by Naomi Novik
Mr.Darcyhadbeenwillingtosetasidetheopinionsevenofthosenearesttohim,whoseopprobiumhe must have known to expect. He had not counted insurmountable all the practical difficulties which the matchwouldentail,norshouldhehave.Howmanywomenenduredwithcouragelongseparationsfrom theirhusbands,gonetoseaorcovert,andcountedthejoyofirregularreunionsasufficientrecompense?
Shehadnotmatchedthatcourage.Shehadchosencertainmiseryandviceforboth,fromthehollow motiveofpreservinghisuncertainchancesoffuturehappiness,andherfreedomfromobligation.Butwhat were those chances? That Mr. Darcy might be expected to marry a woman of superior wealth and rank than herself, was hardly to be doubted. But he had never yet shown himself inclined to do so. That his wifemightbeexpectedtodevoteherselftohisinterestswasequallycertain,buthehadnotmadeanoffer to a woman who could do so. Observers might be amazed that with all his advantages, Mr. Darcy had madeachoicesolittlecalculatedtoimprovehiscomfortsinlife.Butsurelyshehadnorighttochoose decorumoverhonesty,andmakeherdutyanexcusetoavoidthecensureoftheworld.
Insuddendecision,sheputoffhergown,anddressedagaininherflying-gear.Achairborehertothe gates of the covert, where Wollstonecraft eagerly called a greeting as soon as she had come into view.
“Youaredressedforflying,”thedragonsaidjoyfully.“Areyoubettertodayatlast,dearElizabeth?”
“Iam,mydearest,”Elizabethsaid.“Iamquitewell,andImeantoprevailuponyoutotakemeup—
indeed,IhopeyouwillnotmindtakingmesofarasDerbyshire.”
“ToDerbyshire!”Wollstonecraftsaid,herslitpupilswideningorangeamoment.“Oh!Ishouldbe delighted.PerhapsyouhaveheardfromMr.Darcy?”
“Ihavenot,”Elizabethsaid,inrepressivetones,butWollstonecraftonlygaveaknowingnodofher head.
“You are quite right, of course we must call upon him,” the dragon said. “It would never do to neglecttheacquaintance.Perhapshehasnotyetheardofourvictory.”
“Schemingcreature,”Elizabethsaid,affectionately,andwenttospeakwithCaptainWinslowandto acquaint him with her design of going into the North for a few days; having left the formation in his excellenthands,andhavingspokenwithherfirstlieutenantandherground-crewmaster,andvisitedher wounded men, she felt herself at liberty to set forth, and went aboard, well bundled against the chill, whichifitwerenotasappropriateinWollstonecraft’sopinionashavingsetforthinadiaphanousmuslin gownandanexcessivelylonganddraughtycloak,atleastwassurerofsafeguardingherhealth.
TheflightwasnotsufficientlylongastotireElizabeth,afterherlongweeksofrest,butquiteenough tomakeheranxiousforthereceptionshemightfind.ThatMr.Darcy’sheartwaslikelytobefickle,she did not in the least fear; but it did not seem to her unlikely that he might have thought better of his intentions.“Ifheshouldreproachmewithhavingshownanunpardonableindifferencetohishonorand my own, how might I defend my conduct?” she privately asked herself, as Wollstonecraft stretched her wings,andfoundnosatisfactoryanswer.Butshefeltstronglythatsheowedhimthechancetorenewhis addresses,evenattheriskoflearninghenolongerwishedtodoso.
Wollstonecraftcamedownuponthefarshoreofthelake,withitsbeautifulprospectuponPemberley, atElizabeth’srequest;shedesiredatoncethechanceofcomposingherselfbetterduringthewalktowards thehouse,andtogiveamplewarningofherarrival.Butthesecondaimmadethefirstimpossible;when shewasonlyhalfwayaroundthecircuitofthelake,abreakinthetreespermittedhertoseethemasterof thehouseleavingbyasidedoor,andcomingquicklyalongtheverypathshewalked,beforehewasonce againhiddenfromview.Theremainderofthewalkdidnothingtosootheherspirits.Everystepdrewher nearertoafinalconfrontation,andshewassurehewasonlybeyondthenexttreeorshrubmanytimes before he at last appeared, his hands clenched by his sides and the expression of his face grave and drawn.
He started when he saw her, and instantly cried, “You are very pale—you have been ill,” with so much alarm that Elizabeth forgot her first embarrassment in assuring him she was well, and wholly recovered. “But you were wounded,” he said, low, and she had to confess it; somehow her hands had cometobeclaspedinhis,andhestoodwithhisheadbowedoverthem,andElizabethcouldbestifledno longer.
“Mr.Darcy,”shesaid,“IhopeyouknowIwouldneverreproachyou,ifyouhadthoughtbetterofthe sentimentswhichyouexpressedtome,thispastDecember.”Hisheadlifted,asshespoke,andhefixed hisgazeuponhersointentlyastomakeheravertherowneyes,tomaintainhercountenance.“Myduty remains unchanged, and with it every obstacle in the way of my having the power to offer any man a respectable or a comfortable home, nor have I possessed for years a character which might be compromisedintheeyesoftheworldinsuchawayastolaydemandsuponanymantotorepairit.But neverthelessIcannotpermittheanswerwhichIgaveyou,ontheoccasionofourlastmeeting,tostand.I amashamedofhavingmadeit.Nofurtherwordwillpassmylipsuponthissubject,butIwouldnothave youthinkIdonotesteemandvalueyoumoredeeplythananyothergentlemanofmyacquaintance.”
“Captain Bennet!” he said. “—Elizabeth!” Although he was too much surprised to express himself veryfluently,hedidnotlongleaveherinanydoubtofhisdesiresandbywhatmeanshefeltshemight bestensurehishappiness.Asmallbenchwastobefoundamongthetreesalittlefurtheralongthepath, overlooking the lake, and to this place they repaired and sat a long while together, discussing the arrangementsfortheirfuture.TheyagreeduponitthatMr.Darcywouldshortlytakeupresidenceinhis house in London, where they would marry, and that they should together wait upon Mr. Bennet at Longbourne the following day, to acquaint her family with their intentions and seek their consent to the match.
“But I am afraid you must first apply to another authority: I certainly cannot marry without Wollstonecraft’spermission,”Elizabethsaid,herspiritsnowrestoredenoughtolaugh,andtheywentarm inarmtothedragonwaitingexpectantlyattheendofthepath.
“Yes, Elizabeth may marry you, if she likes,” Wollstonecraft said in judicious and somewhat lofty tones,butwhenMr.Darcyhadpartedfromthem,toreturntothehouseandsharehishappinesswithhis sister,beforeElizabethshouldjointhemfordinner,WollstonecraftverynearlyknockedElizabethdown withacongratulatorynudge,andsaidgleefully,“Andyou shallbemarriedbyspeciallicense,ofcourse.
Oh!Elizabeth!Idonotthinktherecanbeahappierdragoninalltheworld.”
(artbyAgnesHartman)
Author’s Note: A drabble is a story of 100 words—and while there are many
debates on how strictly the limit should be observed, for purposes of this
collectionIhavekepttotheexactnumber.
LAURENCEFINISHEDCOUGHINGthelastofthewaterfromhislungs,rolledontohisbackinthe
sand,andlookedup.Thetall,broad-shoulderedwomanwhohadhauledhimoutwasgazingdownathim withsomeamusement:therewasapuckeredscardownherface.Downthebeach,GranbyandTharkay werehelpingthegaspingtouristoutofthewater:helookedrathershaken,anddeservedly,havingignored fourseparateriptidewarningsallposted.“Veryheroic,”shesaid.“Butnexttime,perhapsyouhadbetter workoutawaytokeepfromdrowningyourself,whileyouareaboutit.”
(artbyAlLukehart)
STARSGLEAMEDOVERHEADwhentheeggrockedonitscradle.Theattendantrobotsdidnotstir
withexcitement;theywerenot
programmedtodoso.Buttheycamefullyonlineimmediately,monitoring thesituation,readytointerveneifanythingshouldgowrong.Theenormoustreesstoodsilentroundthem.
Theeggrocked,thencracked;anothercrack,andthedragonet’sheadbroketheshell.Hedrewhisfirst breath of alien air and blinked wondering upwards at the pitch expanse, the spray of stars beyond the leaves.Therobotsmovedtoofferhimthefeedingvat.Heknewtheirvoicesalready.
(artbyAmandaSharpe)
THEHUMANCLUB,below,wasfullofraucousmusicandshrieksoflaughter,butupontheroofsmall serving-dragonswentbackandforthtofillsilverbowlssetoutatcomfortablywideintervals.Fromthe heights of Montmartre, the city was at once distant and all around, lit up brilliantly. “So much has changed,Madame,surely,”oneofthedragonssaidtoher,inquisitively.Hehadalineoffeathersrunning downhisspine,aminglingwithIncanblood.
ThedomeofLesInvalidesshonegoldeninthedistance.“Iwillhavetheabsinthe,”Liensaid.The painremainedunaltered.
(artbyAmyThompson)
THEFRENCHAVIATORSwerecallingtooneanotherandtotheircoughingbeasts,coaxingthemtoput ontheirarmor;theprocesswouldrequireanotherhourortwo.Laurenceatoncewishedthemgone,and yettheywerethelasthoursofhislibertyremaining.Thelasthoursofhislife.
Temeraire was silently and relentlessly furrowing the bare earth with his talons. Laurence said softly,“ImightasktoborrowaBible.”Temerairedidnotbelieve,heknew,buthehadnoothercomfort thatwashistooffer.
“Ofcourse,Laurence,”Temerairesaid,equallysoft.“Readtome.”
(artbyAngelaHsieh)
INTHEARMYpavilionsontheYellowRiver’sbank,thereddragonsweresingingasongofwar,loud andsonorous,ofmountainsandtenthousandmilesunrollingbeneaththem.Herfather’sheavyleathercoat weighed upon her shoulders, and the wide belt with its straps round her arms and thighs rubbed with every stride. Her hands were sweaty around the long shaft of her war sword. Surely they would see throughheratonce.
Theofficialwithhisscrollsheapedaroundhimneverlookedup.“Yourname?”
“MyfatherisHuaHu,”Mulansaid.
“Reporttothethirdpavilion.”
(artbyCaitlinJohnson)
“IDONOTsee,”Temerairesaidinsomeirritation,afterthepoemhadbeenread,“whythisHrothgar fellowhadtobuildhishousedirectlyatopthedragon’scave,andwhilenaturallynoonecouldapprove thisGrendelfellow’seatingthirtypeople,Icannotcallitastonishingthatwhenyoupushintosomeone’s territory and set up a tremendous noise every night just as he likes to go to sleep, that he should make strongobjections.AndIdaresayhedidnoteatthirtypeople,oranythinglike,either;ifheweresobig, howdidBeowulfslayhim?”
(artbyEricaLange)
LAURENCEHADGONEaloftattheageoftwelve,andhadspentnearlyallhislifeaboardtheairships ofBritain,thegroanandhissoftheengineandthefaintdigestiverumblingofthesacsafamiliarmusic; beforehehadevergoneaboardTemeraire’sback,hehadclamberedovertheirbulgingsurfacestorepair riggingandhadevenstoodupwithhisbootshalf-sunktoseethelandandseaspreadoutbeneathhimlike a map. But he had never conceived even so of a city built vertical, full of dragons flying, and ports establishedinmid-air.
(artbyErikaB.Xochimitl)
“WOULDN'TITBElovelytogoroundalltheworld?”Elsiesaid,lookingatthepostereagerly.
Hollin’sattentionwascaughtmorebytheprize:onethousandpounds.Hewasgettingon,andhehad beenpuzzlinghimselfagreatdeallatelyhowtokeeppoorElsiefromsomemiserablebreedingground whenhecouldnotgoaloftanymore. Thetriumphofthemachine! thechallengescreamed,butwhenhe squintedattheruleswrittensmall,theysaidnaughtwasrequiredbutvisitingthetencitiesontheroute.“I supposeyoucanfitonaboat,”hesaidthoughtfully.
(artbyJasonLauborough)
JANEPULLEDHERneckclothlooseandwipedthebloodfromherfaceasbestshecould,thentieditup round her head. The dead Frenchman was hanging over the side limp in his straps. She bent down to uncliphim.Hisbodytumbledawayintothebillowinggunpowdercloudsbelow.
ShestoodupandfoundCaudecstaring.Hercheekthrobbedviciously,andshecouldfeeltheflesh tryingtogape,butshecouldstillseeoutofthelefteye:astrokeofluck.“Theboarders?”
“Allrepelled,Captain,”hesaid.Forthefirsttime,thetitleseemedunforced.
(artbyJenniferRahier)
THEMOONWAVEREDonthesurfaceofthewater,distantly.Thecisternwasverylow.Kilitshookhis head,goldenringsjingling,andwentaloftinawidecirclingloopthattookhimoverallthegreatsprawl ofthecity,moonlightonthecanals.Theairsmelledofrain,butithadsmelledofrainlastweek,too,and therainhadcome,butnotenough.Notenoughhadcomelastyeareither.Thegranariesweregrowinglow.
There would not be enough food for the dry season, not for everyone. He would have to hold the rites again.
(artbyJohnO’BrienSchroeder)
THETOWERSOFtheJiayuGatewerelargeenoughthatTemerairecouldstanduponthem,andthetwo reddragonguardshadrespectfullyslippedawayandlefthimalone.Thescrubbygroundaboutthegate did not recommend itself, it was only pebbles and dirt. There was no appealing scenery: nothing to remindhimofthefragrantgardens,orthesoftgreenmountains.Temerairebenthishead.Downbelowthe customs inspectors were making a great noise over everything which his crew wished to bring out of China.Hewonderedifanyofthegoodsweresorrytogo,too.
(artbyKarenaKliefoth)
“NO, THESE ARE for my supper,” Demane said sternly. The rabbits were not big enough to make Kulingileevenamouthful,buthestillthoughtanythingDemanecaughtwasmeantdirectlyforhisbelly.
“Oh, very well,” Kulingile said, and settled down while Demane set them roasting on a spit. The otheraviatorswereallatdinnertogether,andRolandwouldsayheoughttobethere,too.Well,hewas notgoing.Hedidnotneedthemtosayhewasanaviator.Hehadadragonforthat.
Whenheslept,onKulingile’sarm,hedreamedofflying.
(artbyKatieGaubatz)
THARKAY SOFTLY FINISHED the story of the boy swallowing the dragon-pearl and going into the river,hismotherweepingonthebank.Temeraire’seyeshadclosed.Thewaveslappedgentlyrhythmicat the ship’s side. Laurence stood with a hand on the railing of the dragon deck, facing into the wide distance,hishairwind-blown.Asternqualityhadcomeintohisface,thislastyear:inthefadinglighthe wasastatuegildedbysunset.Itwasapangnotunmixedwithpleasuretolookonhim,asever.Tharkay wasgladthedespair,atleast,hadgone.
(artbyKellyNugent)
JANEHADNOTmeanttolikethefellow;hehadbeendescribedtoherasveryblue,andhewasformal asanymanshehadevermet,inallconscience.Shehadaskedhimtodinneronlytobepolite,toEmily’s captain,andtogivehimhercountenance:therewereanynumberofofficersstillbittertohaveaheavy-weightdroppedinaNavyman’slap,andherapprovalwouldsilencesomewhispers.Butshesurprised herselftofind,aftertwohours,thatherpleasureintheconversationhadnotonceflagged.Andnotinhis shoulders,either.
(artbyKelseyZilowar)
“ONCEUPONAtimetherewasasplendidKazilikdragon,whohadheapsofgoldandthreepavilions, each larger than the last, and any number of dragons courting her, bringing presents from morning until night,alltogainherfriendshipandpersuadehertoformaneggwiththem—”
Temeraireflattenedbackhisruff.“Thatisnotagoodstoryatall,andthereisnothingwrongwith yourwings,either;youcancatchyourownshe
ep.”
“It is an excellent story, in my opinion,” Iskierka said, “and I am busy; this is not easy work, you know.”
(artbyKyleBice)
EDWARDHOWEPUTdownhispenandstudiedhisworkwithasatisfactionsogreathefeltitnearly unseemly,andyetbeyondhispowertorepress.Thedelicatespinesofthewings,theoutlinesofruffand tendrils,allaccuratelyrepresented,andeverybonewhichhecouldplacewithconvictionbaseduponthe external examinations which Temeraire had so generously permitted. Alas, he could not include any diagram of the mechanism of the divine wind: peering down Temeraire’s throat had offered no illumination, and he would not stoop to speculation. No matter. The Royal Society would be delighted regardless.
(artbyKyleBroad)
“SURELY,LAURENCE,YOUcanmovealittlequicker,”Temerairesaid.“ItwillbedaysbeforeIam closeenoughtoclawatLienatthisrate.”
“Iamafraiditisratherdifficult,”Laurencesaid,soundingpeculiarlyunderwater.
“Well, I will be patient,” Temeraire said disconsolately. “At least Napoleon is smaller than you are,” he added for consolation, peering across the murky and befogged field where Lien perched very awkwardly upon the Emperor’s back. He had the insistent sensation, looking at the strange figure they made,thattherewassomethingquitewrong,buthecouldnotquiteworkitout.
