Hi everyone! I'm back! Last year I've flirted briefly with fanfic when I didn't feel like writing my masters thesis... Well, I've finally finished it, and I am now a very proud (unemployed) Master of Musicology, hahaha. Since that ordeal is over, and I am sitting around here doing nothing, I just felt like writing again. I hope you guys will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. I also thank all of you who post Slayers fanfics in this site from the bottom of my heart, because I am an avid reader and YOUR STORIES have helped me through the excruciating and painful process of writing my thesis. So, thank you!
On a side note, English is not my mother language, so I would really appreciate if you could tell me if I have made any grammar or language mistakes. Some sentences might seem odd as well, since I am still getting used to the structure of the English language.
Anyways Enjoy!
The Plot: The Slayers go to the infamous city of Cenive, and get tied up in a plot full of seduction & treachery. A mysterious nobleman vows his love and devotion to Lina Inverse. Are The Slayers going to break apart? Gourry/Lina/OC, Xellos/Filia, Zelgadis/Amelia. Rated T, but might be M in the future.
The Characters: Mr. Davon is entirely my own. The rest, sadly, are not - but I love them so much it feels as if they were.
The Copyright and the Slayers World: Not mine (SOBS!)
The Lack of Common-sense: That is entirely my own (and Lina's too, I suppose).
Chapter 1 - The Other Woman
The noble city-state of Cenive was peculiar in many ways. It was one of the most picturesque travel destinations on the other side of the Desert of Destruction. The city stretched across more than 100 small islands in the marshy Cenivean Lagoon, along the sea in the Southern Coast. The saltwater lagoon spread along the shoreline between the mouths of two great rivers, which divided themselves into several smaller springs. These geographical eccentricities, however, were never an impediment to the city's growth, since early Cenivean settlers had devised an ingenious water canal complex which also functioned as a transportation system. It was why Cenive was sometimes referred to as "The Floating City". The islands were connected to each other by many bridges, and most rivers were as large as a normal street, so the ensemble was well blended with the general architecture. And Cenive's architectural glory was well-known. Its buildings were magnificent, built from light calcarian rock and filled with many ample arcs and towering columns. Many islands had palace after palace, four of five-story high buildings, lined side by side in an endless parade of golden engravings, finely sculpted statues and elaborate frescos. It was as though their builders had competed with each other to see which construction could catch people's eyes the longest. In fact even the simpler two-story high houses had an air about them that made them different from other ordinary city houses. They just seemed regal somehow. The richest palaces, aside from all the other fine details, were crowned by huge brass domes that rose high in the Cenivean sky, and shone brightly in the sunlight. The entrance stairs stretched down into the river-streets, like the whole structure itself sprang from out of the waters.
The abundance of palaces attested to Ceniveans' wealth. The city-state was mostly a merchant town, but it was ruled by ancient and considerably wealthy noble families - which were made even wealthier by the deals struck with the merchants. The few clergymen that lived there were not left outside of negotiations. However, money was not all they lived for. Aside from profitable economic transactions and a lot of inconsequential "smile-nod-wave" politics - and the occasional backstabbing of political allies - the city's high and mighty lived and breathed for two sole purposes: gambling and pleasure-seeking. Oh yes! Because, more than being famous for its unusual geography, its water canals and its grandiose architecture, Cenive was famous for its brothels and its prostitutes. Or courtesans, as they were more commonly called. Cenivean clergy, perhaps the most permissive of the Four Worlds, overlooked their city's moral depravity (not a difficult task, since they themselves were served by some of the most beautiful women in town) and the city's night life was famed amongst libertines in all the corners of the world. There was a brothel in practically every island, most of them very high-maintenance. In them, Ceniveans and people from all over the continent gambled away their money, drank lots of booze, and sought comfort in the arms of frivolous bare-breasted beauties. It was why Cenive was widely known as "The City of Pleasure".
Cenivean courtesans were famed as the most beautiful in the world. Some of them were so sought after they actually had the luxury of picking their clients. Only the richest could afford them. And as far as pleasure giving goes, they had it down (or up?) to an art form. Every respectable nobleman had to support at least one courtesan financially, and though her services did not become exclusive, she would become his favorite, his mistress, his precious, his bed-warmer, his colombe, whatever one wished to call it. She should at least be available from time to time.
But all of this had nothing to do with love, of course
It was already late at night. The shadows danced across the room, over the walls covered by richly woven tapestries, over the silver and gold panels, projected by a very soft and diluted candlelight. The room was vast, and in it there was a master bed, surrounded by plying curtains in heavy burgundy velvet. There were a few chairs, a divan covered by a golden mantle, a small side table in which lay a tray with grapes, prunes, almonds and a bottle of fine Cenivean red wine. There was also a large work desk, in which sat a small pile of books and parchments, and a comfortable armchair.
She was lying in the bed, staring through the window of the balcony. She could see the tall window of the house across the street, directly into a boudoir. A young couple made passionate love on top of a work desk, much like the one in front of which he sat right now. She was a beautiful woman: soft suntanned skin with a curvaceous figure, round perky breasts, graceful arms, long elegant legs, and long black hair that fell in curls over her shoulders, framing her statuesque visage. Her dark eyes gazed into the night.
It was when he stopped sleeping beside her at night she knew it was over between them. In fact, as she looked at the virile silhouette of a naked man sitting in his armchair, reading an illuminure, she asked herself if they ever had anything to begin with. She supposed that, at some point, she had started to believe their own little masquerade. She had served the noble family of Caun - the father, the uncles, the grandfather and the two sons - for some time, and she had a few other very generous and wealthy clients. She was the mistress of the second son of the Duke of Caun, and he provided well for her. She could never complain. But he somehow made her believe that there was something more. His elegant manners, his passionate words, his caresses and the way he looked at her... He had her fooled. Oh, he had many other lovers, to be sure, all of them brief diversions. But during the moments she had shared with him, and they were not few, she had actually started to believe he might love her. Silly of her of course. She was such an experienced woman, she should have known. It's just that there was something absolutely irresistible about that man.
"When he does love", she pondered, "it will be with a fervor that is hard to match. She will be a very fortunate woman, indeed".
She could hear him gasp in awe over one of the scrolls he was reading. In fact, she suspected he had already fallen in love. Only this was a much too complicated affair, since he had never actually met the woman. But she just knew. For night and days he read book after book, scroll after scroll. He entertained in his house people who had already met her, and who could tell him of her many deeds. Oh, it was a famous woman, no doubt about it. But it was mostly the way his eyes glinted ardently when he pronounced the woman's name that made her realize she had lost her lord and lover.
"Milord" she asked in a low raspy voice "Will you not come to bed?"
"No, I will not" he answered without looking away from the scroll "I shall be reading until morning".
Somehow, she had suspected it. She breathed deeply.
"Shall I retire, my lord?" she asked tentatively.
"Yes, you may go" he added briefly.
She got up, without bothering to cover her perfect naked body, and walked towards the door. But before she left, her master called.
"Mistress Fulvia!"
She stopped before crossing the door, and slowly turned her head back. He would say it, she just knew.
"Your services are no longer required".
"As you wish, my lord".
She nodded and then left. A single tear fell from her cheek. He never looked away from his scroll. Never. As was the custom, she would leave by morning in a carriage provided by him. Then all of her belongings would be sent over to the palace of her next patron, whoever it might be. She suspected it would be his brother, the older son of Caun. But this one, the second son... She would need a couple of weeks to get over him. It was very good while it lasted, and it was surely over.
"This other woman... She is a very lucky one, indeed".
After the woman left his room, the man finally put down his scroll and smiled. Fulvia had been a very pleasant distraction, but now was no longer the time for distractions. He needed to set his plan to action. He would meet her. Yes, things would go according to his plan and he would finally meet her. He was so excited he could barely contain himself. He stood up from his chair - the tall, well-built, long-haired, dark-eyed man - and felt his heart pace quicken. He looked again at the scroll: in it there was the stylized drawing of a young woman, a sorceress apparently, who controlled a powerful spell with her bare hands. She seemed to be in the process of reciting an incantation. It was as if she was holding an immense blade made out of ray-like dark energy. The transcription read:
Lord of the Dreams that Terrify
Sword of Cold and Darkness
Free yourself from the heaven's bonds,
Become one with my power, one with my body
And let us walk the path of destruction together
Power that can smash even the souls of Gods
RAGNA BLADE
His heart skipped with delight. He smiled as he felt his spirit swell with a feeling of immense joy and complete admiration.
"Only SHE could cast a spell that powerful! She...whose name has become like music to my ears. She, the woman who has occupied my every thought and action from the first time I have heard of her..." He sighed.
"I will finally meet you! Your entitre life you have been waiting for one such as I. You are yet to discover it, but you have. We shall meet and I shall prove it to you..."
He couldn t stop thinking about her! It was like an echo in his mind. It rang like a distant bell.
Lina Inverse... Lina Inverse... Lina Inverse...
The next morning, the very same Lina Inverse had just finished her breakfast, which consisted of ten fried eggs, sixteen slices of bacon, twelve sausages, three loaves of bread with lots of butter and grape jam, one jar of orange juice, six cups of coffe, a bunch of almond cookies and one whole pecan pie. She patted her full stomach satisfied. AH! She just loved it when Gourry treated her to breakfast. She looked at the man sitting in her left, who still hadn't finished his own breakfast. He looked at her in return, and smiled a goofy smile with three half-eaten bacon slices hanging from his mouth.
"That sure was a great breakfast, wasn't it Gourry?"
"Fwure, Linaw" he said whilst munching his bacon "Youw fwure youw finish'd?"
"Yeah, yeah, I m full!" she said patting her stomach one more time "Thanks for buyin'!"
"You'rw weolfcom!"
She smiled and leaned against her chair, putting her feet up in the table. Her life was sort of OK right now... It had been two years since the incidents in Taforashia, and no other crazy dark lords had showed up ever since, trying to destroy the world and whatnot. Amelia had returned to her princessly duties in Seyruun, and Zelgadis was still searching for a cure. Pocota remained in Taforashia and Ceipheed only knew what Xelloss was up to - and Lina was kinda glad not to find out. She was travelling around with Gourry, taking odd jobs as a beast/dragon/mazoku/whatever-creature-that-might-harm-a-town-or-a-village slayer. She also raided and terrorized bandit camps just for the hell of it. The one thing she regretted is that she thought by now she would have become fairly wealthy. And yet, they were still kind of penniless.
"With a princess for a best friend, one would think I could have a bit more pocket weight..."
She then looked up at a young waitress standing by her side, timidly waiting to be noticed.
"Uhmm, miss? Could you please take your feet off the table?"
"BITE ME!"
The waitress ran away shivering. That was definitely the infamous Lina Inverse, the enemy of all who live.
"The nerve of some people, I'll tell you..." She then got back to her thoughts. Yes, Lina dreamed to be rich. To live in a big palace with many servants who would fan her all day long, and even act like chickens if she ordered them to. They would pour mountains of gold coins and precious gems into her bathtub while she drowned in riches and squirmed in pleasure from sitting in the lap of luxury... She quickly looked at Gourry, who was now leaning against his chair. "Errm... forget squirming in the lap of luxury..." Lina blushed, abandoning that line of thought. But it wasn t like she wanted to live the life of an adventurer for the rest of her life... was it? At one point she would stop. But then there was Gourry. Wouldn't he eventually get tired of travelling around with her? Didn't he have someone to get back to? His family... A girl... Did he really mean what he said that day, when he said he would always follow her? He was her bodyguard - though she had never actually needed one - and he was a dear friend. But was there... something... more?
errm...
Counting the tiles in the wall suddenly seemed a very interesting idea.
Anyways, they shouldn't be there much longer. Filia was coming to pick them up anytime now. Filia, the gold dragon they had met and travelled with during the Dark Star campaign, was now the proud owner of a "Vases & Maces" shop in the small town that Lina and Gourry were currently visiting. She was also a future stepmother, since Valgaav, the bitter mazoku/ancient-dragon who had nearly caused world destruction, had been reborn as an egg. Filia felt indebted to him, seeing as it was her race that had exterminated the ancient dragons. As an infant, he would have the chance to grow up in a family who loved and supported him, and hopefully wouldn't turn into a sociopath all over again. The egg, however, still hadn't hatched, and Filia performed her duties as a shop owner with the aid of her two business associates, Jillas and Gravos, who insisted on calling her "boss".
Lina saw a full head of blonde hair going through the door. She also heard the distinctive sound of silky fabric rustling against metal spikes. Oh, that was Filia alright.
"Gourry, let's get goin'!"
Amelia Wil Tesla Seyruun directed a puzzled look at the piece of parchment she held before her eyes. This was one of the most peculiar official correspondences she had ever received. First of all, it was not addressed to Prince Philionel, as it was the official rule, but to her. What reason would someone have to want to discuss important affairs of state with a nineteen year-old princess rather than with the Crown Prince? Then, it requested an audience with the Princess of Seyruun for a certain Davon Jaanos Caun, a nobleman apparently, but did not state the reason for the audience. How would someone expect to have an audience with a member of the royal family without stating his reasons for it? What if their intentions were not honorable? One HAD to state their official reason for requesting an audience (even if their real intentions were a completely different story)... it was customary practice! Finally, the parchment was marked with the official crest of the city-state of Cenive. Now, that was the oddest part! Cenive, one of the biggest independent city-states on the other side of the Desert of Destruction, was the last city one could imagine would want any relations with Seyruun whatsoever. It was a place of profitable trading by day and of... of... ahem... unorthodox activities at night. Now, the young princess of Seyruun was thoroughly convinced that it was unjust to judge people by appearances but what could a city known throughout the continent as "The City of Pleasure" possibly want with Seyruun, the white kingdom, peopled by priests, shrine maidens and white-magic users, where justice always prevailed? Amelia thought hard... Were they looking to trade their fabrics?... Their silver cutlery?... or perhaps their... worldwide famous glass vases? She sighed. Not likely.
Amelia got up from her chair and went to look for Prince Philionel. She hoped it was not another suitor trying to win her favors. She was getting tired of those pompous noblemen who came to her father bargaining for a convenient marriage. Amelia shuddered at the thought. She had already explained to her daddy that she would not want a political marriage because it would "greatly wrong the cause of true justice"! She would marry for love, of course, and so far daddy was content with that. Of course, the only potential suitor she was actually interested in was completely oblivious of... well, everything. But the external pressure had mounted somewhat since she had come of age so... you never knew.
Amelia found prince Philionel, as usual, in his office.
"Daddy, I have something to show... you?"
She had not expected to find her father accompanied. Seated in his office was a man Amelia had never seen in her life.
"Daughter, I m glad to see you! This gentleman here has just arrived from a long journey. He has already showed me his credentials. We have offered him food and a chamber, but he requests to speak to you immediately. Have you received note of his arrival?"
"No... I mean... yes... I just got this letter and..." she stopped, as the gentleman had stood up and turned to her.
He was a tall young man, no more than 24 or 25 years old. He wore tight red pants with black leather boots, a gold and crimson tunic with sleeves puffy in the shoulders, loose and long around the wrists, stretching down to his knees. The customary feathered hat was replaced by a puffy black toque - which was what noblemen wore more often in the other side of the continent. He had long and silky black hair that went down to his waist. His face was very handsome, but somewhat deviant. His dark eyes shone with fierce intensity. Taking off his headdress and bowing in deep reverence, he spoke.
"I hope Your Majesty will forgive my boldness in sending word so shortly before my arrival. I left Cenive a week ago, but it seems only now the official notice has reached your hands".
He stood up and pressed his right hand to his chest, in a slightly melodramatic manner.
"I am Daavon Jaanos Caun, second son of the Duke of Caun, and I have come before you to speak of a matter of utmost importance".
Amelia stretched her arm, and the gentleman's hands, covered by black velvet gloves, caressed her own tiny hand. As he kneeled before her and his lips brushed her bare skin, she felt a shiver run through her spine.
"What is it that you have come to discuss, Mister Davon?" she inquired with a tired smile.
"Oh please, Ceipheed, not another suitor..."
The passionate glint in his eyes was not a good sign... was it?
Ta-daaam! Watch out Gourry, here comes Davon! I didn't read the novels, so I am ignoring anything that happened in them. This story happens two years after Slayers Evolution-R. I think it is obvious that Cenive is the fantasy version of a real city... You can tell which one, right? I'm really excited about this story. It's going to be so much fun! Oh, the things I'm gonna do to you Lina... MWAHAHAHA! Please, R&R!
