Posted by Commander Roman Alden (First Officer & Chief Science Officer) in side - sim: Paying for Our Sins

Posted by Ensign Rand Farquharson (Yeoman First Class) in side - sim: Paying for Our Sins

Posted by Commander Roman Alden (First Officer & Chief Science Officer) in side - sim: Paying for Our Sins
Posted by… suppressed (72) by the Post Ghost! 👻

(snip)
Rand wasn’t sure what to do but she wanted to help. “Do you want to go back to sleep or we could watch a movie…” She just wanted him to feel better.

Rand

Roman settled in against her, resting his head on her, and shrugged at first but then turned to look at her, “Won’t a movie make your head worse?”

~ Roman

Rand blinked, oh…maybe. “Well it’s not right in front of me and I can close my eyes and just listen if it bothers me. That would be okay. Randy?” He looked over and nodded, “Yeah, as long as you are careful. You’ve been asleep most of the day, and rested. You could try.”

Rand

Setting aside the water bottle Randy had given him, he looked at Rand. “What about lines? We haven’t done any of your plays in months. And your head is getting better.” He knew how much she usually loved them. He also remembered she was having trouble remembering the plays and her performances. He was still sure getting her to read them would help her remember.

~ Roman

“L…l…l…lines?” No, she couldn’t do lines. No. She tried, alone, when no one knew. She couldn’t do it no matter how much she wanted to. She looked at her brother, the trepidation and sadness clear, even without hands that shook before she could hide them. “R…r…randy I…I…I can’t do that r..right? I’m not s…s..supposed to r…read or anything.”

Randy tipped his head looking at her. Like Roman he had been trying to get her to read, to practice, to remember her lines. It was such a part of her and it broke his heart that she refused to try. “You’ve slept all day and all night. You can do an hour or so. You are allowed a few hours a day.” He turned to Roman, “Just watch for signs she’s had too much. Slurring, not stuttering, dizziness even while sitting, trouble translating, saying things that don’t make sense, sudden headache. An hour or so should be fine.”

Of course Randy sided with Roman. They both wanted her to return to such a favored past time. She stared at her hands, she wanted to cry. She couldn’t remember! She tried! She did. More than anything else she wanted to remember those characters, their personas, their essence. They were cherished and priceless pieces of armor to protect the pitiful thing she was. Women who were confident, brave, intelligent, witty, persistent. Everything Miranda Farquharson was not.

She could see Roman out of the corner of her eye, watching her, the look deep in his eyes, trying not to remember what today was. Oh what a coward she was, to hide away for fear of not remembering when her beloved Roman couldn’t stop remembering, everyday, but especially today. She wanted desperately to be able to agree, to do this for him, but fear of disappointing him, of not remembering made the words stick in her throat.

Rand

Roman smiled and put and arm around her, grabbing his PaDD off the side table. He had all her favorite scripts saved to it. “I think it’ll help. Maybe not immediately, but I really, honestly do. Would it be easier to start with one you hate, like Scarlett Letter, or one you really like, like…” His gaze took on that robin hood look and he cuddled further into her, “Pride and Prejudice?“

~ Roman

Randy smirked and gave Roman a little wave then collected his things and left. Rand was more likely to relax without an extra audience. Especially since Randy had seen all her performances in person. H e knew exactly how amazing she was. To Rand his absence would mean no expectations.

Roman slipped his arm around her a d she leaned into him stiffly. He wanted her to try, he thought it would help, to try. His words echoed what she had told him a year ago. That healing from the trauma would get worse at first but then it would be better, but he had to try. So now he wanted her to try. She sighed sadly Rand made a face at The Scarlet Letter. She had despised that one so much she had turned the role down.

Then Roman was giving her that look. The one that made her blush and feel warm and giddy. His breath feathered and tickled behind her ear and she relaxed some with a tiny laugh. It occured to her, and made her look up at him suddenly, he wanted to read Pride and Prejudice with her. Not any play, though he would, but that one. It made her blush brighter and duck her head. She didn’t want to, she’d disappoint him.

She pulled her knees to her chest, curled in a small ball of anxious sadness. How could she tell him no? She could not be that cruel. Watching his face made her blush again and she found herself nodding, whispering a tiny “okay” in agreement. She would try.

Rand

Roman’s smile widened a little and he pulled up the script. Then he skipped straight on to the first scene with Elizabeth and Mr Darcy, the dance scene at the beginning of the story. If she was finally, at last going to really try doing lines, Roman was going to make it worth it. He’d studied the movie and the video of Rand’s own performance up, down, left, right, and sideways, and then asked Randy for help perfecting it. A Darcy impression. He sat up slightly and began, in his best, worthy of his grandmother posh accent, deepening his voice slightly to better match Mr Darcy’s, with the first line Darcy speaks to Elizabeth: “I thought that poetry was the food of love.” Then he shifted the PaDD so Rand could see Elizabeth’s reply. He was aware that previously, she would not even need to see it to remember it, but for now he knew she would, so he set it up where they could both see it.

~ Roman

Rand stared at the words, ink on a page was all it was (well pixels on a screen). She read the stage directions, the choreography notes, body language and facial expression. Notes scribbled on the side in her hand. These were copies of her scripts! But they all meant nothing, they triggered no memory, no inspiration, no words tumbled out of her mouth. But Oh Roman’s breeding and training perfectly out matched any imagined or pretend Darcy. The significance of dazzling reality vs pale fiction.

Her eyes scanned up to the top of the page. Dancing and conversation, she read the steps and tried to imagine the rhythm of the music to time her words as they would meet and then part and meet again. She couldn’t capture it, she couldn’t hear it…Elizabeth was teasing? Yes teasing Mr Darcy about love and poetry and common conceptions. Rand licked her lips trying the words in her head. They felt…flat. she didn’t want to do this, she couldn’t find Elizabeth’s voice. She took a breath, reading the words as a school child just learning to decipher, her voice stumbling and stuttering embarrassingly over the speech. “Of a fine stout love, it may. But if it is only a vague inclination I’m convinced one poor sonnet will kill it stone dead.”

Rand

Roman seemed unbothered by her stumbling reading of the line. She would get back into it, he was certain. The notes on the page, they were all Rand’s, pertaining to the role of Elizabeth. He read the next reply how he supposed it should, based on the movie and on the actor from Rand’s performance. “So what do you recommend, to encourage affection?” He looked from the script, to Rand, fighting the urge to smile.

~ Roman

“Dancing…” Rand’s voice trailed off as she skimmed ahead in the line. She didn’t see Roman’s attempt to hide his smile or how happy this was making him. She loved dancing with Roman. Valentine’s had been like a fairy tale, but she had no hope of doing such again. Like the lines that had once been etched in her memory, lessons and choreographed steps and dances had been flash burned from her memory with the explosion. Left behind was the clumsy inadequate girl she had fought so hard to hide. “D d dancing. Even if one’s partner is b b b barely toler r r able.” For certain it had and it would continue to engender deep affection on her part, but she was harsly a tolerable dance partner for Roman anymore.

Rand

Roman looked at her as she stuttered, with affection and love. It would all come back. It had to. But even if it didn’t, he didn’t care. She was still his Miranda and he still loved her. He pulled her closer, “I’d dance with you now if I could.” Then he skipped ahead a little, to the next scene that was shared by both characters and read the line with the same enthusiasm, then looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to say hers.

~ Roman

Pulled closer Rand smiled sadly, her fave hidden some by her hair. If he was better, even if she was not, she would dance with him, though he was certain to find her less than tolerable. His compliment eased some of the ache in her chest to know he had enjoyed that moment as much as she had.

As with the previous scene she scanned the pages, the descriptions, the her notes. This was a favorite book, she should at least remember that much. She fought for some memory that wouldn’t surface. Mr Bingley and his sister were going on about accomplished young women and Darcy was applying his rather high standards to all. That did make Rand smile for just a moment as the comparison to Roman flitted about her mind. Her smile brought a tone of amusement to her words, “Goodness! You must comprehend a great deal in the idea.” Rand didn’t feel it or notice but her own tone reflected the teasing amusement of Elizabeth’s words.

Rand

“I do.” Then there was a line from Caroline Bingley which he repeated in a somewhat ridiculous tone meant to sound something resembling feminine. He would make an utter fool of himself if it would make Rand feel better. Then, “And of course she must improve her mind by extensive reading.” She sounded a little better this time, her voice taking on the amusement appropriate for the line, but not the tone she used for Elizabeth. It was closer. That was what mattered.

~ Roman

She peeked at Roman as he read the line for Caroline Bingley. He sounded so ridiculous but he was smiling. He was having fun and distracted, so she would keep trying. There were notes there referring to later passages. Elizabeth’s feelings that Miss Bingley was totally absurd and nothing but a pretty piece of statuary, and Elizabeth’s own total disregard for whether she met Darcy’s standards or not. That Miss Bingley detested Elizabeth because she could see how Darcy admired her. “I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any.” The lines sounded hollow to her.

Rand

“Are you so severe on your own sex?” That line Roman didn’t like. It reeked of old style sexism. Still, he pronounced it with his posh accent, similarly to how the actors in the movie and the video had done. He looked down at her, waiting for her to say hers. It was like he got a little stab of joy every time she said one, even if she still wasn’t quite back to her usual self.

~ Roman

It was a sentiment that made the ton so unlikable as the world became modern. Roman sounded…old world. That wasn’t a bad thing either. Not in Rand’s mind. There was also a sense of chivalry and responsibility that came with it. In a way the world had forgotten. It was a delicate balance of power and freedom and equality. Again she glanced at the notes - marks, comments, single words, even doodles that she was sure she knew the meaning of before. “I…I…I never saw such a woman. She would certainly be a fearsome thing to behold.” She scanned the next lines, the scene went quiet, but Caroline was full of machinations it seemed and orders Elizabeth to walk about the room with her. Rand reads the lines, normally taking on a different tone, but she only manages to slightly mimic Roman’s silly attempt at a girly voice as Caroline comments that walking is refreshing after sitting for so long. “And it’s a small kind of accomplishment, I suppose.” Then the obvious and annoying Miss Bingley begs Darcy to join them. Rand stares at the notes trying, so desperately to remember, the more she tries to force the memory the more her chest hurts with building anxiety. How horrible she must sound to Roman.

Rand

Roman hated how old-world he sounded sometimes, it reminded him far too much of the world he came from, of his family. But there were some habits he could not break, would probably never break, and that was what led to his earlier comment to Randy. He went ahead in a second obnoxious, approximation of a feminine voice, “Mr Darcy, will you join us?” Then Darcy’s line he spoke in his posh accent, “You can only have two motives, Miss Bingley, and I would interfere with either.” Then he switched back to the feminine voice, “What can he mean?”

~ Roman

Rand was quite familiar with those habits, but he didn’t use them to make himself above people. Rather he was respectful, listened, treated everyone equally. Did he hold extremely high standards? Yes he did, and some people chafed under them, but no one could say he played favorites or made it impossible to reach those standards. It was also one of the things Rand loved about him. She never had to guess at what he wanted, and Rand never minded high standards. Rand laid her head against him as she skimmed the notes again. They said Elizabeth was playful and teasing. She tried but it came out shy. “Our surest way of disappointing him will be to ask nothing about it.” Rand gripped his hand suddenly, trying to get her voice to sound a bit like when she asked Randy for something as she mimicked Caroline, “Please tell us!” Her head shook slightly setting her hair sway and bounce and she sighed sadly.

Rand

She was trying harder! Roman felt like he was succeeding, and he smiled again. It came out more shy than teasing, but it would get there. He imagined her teasing voice, like when she offered up the emerald night gown and hinted at what she was doing when Randy was around in that teasing tone. He went back to the posh accented deep voiced Darcy impression and said the line with a little sass and a lot of prideful attitude: “Either you are in each other’s confidence and have secret affairs to discuss, or you are conscious that your figures appear to the graetest advantage by walking. If the first, I should get in your way. If the second, I can admire you much better from here.” With the last sentence of the line, when he said ‘I can admire you much better from here’, he emphasised the much because he was looking at Rand, with a very loving look like he was absolutely enthralled mixed with the robin hood look.

~ Roman

When he stressed the word, Rand peeked up at him again. She could feel the heat rush to her cheeks and make her flush. Darcy wasn’t supposed to look at Elizabeth like that…not yet. Or…? Was he? She didn’t know and that was not in her notes. She opened her mouth, willing the words to tumble out, but they didn’t. Her eyes slipped away from him and stared at the page. It was a small exchange between Elizabeth and Caroline. It came quiet with no feeling. Even with Caroline’s idiotic discourse. “Oh, shocking! How shall we punish him for such a speech?”

“We could always tease him.”

“Oh no, Mr Darcy is not to be laughed at!”

The notes said that Elizabeth met his gaze with laughter and challenge, but Rand only stared at the page. “Are you too proud, Mr Darcy? And would you consider that a fault?”

Rand

“That I couldn’t say.” Roman recited Darcy’s next line, keeping up the enthusiasm even as Rand spoke quietly and without much emotion or variance. He squeezed her tight to him and smiled again.

~ Roman

The sudden tightness of his arms around her, almost made her exhale a sob. She swallowed it back. Roman, at least, was enjoying himself, she wouldn’t ruin that. She read the next line. “For we’re trying to find a fault in you.”

Rand

“Maybe it’s that I find it hard to forgive the follies and vices of others, or their offences against myself. My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever.” Roman looked down at her and smiled. He had missed this with her and he wished she’d enjoy it like she used to. He was still making sure to act extra enthusiastic and happy, so she would want to do it. The bright side of that was with the meds still keeping him relaxed and drowsy, and all his focus on this, he felt less like there was something in the back of his mind he was obviously ignoring, trying to stay away from.

~ Roman

Rand remembered reading lines with him before. Going back, trying scenes again with different presentations and feeling, pacing about the room, acting out the stage directions. Roman smiling or occasionally giving her a quiet look that she knew meant he enjoyed watching her. Gone…that was all gone now. Nothing left but herself. That was poor compensation.

This line was supposed to carry a solemn tone. Rand managed that. It wasn’t hard with how she felt, but her countenance was supposed to be teasing as she met Darcy’s gaze. Brazen was the term scrawled in the margin. Rand couldn’t get her gaze (she wasn’t looking at him though) to defy the tone of her words. “Oh dear, I cannot tease you about that. What a shame, for I dearly love to laugh.”

It was the end of that scene, at least between Elizabeth and Darcy. Despite how desperately she wanted to stop this farce, Rand didn’t object as Roman turned to the next scene, grinning happily at her. She had promised to try.

Rand

Roman stopped on a page, looked at Rand, and, “May I have the next dance, Miss Elizabeth?” He hoped this wasn’t too hard for her. He did not miss the way she tensed, the way she looked frustrated with herself when the line came out flat or not with the intended emotion. He was still convinced this would help, that actually saying them again would help her memory.

~ Roman

The words, his words, did indeed provoke a memory this time. It brought a surprised expression to her face (just as the notes said she should). The memory was not of plays and rehearsals, performances and spotlights, but of this room. Late…during dinner in the mess, Roman asking her to dance with him. Then walking back to his quarters and dancing in the small cleared space where he had pushed the table away. Of his arms so stiff and formal at first and then pulling her intimately closer, wrapped in his arms as they waltzed togehter, as if they always had.

What had she said? What were her lines? “That sounds nice.” She sounded nervous and breathless and blushed softly as she looked at him. The hope she had gotten it right, that she had remembered correctly. But glancing at the page told she had not. Her chest ached and she hid her face behind her falling hair. “Y…y…You mmmay.” She paused reading the actions, and then, “What was I thinking? Have I no presence of mind?” She scanned further and then licked her lips nervously, her voice wavered a bit. “I do love a Sarabande.”

Rand

Rand spoke, and Roman blinked, surprised. That was not the line from the play. It was… From when he’d asked her to dance. They’d come back to his quarters, he’d cleared the room, and they’d rehearsed, right here. It was a fond memory, and he smiled down at her. Then she finished the lines from the play, so he went on, “Indeed. Most invigorating.” He said it trite, as if awkward, considering the awkward pauses coming up it seemed fitting. But now all he could think about was dancing, with Rand, and neither of them could stand for long let alone dance. How frustrating.

~ Roman

Rand thought about dancing with Roman. How much she loved it. How nervous she had been, the awkward silences. Oh, how she would miss them. Roman sounded awkward and she glanced confusedly at him. He was still smiling at her....oh! It must be the play. She glanced back at the PaDD hurridly scanning the notes…the dialog was broken by seperations during the dance. OH NO! She had even gotten the scenes wrong. The first lines Roman had picked were not when Elizabeth and Darcy danced. They were at a ball but they had not danced then.

This revelation made Rand upset and she bit her tongue to keep a sob from crawling its way out. It was good though, she remembered - if slowly the plot. All she felt was an aching depression at her lost memories. She leaned away reaching for the water beside the bed. Sipping slowly past the lump in her throat. She promised she would try.

“It is your turn to say something, Mr Darcy - I talked about the dance, now you ought to remark on the size of the room or the number of couples.”

Rand

Roman moved so she could reach the water easier. He yawned… No! He couldn’t fall asleep! She was finally reading lines! He had to stay awake! He went on with the next line:”I am perfectly happy to oblige, please advise me of what you would like most to hear.” He had to stay awake long enough to finish the play. It wouldn’t take that long.

~ Roman

Rand heard him yawn. Her first thought was that he was bored or regretted asking her to do this. He seemed like he was enjoying it. Even if he didn’t know how horrible she was now to how she used to be. Then she thought maybe he was just tired, he had been hurting. But then he said the next line. What she would like to hear? She would like to hear her mouth utter the correct lines from memory. Lines that had once come as easy as breathing, that was a piece of her soul. She would like to hear that it didn’t matter she couldn’t remember, but she wouldn’t believe it anyway. She closed the water and took a breath. “That reply will do for the present. Perhaps by the bye I may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones. But for now we may be silent.” She tried very hard for that one, to give some life, some feeling to the words, even if she was unsure what the feeling should be.

Rand

“Do you talk as a rule while dancing?” Roman recited the line. He was just tired, and he didn’t want her to think he was bored, but he was having a hard time not yawning again so he looked at her, “I’m getting a little tired.” And NO he didn’t want to quit. He was NOT going to let her cop out. “I want to finish it though.”

~ Roman

Rand relaxed, he might have thought she sighed. She did a little, relieved. They could stop. Then he said he wanted to finish. “Oh..o…o…okay.” She turned back to the script. It was longer…she took a breath and tried to piece it together. He was tired though, she needed to not take so long so he wouldn’t get tired waiting for her. Reading rather than contemplating it made a significant difference. “We are each of an unsocial, taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say something that will -amaze the whole room, and be handed down to posterity with all the eclat of a proverb. So a little lubrication to avoid embarrassment might be advantageous.”

Rand

Roman had to keep up the enthusiasm, keep his Darcy impression on point. He wanted to keep her interested, the best that he could. “I see no striking resemblance of your own character in this, how near it is to mine I cannot say.” He paused, following the directions on the page. “Tell me do you and your sisters very often walk to Meryton?” He looked to Rand again, waiting for her line.

~ Roman

Rand smiled widely as the words sunk in. Elizabeth’s words were quite accurate and Darcy’s far too polite and formal. He must know that though Elizabeth was teasing she was also honest. But the smile was because Elizabeth’s words truly described Roman and herself…or who she had been before. She liked Roman as Darcy. They were bith very much the same. What a wonderful twist of fate that the man she lived was mirrored so perfectly in her favorite literary hero. She read easier this time, not much, but noticeable, and remembered to just read and not over think so he wouldn’t get bored. “Yes, we often walk to Meryton - it is a great opportunity to meet new people. In fact when you met us we had just had the pleasure of forming a new acquaintance.”

Rand

“I will admit your Mr Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as may ensure his making friends - whether he is capable of retaining them is less certain.” Roman knew the story - Darcy did not like Wickham. Rand was reading the lines easier and that made Roman hopeful. Maybe it was getting easier for her?

~ Roman

It wasn’t easier, but Rand was so afraid to keep him up when he was tired she was working rely hard at trting her best for him. What helped was that the lines were longer as was the scene, it at least allowed for a flow to develop. “He has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship. I remember hearing you once say that your resentment once created was unappeasable. You are very cautious, I suppose, as to its being created?”

Rand

“I am. May I ask to what these questions tend?” Roman said the line a tad more tersely than the actors on the tapes he had studied, his own personality merging with that of Darcy’s. The similarities escaped his notice. He was just reading a script with expressive tone, for Rand’s benefit.... Even if she did not currently know it was for her benefit.

~ Roman

The over exaggerated tone helped. It reminded Rand that although Darcy’s words were without reproach and just a subtle side of neutral his tone and expression conveyed so much more. A gentleman does not air dirty laundry. “To make out your character, Mr. Darcy.” Oh…Elizabeth was curious about him, but didn’t like him. Rand had wanted to figure Roman out, curious about him, wanting to do a good job to help him. …Rand scanned her notes, they meant very little with no memory of the events. She went still, her finger tracing a note she had made. Lizzy lies to herself but does not know it. Does Darcy realize he does the same? Hadn’t Rand lied to herself too? Claiming her interest in Roman had been professional and then simply friendly. Making up excuses and first to cover her attraction?

Rand

Darcy was definitely lying to himself. Roman had. Like Rand, he’d assumed or pretended his interest was professional, that he just liked her quality of work. Then friendly, that she was kind enough to help him… And had also been blind enough not to see that most people did not stay up all night for someone they did not like. Roman considered it as he read over Rand’s notes. Later on in the story, Darcy would go on to say he had fought against his “better judgement”. So Darcy knew he liked Elizabeth… But not yet, Roman decided. “And what have you discovered?” He repeated the line.

~ Roman

“Very little.” Rand paused abruptly almost reading the stage directions about the dance finishing. Her face turned exceedingly red. A memory niggled at her from very very long ago, her stomach twisted and churned with present and remembered embarrassment and shame. “I hear such different accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly.” Roman and her feelings for him had greatly confused Rand too. That confusion and curiosity made it into her voice giving some life to her lines.

Rand

“I hope to afford you more clarity in the future.” Roman repeated the line before he looked at Rand, and when he did he noticed how red her face was. She was embarrassed? Why? Or did she just think him reading lines was hot? He broke character for a moment, “Are you okay?”

~ Roman

Rand only knew she was feeling awkward and like she had done something really wrong. But she couldn’t solidify the memory to tell him what was wrong. She smiled slightly and nodded. “I…I d…don’t know.” She didn’t mean to say that. She couldn’t remember any of it, it was all missing, but Roman seemed to be enjoying it. She didn’t want to tell him how hard this was for her. “I…I’m trrrying.” Roman hadn’t turned the page, but Rand looked expectant, like she might want to keep trying. “Are..are you tired?”

Rand

Roman turned the page to the next scene, shaking his head. “A little. But I’m okay.” He tightened his arm around her again, hugging her to him. Then he read the next line, “I am well enough acquainted with you, Miss Bennet, to know I cannot alarm you even should I wish it.” He also read the line for Fitswilliam: “What was my friend like, in Hertfordshire?”

~ Roman

“You really care to know?” Rand looked up at Roman to see if he would nod at her like the colonel would.

Roman did indeed nod like the colonel.

“Prepare yourself for something very dreadful.” Rand hands stilled, and until that moment she wasn’t aware she had been moving her hands as if playing the piano. Why had she done that? “The first time I saw him, at the Assembly, he danced with nobody at all -even though gentlemen were scarce and there was more than one young lady who was sitting down without a partner.” Rand leaned her head against him with a gentle quirk of her lips. She liked the idea that Roman was always her dance partner, then she sighed and tried to ignore her sadder thoughts.

Rand

“I knew nobody beyond my own party.” Roman smiled a little when she leaned her head against him. Unfortunately, the smile made itself heard in the line, where no smile should be present. That was okay, Roman wasn’t perfect. He’d done perhaps one acting class in secondary school.

~ Roman

“True, and nobody can be introduced in a ballroom.” Then out of somewhere Rand spoke with the most perfect queen’s English as to make Roman think his own grandmother stood there as she spoke for Lady Catherine, “Fitzwilliam! Come here and talk to us!”

Rand

The accent was so on point, so… Old posh British lady, that Roman visibly flinched and looked down at her. Momentarily his emotions were mixed, and then turned to joy at the return of one of her fantastic acting voices. He smiled again, and then looked to the script for his own next line: “I do not have the talent of conversing easily with people I have never met before.” It was very true for Roman as well, he had never been good at conversing with those he did not already know. That was one of the things Jay excelled at, and dragged Roman into. The thought dredged up his memories, a painful reminder of what day it was. As if he were working on the lab, he hid his reaction save for the catch in his breath, not wanting to stop Rand practicing.

~ Roman

Rand’s voice returned to normal, her own, nothing special about it except her Scottish lilt that had been more pronounced since the attack. “Maybe you should take your aunt’s advice and practice.” It was meant to be scathing, a reprimanded on Darcy’s manners. She heard the catch and looked up at him, eyes full of worry. “Did…did I dddo something wrong?”

Rand

“No.” His voice came out soft and quiet, and a little husky. He took a deep breath and forced another smile. “You’re doing everything perfectly.” He had to flip the page again and went on with Darcy’s line in the next scene: “This is a charming house. believe my aunt did a great deal to it when Mr Collins first arrived.”

~ Roman

She was not doing everything perfectly, and they both knew it. It was very sweet of Roman to say so though. It was that or Roman had a horrible standard of what decent acting was. I believe so – and she could not have bestowed her kindness on a more grateful subject.” Confusion at Roman’s statement colored her voice, much as Darcy’s behavior colored Elizabeth’s. She wanted to do well for him, to be better. He was certainly putting on a better performance than she was.

Rand

Roman was doing it for her. Hoping desperately that doing this enough would bring back her memories, give her back her favorite activity. There was a pause, because the directions said there was supposed to be one. “Mr Collins seems very fortunate in his choice of wife.”

~ Roman

Randy would tell him, eventually it would help, it had, not quite the way Roman or Randy would have wanted, but it was. It would be weeks before it was noticable though. “He is indeed lucky to have found one of the few sensible women who would have accepted him.” Rand paused after reading, and looked up at him again, a question and a smile in her gaze. Reciting the line but also asking if he wanted her to make tea. “Shall I call for some tea?”

Rand

“No. Thank you.” That was the line but Roman was nodding, answering the secondary question with a yes. Continuing his Darcy impression, he said, “The coffee of Scotland, actually.” Then he finished the line, “Good day, Miss Bennet. It’s been a pleasure.” He flipped to the next scene. Darcy’s first proposal.

It took Rand several minutes. Standing made her light headed. Randy had actually left the water heating and tea infusers already in cups. Rand leaned heavily on the counter. She didn’t trust herself to carry bith cups at once. She burned her hand when she splashed the water because her hand shook. Nerves and worry more than her head. Her hand was quite red but not blistered.

Roman saw her spill. He needed to get up to help her. It was going to be a slow process and that bothered him. He sat up, and then stood, hand on the side table, and then began to slowly move across the room, fighting his lightheadedness. “Rand, are you okay? That water had to have been hot.”

She was holding the now hot cup in her good hand and trying to steady herself against the wall with the other. She leaned against the wall and held her hand out to him. It was very red and dry from how hot the water was but luckily not blistered. It burned awful at first but now it stung. Her eyes were watering from it, but most likely she would be okay in the morning. “I think so. I didn’t mean to spill it.”

Roman leaned heavily on the counter. “I know. It’s okay.” He looked at her hand. It was red and from her face it must have hurt but it looked fine. “I think you’re okay.” Then he hugged her, putting some of his weight on her as a support. “Do you want help making it?”

Roman was leaning on her as much as she was on him. She stayed there a moment. Her hand resting at an odd angle, burn up, against his chest. She nodded, “Please. I just don’t know how we’ll carry them.” She didn’t want to call Randy. He would want to know if she read lines, want her to try for him too, ask all kinds of questions about it. Lids…she had forgotten to put lids on the cups. She looked around the counter for them.

“We’ll figure it out.” Roman said. Of course, that meant he’d try to do it himself. He found the lids, placed one on each cup, and then lifted both.

Rand took hers in her good hand. That way Roman had a free hand to steady himself. She wasn’t worried about herself, though she should be careful. It was rather a comedy of errors as they slowly and much stumbling finally we’re settled on the bed.

When Rand had sat back down, he continued, “Miss Bennet, I have struggled in vain but I can bear it no longer… The past months have been a torment.” There was a pause in the stage directions. “I came to Rosings with the single object of seeing you… I had to see you…”

~ Roman

“Me?”

Rand

“I’ve fought against my better judgement, my family’s expectation… The inferiority of your birth… My rank and circumstance… all those things… but I’m willing to put them aside… and ask you to end my agony.” There was real emotion in the line. His real family would expect him to consider those thing. They hadn’t been a consideration. He hadn’t cared about ‘circumstance of birth’, rank, or anything else. He never had. Darcy was different in that way. He’d had to learn to get over himself much later than Roman.

~ Roman

“I don’t understand.” Rand suddenly had a horrible feeling in her chest like her heart was breaking, but she wasn’t sure why.

Rand

“I love you. Most ardently.” A long pause. He enjoyed that line. He got to tell Rand he loved her… Using the quote he’d done it with originally. “Please do me the honour of accepting my hand.” Darn. He should’ve used that at the proposal. Oh well. Rand had loved it so much blue was basically her new favorite color.

~ Roman

Rand snuggled in close, blushing gently, totally enthralled. Yes, most unequivocally yes. Rand loved him without reservation. The weight of the ring on her finger was safety and made her feel on cloud 9.

Something about the scene made her voice shake. “Sir, I appreciate the struggle you have been through, and I am very sorry to have caused you pain. Believe me, it…” Rand began to shake her head as the jist of the scene surfaced. “I… c c can’t say that to you.”

Rand

Roman looked down at her, another one of those loving robin hood hybrid looks. “I’m impossible to turn down, am I?” He was teasing her, but as soon as he said it he hugged her tight with both arms. “We can skip the rest of that scene if you want.” It was a reminder of the ring she had given him. A smooth, black, weighty ring around his finger. He’d already grown used to wearing it.

~ Roman

Rand smiled, “Completely.” She kissed him briefly, shy and hesitant, troubled. Then she pressed her face into his chest. She nodded, “Skip it.” She waited while Roman skipped forward and then turned her head, still laying against his chest, arms holding on to him. Elizabeth was caught watching Darcy and his sister. She is in his home after having horribly refusing him. It doesn’t seem right, Elizabeth wasn’t in the house, was she? She skims the notes, but all it says is Elizabeth is ashamed to be caught in his home.

Rand

Roman kissed her back, keeping her tightly embraced in his arms. When she tucked her head into him, he flipped the page onto the next scene with both of them. In the screen version, and the live performance as well, Elizabeth was caught inside. So Roman did not notice Rand’s confusion. He read the first line of the scene, looking down at Rand with that adoring look, “Miss Bennett!”

~ Roman

Here Rand’s nerves helped. She could easily imagine being discovered, innocently, in Roman’s quarters when she wasn’t expected. Heat suffused her as she remembered several times that had happened. “I thought you were in London.”

Rand

“No… I’m not.” Stating the obvious. Another page out of the Roman Is Nervous playbook. He read ahead in the scene, preparing the lines in his head. In the next part, after Elizabeth’s line and then another awkward pause, they started to speak at the same time. He waited for Rand again.

~ Roman

Scenes where she had to speak in tandem had always been problematic for Rand until she learned to not listen to the other person. She would stammer and studder and say their lines instead of her own. So it was trying to speak these. “No.”

ELIZABETH
We wouldn’t have a day early come -

ELIZABETH
I’m so terribly buisiness with sorry -

Rand bit her lip and cleared her throat and tried again, going slower helped.

ELIZABETH
We wouldn’t have come -

ELIZABETH
I’m so terribly sorry -

Then after the awkward pause Rand continued. “I’m visiting Derbyshire with my uncle and aunt.”

Rand

Roman spoke with Rand, repeating when she did. His trying to speak in tandem with her was not perfect, he didn’t mind. He was no actor nor did he plan to be in anything. Just these little line reading with Rand.

DARCY
I came here a day early -

DARCY
– some business with my steward

After her next line he followed up with his next one: “And are you having a pleasant trip?”

~ Roman

“Very pleasant. Tomorrow we go to Matlock.” Rand imagined Elizabeth was not having a pleasant trip at all. How could she go to Darcy’s home after refusing him? Rand could never do such a thing, even if Roman was not home, and the house vacant. How must Darcy feel seeing g her in his home, where he had hoped to share with her as his wife?

Rand

Roman put the lense of his family on the issue, considering it for himself. Being rejected was a grave offense. Especially for someone like Darcy, who had, in his mind ‘stooped’ to someone ‘beneath’ him and was still rejected. Yet he still very clearly had feelings for her. It was an incredibly awkward scene. The house was open for visitors, Roman didn’t think he’d care if one of them happened to be someone who’d rejected him. He’d just prefer not to have to see them. “Tomorrow? Are you staying at Larnbton?”

~ Roman

“Yes. At the Rose and Crown.” Rand paused, curling closer to him. The gaps, that black nothingness of her memories heartbreaking and frightening. Still they would not return. She didn’t want to do this. Not when Roman was putting so much effort to the activity and he own participation was dismally pathetic. “I’m so sorry to intrude. They said the house was open for visitors. I had no idea…”

Rand

“May I see you to the village?” Roman hugged her again when she curled into him. He didn’t care how abysmal her reading was. It didn’t matter to him, and it wasn’t terrible. It just wasn’t her usual perfection. To him, it made up for some of those nights she’d used her voices to put him to sleep. Now he was trying to use his to help her.

~ Roman

“Oh no! I am very fond of walking.” This sounded flat, there were so many notes scrawled about the page, Rand couldn’t decipher them all. Roman’s voice did help. He was the perfect Mr Darcy and he was doing exceptionally.

Rand

“Yes.” Another slightly awkward answer from Darcy. Rand’s line was flat, again, Roman didn’t care. He found it interesting to read the scrawled notes across the edges of the page. They meant little to him, but they were all clearly Rand’s, to help herself do the scene how she was supposed to, the best that she could.

~ Roman

Some of the notes even referenced events from her life. They would have very little meaning to Roman unless they were specific enough to remind him of one of her stories. The note here, however, read ‘she is running away like I do.’ Then ‘final good bye, she intends to never see nor speak of him again - only now beginning to feel the knowledge of the love that she destroyed.’ Rand’s voice caught on the words. “Goodbye, Mr. Darcy.” And the scene ended with Elizabeth fleeing Pemberly as calmly as she could manage and Darcy longing after her.

Rand

The notes were sad. Still, he liked reading them. He bookmarked it in his mind - if for some reason they were ever separated, he could read her scripts to remind himself of her. Roman skipped ahead again and started with this line: “Your uncle is fond of fishing, I hear.”

~ Roman

Rand had to read back again, drawing a blank as to the particulars. She sighed, frustrated and a tad despondent. It said Darcy had come to rescue Elizabeth, but from what? Rand read back and she blinked at the page -he was saving her from an awkward social interaction.”Yes, very.”

Rand

“Can you persuade him to borrow a rod this afternoon?” Fishing. What a barbaric hobby. Those poor fish! It was very common for the era and all the way through the 21st century though. Something very mundane for Darcy to ask her about.

~ Roman

Rand’s family still fished, but never for sport. And the time period of the play it was the same. It was sport of a sorts, like shooting, but the game was kept for food. It was not waisted. It seemed barbaric now, but it had its place in history as a necessary skill.

Lizzie moves off to speak to her uncle, and the scene is followed by a rather enlightening interlude between Darcy and Miss Bingley. This scene makes it clear that Darcy’s opinion and affections toward Elizabeth have not changed, but he is supremely put out by Miss Bingley and her attitudes and even corrects her. Elizabeth is to gaze on Darcy with confusion and gratitude at his rescue. The notes here are extremely personal, as Rand wondered what it would be like to have someone who genuinely loved her enough to accept how shy she was and who would rescue her from situations that made her anxious. Rand did not read the notes, or she would have died of mortification knowing Roman had read it.

Roman was reading the notes… And he quietly blushed as his eyes made their way around the paper, taking them all in. He had rescued her from awkward situations and situations that made her anxious. He had sat beside her while she had a panic attack in the lab and he had waited for her when she was being shy and unsure about things. Was he… essentially her dream guy? How cute was that.

The scene is followed by Elizabeth and Darcy in the front as Darcy drives them back to the inn, her aunt and uncle in the seat behind. “It is so beautiful up here. I will be sorry to leave. You have been a most gracious host. I’m sure my aunt and uncle will talk of nothing else for days.”

Rand

“I have recently thought a great deal about how I appear and act to others.”

~ Roman

Rand was supposed to smile at him, and she did. Then looked puzzled and blushed furiously because he was giving her the trangest look. Not quite his Robin Hood look, but…like…well it made her feel like he didn’t see anyone but her. The line came out soft and brwathless, without her havingvto look at the scriptvto double check. “It does you credit, Sir.”

Rand