Chapter Text
The sleepy village of Meryton counted itself rather lucky because they had a witch that was homegrown. Every village in England wanted a village witch, to help make potions for easy mending, healing, and the like. Meryton had despaired of ever finding a witch, so they were well pleased when one of their own – their beloved Elizabeth Bennet turned out to have the gift. Even better, she wanted to stay in Merton because her dear sister Jane married a man who had purchased the largest estate in their area. Yes, the people of Meryton were well contented with their witch.
However it must be said, sometimes, they would whisper. They wished she could discover the gift of love or have someone to keep her company. Witches were expected to be matched, and lone witches were always looked at a bit warily. They were a group who were fabled to have an Only One, and most people were taken with the mythos that surrounded the concept of witches. It was shrouded in mystery - was it connected to dreams? through the witch's familiar? It was unclear, but witches did seem to have an Only One. Always. And so the people of Meryton hoped for one for Elizabeth. They did not want their witch to be discontent because everyone knew a happy witch meant better potions, even though Elizabeth was counted an exceedingly skillful witch. They wanted her to be happy. So, they waited and hoped that someone would come along for her because all the men in the village that had tried to woo Elizabeth had been summarily dismissed. It must be because none of them were the Only One. Maybe someone would come fit for their witch.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The sun glowed pleasantly against the windowpane, filling Elizabeth’s large workroom with a warm orange ruddiness. She smiled as she steadily mixed the pain-relieving melted chocolate. I will be able to put this into molds in another two hours. Elizabeth was not really tired, but this was one of the more tedious things she did. It was also one of the more helpful and popular items. They seldom lasted more than two days in her storehouse, and, in fact, the current batch she was working on was already spoken for. Half of it would be taken to the Smiths. A family that was large and varied with many members needing rather constant pain relief. Or so they said. A dozen were to be taken to most other sundry households in Meryton.
It will be good to get this done. Elizabeth tried to reach over to rub at her shoulder that was cramping up from the constant stirring but could not quite reach it to give it a satisfying rub. It would also be good to get myself an assistant. They could stir this infernal thing for at least some of the time. She carefully switched the direction she was stirring, adding a hint of song as she continued. Well, alright this is a rather delicate creation. Perhaps it is just as well I do it alone. And yet, what is it Charlotte was telling me just last week – I need to get myself a familiar. Even if it is one like her dreadful Collins who is always getting in the way and yowling at itself. She said it brings her no small measure of comfort. Would I really care for that? How could someone find comfort in Collins?
Elizabeth shrugged to herself, getting to the point she could continue stirring but no longer needed to have her full attention on the mixture, Elizabeth leaned back in the chair and reached her favorite grimoire. It was one her great aunt had given her upon her setting out on her own, something all witches are expected to do. Typically, they have to travel a good bit until they find a village without a witch, but Mertyon had been without a witch about a decade before Elizabeth reached her majority, so she was able to settle in the village she grew up in, something that pleased Elizabeth because she wanted to stay near her family. Or at least near her Jane.
Now, if only I could write while I stirred this mixture, but Elizabeth knew she could not. She could read, but writing would take away too much concentration and make a less potent chocolate. She looked at the sun slipping behind some clouds that seemed to be there to stay. Oh blast. I need to light some candles before it is too dark to see.
Elizabeth continued stirring, leaving the grimoire in her lap, and spoke a quick spell to set the three candles in her vicinity on fire. They flared up rather larger than intended, but quickly settled to a cheerful glow. Elizabeth’s specialty was in tonics, tinctures, and potions. She could do spoken magic, but it always seemed to overplay itself. Ugh. I will never learn to control it properly. Elizabeth rolled her eyes at herself, still continuing to stir.
That morning she had pulled the door open to allow some air to freshen up her room, and now with the rain that seemed to be just about to drop down a nice coolness was enveloping the room. She settled back in her chair, still stirring, looking out the door and enjoying the strange cast the cloud cover seemed to be giving her front garden. So intent on looking at the different colors and considering how they looked just a few minutes earlier was Elizabeth that she almost missed a large, a very large, black cat come slinking into her house.
He came in through the open door, as if he had been expected and started nosing around Elizabeth’s work room. He was maybe three times the size of a typical housecat, and such a beautiful, rich black color that Elizabeth did not even react at first. She continued stirring and was rather languidly looking at the large creature as he inspected her workroom.
“And how do you find it, Sir Cat? Does the room meet with your high expectations?” she teasingly asked it. Hm, maybe this is why I need a familiar as I am so happy to quickly talk to a random animal. That cannot be normal, can it?
The cat paused when she spoke, but then simply lifted its tail high and continued looking around. At one point it jumped up on to the crowded worktable. It was much too large to carefully step over things, or perhaps it was not even trying to avoid knocking things down. Either way, once the cat had jumped down a good third of the things on the table were either knocked over or fell off.
Elizabeth sighed, “Sir Cat, do you think it is at all possible for you to not knock over my things?”
The cat turned, seeming to look Elizabeth right in her face, and then pushed over her glass of water from earlier.
Elizabeth huffed, but did not dare leave off her stirring, which allowed the cat free reign to walk around the room, disturbing what he liked and patently ignoring Elizabeth’s pleas for being careful. That little bugger is just lucky I cannot interrupt this stage of the mixing.
The sound of someone running up to the house caused Elizabeth to look away from the irritating black cat just in time to see her beloved sister Jane come rushing into the door.
She was panting in a most unladylike manner, something she would only do around Elizabeth, “Oh dear. It looks like it is about to rain, and I was already mostly here. Would you mind, Lizzy, if I had to stay because of the rain?”
“Of course not, Jane dear. I am glad you have stopped by. I have to keep stirring this mixture or it will be spoiled, and yet I find myself with this new companion,” Elizabeth gestured over to where the cat had found her reading blanket and was currently pushing it and pulling it to get it where the cat wanted before he turned three times, snuggling down into the soft cloth.
“Ooooo, Lizzy! I did not know you finally got a familiar!” Jane exclaimed, walking over to the cat. She leaned down careful to make it quite clear what she was going to do, and she softly rubbed the fur just behind his ear. The cat grumbled a bit, but that quickly turned into the sound of a deep, rumbling purr as Jane continued rubbing in just that right spot.
“Of course, you are able to make friends with him right away. If I am to make him my familiar, he will have to actually listen to me.”
Jane giggled lightly as the cat pushed his head more into her palm, “I always thought it did not quite work like that. Most familiar-witch partnerships are just that a partnership, right? And you would like a partner, would you not, Lizzy? I think of my Charles as a partner, and you know I am desperately happy with him.”
Elizabeth huffed. Jane stayed through the short bout of rain, helping clean up the things the cat had knocked over. She started a simple soup for Elizabeth that she could eat throughout the day and helped her set up the molds for when the chocolate mixture was done. However, Jane was very careful to not touch any of it. She had the unfortunate ability to deaden anything magical. This quality had actually proven extremely useful over the years for solving hexes, curses, and poisons, but Jane was always disgruntled she could only solve magical problems rather than play with it like Elizabeth was able to do.
“Alright, I better get back to Charles. He will miss me since the rain has stopped.” Jane leaned over and kissed Elizabeth’s cheek. “I will come by again tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Jane. As always you are an angel.”
Her tinkling laugh filled the room, even as she left it. Elizabeth carefully poured the chocolate mixture into the molding trays, sweeping off the excess into another bowl to be used for a slightly less potent pain tonic. She carefully carried them into her cellar, which was markedly cooler than upstairs and placed them around the room so they would set.
As Elizabeth came back up the cellar stairs, she heard a yowl of pain and then sudden tears. She rushed a bit to see what was happening in her workroom. There stood Anne, holding her finger, which had small beads of blood on it from some clear scratch marks.
“Sir Cat, did you scratch Miss Anne?” Elizabeth was shocked. He seemed like a capricious, arrogant creature, but she had not expected him to hurt a child. She knew her displeasure and anger were clear because the cat actually seemed to shrink into itself.
“It was my fault Madam Witch Madam.”
“You can just call me Miss Elizabeth, Miss Anne.” Elizabeth replied with a smile, “and I doubt you did anything that deserved getting scratched.”
“I . . . I pulled his tail while he was sleeping.”
“Anne!” Elizabeth turned to the child, shocked.
“I know. I know. I was not trying to hurt him, honest. I just heard that it was good luck to pull on the tail of a witch’s familiar.”
Elizabeth sighed, “If it is good luck you want, you know you can order some special potion from me that would be far more effective than some silly superstition. The poor cat.” Elizabeth felt fed up with both the child and the cat.
“What did you come in for, Miss Anne?”
“Mother sent me to see about the pain shells.”
“They will be done in, oh another two hours, come back then, and I will send them with you.”
Little Anne nodded and attempted a curtsy as she left.
Elizabeth turned to look at the cat, “If you intend to be my familiar you cannot go around scratching children, even if they pulled your tail. Do you understand?” The cat pretended to ignore her, but she got the sense he understood.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The rest of the day had passed quickly. Little Anne had spread it around that the pain shells would be ready, so almost everyone who had ordered some came by to pick them up. Elizabeth managed to keep back half a dozen for emergency use to be given when people came by in great need, but every bit of what she had worked on all day were picked up. It was good to be wanted and needed, but it left Elizabeth exhausted at the end of the day. She set up her wards and protections and then went upstairs.
The cat had followed her, as if it was his due, which if he was going to be her familiar it was. She allowed him to jump on her bed, and he promptly curled up on her favorite pillow. Huffing, Elizabeth had pushed him over until he took the hint and took over her second favorite pillow instead.
Elizabeth had no trouble falling asleep, having worked herself rather over much throughout the day, but her dreams were almost immediately unsettling. It was abstract, as dreams so often are, without any real sense of time, place, or physical reality, but it nevertheless felt desperately real. A strange man, she could not quite glimpse, was tied up. Not with ropes or anything she could pull of him. It was more like his soul had been tied up. And the binding was causing him great pain. He was not crying out, but his soul seemed to be begging for help.
“I cannot figure out how to get to you.” She called to him.
He jerked his head up, as if surprised to find anyone else there. When he lifted his head, Elizabeth felt her breath catch. He was the most handsome man Elizabeth had ever seen. He had fire in his deep brown eyes, and a strong jawline. She wanted to soothe away the wrinkles of distress that covered most of his face. In every line she could see pain printed, and she hated that.
I take pain away. That is one of the main things I do. Let me help him. She found herself begging the dreamworld, but no one responded. Instead, the distance between them seemed to grow. She tried to walk towards him but could never get closer.
“I am going to help you,” she tried saying to him. That made him lower his head, in shame or because he did not believe her, she could not tell.
Then suddenly she was awake. The cat had jumped on her arm. “Oof, Sir Cat, you are too heavy to do that.” Elizabeth grumbled turning on her side and staring into the dark room. She knew she needed to get back to sleep but every time she closed her eyes, all she could see were those desperate eyes that seemed to be full of pain.