Like Much In (My) Life Ch. 02-03

"I'm fine Rosy, I just ran into a little trouble."

"But, Raybourn, you should be more careful!" she pouted "You know how much I worry about you!" she stared earnestly at him.

"I'm fine Rosy, please don't worry so. I hate to see you unhappy." He looked like he would melt into a big gooey puddle, any minute now.

"Well," she pouted again, "you're sure you're not hurt?"

I had a feeling my tongue was growing hair, there was so much lovey dovey stuff going on I felt seriously tainted. Not that I was the only one who found the display distasteful. From what I could see of the large domineering figure fast approaching on the horizon, things were about to get interesting, as opposed to just painful. I deliberately tore my gaze away from the cooing couple and focused on the approaching whirlwind. I might have warned the paladin and his rose but I didn't think they would even hear me; and besides I might puke. The other offended party was another tall dark and handsome paladin, though from the white wings that framed his long lean body, I was guessing he was not black.

"Raybourn!" he bellowed, and I thought the roof would cave.

This time 'Raybourn' flinched and moved minimally away from Rosalia-my-love, while she merely beamed at the oncoming projectile and held out her arms. The ensuing hug appeared to be more of a collision than a demonstration of affection, but my motto had always been: when in Rome, don't judge.

"Darling!" she squealed "Raybourn's back! And he's fine, isn't that just the most fantastic news!"

"Raybourn," he growled, "were on Hell's isle have you been? You were due back Tuesday night." His face smoothed out as his arm twined possessively round Rosalia-my-love. His hand firmly planted on her hip, her body so squished against his I wondered how she could even breath. Not that she was complaining, in fact, she looked smug and happy, her hands now clutching at the newbie while her eyes still made love to my paladin. Yes, he was back to being my paladin, as Rosalia Rosalia did not have him, I could and I was determined I would. Fair is fair, there were two gorgeous paladins there and she was not going to have both of them.

"I ran into Raith," sighed my black paladin, to a chorus of shocked silence. "I picked up his scent at Marlowe's and thought I'd track him, when, well..." he looked sheepish.

"You got pummeled." Finished the white one, concern now evident on his strong face.

"Yes."

"Ahhh, brother, you should watch your back, being foolish isn't going to get any of us anywhere. Now, let's let Janus look you over, just to make sure Raith left you with no unhealthy surprises."

Well, well, turns out being a wallflower has its moments. Who would have thought that white and black were brothers? Well, now that I looked at them, they did have similar features, and build and mannerisms, but I would have thought that white and black paladins were a different race or species or something. Both brothers were tall and dark, but where my paladin had short boyish locks of deep satiny black, the white one had long straight midnight hair all the way to his narrow hips. Their faces were hard and chiseled, but where Ray had a thin mouth that curved naturally up at the corners, his brother had lush thick lips that gave him a brooding air. Their eyebrows were thick over identical ebony eyes and they both had square masculine jaws. It was a sight to behold, for both were drop dead gorgeous, but I was disappointed to find that my body only seemed to react to my black bird. I would have been relieved to find my infatuation with him to be merely a hormone induced lustful zeal, instead I had a sinking feeling that, I was really and truly sunk.

"Rosalia, would you show Raybourn's companion round and get her quarters sorted out for her? I beg your pardon miss," he grinned sexily at me, his eyes taking in everything. "I'm so relieved to have my brother back whole I have neglected you terribly. Let me introduce myself, I am Cesar Carmon Ramnick, Raybourn's older brother."

"Delighted I'm sure," I murmured, admiring his expertly seductive manners as he lifted my hand gently and kissed it. "Alicia Aishia Bennedictine, but its Alice for short."

"Enchanting... name. Alice, I promise we shall become great friends," he winked at me. "once I've carted Raybourn to the doctor and made sure he is as healthy as he looks."

"I see you are a dedicated older brother," I grinned, liking Cesar the outrageous flirt more with each passing minute. At least he didn't behave as if I didn't exist while Roaslia-my-love was standing by. "which," my grin widened "is always a sign of good character." I tried not to chuckle at his mildly shocked but appreciative expression as I winked back at him.

A loud and mildly strained titer brought Rosalia back into the conversation, as she gasped, one hand delicately held over her mouth. "Oh my! I'm so sorry," she simpered, I had a bad feeling about this. "you're a girl! Well, of course you're a girl, I mean now that I look..." she left her sentence hanging, her hands gesturing up and down, a look of gross pity on her face. I could see her point, there was me, there was she, well nothing more really need be said.

I glanced amusedly at my paladin, personally at a loss for polite words and wondering mildly at his silence. I was shocked to find an angry looking Raybourn glaring daggers at me, I wrinkled my nose at him, now there was steam wafting out his ears. Well, it wasn't my fault his little hug with Rosalia Rosalia had gone by by. Brothers may share some things, but I had a feeling Cesar did not want to share darling Rosy. Too bad, I smirked, Raybourn would just have to bite the bullet on this one.

"Rosalia," sighed Cesar, "ladies dress differently on Earth. Trousers are not an indication of sex. I beg your pardon Alice, but Rosalia has never left Angels Crevice, so she naturally assumed you to be Raybourn's new page. Speaking of which, Raybourn, were is Maximus?"

Ray flinched, going from mad to sheepish and back again. "We didn't get along, so I left him with Orvil, they seemed to hit it off."

Cesar looked disapprovingly at Ray. "Well," he sighed "we'll have to see about that too, shan't we? It has been a real pleasure Alice," he beamed my way "but now I shall let Rosalia take care of you, I'm sure you're tired and wish to rest a bit before the evening meal."

"Why thank you Cesar," I suppressed an urge to curtsy "it's been delightful."

2

In life there are many things one can rely on, but like the yin and yang of time, they can be good and they can be bad. The good tend to be corruptible, as any who have been to an amateur Shakespeare production can attest to (the plastic asp should not be the shining light of Anthony and Cleopatra), but the bad never are, as proved by the determination rhubarb displays in forever remaining unpalatable whatever the concoction. In many cases, the bad outweigh the good, although one might claim that this is because the bad are more memorable. So for each silken pillow, there is always an alarm clock, for each bar of chocolate a rainy day, for all small and weak rainbows a rush of late busses, parking fines, broken ATM machines, building sites and pushy pedestrians.

Being a pessimistic optimist, I refused to live my life by these rules but, the rules tended to live my life whether I liked it or not. Therefore, as Rosalia-my-love escorted me about my new and perhaps temporary home, I was not overly surprised when she turned out to be a feline on the attack. I had obviously trespassed into her patch and as all rabid females (I of course was never rabid) was, in the advent of no male witnesses, proceeding to show me who was boss. I didn't mind, the scenery was entertaining, I could tune out the lecturing rabbit and occupy myself with plans of attack for my sweet little paladin.

"So, Alice, as you won't be staying long..." she paused, looking sideways in my direction waiting for the outraged denial or any other easily definable tell, so I remained mute "I'll take you to Myra. She deals with all of our temporary guests..." blah blah blah. I could admire both her persistence and her elegant insults. The slights were invariably in the nuance of tone, the arch of an eyebrow and very rarely buried in the words themselves.

Unfortunately for her, as I was not male, the scenery was very much more interesting. From the discussions I had overheard thus far, one would have thought that Angel's Peak, the city on top of Angel's Crevice, would be something out of a science fiction novel. Interlocking, science defying spires in gold platinum and plastic, ladies in ferociously weird costumes, men with large swords and power bracelets talking on mobile phones; the usual mix of medieval and futuristic with a dash of bad taste for added effect. Instead, to my very great relief, we seemed to be in a rather large house. Made of brick. Very nice, with high ceilings and tall windows, but there seemed to be not even a hint of the unnatural. Even the scenery, a large and impressive garden, which I only managed to admire as Rosalia strode me along, was very normal. After a few minutes I decided that I liked it. The design was simple, but elegant. The furnishings sparse, which is how I like it in hall ways, the doors solid looking for ultimate privacy, the light good, the air fresh but not cold; all in all it was a nice house with nice gardens and it could have been anywhere in Europe. In fact, despite the ridiculous name, my mode of arrival and the two moons cheerfully hanging in the sky; I was almost convinced I was in Europe.

Plus, I had to admit, the inhabitants were a bit peculiar. There weren't that many with wings, but the ones that had wings had them in various shapes sizes and denominations. From all out feathers, to delicate gossamer fairy wings accompanied with an array of paws, antennae, varying sizes of ear, nose and skin color. There also seemed to be a vast number of normal looking folk, like Rosy dear, and all one could say about them was: I was suspicious. Normal people in an abnormal situation have to be very very weird and very very dangerous. The best camouflage is always the hardest to pull off.

That set me wondering about Rosy dear and my paladin. I didn't think she would turn me into a pumpkin, well, not quite yet anyway. However, I did have to consider the idea that she might be able to, and then to evaluate as to whether paladin boy was worth it. I sighed as my brain immediately went into poetic overdrive over his deep, deep eyes, the ones I wanted only looking at me. Again, sigh. So, I was stuck with my paladin, not that I was really complaining, and so Rosy and her pumpkin creating abilities would have to stuff it. Anyway, I indulged in a nasty indoor chuckle, I knew Rosalia-my-loves Achilles heel. Ta-da, Cesar. I suspected Cesar and I were going to get along very very well. I also suspected that getting to know Cesar very very well was going to be mountains of fun, that boy was seriously charming.

"Well," the huffy tone intruded on my private musings "well!" another huff. I turned to look at Rosalia-my-love, who now had a very pissed off look on her face, her hands on her hips and her back to a rather terrified looking girl. "This" hissed Rosalia "is Myra. She'll take care of you." She managed to make 'you' sound like a personal and very subtle flaw in my character and then with a toss of her head she strode off. I usually disliked it when tall people did head tosses at me, I always felt it was going too far, they were already tall what else did they want? But this time, my inner imp found it amusing; I figured annoying Rosy was going to be inevitable; so why not enjoy it?

I turned my attention to little Myra and gave her an encouraging smile. People who are actually shorter than me are instantly allowed a get out of jail free card and bonus points. Especially as it's rather hard to do, at 5'4 I consider myself a midget, probably because my family are all hideously tall. Even my little sister is over 6 feet which was the last straw and has always made me feel deprived. So much so, that I used to ask Santa for a growth spurt. As he never gave me one I figured that either he was very inconsiderate or very fictional. I now had a feeling I should reconsider sending him a rude letter.

"Hello Myra," I beamed. "I'm Alice."

3

Three hours and forty minutes later I was considering suicide, mass slaughter and grand larceny as ways to blow off a little steam. Myra and her girls were lovely, but there was only so much that a self-neglecting book worm could take. For the love of all things dear, namely books and more books oh and cute feathered guys, they were pampering me! All I did was smile and before I knew were I was, I was being spa-ed. First they striped me, then they washed me in a tub, with pink foam, and rose scented steam, and soap that lathered. Then they washed my hair, in oily mint scented stuff that admittedly felt divine; while giving me both a manicure and pedicure. Then they steamed me, oiled me, steamed me, dried me, creamed me and fluffed me, brushed and buffed, polished and patted; till I was dizzy, tired and very grumpy.

When Myra came out with scented sparkly body powder I was about ready to give up suicide and mass slaughter for good old fashioned screaming.

"Myra," I said gently, for me anyway, "is that really necessary?"

"But, Lady Alice!" her tone was soft, her eyes huge puppy dog eyes; all sweet and innocent "This will make your white lily skin glow!"

"Myra," I choked, "I doubt any leap of the imagination could call my pallid skin lily white. Which illustrates my point, don't you think this is a lot of work for no effect? Don't get me wrong, I appreciate all the attention, but, um could we perhaps speed things up a bit?"

There was a shocked frozen silence and then Myra clapped her hands. Fine, I might have been a bit rude, but if it stopped all this silliness I was fine with that. I was just about to wipe the anxiety induced perspiration from my forehead when I noticed that Myra's bevy seemed to be more industrious than ever. I almost groaned out loud when I saw them wheeling in massive gold and diamond encrusted mirrors. This was really too much, now not only did I have to feel like an idiot, I had to look at myself feeling like an idiot.

I looked at Myra imploringly, begging her silently to stop this torture and let me go hide under a nice bed. My attempt at vulnerable puppy dog desperation was a failure. Myra crossed her arms over her chest, a determined warrior stance backing up her no nonsense expression.

"Now, Lady Alice," she said. "it is almost criminal that a beauty such as you," I blanched "should not appreciate her good fortune. So," I palled perceptibly, "you are going to look in these mirrors" she gestured vaguely while I tried to keep the contents of my stomach actually in my stomach "till you see what all others see in you. A stunningly beautiful," my ears burned, "gorgeously formed," my stomach heaved "siren." she finished.

"Myra," I gasped weakly, wondering if I could appeal to her sense of the obvious, "I have looked in mirrors before, so I am aware of what I look like," I paused "is it so bad to be realistic about such things?" I implored desperately.

"Exactly my point!" she smirked, "I just want you to see and acknowledge what others see in you, in other words these mirrors will show you the reality, not what you wish to believe is reality."

There was no persuading her, Myra might have been little, but she was obviously related to large immovable objects and had inherited their knack of standing firm. I spent quite a while squirming, begging, kicking, using force and wiles to try and get out of it. I know that normal girls like standing in front of mirrors appreciating their beauty or whatever, but I've never been one of them. My reflected me is always too short, chubby, big breasted and awkward to be anything other than a painful reminder of exactly why I decided to become a dedicated bookworm. It isn't as if I wouldn't have liked books under other circumstances; I would just have delegated so as to spend time doing other things as well.

So, despite my cowardly reluctance to face myself, soon enough I stood in front of the formidably mammoth mirrors gazing at myself in horror.

"You see," chirped Myra smugly "look at those shapely legs, those gently curved hips, that impossibly tiny waist and your breasts," she gestured "round voluptuousness; enough to make any man drool, while your hair is that of a goddess. Such long and blond and silky hair, with a natural gentle wave in it, making it flow and catch the light. You are" she pronounced with finality "delicious."

I gaped slightly at my reflection and raised a shaky finger "That is not," I gasped "me." I goggled, "it can't be! I'm plump and too round and just sort of frumpy; if one can be frumpy while being naked. And besides," I said triumphantly "no man has ever thought me gorgeous."

"And how would you know." Smirked Myra. "Our mirrors don't lie, their charmed to show only the truth, even if the viewer does not wish to acknowledge it. You are beautiful and there is no way for you to get away from the fact. Besides, how long is it since you looked at yourself in a mirror?"

I stuttered and turned slightly pink at her knowing look, trying desperately hard to remember when I had last used my bedroom mirror. "Um," I mumbled faintly "recently (?)" I then had the dubious pleasure of watching the reflections of my cheeks flush a guilty rosy red as Myra and her girls tittered in amusement at my naiveté. "You know," she grinned devilishly "with your beauty you could entice any man into your life and onto your bed." And I must confess, that that, was when she got me; hook line and sinker.

4

Turns out that Myra and her girls knew a lot more than just how to make even me beautiful. They were also plugged in to the house, town, region and empire gossip. It seemed they knew more about me than I did, and had already been fully informed as to my crush on darling Ray. I hadn't been aware that it was that obvious, but according to them, it was written loud and clear all over my face. While I found this humiliating, they thought it was wonderful. In the words of the all knowing Myra "It's about time he found a real lady for himself." she huffed "Instead of that brat his brother is bonded to." At which comment the entire room hummed with agreement. Seems the delightful Rosalia-my-love, was not quite so loved by others as by her paladin duo. Although this made me feel better about detesting her, the comment that really got my hopes up and my engine revving, was what Myra said next. Namely: "You know, if you let us continue, I guarantee Ray won't be able to keep his hands off of you. Besides, I know were his room is and I can smuggle you in past his guards." Turns out not only did Myra know everything, she also knew everybody. Ray's guards were her cousins twice removed and as Myra put it, were very family orientated. Besides I had just experienced first hand what saying no to Myra meant, I therefore believed my confidence in her to be well placed.

This time, the continuation of the interminable fluffing and prepping, was not so difficult to bear. Probably because I spent most of the time in complete la-la land drooling over all the things that I hoped might happen; and all the things I was determined would happen. Someone once told me that virgins have lustful rampaging imaginations; well this just-post-virgin definitely had a bad case of rampaging lust and I couldn't wait to let it and myself loose. My mind was just working up to exactly how I wanted to wrap my lips round his gorgeous cock, whether I wished to play with him first, maybe take a few nibbles or whether I would rather suck him in deep for a bit to savor his taste, before I got to the teasing; when I was jerked out of my fantasies by Myra pronouncing me ready.