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Fantastic Austen strikes again
Two more P&P fantasy drabbles - one which should be self-explanatory, and another wherein vampire!Wickham gets his just desserts:
--------------------------
Title: Hunsford
Fandom: Austen (PRIDE AND PREJUDICE)
Fanverse: Fantasyverse (AU)
Blurb: She could see his face change, gain in austerity, and he stepped back as if she had struck him.
Major Characters: Elizabeth Bennet; Fitzwilliam Darcy
Pairings/Warnings: magic, mental intrusion
Length: One-shot
----------------------------
(Written for Drabblefest 31, 'Weekend')
‘-- and that I rejoice in my success.’
Elizabeth was so livid that she could practically feel the mould sprouting in the corners of the house. She would have to uproot it.
Eventually. At present she hoped it would poison the man in front of her.
‘Your sister--’ he said, every word clipped. ‘Do you pretend to think that she felt anything beyond the most trifling affection for my friend?’
‘That is your opinion of her? That she would marry on such-- ‘trifling’ feelings? My sister, of all people, could never confuse a passing infatuation with heartfelt love, she is the most empathetic person in the world.’
He looked at her as if she had sprouted horns, the blood draining out of his face. Elizabeth wondered if his particular gift was to infuriate vast numbers of people by his mere presence.
‘Your sister-- is an empath.’
‘What else?’ She was almost near to feeling something akin to pity -- she forced her thoughts around to Wickham, his gracious, agreeable aspect, his dreadful poverty. Why should Jane’s magic matter to him? What did he know of others’ feelings? ‘But that is not the only cause of repugnance.’
Minutes later, he gave her a cold, level stare that erased any compassion she might have felt for him and left her, despite herself, rather unnerved. She could see his face change, gain in austerity, and he stepped back as if she had struck him. He stopped mid sentence, then gathered himself together, concluded -- ‘and please accept my best wishes for your health and happiness.’
The instant he left Elizabeth felt drained of all the assurance that had carried her through the scene. She sat down, and cried. She longed for Jane-- the weekend could not come soon enough.
And, somewhere, in a barely conscious, angrily ignored, part of her mind, she wondered that he had not used his power, whatever it was, to coerce her when he could so easily have done so.
--------------------------
Title: Persuasion
Fandom: Austen (PRIDE AND PREJUDICE)
Fanverse: Fantasyverse (AU)
Blurb: Wickham gets his just desserts, and Darcy revealshis powerset exactly why he's an archmage. (Note: Don't screw with empaths.)
Major Characters: Elizabeth Bennet; Fitzwilliam Darcy; George Wickham
Pairings/Warnings: Fitzwilliam Darcy/Elizabeth Bennet; character death, magic, mental intrusion/manipulation, suicide (sorta - see the aforementioned manipulation, and the note)
Length: One-shot
----------------------------
(Written for Halloween 2006, 'Scary Drabblefest.')
The moment when Elizabeth had seen the vampire sunk into her mind as deeply as his fangs did into Lydia's neck. Her poor, silly sister had given one shriek before collapsing into his arms. Elizabeth met the creature's eyes and cried aloud.
It was Wickham.
Everything Darcy had said sprang into her mind. He had not known, for certain, but suspected -- scattered words went through Elizabeth's mind as she ran after him.
Lydia -- Lydia -- Lydia --
-- lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil --
‘Miss Bennet? Miss Bennet? Elizabeth!’
Blinded by tears and rage, it took no effort for Darcy to stop her in her path. ‘What are doing? Do you not know what night it is?’
She struggled to free herself. ‘He has her -- he took her -- please, I have to stop him --’
‘Stop who?’
‘Wickham.’ She gasped for breath. ‘He has Lydia, he took her, I have to catch him, before --’ She began sobbing, violently, uselessly. ‘But what can be done? We are only wizards, I cannot stop him, I know very well nothing can be done.’
And then she remembered to whom she spoke. ‘I beg your pardon, Miss Bennet’ he said grimly, and whirled, hurrying. Elizabeth ran to keep up.
‘You should not be here,’ he said, ‘I will manage Wickham.’
‘Lydia will need me.’
She had always thought that all wizards were basically the same, natural mages who could make things grow, sometimes send for a little rain in particularly bad harvests, all but the most powerful looked down upon by the mage-lords in Parliament.
Darcy was a wizard, as she was, as her father; but his mother, she had been a mage-lord, and all her family; if he had inherited anything, anything at all--
She was infuriated with his deliberation and ran ahead, the rocks tearing at her feet.
‘Elizabeth!’
Wickham was about to take flight. Elizabeth put forth the last of her power; vines crawled from the earth, wrapped around his legs and torso. There was a moment of hope before Wickham shook them off as if they were no more than thread.
‘Poor little hedge-witch,’ he sneered, ‘not even worth breeding -- ’
There was a mere whisper from behind her; and then Wickham froze, his eyes wide with fear. His arms dropped loosely at his side, his mouth dropped open. Elizabeth knew Darcy must be behind her, but they had been face to face before, and there had been nothing like this. And then Wickham began to scream, as if in the uttermost torment.
Darcy took several steps forward, until he stood a little ahead of Elizabeth. ‘Miss Lydia,’ he said, ‘go back to your home.’
‘But --’
His eyes flashed, and hers went blank. Immediately she began walked towards Longbourn.
Wickham looked somewhat less threatening as he curled into a moaning ball on the ground. Several cats began yowling. She wondered if she only imagined the distant roar of a dragon.
Wickham crawled to his feet, and Elizabeth could scarcely help herself from shrinking back. She was exhausted; she would fight to the death, but she knew, on her own, it would be to the death.
Yet his dark eyes had the same glazed, empty expression that Lydia's had. He took out a stake.
‘You should not see this,’ Darcy said.
‘No, I want to see,’ she told him vindictively, knowing she must look a heathen creature with the wind tearing and tossing her hair about.
‘As you wish.’ He watched Wickham with every appearance of great interest, as the vampire methodically thrust the stake into himself, slowly disintegrating into a pile of ash. The harsh breeze blew the remnants far and wide; and Elizabeth took Darcy's hand.
‘We owe you everything,’ she said, meeting his clear eyes.
‘I do not wish your gratitude,’ he said, beginning to step back. Elizabeth held on tight.
‘Fitzwilliam,’ --he started -- ‘you never did tell me what your gift is.’
‘You did not guess?’ He met her eyes squarely. ‘Persuasion, of course.’
--------------------------
Title: Hunsford
Fandom: Austen (PRIDE AND PREJUDICE)
Fanverse: Fantasyverse (AU)
Blurb: She could see his face change, gain in austerity, and he stepped back as if she had struck him.
Major Characters: Elizabeth Bennet; Fitzwilliam Darcy
Pairings/Warnings: magic, mental intrusion
Length: One-shot
----------------------------
(Written for Drabblefest 31, 'Weekend')
‘-- and that I rejoice in my success.’
Elizabeth was so livid that she could practically feel the mould sprouting in the corners of the house. She would have to uproot it.
Eventually. At present she hoped it would poison the man in front of her.
‘Your sister--’ he said, every word clipped. ‘Do you pretend to think that she felt anything beyond the most trifling affection for my friend?’
‘That is your opinion of her? That she would marry on such-- ‘trifling’ feelings? My sister, of all people, could never confuse a passing infatuation with heartfelt love, she is the most empathetic person in the world.’
He looked at her as if she had sprouted horns, the blood draining out of his face. Elizabeth wondered if his particular gift was to infuriate vast numbers of people by his mere presence.
‘Your sister-- is an empath.’
‘What else?’ She was almost near to feeling something akin to pity -- she forced her thoughts around to Wickham, his gracious, agreeable aspect, his dreadful poverty. Why should Jane’s magic matter to him? What did he know of others’ feelings? ‘But that is not the only cause of repugnance.’
Minutes later, he gave her a cold, level stare that erased any compassion she might have felt for him and left her, despite herself, rather unnerved. She could see his face change, gain in austerity, and he stepped back as if she had struck him. He stopped mid sentence, then gathered himself together, concluded -- ‘and please accept my best wishes for your health and happiness.’
The instant he left Elizabeth felt drained of all the assurance that had carried her through the scene. She sat down, and cried. She longed for Jane-- the weekend could not come soon enough.
And, somewhere, in a barely conscious, angrily ignored, part of her mind, she wondered that he had not used his power, whatever it was, to coerce her when he could so easily have done so.
--------------------------
Title: Persuasion
Fandom: Austen (PRIDE AND PREJUDICE)
Fanverse: Fantasyverse (AU)
Blurb: Wickham gets his just desserts, and Darcy reveals
Major Characters: Elizabeth Bennet; Fitzwilliam Darcy; George Wickham
Pairings/Warnings: Fitzwilliam Darcy/Elizabeth Bennet; character death, magic, mental intrusion/manipulation, suicide (sorta - see the aforementioned manipulation, and the note)
Length: One-shot
----------------------------
(Written for Halloween 2006, 'Scary Drabblefest.')
The moment when Elizabeth had seen the vampire sunk into her mind as deeply as his fangs did into Lydia's neck. Her poor, silly sister had given one shriek before collapsing into his arms. Elizabeth met the creature's eyes and cried aloud.
It was Wickham.
Everything Darcy had said sprang into her mind. He had not known, for certain, but suspected -- scattered words went through Elizabeth's mind as she ran after him.
Lydia -- Lydia -- Lydia --
-- lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil --
‘Miss Bennet? Miss Bennet? Elizabeth!’
Blinded by tears and rage, it took no effort for Darcy to stop her in her path. ‘What are doing? Do you not know what night it is?’
She struggled to free herself. ‘He has her -- he took her -- please, I have to stop him --’
‘Stop who?’
‘Wickham.’ She gasped for breath. ‘He has Lydia, he took her, I have to catch him, before --’ She began sobbing, violently, uselessly. ‘But what can be done? We are only wizards, I cannot stop him, I know very well nothing can be done.’
And then she remembered to whom she spoke. ‘I beg your pardon, Miss Bennet’ he said grimly, and whirled, hurrying. Elizabeth ran to keep up.
‘You should not be here,’ he said, ‘I will manage Wickham.’
‘Lydia will need me.’
She had always thought that all wizards were basically the same, natural mages who could make things grow, sometimes send for a little rain in particularly bad harvests, all but the most powerful looked down upon by the mage-lords in Parliament.
Darcy was a wizard, as she was, as her father; but his mother, she had been a mage-lord, and all her family; if he had inherited anything, anything at all--
She was infuriated with his deliberation and ran ahead, the rocks tearing at her feet.
‘Elizabeth!’
Wickham was about to take flight. Elizabeth put forth the last of her power; vines crawled from the earth, wrapped around his legs and torso. There was a moment of hope before Wickham shook them off as if they were no more than thread.
‘Poor little hedge-witch,’ he sneered, ‘not even worth breeding -- ’
There was a mere whisper from behind her; and then Wickham froze, his eyes wide with fear. His arms dropped loosely at his side, his mouth dropped open. Elizabeth knew Darcy must be behind her, but they had been face to face before, and there had been nothing like this. And then Wickham began to scream, as if in the uttermost torment.
Darcy took several steps forward, until he stood a little ahead of Elizabeth. ‘Miss Lydia,’ he said, ‘go back to your home.’
‘But --’
His eyes flashed, and hers went blank. Immediately she began walked towards Longbourn.
Wickham looked somewhat less threatening as he curled into a moaning ball on the ground. Several cats began yowling. She wondered if she only imagined the distant roar of a dragon.
Wickham crawled to his feet, and Elizabeth could scarcely help herself from shrinking back. She was exhausted; she would fight to the death, but she knew, on her own, it would be to the death.
Yet his dark eyes had the same glazed, empty expression that Lydia's had. He took out a stake.
‘You should not see this,’ Darcy said.
‘No, I want to see,’ she told him vindictively, knowing she must look a heathen creature with the wind tearing and tossing her hair about.
‘As you wish.’ He watched Wickham with every appearance of great interest, as the vampire methodically thrust the stake into himself, slowly disintegrating into a pile of ash. The harsh breeze blew the remnants far and wide; and Elizabeth took Darcy's hand.
‘We owe you everything,’ she said, meeting his clear eyes.
‘I do not wish your gratitude,’ he said, beginning to step back. Elizabeth held on tight.
‘Fitzwilliam,’ --he started -- ‘you never did tell me what your gift is.’
‘You did not guess?’ He met her eyes squarely. ‘Persuasion, of course.’
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stalktalk to you and wanting to fall to my knees and beg you to write a whole P&P retelling in this universe. so i'll do it now!*falls to knees and clasps hands in entreaty* please, please, PLEASE write a whole P&P retelling in this universe!