The Mysterious Knight 🏹 🔞 |Harry Styles AU| COMPLETED ✔

Chapter 13

“Marcy,” he whispered  and took two more unsure steps towards the said man.

“You,” the monk whispered in bewilderment.

"Yes, it's me Harry... Marcey I'm back..." he said with a wavering voice. Eyes watering.

With an animalistic sound Marcel launched himself at his brother.

Harry never even knew what hit him, Marcel's attack was so violent and sudden.

A blow to his left cheek sent him sprawling into a nearby stall, and as soon as he landed Marcel leapt upon him, his fists pummeling him again and again. Until he started bleeding.

Rosaline was thoroughly stunned. She had never seen such a sight or imagined anything like it.

A monk, of all people, wrestling like a common knave!

She didn’t know what to do...

If it had been Harry and some other common man, she would have dumped a bucketful of the horses’ water on them, but she didn’t know if throwing water on a monk was allowed by the Church, and she had too much consideration for her soul to endanger it by committing a sin in ignorance.

Unable to think of anything more helpful, she simply ran around the fighting men, begging them to stop.

“No, no, Harry!” she cried when he punched the priest in the stomach, doubling him over before hitting him again to send him flying into a pile of hay.

“He’s a monk! A monk, Harry! You mustn’t hit him!”

“I know damned well what he is!” Harry roared. “Stay the hell out of the way, Rosaline !”

He barely got the words out before Marcel slammed into him again, sending the both of them sliding across the stable floor.

This time Marcel ended up on top and quickly straddled his struggling brother, pinning him down.

“You rotten bastard!” he shouted. “I’ve been waiting for ten years to do this to you, and I’ll not be denied my pleasure!”

“Oh, oh, oh!” Rosaline exclaimed in horror “Father, your language!”

“Shut up!” both brothers shouted at her .

“Well!” Rosaline stamped her foot.

“Do you have any idea how I felt that morning... when I woke and found you gone?” Marcel demanded angrily.

“Do you?” He shook him.
“Sixteen years we were together, never apart,
sharing everything,
and yet you snuck off in the middle of the night without so much as a word to me! Not one damned word!” He lifted a fist and furiously slammed it into Harry's face.
“You’ll never be able to imagine what you did to me! Never!”

Harry stopped struggling and just took his brother's blows, he felt miserable.

“I’m sorry,” Harry mumbled, groaning, shaking his head to clear it. “I’m sorry, Marcey.”

“Sorry!” Marcel repeated.
“You appear out of nowhere Ten years later and all you have to is that say you’re sorry?!!”

“I never meant to hurt you...
I never meant that, Marce, you know that’s true.
But I had to go.”

“You didn't have to go Harry!"

Marcel told him.
"You didn't have to! You could have stayed with us, with me!!
We would have worked through the pain. But I had to do it all alone when you deserted me!

We could have worked it out together.
Like we always did!
But instead you chose to runway, like a coward! You selfish bastard! And the worst part is that you’re running still.
Harry STYLES!” He spat the last word out with disgust. As if it was burning his tongue.

"And you never came back! You never care for me! Forgot me!"

“No, I didn’t come back,” Harry agreed miserably.

“But I did write, Marcey, so that no one would ever worry about me. I never forgot you Marce ! How could I have? You are a part of me..."

Marcel nodded grimly, shoving at Harry's shoulders.
“That’s right.
You wrote on occasion.
And Lillie cried over every single time, just as she cried her heart out for weeks after you ran away
You selfish monster!
She blamed herself, and nothing Alex or I or anyone else did or said could make her think otherwise. That’s what you did to her with your selfishness, brother.”

“Oh God,” Harry whispered, his voice filled with pain. “I didn’t mean to hurt Lillis.”

Marcel laughed bitterly.

"Oh but you did!
You didn’t mean to hurt me, and you didn’t mean to hurt Lillis, and I’ll assume you didn’t mean to hurt Alex or Aunt Leta or anyone else, but you did, Harry! You did.”

He moved off his brother at last and slowly stood.

“Now, tell me, what are you doing here?” he asked coldly. “Why did you bother to come home after all these years? Was it check if I was still alive?”

“No, father! He came b-because of me,” Rosaline murmured, horrified at what she had made Harry do...

Marcel turned to look at her as Harry lifted himself from the ground.

“And who, my lady, are you?”

“Marce ,” Harry said, gingerly rubbing his bruised jaw,

“please meet Rosaline .
I don’t know her last name, so you’ll have to live without that.

Rosaline , meet my brother, Father Marcel Dart .
Rosaline ’s in need of help, so I’m taking her to Alex.
But I…wanted to see you first…so I thought we might spend the night here.
But if you want us to leave, we will.”
When Marcel glanced at him sharply, Harry added,

“I understand, Marce. It hasn’t been long enough for me not to know your thoughts anymore.”

Marcel made no reply but turned his gaze once more to Rosaline , surveying her first with the same anger he had directed at his brother, then with growing curiosity.

Rosaline starred back curiously.

“Why, of course,” she said.
“You’re twins. That’s why I mistook you for Harry !.”

Unconsciously she inched toward Harry until she stood beside him. Only then did she make a tiny bow.

“Father,” she greeted dutifully.

“My lady.” He nodded at her.

“If we have you to thank for bringing my brother home, then not only I, but my entire family, will be most grateful to you.”

She eyed him suspiciously.

“You don’t seem grateful to see your brother, my lord.
Indeed, from your manner and speech I should think you’d rather string me up than thank me.” The words came out of her with surprising tartness.

Instead of being angry, as she had expected him to be , the monk surprised her by lowering his eyes down .

Slipping his hands into the sleeves of his plain tunic, he looked suddenly meek and defenseless.

“I think, then, my lady, that you know nothing about twins. You are wrong when you say that I am not glad to see my brother. His return is the answer to a prayer I have prayed every night since the night I saw him last.”

“Marce,” Harry pleaded, reaching out to his brother once more.

Marcel quickly sidestepped him and started for the door.

“I shall see to your lodgings.” His voice was stern again.
“The evening meal will be served in two hours’ time.”
And left without sparing them another glance.