Me:Okay this is my first fic. Be gentle with the reviews! Please I bruise easily. No wait never mind, I don't care. If you flame, prepare to get charcoaled! Okay Siegfried, since you won't be in this chapter, at least do the disclaimer you bum!

Siegfried: Alastor does not own Soul Blade or Soul Calibur. I wouldn't mind owning Ivy in bed though!

Me: …You pervert! It might happen though -ahems- Anyway! Start the Fic!

It was the late sixteenth century and once more mankind was at war. The oppressed peasants of Germany were revolting against the Holy Roman Empire. Weakened by the Italian wars, Germany finally stood a chance. That is why Sir Frederick Schtauffen could not abandon his country in its time of need. He could not return to his beloved Margaret. As a brave knight it was his duty to defend his homeland, even if it meant leaving her behind. It hurt every time he thought of her, and that disappointed and defeated look in her eyes when he left. Nevertheless it was his job to brighten the future for the future generations. He had joined in this battle almost a year ago, and was only one month away from returning to home. The mere thought of home filled him with warmth even in the harsh German winter. It was for that home that he would sacrifice everything if need be.

Before him, stood yet another of the countless forts he was to take. As commander it was also his duty to take the fort and leave no prisoners. He frowned at this thought. He disliked killing to an extreme extent, even still it was necessary in order to revolt from the Holy Roman Empire. Raising his 6 foot sword high, he signaled for the strike to commence. Almost immediately, cannons began to barrage the stony walls of the fort, hidden in the brush of forest surrounding it. It wasn't long before the Romans dispatched troops to fend off the invaders; this however was a fatal mistake. As soon as they would leave the heavy wooden doors, German soldiers would massacre them with various weapons. In a matter of minutes they had created giant gaps in the once impenetrable wall.

He signaled for his men to storm the fort, and storm they did. Romans were slaughtered mercilessly. The walls which had once protected them now served as a cage to keep them from escaping. They never stood a chance against the force Frederick was leading and slaughtered all within the span of 30 minutes. Frederick followed his soldiers into battle and mopped up any survivors on his own. As he brutally cut down enemy after enemy with his unbelievably huge sword, his mind was racked with guilt, which he justified with the excuse of his country. Yet no matter what he still felt as if this was somehow wrong. Finally he came upon a lone warrior clad in bronze armor.

They stood at the edge of a cliff, and above lightning began to storm and the heavens bled black, turning the clouds into a haunting mixture of gray and dark. In the distance, the mighty roll of thunder was heard. Not soon after, the winds would pick up with a savage ferocity. Frederick's short dark locks began to blow into the wind as he stared into the warrior's back, which was adorned with a crimson cape. From this point, no words were spoken, they were simply unneeded. As the unknown warrior turned around, Frederick's heart beat began to quicken. His pulse raced as his mind kicked into the overdrive. It was not fear that gripped him; it was simply a heightened sense of awareness. In this moment, nothing else mattered. There was no war, there was no Margaret, and there was no home. There was only here and now.

Frederick charged forward with speed thought impossible with such a large weapon. The warrior swiftly turned bringing up a heavy broadsword to defend from the oncoming assault. The result was the long loud screech of steel scraping against steel as Frederick locked strength with this Roman dog. Swiftly rolling to the side, he was able to get just outside of range from any counter attack mounted against him, and sure enough the warrior's foot kicked out and stopped short inches from his face. Swiftly, Frederick rose, deflecting the oncoming blade with his own as he did so. He punched the warrior's concealed face with his gloved hand, which sent him plunging over the side of the cliff with a dent in the facial part of his helmet.

Frederick sighed as he turned around to rejoin his men. He walked for a good number of uncounted minutes before he came upon the tents they had set up. To his surprise they were fighting again, it seemed as if the fortress was a giant feint. While he was off fighting some random guy, his forces were being dominated by the enemy. He growled lowly as his blood began to boil. How could he have been so foolish? 'Damn' He cursed himself slowly as he strode up to the fight and eventually joined in the fray. Swinging his blade with controlled, powerful strikes, he was able to cut down a significant number of Romans on his own. After what seemed like forever in random frenzied fighting it seemed as if the German forces had regrouped. The Romans were unable to find a decent foothold and even with their superior numbers, were easily defeated once Frederick arrived.

Hours had passed since they decimated the Roman forces Having regrouped his forces, Frederick would have began his march back to the German encampment, but the rain had started pouring heavily in buckets and they were now residing in tents they had set up during the downpour. Thoroughly soaked and irritated Frederick unrolled some blankets and proceeded to lie down. Only one more month of this and he would be back home. With a discontent sigh and a heavy heart, he turned on his side. He was going to need rest for later.

One month came and went quickly, although in Frederick's opinion it wasn't quickly enough. He was allowed to return home now, for his service was over and he was excited to get back home. He was unable to write Margaret due to his constant traveling. It had been nine months since he last saw her and hoped she hadn't moved on. "Who am I kidding? A woman as beautiful as that…" He grimaced at the thought and then suddenly felt unsure of himself. What was he to say when he reunited with her? He sighed once more, stressed as he usually was since he left her side to fight in the rebellion. For now he would head back to the house where his parents once lived, and where he spent the greater part of his youth growing up.

As he walked through the streets of Ober-Getzenberg, something shiny caught his eye. He turned his attention to a small souvenir shop to see a familiar woman with long blonde hair. His eyes widened for a moment before a soft smirk appeared on his face. She was bent over looking through a basket filled with items of some sort; he didn't really pay that much attention to it. He walked over and put his arms around the woman waist and whispered into her ear.

"Hey Margaret, long time no see." He whispered into her ear softly. Her next actions shocked him.

"YOU!" She practically screamed, then twirled around to deliver a rough hook to Frederick's nose, leaving him sprawled out on the ground. He grimaced before shakily rising to his feet.

"What was that for!?" He bellowed, those dark green eyes flaring up with passion.

"You ass! You got me pregnant!" She roared back at him, leaving him shocked and speechless. He mumbled an apology as she glared daggers into him. "You're lucky you made it back in time before the baby were born or it would have been a LOT more than just a punch in the face!" She threatened causing him to shrink before her. 'It's funny I can take part in a rebellion and experience the horrors of war and death yet, I cower before an angry pregnant woman.' Frederick sighed then walked over and hugged the fuming woman who was still rambling on and on about severed genitals and slow agonizing deaths, even though he had to work up a hell of a lot of courage to do it.

Author's Note: Hmm… This chapter isn't as long as I would like it to be, nor does it really have the rhythm I want it to, but whatever. I've been saying I would start a fic sooner or later. I just figured now was the time. This is my first one so be gentle!