oops?
I was looking for my most recent stories (since I'd invented an entirely different, even-more-elaborate verse before I ran away), and realized that one was under f-lock and the other had never been posted here at all. So, here's the first:
title: Ten Facts About Elizabeth Bennet
verse: Comforts and Consequences (i.e., canon-compliant, but also an internally consistent verse, hopefully)
(10) She's been her father's favourite since she began to talk.
She often suspects she’s been her mother’s least favourite from about the same time.
(9) She's fourteen or fifteen when she befriends Charlotte Lucas, then an impossibly sophisticated one and twenty, even though they've lived in the same neighbourhood for - well, forever.
Elizabeth didn't really know her until then. Charlotte is seven years older, she tells herself - those years are less a gap than a chasm before that age - but the truth is simpler.
Elizabeth doesn't know any of the tradesmen's daughters.
(8) Elizabeth doesn't worry about problems she can't do anything about.
If she did, her life would be nothing but worries.
(7) When it comes to dances, Elizabeth is drawn to reflections of herself: the vivacious, the easy, the witty, the charming.
When it comes to life, however, she draws others about her: Jane, Mr Bennet, Charlotte, Mrs Gardiner; Darcy. They're not her opposites by any stretch of the imagination, but they're different. They're not mere alternate selves, no part of that line of shadow-Elizabeths.
After all, she certainly does not possess her sister's serenity, her father's wry detachment, her friend's pragmatism, her aunt's reserve, her - lover's? - well, his cool temper.
They're something apart than herself, different, other: something that, in the end, she cannot help but love.
(6) When Bingley looks for Jane in her face, it's a sign of his lingering devotion.
When Elizabeth looks for Darcy in Lady Catherine and Miss Darcy, it's a sign of -
Nothing , she thinks at the time. He is her only significant connection to them; it's only natural to look for the familiar in strangers' faces.
Later, she wonders if it was a sign of something, after all. Not love. Just something.
(5) Elizabeth rather misses having a dog about - the adoration, the unstinting loyalty and sympathy. Darcy, who considers dogs a necessary evil (and dotes upon cats, of all wretched beasts) listens to her with a sort of bemused incredulity.
Several months later, they are happily ensconced at Pemberley, enjoying Christmas with Georgiana and the Gardiners. She gives him an illuminated manuscript. Darcy gives her a ruby necklace and a puppy.
(4) Almost as soon as the engagement is announced, Elizabeth begins to receive letters: letters from Cornwall, letters from Yorkshire, letters from London, Derbyshire, Gloucestershire, even Ireland.
A bare handful are from her own relations; Darcy identifies the rest of her would-be correspondents as “my uncle” or “my grandmother” or “my cousin Philadelphia -- the married one; little Phylly’s should not have arrived yet.” Elizabeth listens in some confusion and no little bemusement, but she is pleased -- for, beneath the differences in style, they all say one thing.
May your marriage be a happy one.
(3) Elizabeth doesn’t care about Darcy’s estrangement from his aunt, not at first. Lady Catherine is nothing to her, and Darcy seems content to manage the rest of his army of relations.
After a few months, however, the army begins to differentiate into individuals: reserved Cassandra, friendly Lady Auckland, bold, wilful Lavinia, sweet-tempered Lord Darcy and his frail mother. She sees them more often than she does her own family, negotiates between feuding factions and permits a privileged few to bring their problems to Darcy himself.
They matter: not simply because she likes most of them, nor even because they do, after all, have some effect on her own life. They matter because they are Darcy's family, just as Mary, Kitty, the Gardiners, Mr and Mrs Bennet, even the Wickhams, are hers.
Elizabeth slips some money into a letter to Lydia, and thinks about an arrogant, ungracious woman who, perhaps, loves her nephew.
(2) Elizabeth's first child is a girl, christened Elizabeth Philadelphia Jane for her mother and godmothers. There is another Elizabeth that year: the Wickhams’ firstborn, undoubtedly named to curry favour with her wealthy aunt.
The aunt in question may not be fooled, but she interests herself in the child nonetheless.
When Eliza Bingley comes along, eleven months later, Elizabeth dotes on her with a clear conscience.
(1) In their different ways, all the Darcys hate George Wickham.
Elizabeth hates him most of all.
Notes Self-indulgent rambles that are possibly longer than the story: It's largely irrelevant to the fic, but since this is really the opening story for this verse, stuff about the relatives mentioned in 3 & 4. (But seriously, you don't need to know.)
my uncle: the earl mentioned in passing in P&P, here Lord Ravenshaw of Ecclesford (and therefore also the lord mentioned in passing in MP, because of, uh, thematically crucial reasons whee crossover!)
my grandmother: Lady Georgiana Carteret, formerly Lady Georgiana Darcy, née Lady Georgiana Howard. She sprang from my ridiculously!inbred!Darcy headcanon, and both her husbands were her cousins: the first was her Darcy grandmother's nephew, Sir Alexander Darcy, while the second, the Hon. Frederick Carteret, was her mother's. Frederick, incidentally, was heir to a Lord Dalrymple, but predeceased him, so his and Lady Georgiana's son was the next Lord Dalrymple--the one mentioned in passing in Persuasion. (Why invent titles when I can raid Austen for them?)
my cousin Philadelphia--the married one: Philadelphia Grey, née the Hon. Philadelphia Stanley. Her mother was the younger daughter of Lady Georgiana and Mr Carteret (and thus half-sister to Darcy's father).
little Phylly: the Hon. Philadelphia Darcy, daughter of Darcy's canonical great-uncle-the-judge. This version of the great-uncle was sixteen years younger than Darcy's grandfather and married a much younger woman relatively late in life, producing five children over a 26-year period. Phylly would be twenty-three at this point, to the other Philadelphia's thirty-two.
reserved Cassandra: Cassandra, Lady Ponsonby, née the Hon. Cassandra Darcy, eldest child of the judge.
friendly Lady Auckland: married!Philadelphia's mother, born Philadelphia Carteret. She's the only particularly pleasant one of Darcy's host of aunts. (And I think the only one of any of these to have shown up in another story--in First Impressions, Mrs Gardiner mentions her [canonical!] previous visit to Pemberley, and says she was treated kindly by the hostess, Catherine's/Darcy's aunt. Later on, Mrs Reynolds tells her that the portrait she's looking at is of Lady Auckland, aka "Miss Philadelphia that was.")
bold, wilful Lavinia: another of the judge's daughters, two years younger than Phylly.
sweet-tempered Lord Darcy and his frail mother: Lord Darcy is the judge's one surviving son and youngest child, a boy of ten.
title: Ten Facts About Elizabeth Bennet
verse: Comforts and Consequences (i.e., canon-compliant, but also an internally consistent verse, hopefully)
(10) She's been her father's favourite since she began to talk.
She often suspects she’s been her mother’s least favourite from about the same time.
(9) She's fourteen or fifteen when she befriends Charlotte Lucas, then an impossibly sophisticated one and twenty, even though they've lived in the same neighbourhood for - well, forever.
Elizabeth didn't really know her until then. Charlotte is seven years older, she tells herself - those years are less a gap than a chasm before that age - but the truth is simpler.
Elizabeth doesn't know any of the tradesmen's daughters.
(8) Elizabeth doesn't worry about problems she can't do anything about.
If she did, her life would be nothing but worries.
(7) When it comes to dances, Elizabeth is drawn to reflections of herself: the vivacious, the easy, the witty, the charming.
When it comes to life, however, she draws others about her: Jane, Mr Bennet, Charlotte, Mrs Gardiner; Darcy. They're not her opposites by any stretch of the imagination, but they're different. They're not mere alternate selves, no part of that line of shadow-Elizabeths.
After all, she certainly does not possess her sister's serenity, her father's wry detachment, her friend's pragmatism, her aunt's reserve, her - lover's? - well, his cool temper.
They're something apart than herself, different, other: something that, in the end, she cannot help but love.
(6) When Bingley looks for Jane in her face, it's a sign of his lingering devotion.
When Elizabeth looks for Darcy in Lady Catherine and Miss Darcy, it's a sign of -
Nothing , she thinks at the time. He is her only significant connection to them; it's only natural to look for the familiar in strangers' faces.
Later, she wonders if it was a sign of something, after all. Not love. Just something.
(5) Elizabeth rather misses having a dog about - the adoration, the unstinting loyalty and sympathy. Darcy, who considers dogs a necessary evil (and dotes upon cats, of all wretched beasts) listens to her with a sort of bemused incredulity.
Several months later, they are happily ensconced at Pemberley, enjoying Christmas with Georgiana and the Gardiners. She gives him an illuminated manuscript. Darcy gives her a ruby necklace and a puppy.
(4) Almost as soon as the engagement is announced, Elizabeth begins to receive letters: letters from Cornwall, letters from Yorkshire, letters from London, Derbyshire, Gloucestershire, even Ireland.
A bare handful are from her own relations; Darcy identifies the rest of her would-be correspondents as “my uncle” or “my grandmother” or “my cousin Philadelphia -- the married one; little Phylly’s should not have arrived yet.” Elizabeth listens in some confusion and no little bemusement, but she is pleased -- for, beneath the differences in style, they all say one thing.
May your marriage be a happy one.
(3) Elizabeth doesn’t care about Darcy’s estrangement from his aunt, not at first. Lady Catherine is nothing to her, and Darcy seems content to manage the rest of his army of relations.
After a few months, however, the army begins to differentiate into individuals: reserved Cassandra, friendly Lady Auckland, bold, wilful Lavinia, sweet-tempered Lord Darcy and his frail mother. She sees them more often than she does her own family, negotiates between feuding factions and permits a privileged few to bring their problems to Darcy himself.
They matter: not simply because she likes most of them, nor even because they do, after all, have some effect on her own life. They matter because they are Darcy's family, just as Mary, Kitty, the Gardiners, Mr and Mrs Bennet, even the Wickhams, are hers.
Elizabeth slips some money into a letter to Lydia, and thinks about an arrogant, ungracious woman who, perhaps, loves her nephew.
(2) Elizabeth's first child is a girl, christened Elizabeth Philadelphia Jane for her mother and godmothers. There is another Elizabeth that year: the Wickhams’ firstborn, undoubtedly named to curry favour with her wealthy aunt.
The aunt in question may not be fooled, but she interests herself in the child nonetheless.
When Eliza Bingley comes along, eleven months later, Elizabeth dotes on her with a clear conscience.
(1) In their different ways, all the Darcys hate George Wickham.
Elizabeth hates him most of all.
Notes Self-indulgent rambles that are possibly longer than the story: It's largely irrelevant to the fic, but since this is really the opening story for this verse, stuff about the relatives mentioned in 3 & 4. (But seriously, you don't need to know.)
my uncle: the earl mentioned in passing in P&P, here Lord Ravenshaw of Ecclesford (and therefore also the lord mentioned in passing in MP, because of, uh, thematically crucial reasons whee crossover!)
my grandmother: Lady Georgiana Carteret, formerly Lady Georgiana Darcy, née Lady Georgiana Howard. She sprang from my ridiculously!inbred!Darcy headcanon, and both her husbands were her cousins: the first was her Darcy grandmother's nephew, Sir Alexander Darcy, while the second, the Hon. Frederick Carteret, was her mother's. Frederick, incidentally, was heir to a Lord Dalrymple, but predeceased him, so his and Lady Georgiana's son was the next Lord Dalrymple--the one mentioned in passing in Persuasion. (Why invent titles when I can raid Austen for them?)
my cousin Philadelphia--the married one: Philadelphia Grey, née the Hon. Philadelphia Stanley. Her mother was the younger daughter of Lady Georgiana and Mr Carteret (and thus half-sister to Darcy's father).
little Phylly: the Hon. Philadelphia Darcy, daughter of Darcy's canonical great-uncle-the-judge. This version of the great-uncle was sixteen years younger than Darcy's grandfather and married a much younger woman relatively late in life, producing five children over a 26-year period. Phylly would be twenty-three at this point, to the other Philadelphia's thirty-two.
reserved Cassandra: Cassandra, Lady Ponsonby, née the Hon. Cassandra Darcy, eldest child of the judge.
friendly Lady Auckland: married!Philadelphia's mother, born Philadelphia Carteret. She's the only particularly pleasant one of Darcy's host of aunts. (And I think the only one of any of these to have shown up in another story--in First Impressions, Mrs Gardiner mentions her [canonical!] previous visit to Pemberley, and says she was treated kindly by the hostess, Catherine's/Darcy's aunt. Later on, Mrs Reynolds tells her that the portrait she's looking at is of Lady Auckland, aka "Miss Philadelphia that was.")
bold, wilful Lavinia: another of the judge's daughters, two years younger than Phylly.
sweet-tempered Lord Darcy and his frail mother: Lord Darcy is the judge's one surviving son and youngest child, a boy of ten.