Corpse Bride
"She is the perfect prey..."
He watched her trudge through the desert sands, rapier securely in hand. He watched the heavy sandstorm winds blow over the bank, taking the long, waist-length turquoise tendrils flying off with the wind. She leant forward against it all, huddling close to herself. Her red attire rippled in the wind, proving to be a great hindrance in the wind's ferocious grip.
Valter watched her, almost lovingly, to the extent of pure insanity. She was the leader of his enemies, and he was almost just that for his own. (One step below.) She came up over the mountain, her innocent and soft sapphire eyes squinting amongst the proliferate rays of the blaring sun.
Then, Eirika spotted him: the enemy. Valter felt a sense of pride well up inside of him, the many foot soldiers around him practically nonexistent. Eirika was being a good little princess, and coming to her master. So he saw it. He removed himself from his wyvern mount, clasping his lance firmly in hand.
The walked to meet each other, his essence of darkness visible in the dark onyx of his eyes. His insanity clutched at his physical appearance, altering his once smoothed over look with demented, ill-treated facade. Rough scars adorned the pale, grey-colored flesh. Bags lined heavily beneath his eyes.
"The time is nigh, my dearest," Valter beckoned to her, his prey. Her eyes, narrow with a sudden and feverish anger, glaring so fiercely at him.
"Pardon?" Eirika spoke, trying to keep her regal patience and respect about herself. She was a princess, Princess of Renais no doubt. The man before her had unceremoniously destroyed the capital of said country---slaughtering her father in the process. There would be no reprieve. Her hands clutched at the handle of her rapier, mottling with the sudden force. She felt so insulted, disgusted.
The surrounding enemies of Eirika's watched, curious and afraid of their leader, the Moonstone.
The Moonstone laughed, a dark sadistic sound coming from deep in his twisted bosom. "As any valiant prey, you provided a wondrous hunt. My appetite has never been so whet." Eirika winced at his words, catching the twisted, ill-intent meaning behind it all.
"Come to me, my corpse bride!" Valter the Moonstone threw his arms in the air, carelessly twirling the handle of his lance around. Eirika felt her self abruptly tense, and with movements, she slid into the familiar stance of war. As innocent-minded and adverse to war, she knew that she would have to eradicate the sick man before her.
Never before in her entire life nor her war-life, had she ever felt such a great need to be off with someone's head...
OMFG... This so really sucks teh arse of a rabid monkey, it really does. Valter's sadistic persona in this isn't there very well. Eirika isn't all there, either. This takes place in roughly chapter fifteen when Valter dies. I still have yet to see what he would say to Eirika if he did end up facing her to the death, because he has a habit of killing people that aren't as strong as, say, Seth and Duessel.
Ergh. How melancholic... Oddly enough, this is probably the only thing that I support "cannon" pairings in. I adore Seth x Eirika, and of course, Valter x Eirika.
Reviews are nice, but not needed. -Smiles.-
Mad March Hare