Jump to new as of January 20, 2002

Part One

Summary: Based on the myth of Pygmalion and Galatea, the vain sculptor Will Darcy creates the perfect woman for himself, and promptly falls in love with her of course. A short story to get out of my imagination and give me peace. P&P

Will walked down the streets in a black mood. Villagers who normally greeted him kept silent upon seeing his dark, pensive face. In his absentmindedness, Will passed the shop door he was intending to visit. When he finally did look up and saw the fishmongers, he nearly cursed aloud before doing an abrupt about-turn and retracing his steps.

"What do you suppose is the matter?" one villager asked another.

"Dunno. Possibly a fight wit' t' Missus?"

"Don't be silly! He doesn't have a Missus. Right single that one is. Available. Free. For the taking. Fair play-"

"All right, woman. I get t' idea!"

Will was indeed 'fair play' to the matrons of the region. I say region and not just village because Will was a catch for any young lady. And catching him was exactly what every young lady had in mind. And... well... kidnapping and possibly even murdering him was what was on every young man's mind. And truth be told, the young men might have done just that, had it not been for Will's innocence in the whole affair. It wasn't exactly his fault if he was born the most handsome man in the region. It wasn't his fault if he had been given a gift- a talent- from the gods. He never sought attention. He was unassuming and kind and kept politely to himself. No... no young man could truly look him in the eye and find fault with Will. Instead, they found themselves in engaging conversation- much to their dismay. For they did so want to find fault with him. They wished they could find some excuse to kidnap him and send him onto a galley ship as a slave. But Will never made such a mistake. He went on living his own life as he wanted to, not giving thought to others.

Will entered the blacksmith's shop and waited more impatiently than usual for the blacksmith to cease pounding the metal on the anvil. When Mr. Smith had stopped to put the metal back into the furnace, Will cleared his throat.

Surprised, Mr. Smith turned to him. "Good day, Mr. Darcy," he cried.

Due to the incessant noise caused by his trade, Mr. Smith had got into the habit of talking loudly, and never seemed to find his way out of it.

"Ah suppose ye've come to pick up t' tool ye asked fer."

Will nodded.

"Well, Ah finished it jus' this mornin'. T' best metal and t' hardest wood."

Mr. Smith ambled over to his workbench and picked up a fine chisel. The one Will had used for years had finally broken. It was part of the reason for his current foul mood. Will took the tool from Mr. Smith's outstretched hand. He turned it over and over in his own hands, inspecting it, testing it, evaluating it. After a few minutes, he judged it to be a fine piece of work.

"How much do I owe you?" he asked.

"Well now, le's see. Twenty gold coins would jus' about cover 't."

Did I mention among Will's many attractive qualities, he's also rich?

Will handed Mr. Smith the money, and then said Good day to him. He walked back out into the sunlight, and paused in the street, wondering which way to go. While he was in the village, he may as well visit some of the temples. He'd been neglecting the gods too much to be considered safe. Will turned left and walked determinedly toward the temples at the outskirts of the village.

Since this was a small village, the temples could hardly be called that. They were more like small huts- but nice huts, made of stone and filled with incense and offerings. Upon reaching them, Will realized he didn't have an offering to give the gods. He looked around.

An old lady who had been keeping her eye on Will came up to him, and said in a feeble voice, "Would ye like to buy some incense, sir?"

Ah, how convenient! Will bought half a dozen sticks from the woman and entered the first temple. It was Mann's, God of the Heavens. A fire was burning low in the centre of the room. Around it was a moat of sand for people to place their incense. Will moved forward, lit two sticks of incense in the fire, and stuck them in the sand.

Beyond the fire stood a statue of Mann. The village had commissioned Will to carve the statue several years ago when he started to become more successful. Will couldn't refuse the commission even though he was busy doing several other projects for wealthier patrons. To turn it down could have been seen as a slight to Mann. It was an okay statue. Not one of his best, but certainly fitting for the small temple in this insignificant village. If it had been a statue for the central temple in Nikos, then more effort and time would have been spent on the statue.

The room smelled sickeningly sweet from the incense and the flowers people placed there. Will managed to sit for five minutes in reflection before his gag reflexes forced him out into the fresh air.

Will visited two more temples. Those of Benia, Goddess of the Sun, and Pyrus, God of the Arts. Pyrus was Will's patron god. He always treated him with more favour than the other gods.

Once Will had finished paying homage to the gods, he began the long walk home to his abode near the top of the mountain. It was quiet up there. He could work without being disturbed. It was also beautiful and clear, and Will felt that he was always more inspired there than anywhere else. Maybe it was because he was closer to Pyrus, who lived in the Heavens with most of the other gods. Whatever the reason, it certainly kept all the matchmaking matrons away from his home. Most of them were so fat they couldn't even make it up the mountain anyway.

Forty-five minutes later, Will entered his studio, slamming the door behind him. A new shipment of beautiful marble had been delivered in his absence. He had three commissions, and one extra block to use at his leisure. It was to this last block he turned his attention. It was of the purest white. Very expensive, high quality marble probably smuggled into his country from the quarries of Solin. Will knew his conscience should have a problem with importing stone from a country his own nation was at war with, but it didn't. There simply wasn't marble good enough for his work in his own country. It had to be imported. And Will never used anything but the best.

Maybe at this point I should explain Will's one minor flaw. Deep down, Will was vain. He knew he was the most handsome man in the region. He knew he was the best sculptor in the country. And he knew he was rich. The reason why Will had turned down every proposed match was because none of the maidens were pretty enough to turn his eye. He never said this of course. He professed to be searching for true love. Meanwhile, he spent his days and nights alone with his work. Only his housekeeper, Dame Kendra, saw him in his home. She tidied up after him and made sure he was fed and had everything he needed.

Will surveyed the block of marble critically. Each piece of stone had some form hidden within that was yearning to get out. Will saw it as his task to reveal and free that hidden form from its prison. The trick was to see what the hidden form was.

For two days, Will didn't touch the block of white marble, while he studied it and tried to find out its secrets. This was longer than it had ever taken him before. Finally, on the third evening, Will saw within the marble the most beautiful maiden he had ever beheld or imagined. She was perfect in every way. Without hesitation, Will picked up his new chisel and his hammer and began to chip away at her confines.

For two weeks Will worked on the maiden, little by little revealing her beautiful body. He left the head for last so her striking face would not distract him as he worked. At last, he finished the statue, and stood back to survey his work. He had certainly done her justice. She was flawless in every way. It made his heart ache that such a breathtaking figure was doomed to remain in stone for all eternity. Here was one maiden worthy of Will Darcy's attentions, and it was not possible.

Will moved the maiden to the corner of his studio so he could keep an eye on her as he worked on the commissions he had neglected while he formed her. He decided to name her Galatea and would talk to her occasionally as he worked.

As the weeks passed, Will began to talk to her more and more. Addressing her as if she were a real person. She never responded of course, but Will imagined he could hear her bell-like voice praising his work and complimenting his person. Will's admiration and affection for Galatea grew each passing day, until he decided to take a desperate measure and visit Shahday, goddess of Love.

Shahday's temple stood in the village with the rest of the temples. However Will had never visited hers before. He never saw the need to, really. Now, he entered the temple with a quaking heart and pleading look upon his handsome face. He placed the roses he had bought upon the altar, and kneeling down, he lit and planted the expensive incense. He stayed knelt, bowing his head, and prayed to Shahday for relief.

Shahday watched the proceedings with great interest. Her current lover shifted slightly in their bed and asked her what was so amusing. Shahday's painfully beautiful face turned to him, the amused smile still gracing the divine features.

"It seems, handsome Will Darcy has come to ask for my aid!" she laughed.

"What is so funny about that? Countless young men beg for your aid," he replied.

"Ah, but not the high and mighty Will Darcy, who could have any mortal he wanted."

"What does he ask of you, then?"

"It seems," she replied, laughing harder now. "It seems that he has fallen in love with a statue! Of his own creation no less!"

The irony of the situation was not lost on even this dimwitted god. He was drop-dead gorgeous to be sure, but lacked any brains.

"What do you intend to do?" he asked.

Shahday looked down at Will again in contemplation. "I cannot toss him aside like any other mortal."

"Why is that?"

"Because when his village asked him to carve a statue of my beautiful person for my temple, he declined graciously saying that no mortal sculptor could possibly do justice to my figure, and would be an insult to try. It is so flattering that I simply must do something to help him. Yet I feel I must teach this vain man a lesson."

Shahday lay on the pillows in deep thought for some while. Suddenly, she had an idea. Turning onto her stomach again, she gazed fondly down at Will, still bowed in supplication. "All right, my handsome mortal," she murmured. "I shall grant you what your heart most desires."

Will slowly walked home to his cottage and studio upon the mountaintop. He gloomily walked into his studio and glanced at Galatea in case of the slight chance that something had happened while he was gone. But she stood as she did every day. In a depressed state, Will went straight to bed.

The following day, Will worked harder than ever on his latest commission: a nude slave in chains leaning on a post. He only stopped once when Dame Kendra made him eat. By dusk, Will's arms were aching and his back was sore. He set his tools down and turned away from the work. It ceased to give him pleasure anymore.

He found himself facing Galatea. He hadn't spoken to her all day. Now he walked towards her and gazed upon her beautiful face. On an impulse, he leaned down and kissed her cold, marble lips. As he was about to pull away in embarrassment, he felt warmth creep into the cold lips he touched. They moved and the kiss deepened. Will didn't even stop to think. He wrapped his arms around the now warm body. He must be dreaming. Or hallucinating.

Suddenly the embrace was broken and a sharp slap crossed his cheek. In complete utter shock, Will backed away, raising a hand to his stinging face. He looked up at Galatea.

She stood with her hands on her hips scowling. "Who said you could do that?" she demanded in a voice that was not bell-like. It was deeper, huskier, but not unpleasant.

"I... I..." Will stuttered.

"Where were you raised? In a barn?"

"I... I..." Will couldn't for the life of him form a coherent thought.

Galatea suddenly realised she was naked. "Good Goddess!" she cried, and sunk to the floor hugging her knees to her body. "Well, what are you staring at? Pervert, go an bring me something to cover myself!" she snapped, turning a becoming shade of pink.

Will stumbled to bring her his cloak and wrap it around her nude form. She took it and held it tightly around her body, moving away from Will in distrust.

"Galatea!" he finally managed to sputter.

"The name's Elizabeth, if you don't mind!"

She was exactly as he had carved her, but in living color she no longer looked perfect. Her hair was mousy brown and brown freckles lightly dusted her cheeks and nose. Her eyes were a hazel color that currently flashed dangerously at him. She was a little taller than he had thought- too tall for his taste. She stood only an inch or two shorter than he did. And now that she had covered her perfect nude body, she looked only tolerable. What had he done?

Will was at a loss as to how to deal with this situation. "Who are you?" he asked.

Galatea raised an eyebrow. "I told you the name's Elizabeth."

"But- but how did you come to be?"

"You made me."

"You're supposed to be stone."

"Well, you must have done something stupid like wish I were real. Did you?"

"Maybe," Will said with a nonchalant shrug.

"So you can answer your own questions. Now. What are you going to do with me?"

That was a good question. Will didn't know the answer, either. In his dreams he would sweep her off her feet and marry her, but in his dreams she was supposed to be perfect. So now what?

"I guess I'll have Dame Kendra make you up a bed in one of the rooms."

"I'm not staying in a room all day! And I need clothes."

"Just tell Dame Kendra, she'll get you whatever you need."

Elizabeth took this as her dismissal. She was glad to go. As dignified as possible, she walked out of the studio, wrapping Will's cloak as tightly as possible to her body.

After she had left, Will sat down on a small stool and buried his head in his hands. "What have I done?" he whispered to himself, and ran his hands through his brown curls.

High up in the Heavens, Shahday was laughing cruelly at her clever ploy. She couldn't remember when being a goddess was so rewarding.

The next time Will saw Elizabeth, was when they both sat down for lunch the following day. Dame Kendra, who managed somehow to believe the yarn Elizabeth spun about being a visiting cousin who had lost her luggage in a flash flood, had cooked the meal for two, and provided Elizabeth with some feminine clothing.

They sat in silence eating their meal. Will couldn't look at her without comparing her with what he had dreamed she looked like. After the meal, Elizabeth disappeared into the cottage somewhere, and Will gratefully returned to the sanctuary of his studio.

Three hours later, Will became curious about what Elizabeth was doing. Had she run away? Could she run away? Did he want her to run away? He found her in his library reading with spectacles settled daintily upon her nose. When he walked in, she looked up over the spectacles, eyebrows raised in query. He stared at her for a minute, looked around at his library, seeing it just as he had left it, then settled his eyes on the title of her book. Geophysics. She was reading about geophysics. What could a woman possibly want to do with knowledge of that? Elizabeth must have seen the skeptical look on his face for her right eyebrow raised in a challenging gesture. Will turned and left the room.

Over the next few days, no words passed between the two people despite taking two meals a day together. Whenever Will wanted to know where she was, he had only to look in the library to find her reading through his collection of books, none of which he had ever expected to interest a woman.

One day, Will turned to pick up his chisel from his stool to find Elizabeth sitting there, her robes draped elegantly about her figure. She held the tool out to him, and said in an arch tone, "Did you know your proportion is off?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Will replied, and turned back to his work.

"Haven't you ever seen an eagle?"

"Of course."

"Up close?"

"This is my work! I wish you would kindly leave me alone!"

Elizabeth shrugged and left the studio. A day later, she returned carrying a dead eagle. She callously tossed it onto Will's workbench.

"What the devil are you doing, woman?" he cried, staring at the corpse.

"I said you're proportion is off. Look at the talons. They should be bigger. The beak should be smaller, and the tail should be longer. Your thing looks more like a hawk than an eagle."

Will stared at her with malice. "Kindly leave my studio at once!" he said in a dangerously low voice.

Elizabeth glared back and then left, slamming the wooden door behind her. Will was left staring at the dead bird. How did she kill it? Was she a goddess? Could she do whatever she pleased? Taking a closer look at the bird, he was thoroughly dismayed to see that she was right. His proportion was all wrong. Schiza. He would have to start all over again. With one swing of his arm, he sent the nearly complete eagle to the floor, not flinching as it shattered into millions of pieces.

Three more days passed without their speaking to each other. Will began to find her doing odd things about his cottage. Once he caught her carving an otter out of a piece of wood. Another time he saw her writing. At one time he happened to see her sewing clothes for herself, and she began to cook the meals for them both.

Will was suspicious. What did she mean by all these things? He wondered if she was trying to prove herself a good housewife by these tasks, but her scowl whenever he appeared dissuaded him from believing she was trying to prove anything to him. Indeed, she seemed to hold him in contempt if anything. And this, above all, irked him the most.

A month after Elizabeth's awakening, an invitation for a festival was issued to the whole village. Will thought attending the festival would be a good way of escaping Elizabeth's presence. Maybe he could find some girl to bring home to take Elizabeth's place. After considering that notion for two seconds, he threw it out the window.

Will learned from rumours in the village that the local merchant was bringing his niece to the festival. She was reputed to be the most beautiful maiden in the area. Will, who had yet to decide if he really wanted to attend the festival, was resolved on going when he heard this news. He figured this merchant's niece would certainly be perfect enough for him.

Unfortunately, Elizabeth somehow found out about the festival and insisted upon going.

"You're not going."

"Yes, I am."

"No, you're not."

"How can you stop me?"

"Well, since you are a guest in my house, and for that matter I don't know why you're still here since you're not welcome, and I decide whether you go to the festival or not."

"Nice try, but honestly, you had me convinced there for a minute that you were actually telling me you control my life. Because you don't!"

"I created you!"

"If you uncreate me, it will be murder. Plus I don't think Shahday would be very pleased."

"Are you her minion?"

"What? No! You just got what you wished for."

"You're not going and that's final!"

Elizabeth made her own festival attire. It was a beautiful golden colour that seemed to shimmer in the light. Small wildflowers were woven into the crown of her brown hair. Will resentfully waited until she was finished 'primping' before walking down the mountainside with her (at a respectable distance of course- he still had his pride).

Elizabeth was introduced to the people as Will's visiting cousin. She was soon taken off Will's hands as young men came to admire her. In the fire and candlelight, she was radiantly beautiful.

However Elizabeth was no rival for the merchant's daughter, Eloise. Eloise was indeed the most beautiful woman Will had ever beheld. She was a head and shoulders shorter than he was, she had long golden locks that cascaded down her back, she had blue eyes and a red pouting mouth, fair skin, a petite form, and a simpering manner.

Will had no difficulty in gaining an introduction. He bowed low to her, kissing her hand and enjoying her becoming blush.

"Would you like to join me in getting some refreshments?" he asked.

She smiled prettily in return and followed him to the long table covered in foodstuffs. She put a little bit of food on her plate and then sat beside Will.

Will enjoyed the looks of envy he received from some of the nearby gentlemen, but pretended he didn't see them. He kept up the nice, modest man for safety's sake as well as the allure it caused on women.

This woman, however, was not proving as desirable as Will had expected. She was visually, physically perfect in every way. But there was practically nothing inside of her mind. She had no opinions, no ideas of her own, and seemed to have been reared to cater to the needs of men. Will found himself repulsed to his own chagrin.

His eyes automatically sought for a glimpse of Elizabeth. He saw her off to the side with the lower class folk, dancing with her shoes off, whipping her skirts about her imperiously. She was a breathtaking sight.

Will caught himself looking and quickly turned his attention back to Eloise. Beautiful, dutiful, submissive Eloise.

"Hey, Will! Your cousin is a real pleasure. She's incredible."

Will looked up to see his closest rival, Hawkins. He was a man Will hated. He challenged Will's superiority, he attempted to win the girls from him (never succeeded, but just the attempt was annoying enough) and he tried to act like he was Will's friend the entire time.

"Will, did you just bring her here or are you her chaperone? Because if you're not I'd like to take care of her. I'll get her home before dawn... if you get my drift..." Hawkins winked suggestively at Will.

Will became infuriated. He leapt out of his chair and slammed Hawkins against a nearby tree. With his flashing eyes boring into his victim's, he growled, "Don't touch her. Don't lay one filthy hand on her."

Hawkins shrugged Will off. "All right, all right man I get it. She's some virgin sacrifice for the gods. No problem."

Will sat back down, now deep in black thoughts. He looked over at Elizabeth again, and saw her laughing heartily with two other women at a table. Will felt a pang of regret. He hoped it was regret. He was afraid it would be more serious than regret.

He turned his attention back to Eloise, and soon found this task to be impossible. As soon as he possibly could, he left the conversation. He escaped and found refuge in the darker shadows to watch Elizabeth unfettered.

By the end of the evening, Will was miserable. He fetched Elizabeth as soon as politeness allowed, and began to drag her away.

"Hey! I want to stay a little longer."

"You can't. You need to get home with me."

"Who says I'm going home after tonight?"

"Me, that's who. You may be very intelligent but you're also quite naïve."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard what I said."

"Yes, and I believe my tone was one of disbelief."

Will struggled to come up with a nice, polite, unsuspicious way of saying what he wanted to say. He failed. "Just come on home."

"No."

"Elizabeth!" he snapped. "A virtuous woman would be chaperoned. A virtuous woman would come home with me!"

Elizabeth looked like Will had slapped her in the face. Her eyes were cold and her face an angry, livid colour as she said in a dangerously low voice, "How virtuous could I be living unchaperoned in your home?"

She turned and ran off nimbly through the trees in the darkness.

"Elizabeth!" he called out after her. It was to no avail, she was gone.

Will tried to find her that night. He searched all through the olive groves and the town and at the festival, but she was not to be found. He slept in a barn that day and continued his search when he woke. He felt he could not return to his home without her. She was his responsibility. If something happened to her, he felt sure he would incur the wrath of Shahday.

When the sculptor could not find her that day, he went the following day to Hawkins' home to see if Elizabeth had, by some cruel fate, fallen into the hands of the cur. Hawkins, however, who could not tell a convincing lie, seemed to be telling the truth when he said he had not seen her since the festival. He was not sparing in his jibes and jeers toward Will, though.

Will finally returned to his home up the mountain, hoping that she had returned there. But instead, he found she had taken her things and left the place completely, leaving no trace of her ever being there.

Will took her leaving hard. He quickly realized how much he had come to value her presence in the house. He slowly turned inward, withdrew even more from the world, and threw himself into his work.

For five months Will hardly spoke to anyone. He kept expecting to be struck down by a lightning bolt or a golden arrow from Shahday. And he couldn't help but look for Elizabeth's return.

But it was no use. No one had heard word of her.

Will realized after these five months of agony, why exactly he was feeling this way over a girl he didn't even like. For some time he had thought it was because he had created her, and to have his own creation flee in such a way was damaging. He grew out of that phase soon enough, and came to realize that he had fallen in love with her, against his will and certainly against his better judgment (so said his ego). And now she was nowhere to be found and Will was stranded with a broken heart of all things.

Will thought he might be able to get her back if he carved her once again. But though he carved a statue almost identical to the first, it just wasn't Elizabeth. It was Galatea. And he didn't want Galatea, the perfect female creation. He wanted Elizabeth. Feisty, opinionated, vibrant, intelligent, creative Elizabeth. He even attempted a couple of busts, but he still could not seem to capture the essence that was Elizabeth into a stone carving.

Will's business, meanwhile, had grown, and he received a commission to do the bust of a successful Senator in the capitol. To do the work, he would have to travel the four-day journey to the metropolis.

Will rented an ass and cart, filling it with marble, tools, and personal belongings for the extended stay. He began the long journey to the metropolis, and spent most of it absentmindedly thinking of Elizabeth.

Senator Lucius asked Will, "Do you have something on your mind? I heard you were more open than this."

"Yes, I do. I apologize I am not up to my usual self."

"What is it? Are you thinking about another work?"

"Yes, but she's not my work."

"Ah. It's a woman."

"Yes, unfortunately."

The Senator was nice enough not to say anything, to jest about it nor to advise Will to move on. Will returned to his thoughts and his work.

Out of the corner of his eye, Will couldn't help but notice a head bobbing around the corner frequently. Under the pretense of picking up another tool, he discovered it was a lad in his adolescent years. But that was all he could see before the boy vanished.

The Senator grunted. "My son. Timothy. A little too nosy for his own good."

When Will had finished with having the Senator sit for him, Timothy became more daring. Staying for a few seconds longer before he vanished when Will looked at him. Finally, while his attention was still on the bust, Will said, "You can come and watch, you know. Instead of flitting about like a butterfly."

Half a minute later, a beet red Timothy sidled up to Will's left side to watch what he was doing. Will was mildly amused. He'd never encountered other people interested in his art like this. Usually people just liked to look at it. But to Will, sculpting was more than just to look at.

In silence Will worked for fifteen minutes. He noted how much Timothy seemed to take in, watching his every move. A couple of times, Timothy opened his mouth to say or ask something, but then closed it. The third time he did this, Will asked, "What?"

"Well, um, never mind."

"No, go ahead and ask me."

"How do you know which tool to use?"

"Practice and habit. It comes naturally after a while."

"But how did you learn in the first place?"

"My master taught me."

"Master?"

"Sure. Most artists are apprentices under a master. So when I was about your age, and I showed some promise, I was sent to learn the trade under a master. Then after I had had years of experience and training, I started to do some work of my own."

"How do you become an apprentice?"

"Usually parents put them up to it, but if the lad wants to badly enough, he can put himself into the favours of a master and possibly get chosen to be an apprentice."

"Oh."

Will returned to his work. Two minutes later, Timothy wanted to ask another question. Will answered it, and continued his work. Three more minutes of silence and Timothy had another one. Will patiently answered as best he could anything Timothy asked him. The boy seemed to have a natural inclination toward Will's art.

Finally Will decided he needed a break from the boy's inquisitive nature and from the bust. Coming back to it after a breather would give him a different perspective. He went out into the busy city streets to look around. He had only been to the metropolis once before several years ago. He didn't like it very much as a place to reside in. It was dirty, crowded, and noisy. But the architecture was exquisite, and the elevation of thought was higher than the country, and Will prided himself on being a bit of an intellectual as well as an artist.

Will entered one of the main market squares with colors flying everywhere from the columns to the stalls to the clothes of the peasants in from the country to sell their wares. Men and women called out bargains and deals, advertising at the top of their voices. Children and dogs ran under foot, wriggling through the sea of legs. Sunlight glinted off of the jewelry stall and the wine bottles sold at the winery stall. At the far end, a slave auction was going on, a man standing on the stage calling out the bids and appraising the prisoners of war standing in line to be sold. Those not sold into the private market would be put to work in the galleys or the mines. Slaves probably quarried the very stone Will used in his artwork. But there was something noble in the slaves standing on this particular stage. They were savages from the north, naked except for the torcs around their necks, hair and beards wild, heads held high in defiance, standing tall.

Will passed through the market looking at the wares. Three times he stopped and looked at something he knew Elizabeth would have liked. It frustrated him that he couldn't get her out of his head. She continued to pervade his thoughts frequently. He regretted all of his harsh treatment of her. He realized what an idiot he had been. She had every reason to leave him. He had given her nothing, how could he expect anything from her?

He left the market and turned down a fairly wide street heading towards the governmental buildings. He looked at the Senate and the Emperor's palace from afar. After he'd seen enough, he turned away, and headed toward a water fountain on the other side of the square. With mild interest, he noticed a man talking to a crowd in front of him. From what Will could hear, he was talking philosophy.

Then, he caught sight of the most beautiful woman he had ever set eyes on. She was perched on the elegant water fountain beside the philosopher, and she was looking at the speaker intently. Will stopped dead in his tracks and stared in pure agonizing disbelief. Her skin was tanned and her hair was pulled up onto the top of her head. She wore a sleeveless dress falling loosely over her tall, lithe frame. Her bare feet were tucked under her, her arms wrapped around her knees.

Will forgot to breathe as he stared at her longingly. She looked up and saw him staring. Will didn't look away. He just held her steady gaze. She didn't show surprise at seeing him. She just casually stood up and walked towards him. Will began to panic. He had so much he wanted to convey to her, to explain, to ask, to verify, but he couldn't do it at a moment's notice, especially when she began to turn his mind to mush.

"Hello," she said pleasantly.

"Hi." After everything he wanted to say, all he could speak was 'Hi'??

"How are you?"

"I'm getting by. And you? I've been worried about you since you vanished."

"You needn't have. I can take care of myself."

It was not the answer Will had been hoping for. He didn't know exactly what he wanted to hear, but that wasn't it. "You been here since you left?"

"Pretty much. It took me a week to get here."

"How are you keeping yourself?"

"I do odd jobs. Subsistence living, really."

Will became concerned for her. Subsistence living? He could provide for her so much better.

"Are you busy, or could I buy you dinner in the market?"

"Sure."

They turned and began walking toward the market. Will tried to quickly come up with something safe to say, but nothing seemed to be right. Finally, he gave in and said, "I missed you."

"Really?" she asked, surprised.

"I looked everywhere for you."

"I hid pretty well."

"Was I that bad?"

"Yeah."

"I've changed."

"Have you now?" she said.

"I'm not lying. I have changed a lot."

"Ok."

Will felt deflated and crushed. He didn't say anything after that. They entered the market square and found a stall selling sweetmeats and bread. Will paid for them and they wandered out of the market to somewhere quieter, eating along the way.

They found a quiet niche to sit down in. The afternoon light was fading.

Elizabeth then asked, "What are you doing here?"

"A bust for Senator Lucius."

"Ah. He's a good man."

"You know him?"

"I know of him. I know of nearly all the Senators. The man talking to the crowd when you first saw me- I'm a disciple of his. I'm learning from him and in turn I occasionally teach him something. Not often, though."

Will's heart began to sink further as she spoke. She was happy here. There was no reason why she should believe he had changed, no reason why she should return home with him.

They finished their food and Elizabeth stood up to go. "It was really nice seeing you again. I hope you'll drop by the next time you're in town."

"Elizabeth, wait," Will said. He gathered his courage. It was now or never. He had been looking for her for months and now he would lose his only chance if he didn't act fast. "I know you still think of me as a rude, conceited man, but believe me, your absence has wrought a change in me. I miss you so much it hurts. I love you. It took me so long to realize your worth and I kick myself daily for failing to see it. I love how you challenge me, I love your intelligence, I love your charm and vivacity, and I love to look at you. Please... could you give me a second chance?"

Elizabeth didn't look elated at his confession. Disturbed more like it. She crossed her arms over her chest and studied the cobblestones. "Will, I'm settled here. I'm happy, I'm learning so much everyday. I can't uproot and return at your whim now."

Will felt like the life had been squeezed out of him. He managed to nod. He looked away and took a deep breath with great difficulty. He had never hurt so much in his privileged life. As he stared off into the distance, trying to keep the tears from showing in his eyes, he said, "Well... if you ever need anything... anything... don't hesitate-" his throat choked up too much to continue.

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, then turned and walked away.

Second (And Final) Part

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, then turned and walked away.

He returned to the Senator's mansion and worked diligently on the bust. He wanted to leave, to go home, to retreat into his recluse's safe haven. But he had to finish the bust first. The impatience to finish it was detrimental to the artwork. So Will pulled away from the bust for a good while to get his emotions under control first. It was hard work. Timothy helped by distracting Will with his hundreds of questions.

Then Timothy asked him something that quite surprised him, though really it shouldn't have. It was obvious to all the rest of us what Timothy wanted.

"Mr. Darcy, could I be your apprentice?"

Will sat up. "Excuse me?"

"Well, you're a master, aren't you? So could I be your apprentice?"

"I've never had an apprentice before."

"Why not? You're one of the best sculptors in the empire."

It was true. And Will didn't know why he'd never had an apprentice before. It seemed only reasonable to pass on his knowledge to the next generation. Suddenly, Will had an idea. An absolutely marvelous idea. He figured out how he was going to win Elizabeth back. He would use Timothy. Not use him in a bad way, as in taking advantage. But he would utilize this lad's eagerness to please him, and his ideal location.

"Well, I'm not adverse to taking you on as an apprentice, but it'll take a while to arrange. You'd have to convince your parents that this is a good thing to do. I'm not sure how your father the Senator would take to it. Wouldn't he want you to follow in his footsteps?"

"Umm... maybe?"

"And then I have a few affairs I need to finish up."

"Oh."

"However, if you would like to serve me while we arrange your apprenticeship, I would be much more in favour of it."

"What could I do here?"

Will tried to discretely describe his predicament with Elizabeth. "I have this... friend, who has recently moved here. She is a disciple of Mocrates."

"Yeah, I've seen him around."

"If I send letters to you, could you find her and deliver them to her?"

"Probably. But I'd have to know what she looked like."

Will ordered Timothy to bring him some parchment. He sketched a likeness of Elizabeth from memory. He had sculpted her face thrice, so he could accurately portray her in a drawing. When he'd finished, he handed it to Timothy.

That evening, Will sat down to write his first letter to Elizabeth.

Dearest Elizabeth,

I know it is most improper for my writing so, but as you have given me no opportunity to communicate with you, I have no choice. You must allow me this one means of contact. You do not have to reply, but please read what I say.

I have only just this afternoon begun negotiations to have Senator Lucius' third son become my apprentice. I had not even considered the idea of teaching my craft until today. It will be a new experience and one that I trust will teach me as much as I teach him. The boy's name is Timothy, and he has a natural inclination for the art, which is necessary in my view. He has had a little formal training, but nothing specifically in the area of sculpting. I am eager to take this challenge.

Timothy is to remain here in the metropolis until all his affairs are straightened. In the meantime, he has been so kind (and obedient?) as to oblige in delivering my letters to you. I expect you will have met Timothy upon receiving the letter, then. Do not be alarmed, I trust he is a discrete person.

I am nearly finished with the Senator's bust, and will most likely leave the day after tomorrow. Timothy will join me much later if everything goes well. If not, I am still so intrigued by the idea of an apprentice, I might just ferret out some other aspiring prospects.

In the meantime, I remain yours,

Will Darcy

By the time Will left the metropolis, his letter had been successfully delivered to Elizabeth. Will was left the entire four-day journey to wonder what her reaction had been and if she had read the letter at all.

Senator Lucius had been agreeable to his third son studying under the famed Will Darcy. However it was agreed that the lad would remain in his father's house until his fourteenth birthday had passed in three months. Will was glad of the delay, for the obvious reason of having Timothy at his disposal in the metropolis but also for the time to prepare for Timothy's arrival.

Will had his home expanded to accommodate a second permanent resident and a second studio. He spoke to Dame Kendra about the boy and had his storerooms stocked up. He ordered some third-rate stone for Timothy to begin learning with, and he had tools commissioned for the boy's use.

Meanwhile, Will wrote letters to Elizabeth every other day, sending them to Timothy. They weren't long letters; they were sometimes chatty and sometimes profound with worries and thoughts Will had been pondering recently. He poured his heart out on parchment and sent it to her in the hopes that she would come to understand and love him.

On the off days, Will wrote to Timothy. The remarkable postal system throughout the countryside never ceased to amaze Will. Indeed, it was a unique innovation to his nation. However, the townspeople became curious about who their resident artist could be writing to daily. He dropped, in a couple of conversations, the fact that he was training an apprentice who was currently kept at his home. This explained everything to the townsfolk. Will did begin to actually write to Timothy, teaching him the terms of the trade and the different techniques he should memorize. It was a useful tool for Will to teach the boy.

Two weeks before Timothy was to move in with Will, the boy sent the artist a short note explaining: I have not been able to deliver your last few letters to Miss Elizabeth, as she has become ill.

Will panicked. On the same post, he sent back a reply: Prepare a place for me in your father's house. I come post haste.

That evening, Will rode toward the metropolis. He couldn't help the cold hand of fear gripping his heart. He kept telling himself that Timothy did not say it was serious. However if she had been unable to even receive the post, it had to be serious! Three agonizing days later he arrived at the Senator's house. Timothy was astute enough to meet Will outside. Together, they rode through the metropolis to the hovel where Elizabeth resided temporarily.

Will's fear increased upon seeing the conditions she lived in. He ducked under the doorway, entering the tiny, dirty abode. He found her lying on a pallet on the floor, tossing in delirium, her brown hair matted to her sweaty forehead.
Will knelt by her side and taking the sleeve of his shirt, gently wiped her face. She didn't respond. Looking about him, he noticed a lack of resources for which to care for the sick. Quickly making a decision, he scooped Elizabeth into his arms, and carried her with some difficulty, to his horse. Timothy kept her steady on his horse as he mounted behind her. Then together, they rode back to Timothy's house. The whole ride, Will held her tightly, talking quietly to her and praying to the gods that she would be all right.

The Senator and his wife graciously offered the sick lady shelter in their home. With the help of Timothy's older sister and a servant, Elizabeth was bathed and placed on a comfortable bed.

Will sat by her bedside, tending to her, wiping her brow with a cool cloth, prepared to give her food and drink should she wake. He held her hand while he kept vigil. After one whole night of anticipation, Elizabeth still had not woken.

Upon consultation with Timothy's older sister, Will decided to take Elizabeth home with him so that she might benefit from the clean countryside air. Lucius kindly lent him a litter in which to carry her, and it was decided that Timothy would return with Will early as the opportunity had arisen.

The ride back was slow on account of the pace taken to ensure Elizabeth's safety and comfort. Will often checked on her to see if any improvement could be seen, but he could see none. Timothy was tactfully silent, concentrating more on memorizing all the terms he needed to know before they arrived at Will's home.

Five days later, they reached their destination upon the mountain. Elizabeth was carried to the room she had previously stayed in. Will immediately enlisted the help of Dame Kendra, who asked no questions about Elizabeth's long absence and sudden reappearance.

William remained by her side as much as possible while she remained unconscious. This time allowed Timothy to become familiar with his new surroundings, making a trip into the village for supplies and to visit the temples.

The day after their return home, Elizabeth woke up and looked about her. Will, who had been alerted by her signs of conscious stirrings, gazed down at her gently, keeping to his post at her bedside. She closed her eyes for a few minutes and then blinked them open again. Her fine eyes looked around at the room that would be familiar to her, and then finally rested on Will. He held his breath, fearing a negative reaction.

A small, slow smile came to her face, and she whispered, "Hello."

Will let out the breath he'd been holding in one huge sigh of relief. He buried his face in his hands and sobbed a few times in release, then he remained quiet, still covering his face. When he had recovered his composure, he sat up and asked her quietly, "Are you thirsty or hungry? I can get you some if you'd like."

"I'd like some water."

He helped her sit upright, supporting her back with his strong arm while he held the goblet up to her lips. She took small sips for a minute and then relaxed more against his arm to signal she was finished. He gently lay her back down on the bed and smoothed the hair from her face before turning to put the goblet down on the table behind him.

"Would you be so kind as to inform me how I came to be here?"

Will flustered a little, and then replied, "Timothy informed me you were ill. So I hurried to the metropolis to see if you were all right. Seeing that you needed more care, I decided to bring you back here, where it is healthier."

"How long have I been here?"

"We got here yesterday."

"I'm sorry."

"No, do not be sorry. Be anything but sorry."

She smiled another slow, small smile and said, "Thank you."

Will gazed down at her with his heart in his eyes. Unprepared for these emotions, Elizabeth said, "If you don't mind, I'd like to sleep."

"Yes, do. Regain your health. Next time you wake you can eat something."

She turned on her side away from him, and curled her arm underneath her head. She heard him rise from his chair and leave the room. She was soon asleep.

Will found Timothy in the pantry putting away some provisions he had been sent to buy in the village. The lad looked up at his master expectantly.

"She is sleeping peacefully now. She will recover."

"That is excellent news sir."

"It is," he said with a smile of his own. "Now, let's get you started on your work."

Timothy eagerly followed Will into the studio, which he had heretofore not seen. Will proudly showed him around, talking about each area, each tool, each work in progress. Timothy was fascinated, and asked as many questions as he could. Finally, Will set him to work on sketching a design for a flower. Will left him pouring over his sketch, his tongue sticking out in the effort.

The sculptor began to make a broth of chicken for Elizabeth to eat when she awoke. When it was complete, he left it simmering at the back of the hearth. He poked his head into Elizabeth's room to make sure she was still resting, and then retired to his bed himself, anxious to catch up on some of the sleep he had lost while watching at Elizabeth's bedside.

As he lay in his bed, he could not but hope that while Elizabeth was under his roof, she would truly see his change, and would become more favorable to him. He dreamed of the day when Elizabeth returned his love. He desperately wanted it more than anything he had ever wanted. Much more than his desire for Galatea to be human.

When Will awoke, he got out of bed and looked in on Elizabeth, not finding her in her bed, he began to panic, and quickly searched the kitchen, but she showed no signs of having been there. He ran to the studio, and burst in, saying, "Tim, have you seen Elizabeth?"

He looked up, startled and shook his head, eyes wide with concern.

Will paused and then remembered Elizabeth's favorite haunt while she was there. He went to the library, and found her wrapped in a blanket beneath a candelabra, reading a book. She looked up when he burst in and smiled guiltily.

Will just sagged against the door and shook his head at her. "You will be the death of me one day!" he exclaimed. After he had a minute to calm himself, he asked, "Would you like some broth?"

"Ooh, yes please! I'm starving."

Will took this and her escapade to the library as an indication that she was fast improving in health. He brought two bowls of broth and some bread into the library, sitting across from her in another chair. Though she was ravenous, she ate delicately.

"Why was there no one tending you?" he asked.

"No one could afford to. I lived with people who worked for a living."

"But why did you not send for help?"

"Will, I hardly knew I was that ill! It was sudden."

"I'm sorry," he apologized.

"It's not your fault. These things just happen."

Will wanted to say something about them not happening in clean, uncrowded places, but knew she would not appreciate the comment.

Then she said softly, "Thank you for your letters." And when he looked up at her surprised, she added, "I did enjoy them and looked forward to seeing Timothy every other day. He's quite a messenger."

Timidly, Will asked, "Why did you not write back?"

"Well, I felt I could have nothing to say to interest you."

Will couldn't restrain a bitter laugh at that.

"Besides, I hardly had the money to send anything to you by post."

"All you had to do was give it to Timothy."

She looked a little shocked, and said, "I could not impose on him like that."

"Why not? Any expense of his is now mine."

"That's beside the point. Is he here now?"

"He should be in the studio working on the assignment I gave him."

"Bring him, would you?" she said with delight. "I do so wish to see him."

Will could not help feeling more than a little jealous of his young apprentice. He found Timothy still working on his sketch and bade him come to the library. When they entered, Elizabeth cried with pleasure and held out her hands to the lad. Timothy took then in his and bowed over them, saying, "Elizabeth, it is so good to see you looking so well!"

"Thank you. Imagine you being here as Will's apprentice! Is he working you too hard?" she asked with a sly smile at Will, who was feeling even more jealous toward Timothy.

"No, for we have barely started yet."

"If he whips you too hard, just come to me and I'll set your master straight."

With an impudent grin, Timothy nodded and retreated from the room to return to his work.

"He is a delightful boy," Elizabeth said after he had gone.

Will grunted noncommittally.

Elizabeth guessed what he was thinking with some amusement. "Will, dear, would you carry me to my bed? I fear I have tired myself out for today."

Trying not to seem to eager, he stooped and picked her up in his arms. It was so much easier to do when she was conscious. She laid her head on his shoulder, and wrapped her arms around his neck. Will was sorely tempted to go the long way through the house to her room, but knew she would realize what he was doing. So he tried to go slowly but was still sorry when he had to lay her gently on the bed. He pulled the covers over her body and bent down impulsively to kiss her forehead, leaving her to her rest.

The following week, Will spent as much time with Elizabeth in her waking hours as he could. She quickly regained her health in the mountain atmosphere, and Will began to dread her return to the metropolis, though no word was spoken of it.

One late afternoon, Will took Elizabeth on a walk on the mountain to get her some fresh air. They were mostly silent until Elizabeth said, "I shall miss the old man."

"Why, has he passed on?" asked Will in surprise.

"No, he's still going strong, asking his difficult questions and challenging the mind."

Will dared to hope this meant she would not be returning to the metropolis, but would not ask outright if she was staying for fear of the wrong answer.

Instead he tried a different tactic. "You are truly the most intelligent woman I have ever known."

She blushed and replied, "You must not know many women, for I am not extraordinary."

"But that does not diminish my admiration."

She happened to look up at his face and caught him looking down at her with such warmth that it made her quickly look away.

"I am sure I do not compare with other men, however," she stated self-deprecatingly. Her comment had the intended effect.

"No, indeed! For you are far better than other men."

She laughed a little. "But what of your skill?" she challenged.

"I have skill and talent to be sure, but actual knowledge outside of my craft, you far surpass me. And even in my own trade, I can learn things from you." He caught her eyes and she knew him to be referring to the eagle incident. She flushed an embarrassed red.

Will, afraid he had frightened her, turned to a more neutral topic.

Timothy had settled in nicely to the household, working and learning diligently, as well as adding liveliness to the place. Will lost count of the number of times Timothy had saved him and Elizabeth from an awkward silence.

After another week, and Elizabeth still had not left, but was now fully recovered, Timothy decided to ask his master a question that had been on his mind for some time.

"Master?"

"Hmm?" replied Will, not looking up from the leaf he was in the middle of finishing off.

"When will you and Elizabeth be getting married?"

"What?" asked Will, surprised by the question to say the least.

Timothy knew full well that there was no marriage planned. But he acted ignorant. "I said when will you and Elizabeth be getting married? Because it would sort of be a nice time for my family to come down and visit and see this place. I would like them to see how well situated I am here with you and Elizabeth."

Will didn't know what to say for a minute. Then replied, "I don't know where you got the idea that we were engaged, but I assure you no engagement has taken place."

Timothy acted surprised. "Whyever not? I thought surely by now..." he trailed off. Innocently he asked, "Haven't you asked her?"

Will regarded his apprentice quizzically, and said, "No, no I haven't."

"But why?" asked Timothy in a very confused and naïve voice.

The master scrubbed his face wearily. "Because I am not assured of her regard."

Timothy guffawed. "You're joking!"

"Indeed, I do not jest!" retorted Will angrily.

Timothy looked astonished. "But surely you have noticed her regard. Why, she looks on you with much favour! Why else would she still be here? Not for my account, I'm sure."

Will looked a little bit hopeful. Could he take a mere apprentice's word? Timidly, he asked, "Did... did she say anything?"

"Not directly, no, but I've certainly seen signs. They're the same ones my older sister used to give to my brother-in-law."

Will looked more hopeful.

Timothy decided not to push too hard. "Well, anyway, I thought it was a done deal. If not, that's ok. She'll get the hint soon and go back to the metropolis," he said simply.

That did infuse Will's heart with fear. He decided to act soon, even if it meant another rejection, he would have to know.

Two days after this alert, Will sought Elizabeth out in the library after making quite sure that Timothy was occupied in the studio. She looked up and smiled at him when he entered her usual sanctuary.

"What is Timothy up to today?"

"I've set him to work on some studies of proportion."

"Have you come to ask for my help?" she teased.

He smiled tolerantly and replied, "Later, when I have taught all I know."

"Well I shall come to the studio in two hours then?"

Will smiled a little more, gaining much pleasure from her teasing. "I am so happy to find your faith in me has not increased."

"Never, Master Sculptor."

He sat down on the footstool in front of her chair and said quite seriously, "I was wondering how long you were going to stay."

She didn't reply for some time. "I had not made any definite plans. I can leave tomorrow if that is your wish," she said gravely.

"No, no!" he cried, putting his hand on her feet as if to stay her departure. "I merely ask out of curiosity," he lied.

"I do not have any definite plans."

Will looked up into her face searchingly. "When you will you decide on your plans?" he asked softly.

"I... I am not sure," she stammered, the heat rising in her face.

Will unconsciously began to pick at the rough skin on his worn hands. "What could I do to induce you to stay?"

"Stay?" she whispered, unable to look away from his burning eyes.

"Forever."

"Forever?" she repeated.

"As mistress."

She couldn't make another response.

"As my wife."

He slowly rose from the ottoman to the seat beside her, holding her eyes with his the entire time. He took the book from her hands and carefully put it on the side table. Then he took both her hands into his and clasped them tightly. "Please," he whispered. "I love you, I need you."

His eyes pleaded even more than his voice as he stared intently into the fine eyes he had long ago carved into a block of stone. Almost imperceptibly, she nodded. He caught the movement with a surge of hope in his body.

"Yes?" he asked, begging for more reassurance.

"Yes," she whispered in reply.

He slowly leaned forward and captured her lips with his own. This kiss was very different from their first. For one thing, it didn't end with a slap, for another, it was she this time who had melted his heart of stone. The feelings coursing through him were exquisite, and he simply was incapable of resisting the urge to pull her to him and caress her face.

When he finally pulled away, he looked down at her asked, "Elizabeth, will you marry me?"

She smiled and nodded with more assurance this time and he returned passionately to their previous activity.

It was a few days before the engaged couple realized to what extent they owed their current understanding to the mere apprentice. Elizabeth had mentioned something about Timothy's family wanting to come down for their wedding and Will had questioned her about it.

She looked at him with surprise. "Why, before you proposed to me, Timothy talked to me about his family coming down for the wedding. I corrected his misunderstanding and he acted thoroughly surprised, saying that you were well nigh pining away for me!"

Will pursed his lips in a stern expression as he realized Timothy's ploy. But after hearing Elizabeth's lovely laughter, his expression broke and he had to grin sheepishly, admitting to himself and to Elizabeth that he had much to be grateful to Timothy for.

Will's bachelor days ended quite happily in a small wedding ceremony in the village, to which Timothy's family did attend and were quite happy with their son's situation.

Will, Elizabeth and their apprentice Timothy lived happily ever after for seven years. Then Timothy started on his own and was soon to experience the dreadful feeling of pining for a beautiful lady. Then Will got the last laugh, while keeping his own wife and two children safely in his arms.

But Will never forgot the day his beautiful wife came to life in his arms. Though it was not a memory he particularly cherished, he did however, realize how much good it did him. Will continued to honor Shahday with offerings for the rest of his life in gratitude.

The End