The ownership of all characters related to and involving the novels of The Vampire Academy and Bloodlines Series remain the sole property of Richelle Mead, the Penguin Group and any affiliates.

No copyrights have been infringed on maliciously.

A/n: Thank you once again to EVERYONE who took the time to read the one-shots I've done so far and to review, favourite and follow. You make all the effort worth the while.

Okay, so By the Baring of my Soul is based from start to finish on the actual events in Shadow Kiss from Dimitri's POV.

The one-shots I've done so far have all revolved around a more futuristic Dimitri, with the exception of The Temptation of Touch and Prison Call Interuptus. They were pure fluff…and wishful thinking on my part, but with By the Baring of my Soul I will be sticking closely to how I actually interpret Dimitri's character during those events.

Enjoy the first chapter and if you think that I got anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me…constructively.

Cheers, T.

By the Baring of my Soul

~ Chapter One ~

Traversing the length of the mist-shrouded outer fields of Academy land that even at this hour was still more frozen than thawed, my studded trainers bit deeply into the frost-encased earth for traction; spitting up chips of ice in my running wake.

Hurdling nimbly over the exposed roots of an ancient oak encased in the ice of a Montana winter, my cross-country circuit looped widely around the lower half of the elementary campus as the pale sunlight of mid-morning filtered weakly through the occasional break in the heavy blanket of steel-grey clouds above.

Breathing harshly in the cold, dry air against the punishing pace I had set for myself since leaving guardian housing two hours before, I splashed icily through the puddles of mush littering the grounds and turned northwest towards the woods running adjacent to the borders of the property.

Ducking against the lower branches of leafless sycamores, spruce and snow-tipped pine trees, the dried, iced pine-cones blanketing the forest floor crunched loudly beneath me as I widened my loop further and ran along the invisible boundary of the wards

Pushing harder and faster as the thunder of my blood pounded heavily against my ear-drums, thought should have been impossible as I fought against my bodies protests to the strain it was under, but despite the distraction I was seeking, I couldn't completely purge my mind of the reason I was running in the first place.

Waking hours before my alarm was set; I had lain awake for long minutes afterwards, trying to reason with the restlessness that had swept over me and hoping somehow that I could manage to fall asleep again, but my hopes had been pointless.

The tension building within my bones was a feeling that I had become all too familiar with over the course of the last week, all courtesy of the official summons sitting on the desk in my room…a summons to testify against Victor Dashkov.

Tired, but knowing already from experience that it wasn't something that I could simply shake off, roll over and ignore, the alarm had been switched off and sleep had been traded for running gear in an attempt to rid myself of the edginess I had felt since receiving the injunction.

"So far, Dimitri," I grumbled to myself as I ducked yet again from a low-lying branch and sucked in a lungful of fresh, pine scented air. "It's not really working, is it?"

The writ had been expected, I had reasoned with myself on the day that it had been delivered by an official courier of the Court, but it was still an inconvenience.

Considering how large a part I had played in the capture of Victor Dashkov and would play as a key witness to what would hopefully be his eternal incarceration; I had already accepted that as my duty, it was to be carried out, but it couldn't have come at a worse time.

Field Experience for the senior novices were due to being this week and instead of being solely focused on that and the series of planned, mock attacks that would be spontaneously staged against them and the pre-selected Moroi students they had been paired with, we would have to fly to Court in rural Pennsylvania during its second week.

As only four academy guardians had been selected to testify, the six-week long exercise would continue on without us as the others picked up the slack created by our absence. We weren't essential to the process as the roster had already been drawn up, but taking any number of guardians away from the academy when everyone was already on edge wasn't settling any nerves.

We were already short-staffed and could ill-afford the unnecessary strain it would put on planning…something Alberta had already expressed her frustration over. She hated being away from the academy almost as much as I did, but she too, knew the weighty price of duty.

There wasn't much we could do about it.

Told that our testimonies would take no longer than a day or two at the most and that sentencing would be almost immediate, we had all been doubtful.

Having already heard rumours from those I was in contact with from within the prison system that our reigning monarch appeared to be dragging her feet regarding the imprisonment of a Royal of Victor's stature had done very little to reassure me that this obligatory trip would be short.

Personally, I had very little doubt that no matter how long proceedings took, she would imprison Victor; Royal or not. Tatiana Ivashkov was coldly impersonal and could be almost menacingly calculating when it came to the security of her throne, but she was a brilliant strategist who wasn't about to risk the monarchy through scandal and rumour.

If she was seen to favour one member of the aristocracy over another, it would not be looked upon kindly. She knew this and wouldn't risk the chance of sedition, no matter how it might look. There was also such overwhelming evidence against him that she would have very little choice in the matter.

As much as the trial was an inconvenience of bad timing and what would be at best, bureaucratic waffling, it wasn't really the due process that I knew I would find the most frustrating or the most difficult to bear…it was trying to figure out how I was going to tolerate being within touching distance of Victor Dashkov whilst having to control the impulse to wipe the blight that he was from the face of the earth.

Any time spent near him, no matter how short, would be almost intolerable…the thought of it was what kept me awake during the hours that I should have slept and created the insomnia that now drove me to run.

Even now just thinking about how close he would be or how easily my fingers could curl around the arch of his once frail neck that was now stronger for the life essence he had so callously stolen from Lissa, was enough to interrupt my gruelling rhythm and falter my stride.

Slowing to a jog, I tried to control the rioting motion of my lungs, but it was no use. Combined with the rage and loathing I felt for the man, the heaving expansion felt like it would crack apart my ribs from my sternum.

Exhaling roughly, the steam of my panting breath puffed out in white clouds as I stopped beneath a towering pine and fought for the control that I had forced on myself since early childhood, but it didn't come easily in the face of the memories that refused to remain buried.

Four months had passed since the capture of the disgraced Royal, yet it felt as though very little time had passed at all since he had so recklessly and cruelly endangered so many lives.

Lives of those that I cared for…and the life of the one that I loved.

As much as I hated what he had done to Lissa by prolonging the life of his disease-ravaged body through her Spirit and the malicious intent he had used when setting his psi-hounds on her and then ultimately Christian, it was what he had done to Rose that filled me with the most rage…a rage that was almost murderous in intent.

Sitting beside her helplessly as she had been trapped inescapably through the link of her tortured bond with Lissa as we drove to save her had been agonizing to watch. My primary concern, I had told myself, should have been Lissa's safety, but I had known even then as my heart had flinched and withered with every painful shriek Rose had screamed that it wasn't.

To compound matters, by setting the daughter he had willingly forced to turn Strigoi on her, he had almost accomplished what he had set out to, but what I had found the most difficult to stomach was his unnatural fascination with her.

I had seen it time and time again, but I hadn't been able to piece it together. I still couldn't entirely understand it; I only knew that it made me more anxious than any attempt he had ever made on her life.

Facing him in that court room I knew that I could have to keep my cool. Any weakness or error in judgement that Victor would see would be exploited by him in any way that he could…I just didn't know how I was going to calmly sit there when the need for retribution would be burning a hole in the pit of my stomach that I wouldn't be able to ignore.

It was a given that he would use the lust charm to discredit me as a witness and although the idea that I would have to perjure myself in order to protect Rose and the future that had only just begun revolted me to the core, it was only a very small price to pay in order to keep Rose and the others safely away from Victor Dashkov's malice.

It was why, despite my initial protests, I was now so relieved that none of the students had been called upon to testify.

When learning that only a few of the guardians had been required at Court, the reasons had been understandable but when I had learnt that the students involved wouldn't be, it had made no sense at all.

I could understand that the Queen wanted to avoid the already scandalous event from escalating and that having emotional teenagers testifying wouldn't help towards that goal, but to exclude any first-hand accounts of that night and the morning that had followed from those who had actually been there seemed stupid.

Arguing against it with Alberta, she had seemed equally baffled and exasperated by their exclusion, and had herself questioned it with the officials at Court, but they wouldn't be swayed. Trying myself with the limited connections I had within the system had proved just as fruitless, but in hindsight, it was probably for the best.

It was unfair, but for the best…I didn't want them anywhere near Court until after he had been sentenced and transferred.

Debating over whether or not to tell Rose of the subpoena at all, caution had eventually won out over the truth. If she found out that none of them had been included in the legal proceedings, the fit she would throw would be one of her more memorable.

She wouldn't be thinking of the trauma it would cause to Lissa, Christian…or even to herself, but of her need to seek justice. She would want to make sure that Victor paid for his crimes against the one person he should have protected.

Thinking about her now as I set off again on my route at a less gruelling pace wasn't helping to improve my mood…not when I had so rigidly set myself up to condition my mind and my heart against it. It made the tumult of emotions already bubbling so closely to the surface feel perilously close to spilling over as it made a mockery of how easily I was failing.

The distance I had ordered myself to put between us after the episode in the gym had worked for a time…so had the distraction of Natasha Ozera, but after the harrowing events in Spokane almost three weeks ago, it was failing as miserably as I was in trying to deny my feelings for Rose Hathaway.

Finding her huddled protectively over the cold, lifeless body of Mason Ashford was something that for as long as I lived, I would never forget, but aside from the brutal memory, it had put into sharp focus every impulse and emotion I had been fighting against…something that I had revealed days later in the gym storeroom.

We both knew the consequences of allowing sentiment to dictate over duty and the mistake that our weakness would prove to be; Mason's death was proof of that, but the abject terror I had felt in the moments before we had found her alive, but traumatized, had begun to bread down every defence I had so painstakingly built up against her.

The unguarded kiss that had followed had been an even bigger mistake…one that punished me constantly during the minutes that my eyes were close and I would remember, as with the lust charm, how soft, warm and sweet her lips were, how perfectly her lush curves fit against my harder, muscular angles, how tightly she had curled herself around me as though she couldn't bear any more than I could to have any space between us…

Shaking my head, I groaned quietly to myself at the memory…and the loss I could feel even now as we battled to stay away from each other.

We both knew that the only way forward was to maintain a strictly professional relationship, but knowing something and actually carrying through on it were two very different things, especially when it was beginning to war with everything we had ever been taught was wrong for us to want.

Since that moment, there hadn't been anything more than the occasional accidental touch or a brief flirtation during training, and although it should have pleased me that Rose was for once taking this as seriously as I was, I found that it was having the opposite effect.

Irritated with myself for the thought and realising that for the next six weeks it would be worse as normal training would be suspended to make way for the Field Experience, I tried to reason with myself that it was for the best that we would be busy and apart, but the actual thought of not spending time alone with her for the better part of a month-and-a-half was faintly depressing.

About to leave the pine-forest for a hot shower and the clarity that hopefully it would bring to my disordered thoughts, a disturbance in the icy soil to my right caught my eyes. A congregation point of some kind, I stopped to look over it more carefully but it didn't strike me as something to be concerned about.

Gatherings of any kind from within the protective boundary weren't worth a second thought as they were usually organized by guardians. It wasn't uncommon for them to use the area before official duty to designate points of patrol during watches along the wards.

The old guardian cabin where Tasha had stayed over Christmas was a little way to the left of it and was probably used just as frequently by them.

Setting off again, I crossed onto the upper campus and signalled in acknowledgment to Stephen and Emil as they patrolled the outer edges of the campus. Heading back up towards the main administration buildings, I checked the time as I jogged up the steps leading to the empty quad, but I had plenty of it before my own watch patrolling the upper campus began at noon.

Shrugging off the track-top as I walked through the quiet corridors of guardian housing; the change-room was empty as I walked to the shower. Stripping with brisk movements, I stood under the full spray of scalding hot water; rolling my neck as I hung my head and tried to clear my head of the last of my worries.

I had a task to perform that I couldn't shirk because of a future that I had very little control over but as the water cascaded through the sodden clumps of hair hanging over my face and parted to the sides of my neck, I stiffened my arms and flattened my palms against the tiled walls of the shower and wondered just how the hell I was supposed to do that.

Lingering for as long as I could under the rejuvenating flow as it slowly eased the tension from the rigid muscling along my shoulders and arms but did nothing for the state of my mind, I soapily scrubbed the sweat from my skin and turned off the water

Roughly towelling myself dry and wrapping the absorbent cloth around my lean hips, I raked my hair away from my face and grabbed the toiletry bag from my locker, moving the long mirror tacked to the wall over a series of plain porcelain basins.

Clearing a large swath of the steamed mirror with the palm of my hand, the reflection that looked back at me was anything but that of a self-possessed man unburdened by problems…or even that of an insecure one who reluctantly knew what he had to because had all the answers.

"Pull it together, Belikov. You know what you have to do…and you know what you have no right to want, so stop thinking about her." Muttering in Russian to myself beneath my breath, I shook the can of shaving cream and sprayed out a large, menthol-scented glob.

Spreading it along the length of my palms, I slathered it from cheekbone to chin on either side of my face and began to slide the razor through the frothy soap. Repeating the smooth motions until the stubble was removed from the arc of my jaw, the jut of my chin and the slant of my cheekbones.

Running my hand over the skin to check for any patches I might have missed, I washed the razor free of bristles and my face of any foam residue before combing through my hair and tying it back at the nape of my neck as the door of the change-room swung open.

"Dimitri, my boy."

"Hello, Dustin.

Walking slowly towards me as I faced him through the reflection of the partially steamed mirror, the older guardian yawned widely and shifted his towel over his shoulder as it started to slip. Coming off his watch, he looked more tired than I had ever seen him; the bags beneath his eyes heavy and darkly pronounced.

In his early fifties, the Swedish-born Dustin Johannsson had typically Nordic colouring of bright blue eyes and pale blonde hair, though it was now liberally threaded with grey and deep, grooving crows-feet bracketed his orbital bones; his accent all but obscured by his Americanization.

When first arriving at the academy, I had been under his supervision for my month-long assessment and had allowed myself to know him as much as I was willing to. Having an agreeable personality and a dry sense of humour, he was both approachable and no-nonsense and was one of the few guardians on campus that I would gladly make time for.

Peering into the mirror, I frowned as I found a few stubborn bristles the razor had missed, tilting my jaw upward to the light as I asked conversationally. "How was your watch?"

Shrugging tiredly, Dustin rolled and flexed his shoulders as he began to undress. "Pretty much the same as every other watch. Couple of the Royals trying to sneak out to do God knows what, one or two of them getting as far as the border of the pine forest in the northwest before they were caught and dragged back to their dorms, but other than that, uneventful."

"Who were the Royals?"

"I'll give you three guesses, but you're only going to need one."

"Jesse Zeklos and his minions." Asking for only the sake of asking, I already knew the answer to the dryly posed question.

"Yep. Zeklos, Ralf Sarcozy, a Badica and a few others."

Feeling my jaw tighten in a jealous memory at the mention of Jesse, I covered the involuntary reaction by picking up the razor again and swiping it over the few bristles I had found. It was stupid to feel that way, especially about a Royal Moroi who was barely out of puberty, but as I was still learning, my more primitive reactions around all things Rose were almost as unpredictable as they were uncontrollable.

"They say what they were up to?"

Pulling his ribbed jersey over his head, he cast me a sardonic look from beneath his bushy eyebrows that made me laugh.

"Zeklos acts like he's already sitting on the throne and doesn't feel that he should have to answer to, how did he put it? Lowly functionaries…which reminds me, this damned business with the summons from Court is going to be a pain in the ass."

As part of the original strike team that had stormed the cabin where Dashkov had held Lissa, Dustin was one of the four ordered to Court to testify against him; Alberta and Alan Gregorovich being the others. Having been stationed there when he had first arrived in the U.S., he knew their protocol better than most…and wasn't looking forward to returning.

Bluntly honest, he wasn't really built for the governmental pecking order.

Slinging off the towel, I reached for the dark brown corduroy's on the bench. "I know. The timing isn't exactly ideal, is it? You've been around Court proceedings before. How long do you think it will take? Alberta's been told it won't be more than a day or two, but none of us are holding our breath."

"That's probably a good thing. You'd be holding it for a while." Reaching into the nearest shower stall, Dustin turned the knobs until a heavy stream of hot water began to fill the cubicle and the surrounding air with thick, humid steam.

Already fearing that, I buttoned the pants as my frustration, lack of sleep and general irritability rose to the surface in a rant that was very rare for me...maybe a little of Rose was rubbing off on me. "We can't afford to be away from the academy for longer than two days…not now. Don't they understand that?!"

"The Queen only understands what she wants to, Dimitri…Monarch's don't answer to anyone but themselves and Tatiana Ivashkov is no exception." The clear disdain in Dustin's voice wasn't unexpected, but his verbalisation of it was. He knew as well as I did that unfavourable views of our Queen could be misconstrued as treason.

Treason charged to a guardian was a one-way trip…likely to the same place Dashkov would be heading to.

"I'll go find Alberta after I've showered and tell her to reshuffle the schedule to make way for extra days. God only knows that if the rumours swirling around Court have any truth to them, that bastard Dashkov could get off scott-free."

Buckling my belt, I sat on the bench and shoved my socked feet into my scruffy combat boots, but didn't voice my opinion about the rumours I had already heard. My influence was still developing amongst those in the seats of power. I wasn't about to rock the boat by letting on that I had more clout then they realised with those who actually ran things.

"Makes sense I suppose. They're in damage-control mode."

Watching the sidelong glance the older man sent me made me smile as I shrugged into my shirt and nimbly buttoned it before sliding into the thick woollen jumper slightly darker than the corduroys and the shirt. "I'm not saying I agree, it's just that logically, it makes sense to try and limit the damage he's already done to the monarchy. The system isn't fail proof and the Queen knows that."

Climbing into the stall with a weary groan, Dustin adjusted the temperature of the water and closed the glazed door behind him, almost shouting over the loud rush from the showerhead as it struck the tiles.

"Well, fail proof of not, that son-of-a-bitch Royal deserves to be locked up for the rest of his miserable life after what he did to those kids. It's only a pity it'll be Tarasov he gets thrown into."

"You don't think that Tarasov is hellish enough for Victor Dashkov?" I called back, slinging the duster over my shoulders and sliding my arms into the familiar comfort of the leather. Checking the time once more as I strapped my watch to my leanly muscles wrist, I folded back the sleeves of the jumper.

Billed as the worst of the worst, Tarasov would be rude awakening in comparison to the cushy conditions Victor was used to at the Court's detention facility. As much as I didn't want to be anywhere near him, it would be worth all the effort just to see that smug expression of his sour as he was lead to rot away in what was essential a concrete coffin.

"Son, I'm not sure that Hell is hellish enough for that man. Good luck with the Field Experience assignments later. I'll see you in the morning...oh, and if you see Alberta before I do, remind her about the reshuffle, will you?"

"Of course. Get some sleep…you look like you need it."

"I do. I'm getting too old for this job."

Collecting my bag, I pushed open my door a few minutes later and stowed my gear, deliberately avoiding my desk and the innocuous letter sitting on it. Leaving less than a minute after I arrived, I signed in at the duty roster and was out of guardian housing less than a minute after that.

Bracing myself against the icy howl of the wind as it swept relentlessly across the plains and valley, I tugged the collar of the duster higher up around my neck and ears to keep as much of the cold out, but the chill cut straight through the layers of thick corduroy and wool beneath it.

The heat from the shower seemed to leach from my skin faster than it had taken to warm it in the first place; the cold sinking into the very marrow of my bones whilst I shivered. Siberian-born or not, our bodies might have been better equipped than that of the Moroi to endure icier temperatures, but we weren't completely impervious to the frigid winter air of rural Montana.

Searching for the odd ray of sunshine peeking through the cover of cloud as my loop took me over the stone pathway between dormitories, I tried to absorb as much as the warmth as possible, but the beams of pale light were too weak to do anything more than create lighter patches against the gloom.

Digging my hands deeper into the leather pockets, I hunched my shoulders inwards as I scanned the wooded area to the east as it began to encroach on the deadened lawns closest to the dhampir dormitory and saw the shadowy figures of those also on patrol as they ventured further out towards the boundary and the wards in a criss-crossing pattern that would overlap.

Almost noon, the chance of any possible attack was slim at best, but after the events of the massacre near Billings late last year, the security within the academy had increased considerably. No one was willing to take a chance that the wards might be broken…not when we now knew that they could be.

Bad timing all around, I thought again, crossing the stone pathway that dissected the dorms for the novices and our own, intending to merely check in with the hall monitor to make sure everything was alright before I began my own patrol, but as with everything lately, I should have expected my intentions to be distracted.

Eyeing a window high to the right of the dhampir dormitory, the thick curtaining concealed the occupant of the room. An occupant who would be asleep at this time of the day, but that didn't stop my eyes from searching for any movement behind those curtains even when I knew that I shouldn't.

Even when I knew that I had to keep my distance…and had promised myself that I would, no matter how much it might cost me. The price I knew that it would cost me if I failed was higher than either of us could ever afford.

Pivoting smoothly on my heel, I turned away from the forbidden temptation that I knew would be my downfall if I allowed it and forced myself to focus on what the next week would bring in the way of the Field Experience, dodging puddles of icy-cold slush as they peppered the pathway.

I knew that the roster's had been set already – I had helped with it, but I had one last minute change that I felt strongly enough about to push for…one that was going to raise more than a few eyebrows amongst my colleagues.

Glancing at the glass foyer doors of the dhampir dorm lobby, the day monitor looked bored stiff and waved at me absently as I passed by in greeting. Nodding in reply that nothing was out of the ordinary, I rounded the corner between the dorm and the gym and stopped dead at the unmistakable sight that greeted me.

Huddling against the brickwork of the gym, Rose stood shivering with her back towards me as the icy wind buffeted against her and tossed around the tangled ribbons of her dark brown hair in a windblown mass.

Dressed in a white robe that looked thinner than her skin, slippers already darkly saturated from the unavoidable puddles and dark blue flannel pajama pants; I could almost hear her teeth chattering…or I would have, if she hadn't been muttering to herself.

Feeling an almost giddy rush of joy at the sight of her that I should never have allowed, the delight was almost immediately replaced by exasperated amusement. Approaching her silently from behind, I figured that I shouldn't really have been surprised to find her out here and not inside asleep after curfew.

Breaking the rules came as naturally to her as breathing did to everyone else. She had once told me after an argument between us had started because of the exact same rule she was now flouting, that she didn't break the rules…she simply bent them to suit her needs.

Watching now as she hunched her shoulders against the cold, I noticed that her breathing was erratic; her lungs working so harshly they seemed to jostle her entire torso. Frowning as the reason picked at my curiosity…and my concern, I took a step closer before asking quietly.

"Are you sleepwalking?"