Mt. Everest was beautiful.

Lizzy greatly admired the exotic landscape, the great gorges, and valleys that decorated the mountain range, and the few animals she saw as they climbed. She had climbed mountains before but this, this was a whole new experience. Already they had climbed higher than the average mountain was tall. And she was starting to feel the effects. Her calves were aching when they established Camp I at 18,300 feet (which was, to her astonishment, still very much the very bottom of Mt. Everest) and burning by the time they reached 20,000 feet, where they established Camp II.

She plopped down gratefully when Col. Fitzwilliam called for a halt. She leaned forward, stretching her tired leg muscles, and breathed slowly and deeply before shrugging off her pack. It was a welcome relief.

She rolled her shoulders, shivering when the freezing mountain air touched the sweat on the back of her neck. Lizzy grimaced. She was simultaneously freezing and unbearably hot due to her numerous layers. Yet, to remove anything would be foolhardy and wouldn't do anything to ease her discomfort. It was a lose-lose situation; she had no choice but to grin and bear it.

Still, she mourned, it would have been nice to be at least somewhat comfortable. Between the ache in her back and shoulders and neck and the discomfort of climbing in frigid temperatures while overheating, she feared that the remainder of the trip would prove to be a wholly uncomfortable experience.

Her frown deepened. Hopefully, Will hadn't been feeling like this, this entire time. It was an awful feeling and she could scarcely tolerate the thought of him suffering through this for months.

These troubled thoughts circled relentlessly as she ate and by the time she had eaten her meal, she was desperate to check on her husband. Frantically, she hurriedly stood, brushed the crumbs from her hands, scooped up her pack, and set off in search of him. The coats and scarves covering all of their faces made it almost impossible to differentiate who was who. And she was forced to slowly go from man to man. His six-foot height should have made it easier to spot him but the only person she ran into was George.

Literally.

"Elizabeth!" He exclaimed, catching her by the arms as she slid into him with a squeal. Her face flushed with embarrassment and she looked away. Gently, he helped her regain her footing before frowning at her. "Is something troubling you? You look half-mad with worry."

"Oh, George. It's nothing really. You haven't happened to have seen William today, have you?"

"Darcy! Oh no, I've been dealing with all these- well, the mountain is harsh. Harsher than most were expecting, that's for sure."

"Indeed? I admit to being a bit more worn out than I had expected."

"Yes, yes, exactly! It's this thin air. Makes the effort of climbing twice as hard."

"Really," She exclaimed, mouth agape beneath her scarf, panic a hard weight in her chest. That explained so much. No wonder William was having such a hard time. "That's terrible! The men- We can't climb in such conditions! We'd kill ourselves trying!"

"Unfortunately, that is what Dr. Gardiner has been telling me. A lot of the men have fallen ill because of it." George gestured empathetically, kicking at the sparse snow and rock in his frustration. "And now, I fear that the whole expedition may be canceled because of it."

Lizzy's blood ran cold. Will had been feeling sick back in India, long before they reached the mountain. How much worse was he now? Had she half-killed him in her quest for adventure? Or had his stubborn pride? She hoped with little optimism that he had ridden in one of the carts or on one of the horses instead of wearing himself out walking.

Colonel Fitzwilliam's voice rose above the din, "Move out! Everybody up!".

Around her, the convoy was packing up and moving forward. "No! Wait! I haven't found William yet."

"Sorry Elizabeth, no time to wait. You don't want to get left behind."

They arrived at the site for advanced base camp (21,000 ft) just as dusk was falling. In the fading light, they worked rapidly to pitch their tents on the upper end of the glacier below the icy slopes of the North Col. While another group set about unloading the provisions from the weary pack animals and setting up the thick canvas tents for the mess hall and first aid tent. Lizzy assisted where she could. This being their fifth day on the mountain and their umpteenth since leaving Darjeeling she was well-versed in the motions and routines of establishing their camps. But she did it all with a distracted air; she didn't want to be pitching tents and fighting to light fires, she wanted to check on William.

Fortunately, a nearby porter noticed her frustration and came over to help, "Let me take over, Mrs. Darcy. You go check on that husband of yours," he continued with a knowing twinkle in his kind eyes. "He was over by the supply wagons, just a moment ago."

"Thank you," Immediately she dropped the items in her hands and speed-walked a couple of steps away before stopping. Turning back she shouted back at him, "Wait. What's your name?"

"Gyalzen. You come find me if you need anything, okay."

He had a very grandfatherly air about him and Lizzy instantly liked him. "I will! Thank you so much!"

He just chuckled and waved her on with one gloved hand.

Just as he'd said, William was by the supply wagons. What he'd failed to mention was that he was hanging half out the back.

"William!"

Tripping over herself in her haste she ran to his side and cradled his dangling head to her. Bracing it against her torso as she frantically stripped off her cumbersome mittens and cradled his face between her hands, stroked the parts of his hair that stuck out of his hat from his forehead, and tried desperately not to cry. He looked at her with half-lidded, glassy eyes.

"'lzbth," he slurred. "Pl'se do't make me walk an'more."

She made a noise - half-sob, half-laugh - and pressed her forehead to his and closed her eyes. "Oh, darling. No more walking - not for you - I promise. I'll have someone carry you to our tent."

As it turned out that was a task Gyalzen was more than happy to help with. As he got William settled in their tent, Lizzie spoke to him in hushed tones. Of his listlessness, his lack of appetite and refusal to eat but the smallest amounts of food and water, his fatigue, and nausea he'd been experiencing. Through it all, he nodded solemnly, a frown carving deep lines into his face before with a sigh he reaffirmed what George had been telling her. They had scaled the mountain too quickly to give them time to properly acclimate to the elevation changes. That was what was making them sick, he said and recommended that Lizzy speak to the doctor in the morning. She nodded mutely.

Gyalzen squeezed her shoulder kindly, spoke a few parting words, then showed himself out.

On his cot, William moaned and shifted restlessly in his sleep. Lizzy grabbed his hand. She hung her head, bit her lip, as she watched her thumb move in slow circles across the back of his hand. This wasn't how this trip was supposed to go. It was supposed to be...fun. Exciting. Exotic, even. They were supposed to be admiring the foreign landscape with each other and joking about how it was so different from England. A tear landed on their conjoined hands and she hurriedly brushed it away, only for two more to take its place. Now though, she realized that this trip wasn't going to be any of those things.

When they looked back on this trip years from now they wouldn't remember the people or the places or the new, interesting things they'd seen. He'd only remember the cold and the exhaustion and the misery he'd felt. And, with a heavy heart, she had a sinking suspicion that she'd only remember the guilt and sorrow she'd caused.

Guilt was a heavy cloak to bear, she was learning.

She held onto him all through the night and didn't let go.

Life at Rongbuk Glacier was hard.

And Lizzy didn't just mean the environment.

Sure, the ground was surprisingly rocky, only patches of snow scattered here and there, with the occasional chunk of glacier but that wasn't much different from what she had seen already on the trek here.

No, the problem was that with the establishment of a permanent camp she had run out of excuses to avoid her husband. It wasn't that she was angry with him. She wasn't. She was angry with herself. This was her fault. She had pushed and pushed to come until William had finally - reluctantly - given in. He hadn't wanted to come and now he was the one suffering for her poor decision. He wasn't eating, he was hardly drinking. All he seemed to want to do was sleep. It worried and frightened her.

Darcy wasn't one to lie about in bed if he didn't have to.

And it was her fault. How could she apologize for that? What could she say to him that wouldn't feel like excuses?

I didn't think the mountain would be so large.

I didn't know that the air would be thinner.

I didn't think it would be so cold or so dangerous.

I'm so sorry.

He was right to be upset with her, she thought bitterly, none of those reasons were enough to make her husband follow her halfway across the world on a dangerous expedition.

A dangerous expedition, that for all intents and purposes, looked like it was going to progress as planned to George's delight and Lizzy's growing dismay. A small group of men, including George and Gyalzen, had left early that morning to scout out a way further up the mountain. They weren't expecting to be gone more than a few days but that left the rest of the group to sit around with nothing to do except wait for them to return.

It was maddening.

Lizzy could have pulled all her hair out from the stress of worrying about George - foolhardy George who was as stubborn as a mule and never knew when to quit - and her ailing husband. It peaked after another day of watching Will sleep and refuse to eat more than a few bites of food or a few sips of water. Lizzy had enough and went to seek out the doctor.

"Dr. Gardiner! Dr. Gardiner, wait, please!" He turned towards her, frustration pinching his face; Lizzy was tempted to just say 'nevermind' by the harassed look in his eyes.

"What do you want?" Gardiner asked distractedly, interrupting her constantly with instructions to passing men.

"It's my husband. He's terribly sick," she explained, speaking faster and faster as she listed all of Will's symptoms. A knot grew in her throat as anxiety swelled within her until her stomach felt like a tumultuous sea. For one lightning-quick moment, she feared she'd be sick but then the feeling passed and she exhaled raggedly. She took in deep breaths of the freezing air. Hoped that the chill would help slow her racing heart and calm the storm inside her.

It didn't.

She suppressed a startled flinch when Dr. Gardiner turned his full attention to her. His lip was curled as he snapped at her, "Half the men on this blasted expedition are ill with the same." He threw up his hands exasperated. "The only cure is rest and to get off this forsaken mountain."

"But Dr. Gardiner-"

"Enough! There's nothing I can do so just leave me alone. You're no good to anyone standing about getting in the way."

He stalked away, already yelling new orders at the porters, leaving Lizzy standing there with a new chill settling into her chest. "I know," she whispered at his retreating back and smiled grimly.

With no other choice, Lizzy returned to her tent.

William had been sound asleep when she'd left but he was awake now and he tensed when she entered the tent. It made her heart ache but she pretended not to notice and put on a brave face as she kneeled down beside him. "Good morning," she said with false cheer. "How are you feeling?"

He made a noncommittal sound, "Fine. Better."

"Yeah? Do you want to try to eat something then?" He had to be starving but he made a face at the thought of eating before curling onto his side and closing his eyes.

"No."

Lizzy scowled. "Please? Just a little bit. Or even just a cup of water? You need it, William. You're just hurting yourself by continuing to refuse everything I offer you. Please, please, for the love of God, just eat something."

It was a task similar to Hercules wrestling the bull Achelous but she succeeded in the end in getting William to eat a dry stick of jerky, some granola, an entire cup of water, and half a cup of tea.

It felt like a victory and for the time being she was satisfied.

That night, long after darkness had fallen over their small camp, Lizzy slipped from her sleeping bag.

The air was freezing and thin, but she gave no sign of noticing.

Moving slowly, she knelt beside William's cot, clasped one of his sleep-lax hands, and prostrated herself as low as she could go. Fervently pressing it against her forehead like a sinner begging a priest for forgiveness.

"I'm so sorry, William. I didn't mean for this to happen. I, I should have listened to you- your reservations back before we left England. Before we met with George, even! But I didn't." Her voice cracked and she pinched her eyes shut tighter. William stirred beneath her. She froze, scarcely daring to breathe, as he drifted back into a deeper sleep. She sighed with relief then opened her eyes. "I was so blind. Blinded by the possibility of adventure and the thought that I could contribute to- be a part of such an- an important event. Historic, even. And- I never thought I'd get the chance to be a part of something like this! I'm a woman and I don't- We aren't supposed to be part of expeditions like this. And I was so concerned with rising above society's ideas of what women can do and proving that I could do anything that these men can, that I forgot about you. And that's awful and it's terrible but it's true. And I'm just so ashamed and, and I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, 'm sorry, 'm sorry."

George and his party returned early in the morning on May 22; four days after they had left.

The news of their arrival spread quickly through the camp and for the first time in nearly a week Lizzy breathed easily. She had been out of her mind with worry over William and fear of what they'd do if they did not return. Fear for George and what he might do to salvage his expedition if pressed. Fear for her new friend, Gyalzen. The sudden absence of fear was liberating. As was the relief of seeing their brightly colored packs heading towards them.

Upon seeing them she (and a few porters) immediately abandoned their tasks and hurried over to help the weary men carry their supplies back to camp. All of their faces were set in grim lines, their skin simultaneously deathly pale and bright red. They all looked exhausted. Wrung out. More than a few needed help taking those last few steps, propped up between the porters that supported them as they half-carried, half-dragged them into camp, past the first line of tents, and into the medical tent.

George sat down heavily around one of the pitiful fires, some of the others slumped down next to him. The party gathered around to hear what news he'd brought. They shuffled impatiently as the silence stretched on. George seemed disinclined to talk. Finally, she could bear it no longer and broke the awkward, anticipatory silence.

"Well, how did it go? Did you manage to find a suitable route to the summit?"

George sighed, pulled off his cap, ran a hand through his hair, and haltingly began to speak.

The day they'd left had been nice and sunny, according to Mallory. They'd hiked further up the North Col. and around 1 p.m. they'd stopped and erected camp IV. They'd stopped early because the next day they'd planned on starting early and hiking all day; carrying with them the bare minimum they'd need to survive. The porters reported they were in good health at this point in time. The next day, he'd woken up around 5:30 am and inspired the group to start the day. This is where they encountered their first hurdle, he glumly reported. When he'd spoken to the porters that morning they complained that they had slept badly the night before. Complaining that the tents provided inadequate airflow and let little oxygen into them and, as such, they felt too tired and sick to continue. They would not be persuaded and in the end, only five of the original nine porters agreed to go further up the mountain.

The second hurdle was that of preparing their food. To their dismay, they could not get a fire going in their portable stoves, and then, when it had finally been persuaded to work, they couldn't get any water to boil for their oatmeals and coffees. Frustrated, they had been forced to make do with what they had and choked down a cold, unsatisfying meal. Even more frustrating, the setbacks had delayed them for longer than George had intended and they didn't start hiking until around 7 a.m.

However, as they climbed the weather worsened and the temperature fell dramatically. Once above the North Col, they were climbing in unknown territory; never before had any mountaineer climbed on the summit slopes of such a mountain. To make matters worse, the porters had no warm clothing and shivered excessively. Due to this and the tremendous effort required to cut steps into the icy slopes, they abandoned their plan to erect a camp at 26,900 ft and instead continued only to 24,934 ft. Here they established Camp V. Denny and Wickham were able to erect their tent on a flat piece of ground but George and Forster had to use an uncomfortable slope some 50 meters away. The porters were sent down the mountain to camp IV to wait with the others.

After a restless and uncomfortable night, the four mountaineers left their sleeping bags around 6:30 a.m. and were ready to go by 8 am. While packing, a rucksack with food fell down the mountain. Wickham, who had to fight the cold, was able to regain the rucksack but he was so exhausted from the effort that he could not go higher. Leaving him behind to watch the camp, George, Denny, and Forster continued along the north ridge in direction of the upper northeast ridge. The circumstances were not ideal as a light snowfall had begun to cover the mountain. Still, according to George, the snow ramps were not hard to climb and they continued until shortly after 2 p.m. - after reaching a height of 26, 985 ft - they decided to turn around. They were 150 m below the ridge.

Then disaster.

Or near disaster, George hastened to reassure them, as obviously they'd survived and were no worse for wear. They were crossing a dangerous area of crevasses and all the mountaineers except George began to slip. However, he was able to hold them up by his rope and ice axe until they'd regained their footing. Around 4 p.m. they got back to Wickham in the last camp and climbed down with him. It was slow going as it was more treacherous and got back to Camp IV in the dark. Here they spent one last night before starting the climb back to advanced base camp in the morning.

It was quiet as George finished talking. The fire crackled and spat as it struggled to stay lit; one particularly loud pop sent a stream of sparks into the air. The embers raining down like crimson snowflakes. Lizzy watched them quietly as she absorbed what she'd heard. Around her, the men were grumbling unhappily. George was slumped where he had collapsed; dejection hung around him like a shroud. Her face softened. This trip had swiftly tarnished and lost its shining allure to her; it definitely hadn't gone the way she'd planned. And it seemed like she wasn't the only one. George looked as disenchanted as she felt. He had told her when they'd first met how excited he was to climb the mountain and claim it for England.

She still saw that excitement sometimes when she looked at him but it was tainted now with fear, uncertainty, and doubt. She wondered if he was afraid that they wouldn't be able to do this for their country. Or worse, that they wouldn't make it to the top. It would be a painful truth for him, she thought, for that little boy who loved to climb things -that he still was- to come up against an obstacle that couldn't be surmounted.

It soothed something in her.

To know that she wasn't the only one trapped between a rock and a hard place.

"What happens now?"

"Now," he clasped his hands together contemplatively but he looked a million miles away. His eyes were unfocused, staring at nothing. "Now we try again. We planned for this, Colonel Fitzwilliam and I. This time we'll take oxygen bottles-"

Cries of "cheater!" and "no integrity!" and "we'd be the shame of the mountaineering society!" immediately arose from the assembled group. The men baying like a group of wounded hounds against the perceived slight against their sport. George had to raise his voice to be heard over the din.

"This time we'll take oxygen bottles and make our way up the route we already established. Following the same path, we'll return to camps IV and V. If all goes to plan, we'll be able to establish our final camp - Camp VI - and from there make it up the last three steps of the mountain and reach the summit. We leave the day after tomorrow."

"So soon?" Surprise showed on her face and she blinked rapidly. He'd just gotten back. Most of the people who'd gone with him looked half-dead, he looked like he hadn't slept in a month and he wanted to leave immediately on a very long hike through the cold and snow? "But you've only just returned. Surely you need more than a day to rest and prepare for another trip?"

"I'll be fine. I'm used to getting by on little sleep. And besides," he grinned, "snow has always filled me with excitement. I'll be ready and raring to go just at the sight of it. That being said, I should probably be heading for bed. Dawn waits for no man, as they say."

"Goodnight," Lizzy said quietly. "Sleep well. I'll see you in the morning."

He walked away, the men sending him off with calls of 'good night' and 'good luck' before drifting away to their own beds. Leaving just Lizzy and Gyalzen sitting around the dying fire.

"I'm glad you're back," Lizzy turned solemn dark eyes to his, a fragile smile tugging at her lips. "I've missed you. Maybe it's forward of me. We've only spoken a handful of times after all. But I just feel this..connection to you. Like I could talk to you about anything. I hope that's not off-putting."

"No. Not at all. It's flattering. You would not be the first to draw such comfort from me. I have been told that I have a very grandfatherly air about me."

"Just so! There's not another man in this entire camp who is as good at holding a conversation as you are, I'm afraid. And I've desperately missed having such a witty conversation partner."

"But not for lack of trying, I take it?" She grinned ruefully. In truth, she hadn't really tried to talk to anyone else. She found the men dull and they found her annoying. The few she had tried to talk to had just left her feeling more alone and bereft. She'd given up after a couple of tries. "Ah, but what about that husband of yours? Surely you must talk with him?"

"Ah….William and I… haven't been speaking."

Gyalzen's eyebrows creased with concern and he reached over and grasped her hand in between his comfortingly. "I did not realize that his exhaustion was so severe. Has he been bedridden for long?"

Lizzy swiped angrily at her nose, "No, that's not it. He was sick for a while; just before you left with George. But he slept for a few days and he seems to be doing a lot better. He's eating and drinking now; he doesn't seem as tired. But he can't bear to be near me! He hardly looks at me; he goes out of his way to spend time together. It's like I am losing him even though he's right here. And I fear that it's all my fault."

"How so?"

"It was my idea to come. When George asked us. William didn't want to but I pressured him into it. And now he's suffered so much because of my decision. He wasn't eating. Wasn't drinking. The walking was killing him and he didn't even say anything. But the worst part was that I didn't notice! What kind of spouse am I if I can't even see when my husband has need of me? I should've-"

"I think you give yourself far too much responsibility, Ms. lizabeth." He squeezed her hands. His tone broke no argument; the dying firelight made him look strike, severe, and cast his face with odd shadows. "Mr. Darcy is a grown man. He is capable of making his own decisions. He knew what he was signing up for when he agreed to come. Whatever choices you may have made, he made them too. It is not fair to you that you should shoulder all the blame for this."

"It's not that simple."

He shook his head. "It is. You may not be able to see it but it is. Your husband is a stubborn one, no? He doesn't strike me as the type to roll over and do whatever he's told; if he truly did not want to come, he would have said so. You didn't beguile or trick him into coming. It is not a crime to say when you want something, to plead your case about something you'd like to do. Lizzy, you are an elect lady. You have opinions and you are not afraid to share them; it is easy for me to imagine you asking him to be allowed to come. Asking. Not forcing. So, tell me, Mrs. Darcy. Did you force him to come?"

"I- I know that you're right. And if it were anyone but me it would be easy for me to see and accept. But when it is me. It's well…"

"Harder to accept when it's yourself?"

"Exactly. I can see what you are saying but… I do not know if I can bring myself to forgive myself for this. Not yet."

Gyalzen hummed thoughtfully. He tilted his head back to look at the stars and Lizzy followed his gaze. The stars were beautiful. She'd never seen so many and they were so bright. The view of the night sky was unparalleled. A bittersweet sadness filled her; she'd never have gotten this view in Derbyshire. "I think," He spoke slowly. "You need to talk to your husband."

"I can't." Her voice cracked with emotion. "I'm too afraid. What I have done," Gyalzen opened his mouth to protest and she shook her head, "And I know that you think I have done nothing wrong. But I have. I feel that I have. And…William it seems feels the same. I don't know if he'll forgive me for this."

"I think you're giving him far too little credit. That man loves you. I can see it about him; he would pull down the stars from the heavens if you asked it. He cares just as much for you as you care for him! Has the possibility never crossed your mind that maybe he feels the same way you do? Guilty and ashamed?"

Lizzy's eyes widened in surprise. "I had not."

He stood and squeezed her shoulder, "Talk to him. It'll all make sense afterward."

He strode away, leaving her sitting by the fire.

She stared into the flames pondering over his words, unmoving even as the last light of the sun disappeared behind the horizon.