Of Lorenz Theory & Love

Jimmy & Darcy: The Darkest Hour & The Missive

Charmed CW characters belong to Charmed CW. Denis and Tera, Darcy, Della, and Dora Valensi are my imagination at work. Light research was conducted for context.

15 Jimmy & Darcy: The Darkest Hour & The Missive

11:35 pm, Oldham, Greater Manchester, The Mauve Flat, July 31, 1941

"Amor vincit omnia. Love conquers all," Darcy read the inscription Jimmy had carved into her ring.

"Exactly. Amor vincit omnia." He kissed her forehead, as they hugged each other closely, waiting as steadfastly as one might for midnight to approach.

Midnight, Oldham, Greater Manchester, The Mauve Flat, August 1, 1941

Darcy and Jimmy's cheerful reverie was abruptly punctured by a sudden knock at the front door. Jimmy begged her to stay put—surely nothing good could possibly come at this hour—but Darcy insisted, after peeking through a crack in her bedroom door and noting the familiar black robes of none other than Elder Celeste gracing the entryway. Maybe she has an important message for me, she thought to herself.

Darcy left Jimmy in the bedroom, and closing the door, she made a path toward her front door when—

All of a sudden—

A horrifying CRASH and reverberating shower of windowpane glass could be heard, followed by a sharp yelp of pain, echoing into the murky abyss. Jimmy sprang up from where he was on the bed, but it was impossible for him to walk in a solidly straight line. The earth trembled beneath Jimmy's feet, and he balanced himself unsteadily, catching damask-hued tchotchkes that fell from the overhead shelves, depositing them back where they came. He imagined that if there was such a thing as the apocalypse, it had finally arrived at the Mauve Flat.

In the midst of the pandemonium, Jimmy remembered that he had somehow left his shoes just outside Darcy's bedroom, having been distracted by all of yesterday's happenings. He hurriedly yanked them on and ran toward the cry he heard moments earlier. "DARCY!" he bellowed with all his might. "DARCY!"

"Over...over here," he heard a voice whisper faintly. Jimmy followed the voice carefully into the shadowed corner of the flat, which led to Darcy, covered in what resembled a Snow Queen's blanket of icicles and snowdrifts, in the most theatrically exquisite and terrible way. A closer look revealed a grievous wound puncturing Darcy's abdomen, rendering her immobile. Jimmy, terrified beyond belief, nevertheless implicitly sensed that Darcy wanted to tell him something important, so he placed his ear toward her moving mouth, detecting its motion, its fluidity, remembering the warmth of her feathery kisses upon his cheek, knowing that soon, she would be no more, his tears involuntarily staining his cheek, and hers. "Important nightstand envelope. Yours." He nodded, understanding that she wanted him to have something of hers. Seconds passed by, air raid sirens now fully flashing and screaming into the darkness, akin to a perverse stop-motion animation.

"My valentine," Jimmy murmured, cradling her in his arms, as blood seeped from the savage wound, saturating the folds of her pleated white nightdress. He made as if to leave to gather Darcy's first aid kit from under her bed, but she shook her head; she knew it would be of no use. It felt as though time had slowed down—Jimmy paid attention to every part of Darcy's face, memorizing her contours, cheekbones and smile, her arching eyebrows. He deeply regretted not having taken a single photo of her during the entire time they had spent together at the Mauve Flat.

The minutes ticked by, and the shrieks of frightened children in the night, parents, grandparents, entire blocks were apparent to everyone but Jimmy, whose sole undivided focus was his dear, darling Darcy.

Summoning all of her remaining strength, Darcy looked Jimmy in the eye. "Amor vincit omnia" and with this final whisper, Darcy's soul departed her body.

6 am, Oldham, Greater Manchester, The Mauve Flat, August 1, 1941

Dawn was breaking. Jimmy had lost all concept of time, having stayed all night holding vigil at Darcy's side, even though her spirit had long since departed. Frozen in shock, and overcome by his emotions, he managed to cover her body, beautiful even in death, with a plum drapery, placing her regal-like form on the chaise sofa nearby.

Once he did that, he slowly made his way to her bedroom to retrieve the broom and dustpan, then commenced cleaning the floor of what he tried telling himself were shards of ice. Ice after a freak snowstorm. It was all he could do to not break down sobbing, every continuous second, of every minute, of every single hour. He tried to imagine for a moment, that maybe this all was in his imagination—that really, he had been in the middle of snowy weather in a purple-crested forest of unusual trees, with shards of ice drifting downward off of an adjoining cozy cottage, and that his fiancée Darcy was waiting for him inside with a cup of hot Earl Grey tea. But he knew better.

6:30 am, Oldham, Greater Manchester, The Mauve Flat, August 1, 1941

Jimmy, remembering Darcy's missive, proceeded to her nightstand drawer, where he found an envelope addressed to himself.

Curious, he opened it. The letter read as follows:

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Dear Jimmy,

The past few weeks have been the most amazingly enthralling, and you have made me the happiest I can ever remember. I so wish we could have had more sunrises, sunsets, weeks, months, years, decades together, but my time has come.

I have a favor to ask—please bring Matias home. You will judge me, I am sure, for society has all but done that. But I had no choice in any part of the matter, and I had to do what was best for him.

Your Val(entine) forever and always,

Darcy

Matias: Greenfield House Convent, Billinge, St Helen's, Manchester, England, UK

Home: Dora and Della Valensi (next of kin), Epicenter Pico, No.22, Azores Island

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Who was Matias?