Solomon's Confession
A/N: I like Solomon. I've always wondered what goes on in his head, and this is me expounding on those Gothic inner thoughts in a scene that would have been one of the most painful for him.
He approached her with a heart as heavy as any anchor, any wrecking ball, or any form of mass, in this Universe or another, hot, flaming, and yet frozen at the same time. It was the hardest thing he had ever done. Solomon looked at his beloved, Diva. She had changed a great deal, severed her beautiful raven hair, changed her flowing attire to that of an adolescent boy's, but all he saw was her. It's all he ever saw. Or used to.
She was there in the garden, frolicking as usual. A trait that belied her dark, murderous nature, all things he had found no love for, and yet came to accept, because he had no choice. But this time he had a choice. Throwing aside his duty had been no easy task for him, but one that was brought about on impulse. This euphoric and yet terrifying delight in taking your life into your own hands and doing what you wanted with it, regardless of the consequences—he thrived on it.
And there would be consequences.
She cast her sharp, icy gaze on him. Incredible how they were able to appear both homicidal and playful, those eyes. They stared back at him expectantly, knowing he had come for a reason. A reason she wouldn't like, and yet she showed not the slightest bit of discomfort. Maybe she didn't care at all. It wouldn't be hard to believe.
"Hello, Diva," he said. Even after all this time his voice was still full of love for her, only this time laced with the deepest regret. Just hearing his voice and looking into his eyes, she knew. And she smiled. She, along with everyone else, knew it was only a matter of time. There was proof enough in Nathan, that malicious spectator, who lounged in the distance, eyeing the scene with curious, amused eyes.
Amshel was not far off either, but then again, he never was where Diva was concerned. They all knew what was about to happen, what he would say, and they waited to hear it. No anxiety. No concern.
Some family.
Solomon eased into it. He told her of his first time meeting her. That pale, slender frame, naked, strung with those silky dark locks. Those bright blue eyes, glowing with a hunger not easily satiated. A beautiful monster.
He hated the time period in which he had been born. After everything had been taken from him, he cursed not only God, but every and any other God that had ever plagued the tongue of mortal men. Why could he not have been born in times of peace? That pain he had been in—he would have done anything to escape it. And when all else failed, Diva became his only answer. He accepted it.
He was one of her firsts, one of her favorites. Solomon had never claimed to be favored, or even put forth any extra effort to be favored as Karl did. Diva had her preferences, her own mind, and she held him higher than the rest. And he couldn't deny that he liked things that way.
As a chevalier, he had finally been set free. Or so he thought. No more did he have to succumb to the tortures of the human body. He was exempted from illness, deformities, and untimely death. Humans, those foolish foolish creatures, fighting their wars, killing their own kind, and he was expected to feel sorry for them?
Dear God, it was finally over. Having those tragedies become insignificant was the greatest relief he ever could have experienced.
How foolish he was, too. There's always a war, and this war in the word of chevalier was just as painful as any other, because it involved the clash of two of his most treasured loves. The insane, blood seeking beauty, Diva, and the gorgeous, human-hearted Saya.
Sweet Christ, Saya. How had he gone so long despising humans, glaring down on their species like ants, and yet came to love this woman so much because of those humanistic qualities? It was only until he met her that he realized how empty his life with Diva really was. Saya was everything he wanted in Diva, what he had been viciously deprived of.
When she smiled, it was a reflection of her soul, her spirit. When she got angry, it was because someone she loved had been wronged, hurt, insulted. Killed. That unshattering sense of loyalty, he adored in her. Her utter devotion to protecting her friends and loved ones-Jesus, what he wouldn't have given to be one of those loved ones.
It became an obsession. Much different from Karl's, who loved Saya only because he thought she was like him; friendless and unloved. Solomon loved her for the exact opposite. Because she was both of those things. It's what made her who she was.
Solomon had shared so many years with Diva, and yet he rarely understood what she was thinking. Being favored meant nothing. Those eyes, never changing. Always icy. Always full of devil's play. She hurt things, and enjoyed hurting them. Her only resolve in life was to adhere to her own desires, damn everyone else, including her own chevalier. Her children.
Often, after meeting Saya, Solmon wondered what it would have been like had he been born in Hagi's place. That lucky bastard.
Saya. Did she love him? Feelings he had never felt before raged inside of him at the thought. It was something he had never experienced with Diva. Diva had many chevalier. It was expected that she would feed and service all at her own discretion. Saya only had Hagi, and then Riku, her brother, whom Diva killed.
Hagi was special to her. Her only Chevalier.
Diva cradled a blue rose in her hand, plucking a delicate petal between her teeth. She spit it out, never taking her eyes off him. "It was big sister Saya who started the war," Diva said. "Not me."
"Yes, that may be true, but I cannot see her as our enemy." Diva hunched forward, spreading her arms out wide.
"She's trying to kill me!" she stated harshly. It was a fact.
Unable to meet her eyes, he looked to the ground. His heart pulsed without life. "Yes, I know that too."
Then she said it. She dropped her head, her arms, and in a menacing tone said, "You . . ." Solomon looked at her. "You're in love with Saya, aren't you?"
As if she hadn't already come to that conclusion. "I cannot deny my true feelings," he said. And he couldn't. Not anymore. Not of it was killing him inside. Not if it meant he could no longer protect Saya when she needed him. She needed him.
"Even if that means I get killed?" Diva said, skipping about. Such a carefree tone, yet those words cut through him mercilessly. He didn't say anything.
"Saya will never kill me," Diva said quietly, factually.
That's why she has me Solomon thought.
"I'd really like to live with her, but I think even more than that, I'd really like to . . ." She turned to him with a smile. ". . . kill her, Solomon. I want to kill my sister Saya."
I know he though miserably. In his fantasies, Saya had come to their house, to Diva's open arms and settled herself there. With her. With them. Like a real family. Amshel would have dropped to his knees in shock and delight having Saya join their side. Nathan would have regretted the cancellation of the show, but he might have been pleased as well. The only person who wouldn't have been happy was Karl, who wanted Saya only for himself. But he was dead.
Solomon wondered. Would he have taken his brother's place? He thought about it. Having Nathan and the others serving Saya, loving Saya, and protecting Saya, and he had to resist the urge to snarl. Hagi was bad enough, but he was hers from the start.
"Well, do whatever you like," Diva said affectionately. That gave him only a mild shock. He knew she would not want him anymore after this. If he did not wish to stay faithful to her, than she would give him the option to leave. No. Not an option. An order. She was telling him to go. Just like that, without the slightest morsel of regret.
God, it hurt.
She moved quickly, flashing in front of Amshel. She pressed herself to his wide chest, her back to him. "Starting today you are no longer my chevalier," she said. "You are Solomon, the chevalier who has strayed." No longer smiling, she whirled on him, her eyes fierce. "And let me tell you just one more thing. No matter how hard you try, Solomon, you'll never be Saya's chevalier."
That sensual, mocking smile returned as she stepped away. That beautiful smile. The smile that in this instance, he had come to loath. "But if you really want her," she said snarkly, "Than maybe you should take her and make her have your baby."
She left him with those words. A dark, heavy suggestion she had made. So tempting. He stared after her, all the emotion wiped clean from his face. That was something he had never considered before.
He wanted Saya. He wanted Saya more than he'd ever wanted anything, even the escape from war that lead him to become what he was. He could do it. The one thing he could do that Hagi would never be able to—give Saya a real family. Good God, a child. His precious baby, something that would bind them together for eternity, and with his own blood. A possibility that had been denied to him from the beginning.
Certainly, it was something to think about.