Mirror Bound Pt. 02

After the kiss he said, in a very serious voice: 'Melissa, I've had a lot of time to think about things. Getting shot reminded me of the dangers we face. If something should happen to me I want you to know that I keep the portal in the cabinet over there.'

This, pointing at the cabinet I already suspected was the hiding place of that powerful thing. But he was not done yet: 'Until you are at your full powers, George should have that, he is strong enough to guard it. I also want you to have this house, instead of running the risk of being turned out by my parents.'

I didn't even want to think of him leaving me behind, I still heard the shot and saw him fall in my mind. His comments distressed me, and he noticed: 'Melissa, I can see this upsets you, but please bear with me, I have a reason to want to discuss this with you. You love me for who I am as a person, and you love my work, and I want you to have my legacy if anything should happen to me. Which I hope will not, for I want to live with you for years and years to come, I love you more than anything in this world and I want to build a life with you, make us both happy.

So though maybe this isn't the time and most certainly not the place, I still want to ask you something:'

He was very intense now, the air in that little room was laden with feelings. I found that having him look at me like that still caused my heart to skip a beat, and I had some trouble remembering to breathe.

As I watched him, rooted to the ground by his intensity, he slowly sank to his knees and looked up at me, eyes burning, and I heard his voice, thick with feeling: 'Melissa, will you let me be yours forever, will you marry me?'

I know I said I didn't cry easily, but I can tell you, his intensity combined with the humble posture, and the still fresh image of him dropping, not knowing whether he was dead or alive, or hurt beyond hope, well I'm not ashamed to tell you that made me cry now.

I helped him up, for I didn't like to see him humble himself for me, and though I knew it was his way to show me that he wanted us to be equals, I could also see that in his condition it was painful. Of course he needed an answer too, and instead of just saying 'I will', which I did, wholeheartedly, I contacted his mind and let him feel the depth of my love for him, but also a big question: what about Lukas?

For though I would marry Paul, how could I not marry the man I loved so much it hurt and who loved me at least as much, it would nonetheless break my heart to shut Lukas out of it.

Wrapped up in Paul's arms now, and bearing a significant part of his weight as a sign he needed to be back in bed as soon as possible, I felt his happiness and reassurance flood my mind and my intended whispered in my ear: 'Dearest, how could I ever do that to someone I professed to love? But even if I didn't love you way too dearly to break your heart, I have come to love Lukas too. I don't want to marry you to claim you for my own, I want to marry you to provide for both of you in case something happens to me.'

I wanted to hold him forever, but I could clearly feel that he was at the end of his strength, and I didn't want him to have a setback. So I kissed him once more, then helped him up the stairs to the sofa, where I cleaned the wound, and from there to bed.

Chapter 38

When he was comfortable again, I continued where I left off to take him to bed, caressing his hair, his face, kissing him and holding him.

He asked: 'Do you want a real wedding, a big thing? With both our families, a gorgeous dress, a walk down the isle, dancing and a banquet? It can be arranged, my parents would love it, they would of course have preferred a girl of a noble family, but they have a healthy respect for a true talent like yours.'

I contemplated it seriously, but I couldn't imagine putting the highest class of the country in one room with my working class parents. Would anyone benefit by the association, even if it was just for a few hours?

After a moment I replied: 'I don't think it would be wise, Paul. You'd better invest your savings in our new company than in one day of luxury. I'd rather just go to the town hall for a licence and to a parish priest and get married there, with a few friends. I think I'd feel like a broodmare if your parents only approve of me to bring some new blood and more magic into the Kenwick-line.

Would they be insulted if we keep it really small?' Paul laughed and said: 'I have not seen my parents in at least five years, I would have to re-establish contact to pull off a big wedding, but I'd do it for you.'

'Then I'd rather keep it very small, I understand why you want to marry me, and I love you even more for it, but nothing will change except my name.'

We cuddled some more, and when I noticed Paul nearly dropping off I watched him fall asleep, always eager to catch the precise moment that he changed from someone nearly ten years my senior to a young man my age.

I saw it happen this time, the years just melted away as his face lost its worry lines and its seriousness, and the boyish features and the unruly curls remained. A month ago I had a hopeless crush on this beautiful man, and now we had been through so many things together and we were engaged to marry.

Only a month. Still I had no problem believing it, having shared our most intimate feelings we knew more about one another than countless couples who had been married for many years. I didn't wait up for Lukas, but snuggled up to Paul and let sleep take me.

The next morning I awoke early, there was a lot to do. Paul's sleeping shape next to me was warm, but not feverish, and part of me wanted to stay close to him and enjoy his feel and scent.

But first I checked if Lukas was there, and he was, in bed but awake, watching us sleep. I looked at him and he smiled at me, his most endearing smile, impossible to resist.

Remembering the past, I held out my arms and whispered: 'Come to me,' and in a second he was in my arms, his musky scent as strong and as pleasant as ever.

We managed to stick to cuddling for about two minutes, and then we both got overheated, and with one look at Paul, still sleeping, we quietly left the large bed and tiptoed out of the bedroom, on our way to my bed for some rough lovemaking.

We were up the stairs in a second, and we hit the bed simultaneously, kissing passionately and touching each others soft flesh greedily. I straddled Lukas and felt him slide into me with a thrill, softly scratching his horns whilst riding his ever increasing thrusts. Neither of us lasted very long, we were both so excited we came nearly together, and Lukas must have had a playful night, for he didn't offer a second round, instead lying against me quietly, letting me stroke him softly. He suggested: 'Let's do this in bed with Paul, a bit of cuddling can't hurt him, can it?'

As we went down the stairs again, I decided to tell him straight away: 'Lukas, Paul asked me to marry him last night, and I told him I will.'

Apparently Lukas could grin even wider, for he did so now, I thought his lip might split for real. He took my face in both his hands and planted a kiss straight on my lips. 'My dear Melissa that is wonderful!' he said, 'I'm so happy for both of you! You were meant for each other When will you do it, and how do you celebrate a wedding here?'

I replied: 'Usually there is a ceremony in church, and a big party for the whole family with dancing and a lot of food, but we're planning to keep it small, our families are so different, and besides, nothing will change by marrying: Paul just wanted to do it because he realized something might happen to him and then you and me would be destitute, losing this house and what we've built up with our future company to his family.'

By now we were back in the bedroom, and we continued our cuddling on the big bed, talking softly not to disturb Paul. 'I'm glad to hear that, I'd survive without your love now, but life's so much better with the both of you,' he said seriously, then gave me that huge grin again, 'how is he now?'

I replied: 'Almost better, your healing worked incredibly well, but he still needs some painkillers, he insisted on cooking last night and showed me how to stoke the main boiler in the cellar, but after that he was knackered and had to go to bed.

He proposed to me in the cellar, on his knees, between the boiler, a pile of coal and shelves with rations. But how was your night?'

Lukas grinned again, and said: 'I talked over the whole thing with George, then we fooled around some until I was crackling with energy again. Afterwards he wanted me to check out one of the worst kids, so we went to meet them. All of the kids had been cleaned up, and boy did that make a difference.

That Jonathan kid is positively stunning with his hair washed and cut and wearing clothes instead of rags, and with hope in his eyes. The rest were clean as well but they still lack life. I connected with George and picked out one of the two worst ones, a girl.'

Now his happy expression faded a little, and he went on: 'It was sad, Melissa, very sad. That poor girl had no recent memories at all, not even of the last thing she ate, or that water battle on the Nomes' lawn. Nothing.

She did have a barrier and I wore it down until it gave in, which was easy compared to Jonathan's. And her memories were fine, she had lived in a small village with her parents and siblings, on a tiny farm, and her parents hoped to give her a better future by sending her to a boarding school.

Now I know her name was Felicity, but she didn't register it. George of course saw her memories too, so he'll contact her parents, and he'd ask around among all his contacts for someone who might still help her. They'll call her by name now in the hopes it'll stir her memory.'

'This was a sad business, but not really hard on me, so I asked George if we could help another child. He looked at me very critically and decided we could. So we did the oldest girl, the one who handed out the food and water.

She had cleaned up nicely too, only she seemed very depressed. When I touched her I got a lot of memories, more than Jonathan had, she remembered practically everything. Her gift was burned out by the constant draining, and she remembered everything that had been done to her in that place. But the worst thing was, and that was why she was depressed, she had nothing to go back to.

Her parents were deceased, she had been living on the street when that mage found her. Nobody will come for her, living in that wasteland was the happiest she had ever been, because she had Jonathan, and brothers and sisters.

She couldn't remember ever having better food, or being loved better. In her mind, things could only get worse. I dealt with the trauma of her memories, practically all her memories were traumatic, and then George called Frances over to talk to her, to tell her things would get better, that we would make sure they would even though she didn't have any magic left in her.

Meanwhile we met up with Jonathan, checked on him, I had energy left working with George, he is clearly very experienced in magic. I'd like you to take a few lessons from him as well, I guess we will be working together often and he can improve our merge.

If your sleepy teacher over there agrees of course. Anyway, we told him about Laura, that's the name of the girl, that she remembered everything and that being in that wasteland with him was the best time of her life. That rightfully shocked him, and he promised to try to help her become a child again for a short time, which he was planning to do himself, be a child instead of a miniature adult for as long as possible, like a sort of holiday from responsibility.

I applaud him for that, I do it myself whenever I can. But I must admit he didn't seem to have much hope for his friend Laura. I did teach him to ride a bike, he wanted it very much and he was pretty good at it.

Then we had a good square meal and I took the bicycle back here. It was still early and I was bored, so I went to that place where we danced, and went a few rounds with some nice girls until they were giddy. They really liked me there, those girls got me drinks and all, and several wanted more but I told them I'd rather dance, so we did.

Some of the boys didn't like me though, I guess their sisters liked me a bit too much. When I got fed up I cycled home, and since I didn't have a key to the shed I put it in the workshop. I thought you might like to use it today.'

Which I did, I didn't expect Lukas to take it home but I was very glad he had: 'Lukas, so sweet of you to think of that, I was a bit disappointed I didn't have it here, it's so much faster than walking and I need to go to the council building today.'

Now a lazy baritone voice beside us drawled: 'If you're going there anyway, bring a marriage licence, will you? I'd like to get on with it.'

That certainly got our attention, both our heads turned instantly towards Paul, who was propped on an elbow again, looking, well, good. He looked good.

Lukas was with him in an instant, grinning broadly at Paul, saying: 'Congratulations my dear friend, you were made for each other, you will be very happy together.' Paul grinned nearly as broadly, then became serious again: 'Thank you Lukas. Please don't think that I am trying to take Melissa away from you.'

Just as seriously, Lukas replied: 'I will not. Melissa told me why you want to confirm your love with a marriage ceremony, and I love you even more for thinking of us. And now I want you to lie on your stomach for me.'

Of course Paul complied, and Lukas stroked his muscled back with a loving touch, until Paul nearly fell asleep with relaxation. Then we looked at the bullet-wound, now just two days old and already well on its way too healing, thanks to Lukas' extraordinary talent.

Lukas prodded the edges of the wound a little, and Paul didn't even wince. He laid his hand on it for a moment, concentrated, then declared: 'That is as good as healed now. How does it feel?'

'It feels nice, you have warm hands,' was the answer, muffled by the pillow, and, 'seriously, I'm fine, no pain, no fever.'

Paul sat up in one fluid motion and moved his shoulders, flexed his muscles, bent over: 'The scar tissue is a bit stiff, but once I'm back at the forge that'll get supple again soon enough. Or you can massage me again, that was so good.'

At the mentioning of the forge, Lukas tsk'ed and resolutely said: 'No forging for at least a week. Melissa just told me cooking caused you pain yesterday, your back muscles have been torn and need rest.

You can talk as much to George and the council member as you like, and you may boss me around in the workshop, for I need your supervision to finish a few projects that are due this week, and you may accompany Melissa to the council building to get a licence, but absolutely no hammering, working the bellows or lifting.'

In response, Paul hung his head and demurely said: 'Yes doctor. And thank you for saving my life.' Lukas took his chin in one hand and lifted Paul's face to his own: 'Are you fooling me around?' Still very demurely, Paul replied: 'Yes doctor, sorry doctor,' and got his laughing smothered in a kiss.

'I need to go quit my job today, and I need to work on my new job today, and I want to see how those children are doing,' I said. As a reaction, Paul asked me: 'If I accompany you on all three, will you stay with me during that talk with the council member? I don't like to make deals involving our time without at least one of you present.'

'Are you well enough to handle so much action in one day? You were still in a pretty bad way yesterday,' I remarked. He reasoned: 'I can sit down for most of it, it's just the cycling to the council building that is strenuous. We can probably even ride back home with George in the carriage for two of your points.'

That was true, and he added: 'Did George tell you what time they were planning to come here, Lukas?' 'He did, actually,' Lukas replied, 'right after lunch was the intent.'

With that, Paul stirred into action saying: 'All right, I'd like a shower and a nice breakfast before cycling to the town hall, so I'd better get moving.'

He looked at me questioningly: 'Care to join me in the shower?' I sure did, so we went upstairs, whilst Lukas dressed and went to the workshop to start on the jobs still waiting for completion.

You know I pride myself on being a strong woman, able to support myself financially, not prone to hysterical fits or excessive crying, but I have to admit I really liked to have my lover back to his vigorous self, letting him lead the way, having him take me in his arms with his greater physical strength.

We became really intimate under the shower, kissing passionately, touching greedily, but at some point Paul seemed to rein himself in sharply, taking it a lot slower from that moment on. He went back to just looking his fill, admiring my lush shape, kissing my breasts, my throat, my hair, touching me with something like reverence.

Of course I had no problems with being admired like that, what woman would? And it was very easy to admire him back, his elegant figure with subtle but very strong muscles, his wet curls framing a finely chiselled face, but still masculine with its squared jaw and the stubble, now nearly a short beard after two days without shaving.

I don't know how long we just stood there, touching each other carefully, tenderly, but at some time the hot water ran out and the shower turned cold rather suddenly.

We quickly dried each other and retreated to the bed, where we proceeded to make love very, very carefully, not forgetting anything, paying attention to every sensitive spot on the other's body. Even when we finally connected our bodies as closely as our minds, we did not speed up, or become less careful.

The consciousness of still being together after Paul's life-threatening wound was so strong in both of us that it nearly overcame our heat, but in time exaltation did get its short moment of supremacy, and we both reached an intense climax. Still we didn't speed up our actions, neither thinking of anything else but the person in front of him.

We held each other for another ten minutes, and then the real world entered again via Paul's voice asking: 'Do I need your parents' permission? I know you're twenty something, but how old are you exactly?'

'I will be twenty-one September the fifteenth, so I'm not yet twenty-one. That means you'll have to get my parents' permission, doesn't it?' I asked.

Lazily he replied: 'It does. I don't even mind, I'd like to meet your folks. I hope they approve of me. Fortunately we don't need my parents' permission, I turned twenty-one last February the seventh, just before we met.'

Oh my god, he was only twenty-one! If he had told me he would be thirty next year I would have believed him. Of course he expected my surprise, he smiled sweetly and asked, just as sweetly: 'You're not stuck on an older man, are you?'

This time I had to remind myself, not to breathe, but to close my mouth, which I did, instantly.

'You look cute when I've managed to stun you. Anyway, I think they'd approve, but we'd have to take a train or hire a carriage, it's a three day ride to their estate. They're usually not in town in high summer. The smell gets to them,' he said.

Which made me realize his parents were incredibly wealthy, and upper-upper class. He seemed so...normal.

'I am very normal,' he belied his own statement by picking my thought out of my mind, 'it's the rest of the world that is crazy. Do I really look so old to you?'

I told him frankly: 'I like to see you fall asleep, you always shed nearly ten years in a single moment. You told me you were near my own age, but I didn't realize how near, I thought you looked younger when you slept.