Suikoden 2: Silver Seductions

by Spiritblade

- M-Rating, ONE-SHOT, AU - Jeanne is a beautiful immortal whose sinful allure is one that few men can resist. And there is nothing more perilous than thinking oneself immune to her charms, as Flik will soon learn. - Complete! -

1. Chapter 1

Suikoden 2:Silver Seductions

Written by Spiritblade

Disclaimer:This story was inspired by Ninja Gaijin's H-fanfic 'Irresistible', and is linked to my GSD side-story (i.e.: GSD – Lost Memories, Side Fiery Sword: Wandering Angel chapter). I give my salute to Ninja Gaijin for creating an excellent story. Also, Suikoden 2 and its characters do not belong to me. I am borrowing them.

And be forewarned: This story is an AU-original, one with which I have taken considerable liberties during the course of its creation. The story is not set in the magic-medieval age of Suikoden 2, but in the far future when humanity rules vast swathes of the galaxy and dares any alien to challenge its right to rule the galaxy. Also, do take note, this is an erotic story. I needed practice, and this is my fourth (fifth?) attempt at the genre, so please have mercy on me. Sharpening this particular sword is by no ways easy…

All right, on with the story!

(O)

Andromeda Beta planetary system third planet, Tigris

Territory of the Federated States of Ashan, vassal country of the Shogunate

Castle Seraph, Headquarters of the Apostle Army, December 3548 A.D.

Castle Seraph hovered over the third planet of Andromeda Beta's third planet of Tigris like a vigilant angel, the light of a thousand stars bringing into sharp focus the modifications and repairs done to the old Ramilies-class star-fort by the rebel army that had taken up residence in its halls. Once, over thirty years ago, Castle Seraph had stood as an integral part of Tigris's orbital defence network, its guns and fleet of defence monitors an obstacle to any invader, human or otherwise. But Jeanne, Rune-mistress of Betelgeuse and one of the Apostle Army's twelve Technique Masters, knew Castle Seraph by another name, and remembered the handsome, powerfully-built Shogunate officer who had once commanded one of the its feared Dragon Fleets before he was exiled by the very people he had fought so hard to protect. Destiny, Jeanne's mentor and predecessor had once told her, was – is – a frightening thing, a force that the Almighty could barely control and never master. It was there long before He had commanded Light to illuminate Creation, long before the idea of creating Creation was a seed in His mind. Destiny had seen to it that when the dream of a living, breathing, glorious Creation took root in the Almighty's mind, He would have the instruments in which to make it so.

27 Great Runes spun around the Almighty, each creating lesser versions that would, eons later, be wielded by the sons and daughters of His most beloved creation, before He spoke the words that would bring about the First Age of Creation. Each of the 27 Great Runes held in its symbolic symmetry a fundamental aspect of reality and incalculable power capable of splitting the Earth and the sky. But of all the 27 Great Runes, only the First Great Rune, the Rune of Beginning, would split in two. What had caused it to do so, no one save the Almighty knew. But what emerged from the separation were the Black Sword and the Bright Shield Runes. The first held the power to reduce mountains to rubble and crush entire armies, while the latter held the power to turn aside even the vast power of the Almighty and force Death to stay his hand.

In those twin runes was an idea made mighty by the same virtue that gave the Almighty His mandate to rule Creation. But, it was that same idea and virtue that would curse those who bore either Rune to a life of hardship and sorrow. How many have wielded the Black Sword and Bright Shield runes across the eons? How many have paid the price for the fulfilment of their dreams? Many, Jeanne knew, far too many to count.

Thirty years ago, the Bright Shield and Black Sword runes chose two friends to bear them. The first was the Shogunate General and commander of the 122nd Federated State Flotilla, Genkaku Hongo. The second was his friend, Han Cunningham, Champion of the Kingdom of Highland and Chapter Master of the White Wolves Knightly Order. Their masters swore fealty to the same Emperor, and have served him loyally on many occasions. But the long-standing feud between the Federated States of Ashan and Highland has caused the Dragon Emperor's Shin Angyo Onshi, the Secret Police of the Shogunate, and his ministers no end of grief. They have likened the two countries to two tigers living on the same mountain; neither would accept nor tolerate the presence of the other. Only in the face of a common enemy were the two countries willing to put aside their differences and work together, as was the case when the Orks chose an opportune time to attack when tensions between the Federated States and the Kingdom of Highland had escalated to a war. Jeanne remembered the devastation the Orks had caused, and the terrible suffering endured by the soldiers and citizens of both countries brought about because of the incapability of its leaders to wage a war (as was the case in the Federated States) or because its armies were stretched thin trying to stop a horde whose numbers far surpassed their own (as was the case with the Kingdom of Highland).

President Darell de Carleon, leader of the Federated States of Ashan and father of Annabelle de Carleon, was an excellent politician and lover, but he was no general. Had he relinquished military authority to one more capable, the Ork advance would never have made it as far into State territory as it had. If he had, Jeanne's opinion of him would have gone up several notches. But, Annabelle's father had been nothing if not vindictive and arrogant. He, like so many men and no few women in power, believed himself infallible. It was a mindset that almost saw to the Orks conquering Muse, the fourth planet of the Andromeda Alpha star-cluster and capital of the Federated States. Had Genkaku not disobeyed orders and returned to the planetary system, the planet would have fallen to the Orks.

The Aegis General, as Genkaku had been known then, brought his entire army – including his star-fort – to stop the Ork advance, leaving the State colony of Kyaro in the hands of a Highland admiral – an act that would later bring about his downfall. It had been a beautiful sight to behold. Over 200 ships of various classes and ten times as many Orbital Frames, LEVs and star-fighters had gated into the system, followed minutes later by the enormous star-fort as it emerged from the quantum rift that allowed it to travel from its original moorings above Tigris to Muse. The Orks knew the calibre of the human warlord who stood in their way; he was nothing like his master, whom they knew was cowering in a well-protected fortress somewhere on the planet (which was true, as Jeanne had been with Darell in said fortress when the Ork armada gated into the system). They knew that the one thing standing between them and victory was a man who would sooner cut his own throat than admit defeat. He was the kind of human the Orks made legends of. Taking him down would require monumental effort – and that was WITHOUT his friend, the Sword King of Highland, Han Cunningham, getting involved.

As Fate would have it, Han arrived minutes later at the head of a massive Highland armada at the rear of the Ork fleets. That was when Genkaku gave the order to attack, leading his army from the front and trapping the Orks between the hammer that was Han's forces and the anvil that was his. By the time the main Shogunate fleets had arrived, the war had already ended. The Orks – those that had survived Genkaku's trap – had retreated from the region, taking what booty and slaves they could secure.

What happened next reminded Jeanne why she had chosen to distance herself from the byzantine politics of nations and the ambitions of its rulers. She would watch a revered hero become a despised traitor, watch as those he had saved turn on him. She remembered Genkaku's expression as he strode towards the Highland ship that would carry him into exile. She remembered asking the exiled general why he had refused to draw his sword during his duel with Han; a duel that would decide whether the State colony of Kyaro, which Genkaku had left in the hands of a Highland admiral during the war against the Orks, would remain a dominion of the Federated States or become the Highland Kingdom's newest protectorate.

Genkaku was an intuitive man. He had sensed that she was more than human – and that she knew more about the 27 True Runes than those who spent lifetimes trying to uncover a truth that was as simple as it was complex. He had smiled, and told Jeanne that the fate bestowed upon the bearers of the Bright Shield and Black Sword runes was the one thing both he and Han were trying to avoid. For friends who were as close as brothers to raise arms against one another was an unforgivable crime. No, better to live in disgrace for doing the right thing than exalted in glory for doing evil, he had said before boarding the ship. It would take twenty years before the truth of the events that had led to Genkaku's expulsion from the Federated States became known.

By that time, it was far too late for the Federated States leaders and citizens to undo the wrong they had done to one of their own. And the fact that he had adopted two orphans – one boy and one girl – was the main reason why he had refused to return to the Federated States. Those two children would become the friends of a young noble of House Atreides who would often sneak off to watch them train, and who would be taken on trips to a densely-forested planet near to the colony to learn survival skills and the use of weapons.

But Fate refused to be thwarted. It desired the Rune of Beginning to be made whole, no matter the cost. Eons of conflict and sorrow between the two for the same dream had moved even the heartless, impartial force of Creation to action. Han and Genkaku had merely put off the confrontation by refusing to fight one another and sealing their runes, but their actions would doom two souls to do what they had been unable to. It was in the inferno of the Tenth Highland-State War that the Bright Shield Rune and Black Sword runes would clash for what may be the last time. The Dragon Emperor realized that the stars had commanded this war, and saw to it that the conflict between the Federated States and the Kingdom of Highland was contained in that region of space. The border fortresses and colonies of both countries soon came under the personal supervision of the Dragon Emperor's staff, even as the two vassal Shogunate states opened a Pandora's Box that all but unleashed the Four Horsemen onto the field.

Jeanne sighed. She had seen wars aplenty. The fact that she had participated in the Tenth Highland-State War would be but another footnote in her long life. The one thing that made it notable was that she was fighting under the boy Genkaku had adopted over a decade ago and who bore on his right hand the Bright Shield rune that his foster-father had borne over thirty years ago. Jeanne honestly liked the boy; he had the making of one who would be King. That made him a tasty morsel. But the rune-mistress was no fool. A good majority of the women in the Apostle Army knew of Jeanne's loose morals and made it clear that if she so much as looked at Shouren Hongo (or their husbands!) the wrong way, she would find herself thrown out the Castle's airlock.

The seductive, silver-haired rune-mistress giggled. The envy and possessiveness of said women was understandable. Shouren Hongo, son of Genkaku Hongo, was a prize catch. And which woman in her right mind would let such a man go without attempting to snare him or making sure the competition was knocked out of the game early on? Jeanne giggled: it would be fun to watch Shouren try to make a break for it, all the same. The boy was just as shy as Genkaku was when it came to women, but he would not have the luck of the latter when it came to getting away.

The silver-haired rune-mistress pulled her low-cut, scandalous robes back as she looked over her shoulder at her latest bed-mate who was hastily pulling his pants back on before the ship docked with the fortress. Her lips curved into a smirk, causing the young man behind her to redden. It would not do to be found by the small crew who accompanied him and the seductive rune-mistress to Tigris's capital of South Window to purchase much-needed medical supplies. He knew now why men had found Jeanne irresistible and why so many men had thrown caution and sense to the wind in order to earn her affections.

"You'd better hurry up, Kinnison," Jeanne said, her voice husky and melodious, "You wouldn't want to be caught with your pants down now, do you?"

X X X

Jeanne's ship, the Silver Destiny, was constructed in the shipyards of the Archangel Duchy at the behest of Prince Elrond over a century ago. It had been a gift to the seductive immortal who had not only guided him to his destiny, but who had also been his teacher in the arts of love. Should the ship need any repairs or upgrades, the Prince had told her prior to her departure, all she had to do was dock at any shipyard under his family's control, and it would be done. The Silver Destiny was not a big ship; it was half the size of the Corona -class frigates that patrolled the region around Castle Seraph but possessed twice the weaponry and was protected not only by void shields, but by potent holo-fields that would wreck havoc with the sensor and weapon systems of any ship Jeanne or her five-woman gynoid crew deemed hostile.

Ever since the capital of the Federated States fell to Highland, the Silver Destiny had fought in no less than twelve engagements against the Highland army, its speed and superior technology buying the remnants of the State Army time to regroup and retreat to Tigris. Its pulsar lances had crippled the flagship of General Kiba when the latter led his army to take the colonies of Two Rivers. The rune-mistress had disliked committing her ship to the battle, but she knew that standing aside was not an option. One does not give way to the evil; one confronted it.

Jeanne smiled and ran a hand over one of the wraith-bone statues that lined the corridor that led to the bridge of the Silver Destiny. She had crafted it two years ago, to honour a man whom she thought had died at the end of the First Crimson War. He had been the fiancé of the rebel leader who had led the led the Toran Liberation Army, Odessa Silverberg. The beautiful auburn-haired woman, once the general of the 125th Shogunate Dragon Fleet, had died trying to evacuate the inhabitants of a colony that the System Lord of the Scarlet Moon Grand Duchy, Emperor Barbarossa, had marked for destruction. That one act had been the spark that birthed an inferno. What had once been a localized insurrection quickly escalated into a regional conflict that forced the Dragon Emperor to send his armies into the region in an attempt to squelch it. Thousands died. Entire colony clusters were reduced to massive graveyards, and warriors who had once been allies in a hundred battles before the Liberation War (as it was called in the history books of the newly-christened Toran Republic) fought in vicious battles to the death. It was only after Odessa's lover approached the Dragon Emperor under a banner of truce – and at much personal risk – at the head of a Galactic Police and Shin Angyo Onshi delegation did the Royal Family of the Shogunate realize that the rebels of the Toran Liberation Army were justified in their rebellion. The atrocities committed by the System Lord of the Scarlet Moon Grand Duchy had caused the Dragon Emperor a great loss of face. The Dragon Emperor gave the Liberation Army representative his royal sword and his personal standard as a sign of his contrition and ordered his armies out of the Scarlet Moon Grand Duchy. Let Barbarossa, he had thundered, reap what he has sown.

It was a sad truth known to only the Toran Republic's highest echelons that the atrocities done by Barbarossa had been instigated by Windy, the Betelgeusian Technique Mistress who had been the aunt of the Liberation Army's supreme commander, Tir MacDohl. Using her considerable charms and intellect, she lodged herself in Barbarossa's heart and made him her puppet. She had desired the Soul Eater Rune – one of the 27 True Runes – that her nephew bore. With it, she thought, she could take revenge on those who had wronged her. Jeanne sighed and ran a hand down the statue's jaw. The fury and determination in its un-living eyes had been replaced by weariness, pain and regret in its living counterpart.

Why were mortals so weak? Why did they pursue that which they could never hope to gain or, in the case of the friend Jeanne had immortalized in stone, regain? Time and the Ashen King's scythe would undo all they had striven for and accomplished, whether good or evil. Few of them, if any, lived long enough to enjoy the fruits of their labours. Jeanne's hand slid down the statue's armoured chest to its hands, which clutched a well-crafted plasma sword similar to those wielded by the Knight Lords of Antares. A sword the beautiful rune-mistress had seen once before, over a thousand years ago, in the hands of the Solar Empire's first Sovereign. The weapon had been forged by the Master Artificers of the Archangel Duchy as a gift to celebrate the latter's ascension to the Solar Throne and was fashioned in the likeness of the Daiklave wielded by the winglies' fearsome War God. Over the many centuries and through the many masters that had wielded the royal sword of the Solar Emperor; rare indeed was the wielder that would give it a name not synonymous with the purpose for which it had been made.

The last she had heard of it, the sword had been wielded by one of the assassins of the Nanaya family to end the life of one of its own. The silver-haired rune-mistress shivered. The descendants of the beautiful True Ancestor Princess and her lover were the living, flesh-and-blood avatars of the Soul Eater Rune. Possessing powers and skills that defied rational explanation and illogical reason, the Nanaya clan was the one faction in all Creation the seductive immortal would stay far away from. The moment she stood in the presence of one, it would take much of their considerable will to rein in their instinctive desire to kill her.

Jeanne shook her head to clear her mind and whispered a prayer to the Creator Goddess. The Nanaya clan was not a pleasant topic to even think of. Thinking of how she was going to seduce the living counterpart of the statue before her was another matter entirely. She grinned. It would not be easy, she knew. The man was so straight up and down that he could have supported the walls of the Shogunate Imperial Palace just by taking the place of one of its pillars. A man whose vices were few and far between and who the rune-mistress was certain had yet to drink deep from the chalice of passion. A good man who held dear in his heart and memory a woman – one Jeanne admired for her courage and compassion – who would never walk under the stars of Ashenvale ever again.

It was an irresistible challenge. Seducing Flik, the Lightning Knight of the Apostle Army, and teaching him the pleasures of the flesh – and breaking the hold that the ghost of Odessa Silverberg had on him – sent a shiver up her spine. She had seen the way he had looked at her and some of the women in Seraph Castle, the pent-up lust and desire turning his dark green eyes almost obsidian. Oh, there was a raging fury in the Lightning Knight that excited her, that she wanted turned on her. The thought of his thick, hungry seed ravishing her womb, of him subduing her to his will, breaking her and burning her in the crucible of lust and yearning, made the rune-mistress tremble and caused her hand to tighten around her ornate, jade staff.

Fate had seen that the sword once wielded by the Solar Empire's first Emperor would end up in the hand of a low-born Knight Errant of Antares many centuries later, one she would meet in the First Crimson War and who went missing in the days after it ended. Now, destiny would deliver him into her waiting arms – and this time, he would not be able to escape. Jeanne would not allow it. She kissed two fingers and pressed them against the statue's lips.

X X X

Flik was relieved that the mission to the Matilda Knightdom had gone as well as it had. He had half-expected the Apostle Army's young leader to have lost his temper in the aftermath of the massacre perpetrated by Luca Blight and the refusal of the Knightdom's ruler, Gorudo, to aid the Federated States – and the refugees fleeing the territories annexed by Highland days ago – in its greatest time of need. The fury in the young man's eyes had been staggering, but the disgust displayed by seven Chapter Masters of the Knightdom's Circle of Twenty was even more so.

In that one instant, the Knightdom lost over forty thousand men and women and over two hundred starships to the Apostle Army – easily almost a third of the Knightdom's armed forces. Gorudo had been furious, but could do nothing without alienating the rest of his generals. When Shu got word of the split within the Matilda Knightdom's armed forces, he knew it was only a matter of time before Highland did and took action. He wanted to deploy the Knights to the main theatre of war as soon as possible – something that could be done only after the logistics of housing, feeding an arming a forty thousand-strong army was done.

And as much as Apple and Shu wanted it otherwise, it was not something that could be done in one night. The brown-haired Antarian sighed. The doors to the tap-cafe hissed open, revealing its crowded interiors. One of Leona's waitresses, a pretty young girl of 19 years of age and a survivor of the siege of Muse, saw him and raised a hand in greeting, "Welcome back, Captain Flik!"

"Oh, hello Maria," Flik smiled, "I'll have my regular, thanks. And…" he looked at the menu display next to him, "and some sandwiches if you have any left. I'll be at my regular seat."

"Okay!"

Flik took his regular seat in the nearby alcove on the other end of the tap-cafe that would allow him his privacy and a view of its customers, most of whom he knew by name and had fought alongside. Normally, Viktor would be with him, but the big man had been sent to the planet below by Shu to handle matters with Tigris's planetary government. And knowing Viktor, he would be visiting the red-light district after he was done. Viktor had invited him, but the brown-haired Knight had turned his friend down. He was tired. And when he was tired, bad memories had a tendency to drag themselves out of the shallow graves from which they were buried.

Memories that took the shape of a beautiful, auburn-haired woman Flik had loved and watched die in the bloodiest days of the First Crimson War. He had blamed Tir MacDohl, son of Emperor Barbarossa's most trusted general, Teo MacDohl, for her death. The fact that Odessa had chosen to give the reins of leadership of the Toran Liberation Army to the son of its greatest enemy had been more than Flik could bear. It had taken him more than a year and the deaths of over three thousand warriors before he accepted Viktor's counsel and swore fealty to the young man who had won more battles against the Scarlet Moon Empire in one year than Flik's raiders could do on their own in ten.

The pain and anguish that Flik saw in Shouren, the young leader of the Apostle Army, he had seen mirrored in the eyes of Tir MacDohl two years ago. It was the pain of knowing that the enemy you are fighting against was one you knew by name and who had once sat across you as a friend, who guarded your back like a brother or who raised you high to the sky on the day you were born. Tir MacDohl found himself fighting against his father, a man regarded by half the Shogunate as one of the few generals who was deserving of the title of Supreme Shogun. The battles between the two had been vicious, and thousands had died as father and son waged a war that soon reduced an entire region of space into a ghost-haunted graveyard. Emperor Barbarossa was even rumoured to have said privately to his mistress, the Betelgeusian witch Windy, and his advisors that the staggering animosity between father and son made him regret not pursuing the diplomatic option with the leaders of the Toran Liberation Army.

The Second Crimson War would be a re-enactment of that nightmare. The only difference was that there would be no bargaining with the Kingdom of Highland; its Crown Prince was determined to destroy the Federated States once and for all and put all its citizens to the sword. Jowy Atreides and Shouren Hongo, two childhood friends as close as brothers, were now locked in a bitter struggle which could only end in one way.

'Do the True Runes curse those whom they choose as their bearers?' Flik pulled the gauntlets off his hands and put them on the table. On the back of his right hand was a Lightning rune, the thunderbolt sigil on it glowing crimson instead of blue, as if condemning him for the sins he had committed and would commit. The rune had once belonged to Odessa. Flik had instructed one of the Betelgeusian rune-masters within the Toran Liberation Army to transfer Odessa's Lightning Rune to him, an act that somehow corrupted it. Rather than the pristine, silver-white bolt of the element regarded as the Sword of God, the lightning that Flik unleashed was black on crimson, laden with malice and wrath – a demonic blade that could tear open reality and sunder Creation. He remembered what a Chaplain of one of the Kingdom of Antares's Knight Errant companies had told him: 'You have sinned, Flik of Antares, sinned greatly. The first time was when you foreswore your oath to both King and country. The second was when you accepted the tainted blessings of the Betelgeusian witches without the sanctification of the Cardinals of the Church. The first two crimes alone would have given you Chapter Master the sanction he needed to excommunicate you and have you hunted down like the heretic you are. Your third sin is your most damning crime. You wished to abandon your faith and wed into one of the pagan clans of Betelgeuse.'

Flik's jaw tightened at the memory of the Chaplain's words. How could loving a woman like Odessa be a sin? How was choosing a better life outside of one bound in service to one's lord selfish when said lord was worse? The Chapter Master of the Knightly Order Flik had been part of had been a lecherous and corrupt individual, more concerned with his standing in the royal court than the men and women under his command who fought and died to defend the Kingdom from its many enemies. Flik turned to look at the defaced hurricane-and-talon sigil on his gauntlets – the symbol of the Astral Claws Knightly Order – and the spear and sun-burst symbol that was the sigil of the cadre the brown-haired Knight had been part of.

To look at his cadre sigil was to remember another nightmare – one that had haunted Flik for a decade. He had never told Odessa that he was one of the few who had survived the Eskellon Massacre. Eskellon had been an agricultural colony-cluster; its defences were limited to a dozen defence satellites, two orbital docks, five battlecruisers – one of which had been converted into a carrier - and two squadrons of defence monitors. The colony itself was defended by laser and mass driver cannons as well as a garrison of forty thousand. Of these, only a third – including the small company of Astral Claws Knights – had been professional soldiers. The rest were citizen militia, who served as regulars in Eskellon's CDF (1) for three years after their 18th birthday and who served a month out of every twelve after their official discharge from its ranks.

It had taken the Marduke Purgation Fleet less than a week to destroy the defences and ten days to crush its defenders and murder the citizens of Eskellon. Flik had escaped death only because he had been among the delegation sent to the Astral Claws Chapter Fortress to request aid when it became clear that the colony's defences were not up to the task of defeating the aliens. The disdainful look – and the dismissive manner – in which Flik's Chapter Master had regarded him and the Eskellon delegation had been the final nail in the coffin.

'Are you telling me that the defences at Eskellon are insufficient, Sir Flik? I doubt it. I have put a squadron of battle-cruisers there, upgraded its defences and expanded its army – all at great personal cost. And you're telling me it is not enough?'

"It was not enough…" Flik whispered to the ghosts of those he had failed to protect.

"What was not enough, Sir Flik?" a melodious voice broke the Lightning Knight out of his train of thought.

The brown-haired Antarian looked up to see a familiar face clad in an ensemble that would not have looked out of place in a high-class brothel on Tigris. It revealed a lush, strong body, one that would have driven even the most virtuous to drink deeply of sin and relish the taste of freedom. Light green eyes, many shades lighted than Flik's, regarded him with a wisdom that had seen the passing of centuries and all the foibles and strengths of the human race. Hands that have wielded power beyond the dreams of the Librarian Masters of the Knightly Orders and the Battle-mages of the Antarian Royal Army were adorned with jewel-inlaid armlets and rune-engraved bangles, all of which bespoke of the woman's high rank within Betelgeuse's Sorceress Council.

Flik knew the woman who stood next to him. She had many names, all of which bespoke of her incredible beauty and her wealth of experience in the arts of love and magic. Intelligent yet flighty, kind and enigmatic, sinful yet chaste, Jeanne of Betelgeuse was a contradiction – and a mystery – men would sell their souls to unravel and understand. But Flik knew that to know Jeanne was impossible. There was something to her that defied logic and understanding.

And one does not delve into secrets a friend kept. That would be rude.

'Not,' his mind whispered treacherously, 'that manners would keep the Seductive Angel from unearthing yours…'

"Jeanne," Flik coughed, trying to hide the redness in his cheeks, "What are you doing here?"

The silver-haired enchantress giggled, "Looking for you, actually. What? Is it wrong for two old friends to get together? It's been a while since we had a chat, Flik."

A part of Flik told him to get away from this beautiful predator as soon as was humanly possible without offending her. He was about to mouth an excuse, but Maria's return with his order quickly killed any hope of a swift escape. The smirk that curved Jeanne's lips told the brown-haired knight that she knew of his attempt to escape, as well as his reason for doing so. The fearless Lightning Knight was afraid of her. It was not the fear borne of the knowledge that she could defeat him in battle that made him want to flee, but that she was a threat to the morals that was a fundamental part of his self-identity.

It pleased Jeanne to know that she could affect the unflappable Flik as she did all the men that crossed her path. She turned to the waitress behind her, "Maria, dear. A bottle of Betelgeusian wine, if you would…" and paused briefly, "And two glasses. Flik and I have much to talk about."

Flik could almost hear Satan laughing.

X X X

Jeanne strode up the road that led to the building that served as both her shop and her domicile on Castle Seraph, a quiet melody spilling from her lips. The conversation with Flik had gone well. Though uncomfortable at first, the latter had gradually opened up and revealed what he had been doing in the past two years. He and Viktor had found employment in the army of the Federated States and had been given command of one of the smaller Nova-class star-forts in the region close to the Highland border. The fact that Viktor had known Annabelle, the daughter of the late President Darell de Carleon, might have had something to do with their immediate appointment to garrison commanders, the brown-haired Knight had added with a wry smile.

The silver-haired rune-mistress knew all too well why Annabelle de Carleon was drawn to Viktor. The big man's boyish charm and roguish behavior made him immensely popular amongst the men he led, the women who adored him and the children who worshipped him. The dark-haired man had a heart as big as the Kingdom of Antares and a sense of humor an Ork would appreciate. Viktor represented the heart and drive to live life to its fullest.

And he was a passionate lover. His sheer endurance would put an Ork's to shame. Jeanne would willingly put money on the wager that Viktor could drive a female Ctarl-Ctarl into her grave long before his stamina gave out. And speaking of the fiercely proud and beautiful Lycans, here came one, no doubt looking for her intended mate: Nina Edelweiss (2). A senior in the Greenhill Academy and a member of its Emerald Valkyrie Brigade, the wolf-eared brunette was wearing her school uniform and robes. The young Ctarl-Ctarl had met Flik when the latter, along with the Apostle Army's leader and a handpicked group of his companions, infiltrated the Academy on a mission to find the missing Theresa Wisemail, the Headmistress of the Academy and the elected State governor of the colony-cluster. Much to Flik's chagrin, Nina had fallen for him at first sight and had followed him to Castle Seraph, hell-bent on ensuring that no other woman sank her claws into her mate before she did.

The silver-haired rune-mistress remembered what Viktor had told her, and could not help but agree. Flik's days as a bachelor are numbered. Female Ctarl-Ctarl were known for their doggedness when it came to securing their mates and expanding their brood. And Nina's tenacity was exceptional. It was only a matter of time before the Lightning Knight held his firstborn in his arms. The fact that Nina was physically attractive and well-endowed did much to pave the road to that particular conclusion.

'Take a number and stand in line, little girl. Your man is mine…' she smirked.

"Miss Jeanne, have you seen Sir Flik? He's not in his room…" the girl's long, furry tail swayed from side to side in worry.

"He's in the tavern, Miss Nina."

"Thanks!" the girl walked towards the building.

"But I would advice leaving him alone for now…" the rune-mistress added.

The female Ctarl-Ctarl stopped, "Why?"

Jeanne turned her eyes to the sea of stars that shone beyond the protective armored glass that covered the entire district, remembering what Flik had shared with her, "Because tonight is the night he honors the woman he would have married if she had not died in the First Crimson War."

Nina's eyes widened, "What?! He…"

"Yes, Nina, he did. And I think it is time you learnt more about the man you have chosen to be your mate," Jeanne replied, her playful tone and words dispelling the bleak atmosphere in an instant, "Come with me. Some things are best shared sub-rosa and over a drink."

X X X

"Hello, Flik. How are your wounds?" Jeanne looked up to see Flik walking towards her. The brown-haired Antarian Knight's movements were stiff, bespeaking of injuries that had yet to heal. The last time the rune-mistress and the Knight had shared a drink had been the night prior to the ambush that had led to the death of Highland's Crown Prince – and that had been four days ago.

Jeanne shivered at the memory of the battle. Luca Blight had been a monster, the likes of which was born once every ten generations. It had taken every trick the master strategist of the Apostle Army had to isolate the Crown Prince of Highland and destroy him. But the price of doing so had been high: over a thousand lives had been lost and over three dozen ships sunk by the hand of the Prince alone. The young leader of the Apostle Army and those he had chosen as part of the group tasked to killing the Mad Prince of Highland were badly injured in the battle.

But it had been worth it. With the death of Luca Blight, an armistice between Highland and the Federated States was possible. Now, all that remained was for Shu and the rest to work out the details of the peace treaty and who to send to meet the Highland delegation. As it was, much of the Apostle Army was out in the streets of Castle Seraph's recreational districts or down on Tigris, celebrating an impossible victory – one they had rightfully earned.

"I'm fine," Flik said as he settled himself on the chair, "As is Nina. I'll never look at that silly girl the same way again. Damn it, three straight shots from Luca Blight's bloody force-blade and she still refused to go down! Not even Viktor could take that without seeing stars."

"That girl loves you, Flik," Jeanne poured Flik a glass of wine, "Nothing wrong with wanting to protect the one you love. Just because you failed once with Odessa does not mean you will fail with Nina."

"Viktor said the same thing," Flik said a minute later after downing it.

"Oh…? The Bear is smarter than I gave him credit for…" the rune-mistress smirked.

"And he said…" Flik hesitated, turning to look at the celebrating soldiers within the tap-café, "He told me that I should be careful of you."

Jeanne laughed inwardly, 'Oh, trying to save him now, are you, Viktor?'

The rune-mistress leaned forward, allowing the brown-haired Knight to see her cleavage and the lithe body that has tempted King and Cardinal alike, "Do you think I'm dangerous, Flik?"

It took a long time for Flik to answer, "…yes."

Jeanne stood up and moved to Flik's side, the grace and the speed with which she had moved catching the latter by surprise. Poetry and words failed to capture the elegance in which the Seductive Angel had shown. No martial artist or dancer born in Creation would ever be able to compare to the silver-haired immortal that now stood poised to devour the mortal she had lured into her trap. Ah, the purity was his soul, the strength of his convictions and the raging hunger that threatened to taint the first and break the chains of the second…it was a beautiful thing to see. Jeanne grinned at the shocked look on her companion's face before wrapping her arms around him and pulling him to her. The sheer sensation of being held close to the lush body of the silver-haired rune-mistress all but caused Flik's thought processes to short-circuit and his heart-rate to skyrocket.

"Jeanne, what…?" Flik's perplexed voice was cut off when Jeanne kissed him. It was not a tender, chaste kiss, but one fierce and possessive. One, Jeanne's perverse side noted with glee, that the man in her arms was slowly returning. His callused hands touched her bare skin, the contact alone making her shiver with the promise of what was to come.

'You are already mine…'

X X X

Viktor watched what was taking place from a quiet corner, a big grin on his face as he exchanged a knowing look with Leona. The dark-haired proprietor of the tap-café, Leona's Tower, was looking at the extremely public display of affection with a shocked look before turning back to the big man who had his hand out.

"I win. Now pay up, girl," the big mercenary said.

Leona glared at him, the grin on Viktor's face making the dark-haired woman reach for the shock maul she kept under the counter for her rowdier customers, "Not yet. Flik…"

"Is done for," Viktor finished, "Leona, this is the Jeanne we're talking about, not some high-class courtesan from Lord Tyraneth's escort agency. She can make a mountain move just by asking it to. If the woman in our bet had been Nina or Valeria, I would have held off collecting my winnings until I had proof that they had done the mambo. But not with Jeanne; with her, it's not a matter of if, but when."

Leona made a displeased sound, "And what do you think Nina will do when she finds out? Or Valeria, for that matter…?"

Viktor chuckled, "Leona, Leona. Didn't you hear what I said earlier? Flik is doomed. He would need God's personal intervention to get his neck out of the noose he has shoved it into. Though I would seriously doubt He would want to intervene in what is about to happen…"

"I think you'll be the one needing it if Nina, Valeria or Oulan find out what you've done behind their backs, Viktor," the woman replied as she watched the smirking rune-mistress leave a shell-shocked Flik trying to understand what had just taken place.

To be concluded…

Author's annotations

Whew! Writing this story was a harder than I thought. I doubt that this is going to be up to the same level (and temperature) as my WarCraft 3 fanfic, 'Stars under Ashenvale', but I will do my best. Tell me, did I portray the characters in this story (i.e.: Flik, Nina and Jeanne) well, despite my tinkering with them?

Chapter 2 will be up ASAP. Also, do tell me how this first chapter went. It would help greatly to know if I somehow did it right (or shot my own sorry backside) in my making it.

1) CDF – Colony Defence Force.

2) Yes, in this story, Nina (or Nina Edelweiss, as I named her) is a Ctarl-Ctarl and is slightly older than her original persona. I was inspired particularly by a cosplayer who dressed up (or who was severely lacking in it) as Horo from 'Spice and Wolf'. She radiated a primal, strong beauty that gave Horo her whimsical, playful, earthly personality. Though I do not know your name, girl, I will tell you that you have done well.