AU Pride and Prejudice

NOTE: First chapter not changed a whole lot, Chapter 2 & 3 had MAJOR rewrites which is why I yanked the story.

Fan Fiction

Blindsided

Visitor

Ch. 1

The dining room of the Bennet family was spacious and elegant, with a mahogany table and a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The walls were adorned with portraits of their ancestors and a large fireplace that held no fire as it was the beginning of summer. The windows overlooked the garden, where the roses were in full bloom. In this warm and relaxing atmosphere, Mr. Bennet sat at the breakfast table, sipping his morning tea and reading the paper. He was unaware of the news that would soon disrupt his peaceful morning.

Meanwhile, the house felt empty, as Kitty and Mary were the only ones home; though that would not be for long, as they both away visiting Elizabeth at Pemberly. He had never admitted it to anyone, but it had hurt when Lydia had run off with Wickham, and looking back at things, he saw where it could have been prevented. Therefore, his own changes had started occurring.

He remembered how Mrs. Bennet had started whining, thinking - as in the past - that if she nagged enough, her husband would crumble. "It's just a dance, my dear, and Kitty is seventeen. Surely, Mrs. Forester would not do the same as last time with our sweet Lydia."

"She goes with Elizabeth, or she goes not at all." Mr. Bennet had not budged, much to the dismay of his wife.

However, no noise filled his ears now, even with his daughters visiting their sister as Mrs. Bennet had passed away shortly after Lydia's elopement. A strange fever had sprung up unawares. A doctor had been fetched, but alas, nothing could be done, and his wife had passed away; no one in the medical fiend had been able to tell him what from.

Afterwards, Mrs. Philips had begun filling his ear within a year of Mrs. Bennet's death, but Mr. Bennet had found himself reluctant to do so. Neither one of his girls was in need of a nurse, Jane was within a day's drive, and more than one respectable young man had come calling once Lydia had been taken out of the picture. So, Thomas had found himself with no real motivation.

That morning, he placed his newspaper down on the table, intending to go to his library in order to focus on his reading, and not the subject of his daughters who were - in his book - full grown women. However, just as he stood, a knock came at the door. Hence, instead of heading to his library, the gentleman went to the door, expecting to see maybe one of his neighbors or tenants. Nonetheless, what met his eyes pleasantly surprised him.

"Ivar? Ivar Gunnarson?" Mr. Bennet exclaimed as he opened the door. He laid a hand on one of the man's shoulders and shook his hand with the other. "I can hardly believe it is you! What are you doing down here? I thought you vowed to stick to our northern borders once we left the academy."

"I did, Thomas, trust me I did." Ivar said with a weary smile. He politey asked if they could talk privately. "I do not wish to be overheard." The gentleman's broad shoulders appeared to be weighed down with a great burden, and it was heard in his voice - as well as seen in his eyes.

"Yes, yes, of course." Mr. Bennet nodded and allowed his old schoolmate into his home. He led him down the corridor to his library. "No one will disturb us here." He shut the door, pointed to a chair and then sat behind his desk. "What is it you wish to discuss?"

"Do you recall the days of our youth? All the pranks we played?" Ivar asked, trying to lighten the mood. He smiled faintly as he remembered their mischief.

"I most assuredly do." Thomas chuckled. "Like switching signs on classroom doors in order to confuse the new students."

"Or balancing buckets full of water on top of doors intended to get students wet? Only to find the headmaster getting soaking wet?" Ivar added, laughing along.

"I remember that one." Thomas roared with laughter. "How about the time we poured salt into the sour-faced choir master's ice-cream?"

"I believe we got caught on that one. Had to eat our own prank." Ivar replied, still smiling. He then let out a long sigh as he ran his hand through his dark, thinning hair. "I might as well get to the point of why I have traveled so far, my old friend; for you are correct, I am far more comfortable in our northern borders than this far south." He stood up and began pacing the floor.

"If you recall, other than our pranks, your visits to us during the war…" Ivar said, lowering his voice. He did not mention which war as - in his mind - Thomas would know which one it was and he had a far weightier matter on hand to discuss. "were…life saving, literally, on more than one occasion. Once to my life and once to my father's. Do you remember exactly what the incidents were?"

"I do recall." Thomas said as he leaned back, folding his arms. He looked confused as to why he was being asked, but answered nonetheless. "I pushed you down to keep you from being shot; the bullet grazed me, but it was a mere flesh wound. The bullet never entered my arm."

"What about my father?" Ivar pressed, his eyes searching Thomas's face.

"He was being targeted by two men, I think. He was on his horse and I pulled him off. I took a bullet that time. It did damage to my upper thigh, but the doctor managed to get it out." Thomas shook his head when Ivar asked him if the leg ever bothered him. "No, surprisingly not." He leaned forward, his curiosity rising. "Why talk about it now? It has been years, I seldom think about those times; it is not like I was in the military; I just happened to be in the wrong place at the right time."

"What about my sister, Maja?" Ivar continued, his voice lowering.

"You are referring to the scoundrel who lied to her and attempted to rob your family of her dowry?" Thomas asked, his eyebrows raising. He saw Ivar nod his head and ask if he remembered any of the details. "Only that I stopped them late at night, grabbed the horse's reins from what I recall, and gave him a piece of my mind. Beyond that, I do not remember much other than your father, and I believe, one or two of your brothers coming out of the darkness on their horses at a very fast pace. Why are you asking?" He repeated, his tone showing he was trying not to be impatient.

"I will tell you, but first…" Ivar said as he sat down and clasped his hands. He sighed and looked at Thomas with a guilty expression. "I owe you a long over-due apology." When Thomas asked for what, Mr. Bennet' s friend replied. "For judging you harshly concerning your first wife, or should I say for your reputation of retreating into your library. I did not understand, I had Margaret for a wife. Yes, she could be a bit…flighty?..at times, but not overly, and there was no question her heart was always in the right place. We had a good, strong, marriage. I could not comprehend yours."

"You do now?" Thomas asked reservedly. He did not relish the idea Ivar now had first hand knowledge of what his had been like and, yet, he could tell by Ivar's face it was so.

"Yes, only now I wish my second wife, Matilda, fit into your first wife's category. For as much as your wife was known to try to push your daughters onto men at dances, or nag you into going to introduce yourself to new neighbors, I never heard - in all of my travels - of her pulling the stunts mine is now pulling." Ivar confessed, his eyes sad.

"That bad?" Thomas asked, his voice softening.

"Well, maybe, not that bad, but her actions have motivated my visit to you." He woud have continued on, only one of Mr. Bennet's servants knocked on the door with a message from a neighbor. Therefore, Thoms begged leave, promising to return as quickly as he could.