The Royal Guardian

By: Sokai

Disclaimer: I, Sokai, do not claim ownership to the workings of W.I.T.C.H. -- I leave that honor up to Elisabetta Gnone. Nor do I own Meg Cabot's "The Princess Diaries" series (even though this story isn't even really related to the series. Just don't want to hear law suit claims LoL). However, I can and DO claim to own this story and its inspired ideas FROM said series.

Note: Foowah. Evil work and other responsibilities. For ONCE? I've nothing major to say in this note. LoL So enjoy.

This chapter was created in December 2006.

Chapter Thirteen

Thursday, November 2nd, 1:15 pm,

Vandom Loft, My Bedroom

Oh, my God. You will never believe what just happened.

Talk about embarrassing.

Understatement, really, which actually doesn't say much in overall terms to my life lately, but still.

I think that it could actually give the H.B.F. (Halloween Ball Fiasco, yes) a run for its money as a close call for first place.

Okay. Enough rambling.

What am I going on about? Well, like I said in my last entry, Matt had text messaged me in the middle of my writing my emotionally healing "pros and cons" list (well, it kind of healed me emotionally, anyway), and . . .

Well, here. Let me just quickly jot down what our conversation was like (with after-effect commentary thrown in by me in parentheses):

Matt's Phone Text: Hey, Kermit. U dead?

My Phone Text?

Matt's Phone Text: Gasp! She's still functional.

My Phone Text: Am I missing something?

Matt's Phone Text: LoL Not really, no. We all just figured that the reason u've been M.I.A. & seeming to avoid us was b/c u got kidnapped & hacked up into fish bait.

(See how eerie that that boy seems to always be on the same wavelength or something as mine? Maybe I'll hire him as Chief Ambassador or Executive of something. At least then I'll have one person in my stupid royal court who won't think that I'm a total screw up. God, now I'm depressed again . . .)

My Phone Text: Ha Ha, very funny, Shaggy.

(That's my nickname for him, since he refuses to cut his hair. I've always found it "mesmerizing," when I had liked him and we were still dating, but now . . . It's still cool and all, but it looks like a brown colored mop that's permanently set upon his head. No, no. That's just gross. Okay, more like "Cousin It." Boy. It's amazing what one notices about another once the proverbial "Beer Goggles" of love have been taken off . . . Wait. No. Beer Goggles are for inebriated people, and the whole perceiving one they used to deem unattractive as hot or whatever. This is more like Rose-colored glasses being taken off, then. Only, I still love Matt. Just, not love-love. Whatever! Ugh, I hate being sick. I make zero sense, and ramble on like a buffoon.)

Matt's Phone Text: So ok. Ur fine. So what's up, then? 1, where were u 2-day? 2, y have u not been returning any of the girls' calls or msgs, prd, within the last 2 days, & 3, what's this I hear about u ditching swim practice?

(Again that's when I thought about this place being a small town, the moment I'd read all of that from Matt. And then it made me feel worse that: 1, I had to miss practice over something so dumb as being the apparent sole heir to a throne that I don't even want, and now that I'm sick will probably risk missing more practice time, thus ruining my chances of winning; and 2, if word gets out that I am a princess before it's supposed to or whatever, it'll spread like wildfire in no time at all. I really need to be home schooled from now on.)

My Phone Text: I have a very good reason 4 all of it: I'm sick.

(I guess being sick had come in handy, after all. Now, when Gracie chews me out for missing practice, I can tell her that I had fallen ill, which would be the truth. Now, the girls will be trickier to convince, since usually whenever I or they are sick, that's when we contact one another the most, so we won't die of boredom if our sickness didn't do us in first.)

Matt's Phone Text: IC. Well, that explains it, least. Guess I can't come over 2 drop off ur hmwrk then, huh?

My Phone Text: Cripes. Almost 4-got about that in all of the commotion.

Matt's Phone Text: Commotion? What commotion? (Oops.)

My Phone Text: Uh, u know. Being sick & delirious (Smooth.)

Matt's Phone Text: Not much of a stretch from how u r when healthy, kid LoL

My Phone Text: Stow it. NE way, get back 2 math wrk b4 u get detention, which u'd deserve 4 that shot, btw.

Matt's Phone Text: Wouldn't happen. The lady 3's me. Then again, what lady doesn't?

(Gotta admire his strong ego.)

My Phone Text: Um, me?

Matt's Phone Text: U don't count. Ur what I like 2 call a "brief moment of insanity." Besides, Professor Kopilak wasn't there, 2 day. Study hall instead, cuz the sub was a prof. in English, not Math -- a fine example of our tax $ wrk. NE way, he let us out a bit early & so here I am.

(Figures that there'd be a substitute teacher for my math class when I'm not there to enjoy it.)

My Phone Text: 1, bite me, Shaggy. Like u were some prize, ur self. I dumped u, remember? & 2, what do u mean "here u r?" & I g2g. These texts r goin 2 kill my phone bill. Urs 2, u cheapskate bastard.

Matt's Phone Text: 1 to ur 1: I don't know where u've been, so no thanx. I might catch w/e rabid disease u so obviously harbor. Oh, & my records show that I dumped u. 2 to ur 2: My job pays btr than urs, baby cakes, so nice try on that one. & 3? I mean that I'm here, right outside of ur loft. Thought I'd check in on u b4 heading 2 the gym. So u'd btr apologize after I get in there. 'Bye.

And before I could send another text back, saying no, I could hear Matt already knocking on the front door.

Don't get me wrong.

It's not that I didn't want to see him. On the contrary. I could honestly use the company of the non-familial variety, and Matt's usually great at lifting up my spirits by distracting me with non-related, more humorous situations (unless all I want to do is cry, then he just hugs me until I've had my fill. It's kind of like having a big brother. Well, a nice big brother, anyway, like Peter, Taranee's brother).

But I didn't want to run the risk of my mother stupidly telling him "who I really am." Or worse, what if "Eli" was still hanging around, and he ended up telling him?

No. Freaking. Way.

At least Matt would never believe it.

Well, no he might. I mean, he believed me when I had admitted to being a Guardian of the Veil alongside the girls, after confessing it to him a few months after we'd broken up.

Well . . . after he'd accidentally seen the "proof," anyway.

Anyway, no matter how Matt reacted to this new news, if he found out (which I would prefer that it happen after I've graduated from high school and move far away and onto a private island or something), I wanted to be the one to tell him -- not crazy Eli.

So, as soon as I heard that knock, I panicked and scrambled out of bed as fast as I could (however, not before "kissing" the floor first, due to my having gotten tangled within my bedsheets, and fell onto the floor as a result), but wasn't quick enough, sadly. (Of course, right?)

Instead, I end up barreling into the sable-colored back of some chick who apparently had been standing as though on guard in front of my door.

"Ahh!" I completely screamed out in surprise as I fell right on top of the dark haired woman and my heart went right up into my throat, while she only emitted a tiny groan like she was used to this sort of thing happening to her or whatever.

I would've been even more embarrassed by the calamity, had I not then, to my horror, witnessed Matt being bum-rushed by three mega bulky-looking guys, all of whom were dressed in black just like the woman. They all looked like the guy I had seen in the plaza suite after I'd been woken up by smelling salts.

And so, even though I hadn't quite yet put two and two together, I still immediately knew that this was "royal related," and that I would be in major trouble when it came time to explaining everything to Matt (assuming that he hadn't gotten the wind knocked out of him and passed out).

"What is the meaning of this? Wilhelmina, what are you doing out of bed? A young princess needs her rest," Eli regrettably told me from his place in the living room. He was causally seated and calmly sipping on what I suppose is a cup of tea.

I chose to ignore him as the female version of "M.I.B." helped me onto my feet and I scanned the room for Mom. I figured that maybe she could be useful and help me to buffer things out while I tried to explain things to the now flabbergasted-looking Matt (whom the guards or whomever roughly began to pull onto his own feet just then).

"W . . . what the hell -- is -- going -- on!? W-Will! Who are these dudes? Who's that freaking guy? And where is your mom? Holy Christ! Don't tell me that I was right about your having been kidnapped?" Matt asked frantically in between breaths, with a massively distinct air of fear decorating his speech.

You could totally tell that he was thinking something like:

I love you, Will -- you're my best friend. But had I known that this was what was going on for real, I totally would've gone straight to the gym, instead.

Can't say that I'd blame him to think that way. I know that I'd probably do the same thing. Well, maybe. At least, I would if the person were Mary Rosenberg who was in danger, anyway.

Anyhow, growing nauseous all over again, I managed to wrench myself free of the guard-chick's kung fu-like grip and scrambled over to Matt, who was still being manhandled by the trio of might.

"H-hey, Matt! Right on time! Thanks for bringing over my homework!" I said nervously, putting emphasis upon Matt's name and the part about homework, just in case Eli and his "cronies" would still have suspicions about Matt and think he was a stalker or whatever, as they all obviously seemed to believe. (Well, maybe not Eli, since he continued to sip away at his warm beverage as though without a care in the world. I guess his bodyguards or other people who protect him back home were well trained and did their jobs well, each and every time there might have been a potential threat made against him in the past. That, or he just didn't care, period, which I highly doubt, even though I just met the guy a day ago. I mean, I'm Eli's country's "precious cargo" and "one hope left;" if he had his complete way, I'll bet he'd seal me within a bubble or locked tower to make certain that I didn't wander anywhere until I became queen).

"You sure you do not wish us to evacuate this . . . young man from the premises, your highness?" the tallest guard guy holding onto Matt asked me, which made me want to throw up all over him in embarrassment and honestly growing sickness.

'Your highness.' Good Lord. That is just too weird to hear myself being referred to as. And in front of others who are outside of the swayer loop?

"Twilight Zone" scenario.

"'Your highness?' Will, what --"

"-- Ha, ha! Very funny, y-you guys! I-I'll just bring him into m-my bedroom!" I said quickly, practically tripping over my words, as well as my feet, as I moved forward to seize my visibly confused friend away from the finally backing off guys.

"I suggest you mind your manners while within my niece's presence, young man, lest you wish to face the consequences," I could hear Eli cryptically mutter from behind his warm cup, eyeballing the two of us as I dragged Matt down the hall and into my bedroom.

"Oh, my God, Matt. I am so sorry about all of that," I apologized, closing the door technically in the female guard or whatever's face as she replaced herself in front of my door.

I turned around to look at Matt, who stared back at me with complete and utter obfuscation -- not to mention a bit of fear.

And once more, I couldn't really blame him.

". . . Just . . . just give me a minute to . . . to swallow my heart back down into my chest here, as well as try not to piss my pants," he whispered, backing away from me before hunching over and putting his hands onto his knees.

Poor thing.

"Matt, I --" I started to say, before Matt had blindly raised a single finger up to me to signal that I stop speaking.

Screw worrying about what Matt would think if he found out that I was a princess. I was now worried of what he was thinking right at that moment. Was he thinking that I was too weird, or insane, or whatever to be around anymore, all joking aside?

Or worse, was he now afraid of me?

I did not want to lose any of my friends over genealogy that I cannot do anything to change.

So, right when I was preparing to come clean about everything, Matt suddenly straightened his posture and smiled softly at me.

". . . Never a dull moment within the world of Will Vandom, huh?" he asked with an exhale, before moving to take a seat upon my used tissue-riddled bed. "So! Are you going to explain this one straight out, or make up bogus excuses like you always used to do, before finally telling me that you were a Guardian of the Veil?"

I couldn't help myself.

Maybe it was because of my sickness.

Maybe it was because I was feeling so relieved that Matt obviously wasn't afraid of me as I had thought.

Whatever the reason, I suddenly found myself instantly blubbering like a two year old and collapsed onto the bed beside him before I could stop myself.

"Aww . . . Hey. What's the matter, Kermit?" Matt asked in his concerned, older brother tone, and began to rub my back.

The obsessing bum that I am, I, for a nanosecond, silently began to wish that it could have been Caleb who'd come to visit me and later comfort me like this. But then I had to swiftly remind myself that everything but what I want will always happen for and to me, and that I should just deal already.

Sobbing uncontrollably, I looked up at Matt and blurted out,

"I . . . I was . . . was so scared that . . . t-that you would hate me now or so . . . something!"

Matt laughed in surprise, patting my head softly as though I were a cat.

"Are you serious? It was surprising and unexpected, sure, but to hate you for having company who are a tad too overprotective of you? Forget about it!"

"Well, yeah, but --"

"-- No, buts! I may rag on you from time to time, but you and I are still thick as thieves! Just breathe, and relax, okay? Or else you'll never get better, since, sorry to say, you look like Hell," Matt reassured before playfully insulting me and ruffling up my already messy hair.

I didn't bother to speak just yet, as I was still too relieved that Matt apparently didn't seem to think much of the bizarre debacle a few moments before. I suppose maybe he figured that if he could deal with being aware of the fact that things like magic and evil truly existing, then nothing else could or would really phase him.

So I hoped, anyway, as I had then decided that I was honestly about three seconds away from telling him everything that's happened in the last day and a half.

Taking another deep breath, wiping away my tears with the back of one hand as I took the fresh tissue that Matt had then handed to me with the other, I opened my mouth to confess, when he once again interrupted me (which was growing a bit annoying, I must admit).

"Now, are you going to tell me why there's a 'party' going on within your living room and I wasn't invited? Oh, and why werethey all practically kissing your feet, what with all of the 'princess' and 'your highness' comments?"

I didn't even try to make excuses, like Matt had already asked me not to do.

"Um . . . because . . . it's . . . what I am?" I answered meekly, wrinkling my nose in embarrassment.

Matt stared blankly at me for a few seconds before bursting out into raucous laughter.

Thanks.

"That . . . that's a g-good one, Will! N-no, really! What's up?" Matt asked in between his guffawing. His face, by that time, was super red and his eyes were already tearing up. I'd feel upset by his slightly insensitive reaction, if I weren't so sure that I wouldn't react the same way if the shoe were on the other foot.

Waiting for Matt to calm down a bit, I rested a hand upon his shoulder and stared hard into his eyes to let him know that I was dead serious.

"Shaggy . . . I'm serious . . . unfortunately . . ." I said quietly yet firmly, watching Matt's expression thankfully and gradually become sincere.

"W-wait . . . No. Come on now, Will. I mean, even if that was the case -- which I'm not saying that it is -- don't you think that it would've been something you'd tell me ages ago? Or something that the girls would have passed mention to?" he asked with a thoughtful frown.

I shook my head sadly.

". . . Well, yeah, I-I guess. I don't know, but . . . I didn't find out about it until recently -- yesterday, to be more precise . . ."

Raising an eyebrow, Matt reclined back onto my bed and smiled softly.

"All right. This ought to be good. I rather enjoy 'story time with Will,'" he joked momentarily, before gazing at me seriously once more.

So, with an exhale, I told him everything that had happened up until that moment.

By the time I was finished, I was completely winded, but felt immensely better. It felt as though a huge weight had been lifted.

Even better? Matt didn't really look so skeptic, or as though he wanted to leave. If anything, he almost looked perceptive.

". . . Well, no wonder you got sick," he jested yet again, patting the empty spot next to him.

"Matt, this isn't funny," I said back to him, before moving over to sit properly next to him.

"Okay, okay. So I guess it isn't so much in the subjective sense. And I also guess that you really are telling the truth about this. I mean, not to say that you couldn't dream up a story like this, it's just that the whole 'princess' angle would be something that Cornelia or even Mary Rosenberg would throw in -- not you," Matt said with a smirk and loud yawn.

I had to admit. He had a point, now that I actually thought about it. I mean, this would be something that either woman would concoct.

Well, no. If Cornelia did it, it would be because that it was probably the truth. Mary would always do anything for the sole purpose of wanting to be the center of attention twenty-four-seven.

As I thought this, I heard Matt add while stretching,

"And besides -- you already had enough on your plate as it was, what with saving mine and everyone else's asses on a daily basis. I don't think that you'd have enough time to juggle aristocracy alongside perpetual heroism. And let's not forget that you hate having all eyes on you -- and being a princess pretty much ranks up there at number one in that regard."

"Yeah, no kidding," I replied in agreement, falling backwards onto the bed. "So does this mean that you honestly believe me?"

Matt playfully punched my arm in reply at this. I guess he found something amusing within my inquisition.

I could only stare anxiously at him a moment before he finally spoke.

"Well, duh! Of course I believe you, Kermit!"

"Well, then why did you have to hit me for?" I asked heatedly, sitting up to properly rub my arm to lull the growing pain away.

Matt rolled his eyes and shrugged.

"Because it was a stupid question, that's why."

Oh. Okay, then. Thanks for clearing that up for me.

"No, it wasn't! When I first told you the truth, you didn't believe me," I justifiably accused, hitting Matt back against his chest.

Matt smirked for yet the umpteenth time and lightly rubbed at where I had struck him.

"Not true. I thought it was funny. I still do. But I also believe you, for the reasons I'd already stated. Besides, you know whenever I don't believe something to be true. I'd have just said straight out that I don't believe it and then leave or something, I don't know. Point is, I believe you, okay? Last time: I -- be -- lieve you."

I could tell that Matt was starting to grow a bit irritated with me, because he felt compelled to annunciate every syllable to the last of his words, something he only did whenever, well, pissed.

So, deciding to drop it and move on, I cleared my throat and said,

"Oh. Well, thanks, then . . . I guess. But, any ideas on what I should do now?"

Exhaling thoughtfully, Matt puckered up his lips before responding.

"Doesn't sound like there's much you can do. I mean, this isn't exactly something you can just sweep underneath the rug or keep hidden from the masses as you do for being a Guardian. And hey, what about that? I don't really think that you will be able to keep that secret for much longer if you'll be within the public eye 'round the clock from now on."

Groaning, I squeezed my eyes shut and covered my face with my hands. Maybe I should have engaged in such a stimulating conversation as this after I had gotten healthy again, because my head felt like it was going to explode at that moment.

Sighing, I slowly pulled my hands away from my pasty-feeling face (super gross, I know) and turned my head to look at Matt, who looked honestly concerned.

"I know, I know! That realization had firmly sunk in about an hour ago, thanks. I have no clue what to do about any of this, period! That's why . . . well, I was hoping that you had any ideas?"

Insert-the-sound-of-a-game show-buzzer-sounding-off-for-the-wrong-choice-here. Because Matt suddenly burst out into another fit of giggles before stating,

"You serious? I'm still trying to adjust to the whole Guardian thing, let alone this! But I can see that this is really bothering you, so . . ."

"Yeah?" I asked, lightly nudging his foot with mine to coax him to continue.

"Best bet? Tell the girls, and ask them for help and support, because it's --"

"-- Wait, what? No, way! They can't know! It's bad enough that you know, actually!"

This outburst did not bode well for young Matthew, because he abruptly jumped up from his spot on my bed and scowled down at me like a reprimanding father or annoying teacher or something.

"Will, come on! Be logical, here! The entire-freaking-planet is going to know about this. You can't possibly believe that you'll be able to keep it hidden for very long -- and with Taranee's übercreepy mind reading parlor trick? Doomed."

Biting down onto my lip, I sat up.

"I get it, all right? But . . . this blows! And since I'm stuck in this thing for now, I am going to follow through with it in my way. It's the least that this sucky situation can do for me . . . and you're going to help me," I added carefully as well as a bit darkly, while narrowing my eyes at him in a challenging manner.

Matt, in contrast, looked back at me in sheer astonishment, clearly not used to being at the tail end of my aggressive side.

"Whoa! You mean, lie and cover for you? Forget it! You know that I'm not big on deception, and -- no! We're not even going to continue this conversation!" he exclaimed, raising his strong hands up in dismissal before moving to stand by my window.

I felt a small smirk of my own forming for a change as I rose from the bed and approached Matt from behind. Why? Because I knew that what I planned on trapping him with in the next few seconds would be something that he would not be able to maneuver out of.

And so, folding my arms across my chest, I grinned at Matt's back as I said,

"If you don't help me until I'm ready t --"

"-- Yeah, and that's when? Probably never?" Matt interrupted me while continuing to look out of the window.

"Shut up, will you? Anyway, if you don't help me, then I'll tell Mary that you're in love with her."

I watched Matt's back instantly tense up upon hearing this. My game plan was working.

"She wouldn't believe you . . ." he muttered in disgust, stuffing his hands deep into his pockets.

I moved myself to stand in front of Matt and smiled generously up at him.

"She would if I acted all annoyed or hurt by it, so in that way she'd feel 'victorious' about the 'fact,'" I reasoned, watching Matt's face wrinkle in continued disdain.

Check, and mate.

". . . Fine! All right? Fine. I won't spill the beans about you and your 'royaldom' or whatever, your highness! But mark my words: the longer you lie about it to your so called best friends, the bigger the explosion's going to be once it finally does spill out," he conceded with a small smile to let me know that he wasn't seriously upset with me, before bestowing that forewarning onto me.

And that was that.

Well, the last of Matt's lecture before he decided to leave the loft through the use of my fire escape, rather than risking the chance of getting tackled again by the throng of muscle menin the living room.

But, anyway. There it is.

Matt now knows that I'm a princess. I'm actually now more relieved than mortified that he knows as a final and consistent emotion to this, because like I said, now I can vent about it to him in the future if need be.

But, now I'm also feeling pretty nervous. Why? Because Matt has a point. I mean, it's super stupid and risky to keep this from the girls.

But it's definitely not because I don't trust them.

Are you kidding me? I've entrusted them with my life on so many different occasions that it's ridiculous.

But I don't want to deal with the onslaught of interrogations and other things that I'm not yet ready to face.

Pathetic, maybe, but hey. Like I told Matt, if when and to whom this whole princess thing comes out is about the only thing that I can firmly hold onto within my hands at the moment, then I'm going to hold on as tightly as I can, for as long as I can.

-- End of Chapter Thirteen

(A.N. Lemme alone. Semi-cliffhanger ending and bleh chapter, I know, butttttttttttttttt! Oh well. LoL All of it was just me taking crap out of my actual diary from a few years ago and putting it in here. Fuh-leh. LoL Anyway. This computer blows, so it makes me less motivated to sit here and type out the chapters I hand write and then edit, blah blah. Getting impatient for my laptop to finished getting fixed, so . . . yep. LoL But I'll try to get over this feeling and put out the next chapter soon, since it's written, etc.)