Alright, basic explanation for this fic: Begins after Zaibach's attack on
Fanelia, I won't say anymore, because I want it to be a surprise. (major
plot alterations here FYI)
Please R/R, I'm a writer in training. Criticism is welcome, but please no flames.
Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne or its characters, not even poor Folken
Chapter One: News of the Battle
Folken slowly made his way down the dimly-lit hallway in his fortress. No sound emanated from his footfalls as he walked, only the slight hissing of the hem of his cloak sliding along the floor. The only light came from torches which glowed a sickly yellow, flickered, and cast erie, twisted forms of his shadow on the Vione's walls.
His face was stone-like, eyes half-closed as he drew ever closer to the Melef Hangar Where Dilandau was to give his report. The dragonslayers had just now returned from the surprise attack on Fanelia, and Folken was none to eager to hear of the results.
He clenched his fist under his cloak, wanting to cry out, to release himself from the guilt laying heavily on his soul. But his face remained an impenetrable shield of forced indifference. his step constant, never missing a beat.
When he entered the hangar he immediately spotted Dilandau, who was making his feelings well-known as he screamed at the cowering slayers.
"And another thing!"
"Crack!!" His hand colliding with the unfortunate Chesta's face echoed loudly off the high walls and ceiling.
"If I ever see any of you make a careless mistake like that again, your ass will be mine! Understood?!" Dilandau scowled as his men, cold fire burning in his crimson eyes.
"YES SIR!!" They all answered at once, even Chesta, whose cheek was beginning to develop a blotchy purple bruise.
As Folken came down the steps to meet with them, the slayers snapped to attention, except Dilandau who simply glared at his commander with a bored expression.
"I suppose you want your report now, Strategos?" Dilandau asked dauntingly.
"Folken looked down at the boy, expressionless as always. "Yes, Dilandau. Give me a brief report now; I will expect a full one to be in my hands by tomorrow evening. "
The boy's eye twitched at this, he seemed throughly annoyed at having to complete such a task.
Folken sighed and closed his eyes, working with Dilandau was never easy, and he was definitely not in a state to effectively hide his frustration. "Give me a brief summary of the battle, mostly I just need to know about the outcome."
Dilandau smiled wryly. "Well, Strategos, we used the stealth cloaks as your recommended and made it into the country without them even knowing we were there. There was very little resistance, I'm wondering why Dornkirk even considered them a threat." As he talked Dilandou waves his hand around in the air carelessly, and Folken had to resist a strong urge to smack the little monster.
"You say 'little resistance'. Does that mean that there was some?"
Dilandau smirked and ran a few fingers through his sliver locks. "Yes, well, if you could really call it 'resistance', I'd more call it mass suicide."
Folken was loosing his patience, his nerves were already stretched far too thin. "Dilandau, kindly leave your opinions to yourself. Was there anything peculiar about the battle?"
"Well, surprisingly, yes." Dilandau leaned against the railing of the platform and stared into space. "There was a strange white guymelef."
Folken's eyes widened at this. *Van...........* He calmly continued, "Were you able to capture it?"
"Capture it? There was no need, the pilot had very little skill. He went down without much of a fight. I doubt anyone could've survived something like that." Dilandau chuckled to himself.
Folken's whole body went numb as the shock settled in *VAN! NO!!!*
Folken stood in a daze, too shocked to react. Then anger took hold. He forgot all about keeping his head about him, about keeping his guard up. None of it mattered, that little bastard had crossed the line for the final time.
He seathed in his anger until it seemed it would burn him alive, then in a flash his right arm shot out from under his cloak. His claw-like fingers wrapped themselves around Dilandau's slender neck and squeezed hard, drawing little rivers of blood where their ends poked into his snow- white skin.
Dilandau's face was one of shock, his eyes bulged and his mouth opened and closed uselessly like that of a stranded fish as he struggled to breath. He tried to speak, but all that came out were barely audible squeaks and wheezes.
Folken's eyes narrowed and his lips pulled back in a snarl as he lifted Dilandau off the ground. His voice was deep and deadly through his teeth, stinging with every word. "Tell me, Dilandau, do you like feeling pain? Do you like suffering as you have made others suffer?" With that he let go, allowing the boy fall to the cold metal floor.
Folken's senses came back to him and he was suddenly aware of the eerie and shocked silence of the hangar, all eyes were on him. Without another word to slayers, without even dismissing them, he retreated quickly up the stairs and back to his private quarters.
............................................................................ ............................................................................ .......................................
"Lord Dilandau!? Are you okay, sir?" Miguel was kneeling next to Dilandau, attempting to bring him around as he had passed out after being released from Folken's iron grip.
As he slowly came to, Dilandau looked up at the Slayer and growled. "Get away from me you imbecile!" "Slap!!"
Albatou rose on shaky legs, one hand absent-mindedly stroking the punctures left by Folken's claws. His voice was low, hardly a whisper, "He WILL pay...." The blood-lust in his eyes was unmistakable, and there depths almost seemed to boil with their thirst.
The Dragonslayers were backing up slowly now, each gripped in their own horrible vision of how their commander's wrath would fall on them .
He was trembling in his rage now, spit bubbling out of the corners of his mouth. "FOOLL-KEN!!! YOU'LL PAAAY!!!" With that he fell back to his knees and stroked his neck, the fires of insanity clearly lit in his widened eyes.
............................................................................ ............................................................................ .......................................
Folken sat hunched over on the edge of his bed, both hands covering his face, to conceal his pain. A single tear slipped form between his fingers, sparkling in the lamplight until in landed silently in his lap.
A candle was lit on his desk, a single light that he wished would snuff itself out. No longer could he bare to be in the light, not where all could see his betrayal.
"Lord Folken?"
Folken raised his head and was face to face with Naira, one of his two most loyal servants.
Okay, its not like I don't like Dilly, he's my second fav character. And I realize some of you may see Folken's actions as being very OOC, but this is simply my interpretation of what might happen in such a situation. Please REVIEW!!
Please R/R, I'm a writer in training. Criticism is welcome, but please no flames.
Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne or its characters, not even poor Folken
Chapter One: News of the Battle
Folken slowly made his way down the dimly-lit hallway in his fortress. No sound emanated from his footfalls as he walked, only the slight hissing of the hem of his cloak sliding along the floor. The only light came from torches which glowed a sickly yellow, flickered, and cast erie, twisted forms of his shadow on the Vione's walls.
His face was stone-like, eyes half-closed as he drew ever closer to the Melef Hangar Where Dilandau was to give his report. The dragonslayers had just now returned from the surprise attack on Fanelia, and Folken was none to eager to hear of the results.
He clenched his fist under his cloak, wanting to cry out, to release himself from the guilt laying heavily on his soul. But his face remained an impenetrable shield of forced indifference. his step constant, never missing a beat.
When he entered the hangar he immediately spotted Dilandau, who was making his feelings well-known as he screamed at the cowering slayers.
"And another thing!"
"Crack!!" His hand colliding with the unfortunate Chesta's face echoed loudly off the high walls and ceiling.
"If I ever see any of you make a careless mistake like that again, your ass will be mine! Understood?!" Dilandau scowled as his men, cold fire burning in his crimson eyes.
"YES SIR!!" They all answered at once, even Chesta, whose cheek was beginning to develop a blotchy purple bruise.
As Folken came down the steps to meet with them, the slayers snapped to attention, except Dilandau who simply glared at his commander with a bored expression.
"I suppose you want your report now, Strategos?" Dilandau asked dauntingly.
"Folken looked down at the boy, expressionless as always. "Yes, Dilandau. Give me a brief report now; I will expect a full one to be in my hands by tomorrow evening. "
The boy's eye twitched at this, he seemed throughly annoyed at having to complete such a task.
Folken sighed and closed his eyes, working with Dilandau was never easy, and he was definitely not in a state to effectively hide his frustration. "Give me a brief summary of the battle, mostly I just need to know about the outcome."
Dilandau smiled wryly. "Well, Strategos, we used the stealth cloaks as your recommended and made it into the country without them even knowing we were there. There was very little resistance, I'm wondering why Dornkirk even considered them a threat." As he talked Dilandou waves his hand around in the air carelessly, and Folken had to resist a strong urge to smack the little monster.
"You say 'little resistance'. Does that mean that there was some?"
Dilandau smirked and ran a few fingers through his sliver locks. "Yes, well, if you could really call it 'resistance', I'd more call it mass suicide."
Folken was loosing his patience, his nerves were already stretched far too thin. "Dilandau, kindly leave your opinions to yourself. Was there anything peculiar about the battle?"
"Well, surprisingly, yes." Dilandau leaned against the railing of the platform and stared into space. "There was a strange white guymelef."
Folken's eyes widened at this. *Van...........* He calmly continued, "Were you able to capture it?"
"Capture it? There was no need, the pilot had very little skill. He went down without much of a fight. I doubt anyone could've survived something like that." Dilandau chuckled to himself.
Folken's whole body went numb as the shock settled in *VAN! NO!!!*
Folken stood in a daze, too shocked to react. Then anger took hold. He forgot all about keeping his head about him, about keeping his guard up. None of it mattered, that little bastard had crossed the line for the final time.
He seathed in his anger until it seemed it would burn him alive, then in a flash his right arm shot out from under his cloak. His claw-like fingers wrapped themselves around Dilandau's slender neck and squeezed hard, drawing little rivers of blood where their ends poked into his snow- white skin.
Dilandau's face was one of shock, his eyes bulged and his mouth opened and closed uselessly like that of a stranded fish as he struggled to breath. He tried to speak, but all that came out were barely audible squeaks and wheezes.
Folken's eyes narrowed and his lips pulled back in a snarl as he lifted Dilandau off the ground. His voice was deep and deadly through his teeth, stinging with every word. "Tell me, Dilandau, do you like feeling pain? Do you like suffering as you have made others suffer?" With that he let go, allowing the boy fall to the cold metal floor.
Folken's senses came back to him and he was suddenly aware of the eerie and shocked silence of the hangar, all eyes were on him. Without another word to slayers, without even dismissing them, he retreated quickly up the stairs and back to his private quarters.
............................................................................ ............................................................................ .......................................
"Lord Dilandau!? Are you okay, sir?" Miguel was kneeling next to Dilandau, attempting to bring him around as he had passed out after being released from Folken's iron grip.
As he slowly came to, Dilandau looked up at the Slayer and growled. "Get away from me you imbecile!" "Slap!!"
Albatou rose on shaky legs, one hand absent-mindedly stroking the punctures left by Folken's claws. His voice was low, hardly a whisper, "He WILL pay...." The blood-lust in his eyes was unmistakable, and there depths almost seemed to boil with their thirst.
The Dragonslayers were backing up slowly now, each gripped in their own horrible vision of how their commander's wrath would fall on them .
He was trembling in his rage now, spit bubbling out of the corners of his mouth. "FOOLL-KEN!!! YOU'LL PAAAY!!!" With that he fell back to his knees and stroked his neck, the fires of insanity clearly lit in his widened eyes.
............................................................................ ............................................................................ .......................................
Folken sat hunched over on the edge of his bed, both hands covering his face, to conceal his pain. A single tear slipped form between his fingers, sparkling in the lamplight until in landed silently in his lap.
A candle was lit on his desk, a single light that he wished would snuff itself out. No longer could he bare to be in the light, not where all could see his betrayal.
"Lord Folken?"
Folken raised his head and was face to face with Naira, one of his two most loyal servants.
Okay, its not like I don't like Dilly, he's my second fav character. And I realize some of you may see Folken's actions as being very OOC, but this is simply my interpretation of what might happen in such a situation. Please REVIEW!!