The Lady Killer Chapter 25: Requiem, an escaflowne fanfic

The Lady Killer Chapter 25: Requiem

By: Rockeye (aka LaFemme

Disclaimer: I do not own any esca thing's in here. only the parnassus's and artemis are the ones i own. the esca ppl are owned to bandai and sunrise and i will not stand in their way of esca-ownership! I also don't own "Blue Alert" by Madeleine Peyroux.

Litschi This chapter is dedicated to you for your undying support! In response to Artemisia being a bit of a , I understand completely. That was not my intention when I began writing but it turned out that way as I wrote more chapters. I wanted her to be one of those cold-hearted assassins, like a female Dilandau, but I just couldn't bear it! Her fatal flaw is how easily she falls for others or gets emotionally attached to others. For example, she started relationships with Dilandau, Miguel, and Dante after knowing them for only a few days, so I can see how she can appear to come off as a . The way in which the story is being written, she's the naive female assassin that was separated from her family during the war but her character develops and grows. Facing Dilandau again and fighting against Van and the masked assassin in recent chapters helped her develop more. Anyway, I hope this answers any concerns of Artemisia being a . I know this is a dumb question but by , you mean "ho", right?

A/N: Sorry for not updating sooner! I went to visit relatives in Cleveland over the weekend. It was fun because I got to go shop at American stores for a change! There was so much selection! This chapter explores the funeral for the fallen soldiers of Zaibach and how Dante and Folken are related to the Parnassus murders. There is also some afterglow from Dilandau and Artemisia's night together! Haha!

There's perfume burning in the air
Bits of beauty everywhere
Shrapnel flying, soldier hit the dirt

She comes so close
You feel her then
She tells you No and No again
Your lip is cut on the edge of her pleated skirt
Blue Alert

Visions of her drawing near
Arise, abide, and disappear
You try to slow it down
It doesn't work

It's just another night I guess
All tangled up in nakedness
--Madeleine Peyroux, Blue Alert

Sun broke through the clouds and illuminated the morning sky as the Zaibach fortress hovered above Gaia. Two figures lay in bed, their bodies intertwined together in the black sheets. The morning air was crisp and a gentle breeze crept through the curtains and into the room. Dilandau's eyelid fluttered in the direction of the sun, revealing his brilliant garnet irises.

Dilandau held Artemisia in his arms. He bent down and gently caressed her neck with his lips. Her skin was soft and had a sensual fragrance to it. Artemisia stirred in his arms. She woke and turned around to look at him.

"Good morning, Dilandau," Artemisia murmured. She kissed Dilandau on the cheek and playfully tousled his hair with her hands. He caressed her body and kissed her chest. "Stop," she said, irritated, "you'll leave marks." She brushed his hands away and turned to face the sun.

Dilandau rose from the bed and put on his boxers. "I'm going to take a shower now. Get changed, Artemisia," Dilandau said curtly, throwing Artemisia's clothes at her.

With the sheets draped around her body, Artemisia looked up at Dilandau from the bed, leaning on one elbow. "You should take it slower, Dilandau. Don't be so hasty," she said.

Dilandau gazed at her lithe figure silhouetted on the bed. He walked over to where she lay and ran his hand through her hair. He cupped her chin in his hand and kissed her lips. "Just stay in bed," he said, heading toward the bathroom.

The behemoth bed was comforting for Artemisia, despite its intimidating appearance. She rose from the black sheets and looked at the sunlight creeping in from the windows. The previous night had been lovely. Dilandau had been the perfect gentleman to her, a completely different person. She felt a deeper connection between them now, a profound feeling that did not occur even when they were an item previously. Artemisia wondered if the connection between them was based on love or something else. What if he is only infatuated with me? Artemisia thought to herself. Dilandau had told her countless times that he had loved her but was he confusing lust for love?

Artemisia gathered her clothes and slowly put them on. She walked over to his dresser and peered at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was tousled and wavy and her complexion warm. She could still smell Dilandau's masculine aroma on her clothes.

Looking down at his bureau and noticed an open drawer. Out of curiosity, Artemisia opened it and found a small black leather notebook. Imprinted on it were his initials,' D.A.' She realized that what she was holding appeared to be Dilandau's personal journal. She opened the notebook and began sifting through the pages to find the most recent entry:

"Everyone is gone, with the sole exception of Artemisia. She is all I have now. Van defeated us and killed the dragon slayers while they activated the Stealth Cloak. I want to get my revenge. I've never been without my men before and with my comrades deceased, I have to find a new strategy for war. Capturing the Escaflowne will be even more difficult with the dragon slayers. I know it will happen.

The battle put Artemisia in a coma...she still has not woken up. If I lose her, I do not know what would happen to me. I know that I love her. What I feel for her is uncontrollable. I try to look away but I cannot. Everything about her captivates me, her beauty, her smile, the way she battles. Folken tells me that I only lust after her and should stay away. Every time I try to pursue her, I end up hurting her. She is, without a doubt, beautiful. She is the type of woman men can only dream of: her tall, lithe body, her flowing black hair and those amethyst eyes.

When her room was beside mine, I could hear her crying through the walls. A part of me wanted to find out why she was crying while another wanted me to keep my distance. I kept my distance, partly because I wouldn't know what to do had I approached her. I've told her several times that I love her, but i do not think that my affections are being reciprocated. Perhaps I'll show her how feel when she wakes from the coma."

Upon hearing the running water cease, Artemisia quickly placed the book back in its drawer. She walked over to the balcony and gazed upon the earth below. Perhaps Dilandau truly does love me, Artemisia thought to herself.

Dilandau draped a towel around his waist and stood behind Artemisia. He wrapped his arms around her and turned her face toward him. He ran his hands up and down her slim arm. "There's a service today for the dragon slayers in Zaibach," Dilandau informed her. Artemisia felt a tingle down her spine when she heard the words.

She turned around and buried her face in his chest. "Come with me, Dilandau," she whispered quietly, trying to hide the crack in her voice.

"Of course," he said, putting his arms around her waist.

The service began in a peaceful, quiet manner. The church in Zaibach was devoid of warmth and did not suit the occasion at all. It seemed as though the church was erected in a rush, the builders missing the ornate details found in most churches. The walls were solid marble and bare, free of any carvings or sculptures.

Artemisia looked to the front of the church. All but one of the dragon slayers' caskets were in the church, along with framed portraits beside them. Miguel's was to arrive soon.

She dabbed at the tears coming down her cheeks under her black pillbox hat. The small lace veil obstructed her eyes from view. Her black gloved hand grasped Dilandau's arm when she saw pallbearers bring Miguel's casket to the front of the church.

With red roses tucked in her arm, Artemisia rose from the bench and placed them on his closed casket. She kissed her gloved hand and touched the mahogany casket. The kiss was her final goodbye to him and she could not bear to leave him again. He was a good friend and was there when Dilandau was absent. Artemisia stifled the urge to scream for her loss because she had to be composed for today. She returned to her seat, the sound of her heels on the floor echoing throughout the church.

No emotion could be detected on Dilandau's face. His countenance remained the same throughout the service. Artemisia looked at his face several times and yet it remained the same. He looked on at his fallen comrades shedding no tears and doing little to comfort her. He looked on as if there was nothing before him.

Artemisia continued to weep quietly for the remainder of the service.

Although Dilandau gave the appearance of a cold-hearted monster, he was falling apart inside. A storm of fear and vengeance was brewing within. Dilandau tried his best to suppress it by looking on quietly.

Upon returning to the Vione, Dilandau rushed to his bedroom and closed the door behind him. Remembering his promise, he allowed only Artemisia in with him.

"What is wrong with you, Dilandau?! You could have made an effort to show some sort of remorse for their deaths!" Artemisia shouted, enraged. Dilandau's silence had enraged her throughout the service.

Dilandau walked over to his liquor cabinet and poured himself a shot of whiskey from the decanter. His hands shaking, he downed it in no time and went for another. He slammed the glass down on the table and watched it shatter into small shards.

"Dead!" he yelled, finally allowing himself to unleash his emotions. He kneeled down and breathed heavily, tearing off his military jacket and shirt. Burying his head in his hands, he began calming down.

"They're all dead! No one is under my command! I'm alone!!!" he finally said to a shocked Artemisia.

She shook her head. "I am the only one under your command, Lord Dilandau," she reminded him.

"Hmm, yes," he said, a mischievous smile spreading across his lips. "But first, I must take care of something," he added.

A pang of guilt ran through Dante's body as he passed Artemisia's room in the corridor. At least she woke from her coma, he thought to himself. He was the one who had attempted to dispose of her numerous times throughout the year. I just want this to be over. I don't want to be Folken's pet any longer, Dante thought to himself. His thoughts reverted to his days before his involvement in the war. He was happy then, an ultra-wealthy playboy who had everything he could ever ask for. Beautiful women at his side, an immense fortune in his name, and a mansion by the sea were at his every beck and call. The situation he was in now was a stark contrast to the life he had before.

"Dante," said a voice in the hall.

Dante spun around and saw Dilandau. A look of terror rushed over his face. He stood there, speechless.

"Follow me to the interrogation room," Dilandau demanded curtly.

Dante did as he was told, trying to calm himself down while he walked through the hall. Dilandau is just a child compared to me, he noted. Even so, he still was somewhat petrified of him.

The two entered the interrogation room. Folken never told me about this, Dante thought to himself. The interrogation room resembled a dungeon with concrete walls, a cellar door with a small window, and a cold damp floor. It was a rather depressing room with a small table in the center and two chairs at each end. He stood up straight and sat before Dilandau at the small table in the center.

"Perhaps you're wondering why you're here," Dilandau started after seating himself. "I want to know what you feel for Artemisia," he said casually, leaning back in the chair.

Dante shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not going to answer that question. Why would you want to know, anyway?" Dante responded, his hands crossed on the table.

"It's a simple question. I'm not recording anything here, so no need to worry," Dilandau said, trying to calm Dante down.

"She means nothing to me," he finally said. "We had what you could call an affair about a year ago, but it never really progressed after we...," he trailed off. It was not terribly difficult for him to lie. He continued to lie, "It was mostly physical and in the end, we knew that we weren't meant for each other."

Dilandau's garnet eyes flashed when he heard Dante utter the latter. He began playing with his dagger, sheathing and unsheathing it. "You slept with Artemisia?" Dilandau asked frankly.

"Yes," Dante lied.

Suddenly, Dilandau stood up and stabbed the dagger into the table. "You're lying," he said with a sneer. "All she wants to do is avoid you," he added, noting Artemisia's uncomfortable encounter with Dante when he first arrived on the ship.

"It did not really end that well. Do you have any more questions, Lord Dilandau?" Dante inquired, his voice more confident now.

"Yes, in fact I do," Dilandau said with a smile. Now I am going to find out if Dante really is Folken's puppet, he thought to himself. He seated himself back into the chair, fingering the dagger on the table.

A/N: That's all for now, folks! School will be starting up again next week, so I won't be able to update at often. I know, I know, I crossed some borders when writing this chapter to put the M rating to reach its full potential. Anyway, hope y'all had a Happy New Year!

In the next chappie, Dilandau is going to find out who the real masked assassin is! Battles and arguments will insue and a main character may or may not die. We will also get into the minds of Folken and Christabelle. Finally! See y'all then!