Chapter 2

Chesta guessed that this must be what his personal hell must be like.

Why he was getting a sneak preview was beyond his comprehension. He almost wanted to ask Lord Folken if he had done something to displease him, though he knew that couldn't be the case.

More likely, he had been chosen because he was one of the more docile slayers and Folken had merely found it amusing to saddle him with the only female they now had aboard the ship. A young, attractive, incredibly teasing female who enjoyed the way he squirmed.

Zoey, the female who occupied Chestas thoughts, was indeed finding it hilarious to make the young man blush. The boy's body was ridged, as if he was anticipating her to stab him at any moment. Or like she was a feral animal.

She snorted and watched his eyes dart nervously to her before focusing on the dimly lit hallway they turned down. With his reactions she was beginning to wonder exactly how old he was. Because he was either just shy of post pubescent or he hadn't seen a woman…ever.

Well, no time like the present to bring up awkward questions.

She smiled, "Sooooo, Chesta. Roomie. Guy. Dragon slayer, or whatever they called you guys. How old are you?" She peered up at him. He was at the very least, taller than her. Good.

He was silent but she saw the little facial movements that betrayed the little anxious thoughts he was having.

Chesta was struggling with why she would even ask. Dread was collecting in his chest as he went through possibilities of where she was going with this. Finally he stuttered an answer. "I'm 15 summers old."

He gauged her reaction through his peripherals. She blinked, astonished. Then she got this strange wide-eyed yet still devious look before finally her lips parted and she exclaimed, "You're a baby! Oh god I've been teasing you and you're barely out of diapers. Dear god, I'm a pervert!" She made a dramatic sweep of the hand that came to rest on her forehead in a gesture of angst. Her eyes, though, after a few moments peered up at him curiously. "I'm assuming summers is like years? Right? Or do you have some strange leap year system and you're actually older?"

Chesta blinked, and then furrowed his brows cutely (at least to her it was cutely) while he thought. "I'm not sure I understand. Years I think I get." He pursed his lips and for a moment, Zoey felt him relax somewhat, as if him thinking had made him forget that she was hanging on his arm. She smiled, finally getting to see the young soldier not quite as guarded. "You're strange."

She nodded solemnly, "I get that a lot."

They stared at each other, coming to a stop in the hallway. Serious face to serious face. Then she broke the mood and grinned evilly and wiggled her brows at him.

He flushed and went ramrod straight. Like a nervous race horse he bolted forward, forgetting she was still hugging his arm, and dragged her along.

He flung open a door in the hallway on the left hand side. There were four beds within, each separated by paneled cloth screens.

"Oh my Chesta! Bringing me to bed with you when we've just met, how naughty!" She exclaimed and watched him boil with embarrassment in his armor. At this point, she was waiting for him to faint.

Chesta was feeling lucky that none of the other slayers were with him if only for the fact that he was sure they would be peeing themselves with laughter right now. As it was, he was fairly certain that he would be permanently red hued. If he didn't faint.

The room was supposed to house four Dragonslayers. Because of the uneven number though, Chesta had ended up with his own private room. Though on most occasions someone would come spend the night in one of the free beds just because they all felt bad about Chestas aloneness. With maybe the exception of Migel who was apathetic because he wished he had his own room.

Each bed was Spartan, containing only bare essentials as far as bedding, a singular nightstand for a kerosene lamp, and on the far wall was a dresser with four drawers. "Uh, I have the top drawer so you can pick whichever other drawer you want." He mumbled. Zoey nodded, though she was busy inspecting the different beds.

"I'm going to pretend this is Sleepies and test all the beds. That cool with you?" She smiled mischievously before falling back into the first. She hit it with a omphf and next to no bounce. "Ouch geeze. This one is much too hard."

He had no idea what a Sleepies was. Or why she would want to try the beds. They were all the same. "All of them will be that way." He watched her pout. Before getting up and trying the next.

His.

He had just stopped blushing and now he could feel his face burn to life once again as she crawled onto his bed and flopped over onto her back. "This ones not so bad." Zoey caught a look at his face and crinkled her brows. "That's wrong with you? I didn't say anything perverted yet." She stuck her legs straight up into the air and waved them in scissor kicks. All the while she watched his face.

This had gone from bad to worse. He hadn't seen a naked woman before, except for the drawing Migel had smuggled onto the ship and showed everyone, and it had flashed before his minds eye as she wiggled comfortably into his bed. The worst part was that he didn't even think she meant to do such things to him but with her laying there in her strange clothes, for just a split second, he had imagined her naked. The legs in the air were doing nothing to help him either.

He shifted uncomfortably, feeling exactly how tight the leather cup in his armor was suddenly becoming. He tried to look anywhere but at her, all the while fidgeting. If only he could adjust himself. Maybe then he wouldn't be so uncomfortable.

Zoey watched the emotions flying across his face, now completely still. It had suddenly dawned on her that on a ship full of men, the reason Chesta had suddenly looked away red faced may be because she was unintentionally teasing him a little too much. Not that she had meant to. But she was so used to men of her like-minded-ness and attitudes, that facing some 15 year old soldier from wherever the hell 'here' was catching her off guard.

She had been having fun, but she knew now to stop.

Lowering her legs and sitting up she turned to his nightstand and the book on it. It was worn with old leather bindings. The front proclaimed it to be Gelderhan the Golden Knight in scrawling gold cursive. "What's this?" She quipped curiously. As soon as she went to open it though, Chesta yelped.

"No! Don't touch that!" He dove at the bed.

She held it away from him. Her curiosity peaked. "Why? Is it a dirty book? Am I gonna find all the pages stuck together?" She grinned evilly. She waved the leather bound book teasingly from side to side.

Red faced and suddenly angry, Chesta pinned her to the bed and glared down at her. Zoey was so shocked by his sudden manliness that she went limp, staring up at him with wide eyes.

"Give it back. It's…a treasure of mine. Personal." Chesta angrily stared down at her before realizing that she was cringing away from him, like she was expecting a blow. The bruising from Dilandau was beginning to show on her jaw and it made her expression seem suddenly very vulnerable.

Unable to bare her expression, especially considering her previous attitude, he released her shoulders. She lifted the book slowly to him, pushing it up against his chest until he took it. "I'm sorry." It was a whisper. She waited wide-eyed, as he pushed himself off the bed and put it on his nightstand.

He wouldn't look at her. "I didn't mean to scare you. Just…don't touch that."

The silence that stretched between them was so awkward it almost hurt.

"I'm guessing this is your bed?" She asked quietly, sitting up. "I'll go plant myself in one of these." She sashayed around him quietly, picking the bed in the farthest corner from his.

Chesta berated himself, glancing furtively over at her and watching her tentatively test the bed before snuggling into it, on top of the covers, her back facing him. He heard her sigh, but he could no longer see her face.

"I, uh, still have to show you were the bathrooms are. And then I'll bring you to see Lord Folken." She was slow to move but she got up and followed him to the door quietly.

The hallway ended at a blue door or a sharp right which led to a short hallway with a red door. To the blue door he gestured, "This is the toilet and the shower. Ah, I don't think they're segregated by gender since these are for Dragonslayers. Folken might know better." To the red door, "That's lord Dilandaus room. Do not ever enter his room. Ever." Chesta insisted.

Her silent nodding was almost more nerve wracking than her sexual harassment. The blond wasn't sure which he would prefer but the odds were beginning to favor her talkative self rather than this silent act. At least then he knew what was going on inside her head, because it was all spewing forth from her lips. She was so silent now that her feet hardly made a sound. Though- he peered down for a quick look- she had no shoes still, which made him frown.

She could have been plotting how to murder him in his sleep and now he would never know.

It was a relief when he brought her back to the conference chamber and led her to Folken, who was just re-entering from the curtain behind where Dilandau's chair once sat. Chesta took his place back amongst his fellow Dragonslayers. It was a few moments before he realized that they were all staring intently at him and he began to fidget.

Folken raised one finely arched brow at the now very silent girl standing before him. Dilandau's little temper tantrum had just begun to dwindle and he would be well pleased to see the bruising that was beginning to form on the now suspiciously quiet Lady Zoey's face.

He looked at Chesta, who was fidgeting in place, looking anywhere but up at the girl.

Folken cleared his throat. "Lady Zoey, did Chesta show you to your rooms?" She nodded, shocking him further. His face betrayed little. "Chesta…"

"Chesta…Dalet!" Dilandau re-emerged from the curtain with a gleeful swish. He paused upon seeing Zoey, but she only silently watched the torch on the wall, and that seemed to satisfy him. "I have a special mission for you both. You will take the Guymelefs and, using the new stealth cloaks, take a little trip to that backwater country Fanelia with me." Dilandau's grin was positively evil and he prolonged the word Fanelia by extending the vowels as if he relished the thought of whatever Fanelia was. Zoey didn't particularly care at the moment. She was having her own temper tantrum.

Though hers didn't involve hitting people, she thought sourly.

She knew she was being childish. But the gravity of her situation have become uncomfortably clear when Chesta, who by all appearances was the sweetest of the 'Dragon Slayers' (or whatever), had overpowered her easily. This wasn't rough-housing in Kurts basement, where there was little chance of actually getting hurt. These were all young men, with swords, armor, and, apparently, missions.

They were soldiers. And she was not.

She frowned then, getting angry. Because she hated being sad, she mentally rationalized. And she was going to go all passive aggressive on all their asses. She felt the first glimmer of vindictive female aggressiveness twitch her lips into a evil smirk.

That's right! You've never seen my passive aggressive. You've probably never even seen a woman so all my woman-ninja-esque techniques will be new, cruel, and unusual. Mwahahahahah! Now she was gleefully plotting her vengeance. Secretly knowing that poor Chesta was going to, most likely, take the brunt of her frustrations. And that handsy Miguel. Yessssssss. Evil grin.

Chesta, who had stepped to the front and was listening with Dalet, prepping for their mission, had a sudden shiver of apprehension. Out of the corner his eye he spotted Lady Zoey shaking with glee, a murderous look in her eyes, and he gulped. Oh Gods, she's definitely plotting revenge.

"Chesta!" Dilandau glowered down at him from the dais, one fist twitching as if he had just envisioned backhanding him. Chesta winced, staring up at Lord Dilandau apologetically. "Is that wisp of a female so distracting to you? A soldier of mine?" He drawled angrily, his garnet colored eyes glaring at said wisp. She suddenly blinked, as if realizing where she was.

"No." was his quiet response. Dalet was trying to keep his face clear of emotion. Worried that Dilandau would turn on him next.

Dilandau's lips curved in a cruel smirk. "Oh is that so? Are you sure? I'll throw her in a cell, manacled to the floor, if it would improve your concentration." He grinned.

Zoey gaped at the maniac. "I didn't even do anything this time!" She yelped out indignantly. Then winced at the sudden swivel of the Angry Lord's head. "God damnit I have to stop doing that." She held up her palms in surrender.

15 pairs of eyes were back to staring with wide eyes at her. They all know to keep their mouths shut around this guy. Why can't I seem to? She mentally berated herself.

Lord Folken, who had been quietly watching once again, stepped between Dilandau and Zoey. "I'll be taking Lady Zoey to learn her new duties on board. Please continue to share the Intel with the Dragon Slayers on Fanelia. Your Guymelefs are being prepped by the crew as we speak." At Dilandau's disgruntled face Folken added, "She can't clean or cook for you if she's chained in a cell. She'll be useless. When you come back, Lady Zoye will have a meal prepared for you."

Dilandau seemed to be pacified somewhat, nodding thoughtfully as if he was thinking, 'Yes, she'll do woman's work.'

And Zoey, for once, wasn't about to argue. She took the opportunity and left with Lord Folken, following the swish of his epic cape thingy. Which she wanted one of. Maybe in Blue Tiger print. She grinned.

I want to look like a wizard-rock-star, she thought staring up at the back of his head.

Indeed.

I know! I'm terrible for not updating. Please just leave me angry reviews about my lack of update-age. Don't throw things. That isn't nice. :P