Epilogue

A tree is known by its fruit; a man by his deeds. A good deed is never lost; he who sows courtesy reaps friendship, and he who plants kindness gathers love. - Saint Basil

Late Autumn 1816:

He had gone through this before, and one really should have thought that the second time around, it would be less harrowing, and most certainly the third, but alas, it was not. Impatiently Fitzwilliam Darcy paced up and down the length of his library at Pemberley, once in a while sitting down only to jump up again a moment later to resume his pacing. Brutus had long since fallen asleep on his blanket in front of the fireplace. The poor lad was getting old, he noticed with yet another sigh. It was close to midnight and at this point, it had been several hours. Endless hours of agony for his beloved wife. If only he could take away her pain, he would not feel so very guilty, but just as Darcy had last time around, and the time before that, he did feel horrible for being the cause of Elizabeth's current discomfort.

'Daddy?' a little voice sounded from the door, 'Daddy, will Mama be alright? Is she very ill?'

He had not seen his eldest daughter step into the room, barefooted and in only her nightdress, rag doll under her arm staring at him with fearful eyes.

'Yes. - Yes, she'll be alright, my little darling,' her father answered hoping to sound as confident as his words. 'And anyway, should you not be in bed, Poppet?'

'I can't sleep,' she shrugged as matter of factly as was possible for a little girl five weeks short of her fourth birthday.

'Well, I can't sleep either,' he admitted, stepping towards the little girl to pick her off the cold floor.

Immediately she flung her arms around his neck and snuggled deep into his embrace.

'I love you, Daddy,' she whispered into his ear, making him smile despite his unrest.

'I love you, too, my little Annie.'

'But Daddy, if Mama isn't ill, why is Doctor Harris here?'

'Well, you see, he is here to give you a new brother or sister...'

'Don't be silly, Daddy, why would Doctor Harris bring me a brother or sister?'

Oh dear, sometimes it could prove tricky to deal with little Annie's quick-wittedness. In this instance, for example.

'And besides, everyone knows that babies are brought by the stork,' little Anne Darcy carried on in complete earnest, so much so that it was impossible for her father to suppress a smile.

'Indeed,' Darcy chuckled while resisting the temptation to pace again.

Instead, he sat down beside his daughter on the sofa in front of the slowly dying fireplace and seeing that she was shivering, he took off his coat and wrapped her neatly in it. Tiredly Brutus blinked at them, before snoozing off again.

'Can you tell me a story, please?'

'And what kind of story would you like to hear, Poppet?'

'A fairy tale!'

Well, he knew just the one that would delight her. It had a princess and a pauper, one could say and an evil hag, in short everything that would make it sufficiently interesting. - Oh, and most importantly it featured a hedgehog, or rather five of them.

'Once upon a time,' Darcy started, a smile spreading over his face as he remembered how he first had met his wife, 'there was a very grumpy young man who was not very happy with his life, and in order to search his happiness, he set out into the world to find it.'

'How grumpy was he, Daddy?'

'Very grumpy,' Darcy replied, making as grumpy a face as he could muster, until little Annie had to laugh. 'As grumpy as John normally is when he has to deal with Mr Elton.'

Mr Elton was their present neighbour and a good for nothing scoundrel strongly reminding him of none other than his old childhood friend George Wickham, who in turn was now a permanent resident of Australia due to his habit of swindling people out of their money. As for John, well, he would make an appearance in the story, too, just that Anne did not know that. Not yet anyway.

'That is very grumpy!' she agreed, wrinkling her nose, though still giggling.

'Yes, it is. And as said, this grumpy young man took off on an adventure, for surely somewhere there must be happiness for him. He took nothing but a small satchel and left his house, just like that, to where he knew not,' Darcy continued, caressing his daughter's soft brown curls, so much like her mother's.

'Did he walk for long?'

'Very long. And he almost thought he would never find what he was looking for, for as yet, nothing had happened. It was like going for a stroll in the park and surely that could not be the way to find happiness, could it?'

In agreement, she shook her head. No, it really would have been too simple. Darcy smiled.

'Well, as it was, what he did not know was, that it actually was that simple. But still, the young man grew timid and as he steered his steps up a steep hill, he suddenly came face to face with the most wondrous sight he had ever seen, for there on a stile, what did he see?'

Curious dark eyes glanced up at him questioningly.

'A fairy.'

'A real fairy?' Anne Darcy gasped in surprise, her eyes widening.

'But of course, Poppet. She was so breathtakingly beautiful, that at first he did not know what to say to her and she would not speak to him unless he approached her first. And since he felt quite lost, at last he greeted her kindly, bowed and asked for the way. She smiled, her eyes sparkled at him as she pointed him in the direction of the most magical place he had ever seen at this point a little down the valley. It was as if the place had appeared all of a sudden and for him, it was quite unexpected to see such beauty where he had least expected it, for the rest of his surroundings was quite bleak. With another smile and a raise of her eyebrow, she challenged him to keep her garden in order and then eventually, he would see what she would give him in return. At first, he was not all that certain whether he should, seeing that after all he was searching his happiness, and dawdling around did not seem sensible at all. But one look into her beautiful dark and sparkling eyes and he agreed before he even knew what he was doing.'

Darcy was quite surprised at his own skills at inventing a fairytale, but then again, over the last year or so, ever since Anne had grown old enough to like them, he had had ample of practice. What was also astonishing was how clearly he remembered that particular day when he had first met her mother. The shawl she had forgotten on the stile he still had, and whenever he needed to leave his family to attend business, he took it with him. Elizabeth thought it rather hilarious when he had eventually wanted to return it. - On their wedding day. But while at first, he had forgotten all about it, later on, he had not had the heart to give it back. He had simply needed something of hers when she was not around.

Looking down again, he realised that the little girl's eyes were closed, but just when he thought she had fallen asleep she curiously inquired: 'Did he fall in love with the fairy then, Daddy?'

'Yes, he did,' her father smiled, before casting another worried look at the clock on the mantelpiece.

Six hours had passed since the first sharp pains and still nothing. Now news.

'Yes, he did,' Darcy repeated before continuing. 'When they got to her garden, as lovely as it looked, the young man realised, that someone must have done something bad to it, for while it was still beautiful, no flowers were blooming, the leaves on the trees were looking very sorry for themselves and no birds were singing. It was a sorry sight for such a lovely place and immediately he went to work. The dried leaves had to go first, he thought, and with some approval, the fairy looked at him as he began plucking them from the branches. Almost immediately new leaves sprouted, as green and lush as any. Then he raked the flowerbeds, and the flowers peeked through the soil no sooner had he done so.'

'Was it magic?'

'Of course it was. It was a fairy garden, after all, Poppet. And as he worked on tirelessly, completely forgetting his original quest altogether, what do you think he found?'

'I don't know.'

'What he had been seeking for. Happiness. Among the flowers and trees, he found happiness. Eventually, the birds returned and sang the most beautiful songs, and one day, by mere chance, a little hedgehog peeked out from underneath a bush and began to trustingly follow him around.'

Annie started to giggle again, asking: 'Like Prickler always does with you, Daddy?'

'Yes, exactly. Just like Prickler does with me.'

It was perhaps silly of both Elizabeth and him, but neither had had the heart of leaving the little creature behind. Not when the little hedgehog seemed to miss him so much when he was not there. Now Prickler was roaming Pemberley's extensive shrubbery, or rather right now, his little frind was safely ensconced in a comfortable straw-filled box in the coal cellar where it was neither too warm nor too cold to hibernate. And as it was, the little tyke had had some surprise for them in store when after several days of absence he, or rather she had re-appeared with five little ones in tow. Mr Bennet had been right. Well, as pretty much always. And just as naturally he took great delight in that fact. But with all that, the name Prickler had stuck regardless, though Prickly would have perhaps suited her better.

'And what about the fairy?' his daughter demanded to know, suppressing a yawn, though with little success.

'She was very happy with him. So much so that it drew the attention of a little... - garden gnome, who grew quite jealous.'

It was difficult not to grin at making John a gnome, but it did fit quite well. Or it once did, for John, who had turned out to be the result of an indiscretion involving the daughter of a titled man and a mere footman, was now diligently learning how to run an estate. As Mr Lambert became older, eventually Darcy would need a new steward, and John was a smart lad and had outgrown his laziness. Besides, ever since he had come to terms with his situation he was no longer a sullen young man, but a pretty cheerful fellow to be around and on the verge of being married. Annie loved to play hide and seek with him, and he doted on her as if he were an older brother. His lessons, diligently continued by the five sisters after Darcy's leaving Longbourn had paid out. For all of his former work-fellows, actually.

'But why?'

'Because the young man was everything he was not. He was helpful and kind and liked what he was doing while the gnome, though with being a garden gnome he should have liked to look after a garden, did not. But he had to regardless. It was expected of him and that was what made him unhappy and jealous.'

'That's sad,' she yawned, rubbing her tired eyes.

They were decidedly drooping by now and yet, she was definitely too curious to fall asleep before he had finished his tale. He knew that determined look on her face very well, it was the same Elizabeth always sported when she had set her mind on something. Darn, another twenty minutes had passed and still...

'Yes. But it is unfortunately true that when we are permanently forced to do something we don't like, that it'll make us unhappy,' Darcy remarked softly, struggling to keep his anxiousness at bay.

'Daddy, Miss Dean always insists that I'd eat my vegetables even though I really don't like them!'

Despite his worries, Darcy had to chuckle once again before asking: 'Is there not one vegetable you like eating, Poppet?'

After all, there was something they could do about it, was here not?

'Peas and carrots aren't so very bad,' his daughter trailed off, yawning again. 'So, what happens next?'

For a moment Darcy was perplexed until he realised that she was speaking about the story. His story.

'The young man put in a real effort to befriend the gnome but at first to no avail. However, his attempts to do so didn't go unnoticed and every time she passed him, the fairy smiled in approval. Eventually, many weeks had passed and while he was completely happy and at peace, the man realised that it was time to return home. To go back to his friends and family. And he did. There were many things he had to take care of. Hesitantly the fairy let him go. But there was one thing he left behind, and that was his heart and she had known that. She had known that he would return eventually and he did as soon as he could.'

'Did they get married?'

Yes, it had been right to cut the story short, for her voice was now so very sleepy that it was barely discernible. No need to add an evil hag or a trusted friend or an unhappy sister he first had to make happy before he himself could be so to prolong the tale.

'Yes, they did. And they lived happily ever after, my little darling.'

Darcy kissed Annie's forehead as she snuggled up closer to him and Darcy leaned back in his seat willing his thoughts to stray towards his happy past and not the unsettling present. He still felt devilish delight thinking back about how he had put Caroline Bingley into place, smiled at the thought of Georgiana returning home from school with a beaming face and how she and Lizzy had first met, becoming friends almost instantly. Well, now his little sister was married herself since June last as were most of his sisters in law. Jane to none other than Bingley, naturally. The only exception was Lydia, who had decided that marrying was not so much to her taste. Well, she was still young. Barely twenty, she was allowed to be foolish still. Though whether she really was, Darcy was not al that certain, actually. Thinking about it, she was both pretty sensible and practical these days. - Another quarter of an hour gone...

No, he had to go upstairs and be by Elizabeth's side before he would go insane. There was no way he could bear this suspense any longer.

Carefully he picked up his sleeping daughter and carried her back upstairs into the nursery, shortly marvelling over both his little girls, sleeping so peacefully in their cots, little Lottie with her bum in the air as always and Annie curled up into a tight ball clutching her doll. As worried as Darcy was about their mother at present, he could not suppress a content smile at the sight before him as his heart swelled with love and pride for his little family. Gently he placed a kiss on both their heads before leaving them to their dreams. He had not descended the stairs half-way when he heard it. The petulant cry of a newborn baby who had just entered this world and did not quite know what to make of it yet. Hurrying his steps he all but barged into his wife's bedroom but none of the people within looked surprised to see him there.

'I wondered how long you would last this time around, Mr Darcy,' Dr Harris remarked dryly and his wife, despite her apparent exhaustion looked also quite amused, her dark eyes sparkling in the flickering candlelight.

The nurse's face he could not see, as she wrapped the screaming bundle into a blanket and by the time she turned around she had schooled it into a neutral enough expression, though the corners of her mouth still twitched slightly. Not that Darcy took much notice. His gaze flickered between his beaming wife he loved so much and the tiny babe that was presently put into his arms he had not even realised he had held out. With its hair still wet, the face red and swollen, and the little hands firmly clenched into fists it was still one of the most beautiful sights in the world, well beside its mother, that was. His Lizzy would always be the most beautiful sight for him as long as he lived.

'So, Mr Darcy, finally an heir,' the ageing doctor remarked chuckling as he packed his things away. 'Now you only need a spare.'

The End