, before worry was replaced by determination. When she spoke, her voice was gentle and inviting. "Will you tell me what troubles you?"

Darcy was not even the target of Miss Bennet's focus, and still he fought the urge to unburden himself to a friendly ear. Wickham, his frustration that the wastrel would charm everyone he met and then flee, leaving Darcy to clean up the mess he left behind, again, his fear for Georgiana... He shoved the impulse to the back of his mind, and fell into a ready stance beside Miss Elizabeth. He also forced back the thought of how well they complimented each other in such a fashion, now was not the time.

Netherfield laughed through Bingley, dark and malevolent. "Why, you, my most irritating opponent! How could he ask for your hand, when his own sisters refuse to accept you? How would you see him, a man who would break with his family for his own desires? Would you accept him, or would you feel forced? Despair is a foreign emotion to one such as he, and it was easy to slip through."

Miss Lydia sighed loudly, rolling her eyes. "You really should marry him, Jane. You are both far too concerned with the opinions of others, and their happiness over your own. It will do neither of you harm to think of your own desires, for once."

Miss Catherine frowned, "Well, once we rid ourselves of this ongoing bother, anyway. Mr Bingley should be in his right mind when he offers for you, if only so no-one can question the validity of it."

Darcy wasn't sure that they were treating the situation as seriously as it deserved, and Netherfield seemed to agree, because Bingley turned on the younger sisters with an almost offended scowl. In doing so, he was blind to Miss Bennet pressing a hand over her heart, and drawing it back holding a glowing orb of light, as if her peaceful nature and belief in the good of others were a tangible thing that could be made manifest and draw out her foe's better nature. At the same time, Miss Elizabeth lunged, forcing Bingley to parry hastily.

Miss Catherine reached into her reticule, drawing out another handful of stones, sparkling with magic, glowing brighter as Miss Mary began chanting again. With Bingley so distracted, he failed to notice Miss Bennet until her whirling sling struck him squarely in the back of the head. She dodged his retaliatory strike, and let fly her missile, striking him squarely over the heart. Bingley staggered, his eyes clearing, and Darcy nearly missed the sound of running feet until Fitzwilliam burst into the room, already transformed.

Miss Lydia lit up like a candle, and darted between the combatants - between Miss Bennet, who wept as she readied another missile, and Bingley, so affected by her tears that he appeared to be fighting back Netherfield's influence himself - to seize Fitzwilliam's hand, whispering urgently as she pulled him into an unfamiliar dance.

In any other situation, this would be an unforgivable breech of propriety, but as Warriors against the Darkness, it could be overlooked. Fitzwilliam whispered back, then put his hand on Miss Lydia's waist in a hold rather like the scandalous waltz that had already been banned at Almacks, and sent most of Matlock House running for cover when Aunt Matlock caught Fitzwilliam teaching it to his younger sisters. Miss Lydia only beamed, and the two of them whirled into some kind of Continental partnered dance that took them in a wide circle around the other six.

Netherfield roared with rage as light swirled around Miss Lydia's feet, flowing around Bingley, stronger with each spin and delighted laugh. Miss Bennet let fly another glowing missile, and Bingley staggered and Miss Elizabeth and Miss Mary's voices rose to a triumphant shout.

Finally, their combined wills won out, and black mist streamed out of Bingley, once more trapped and dispersed into nothingness.

Miss Lydia slumped against Jasper, who steadied her. "Pray tell me that we shall not have to walk home, too."

Jasper smiled, I am certain Darcy will not mind the use of his carriage, once Georgiana arrives. You are quite the dancer, Miss...?"

Miss Lydia righted herself enough for a curtsy that wobbled only a little. "Miss Lydia Bennet, sir. The Milita officers have been something of a disappointment, as far as social graces go, and it would be such a shame to have gone through all this without dancing with a handsome officer at least once."

Fitzwilliam was solid and sensible, but he was also something of a flirt, and with Miss Lydia's height and development, he likely didn't realize that she was only sixteen. Darcy gave his cousin a meaningful look, which Fitzwilliam cheerfully ignored. "Well, then, if there is a ball or assembly before I am called back to duty, I shall be sure to dance with you then."

Miss Elizabeth had been watching the interaction with an air of amused resignation, as Miss Bennet hovered over Bingley. "Before we concern ourselves with another social occasion, I believe that Mr Bingley deserves to know what just happened, and we should remove ourselves from the chance of being overheard."

Her eyes darted to Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst, still unconcious where they had fainted. As much as he wished to avoid drawing Bingley further into this world than he already was - and the paperwork that would be involved when they informed the Bureau - Darcy had to conceed that she was right. Outside the window, he saw his carriage pull up, and Georgiana step out, all but marching toward the door, where a footman was running out to meet her. "Shall we use my study? I can perform the necessary introductions there."

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A/N: I'm not mean enough to leave you with last chapter's cliffhanger for too long...

Unfortunately, this means that we have now reached the start of the break, but I'll post an announcement along with the first chapter of "An Officer and A Gentleman".

Meanwhile, check out the links on my Profile.

Thanks

Nat