TITLE: Icarus Manor, chapter 3 AUTHOR: lillywhite1, but you can call me Casey. SUMMARY: In a mysterious mansion in a secluded part of North America, a man discovers that he is far from alone in the world. Here at Icarus Manor several species of non-human description live together to survive in a world that does not know they exist. LAST CHAPTER: Dominic meets the boss and he settles into his new life. THIS CHAPTER: PAIRING: Eventual DM/BB RATING: PG-13; still setting up the base for the affair. FEEDBACK: is my neutella on a spoon that makes me go all gooey and melty and mmmmm... A/N: Text in asterisks (*) represents italics. This is a book and a work in progress. Be gentle. Comments to cswann1@gmail.com. Chapter 3 Two hours later Dom, Orlando, and Elijah had gotten the room furnished and had made a rather hefty dent in their liquor supply. Elijah was only on his third lager but had shown himself to be quite the lightweight. Orlando was on the last few shots of his bottle of whisky and was also roaring drunk, although, not as much as Elijah. Dominic had chosen vodka, which he had learned over the years to have come with less of a headache in the morning than other drinks, and was trying desperately to drink Orli under the small, round table. They were munching on cherries in a small bowl of water as Elijah told a story: "And so," he continued, steadying himself, "Orlando slips due to the *awful* shoes he had insisted on wearing, falls on the rake, and hits himself in the nuts!!" Dom and Elijah burst into laughter, but Orlando was not amused. "I had to go to the dentist the next day because I’d chipped a tooth on that bloody fucking rake. And what the hell did you have that bloody fucking rake there for anyway?! It was supposed to be in the shed!" Orlando was clearly peeved, but Elijah continued on. "You brought that ‘fuggin’ bloodlyy’ rake over to smash that pixie that kept buzzing ‘round your head, you dumb git." *Did he say pixie?* Dom thought. "No, that was you." "Nah it wasn’t. You always wear too much cologne and the bugs flock to you. They think you’re a bleedin’ flower! You smell loud enough to be a goddamn walking rose garden!" Elijah fell off his seat laughing, Orlando’s face got redder and redder as he listened to Elijah laugh. Dominic could have sworn that he could smell smoke, but then again it could have been the glass of vodka and orange juice playing tricks on him. "Well at least I got the holes dug eventually, shoes or not." "Yeah, but it took you twice as long as it should have while you were cursing at the fairies that kept snuggling up to your damned atrociousss shirt. Then Seanie reassigned you to a job inside so you didn’t hurt yourself further. Face it, Orli. You suck at manual labor. You’re not strong enough." Orlando was clearly offended by the remark on his physical skills. Elijah was extremely drunk and failed to notice. Orlando’s face was glowing like smoldering coals and the smoke that was pouring out of his ears became so thick that Dom had to wave it away. *Damn smoke. My imagination must be really good.* Dom gave a chuckle and checked the proof on the bottle of vodka. "Well maybe Mr. Boyd just likes to have the more cultured and sophisticated ones closer to him. Maybe sweating outside is a job better suited for those work-horses with nothing mental to contribute to the well-being of the community." "Well-being of the community??" Elijah guffawed, "You hem his pants and pick out his curtains! What kind of mental anguish does that require?! How much of your I.Q. do you assign to avoid decorating disasters?!" And with that Elijah gasped and ducked. Dominic looked up just in time to see Orlando’s hair spark. *Spark?* And then the top of Orlando’s head burst into flames. Dom screeched and dove away. "HOLY *HELL*!" He grabbed the bowl of cherries and water and slung the contents in Orlando’s direction. Orlando looked at him and the fire died down when he saw Dom’s petrified expression. "Jesusfuckchristbitchfuck!" Dominic yelled at the top of his lungs. Orlando held up his hands in defense against another assault. "It’s okay, Dom. Calm down. I got it under control, see?" And with those words the fire on top of Orlando’s head rippled into waves that darkened in color from red to brown and bedded themselves back down like sleeping snakes. Orlando’s hair was restored, but Dominic had no idea what to think especially not now in his drunken state. "I must be going completely insane," he started out in explanation leaning in to stare at Orlando’s head and examine the brunette’s locks that seemed to really be flames in disguise, "I thought I just saw–" "You did." Elijah stated calmly. "Just watch. Hey, Orli." He giggled. "Sondheim couldn’t write worth a damn." Orlando’s eyes narrowed in anger and a small flame popped up on his left temple like a struck match. "See? It really happened. Why do you look so shocked?" "Shocked? I’m beyond shocked. I’m about to soil myself if you don’t tell me what in the blazes... uh... God’s name is happening to him." Dominic stuttered. "Happening?" Elijah paused; he and Orlando exchanged glances. "That happens every time he gets mad enough. Why? You didn’t suppose that he was human, did you?" Dominic took a second to absorb this new information. Then other random bits of observations came back to his attention. Orlando’s temperature changes, his quick heartbeat that changed paces every so often, his enormous eating habits, the sudden disappearances and reappearances... "Okay, I knew you were unusual, but what does that *make* you, then?" Orlando sighed. "Explanation time I guess. Alright. You’re familiar with elves, right?" "Not their actual existence, but in stories, yes." Dom said slowly. Orlando snorted. "Well, I am part of a race that lives in the forest. We’re like elves or sprites or nymphs, whatever you like to call them. All are different, but let’s start with a concept. We are anthropomorphic creatures that are designated to certain elements to protect them. Because of their association with said element, they sport characteristics of that element. For example, water nymphs, who protect the water system of localized areas, can be endowed with fins, a fish tail, the ability to breathe underwater, etc. My clan is the Luminota. We are of the fire element. My entire family is immune to the burn of fire; their hair catches fire when angered; we also burn fuel very quickly within ourselves, hence the seeming hyperthyroidism. We evolved to develop celerity as well but only as a consequence of our one and a half hearts." Dominic gaped. "So the reason your heartbeat is so...interesting is that–" "I have six chambers to my heart. The extra two kick in when I want to move quickly or get excited. It’s as simple as that." Orlando waved his hand in the air. Dom had an expression on his face that resembled a cup spilling over its top. Elijah spoke. "What? You had no idea that other supernatural creatures besides yourself existed? Other paranthropes, otherwise known as human-looking, non-humans? Didn’t you hear stories, or have friends who were something other than human or...well, what you are?" Dominic looked up startled. "Oh, god, you didn’t think we could tell?" Elijah said incredulously. "You didn’t think we could feel that you were different? That you took in our scents deliberately or that your eyes turned yellow when Sean made you angry? Or, for heaven’s sake, that you growl and yelp as part of your expressive vocabulary? A friggin’ human could’ve guessed you were a werewolf. Didn’t Mr. Boyd explain *any* of this to you?" A human, one human was all it took to ruin a werewolf’s life in the place he may have just learned to call home. Dominic looked down, ashamed he had been so obvious, but then again, maybe it had been partially intentional. Elijah never made an effort to control his odd behavior around Dom as well as Orlando who broadcasted the fact he was not human. Perhaps Dominic had been just following suit. "Yeah, so. I am. I am a werewolf. I was born one and I’ll be one till the day that I die, and perhaps even beyond that. Y’know what? I’m even proud of it. Deep down I *am* proud, even though I haven’t really been so as of late. You can’t be too obvious among humans. You can’t really be yourself among humans." Elijah smiled. "Now do you understand why you’re here? Why I said that you wouldn’t want to leave?" Dom looked up, not comprehending completely into Elijah’s bright blue eyes and dark lashes. "We’re all different here. We’re the missed minority of Earth. This is a sanctuary for those of us who can’t stand to play the human every hour of every day. Some of us, like you, can’t possibly do that. You are forced into honesty the three days of the full moon. Orlando is when he is angered." Elijah sighed like a mother introducing the best kept and most lovely secret of the world to her first born child. "Here we don’t have to worry about being anything but ourselves. There is a niche for each of us here to fill and earn our keep. We have our special needs met and we love it here. Mr. Boyd, for all of his eccentric ways is a good man, and he is doing something unprecedented and miraculous." Elijah’s eyes swam with emotion for the lord he obviously loved unconditionally. Dominic snuck a peek at Orlando who was nodding solemnly in agreement. "I mean, who else has flame retardant pillowcases specially made for me incase I have nightmares?" Orlando smiled slowly. They both watched Dominic for a sign that he wasn’t going to start screaming again. "That’s...that’s really great. But don’t you wonder what’s in it for him? Seems rather suspicious, doesn’t it?" Orlando answered, "Not really. If you had been without your pack your entire life, would you not have sought out others just like you? None of us belong in the human world. I think it only natural that we form a community of our own. And who can blame Mr. Boyd for turning it into a business deal? We work on the grounds for a small fee, we don’t make trouble and generally leave him alone, and in return he beds us and saves our lives. To me, we seem to be getting the better end of the deal, but in the end, none of us are alone. And for a billionaire like Mr. Boyd, maybe staving off the loneliness is worth more than his money." Orlando paused. "Oh, and did I mention that I think he’s astonishingly cute? That in itself is enough to make me stay." ~ Dominic stood, wiped a bead of perspiration from his brow, and snuck a peek at his watch. Only 10:00 a.m. It was sunny and he was thankful for the pine trees that now spread their arms over him to shield the sun. It was his first day working for Mr. Boyd, and he had been given a very strange task. He had been bedding dozens of some kind of small plant into the dirt for over two and a half hours now. They were squat and the normal shade of green for a plant, but they had strange translucent veins that glowed the slightest bit when the plant was touched. This tiny, insignificant fact might had bothered him normally, but after his interesting experience with Orlando’s exploding fiery head last night it would probably take a lot now to surprise our recently enlightened Dominic. Dominic took a split second to let the word *green* float through his conscious to his subconscious mind. Something yesterday was green and strikingly honest. He let the thought go. Dominic’s directions today were to put these plants around the entire border of the mansion of Icarus Manor with each plant only six inches in front of the last one. Dom looked back at the work he had done so far, and his heart sank. This was going to take a very long time. Dominic sighed and picked up his trowel yet again. Kneeling back down into the soft earth, he took in a deep breath and smiled. No matter where you were there would always be that comforting smell the ground gave. Dom loved that smell. When he had begun that morning and found his supplies, he immediately threw aside the brown cotton gloves laid out for him. What a stupid human habit. Why be so close to the earth and yet keep yourself sterile to it? Humans might as well incase themselves in latex before going outside they are so distanced from the earth. Dom groped for another one of the peculiar plants, gripped it at the base of the stem, and shucked it from its plastic pot before placing it in the freshly dug hole. The plant glowed briefly and then stopped as though settling into its new home. When Dom reached for his trowel he felt a sharp pang in his ankle. He looked down to see a large bulge in the side of his new trainers. Upon further investigation, he found a rock the size of a shooter marble pressing painfully against his ankle bone. But for a rock that big to have gotten so deep in his shoe, Dominic would have had to physically place it there before lacing the shoe up that morning. He shrugged at the oddity that lay heavily in his palm and tossed it over his shoulder. He had about a trillion more holes to dig. About three minutes later, Dom was standing to take hold of his shovel when he felt another painful twinge in his left shoe, and again he found another stone. This one was the size of a golf ball. He wound up and sent the rock hurtling through the forest. He had just knelt down to the dirt again when there was a tiny rustling and this time, Dominic found both his shoes filled from heel to toe with small pebbles. Dominic pondered this small miracle for a second and then took off his trainers and socks. “Is that better?” Dominic said out-loud to no one in particular. He was beginning to doubt his sanity when he actually got a reply. There were small chattering noises of approval coming from the forest behind him. He turned slowly to see minute figures, some flying, most walking towards him. There may have been ten of them. All but four were what a typical pixie might look like. They had small wings of various insects and stood about four inches tall. They had youthful faces, lithe bodies, and moved quickly. They didn’t appear to be wearing much clothing besides wrap skirts made of spider’s silk or upside- down flowers. The four that stuck out of the crowd were more like gnomes. They had grave little faces masked by short, braided beards and, unlike the other fairies, appeared to be much older. Their little bodies were round and fat, and they moved slowly; their wings were short and atrophied from disuse. These tiny bearded men wore naught but short loin cloths and skull-capping hats. The four of them looked rather like cherubs that had retired and really had let themselves go. The four grave faces made their way right up to about a foot of where Dominic was sitting transfixed. They adjusted their caps and scratched their heads as they studied him. All the others whisked around Dom’s head faster than he could follow. It was quite like being a may-poll. One of these pixies, who appeared to be a female, hovered in mid-air only a few feet from Dom. She gleamed with a light purple luster and wore a woven skirt of lilac petals and young milkweed. She faced him bravely; He being a hundred times her size did not seem to bother her in the least. She moved toward him slowly as though trying not to frighten him, and then she leaned back as though sitting on an air-pocket and showed him the bottoms of her feet as she wiggled her toes. “Ah, so you’re the one who had the idea? You don’t like my shoes?” Lavender crossed her arms over her teeny chest and looked sternly at him as she shook her head. Then a high-pitched voice clearly said, “No!” Many of the others echoed her declaration, apart from the gnome committee, which was still debating. “Why not, then, my little Lilac?” Dominic inquired. Again, the cute little thing sat back and showed him her feet as if to say, “Why trap your toes? It hurts them.” Then she mimed that it was a new topic and she showed Dom putting on his shoes and trouncing around wearing them. Then she screamed and ran in a circle as best she could in the air. “You poor dears. Shoes squash your houses.” Dom put out his hand to show he was sorry, but as soon as his hand was extended, she landed in the crook between his thumb and forefinger and nuzzled his thumb in an embrace. Apparently, he had gotten the message correctly. All of a sudden, the right side of Dominic’s shirt became much heavier. “Name.” A semi-deep voice demanded in punctuated tones. The gnomes had come to a decision and Dom had to pay attention that now they were all four climbing up his shirt to sit on his shoulders. Dominic was so fascinated he had forgotten the question. Once the four had settled on their perches, the demand came again. “Name.” One said a little louder. “Um, I’m Dominic Monaghan.” The four grumbled; the pixies chattered. Dominic had done something displeasing. Again came the prompt, “Name.” Dominic sighed. “Dom.” He tried again. The four repeated the syllable a few times till they felt they had got it down in their memories. ‘Dom’ echoed amongst them as they came to the conclusion they had understood. It was like talking to someone who was just learning your language. They obviously did not converse with each other in English. Dom wondered what a pixie would speak. The grumbling of the four fat pixies ceased suddenly and all focused their eyes on him. “Okay.” Said one gnome and all others nodded. Something had been solved. The same gnome who had just spoken waddled forward and stood on Dom’s trowel with both hands on its hips looking proud. “We.” He started. “Help.” ~ “Hey, Dom! It’s nearly one o’clock.” Orlando announced as he walked gracefully up the grass towards Dominic. He was carrying a basket and two bottles of water. “Thought you could use something to–GAH!” Upon Orlando’s sudden arrival all six flying pixies sped toward him like bees to honey. Orlando was as surprised as if he’d been shot. He dropped the water bottles and began swinging the basket around him in circles flinging its contents of wrapped sandwiches and such in all directions. Dominic jumped up. “Don’t hurt them. They’re helping me. They’re harmless.” “HARMLESS?! Do you have any idea how annoying these things are?!” Orlando took another swing narrowly missing a blue pixie who dodged out of the way and stuck its tiny little tongue out grotesquely in Orlando’s direction. The other five pixies did just the same. Orlando was exasperated. “Little buggers flock to me. I don’t know why.” But Dominic had a clue. Orlando’s yellow and pink flowered shirt was not only loud in color, it was made of a luminescent material that caught the rays of the sun and succeeded in making him shine. Beside that, he must have been wearing a quart of what might have been a fruity perfume and a few other scents that were equally girly and flowery. The man was a beacon. Orlando smoothed his hair back and tried his best to not look ruffled. He smiled charmingly. “As I was saying before, I brought you something to eat. The sandwiches were still hot so I courteously scattered them about the lawn so they could cool.” “That’s kind of you.” Dominic plucked an apple from the ground and brushed it off. “Did the chips need cooling as well?” “Of course. They’re salsa flavored. I would have been here earlier, but I hadn’t expected you to get this far already. I guess that’s thanks to your little pals the bugs.” Orlando’s mild insult was met by sloppy pppp-ing noises from the pixies. They hovered just out of Orlando’s reach but seemed entranced by his shirt and the scents that came from him so strongly. “They’re pretty fast. Only trouble is trying to keep them on task. Of course, the gnomes help with that.” Dom glanced at the freshest dug hole and the four fat pixies that stood by it. The four climbed on top of the next plant and all four grabbed the base of the stem. With a pop the plant and four gnomes disappeared leaving the plastic pot behind, then with a second pop, the four gnomes and plant reappeared in the hole. They grumbled happily and began to push the dirt on the sides in to fill the rest of the hole. “Just a second, mates. Let me help you with that.” Dominic hopped back to his place and swept the dirt into place and padded it down. The gnomes stomped on the new dirt a few times to make sure the job was done and then moved on to the next plant. “It is a bit easier when you only have to dig the holes.” “Nice work. Do they have their own union?” Orlando smirked. Then there was a small pop and the gnome wearing what looked like an old aviator’s hat and goggles appeared on Dom’s shoulder with a scowl. “I don’t think he likes your jokes, Orli.” The gnome tapped his foot thoughtfully and then asked, “Name?” “You can’t be serious.” Orlando looked incredulous, then he sighed. “Orlando.” The gnome sputtered as though offended. “They can’t handle that many syllables at once. Try ‘Orli.’” And as though on a timer, the word “Name” came from the deep voiced gnome. “Orli.” Orlando looked at Dom and shrugged unhappily. “Orl... Orli... Orli.” The gnome repeated. Then blew a big raspberry at Orlando. Orlando laughed. “Well, I can’t argue with that, can I? I like that little guy. Blunt as a spoon. I admire that.” Orlando bowed his head slightly towards the gnome, and to Dom’s surprise the gnome bowed back. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get back to work. See you inside at about seven for dinner. We’ll stop by your room to get you. You may want to shower. None of the brown you added to your skin this afternoon is from the sun.” And with extra flare in his wave, Orlando sauntered across the lawn toward the manor. ~ Please email comments to cswann1@gmail.com.