Blaaargh. So, in case some of you were wondering where I went for the past few weeks, I got kicked out of the house for getting into an actual physical confrontation with my stepfather and I went through a very bad time trying to find a place to live, keep my job, not get mugged as I lived semi-homeless, etc. Things are sort of back to normal now, but I'm still on thin ice in regards to living conditions. I'm going to try and keep up with my fanfictions (I had a couple of major updates planned this summer before everything got thrown out of whack), so please bear with me.

This was written for ZeroGal's OC fanfic contest on Deviantart, featuring my OC Dovahkiin, the Dragon Knight. I wanted to do a backstory series for pre-war Lacroa for the longest time, and this is going to be the first fic in an upcoming series I have planned. Because let's face it guys: as much as I dislike Lacroa in general, its history and the Knights are amazing awesome.

I'm only half-happy with this fic so far, but since the deadline is today, I'm going to post it now and fix the little details later. As always, I own nothing other than my own OCs and my own silly headcanons about Lacroa's history and the story behind the Shadow Chart. Unbeta'd this time around, but UEP says she'll send me the beta'd version later. For anyone who recognizes the Elder Scrolls references, you get free internets. Concrit is loved.

Are you looking for saviors, chasing a dream

Love turned to hate

Now I'm crossing the border, see then I fade

But I'm not afraid

Sinéad – Within Temptation

i

On the fifth of Second Seed, Dovahkiin, the Dragon Knight, was executed before the De'Lacroa Royal Court.

Executions weren't uncommon in Lacroa. In fact, it was something that happened on a regular day to day basis, not including the public lynching's that the Royal Family "discouraged" but did nothing about despite the fact . . . although the sheer magnitude of this execution was hardly something that could be ignored. Petty executions were held in the town districts across the kingdom hold, where the crimes of the damned ranged from trivial theft to something as meager as a simple failure to pay tax. They hardly drew crowds. Higher profile executions usually drew more public attention, sometimes from as many as two or three holds at a time. Those crimes ranged from adultery, homosexuality, not attending weekly worship ceremonies, and speaking ill of the Gods and the Royal Family. The girls executed for not being virgins on their wedding day were some of the most popular, Nataku observed . . . and ultimately, the most horrible.

When he first became the Bronze Knight of the Royal Knights for the De'Lacroa family, he attended – or rather watched from the safety of the bell tower above the packed square, completely out of sight − the tier three public execution of a sixteen year old girl who had been found with another man after skimping her wedding. It was not his place as a Royal Knight to condemn the nature of the execution, although he found it hard to hide his dismay when saw her being dragged, by her hair, up onto the platform where she would die. She was a pretty human girl with bright red locks and dimpled skin. Her eyes, red rimmed and full of fearful tears, were a stunning blue that he could see all the way from the tower's high ledge. She had been scheduled for an arranged marriage to a higher caste gentleman ten years her senior and had neglected to show up to the ceremony. When family members and guards finally tracked her down and found her, she was discovered in a barn, naked, with the young apprentice of a blacksmith whom her father had previously forbid her to see. He was slain trying to fight the guards and an examination of the girl later revealed that she had lost her innocence. Her family disowned her and handed her over to the authorities, who immediately sentenced her to death. The people that gathered consisted of piggish men who grabbed at her from below the podium, attempting to fist and rip her white executional dress. Even her family had gathered, although any semblance of love they had for their forsaken daughter was gone. Her own mother attempted to stone her from the gallery, screaming obscenities at her that made the Knight cringe. Nataku watched, dismayed, as the priest gave a speech damning her to the planes of Oblivion as a piece of meat for the Daedric Princes to feast on. Then she was knifed. The blade was plunged down into her spine, twisting so deeply between the bone and flesh that the girl knew nothing in death other than agony. Whether or not she even remembered her name as she spilled her last blood and finally left the mortal plane was unknown even to the Nataku, and that haunted him even more than her dying death throes.

And now it was happening again. Except this time, the one who was being executed was one of his best friends . . . and a fellow Royal Knight. The first Royal Knight to ever be executed in Lacroan history: Dovahkiin.

It was a tier five public execution, hosted in the courtyard of Lacroa's castle just beneath the main wall. Everyone in the kingdom was required to attend, although there were no formal means by which the Royal Family of enforcing that attendance Nataku was aware of. The Bronze Knight was sure that everyone in the city would attend anyways regardless, if only in fear of the repercussions for ignoring the Royal Family's mandatory invitation. Their word, after all, was law. What started out as a hot spring day began to cool as sunset approached. The Five Sorcerers had already assembled, preparing the Stone Table and the enchanted chains, while Nataku adjacent to the door that would open at any moment, revealing the King and Queen . . . along with Dovahkiin.

There was a nudge at his side. "Nataku?"

"No, I'm not fine, Battol." The Bronze Knight didn't even bother to look at the younger mech, keeping his vision pinned straight ahead, trying to ignore the jeering of the crowd below and the almost insane, monotonous driving of the Sorcerers as they chanted their incantations. "I feel like I'm going to purge my fuel tank."

"If it's any condolence," the Crimson Knight said, "I feel the same way. And we still don't even know what 'Kin did."

Rock made a sharp clicking noise. The Knight of the Hot Sands stood firm, despite no longer having Dovahkiin beside him. That was how it usually was during ceremonies that they were required to attend: Battol and Nataku would always be together on the right side of the door with Rock and Dovahkiin stood guard across from them. Rock and Dovahkiin were always viewed as being close friends in the same way Battol and Nakatu were, but to see Rock so stern stone-faced coldness in the face of this particular execution was both daunting and worrying to Nataku. Rock looked simply like he didn't care and that worried the Bronze Knight deeply. "Quiet you two."

The large doors began to open.

Nataku straightened immediately. Battol hesitated, though resumed his rigid posture as the King and Queen made their appearance. Rock didn't move from his spot, but his behavior all day had been an enigma and Nataku had no idea what to make of it from the start. King Tyorrg Thalmor De'Lacroa emerged first at the booming of the audience's sharp cheers, followed closely behind by his heavily pregnant wife, Queen Rosalinda Miya D'Lacroa. She was due to give birth to Prince Thalmor Miya De'Lacroa any day now, and it showed as the Queen visibly struggled to walk in her heels and flowing gown. Behind them came an escort of several lower class Imperial Knight Gundams and human knights . . . and behind them, being led onto the wall with bound wrists and ankles, draped in enchanted chains, was the Dovahkiin the Dragon Knight.

Nataku gulped and felt moisture quickly spring to his optics. "Oh gods."

Battol elbowed him sharply. Nakatu quickly understand the silent reminder to hold his tears back. Grieving could come later. Not in front of the citizens. Not in front of the King. Not in front of anyone who could misconstrue his sadness as weakness or something far, far worse: sympathy.

As Dovahkiin was led to the Stone Table, King Tyorrg stood proudly before his throne, facing the citizens in the courtyard below. Queen Rosalina took her seat – she did so with some noticeable difficulty, the size of her pregnant belly greatly hindering her – and began to view the crowd with an obvious expression of uncaring boredom. As Tyorrg stood, silence swept over the crowd. Rock moved forward to take his post beside the King as Nataku and Battol moved beside the Queen. Again, Nataku couldn't help but spare another glance to Dovahkiin. The Dragon Knight's once proud golden and white armor was dull with blatant stress and lack of care, the once pristine finish reduced to a scratched and dented shell of its former glory. The tubing on his wrists and ankles was rubbed raw from the chains and had sprung tiny leaks of blue energon. Nataku felt sadness rush through him at the sight of a mech who was once his friend. He finally forced himself to look away as Dovahkiin looked up at him, their gazes briefly locking. The intense, fearsome glint of light in his blue optics was the only thing about him that remained the same, and Nataku finally averted his gaze back to the crowd.

Dovahkiin's eyes showed no fear. Only raw, unrestrained, unhindered anger.

". . . My beloved subjects of Lacroa," Tyorrg began, his voice booming and carrying over the crowd. "We have gathered her today for the execution of not a Knight, but a traitorous fiend who has succumbed to the wills of the Daedric Lords and become little more than a beast with no worth in the ranks of knighthood."

Battol's voice was a disbelieving whisper. His head jerked, possibly with the intention of looking at Dovahkiin, but he stopped himself short. "What?"

This declaration by the King earned him the automatic gasping and booing of the crowd below.

King Tyorrg turned to Dovahkiin. "Do you have anything you wish to say for yourself, foul creature?"

Again, Nataku found himself unconsciously turning back to Dovahkiin. Rock and Battol followed his example this time, as did the Queen, the Imperial Knights, and the Sorcerers. Dovahkiin's blue optics flashed hard as he looked to the King. His expression was unreadable, although Nataku could feel that same anger he saw radiating from his beaten body. He had never seen Dovahkiin so angry. Ever. He spoke with a raw voice, hoarse from his time in the dungeons. "I spit on your shallow grave, Tyorrg."

This earned an explosive reaction from the crowd. The jeering turned into screams of venomous cursing, damning the Knight. Nataku was horrified that a city that once held the Dragon Knight so dearly could turn on him so quickly, and without even knowing what the extent of his exact crimes were.

Tyorrg immediately rounded on the Royal Knight, slapping him hard across the face. The Knight's head barely even moved and Nataku could tell the King's palm stung from the useless blow, but the display wrenched a supporting cheer from the crowd. Tyorrg spoke with a hiss. "Your mouth will be so dry of thirst in the flaming planes of Oblivion that you will have nothing to spit but your own blood, you wolf."

"If I am the wolf, you and the rest of your kind are stupid sheep."

Another hard slap, followed by more cheering. The courtyard swayed, people raising their fists in support for the King's display of dominance. Tyorrg clearly put more effort into the blow, but once again, Dovahkiin hardly budged. Tyorrg looked furious but somehow managed to keep himself calm enough to turn back to his audience, speaking clearly. "The Dragon Knight we once proudly recognized to be in servitude to the De'Lacroa family has long since been devoured by the darkness of Oblivion. All that remains is this poor shell that we must ban from this world by the will of the Eight Divines!"

Dovahkiin rebounded instantly, laughing darkly. It was a sound that sent a chill down Nataku's backstrut. "Your Divines have been dead for centuries. The only Divine remaining who hasn't been felled by the Shadow Dragon is Talos – Primus − and you disregard him as easily as you do the superiority of the Knight Gundams!"

This earned a very strong reaction from the crowd. Fury, anger . . . but also confusion. And Nataku couldn't help but feel that same confusion instantly grip his mind.

King Tyorrg slowly turned to him. "Superiority?"

Dovahkiin laughed. He raised his head, looking Tyorrg straight in the eye. It was terrifying, Nataku thought, to watch a Knight Gundam – a mech who once declared his eternal servitude to Mankind and the Royal Family of Lacroa – stand up and defy his own King. "Why do you think it is, Tyorrg, that there has never been a human born as eggs from the Spirit Tree?"

The crowd quieted. A murmur rose up.

Tyorrg's face was etched like stonework. It was the same expression Nataku had seen Rock wearing, although King Tyorrg's facial features were much easier to read. He was angry, but also clearly flustered with the nature of the question. He wasn't quite sure where Dovahkiin was going with this, and that bothered him. "The Spirit Tree was given to humans by the Divines in order to birth the spirits that Man would rule. You've seen it on the Spirit Chart yourself, beast. The silhouette of the human is at the top of the chart, standing beside his servant, the Knight Gundam, and above all the other spirits."

Dovahkiin raised his head higher. If his faceplate had been retracted, he may have been grinning wildly. "The human we see at the top of the Spirit Chart is not a mere human, and nay is the Gundam. They are but two separate individuals who are required to unlock the Superior Dragon. It means nothing as to the status of the humans on the Spirit Chart. In fact, the human race is nowhere on the Spirit Chart."

A woman's scream rose clearly over the crowd, followed by intense jeering, shouting, and wailing of pure indignation and anger.

Tyorrg's expression seemed permanently set in fury. "I was wrong about you," he said after some length of time passed between them. The air around both Knight and King was thick enough to be hacked through with a greatsword. "You are not a wolf. You are a snake."

"I am a dragon," Dovahkiin said proudly. "I lived as a dragon, I will die as a dragon, and I will come back as a dragon to burn everything you hold dear to the ground, as Aulduin the World Eater did once before me. Mankind is placed below that of even Mms, at the top of the Shadow Chart."

No one talked about the Shadow Chart. Not openly at least, Nataku thought morbidly as he watched the crowd beneath the wall turn into a gelatinous mass of swaying hysteria. While the Spirit Chart ranked the high spirits born from the Spirit Tree – as was the will of the Divines − the Shadow Chart ranked the spirits that were born strictly by the will of the Daedra. The lower down a spirit was on the Shadow List, the higher their rank. Wolf, Werewolf, Night Fury, Epyon, Darkrai, the infamous Clarke twins who called themselves Pain and Panic . . . and at the very bottom of that list, more evil than the rest, was the Shadow Dragon. To even minutely suggest that Mankind could be ranked alongside those monsters was absolute hearsay. Had Dovahkiin not already been scheduled for death, that seemingly offhand remark would have been enough to win it for him a second time easily.

The crowd instantly became a mass of swaying hysteria.

"Now how about you stop dancing around the subject, Tyorrg?" Dovahkiin finally asked, somehow managing to speak over the wail of the screaming crowd. "What were my crimes? What were my crimes exactly, Tyorrg? Tell them!"

"You mated. Attempted to bear children outside the holy matrimony of wedlock as intended only for Man," Borreith, the First of the Five Sorcerers, said. It was a rare occurrence for any of the Sorcerers to speak, so to hear Borreith now was as disturbing to Nataku as the nature of the entire execution ceremony itself. That, and the revelation of Dovahkiin's crimes. "You ignored the High Law of the Gods and stepped beyond the binds of your servitude to the Royal Family. You demoted yourself."

Dovahkiin's voice was firm, but rose with obviously restrained anger as he turned to snap at the Sorcerer. "I fell in love!"

"Ooh gods," Battol moaned in dismay. "I knew it. I knew it. It was that femme. I should have known . . ."

"You became nothing short of a Daedra bound to Oblivion!" Borreith shouted. Spittle flew from his mouth and landed on Dovahkiin's face. Dovahkiin snarled at him loudly, causing the mage to leap back as though he had been struck.

"The price for your crimes is clear," Tyorrg said. "You are to die."

"And I hereby place a curse on you."

A deathly stillness overcame the crowd and they quieted down until there was nothing but dead silence.

". . . For your crimes, I hereby place a curse on all of you," Dovahkiin said, louder this time. Clearer. As if everyone hadn't already heard him, his words rang loud and clear. "For the death of my beautiful bondmate Fleur, and my unborn twin sons, I damn the De'Lacroa name. For angering Primus for you insolence, and Mankind's arrogant assumption of godhood, Lacroa will fall. Tyorrg, will lose your own wife as I have lost my own, and you will be burdened with a princess unable to carry the De'Lacroa name. The Stone Curse prophecy as foretold by the Five Wise Men will come to light and destroy the kingdom. You will suffer as I have suffered and more, and when your body is too weak to carry itself further in this decaying realm, I will be waiting for you at the gates of the Heavens . . . and when you are about to pass through, I will open my dragon's jaws and tear your soul to shreds, so that it may be split between the Daedric Princes in Oblivion."

Tyorrg looked at Rock. Instead of looking furious, he looked terrified. Instantly, he reached out. For the first time in Nataku's memory, the King's voice trembled. "The blade, Rock."

Rock didn't hesitate. His own optics wide in terror, he reached down into a subspace pocket and produced an object that Nataku recognized well . . . and was horrified to see him carrying. The Blade of Woe.

The blade that was going to be used to kill Dovahkiin.

King Tyorrg took the blade immediately, much to the surprise of the crowd as evidence by their gasps. He immediately walked over to the Stone Table and gestured to the lower caste Knights to force Dovahkiin down. They did, stepping backward and forcing the chained mech to collapse on his side as they tightened the chains and bound him. The magic in the enchanted chinks bonded with the Mana energies already embedded in the Stone Table, trapping Dovahkiin and forcing the once proud Dragon Knight into a position of total submission. The intensifying, escalating roar of the gathered commoners shook with such force that Nataku felt the air around him vibrate. Then another sound rose up from the humans: chanting. It grew louder and more intense as more people joined in, shifting from being a unanimous, bestial grunt into a single chanted word. "Tyorrg, Tyorrg, Tyorrg, Tyorrg . . ."

Nataku watched, horrified, as King Tyorrg stepped up onto the platform beside the table, bracing one knee on the table close to Dovahkiin's face as he leaned over him. The King whispered something to the mech, rousing a slight reaction from the mech. Dovahkiin snapped his faceplate back, turned his head, and spit at the King. Tyorrg flinched back briefly, eyes wide.

Dovahkiin laughed bitterly. "May your world crumble to stone."

King Tyorrg plunged the blade deep into Dovahkiin's Soulstone.

The sky turned dark, and it started to rain.

ii

The rain refused to let up. Even from the shelter of the Royal Knight quarters, the sound of the furious storm refused to let up against the cobblestone walls. On any other night, the Bronze Knight might have found that sound comforting. He found listening to the rain to be therapeutic, and even on his worst days where he felt as if his anxiety and insecurities would swallow him whole, he could force himself to relax. Battol always said he needed to learn how to keep calm and not let his anxiety get the better of him. He was a Royal Knight, after all.

But that wasn't going to happen tonight, Nataku thought. There was nothing the rain could do to help him. Not after all he had seen and heard today.

When the blade sheared through Dovahkiin's golden Soulstone as an awful moment. Worse than watching the redheaded girl being executed as he watched from the bell tower. Worse than watching Moss the Clawed Knight – their previous leader before Rock took over and before Battol joined the Royal Knight rank – get torn to pieces by werewolves on what was supposed to be a routine patrol outside the castle wall. The blade shattered Dovahkiin's Soulstone with a sickening screech, silencing the entire crowd as they watched. Dovahkiin gasped as the blade went down to the hilt, but remained eerily silent as Tyorrg twisted it in deeper for good measure. Nataku couldn't help but watch Dovahkinn's expression. His grin was instantly gone, but if he was in pain, he certainly refused show it. His features remained oddly blank even as energon was finally forced up from his through and into his mouth, staining his lips a horrible pink as the fluid finally overflowed and dribbled out. He shivered, twitched, and then he seemed to mouth something – Fleur – before his proud blue optics glazed over and turned dark. He became very still, his armor greyed, and Dovahkiin the Dragon Knight was gone.

Tyorrg wrenched the blade free, shattering the rest of Dovahkiin's destroyed Soulstone. He stood up, holding the blade over his head. "The beast is DEAD!"

The audience, previously stunned into silence, broke out into thunderous applause. They cheered, swaying and applauding for the death of the Knight they had loved barely three days earlier. Nataku wondered briefly wondered who the real beasts were today, but stopped the thought short as the lower Knights stepped forward to free Dovahkiin's body . . . right before hefting him up carelessly and tossing his lifeless shell into the crowd below. The people scattered as the body landed hard on the cobblestone, instantly breaking the dead Knight's back and snapping his head. As soon as he had hit the ground, the people descended on him, dragging him into the center of the frenzy so they could inflict their own punishment for his crimes. Children were encouraged by their screaming mothers to throw stones, denting his armor as the men kicked and spit at him. As the King, Queen, and Sorcerers turned and walked back into the castle, Nakatu watched as Dovahkiin's body was hitched to the back of a horse carriage by his leg. The people cheered as the men whipped the horses and spurred them to go, dragging the fallen Knight across the courtyard. Once his arm fell off, Nataku recognized the sickening feeling in his fuel tank as nausea, right before he staggered aside and vomited the remains of his breakfast.

Dovahkiin was never the monster. He was brilliant, kind, and no more of a monster than the Divines themselves.

Battol had his hands on his back the whole time as he led him back into the castle. Rock and the other Knights stayed outside for much longer, until the rain finally grew too intense for them to stand outside comfortably. Even the crowd eventually parted, but not before tearing Dovahkiin apart and leaving almost nothing left. Nataku had a fairly decent view of the courtyard from his window, and aside from the few stray pieces of Gundamium that served as Dovahkiin's armor, there was nothing left to bury. Even his helmet was gone, very likely destroyed or sitting on some peasant's shelf as a sick trophy of sorts. What bothered Nataku even more was the fact that Dovahkiin was gone. The Dragon Knight had been the best of them both in his skills at knighthood and his overall civility.

And now he was dead.

The door to his room creaked open. Nataku didn't need to turn around to know who is was. "Hey . . . can I come in?"

"Rock was going to be the one to kill him," Nataku said at length, listening only halfheartedly as Battol closed the door behind him and began to gingerly make his way across the room."That's why he had the blade. The King asked him to do it. And he would have."

"Are you okay?" Battol's voice was unusually soft. The typically boisterous mech gently sat down on the edge of the bed beside him, reaching out and touching his arm gently. His touch was hesitant. Careful. As if the slightest movement would set Nataku off. "You look awful."

"I watched a fellow Knight be executed by his own King today. Can you blame me?"

Battol sighed. "No. I can't."

"Why are you here?"

This made Battol flinch back slightly. "I just wanted to be sure you were okay. You've been quiet since−"

"Since we lost Dovahkiin? Since he was murdered like some kind of sacrificial lamb in front of all of Lacroa by our own King!"

"Hey!" Battol's optics flashed. "You need to relax."

"I can't relax!" Nataku looked at him, finding him unable to rein in his sudden anger. "Battol, Dovahkiin was executed for being bonded. For having a mate and attempting to have sparklings with her."

"He was executed because he was caught," Battol said instantly, rounding on him automatically. "There are hundreds of Knights and other mecha across Lacroa who are bonded too, but none of them have been caught. You're not guilty of treason for bonding unless you're caught, Nataku."

"We'll always be guilty REGARDLESS, Battol!" Nakatu wasn't even aware he had shouted until Battol recoiled away from him. He wasn't even aware he was crying either, right up until his tears finally began to cloud his vision. "What if Tyorrg and the Sorcerers were right, Battol? What if bonding really is the will of the Daedra? What if our ability to feel each other is just some sick power given to us by Dark Mana? What if—?"

Battol immediately pulled him into a hug, turning his head and mashing his faceplate up against his own. Nataku weakly tried to grab at the other Knight's back to pull him off, but his half-sparked efforts went in vain. Shivering, armor clacking, Nataku broke down, clicking rapidly and pressing back into the kiss until Battol retracted his mask and bit around his own faceplate. Nataku pulled his back without hesitation, attacking the other Knight's mouth with a vicious sense of desperation.

Nataku eventually had to break for air, but Battol kept kissing around his jaw and face, suddenly swinging their own bond wide open. ::Tyorrg and the Sourcerers are wrong, 'Tu. All the humans are wrong. There's nothing wrong with bonding. There's nothing wrong with being in love, and Dovahkiin knew it just as I know it. Just as all the other bondpairs across Lacroa know it. The humans will come to understand someday. They have to. They will.::

Nataku revved his engine pathetically. ::Unless they kill us, too. Unless they kill you.::

Battol managed a soft laugh in-between kisses. ::That will never happen.::

::Dovahkiin must have told Fleur the same thing.::

Battol reached up with one hand and yanked back on his scruff plating. ::Nataku. Stop. You'll make yourself sick, love.::

Nataku whimpered, another sharp tremor forcing itself through his body. He felt town between feeling sick and wanting to purge his fuel tank to feeling safe in his mate's arms and wanting to melt into that touch. He squeaked as Battol moved further onto the berth, removing his hand on his back to his stomach, pushing him back. ::I can't stand being a Knight anymore. I hate this place. I hate Lacroa and everything she stands for.::

::Then let me help you forget for a little while.:: Battol said softly, sending a pulse of raw love over the bond. There was a hint of lust there as well, lighting Nataku's senses on fire. His body immediately felt warmer and his mate's hands on him practically vibrated with a promise of pleasure. The force of having his scruff plate so roughly held wrenched a choked moan out of him, followed by a higher keen as the hand on his stomach continued down further and rested over his codpiece. Battol's engine gave a small rev as well. The Crimson Knight bowed his back slightly against Nataku's hands and sighed.

"By Mara," Nataku groaned out loud, spreading his legs a little further and oh yes, Battol's slowly rubbing palm felt sinfully wonderful. He could see slight stars bursting out of the corner of his vision as he found himself staring up at the high chandelier above his bed. "H-how can something so b-bad feel so g-good . . . ?"

Battol nuzzled him. "Easy, Nataku−"

"Ooh gods." The mech finally arched, thrashing his head briefly with a strangled whimper. He canted his hips upward instinctively. He could feel that he was already unbearably hard behind his panel, and he ached to the threshold of pain with each rhythmic clench of his caliper muscles. "Baaattol . . ."

The Crimson Knight laughed warmly, kissing his throat gently before gently taking a cable and rolling it between his denta with a soft nibble. ::I think you need to relax, love.::

"I love you, Battol," he half sobbed, half moaned.

Battol chuckled, leaning down to kiss him . . . before stopping and snapping his head up. His end of the bond briefly closed down.

Nataku writhed, thrusting his hips up again. "Wha . . . what's wrong?"

Battol's end of the bond wavered, blocking him out some. Hesitation briefly flickered across the link . . . only to be replaced the raw, overwhelming sensation of love. Affection pulsed across the bridge, smothering him in warmth and comfort. ::Nothing, 'Tu.::

Nataku dropped his defenses and succumbed. And as the thunderheads rolled in across the valley sky and turned the rain into a torrential downpour with battling forces of thunder and lightning, Nataku forgot all about Dovahkiin. He forgot about the execution, about Lacroa, and about being a Knight bound to eternal servitude to the De'Lacroa family. All he knew was the feeling of being loved, pleasure, and everything that was the essence of Battol. And that was more than okay with him.

iii

Queen Rosalinda Miya De'Lacroa died a slow death at the hands of childbirth three days later, at sunrise. And the son that the Sorcerers had so adamantly promised their King all through the Queen's pregnancy was born a daughter.

It was a deathblow for King Tyorrg Thalmor De'Lacroa, as well as the remaining lineage of the royal De'Lacroa family. With the death of Rosalimana, there was no hope to produce a viable male heir to carry on the De'Lacroa name. Having a female heir meant that her last name would be lost upon marriage to a king born outside the family, which meant that the De'Lacroa line had come to an end.

And that wasn't all. Two Royal Knight Gundam spirit eggs had appeared in the basin of the spirit tree.

"Dovahkiin did this," Nataku said. "He warned us. He warned all of us."

"Stop," Rock said. "Just . . . stop."

The sun was shining profusely, striking the crystal clear water that flowed from the top basin of the spirit tree and into the pool beneath. Nataku found that, if he focused hard enough, he could see the transparent silhouette shape of spirit eggs floating downstream and out of the pool. Most would probably be low ranked spirits such as Mms and other beasts, but many also had the potential to become Knight Gundams. Which, for the same reason, was why they had been called up to investigate. On a standard patrol of the castle, two Imperial Knights had come across two hatched Gundams struggling out of the pool. It was a rare occurrence for them to hatch right away at the base of the Spirit Tree, but when the Knights attempted to approach, the two newborns had reacted in fear and managed to conjure magic circles in order to defend themselves. Imperial Knights had no talent with Mana. Only Royals.

"But what if he was right about the humans being too low on the spirit chart to be sacred creatures anymore?" Battol added as they approached the tree. Neither newborn Royal was in sight. "What if he was right? That the humans are ranked on the Shadow List. That would explain why no human has come out of the Spirit Tree since . . . since ever."

"Battol," Rock snapped, looking at him angrily. "Desist. It is not our job to question our King or the sacred laws of Lacroa. It is our job to defend Lacroa and her Royal Family, and that is all. Do not think even for a moment that your questioning is even remotely moral."

Battol glared. Rock glared right back. The standoff lasted only seconds, but it felt much longer for Nataku as he helplessly watched from the waterside of the pool.

"I just find it to be too much of a coincidence," Battol said casually, ignoring Rock's sharp snarl. The Crimson Knight stood by the pool, examining the area with a lazy air of defiance about him. The new Knights were nowhere in sight, but the fury practically radiating off Rock was. Battol ignored him, much to Nataku's nervous exasperation. "Dovahkiin curses the Royal Family and it happens. The Sorcerers assured that he would have a son and even performed magica rituals to ensure it, and then look what happens. The prince is born a princess, just like Dovahkiin said. Now the question remains . . . if he was right about that, what else was he right about?"

Rock seethed, obviously upset, as he turned away. He said nothing.

Nataku felt the overwhelming need to somehow redirect the situation. "Does the new Princess have a name?"

"He named her Relehimana Miya De'Lacroa," Rock replied, not looking at either of them. "The midwives have her now. The King is in mourning."

"Mourning for the De'Lacroa lineage, that is," Battol said snidely.

Rock's reaction was immediate. He instantly rounded on Battol, knocking the other High Knight into the wall. Nataku had to strafe in order to avoid being crushed behind the Crimson Knight, yelping as he fumbled and went down. Battol shouted as he was roughly shoved against the stone, Rock's hands on his throat. The Knight of Hot Sands looked absolutely furious. "I should kill you for saying such a thing."

"You wouldn't," Battol said, voice hard. "You'd just tattle and have the King execute me instead. Just like you tattled on Dovahkiin."

There was a horrible, tense moment that passed between the two Knights. Nataku felt the air turn almost frigid.

"You told the King about Dovahkiin and Fleur," Battol said. "You saw them. You saw them in the old barn where Dovahkiin used to practice jousting making love and you betrayed on him. You might as well tell them about Nataku and I too, right? You saw us that night after the execution. So why didn't you?"

Rock trembled. It was a subtle quake, but it was definitely there all the same. The Knight of the Hot Sands kept his expression emotionless. "Because I made a mistake."

"For what you did to Dovahkiin? Or for not turning in Nataku and I?"

Rock, again, said nothing for a long time. Then he slowly released Battol, stepped back, and turned around to walk away. He started for the door, stopping briefly to look back at them. "Because," he said, before walking away.

Nataku felt his entire world shift. Rock had seen them. Rock had seen them. Nataku remembered the night after the execution well, as well as exactly what he and Battol had been up to, if only to help keep the death of their fellow knight off his mind. What they had done – what they had as bondmates – was both illegal and punishable by death. They could have easily faced the same fate as Dovahkiin. Briefly, horrified, Nataku imagined him and Battol in the same situation as Dovahkiin had been in. The crowd booing them, attempting to stone them, cursing them to Oblivion and back . . . but the worst part came when it was time for them to die, either by Rock's or by the King's hands. They'd probably take Battol first, knowing his luck. He'd be forced to watch, helpless, as they pinned Battol down by his chains before driving the blade deep into his Soulstone, tearing apart everything that made him Battol. The bond would be shredded, ripped clean in two, and Nataku would have no choice but to watch as the life left his mate's optics and his armor turned grey. Then they'd shove him off the high wall for the commoners and peasants to savage and mutilate to their heart's content. He would have to watch, and it would be the last thing he ever saw – the last horrible, conscious thing he would ever remember – even as the murderer who took him moved to his next victim and took Nataku's own life away from him as—

Battol slapped him. Hard. Nataku's entire head turned from the blow and he snapped out of his thoughts. He was back in front of the pool. Battol was looking at him as though he had seen a ghost and Nataku briefly felt his intakes hitching painfully.

Battol heaved a heavy breath. "Nataku. That will never happen to us."

Nataku felt a wave of revulsion and horror flow through him. Battol had felt his emotions and seen what he had imagined through the bond. "S-sorry. I just. . ."

"Rock thought he was doing what was best for Dovahkiin," Battol said seriously. His optics flashed with emotion, although he didn't let it spill out as he had previously. Whatever had possessed him to talk to Rock the way he had had sobered him up quickly, and now the air about him radiated a pseudo calm. "He had no idea Tyorrg would have him executed. Don't blame Rock for anything, Nataku. Please. He kept our secret because he learned his lesson with Dovahkiin the hard way. And he has to live with that for the rest of his life."

Dovahkiin and Rock were best friends. Brothers. How horrible was it to know that the death of your closest ally – your practical sibling – was on your hands? Nataku barely managed to repress another shudder, if only to keep Battol's worry off of him. "Let's just do one last sweep around the Tree and see if we can't find those new Royal Knights."

iv

Except, it was exactly as the Imperial Knights said: there were two Royal Knight Gundams. Both mechs had cornered themselves in the top basin of the Spirit Tree, knee deep in the bubbling fountain and looking more like cornered dogs than actual mechs. Nataku and Battol would have completely missed them had it not been for one of the mechs accidently splashing in the water on top of the basin, followed by the voice of a mech reprimanding whomever had made the noise. Cautiously, Nataku and Battol exchanged looks, then warily flew up to see what was going on. The two fledgling Knights didn't notice them at first, too engrossed in their hushed argument. One mech was dark blue and white in color, with the slightest bit of red decaling, a golden v-fin, and a shining aqua Soulstone. His optics were a kind shade of blue: hesitant and unsure as he caught sight of Nataku and Battol. The second was much darker and jagged in appearance, with dark green and a Soulstone that glimmered bright green in the sunlight. His optics, unlike the other fledgling Knight, were fierce and sharp.

For a moment, Nataku swore he was looking at Dovahkiin. With a dismayed second-thought, he wondered if Fleur had been anything like the other Knight.

Battol had chuckled absent-mindedly. Either he wasn't aware of the observations Nataku had made, or he was putting up a front and attempting to ignore the haunting similarities in order to appear non-threatening to the new Knights. The energy around both of them positively crackled with tense Mana. Again, it was as the Imperial Knights had said: these mechs definitely had magical hold about them. There was no longer any doubt in his mind whatsoever that they were Royal Knights. "What are you two doing up here? It's not a very good idea to be standing in water like this for too long, you know. You'll freeze."

The first Knight squeaked nervously, quite obviously afraid. His voice was naturally rasped and lightly pitched. "Oh?"

"Who are you?" The second Knight asked without any degree of hesitation. His voice was deeper and much smoother; much less afraid but still obviously weary.

Battol extended his hand and grinned. Nataku could feel his overwhelmingly positive energy spill over into their bond as well. "I'm Battol and my comrade is Nataku. We're Knight Gundams just like you. Here . . ." In his extended hand, he used a minor transformation spell to shift the air into a red rose. "See?"

The first Knight looked positively awed. The second still looked suspicious, but less so.

"What are your names?" Nataku asked politely. He stepped into the basin, despite Battol's privately broadcast warning over the bond to be careful. Neither fledgling mech moved, so Nataku took it as the okay to continue toward them. Slowly.

The blue and white Knight looked surprised. "We have names . . . ?"

"The Divines name us at birth," Battol grinned. "Think carefully. You know them."

Both fledglings looked at one another. The younger of the two twin Knights looked absolutely awed while the older looked much more concentrated. Several moments of silence passed between the two. A lark called somewhere overhead and the bubbling of the basin overpowered its song as it took off from one of the high branches above the Tree and flew away.

". . . Deed," the second Knight finally said at length. For the first time since speaking with him, he sounded uncertain. Nervous even. "My name is Deed . . . I think."

"And . . . I am Zero," the first Knight said afterward. He sounded much more confident of himself. "Yes. It must be Zero."

Battol laughed. "Deed and Zero? Welcome aboard then! Now how about you two get out of there and follow us into the castle. We can get you dried off and find you something to eat. You must be hungry."

It still took more coaxing to get them out of the Spirit Tree's basin. Despite this, the two of them appeared relieved once they were out of the water and on solid ground. Deed and Zero kept close to one another and never strayed more than a few feet apart. Whether or not that was out of fear, kinship, or a combination of the two, Nataku didn't ask. As they led the two into the castle, Battol suddenly chimed to him through their bond.

::Fleur must have been a lot like Zero.:: The Crimson Knight suddenly said. ::Deed has Dovahkiin's eyes.::

Nataku had to force himself to keep from stopping mid-stride. It took another moment for his words to sink in. ::Dovahkiin's unborn twin sons.::

::It's too much of a coincidence.:: Battol said. ::First Rosalina dies and bears a daughter, just like Dovahkiin said. Then these Royal Knights appear. Even if Dovahkiin didn't actually plant a true curse, the Divines . . . ::

::We'll just have to wait for what the future brings.:: Nataku behind them, he heard Deed and Zero hesitate, stopping dead in their tracks to look up and gaze in awe at the high decorated ceiling of the castle hallway they had entered. He stopped to look at them. The fear in Zero's eyes had been replaced with amazement as he took in the paintings and mosaic glass that twinkled in the sunlight streaming through the high pane windows. Deed, meanwhile, looked both astonished and uncertain, looking at though he found himself unsure how to process the sight.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Battol asked.

Zero looked to him, his optics flashing. He must have been smiling behind his mask, if his overjoyed expression had anything to determine. "Its . . . yes. Very beautiful."

Deed nodded slowly, never taking his optics away. He said nothing, but his body language spoke volumes. It seemed he was looking at something in particular and, hesitantly, Nataku followed his gaze.

It was a painting of a dragon, slain in a meadow of flowers and surrounded with light.

Just like another dragon he knew, slain at sunset on the Fifth of Second Seed.

Fin