Title: Welcome Home
Rating: PG-13 (T) – for minor references to sexual intercourse between a loving married couple, but content is overall clean.
Disclaimer: Though I write stories based on the novels and characters of Jane Austen, this work belongs to ME and no one else. Unless given express permission, no one besides myself has the right to distribute or profit from my intellectual property. All rights reserved.
Setting: Regency
Summary: Christmas fic. Darcy returns home to Pemberley to the loving arms of a wife he doesn't remember having...Novella-length. Sweet and clean.
Happy Holidays to all!
For reference, here's a list of all the Christmas media (movie, song, book, ballet, etc) puns/jokes scattered throughout this work – in case you didn't spot them all. Separated by chapter and mostly in order of introduction. Some references repeat in multiple chapters, but will only be listed in the first in which they appear. It might shock you to know this, but I rather love Christmas movies (etc) XD
INDEX OF REFERENCES:
Chapter One:
"Welcome Home," title – a reference to not only the overall theme of this fic, namely hearth and home and the loving welcome of family, but also the Christmas song "I'll Be Home for Christmas" as sung by Bing Crosby in 1943, written by Kim Gannon and Walter Kent.
Marley, the coachman – reference to Jacob Marley, a character from Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol. (1843)
Jacobs, groom – similarly to the first, also a nod to Jacob Marley from Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol. I split the poor man in two (though he probably deserved it, stingy old bastard). (1843)
Griswold, the butler at Pemberley – reference to the family from the film Christmas Vacation, one of my personal favorites, starring Chevy Chase (1986).
Holly, the Bingleys' daughter – reference to Holly Gennaro/McClane from the Die Hard franchise. (1988) Weirdly, I couldn't fit the word "Nakatomi" in here anywhere...
McCallister, the surgeon – reference to Kevin McCallister from the Home Alone franchise. Please note that he amused Elizabeth by frightening some thieves away from his clinic. (1990)
"Apologies for the delay, Mrs Darcy. I was at the Cratchit farm..."– another reference to Dickens' A Christmas Carol, but this time in the form of Tiny Tim. (1843)
Clara and Marie, the maids – reference to the ballet The Nutcracker, specifically the female protagonist who is alternately known by both names. (1892)
Darcy felt his heart swell as if it had grown three sizes – He's a mean one, Mr Darcy...no, seriously though, this is a reference to How the Grinch Stole Christmas by Dr Seuss. Specifically, the climax of the story during which the titular Grinch renounces his selfishness and his heart grows three sizes. (book 1957; animated film 1966)
Bedford Hall, the seat of the Earl of _ – reference to the town of Bedford in It's a Wonderful Life, which at least somewhat inspired the alternate reality theme of this story. (1947)
McClane Manor, the Bingleys' estate – come on, you know that Holly had to live at McClane Manor! Reference to the Die Hard franchise. (1988)
Mrs Clausen, the midwife – I think this one is pretty obvious, but a reference to Mrs Claus, wife of Santa. Can't ascribe a specific date to this famous merry couple, though.
Frightful weather...delightful fire...Yes, indeed, there was no place to go; let it snow! – reference to one of my favorite Christmas songs "Let it Snow" by Sammy Cahn and Jule Styne (1945). It's sweet, romantic and the lyrics are simple to remember.
Elizabeth's laugh – at two different points, I reference Christmas songs in regards to Elizabeth's laugh. "Silver Bells" composed by Jay Livingston and Ray Evans (1950) and "Jingle Bells" composed by James Lord Pierpont (1857). This is repeated imagery throughout.
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Chapter Two:
Cinnamon and evergreens – Elizabeth's scent is, of course, reminiscent of the holidays themselves. She's meant to be a symbol of hearth and home to Darcy, something that's celebrated during Christmastide.
Bailey, Darcy's valet – a reference to the character George Bailey, the protagonist from It's a Wonderful Life (1947)
"God rest you, merry gentlemen/Let nothing you dismay...Which long time had gone astray/Which brings tidings of comfort and joy" – a reference to the classic English Christmas carol "God rest you, Merry Gentlemen," the earliest rendition of which was recorded in 1760. I initially included this, in part, because Maria Lucas sings it in the 1995 BBC Pride and Prejudice miniseries (I'm sure you know the one). However, as I was looking at the lyrics, I also realized that, though Darcy ignores them, they could be interpreted as a higher power's way of comforting him, hinting that all might not be lost and encouraging him to go on. Happy accident.
Jack Frost nipping at each and every nose – a reference to "The Christmas Song" written by Robert Wells and Mel Tome (1945) and most famously recorded by Nat King Cole in 1945. My personal favorite rendition is sung by Michael Buble.
Clarence, Darcy House butler – yet another reference to It's a Wonderful Life (1947), this time related to the angel Clarence who takes George Bailey on his "what if I had never been born" journey.
"...Of course, it is colder than preferable – the weather outside has been positively frightful! Perhaps cards by a delightful fire would be better." – I know I already used this one, but another reference to "Let it Snow" by Sammy Cahn and Jule Styne (1945). I told you it was a favorite.
"Every time a bell rang..." – yet another reference to It's a Wonderful Life (1947), this time in regards to when George Bailey's young daughter reminds him "Every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings."
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Chapter Three:
Kringle, Rosings' butler – one of the more obvious references to Kris Kringle, aka Father Christmas, aka Santa Claus. Normally only criminals have so many aliases, lolz. Then again, he is a master of breaking and entering...at least he leaves stuff behind rather than taking things with him, amirite?
Jack-of-all-trades – this "skeletally thin man dressed in all black" is a reference to Jack Skellington of A Nightmare Before Christmas (1993), a fun, spooky and surprisingly jolly Tim Burton movie.
Sally, the maid – naturally, the maid in a patchwork dress would have to be named "Sally," Jack Skellington's love interest in A Nightmare Before Christmas (1993).
Ebeneezer, Darcy's stallion – reference to the character Ebeneezer Scrooge from Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol (1843).
"Love, actually..." – reference to the British rom-com Christmas movie Love Actually (2003), which incidentally features Mr Darcy 1995 Colin Firth and Elizabeth Bennet 2005 Kiera Knightley, each as one of the many characters whose lives intersect. Also Emma Thompson, Hugh Grant, Alan Rickman, Liam Neeson...pretty much every British actor you've ever heard of. It's a great movie, I watch it every year, but know that it's rated R for a reason (mostly crude/sexual humor).
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Chapter Four:
Crosby, Netherfield's butler – a reference to Bing Crosby who famously recorded numerous Christmas songs in the 1940s/50s, including "I'll Be Home for Christmas," which inspired the title of this story, "The Christmas Song," "Silver Bells," "Jingle Bells," "Let it Snow," all of which I also used, and many others. Since I referenced so many of the songs he sang, it seemed appropriate to give him his own cameo, of sorts. The butlers in this fic have been very useful for squeezing in silly allusions, lolz.
"...a scream rent the silent night, throwing all that was calm into chaos." – reference to the song "Silent Night" by Franz Xaver Gruber and Joseph Mohr, performed for the first time on Christmas Eve 1818 in Austria, so even though at the time of this story it would not have been written, Darcy and Elizabeth likely would have heard it during their lifetimes. Also, let's hope there's not a Nakatomi Plaza in Austria.
"...his belly continued to wobble like a bowlful of jelly..." – reference to the famous Christmas poem "'Twas the Night Before Christmas a Visit from St Nicholas" by Clement Clarke Moore (1822). I've made a special effort to compare Sir William Lucas to the St Nicholas as described in this poem.
"Sir William Lucas was a right jolly old soul..." – reference to a line from "'Twas the Night Before Christmas" (1822) "He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf."
"...but a wink of Sir William's eye and a twist of his head let Darcy know that it might not be so dreadful after all." – another line from "'Twas the Night Before Christmas" (1822) "A wink of his eye and a twist of his head/Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread."
"His broad face, covered in a beard as white as snow, was wreathed in a merry smile..." – several lines from "'Twas the Night Before Christmas" (1822), including the descriptions "He had a broad face," "And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow," and "And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath."
"Sir William, jolly happy soul that he was..." – this time I've compared Sir William to Frosty! Reference to the song "Frosty the Snowman" written by Walter "Jack" Rollins and Steve Nelson, first recorded by Gene Autry in 1950. The popular children's cartoon version was released in 1969.
"His heart...remained swollen by three times its normal size with love for his new wife" – another reference to the same line in How the Grinch Stole Christmas by Dr Seuss (book 1957; animated film 1966) that I utilized in Chapter One. Couldn't resist.
"...not a creature was stirring anywhere, not even a mouse, and all were snug in their beds" – I suppose "'Twas the Night Before Christmas" (1822) was the unofficial inspiration for the second half of this chapter. Refers to a particular line of the poem "Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.../The children were nestled all snug in their beds."
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Chapter Five:
*Many of the references, naturally, repeat from the first chapter so I'll only list the new ones.
Colors – Fun fact, Elizabeth and Darcy only wear variations of red and green throughout the story. Ho ho ho!
Jack Frost – A mythological character who personifies winter weather, specifically snow, ice and frost. Supposedly, he's the reason why the world freezes over. He first appears in 19th century literature, but is also a character in various contemporary works such as the film Rise of the Guardians (2012) in which he's voiced by Chris Pine. Rawr.
"You sound more and more like Mrs Reynolds every trip. Next you will be fretting that I shall somehow 'shoot my eye out' while hunting." – I worked so hard to squeeze this one in. It's from A Christmas Story (1983) in which the protagonist, a young boy named Ralphie, desperately wants a Red Rider BB Gun for Christmas. His mother, like a responsible parent, tells him repeatedly that he can't have one because she worries he'll "shoot his eye out." Incidentally, he very nearly does, thus proving that mothers are always right (and don't you forget it). If I could have stuffed Darcy into a pink bunny suit or placed a weirdly sexy leg lamp at Pemberley I would have, but I'm settling for this.
Author's Note: Enough references to play a drinking game, eh? Maybe with some eggnog or spiked apple cider. Please continue onward to read an alternate ending to this story that, ultimately, just didn't work for me. I still like it, though, and you might see a few similarities between the final draft and the original. Set the morning after Darcy's arrival in Hertfordshire.
Alternate Ending
May 12, 1812
Hertfordshire, Oakham Mount
Early the next morning, just as the sun began to sleepily crest the horizon in the east, Darcy rode out on his stallion Ebeneezer – truly, he should never allow Georgiana to name the horses – to the predesignated meeting spot where he could reunite with his beloved Elizabeth.
During their final tour of the grove together before he had departed Kent, she had lamented that their walks together were coming to an end as they had proven to be an excellent opportunity for the two of them to get to know each other, in spite of the slight impropriety of being alone so often. After not quite three weeks of indulging this habit, Elizabeth said, she felt as if she knew him better than she had during their two month acquaintance in the autumn. Had she known the Darcy then that she knew now, she felt that she would not have judged him so harshly as she did before. Or so she had hypothesized.
In order to continue this tradition in Hertfordshire, Elizabeth had recommended to him that he might "accidentally" stumble upon her during her early morning walks – always taken between dawn and nine o'clock in the morning, before breakfast – which frequently took her to Oakham Mount, conveniently located between Longbourn and Netherfield. Darcy had accepted this hint with cheer and then, unable to resist, kissed her upon the back of a gloved hand. His beloved Elizabeth had blushed prettily for him and pointedly refrained from scolding him for this action, which had sent his heart stuttering.
As Oakham Mount – really less of a mount and more of a large hill – beckoned him in the near distance, Darcy fought to focus on his happy anticipation of seeing Elizabeth again and not the dark insecurities that Bingley had awoken within him yesterday. He told himself that, far from any vision, Elizabeth herself, in the flesh, had been encouraging his suit and would be happy to see him. But the disappointment he had felt upon seeing her again in Kent for the first time, noting the absence of warmth and welcome in her eyes, would not be dismissed so easily. What if, after the separation of a few days, her tolerance of him had waned and she had reverted back to the Elizabeth who had been unaware of his affection for her? The one who thought him a stuffy prig with no regard for the feelings of others? He would have no choice but to terminate his pursuit of her and retreat back to Pemberley, his large, empty home...
Darcy reigned Ebeneezer in as he reached the base of the hill and dismounted. A small, feminine figure waited at the crest of the hill, staring out into the distance in the opposite direction from himself. Though she wore a bonnet and he could not see her face, Darcy could tell by the sage green dress – one of her favorites for walking – that the figure was Elizabeth. He straightened his spine, lifted one foot to begin ascent of the slope and forged forward.
As he drew near, Elizabeth turned, probably alerted to his presence by the sound of his boots swishing through the tall grass. The brim of her bonnet continued to hide her expression as he approached, though her form was relaxed and showed no sign of tension.
"William!"
Darcy froze in place, his eyes locked upon Elizabeth who was only a few mere feet away from him but drawing closer, her boots lightly skimming the wild verdure as she practically skipped toward him. Her head covering, crimson ribbons flapping loose in the wind created by her movement, flew off and landed upon the ground behind her.
She did not tackle him in a hug, of course, but stopped immediately before him, out of breath, and he could finally see her face with clarity. His heart stopped...
...and began to grow.
His Elizabeth was radiant. Her eyes, deep and evergreen, sparkled in the newly risen sunlight like dew upon the grass and regarded him with the same tender affection he had only experienced in his vision. Her lips were stretched across her face in a smile that almost looked painful and they welcomed him with exuberance. "I have missed you," she confessed, shyness evident in her tone now that they were standing before one another.
Darcy said nothing at first; he could not around the lump in his throat blocking all sound from escaping. How he loved her so...
Elizabeth, clearly misinterpreting his frozen mien and extended silence, bowed her head and flushed a pretty pink. "I...I am sorry, sir. Forgive me for addressing you so inappropriately. You never gave me leave to refer to you by your Christian name, much less an endearment, and it just slipped out – "
"No! You mistake me," croaked Darcy, forcing the words from his mouth in a harsh burst. She looked back up at him, a little startled, and he gentled his tone. "That is...I was surprised, that is all. You have never...how long have you thought of me as 'William'?"
Elizabeth bit her lip and tilted her head to the side, as if considering. "I...I cannot say. It has been coming on so gradually...but I will not refer to you thusly if you do not like it."
"I like it," he replied, softly but earnestly.
Her smile was back, though it was still bashfully timid. "Welcome back to Hertfordshire...William."
In spite of being hundreds of miles from Pemberley, away from everything he had ever known as a boy and a young man, right there on Oakham Mount he was home.
"Thank you," he replied, his own voice lowered by a sudden fit of shyness (though he would never call it such himself). He offered his arm and she accepted it as they proceeded to climb up to the top of the hill where, she had once assured him, the view was something spectacular.
On the way, he paused to bend down and recapture her wayward bonnet and handed it to her. To his great satisfaction, she did not replace it upon her head but rather carried it in her free hand, allowing it to dangle from her fingers by it's bright red ribbons, lightly skimming the tips of the overgrown grass as it swung backwards and forwards within her loose grip. Unbound tendrils of her dark hair that had slipped loose from the haphazardly orchestrated bun resting upon her neck spiraled in the light breeze. He was entirely mesmerized by how her ringlets undulated around her face.
When he caught Elizabeth peeking at him from her peripheral vision, he tore his eyes away from her playful curls and refocused them upon the view she was indicating to him. "I am sure this is nothing compared to the peaks of Derbyshire," she admitted with a coy tilt to her lips, "but I have always appreciated the view here. I feel as if I can see everything."
Indeed, the opposite side of Oakham Mount had more in common with actual mountains than the one he had approached it from. Though still not nearly so high as the peaks he was used to, before them lay a vista of rolling fields, grazing cattle and little houses dotting the landscape. The other side sloped downward further and at a steeper angle that would be much more difficult to ascend, creating an elevated view which extended to the horizon. Darcy almost imagined he could see Pemberley from there, though of course that was impossible.
"Yes," Darcy replied after a long moment, allowing his eyes to finally drift back down to her face where they wished to settle. "It is quite lovely."
Darcy watched as Elizabeth began revealing little details that a native such as herself would know but he would not – the name of the river over yonder, which little cottage belonged to whom, the property lines of her neighbors – and he allowed himself to once again become mesmerized by her. She spoke with the animation which defined her character, making little quips and wry observations about what they were seeing, and he watched her mouth move with utter fascination. He had the strongest urge to bend forward and silence those lips with his own...
"What think you, William?" Elizabeth asked, swiveling her head in his direction so that she could look up at him. Upon meeting his intense gaze, she flushed and lowered her fine eyes so that they were veiled by her lashes. She nibbled at her lower lip and he fought his returning distraction.
"I am sorry, I was not attending," he admitted with no rush of guilt.
Her responding scold was light and playful as she pivoted her head at an upward angle to meet his gaze again. "For shame, sir! What ever shall I do with you?"
Darcy had the strongest impulse to tell her that she could do with him whatever she wished, that he belonged entirely to her and her alone – but he could not summon the speech necessary for such declarations. A man who had felt less might have, but Darcy was incapable of forming his feelings into something as paltry as words. He struggled to think of anything to say, something that was somehow meaningful to the moment yet would not frighten her with the intensity of the feelings she had not been ready for at Rosings Park, but nothing appropriate sprang to his mind.
At length, he took a deep breath and determined to say something lighthearted in return. Instead, without consciously meaning to, he said, "Marry me."
Elizabeth, clearly startled by his non sequitur, stared at him with a slackened jaw and widened eyes. "I...I beg your pardon?"
Darcy realized that he probably should have covered his blunder, pretended he had not said it at all, perhaps, but it felt wrong to dissemble. His request had been honest and heartfelt, if foolishly rash, and...and...
"Marry me," he repeated, reaching out to claim her hands with his. "I beg you to relieve my suffering and agree to become my wife."
She seemed to hesitate, blinking slowly at him. "I..."
Panic clenched at his heart; had he ruined his chance?
"I...," she paused to lick her plump, pink lips, "Yes...yes, I will marry you."
Darcy's heart felt as if it grew three sizes in the instant that she had said "yes." Overwhelmed by the love pouring forth from this engorged organ, he dropped her hands and used his arms to reach out and wrap themselves around her torso, dragging her toward him and into his crushing embrace. She squealed in surprise, but moments later responded by repeating his gesture; he could feel her hands clutching at his coat as he buried his face in her neck and inhaled deeply.
Evergreens...and cinnamon. Just as he had expected.
"My love, my love," he murmured into her hair, pressing his lips to the curls at her temple repeatedly.
He felt her shoulders relax as she sighed, experienced the tickle of her breath against his jaw. "My William..."
As they walked to Longbourn together, the fingers of one of Darcy's hands intertwined with the fingers of hers, Elizabeth began to pepper her newly betrothed with questions about the evolution of his feelings for her. "How could you begin?" she asked, her voice lilting with what he thought might be suppressed laughter. "I can comprehend your going on charmingly, when you had once made a beginning, but what could have set you off in the first place?"
Darcy shrugged Ebeneezer away from his face where the horse had been nuzzling at his ear. "I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun."
"My beauty you had early withstood," she accused with an arch smile, "and as for my manners – my behavior to you was at least always bordering on the uncivil, and I never spoke to you without rather wishing to give you pain than not. Now, be sincere; did you admire me for my impertinence?"
"For the liveliness of your mind, I did," was all he would admit to.
Elizabeth laughed and said, "You may as well call it impertinence at once. It was very little less. You were disgusted with the women who were always speaking and looking, and thinking for your approbation alone. I roused, and interested you, because I was so unlike them. Had you not really been amiable you would have hated me for it; but in spite of the pains you took to disguise yourself, your feelings were always noble and just; and in your heart, you thoroughly despised the persons who so assiduously courted you. There – I have saved you the trouble of accounting for it and, really, all things considered, I begin to think it perfectly reasonable. To be sure, you knew no actual good of me – but nobody thinks of that when they fall in love."
"Was there no good in your affectionate behavior to Jane, while she was ill at Netherfield?"
After all, it had been this event which had cemented the attachment he had attempted to deny for her. He had witnessed her affectionate care for her sister and coveted it for himself, thus falling more sincerely under her spell. Before that, Darcy supposed that his inclination for her could have been considered a weak, transient thing and, had he left Netherfield before that, he likely never would have fallen so deeply in love with her. To see her standing there in the breakfast parlor, eyes brightened by exercise and clothes spattered in mud all in the service of attending the ailing Jane Bennet, had awakened a longing within Darcy that he had not experienced since he was a boy. The longing to be adored by someone.
"Dearest Jane!" she exclaimed with an affectionate shake of the head. "Who could have done less for her? But make a virtue of it, by all means. My good qualities are under your protection and you are to exaggerate them as much as possible. In return, it belongs to me to find occasions for teasing and quarreling with you as often as may be. I shall begin directly by asking you why, if you loved me back in the autumn, did you leave Netherfield? It was above four months until we saw one another again and I suspect that you did not know of my presence in Kent until you arrived."
Darcy turned his face away, his head bowed. "I confess that it does not speak well of my character when I admit that I once thought you unsuitable to be my bride. I despised your connections and your family's behavior. Added to that your lack of fortune, and I had determined after no more than a month of struggle that I could not have you. And so I left."
He felt Elizabeth's fingers stiffen and begin to pull away. "I...see."
Darcy reaffirmed his grip upon her hand and returned his stare to focus upon her expression. It was hurt and wary, as was natural. "But I was a fool, Elizabeth. You are worth more to me than any dowry or lofty connections – I love you."
It was Elizabeth's turn to cast her gaze away; her free hand rose to her cheek and surreptitiously swept away a tear. "If you are having any doubts, sir, I would release you from our understanding now before we speak to my father. I will not hold you to an engagement that you so spontaneously offered."
"No!" Darcy shouted, rushing forward so that he could plant himself in her line of sight. She halted and looked up at him, her eyes deep and fathomless like the green sea. "I do not wish to be released from our engagement! What I meant was...what I wanted to say...argh! I am not capable of expressing myself eloquently."
"Then speak plainly, sir," she commanded, slipping back into that cold politeness he had experienced in Kent.
Darcy paced away from her, sweeping his beaver from his head so that he might run his fingers through his hair in frustration. He stopped a few feet away, eyes trained on the middle-distance as he contemplated what he should say next. The only thing that occurred to him was to speak of his vision, that beautiful premonition that could be theirs, but he feared that she would think him mad and break off their agreement.
Of course, she was already threatening to break off their agreement and he had not said a single word about mystical visions sent to him by God. What did he have left to lose?
He pivoted on his heel and returned to her side, clasping his hands behind his back lest he reach out and grab her to relieve his desperate feelings. He took a deep breath and began, "You may not believe me..."
Elizabeth folded her hands together and held them in front of her. Primly, she encouraged, "I believed your last confession, Mr Darcy. Let us try for the same success now."
"Very well," he agreed, "though I do not truly understand it, myself. Last Christmas Eve, I was on my way home to Pemberley..."
Author's Note: I cut this ending for three reasons. Firstly, it was rather abrupt to me. Secondly, I found it a little too saccharine. Thirdly, and somewhat related to the first, there wasn't enough actual interaction between Darcy and Elizabeth before he proposed. I felt that her feelings should be shown more clearly before the reader was told that she was in love with him. After all, we got to see Darcy's vision and subsequent determination, but only the slight softening of Elizabeth's prejudice against him in the previous chapter. As Darcy himself said earlier in this story, it's better to think that they're equally in love with one another.
Anyway, it still seemed too significant to just throw away so I added it as a bonus. Merry Christmas, lolz (or, by the time you're reading this, Happy New Year).
Happy Holidays to all!
– MrsMarySmythe