A/N: Moving towards the end of this story , let's hope. Should complete this story soon, three to four more, perhaps.
"Where are we,.." began Musa, as she realized her hands were being guided by Riven's. Such large ones, with that amazing rough texture.
"Wedding venue," he said, shortly. Her eyes brightened at the thought of his levi-bike. She loved riding on it with him. But then she remembered how she had travelled between Tides and Alfea last night. It was such a common thing, that it hardly needed mentioning. Stella's portals. They stepped through one now, with the ease of someone entering an elevator.
Pity, she almost wished Riven had ignored them and taken it, anyway. His bike would be so him. And then she could wrap her arms around his waist, like she had done last night...
Her more-or-less boyfriend was thinking the same thing. Musa noticed his face turn green as they emerged into a completely silent Tides. She had heard it bustling with energy just the previous day. She was entertaining the thought that they were at the wrong place, when she caught sight of Layla's palace.
A sharp breadth caught her attention. She looked at the man beside her. "Are you okay?" she asked, nervously. Riven just looked even greener and was squeezing her hand, which he had been holding ever since they had left her room.
She was pondering, she realized with guilt, not how Layla was feeling, but about where riven and her stood. The first hint that he had partially forgiven her for spilling his secret to her friends was his gesture of hand-holding. How many times had they held hands before? This was definitely the first time he had initiated the act.
However, did she want to forgive him for all he had said to her? And now that Layla was… She must not think of her and Riven. She tried to focus on Riven's sincere look at Nabu that night. That's right. Nabu was his best friend, as well. The last thing he had said to his best friend before he died was said to try to convince him that Layla and him were not in a relationship. If it was lies, it was probably eating him up right now.
As they arrived outside Layla's castle, Riven instinctively pulled his hand away from Musa's as he encountered a barrage of stern looking guards at the castles entrence. He spoke in a low whisper to them, and flourished a badge that proclaimed him to be from Red Fountain. The guard then mumbled something to his colleague, and he went to make enquiries inside.
"Just wait a while," Riven told her, as he gave her hand a light squeeze. His face was full of pain,, though someone who didn't know him may mistake the look for indifference. Musa squeezed his hand back as the guard returned and ushered them into the opening Castle doors.
Riven's first impulse was to run. Whether to run away or towards Layla, he was not sure, but he simply quickened his pace, forcing the guard they were supposed to be following to do so, also. Musa tried to keep up, but she kept falling behind. She had visited Layla before once, and was casually trying to remember where they were headed.
Finally, after a long climb up the stairs, Riven arrived at an expansive landing, which opened up into a hall that was flanked on both ides by another pair of guards. If they knew I was their kind-of king, wondered Riven, absently.
He glanced back guiltily to find Musa a great deal behind him, panting and out of breadth. She had worn a pair of bright orange flip-flops, that made annoying flip-flopping noises, a totally new sound in the pristine castle of Tides. He was dressed in exactly what he had worn at the wedding, albeit a bit crumpled because he had attempted to sleep in it. But she had not bothered to change into anything after she had worn her black slacks and orange jumper to hide her tiny white tee. She had been too shocked to care. But faced with the castle and its imposing walls that screamed opulence and expensive taste, she seemed to grow more self-conscious and awkward. And she their potential kind-of queen… he continued musing, as his eyes narrowed at a guard who had looked Musa up and down doubtfully, taking in her disheveled appearance. Riven smartly produced his badge and they were finally in the room with what Bloom optimistically called 'the gang'. Though Alberta was there too, as well as Layla's parents. My parents, Riven corrected himself, and waited for a surge of blood-is-thicker-than-water feelings, but none came. He glanced at his step-mother, she looked inconsequential—a mere mist of a person compared to the broad, imposing man sitting with her. Layla's head was on her father's shoulder, and she wasn't moving much. Perhaps asleep, thought Riven, surprised as the afore absent feeling began to surge up in his veins. His sister.
He stiffened as he realized the awkwardness of the situation. Only the other day, Musa had accused him and Layla of having an affair. And now, all those people in the crowd, excluding Jared, were present here, now. And all their eyes were trained on him and Musa, as they entered. What should he do? He wondered. Go up to her? Stay rooted?
Timmy and Techna, with their knack for expert timing sidled towards the two. "About time you guys came," mumbled Techna, "We were here first thing in the morning."
"What's happened till now," asked Riven, curiously.
"Well, we had decided to give the after party a miss, but got messages on the phone today, so we arrived here. Layla was taken care of by her mother—heard she was caked with blood when she arrived—"
"I know that," shot back riven impatiently, "But why are we here?"
"Oh," retorted Techna, in a cold voice, "It's because we care." To ram our curiosity down other people's throats in other words, he thought bitterly.
"Has the intergalactic law Enforcement been informed?," Musa wanted to know.
"Yes," Timmy said, nodding, "They were interviewing Flora about it when we came here. They just finished speaking to Layla a few minutes ago." He looked in Riven's direction, "they'll probably want a statement from you two."
Riven nodded, unsure he wanted to be in such close proximity with what they optimistically called the 'law'. Much less with the people who did its dirty work. He tried to remind himself that Jared was the one who would have to face them, not him. And that Jared deserved it, for killing Nabu."
"Layla's asleep," Timmy informed him, as he caught who Riven was looking at. . Another surge, this time of anger, swept over Riven. Why were they we all here, anyway? "You'd think she'd be entitled to some privacy…after this." He widened his hands to gesture what he couldn't say. Because there was another person who wasn't there when Musa had accused him. Nabu.
Alberta strolled over towards Riven then. "So you brought the girlfriend," she said, in a bored voice. Riven grunted non-committedly. His eyes flitted to find the musical fairy, and realized with a start that she wasn't within his line of vision. Ignoring the look of surprise that temporarily flitted across his face, Alberta went on,"Oh, I've been meaning to tell you…something I forgot to mention it last night…" How could he get rid of this pest of a girl? Sure, it had been fun, learning about Sky's past, but it was hardly the time.
"—it's about the girlfriend," continued Alberta, undaunted by his silence. It was probably what she liked most about him—a strong, silent type. "You said she was your girlfriend when I asked you about it. But didn't she declare that she was single after she sung that song that ended with—"
"Alberta," Riven said, from the side of his mouth, gritting his teeth in frustration at her quick pace of speech and non-stop monologue, "Can you please…stop…talking."
"Well," Alberta said, not ruffled in the least, "its been brewing inside my head and I had to unburden myself, least you had the audacity to think you had gotten one over me, or something," she replied, evenly. "well, cheerio, I'm going to sit with Sky now…ugh…he is with his hip-partner again…barf, barf, I'll just leave then, this depressing atmosphere is, like gloomy," she waved a hand at him and walked out the door.
"Be careful you don't run into Jared," Riven mumbled, though she was far gone. He turned to look for Musa, again, but she wasn't where she had been before. She was, noted Riven, as his eyes surveyed the room, with Layla, who was now sobbing on her shoulder. Another pang of unanimity ran through his body. The two women in my life, He thought, grudgingly. Layla looked up and caught him looking at them then, and gave him a small, sad smile. She almost reached for him, but lowered her hand just in time.
Soon, Musa had untangled herself from her friend and joined Riven on the couch. Layla's parents were still sitting with her, and Timmy and Techna sat opposite from them. Couples, couples, and more couples, thought Riven, bitterly. Sure, shove that in her face after she's just lost her partner. He wanted, more than anything, to talk to Layla. Ask her the details. Comfort her, even, maybe. .
The worst thing was no one made the move to leave, trying to put off looking like they didn't care. They had each come up with their partners to comfort Layla. And they were scattered around the room, speaking in whispers, or not at all. Riven admired Alberta then, who hadn't even said anything to anyone, and just left. Then again, she wasn't exactly part of 'the gang.
His eyes moved sideways to look at Musa. He hadn't had much time to mull over the events of last night, but that was mostly because he was purposefully trying to walk around the issue. He noticed she was looking very uneasy, running her fingers through her hair nervously, and pulled her jumper tighter around her. Then it hit him. She was extremely uncomfortable. Ever since they had gotten there, she had been on edge. And he knew why, or partially why, at least. She wasn't dressed right. Like them. All of them wore robes of silk, flowing gowns, skirts of satin. Unobtrusive pastel colours. Right in front of then was Musa, with her uncombed hair and bright orange apparel. A complete out-of-bed look.
He didn't like the fact that she felt that way. He was used to being the odd one out, awkward, surly. Not Musa. She was the star, with the stage presence and the millions of adoring fans who worshipped the ground she walked on. Yet, she was completely out of sorts. That's when he decided he didn't want royalty. It ruined people. All the Winx Club members had to be princesses. He ticked them off on his fingers—Layla, the princess of Tides, Stella, the princess of Solaria, Bloom, the princess of some dead place, which gave her blue-blood bragging rights, anyway, Musa, the princess of Melody and Flora, who had some green place she was supposed to rule on with nature as her lover or something. In fact, Techna was the only one out who was not royalty, and she was intelligent, clever and logical. Did that say something about royalty, or what? He thought with a shudder of joining the ranks of Sky. Royalty was just an excuse to show off, pretend you were better than everyone else. Of course, Riven had enough insight to recognize his own stubbornness, arrogance and the way he held everything with disdain. But that was him, before the curtain had been lifted. And that way, he would stay. Known for whom he was, not whose loins he had been born from. And besides, it was not just loins, but ovum he had been born from, and they were his mothers, who had a wild nature, was a complete doormat, and had agreed to walk out on Riven before he could spell 'abandoned'.
He took a leaf out of Alberta's book and stood up, holding his hand out to Musa. She took it as if in a daze, and they walked towards Layla. As Musa shook their parents' hands, Riven moved over to Layla and gave her a quick hug. He nodded at Jarell and Helen, and taking Musa's hand, walked out.
He could feel the guard's eyes boring into their backs as they descended the stairs. He looked at Musa again. Pale. Sad. Something else? What was it? Deflated. And not just because of the tragedy, though he was sure it was a contributing factor. It was because she had spent the whole hour and more feeling self-conscious. Doubting herself. Being judged by glances and meaningful looks. By their supposed friends, 'the gang'.
"I am sure glad that's over," said Musa, masking her obvious relief in a layer of indifference. "Thank you." That stopped him short. The gratitude. Because if there was something Musa didn't do, it was say, explicitly, anything that entailed 'I owe you'. She would express her gratitude in different ways, but voicing it was not her style.
"No problem," he shot back, sarcastically. Catching on, she shot a quick, sidelong glance at his direction. "What's wrong?" she asked, before she could stop herself. Secrets, he thought, bitterly. That's what is keeping us apart. She probably's wondering what is going on between Layla and I, and I should tell her. But he couldn't. He simply couldn't. He trusted her, or really wanted to, but she had blabbed his secret before to her foolish friends, and that had escalated to their fighting and subsequent but vague break up. He didn't even know clearly where they stood now. Yes, he cared about her, a lot, he had to admit that. He wanted to trust her. But could he, really?
"Riven?" asked Musa, tentatively. He had gone into one of his trances. "We need to talk," he said, minutes after they had begun to take the stairs.
"Shall we go back to my room?," she asked, timidly. Great. Not only was she feeling deflated, nervous and self-conscious, she was also afraid. He guessed his grim expression had made her more worried. He always wore it, but it was consciously. This time, it was unconsciously, and it took someone who knew him, really, really well to figure that out.
Musa inwardly flinched as she realized she sounded worried. And scared. The events since the previous day had left her emotionally numbed. And she was fighting the urge to ask Riven what the Layla affair had been about. His unwillingness to talk to her left her with a pang of sadness. Perhaps he didn't trust her. After the last time. But she also knew that they couldn't go further in the relationship least he tell her everything.
"We'll just take one of these big rooms somewhere in this castle, " he ventured, authoritatively. Musa was surprised. Wouldn't they just be better off, going back to Alfea? They could talk peacefully in their rooms. And she could change. She had desperately wanted to change ever since she had stepped inside the castle. Everyone, even Riven was wearing what they had worn at the wedding. Well, excluding Layla, who had pulled on another beautiful gown. And Techna and Timmy, who were well dressed in a plain kind of way. Only she, who, fresh from the crying and a temporary suspension of her senses that could only result from a night spent in the arms of a certain specialist, had not cared what she had worn. To a palace. a place where everyone had witnessed her terrible performance and probably thought her crazy. And the bright colour of her jumper, her shabby white tank top and rumpled slacks did nothing to improve this reputation. And the flip-flops only added to the effect, announcing her lunacy and inappropriateness with each step, as Riven ushered her into a room and shut the door. His eyes flared with a look of desire, but he turned his back to her with some effort.
"Why do you want to remain here?," she said, finally, "Let's go back, Riven." "Didn't you hear what Timmy told us earlier?," he questioned back. "Law officers or whatever. They are going to ask me questions. That's why we are all here. "
Musa's eyes widened. "Do you really think so?," she asked, worried now. Certainly, she saw the truth in what he was saying. But I thought Jared-"
"Yes," agreed Riven, bitterly. "But there's still the matter of the questions. He could have an accomplice," he added, thoughtfully.
"And they think it could be me?" enquired Musa, panicked. Riven's mouth opened in surprise. He had never, for one moment, thought of that. He had read the surprise endings in all the murder-mystery books he had come across his life ; and they had left him convinced that he should have considered the most unlikely suspect as the most likely suspect. He could see it now. Some weird, eccentric man sitting down with them and asking them probing questions.
"Do you think Alberta could have been in on it?" asked Musa. "She did leave unexpectedly and without a word just now…" Riven's mind was whirling. He had to suspect everybody, everybody. He would have to tell the detective about his past. The crimes he had committed. The photos would have to be explained. Rubella. He'd have to confess he was Layla's brother, right in front of his father. And they would then go after Musa. Musa messing up the wedding. Musa's connection with Jared. Was Musa secretly in love with Nabu? Who had called Jared here? And Layla—they were bound to suspect her, too. After all, she had been the one who had been alone with Nabu, when it happened. He had to sit down…
"Riven, are you okay," there was a frantic note in her voice. He nodded, mutely. He could be accused of the crime just as well as anybody. He knew, however, that he was innocent. And that Musa was, too. And Layla, of course.
"I've got to hear more about what happened," he said after a spell of silence. No wonder they were all there. They were summoned, like in a detective story. They would be questioned, closely. All their secrets would come out . They were not there because they cared, as Techna had ironically put it, but because they were curious.
Musa's eyes met Riven's unblinkingly, asking an unspoken question.
"Of course, I don't suspect you for a second, you stupid pixie," he spat out, "Don't be one of those melodramatic—"
But the opportunity—of finding Musa alone and the possibility of not being alone with her ever again, or at least for a long time conspired to break the unaffecrted façade he was trying to put up. He could do it when strangers were watching. When those damn gang members were staring. Vut Musa could see through all that, so what was the use of pretending?
His mouth was on hers then, not gentle not rough. She was not expecting this, and fell ungracefully in a heap at the foot of the door.
"They'll ask me things," Riven said, continuing to kiss the rest of her face. "They'll make me reveal all my secrets, and you'll be shocked. You'll probably despise—"
"No," croaked Musa, "I wont, I never will be—"
"Let's see what they make me say, and then we'll talk—", he chuckled.
"Is Layla a part of it?" She couldn't help it. The words slipped out. Part of her was glad to have it out there. He stiffened for a second, and then pulled her into his arms, and spoke urgently to her. "Trust me, the most unscandalous secret is Layla."
Musa didn't know which way this was going, and how she should look. Finally, she took pleading as the best way out. "Tell me what it is, Riven. Havent I got a right to know? Don't you think you owe me?"
Riven regarded her with some confusion, and then nodded, making up his mind. "No one else knows this but me and you. If I tell you, I guess that gives Layla the right to blab to anyone." His intonation at the word 'blab' was telling. Musa blushed. "I wont tell, even if it kills me," she said. Riven kissed her again, softly, "Of course you wont, just don't tell anyone until you need to."
There was another silence. "Will you just tell me!" Her voice rose unhappily. He laughed and kissing her, told her. "Layla is my sister." She obviously hadn't expected it, and she opened her mouth to ask the million and one obvious questions.
"No," said Riven, playfully, "Answering questions is what I will be doing shortly with those men," he indicated the floor above. "What I want to do with my girlfriend is something else. "
It was five minutes before the two came up for air again. Musa's orange pullover was in a worse state than it had ever been, and her tank top was holding on by one strap.
"Look what you have done to my dress," Musa scolded him mockingly, as she studied his swallon lips with an urge to sample them once more.
"It's not a dress," Riven teased, sneaking another kiss on her cheek. "I know," she said sadly, "I felt so out of place today, and now that I know its yourCastle—" she trailed off, as Riven's hand roughly covered hers. "Never," he said, his voice menacing, "It is not my castle. Don't you ever forget that."
Musa nodded, fear suddenly shooting through her being. His hand had clamped over her wrists almost painfully, and there was a metallic glint of anger in his eyes. "Riven," she breathed out, "You are hurting me."
The anger was replaced by despair almost immediately, and he was off her in a flash. He bent down to help her up, and as she uncertainly got to her feet, he scooped her into his arms and delivered a light kiss on her lips, before letting her go. "Sorry, lost my head there for a moment," he said apologetically. Musa couldn't respond. She merely took his hand as they went back upstairs, no longer worried about how she was dressed.
A/N: I almost didn't write the last five hundred words. But I convinced myself to after the final read. Tell me what you think.