broccoliitree

[broccoliitree]

The Pirate Queen

Author’s Note:

Here is the start of my new series. I hope you like it!

Chapter 1: The Viscountess

The string band was playing a lively tune and the wine was flowing as everyone who was anyone from Port Royal enjoyed the party that Governor Weatherby Swann was hosting. They all were waiting to see her. The noblewoman. Just the day before, a new woman had arrived in town and took up residence in the mansion next to the Governor’s. It was mere hours before the town knew - a noblewoman from England had come to Port Royal. Her husband - a Viscount in his own right - was the third son to Baron Somers. The news had been that Somers and his son, the Viscount, were looking to buy land and start harvesting crops.

What was known of his wife, so far, was that she was sent ahead with a small contingent of servants and a bodyguard. The husband was to sail in a months time and join his wife.

Captain James Norrington listened to the gossip with interest. Why would a nobleman with no ties to the Navy want to come to Port Royal?

“I have only spoken with her for a few moments, but she is delightful and very beautiful.” Governor Swann said with a smile.

“I am interested to hear of the business prospects her husband has in mind.” Norrington added.

“Come, come now Captain Norrington,” Governor Swann said with a chuckle. “Be more hospitable to our new Viscountess. If they enjoy it here and the soil is plentiful they could bring people like them to the area. Plus, should they have children you can encourage them into the Navy.” A few people around laughed and James gave a curt nod but a small smile. He knew, as well as the Governor knew, the nobility in England very much looked down on the islands - no matter how much money they made them. “Ah, here she is.”

Walking gracefully through the crowd, Viscountess Frances Somers was gorgeous. For a moment all James could do was stare. Her dress was the color of the deep ocean with a golden pattern throughout, with winged sleeves it came together it joined at the top of the shoulders and under was a corset and dress the same ocean blue. Her dark hair was tied up in and intricate design.

Behind her and to her side, in an even darker blue, was a man who’s eyes landed on everyone in turn. Her bodyguard, James guessed. He wore a sword and a pistol.

“Viscountess Somers.” Governor Swann walked forward to greet her.

“Governor Swann, it is lovely to see you again.” She spoke with a posh accent, common among the nobility.

“We are delighted you could come. I am sorry we could not have put on a proper party.” He apologized and the Lady did her best to hide a small amount of shock before covering it with a gracious smile, but not before Norrington caught it.

“Governor Swann, your home is beautiful and this party is a very kind gesture. I would not miss it for the world.” Her voice was soft and kind, but she was absolutely intriguing to James. Something about her seemed to not fit. Like a puzzle with a missing piece. Governor Swann put his hand behind his daughter’s back and slightly moved her forward.

“This is my lovely daughter, Elizabeth.” Elizabeth curtsied and so did the Viscountess in turn.

“Elizabeth, it is wonderful to meet you. Your father speaks so highly of you.”

“Thank you, Viscountess.” Elizabeth started with a kind grin.

“Please, dear Elizabeth call me Frances.”

“I do not believe I could be that informal.” Elizabeth said quickly and her father looked on proudly.

“Then I insist on Lady Frances, how would that be?”

Elizabeth gave a small laugh. “Wonderful, Lady Frances.”

“Good! But in no time at all I am determined to have to call me Frances.” The more she conversed with Elizabeth the more her eyes calmed.

“Lady Frances, your dress is beautiful. I don’t believe I have seen anything like it.” Elizabeth’s voice seemed strained in the compliment. As if it was one not really thought of by her, but that she was asked to say. Lady Frances ran her hand down the sides proudly.

“It’s called a robe battante.” She explained. “They are currently the talk of all things fashion in Paris.” A few people gave an ‘ooh’ as she had drawn a crowd around her. “You know, Elizabeth, I brought several with me. They are new and I would love to gift you with one. You could pick the color you like best and a seamstress could fit it to you.”

“Oh, Lady Frances, that’s incredibly kind of you.” Governor Swann said brightly.

“For all the hospitality you and Elizabeth are showing me, it is absolutely no trouble at all.”

“I would also like you to meet Captain James Norrington.” Swann indicated James. “He is one of the best Naval men on the island.”

Frances eyes lit up. “It is wonderful to meet you Captain.” He took her hand and kissed the top of it. The rush he felt go through him was expounded when he looked into her eyes. What looked like brown eyes from across the room were in fact Amber, he imagined they would look almost gold in the sunlight.

“The pleasure is all mine Viscountess Somers.”

“If I am not mistaken, Captain, you are going to be promoted to Commodore within a short time.” It was true. There had been talk of it for nearly a month. The date had, not yet, been set for him to receive the official title.

“How did you hear that?”

“I have only been here a day, Captain. However, small towns seem to be built for gossip.” Her eyes shone in a different way when she was talking to him. It was the same calm and genuine ease she had with Elizabeth as well. Governor Swann moved her toward more people he insisted she must meet and Norrington’s eyed followed her.

“Sir.” Lieutenant Groves walked up to him. “Have you met her? Everyone is talking about her.”

“She is quiet lovely, Lieutenant, but-“ he stopped talking to think for a moment.

“But what, sir?”

“I can’t seem to articulate it, Lieutenant. It is like she is acting in a play around certain people.” In her interactions with Elizabeth he noticed she wasn’t as tense. She talked calmly. When she talked to others is was a false sense of confidence. As if she was putting on a show, and Norrington didn’t know why.

“With all the people a noblewoman has to meet, I expect she is in a way.” Groves responded.

“Quiet right, Lieutenant.” James replied, She stayed merely an hour before she decided to leave, blaming it on the extraordinarily long travel time. Governor Swann, of course, said he understood and she promised to dine with Elizabeth as soon as she was available. Before she left the room her amber eyes found him she gave him a small nod. He nodded back, already looking forward to seeing her again.

Lady Frances’ bodyguard walked her securely toward the waiting carriage, even though the house she rented was a mere minutes walk. If nobility don’t have to walk, they wouldn’t. When they were out of earshot Edward Gorman let out a low whistle.

“They all hounded over you as if you were the last piece of meat among a pack of dogs.”

She laughed in return before dropping her posh accent. In reality her accent had been a mash of different cultures. Growing up in the colonies had afforded her to know people from various walks of life. The closest she came was Irish, having been born in Ireland and brought to the new world when she was just four.

“All they want to eat is the power that comes with my ‘title’ and we both know that would leave them starving.” With a low chuckle Edward helped her into the carriage and they headed for their temporary home.

——————————

As James Norrington sat at his desk in Fort Charles his mind kept wandering to Lady Frances. Her surprise at the Governor saying they party wasn’t grand enough, the difference in her countenance between people. He was missing something, and he couldn’t grasp at what it was. Part of himself reasoned it was just nobility, as Groves had suggested. It wasn’t as if he had met many, or any, real nobility direct from England. But then he remembered the way his heart raced and her eyes seemed to pierce through him. For that he felt guilty. He had already made his intentions toward Elizabeth known to her father.

In that moment a woman’s laugh rang out in the corridor followed by the tone of Governor Swann. He rose from his seat and entered the hallway to find the same woman he had been thinking about. Her hair still pulled back but in a modest green dress that somehow made her eyes even brighter.

“Captain!” Governor Swann said with a warm smile.

“Governor. Lady Frances.” He bowed toward her and she curtsied back. “I didn’t expect to see…. It’s highly irregular to have visitors at this time at the Fort. Especially women.”

“Captain-“ Governor Swann started but Frances interrupted.

“Oh, please don’t be cross with the Governor. I wanted to see everything that Port Royal has to offer and I asked to see the Fort.”

“I understand, Lady Frances, just that this is a prison. And we do have inmates, some of which are pirates,” She gave a small, almost imperceptible, smirk but he caught it. “Are you sure your husband would be comfortable with you being here?” Once again something in her seemed to shift as she gave him a genuine smile.

“I assure you, Captain, my husband knows I can be impetuous. Plus, I am standing here with the Governor and a Captain. Some of the best soldiers the Royal Navy has to offer are in this building. Even with my bodyguard outside, I don’t think I have felt safer in quite some time.” James couldn’t help but give a small smile. “I would be honored, if you aren’t too busy, if you would join us on this tour, Captain.”

He thought for a moment of the work he had, but then he looked at her again. The hopeful expression on her face won out. “It would be my delight, Lady Frances.”

They walked through the fort, skipping the actual jail cells - Norrington couldn’t even begin to think about bringing a Lady near the scum they had in there - as he showed her around the rest of Fort Charles. He talked about the history of the Fort and the Royal Navy. Showed her the battlements and the courtyard.

“Did you know,” Governor Swann started, “Captain Norrington’s father was the famous Admiral Lawerence Norrington?”

“An admiral?” Lady Frances asked. “As they say, talent begets talent, Captain. Though I suspect your success is your own.” He looked at her with surprise. In fact he almost stopped walking. Most everyone in Port Royal based who he was on his father, especially when he was starting out. He worked hard to make his own path and step of out the shadow of the man that came before him. Yet here was someone who saw him without a second thought.

“Thank you.” He said with a small nod.

As they turned another corner a messenger came. Slightly out of breath, it was clear he had run part, if not most, of the way from town.

“For Governor Swann.” He said as he handed him the note, and the Governor began to read it.

“Nothing serious, I hope.” Frances said softly.

“No, thank heavens not.” Governor Swann responded. “Though, I must away. Captain could you please continue the tour, and then escort her to her carriage?”

“Of course, sir.” Norrington answered and Swann said a hasty goodbye. “Probably a dispute among the merchants. What a busy and trying life he leads.” He said when Swann was around the corner.

Frances laughed, such a genuine laugh. Now Norrington was sure she was putting on a show for some of Port Royal, but he was determined to see the real side of her as often as he could.

He showed her the little things that only the soldiers really knew about. Talked about battles and traditions. However, slowly the conversation shifted and they were just talking. About the town, about the sea. He was surprised, yet delighted to find out how much she loved the ocean. He couldn’t think of a time when he had a more agreeable and pleasant conversation. When the topic of family came up again, they were on their way out of the fort.

“You seem to be able to see through me, if I may say so, Lady Frances.” He started, surprising himself with his own words. James Norrington was not one to show what he was thinking or his emotions. That had been trained out of him by battle.

“You’re referring to Swann bringing up your father.” She guessed.

“Yes, I am.” She seemed to give his arm and slight squeeze.

“Truth be told, Captain. I have never heard the name Lawrence Norrington before now. I judge who I see in front of me. So, you are your own man with me.” His eyes turned to her. She was looking straight ahead as they continued to walk. No hint of sarcasm, no sign that she didn’t genuinely mean what she was saying.

“That’s refreshing to hear.”

“It is I, Captain, who am grateful. Really, thank you for showing me around. It was made better by your addition to it.”

“I was happy to.” He replied quietly as they made their way outside. Somehow, talking to her made her even more of a mystery.

He could see the same bodyguard waiting for her by a carriage. A coachmen sat at the front.

He was right. Her eyes looked golden in the sun. The two of them seemed to walk slower as they didn’t want the interaction to end. The bodyguard climbed in first and James took her hand to help her in. When she was seated and turned toward him their eyes locked. His eyes were such an intense green that she couldn’t recall having seen a shade like that before. Neither wanting to look away. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your day, Lady Frances.”

“You as well, Captain Norrington.” He took a step back and the carriage headed off. Norrington stood in place for a few more seconds watching it go.

In the carriage she leaned back against the seat letting out a slow breath.

“How was the walk about Port Royal?” Edward laughed. “It’s the same small island town we have seen before.”

“I expected as much. The fort is pretty similar to everything else. The battlements are higher. It would be foolish for anyone to assault the city directly.”

“They say it’s one of the safest.” He eyed her a moment. “You were in there longer than expected.” His tone took on a teasing note. “Enjoying the company of Captain Norrington, are you?”

She took a deep breath and promptly ignored the question. “Any idea what the men got?”

Edward shook his head with a laugh. “They were out and headed to the house before I got back. Charlie says he found something you will like, though. Didn’t ya Charlie?” He tapped the top of the carriage.

“Just wait and see, Captain.” Charlie called back.

Captain Alice Buckley. She had several nicknames, but the crew just called her Captain. It had taken months of planning to come up with Lady Frances and to forge the correct documents that would secure her everything she needed. Now, the plan was in full swing and everyone had to play their part perfectly. If the authorities of Port Royal figured them out, they would end up locked in Fort Charles awaiting the noose. And she already didn’t want to see the look on James Norrington’s face if he found out who she was. For she hadn’t been able to have that good and calm and pleasant of a conversation in quite some time.

They made it to the house within several minutes. Edward got out first and held his hand out for ‘Lady Frances’ to keep up appearances. The two of them, followed by Charlie, walked into the house.

The house that Lady Frances and her Viscount husband were supposed to move into was enormous. Three stories of imported stone, many bedrooms, and the kitchen was set for a master chef and his team. The view from the balcony, out to the ocean, was the only thing Alice really loved. The grand staircase was easily eight feet across and the chandelier in the front room was magnificent. Off to the left were French doors to the massive dining room. They were currently open. The table, which could easily sit up to twenty people alone, was covered in many different papers that five men were pouring over. They turned when she walked into the room. She pulled her black hair down from it’s design and let out a long sigh.

“Captain.” Giles Dolan called to her. He had been sailing with her a long time, only a year less than Edward. He first sailed under Blackbeard, then Sam Bellamy, then he chose to sail under her.

“I know you respect the command, Giles but please call me Alice for today. If one more person calls me Lady Frances I’m going to vomit.” There were a few chuckles. “Elias.” “Alice.” He said with a smirk and she gave him a nod. “What did you find.”

“Not enough.” He answered in a disappointed tone. “We confirmed the routes the Navy takes to get to the different islands. They’re sneaky. They take alternating routes and change it every few weeks.”

The fact was the Royal Navy had made it their job to end piracy. Sam Bellamy had died in a storm. But Blackbeard was killed in the colonies and Stede Bonnet was hung. Anne Bonney disappeared (most fellow pirates believed the Navy had her locked up in a prison somewhere), and Black Bart was killed in battle. The Navy was winning. And aside from just robbing the crown, something that the crew and Alice had come to love doing, they hated the East India trading company. A company that stopping seeing the profit in alcohol and started seeing the profit in trading people. Sam Bellamy had made it his job to go after slave ships - something Alice Buckley was proud to continue.

“That doesn’t sound like nothing Elias. That sounds like something that will give our ships and advantage. Good work.”

“I know there is more in there.”

“I found something.” Charlie announced. “This one I didn’t even copy down, I just took it.”

“Are you trying to get us caught?” Robert Murray asked. Once a member of the Royal Navy he took the opportunity to jump sides when Alice and her crew raided his ship.

“They had more than one. Trust me.” He pulled the paper from his pocket and opened it slowly. They all started laughing at Alice’s wanted poster.

Under a poor drawing that looked nothing like her read:

“Wanted: Dead or Alive

Alice the Enchantress

Also known as Mad Alice.

She is described as having black hair and eyes so dark brown they look black.

150£ REWARD”

She was laughing. “Guys, are my eyes black? Have you been lying to me this whole time?”

“Everyone who’s anyone knows,” Edward started, “anyone who gets too close to Mad Alice to see that her eyes are golden won’t live to tell the tale!” The men cheered and Charlie handed her a glass of whiskey from which she took a sip.

Carefully sitting at the table she took a deep breath in, trying to move with the corset she was wearing. It was rigged specially by a seamstress in Tortuga. She could get out of it and into it completely on her own. Save the guys from having to try to tie it every morning.

“So, the question is, how do we get back into the fort to try to find out more?” Edward asked.

Charlie asked the next question. “What specifically do we want to know?”

Alice took another sip of whiskey before speaking. “We want to know if they know about any pirate havens and which ones. If they have any spies on the islands, who and where. And, lastly, what they know specifically about The Banshee and the Wild Cherry.” She listed the two ships in her fleet.

She had left her first mate, James Callahan, in charge while she and a small crew came to Port Royal. The Navy would love to know they had men working for them that reported information to pirates. And right now the Royal Navy was pouring money into Port Royal. They needed to know everything the Navy did.

“Plus, we need to find out if any one man or set of men has been assigned to find our ships and our captain.” Giles said seriously. “We don’t want to get caught in the open like Blackbeard did.” They were quiet for a few moments.

“I can’t ask for another tour.” Alice sighed. “Norrington is smart. Smarter than the Navy deserves. Too bad we couldn’t make him a pirate.”

“He wouldn’t turn?” Edward asked.

“James Norrington?” Robert said with a laugh. “Son of Admiral Lawerence Norrington? Not in a million years. Lawrence Norrington made it his goal to catch and kill any pirate he found. It doesn’t surprise me James is smart. His dad was smart. Ruthless and cruel and smart.”

“I don’t think James Norrington is ruthless,” she replied as she remembered his green eyes and his kind smile. “but I don’t think he’ll be hosting the colors any time soon either.”

“We can’t go at night.” Elias said quickly. Elias was the stealthiest man on Alice’s crew. They joked he could be in a room full of broken glass and someone still wouldn’t hear him coming. “We don’t know any of the guard rotations, or how many their are.”

“Maybe we could change that.” Alice said quickly. “We throw a ball. Norrington is going to be named Commodore soon, and that would give the island a reason to celebrate.” She looked to her men with a wide grin. “We invite the entire Royal Navy on the island. Very few aren’t going to accept. The Fort will be at minimal guard and all of the big hitters will be here.”

“Are you sure that’s going to happen any time soon?” Giles asked.

“Governor Swann is a nice man, but he does like to brag for nobility.” Alice explained. “He mentioned Norrington’s promotion and that he is having a sword crafted for him. So, it must be happening within a fortnight at the latest.” They knew they were on a deadline. Their forged paperwork would only work for so long. Should someone get word to the crown and the crown send word back they would be forced to flee. They gave themselves a month.

Edward smiled. “Could work.”

“We would have to make this place really look like a noblewoman is living here.” Charlie pointed out.

“Well, we already have the furniture.” Robert said. They had rented it as is, and the person renting to them was easily fooled and manipulated. “We carefully hide any of our actual property, hire local servants and caterers. I am sure the Swanns have recommendations.”

Alice gave a nod. “Let’s put it to a vote. All in favor of a ball?”

Eight voices said in unison: “Aye!”

The knock at the door made them all uneasy for a moment. Charlie, still dressed in his coachman uniform headed for the main door while Edward and Elias closed the French doors and the curtains.

They heard low voices and the door shutting again before Charlie let himself into the dining room. “That was a servant from the Swann residence. The presence of Lady Frances is requested at a dinner tonight. They made sure to mention it would be a small dinner. Only fourteen including yourself.”

Alice leaned her head back. “I was looking forward to getting out of this.” She motioned to the corset.

“Of course you will.” Robert said with a shrug. “You can’t wear the same outfit to dinner that you wore to tour the Fort. What kind of noble are you?” The men laughed as Alice threw her crumpled up wanted sign at him.

“Careful with that!” Charlie said smoothing the paper. “I want to bring it back to the ship.”

[broccoliitree]

𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 [𝐅𝐈𝐓𝐙𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐌 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐘]

PAIRINGS —  Fitzwilliam Darcy x fem!Reader

SUMMARY —  Referred by a close family friend, reader finds herself a job tutoring a lovely young girl and begins to form an unlikely connection with her older brother

WARNINGS — slight angst, non main character death, breastfeeding (non descriptive, idk if this i need a warning for this but)

NOTE — okay so I know some of my fics in the past got kinda niche with concepts and some characters but honestly I think we’re entering a new era with that, but either way I hope those of you who like P&P enjoy this just as much as I do :) also I wrote this with Colin Firth’s Darcy in mind but I think it could just as well work with Matthew MacFayden’s (This can be considered to happen after his proposal to Lizzie but like if they didn’t end up working out)

You tried desperately to shake off the nerves that overcame you, it was not like this was the first wealthy family you had tutored for, but something about Pemberley just seemed so out of your grasp. You had received the position only through an old colleague who was moving to Scotland to be nearer to his family and had communicated with your employer via mail. From what your friend had shared his former boss wasn’t one who was warm and open, he might even be considered a little standoffish, but all he wanted was what was best for his younger sister who you would be tutoring. 

He’s a good man, he’s just maybe not as warm as you’re used to. 

And according to friends you were used to a lot warmer than most. Your father was never shy showing his affection to his children and you all loved him more for it, but it seemed to make you just a little off put with the way everyone acted in such a closed off society. 

With one final deep breath you knocked and the door was almost immediately opened by one of the servants. 

“I-I’m here to see Mr. Darcy,” you explained. “I’m the new tutor for Miss Darcy.” 

“Yes, Miss (L/N) is it?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” you gave her a polite smile. 

“Right this way, Mr. Darcy is in his office.” 

You followed the housekeeper inside and had to keep yourself from gasping at the beauty of Pemberley’s interior. 

After your presence was announced to Mr. Darcy, you were allowed to enter the room and gave a quick curtsey to get the formalities over with. 

“Mr. Darcy, it’s nice to finally meet you in person,” 

The man nodded, but offered no response. 

“I am assuming you have gone over the subjects I would like Georgiana to go over?” 

“Yes sir,” you nodded and bit the inside of your cheek. It was your job, why wouldn’t you have done that? 

“Very well, then that will be the extent of our dealings today. Someone will take your to Georgiana so you can meet her and being your studies,” 

“Thank you, sir,” 

Hamish was right, Mr. Darcy was not as warm as you were used to.

The lady who had shown you to Mr. Darcy beckoned you to follow her again and took you down the long halls and up the grand staircase which took you to the young Miss Darcy. 

When you saw her she was hunched over what looked like a piece of sheet music, making various annotations and comments in the margins. You remembered a younger version of yourself doing something similar to remind yourself of where there needed to be extra emphasis on things. 

Georgiana Darcy had a quiet shyness even just to the way she carried herself, but in that way she reminded you of your younger sister closest to you in age. She was maybe a year or so older than Georgiana and even from having barely known her a few moments you knew if they were ever to meet they would be great friends. 

“Ma’am,” Georgiana looked up and noticed you in the room, quickly shuffling away her papers while introductions were made. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” you smiled. “I’m close friends with Mr. Morrison, he’s told me a lot about you.” 

“You know Mr, Morrison? I was so sad to hear he was moving so far away,” Georgiana sighed. “He was a very engaging tutor,” 

“I hope I can live up to his standard,” you chuckled. “Your older brother gave me the impression that you’re prepared to begin your lesson today.” 

“I am,” she confirmed. “I was hoping we could start with something a little lighter though, but knowing my brother and his curriculum that might be impossible.” 

“He does have very high hopes for you,” you noted. “He mentioned to me in one of his letters he hopes for you to have the tools to be a smart, capable, and independent young lady.” 

“As long as being independent doesn’t mean being sad and alone,,” she giggled. “Come, I have a space set up in another room for lessons.” 

Georgiana took your hand and dragged you off to her study room, decorated by he you assumed, with flowers, paintings and lots and lots of books. There was even another piano in the corner of the room and she gauged your reaction to the space. 

“It’s beautiful,” you grinned. “You did this all yourself?” 

“Aside from moving the piano, yes,” she nodded. “But I told them where to put it and my brother helped me pick out the paintings.” 

“Well, you both have very good taste,” you praised. “Which might be a rather nice segue into our first lesson,” 

“Are we going to paint?” Georgiana asked, she even looked a little excited. 

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but unfortunately not. It’s a review of art history, but I promise I’ll try to make it as bearable as possible,” 

“I trust you,” Georgiana smiled and sat down at the table. “As long as you can keep up with my endless questions we should be in good shape,” 

“I’ll try my best.” 

You smiled as you set down your papers and lesson plans. You would have to send a letter to Hamish because this may just turn out to be the best job you’d ever have. 

—

It had been a few months of you working at Pemberley and you couldn’t have been happier. Your walk to and from the village everyday was a little long, but it was worth it when you had a student like Georgiana. It really felt like you were spending time with your younger sister and you thought she maybe even came to see you as an older sibling. 

You had only really spent a handful of moments with Mr. Darcy and most of the pleasant ones involved his younger sister. You hadn’t much inclination to spend time with him although you didn’t complain when he came to sit in Georgiana’s study room to observe or read quietly while you went through your lessons with her. 

There was a quiet handsomeness to him and although he was not outwardly warm and fuzzy at least he was like the works of art you would review with Georgiana when discussing sculpting during the Renaissance. 

One afternoon during lunch, you noticed Georgiana was sending her brother some sideways glances, as if she wanted him to say something and when he wasn’t understanding her signals she cleared her throat and turned her attention to you. 

“(Y/N)-,” 

“Georgiana, we’ve spoken about this,” her brother scolded. 

“No, it’s quite alright,” you assured Mr. Darcy. “We’ve made a small agreement to refer to each other by our first names,” you explained. 

“I am well aware of the agreement, but that doesn not change the fact that it demeans your position as her tutor when she refers to you so plainly,” 

“I didn’t think my name was that plain, sir,” you remarked and ate a bite of your salad while Georgiana chuckled. That seemed to silence him so his sister continued. 

“Anyways, I was meaning to ask you about your walk to Pemberley every morning, it must be terrible when the weather is poor.” 

“I must admit it worries me to catch a cold when I should be fit enough to work, but I don’t mind the walk too much,” 

“I believe what my dear sister is trying to express,” Mr. Darcy jumped in. “Is that we’ve cleared a room for you to stay at Pemberley if you wish to do so.” 

“A room here?” you confirmed and Georgiana nodded with a wide smile. “You wouldn’t have to get up so early in the morning anymore and if you’d like to walk you can always do it around the grounds.” 

“T-That’s an incredibly kind offer Mr. Darcy,” you looked at him. “Are you sure this is something you would be alright with in the long term?” 

“I’ve given it extensive thought and it seems to be the best course for Georgiana’s studies and to ensure your continued good health.” 

“Well then, in that case I’d be honoured to accept your offer,” you smiled shyly. “I’ll move my things this weekend.” 

“Fitzwilliam and I can come and help you,” Georgiana suggested. “Can’t we?” 

Mr. Darcy looked at his little sister and you thought you might have caught a flicker of a smile before he nodded his head. 

“We can bring a carriage down and help load it up,”

He very well could have people come and do that for him, but there was something interesting about how he was so casual in accepting the suggestion of his sister. 

You would have assumed helping his younger sister’s tutor move into his home to be something quite beneath him. 

“Thank you, that’s a very kind offer. I’ll be sure to have tea waiting for when you arrive,” 

Georgiana clapped her hands together as if having you move to Pemberley was the best news she’d ever heard. You couldn’t help but wonder if the closed off and distant Mr. Darcy was doing all of this to please his younger sister, but when you took a moment to glance at him you saw how his eyes were already fixed on you and maybe it wasn’t just Georgiana’s doing after all. 

—

Something you would never come to understand was how the gardens of Pemberley were so pristine no matter the time of year. The hedges were perfectly trimmed, flowers beautifully in bloom and never wilted. 

During the summer months it was warm enough to go outside and sit without a jacket by the lake which you enjoyed doing on the weekends, bringing a good book and soaking up as much of the sunlight as you could get. 

You were so engrossed in your novel, oftentimes you wouldn’t notice if someone had come to call on you, or anything around you for that matter. 

So it came as a shock when you heard a voice that was in very close proximity to you, making you jump with fright. 

You placed a hand on your chest to steady your beating heart as you looked up only to find Mr. Darcy there. 

“Oh, Mr. Darcy, I don’t think I’ve been scared like that since… well, it’s been a long while,” you tried to catch your breath and steady it. 

“I apologize,” he said. “Might I ask what has inclined you to sit out here,” 

“Well, the sunlight for one,” you noted. “And a good book which I was reading until I was so frightfully interrupted.” 

“Right,” he nodded. “I should take my leave so you can continue-,” 

“Mr. Darcy I’m afraid you misunderstand me,” you interrupted him with a small chuckle. You were only teasing him,  “If you’d like to join me you're most welcome to. This is, after all, your home.” 

Mr. Darcy lifted his coattails and sat himself down on the grassy knoll next to you, looking out towards the lake. 

“Is your family all in good health?” he inquired. 

“Yes, as of last week they are,” you nodded. 

“You have how many siblings?” 

You took a moment to count on your fingers, whispering the names of each of your sisters and one brother until you had the final count of six. 

“Six, sir. I assume it’s just you and Georgiana?” 

“You are correct in your assumption,” he nodded. 

There was a moment of awkward silence between you both before you figured you would probably have to be the one to break it. 

“I do enjoy myself greatly at Pemberley, I’m very thankful for your hospitality.” 

Still silence, but as if he wasn’t sure how to answer. 

“Mr. Darcy are you alright?” you asked. 

“Quite,” he cleared his throat and nodded. “Yes, I’m quite alright,” 

His eyes drifted over to your book and noticing its title he pointed to it. 

“M-May I?” 

“Of course,” you nodded, sliding in your bookmark and handing the novel to him. His fingers brushed over yours and you could feel your breath hitch at his touch. 

He examined the binding and structure of the book before its contents, scanning the first few pages, but you were too focused on the burning feeling that he left on your fingertips. You gently massaged it away hoping he wouldn’t notice the way you had reacted to such a simple thing, but desire was nothing to be fooled with. 

“H-Has it passed your inspection, Mr. Darcy?” you asked, glancing down at the book, then at him, your hand still folded in your lap. 

“I have no objections,” he agreed. “A fine choice.” 

“I’ve only just started it,” you told him. “I’m rather anxious to see how it ends,” 

He took one last glance at the title as if he wanted to commit it to memory before handing it back to you. 

“I shall look forward to hearing your thoughts on it once you finish,” 

You smiled when he said that, you knew what Hamish had said when you first came to Pemberley, but now that you had been there the greater part of four months you wished to believe that maybe Mr. Darcy did have a soft side. 

“And I shall look forward to conversing with you,” 

You noticed the faintest twitch of his lip as if he was fighting away a smile, but he quickly brushed it off and gave you a polite nod before standing up and wishing you a good day. 

You opened your book back to where you had left off, but your mind was distracted. It was safe to say you didn’t get much further. 

—

“Fitz, you have to help me convince her she’s being very stubborn,” Georgiana eyed you and you tried to focus on eating your dinner. 

“I’m sure Miss (L/N) has a very good reason to not be convinced of whatever it is you’re asking of her,” Mr. Darcy came to your defence. 

“But-,” 

“Georgiana,” her brother warned, but the young lady would not have it. 

“Fitzwilliam,” she mimicked him. “She’s planning on staying bolted up in her room during our ball you have to do something,” 

Mr. Darcy looked up from his plate to you, his hands holding the utensils relaxing as he eyed your curiously. 

“You won’t come to the ball?” he asked. 

“No sir, I was not intending to,” you shook your head. 

“May inquire as to why?” 

“I-I don’t have anything to wear,” you admitted. “And I do not want to make yourselves or myself out of place with the company you shall be hosting,” 

“It would be more cumbersome for us if you weren’t there,” Georgiana tried to convince you. “Most of these balls are out of societal obligation and Fitzwilliam and I would be better off with your company, not without it. Lord knows how much he hates small talk,” 

“Georgiana, now that’s enough,” Mr. Darcy ended whatever was left of the conversation. “Miss (L/N) is a grown woman and can make the decision herself on whether she will attend the ball or not,” 

You thought that would be the end of it and that you would stay in your room with no questions asked, but a few days later when you walked into your room there was an unfamiliar package on the bed. 

You picked it up and unwrapped the carefully folded paper packaging to reveal a beautiful dress, one of the latest fashions from London. Something you could never imagine being able to afford. 

Attached to the package was a note, you quickly unfolded it and read what was written. 

I hope you understand that I only wished to remove any barriers preventing you from joining us next week. The decision is still yours, but I hoped this might help. 

Darcy

You looked down and examined the dress again. It was in a colour you remembered having mentioned — perhaps it was to Georgiana — you liked and the detailing was something like you’d never seen. 

You closed the door to your room and slipped off the dress you were wearing, replacing it with the one from the package instead. 

When you saw your reflection in the mirror you knew then and there you could not let this dress sit away in a closet to be eaten by moths. This dress deserved to be worn. And even though the very thought of it made you sick with nervousness, it deserved to be worn at a ball. 

—

“I cannot tell you how happy I am that you’ve decided to come,” Georgiana linked your arm with hers once you entered Pemberley’s ballroom. 

“It would have been foolish of me to stay in my room with a dress like this,” you looked down at yourself, still unable to believe you were wearing it. 

One of the maids had helped you with your hair, it was in a different style than what you normally wore day to day, but she had done such an amazing job with it you figured it would be hard for people to figure out you didn’t really belong.

Georgiana was your saving grace for a while, helping you start conversations with others and introducing you to their guests, but eventually — just like all good things coming to an end — she was pulled away by one of her friends and you were on your own. 

You poured yourself a glass of punch and stood off in a corner, observing everything that was appening in front of you. 

Georgiana was now dancing with the others and you realized that the whole night you hadn’t caught a glimpse of Mr. Darcy. Your eyes scanned the room for him, but there were so many new faces it was almost becoming dizzying looking through them all. 

“I see you’ve taken my approach to the ball,” 

You jumped at the sound of his voice so near making you spill your punch and staining your new dress. 

“Mr. Darcy,” you gasped. “I hope after this encounter you come to realize how easily I am frightened,” 

“Again, I apologize. It wasn’t my intention to scare you,” he was sincere, but there was a hint of a chuckle in his voice. 

“I’m sure it wasn’t,” you took a deep breath and set down your drink, wiping your hands on a napkin and turning to give him your full attention. “I must say I’m surprised to see you on the sidelines.” 

“I believe Georgiana was ever so kind in mentioning that I detest small talk,” he reminded you. 

“And dancing?” 

“It depends,” he looked straight ahead, his eyes finding Georgiana’s in the crowd. 

“On?” you urged him to continue. 

“Who I’m dancing with.” 

You looked at him thoughtfully before remembering the stain on your dress and you knew there would be no way you could remove it with a little scrub of water alone. 

“I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me, Mr. Darcy,” you sighed. “It is unfortunately not acceptable to dance in a punch stained dress.” 

“Of course,” he nodded. “Although, Miss (L/N),” 

You turned your head back and looked up at him. 

“Yes?” 

“I would be very grateful if you would allow me to accompany you.” 

“Accompany me?” you confirmed. “To remove the stain from my dress?”

“Yes… or to perhaps mysteriously disappear from my own ball and not return,” he offered and you quickly lifted a hand to cover your mouth and stifle a laugh which finally revealed to you Mr. Darcy’s smile and what a beautiful sight it was. 

“I would be happy for you to accompany me Mr. Darcy,” you nodded and waited a moment for him to catch up the few extra steps to be at the same pace as you while you walked out of the ballroom and towards the bedrooms. 

You could still hear the music faintly in the halls and you admired the peacefulness of it all. 

“Does it ever feel too big?” you asked. 

“Pardon?” 

“Pemberley. Does it ever feel like it’s too big?” you asked him. 

He took a quiet moment of reflection and you patiently awaited his answer. 

“It’s all I’ve ever known,” he admitted. “I’m not sure what smaller would look like.” 

“It’s more about what it feels like,” you expressed. “Including my mother and father there were nine of us at home while I was growing up,” you began to explain. “Our home was not as small compared to a lot of the others around us, but in contrast to Pemberley it seems miniscule. When I wanted to get away from everyone I would have to leave the house, go take a walk in the field. Here I can just go to my room and I’ll be left alone,” 

“Do you miss your home?” Mr. Darcy asked. “Surely you wouldn’t stay there forever.” 

You looked at him curiously and he clarified, 

“What I mean is a woman such as yourself will eventually get married, perhaps move away.” 

“I do miss home sometimes, but it’s mostly my family. There is something about the quiet here, it’s so serene.” you clasped your hands together to stop them from swinging at your side. 

There was another spell of comfortable silence before it was broken again by Mr. Darcy. 

“Miss (L/N), if we stopped by my office I may have something that can help remove the stain from your dress,” 

“You do?” 

“When I was younger I had an awful habit of spilling tea on my white shirts so the maids started to give me something so I could get them cleaned faster,” he explained. “I-I’m not sure if it will work, but it might prove to be useful.” 

“Perhaps you should go grab it while I change out of this dress and into another?” you suggested. “You can meet me at my room.” 

Mr. Darcy nodded and quickly took the turn to his office while you hurried your pace to the end of the hall where your bedroom was. 

As quickly as you could, without damaging the dress, you removed it and laid it on your bed before picking out the nicest clothes you had out of your own belongings, but it came nowhere near even the simplest dress at the ball.

A couple moments after you had gotten dressed there was a knock on your door and you grabbed the dress and opened it. 

“We may need an area with better light,” you looked at your dark room only lit by a small candle. 

“Bring the candle, if we take it to one of the balconies it should give us enough to work with.” 

You nodded and did what he suggested before following him to one of the balconies in question. 

Mr. Darcy held out his hand for your dress and you gave it to him seeing the jar he held in his opposite hand. 

He hung the dress along the balcony’s ledge and opened the jar, pouring some of its contents on the stain. 

“Vinegar?” you asked. 

“And lemon juice,” he nodded after placing the jar down on the ground and scrubbing the affected spot. 

“Mr. Darcy, if you’d like I can take care of it,” you reached out and offered to take the dress off his hands. 

“I-,” he stopped himself as if he was unsure how to word what he wanted to say. “It would mean a great deal if you allowed me to do this for you, Miss (L/N),” 

You nodded your head and retracted your hands, holding them against your stomach, watching as he took extra care until, by the warm light of the candle, the stain was almost completely removed. 

“Thank you,” you said while taking the dress carefully back in your own hands, folding it and placing it on a table inside before coming back out. 

You could hear the music clearly coming from the ballroom, you suspected the windows were open and the sound was travelling. You thought it was a shame you didn’t get to dance, but that was partially your own fault, if you weren’t hidden off in the corner perhaps someone would have asked you. 

“Miss (L/N), I know it is just the two of us, but if I noticed correctly you did not dance tonight,” 

“I was just thinking about that myself,” you nodded. 

“If you would do me the honour of sharing a dance I’m sure we can change that,” he offered his hand. The music was slower, not something one would typically dance to, but maybe Mr. Darcy knew a different style of dance than that which you were familiar with. 

You cautiously took his hand and he brought you close to himself. You placed your other hand on his shoulder while he placed his just above your waist. 

“Have you ever waltzed before?” he asked. 

“Not that I can remember,” your voice was a whisper unable to comprehend how close you were. 

“It’s very simple,” he explained softly, “It’s three steps and you just follow my lead-yes like that,” 

You kept watch on your feet until you got a hang of the movements, allowing yourself to look up and see Mr. Darcy staring right back at you. 

You felt like you couldn’t blink, that if you did the whole moment would vanish. 

“I-I’m sorry I ruined the dress you bought me,” you apologized and looked down again at your feet, any excuse to tear away from his burning eyes that you sensed were reading your very soul. 

“No, I should be the one to apologize for frightening you,” he said. “With or without the dress you could fit in here, Miss (L/N),” 

You could feel your cheeks grow warm and you thanked him quietly for his words. 

The music came to a slow close and your movements stopped with it. You stood a moment, in that same waltzing position like you were waiting for another song to start so you could continue, but it didn’t. At least not one you could waltz to. 

You let go of Mr. Darcy’s hand and you were about to let your hand drop from his shoulder when you noticed a stray curl had fallen on his forehead, and out of instinct — perhaps from years of caring for your younger sisters or maybe even once or twice with Georgiana — you moved it out of the way, only realizing what you had done when it was too late. 

“Oh my-I-I don’t know what came over me,” you quickly stepped away. “I’m so so sorry Mr. Darcy. I should-I think I should take my leave,” 

Your movements were almost frantic as you quickly brushed past him and stepped back into Pemberley, grabbing the dress on the table and rushing to your room, overwrought with embarrassment. 

As if dancing with him so closely wasn’t enough, you scolded yourself behind closed doors, angrily lighting a spare candle and sitting down on the chair in front of the vanity. 

You looked out on yourself, a simple woman, from humble beginnings, desperately wanting something that could never be yours. 

—

“(Y/N), I am absolutely utterly restless, must we continue this lesson immediately?” Georgiana asked you as she looked down in dismay at her French grammar assignment. 

“I suppose not,” you hummed. “Would you like to go for a short walk perhaps? We can both get some fresh air and come back with a clear mind able to conjugate verbs,” 

“That would be amazing,” Georgiana shot up, out of her chair and was already halfway out of the room as you grabbed your things.

You linked arms with her and she eagerly led the way out of Pemberley and towards the lake. 

You saw a figure walking from there in your direction and you squinted trying to figure out who it was, but soon became distracted by some of Georgiana’s questions. 

She asked about the small town you came from, what it was like there, if you missed your family (the answer to that was yes, but the letter you had recently received from your father helped a little with the homesickness). 

You smiled at her curiosity, but your smile disappeared when you looked up and were face to face with a very indecent Mr. Darcy. 

Your eyes grew wide as you saw him in nothing but a soaking white undershirt and pants while Georgiana tried to hide a laugh. 

“Georgiana, Miss (L/N).” he addressed you both. 

You hadn’t spoken to Mr. Darcy — aside from light chatter at the table while you ate your meals — since the ball. You were far too embarrassed to try and converse with him after what you had done, but now here he was in front of you, hardly dressed and making your stomach flutter.

“Mr. Darcy,” you nodded. 

“Shouldn’t you be doing a French lesson Georgiana?” he asked his young sister. 

“We decided to take a break,” she explained. “We’ll get back to it soon,” 

“A-Are you enjoying your walk?” he asked, but his eyes were locked with yours. 

“Yes sir,” you nodded. 

“And your family is in good health? They are all well? Y-Your mother, father and siblings?” 

“Yes, from what I have last heard.” you confirmed. 

You stood there the three of you, staring at each other for a moment before Mr. Darcy finally excused himself to go dress more appropriately. 

After he was out of earshot Georgiana turned to you and with a quiet chuckle noted that her brother enjoyed swimming in the small lake on the property occasionally in the summer to cool off. 

“I don’t think I've seen him quite so flustered before,” she said. “He’s often so composed but I haven’t seen him stutter and stumble like that.” 

“I’m sure he was just cold,” you lied, hoping more than anything you could quickly go back inside and forget about the incident all together. 

—

Mr. Darcy walked down the halls of Pemberley a couple weeks after the lake incident, simply trying to go to his office, but when he heard a loud shriek come from your room his adrenaline raced and he ran there as quickly as possible, knocking on the door to see what was the matter. 

“Miss (L/N)?” he called. “Miss (L/N), are you alright?” 

There was no answer so he announced that he was entering the room, worried for your safety, only to see a letter dropped at your feet while you clutched your heart. 

“Good God,” he ran up to you, almost offering you the solace and comfort of his arms before remembering that it wouldn’t be appropriate. “What happened?” 

“I-I-,” you gagged and covered your mouth. “I think I’m going to be sick!” 

Tears were streaming down your face and your heart was racing far faster than it should have been, you wanted to tell Mr. Darcy the terrible news you had received. What made you cry in horror, and withered your very soul, but you felt dizzy, your dress far too constricting and making it harder for you to breathe.

“(Y/N), you must let me call someone, a doctor, you are unwell,” 

You shook your head, but not as a sign of refusal, you weren’t even aware of what was happening anymore, everything was becoming fuzzy before your knees buckled and it went black. 

You were lucky Mr. Darcy was right next to you as he caught you before you fell and quickly carried you to your bed, laying you down before rushing to the hallway and calling for help. 

Georgiana was closest and she came running down the halls wondering what her brother needed. 

“Georgiana, I need you to get Evangeline to call a doctor immediately and bring me a towel soaked in cold water and the smelling salts.” 

“What happened?” 

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “She read something and became distraught by it. She wasn’t well enough to tell me before she fainted.” 

“I’ll be quick,” Georgiana nodded and ran back down the hall to do the tasks her brother had requested of her. 

Mr. Darcy headed back into the room and kneeled down next to your bed. He couldn’t help but reach out to hold your hand and give it a squeeze, the worry shimmering in his eyes. He could care less about propriety at that moment. 

He needed you to be alright, desperately, whatever the news was, when he found out he would do everything in his power to assure your comfort. 

Georgiana came back quickly with the requested items and Mr. Darcy sat himself next to you on the bed. gently dabbing the cool towel on your forehead. 

Georgiana placed the smelling salts under your nose only getting a slight twitch from you before Mr. Darcy told his younger sister to leave it for a moment before continuing. 

“Georgiana perhaps you should be at the door when the doctor arrives,” Mr. Darcy said quietly, his eyes never leaving your still frame. 

“Of course, please do call someone if you need anything though,” 

“I will,” he nodded and she slipped out of the room leaving only you and Mr. Darcy. 

He placed the cold towel on your forehead and gave it a moment before he tried the smelling salts again, this time with more luck seeing you begin to stir and wake, realizing all over again what had happened. 

You barely even had a chance to sit up when your body erupted with sobs, your chest heaving and shoulders shaking. Mr. Darcy, again, desperately wanted to offer you comfort in an embrace but giving you any sort of added shock dissuaded him from doing so. 

Georgiana, presumably having heard the sound, ran back into the room and fell at your feet her hand tightly grasping yours. 

“(Y/N), what happened?” her voice was gentle but carried the pain she knew you were feeling. 

“I-It’s my father,” you pressed your lips together and shook your head. You couldn’t bring yourself to say it, covering your mouth with your free hand.

Mr. Darcy grabbed the letter that was on the ground and with your permission skimmed its contents before passing it on to Georgiana.

“Miss (L/N), given the circumstances I believe I should escort you to your family home,” Mr. Darcy shared. “After the doctor has come and checked on you. I’d like to make sure you’re in good health before I return you to them. They need you in one piece.” 

You nodded your head and sniffed, wiping away your tears with the sleeve of your dress. 

“A-And Georgiana, what about h-her? Her st-studies?”

“Never mind me,” Georgiana shook her head and looked at you like you were being silly. She sat next to you on the bed and wrapped you in a tight hug. “I’ll manage for a while. Go be with your family, they need you and you need them.” 

“I can’t thank you both enough for your continued kindness,” you whispered. “Especially at a time like this.” 

“Of course,” Mr. Darcy nodded. 

Georgiana offered to help you pack a bag and you accepted it graciously while Mr. Darcy insisted you stay seated until the doctor came around, not wanting to deal with another fainting spell. It was frightening enough the first time. 

The doctor arrived around five minutes later and assured Mr. Darcy you were alright, just greatly overwhelmed. He recommended for you to take time to rest and relax, but both you and the Darcys knew that would only come when you were back home with your family. 

So with your bag in Mr. Darcy’s hand, you walked up to the prepared carriage. Mr. Darcy helped you inside and he followed shortly after securing your bag, taking the seat next to you, but leaving a decent amount of space between you. 

As the carriage began to make its way off the property you stayed quiet. Watching outside of its window at the gardens passing by, thinking about how long it had been since you’d seen your father and how you wished you could have been at his side when he left this world. 

Your eyes flicked to the empty spot next to you, noticing the way Mr. Darcy’s hand was resting next to his side. You carefully inched yours closer to his, wanting to ask for comfort, but not knowing what reaction it would bring. He was — after all — a very proper gentleman. 

You turned your head again and watched the scenery outside when you felt the faintest brush against your hand, to be sure you looked once more and saw how Mr. Darcy’s hand was now even closer to yours, as if he was making sure it was alright. 

You slowly stretched your fingers out slightly to him as he made the last move, placing his hand over your own and giving it a gentle squeeze as you both continued to look out of your respective windows. You didn’t dare turn to look at each other. 

When the carriage stopped in front of your home, Mr. Darcy was the one to let go of your hand, but only for a moment until he helped you out of the carriage. He told the driver he would handle your bag and after he handed it to you, you thanked him once more for his kindness. 

“And not just this, Mr. Darcy,” you sniffed and wiped away a few remaining tears. “It’s not lost on me what you have done for me in the time I’ve stayed with you at Pemberley. My room, the dress, the small parcels of books you’d leave on my desk every month,” the thought of his generosity was enough to bring a small soft smile to your face. 

And if he had the chance to do it again, Mr. Darcy knew he wouldn’t change a thing. 

“Thank you for bringing a light back into Pemberley that I haven’t seen in many years. You’ve done me a service just as much as you have claimed I have for you.” 

You gave him one last fleeting smile as a goodbye before you knocked at the door of your home, waiting for one of your siblings to let you inside.

—

It had been three weeks since you had left Pemberley and as much as you wanted it to be, it wasn’t a pleasant feeling to return, knowing what was in store. 

Once you were let in, you headed straight for Mr. Darcy’s office where Evangeline said he would be. You knocked on the door and as soon as you heard permission to come inside you entered. 

“Mr. Darcy, I need to speak with you urgently.” 

“Miss (L/N), I-we weren’t expecting your return today. I’ll send someone immediately to prepare your room.” 

“There’s no need, sir,” you bit the inside of your cheek. “I’ve come here to hand in my registration.” 

“Resignation?” Mr. Darcy was not expecting that. “I-Is this because of the passing of your father?” 

“In part,” you nodded. “I’ve been given time to reflect on the matter and I have now realized that during my time here there have been many boundaries of which I have crossed,” you continued to explain. “This has nothing to do with either your or Georgiana, this is completely my own mistake and I wish to own up to it.” 

Mr. Darcy was speechless, he wanted to argue with you, tell you how foolish you were being and that nothing of the sort had happened, but he could see your mind was set and if this was something that would make you happy, he didn’t want to be the person who got in the way. 

“I understand your decision, and although I do not necessarily agree with it, I will not stop you,” he said quietly. 

You pressed your lips together and nodded, “I’ll go pack my things and give the news to Georgiana.”

You left his office without another word and headed to your room to begin packing. 

After everything was complete and your belongings were in the carriage you looked around for Georgiana, finding her by the piano playing a quiet melody. 

Her playing stopped abruptly when she noticed you were there and she ran over to give you a hug. 

“You’re leaving aren’t you,” she mumbled quietly into your shoulder and you nodded as the young girl squeezed you tightly. 

“I’m so sorry Georgiana,” you apologized. “Please know that I have loved every moment I have spent with you. And I love you very dearly, as if you were one of my sisters.”

“I love you too,” she cried softly and you held her close, clutching a letter you had written for her in your hand. 

You gently pulled away from her, only to be able to wipe her tears and place a soft kiss to her forehead. 

“You can come visit me anytime you’d like,” you assured her. 

“I will. As much as I can.” 

You handed her the letter and she held it close to her heart. 

“I’ll see you again, I promise,” you tucked a small strand of her blond hair behind her ear and pulled her in for one last hug goodbye before leaving Pemberley and your heart behind you. 

—

Two months later…

“Fitz,” 

“Hello, Fitz?”

“Fitzwilliam Darcy,” Georgiana snapped her fingers in front of her brother’s face and he finally blinked out of his trance. 

“What is it Georgiana?” his voice almost sounded like a sigh, the past two months at Pemberley had been gloomy to say the very least. 

“You’re unhappy, Fitzwilliam,” she stated. “Melancholic, miserable, despondent, however you put it, it doesn’t matter.” 

“Why do you think that is,” he sat back in his seat, listening to his sister. 

“Because you miss her,”

“Her? Who is her?” 

“(Y/N), you miss (Y/N),” she said. “And do not try to deny it. You’ve been grumpy since she’s left and all you’ve done is mope about. You love her, Fitz. Which is why you should go after her because I think she loves you too,” 

Mr. Darcy only shook his head at his little sister, but it was more to save his own image than to disregard what she was saying, because he knew it to be the truth. At least for him it was, why would you have left if you loved him.

After lunch he sat in his office and attempted to get some work done and unfortunately his productivity was not particularly fruitful. Evangeline came in later to bring him a cup of tea and he thanked her, hoping maybe a warm drink could get him back on track. Instead, he knocked over the cup and spilled its contents on his white shirt as he cursed himself for his clumsiness. 

He grabbed a spare shirt from his room close by and went to try and remove the stain from the dirtied one. As he pulled out his mixture of vinegar and lemon from one of his desk drawers he paused, his mind drifting back to the night of the ball. 

He remembered holding your dress in his hands, insisting that he be the one to help remove the stain, it was so simple yet to him it felt incredibly personal, he hoped it showed that he cared. The way you danced together, slowly, close to one another, scandalous by all definitions, but how you had both become lost in each other's eyes and how you hadn’t missed a beat in fixing an unruly curl that had fallen onto his forehead. 

Upon a moment of reflection, he realized that perhaps his reading of your behaviour had been wrong, that maybe everything you had done, even leaving, you’d done because of him. 

He didn’t want to inflate his own ego, but there was only one way he would be able to get it out of his mind and that was to ask. The worst that could come of it is things would stay the same. Mr. Darcy would be alone while the woman he loved moved on with her life. But if there was even an inkling of a possibility, he wanted to take a chance. 

He left his office in haste and asked the driver to prepare the carriage for him. He informed Georgiana that he was going out and that hopefully he would return by nightfall. 

The carriage ride seemed to take forever and Mr. Darcy waited impatiently for them to arrive at your home. He knew this was an unannounced visit and it was as rude as one could be, but he had to know, he could not wait even another second. 

After he knocked on your door, he had half a mind to leave, to abandon this foolish pursuit completely, but before he could give it another moment’s through the door swung open. 

You had to blink a couple times to make sure you were seeing things right. You carried your little brother on your waist and he had his head tucked into your neck, not wanting to expose himself to the stranger in front of him. 

To Mr. Darcy you had never looked more beautiful. 

“I-I do apologize, I realize how rude it is of me to come unannounced.” 

“Yes, quite so,” you nodded, still shocked by his presence. 

“(N/N) who is it?” one of your younger sisters ran to the door to come get a look at their visitor. 

“Iris,” you hissed quietly. “Go back inside.” 

“(Y/N), be nice to your sister,” your mother came to join the three of you by the door all staring at Mr. Darcy. “Sir, you must accept my apology for my daughter’s apparent lack of manners. May I ask who you are?” 

“This is Mr. Darcy, mother, my former employer,” you introduced. 

“Then what is he doing standing outside, please come in.” 

Your mother took no hesitation in pushing you out of the way so that he could enter and by that point, the rest of your sister had gathered around to see what was happening. 

Mr. Darcy stepped into your home and he was able to adequately see what you were describing the night of the ball. Your home was obviously much smaller than Pemberley, but comfortable enough to house you, your mother and your six siblings. He could understand how it might easily get loud and boisterous, but it gave him just that much more insight into you. 

“Might we offer you some tea Mr. Darcy?” your mother asked and Mr. Darcy shook his head. 

“No thank you, but may I ask for a moment of Miss (L/N)’s time? There’s something I wish to discuss with her in private.” 

Before you even had an inch of room to answer, Julia, the sister closest in age to you, swooped in to take Peter out of your arms and pushed you in the direction of Mr. Darcy. 

“Of course, you both can use the sitting room,” she smiled and motioned for the rest of her sisters to follow her upstairs. 

Finding no other option, you led Mr. Darcy into the sitting room. He walked to the opposite side and when you closed the door you crossed your arms over your chest, waiting to hear what he had come all the way from Pemberley to say. 

He stayed silent, unsure of how to string the words together and so you tried to prompt him with a question. 

“How is Georgiana?” 

“She’s well, in good health,” he nodded. 

“And Pemberley?” 

He opened his mouth to say something then paused. 

“It’s not the same.” 

“Why not?” you frowned. 

“It’s not the same without you,” he finally admitted. “The estate is always quiet, Georgiana isn’t engaged in her studies, she misses you, I… I miss you,” 

“Mr. Darcy-,” 

“Please, allow me at least to finish and then if you wish me to leave and never come again I will respect that.” 

You nodded your head, signalling that you were listening and ready to hear what he had to say. 

“When you left you said that it was because you had crossed boundaries and you wanted to own up to your mistakes. I didn’t agree to that from that start, but if that is how you see it then I am just as complicit in crossing those boundaries. I will admit to that, but I crossed those lines because…because…” 

“Why Mr. Darcy?” you stepped closer to him, just a few inches, but it was enough to see the hurt glimmering in his eyes. 

“Because I had fallen in love with you. I still am in love with you. I wish for nothing more than to have you be the first face I see each morning and the last face I see each night. My heart is in agony, ever since you left us, I only wish for that pain to be soothed.” 

Now it was your turn to remain silent. You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes, in all your time spent with Mr. Darcy you could have never imagined that something like this could occur. He was a gentleman of high status and you were just a girl from the country. 

“I know it’s selfish of me to ask of you to come back for this reason, but I would be beside myself if I didn’t ask if you would even consider doing me the honour of becoming my wife.” 

“I-” your voice was caught in your throat as a couple tears escaped from your eyes. “I would gladly take that honour,” you nodded with a sniff, wiping away a few tears and walking up to him and taking his hand in yours. “And I will carry that honour with me as gratitude for allowing me the opportunity to marry the man I love.” 

Mr. Darcy gently lifted his hand to hold your face tilted towards him as you leaned forward to rest your foreheads against each other. His thumb wiped away a few more stray tears before you moved his hand to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss on his fingers. 

“Is there any chance I may convince you to kiss me?” you asked. “If our relationship consists of boundaries crossed we may as well continue to be consistent.” 

Mr. Darcy chuckled and tucked a finger under your chin, allowing his lips to meet your own in a soft kiss filled with love and admiration for one another. 

When you pulled apart, Mr. Darcy couldn’t help but hold your face in his hands, with a twinge of a smile on his lips. 

“My dear, I know it is customary for one to ask for the blessing of the father when getting engaged, but given the circumstances, I would like to ask your family. Would you be alright with that?” 

You nodded your head, and held one of his hands that was pressed against your cheek as you turned to kiss it. 

“I’ll go get them and make some tea while you talk,” you said. 

You didn’t want to let each other go, but you knew for the time being it would be necessary. When you stepped out of the room, as you had predicted your family was gathered around the door, waiting for some sort of news. 

“Mr. Darcy would like to speak to you all,” you said. “I’m going to go make some tea.”

“(N/N) what did he say?” Julia asked.

“I’m sure that will come to light soon enough,” you nodded. “Go on.”

You shooed your siblings off into the room and your mother followed closely behind with a slightly skeptical look on her face. 

You sat and waited patiently in the kitchen with a cup of tea in your hands until when you looked up at the door you saw Mr. Darcy standing at the entrance. 

“Well?” you asked. 

He simply nodded his head and you couldn’t help the grin that had become plastered on your face. 

You had to contain your excitement and simply stood up to meet him and extend your hand for him to take. 

With one look to each other and a simple nod, you were both ready for whatever would come next.

—

The sun peeked through the curtains on a clear Thursday morning, you yawned and stretched, reaching over to your side only to be met with empty covers. As soon as there was a frown on your face you saw your husband emerge from the adjoining room with two glasses of water in his hands and your expression relaxed. 

“Good morning, Mrs. Darcy,” he said softly, placing the glasses on the table next to the bed and taking a seat next to you. 

“Good morning, Mr. Darcy,” you yawned with a chuckle. “Have you been up long?”

He shook his head, “Just a few minutes.”

“Could you stay?” you asked while fixing a few of his tousled curls. 

“Of course,” he nodded and leaned forward to press a kiss to your lips only to be interrupted by the sound of a soft cry coming from the room next door. 

You were in the middle of pushing yourself up to attend to it, but a careful hand was placed on your shoulder and encouraged you to stay down. 

“I’ll get him don’t worry,” he assured you and not even a minute later, Mr. Darcy walked back into the room with your son cradled in his arms. “I think he wants his mother,” he said while watching the little boy squirm. 

“Oh he’s just hungry,” you pushed yourself into a seated position and held your arms out to take the baby while Mr. Darcy came and sat next to you on the other side of the bed. 

Just as you had predicted, the squirming immediately ceased while he was being fed and it made you chuckle. 

“What is it?” Mr. Darcy asked.

“Nothing, it’s just you get cranky too when you’re hungry,” you let a laugh escape while your husband shook his head with a smile. 

“My darling, you wound me,” he teased and you simply smiled back up at him.

“I’m sorry Fitz, what can I say? Like father like son,” you replied as he wrapped an arm around you and he used his free hand to gently stroke his son’s head, suddenly overcome with overwhelming gratitude that he took a chance to be happy. 

[broccoliitree]

Tangled Hearts - Fitzwilliam Darcy X Female Reader

Title: Tangled Hearts

Fitzwilliam Darcy X Female Reader

(Could be seen with either BBC Darcy or the 2005 Darcy; I personally see it as the 2005 version/settings based off the 2005 one)

Additional Characters: Reader's parents, Charles Bingley, Caroline, George Wickham (Mentioned), Jane Bennet (Mentioned), Georgiana Darcy (Mentioned), other random people (Mentioned), Albert Wright (OC), Mr. Took (OC) (Mentioned), and Duke Phillip Colston (OC) (Mentioned)

WC: 7,526

Warnings: Typical Pride and Prejudice era misogyny and so on, toxic parents, Reader is mentioned to wear dresses and heels, Reader hates balls, society sucks, Caroline, banter, gossip, arranged marriages, Darcy's in love, scandals mentioned, yelling, crying, Charles is the voice of reason, itty bit of suggestion (time period wise), angst, and fluff

Pemberley. Your home away from home. The large country estate was gorgeous, surrounded by vivid green grass, and which sat across a crystal clear lake. You loved Pemberley not only for its beauty, but because the place had become your own haven of peace and solitude. It was where you could be yourself without worrying about being judged or ostracized. 

Though, during the time, you always were forced to look so prim and proper, on days where you had no other responsibilities, you would sneak out to sit on the soft grass outside. That was the only time you really felt free.

As a child, you visited Pemberley more often than not. Your family were great friends with the Darcys and Bingleys, resulting in you spending a lot of time at the residence and within their presence. You had become close friends with Charles Bingley - his sister, Caroline, not so much - George Wickham, and Fitzwilliam Darcy. 

During your later adolescent years, you had briefly traveled to the Longbourn estate, where you had grown close to Jane and Elizabeth Bennet, despite your parent's wishes. Your mother specifically didn't want you spending time with those in the Middle Class. That didn't stop you though.

Out of the three, Charles, Caroline, and Fitzwilliam, you spent most of your time with the latter. And eventually Georgiana Darcy in the later upcoming years. Ever since you were a young child, you would travel to Pemberley with your parents, occasionally playing with the young Darcy if you were both not in lessons with your shared tutor.

You never really understood why both you and Fitzwilliam were tutored together, you never voiced your questions out loud, in fear of being scolded. But, during your many years in the company of Fitzwilliam, the two of you became very close friends, which was only natural having grown up together.

As the years went on, your parents began forcing you to attend balls, and at the age of twenty-two, you began to realize that they were actively looking for a suitable husband for you. You had a distaste for the idea, but were forced to comply, knowing that they would not end the search, no matter how many times you had voiced your own wishes.

Thankfully, Charles, Caroline, and Fitzwilliam were usually always attended. And occasionally, you'd spend time with Jane and Lizzie when they attended the same events, but otherwise, you would stand on the sidelines with Fitzwilliam as everyone else danced.

Your personality, though more reserved, wasn’t lacking. You had a great sense of humor, a sharp intellect, and an excellent memory. You enjoyed reading books and watching plays and operas; at a time wishing you could play a part in either one. You were kind, and generous to a fault; which, when you were younger, had gotten you into some trouble at times. You were very free-spirited, not afraid to speak your mind in certain situations; which your parents thought resulted in you spending too much time with Elizabeth Bennet. 

Fitzwilliam, though holding many similar interests, his demeanor was seemingly unfriendly, aloof, and unapproachable. He kept to himself, rarely engaging in social activities and never participating in conversations unless spoken to first. And while he was a bit arrogant and proud, he was actually very caring and understanding towards the ones that he held in high esteem. He still remained distant from most people, preferring to watch them from afar with a critical, often anxious - though, he was rather good at hiding it, gaze. 

You usually stood on the sidelines with Fitzwilliam at balls, only occasionally dancing with some random man your parents wanted you to dance with; in hopes some spark ignites. But, you disliked dancing, especially with strangers, and preferred to read books and relax in your room. Fitzwilliam, ever the gentleman, would start up some sort of conversation with you, albeit awkwardly. Though it happened rarely, it was always welcome; all the balls that you have ever been to have always been dreadful, but less so with Fitzwilliam there.

Balls had become associated with finding suitors and respectable husbands, rather than having fun and enjoying yourself, and you were beginning to resent that aspect of life. You knew that there was going to be a very low chance, or none at all, that you would be allowed to choose your own husband; or even have any say in the arrangement in the first place. If you did have a choice, you would choose Fitzwilliam. A few years prior, you noticed that you had developed feelings for him, feelings that were growing every single day. 

You greatly admired Fitzwilliam, his intelligence, kindness, gentleness, handsomeness, and overall good nature. But you said nothing of it. You knew you had no choice in who you were going to marry - whether you liked it or not. So you kept your head down and tried not to think of it too much. Though, it was hard to not think about him, you spent a lot of time with the man after all. But, being a very respectable and composed young woman, you didn't show most of your emotions to others.

As an Upper Class woman, you were required to follow every rule laid out by your parents and society. You also had a duty to act demure in public, especially during formal events, and to appear to be a perfectly poised young lady. This was something that you hated, not being able to express yourself freely, or to be your true self. But, you were really good at it. Being taught to hold unwanted emotions at bay, which you had learned to hold certain romantic feelings for Fitzwilliam in a tightly controlled manner.

Sitting in one of the many sitting rooms in Pemberley, you quietly sipped your tea with Fitzwilliam and Caroline. It was silent, aside from the occasional clink of a tea cup being placed upon a small saucer, the sound of Fitzwilliam's quill upon the parchment, and the sound of you turning the pages of your book as you read. Whilst your mind was elsewhere, you hardly noticed Caroline as she read some letter about a scandal some banker was in before hearing your friends, Elizabeth Bennet's presence being announced.

"Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

Shutting your book, you let a small smile grace your features as Lizzie entered, her hair down and mud on her shoes. She gave a polite smile, looking around the room as Fitzwilliam stood and gave a curt bow of the head. Setting your book on the table before you, you walked over to the young woman, greeting her with a quick hug.

After a moment of silence, Caroline quietly gasped, "Good lord, Elizabeth. Did you walk here?”

"I did..." She answered as you both pulled away from the hug.

"Lizzie, it is so good to see you. Are you well? It has been ages since we last spoke." You asked, "I hope you won't become ill. It was rather chilly out this morning."

"I am well, thank you. And yourself?" She asked softly.

Clasping your hands together before you, you nodded, "I am doing marvelously, thank you. We will have to have tea together sometime soon, I miss our riveting conversations."

Lizzie's smile widened, "Of course." After another slightly awkward moment, she continued, "I'm so sorry, how's my sister?" She brought her eyes to Fitzwilliam and Caroline.

"She's upstairs." Fitzwilliam answered and Elizabeth nodded.

"Thank you." With one last look and smile towards you, she left the room with haste. 

Letting out a small sigh, you walked back to the table, sitting back down in your seat and reopening your book. "My goodness, did you see her hem? Six inches deep in mud. She looked positively medieval." She mocked with amusement in her tone, and you rather hoped that she would finish speaking, but she wasn't done. Caroline then turned to you, and braced yourself for her words, "That was rather unlady-like, wasn't it?" She asked, as you flipped to the next page of your book.

"May I ask you to elaborate, Caroline?" You asked, barely giving the woman a glance as you continued reading. Ever since you were a young child, you and Caroline had never seen eye to eye. You weren't exactly fond of each other, and you didn't care to try getting along any better than you already did.

"Greeting her in such a manner." Caroline responded as she picked up a small finger sandwich.

You flipped to the next page, "Isn't it rather unlady-like to bring yourself into one's business, Caroline?" You asked, looking up to look at the women with a raised eyebrow. She only said nothing, letting out a small scoff as she looked away. "Oh, Caroline, dear... You have a little bit of something..." You began, lightly tapping the side of your mouth; even though she had nothing even blemishing her face.

Caroline quickly snatched a napkin from the table, dabbing the corner of her mouth. If she was embarrassed, she didn't show it, but you could tell by the way she fidgeted slightly in her seat that she was anything but pleased. Before going back to your book, you glanced over at Fitzwilliam, who had sat back down minutes ago, a very, very small smile on his face; his eyes held some amusement. Smiling lightly yourself, you went back to your book and tea.

~~~

It was a particular sunny day, birds singing in the trees, and clouds rolling through the sky. It was a beautiful afternoon, and you were enjoying it immensely. The weather was perfect for taking a stroll in the countryside, and if you were being honest, you loved being outdoors. The sun felt warm and inviting against your skin, the breeze gently blowing past you caused your dress to flutter a bit in the breeze. Carrying your book in your hand, you found a nice grassy spot to sit, not too far from Pemberley, but close enough to the lake that you felt at ease. You opened your book to where you had left off earlier and took a deep breath, trying to clear your mind of any unpleasant thoughts. 

You did not know how much time had passed before you heard footsteps, but you didn't bother looking up. When the person then took a seat beside you on the grass, you moved your gaze away from your book, looking up. There sat Fitzwilliam, his expression unreadable. "How may I be of service, Fitzwilliam?" You asked, placing your bookmark between the pages of your novel, closing it gently and setting it in your lap.

"I had been looking for you," He began, staring straight ahead, "May I accompany you for a while?" He added, and you nodded.

"As you wish." You replied, "I'd love the company, Fitz." He didn't say anything else, just giving you a short nod, a barely visible smile before looking off at the lake.

You went back to your book, opening it once more to where you had left off, but you didn't feel like continuing. It seemed that he had something on his mind, and it seemed that he wasn't in the mood to talk about it. Perhaps it would do him good to get it off his chest. But you knew better in asking him to do such, though he was pretty open with you in general, Fitzwilliam was quite reserved when it came to matters of the heart; he'd hide things behind a façade of calm and composure when talking to those around him. So you didn't say anything, didn't push him, allowing Fitzwilliam to take his time.

After a couple of minutes, he finally spoke, "What is it that you are reading?" He asked, turning his gaze to the book in your hands.

Looking up, you meet his gaze, "It's called 'Emma.' It speaks of a young woman who thinks of herself as a matchmaker." You replied softly.

"Ah. I suppose I should not be surprised that your reading has led you to romantic literature." Fitzwilliam commented.

"Well, I wouldn't say that." You countered. "I simply find them fascinating, as they give me new perspectives." You explained, tilting your head to the side slightly, "Have you read this publication?" You asked, motioning towards the book in your lap.

"No, I have not. I believe Miss Caroline had mentioned it in passing once." He admitted, and you gave a small hum in response. "Though she was not seemingly fond of it."

You lightly scoffed, turning to stare at the lake before you, "I would suspect that she finds it distasteful." Another silence washed over the two of you, and you found yourself looking at Fitzwilliam. You could sense an uneasiness in his gaze, though there was something else there, as well. You wanted to ask what was bothering him, but you decided against it, knowing better than to pry into the affairs of another person. However, you were curious, and as you watched his eyes dart across the water, you knew you needed to speak. "Are you feeling alright, Fitz?" You questioned softly.

Fitzwilliam looked over at you, staring at you before speaking, "I apologize if you feel that I am acting peculiar..."

"Do not worry. You are not behaving strangely." You assured him, smiling slightly, "I am just worried that something might be on your mind." 

Fitzwilliam pursed his lips briefly, his blue eyes locked with yours. The way you looked at him caused his stomach to flutter nervously, your overall presence made him nervous, and the overwhelming pounding of his heart was deafening. Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy was completely and utterly hopelessly in love with you. How could he ever resist you? He wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms, kiss you until the world disappeared, and tell you everything. But that would be highly inappropriate and perhaps even selfish, and he knew that. He had no right to ask such of you, and he knew that; he pushed those desires aside immediately and forced himself to think rationally. 

"Would it be presumptuous of me to inquire as to if you are going to be attending the ball this fortnight?" He finally asked, his voice low, his eyes flickering over your features.

Your heart skipped a beat upon hearing the question, and you could not help but swallow dryly. "Yes, I will be attending. As you know, my parents wouldn't allow me to miss the event, even though I would much rather be reading in my room." You answered, trying to keep the trepidation out of your voice.

"I must agree with you. I would much rather be alone in my room as well." He replied quietly, lowering his gaze back to his own lap. 

"Well," You sighed out, grabbing your book once more, "At least we will have each other's presence to distract us from the tedium of the events." You said in an attempt to lighten the air, but he only offered a small chuckle before he turned his gaze back to the lake. 

Silence fell over the both of you again, with the soft sound of the wind rustling through the leaves and the birds flying overhead filling the space between the two of you. The atmosphere was peaceful, as it always was whenever you were together. For you, the silence was comforting, and Fitzwilliam enjoyed the silence as well. It was rare when the both of you had the chance to have a quiet moment together, so this was always a treat for you both.

~~~ 

Standing at the edge of the room, in your best dress from the newest season, you stood beside Fitzwilliam as the ball was in full swing. Your eyes surveyed the large room, glancing from the dancing couples, people chatting amongst their family, friends, etcetera, and finally, your parents. They stood, speaking with a man, whom you couldn't quite place his name on. From where you were, you could not understand fully what they were saying, which worried you slightly.

And it seemed that Fitzwilliam had noticed your straying gaze on your parents, and how your satin-gloved hands fumbled together nervously in front of you.

"Do not mind them." He muttered to you, leaning slightly towards you so you could hear him over the music.

"It is hard not to, Fitz," You spoke, turning your gaze away from your parents and back out upon the dancing. "They've been trying to find me a husband for the past couple of months. I am hoping at some point they will give up in their search."

"By the way that you speak, it would seem that you do not wish to marry." Fitzwilliam said, and you turned your head to look up at him.

"You know me, Fitzwilliam." You sighed, shaking your head slightly, "I do not want to marry someone I am unsure of. Besides, there were many whom were willing to offer marriage to a lady like me, and many of them, if I must say so myself, were handsome in all senses of the word. But from the few who have offered me marriage, I have turned away. I know that they had only seen my wealth, status, and looks rather than my personality. And I find that I cannot fathom the idea of marrying someone so shallow, or lacking in depth and solidity for that matter."

"I admire your strength of character." He said, looking down at you.

"Thank you, Fitz." You smiled sweetly up at him. "I admire your kindness and integrity." You added, your smile becoming genuine as he returned your smile with one of his own; though hardly noticeable.

"Daughter," Your gaze swiftly moved from your long-time friend to your mother, who stood with your father, and another gentleman you have never met before. "I would like you to meet Mr. Albert Wright. He's the owner of the Wright & Co. bank here in England." She informed you, a smile on her face, but her eyes held such excitement.

This Albert fellow was certainly some character, judging by his attire. His suit had a deep black waistcoat, a dark green vest, black breeches, and black shoes. And despite his clothing being quite plain, he did make an imposing figure; he was tall and broad, with a strong jawline, and he appeared to be very well built. His hair was dark brown, curly, and cut short, and his eyes a brilliant green.

You curtsied to him, trying to be as polite as possible, "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Wright." You greeted, forcing a smile upon your face.

"Please, call me Albert." He spoke, his voice deeper than you expected. Surprising you further as he bows his head and then offers you his hand. "May I have the honor of asking you to dance, my lady?"

The thought of taking his hand made you nervous, yet you took it regardless; not wanting to cause a scene or to upset your mother and father. Fitzwilliam stood helplessly as he watched you being led across the room by Mr. Albert just as another song began; his frown deepened, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched as you danced with Mr. Albert. 

"Lovely match, don't you think, Mr. Darcy?" Your mother asked Fitzwilliam as she watched you dance with the banker.

Fitzwilliam reluctantly spoke, "I suppose so." He responded nonchalantly, averting his gaze momentarily before looking back over at you once more. Fitzwilliam had recognized the name Albert Wright from a couple of weeks prior. Having heard what the name had done, Fitzwilliam couldn't stop himself from warning your parents about Mr. Albert Wright's past scandal. "Madam, I understand wholeheartedly that you wish only the best for your daughter, but I feel that I must inform you that Mr. Albert was a part of a scandal many years ago regarding an older woman, whose husband was a respected merchant."

Your mother's eyes widened at the news, her hand coming to be placed upon her chest in shock, "Where did you hear of this, sir?" She inquired, your father mirroring his wife's expression, but he said nothing.

"From Miss Caroline, madam." He explained, turning to face the dancing crowd, his eyes following your figure.

Her mouth parted in surprise, her eyes widening further, "This is absolutely unacceptable! Our daughter should not associate with a man like this!" She exclaimed, her tone raising to one of anger as she glared at Mr. Albert.

By the end of the dance, Albert raised your hand and pressed a kiss to your gloved hand, bowing his head as you curtsied. Finally, you had thought, saying your goodbyes and thank yous to the man before heading back to your mother, father, and Fitzwilliam.

As you got closer, your eyebrows furrowed slightly, seeing your mother and father's angry expressions as they spoke to one another. Finding your spot next to Fitzwilliam, you leaned slightly towards the man to speak. "What has gotten my parents in such a temper?" You asked him, noticing his shoulders tensing slightly.

He glanced over at you briefly and shook his head lightly, "I am afraid I don't know. Perhaps it concerns Mr. Albert." He mused softly, keeping his eyes locked onto yours.

"But why is Papa so enraged? I haven't seen him this red since Mr. Took had tried to cheat him out of some money." You commented softly, looking up towards your parents once more.

"I believe it has to do with the fact that Mr. Albert had been a part of a scandal many years back." Fitzwilliam answered, making your jaw drop slightly, your hand coming up to cover your shock.

"And where did you hear of such a thing?" You asked quickly, wanting to know more details as to what scandal that Mr. Albert had gotten involved in.

Fitzwilliam looked down at you for a moment, turning back to the dancing, "If my memory serves me correctly, Miss Caroline had read upon it in a letter."

Trying to hide the smirk on your face, you lightly cleared your throat. "Well, isn't this unexpected," You muttered, amused. "And I could only assume that you had mentioned such news to my parents?" You asked, looking up at the name, eyes glinting with amusement.

Fitzwilliam looked down at you, nodding his head slowly, thinking, "Yes, you would be correct." He confirmed, saying nothing else which only made you smile.

"Well, thank you, Fitz," You began, "Without you, I wouldn't doubt my parents would have me married off to the man." You joked before another peaceful silence engulfed you both - that is, it was peaceful for you. 

Fitzwilliam looked down at you from beneath his eyelashes, studying you carefully, almost as if he were trying to memorize every feature of your face. When he realized that he was staring, he quickly turned away, clearing his throat lightly as he gained the courage to offer his hand out. You looked over, looking up at the man, to his hand, and back.

As you raised your eyebrow in question, he finally spoke, "Would you like to dance, my lady?" He asked softly, and you couldn't help the smile that grew on your face. You had your shock well, but you were surprised that 

"That sounds lovely." You whispered, placing your hand into his gently.

~~~

The sun was shining brightly as it peeked through the clouds, causing the water to sparkle with each droplet of rain that hit the surface. You love it when the sun's shining and it's raining at the same time. You had started your day as you usually did when you stayed at your family estate; waking up in your lavish bed, before getting ready for the day. Choosing one of your favorite day dresses, you style your hair neatly, grabbing a new book before leaving your chambers. Before breakfast, you did your daily practice on the piano for a moment before sitting in one of the sitting rooms and reading your book. 

Joining your mother and father for breakfast, you ate delicious small cakes, breads, and hot coffee. Breakfast was pretty peaceful and quiet, aside from your father occasionally speaking up. After a while, the topic shifted from the conversation regarding your plans for the afternoon, which included spending the time walking about the grounds, as you had previously intended to do earlier in the morning. 

You hid your feelings well, but you wished that you were at Pemberley at the moment. You had never really felt comfortable or a part of your family's estate. You loved both your parents dearly, but they were rather strict compared to how you're used to life at Pemberley. In truth, you missed staying there; however, you were happy that you were able to stay with your family once again and you didn't want to disrupt their routine. So, you continued to smile politely through your father's comments and continued to eat your food.

You had begun to zone out at some point of your father's speech, nodding along when you thought necessary when suddenly, you heard your name being called. You snapped your head up to see your mother with a small frown on her face. "Your father had asked you a question, young lady." She informed you. You bowed your head and apologized for spacing out. Your mother sighed, placing her small fork down on her fine China plate. "Your father had asked if you desired to attend the upcoming ball at Pemberley?" Pushing your shoulders back, your mind racking at your mother's words. But before you could answer, your mother cut back in, "We know that you don't have a fondness for such events." Your mother included, which you found odd and surprisingly thoughtful, that she was aware of your dislike for socializing, and was finally letting you have a choice in the matter.

Though, you couldn't help but wonder, why now? What had happened or what had been said that would allow your parents to change their minds? Looking up, your eyes met your mother's, "If I may, mother, I had thought that you would want me to attend such gatherings. Has something happened to change your mind so?" You asked her, tilting your head slightly as you spoke.

Your mother nodded her head, her smile widening with excitement, "Precisely so, but we have splendid news for you." Glancing to your father, he then decided to speak, clearing his throat before doing so.

"Your mother and I have found you a suitor. We have met with him many times over these past few weeks and we have deemed him to be most suitable. We have decided to arrange for your engagement with him." Your father announced.

Your breath caught in your throat, unable to utter even a word. You felt as if the world had begun to crumble around you, all your efforts of being independent forgotten as your father's words sunk in. You wanted the Earth to swallow you whole, the sky to open up and spit you back out, and any other form of escape would be welcomed by you. Your heart ached as your father finished speaking, your fingers twitching slightly as you grasped your fork tightly; your knuckles turning white. 

Your lips and mouth felt extremely dry as you opened your mouth and licked your lips, a shaky breath escaping you, "Who have you arranged me with?" You asked, "... If I may inquire?" Your voice was shallow and quiet, your gaze directed downwards.

"Duke Phillip Colston, a very wealthy gentleman who lives here in England." Your father replied, watching you closely as if waiting for you to react. "I believe you'll make a very respectable wife for him, just so as long as you do not cause him too much trouble. He is an eligible bachelor after all." Your father added quietly.

Sighing inwardly, you lifted your head to look at your parents, swallowing heavily, "Do I have any say in this?" You questioned, your voice still weak as your hands clenched into fists under the table. You could feel tears building in your eyes, and you desperately blinked them away, refusing to let them fall as you tried your hardest to keep yourself composed.

"I am afraid not, dear," Your mother answered, "We have gone countless months trying to find you a respectable and kind suitor - a man who is willing and able to take care of you and provide you with all the comforts of society. And yet, all of our attempts have failed." Her tone grew seemingly irritated. "Every man we had brought to you, offering marriage, you have turned away." Her voice rose into one of anger. "You are at a point where men will not even be interested in marrying you, your refusals are becoming the talk of the town, gossip, and blather, and I will not have it." She practically spat angrily, looking up at you with fire in her eyes, a fire that you could not seem to extinguish. 

You stared at your mother silently, a slight pain throbbing through your heart as you took in her words, "I understand wholeheartedly, mother," You began, pushing your chair back to stand, and setting your napkin onto your empty China plate. "I will say this, that I have no desire to marry such a man; duke or not. My heart belongs to someone who is worthy of it." You stated firmly. You then turned on your heel, walking out of the room without saying another word.

Once you were out of their sight, knowing that they weren't going to follow you, you ran. Rushing out into the hall, you ignored the odd looks from your family's servants and maids, swiftly making your way to the front doors and stumbling out into the chill air. Breathing heavily, you felt everything rushing through your veins and blood; flowing throughout your body. Without a second thought, you stepped out into the light rain before running once again. 

You kept running and running, your feet stomping into the wet grass, hair plastered to your face, cold rain falling onto your face; soaking your dress. You didn't care nor have any mind to where you were running or where you were, you just needed to get away. Away from them. Away from them all. Your life, you had no power, no control over it; no matter how hard you fought against it, you could not escape fate. 

You had known that at some point, your parents would grow tiresome of your constant rejection of the men they had brought to you. You knew it was going to be only a matter of time before they would just arrange for you to marry someone else. It was bound to happen sooner or later, considering your age. You weren't getting any younger, and no one wanted a spinster for a daughter.

Still breathing heavily, you came to a stop in a dewy field, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. Finally, you let the tears fall from your eyes, your vision blurry as the water streaming down your cheeks. You wiped your cheek with your sleeve as a sob escaped your lips. You collapsed to the ground in a heap, feeling as if your heart was breaking all over again. The day of the shining sun and the falling rain, something that you had once adored, now only seemed to mock you. As you cried softly, ignoring how cold and drenched you were, you did not hear the sounds of hooves, and someone calling your name. Only when you felt someone touch your shoulder, did you look up.

Fitzwilliam's usually stoic expression was long gone, replaced with worry and concern. His brows furrowed together as he looked at your tear-stained cheeks, and your dampened dress. Fitzwilliam slowly helped you to your feet, helping you lean against him as he guided you to his horse. You did not remember much of the ride back to Pemberley, nor entering the large estate, nor when you were rushed off with a couple of housemaids. You felt numb as you were in the bath, hair being washed and skin being scrubbed. During that time, you had only wished the bath water to be scalding. 

You were quickly dressed in an afternoon dress - one of the dresses that you had kept in your room for when you stayed at the estate - swiftly, you were brought to your room. You sat on your bed, in the home that you'd grown to love more than your own, gazing out the window as the rain began to slowly cease, revealing a beautiful blue sky. A sigh left your lips as a knock sounded upon your door, pulling you out of your thoughts.

"Enter," You muttered, surprisingly loud enough for the person to hear, as they opened the door.

Turning your attention from the window, you looked over to see Fitzwilliam, the same worry on his beautiful features as when he had found you in the field in the pouring rain. Silently, he sat beside you, leaving enough space to make you feel comfortable. It wasn't long until Fitzwilliam's curiosity and urgency to see whatever was the matter got the best of him. He watched as you fiddled with your fingers and sighed deeply, "What troubles you? Why were you sitting among the fields?" His voice was soft, filled with concern, and you raised your hand to your hair; brushed but not styled. 

You felt your eyes well up with tears once more, a breathy sigh leaving your lips before you spoke, "I have been arranged to marry Duke Colston." You answered, a voice at the same level as the man beside you. You couldn't even bear to look at him, if you did, you were sure that the tears in your eyes would become a waterfall.

There was silence for several moments as you awaited Fitzwilliam's response. When finally, you glanced towards him, his gaze was locked straight ahead as if lost in thought, "Is this something that you are unhappy about?" Fitzwilliam inquired, his voice calm.

"Incredibly so," You answered with a breath, "I do not wish to marry that man, nor ever." You said, your words laced with bitterness, looking down at your lap, "But I do not know what to do. Despite everything, I cannot bring myself to refuse." You admitted, feeling guilty as soon as you finished speaking. Though you did not agree with the society that you lived in nor the repressing of women's voices, you knew that this was something that had to be done. Not for you, but for your family, no matter how much you detested the idea. "I will have to go along with the matter, for it pleases my family." 

Fitzwilliam stared at the side of your face, subconsciously admiring you as he thought. In his heart, he despised that you were forced to marry someone who was unworthy of you - you did not deserve that, you deserved far better. But what could he do? Again, Fitzwilliam was hopeless. He was unable to do much of anything. Right before him, you were miserable, and he could do nothing but sit here and offer you comfort. He did not even know which he could offer you at this point. He could only watch helplessly as you felt like he was watching you crumble right before his very eyes. His time was up, his hopes diminished, his dreams crushed.

~~~

Fitzwilliam sat in his office, staring down at the many papers and letters before him on his desk. The ticking of the grandfather clock was loud within the silent atmosphere, its deep, heavy, and unenthusiastic noises echoing around the room, as Fitzwilliam tried to force himself to focus. He was not successful, however, as his mind drifted to you every time he closed his eyes. Every time, he would imagine you, dancing with the Duke, marrying the Duke, starting a family with the Duke. Everything that Mr. Darcy himself had desired with you. 

He sighed heavily and rubbed at his forehead, closing his eyes briefly as images of you danced across his mind. You, in his arms. Dancing at the ball from only a month ago. You looked up at him with those eyes, those eyes that held his heart. You laughed, and he swore to himself that he would do everything in his power to keep you happy and laughing; he could not lose you. But he did. Why did he not ask for your hand?

A knock sounded at his office door and Fitzwilliam snapped his eyes open, turning his head to face the door. "Enter." He called out, clearing his throat. He watched as Charles Bingley, one of his friends, walked in, bowing slightly before giving him a small smile.

"Her parents have sent a carriage," He spoke to Fitzwilliam, "She'll be leaving soon, Darcy."

Fitzwilliam nodded, placing his quill back on top of his desk as he stood, walking over to the window, peering down at the carriage, "How long before she leaves?" He asked, but before he could receive an answer, he watched as you entered his vision, seemingly thanking the driver, and though reluctantly, stepping into the carriage.

Charles walked over, standing beside the man as he watched you leave. The man then glanced at his friend, observing him. The stoic look on his face, though more brooding, did not mask the sadness and pain that resided in his eyes; clearly, he cared deeply for you. Charles, and anyone else close to either of you, could have seen that. 

"You care for her," Charles spoke softly, Fitzwilliam's shoulders stiffening slightly at his words, "I believe that you might even love her, Darcy."

Fitzwilliam turned toward Charles with an odd look on his face, "What makes you say such a thing?" He asked, though he already knew the answer.

"The way you look at her, the way you speak to her," Charles paused, smiling warmly at Fitzwilliam, "There is no one else that looks at her the way you do," Fitzwilliam said nothing, turning his gaze away from the window and heading back towards his desk once your carriage was out of sight. "You should go after her." Charles said suddenly before leaving the room.

Fitzwilliam sat back down at his desk, letting out a deep sigh as he let himself slouch a little. Charle's words were ringing throughout his mind, causing him to frown deeper. He didn't know how long he sat there as he stared at the paper and his quill in front of him before he suddenly stood and grabbed his coat.

~~~

Sitting in the sitting room, book in hand, your mind could hardly focus on the words written in the book. Your thoughts were all on Fitzwilliam, all on the future, and your upcoming marriage with another man you did not love. Your mind already distracted, you snapped your head over to the study's entranceway, hearing muttering coming from down the hall. You could not make out anything, only hearing that it was two men speaking, but you furrowed your brows; hearing the muttering quiet before hearing the closing of another door. Curiosity was clawing at you but you turned back to your book, trying your hardest to get back to reading it.

But as two hours passed, having checked the clock every ten minutes or so, you began to grow restless. Shutting your book, you stared at the doorway, trying to strain your ears to hear anything, but you could not make out anything. The large estate was quiet, aside from the hustling of the servants. You looked over at the clock on the wall, about to stand to practice the piano to calm your nerves before your mother walked into the room. 

She stood, tall and poised as usual, a small smile on her face. With a small gesture, she told you to stand and follow her. And you did so, forgetting your book on the velvet loveseat and following your mother to your father's office. With a steady knock, the door opened and a small gasp left your lips. 

Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy stood beside your father, who sat at his office desk, leaned back, and with a thoughtful expression on his face. Immediately as the door opened, Fitzwilliam turned to face you, bowing respectively, as you glanced from your mother and to your father. Looking back to your long-time friend, you tilted your head to the side slightly, "Mr. Darcy, this is a surprise." You then looked to your mother and father once more, "Whatever is the matter?" You questioned.

Your father gave you a soft nod, "Please, join us." More than confused at this point - bewildered - you stepped further into the room, your mother leaving your side to stand next to your father at his desk. "Mr. Darcy here has come to inform us of something rather pressing." Your father answered finally, standing from his leather chair with a small grunt. "We shall leave you both to converse," He added as he made his way out of the room, followed by your mother.

As soon as they were gone, you turned to Fitzwilliam, "Whatever is going on, Fitzwilliam?" You asked as the man in question took a step towards you. 

And though he had a small frown on his face, his blue eyes held such vulnerability, such tenderness. "My lady," He muttered, his eyes searching yours, "I must confess that I am… Somewhat troubled." Letting out a small breath, he continued as you stared up at him, "For many years, I have found myself longing for you, and I can not seem to help but fall in love with you…" At his words, your eyes widened, and your lips parted slightly as he continued. "I have come to speak with your father about your arrangement. I can not force you to continue, nor can I force you to end it. But I can only hope that you could consider me as a potential suitor - husband rather, if that is agreeable to you."

You felt your breath hitch, your heart racing as you stared at the man you loved confessing that he had feelings for you, as well. After a moment, you managed to regain your composure, though you still remained speechless. Licking your dry lips briefly, you spoke, "It is," You breathed out. The words were barely above a whisper, and yet it seemed so loud to Fitzwilliam. He blinked rapidly, almost surprised at your response. You brushed the stray tear from your cheek, a small crawling sensation taking residence in your stomach. "I would be honored to accept your proposal, Fitzwilliam Darcy."

And though it was brief, you saw his smile before he took a step forward and hesitantly took your hand in his. The skin-on-skin contact, though usually forbidden between a gentleman and a young woman, caused butterflies to fill each of your stomachs as you both pressed your foreheads together, eyes fluttering shut. 

~~~

The sun was shining brightly today, as were the birds who were singing their songs in the tree branches, which were swaying lightly in the breeze; the light rain drizzled down from the sky. A content smile spread across your face as you leaned against the railing, overlooking the beautiful gardens that surrounded the estate. Your smile only widened as you felt a pair of arms slowly wrap around your waist, tugging you back into the warmth of Fitzwilliam's body. You hummed and rested your head upon his chest, your hands coming up to cover his. 

His arms tightened around your body, pulling you closer to him. "Good morning, my love." He spoke softly, planting a gentle kiss upon your temple. His lips moved along the soft skin of your cheek gently, causing you to shiver as goosebumps rose along your skin.

"Good morning, Fitz," You whispered in return. "I do declare that this is the most beautiful day I've ever experienced." You sighed out as he chuckled, nuzzling into your neck before pressing his lips to the skin there.

"That it is," He agreed before lifting his head and looking into your eyes. He gazed at you lovingly, brushing the hair from your face before leaning in and placing a soft kiss upon your lips. You sighed as he pulled away, allowing his forehead to rest against yours. Your fingers ran through his short hair, gently scratching his scalp as he hummed contently, enjoying the feeling.

"What is the time?" You asked, breaking the silence.

He glanced at his pocket watch, "Just past eight," He stated, giving you a fond smile, "Shall we head to breakfast?" He then suggested, earning a nod from you. Taking your hand in his, you brought it up to your lips, pressing your own kisses to his knuckles before he began to lead you from the balcony.

Behind the both of you, outside the window, just as the rain began to fade away... A rainbow slowly appeared.

[broccoliitree]

In love with my best friend - Spencer Hastings x Reader

Authors note: This short story is not related to a request but is something I came up with that I couldn't get out of my head. Maybe you like it anyway! 🙈

Summary: There is one unspoken rule between best friends; never fall in love with them. But like most rules, this was made to be broken. You fell in love with Spencer and as luck would have it, she was dating Toby. But when you confess your love for her, everything turns out differently than you thought.

ᕚ---ᕘ

Spencer Hastings was undoubtedly your best friend. Not that you had many friends, although there were plenty of people you got along with, you trusted nobody as much like Spencer. You had no siblings but a sister could hardly have been closer to you- you knew that.

It was odd. After all, you did only known each other a few years, but you assumed that time played less of a role in friendship than the experiences shared. And fighting side by side against a common enemy was certainly something that could bond two young girls together.

Yes, Spencer Hasting was a great woman; smart, kindhearted, brave, super loyal and absolutely reliable. And that is exactly what started growing butterflies in your stomach. However, there was one flaw that let you know you will never get to call her your girlfriend- when she could not stop babbling about her boyfriend.

"Oh, come on, Y/n!" she wailed in a tone that made you want to squeeze your hands into fists and dig your fingernails into your skin. Just a little, it would hardly hurt. "Do you not want to know what he got me for our anniversary?"

"No, I do not want to" you hissed as you dropped the fork with a clatter into the bowl.

Spencer seemed taken aback for a moment, but then her face lit up and she waved the necklace in front of your face again while you stared grimly at the piece of tomato that jumped out of the bowl. "Ha! You are only saying that because you do not know how great he is!"

Then your patience, which is quite thin by nature, snapped. "Damn it, Spencer!" you lifted your eyes to your best friend, who had moved intrusively close to you. The brunette was not exactly known for keeping a distance of discretion. "I do not care how great your fucking Toby is, okay?"

She slowly slipped her hands off the chain around her neck and the wide grin faded from her face as if the harshness you displayed tonight had wiped it away. However, she did not seem offended. On the contrary, she seemed extremely worried. "What is going on, shorty?"

"Nothing is wrong," with shaky fingers, you tried to lift the mushy tomato between your nails and shove it into the sink. "Just because I do not want to take a closer look at that gold chain around your neck that you bother me with all the time does not mean something is wrong"

Inside, you were despairing. You would most likely to want her to yell at you. Would love to hear her say how bad of a person you were, not enjoying their happiness. Maybe then you would feel less like a monster than you already did.

"There must be a reason for my best friend´s grumpy face though. You are never usually like that"

This almost made you laugh out loud. You were in the midst of a terrible war of emotions and feelings that were raging inside of you. Love and hate were close together and fought flawlessly in your soul for the rightness of them. On one hand, you were happy that the brunette had found someone who loved her with all her faults and flaws. However, you had hoped that you were the one who could offer all of those things to her.

You sighed deeply and got up to dump your dinner into the trash; your appetite was completely gone. Spencer´s face changed from a deep confusion to a frighteningly serious one that sent a chill down your spine. "It is about Toby, is it not?" In your stance, you flinched slightly and did not let a word escape your mouth, but she instantly knew that her guess was correct. "Ever since I told you it was serious between the two of us, you seemed completely lost in thought and distanced"

You still retreated in silence, but your hands were shaking so much that you dropped the empty bowl into the sink. And the youngest Hastings had noticed that too. Quickly, she jumped out of her chair and put her arm comfortingly around your shoulders while you clutched the marble, knuckles already turning white.

"I love you.." you began to speak in a low voice, looking down at your fingers scraping the stainless steel. Emily had previously advised you to stay away from the subject and try to shut off your feelings. She had warned you urgently, yet you had ignored every word and walked into a circular saw with open arms.

And worst of all, you did probably jeopardized the friendship with your stupid revelation.

"I did not mean to develop feelings for you but I did not stop them the first time I felt it and-" Spencer could clearly hear the uncertainty in your restless voice and stopped you to catch your breath. She pulled you closer and if you did not know her better, you would have assumes that she would want to kill you for ruining her relationship with the boy she fell in love with. "You have to stop,"

"With what?"

"Wanting to explain yourself," she paused for a moment, biting her lip as the front of her body gently pressed against your back and her head hovered over your shoulder. A clearing of her throat escaped her before she continued to speak. "Y/n, look at me"

You turned your face to her and saw a strange sight, two adult friends standing close together, one pulling the other into a tight and loving embrace. You, aware of how close Spencer was to you and how your heart started pounding violently in your chest, could not help but smile. "If Toby would see us like this.."

The older one seemed confused for a moment, then laughed out loud until her body shook with yours. Gently, she wrapped both arms tightly around your body and her face moved dangerously close to yours, your lips almost meeting. "I do not care"

With a mixture of curiosity and nervousness, you looked into her large and brown eyes, the color of which had darkened and was almost unrecognizable through the enlarged pupils staring at you.

"May I..?" Her gaze dropped to your lips with the warmest, friendliest smile you had ever seen and you nodded as your heart started leaping with excitement in your chest. As her soft lips brushed yours and kissed them gently, you felt the almost unnatural warmth that spread through every single fiber of your body.

As Spencer unintentionally pulled away from you, there was silence for a long moment before she began to whisper barely audible. "I have been waiting for this moment for so long, I did not think it would ever happen" her lips slammed back onto yours, slowly kissing their way down to your chin and shoulder before nibbling at the tender skin of your neck.

The sensation you felt overwhelmed your senses, letting you moan briefly before you laid your head back and thus allowed her to dive further with rough bites. Your hands settled on her hips, gently pulling her closer to you. They roamed her whole body until they caught on the buttons of her expensive blouse, that you were feverishly trying to open.

Spencer and you were so busy with each other, that you did not realized you were being watched from the patio door.

[broccoliitree]

Liars - Pretty Little Liars

Aria Montgomery x Reader

Female Reader

You had been told multiple lies about Aria, lies that you weren't sure if were actually true or not so you asked her for space.

Aria sighed after she had finished explaining the situation to the rest of the liars. "Why don't you just tell her the truth?" Emily spoke, "Yeah, we could come with you, help you explain everything to her yeah?" Spencer looked towards her.

Aria looked at each girl, before she scoffed "yeah, she's not going to believe anything from a bunch of liars now is she?" She spat out, before sitting down, pouting over the situation she was in.

[broccoliitree]

Prescription kisses

Spencer Reid x you (gn reader, y/n)

word count: 852

summary: You ask Spencer to "make the pain go away" and he's eager to help

Tags: kissing, injury (not life-threatening), fluff, tiny description of the injury

Other: not beta-read, may be cringey (sorry, I'm feral for teasing this man)

Masterlist

Spencer looked at your wrist and his heart plummeted. The angry red was slowly leaving place to a light purple, the skin still welted in the impression of your attacker’s handprint. His eyes darted to your face, while you just looked numbly at your injured wrist. Attacks like this were common, and, while it did hurt, you had no intention of making it out to be a big deal. Enough attention was on you already… maybe even too much attention.

“Does-” Spencer paused, his tongue wetting his lips before he could continue. His worry was plastered on his face. It was taking everything in him not to check each mark on your skin. “Does that hurt?” He winced. Dumb question: of course it hurt! Before he could mentally reprimand himself, you were sporting a small smile and he suddenly forgot to think. You dismissively shook your hand in the air. You didn’t want him to worry. There was no need to, after all, this too would’ve passed eventually. You were maybe a bit too eager to show off your “perfect health” and you inevitably winced when you bent it a little too quickly. “Don’t worry, Spence. I’m used to it.”

The thought of you getting used to the pain was unbearable for the young genius. Anger flashed in his chest, so violently it knocked the air out of his lungs. Who would dare hurt you? Who were they to dare try ruining such a beautiful person? His first instinct was to get up and confront them. Confront your attacker and make them beg and pay. But then he looked at you. He couldn’t leave you alone right now, not after all that happened, not like this.

He sighed. “You’re sure it doesn’t hurt?” Maybe it was his earnest, worried expression, his big puppy dog eyes trained on your injury, or maybe it was the adrenaline still running in your veins after taking down the unsub. You didn’t know. What you did know, was that you had no intention of skipping out on teasing such a handsome man. You grinned, feeling your spirits rise to the possibility. “If I say it hurts, will you kiss the pain away, doctor?”

Spencer felt his cheeks turn bright red. He took a deep breath, not wanting to let you win that easily. He took your hand and leaned in, checking it carefully. You could feel his hot breath on your sensitive skin. Your heart started racing, beating quicker and quicker as he slowly inched closer and closer. He pressed his lips on the injured area. His touch was gentle and loving. He wanted to make you whole again.

You inadvertently gasped at the sensation. He looked up at you, a smirk on his pink lips matching the one you were sporting merely seconds before. You couldn’t believe it: Spencer Reid had just kissed you. Well, he kissed your wrist, but still- The prospect of him pressing his lips somewhere even better made your heart leap out of your chest. “Spence?” You looked at him, trying to appear as innocent and sincere as possible. “What if something else hurts?”

He felt his mouth dry. Surely you weren’t suggesting- Oh no, you wouldn’t! But you could’ve. “What-” He licked his lips. “What else hurts, y/n?” His eyes scanned your figure, searching for an injury he had perhaps missed while he was busy focusing on your bruised wrist. He leaned closer, eager to find out if anything else was in need of his tender care and affection.

You felt your face getting warmer. Your free hand went to caress your lips, slowly pressing your index finger on the lower lip. “Here, doctor…” You pouted ever so slightly. “Can you kiss it and make it all better?” You saw Adam's apple quickly moving up and down, his eyes focused on your mouth as you spoke.

Spencer leaned forward, ready to fulfill your request. His face was inches apart. He moved even closer. You could feel his breath on your skin. Finally, his lips touched yours. The kiss was delicate and tender. Spencer Reid kissed you like you were the most precious gem he had ever been granted permission to touch. There was nothing short of devotion in the way his pink lips showered yours with gentle attention.

He pulled away with a big smile. His cheeks were bright red. “Is… Is that any better?” You felt your mind in shambles. The only conscious, certain thought was that you needed more. You nodded. “I need another dose… for good measure.” You felt your cheeks warm up.

If, with Spencer’s previous kiss, sweet, soft, and gentle were the first words that came to mind, what followed was perfect, passionate, and needy. His hands cradled the sides of your face, pulling you in desperately. He held onto you tightly, his body pressing into yours. Spencer kissed you with such ardor, it felt divine. You were in pure bliss, getting addicted to his corner of heaven.

You felt giddy. In between kisses, you managed to murmur... “I think I’m gonna need a prescription.”

[broccoliitree]

i loved this so much, it was so cute !

drunk. (g.w. x reader) [blurb]

he couldn't help but fumble over his words, his steps, his little grabs at you. he just couldn't. how could he when he was wasted and in love?

moments prior, george was basking in his glory on the quidditch pitch, now he was safe in your arms in the Gryffindor common room where the two of you laid on the couch.

"love?" said george. his voice was hoarse from all the firewhiskey he'd been downing like a drunkard.

"yes, georgie?"

"i wanna hic kiss you all over the face."

"not when you smell like a pub, my love." you chuckled at his drunken state.

an inebriated george weasley was something you'd cherish. he was straightforward, and flirtatious, but stupid. nevertheless, he was your silly boy. he knew it deep in his heart, whether sober or not.

just as you were about to shift on the couch to make more space for your legs that had gone numb under his body weight, george shot up, straddled you and cupped your face in his hands.

his flushed complexion brought out the freckles that speckled his beautiful face. his face was just as red as his crimson quidditch robes. your eyes locked with his, then down at his luscious lips.

"georgie's gonna kiissss youuu!" said george. his slurred words were adorable.

he slowly pulled your face closer to his. the warmth of his breath tickled your nose. painfully, he closed the distance.

then he rubbed your noses together.

there was no kiss.

"george, you're such a tease!" you laughed out, hitting him playfully on the shoulder.

george chuckled, "i'm sorry love, i just couldn't help it. you're so cute when you're all riled up!"

he brushed the hair out of your face. his face was no longer flushed.

"how'd you enjoy drunk weasley?"

"i loved every second of him."

--

[broccoliitree]

The Hidden Realm

Lord Elrond x Queen Rhyannon (OFC) (Unknown Chapters)

Work Summary: King Thranduil has been engaged in a centuries-old feud with the fae realm, Tir Na Nog. The problem is, none of the other elves believe this realm exists. Until Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel visit for a MidSummer festival and run into the Fae Queen herself, Rhyannon. Who happens to be crashing the festival in a bid to declare open war on the elves. Can a peaceful solution be found?

Playlist

Queen Rhyannon Bio

Diverder by @firefly-graphics​

Chapter 1: The Invitation

Summary: Elrond doesn’t socialize as much since his wife sailed west years ago. Thranduil isn’t one to take no for an answer.

Keep reading

[broccoliitree]

i’m so happy you decided to continue with this series, vaya! you’ve done an amazing job with chapter 5 :D also, before my long as comment, i can’t help but think of the origin of that gif—the umbrella bird. sorry. anyway.

i know EXACTLY why you wrote legolas the way you did. it’s completely accurate, completely in character and completely ANNOYING. like it shouldn’t be, because obviously legolas is an elf and pda is defo not his thing but it feels more like it’s about her rather than him & ouch. but the complications and the confusion was so well written and explored !

legolas’ conflict is so interesting to read, especially because he’s having to feel this conflict for the both of them bc like the reader isn’t capable of feeling the same things since she hasn’t got that guilt or embarrassment or understanding yet and she may never have it in the way that he does, or the way that she might have done if she weren’t Rámaitë Mahtar. i think it’s all thought out really well.

it had the perfect amount of subtlety between the awkward interaction & legolas’ and aragorn’s reactions to what happened. i think you’re building this up so well and i’m so intrigued for the next chapters. again, the way you’ve incorporated the innocence of the reader but also the complete lack of it that she has. she’s all instinct & reaction. it’s very interesting.

also the end i was like oh.

The Innocence of Brutality Pt. 5 [Legolas/F!Reader]

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

A.N: so I originally was going to end this fic at pt. 4, but somehow everyone loved it?? so we are continuing. i hope you enjoy! Also it gets the tiniest bit heated 🌶

Request: none

Pairing: Legolas X Fem!Reader

Summary: The Reader is Rámaitë Mahtar, a warrior spirit race, and she meets the fellowship on their quest to destroy the ring.  

Disclaimer: Any mythology relating to the Rámaitë Mahtar is not canon as I made up Rámaitë Mahtar. Also, all elvish was translated from a translator site—it may not be accurate.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: nudity (not sex), mentions of war, mentions of torture, violence, fluff

MASTERLIST | AO3 | WATTPAD

The gentle rays of the morning sun, dancing with a pink and orange hue, crept through the glass of the shitty window of the inn. The light fractured and bent from the cracks that shattered through it, creating rainbows across the room. These little clusters of colorful light dashed across the wooden walls and flooring, and filtered across Legolas skin. This (Y/N) found fascinating. 

Keep reading

[broccoliitree]

i saw you posted the next part so i figured that was a perfect opportunity for getting around to part 4, which, by the way, i adored.

the way you set up this chapter was expertly done ! and i loved that aragorn was the one to explain what love really was (and i loved the explanation) because he was the best one to do it. i love the relationship the reader is building with the hobbits, probs one of my fav tropes fr in lotr fics.

i like that outwardly, legolas’ jealousy isn’t obvious, because i feel like as an elf it wouldn’t be. not that he wouldn’t feel it just as deeply as anyone else, but he just wouldn’t show it like everyone else. and i think you did that perfectly.

also that was hot. yum. literally as soon as i read the scene where the reader saw two people kissing i was like ‘pls pls pls pls’

AND OO more info on the reader and what happened. AND A CUTE CONFESSION FR? spoiled so much in one chapter i am here for it.

anyway, loved this as always <3

The Innocence of Brutality Pt. 4 [Legolas/F!Reader]

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 5

A.N: so here is the fourth part! unsure if I will make more parts because this fic hasn’t been as popular as my previous ones idkkkk? But I do wanna get a chapter of FATE up before I consider adding to this series?? lol don’t mind this ramble. EDIT: okay I will not discontinue this series I didn’t realize so many people did like it???

Request: none

Pairing: Legolas X Fem!Reader

Summary: The Reader is Rámaitë Mahtar, a warrior spirit race, and she meets the fellowship on their quest to destroy the ring.  

Disclaimer: Any mythology relating to the Rámaitë Mahtar is not canon as I made up Rámaitë Mahtar. Also, all elvish was translated from a translator site—it may not be accurate.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: nudity (not sex), mentions of war, mentions of torture, violence, fluff

MASTERLIST | AO3 | WATTPAD

Only a couple days later, the fellowship approached a small town. It was small enough not to be very noticeable, yet large enough to have a marketplace to purchase some clothing for (Y/N) along with other supplies that they may need.

Keep reading

[broccoliitree]

omg so sweet. ur so good at writing fluff !

blankets

pairing: remus lupin x gn!reader

summary: remus and y/n cuddle underneath a warm blanket on a cold night

pronouns used: they/them

word count: 202 | warning/s: none! |

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Warmth engulfed Y/N’s body as they lie comfortably in the depth of their bed. Their whole body was taken in by the feeling of heat, heat that was welcoming and secure. It was heat from Remus, whose body took in theirs as they lay together in silence. His heartbeat was drumming against the side of Y/N’s face in a nice, rhythmic sensation. It was comforting to them.

Remus’ body heat wasn’t the only thing keep Y/N warm. The large, cross stitched blanket that was wrapped around the couple trapped in every bit of warmth that radiated off them. The yarn was both blue and green, stitched together to make a pretty collage of colors. When not used, it was laid out for everyone to see.

Y/N could feel Remus’ fingers tracing their back slowly, and they couldn’t help but smile softly at the feeling. They enjoyed their boyfriends’ touch, no matter how big or small. Something about his touch was sage to Y/N, and they liked that about him. He was always very welcoming.

And as Y/N drifted off into sleep, their only thoughts were of how content they felt on the arms of their lover.

[broccoliitree]

i loved this !!

chocolate

pairing: remus lupin x gn!reader

summary: after a full moon, y/n visits remus with a chocolate bar and cuddles

pronouns used: they/them

warning/s: mentions of full moon, marks, and scars | word count: 354 |

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Full moons were the roughest part of the month for Remus. Being a werewolf was never easy, but full moons took a toll on him. He came back beaten and bruised, earning a scar each month. He’d counted nearly three dozen scars on his body.

Remus’ eyes were fluttering shut, hardly staying awake. James was worriedly zooming around their dorm room in a weak attempt to help his friend out. However, per usual, he wanted no help. He only wanted sleep and left alone.

“Just leave me alone,” Remus groaned into his pillow. He was thankful for his friends, but he wanted alone time. “I’m tired.”

Before anyone could protest his statement, Y/N strutted into the dorm room. They had a large blanket in hand, and a chocolate bar. It was Remus’ favorite brand, and they kept it handy just for him. Especially for mornings like this.

His face lit up at the sight of Y/N, sitting up with a wince. He opened his arms up for them, a small smile on his face. James, however, was simply shocked. His mouth sat agape, watching them tuck into his arms.

“You’ll let Y/N in here, but not me?” James asked, slightly offended. Y/N had pulled Remus down into the bed comfortably, letting him rest on their chest. They’d wrapped him up in the blanket, too, keeping him close.

“Well they aren’t loud,” Remus replied, relaxing info Y/N. “And they’re warm”

“Sleep well then, lovebirds,” James said, walking out of the dorm to get to class. He always promised to get Remus his notes. The boy needed his rest, and his friends acknowledged and respected that.

“You brought my chocolate, right?” Remus whispered to Y/N, already half asleep in their arms. They only hummed in agreement, tracing their fingers against his back gently.

It took no time for Remus to sleep. He was desperate for it, so it came fast to him. Sleeping in Y/N’s arms was one of his favorite things to do. It was comforting, safe. He felt wanted in their arms, and that’s all that counted.

[broccoliitree]

CUTE !!

first kiss

pairing: remus lupin x gn!reader

summary: during a party, remus can’t seem to handle his urges, kissing y/n. 

pronouns used: they/them

warning/s: underage drinking, tipsy, parties. | word count: 337 |

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A large pressure in Remus’ ears weigh down on him, building up tension as he sits alone. His knee bounces as he sits, oversensitive senses going berserk. James and Sirius threw one of their parties, a random Saturday night when they were particularly bored. They invited anyone that they could, the entire Gryffindor common room filled like sardines.

Remus likes a good party. He enjoys the rush it gives, and the chance of socialization he gets. However, sometimes too many people are too much for him. The loud music and huge crowd overwhelmed Remus.

Even though he was overwhelmed, Remus caught eye of Y/N, his longtime crush. He’d yet admitted his feelings for them, always chickening out before he could. That left him with repressed feelings and flustered behavior that were hard to overcome.

But with a fuzzy mind and half a firewhiskey deep, Remus had a sudden boost in confidence washing over his body. The way Y/N danced rhythmically to the music entranced him. Like a tight grip of a hand, Remus found his way stumbling to them, his eyes slightly glossed over.

“Remus!” Y/N practically shouted, looking up at the brown haired boy with a large smile while they greeted him. Only that greeting had gotten out before Remus had finally made his move. With his newfound confidence boost, he took Y/N’s face in his hands, pulling them in for a long, loving kiss.

It felt as if the room was spinning around the two, heads rushing with thousand of thoughts at once. The kiss felt like an eternity of bliss, a feeling Remus never wanted to let go of. It took everything in him to stop, looking Y/N straight in their eyes.

They were shocked, confused, and relieved more than anything. Y/N didn’t realize just how much they needed that kiss until that moment.

“I really needed to get that off my chest,” Remus whispered, nose brushing against Y/N’s as they smile.

“Well I’m glad you did.”

[broccoliitree]

oh my god this was perfect ! i loved haldir in this and they way you wrote it felt so right for his character. amazing !

Just one night of peace (Haldir x Reader)

Request from my old blog

First of all, I'm incredibly happy that you're back on track! I've missed you! 💖🥰 And as you wanted some requests, could you write a promt 20 from promt/injury list for Haldir? 👉🏼👈🏼

Prompt: It’s the middle of the night, and you shouldn’t be walking around when you can’t barely walk.

Tags: Hurt/Comfort; Haldir is sweet; reader is a bit stubborn

Word count: 842

Warnings: injured!reader

The Moon illuminated your way in the darkness of the night. You carefully walked under the trees, feeling the wind in your face for the first time in days.

You were still recovering from an orc attack where you fought. They tried to attack the borders of the Lothlórien, but of course it was in vain. However, you ended up injured by one of them and it would take a time for you to recovering from all the injuries.

The healers told you to stay in bed, quiet and not moving so much, and for the last one they were completely right since your leg was realy hurt. But you missed deeply walking around Lothlórien and seeing the beautiful lake at night, so you decided that just one walk wouldn't make difference.

You were almost in the place where you wanted to. It's been around one or two hours since you left your room. You walked slowly; very slowly. Trying not to fall, and stopping every now and then because of the pain you were feeling.

Your leg burned at that point, and you regreted leaving your bed. But you were stubbor and you would not come back. Not until you got what you wanted and you could see the lake already, it was very close.

You heard a soft crack coming from your leg and you had to stop. It suddenly started to hurt, nothing too much, but still you needed to be quiet for a moment. You tried to sit, but you lost your balance and when you were about to fall, you felt a pair of arms holding you.

"What are you doing here, Y/N? Shouldn't you be in bed?" A familiar voice asked you and when you turned, you saw Haldir's face.

His eyes held confusion and he was clearly worried about you.

"Hi Haldir!" You said, trying to make your voice sound cheerful so maybe he would forget that you shouldn't be walking around. But he didn't answer, and kept looking at you.

"Beautiful night, isn't it?" You said and Haldir just raised an eyebrow, clearly knowing your intentions.

"Don't change the subject, Y/N. Why are you here? It’s the middle of the night, and you shouldn’t be walking around when you can’t barely walk", he said.

He sat with you on the floor, helping you so you would not hurt yourself again.

"I was just tired of staying in bed", you said pouting and looking down at your hands, now on your lap.

"All I wanted was to see the lake and feel the air of the forest. It's been days already, Haldir. But I don't get better soon..."

Haldir sighed to himself and sat behind you, holding you in his arms in a protective way.

"Meleth, you need to have patience. You need to rest. It's the only way you'll get better and not walking around when you shouldn't", he said firmly but somehow with a soft voice.

You didn't answer him, and silence fell between you for a few seconds.

"How about this: I take you to the lake, we spend a few minutes in there and then I take you back?" He asked, caressing softly your arms.

You hesitate for a moment, but agreed in the end. Going there for a few minutes was better than nothing, and going back after all the effort you did to walk to the lake was not something to consider.

Haldir took you on his arms, bridal style, and making sure you were not feeling any kind of pain. He walked just a bit until you finally were near the lake.

The water was so clean, it was possible to see all the lives under the water and the reflection of Moon made the sight even more beautiful.

Haldir sat once more with you. Focusing on you and everything around, to make sure you would be fine. He let you appreciate the nature for a moment and helped you to put your feet on the water for a few minutes, and for the first time in days, you felt free again.

The few minutes he gave you, turned into an hour; but he couldn't wait anymore. You had to come back.

"Y/N," he gently called you. "It's time to go back!"

You knew you couldn't argue with him, for he gave you more time than he told you at first. You simply started to walk back to the forest, but once more Haldir's arms stopped you.

"I'll carry you back. You can't walk well now".

He did as he said, and walked back to your room. Fortunately, no one saw you leaving and you could go back safely without any scold from the healers.

Haldir laid you down on the bed again, but he didn't leave the room. He felt something wrong with you, and decided to stay.

He sat on the bad by your side, and started to caress your head in a comforting way. You were feeling so peaceful, so calm that you decided to let him stay with you.

"Rest now, Y/N. I'll stay here".

And so he did, making you feel less lonely and forget the pain. At least for that night.

[broccoliitree]

this was so calm and comforting, i loved it. i’m not a morning person either so i could imagine myself so easily in this fic :D

Autumn Breeze (Elrond x Reader)

Summary: Elrond enjoys walking in the morning while you prefer to sleep.

Words: 633

Tags: Fluff

*from my old blog

The wind sang early in the morning, moving softly the leaves of the trees. It was the beginning of Autumn and the changes in the nature were visible and the landscape was beautiful.

Elrond prepared himself to go on a walk, appreciating the view from the window while he changed his clothes. He went to his wardrobe to get a properly outfit to go out, trying to not make much noise to not wake you up. The Sun wasn’t in the top of the sky yet, still hiding a bit of its light, and the silence of Imladris at that hour made everything more peaceful.

He was about to take his cape when he heard a soft, tired moan coming from behind him. When he turned to see you, he saw that you had woken up and was staring him with sleepy eyes.

“Where are you going?” You questioned, with your voice showing how tired you still were.

“I’m going to a walk, Y/N. Go back to sleep.” Elrond spoke softly, almost a whisper to no bother you, while ha approached your body on the bed to give a soft kiss. When he lowered himself to press the kiss on your forehead, you wrapped your arms around him tightly. You didn’t want him to go.

“It’s not even morning yet! Please stay for a while…” You said, dragging a bit your voice but he just chuckled.

“My love, you know I enjoy my morning walks. And it is morning already, if you open your eyes you will see. Why don’t you come with me?”

You simply huffed at his question. He knew you didn’t exactly enjoy walking so early in the morning and the cold weather made you lazy. Also, it was your rest day; why would you both wake up so early?

“This is not fair…” You started with a sly voice and Elrond raised an eyebrow, but his eyes were showing he was amused by the situation. He loved to see you like this, he found you adorable and he could never hide his tiny smile (even if you didn’t exactly find the situation good).

“You are supposed to stay here. It’s a day for you and me to rest and forget everything!”

“I will forget everything, on my walk while I appreciate the amazing view of the Autumn. Oh, you can’t deny the landscape is beautiful at this time of the year.” He said softly, while he caressed one of your cheeks tenderly.

“That’s not what I meant. Stay with me? Please? We can go to a walk at the end of the day, I will go with you. But please, just stay here with me?” You said, your eyes showing him that glare he could never refuse. “I can give you cuddles!” A bright smile appeared on your face.

Elrond sat there, by your side, still caressing your face softly and appreciating his partner there. His face showed a thoughtful expression, while the silence took place between you two. The only sound you had was of the breeze outside.

“All right, I will stay.” He started and you gave him a soft smile in return. “But you will have to deal with something first.”

“What?”

When you finished your phrase, Elrond wrapped his arms around you tightly, making you lay back again. He hugged you with so much love and care, that made you feel safe. He kissed your forehead, then your cheeks before kissing softly your lips. You couldn’t help but smile at the action. He lay there with you, bringing you closer to him. Soon enough, you felt your eyes heavy, wanting to close again. He covered you with one of the blankets and kissed you one more time.

Everything was peaceful, as the autumn breeze.

[broccoliitree]

So cute omg !!!

Flower Crown (Thranduil x Modern!Reader in Middle Earth)

Summary: You and Thranduil spend a calm afternoon together.

Word count: 446

Tags: Fluff

*from my old blog

The day was warm and calm, with a soft breeze shaking the leaves on the ground. You sat with Thranduil, under the shadows of the trees, his arms wrapped around your waist pulling you as close as he could to him.

It was spring now and you were very happy. You liked all the seasons of the year, but spring always had a special place in your heart. Seeing the beauty of these lands, you couldn’t wait to see how would Middle-Earth be on spring; you were sure the landscape would be unbelievably beautiful and you were right. It was magical, the flowers, the nature and even the animals were indeed an amazing sight. And of course, the more time passed the more you learned about elvish culture.

The Spring Festival was coming soon and you were very excited about it, for all your friends told you how enjoyable the festival was, with music, food and, according to Thranduil, the wine was the best part. You had many doubts about it and everyone was more than happy to answer them, specially Thranduil.

“Thranduil!” You suddenly said, jumping and turning to look at him.

“Yes, meleth?” His eyes showing is amusement and his lips forming a small smile.

“Do you have, like, a king and a queen for this... speing festival? Someone with beautiful clothes and beautiful crown?” You asked, your voice showing your curiosity. Thranduil chuckled.

“Well, I am the king meleth. I wear a crown.” He said while his hands caressed your hair. You raised one eyebrow and he smirked at your reaction, but you just looked back at the beautiful place you were.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize what Thranduil was doing. He had white and blue flowers with him and with all the patience of the world he tangled them together, shaping them on a circle. You stared at his work with curiosity, observing every movement he made.

When he finished, you saw that he made a beautiful flower crown and you were amazed at it. He gently smiled at you and placed the crown in your head.

"The Spring Festival needs a queen as well!" He said while his hands made their way to caress your cheeks.

"That’s beautiful, Thranduil. Thank you!" You said in a low voice. After you finished your sentence, he placed a small kiss on your forehead and then he gave you a soft kiss on your lips, making you smile.

"This is the one of the most beautiful afternoons I ever had..." Thranduil murmured in your ear while his strong arms embraced you again.

"Definitely is!" You answered, taking his hands on yours, enjoying every single moment you had on that majestic place.

[broccoliitree]

i am DECEASED. the last line 🥹 i loved this !

Won't let you fall (Thranduil x reader)

Summary: You and Thranduil had a stressful day, and all he wants is to relax with you on his throne room for a while. You, unlike him, have a fear of heights and that special room in the palace is one of your least favorite places.

Word count: 350

Tags: fluff; comfort (?)

Warnings: a little bit of tension with fear of heights.

Penneth - little one

*from my old blog

You and Thranduil were walking to the throne room. He asked you to go and stay there with him for a while, just to enjoy his rare free time, and enjoy all the view that the room had to offer, since both of you had a stressful day.

You were so distracted by everything that happened that you completely forgot one thing: you were afraid of high places, and the throne room was a quite high place.

At the thought of it, you started to tremble a little bit, thinking about it and all the times you avoided going there because of it, and Thranduil seemed to notice your change of behavior.

“Are you okay meleth nin?” He asked a little bit concerned. “Yes, I just…Are you sure you want to go to the throne room? We can go to our chambers or the garden perhaps?”

He realized what was going on, but he merely turned to you and said “We are going to the throne room,” and extended his hand to you. You shivered a little but agreed and took his hand on yours. After some more corridors you two finally arrived there.

The view was absolutely breathtaking and this no one could deny. You stopped on the last step just thinking if you should go back. Thranduil giggled, sitting on his throne with all the calm he could have.

"Come here and sit with me darling,” he said smiling, but you didn’t. Instead, you stayed there looking around.

“You know, I just remembered something, I’ll go to…the kitchens, yeah, the kitchens and I’ll be back soon…”

He got up quickly and went to you. His arms wrapped around you firmly, but in a comfort way. He scooped you up and went back to his throne. You clung your hands in his robes and he chuckled a little at the action.

"You know what penneth? One of these days you’ll trust me not to let you fall…”