Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
The Holly and the Ivy - 5. Demonstration of Strength
The Holly and the Ivy
Chapter Five
I was leaning against the bathroom door at 5.30 in the morning, sorting through my feelings. Angry. Yes. Make this bold, underlined and in Italics. Confused. What I always thought was me wasn’t me but some other people – dead people. Luis and Tristan. Inside me? I was only the glue? I don’t think so! I’m no glue. All this was giving me a headache. My sleep-addled brain needed caffeine. Badly. This wasn’t a problem I could solve quickly while hiding in the bathroom. I needed more time.
Now to face the day. “What about breakfast? I could use some coffee.”
Diarmad hadn’t moved from the love set by the window. He turned his head when I stepped back into the room, smiling tentatively. “Coffee would be good.”
"Hmm… I could make waffles, what do you think? Or crêpes? With vanilla-coffee-syrup?” I still wasn't happy with him, but during the short trip to the bathroom, I had cooled off enough to figure he didn't know me anymore than I knew him, but he knew Tristan and Luis. He was probably searching for the something he would recognize within me, because he missed them.
It’s time for you to get to know the glue, my king. King!
“Yes, to coffee now, and waffles are my favorite food. We could say I voted for you making them and not the cinnamon buns.” Diarmad watched my reaction. I think he realized I had been angry with him and was glad I was getting over it.
“Cinnamon buns! Shit! I promised Landyn. What time is it?” I looked around for my phone.
Did I know waffles are his favorite breakfast food because Tristan or Luis knew it? Nah, it’s just a weird coincidence. Right?
“Too late to make them today and I want the waffles.” Spoken like a king.
I opened my mouth to tease him about his regal behavior, but stopped when I noticed how tense he was. What did I say wrong? He was looking out of the window again, his lips pursed. It felt as if he wanted me gone. Then I saw his hands clasping the armrests. I was such an idiot! He couldn’t get up alone. He needed help but hated asking me. I went over and held both hands out for him, so he could pull himself up, using me as leverage. It worked perfectly, and even though he had to grip my shoulders for support, it was still obvious, he was getting stronger. A brilliant smile brightened up his face. He was feeling it too.
Standing this close to him made me realize two things: First, he was considerably taller than me - at least four inches - and second, his white sleep-shirt was hugging his broad chest quite nicely. It made me want to run my hands all over it, move closer still to feel more of the heat coming off his body. I stepped back quickly, trying to stop those irritating thoughts, but couldn’t get far because his hand was still gripping my shoulder. Averting my eyes from his face, I found myself looking down at his blue and white striped pajama pants. It was obvious he was... very excited being so close to me. I was wearing just a baggy grey shirt that had seen better days, hanging over my faded black boxers, conveniently covering my own growing excitement. Damn. I took in a deep breath. “Maybe we should get dressed first?”
The grip on my shoulder lessened. “Yes, that would be a good idea. I don’t want you running around in just your boxers outside this room.”
Well they aren’t that bad, a little tight maybe…
He seemed to fight a battle with himself for a moment and then finally asked in a quiet voice, “Could you please get the dark charcoal pants and matching shirt out of my wardrobe for me? And… some underwear also? And put them in the bathroom?” He then shuffled over to the bed where he sat down heavily.
“Sure.” I opened the door of his wardrobe to see if I could find the clothes he wanted. Holding up a pair of dark grey pants, I asked, “Do you mean these?”
“Yes, thank you. In the drawer underneath are the belts. Underwear and socks are in the dresser. Noël, I’m so sorry to bother you with this. Maybe I better call Ronan…”
“Nah, that’s okay, I really don't mind.”
I stood there with the clothes in my hand when I remembered he'd asked me to put them into the bathroom for him. Fuck! “What about the shower? Um... do you need help in there also?”
“Err… no, I have a plastic chair in the shower stall, so I can do everything alone, but I would like you to be outside in case I slip if you don't mind. It happened before. And you should go first; you will be much faster than me.”
The last words came out surprisingly angry and I realized again, how much he really hated his helplessness, and dependence on others.
After a quick shower, I put on light grey jeans and a black shirt, and then helped Diarmad to get in the bathroom. Waiting outside, I tried the whole time not to think about Diarmad being in the shower. Naked. I need to get a grip here.
***
I’m not exactly a morning person and with the little sleep I'd had that night, I decided the most important thing was coffee, so I did that first. After placing a steaming mug in front of Diarmad, I took mine and went over to the cupboards in search of the waffle iron and everything else I needed. I asked, “Do you know where the waffle iron is?” To my great surprise, Diarmad knew where everything was and I had to ask. “You cook sometimes?”
“I used to, yes. I found out it is a good way to break my daily routines sometimes. Do you know how oddly relaxing it is to put together a complicated recipe?”
Well that explained a few things. After preheating the waffle iron, I mixed the ingredients for the batter. Spontaneously I added a generous dash of ground cinnamon, because I knew he loved it. The moment the brown powder mixed with the batter, my heart beat faster. Was this my idea? Nah, can’t be because how the hell could I know he loves cinnamon waffles? Fuck! Luis!
I watched him from across the room. He was sitting at the table, lost in his own thoughts again. His slightly disheveled chestnut brown hair appeared almost coppery in the light of the kitchen lamp, and I had to clench my hands against the urge to go over and run my fingers through it to sooth his troubled thoughts.
You've got to be freakin' kidding me. I’m going nuts here… That's the only explanation.
Then the others slowly drifted in, one by one lured by the scent of coffee and freshly baked goods. Simon and Becca at least helped by making eggs, omelet, sausages, and some tea.
Everyone had their favorite mug and grinned when the simple white mug I’d given Diarmad earlier was quickly exchanged for a royal blue one with a golden border, a big golden crown and the word ‘King’ printed underneath. But what really threw me was when Landyn handed Ronan his mug; it was white with a sitting teddy bear on it, which held a heart. Written on it was ‘Beary sweet’. Holy shit! And Landyn didn’t get clocked on the head.
There was no question, these people were more than comfortable around Diarmad. They were his tight knit circle, the few he really trusted, his friends. Watching them squabbling and joking made him more approachable, human. Only he isn’t human. Right?
Suddenly, Landyn said, “Noël, you made cinnamon waffles.”
I stopped stirring my coffee and tensed, feeling caught. Everyone was watching me. “Um…yes, it kinda was a spur of the moment decision. Don’t you like cinnamon waffles?”
“I do, but the King loves them. How did you know they are his favorite? Did he tell you?” He smiled knowingly, and Ronan mouthed ‘Luis’ to Becca.
“No, he didn't.” I knew. Somehow, I knew.
“Uhu… they’re good.” He nudged Ronan in the ribs, grinning broadly when he saw my hand fidgeting with the mug.
The man really irritated me. “What?”
“Nothing… just the right amount of cinnamon, right Sire?” he asked Diarmad, with a much too innocent expression.
I felt this knot tightening in my chest again. This whole situation was driving me crazy; it confused me no end and nobody seemed to see that. I grabbed a plate of scrambled eggs with trembling hands, wishing I could throw it in Landyn’s face, when the doorbell rang.
“What now? Nobody knows we’re here…,” Ronan grumbled. Pushing his chair back, he went to answer the door. Then we heard the loud voice of a man demanding to see the King.
Landyn cursed quietly, “Keelan McGill...”
“Who’s Keelan McGill?” I asked, wondering why everybody stilled when Landyn said the name.
“Moira’s father.” He nodded in the direction of a closed door opposite the kitchen, “Sire, I suggest you and Noël receive our guests in the study. I will do my best to keep them busy until you’re ready.”
Diarmad smiled tightlipped. “I would appreciate that.”
What? Why me?
Still not understanding what was going on, I helped Diarmad up, and together we went into the study, while Landyn ushered McGill into the living room. Ronan followed right behind us with a grim expression on his face.
When we entered the room and I saw the impressive maple wood desk and the dark, formal interior, I immediately understood why Landyn wanted Diarmad to meet this Keelan McGill in his study. This room had been designed to be intimidating. Regal.
As soon as he'd settled down behind his desk, Diarmad showed a completely different side of his personality. His body posture changed and he switched to powerful, determined leader in the blink of an eye.
Ronan touched my arm, and when I looked at him, he gave me a short bow. “Noël, please stand at the King’s left side, this way you can support him in case it’s necessary and Landyn can protect both of you.”
We heard a loud, angry voice from the living room. I looked at Diarmad questioningly, but he only mouthed ‘later’ to me and winked.
“How dare you keep me waiting like a common petitioner? I demand─"
“The king is ready to receive you in his study now, if you would please come with me.” Ronan interrupted the man’s rant, his voice reserved, but polite.
He came into the room, followed by a tall, wiry man, Moira, and two heavy muscled guys in black suits, obviously their bodyguards.
As soon as he saw me, Keelan McGill shouted, "I demand severe punishment for this boy! He attacked my daughter unprovoked–”
“Disrespectful behavior seems to run in the family." I turned to Diarmad, then as an afterthought added, "Interesting.”
Landyn, who came in behind the two bodyguards, suppressed a smile, while Ronan grinned openly. Positioned on the right side of Diarmad’s chair, he folded his arms in front of his chest, clearly signaling nobody would get past him without a fight.
Landyn quickly walked around the desk to stand slightly in front of me, ready to intervene if necessary.
Diarmad ignored the man’s crude behavior as well as my remark, and asked calmly, “Keelan McGill, what can I do for you?”
“You know damn well what you can do for me!” the man snarled. He pointed at me. “I demand punishment because of the…incident that happened here in your house! My daughter─”
“I agree.” The words escaped me, and everyone was looking at me. Shit! “She needs punishment for threatening the King in his own house no less, and continuous disrespectful behavior.” I couldn’t believe I had said that aloud! Keelan McGill couldn’t believe it either, if the fact he was almost frothing with anger by then was any indication.
He recovered quickly, though. “How dare you speak to me like that, human? You deliberately twisted my words…” He took a step in my direction, a look of repugnance flickering over his face, when he said human.
Landyn tensed beside me, but Diarmad’s hard voice interrupted McGill, “First, my intended mate has every right to speak to you. Second, he must have felt threatened by your daughter, otherwise, he would not have reacted the way he did. You know well enough he normally couldn’t have access to his powers yet, unless he feels his life is endangered," and after a slight pause, "or mine.”
“Yeah, you better ask her why she gave those hot, burning vibes…,” I muttered.
That immediately drew everybody’s attention on me, and Diarmad asked with a tense voice, “What ‘hot, burning vibes’?”
Shit, what have I said now? “Well, when I touched her hand, I felt those um…vibes and her eyes… they had those weird reflections in them, like flames…,” I stuttered.
“Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?”
Why is this so important? My heart started to beat faster, I felt as if I was getting in serious trouble, but for the life of me didn't know why. “Um… I suppose I forgot… sort of…,” I murmured.
“Just to be clear what we’re talking about here; these were clearly offensive powers he described, used in the presence of the King,” Landyn stated, his voice suddenly hard and cold. I had never heard him talk like that before.
Keelan McGill scoffed. “That’s nonsense and you know it. Moira would never do such a thing; my daughter knows her place. He’s making things up.”
“I don’t think so. How could Noël make things up that he had no knowledge of? And why is what he just described your family's offensive powers?” Diarmad asked heatedly, tapping with the little finger of his right hand unwillingly on the desktop.
He wanted to stand up, be eye to eye with McGill. Quickly looking at Landyn, I saw him move his hand in Diarmad’s direction, making grabbing-like motions. I understood. Trying to attract no attention, I placed my hand on Diarmad’s back, which immediately seemed to help him. He rose from his chair with ease. I never let go of him even though my hand slid down to his waist, hoping that only I could feel how tense he really was.
Moira’s eyes widened when she saw how seemingly without effort Diarmad walked around the desk and then stood right in front of them. Dressed in dark grey pants and matching button-down shirt, he managed, exuding power and control from his every pore.
I somehow knew, I had to remain in physical contact with him. Only with me doing this would Diarmad be able to pull this off. Therefore, I moved silently behind him, my right arm slightly touching his back.
Ronan wasn’t happy with this development though, as the big desk was now between him and his king, but that was part of Diarmad’s scheme. This was him signaling he could protect himself just fine. And me.
“I am very tempted to declare all of our former agreements unequivocally null and void. You and your daughter violated the terms both our parties agreed to half a year ago. A clan member of yours accessed their offensive powers in my presence and thereby threatened my intended mate and me in my own house. This is clearly forbidden by our laws alone, not to mention our treaty." Diarmad was practically vibrating with anger by then.
“In view of the fact that I am with my mate now - which I must emphasize is within our laws - and that your…concerns I am unfit to do my duty are unsubstantiated - as you can see for yourself - I think the treaty is no longer needed." He paused for effect, mustering his opponents with cold eyes.
“I’ve been willing to hold on to it however, to show you my good intentions and good will to overcome our…long-term difficulties. Although I can see now that my advisors have been right, and not punishing your daughter for her increasingly disrespectful behavior was interpreted as weakness, not kindness, like they predicted it would. I regret not having acted sooner. This mistake almost got my mate and I injured. Rest assured I won’t make this mistake again."
He stepped even closer into McGill's personal space. “Consider this a last warning McGill. Should any of your clan members use their offensive powers in my or my intended mate’s presence again, or threaten me or mine in any imaginable way, the McGill clan will be banned from Earth forever. You are dismissed.”
For a moment, McGill seemed as stunned as I was, but he recovered quickly. “You can’t ban me or my clan from Earth without valid proof of treason, as you well know. And a simple flicker of offensive power in your presence won’t count, I’m sure,” McGill countered. “You have no right to accuse me of treason; on the contrary, you will learn that I will call a council meeting to voice my doubt that you and your mate are living together within our laws, seeing how well you are. My daughter can no longer supervise the compliance with our law, as you sent her away, due to a minor occurrence, oh so conveniently. I will demand proof, which you will fail to bring, and then you and your wretched clan will finally be forced to leave this world, and my clan will rule.” Then he turned his eyes on me; his nostrils flared “And we’re not through either.”
- 56
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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