Wasted. Pitiful. The meeting with the Apprentice, not as he had so carefully planned. All those incisive, penetrating questions about love unuttered, unanswered. Something took hold of his tongue leading it in a jester's caperdance. A babble as if from a downy youth to his mother, mooning over the lass next door. Dark looks in the mirror over the sink. Cringing. That memory won't wash out with any amount of water.

No comprehensible answers either. Small wonder, to such questions. Unknowable, indeed? Nothing is unknowable except to commoners. Turning away groaning.

She is standing there, frowning, biting Her lip. Forcing himself to smile. Wanting to talk of love, of loving, but the words huddle in his innermost gloom, refusing to be beckoned. Stroking Her hair. Her face leaning into his hand, Her eyes closed.

Flames rising again, burning away all questions.

Afterwards, entwined, he waits for Her to fall asleep as She usually does. But something keeps Her awake. Breath mounting, pausing for the space of a heartbeat, receding again. Over and over. He waits. Then She throws it out, like a burning coal.

Asking how She came here.

The question was expected, the answer prepared. Neither a lie nor the whole truth. She isn't ready for that yet. More time needed. Telling Her only that the forces of love brought Her here. To the one who needs Her more than he needs life itself.

Anxiously awaiting Her response to the unexplaining explanation. For a while lying tense in his arms. Then eyes closing. Breath slowing. Sleep. Smiling tenderly down at Her. She is calmed. The stormy clouds dispelled for a while.

Rising carefully out of bed to go... where?

Frozen standing, staring into the void. Collapsing into an armchair, elbows on knees. Watching the hands dangling there. Unemployed now. Tools spent in shaping Her.

The forces of love did bring Her here. It is true. And beautiful. He brought Her. Not against Her will. He mastered the forces of love to create Her. If not for him, She would have no will, not anything, not even existence.

He created Her with the will to love him. He created Her with the will to love Her. Willing love.

So what still nags?