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Assistant: Title: Decidedly Different
        Author: bennetsbonnet bennetsbonnet 
        Chapter: 2/2 
        Summary: Fitzwilliam Darcy has long been aware that he is not at all like his peers. While his 'difference' has been the cause of many struggles, it has also undoubtedly made him into the man who was capable of capturing Elizabeth Bennet's heart. When viewed in such a light, perhaps his 'difference' is no deficiency at all. Instead, it may prove to be his greatest asset...
        Contents: Chapter 2
    

    


      
        
          
          (See the end of the chapter for  notes.)
          
      
  

  
  
    
    
  At first, the gentle, feather-light touch on his arm made him flinch and recoil in horror. But when, at length, Darcy eventually opened his eyes, he was relieved to discover that he was no longer suffering alone in a stuffy ball-room in town. 

  The delicate, reassuring touch of her small hand against his arm had brought Darcy back to his senses. 

  With relief, Darcy realised that he was not enduring an excruciating evening alone in that exclusive establishment. It seemed that in his distress at his present surroundings, his thoughts had flitted back to dwell on unpleasant memories from before he was acquainted with the remarkable lady who had changed everything for him. Despite their unpleasantness, they were just that—memories.

  For Mr Darcy was in the familiar surroundings of his home, at Pemberley, with his wife by his side. 

  In Elizabeth’s dark eyes, that held such depths of love within them, Darcy felt reassured. He knew that, despite the discomfort he would never be able to shake off in attending a ball, with this formidable woman by his side, he would be equal to any challenge which stood before him.

  While he continued to take little pleasure in this particular form of social engagement, he had agreed to Elizabeth’s entreaty to host a summer ball at Pemberley. Such an event had not been seen since that long ago time when his mother was alive and healthful. Darcy himself had been barely out of the nursery himself, he recalled being particularly distraught when Lady Anne Darcy had informed her darling son that he was too young to attend. She reassured him, in the kindest of tones, that he would one day be able to stand up at a ball and dance with a woman he loved—his future wife.

  It wounded him greatly that his mother was not here to see that her prophecy for her son had been fulfilled. Darcy knew that she would have been delighted with the woman he had selected to be his life’s partner. Elizabeth was so easily charming, Darcy knew that his mother would have been immediately taken in by her, just as her son had been. These reflections caused him to feel Lady Anne Darcy’s absence keenly tonight, as he did his father’s. The late Mr Darcy had been much adored, for he was all that was benevolent and amiable. Darcy had been blessed with parents that doted upon him, even to the point of spoiling him. Although his father’s intentions in teaching him such principles had been noble, it did not make the conceited boy into an amiable man. 

  Most children taught similar lessons would have the sense not to take each teaching and principle, to follow it so devotedly that it brought pain to others. He blanched when he considered how conceited he had been, to offer up his opinions so freely at Netherfield in such a pretentious manner;  to boast of the implacability of his resentments; of his having an unforgiving temper; of what he considered to constitute a truly accomplished woman; of considering the appearance of humility to be the height of deceit in his public criticism of Bingley. It was no wonder that Elizabeth had rejected him, when he made such an ill-conceived proposal in Kent. How pig-headed he had been!

  His mind threatened to veer in an unpleasant direction, but Darcy was again prevented from dwelling on those miserable regrets by the soothing motion of Elizabeth’s hand against his arm. The mistress of Pemberley possessed many responsibilities in caring for the estate and tenants who lived on it. Amongst all of those duties, she had come to understand that she must keep a keen eye on her husband and monitor him for signs of unease in such situations. It was a duty she took seriously and devotedly; Darcy was once again reminded of his fortitude in making such a match. She cared for him more deeply than any single person had throughout the course of his life.

  Elizabeth gave his arm a reassuring squeeze, and Darcy smiled at his radiant wife. He could not be despondent when so much beauty was before him. Elizabeth looked resplendent in her gown, which she had been fitted for during their most recent visit to town. News of her current condition, which had been discovered only after their return to Derbyshire, had made Elizabeth anxious that her dress would no longer fit her. Thankfully, though her figure had changed slightly, evidence of the life she nurtured within her, it was noticeable to none other than the master and mistress that Pemberley would have an addition come winter.

  Since he had discovered that was to be a father, Darcy had been contending with a great many emotions. He was anxious for Elizabeth’s health—Darcy had encouraged her to delegate preparations for the ball to their numerous staff but his wife, as always, was headstrong and determined—as much as he was anxious to meet his child. But most of all, Darcy was conscious of the responsibility that would be placed upon his shoulders.

  The notion of successfully raising a child daunted him.

  Despite his experience with his guardianship of Georgiana and frequent reassurances from his lovely Elizabeth that fatherhood would become him, Darcy worried that he would pass on his affliction to his child. Though he was certain that with a mother as formidable as Elizabeth, the addition to their little family would prove to have vast reserves of self-confidence. Anyone admitted to the privilege of being on intimate terms with Elizabeth Darcy could do nothing other than be struck with a sense that their lives had materially improved. 

  Darcy knew that, in him, his child would have nothing but a patient and understanding father, who would never make his offspring feel that to be different was to be inferior. 

  For Darcy now understood that his ‘difference’ was his strength.

  Although his mind’s method of operation had initially led him down a prideful path, he believed that it was also its functioning that had given him the opportunity to turn his anger to take a proper direction—towards himself. 

  Till that moment, when his Elizabeth had laid bare his faults at Hunsford Parsonage, Fitzwilliam Darcy never knew himself. He had unwittingly become all he abhorred, and would have continued to be so without the reproof he so richly deserved. 

  True, his immediate response had not been the most sagacious.

  But the letter he had written had been his choice method, precisely because he found speaking in such circumstances to be tremendously difficult and bordering on impossible. At least with his quill in his hand, Darcy had been granted some time to carefully consider his words. Though, he had—in the months which had followed—reflected that he had not been the calm, cool man he had supposed himself to be at the time. The memory of the words he had put to paper brought him a great deal of pain, for some passages had been written in a dreadful bitterness of spirit. 

  Yet, Elizabeth clearly had not shared his dim view of his writing. If she had, he knew that she would not be standing here with him presently.

  In improving her opinion of him, Darcy knew that his condition had aided him. For, if his brain did not function in such an unusual manner, he would not have possessed the capacity to reflect on his behaviour and evolve into the man worthy of capturing Elizabeth’s heart. Like so many men, he would have directed his rage at the woman who had pointed it out; rather than at the correct recipient, that being the man who had ever caused her to speak so harshly in the first place.

  For almost eight and twenty years, he had been oblivious to his shortcomings, so convinced that he was justified in his general suspicion of all those besides his intimate acquaintances. Such he would have continued, were it not for the vivacious woman from Hertfordshire, who had entered his life and shown him the true error of his ways.

  Now, Elizabeth led him to the centre of the room, and he went willingly; with no care towards the many eyes trained upon him. He even smiled at some of them as he went, especially at Georgiana, who was not wanting for dance partners. His younger sister was blossoming into quite the accomplished young lady, growing ever more at ease within herself. Darcy could not have been prouder of her.

  Darcy beamed in anticipation. Dancing with his wife brought him tremendous enjoyment and comfort, he no longer looked for excuses to avoid taking his place in the set. Even if it were not the done thing to dance at b@lls once wed, the Darcys paid that convention little mind. Their haphazard courtship meant they had much lost time to make up for. And ever since they had returned to Derbyshire as man and wife, they had certainly made the most of making up for those precious lost moments; for there was scarcely an evening when they did not dance together.

  If Georgiana was growing tired of how frequently she was appealed to, over the course of the many evenings they had spent at Pemberley since that happiest of days, for providing musical accompaniment on the pianoforte for the reels her brother longed to dance with his bride, she did not allow it to show on her countenance and bore the requests admirably. Darcy often caught his beloved little sister gazing at them adoringly as they danced in the music room, and he dearly hoped that she would one day enjoy a love as profound as that which he enjoyed with Elizabeth.

  As the set commenced, Darcy was struck by the notion that, now, he 
  
    was 
  
  that stranger to himself. He was quite comfortable dancing with Elizabeth, even in the company of many strangers. Though he realised he had not altered in fundamentals, the ability to be more at ease in his own skin and express himself more favourably to those he was unfamiliar with was undoubtedly thanks to the woman who twirled beside him now as they danced together. 

  Elizabeth had done a great deal for him. With her love, she had made Darcy into the best version of himself that he could have ever possibly hoped to have been. It was a debt that he knew he had little hope of ever repaying in full, though he hoped a lifetime of adoring his beloved Mrs Darcy would suffice. And he was all too conscious of the fact that he could so easily have continued without correction, unwittingly occasioning pain to unwitting parties.

  Though life without Elizabeth was now unthinkable, and though his struggles manifested in new and, occasionally, frightening ways—such as on those occasions when he could not speak and it felt as though his expansive vocabulary entirely deserted him—he would not change that part of him for the world. While Darcy knew that he would always find conversing with strangers difficult and brightly-lit ball-rooms to be uncomfortable, it was a worthy price to pay for the advantages bestowed upon him.

  For he knew that to be different was—in many respects—a gift, and Darcy was determined that he would not squander that blessing, for it had brought him the greatest treasure of all—his dearest, loveliest Elizabeth. 

  
  

    
      
        
        
          In conclusion:Georgiana’s special interest: music.Darcy’s special interest: WIFE!I get it. I'd be obsessed with her too. Jokes aside, I hope you enjoyed this piece! I wanted to get into Darcy’s head a bit more with this one. I was inspired to write this on a recent reread of P&P. The line I highlighted from chapter 31 at the beginning of the piece, to me, shows that Darcy is fully aware of his shortcomings but doesn't know how to remedy them, which is such a common feature of the autistic experience. A sensation of being an alien is familiar to me. It's common in many neurodivergent people. As for how to overcome that feeling, I'm still trying to find the answer myself. I think surrounding yourself with understanding people and lowering your expectations for what you can manage helps. And, of course, taking out your struggles on fictional characters.I think only upon rereading, you realise how much he was really trying to make an effort with Elizabeth. It wasn’t always great conversation or appreciated by her, but he really speaks to her more than he does anyone else. And, once confronted, he seems embarrassed that his behaviour had been so off-putting and genuinely WANTS to change for the better. But I imagine that the sense of struggling perhaps never disappears for him, even after his marriage to Elizabeth.Autistic people have always existed. We didn't have a name for it until recently, but it stands to reason that the Regency Era was full of people who went through the same difficulties as we encounter in the modern world, which I personally find immensely comforting. With its rigid social norms, I sometimes think that I would have fared considerably better if I was around back then. Then again, I've always somewhat gone against expectations, so perhaps not!If you disagree with my interpretation of Darcy’s character, that is absolutely fine! Part of the joy of fanfic is exploring different aspects of characters we love. No two people will ever view him in exactly the same light. Please remember that fictional characters are not real people and thus cannot be harmed by any retrospective armchair diagnoses more than two centuries after they first appeared in print, whereas real people with real disabilities can be hurt by the way people respond to these headcanons.I don’t think Austen intended to write him as autistic, but perhaps her greatest strength, to me, has always been the way she was able to observe those around her and paint their quirks in a humorous light. That’s what makes her works so relatable and it does stand to reason that she would have encountered some autistic people in her time.I have encountered sentiments in previous discussions concerning Darcy potentially being autistic, where some have insisted he cannot possibly be because he is a competent manager of his estate, a good brother to Georgiana and successfully courts Elizabeth. Just think about that for a moment! It’s a ridiculous sentiment and really quite harmful. Autistic people do all of those things every single day. We pursue careers, care about our families and maintain loving relationships. It can be a struggle, but it is very much possible.Furthermore, in chapter 41, Elizabeth tells Wickham that, ‘in essentials, I believe, [Darcy] is very much what he ever was,’ which some have taken as indication that he cannot possibly be autistic, because autistic people obviously cannot ever change or grow (!!!)In fact, I think Darcy not fundamentally changing is even more evidence, that he could be autistic, not less reason to view him as such. If he were merely an arrogant, unkind man, could he really be reformed so quickly? I don’t think so. But a truly mean spirit or vindictive character has never been his problem. Rather, I think Elizabeth pointing out the way he makes others feel makes him conscious of how he interacts with others in a way he maybe never has considered previously.Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be the first boy on the spectrum to grow up without being made aware of how damaging his behaviour is to others!I hope my fellow Autistic Austen Enthusiasts™ enjoyed this piece and you found some representation and, perhaps, even comfort in it.Having a different brain is in many ways disabling, but we also have many strengths and qualities that make us quite remarkable people, even if the world does not always treat us as such. That’s the conclusion Darcy came to, to view his difference as his strength.Oops, I accidentally wrote another essay here, but thanks so much for reading. I would love to hear your thoughts should you wish to share them! I hope you liked it as much as I enjoyed writing it.What’s next for me? I’ll be posting a little something to commemorate the 212th anniversary of the most delightful book ever put to print, which is now only ten days away! But until then, take care of yourself :)'
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