It is a truth universally acknowledged that a married woman in possession of the good fortune to marry for love, must be in want of a marriage bed.
However, Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy could not feel so much want towards her own marriage bed. Instead she felt an unnamed dread when faced with the thought. She readied herself for bed during the first night of her marriage to Mr. Darcy. It had been an unusual courtship to say the least, but in the end everything had worked out as it should, and she was married to the only man who could truly make her happy. As she combed through her hair, trying to tamp down her nervousness and not think about what was about to happen, she instead turned her thoughts to her most beloved sister who had recently married her own Mr. Bingley. However, these thoughts only led her inexorably towards what was about to happen. She had never even had the pleasure of calling her husband by his first name, much less seeing him in any state of undress. She blushed furiously at the thought and looked quickly down to make sure her dressing gown was securely fastened.
It was a light cotton dressing gown which tied up the front, only to fall open around her waist, exposing the bottom of her long white sleeping gown. Still, even covered from throat to ankle she felt dreadfully exposed and nervous. What would he think of her? What would he do to her? Would it hurt? Would she disappoint him? She fought back the tears that suddenly threatened to fall and turned her attention back to her hair. Plaiting it neatly she realized she resignedly blew out her candle and hurried to the bed.
She pulled back the blankets and, shrugging free from her dressing gown, slipped between the crisp sheets. Her heart was pounding madly, and she was feeling slightly lightheaded. Hearing the door creak open, she nesteld down into the blankets, hoping to hide herself from her new husband, knowing it was useless. He stepped slowly into the room and from his footsteps (her own eyes were screwed shut of course) she heard him approach the bed. It dipped below his weight, and she felt a hand on her hair.
"Elizabeth. My dearest, lovliest Elizabeth."
Opening her eyes a little she looked up at Mr. Darcy.
"Fitzwilliam," she whispered.
His smile cracked wide open. She answered with her own, nerves suddenly leaving her. Screwing up her courage she leaned towards him slightly. His eyes widened as she blew out his candle, leaving the two young lovers in their own sweet darkness.
Authors Notes: This is just a silly piece that I wrote after the first line popped into my head one day. I pilfered one of these lines from the movie (guess which one?).
This is one of my favorite books of all time, I think I've read it over 20 times so I hope that Ms. Austen isn't rolling around in her grave after posting it. Heh.
Anyways, I hope you enjoy! No disclaimers on this one, thanks to it being in the public sector. Booya!