DISCLAIMER: I hope you read the first one,
But just in case you missed it-
I own but not a damn thing.
PS, My Ass says you can kiss it.
LONG TIME GONE
Chapter Two: Warm Welcomes and Adjustments.
Folken frowned in annoyance. Dilandau. The rebel. Why did he always have to screw things up one way or another? He was a bit surprised at his own exasperation, but the young soldier had gotten him in predicaments too many times before, and it was wearing on his patience. There was a knock at the door.
"Come in," he said, his cool voice breaking the dark silence that so often filled his abode.
Through the door came the very source of his current irritation, Dilandau. The boy was sweaty, smeared with a liquid that looked like grease-- or maybe blood-- on him, and completely out of uniform.
His disarray and lack of formality, as he neglected to bow when he entered, incensed Folken. He was ready to lecture the boy, but then he saw what-- or whom he was dragging behind him.
Kenshia succumbed to her feeling of fatigue as she was dragged behind Dilandau, bound by her hands. She dropped to her knees on the tile floor, letting her sweaty, sun burnt shoulders slump and her head hang.
"I found her in the forest near Freud looking for chronil, Folken-sama. My guymelef broke down…damn thing mustn't have taken to the new gears," Dilandau began, oblivious to the look on Folken's face. "I nearly killed her, being a Freudian and all, but then she told me she could build guymelefs, and I figured I'd see if she was lying or not," he looked up, paused, to see if Folken was following him. "She could be of use to us."
Folken sighed at Dilandau's recklessness, but said nothing of it.
"She's cut up pretty bad, stopping my sword an inch short of her face with her hands, the brave little bitch," Dilandau scoffed and grinned. He hauled Kenshia to her feet, pulling harshly on her binds and satisfied with the yelp this earned him. He wasn't usually this sadistic, but he'd had a bad couple of days.
Kenshia stood and straightened her posture, regaining composure and trying to flip as much hair out of her face as possible without her hands. She tilted her chin up, exposing her dirty and rather tired face to Folken. She tried to hide her fatigue, but her eyes showed how merely standing was using all of the effort she had.
Folken surveyed the young woman in front of him, who had obviously been subjected to some unusually harsh treatment.
Her brown eyes were tired, light blue hair- which reminded him of his own- matted, and skin flushed with redness from sunburn. She had a particularly muscular frame, and was as tall if not a 1/2 inch taller than Dilandau. Her hands were bound with rope that was caked heavily with blood. Half of her shirt was also saturated in blood from a wound on her abdomen. The girl was, no doubt, in pain.
"Get her cleaned up, then. Give her clothes and quarters in the guest hall. She is to rest, where after we will see what engineering skills she has," Folken paused, as though he were forgetting something. Ah, yes. "What is your name, miss?" he asked.
The girl replied, "Daisukien Kenshia."
"Shall she be guarded?" Dilandau asked, sounding a bit annoyed at Folken's kindness to the girl. Guest quarters? That means she'd be sleeping in his hall. She should be in prisoners' quarters, for crying out loud!
"Yes, give her a guard." Folken gave another glance to the girl and saw her eyelids drooping. She would pass out soon, for sure. "Is this all, Dilandau?"
"Hai, Folken-sama."
"Dismissed."
Dilandau bowed as he left, seemingly regaining at least something in the way of military bearing, as he dragged the girl along with him.
Kenshia had bathed after getting her wounds dressed by the nurse at the base. She was an older, quiet woman who offered little in the way of conversation, which suited Kenshia just fine under the circumstances. She had bathed on her own, refusing any service from the nurse.
The clothes she was given must've been a joke, some sort of way for that boy-- what was his name? Dylan-somethin'-or-other…to poke fun at her gender. It was a dress, though a rather simple one which looked almost comfortable- she did not wear dresses. So she stayed in the robe she was given and walked outside of her room, to her guard.
"Is this a joke?" She asked, holding the dress up to him. He was tall man in Zaibach armor, and his constant observation and continued silence unnerved Kenshia. She wondered if they did that on purpose. "I'd like to see Dilandau, if that is at all possible."
The guard gave her a sideways look, seeming rather upset at her request. She just glared indignantly; getting more angered at the prospect of wearing a dress.
The guard walked her to Dilandau's room, where she promptly knocked on the door until the occupant within opened it. Dilandau has a toothbrush in his mouth and a psychotically displeased look on his face, which seemed rather humorous to Kenshia. She stifled a giggle as she leaned on the doorframe and gave a 'you know why I'm here' look to Dilandau.
Dilandau scowled and removed his toothbrush. "What?" He snapped, obviously regretting he hadn't killed the girl earlier.
"This dress. Great for nightclothes, but if you expect me to wear this tomorrow you've gone utterly--"
"--insane?" Dilandau finished for her. "Yes, I get that a lot," he smirked, and then frowned, "So, what do you want me to about it?
"I need trousers. You know- boy clothes. It's what I wear, and I certainly can't work in this thing," she said, swinging the dress on one finger.
Dilandau gave a half-sigh, half-scream in annoyance. "Why can't you just be a girl?" He paused and looked at Kenshia's waist. "Um…what size are you?"
"No idea. I've made every article of clothing I've ever worn…well, you know, you look about my waist size, and you're my height, too…"
"No, you're not saying--"
"I am one hell of an engineer, and hell if you can work in a dress, what makes you think I can??" she said, trying her best not to get killed with such an outstanding request. Dilandau gave an incredulous look.
"I don't believe this," he said, handing her a pair of his casual trousers.
"I need a--" Kenshia was cut off by a tank top hitting her in the face, followed by Dilandau's slamming the door in her face. She heard the sound of a wooden plank lock sliding home, and smirked, "Asshole."
