Chapter Text
The sun cut across Elizabeth’s face, forcing her to turn over in the bed to try to avoid its unforgiving gaze. I never sleep so late the sun reaches my bed. Elizabeth sat up grudgingly, a sense of dread filled her. And she leaned against the headboard. Sir Cat was still swathed in his blankets and pillows next to the bed. He was a bit too heavy to pull up onto the bed last night. He blinked up at her, as if he too was just waking up.
Elizabeth slipped out of bed and knelt on the floor, stroking Sir Cat’s back. “Did you at least sleep well, Sir Cat?”
He arched his back into her touch and then immediately hissed. Elizabeth did not even try to stop the smile that crept across her face. “Now that is your fault. I was simply trying to pet you.”
Sir Cat huffed at Elizabeth, making her smile all the more. “Shall I help you relocate to the workroom. I can get us our breakfast, and perhaps we can figure out if there is anything to be done about my dream man. I mean he is a dream man,” Elizabeth started pulling the mountain of pillows and blankets back to the workroom, “so he might not be real at all. I am not really sure why I feel like he is, except I am never this troubled over dreams. It feels significant, and I do not want to ignore it. Plus, you know I am a witch, so it might have something to do with the elusive Only One. But why do I dream of him being hurt? Is someone else hurting him? Is it the separation that is hurting him? Or am I just being silly, and it does not matter at all.” She sat back onto her heels, looking at Sir Cat who looked back at her just as intently. “Is it significant, Sir Cat?”
She patted his head and pushed up, returning to her room to freshen up and put on a proper dress for the day. As she went through her ablutions, she admitted to herself that she there was something about her dream man that she deeply wanted to be real. She wanted to be able to save him because he had come to mean something to her. In so short a time too – it scared her a little how powerful her feelings were. He is so quiet and gentle. The way he looks into my eyes as if he already understands me. She shrugged as she ran a brush through her hair. If he is real, he is suffering immensely, which is not right. I want to stop that. I need to stop that. But if he is real that means he is in all likelihood cursed. In the dream, I remember I could not ask him any of the really useful questions I wanted to, they slipped right from my mind. Classic hallmark of a curse.
She finished tying off the ribbon at the back of her dress, when she remembered, Careful Janet’s grimoire might have something useful. She was obsessed with curses, giving them and breaking them. She rushed through settling her hair into some semblance of order and then hurried back into the workroom. Sir Cat’s eyes raised to her balefully. She set him up with his breakfast so that she could search through her books for Ah! Here it is. Not so hard to find.
Elizabeth curled up in her chair and spent the entire morning meticulously reading Careful Janet’s grimoire. She had not found anything useful by lunch and since she had skipped breakfast, she forced herself to take a break and eat a sandwich she made for herself. She ate on the floor, next to Sir Cat so she could put him delicately. She then took a slow walk through her front garden, letting her mind rest for a little while, but then she could not wait any longer and continued to go through the book, and just as Elizabeth was giving up hope that there would be anything useful in Careful Janet’s book, she found something.
This might work. This might work! Elizabeth quickly gathered up all the ingredients she would need. It would be a potion that would take a while to prepare, and then I will need to use it almost immediately upon preparation. But how can I get it to him if he is in the dreamworld? Careful Janet says that the person should be there to promptly receive the potion, but would I give it to myself? Am I the vessel carrying him or is it someone or something else?
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Sir Cat watched his Elizabeth spend all morning researching. She would pet him whenever she passed, even spending all lunch with him, and had given him something with his breakfast that had lessened the pain, so he happily watched her work. What is she working to find?
All of the sudden, Elizabeth had perked up and seemed quite pleased. She was pulling different ingredients off the shelf and rushed down to the cellar a few times. However, just as she seemed about to start her work, a man came up the garden path and knocked on her doorframe.
“Sorry to bother you, Witch Bennet, but the magistrate asked if you would not mind coming to give your statement on what happened yesterday?”
Elizabeth looked a little flustered but nodded. She grabbed her hat and cloak and was out the door, leaving Sir Cat alone. With her spell book opened to what she was doing. I have never been good with waiting patiently to see what is to come.
Sir Cat pushed himself up, still feeling incredibly sore. He moved over to her chair and stared up at it. If he was on the chair, he ought to be able to read the spell easily enough, but how am I to get on the chair? Jumping seems like the worst idea right now. But needs must.
He psyched himself up and then leapt into the air. Pain shot through his side, and Sir Cat almost collapsed back down to where he had jumped. He had just enough presence of mind to push forward and land on the chair. He sat panting for what felt like hours and only then looked at the book. Written in a careful hand, Sir Cat read:
*A Spell to Give Back What Has Been Taken*
*Be it freedom, a sense of self, non-Euclidean geometrics, whatever has been lost will be restored. This spell has it all. This is my absolute favorite ‘all-purpose-healer’ spell when I am dealing with a curse I do not understand. Drawbacks: it is finicky. You must use this potion immediately upon pulling it off the last boil. You want the person to be doused in a mixture that feels like it will burn. Note – it will not burn them if they are cursed. In fact, I have been told it feels rather soothing. Immerse the cured thing or person entirely in the liquid mixture just after the point of boil and all will be restored*
The writing seemed to continue on to the next page, but Sir Cat did not want to figure out if he could turn a page with his paw without hurting the page. His mind was already reeling. Is Elizabeth trying to create something that will help me?
Just then the door of the workroom opened, and Elizabeth came in smiling. “All went well, Sir Cat. I gave my version of events, and they had me out of there speedily.” She devested herself of her hat and cloak and rolled up the sleeves to the dress she was wearing. She walked over to Sir Cat and rubbed his head, “Did you get tired of being on the ground? I hope you did not overextend yourself.” She carefully felt along his side, and Sir Cat thought she must be pleased because she simply patted him after. “I am going to work on this potion to test it out and see if works.” She smiled at him and set to work.
The making of the potion seemed to stretch out rather far, but then Sir Cat was watching the whole process rather carefully. He felt rather bothered as she kept referencing the strange dream man. Maybe that is who she is making it for, but how can she do it then? Does she not know I am – The word refused to be thought by Sir Cat, which made him anxious. She will not know to try it on me. I need to jump in right when she takes it off the heat.
That sounded like a terrible plan, but it was the only thing he could think of.
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Elizabeth carefully removed the potion from where it had reached the last point of boil. What a difficult, impossible potion. She took a towel and began rubbing off the sweat from her face when she saw Sir Cat streak across her table, take a flying leap, and land in the piping hot potion. “NO! You are going to hurt yourself!”
Yet, no sooner were the words out of Elizabeth’s mouth than she had to look away because suddenly there was a bright, blinding light. Elizabeth blinked furiously and her vision slowly returned to her. She rushed over to see if she could help Sir Cat, but there was no cat. Instead, in place of the cat, a man stood, his legs just inside the pot Elizabeth had used to make the potion. He looked up at her with those distinct, gentle eyes.
“You are the man from my dream.” Elizabeth whispered in quiet astonishment.
The man blushed prettily and nodded. He lifted his arms and seemed to realize in that moment that he was not wearing any clothing. Elizabeth realized too, trying not to look down too much, not wanting to abuse the poor man’s lack of clothing, but also more than a bit intrigued. She rushed over and took her cloak, handing it to him. “I am afraid I do not have any clothes that will fit you, Sir. This will have to do until I can search the chest upstairs in the attic.”
He nodded, throwing the cloak around himself. It was made for Elizabeth so even that bolt of cloth did not seem to be quiet enough, and he ended up awkwardly wrapping it around the front of his lower region, leaving his chest quite exposed.
Elizabeth looked at his chest, expecting herself to get distracted by the handsome man, but instead all she thought about were the times she watched him suffer and how he had been suffering like that for years before she even knew. How do I know that? But she did know that without a doubt inside of herself.
She could not bear that thought and rushed forward, pulling the man into a hug. He seemed to melt into her, pulling her with one of his arms, the other one still desperately holding the cloak.
“You looked like you were in so much pain. Are you still in pain? What happened to Sir Cat? Are you Sir Cat? My dreams did start right when Sir Cat first appeared. Oh my, I have got to stop calling you Sir Cat!” Elizabeth loosened her hug enough to pull away to look into his sweet eyes. As she searched his gaze, she could not stop herself from picking up her hand to place against his cheek. “Would you tell me your name?”
He smiled into her palm, putting a little pressure against her hand. “My name is Fitzwilliam Darcy. I do still have some lingering pain, but it does not matter. You saved me, Elizabeth. Thank you.”
He looked steadily at her, and Elizabeth felt like she could hardly breathe.
“I was Sir Cat, as you called him, although I did not always remember it.” The man’s eyes crinkled up at the corners when he smiled, and his cheeks dimpled up. Elizabeth felt like she wanted to carefully kiss each one. “When I was a cat, I found it quite difficult to think like a human, and as each year passed, I seemed to lose more of myself. But now, it comes together, as if through a veil. If I am remembering correctly, when I was a little boy another little boy named George – I cannot remember anything else except we would often play together – brought me with him to a secret meeting. He thought it was a big joke, but I did not understand what was happening. I ended up overhearing something I was not meant to. A plan of some sort to be brought about by two warlocks.” Elizabeth gasped, warlocks were not as well respected or trusted as witches. They had a real tendency to twist magic to their own purposes rather than using it to help others. Darcy continued, “They found me but did not feel right about killing me because I was so young. Instead, they turned me into a cat.” He lifted his shoulders uncertainly. “I do not have the clearest memory since I was a boy.” He looked off into the distance, as if trying to bend his memory to a time long ago. “I do know I grew up at Pemberley.”
“Pemberley? As in the big manor house that is near Lambton?”
The man blushed in front of her and nodded. “I do not know what happened to my family or if they will even remember me. It must have been quite a long time.” His shoulders dropped, which Elizabeth found she could not stand.
“Of course, we will set out on a journey to find out. I happen to have family from Lambton who introduced me to the village witch there. She is a good woman, and we can go see what happened to your family easily enough.”
“Really?”
Elizabeth looked back into his eyes, “Of course, Fitzwilliam. You deserve to see them, and I daresay they have missed you dreadfully over the years.”
He smiled his sweet shy smile that made Elizabeth want to melt into his arms, but she shook her head. Suddenly the first part of what he said came back to her. Poor man – just sitting here in pain and not expecting it to be relived. She squeezed his hand quickly, “You need to take a potion for the pain. I have just what you need, besides you have been a cat for years, I bet you would like some real human food instead of the chopped up flavorless meat I have been feeding you!”
Darcy laughed and allowed himself to be directed into a chair. Elizabeth could not stop touching him, to assure herself that he was real and because there was something zipping along her skin that seemed to yearn for contact with him. Just as she was pulling away, Fitzwilliam caught her hand and pulled her close again.
“I can never thank you enough, my Elizabeth. But I would like to try. Tell me what you need or want, and I will get it for you.”
Elizabeth swayed her heart thrilling at him calling her *his*, which caused her to nearly fall into his lap, “I did not realize how lonely I was until Sir Cat came along. You have been my familiar now for some time, and I do not know what I can do without one. You were such a good one, maybe I need to claim you as mine even though you are not truly a cat.”
“I am still yours, Elizabeth. I never thought I was not. I will stay with you and be yours.” He stopped talking and seemed to think for a space, “I do not think I could stand being separated from you.” He lifted his hand to rub it as his chest, almost absently. “No. I need to stay with you.”
“But your family might want you . . .”
Darcy nodded seriously, “They might, but they will want to honor the person who freed me even more. The truth is I can hardly remember my family. I was so young when I was changed, and the memories have faded over the years.” His voice got smaller, and Elizabeth hated to see him in even more pain.
“We will figure it out together, Fitzwilliam. Not to worry!”
He smiled again and pulled her all the way down into his lap. The intent in his eyes was clear, and Elizabeth smiled happily winding her arms around his neck. She reached up to meet his lips, kissing him passionately.
She broke away when she needed to breathe again. “Jane is going to love this. A practically naked man in my house.”
“I can sleep in the shed in the back if it makes you more comfortable.” Darcy panted out, the kiss proving to be more powerful than he expected.
“Like hell you will.” Elizabeth said, pulling him in for some more intense kisses. “Jane really will love this. And you are not going to sleep in the shed or on the floor or anywhere but my bed.”
Darcy blushed furiously but did not seem to disagree with the sentiment, and they continued to kiss furiously until Darcy’s groans of pain gave him away. Elizabeth happily fetched him the pain shells. He told her about his time as a cat as she worked on their dinner, which she ended up eating while sitting on Darcy’s lap. They both found that they did not want much space in between them. Something was compelling them to maintain almost constant skin contact. But neither found it strange or something to concern themselves about.
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Their lives together began to unfold beautifully. Elizabeth was happy to introduce him to Jane, who loved him immediately. To both of their joys, Jane’s husband Charles Bingley got along very well with Elizabeth’s Fitzwilliam. They spent many evenings together as friends, and when they started having children, the cousins were as close as siblings. Both Elizabeth and Jane were blessed with four children each, who were much loved.
Elizabeth was able to help Fitzwilliam find the courage to reach out to his family. He remembered that his mother had died giving birth to a younger sister, but he hoped he could be reunited with the rest of his family. Sadly, his father, who he remembered fondly had passed, but he was reunited with his beloved sister. She was quite young when he had been changed, but apparently, he had spent the majority of his life as a cat with Georgiana. She could hardly believe the story when it came out but was deeply touched. Her cat, who had seemed to be unusually intelligent, even helped her avoid a mistaken elopement by chasing off the uncouth man. This was actually what made Darcy lose his sister because he was busy making sure the man (who Georgiana revealed to be George Wickham, which Elizabeth and Darcy could hardly believe) could not follow her, and so he found himself in a strange part of England he had not been in before. Consequently, he found Elizabeth. Now that he could think for himself as a man, Darcy realized that when he was a cat, he had a very difficult time remembering people and the past. It seemed to sift out of his mind quickly. It gave him chills to think of it, but Elizabeth was always there to comfort him and remind him that he was safe now.
Georgiana had tried to convince her brother to come back and become the master of Pemberley, and Elizabeth promised that she would be happy to go as well. But Darcy found that all the years spent as a cat lost him too much time. He had no proper schooling, although he enjoyed reading and trained himself quite well when he was a human again, and he did not feel qualified to run an estate. He was much happier with a quieter life, supporting the important work his wife did. Georgiana accepted this with the caveat that they very much remain in each other’s lives, which Darcy was only too happy to agree to.
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And so, a new story began about witches and their Only Ones. It was often said in Meryton that their village witch had so much power that she turned her beloved familiar into the perfect human companion. They added to the lore of the Only One that witches must find them first in animal form and then somehow make them into humans. The story spread without checking to see if it were accurate, and so the confused exploration into a witch and their Only One simply continued to grow.
The story seemed to suit Meryton and the surrounding land because Witch Bennet had been desired by many and had merely never returned the interest. This made the men of the village feel better about having not been chosen.
“Of course, she would have to create the perfect man.” Many of the old maids would complain. Several declared that they too would wait for someone who looked as handsome as the witch’s husband, but they waited in vain. However, no one could quite explain why he was said to be a part of the Darcys. They were not quite sure how that worked if Witch Bennet created him out of her cat, but it was interesting to note that Witch Bennet and her husband would visit Derbyshire at least once a year and Miss Georgiana Darcy was a frequent visitor to their humble village.
No, Fitzwilliam was more accepted as Elizabeth’s husband than as a Darcy, and he integrated into their quiet village life well. He was said to be kind, if a bit shy, and seemed to open up most around animals who he would treat as well as any humans. In fact, his consciousness caused the entire village to change the way they handled animals as no one wanted the fearsome Witch’s husband to catch them beating their creatures. Plus, who would want someone so handsome disliking them? Consequently, the people of Meryton treated their animals better, which had the surprising result of treating each other better as well. For as long as Witch Bennet and her handsome husband lived in their area, the people found it easier to be better. Overall, the village grew in prosperity for those who treat their animals well find their own blessings.