I said to FireFrenzy596 I would write an Amelie/Oliver story soon, so here we are! I decided to write this based upon Amelie and Oliver in the olden days, and how they may have had something in the past!
Breaking my OWN rule here (I said that I would only have one ongoing Morganville Vampires story at a time, and this will be my third atm!) but who cares! I was bored!
Amelie's POV – 1678
I do not have the patience to deal with this anymore. I cannot, I will not, live with these two IMBECILES any longer. They are the most idiotic, immature, selfish idiots I could ever meet… why am I friends with two people who hate each other so much, they fight when they are in the same room for longer than about five minutes. Myrnin and Oliver are absolutely ridiculous – why on earth they just cannot get along together, I do not know, but they will not stop arguing!
"Will you please stop arguing?" I ask, my patience entirely eradicated in just having to deal with these two idiotic inbreeds. They can never get along, for more than a few seconds – every single thing they disagree on. Even if they would agree if it was with someone else, they decide to think that they need to disagree just because the other one said their opinion first! "You have nearly made my head explode; so please just be quiet and let me think!" I continue and they both look sheepish. I place my head in my hands delicately, resting my elbows on the desk I am sitting behind, and squeeze my eyes closed, unable to look at the men sat in front of me.
Myrnin is on the left, wearing his usual outfit of black trousers with a white shirt, braces and a jacket with tails. His top hat rests on his knee and as he jiggles it, the noise cuts through my ears. Why does he have to be so annoying and do so much to annoy me? He may be my longest friend, but that doesn't give him the right to annoy me and such… the irritance I have for him just seems to grow and grow. It gets balanced out with his wit and just pleasure to be around. Normally, that is, not at the minute though!
Oliver is sat on my left (so therefore the right) and is wearing his usual outfit… which is near identical to Myrnin's. in fact, I believe the only difference is that Oliver's shirt is pleated, whilst Myrnin's is plain. Oh, and the fact that Oliver never accompanies his outfit with a smile. However, he does suit the entire sharpness caused by the colour of the clothing rather more so than Myrnin, who looks like he is playing dress up. Continually, I tell him that he suits emerald green more, but does he listen? However, Oliver… Oliver I don't need to tell him how he should dress – it's rather worrying how good he is with fashion, if I am truly honest.
I open my eyes and lift my head from my hands, feeling as if I am strong enough to face this situation now that lies before me. I see Oliver and Myrnin staring in opposing directions, as not to come into contact with each other. The last few seconds have been unusually quiet; I presume that it is because I have just snapped at them both.
"Amelie?" Myrnin says as I stare into the distance, inbetween the two of them, for many a moment. I am calculating something, something that means we can stay hidden from the humans and not be killed… after all, that is the name of the game, isn't it, to survive through these perilous times of witch hunts? The Salem Witch Trials was a terrifying thing to watch – there may be no such thing as witches, but the heightened belief in mythical creatures has caused us to be so much more careful than we would normally be. Well, I discount myself in that last point because I have always been careful, but others of our kind have needed to be more… prudent in their killings of late.
"Yes?" I ask, slightly aggravated at being interrupted.
"What are you doing?" he asks me, appearing slightly bemused at the flurrying of my lips that are making no noise whatsoever.
"I am calculating how long we have been here… unless you want to be caught and identified as a vampire, I can stop," I say, with a vicious undertone to my voice. After all, he is interrupting me!
"No, no, carry on," he says with a wide smile. I roll my eyes at him and move my vision over to Oliver. He looks studiously in the corner to my left but when I look away, through my peripheral vision I see him looking in my direction. I presume at his tender age (in comparison to me: one hundred years is nothing on almost seven hundred) he has forgotten that my eyesight is so much sharper than his, so I can see movements so infinitesimal, he wouldn't even recognise them. Ahh, to be so young and naïve – what I wouldn't give to be able to return to that.
"We have been settled here for nearly five years," I say, deciding that to round to the nearest year is much simpler than explaining the date down to the nearest day. "We need to be moving on shortly – after all, we do not want to be caught as I said," I continue, noting how both of them look shocked at the amount of time that has elapsed since we settled in this bustling market town. I feel a return to London ought to be on the cards: the animosity and lack of safety left over from the civil war and the rule of Oliver Cromwell MUST have finally waned away. At least, it must have waned to the point where houses are no longer burnt due to them being in the 'wrong section' of the town and being in either the royalist's side or the side of Oliver Cromwell.
"Where shall we go?" Myrnin muses aloud. "I always considered Glasgow," he continues, resting his hand under his chin. Oliver immediately diverts his attention from the wall behind me to face Myrnin and sneer, even though I could have sworn he mentioned about Glasgow the other week.
"No, no chance, fool," Oliver scoffs. "How about York – it is of a good size so that we can blend in, but is up north so gets less sun than the lower counties of the country?" he suggests. However, before Myrnin can snub that idea, I jump in. I think it is truly horrific that they will fight like this in front of me: do they not remember that I command respect and so much more from the rest of the vampires of the world (albeit not my father nor his minions) and will not stand for arguing occurring in my presence?
"We shall return to London," I say sharply, my voice able to cut through glass. Both of them turn to face me with a slight look of shock on their faces.
"B-but I thought you said that we couldn't return to the capital for many a year to come," Myrnin blusters.
"I said that nearly four decades ago, if you would care to pay attention," I say coolly, snapping my fingers at Oliver dismissively as he begins to make noise against Myrnin. "I have to admit I miss the hustle and bustle of the capital and as there have not been reports of violence ensuing for many a month, I believe that this is the optimum time to return," I say, making to stand. As I do so, I fan out the bottom of my dress so that the skirt is not crumpled from my sitting on it. The dress I am currently wearing is a very pale pink silk, with a tight bodice which flares slightly to reach the ground, angling out at my hips. It is one of my most flattering dresses, bought from many centuries of accumulated money, and I do concede the point that the square cut neckline procures much attention when I wear the dress. My long blonde hair billows over my shoulder, making me appear so much younger than when I wear it up: as a human, down was my preferred way to have my hair as this effect was so much more prominent then. After all, when my hair is down I do not look my four and twenty years I physically am. Myrnin is almost twenty seven, whilst Oliver is forty two physically: he had a hard life, resulting in his aged appearance – the hardship took it's toll on his appearance. Still, I would not mention this to him… I leave the insulting of his superficial appearance to Myrnin who handles this most aptly.
"Amelie, are you sure?" he idiotically presses. I flash over to stand over him, barely being taller than him even though I am stood and he is simply sitting. He has always been so much taller than me, and it is so awkward when we have to pretend to be married – I can never see his face, so simply have to assume he isn't pulling silly faces. We have been like this for the past five hundred years; since I turned Oliver almost one hundred years ago now, he has been the spinster living on his own… it helped him lure young girls to his bed before draining their blood. How eloquent and gentlemanly this trait is! However, he has had too much freedom – in the past, he has come close to unveiling all three of us, given we work in such proximity with one another. Perhaps it is time for a change: I am sure that Myrnin would like the chance to not have to attend all of these brothels he appears to be so fond of… it makes my skin crawl as I think about it- how vulgar!
"Of course I'm sure!" I say forcefully, making him look up in alarm as to how I am suddenly stood next to him.
"Then when shall I pack, milady?" he asks me smoothly, smiling his crinkle eyed grin. I roll my eyes and turn to face Oliver, flicking my long hair carefully over my shoulder.
"I have grown bored of living with you, Myrnin, for the past half a millennia," I say to Myrnin whilst facing Oliver. The latter turns to face me and looks me directly in the eye, something which has always irritated me. Most (with the exception of Myrnin, my ally and near equal) vampires do not look me in the eye, for fear of being deemed rude or offensive to my power and rule. However, Oliver is an exception for some reason. He always looks me in the eyes, always. I will not pretend that it doesn't unnerve me slightly, for it does. It also brings something inside of me that I cannot explain – a feeling which confuses me slightly. A feeling that renders me slightly more dumbstruck around him. I have no idea what on earth it could be – I have never felt it before. Still, I have enough wit about me to keep him in his place to prevent him trying to lead a mutiny against me. Even if he tried, he wouldn't be able to defeat me. Still, he can dream can he not?
"Then where shall you live?" Myrnin's voice interrupts my staring at Oliver. I look away but I feel Oliver's eyes linger on me for a fraction of a second longer before looking away.
"I shall live with Oliver," I say slowly.
"WHAT?" Myrnin squeals. I knew he would take it like this!
Sorry it is so short – I just wanted to get an inkling as to whether or not you liked the story and such.
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