Thank you thank you oh wonderful commenters! I love reading your thoughts, please never stop :)

For all of you who wondered about Mr. Darcy, here is his much anticipated POV. This chapter and the next were originally one chapter and I admit it is my favorite. I just love Darcy's POV. The way he is so clueless about Lizzy, his unintended jerkiness and how he will do everything for her, I just love the way his mind works.

Pigtails- I forgot to answer your question about the monk. Our dear monk is guarding the entrance, but he has no powers so is quite useless...

If I've forgotten to answer a question, or you have somthing to ask about the story, comment or PM me and I'd love to answer it :)

I hope you enjoy Lizzy's mind as much as i did. This part is a little bit steamier than the rest, though nothing explicit. It ends with an itty bitty cliffie, but everything will be resolved in the next chapter, so worry not.

The Door on the Wall

Part 4

"Come Darcy, you must hear this story!"

If there was something Fitzwilliam Darcy absolutely despised, it was being told he must do that, or have to see this. No, he did not have to see anything and he must not do anything. He will do whatever the hell he wanted. He was his own master!

"What is it?" he irritably asked. He was annoyed, so very annoyed and vexed and ready to pull his hair out.

It was a Sunday afternoon, two weeks before the dreaded wedding. He arrived two days ago, to what seemed like chaos of servants and guests and one very loud Mrs. Bennet. He left his sister behind, hoping to deal with Wickham before she came for a visit, and so his greatest source of comfort was out of reach. He endured hours of dull conversations about nothing but lace and mutton and pudding and blue eyed angels. And one of Bingley's friends, the damnable Mr. Bottoms, was trying to court Miss Elizabeth right before his eyes! One more flirtatious wink and he was going to punch him in the face. The simpering fool! As if Elizabeth would like to marry a man that agreed with her on everything. She had spirit! The damn idiot would never be able to keep up.

"Finally, a few minutes to ourselves. Care for some brandy, my friend?"

Darcy looked at Bingley in surprise, he quite forgot that he was there. He looked around for the others and then remembered that Bottoms went to take his beauty sleep, and Hurst disappeared with his wife a while ago. It was extremely odd, the way the Hursts behaved, even more than not having Miss Bingley around. Not that he was complaining, mind you!

"Yes, brandy would be most welcomed."

"We didn't have much time to talk, Darcy. You must wonder what changed my mind, why I decided to offer for Miss Bennet despite-"

"Bingley, I should never have interfered," Darcy sighed. He hated to apologize, especially when he thought he was right. No, he shouldn't have said anything, but he still thought Miss Bennet did not love Bingley. Hearing her mother's crows did not help Miss Bennet's image.

"I know you meant well, Darcy. I do not begrudge you. But I have been bursting to tell someone my story, of how I found a way into my love's private thoughts."

When Bingley finished his tale, Darcy found himself speechless. He had never heard such an odd, ludicrous, ridiculous, absurd, preposterous- well, you get the idea- tale.

"You think I'm crazy, I know," Bingley laughed in delight. "But I don't care. Because I know what happened was real. Louisa experienced something very close to my encounter and Miss Bennet hinted that her sister, Miss Elizabeth, may have tried that too. Though Miss Elizabeth refuses to say who's mind it was."

'Who was it? Probably Mr. Bottoms,' Darcy thought bitterly. 'Or that dreadful Lucas boy.'

Later that evening, after enduring another boring supper with the Bennets, and grinding his teeth whenever Bottoms engaged Elizabeth in a conversation, Darcy was seriously considering grabbing Miss Elizabeth and taking her to the nearest altar. He was never a very jealous person, it was a very peculiar feeling to suddenly start at the age of eight and twenty. He tossed and turned in his bed until the wee hours of the morning, and only fell asleep after he decided to offer for Elizabeth that very same day.

As it happened, he woke up a little earlier than usual, too early in Bingley's household standards, and while getting ready for the day with the help of his valet, he remembered Bingley's story. 'What would it hurt to try?' he thought to himself. No one was about, Bingley confessed the corridor was mostly deserted even on midday. No one had to know. He dearly wanted to see his beloved's door.

Minutes later, staring into the eyes of the severe and rather ugly monk, he regretted his impulsive decision. He was never impulsive! He was never rash! That is, until Miss Elizabeth entered his life. He didn't even notice he was pacing, and his surprise at seeing the door on the wall was apparent, had anyone been about to witness.

With wonder his eyes caressed the shimmering door. He had rarely seen anything of such beauty. It was more a picture than a door, the colors bright and pleasing. Yellow, red, green and blue smeared on what looked like beech wood door. The shimmering was actually the brightness of the paint. It was chaos, it was happiness, it was a work of art, it was nothing like he had ever seen before. Above it, in an elegant, feminine hand, the words 'I will seek him whom my soul loves' were embroidered in golden thread. Darcy reached his hand to touch the door reverently, only to find that the paint was still wet. At first he was upset with himself for ruining Elizabeth's door, but then he found it rather nice to put his mark on it.

'Well, there is no time like now,' he told himself and firmly opened the door. The smell of old books assaulted his nostrils the moment the door opened. Had he wanted, he wouldn't have been able to stop himself from entering the intriguing tunnel. He was afraid the tunnel's ceiling would be too low for him, it wouldn't have been the first time. But to his surprise, it was just right. He walked down the corridor, the candles lighting the way. He took a deep breath, filling himself with the wonderful smell of what was very close to the smell of his library in Pemberley. Was there also a hint of grass? He thought he detected cinnamon in the mix as well. A heady combination.

With a sure stride he walked down the corridor until his legs gave way and he fell into the hole. Though he knew it would happen, he was surprised at the timing and wasn't prepared for the fall. The darkness and silence surrounded him and he felt unease until he fell on a mound of what felt like grass. He blinked and the light was back, and he realized he was sprawled on a tiny little meadow. The grass was unkempt and felt fresh in his hands as his fingers pulled on a bunch of it, just to smell it. A few red and yellow buttercups popped between the long grass and colorful dragonflies flew around in a gentle buzz.

Darcy had never been so content in his life. For a while, he contemplated staying on this little piece of heaven forever. But then he remembered his purpose. He was to see his beloved. Slowly, he got up and moved towards the bright room in front of him.

The room was very close to what Bingley described, it was large with many machines and dashboards supporting odd clocks. But it was painted a cheerful yellow and the floor bubbled and fizzed from time to time, like lava, or a live creature, breathing and waiting. Amongst the machines were seven red foxes, looking intently at the screen in the middle of the room.

Elizabeth sat in front of him, larger than life and as beautiful as ever with cobwebs in her eyes and messy locks of hair everywhere. At first he worried that he did not reach the right place, he was supposed to see everything from Elizabeth's eyes, wasn't he? Until he realized that just like in Bingley's story, a mirror was involved.

"Oh, Lucy, you are a Godsend, what shall I do without you?"

Darcy noticed a young maid behind Elizabeth, blushing furiously at the compliment while helping her mistress out of her nightgown.

Out of her nightgown?

That was when it registered in his mind; he was watching Miss Elizabeth undressing. He was going to see her naked. He knew he should go, close his eyes, do something to preserve her privacy, but he could not. His feet would not move. His eyes stayed stubbornly opened. He could do nothing but watch her raise her hands and allow the maid to take it off. By Lord she was perfect, absolutely, utterly, incandescently perfect. Full breasts, athletic build, mouthwatering white legs and an enticing, dark, oval shaped birthmark on her front hip. He hoped and dreaded Elizabeth would turn around, if he saw her naked backside he would probably die from a heart attack. Luckily, Elizabeth turned from the mirror to the basin to wash herself and he no longer saw her on the screen. He watched mesmerized as the water she splashed on her face cascaded over the screen, it was a beautiful sight.

"Going for a walk as usual, Miss?"

"Oh, yes, a simple dress will do."

The agony and torture and overwhelming joy of seeing Elizabeth getting dressed and ready for the day made Darcy a little dizzy. His mind did not register the mundane talk of Elizabeth with the servant, until she mentioned a walk. He should go search for her! Offer for her on the spot! Lord, if he had to wait another minute to touch that birthmark he would surely die!

Despite his need to find her and propose, he stayed. First of all, he had no idea how to get out. Secondly, being inside her brain was insightful and a little addicting. Now that she was dressed, he was able to notice the other inhabitants in the room. The foxes were efficient yet talkative, very much like the lady herself. He couldn't help the smile on his face when he heard their conversation.

"Do try to collect our things quietly, will you foxy? Poor Jane does not need to wake up due to your clumsiness."

"Hey, it wasn't my fault last time! Vixen forgot to put our shoes under the bed and I fell over them."

"Shush, you! Just make sure our dear Jane continues her beauty sleep."

"What are we going to do when she's gone?" a fox in the corner asked the room.

"Try to be happy for her?" Foxy suggested.

"Of course we're happy for her! How many get to marry for love? Yet we will miss her."

Their chatter left Darcy lighter, knowing that Miss Bennet will get married for love. It was one less worry for him to carry. At that moment Elizabeth reached what looked like the bookroom and greeted her father jovially.

"Good morning, Papa."

"Good morning, my dear. Going somewhere?" Mr. Bennet asked drolly.

"I'm going for a walk, as you well know. Unless you hurt your head and forgotten the last seven years or so. I recommend having your head checked, just in case."

"Entertaining as ever. And where will you go today?"

"Oakham mount, I shall be back to break my fast soon enough so you will not be left alone to suffer from dull wedding conversations."

"Bless you child. Before you go, I must ask, you are not planning on clandestine meetings with a man, are you?"

"Meeting with a man?" Foxy asked and was echoed with Elizabeth's voice. "Wherever he got that idea?"

"I can't help but notice the way that Bottoms fellow is hovering near you."

"Papa…"

"You know, if it was only Mr. Darcy there I wouldn't worry, I know how much you dislike each other. But Mr. Bottoms is grating on my nerves with his open manners."

Whatever they spoke next was lost on Darcy, he closed his eyes, lost in a fog of despair and humiliation. She disliked him? And she thought he disliked her? How could he be so off the mark?

When next he opened his eyes, Elizabeth was outside, on her way to Oakham mount. But Darcy could not enjoy the view. The foxes were talking but he put his hands on his ears in an effort to block them. He didn't want to hear them talking about him, about how much she hated him, despised him. What a fool he was!

And then the foxes became extremely animated and the room started shaking. It seemed like Elizabeth had broken into a run. The floor boiled and bubbled and the color changed from dark yellow to burned orange and then an angry red, and then the floor opened and Darcy fell.

It took some time for Darcy to realize he was back in Netherfield, but when he did, he closed his eyes again and prayed it was all a dream. He almost convinced himself that it was, when he brought his hands to his face and suddenly noticed the paint smears on his fingers and the grass stains on his breeches. Slowly, he brought himself to his knees and then stood up. He wanted to hide in his room, or order his valet to pack his belongings post haste. Instead, he walked to the stables. A long hard ride will hopefully sort him out.

When he found himself at the bottom of Oakham mount, watching Miss Elizabeth skipping her way down cheerfully, he knew. He could never give up. Somehow, someway he needed to change her mind.