If I wrote Kittyfic
Aug. 3rd, 2009 03:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
anghraine. . . it would be like this:
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Title: Untitled
Fandom: Austen (PRIDE AND PREJUDICE)
Fanverse: N/A (interstitial)
Major Characters: Catherine (Kitty) Bennet; Elizabeth Bennet; Fitzwilliam Darcy
Pairings/Warnings: Fitzwilliam Darcy/Elizabeth Bennet
Length: One-shot
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Catherine Bennet eyed the pair walking in front of her. It was all most awkward. They always seemed so uncomfortable, stealing glances at each other, almost starting to speak then stopping without a sound. She had never known two people who really disliked each other, but it somehow seemed a very peculiar way to go about it.
After several minutes, she could no longer bear it. The tension ate at her nerves (oh dear, I sound like Mama), and she was terribly afraid of Mr Darcy. He had never seemed aware of her existence, but he might notice her, and then he would see how silly she was, and say something sarcastic and crushing like Papa, and, even if she was used to that, it was quite different coming from a handsome young man, even if he was Mr Darcy, than from Papa who she could not imagine ever being young.
“Lizzy, may I call on Maria Lucas?” she blurted out. Horrifyingly, both turned to look at her. Kitty cringed. He was looking at her. She had never felt more insignificant in her life. There was, to be honest, no trace of disdain in his expression (or anything at all, for that matter), but that was scarcely comforting. Without Lydia, she was beneath contempt. How terrible that was! This romantic realisation comforted her somewhat and she felt rather better as she hurried away.
That evening, as she went past her sisters’ bedrooms, she could hear Elizabeth laughing. I’m glad everything is back to normal now, she thought contentedly. Lizzy has been so dour lately.
But the next day, Elizabeth was quiet and pale, jumping at small sounds; however, when Catherine looked for her outside, she smiled brilliantly and seemed hardly able to stop laughing. It was all very strange; strange until she overheard her mother shrieking and went to see what the matter was. “Lizzy, is something wrong with Mama?”
Elizabeth started, then turned with a resigned expression. “No,” she said, smiling faintly, “she is only very happy.”
Catherine’s brow furrowed. “Whatever for? Mr Bingley is very nice, but why would she be screaming about him?”
Elizabeth sighed. “She is — that is, I am, I am also engaged to be married.”
It was suddenly unreal. She had thought Elizabeth would always be there, to admire from a distance and even emulate now that there was no Lydia. “No!” she exclaimed; then, “I mean, who could you be engaged to? It couldn’t be any one we know, and the only strangers are Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy.”
Elizabeth said nothing, but smiled. Catherine thought of Mr Darcy and Elizabeth sneaking looks at one another during that long awkward walk, and coming back so much later than everyone else; and of terrifying Lady Catherine coming to visit; and of Mr Darcy at Lydia’s wedding. “You and Mr Darcy?” she repeated. “But, Lizzy, why would he want you?” She blushed. “That is, he could have anyone he likes, a countess or a duke’s daughter or anything.”
“He likes me,” said Elizabeth, with a peculiar sort of half smile.
“Oh,” said Kitty rapturously, quite forgetting her fear of the man, “how romantic, Lizzy. To think, you shall be Mrs Darcy, and the finest of us all! To think that he should be in love with you all this time! Enough to marry you! And how rich you shall be! I should not have dreamt it, although I did think you were acting very strangely the other day. Oh, did he ask you when I went away?”
“Yes, Kitty,” Elizabeth said patiently.
“And that was the day you were so long in coming back! Why, whatever did you talk about for such a time?”
Elizabeth quite unaccountably blushed. “That,” she said firmly, “is none of your concern, Catherine. You should go to bed.”
She sighed, but obeyed, only turning once to look back at her sister. “Now, will you be happy again, Lizzy?”
“Yes,” Elizabeth said. “I believe I shall.”
[Note: I really don't like Kitty Sue - you know, the only reason she ever seems silly and petulant to her imperceptive sisters/father/brother-in-law is because Lydia's malign influence throws a shadow over her Suepowerz of beauty, charisma, wit, vivacity, perception, etc etc. In fact, she either is or will become her sister Elizabeth, only better. Elizabeth with a dash of Jane, basically.
(The same goes for Mary Sue herself, who makes Kitty Sue look like a rank amateur - sans evil!Lydia, of course. She has evil!Mr Bennet instead. But this isn't about her.) Instead I came up with this extremely short story after a particularly unpleasant rash of Sues. (Horses come in herds. Kittens come in litters. Sues come in rashes.)]
---------------------
Title: Untitled
Fandom: Austen (PRIDE AND PREJUDICE)
Fanverse: N/A (interstitial)
Major Characters: Catherine (Kitty) Bennet; Elizabeth Bennet; Fitzwilliam Darcy
Pairings/Warnings: Fitzwilliam Darcy/Elizabeth Bennet
Length: One-shot
---------------------
Catherine Bennet eyed the pair walking in front of her. It was all most awkward. They always seemed so uncomfortable, stealing glances at each other, almost starting to speak then stopping without a sound. She had never known two people who really disliked each other, but it somehow seemed a very peculiar way to go about it.
After several minutes, she could no longer bear it. The tension ate at her nerves (oh dear, I sound like Mama), and she was terribly afraid of Mr Darcy. He had never seemed aware of her existence, but he might notice her, and then he would see how silly she was, and say something sarcastic and crushing like Papa, and, even if she was used to that, it was quite different coming from a handsome young man, even if he was Mr Darcy, than from Papa who she could not imagine ever being young.
“Lizzy, may I call on Maria Lucas?” she blurted out. Horrifyingly, both turned to look at her. Kitty cringed. He was looking at her. She had never felt more insignificant in her life. There was, to be honest, no trace of disdain in his expression (or anything at all, for that matter), but that was scarcely comforting. Without Lydia, she was beneath contempt. How terrible that was! This romantic realisation comforted her somewhat and she felt rather better as she hurried away.
That evening, as she went past her sisters’ bedrooms, she could hear Elizabeth laughing. I’m glad everything is back to normal now, she thought contentedly. Lizzy has been so dour lately.
But the next day, Elizabeth was quiet and pale, jumping at small sounds; however, when Catherine looked for her outside, she smiled brilliantly and seemed hardly able to stop laughing. It was all very strange; strange until she overheard her mother shrieking and went to see what the matter was. “Lizzy, is something wrong with Mama?”
Elizabeth started, then turned with a resigned expression. “No,” she said, smiling faintly, “she is only very happy.”
Catherine’s brow furrowed. “Whatever for? Mr Bingley is very nice, but why would she be screaming about him?”
Elizabeth sighed. “She is — that is, I am, I am also engaged to be married.”
It was suddenly unreal. She had thought Elizabeth would always be there, to admire from a distance and even emulate now that there was no Lydia. “No!” she exclaimed; then, “I mean, who could you be engaged to? It couldn’t be any one we know, and the only strangers are Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy.”
Elizabeth said nothing, but smiled. Catherine thought of Mr Darcy and Elizabeth sneaking looks at one another during that long awkward walk, and coming back so much later than everyone else; and of terrifying Lady Catherine coming to visit; and of Mr Darcy at Lydia’s wedding. “You and Mr Darcy?” she repeated. “But, Lizzy, why would he want you?” She blushed. “That is, he could have anyone he likes, a countess or a duke’s daughter or anything.”
“He likes me,” said Elizabeth, with a peculiar sort of half smile.
“Oh,” said Kitty rapturously, quite forgetting her fear of the man, “how romantic, Lizzy. To think, you shall be Mrs Darcy, and the finest of us all! To think that he should be in love with you all this time! Enough to marry you! And how rich you shall be! I should not have dreamt it, although I did think you were acting very strangely the other day. Oh, did he ask you when I went away?”
“Yes, Kitty,” Elizabeth said patiently.
“And that was the day you were so long in coming back! Why, whatever did you talk about for such a time?”
Elizabeth quite unaccountably blushed. “That,” she said firmly, “is none of your concern, Catherine. You should go to bed.”
She sighed, but obeyed, only turning once to look back at her sister. “Now, will you be happy again, Lizzy?”
“Yes,” Elizabeth said. “I believe I shall.”
[Note: I really don't like Kitty Sue - you know, the only reason she ever seems silly and petulant to her imperceptive sisters/father/brother-in-law is because Lydia's malign influence throws a shadow over her Suepowerz of beauty, charisma, wit, vivacity, perception, etc etc. In fact, she either is or will become her sister Elizabeth, only better. Elizabeth with a dash of Jane, basically.
(The same goes for Mary Sue herself, who makes Kitty Sue look like a rank amateur - sans evil!Lydia, of course. She has evil!Mr Bennet instead. But this isn't about her.) Instead I came up with this extremely short story after a particularly unpleasant rash of Sues. (Horses come in herds. Kittens come in litters. Sues come in rashes.)]
no subject
on 2009-08-04 04:24 am (UTC)Naive!Kitty ftw. :D
no subject
on 2009-08-05 02:59 am (UTC)Heeeeeee! Too busy to know anything about several miles indeed. and Kitty, heh. She might make a fun narrator sometime, or she and Georgiana paired, because she does notice things, she just doesn't understand them. So plenty of opportunities for win!
no subject
on 2009-08-05 02:24 am (UTC)hate youthink you should do it more often.Sues come in rashes.
A++ would LOL again.
Well . . .
on 2009-08-05 03:02 am (UTC)Hee! They do, really. Though now I have the mental image of House Sparklypoo composing a literal rash on a giant muse.