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Chapter 12
Círdan was waiting anxiously for Elizabeth when she and Darcë returned, though his anxiety did not proceed from fear for her safety. Of course, Elizabeth was not aware of this, so when she noticed the tense manner in which he received her, she immediately began to apologize for returning at a late hour.
"Your apologies are unnecessary, Child. You are free to enter and leave my house as you please, for I trust your prudence. I am only disturbed at the urgency with which this letter was brought hither," Círdan said as he handed Elizabeth a folded and sealed parchment.
Elizabeth turned the parchment over in her hands and recognized the elegant script in which her name was written. "It is from my sister, Jane! She must have sent this but a few days from my departure. By what hand was it carried?"
"One of my own people carried it. Your father was fortunate to have so swiftly found someone who could bring a message to Mithlond," Círdan replied.
Elizabeth nodded wordlessly and, with trembling fingers, broke the letter's seal. Círdan left the room to give her privacy. Darcë followed suit but not before taking Elizabeth's hand and giving her a reassuring smile.
Dear Elizabeth,As much as I deplore the thought of disrupting your pleasant journey and the last happy moments you will have with your friends, I cannot help but hope that this letter reaches you as soon as possible. Be not excessively alarmed however. Know that we are all alive and as well as can be expected. The tidings I have to relate concern poor Lydia.
The very day after you left for Mithlond, Kitty and Lydia came home from an outing in Bree with the news that Wickham had returned and had taken lodgings at The Prancing Pony. Though I sorely regret it now, I chose not to reveal what you and I have heard of Wickham's history. I had no wish to malign a character whose taint may very well have proceeded from a misunderstanding. Mother received Wickham in our home the following day for tea. I noticed then that Wickham and Lydia conversed together with great animation, but I could discern no particular regard, at least on Wickham's side, that would lead me to suspect what was to come.
Thus we were all in utter shock when a letter was found on Lydia's bed the next morning declaring her intentions to run away with Wickham on what she describes as a "grand adventure." You may imagine our distress upon the discovery. Mother at once took to hysterics, and Father left the house presumably to make inquiries and did not return until nightfall. He left again the next morning to search for them.
Thus far, Father's efforts have been in vain. Mother has hopes that we might be able to consider Lydia married but is quite disturbed that "the affair was not done properly" and I believe thinks overmuch on the subject of wedding clothes.
But Elizabeth, I now think the affair much more grave than I had believed. Since Lydia's disappearance, our uncle Butterbur has told us of strange things that have been seen in Bree. Black horsemen have ridden through the town and caused great fear and uproar among the people. Our uncle himself was quite shaken when he described it and hinted that the recent events might not be unrelated. The tale of fearsome black riders brought clearly to my mind Darcë's letter, and I keenly felt the blame for my silence on the matter.
Elizabeth, I cannot bear this burden alone, and your presence would be a great comfort to Father and me. Please come to Longbourn as soon as you can.
"Oh Lydia!" Elizabeth cried. "You cannot possible realize into whose hands you have thrown yourself!"
Darcë was alone in the hall just outside of the room where Elizabeth was still reading her letter, and he paced anxiously along the length of the passage. He was not prone to nervous habits, but some unknown weight had settled on his heart the moment Círdan placed the folded parchment into Elizabeth's hands. Darcë knew not how, but he was certain that the letter's contents bore some connection to him and was quickly becoming impatient to discover it.
A sound at the door stayed his movements, and he turned to see a weeping and trembling Elizabeth burst into the hall crying out, "Lord Círdan! I must see Lord Círdan at once!"
Darcë was immediately at her side and endeavored to lead her back to the room where she could be seated. "Elizabeth! What has happened?" he demanded.
"Please do not hinder me! I must find Lord Círdan this moment!"
"You are too unwell to go seek him on your own!" Darcë insisted. "Stay here, and I will send someone to fetch him."
Darcë left Elizabeth for a few minutes while he hailed a servant. When he returned, he found that she was weeping silently over her letter. He knelt before her and said, "Círdan will be here soon. He suspected that the message contained urgent tidings. Is there anything I can get for you?"
Elizabeth shook her head. When she was able to stifle her sobs, she raised her eyes to him and said, "Forgive me. The tidings are indeed urgent and are of a nature that requires me to leave Mithlond this very night."
"Oh Elbereth! What evil has come to pass?" Darcë pressed.
Tears returned to Elizabeth's eyes, and she bowed her head and covered her face to hide them. Darcë reached up and gently pulled her hands from her face and kissed them. "You can tell me, Elizabeth. I vow I will do whatever I can to aid you."
"You vow? Have you not learned after all this time to beware of oaths?" Elizabeth asked, surprising Darcë with a soft laugh amidst her tears. She shook her head, and her smile vanished. "Forgive me."
"There is nothing to be forgiven," Darcë said solemnly. "Oaths born of hatred, such as the one that brought the downfall of my kindred, are indeed to be avoided, but surely you do not think my oath proceeded from such a sentiment?"
Elizabeth looked him in the eye and read there all the earnestness of his words. With grave resignation she began, "My youngest sister, Lydia, has left her home and has disappeared into the country in the company of Wickham."
Darcë gasped and rose from his position with a single, sharp movement. Any traces of warmth and kindness had vanished and were replaced by the seemingly cold demeanor with which Elizabeth had formerly associated him. She felt struck to the heart by the change.
"What has been attempted to recover her?" he asked.
"My father has attempted a search, but no traces of them have been found."
"And it is certain that she is with Wickham?"
"Yes, Lydia left a letter explaining her intentions, but I expect she did not include their destination."
Darcë turned away towards the window and stood there silently for some time. As Elizabeth watched him, a startling realization fell upon her: he was lost to her, and she regretted it, deeply. To imagine Darcë would connect himself with her family now, when Lydia had willfully run away with his greatest enemy, was impossible, and Darcë's behavior seemed proof of this. Elizabeth severely berated herself for not having come to a better understanding of her feelings sooner, especially when the situation had called for that understanding. With depressing certainty, she knew that she would have been happy with him and that, though he was of the elder race, she would find no one else better suited for her. And in truth, she had no desire to do so.
"I must take leave of you now, Miss Bennet," Darcë said from the window. "I am certain Círdan will provide everything you need." With a last parting glance, he hurriedly left the room, shutting the door behind him.
As much as Círdan tried to persuade Elizabeth to wait until morning to leave for Longbourn, Elizabeth remained obstinate. She would leave that night, alone if necessary. Fearful that she would indeed do such a thing, Círdan granted her wish and even went so far as to provide horses for her and her escort. So Elizabeth, with three companions, hastened from Mithlond under the cover of a starless night.
Elizabeth never would recall much of that frenzied ride from Mithlond to Longbourn; but beneath the fevered pulse of thoughts that screamed for home, she was aware of a new sadness and uncertainty that took root and grew within her heart: she might never see Darcë again.
It was very late in the evening when Elizabeth and her escort drew near her home. As they passed Bree, they found the town deathly quiet, and not a light could be seen from any window. Longbourn seemed as devoid of life as Bree when they reached it. An unknown fear or dread hung heavily in the air that made even the elves uneasy, and they were anxious to continue on to Rivendell.
Elizabeth bade farewell to her companions and entered the house as silently as she could. The ride from Mithlond to Longbourn had been very difficult, not least because Elizabeth had scarcely allowed her and her escort an hour's rest at a time; so once she reached her room, she fell senselessly onto her bed into a deep sleep. Elizabeth perhaps would have remained thus till late the following day if left undisturbed, but it was not meant to be.
Since the disappearance of her youngest daughter and the recent reports of mysterious dark riders, Mrs. Bennet's nerves had been in such a state that she was not allowed any respite from fits and palpitations (or so she often asserts). Thus, she was fully awake when Elizabeth arrived and clearly heard her creep up the stairs and into her bedroom (which she thought a remarkable feat considering the dreadful pounding of her heart). Unfortunately, it did not occur to Mrs. Bennet that her daughter might have returned. Instead, she convinced herself that a conspiracy had been made among a band of dark riders to raid Longbourn in Mr. Bennet's absence.
Arming herself with a hairbrush and a hand mirror, Mrs. Bennet opened her bedroom door and peeked into the hall. When she found it to be empty, she proceeded to scurry downstairs and cry out, "UNDERHILL! MRS. UNDERHILL!!! YOU MUST AWAKEN AT ONCE! Oh, where is Mr. Bennet when he could make himself useful? UNDERHILL! ARE YOU AWAKE YET?"
When a rather rumpled and bleary-eyed Mrs. Underhill managed to pull on her robe and hasten out of her room, she found her mistress sunk into a chair just outside her door and violently fanning herself with a handkerchief.
"Ah Underhill!" Mrs. Bennet whimpered. "You must go upstairs and see what is in Miss Elizabeth's bedroom! You must go make certain it is not one of those black-garbed ruffians!"
"Nay, my lady!" Mrs. Underhill protested. "I shan't go upstairs! I certainly will not go if there are black ruffians waiting for me!"
"Do not be silly!" Mrs. Bennet scolded as she rose and attempted to usher the hobbit toward the stairs. "I will be waiting at the foot of the stairs and will be able to hear if something is amiss."
"A small comfort that is!" Mrs. Underhill muttered as she started up the stairs. When she reached the second floor, she made the mistake of looking down towards her mistress and, seeing the distance between them, began to whimper and tremble violently.
"Hush Underhill!" Mrs. Bennet cried. "Or else the thing will hear you coming and make ready to pounce on you!"
Though poor Mrs. Underhill was far from able to calm herself after Mrs. Bennet's reproach, she continued until she reached Elizabeth's bedroom door. A dim, golden light outlined the door, and the hobbit thought she could hear the soft hum of female voices within. With a stealth of which only a hobbit is capable, she pushed the door open just enough so that she could peek through. To her infinite relief, she saw the two eldest Miss Bennets (who had been aroused by their mother's screams) seated on Elizabeth's bed, speaking together in excited but hushed tones. Mrs. Underhill closed the door and happily returned to the ground floor where her mistress was pacing and fretfully wringing her hands.
When Mrs. Bennet saw Mrs. Underhill stepping cautiously down the stairs, she immediately ran to her and demanded, "What did you see? Oh do not keep me in suspense! Should we vacate the house? Oh, that Mr. Bennet was here! What will we do outside without a protector?"
Mrs. Underhill chose to ignore her mistress's exclamations and said with all calmness, "All is well, my lady. Miss Elizabeth is returned and has retired for the evening."
"What?! Has she no respect for my poor nerves? Can she not imagine how they torment me without her stealing into the house like a thief! Oh, the insensitivity of the young! I am off to bed!"
With that, Mrs. Bennet swept past her bewildered housekeeper and stalked up the stairs to her room.
Lydia gazed sleepily into the small campfire, her chin resting in one hand and her legs stretched behind her. Every once in a while, a discontented sigh escaped her lips, and her pout became more pronounced.
Wickham and she had been traveling for days without encountering anything of significance. At first it had all been quite diverting, seeing new country and travelling with a handsome, reckless Ranger; but after a while Lydia began to feel the monotony of the landscape and grew weary of their isolation. Where Wickham was headed and what he was searching for he never disclosed, and he often left Lydia at their camp for hours on end. Then, to Lydia's great annoyance, he decided to head back towards Bree to "report to his contacts." Supposedly, Wickham had ventured forth alone that evening to meet with those mysterious "contacts", but his absence had been longer than usual.
"It is most unfair!" Lydia whined to the trees. "Walks to town with Kitty are far more agreeable than this! Wickham is probably out keeping all the fun and adventure to himself!"
Lydia listened idly into the night, but she heard no reply to her complaint. In fact, she could hear nothing besides an occasional crackle from her dying fire. She sat up and looked around anxiously, straining to hear the night sounds that had previously almost lulled her to sleep. However, nothing stirred. Not even the trees would console her with a rustle of their leaves. It was then that she noticed that the sky was without stars that evening and that the moon had covered her face. It probably need not be said that any desire for danger and adventure became then as fleeting as the light from the campfire.
Then Lydia heard a noise behind her. A footfall perhaps. The noise was soft, but in that silence, it shook the air and was as loud as a thunderclap. She peered behind her, and her eyes attempted in vain to sift through the sylvan shadows to find the source of the sound.
"Wickham?" she called out uncertainly.
No answer came, but a sudden tension proceeding either from her own fears or some outside force seized her body and stilled her breath. Without a sound or even a movement, the light from her fire vanished, and Lydia was shaken from her frozen state. She turned back to where the fire once burned and saw...emptiness.
After sixteen years of lighthearted gaiety, Lydia met horror for the first time, and it held her so mercilessly that she was not allowed to scream or even sink into the refuge of unconsciousness.
The chilling sound of metal drawn across metal reached Lydia's ears. An invisible hand unveiled a long, sickeningly cold light and pushed it towards her. But it was not Lydia's fate to fall prey to that darkness. At that moment, a gleaming figure tore threw the shadows and planted itself as a shield between Lydia and what waited beyond. The sudden contrast of light and dark was so brilliant that Lydia was forced to shield her eyes. When she was able to open them again, she could have laughed out loud despite everything!
So he is to be my rescuer! Lydia thought incredulously as her mind slid gently into restful oblivion. What a joke!
Chapter 13
Elizabeth arose late the following day and immediately sought Jane who had promised to show her Lydia's letter. However, ere she reached Jane's room, she was intercepted by her mother who was still in a miff about the events of the previous evening.
"So, you are up and about at last! You were very naughty to behave as you did last night, stealing into your home like a thief, carrying on as if you were some dark ruffian!" Mrs. Bennet cried as she pressed her handkerchief to her breast in a rather mournful fashion. "Have you no compassion on my nerves?"
"I apologize, Mama," Elizabeth said with some confusion. "It was not my intention to disturb you. As I arrived at a very late hour, I chose not to rouse anyone."
Mrs. Bennet huffed indignantly and swept passed her toward the stairs without a word. Jane peered into the hall from her room and looked at Elizabeth with questioning concern.
"Think nothing of it, Jane. Mama was just welcoming her dearest daughter home," Elizabeth smilingly explained.
"Dearest daughter indeed!" their mother retorted from the stairs.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes and brushed past Jane into her room. Jane followed, closing the door behind her. She then removed a folded paper from a box on her dressing table.
"Here," Jane said as she handed Elizabeth the letter, "perhaps you can derive more from this than we have."
Elizabeth eagerly unfolded the letter and read the following:
No doubt you will all be quite jealous when you read the contents of this letter, for I am now off on my own grand adventure! (I am determined that Elizabeth shall not have all the fun!) And who is to be my noble escort? Well, if you cannot guess, I shall think you all daft! Wickham alone has any claim to my heart. Do not look for us to return any time soon. I expect Wickham plans to take me to many wondrous, faraway places ere we think of returning to dull and dismal Bree! My sisters may rest assured that, should I meet any other eligible, handsome Rangers, I will send word by the swiftest messengers. After all, I would be a very selfish creature to keep them all to myself! I can just imagine the looks on your faces at this moment! I am in danger of a laughing fit just thinking of it!
"Typical Lydia!" Elizabeth cried. "Thoughtless to no end! She cannot be so amused at her situation now. Wickham is a villain, and I shudder to think of what may befall her."
"Do you think he would intentionally harm her?" Jane asked, alarm clearly written on her face.
"I know not what to think or expect," Elizabeth replied, shaking her head in frustration. "I cannot understand his allowing her to accompany him. What could his motivation have been?"
"He must truly love her!" Jane said warmly. "What other motivation could he have? She is, after all, without fortune or worldly consequence. And it is still possible he is not entirely the villain you think him."
Elizabeth did not try to argue this point with her, as absurd as she considered the idea that Wickham could care for her sister. Jane would not be able to support the idea of Lydia alone in the Wild with one who could cause her harm, and Elizabeth knew it well.
"Whatever his motivation, they need to be found, and soon. I feel that the world is a great deal less safe now than it once was, even for a would-be Ranger."
"Are you thinking of the dark riders?" Jane asked in a voice that was barely above a whisper.
"I hardly know," Elizabeth admitted. "We met with no such...people on the road from Mithlond, but I felt something last night as we drew near Bree. I believe my companions felt it as well. They were most anxious to take their leave once we reached Longbourn. It may have nothing to do with dark riders, but I have never felt such a feeling of disquiet near the town. Even the inn was silent."
Jane frowned and said, "I think we had better not speak of this to anyone else, save perhaps Father. It would not do to give Mother any more cause to be...nervous."
Elizabeth heartily agreed.
Later that day, Mrs. Lucas hastened to Longbourn, eager to relate the events that had caused a great commotion throughout Bree that morning. Her two daughters, Charlotte and Maria, accompanied her so that they might call on the Miss Bennets. The two girls left their mother with Mrs. Bennet in the drawing room and proceeded to the garden where they were told they would find the others.
Even as they left the house, they could hear Kitty's voice complain, "Everything is so horribly dull without Lydia! Can we not go to Bree or something?"
"No!" said a voice in a sharp tone that could only be Elizabeth's. "It shall not be said that the Bennets of Longbourn cannot live through a day without parading through town!"
At the sound of her friend's voice, Charlotte hurried ahead of her sister to the garden where she found Jane and Elizabeth seated upon a bench and Kitty stalking about, pouting in an admirably Lydia-like fashion.
Mary had stowed herself in a low nook of a tree nearby and had her face hidden in a book. Upon hearing the exchange between Elizabeth and Kitty, she solemnly closed her book and said, "Kitty, you would do well to employ your time with more worthy pursuits. Might I suggest elven lore? I could teach you The Fall of Gil-galad perhaps." Unfortunately, Mary received little more than a look of disgust for her pains. She sighed heavily at Kitty's sad lack of education and returned to her book after nodding towards Charlotte.
"Charlotte!" Elizabeth called gaily. "It is wonderful to see you! Do join us and enliven our conversation. We have been too melancholy all day!"
Kitty, seeing that no one save Mary cared to attend to her woes, made a heated exit and pulled a bewildered Maria after her. Charlotte looked after them in confusion before taking a seat opposite Jane and Elizabeth.
"I am glad you are come home safe, Elizabeth. We came with our mother who is anxious to share the latest news from Bree," Charlotte explained. "The whole town is in quite an uproar!"
"What has happened, Charlotte?" Jane asked.
Charlotte lowered her voice and said, "Your uncle's inn was raided last night! One room in particular was entirely ransacked! What is more, many of the animals he kept were driven away or taken!"
"My poor uncle!" Jane cried, paling visibly at Charlotte's account. "Tell us, is he well? Did he suffer any hurt?"
"No! No one was harmed. But it is said throughout town that some foreigners from the south are behind it all. Others speak of the black riders. And then there was the strange band of travelers who left the inn this morning."
"What travelers?" Elizabeth asked.
"Oddly enough, a party of hobbits from the Shire. And I have heard there was a Ranger with them."
Elizabeth exchanged a worried glance with Jane. "Did you see the Ranger?"
"No, but nearly everyone else did," said Charlotte. "Just about the whole town saw them off when they left Bree this morning. It is generally hoped that the possibility of further danger has left with them."
Elizabeth smirked. "I somehow doubt that is the case. I believe that the danger has just begun."
Charlotte regarded her friend curiously. "Did you see anything during your travels to make you believe this, Elizabeth?"
"No," Elizabeth admitted, "It is just a feeling I have."
An uncomfortable silence followed this statement. Jane shifted uneasily as she observed her sister in solemn contemplation of evils she could not imagine. Wishing to pull Elizabeth from her dark reverie, Jane said, "We should call on our uncle as soon as possible. And perhaps he has heard something of Lydia or Father."
Elizabeth nodded mutely in response to Jane's suggestion.
"Then Mr. Bennet is still from home?" Charlotte inquired cautiously.
"Yes, and I would very much like to hear news of him," Elizabeth said as she rose to her feet. "I think we should walk to Bree today after all. Would you care to join us Charlotte?"
"Why do you not accompany Mother, Maria, and I when we return?" Charlotte suggested. "Mother did not intend to remain for long."
Mrs. Lucas had indeed intended to make but a brief call. However, Mrs. Bennet had other ideas and was not about to lose her chance to make the most of a potentially sympathetic ear. Mrs. Bennet's ever-lengthening list of woes was too good to be kept to herself, so it was a while before Mrs. Lucas could share anything of import.
When Mrs. Lucas was finally able to share her news, Mrs. Bennet was most profoundly affected. She gaped speechlessly at Mrs. Lucas for several minutes together (an exceptional event in itself) and twice attempted to raise herself from her chair only to feebly collapse back into it. The uncharacteristic dumbness of her neighbor frightened Mrs. Lucas to no end, and she immediately left to fetch Mrs. Underhill.
It was shortly after she left that Charlotte, Elizabeth, and Jane entered the drawing room to find Mrs. Bennet fluttering about the room, whimpering and making random exclamations.
Jane ran immediately to her mother's side and said, "Mother! Are you unwell? What has happened?"
"Smelling salts!" were the only intelligible words Jane could derive from her speech. She immediately fetched a bottle of salts from the mantle piece - nearly every room in the house was equipped with a ready supply - and held it to her mother's nose.
"Ah Jane! Mrs. Lucas has just told me the most distressing news!" Mrs. Bennet cried as she slumped into her chair.
"Yes Mother, we know it all," Jane said soothingly, spreading a blanket over her mother's knees. "Let us be thankful, though, that my uncle Butterbur was not harmed."
"But we are all ruined! My brother's inn was attacked last night, and Longbourn will be next! Mark my words! Oh, would that your father were here!"
"Mother, we intended to call on my uncle today," Elizabeth said, "and perhaps hear some news of Father."
"You shall do no such thing, Girl! You would all surely be abducted ere you reached the gates!"
At that moment, Mrs. Lucas returned with Mrs. Underhill. They each regarded Mrs. Bennet fearfully. Mrs. Underhill hesitantly stepped forward and addressed her mistress, "Are you unwell, my lady? Is there anything I can get for you?"
When Mrs. Bennet did not answer, Jane said gently, "Thank you, Mrs. Underhill. I will see to Mrs. Bennet. You might go fetch Kitty and Maria."
Mrs. Underhill nodded to Jane and offered a curtsy to her lady before making a swift exit. Mrs. Lucas looked after the retreating housekeeper with something akin to envy before turning to face Longbourn's distraught mistress.
"Will you not sit down, Mrs. Lucas?" Elizabeth offered, noticing her discomfort.
"Thank you, but I must decline," she replied. "It is getting late, and I should take my daughters home. I do hope all will turn out well Mrs. Bennet."
"You are very good," was Mrs. Bennet's feeble reply. "Let us all hope that nothing else occurs to afflict my poor nerves!"
Elizabeth silently seconded her mother's wish as she saw Charlotte and Mrs. Lucas to the door.
The sharp chill of the wind that tore at Darcë's hair and raiment seemed to augment the fear that still permeated the area. That same fear had caused Darcë's horse to bolt in terror, which left him no choice but to bear his burden to Bree on foot. However, even elves have a limit to their strength, and Darcë was coming ever closer to reaching it. Fortunately, they were not far from the town.
When a torrent of cold rain began to fall, he at last allowed himself a rest. He laid Lydia against a tree and covered her as best as he could with his cloak. As he settled beside her, he gazed anxiously at her unconscious form. Darcë believed the Black Breath did not seriously harm the girl, but she apparently received just enough exposure to render her in a continuous sleeping state. (Although Darcë felt due compassion for Lydia's situation, he found it impossible to entirely lament her condition of speechlessness. Of course, he probably would never have been able to persuade her to be escorted home if she had been conscious.)
For some time, Darcë sat absolutely still and gazed intently into the face of his new charge. It was not long before his raiment was soaked, and the coldness reached up his limbs and penetrated deep inside him. His only comfort then was the resemblance he could discern in Lydia's features to another Miss Bennet.
Darcë sighed deeply and bowed his head, not heeding the steady stream of droplets that ran from his hair to his hands. For the thousandth time, he wondered whether Elizabeth had arrived home in safety and how she was dealing with her family's grief. Whatever her sufferings, he would do everything in his power to relieve them soon enough. Truthfully, the gratitude Elizabeth would undoubtedly feel when he returned her wayward sister was of little comfort to Darcë. Gratitude was infinitely more preferable than the apathy she had shown him in Rivendell, but it was far from the feelings he yet had hopes to inspire.
He shook his head at this train of thought. Such were not his concerns at the moment. Elizabeth's happiness was all that really mattered.
As Darcë made ready to complete the last stage of his journey, a sound that was at once hopeful and ominous reached his ears: a horse approaching on the Road. Thus far, Darcë had not taken the Road, but the path he followed ran close to it, close enough to put them in potential danger.
Darcë crept with the utmost stealth to the edge of the Road to observe the passerby. While caution kept his body tense and his sword ready, his heart was buoyed up by a strange and sudden certainty that the approaching rider was not a servant of the enemy. After minutes that seem to stretch so long they preyed even upon an elf's patience, horse and rider appeared, advancing at a somewhat half-hearted pace. Beyond all hope, the rider was none other than Mr. Bennet.
Chapter 14
On a night of early October, Elizabeth was suddenly wakened by a great commotion that was a combination of shouting, slamming doors, and feet pounding up and down the stairs. Rather than risk being forced out of bed by her mother, Elizabeth rose, dressed quickly, and hastened out of her room. To her extreme astonishment, Mrs. Bennet was actually not the cause of the uproar (though she was a noteworthy participant).
At the top of the stairs, Jane intercepted Elizabeth and exclaimed, "Oh Elizabeth! Father and Lydia are come home, and they are well!"
Jane led Elizabeth to Lydia's room where she was laid on her bed wrapped snugly in blankets and loudly blowing her nose with one of her mother's handkerchiefs. Mrs. Bennet, Mrs. Underhill, and Kitty were close at hand, fussing over her and asking silly questions.
"Well, I was too busy having heaps of fun to write to you, Kitty!" Lydia insisted with a great deal of sniffling.
"Of course you were, my dearest girl!" Mrs. Bennet declared. "Kitty, if you are determined to pout, then you had best return to bed!"
When Lydia noticed Elizabeth's presence, she simpered and said, "There you are, Elizabeth! Were you very jealous when you came home and found I was gone? I wager you were! Was not Wickham a favorite of yours once?" As she said the latter, she promptly clapped her hand over her mouth and giggled.
"Where is Wickham?" Elizabeth demanded, choosing to ignore Lydia's questions and her ridiculous behavior.
Lydia's face darkened considerably. "Father is being utterly disagreeable! He says I am never to speak of Wickham again, or Darcë for that matter."
"Darcë?!" Elizabeth gasped.
"Yes," Lydia replied, giggling at her sister's wide eyes and flushed complexion, "Darcë is the one who decided that I should not speak of having met him, though I do not know why...Oh dear! I was not even supposed speak of not being able to speak of them! It was all to be a great secret! Father shall be doubly cross now!"
"Hush my dear," Mrs. Bennet soothed. "I will have your father know you are in a very delicate condition now and need no scolding. And he need have no fear of our discussing Darcë any further. What is that elf to us anyway? I would rather hear of your dear Wickham. What has become of him?"
However, Lydia only put a finger to her lips and shook her head. Before her mother had a chance to become indignant and raise her voice, Elizabeth left the room and went directly to the library where she knew her father had taken refuge. She did not bother to knock, but immediately pushed the door open and went inside. To her dismay, she found Mr. Bennet sunk into his chair by the fireplace, his head buried in his hands. Elizabeth hurried to him and knelt at his side.
"Father, I am so happy you are come home!" Elizabeth said tearfully, momentarily forgetting her anxiety over Lydia's involuntary revelation. "You must be dreadfully fatigued. Is there anything I can get for you?"
At the sound of his dearest daughter's voice, Mr. Bennet raised his head and promptly embraced her. "I need nothing now, my child," he murmured.
After some time, Elizabeth drew away and asked, "Father, was the situation very bad?"
Mr. Bennet studied his daughter intently before he answered. For the first time in her life, Elizabeth felt unable to meet her father's eyes, for they gleamed in a way that was unfamiliar to her. It appeared almost to be disapproval or even displeasure, and it seemed directed towards her rather than towards Lydia, Wickham, or anyone else.
At last Mr. Bennet shrugged and said, "It depends on which situation you mean. If you are speaking of Lydia, well I suppose it all could have been worse. She is alive, and unharmed save for a nasty fright and a nastier cold. On the whole, I believe her sense has received little to no improvement from her experience, though perhaps that was a little too much to hope for..."
"I concur with you there," Elizabeth remarked wryly. "for she has let slip Darcë's involvement, or I assume he was involved somehow, despite your orders that she say nothing. I know not why it must remain a secret, but in view of the fact that she has revealed this much, would you not indulge me with the story in full?"
Mr. Bennet sighed heavily and shook his head. "I anticipated your finding out sooner or later, though I had rather hoped it would be later. It was Darcë's wish that I not reveal the fact that we owe Lydia's safe return to him."
"How?"
"He saved her from certain death at the hands of the servants of the Enemy. What Lydia does not and will not know is that her attackers had murdered Wickham just before they found her camp."
Elizabeth paled at her father's words, and was suddenly overcome with the warmest gratitude for the one who saved her sister from Wickham's fate.
"The encounter not only rendered Lydia unconscious but also spooked Darcë's mount, so he proceeded to carry her home. I met them but five miles from the town. As for his motives in going after them, I would think you would be more familiar with them than I."
Warm color returned to Elizabeth's face in full force as that strange glint once again entered her father's eyes. Though she knew not exactly what her father meant to imply, she could very well understand the direction he was taking.
"What do you mean, Father? What has Darcë told you?" Elizabeth asked cautiously.
"Very little, to tell you the truth, but I surmised enough from his behavior then and at Rivendell ... and from your behavior as well, I might add," Mr. Bennet replied dryly.
"My behavior?!" Elizabeth cried somewhat indignantly.
Mr. Bennet chuckled at her father's expression. "Yes, my dear. Clever as you are, you have never been able to hide your emotions, at least not from me. It has been many months that you could not hear that elf lord's name spoken without blushing and becoming discomfited as you are now, and I remember quite clearly how your eyes tenaciously followed his movements in Rivendell - that is, when his eyes were not following yours. When I happened upon him outside of Bree days ago, it was only too apparent that all the pains he undertook for one sister were all for the sake of another." Mr. Bennet leaned forward and grasped his daughter's hand. "My child, I do not believe you are fully aware of what the decision you made could entail. That such a choice should have come to one of my daughters in these times is almost beyond my comprehension! Not only will Darcë have to utterly forsake his place among his people in the West but you will have to relinquish all claims to the world you have known. I am sure I need not recount to you the histories of unions such as these to remind you of the anguish they often inspire."
By that time, Elizabeth's eyes were swimming in tears, a visual testament to Mr. Bennet's latter words. Her tears however proceeded more from regret than anything else, regret that her father presumed more than what actually existed between her and Darcë and a more subtle regret that his presumption did not have a better foundation.
"You have nothing to fear, Father," Elizabeth said, careful not to let her feelings seep into her voice. "Darcë and I have no understanding. In fact, I believe such a thing quite impossible, considering Lydia's latest escapade."
Relief shown plainly in her father's face. "No understanding? Truly? Forgive me, my dear, but I must say I am quite relieved. I confess I was not a little displeased that you would have set your heart on an elf lord you had but lately disliked so prodigiously, but I am the last person who should fault you for having a wayward heart. After all, I did marry your mother." Mr. Bennet chuckled as he patted her hand reassuringly. "Let it go then, for it will pass in time, and I advise you to try to be content within your own sphere. Others have done so in the past and have come to no serious harm."
Elizabeth gazed at her father, blinking back further tears as his words left cruel gashes in her already sore heart. However, she knew that such was not his intention, thus she smiled weakly at him and said, "Yes, I will try. And perhaps if fortune is on my side, I may in time meet with another Mr. Collins."
Mr. Bennet snorted, "Well, whatever you wish, my dear, but pray let it not come to that."
Elizabeth affected a laugh and promptly fled her father's presence to the sanctuary of her room where her pillow offered a sympathetic shoulder for her tears.
No sooner had the gossips lost interest in the conjectures surrounding Lydia's mysterious return than yet another item of local interest emerged and was spread throughout town: Binglorn had unexpectedly returned and was reputedly in a hurry to settle all his unfinished affairs in Bree.
The news did little to raise the spirits of the Longbourn family. Mrs. Bennet and her daughters took this as a sign that Binglorn meant to depart for good, and the former did not scruple to bewail to Jane the loss of her suitor. Mr. Bennet, who had been better informed of Binglorn's business in the area, came to the conclusion that the Rangers were most likely to move south soon and assist in the wars that were brewing there. Elizabeth, though sympathizing with Jane's distress, was also aware of a keen disappointment that the general word implied Binglorn had come alone this time.
Thus, the entire Longbourn household was taken utterly by surprise when Mrs. Underhill burst into the drawing room declaring, "Master Binglorn is coming up the drive, my lady!" With that, the hobbit rushed from the room to receive him at the front door.
Fortunately, Mr. Bennet had the foresight to retreat into his library before his wife had a chance to react to the news. Elizabeth would have followed suit, but Jane caught her arm and silently beseeched her to stay at her side.
Mrs. Bennet jumped from her seat and exclaimed, "Steady yourselves, girls! We shall receive him as any other caller. Oh, Jane! Would that you had put on your blue gown this morning! But it's too late to think of it. Mary, do not fidget so! Go ring the bell for tea!"
Kitty, who had run to look out the window when the announcement was made, said, "Someone is with him! Who could it be? I think it is that elf who was with him before."
"Do you mean Darcë?" Mrs. Bennet gasped as she ran to the window.
Lydia immediately joined them, and seeing that Darcë was indeed come, fled to her room. Jane and Elizabeth observed her flight in confusion, but each silent wishing they could follow.
"Oh dear, what a pity Binglorn is not alone," Mrs. Bennet said. "Well, I suppose we shall be forced to welcome the elf since he is Binglorn's friend. Now, where did Lydia run off too?"
Elizabeth, clasping Jane's hand as much to receive comfort as to give it, sighed in frustration at her mother's words and wished she herself had not expressed her former opinions of Darcë so strongly.
When voices and approaching footsteps were heard in the hall, Mrs. Bennet immediately scurried to her seat and tried to assume an air of serenity. Her efforts proved to be in vain however, for when the door opened she sprang to her feet once more and accosted Binglorn with her warm exclamations of welcome. Elizabeth noted her mother's pointed attempt to ignore Darcë and looked away in embarrassment, being painfully aware of how much her family was indebted to him. Unbeknownst to Elizabeth, Darcë took no notice of Mrs. Bennet's rudeness, his only interest at the moment being Elizabeth's reaction to his arrival. Noting her obvious discomfort, though not knowing the true cause, he looked away and sighed.
"Your departure was most abrupt, and we were so desolated when you left us without a word. But all is well now, for you have come back! Will you be long in the neighborhood?"
"I am afraid not, Mrs. Bennet," Binglorn replied as his eyes drifted to Jane. "I am actually in the process of permanently removing from this area and do not look to return in the future, so naturally I came to pay my respects to your family."
"You are very kind, sir," Mrs. Bennet sniffed, not at all pleased with his answer. "So you are to leave soon?"
"Yes, very soon. And there is some business of great importance that I must conclude here ere I depart. Would you-" Binglorn hesitated and looked to Darcë who gave him a small smile of encouragement. "Would you grant me an interview with Miss Bennet?"
Mrs. Bennet's good humor returned in full force, and she rushed forward to clasp Binglorn's hand. "Of course, good sir! The rest of us will have tea in the dining room, and you may join us when all is settled! Mary, Kitty, Elizabeth, come!"
Elizabeth blushed furiously at her mother's presumption and behavior and stubbornly remained where she was, determined not to leave Jane alone unless she wished it. Though as yet uninvited, Darcë opted to follow the others and offered his arm to Elizabeth. She looked uncertainly from Darcë to Jane and, finding that Jane attended to no one save Binglorn, shyly accepted his arm.
Tea that afternoon was a most uncomfortable affair. Mrs. Bennet, caught between excitement for what must be taking place between Binglorn and Jane and her awe of Darcë, was quite unable to say a word. Kitty and Mary were just as uneasy in the presence of the elf lord, so it was up to Elizabeth and Darcë to carry on some form of polite conversation. When they had exhausted every mundane topic relevant to the Bree-lands, Mr. Bennet entered the dining room with a smiling Jane and Binglorn in tow.
Mr. Bennet solemnly cleared his throat and said, "Mrs. Bennet, prepare yourself. You are about to lose one of your daughters."
At that moment, Elizabeth was extremely grateful for the presence of Darcë and his restraining effect on her mother. Save for him, she had no doubt her mother would have indulged herself in a fit of joyful hysterics. As it was, Mrs. Bennet limited herself to warm embraces for Jane and Binglorn and proceeded to drill Mr. Bennet on the subject of wedding clothes.
When Binglorn and Darcë took his leave that evening and Jane could spare a moment from the attentions of her family, she drew Elizabeth aside and led her to her room where they could speak privately.
"You will be so happy, Jane!" Elizabeth said warmly. "It is no more than what you deserve."
"I am happy already! Though you speak otherwise, I can hardly believe myself deserving of such happiness! He said he has loved me all the time! He just did not believe I returned his feelings." Jane fell silent, and the brilliance of her smile clouded a bit. "Elizabeth, he spoke truly when he said he was to leave soon. He will, and I will go with him - to Rivendell. All must be taken care of rather quickly, you see, because...well, he says we must settle at Rivendell before it is too late."
"Too late?"
"Yes. He says the lands are changing and becoming more dangerous by the day, but Rivendell is a safe refuge. It has been a sanctuary for his people for many years."
Elizabeth drew in a deep breath as she finally understood. "Then, Binglorn is a Ranger? One of the Dúnedain? And I would wager that Father knew it all the time."
Jane nodded slowly and said, "Binglorn told me the Rangers have maintained a vigilant watch over this area for some time, though he has not yet explained why. It was his chieftain who left Bree last month with that small party of hobbits, and now Binglorn believes him to be in Rivendell."
"And he is eager to join him," Elizabeth finished sadly. "When will you go?"
"In two days."
Elizabeth laid her head on her sister's shoulder, averting her face to hide her tears. "So, now our roles are reversed. It is you who is to go on the adventure and I who must stay behind wondering how I am going to get on without you."
"You are not for Bree, Elizabeth," Jane assured gently. "Of that I have been sure for quite a while."
Much to the chagrin of some, the wedding of Binglorn and Jane was a small, quiet affair, requiring little by way of new clothes and witnessed by few outside the Bennet family. Surprisingly, Darcë was not present to witness it, and Binglorn explained that his absence was due to urgent tidings he had received a day after their arrival and that he would join them as soon as possible on the road to Rivendell.
Elizabeth did not want to believe that Darcë would miss his dear friend's wedding to avoid her, but the thought did not escape her. She witnessed her sister's nuptials with as much happiness as she could muster and parted from her with all the dignity in her power. Only when Jane had at last departed with her new husband did Elizabeth turn away and give full vent to her grief and loneliness.
It was not until December that Darcë was able to return to Longbourn. During the time of Binglorn's wedding, a search was being made for any trace of the servants of the Enemy, and Binglorn had been called to assist. Instead of allowing his friend to forsake the opportunity for happiness that lay before him, Darcë accepted the summons in his behalf, eager to do his friend any service after he had once before come between him and Miss Bennet. That business concluded, Darcë was at last at liberty to see to his own happiness.
The sky was clear on the night of his arrival, and the stars shown with an uncharacteristic brightness. After passing silently through the gate, rather than seeking admittance into the house, he turned his steps to the gardens where he knew a large tree stood. It was a place where he knew Elizabeth would be found on such a night. He saw her curled up beneath her tree - somehow he knew it to be hers - with her face turned upward so that her eyes and tears mirrored the starlight. Or perhaps it is the reverse, Darcë thought wistfully. He spoke no word but moved noiselessly to her side and knelt before her.
"Why these tears now, Elizabeth?" Darcë asked as he brushed away the evidence of her sorrow with a feather-light touch. "Your youngest sister is safe, your eldest has found happiness. What now is wanting to make you content?"
Elizabeth drew away in surprise at his sudden appearance and tender address.
"My lord? What do you do here? I had thought never to see you again."
Darcë smiled gently and commanded, "Answer my question, Elizabeth."
Elizabeth hesitated, for whether or not he knew it, he was asking for admittance to her heart's most sacred secrets.
"I am not ungrateful," Elizabeth said, in her embarrassment seeking some safe diversion. "I am indeed content and most happy for Jane's situation. And I know it is to you that my family owes its good fortune."
Darcë only smiled at this obvious diversion, but he was not to be deterred. "You know very well I am not seeking your gratitude, or your family's for that matter, as much as I respect them." He seized her face firmly but gently with both hands that he might gaze without hindrance into her eyes. Elizabeth gasped at the intensity of the emotions etched on his face. "Have your feelings changed at all since last summer?"
"Have yours?" Elizabeth queried, almost teasingly.
"Yes."
Darcë grinned and almost laughed aloud when Elizabeth's face abruptly fell. "Elizabeth, my feelings for you could only deepen. We elves are not easily mistaken by our own hearts, and we do not give our love lightly or carelessly, I least of all."
A sob nearly escaped from Elizabeth's throat as she heard Darcë speak the words she had so longed to hear ever since they had parted in Mithlond. However, the memory of her father's words prevented her from at once easing his suspense.
"How can I allow you to give up your life for me?" Elizabeth demanded tearfully. "Who am I that you should make such a sacrifice for my sake?"
Tears now filled Darcë's eyes, but Elizabeth was not given a chance to be shocked at the sight, for he immediately pulled her into his arms, and she felt his tears upon her neck where he rested his cheek.
"Elizabeth, my Elizabeth! I never lived before I found you! For ages I was but an empty form, walking aimlessly beneath the Sun and the Moon, awaiting the End. You brought warmth and feeling to what before was cold and bitter." Darcë drew away slightly and looked into her eyes. "Could you allow me to return to that state? I shall if I cannot be with you."
Elizabeth had never felt so lost for words, and the feeling was strange. It was not in her nature. Therefore her heart, at last freed from the bonds of reason and common sense, came forward to speak the words that sealed their fates forever.
"I love you."
Mr. Bennet was lightly dozing in his library when what seemed to be a dream visited his slumber. His dearest daughter, his Elizabeth, swept softly into the room and knelt by his chair. Taking his hand and kissing it she whispered, "Good bye, Dear Father."
He was then awakened by a sound like the closing of a door, and he found himself alone; but on his desk, an unfamiliar object glittered in the candlelight: a blue jewel set in gold that bore a star with many rays. With a certainty that brought him pain, he recognized the star as the symbol of the House of Fëanor.
Mr. Bennet rose and stood at the window. He beheld his reflection there on the panes and saw with surprise that he had been weeping.
"Good bye, Elizabeth," he whispered. "May the payment required of you for your choice not be too dear.
Thus, the people of Bree neither saw nor heard of Elizabeth Bennet again, though rumors were spread and wild conjectures made long after her disappearance. Some went so far as to say that she had been abducted by Wickham, but most held that the wizard Gandalf had whisked her away at last. Whether any of the Bennet family was better informed of her whereabouts was not known.
Mrs. Bennet, after an appropriate period of wailing and lamentation, dismissed her daughter's disappearance as an unavoidable event caused by her peculiar nature. Mr. Bennet paid no heed to the whisperings save when a particularly absurd piece of gossip reached his ears and brought forth an amused smile. It was observed however that his journeys into the Wild not only increased in number but greatly increased in duration.
During that tense period when Binglorn was away with his kindred fighting in the wars of the south, Jane was surprised by letter given to her by Glorfindel. In hopes that it was from Elizabeth, from whom she had not received word since her departure from Bree, she hastened to the quiet of the Hall of Fire. With trembling hands, she broke the seal. The letter was in her father's hand.
My Dear Jane,Your sister, Elizabeth, has flown at last and in all likelihood will never again return to the likes of Bree. Be not alarmed, Jane. She is in no danger. On the contrary! She is undoubtedly happier now than she has ever been, for I have reason to believe she has acquired for me a most unusual son-in-law. But I will cease here and leave the rest for her. She will probably make an appearance at Rivendell some time or another.
-Your ever affectionate father
P. S. Pray do not mention any of this in any letter you might have a mind to send to your mother or sisters. It would not do for Mrs. Bennet to be scurrying about town with the news that her newest son-in-law is an elf, and in any case, I doubt her nerves could handle it.
Epilogue
Elizabeth laughed mischievously as she strolled unshod along the beach, her careless steps leaving an odd trail in the sand. She continued thus till she arrived at a favorite seat of hers, a fairly large rock situated just in view of the harbor. With a little more difficulty than usual, she pulled herself onto the rock and sat comfortably on its relatively smooth surface.
Since her removal to Mithlond, she had spent many evenings in such a manner: waiting for the sun to make its glorious farewell as it descends into the West. Her husband often accompanied her, but that particular evening, he had chosen to join the other elves on the docks as a few of his acquaintance would be sailing. Then, after the ship disappears into the horizon, Elizabeth supposed Darcë would return to his home expecting to find that his wife, in pious obedience to his stern commands, had spent the evening safely indoors. Elizabeth laughed heartily at the thought and strained her eyes toward the docks in an attempt to catch a glimpse of him, but her efforts were in vain. She knew very well that Darcë, with his keen elven sight, had probably observed her already and was only waiting for the ship to depart before he would hasten to give her a sound scolding.
Elizabeth was not disappointed. The ship had barely pulled anchor before she spied a solitary figure making its way toward her. She immediately crossed her arms and assumed a look of defiance. Darcë stopped within five feet of Elizabeth's rock and regarded her in a similar fashion. He raised an eyebrow when he noticed her bare feet.
"Well, my lord?" Elizabeth demanded expectantly, unabashedly dangling her feet below her. She was surprised by an abundance of merry laughter.
"Love, you are impossible! Would that you would leave me some illusion of authority in our home!"
Elizabeth frowned. "That would not do. You would not find so much amusement in my society then."
"I suppose not," Darcë conceded as he leaped nimbly onto the rock and settled down beside her, wrapping his cloak about her shoulders. "Perhaps a compromise is in order. You may defy me as it pleases you, as long as you do not endanger yourself or the little one."
"Oh, to hear an elf speak of clean sea air as if it were a danger to one's health! What is the world coming to?" Elizabeth cried with a dramatic sigh. "You are over-anxious, Love. I have always had a solid constitution."
Darcë looked intently into his wife's face as if trying to determine the truth of her words and then answered her questioning eyes with an affectionate smile and a kiss on her brow. This simple caress yielded many more until night enveloped the pair and Darcë finally recollected himself.
"It seems we have missed another sunset, my lord," Elizabeth remarked as they walked home.
Darcë laughingly noted the mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "And likely it will not be the last."
Darcë and Elizabeth retired happily that evening, content with themselves, each other and their world. Knowing the respective dispositions of each, it could not be said that their evenings always passed so peaceably, but it can be assured that their mutual affection grew with time and trial. And so it was that amid the violence and upheaval of the War of the Ring, there was at least one haven of love and light untainted by darkness and despair.