Mr. Darcy had always been a figment of her imagination. A character in a movie, a hero in a book. Until he wasn't. She was sitting at her window listening to piano music and imagining what the rain would sound like if it could sing. Soft tinkling bells like crystal. Flutes and reed pipes. She decided. Summer rain pitter pattered against her window, the sun burning gold behind the clouds. She clutched a copy of Pride and Prejudice and closed her eyes. She imagined Mr. Darcy watching Elizabeth across the room, his sky blue eyes unwavering, his strong frame tense with nerves. She smiled, so did Elizabeth. They knew he was watching them. They brushed a strand of hair from their eyes and glanced long-ways at him.
He had a blissfully innocent look to his face. Hard but soft. Closed but so open. He was a walking contradiction. His strong build so fragial under their steady gaze. He slowly started to approach them. When he closed what seemed a hundred miles in only a few steps, he bowed his head, they curtsied in response. "Mr. Darcy" they said.
"Madam, may I have the honor of a dance?" He asked stiffly.
"I thought you did not dance, Mr. Darcy." They smiled coyly.
"Tis a better alternative to standing about and having people think me in the way." He smiled softly, "Also, I thought I should promote that which I hold in high importance in a companion."
"In that case, I would be delighted to have a dance." They replied and took his hand as he lead them onto the dance floor. The band began to play, crystal bells and reed pipes filled the hall. Flutes filled the empty space in the sound. They weaved about the other couples, but soon, it felt as if they were the only ones in the room. She could not take her eyes from him. Neither could Elizabeth. He was so wonderfully handsome. "Well, Mr. Darcy, I wonder if you promote other qualities you deem important." They smiled when he held them close for a step or two.
"Such as?" his voice vibrated in his chest.
"You value reading, music and the arts, do you not?" they asked.
"Very much indeed." He nodded.
"Do you promote these?"
"As often as I can, but I regret to confess that I hold no real talent for any." He smiled.
"Tis a pity, for your dancing is sorely lacking." They teased good humoredly.
"I am sorry to have tormented you with it," he laughed softly.
So softly, like everything else about him dispite his build. His hand when he held hers, his eyes when theirs met. He was such a soft being, only hard when circumstances called for it.
"Wake." His voice whispered, but his lips did not move. "Wake."
She jerked awake in her room again. The rain was still falling, the book now on the floor. She bent to pick it up but another hand reached for it first. It was cuffed in old cloth. Cloth like the kind Mr. Darcy wore. It gently picked up the book and handed it to her. There he stood. Escaped from the pages and standing in her room. His eyes as sky blue as they had been in the ballroom. Mr. Darcy smiled softly again and glanced at the book she held. "you hold reading in high importance too." He commented.
"How is… you're… you're in this book, how…" she reached out and touched his hand and he stiffened. She forgot that he was not from her time and such a bold move was frowned upon. She pulled away again but could not fathom it.
"I heard you calling to me. Stronger than Elizabeth ever could. I followed your voice into the mist and when I opened my eyes, I stood before you. I walked out of my world and into yours. And I have no intention of going back."