It was the first time Olive had gotten out at all since the previous day, yet she found herself still just slightly nervous. However, one thing she did find odd was that she wasn't feeling quite the same level of anxiety as she would've expected, although deep down she knew that was mostly due to the presence of the man walking beside her.
Marcus led the way through the winding and near impossible to navigate castle in silence. They made no physical contact, although that was mostly because the situation just didn't feel quite right to be doing so. Olive kept her hands deep in the pockets of her jacket, and Marcus held his in front of him almost regally.
"You gonna tell me where we're going or what?" she quizzed him, after no words were exchanged between them for a minute or so.
He glanced down at her softly and then averted his gaze back up again. "To meet the rest of the coven."
She gulped nervously. She only knew of the others what Marcus had told her, which was only that they were effectively a vampire royal family who ruled over the supernatural world with an iron fist and carried out executions of rogue vampires.
Something like that, anyway. Her attention span was limited.
"The . . . the rest of the coven?" she stammered.
He noticed the way her steps considerably slowed down, in clear reluctance for what they were about to do. "There is no need to feel anxious, cara mia. They may be slightly overbearing at times, but they are truly excited to meet you."
"Eat me, more like," she muttered under her breath.
"No harm will come to you again, not on my watch, I promise," he assured her sincerely. "Besides, if anyone is to feed on you, it will be me," he added light-heartedly, although he quickly realised that it may've been the wrong thing to say. Though she knew it was a joke—or, at least, she certainly hoped so—it definitely did nothing to put her mind at ease about her surroundings.
They eventually stopped at a door that was similar in appearance to the door to her own room. Moving around so that Olive was standing somewhere between him and the wall—more for Olive's safety than anything—Marcus raised his hand and tapped his knuckles against the door in a specific rhythm.
After a few moments of tense silence, "Enter," Aro called.
Marcus reached for the door handle and pushed the door open. He stood to the side to allow Olive through first. Staring at the ground, Olive hesitantly entered through the doorway, her thick hair covering her face like a black veil.
Aro suddenly appeared in front of her. Olive yelped in fear and stumbled backwards. Fortunately, Marcus caught her just in time and helped her to stand up properly again.
"Oh dear, my apologies for frightening you, young Olive. That was never my intent. It is a pleasure to meet you again." Aro extended his hand out towards hers. However, much to his dismay, she carefully folded her own behind her back with her eyes narrowed at him. There was absolutely no way in hell he was getting inside her head again.
Aro seemed momentarily confused. He glanced between the pair of them, and then to Marcus. "You told her, didn't you, brother?"
"I have a name," she reminded him, her hands on her hips.
Aro bit down the laugh that almost escaped him. "Quite right, do forgive me. You told Olive?" He raised an eyebrow at his usually quiet and harmless brother.
"What, about your freaky-deaky mind-reading thing?" Olive answered before Marcus even had the chance to do so himself. "Yeah, if anything I'm kind of annoyed that you didn't tell me yourself. Generally, it's a thing people disclose before delving into someone else's very personal and private memories."
"So I am expected to keep information like that away from Olive, yet you may reveal her identity and purpose here without consulting me first?" Marcus seethed.
"I did no such thing, brother." Aro turned his nose up stubbornly and crossed his arms.
"You asked Olive whether she is able to identify any physical similarities between you. Did you so conveniently forget?" he challenged. "What were you thinking?"
Olive did stand there for a moment as the pair continued to bicker, but soon their argument faded into what sounded like Italian, maybe. Since she no longer understood a single word of what they were saying, she ducked under Marcus' arm, though he was too distracted to notice, and very reluctantly walked across the room towards the other three red-eyed vampires. All three of them looked equally imposing, and Olive wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and hide there. At least she wouldn't be bothered by vampires in said hole.
The dark haired woman, who had been staring unmoving at the unlit fireplace, gasped, and the corners of her full red lips turned up into a full beaming smile. "She does look like her!" she exclaimed, jumping up to her feet. "I am Sulpicia, you must be Olive."
Olive laughed timidly. "Nice to meet you."
Sulpicia was ridiculously stunning, so much so that Olive thought she'd end up drooling if she stared at her for too long. Her thick dark caramel hair had a perfect beach wave to it that flowed down a few inches past her shoulders. She had the looks of someone who would be a bitchy antagonist in a movie, what with her sharp face and long, thick eyelashes, yet somehow she had such a bubbly and warm appearance to her.
"I am Athenodora, but you can call me Athena." The blonde woman sitting on the snowy haired man's lap inclined her head with a soft smile. "It is lovely to have you here."
Olive peered around Sulpicia at her. Athena was just as gorgeous as Sulpicia, but in a slightly different way. Rather than being sex on legs like her sister, she just looked frankly adorable, but in the same ridiculously attractive way. Her honey blonde hair was in a tight mess of curls which were styled so that they were shoulder length, and from looking at her heart-shaped face she appeared to be quite close to Olive's age. Obviously, Olive knew that couldn't possibly be the case, in reality.
The blond man forced a very stiff smile and effortlessly flicked a strand of platinum white hair out of his perfect face. "And my name is Caius."
"It's, um, nice to meet you all," Olive said shyly. She wasn't usually a shy person, not in the slightest, but somehow these people had a way of inciting that queasy feeling of butterflies in her stomach.
Sulpicia gracefully sat down again on the sofa, her light knee-length dress swishing against her flawless legs, and patted the empty cushion beside her. "Come sit, love. You seem uneasy."
"A room full of red-eyed people who eat people like me, I don't know what else you expected," Olive tried to joke. Due to the complete discomfort of the situation, she sat down on the opposite end of the loveseat to Sulpicia. "Are those two always like that?" she asked, pointing at Aro and Marcus still bickering by the door.
Sulpicia glanced at them over her shoulder and sighed. "Not usually, no. I have rarely known Marcus to clash with Aro, but it happens. In their defence, your presence has caused quite the stir around here thus far. I was expecting their inevitable feud to be far worse."
It was at that point that Marcus and Aro's argument died down. Both men joined the family again in the living room area, although they still appeared to be clearly pissed off with each other to some degree.
While Aro took his seat between Olive and Sulpicia, the lack of space meaning that they were closer than Olive was remotely comfortable with, Marcus sat in the armchair beside Olive. Their knees were touching quite closely, but in an odd way Olive preferred that contact. In such an unfamiliar and imposing situation, Marcus remained the only one she held any trust in.
Aro glanced at the mark on her neck and gave her a look of sympathy. "I do apologise about the behaviour of one of our guards last night."
Marcus growled lowly at the mention of it, so low that Olive only just managed to hear. "Yet another way you have ruined my plans, brother."
"And, as you heard as clear as day, brother, I apologised." There was a tinge of snideness to his tone. "Admittedly, it is my fault."
'It is your fault, and you know what, if that didn't upset me, but the bitch ass hoe-'
Olive was pulled out of her very irrelevant and pretty random thoughts by the sound of her name. She blinked a few times to wake herself up and turned her head towards Marcus.
"Did I zone out?" They all nodded in confirmation which only made her cheeks heat up in embarrassment. "My bad, I do that a lot. Get used to it, I guess."
"We were asking you about yourself, but apparently you were too engrossed in your own thoughts to listen to the words of others in your presence," Caius remarked. From the way he spoke, it felt like he was already lashing out at her, but surely that couldn't be possible, especially if they barely knew each other.
"Sorry, your voices just bore me. How you put up with each other, I have no idea," Olive snapped back.
"Some things will never change," he muttered, but not quietly enough for Olive to miss it.
Her mouth opened, her expression appalled. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? What's your problem? I literally just got here, and you're already being a-"
"Vita mia, try not to pick a fight with Olive now, hm? You have plenty of time to do that later," Athena scolded lightly. "What my husband actually asked," She shot a lightning-quick glare at him, "was about your name, if it had any meaning or not."
She thought about it for a moment. "I don't think it does, I think it just sounded nice, but I guess I'll never know really. Either way, people usually just shorten it to 'Liv', but even dare to call me 'Livi' and I will come for you," she warned darkly, not that anyone in the room took that seriously. No mentally stable immortal took human threats to heart.
"Fair enough, Livi," Sulpicia teased.
Olive's head ducked around Aro and she glared at Sulpicia like she'd never glared at anyone before. Sulpicia cowered away slightly, more to avoid agitating the girl than out of fear.
The conversation continued from there, with Olive pretty much answering the same set of questions she'd answered from Marcus the day before. At this rate, it felt like she was on some kind of TV chat show, where she retold the same stories, like about the time she met Abby Lee Miller, and the time she roller skated into a stranger and gave them a nose bleed, and received the same predictable reactions each time.
"Well," Sulpicia laughed after being told about Olive's fear of clowns, "it is quite the coincidence that you ended up here in Volterra, sister-"
The moment that word left Sulpicia's lips, the room was plunged into a deathly silence. All that could be heard was the sound of Olive's breathing and, to immortals, her heartbeat. Marcus wordlessly glared daggers at his sister, and the latter's eyes were as wide as saucers. Sulpicia hadn't even intended to overstep in any way or get ahead of herself. Maybe she was so used to speaking to Didyme that it just became reflexive to her to consider her a sister.
"Sister?" Olive questioned, looking between everyone in the room but not receiving any answers. "What do you mean? I don't get it, how am I your—oh wait, you mean . . ." She motioned across the space between her and Marcus.
No one confirmed it, but no one made any attempt to deny it either. The piercing silence continued, the kind of silence that made her want to do anything, literally anything, just to break it and free herself from the pure awkwardness.
Fortunately, she didn't have to do anything drastic like purposefully stub her toe or cut her finger, since Marcus stood up from his armchair and effortlessly pulled Olive to her feet. She noticed that his hands were smooth, like marble, but absolutely freezing to the touch.
"Now seems a good a time as any to take Olive to lunch," he said in a very weak effort to lift the suspense that hung over them, leading her out of the door.
Olive stopped in the doorway and raised her hand lazily in what could only just pass as a wave. "Uh, nice to meet you I guess. Except Caius. You're a pain to deal with."
Marcus finally closed the door, and both of them simultaneously sighed of relief. Now Olive was out of one increasingly awkward situation, but somehow she felt like this could possibly be worse.
"So . . . lunch?" Olive suggested.
He smiled down at her fondly. "Are you hungry?"
Her stomach made a perfectly-timed ungodly growl, which answered her question without her needing to. "I mean," She placed a hand over her stomach, "I haven't eaten a thing since breakfast, and that was hours ago."
"Well, all that you chose to eat was a bowl of those additives and flavourings-"
"Fruit Loops," she corrected him. "Ooh, I would die for another bowl of Fruit Loops," she moaned.
Of course, he knew she was joking, but all jokes aside, to say that the thought of her death was uncomfortable would be the greatest understatement of all time. Olive looked up at him thoughtfully, noticing his subtle yet sudden change in expression.
Before she could stop herself, she reached for his hand and held it in hers. Once she'd realised what she'd done, she was almost about to pull away and apologise when he interlocked their fingers together before she had the chance to.
He shook his head, and his face had already softened again, becoming far less tense and uneasy than it had been just seconds prior. "I will not sit and watch you fill your stomach with so much unhealthy food like that."
"Don't watch then," she suggested with a shrug. "Come on, I want my bowl of Fruit Loops."
Olive walked a few steps ahead of Marcus with her hand still held in his. He allowed her to believe that she was physically pulling him along, only because she was simply so amusing to deal with.
"No Fruit Loops," he said sternly.
Rather than agree to such a simple request, she turned around, yanked her hand away from his, and stomped her foot on the ground in an act of defiance. Her arms crossed over her chest stubbornly. "That's not fair. I love Fruit Loops."
Marcus tried so hard not to laugh at the adorable if childish tantrum Olive was having over a bowl of cereal. "I am being perfectly fair, bellissima. We do not all get exactly what we want in life."
Aro had already made him aware that currently Olive's understanding of Italian was very little. That was the reason she and her sister had ensured that they only stayed in popular tourist destinations in the country where people were more likely to speak English. He was sure that, had she had at least a vague understanding of the language, she definitely would've questioned the fact that he had just used a pet name that translated to 'beautiful'.
"But come on, just one more bowl? One teensy little bowl? Please Marcus?" she begged. Her big, ocean blue eyes glistened in the spots of daylight that flickered into the castle. Now Marcus remembered why it had always been so difficult to say no to Didyme all the time.
He shook his head with what faintly resembled a laugh and steered her by her shoulders towards the kitchen. "You may have another bowl tomorrow morning for breakfast. Eat something healthier instead."
Marcus pushed open the metal doors that led to the kitchens as if they were made of paper. Olive skipped in ahead of him but stopped in front of the main counter used by the Italian chef they'd hired many years ago now. She seemed to be very popular among their human staff and occasional human guests, so there was no reason for her employment to be . . . prematurely ended.
"Ah, little Olive, here for lunch?" She smiled at her but then mimicked her frown teasingly. "Why the face?"
"He," Olive pointed harshly at Marcus, who was standing directly behind her, or maybe towering over her due to their height difference, "won't let me have another bowl of Fruit Loops for lunch."
The chef went quiet for a moment. However, she refused to respond, instead continuing to bustle around the kitchen with various ingredients, pots, and pans, while speaking in a thick Italian accent, one that could only be really understood by listening very carefully. "So, I can make you a tomato and mozzarella Panini, or the spaghetti carbonara, or-"
"Are you siding with him?" Olive asked him in disbelief, causing Marcus to chuckle.
"Lucia here happens to be a sensible adult, aware of the serious negative effects to your health eating solely Fruit Loops will have." He smiled smugly at her.
She groaned in defeat and narrowed her eyes at the other two. "Ugh, you're no fun." She turned around to sit down but darted back over when she realised she'd forgotten to actually request anything to eat. "Oh, and, um, spaghetti carbonara, please."
Marcus led her by her wrist over to the little wooden table that was usually only ever used by their human staff. "Type 2 diabetes is 'no fun'," he continued. "Obesity is 'no fun'. The list of potential health implications due to your poor diet choices goes on, carina."
Olive banged her head against the surface of the table, but didn't even bother to lift her head back up again. "You sound like my mother."
"I am certain that your mother was very wise, in that case," he retorted.
He untucked a chair for himself around the corner beside her, and again their knees touched underneath the table. He lifted her back up by one shoulder, and Olive very reluctantly sat herself upright again.
"I apologise," he began, which instantly caught her attention, "about what happened earlier. Sulpicia . . . she means well, I assure you, but she is just . . ."
"A nutjob?" Olive finished. "I gathered that much. She's nice though, really pretty. Way prettier than the girls I've been with, anyway. You officially have competition."
Marcus stared at her blankly. Olive was confused too for a moment. Her sexuality had never exactly been a secret. Pretty much everyone knew at that point, or could probably guess just by looking at her and the way she dressed. Then she remembered that she hadn't even ever gotten around to telling him.
"You know," Olive awkwardly fumbled with her hands, "because I'm bi?" Marcus raised a puzzled eyebrow at her. He must be unfamiliar with the lingo. "Bisexual?"
Marcus' eyes widened. Olive panicked at first, and understandably so. If that whole coven were ancient dinosaurs, who was to say that their views on topics such as homosexuality were at all accepting? For all she knew, they could be the worst type of homophobes possible that drank the blood of . . .
"I, er, didn't tell you because I kinda thought you'd be all weird about it . . . please don't be weird about it . . ." Olive trailed off. She kept her eyes cast downwards, her gaze following the knots in the wood.
He placed a hand over hers which were folded over the table. She only spared a glance at him for a moment but quickly looked away again. "And why would you think that, my dear?" he asked.
Relief crossed over her features at the softness of his voice. She took a heavy breath and could already feel herself beginning to calm back down again. Her heart no longer felt like it was about to burst out of the constraints of her chest. "Well, I guess, it's just that . . . you're just old, and-"
He pretended to be offended. "Old?"
Olive looked up at him and laughed. "Oh, don't give me that look, you know what I mean. I wasn't sure what your opinions on homosexuality would be, and I didn't want you to, you know," she awkwardly tapped her fingernails against the table, "hate me and thus kill me for it or anything like that . . ."
"Olive, I have said this once and I will say it as many times as it takes for you to listen." Marcus tilted her chin up towards him and looked her directly in the eyes. "I will never let any harm come to you—never, for as long as I live—nor will I ever hate you for anything you do, nor will I turn on you and hurt you."
She smiled lightly at the sincerity in his words. "For a moment, I thought you were going to start reciting the lyrics to Never Gonna Give You Up." Marcus hummed a laugh and shook his head. "But anyway, you still won't let me eat fruit loops."
Lucia hurried over to the table and placed a steaming bowl of spaghetti down in front of her. Olive began to thank her, but the chef only nodded her head briskly before moving back across the room, since she didn't want to interfere with what was clearly a private conversation, especially that of one of the Masters.
Marcus shook his head at Olive. "I do let you eat Fruit Loops, but only in reasonable quantities. I cannot have you becoming ill or unhealthy, my dear."
Olive rolled her eyes and twirled a few pieces of spaghetti around her fork. However, it was as soon as that spaghetti hit her mouth that she realised that she hadn't really given the food a moment to cool down. She began panting frantically as the spaghetti painfully burnt the inside of her mouth.
"What is it, my dear?" Marcus asked with concern.
She coughed, but ensured her mouth was covered for obvious reasons. She couldn't even begin to imagine how humiliating it would be if she hadn't. "It's too hot, water, I need water," she mumbled.
In what was quite literally less than a second, Marcus reappeared in front of her with a small glass of water. Olive took it gratefully and downed the contents in one solid gulp. She sighed of relief as the burning sensation began to subsidise.
"It was too hot?" Marcus repeated with an eyebrow raised.
Olive nodded and briefly stuck her tongue out. "It burnt my tongue. I was too excited to eat my carbonara."
"You humans are such fragile little things," he mused.
Since her little argument with Caius earlier, Olive really wasn't in the mood to deal with any more stuck-up vampires making comments about her or her species. "Excuse me?"
"I meant no offence by it," Marcus added quickly. "It is only that we immortals are-"
Olive stopped him before he could finish his sentence. "Undamageable, eternal, invincible, etcetera etcetera. Yeah, yeah, I've heard it all already."
He gave her an almost scolding glare. "I would prefer it if you did not interrupt me, dear one," he warned her. She felt her heart skip a beat at his tone and then cringed at herself. Marcus had noticed her reaction too, but pretended not to for her sake. "But yes, to sum it up, exactly what you said."
"So you don't have this issue? Don't you get, like, I don't know, a human who's blood is so hot that it burns your tongue?" she asked.
He hummed a laugh. "Don't be silly, of course not."
"Geez, just asking." She held her hands up in mock surrender and got straight back to her lunch eagerly. Her smile, however, never left her face.
Marcus watched her eat intently. His absent yet aware focus remained on her fork as she brought it to her mouth and placed it back in the bowl again repetitively. Simply out of curiosity, he decided to slip into his bond sight for a moment, just to take a look, and was happy, to say the least, with what he saw.
"The mating bond," he muttered to himself.
She glanced up at him incredulously. "The—what now?"
He went quiet for a moment. "Did I say something?" he asked.
If he was lucky, maybe she hadn't heard a word of what he'd just said. He hadn't put much thought as to when he would tell her that they were becoming mates, but he knew for a fact that it wasn't news he wanted to break over a bowl of spaghetti.
She sighed and got back to her food. "No, I'm probably just hearing things," she replied.
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
Author's note: This chapter is so long, ugh, I'm so proud of myself! (For context, over 4k words is a shit ton for me, so I'm gonna take that as a victory). The next chapter is like half this length though, whoops, and that's on inconsistency ;)
Anyway, thank you so much for reading, stay safe, and ily lots!