A/N: This is completely AU. It is a Twelve x Rose that is loosely based off the Pygmalion myth. This story is un-betaed, so any mistakes are my own. Let me know what you think. Enjoy! :D

Disclaimer: I do not own anything.

Lucius Caecilius Iucundus was a master sculptor, known throughout the Roman Empire for his intricate, life-like statues. He was a master of his art, creating impeccable works that astounded all kinds. Requests came in everyday for his sculptures and he still could not believe how popular his work had become in such a short time. It truly was his passion and nothing made him happier than designing a new piece; well, almost nothing.

There was one piece that brought his creativity out to its fullest.

It was the sculpture of a woman, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She was his pride and joy, every detail of her was perfect. She was perfect.

The visage of the stone statue was so realistic that he swore she might just come to life at any moment, but there was only one problem; such a woman did not exist. Yes, she was only the creation of his imagination.

A dream.

He looked at his masterpiece with awe, just as he always did, amazed by the sheer beauty of her. She was as fair and lovely as Venus but her eyes, had they been real, would have shown with the determination and wisdom of Minerva herself.

As a sculptor, she was his everything. He always strived for perfection in his work, knowing deep down that it was impossible, but he always managed to make every flaw look intentional and blended it seamlessly into his final product.

Humans were wonderfully flawed and she was so perfectly human.

Except made of stone.

He always imagined that if she were real, her hair would be honey blonde and her eyes warm brown. She would have been kind and fair, but fierce and protective. An enigma.

Alas, she was only stone. Such a woman could not exist and most certainly that if she had, she would not have been interested in a man well past his prime such as him.

She was everything that he wanted and yet, everything that he could not have.

The room was getting uncomfortably warm and Caecilius wasn't sure how much more of it he could take. Setting aside his tools, he stretched out his limbs, a few cracks and pops reaching his ears. He was getting up there in years and beginning to wonder how much longer he would be able to construct his masterpieces before the pains of age withered away his joints.

He pushed himself off the tiny stool and gazed at his most recent work of art; a statue of the goddess Venus. There was a festival coming up soon and she needed to be done in a week. He was ahead of schedule, but he wanted to finish her early so he could spend a day or two on his other statue.

His statue of her.

Her name was Rose.

Originally he wanted to name her Galatea but after a rather vivid dream he had one night, among the many that she often featured in, he had addressed her as Rose. The name stuck.

He hated to admit how much he dreamt of her, but she was never far from his mind. The first time he saw her was in a dream and that was when he decided to create a statue of her, but it was never enough. Caecilius never felt that she was ever finished; he had been working on her for years and yet he felt no closer to being done because there always seemed to be something that needed to be fixed; she had to be perfect.

He left his workshop, passing several of his servants on the way to the main part of his home. One of the many festivals celebrating the goddess Venus was not far off and everyone was preparing for the celebrations. He planned to invite many of his most popular patrons to his home to enjoy some of the festivities and to take a look at his most recent pieces.

He was also expecting a visitor that day; one of the city's augurs, Lucius Petrus Dextrus.

The man was a bit difficult to reason with and understand at times, his words often in the form of prophecy, but Caecilius treated him with the utmost respect. Lucius was coming by that day to take a look at how Caecilius' statue of Venus was coming along and to make certain that it would be done in time for the festival.

Caecilius bathed and changed into freshly cleaned clothing with the help of one of his servants. Being of a wealthy family it came as a surprise that he chose to go into the arts instead of politics, but he enjoyed his work, as did much of the Roman Empire. He made certain that he was presentable before he went to meet with Lucius.

They talked for a bit before venturing into the workshop where the yet to be finished statue waited.

"She will be done in time?" Lucius asked, inspecting the statue.

"Yes," Caecilius affirmed, "there are only a few minor details to smooth out and she will be ready for the festival. I am very close to being finished with her and I should be done in a few days."

"Good." Lucius scrutinized every bit of the statue it seemed before finally confirming the day he would be by to retrieve the sculpture. "You will be honored for your work at the celebrations. You are attending?"

"Of course. I will not miss the unveiling of my statue," Caecilius agreed. He then showed Lucius a few of his other works before the augur interrupted him.

"And what of this one? Who is she meant to be?"

Caecilius stared at the statue that Lucius gestured towards.

It was her. He swallowed.

"Oh. Well, I really haven't decided yet. I have been working on her for quite a while and, ah, well, she isn't finished yet." Caecilius often did not like to show her to others, for what reasons he didn't know.

"Fortuna," Lucius announced.

Caecilius was puzzled. "I'm sorry?"

Lucius looked upon him rather condescendingly. "She is the goddess Fortuna. She brings great luck."

Blinking, Caecilius turned his attention back to his statue and quirked a brow. Fortuna? Really? Well, he could see where Lucius got the idea as there was a cornucopia under one of Rose's stone arms.

Lucius continued his observations, "Fate will change in her hands. She is Fortuna, great goddess of luck and fate."

Caecilius didn't know what to say. He had not intended her to be any goddess, simply the woman who haunted his hours at night. "I…see. She is still unfinished and I have much to fix before she is ready to be any goddess. I have some wine in the main house, if you are interested."

Turning his gaze away from Rose, Lucius stared hard at Caecilius. "Our fates are determined by the gods. Treasure their gifts."

Caecilius didn't really know what to say and instead cleared his throat, stammering out his agreement and offering wine again. Lucius kept his gaze on Caecilius for a few more moments before declining, stating that he had other affairs to attend to.

Walking him back to the main house, Caecilius bid the augur goodbye before making his way back to his workshop, Lucius' words on his mind. Rose was his pride and joy, the jewel of his work. He didn't intend for her to look like Fortuna, she didn't wear a blindfold around her eyes like many other statues of the goddess.

As he strolled into the room that held his favorite statue, Caecilius just stood there and stared longingly at the woman carved in stone. Taking a few steps closer, he let his fingers brush her cold, hard cheek wishing for nothing more than to feel soft warmth instead.

"Fantasizing again?" a voice piped up from behind Caecilius, making the man jump.

Whipping around, Caecilius glared at the intruder. "Germanus, how many times have I told you not to do that and not to come into my workshop without my consent?"

"Probably as any times as I've told you not to call me Germanus. You know I prefer to go by Jack, Doc." The tall, handsome man smirked.

Glowering halfheartedly, Caecilius stepped away from the statue. "Why must you insist on that ridiculous nickname?"

"Which one, Jack or Doc?"

Caecilius made a vague sound of disgust before replying, "Both."

The blue-eyed man pushed away from the doorway and walked into the room, giving Caecilius a large hug before showing him the bottle of wine in his hand. It was Caecilius' favorite.

"Well, it is much easier to say Jack than Germanus, especially in the throes of ecstasy." He grinned salaciously as Caecilius scowled. "As for the name Doc, well, you know why I call you that. You saved my life, just like a doctor. I would be dead if you hadn't taken care of me, old friend."

Thinking back to the first time they met, Caecilius could only shudder at what might have happened that night. "You shouldn't have antagonized them. It was only by sheer luck that I found you, otherwise you really would be dead."

Jack smirked, "Ah, the good luck given by the grace of Fortuna herself!" He swept his arms out and directed his praise towards the statue of Rose. Laughing, he mused, "Heard what that flounce Lucius said earlier; was sitting in the other room. Goddess she might be, but I doubt that she is Fortuna. If she were, you would be married by now."

"You shouldn't say such things about him, Jack. It's rude and bordering hubris." Although his words were meant to be stern, they came out in a laughing manner.

Jack merely shrugged, "That man is no god; he's an entity of the state. He doesn't need my respect."

Caecilius took the bottle of wine from Jack and threw one last look at his beautiful stone statue before leading the other man out of the room. "Just as well, he's not a man to anger. He has power and authority."

They walked up the slight incline towards the main house. Jack commented, "As I said earlier, Doc, you should find yourself a wife. Being lonely the rest of your life is hardly a way to live and waiting for the literal woman of your dreams to appear is not going to make you happy."

Rolling his eyes, Caecilius muttered, "I'm not waiting nor do I wish for a wife. I just want to work on my statues in peace, thank you."

"Whatever you say, Doc. You keep working on that that Rose statue of yours so much it's as though you hope that you'll be able to carve her to life. When will she be done?"

They entered into one of Caecilius' side rooms, just off of his bedroom, where he often entertained friends. Jack sat on one of the small beds along the wall while Caecilius grabbed some goblets for their wine.

He felt cornered by Jack's questions but he knew the man was right. He would never feel satisfied with his statue of Rose because she lacked that one quality that would finish her; the breath of life.

She was everything he ever wanted and yet could not have. He was already thankful for all the things he already had; a home, decent wealth, and a warm bed at night, but still, it wasn't enough. This life meant nothing to him if he couldn't share it with her.

They toasted before sipping from the wine, Caecilius pondering how to change the subject before Jack beat him to the punch.

"So, Doc, who all is coming to your party during the festivities?"

Grinning, Caecilius boasted, "Oh, the usual lot. Caius and his family, the Livius family, and the Marcius family, along with my many buyers."

He was usually not one for parties and festivities, but those were some of the best times for him to showcase his work. He had made several statues throughout the years, but he had to admit, this year had been particularly good.

Jack clapped him on the shoulder. "Congratulations, Doctor! You are becoming one of the most famous men in the Roman Empire. Soon you'll be the personal sculptor of the emperor himself!" Downing the rest of his goblet in a flourish, Jack reached for the wine bottle again. "Really, with your talent, there should be dozens of unmarried women falling at your feet, Doc."

Caecilius grumbled self-deprecatingly, "I seriously doubt that, Jack. I am too old for many women to find much interest in."

"Nonsense! You are a handsome man with much wealth and the talented hands of an artist." Jack waggled his eyebrows at him. "Honestly, you would make a woman very happy with those hands of yours."

Caecilius flinched as he thought about the only woman he would ever want to make happy. He just wished that she wasn't merely the desperate imaginings of a lonely man.

"Yes, well, I'm not interested in getting married, Jack."

"So you've mentioned. Still, if there was anyone you wished to spend your life with, would you? Someone who could make you want to get married?" Jack prodded.

His gaze turning towards the only window in the room, watching the sun dip beneath the horizon, Caecilius considered Jack's words. He would, if he could, marry the woman of his dreams. He would marry Rose if it were possible.

But those were just dreams and this was his reality.

He could not have her and there was no one else in the world that he wanted. A lonely life carving statues was all he could really look forward to and he had resigned himself to that kind of future.

"Maybe," he murmured.

Jack's sympathetic look didn't help his mood, but he chose to ignore it.

"You know, Doc, something might happen during this year's festival. Maybe you'll find a 'Rose' among thorns; someone who might catch your eye. My suggestion, go out and meet some new people during the festival, who knows what might happen."

Caecilius frowned and muttered, "Yeah, I might get mugged."

Barking out a laugh, Jack threw his arm around Caecilius' shoulder, "Well then, old friend, allow me to show you around and you won't have to worry about that."

Caecilius seriously doubted that, but what harm could it do? Maybe he might really meet someone who didn't grate on his nerves. Someone who might even be pleasant to be around. "Alright, Jack, I'll give it a try, but don't expect anything."

"At least you're not giving up. Now, what kind of wine will you be serving this year?"

The two of them spent the rest of the evening discussing the ins and outs of the festival and the preparations for Caecilius' dinner party. By the time they both called it a night, Jack left to find his usual guest room while Caecilius stumbled into his own room.

He barely managed to strip off the several decorations that he wore to impress Lucius before sinking onto his bed for the night, asleep within seconds.

He was dreaming of her again; they were lounging against a tree overlooking the countryside. Her honey blonde hair was loose and strands were flying in her face from the light breeze. She lay on his chest, smiling up at him, tongue caught between her teeth. "I missed you," she whispered.

He brushed away a strand that was stuck to her lips, catching her underneath the chin with his fingers. "I missed you too. I wish we could meet more often."

"Soon, love," she murmured, her gaze falling to his lips.

He leaned down just as she lifted her head and their lips met. It was slow and tender, no hurry at all. He felt her hands dance along his face before diving into his hair. He angled his head and deepened the kiss. They broke away too soon for his liking and hers, judging by the look of her flushed but very happy face.

"You are everything to me, but I cannot have you." He grimaced and turned away from her to look at the beautiful cloud dotted sky. "I am just a lonely old man."

Her expression was sad and pained, but a glimmer of hope shined in her eyes. "You are so much more than that and someday I will show you how incredible you really are. Please do not give up. There is so much I wish to tell you. So much I wish to show you. For now, though, this will have to do."

And with that, she lay back against his chest again, closing her eyes and listened to the steady beat of his heart. "Someday," she murmured sleepily, "there shall be a second heart beating right alongside yours."