Darcy put on his armor with more care than usual. He and Elizabeth had been, honestly, cavorting around the countryside for four months. He was practically running away from work. He felt ashamed for a moment, but whenever he met her outside the wall it erased the shame. They went outside the city twice or thrice a week. It was frankly amazing how they had maintained their secrecy.
Elizabeth had seen to it without much help from him. She gave him various peasant clothes when he watched over her house. He felt a little naked being apart from his usual wholly black outfit, but Elizabeth had asked so charmingly that he was determined to do her bidding. She would him in almost random places. She had him creeping through the city, which was something he was not accustomed to. Sneaking through the shadows like a thief? The disgrace.
He would only do it for her.
He loved her. He was embarrassed to see Mrs. Gardiner wink at him when he had asked Elizabeth for a game of chess. She beat him soundly and very quickly, but he had a handicap. It was that he preferred to stare at her instead of watching the board. Her smile curled up more on the edges, making her face decidedly impish. And the way her amber eyes flashed when she curled up her lips into that smile to tease him banished complex thought from his mind.
He loved it most when they were out in the countryside. They would do whatever they wished. He had given up giving her reasons about work. She would laugh and tease him. He took her to see beautiful vistas nearby. They dined in bars and taverns. They raced, sometimes on horseback, other times climbing up cliffs or trees, once across a pond. She was as wild as she was imaginative.
But something always changed whenever they returned from the countryside. The moment they entered the city, no matter how the day went, she distanced herself from him. She became withdrawn and quiet. Not a laugh escaped her.
Darcy knew the cause.
The Bishop. He had isolated her from everyone. Men couldn't draw near her, which Darcy slightly appreciated, and women never got to be friends with her. She received letters and poems in spades from the Bishop. They were jammed under her door so that the family could hardly open it. Whenever she stepped outside her door, he was there. Whenever she returned home, he was there. It was good she had such experience climbing from windows. Darcy could hardly say anything to his superior, but he could make sure the Bishop and his men stayed out of the home.
Darcy was worried for her, but planned to put it to an end soon. She was his greatest friend and his most cherished companion. The days without seeing her were a disappointment. But he would see her today.
Today was a tournament. The neighboring guards had come from leagues around to attend the event. Darcy usually didn't care for tournaments. The security was a nightmare and so he usually didn't participate. This year, however, he had signed up for two events: the crossbow and swords. He secretly hoped Elizabeth would give him a token, though he hadn't mentioned it to her.
It was a three day tournament. He felt lucky that his events were on the same day. He could focus on his job the first day and half of the third. Elizabeth had mentioned her love of dancing and so Darcy was planning to meet her at the ball on the last night of the tournament, as Imperious had suggested. He planned to act then.
He left Goliath with a squire he recognized from his own stables. He lifted his visor to thank the lad. Then he marched to the sword pens. Hopeful apprehension rose in him with each search of passing people's faces. Then, he saw her.
She was cold, and withdrawn, hounded by the Bishop. Her eyes were focused on the ground at her feet, her arms around herself as the Bishop hovered. No other could approach her without the Bishop intervening. She lifted her eyes as though sensing him. It tore at his heart. Darcy marched towards them, determined to free her, but her eyes grew wide. She nodded over at another tent. Darcy may not like it, but it would save her some heart ache later. He changed course to the farside of the tent, out of the Bishop's view.
He had only waited a minute or so when he heard her. A moment later she rounded the corner and dashed over to him.
"What can I do for you, My Lady," Darcy murmured quietly, wanting to hold her close, but not wanting to spook her. In the end he just stood awkwardly and stared at her.
"I'm so tired Darcy," she said, "What if I asked you to help me run away?"
"Then we would leave as soon as you wished," he said, coming to stand a little closer to her. She rolled her eyes and grinned at the ground. Darcy was nearly overwhelmed in the desire to kiss her, but he refrained.
"I couldn't ask it of you," she finally said, looking up at him, "I know how important your honor as a Captain is."
"I would for you though," he insisted earnestly.
"I know that too, which is why I must save you from yourself," she said with a ghost of her impish grin. She reached into her pocket and produced a flimsy, lavender colored scarf. A token.
"You must be very careful Captain Darcy," she smiled at him. She tied her scarf around his upper arm and out of the way. He swelled with pride.
"I'd best go, before the Bishop comes to find me and dismisses you from your post and city," she said, darkening quickly. He thought she may be dramatic, but a part of him believed her. She gave him that unhappy smile again and turned to leave.
"Elizabeth, wait," Darcy said, taking her hand to stop her. She turned back to him curiously. He searched her eyes as he drew her close. Perhaps they should actually run away together? He pushed that thought away. He needed to fulfill his familial obligations first. Damn, he had to fulfill that life quest and he didn't want to put his family through that. He didn't want to put her through that.
"Good luck Captain Darcy, I'll be watching your competition," she said softly, as he stayed quiet for too long. He was likely to remain silent for the rest of the day. She turned to walk out the way she came and he turned to walk between tents to emerge on the other side of the clearing.
He listed in swords and marched over to the pen to meet his competitor. A sideways glance revealed Elizabeth had vanished from the area. Though, he noticed Jane was wandering with a gentleman. A cloaked hag was watching the pair. The hag smiled in a way that the edges of her mouth curled up more at the edges. The hag was also finding a way to watch Darcy through the competition.
Darcy fumed, nearly blinded by anger. His Elizabeth, his lady, was driven into this level of hiding by a so-called holy man. He used his temper to fuel his performance. And he was outraged.
By the time the first fight started, it was over. He emerged in victory, and anger. He traveled up the board quickly. One young knight even forfeited at seeing his name and thunderous expression. Through it all, Jane and her gentleman, Bingley, managed to stay to watch him. Thus, Elizabeth could also stay to smile at him with encouragement.
Before Darcy knew it he was in the final two. Acrossing the pen stood Wickham. That yellow hair Dane working for the false new Bishop. Wickham was known to be an unfair fighter and an underhanded man. In an actual fight Darcy didn't mind. But in a judged tournament, he was wary of Wickham.
The judge shouted and they began. Wickham was a good fighter to be sure, but this felt less like a competition and more like an actual fight. At one point Wickham threw a handful of mud into Darcy's visor and tackled him in his blindness. But the tackle knocked the mud free and he was able to beat that yellow haired Dane down for a win.
Darcy marched away from Wickham and up to the judges stand. Upon seeing the token on Darcy's arm, the judge asked if his lady would like to bestow his medal.
"That's private," Darcy said, taking his medal and walking off the podium. But his Lady in disguise was coming to him, and her shadow, the Bishop near her. Before Elizabeth could even smile at him, Darcy abruptly turned to the Bishop, blocking out Elizabeth with his own form so that the man couldn't see her.
"You must accept my congratulations Captain Darcy. Very impressive sword play here. You've certainly earned your title as captain of the guard," the bishop said. Darcy never liked how the man said Captain, as if it were an insult.
"Thank you, your grace," was all the reply the Bishop received. With a derisive smile he offered to place the medal around Darcy's neck.
"Thank you again, your grace. But I would rather wait until my Lady can," Darcy said with a bow.
"How romantic," the Bishop smiled, but Darcy could hear a sneer in the response. He bristled at the disrespect, but could do nothing to his superior. Instead, he bowed and mentioned he was due at the archery range.
"I am curious to see it," the bishop said, scanning the crowd. Elizabeth was sitting within hearing, but out of conscious sight.
"Whatever pleases your grace," Darcy said with a bow. The Bishop gave a tight, small, wicked smile and went to walk with Darcy.
"Where is your lady, Captain?" the Bishop said after a few steps, "I would have thought she would have met you by now."
"She's feeling ill currently," Darcy lied quickly. From the corner of his eye he saw that Elizabeth was following. He knew she would have laughed at that had they been out in some little town.
"Such a shame," the Bishop said, "shall I send someone to tend to her?"
"Nothing so terrible, your grace, just a headache," Darcy said, hoping she could hear him. They could talk about it later and she would tease him about what a liar he'd become.
"Be sure to let me know. The ladies must be watched over" the Bishop smiled magnanimously at Darcy. "Speaking of which, how have the Gardiners and the Bennet lady been handling their little scare?"
"As well as can be expected," Darcy said, keeping the edge from his voice. How dare he? The Bishop was the cause of the scare!
"They could always move to the cathedral for a time," the Bishop said, "so that you can have your evenings to do your actual work."
"That won't be necessary. It would be too much trouble to move the children, and the cathedral is meant to be a place of quiet," Darcy said. And of peace, but with such a Bishop as you there can be none.
"Then perhaps delegating? You can place Wickham as a guard there," the Bishop pressed.
"Has my work been lacking since taking this assignment?" Darcy mildly challenged, stopping his pace and looking the Bishoo in his dark eyes. Darcy suppressed a shiver when their eyes met. The man looked so pale and serene, but those eyes held such malice.
"No," the Bishop smiled, "you've been just the same as ever. I just worry for your health, and for the family's. What if you were to fall asleep on duty?"
"I will not," Darcy said firmly, continuing to walk to the archery field.
Thankfully they made it to the archery field, where they parted ways. The Bishop going to his seats, and Darcy going to the line up.
He met the amber eyes of the cloaked hag, now with a handkerchief pulled up over her nose. He stared at her, unable to smile in case the Bishop looked over. She gazed back almost fiercely.
He had to save her.
He was angry that he could do nothing to the Bishop on the walk over. He felt like he had failed Elizabeth. He wanted her to see his competence to make up for his failure. It was such a strong drive that he took first in the cross bow as well.
He gave the same reply to this judge in regards to his lady. Thankfully, the Bishop didn't meet him again that day. Regrettably, neither did Elizabeth.