A/N: Hello! This is my first jane austen fic, and I wrote this on a whim after reading a lot of persuasion fics. There is so much hidden emotion in persuasion, and I wanted to write a fic based on those hidden emotions. I might be crossposting this on ao3 under same ID. This is unbeta'd and will be my winter project. I hope this will be a few parts, at least four, but hopefully more. I hope you enjoy!

Anne was glad to be out of the house and away from prying eyes as she strived to right herself. He had been so very close to her, had helped her when Walter hadn't listened to her or his cousin Charles. He had touched her, and it had nearly knocked the breath from her. She was so sure that he would ignore her, that he would leave the room as soon as Walter had begun to get restless, but he hadn't.

She couldn't quite get a hold on her emotions. Until that moment, she was sure she could brave and watch as Captain Wentworth pursued Louisa, but she soon realized that she couldn't. His proximity and touch felt branded onto her, and she could do little else but feel the loss of him in her life keenly.

She had whispered her thanks, as she left the room, and she had felt eyes on her as she departed, but she couldn't stay. She went to get her bonnet and pelisse and quickly exited the house without a word to anyone. It was bad of her, but she couldn't face any of them again, not without composing herself, which she found she could not.

As she walked down the lane, she could feel all the emotions she had wished to suppress surface. He had been kind to help her, and she knew she did not deserve such kindness. She knew he had no love left for her, that the kindness was one of a woman in distress and he would have helped any woman who would need it, she being no exception.

But she ached for the reason to be something else. That maybe, he had forgiven her and was being kind for that reason. She dared not hope that he still love her, but forgiveness was an easy hope to have. Once, there had been a time when they knew each other so well, but now she felt she barely knew what to expect with him. He had said she was so altered that he would not know her, but what she found was a man she had known always known, just older and wizened in his experience. The main difference between the man who had proposed to her eight and a half years ago and the man she knew now, was his cold indifference to her. And she had no one to blame but herself.

She had loved none but him, had had a small hope that his love for her was strong enough for him to return when his condition had changed, but that had never happened. Now, he saw her as no one but the woman who had broken his heart, so altered that he did not know her.

She was mortified and ashamed, but more than that, she ached so keenly for things to be different. She did not think herself so altered, if only she were not as beautiful as she had been when she had known Captain Wentworth before. Knowing he held nothing for her but a reminder of heartbreak, hurt more than she could have imagined. His cold politeness, his determination to not know her again, and his pursuing Louisa right before her, was enough to make any woman break, but for Anne it was a symbol of so much more. It meant that he was completely gone to her, and any hope she had harbored that none of that be the case, had vanished.

She found herself unable to do little else but cry as she walked. She had no conception of how much time had passed, so forgotten in her sorrows, that she didn't hear the sound of a horse coming up behind her until the horse and its rider were beside her. She looked up to find that it was Captain Wentworth, and she quickly covered her face to try and dry the tears from her face, but it was too late. She knew he had seen everything. She could not bear to look at him, the tears still stinging her eyes as she tried to keep them at bay.

Anne waited to hear his horse resume its trot, but when there was nothing for many moments, she made herself look up, hoping against hope that his arrival had been a figment of her traitorous heart. Instead, she found that he was no longer on his horse and was standing a mere foot away from her, a look of uncertainty playing on his features.

"Miss Elliot-" he began, but stopped when she closed her eyes and winced. No, this was no figment, a figment would torture her further by having him call her Anne again. "Miss Elliot," he began again, "Are you alright? Did your nephew hurt you?"

"No, Captain," Anne replied, her voice hoarse. She cleared it as she continued, "I am not physically hurt." She opened her eyes in time to see his expression flicker with a frown before his expression politeness returned.

"You are almost to Kellynch," he said after a moment of silence between them. Anne looked around them with surprise, having not realized how long she had walked. Mary would not be happy when she returned.

"I had not noticed," she said, low and even more ashamed. She had had no destination in mind when she had made her way out of Uppercross Cottage, but it was quite foolish of her to unconsciously go to Kellynch where she was sure to meet Captain Wentworth. "I am sorry."

She said this with a passion, but she could do nothing about it. She watched as he looked back in surprise, like he had not expected her to be this open with him. There was a time when she hadn't hidden her emotions from him, where he knew exactly what she was feeling because of her openness. How she longed for it to be that easy again.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Miss Elliot." He responded politely.

Maybe it was the continued politeness that he showed her, or maybe it was the depth of emotions she was feeling that made her say, "There are a great many things I have to apologize for." She turned her head away before she could see his reaction. "I am keeping you. Please give my best to Admiral Croft and Mrs. Croft. Good day." Her voice cracked and she turned away to go back the way she had come.

He made no move to stop her and she dared not look behind to see if he'd resumed his ride back to Kellynch. She felt just as wretched as when she had left the Cottage, and it took a great deal of strength to move forward. When she could no longer move forward, she stumbled to the trees along the lane and leaned against one.

He knew. He knew and somehow that felt so much worse than him not knowing. She had been so careful not to let anyone know how much hurt she felt, but especially him. She could put up a brave front from then on, but it would be of no use. He would now think of her as weak willed as ever, and endeavor to avoid her even more. She had thought nothing could hurt more than giving him up all those years ago, but this, this hurt so much worse. She wasn't as strong as she had thought, she could no longer watch him court Louisa, her heart could no longer take it. She knew that he wasn't in love, she had seen him in love before with her, but she couldn't bear to see him do so.

She tried again to compose herself, to calm the sobs that had overtaken her. She would leave Uppercross Cottage as soon as she could, would make sure Mary and little Charles were well but would stay as far away from Captain Wentworth as she could.

Suddenly, Anne felt how tired she really was. She had left the Cottage without eating any food and felt famished and fatigued. It must be well after noon, with the sun low on the horizon. She couldn't find the energy to move away from her spot against the tree, but she knew that she must soon, she didn't want to worry Mary or Charles enough to send anyone looking for her.

The next thing that Anne knew, was that someone was calling out her name. She opened her eyes slowly, feeling like the wind had been knocked from her. Her eyes met those of the Captains, his face lined with concern. She closed her eyes tight, muttering how fate was fickle and cruel thing.

"Anne," he called again, and this time she startled.

It was dark, just before dusk, and Captain Wentworth held a lantern between them. She realized slowly that she was on the ground, her body stiff and cold. But more than that, as she tried to sit up, the sudden movement caused a pressure to build swiftly in her head. She fell back down, gasping.

"I'm sorry," she whispered covering her face with both hands, trying to cover the tears the began to fall. "I- I must have fainted."

Captain Wentworth said nothing for many moments, the silence deafening as she tried to get her bearings. It was of no use; she couldn't move properly without feeling lightheaded and ill. After another few moments, it seemed he had made a decision as he moved forward and pulled her up into his arms. She wanted to cry out in protest, but it was too late. She soon found out that he had brought the Admiral's gig, and she was put in the front, beside him.

One moment slipped into the next, but Anne could not stay at attention. Her stomach ached from not eating since the day before, her head pounding something fierce, and she felt so utterly ashamed of even putting herself in this situation. The weight of it all made Anne fold in on herself, but the gig gave her little room to herself. Her arm brushed against his with the movement of the gig and she could think of nothing else but how much he hated being the one to find her.

The ride was thankfully short, Kellynch being a shorter distance that she had thought. It meant she didn't walk far back to the Cottage than where he had happened upon her earlier.

"Oh, Miss Elliot," Mrs. Croft exclaimed as they stopped in front of Kellynch Hall. Anne tried to give her a reassuring smile, but she's sure that it looked more like grimace from the concerned look that Mrs. Croft gave her.

"She is very weak and cold, Sophia," Captain Wentworth said as he came around the gig.

"Oh, you poor thing," Mrs. Croft exclaimed. Captain Wentworth tried to pick her up again, but Anne shook her head.

"I can do it," she whispered, trying to seem stronger than she felt. She didn't catch the frown he gave her, but she did take the hand that he offered her. It wasn't the right thing to do, because as soon as she stood up to step down, the lightheadedness and dizziness struck her again. Before she could sit back down, Captain Wentworth had pulled her into his arms and into the house in mere moments.

Mrs. Croft followed behind them, calling for the servants to set up a guest room for Anne and for another to send word to Charles and Mary to let them know that Anne had been found. Anne couldn't quite listen, too attuned to how Captain Wentworth was holding her. She was taken into the sitting room and placed gently onto the sofa there.

"I'm sorry," she said again, trying and failing to sit upright. A wave of nausea hit her, adding onto the dizziness that she couldn't seem to stop. She closed her eyes against the spinning room, lit up with candles. She realized belatedly that she was shivering, the cold having already settled in her chest. The only thing she could do was feel wretched for being such an inconvenience and wrap her arms around herself.

She couldn't pay attention to the movements around her, dizzy and cold as she was, but she soon felt a pair of hands guide a blanket around her. She said a soft thank you to whoever it was, and let the warmth finally seep in.

When she could finally focus on something other than her own sufferings, she began to hear the voices in the background.

"…she must stay here the night."

"Her things are all are Uppercross Cottage."

"I have already sent a servant to the Cottage for her things. She is in not state to be moved."

"Fredrick, how did you find her?"

"She was not far from where I had happened her earlier in the day on my way home from Uppercross myself."

"But you've been home for hours! poor Miss Elliot."

Yes, poor Miss Elliot, indeed, Anne thought with much sadness. Anne squeezed her eyes tight, trying and failing to fight the rush of emotions she was feeling. She had not meant to be a burden on anyone, had only wanted some time to herself to feel everything she had been denying herself to feel. Instead, she had landed herself into this mess, and she couldn't get out of it in the state she had made herself in. If only she hadn't walked so far and on an empty stomach. If only she had been strong enough to ignore the overwhelming heartbreak and sadness that seemed to clutch at her. If only she had gone to Bath with her father instead of watching the man she loved treat her exactly as she deserved for breaking both of their hearts eight and a half years ago. It was her penitence, that she knew that, but she wasn't strong enough to face it.

There was finally quite when she pulled herself from her thoughts, only the crackle of fire from the fireplace and her own heavy breathing. She dared not open her eyes again, for fear of the dizziness she felt at the edge of her vision.

"Anne," Captain Wentworth called softly. Anne shuddered under the sound of him saying her name. She opened her eyes, struggling against the dizzy feeling that caught her breath. "You are to stay here tonight."

Anne gave a slight nod, finding his face. His face spun in front of her, but she still noticed how concerned he looked. She felt she should explain herself, "Thank you. I am very dizzy. I have not eaten since supper."

"Supper? Yesterday?"

She nodded, managing to swallow down the nausea the movement had caused.

"Good god, why?"

What could Anne say? That little Charles had been feeling too unwell that morning for her to really focus on herself? That Louisa and Henrietta had arrived before Anne had the chance to go to the kitchen herself for something to eat? She had left the Cottage after that, too quickly and her thoughts not even close to being on food. Instead, she said, "I hadn't the time."

Again, she was met with silence. She hoped he had left, maybe to talk to his sister, because she couldn't pretend to be okay. She laid back against the cushions, hoping that being horizontal would help fight the dizziness. She pulled the blanket around herself tighter and let the silent tears fall. She would not make a sound, would not dare alarm anyone any further. She had done more than enough of that today as it was.

"Miss Elliot?" Anne opened her eyes to see Betty, the kitchen maid, bring in a tray. "The Captain bade me to bring some broth and bread for you."

"Thank you, Betty," Anne said gratefully, wiping at her tears stained cheeks. Betty set the tray in front of Anne with a nod before departing as silently as she had arrived. Anne looked at the tray warily, her dizziness and nausea at bay as she laid still, and she feared any movement would cause both to return.

"Will you not eat something?" Captain Wentworth asked as he walked into the room.

"I am afraid to sit up," Anne replied, "My dizziness has only just seized."

"Can- May I help you sit up then?" He sounded unsure, like she was going to tell him no, but she couldn't, not when he sounded just as sincere.

"Please," she answered softly. What was he thinking, she thought? He was not unfeeling, she knew that, but he must think it an odious task to help her. He came to her side slowly, grasping at the hand she outstretched to him but also taking her shoulder gently and pushed her into an upright position. It felt altogether too much, but she suppressed the heartache as best she could. "Thank you, Captain."

"It is no trouble," he replied, stepping away from her.

She concentrated on taking little bit of bread with the broth, feeling self-conscious because of his eyes on her. She felt like an invalid that was trespassing too far on the Captain and the Crofts.

"I'm sorry for taking you away from your evening at Uppercross," Anne uttered, looking up to meet the Captain's eyes for a glance before turning to look back down at her soup.

"You have nothing to apologize for," he countered, repeating his earlier words with an edge to his voice. She could not meet his gaze again, feeling far too exposed as it were. "Was it me?"

Anne knew what he was asking, but she could not bring herself to answer him. A none answer would be answer enough, because as much as she wanted to lie, she knew it would be convincing to neither of them.

The next moment, Mrs. Croft came into the room with the Admiral. "Miss Elliot, how are you feeling?"

"Much better," Anne assured, giving them a halfhearted smile. "I thank you all for opening your home to me."

"Nonsense," the Admiral replied, "It is your home as well, Miss Elliot. We, ah, we did not know which room was your room previously, but we had one of the guest rooms made up for you to stay until you are well enough."

"You are too kind, Admiral. This is your home, please, any room will suffice." Anne said shakily, looking between them with thanks.

"We are glad you are looking better, Miss Elliot," Mrs. Croft said, looking at Anne with a kind smile. "When Charles Musgrove sent for Fredrick to help look for you, we were quite surprised."

"I had walked farther than I had meant. I had forgotten to eat this morning and had many things on my mind," Anne explained, looking down again at her food. IT was a poor excuse, but it was all she had.

"We are happy you are safe and sound, Miss Elliot, that is all," Admiral Croft said kindly. "We are also happy Fredrick found you so quickly."

Anne could not say the same, but she nodded in agreement, "I am most grateful to him for it."

"Well, we shall leave you to finish your meal," Mrs. Croft said, "A servant has been sent for your things and should be back any moment. Please do not hesitate to ask for anything, Miss Elliot."

Anne thanked them again, and just as quickly as they had arrived, the Crofts swept from the room. She expected Captain Wentworth to follow, but he did not. It puzzled her and made her even more worried. The door was left open, there was nothing improper happening, and yet she still could not help but feel as though he should not be there. Everything from their past and present suggested otherwise, and yet, there he sat, mere feet from her. She didn't know what to make of it.

She continued to eat, because there was little else for her to do. There was nothing she could say, nothing she could think to do that would result in anything good, so she let the silence stretch on.

When she could eat no more, the nausea settling into her stomach making her appetite disappear, she sat back against the sofa and closed her eyes. She tried to retrieve whatever courage she had left to ask for his help to the room, or to even ask him to ring for a servant to help her. It was silly, and illogical for her to be this way, but she could not help it. Every indication she had been given by him up until that afternoon had pointed to him being resolved to be indifferent and moving on with Louisa. It was worse that she was at his mercy, but she was given little choice.

"Why do you keep apologizing?"

The sudden question caused her to gasp, and when she looked up to confirm that he was speaking to her, she found his piercing gaze on her. She looked away, feeling her heart constrict painfully as she tried to find the right words to say. When she could not, she settled on a half-truth, "I feel it must be said."

She was met with silence and was glad for it. She continued on while she still had the mind to speak, "Can you please send for someone to help me to my room?"

"There is no need, I will help you," Captain Wentworth replied, "Please, if you allow me."

She felt thrown, having not expected this from him, and accepted as there was no way to refuse. "Thank you."

She stood with his help and they proceeded to the staircase. She still felt off balance, but their slow movements were enough to put a pause on her ailments. His grip tightened when she swayed halfway up the staircase, and in an effort to keep her from swaying again, he put an arm against her back. It was too intimate, too much for her, but she did not allow herself to sway any more. She grounded herself as best she could as they ascended all the way.

She was more than thankful when her room was the first of the guest rooms, close enough where she would not need his further assistance. She turned to face him, looking into his face as she said, "Thank you, Captain, for your kindness and your help. I am most grateful."

"You are most welcome, Miss Elliot. I am at your service," he replied, his gaze intense. With one final squeeze of her hand, he bowed and made his way toward where Anne knew the family quarters were.

When he was out of sight, she let herself into the guest room and laid on the bed, her heart aching. She felt the tears fall again and was glad for the solitude she had been given. She could not make sense of all that had happened, but more than that, she refused to hope for a change in the Captain's behavior towards her. Hope was a cruel and fickle thing, she knew better this time than to fall back into such clutches.