AN: As any of you who have read my other stories know, this is the time of year that I take a hiatus. Ash Wednesday is coming up this week and for Lent I always give up fanfiction and YouTube as my sacrifice. I just wanted to keep you all in the loop so the sudden halt in updates isn't unexpected. I will be back after Easter, in the meantime enjoy this chapter and don't forget to leave comments! :)
Chapter 10.
The next morning Wiccan woke up the earliest, again with the sunlight streaming in through the window. However this morning it didn't fill him with a sense of calm tranquility or beauty. Instead he felt betrayed. Like how could the sun shine so beautifully through his luxurious room giving the impression of vast wealth and easy living? How, when the reality was so much darker, so much bleaker? Dorrek had made a fair point, there was mockery in the beauty around him, because he was cursed to watch it fall into ruin.
Wiccan remembered the promise he made to Dorrek yesterday in the garden. Deep inside he still felt a swirling mix of emotions, anger at what Dorrek had been forced to suffer, worry for if Wiccan had the strength to undo it, determination, nervousness, and also driven motivation.
Not wanting to waste time sitting in bed he pulled himself from the warm plush comforter. The first thing he did was take a warm bath and looked over the bruises on his body. They were turning yellow and fading and would most likely be gone in another two days or so.
After the bath when the water turned cold he dressed in another button up shirt, this one white, and a clean set of dress pants. The air in the castle seemed to hold a slight chill to it and he had to wonder if it was possible that it snowed again last night. Or did it snow each night? He pondered. Was it an endless repeating pattern? Maybe designed by the enchantress to encase the castle and the grounds around it in more and more snow to help wipe away the existence of the place entirely.
Moving to the window he opened it and immediately was greeted by a gust of chilly air. Wiccan tried to find the footprints he and Dorrek would have left yesterday but they were long gone. It had snowed – quite a bit in fact.
Sighing and leaning forward on the windowsill, he could just make out the dull sound of bickering followed by Kate's laugh. After he and Dorrek had parted in the late afternoon yesterday Wiccan had taken the time to seek out Kate and help her with her cleaning project. She'd asked him a few questions about what he and Dorrek had talked about, giving sly playful winks at him every now and then. Eventually Eli must have gotten wind that they were together and he'd interrupted Kate halfway through one of her questions, storming into the room and refusing to leave them be. Billy had been grateful for the interruption at the time because Kate's behavior had begun to strangely remind him of a friend inquiring about a bestie's first date – the idea alone making him blush madly. Thankfully Kate hadn't seen it as she and Eli had begun making witty remarks back and forth. His walk with Dorrek wasn't a date, he had to keep telling himself. It was just a . . . tour. Dorrek was trying to be nice, extend an olive branch as it were. Wiccan appreciated the gesture, grateful for the shift in their acquaintanceship.
Kate's laughter cut through his reminiscing and he smiled sadly to himself wondering how in a place so grim laughter still found a place among all the grey. He thought back to just a few days ago, how he'd been living day to day, always waiting for the next robbery or crime so he could rush off and enjoy some hero work. You would think risking his life that way would have matured him. It had, but not as much as he'd previously thought. Looking back at the person he was, just a few days ago, he seemed so innocent and out of touch with reality. He'd thought he had problems, but now something like getting picked on seemed so small.
Innocent and certain, he thought. He'd been so certain about what he wanted and who he was and he'd been eagerly waiting for the day high school could end so he could just be Wiccan all the time. The hero with magic abilities kids dreamed of having. Someone that finally made him feel like one of the cool kids. Because no matter how he was bullied, he was special. He was special in a way others would be envious of if they knew.
Now, after everything he'd witnessed within the castle walls he felt wiser but all the more unsure. After seeing the struggles Dorrek, Cassie, Kate, Eli and the rest of the people in the castle faced he knew through watching that suffering that he himself had grown, he'd mentally matured. But at the same time everything he thought he knew about the real world had been turned on its head.
In a way it made him feel stronger, for enduring what he had since coming to the castle, but he still wasn't strong enough to free himself. And now a tiny voice whispered in the very back of his thoughts. Did he even want to be free? Yes, of course. That answer was simple. But did he want to leave? That he had no idea how to answer. Looking inward he could feel a change in himself, he just wasn't sure what that change was.
Letting out a sigh that turned into a puff of fog in the cold air, Wiccan turned away from the window and closed the glass pane. Going to the wardrobe he grabbed a red knit sweater and pulled it over his shirt leaving only the white collar exposed.
Next, he grabbed his book and headed to Dorrek's room. He had been back and forth so much that now he knew the stairs and halls by heart. Part of him felt like he'd lived here forever.
There were even some places where he began to notice the changes. Where new piles of debris rested after another piece of the ceiling or a pillar collapsed. Plaster dust from where a new chunk of wall had fallen. Cracks in the marble floor that hadn't been there yesterday. Even sections of the beautiful railings had broken off and lay in pieces where they'd rolled down the steps.
When he'd weaved his way around all the piles of debris, crumbling stone and holes in the flights of steps he let himself right in to Dorrek's room. The much larger man was sleeping peacefully on his back propped up against several plush pillows. It was a good sign that he could rest on his back but Wiccan still crept over, laid his book on the comforter and stretched his hand out.
Slowly, he opened his palm and it started to glow a dim cobalt as he focused all the energy he could wield into healing Dorrek's bad shoulder. Under the white bandage there was a small glow of blue that quickly faded. Satisfied, he ran his hand down over Dorrek's chest hovering a few inches above his green skin – which was exposed because Dorrek apparently had decided to sleep without a shirt. Wiccan's fingers bent and twisted as they coiled with the fluid and flexing magic light that moved in tiny wisps. He continued down until his hand hovered over Dorrek's leg, even covered by the sheets and comforter Wiccan knew there was still a nasty bite in his calf that needed more aid.
Then, much too soon for his liking, his magic ran out. He tried to keep it going but it was like pressing on the top of a can of whipped cream after it had gone empty – only air came out. He tried for another minute but his magic had run dry. It was a feeling made even more infuriating by the pulse of magic Wiccan could feel just under his skin. He hated whatever it was that was suppressing his powers. But he could do little to nothing about it right now.
Resigned to accept his new limitations he grabbed his book and took a seat in the chair next to Dorrek's bed and picked up where he'd left off. Hopefully in another ten minutes he'd be able to use a smidge more magic to help Dorrek heal before he could wake up and catch Wiccan in the act. In the meantime he read about various other planets the Skrull's had fled to and several more battles they had whenever they encountered the Kree. He got through three chapters and was just reading about the childhood of Princess Anelle when he heard a crumbling sound followed by crashing in the distance. He looked up in the direction of the balcony expecting to catch a glimpse of one of the many towers decaying. Instead what caught his eyes was the table with the rose and he saw another petal on the blood red flower fall. The sound also caused Dorrek to stir in his bed. His body adjusted itself as his eyes blinked open and he took in his surroundings.
He groaned which caught Wiccan's attention, making him turn and wonder how much pain Dorrek was in. But his next statement made it clear the groan was not caused from his injuries.
"Why are you reading that?" he sneered with a look of disgust on his face.
Wiccan was thrown off guard and he opened and closed his mouth for a moment looking back down to the book. Then he shrugged, "It's interesting."
Dorrek groaned again as he readjusted himself against the pillows, "They're not interesting, they're boring. I've read each volume at least twice, I had an extensive education."
Wiccan felt his eyes widen before he could stop them, because first and foremost, Dorrek's response confirmed that his book was based on real life, which in itself was an amazing admission. Immediately he had so many questions, because naturally Dorrek's appearance coupled with an education on an alien race brought up so many things to ask. But Wiccan held his tongue. The second thing to pop into his mind was how fortunate Dorrek was to be able to study his own race. Being a mage in the modern world Wiccan didn't have the luxury of being taught magic, he had to make it up as he went. Hence why so many of the things he did he had to say out loud. But he was improving on his silent magic.
"Judging by the dumbfounded look on your face I'm assuming you haven't." Dorrek said attempting to joke around.
Wiccan composed his expression trying to stifle his bewilderment, "Excuse me?"
Dorrek chuckled which told Wiccan he was only messing with him for sport. That smile came back and like last time it proved to be a distraction, enough so that Wiccan had to really focus on what Dorrek was saying next. Which was difficult since his mind just wanted to come up with all the ways he could describe that handsome smile.
"- Maybe your magic would even work better."
Wiccan dropped the book onto his lap as he rolled his eyes before giving a halfhearted glare, "And what do you know about magic?"
Dorrek stared at him for a long minute. Then he threw the sheets off himself and got out of bed. He grabbed a button up dark grey shirt and threw it on but left it open as he tugged his arms through the sleeves carefully. Then he marched out of his room with Wiccan, curious and confused, on his heels.
Dorrek made his way down the hallway but when he got to the top of the stairs he branched off to the left down a thinner hall. It was so concealed by darkness that Wiccan had never even spotted it on his many trips through here. There was another less grand but still gorgeous staircase at the end of the hall that Dorrek led him down. Then he wove through more halls and Wiccan was surprised that he hadn't noticed there was such a big part of the castle he hadn't seen yet. Especially since he started helping Kate.
He fell behind a bit every now and then as he stopped to take in the architecture and décor of each corridor. It looked like there were doors to more guestrooms, some were open revealing small rooms where midday teas were probably served once. Along one hall were large thin windows that showed the back of the castle grounds but Dorrek passed right by them.
Finally they arrived at their destination and Dorrek threw open the doors to a new room. Like his bedroom these doors were tall, almost reaching the ceiling but Dorrek pushed them open with ease.
"Well you could probably benefit from some of these." He muttered as he entered. When Wiccan took his attention off the design of the hallway and turned to the right the first thing he saw inside the room straight across from the open door was a floor to ceiling bookcase. The young mage took a few steps with his mouth hanging open before he stopped right in the doorframe. He never dreamed that he'd see so many books on magic in his life. Unless he was invited to Dr. Strange's place, which was more of a fanboy dream then a realistic expectation.
He'd always assumed anything on the teaching of magic would have either been destroyed in witch hunts or thrown out once the subject moved to 'fictional' in society. But here were easily a few hundred books, each shelf looked to hold at least twenty and there were more then ten shelves thanks to the high ceiling. Wiccan took a few steps in getting closer. Some books were tattered and clearly old while others had been maintained and kept in pristine, almost new, condition.
"These are all on magic?" He asked in awe.
Dorrek, off to the right, looked at the young mage from over his shoulder and wasn't sure why the one wall caused such a fuss.
"Well those are just the beginner ones."
Finally, Wiccan turned and swore he nearly fainted. Behind Dorrek was a room the size of a football field with hundreds more shelves housing thousands of books. Wiccan's heart rate jumped and he could feel the organ beating against his ribs in excitement. He could spend lifetimes in here and still never read every book this library housed. Jonas would be jealous.
"Are you alright?" Dorrek asked quirking a blonde brow. Wiccan could feel the dopey smile stretched across his face but he couldn't bring himself to care.
"Fine." He eventually got out as he looked up, craning his head to look at the books that circled around the room along a catwalk. Then he shook his head and refocused. "Why do you have books on magic if you don't have magic?"
Dorrek shrugged, "My mentor raised me to understand the concept of always maintaining power. And there is power in knowledge. I never read any of them but I was told it was better to have them if the need should ever arise."
Wiccan nodded and looked back around the room, the awe returning to his face and lighting up his eyes.
"And now a situation has arisen." Dorrek muttered to himself as he looked at the way Wiccan's dark hair fell across his forehead as he looked up. At how his Adam's apple pushed against the muscles of his throat as he craned his neck. The light in his chestnut eyes and the small smile on his lips. Something in Dorrek warmed at the reaction the library gave Wiccan and before he could stop himself or think it over the words just spilled from his mouth, "If you like it so much consider it yours."
Wiccan's head turned back down as he looked to Dorrek, eyes widening in shock.
"You- you're giving this to me?" he questioned, barely managing the sentence.
Dorrek shrugged, "You'll get more use out of it then I will at this point. I've read everything worth reading in here."
At that Dorrek turned and wandered about the library, looking around like he was refamiliarizing himself with the space. Billy turned in a complete circle looking at the shelves too but with much more awe, even more then when he'd first walked in.
Mine, he thought, this is all mine. Just like that. He let out a small breath that wasn't quite a gasp but no less from his shock. Growing up Billy's family had always done well for themselves, with his mother being a phycologist and his father a cardiologist. Their family never worried about money and he always got nice gifts on birthdays and Hannukah. But this was still, something else. To have as much as Dorrek did, and to be able to just give it away with a few short words. Wiccan was speechless.
Tearing his gaze away from all the spines of the books he looked at Dorrek. He was able to stare shamelessly since the larger man's back was to him, though that didn't help him in his search to figure the man out. Sure, he and Dorrek had been growing closer the past couple of days since the wolf attack but to give Billy a piece of his home – a home Billy now knew he held very near and dear to his heart. Just the size of that gesture alone was bigger then even Dorrek himself. And that was saying something. But what made him do it? It couldn't have simply been Billy's enthusiasm upon seeing the library. . . could it? Had Dorrek accepted Billy as a part of his inner circle, the few people who roamed the castle and called it home? It did feel like an exclusive place, a lavish palace tucked away in the woods surrounded by magic. A place no one else in the world knew existed.
Of course, Billy wasn't exactly here by choice. He was still a prisoner after all. Maybe that was Dorrek's motivation. Had he decided that since Wiccan was to remain here forever he lost nothing by giving the mage his personal library? But that would still lead one to conclude that Dorrek cared for him, in some capacity. Cared enough to try and make him feel at home. Give Wiccan a place he could call his in the castle. If so, it was working. Looking around again Wiccan felt less like an intruder and more like a guest. That was the term Cassie, Kate and the others all called him too.
He looked back at Dorrek who had stopped in front of a particular bookshelf and was reading the titles printed on the spines with his hands folded behind his back.
"Thank you." Wiccan called softly to him. He turned and gave Billy a small smile.
"It's nothing." He said with another shrug.
A moment passed where Wiccan just stood there and stared at him. Dorrek didn't break their joined gaze even as Billy continued. "That's what makes it everything."
The weight of his words was enough to make Dorrek glance at his feet. Wiccan saw him lick his lip nervously and suddenly felt he might have crossed some new line that had involuntarily formed. "Well I. . ." Dorrek began before clearing his throat, stuffing his hands in his pockets and looking back up at the young mage, "I want you to be happy here."