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keep_counting) wrote2011-06-12 07:31 pm
Fic: Mountain of Mine (Pride & Prejudice)
Title: Mountain of Mine
Characters/Pairings: pre-Elizabeth/Darcy and Jane/Bingley, Charlotte Lucas, bunch of dancing OC’s
Rating PG13
Warnings: My grammar, and young!Elizabeth and a general lack of Darcy: but I can promise you tons of build-up.
Genre: Romance/Family
Word-count: 1,558
Disclaimer: Nope, sorry, not Jane Austen. Not the last time I checked at least
A/N: This is what happens when I decide to watch the BBC P&P-series in the middle of the night. I’ve used a few lines from the series/books and an altered one from the 2005 movie (because it made me laugh). Title inspired by the Coldplay song ‘Speed of Sound'.
Summary: ‘I believe Mother, I may safely promise you never to dance with Mr. Darcy’
Mountain of Mine
One
“Honestly, Lizzie…” Merriment was fighting with a disproving look in twelve-year old Jane Bennet’s eyes and she could not stop a small smile from forming on her young face. “You could at least endeavor towards trying to get these simple steps right.”
“Yes, Jane.” Elizabeth answered, small hands brushing over her dress to remove whatever dirt might have clung to it as she had ungracefully fallen to the ground. “It is just that I find dancing to be so… so…”
Jane folded her arms over her chest. “So?”
“… So boring!”
“It is not boring, Elizabeth!” Jane gasped, half-way tempted to swat at her sister for that comment. “How can you say such a thing?”
“Because it’s true,” Elizabeth muttered under her breath, sending her favorite sister (well, usually her favorite) a sour look. “I fail to see the point Jane, we are not even permitted to go to any balls yet: why dance when we could play by the pond instead?”
Jane’s smile was as kind as ever. “Because Elizabeth, one day you will have to dance with the man you are going to marry: and you will do well to practice before then.”
Elizabeth, not used to following her older sister’s advice, sighed and quietly obliged for another spin in their backyard.
oOo
Two
“My feet are absolutely aching,” Charlotte moaned, seating herself with a satisfied smile on her face. “I tell you, I will never forgive my mother for making me wear these shoes. I swear, they are out to murder me!”
Elizabeth laughed, her own feet tapping against the floor in rhythm to the music. “Just as well: you’ve been out there dancing for hours. Thought it was time to come back here and keep me company, did you?”
Charlotte’s face grew somber. “Oh, Lizzie, I do not understand why no one has asked you to dance yet! You are by far one of the prettiest girls in the room.”
“It is fine, Charlotte, do not distress yourself on my account,” Elizabeth rushed to assure her, though her smile seemed just a little more forced now. “I must admit, I am afraid I would be a poor partner indeed: my dancing skills are rather lacking, as Jane and I demonstrated to you just the other day.”
The smile on Charlotte’s face was fond, though she still looked worried. “You did fine Lizzie, as you are well aware. And honestly, this is only the third ball you are attending, you should be out there dancing the night away…”
“Lottie,” Elizabeth interrupted, placing a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Really, it is fine: I am not in the mood for dancing this evening.”
Charlotte frowned. “Are you sure?”
Elizabeth turned, casting her eyes out over the sea of people moving, talking and dancing around her. The music was floating through the air like winds of sound, drowned out by laughter and gossiping and her mother’s loud tones. The hall was filled completely, all with familiar faces of the people she had known all her life.
“Yes,” She said, turned back to Charlotte. “I’m sure.”
oOo
Three
The first partner held her hand like it was a burning ember, ready to burst into flames and consume him any minute. The second looked like he was bored to death and the third stumbled over his feet, nearly crashing into the pair next to them.
“None of them? Lizzie, your expectations are too high.” Jane said, hand coming up to play with her hair. “One is too tall, one is not tall enough and another seems perfectly amiable, but his eyes are the wrong shade?”
Elizabeth shrugged, fingers curling around her empty glass. “I merely wish for what is best for you Jane: you where the one who let yourself be pressured by mama, after all. You are not yet twenty, you do not have to find a husband right away.”
“Yes, I know, I know.” Jane mumbled. “But it would make things easier, would it not?”
“Do not say that: never say that. For then you will leave Papa and I all alone with the Hound of Matchmaking: you know it will not be satisfied with only one out of five married off.”
“Lizzie!” Jane sounded scandalized, but couldn’t keep her voice from shaking slightly with laughter. “Listen to you; you are the very epitome of disrespectful tonight!”
“My apologies,” She said, smirking slightly though trying to look regretful. “I fear my mood is not as good as one could hope for: all the fellows you have danced with have proven themselves lacking and the one that asked me to dance stepped on my toes.”
Jane quietly snorted, trying to hide it behind a napkin. “Oh, Lizzie…”
“Ah, see now.” Elizabeth said, eyes trained on a young gentleman heading their way. “Another one, come to whisk you away. I daresay this one is more handsome than the rest…”
“Miss Elizabeth?” The man inquired, his head cocked slightly to the right in an asking gesture. It made a stray curl fall down in front of his eye and Elizabeth found herself just slightly out of breath. “May I ask for your hand for the next set?”
Determined to ignore Jane’s giggles beside her, she smiled at the man. “Yes. Yes, you may.”
oOo
Four
“He owns half of Derbyshire,” Jane saw fit to inform Elizabeth, as Mr. Bingley finally released her from all the dancing and she found time to sit down beside her sister. “He and Mr. Bingley have been friends for a while now, and he saw it fit to accompany him to his new settlements.”
“Indeed,” Elizabeth murmured, eyes on the tall gentleman in the corner. “And what part of Derbyshire do you think that is? The miserable half?”
“Lizzie!”
“Yes, Jane?”
A fond smile was shared. “Do not judge too quickly Lizzie. I daresay, he is a handsome fellow.”
“Handsome indeed, if only in looks as opposed to charms,” Elizabeth said. “He seems perfectly disagreeable to me: your Mr. Bingley on the other hand…”
“Oh, he is not my Mr. Bingley!”
“Then you clearly have not noticed the way he has been staring at you all evening – the way he is staring at you still.” Elizabeth laughed, happy to see her sister’s face flush with joy. “He seems a very good sort of man. This is one that I can certainly approve off.”
Jane rolled her eyes. “So I have your permission, is that what you are trying to convey?”
Elizabeth laughed. “Aye, Jane, you have my permission for this one.” She teased, gently squeezing her sister’s hand. “I will even place a wager that he will ask you for a second dance!”
Jane’s eyes lit up and her smile got impossibly wider. “Oh, I hope so. But Lizzie, what about you? You have hardly danced at all this evening. Do you not think that Mr. Darcy will ask you for one?”
“I highly doubt it,” Elizabeth laughed. “After all, why would he ask for the hand of someone who is merely tolerable to him? Oh, no, do not ask Jane – I will explain later. Look, Mr. Bingley is moving over, looking quite determined…” She let Jane’s hand slip out of hers, watching the spinning couple on the floor and wondering how long it would take before her sister would leave for a new home.
“At least you’ve practiced a lot,” She mumbled into the air, not noticing the eyes resting heavily on her back.
oOo
Five
Hands meeting. “Do you and your sisters often walk to Merryton?”
Released (why did she miss the sudden warmth?) and a slow spin. “Yes, we often walk to Merryton. In fact, when you met us the other day, we had just been forming a new acquaintance.”
She could clearly see him stiffen from the corner of her eye, his back becoming straighter and his shoulders braised as if for something heavy falling down on him. “Mr. Wickham has the happy manners as to enable him to make friends. If he is equally capable of keeping them is less certain.”
Elizabeth’s brows arched, anger running through her countenance. Their hands met again, the small jolt sending a shiver down her spine.
Words flowed back and forth and she quickly lost herself, leveling her words and determined not to give him the upper-hand. Of all the arrogant and conceited men in the entirety of England, why did this particular one have to stumble into her life so suddenly?
Why hadn’t she come up with an excuse for not accepting a dance from him? It had gone well the other time and really, why he had even asked her…
Oh. Hands meeting again. Still determined to ignore it (whatever it was), she put on the most un-affected expression she could muster, continuing the verbal sparring, eyes communicating pain on death as Mr. Lucas interrupted them and no further words could be said between them for the moment.
When she was finally released from the dance, Elizabeth felt like she’d been in a pocket of time, standing outside the rest of the world for a while. Her head was spinning slightly, her face still flushed with continuing resentment.
And the hand that had rested in his during the last moments of the dance continued to burn until the sun gave way to a new morning.
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