A.n.-Gomen-ne for the wait, been a hectic month. I hope you all enjoy this chapter as well, be sure to drop me a line^_^.

Dedication-Litschi, ThePinkMartini, Laloner, Flor-Desu, and NewFish. Thank you all so much for your support! You are all so incredibly kind and awesome! I'm very happy that you enjoy this story, I hope you like this chapter as well. ^_^_^

Sweet release.

That was what the fight was for Dilandau.

The battle cries through out the field, the raw terror but miss-placed determination in their eyes, the warm spray of their blood as his sword plunged into them...

It was better then sex, better then any drug or drink...this was the purest of bliss. This moment, after the battle was won and his muscles were still trembling with exertion and excitement, as he stared over the valley into the hundreds that lay over the red soaked ground. The sun was just now beginning to set, it was a clash of crimson and orange that made the very sky seem on fire.

It was beautiful. Every time he stared down at it, he swore there would never be another moment to equal it. But always, there was. That, more then anything, is what drove Dilandau on into the fight. Of course, the battle itself was a pleasure all its own. A perfect melody that he had been born to dance to, but every song must have a Creshendo every pleasure must peak to its climax.

"Your Excellency, Sir!"

Dilandau felt his right eye brow twitch dangerously, his hand going to the hilt of his blade in a slow, almost languid motion as he turned. He didn't recognize the voice, but that was to be expected. All of his Dragon Slayers, now his Generals he amended quickly, and anyone else that valued their life knew better then to interrupt him after a battle.

The boy was young, barely a man with a head full of shaggy black hair and dark brown eyes. His features were small, almost fey like with his pointed chin and high cheekbones. His lips were thin, like a rubber band stretched taunt. They trembled now, with what Dilandau presumed was the fear at seeing his own death reflected back in his Lord's eyes.

The boy opened his mouth, perhaps to give a reason for interrupting this most sacred moment. Dilandau didn't care. There was no reason good enough.

He gave no warning, almost as though his thought alone had summoned the sword into his hand it was there. A single stroke and the boy was cleaved in two from shoulder to hip. Blood spurted from thin lips, eyes wide with a final flash of pain before the void took him.

The Bringer of Death.

Not even his own men should doubt the power that He wielded.

Dilandau chuckled, running a crimson soaked hand through his silver hair. He lifted the sword slowly, balancing it on his shoulder. The blood of his slain soldier dripped slowly off the obsidian blade. A lovely contrast, black and red. Colors of power, of darkness and unstoppable might.

He licked his lips, firey eyes all aglow with the taste of death as he rose them to meet the shocked eyes of his remaining army. None of them dared speak a word, and all stood to attention, their chests puffing out as they awaited any command he might have.

Dilandau's eyes lingered on all their faces before announcing that they would return to Rowan this night, the day was theirs.

All saluted, their loyalty set in stone even if their Lord was insane. They had cast the dye, whatever came of it could not be changed now. And to speak it now, would be treason. And none of them dared to contemplate what creative things their Lord would do to a traitor.

Dilandau swaggered his way through his army until he found his white mare. She was a fine horse, white from mane to hoof, big black eyes and bulging muscle and sinew. She was fast, agile and intelligent. Most who rode had a tendency to choose a horse the same sex as they, or a male thinking it to be the dominate horse.

This wasn't true. The most feisty of stallions always fell behind the alpha mare, she was leader in the pack. It amused Dilandau that most men thought to apply the laws of man to an animal. Animal hierarchy was often much different then that of a human. Something that only beast men seemed to understand. Perhaps, Dilandau mused, because they were much more in touch with their baser instincts.

Jajuka...

Harshly Dilandau shoved the thought down deep, irritation dipping his brow and bringing a snarl to his lips. It had been a long time since he had thought of the blond Dog Man. He had been a trusted ally, once upon a time. Before Folkin had shoved a sword through his chest, that is.

If he felt pain for the loss of the Dog Man, is was buried beneath the rage he felt that Jajuka had let himself die. That in his last moment he had been weak enough to let the blade peirce him. The weak die, only the strong survive. The thought of Jajuka's death brought the acidic taste of shame to Dilandau's mouth.

He spurred his horse on, loseing himself in the feeling of freedom it brought. The wind lashed against his face, the setting sun cool on the back of his neck. Behind him he could hear the hoof beats of his men as they fought to keep up.

His army was weak in comparison to many of the Kingdoms on Gaea. Nothing compared to Freid's thousands of men at arms. But, the paltry thousand three hundred in his command was still a start. Soon, he would be able to wage a world span war of the likes that Gaea had not seen in decades.

The Zaibock Empire had come close to bringing all under its sword, but Folkin and Dornkirk had been far too near sighted in their goals. Faltering at the final moment that would have brought them victory. Dilandau had no intention of repeating their mistakes. Besides, he had no Fate Machine to alter this reality - he had something better. A Seer, and an iron will to insure that his future would come to pass.

Hitomi.

She was his arrow into the heart of Gaea, she that would bring him the victory and place him on his rightful throne as the Emperor of all lands. Such a thin slip of a girl, never would he of believed when he first saw her that she would become so important.

He could remember even now, that first time he'd seen her. The way those innocent emerald eyes had contracted with fear, terror making her small frame tremble. Her hair was so short, and with her wiry figure he couldn't be blamed for at first thinking her to be a boy.

She'd struck him though, and he couldn't deny that he'd wanted her in that moment. Wanted to crush that delicate flower in his fist, hear her scream in pain or pleasure, or perhaps both. The anger he'd felt when Shezar had called her his lover was still hot in his blood. It was a comment that Dilandau vowed to make him pay for making.

He'd has his doubts, from time to time about whether the comment was true. He couldn't deny the certain amount of relief that had flushed through his system that first night they'd been together. The culmination of his, and hers he knew, desire that had festered between them for so very long. With the first thrust, he had known. He was first, last and best to claim her body and soul. Even now he could recall the sheer, sublime joy at that realization.

Hitomi, like it or not, was His. It wasn't love, more of a possessive feeling that surged through his body as his mind's eye conjured the vision of her. Her hair was much longer now, brushing feather light just behind her shoulder blades. She had lost weight since they'd left her world, but it only served to sharpen her cheekbones, draw attention to the fullness of her lips and lush curve of her waist.

Her eyes sparkled for him alone, the sadness and hunger in them enough to drive a man mad. But there was desire there too, whether she would admit it or not, she wanted and needed him. Especially now more then ever. After all, she had never wanted to follow him here - not that he'd given her much choice in the matter. In order for his plan to ripen to its fullest, she was needed. She was the Queen on his board, his most precious piece for victory. Nothing more, and nothing less.

This wasn't about love, this was about war and revenge. There was no room for softness, for sweet pleas of devotion and star-lit wooing even if Dilandau were that sort of man. He saw what he wanted, when he wanted and then it became his. It wasn't arrogance, it was simply the way it was. The way it had always been.

Dilandau licked his lips, digging his heels into his horse. The travel home left too much time for thinking, he decided. He'd have to remedy in her warm embrace...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Several Months Later~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time was flying by.

And yet the sand in the hourglass still felt as though it was going far too slow for Dilandau Albatou's taste.

Kingdoms kept falling under him, more and more men raised their sword into his cause for a unified rule and still it wasn't enough. Months and months of mud and blood and still, still Freid and Fanelia were beyond his grasp.

When he'd left Fanalia had been a run down backwater country, hardly five hundred men at arms. This was not the case any longer. A fact that still made his lip curl in disgust. He had burnt that country to the ground, stamped out every ember of the Dragon people's land. And had they cowered in the dirt like they were meant to?

Of course not. No, that would of been the simple, correct, thing to do. They had dared to rebuild their country, their castle, their way of life. And made it better.It was as though he had never smashed through there with his Dragon Slayers at his side! It was that slight more then anything that irked Dilandau to no end.

He had been very proud of the carnage that he had dealt out to Fanalia, loved that even if he hadn't claimed the boy-king's life - he had still destroied his country. How can one prance about being King if his land was ash and his people stamped out of oblivion?

And Him! That stupid, ignorant little brat had grown up. Dilandau had spies running back and forth from Fanalia daily with updates for him, no matter how small the detail. He had drawings of him, ones that late at night he found himself staring at, his gaze intense enough that Hitomi had commented surprise the paper didn't just burst into flames.

And HER! Did she think he was a fool? That he didn't see the look that passed through her eyes every time he ranted about when he'd finally get his hands on the blasted King! That look of sorrow as her eyes passed over that drawing, that hungry gaze that threatened to swallow it whole!

How dare she still have feelings for him! She was his! And still, she pined over that scrawny, pathetic Vaan Fanel! No, he wouldn't have it! He'd slit the bastard's throat right in front of her, maybe wrap her fingers around the hilt as he drew the blade from ear to ear!

It was almost more then he could bear to be in her presence, knowing that with every far-away look that she was fantasising about his enemy. His hands ached the beat the very life out of her, but more then once he'd held himself back. She was valuable. He couldn't afford to damage her, even if for this betrayal she deserved to bleed buckets over their bedroom floor.

So she paid in other ways. He'd be the first to admit he was more then a little rough during their love making, as she called it. But that didn't really matter. He saw the way her eyes lit up with every smack, every fist of hair pulled, every genuine scream of pleasure. She got off on the pain, whether she'd admit it or not. And more often then not she did, for he wasn't above making her beg.

But no matter what his skilled hands could elicite from her body, her eyes still wandered off into space and he knew, knew with every fiber of his being, that it was him that was occupying her thoughts. And then the rage came back.

He'd thrown himself into the campaign with more vigor then ever before. Knowing that with every drop of blood he shed that he was getting closer and closer to his goal. Dominating Gaea was second now to finally getting his hands around the throat of that little bastard that dared make His Hitomi all misty eyed and thoughtful.

Of course, there was also the fact that he had murdered his beloved Dragon Slayers and cut his face and took away everything from his old life. But somehow all that seemed almost meaningless by comparison. And besides, his Dragon Slayers were strong even in death. They had defeated Vaan from beyond the grave, had enough will to forge their way through worlds and reestablish flesh and blood bodies to walk again next to their Lord. Who knew what price they would pay in the next world for that indiscretion, it didn't really matter. Loyalty to their master came before everything.

Most of his Slayers were out as envoys standing guard over various 'libirated' Kingdoms Dilandau had graciously accepted into his fold. The last one had already sent him a white flag of surrender, hoping the preemptive act would allow them to keep their sovereignty.

As a measure of goodwill, Dilandau had allowed that. In face value only, that is. Dallet was on his way not to insure that King Franco understood that quiet well. Dallet would be calling the shots, under Dilandau of course.

Eight lesser Kingdoms, all within his iron grip now. Six thousand five hundred and fifty-nine men under his command. King Franco's surrender had confirmed what his various spies had been reporting for several weeks now. People were getting wind that the Kingdoms of Lower Gaea were being united, all under and Imperial Order of Unity and Peace. That the Emperor would soon be sending his message of love and tranquility across all lands, and in that way all people would be equal, all would have a fair share and opportunities.

Dilandau was the Patron Saint that sweeping over all lands, though no one really knew who he was yet. Rumors spread like wild fire. That the Gods smiled on him, that he had a deity herself by his side and it was through her that he was raining down this Golden Age. He had divine intervention, righteousness was on his side so he could not fail.

To the fools, the ignorant, the blindly optimistic and the thoughtless Dilandau had swooped through and held them all close to his chest. He was their Champion. People fought better when they had a cause, when they actually believed in what they were doing. Matters of truth and lies were irrelevant to people when faced with a belief that they could hold close. An idea could be changed, but a belief? People fought for it, people died for it...people killed for it. When in the service of the Greater Good, everything became a grey area. There was no price to high.

All he had done was build a fire, they were the ones that lite their torches and ran to set the forest of Freedom ablaze with it. Besides, at this point he needed the support. And, to be honest, he rather enjoyed the many tales of his great mercy and goodness that came to his ear. It had been a long time since he'd found anything quiet as amusing.

Dilandau stared across the small table to Hitomi who was tapping her finger impatiently. A soft smile was on her lips, her gaze for him alone. He relished the small victory, feeling a smirk take his own mouth. He'd be the first to admit she looked beautiful in Rowan attire.

Tightly fit gold cloth was tied around a silver collar the encircled the neck, it was pulled tautly down in two strips of cloth to almost but not quiet cover her breasts, it was cinched at the waist with two silver rings. It was pulled together across to make a long loin cloth that fell down to her knees. Given the humid climate of Rowan, Dilandau wasn't surprised by the scantily clad women that milled about. And besides, any excuse to stare at the promises her body provided. He could pass days simply staring and touching her lilth form.

Gold paint covered her from neck to foot, elaborately drawn black knotework was done in various places on her arms, legs and any other part that was revealed. It looked like an elaborate tattoo. It served another purpose however, it let him know if someone had dared violate his rule and touch what was his. Of course, usually this meant he was covered liberally in the gold paint as well. Not that it really mattered, all that mattered was that to this day he'd not seen a single smudge on her that he had not made.

They were currently playing a game of chess, the move was his. He stared down at the board, he was winning as she was currently down to a rook, 4 pawns, queen and a king. He moved his knight forward, putting her king in check. Fiery orbs raised, amusement sparkling in their depths only to instantly jump into a raging inferno of pure unadulterated anger.

Hitomi's green eyes were focused out the window next to them, a vacant and melancholy look crossing her features as she stared.

Instantly his hands clinched into fists, his right eye twitching with the fury that curled and imploded in his chest. Again. She was thinking about Him.

With a single swipe of his arm he knocked the chess pieces to the ground. The delicate glass figurines shattered instantly upon impact with the stone floor, he barely registered the tinkling sound. Hitomi barely flinched in surprise, her attention snapping forward to him.

Where it should of been, he growled inwardly.

He grabbed her roughly by the arm, nearly dragging her down the hallway in his hast. He shoved through the double doors to their room, barely giving the guards along the way a passing glance. Without a snarl he threw her down onto the bed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to find some form of control and failing.

Hitomi assessed him with those cool, calm emerald eyes of hers. Eyes that always seemed to look all the way down into his soul. Eyes that saw everything, and could hide nothing. As always they seemed to strip most of his anger away, melting it down to mere embers.

Honey hair was spread in a fan against the black silk sheets of his queen size bed. Her skin looked even paler against the dark background, giving her the porcelain look of a doll. She licked her lips slowly, not bothering to even twitch a muscle from where he'd thrown her.

He put a knee down on the bed, crawling to be directly over her. Silver hair carressed her forhead, a single alabaster hand reaching out with more tenderness then he knew he possessed to touch her face. She was so beautiful, so fragile.

He stared down into her eyes, unable to voice or express the rage jealousy had ignited in his breast. His heart was pounding like it was determined to break his chest, and still he could not think of a way to make it stop. He knew that he was fast become irrational where she was concerned and he was fast passing the line where he could explain it away to himself.

Her lips were soft as dewdrops on roses against his and thousand times as sweet. The soft scent of her jasmine perfume filled his senses. He buried his hands into her hair, pouring all the things he would never voice into his touch. Her hands, so small against his chest, reached up to pull him closer, delicate fingers fisting against his lavender tunic.

And for a while, Dilandau thought of nothing else but this single moment of skin against skin, their heartbeats in time and the pleasure of knowing that she was only his.

Bliss.

That was the only feeling rushing through Vaan Fanel at the moment.

It had been a very long time since he had bothered to take Escaflowne out. Much longer still since he had been able to let it take its dragon form and soar above the clouds. Flight had always thrilled Vaan. There was a simple peace to it, a freedom that no horse ride - or worse a carriage ride - could compete with.

Of course, arriving in Freid with his wings unveiled would cause much more of a stir then he desired. And since the meeting was in three days due to his deliberate procrastination of course the only logical action to take to be sure he arrived on time was to ride in Escaflowne.

It had sat in a grand shrine just behind the reconstructed castle silently for the last ten years. Ever since the fall of Zaibock and since the rebuilding of his Ancestral home. Fanalia but even more beautiful now then it had been in his youth. But better still, the lifeblood of his country had flocked back in droves. Many of them had hidden away in the mountains that surrounded Fanalia.

Even now his heart swelled with painful joy at the memory of returning home with Merle. Many of his people had stayed in the caves, others had traveled to other Kingdoms and villages to start a new life. But most had remained, so very sure that their King would return victorious and return them to the land that had been theirs for generations.

Rebuilding had been hard, brutal work. But they had all worked together, he had worked side by side with his people to restore what was theirs. The castle was far larger then it had been before, though he had added the blue rooftops mostly out of nostaliga then anything else. His mother had always been fond of that, said it made the castle look like something out of a story.

Rebuilding had taken five years, even with the help that Allen Shezar had sent. He felt slightly wistful at the thought that he would soon see the older Knight of Cali again. Though he had fought him every inch of the way, the blond haired man had been a mentor to the young King at a time when he had needed it most. After the death of long time teacher Balgus, it had been Allen Shezar that had taught him the flesh and blood meanings to the bone lessons that Balgus had been teaching him since childhood.

This meeting between representatives of Freid, Esgzardia, Austria, Galea, and several other major and minor Kingdoms was more political then anything else. All had heard of the rumblings of Unity to the southern colonies. How could you not? It was all the merchants that came to Fanalia seemed to want to talk about.

It was second even to the rumors of promiscuous behavior by Queen Milerna. Most of which Vaan scoffed at. The girl he remembered was a shade flighty or so, but not quiet the way the rumors made it seem. Peasants were prone to wagging of tongues, and the stories were often more outlandish then the next.

He'd even heard the outragious rumors that a Deity guided the hand of this Imperioral Order of Unity. That this Goddess had the power to see the future, that it was through her that the Emperor was guided and that was why he could not fail.

Vaan had only known one girl that had been clairvoyant enough to see what the future told, so he knew that it didn't take a god or goddess dropping down to Gaea to do it. But he couldn't deny the chill that ran down his spine at the thought of that girl, his Hitomi.

It had been ten long years since he had seen her, if she hadn't returned within the first five years why should she be back now?

Vaan...I'm fine.

Those last words still rang in his ears, the last time he'd truly heard her speak. Not counting that strange dream that had now faded to mere wisps in the back of his mind. It had been a long time, but even time could not erase his feelings for her. Feelings he had been so sure that she had shared.

He'd known, all along, that she would have to return to her world. That she didn't belong here, but Gods above he had wanted her to stay. Or at least return. She would have been his queen, that was partly why he'd worked so hard on making Fanalia better then it had been before. When she came back, saw what he had helped to build...how could she not want to stay then?

He'd be a liar if he said he didn't hope in his heart of hearts that she would come back. That those depth less green eyes would stare into his all aglow with the love and devotion, and he would take her into his arms and hold her tight. She would know then that where she truely belonged was here...with him.

I'm so sorry...

Vaan brushed the memory away impatiently. Though he remembered very little of that dream, he could recall with absolute clarity the memory of her tear stained apology. It had felt as though he'd had his heart wrenched out of his chest.

A nightmare, he chided himself, just a stupid nightmare. It doesn't mean anything! It was all that Vino you just had to have before you went to bed. That's what you get for drinking yourself into a stupor!

Taking a deep breath, Vaan tried and failed to reclaim the serenity that he had begun the day with. He stared hard into the distance of the sun. He could almost make out the tall buildings of Freid on the horizon.

He'd be there before nightfall, they'd find a way to squash the Order before it came knocking on their doors and he would set his heart back to ease as he returned to Fanalia to await the return of his beloved.

Most likely they already had information on this false prophet that was masquerading with the order. His Hitomi wasn't like that, she would never do anything to hurt other people. And had she come back to Gaea, she would have found him immediately. There was nothing else here for her.

That resolve lifted his spirts, the winking short haired girl in his minds-eye tossed him a peace sign and he smiled slightly. She would come back to him. She had to.

End Chapter

A.n.-Well, what'd you think? Do you like how the story's progressing? I have a pretty good idea of how I want it to go, but I'd love to hear your comments on it. What did you think of the Dilandau p.o.v.? I tried very hard to get into his mind...and Vaan? To clishe? ^_^Let me know^_^