Author's Note: Hey! So sorry for the long wait. I know I said this would be the epilogue, but since the whole thing ended up being over 70 pages long, I ended up dividing it into three parts that I an posting separately. I'm calling it the last chapter, and a 2 page epilogue will follow. It's all done, so no more long waits :). Thank you for sticking with me all this time; I hope you enjoy the chapter :). Everybody who has had a POV in this story has a POV in this long chapter lol.
Sniff...sniff... it's done. Severd is actually done. Well... without further sniffling from me, I present the Last Chapter: Part 1, lol
Chapter 32: Part 1
"They're back in countable pieces!"
Van opened his eyes. Folken stood in front of him with his hands on Van's shoulders and Gatty, Dallet, Pearce and Hitomi were in a circle around them. Where were they? It looked like a big cellar. The circle broke and Folken's hands left his shoulders. New people crowded around them, Shesta, Viole, Miguel, Guimel, the woman doctor and... and Dilandau. What was he doing here?
The woman doctor stood in front of Folken with her hands on her hips, glaring at him. "Well?"
"He's dead," Folken said. "Pearce killed him and Van destroyed his machine. It's over."
Van figured that Folken and the woman were together, so he expected them to kiss; he didn't expect for the woman to smack Folken over the head and turn her back to him. Folken looked bewildered; he stammered, "Ah...Marie, I'm sorry that you were worried and that I went to do something you didn't approve of."
"It's not that, you idiot," Marie grumbled. Folken looked nervous about touching her. Van watched his brother's mouth twitch as he reached out to catch Marie's arm. Marie didn't brush him off; she let Folken pull her back into his chest. He held her there, not saying anything for a long time.
"Lord Dilandau, I've decided that you're going to be dyeing our sails red and painting blue-eyed, winged, silver dragons on them. Also, the interior of our boat will have to be..."
Van frowned. The Slayers had assembled behind Van. He was in the middle of, but still on the outside of, the group. Folken, Marie and Pearce were on one side, and the Dragonslayers were on the other. He turned to see Dilandau surrounded by his friends and blinking at Dallet in confusion.
"Dallet, what are you talking about?"
"The boat Guimel and me are building, or rather I'm building. You owe me big time for having me in there talking to a damn, wig-wearing ghost. I didn't use my sword once."
"A wig-wearing ghost?" Shesta asked.
"Oh yeah, the Emperor came back as a ghost after Pearce sliced his head clean off his shoulders. Pearce is bad ass. You should have seen him, but like I was saying, he chopped off the Emperor's head and the guy came back as a ghost. He stepped out of this puff of smoke and started talking to us. You wouldn't believe his hair."
"I can't believe you're describing what we saw today like that," Gatty said, then shook his head. "No wait, I can."
"Well, how would you describe it, Gatty, or can you? Gatty looked ready to shit bricks the entire time."
"Hey, you were scared when that machine started glowing and spitting out lightning too. The ghost didn't help matters, especially when he started talking about war and the end of the world brought about by man's selfish wishes. And then she–Hitomi started humoring the crazy man and both of them went on about being able to see the battlefield from where we were. Then Van burst in out of nowhere..."
"On wings, no less. Folken's got wings too," Dallet interrupted. "Then the machine busted and we all started floating."
"Van burst in?" Dilandau asked.
"Yeah," Dallet said with a grin. He pointed at Van over Dilandau's shoulder and Van's eyes widened. Had Dilandau not noticed he was there? That wasn't a good sign when it came to the question Van had asked him earlier. Van cleared his throat and moved closer to the Slayer circle as Dilandau followed Dallet's finger. He turned, blowing silver hair out of his eyes to squint at Van.
"He came in on wings you say?" Dilandau asked, studying Van.
Van stood up straighter, trying to seem confident though he was shaking.
"Yeah," Dallet said.
"Like your brother," Dilandau said with a nod. Van let out a sigh. Dilandau wasn't bothered by him being half-Draconian. Dilandau already knew about Folken. That was yet another thing Van would thank Folken for. But now...
Dilandau moved toward him and stopped a few inches away. A pale hand reached out to stroke Van's chest, and Van looked down to see Dilandau tracing the lines of the garden on his torso. "Do you really want to make this into something that won't wash off after a few weeks?"
Van frowned. Dilandau's fingers stopped on the swing set.
"I've never done anything like this before, so it might not turn out exactly how you want, but I'm always up for a challenge. Should we set a date?"
Dilandau's eyes met Van's. They shone with mischief and a fondness that made Van smile so hard his cheeks hurt. Was Dilandau saying yes? Was he saying that he liked Van and wanted to try to have something more with him?
"Dilandau?"
Dilandau chuckled and gave Van a push with the index finger still planted in his torso. "Ah, I'm no good with romance and things like that, Van. I don't know much about it, but I know I like you, so, if you can bear with me..."
Van laughed, reaching out to pull Dilandau into a hug. The taller boy crashed into him with an 'oof' and Van squeezed him tight. He let go when Dilandau struggled against him. Dilandau pulled away from Van, a blush tinting his cheeks and Van felt sheepish. "Sorry. I've just been daydreaming about this for a while, you know? I'm excited. I–don't know much about romancing people either. I'm new to it too, so we can figure it out together. It could be fun. I used to ask Allen for advice, but he's– "
"Allen?" Dilandau's eyes were twice their usual size. "You talked to Allen about–this?"
Van nodded. Didn't Dilandau like Allen now? Allen liked Dilandau enough to call him 'brother', all in a matter of days. "He's helped me a lot, until recently. Does that bother you?"
Dilandau didn't look good. "What did he say about it recently?"
"That you're his little brother and that I had to stay away. Hey, are you ok?"
"And what did you say?"
"That he was crazy. He called you his brother, he called that crazy Valeska his sister, but... I saw him and Valeska together, before I– went to deal with the Emperor. They look alike, those two. They hugged and talked, and looked alike, but you know... when Valeska stood alone, for a moment, I thought she was you. You look like them too."
Dilandau stared at him. "You saw them, before you did whatever you did to end up where these guys were, and they were ok?"
Van nodded, trying to read the expressions warring across Dilandau's face. His eyes blinked rapidly, long lashes fluttering, color left his cheeks, but a dazzling smile gave one a dimple Van hadn't noticed before. Dilandau tossed his head back and laughed, really laughed and Van's breath caught in his throat. Gods...
This beautiful person wanted to learn about romance with Van? The Emperor's machine responded to the emotions of others. Had it heard Van's desire over everyone else's and granted him his wish, before it overloaded? There was no other way someone like Dilandau could...
Dilandau punched Van in the chest, still laughing. His eyes were wet, droplets of water caught in his lashes. He grinned at Van, biting his lower lip and Van felt something ripple in his chest, spreading from his middle to his fingers and toes. He punched Dilandau back, lightly and was still as the other boy pulled him into a hug. A fine tremor ran throughout Dilandau's body and Van frowned, rubbing Dilandau's back.
He wasn't well yet. Wasn't he supposed to be in his room?
"Aw..."
Van rolled his eyes. He'd only had eyes and ears for Dilandau for a few moments, now he was forced to acknowledge their audience. Van let go of Dilandau and Guimel took Dilandau's shoulders from behind, purring in Dilandau's ear.
"You know, milord, you're going to have to kiss him back sometime. Will you be needing lessons? I know some great kissers."
Van found himself surrounded by Slayers who wanted to slap him on the back and ruffle his hair. He also noticed Viole and Shesta keeping their distance from Dilandau, staying on one side of Van. What was that about?
"So... Lord Dilandau, you and Van should have your first date on our boat," Dallet said, "after you fix it up all nice."
"No, Lord Dilandau and Van's first date will be in a nice restaurant," Miguel said, "with classical music and..."
"No, they should do something fun. Maybe they could go..."
"Ahem!" Dilandau pushed away congratulating hands. "I have an idea. Let's go to the comm and see what's happening outside. If everything's all clear, let's go out and see if we can help with anything. I want to catch Allen and Celena..."
"I have a better idea." Dr. Marie's voice sounded over the crowd. She appeared behind Van and Dilandau. "How about we see what's happening outside, and then Dilandau goes the hell back to his room, before I embarrass him by having him manhandled there."
Dilandau's mouth opened and closed in outrage. "Marie..."
"You've been up and about long enough. Sir Allen and Celena will come to you."
Dilandau groaned and Van's heart fluttered at his pout. Van slung an arm around Dilandau's shoulders. "I'll walk you to your room after this."
Dilandau sighed, but nodded.
"And while we're walking, you can tell me the deal between you, and Allen, and Valeska who I think turned out to be Celena, who's Allen's sister, who he said was your sister, which would make him your brother, but he already said that. I'm lost, but you guys really do look a lot alike. What's going on?"
Dilandau rested some of his weight on Van.
"Lord Dilandau, you said Celena was your twin sister, now Van's saying she's Schezar's sister too? And what's this about the Valeska bitch turning out to be Celena?" Dallet asked.
"Schezar's been pretty weird. He said he was Lord Dilandau's brother? But you guys hated each other. There's no way you could be related. You haven't even known each other for a year," Gatty said.
"Van's right, they look alike." Shesta sounded thoughtful.
"They do some things alike too." Viole sounded amused.
"Lord Dilandau, tell us what's going on." Guimel was clearly annoyed.
"Now?" Dilandau looked exhausted.
"Well, maybe not now, if you're too tired, but preferably before we go gray," Guimel said.
"And sprout pin curls," Dallet uttered and Gatty snickered.
More of Dilandau's weight rested on Van's shoulders and Van shifted, then frowned as some of the weight was relieved. He glanced over to see Hitomi on the other side of Dilandau, taking one of his arms.
"I helped you down here, it would only be polite for me to help you back up."
Van stared at the girl. She was pale, but her face was soft and kind. She winked when Van caught her eye and smiled lightly. She gazed at Dilandau and nodded at Van. "I guess my 'I love you' came too late."
Van looked down at his feet briefly.
"But it's ok. I can't stay anyway, and you need someone who can be here for you."
Dilandau peered at Hitomi curiously. "What 'I love you'?"
"One that never should have been," Hitomi told him lightly. "You're not going to pass out are you?"
"No," Dilandau said crossly. "I'm just tired and people keep asking me stupid questions." Dilandau raised his voice on the last statement, catching the attention of his Slayers again.
"Well, we wouldn't ask them if you'd tell us simple shit from the start," Guimel snorted.
"Yeah, I for one would like to know what's going on with my best friend, before I hear about it in the castle gossip," Gatty said.
"Oi, Lord Dilandau's my best friend!" Viole pumped his fists.
"No, he's mine," Shesta argued.
Dilandau groaned again, and Van squeezed his shoulder. "Oh, enjoy it. You're loved."
Dilandau chuckled. "By knuckleheads. All right, everyone shut up, and I'll tell you what you want to know after we listen to the radio and someone, preferably Gatty or Folken, tells us what happened with Dornkirk. But you guys have to promise not to interrupt me until I'm done. This is a long complicated story that I'm not so sure I understand myself in a lot of places."
The Crusade. What a retarded name for a warship. Wait, it wasn't a warship, it was a leviship equipped for battle, but not solely built for the task. Celena blew curls that had escaped a makeshift ponytail out of her eyes as she stared over the railing of the 'leviship equipped for battle'. She scowled at the way Allen seemed to be handling her with kid proof gloves. If she looked over her shoulder, she knew she'd see him watching her out of the corner of his eye as he spoke to a tall dark-haired man. He had a name, but Celena had forgotten it, as she did with most things she didn't care about.
Little people and busted melefs dotted the battlefield as far as Celena could see. She stretched her hand out and shut one eye, pretending to smash the scene below with her fingers and wipe out the aftermath of a war she hadn't really fought, one in which the wrong name for her would be recorded in text books. But who cared? That name would be hated without fear. Celena didn't think she would mind being hated, so long as those that hated her knew to keep their distance.
She lowered her head and closed her eyes. Valeska had been a failure; Celena had been a failure. Grasping the last few months was hard. She remembered them vividly; she was there, but how could she have not known her family? She'd fought both Dilandau and Allen and felt nothing for them. Though, she had known something was wrong each time she touched swords with one of them.
If she could reach back in the past and slap herself, she would have. She'd been a crazy bitch. Semi-remembering stuff and freaking out when she couldn't figure out what the hell it was she was trying to remember. It had been frustrating, and now, it was all back, just like that. All it took was Jajuka yelling at her to remember. Why couldn't she have done that herself? Why did she need someone else's help for something as stupid as that?
For the same reason she'd lost to Dilandau and Van and had attacked Allen from behind, she was weak.
She chuckled to herself, feeling warm tears building behind her eyes. She kept her eyes squeezed shut. Those tears weren't getting out. Warlords didn't cry. They got stronger. They looked at what they did wrong and they learned to do it right. That was what Dilandau did, though he never really did anything wrong. It had been too damn dangerous to make mistakes when Celena had been with him. It had taken both of them to get out of some of the situations they'd been put in by their masters.
Celena always thought Dilandau was the one that wouldn't be able to make it on his own. She was the strong one, the real fighter, the mastermind behind him. He needed her. She was convinced the sorcerers let her twin brother have the body, because he was a boy, pure and simple. She was determined to prove herself through him and after they'd been separated.
It turned out to be the other way around. Dilandau was better than she was. He was smarter, stronger, and more respected. Everything she'd chewed him out over was something she'd failed at. She'd failed at being a leader and a soldier, where he excelled. The men on Len's ship walked by, pretending not to stare at her, while chatting about how the whole war would have gone to shit if Dilandau, creepy ass Folken, and their Slayers hadn't been on Astoria's side.
Their Slayers, Celena still thought of them as that. She'd been there when they were trained. She'd helped. She had handpicked some of them. She wondered if they noticed when she'd gone, if they missed the parts of her that shone through Dilandau. Would they recognize her in a way when she stood before them again? Would they even know she'd stood before them, or would they only see her as Dilandau's sister?
How much did they know? Dammit, she hoped Dilandau hadn't told them about her yet. She wanted to be there to defend herself. She didn't trust Dilan as far as she could throw him not to make her sound like a bitch. If he remembered her being a bitch to him.
She thought back to the last time she'd really spoken to Dilandau. He'd been lying on a table in the Madoushi's lab, looking like Death warmed over twice. Every time his chest had risen and fallen, Celena had breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't like to see him like that. It made her feel strange, protective and maybe–heaven help her–motherly. That was her little brother and he was helpless without her. She'd been so gentle with him, because he'd needed gentle. He had been so out-of-it. He hadn't known who she was. She had to introduce herself like some stranger. He'd seemed happy enough to know she was his sister, but it was a fuzzy happiness.
Did he even remember them being together, or did he just remember the girl he met in the Madoushi's lab? What was he going to expect from her, and hell, what did she expect from him? She'd never truly met him outside of herself, not under the influence of Madoushi cocktails or battle induced adrenaline.
The wind whipping against her face was loud, but not loud enough for her to miss the sound of boots approaching and stopping once they'd neared her instead of moving on. A hand ghosted her shoulder and the scent of sweat over cologne hit her.
"Hey Len."
"Hi."
She looked at her older brother. The tall man was looking out into the horizon, the sun setting his hair aglow. Celena bet women dropped their panties for him at first glance. How many nieces and nephews did she have? She hoped Allen knew she didn't do babies, and to keep them away from her.
"Thinking about Dilandau?"
"Of course I'm thinking about Dilandau," Celena said. "I'm just now realizing I've never really met him face to face, aside from that time he was drugged to the gills. He already proved he doesn't need me. What if he doesn't like me?"
Allen snorted. "Celena, he wanted to come out himself and help me get you back. If you had seen him then Celena, so thin and unsteady on his feet, demanding that he be at my side, you would know how much– "
"He likes the idea of me," Celena said. "I don't know if he remembers our time together, Allen. I don't know how much the Madoushi took from him. They wanted him to forget me, I bet."
Allen shook his head. "He remembers our house and Mama and the garden. The memories come to him as dreams, but they're there. I'm sure he'll remember more in time."
"And when he does, and then decides he doesn't like me?"
Allen frowned. "Why do you think he won't like you?"
Celena shrugged. "I wasn't the best person in the world to share space with."
Allen snorted. "Tell me something I don't know."
Celena's fist shot out, aiming for Allen's left kidney. The jerk anticipated the attack and moved.
"When you were a little girl, you always hit low. I thought it was because you were so short."
"The most painful places to hit a man are lower on the body," Celena said, gazing at Allen's crotch meaningfully. "Try me again."
Allen smirked. "I think I'm content." He moved closer to her again and leaned on the rail a bit. "Celena, don't worry about Dilandau. He'll love you regardless. I love you regardless. There are lots of things we're going to have to forgive each other for, all of us. Dilandau used to hate me and the feeling was mutual, but we grew on each other, and now that we know who we are to each other, everything's falling into place for us. I bet it'll fall into place easier for you."
Celena inched her hand close to Allen's on the rail. "Nothing's easy."
Allen's hand covered hers. "You're right, nothing is, but we'll do our best to keep anything from being too hard. We're a family now, Celena; you, Dilandau and I, are a team. I don't know what our future holds, but we're going to be together. Nothing's ever going to take you two away from me again. So, I guess what I'm saying is he's going to have to learn to love you if he already doesn't, because he's stuck with you. So, no worries Celena, all right?"
Celena laughed, turning her hand over to clutch Allen's. "That's your solution, Len? No worries?"
Allen grinned at her, long hair billowing in the wind. He looked like the teenager she remembered him as during one of his rare periods of good humor.
"You've turned into a big kid."
"Maybe because I'm getting the chance to be one. Celena, everything that was weighing me down is lifted. I've found you, I've found Dilandau, Mother's... I know Mother's at peace, and I can forgive Father. I blamed how badly my life turned out on him, but now it's not so bad after all. I've got my siblings together and we're going to do what Mother would have wanted."
"Plant roses?"
"Take care of each other." Allen rolled his eyes at her.
Celena stuck her tongue out at him. Then looked back out at the horizon. She could see a castle in the distance. "How do you know Mother's at peace?"
Mother was dead. She'd died a long time ago, Celena knew. She'd died thinking she'd lost Celena–and Dilandau– Mother had known Dilandau was there. Celena knew she did.
"Dilandau told me."
"Dilan? But how..."
"Why don't you ask him, when you see him? Now, let's go inside the cabin and sit. Kyo's piloting, and you do not want to be standing when he makes a landing."
"Noted."
Bone marrow and blood looked very similar when suspended over his head in a clear bag. Dilandau lay on his back with his arms folded over his chest, staring at the thick liquid dangling from the IV pole. Marie had decided to start the transplant once Dilandau was situated in his room again. She told him, as she exchanged a bag of clear preparative medication with one full of red marrow, that some bone marrow was yellow, but that all bone marrow started off red at birth. As people grew, fat accumulated in the body and turned half the marrow yellow.
Disgusting.
Certain places in the body held the different colored marrows, red in flat bones, yellow in long bones. Dilandau was glad Marie had pulled the marrow from Allen's hip. He didn't know if he could watch yellow crap drizzling into his system. Though, he hadn't appreciated Dallet's comment about being full of butt juice. Dallet had gotten quite bold since his spiritual encounter. Something was going to have to be done about that. Dilandau would have to talk with Viole.
Dilandau heard the curtain shielding the door being drawn over the beeping of the heart monitor Marie and Folken and dragged in from the lab, but didn't bother to sit up. He'd been off the preparative drugs for nearly two hours and he still felt sick. He thought it would be out of his system by now, but he'd thrown up on Van only a half hour ago, so him lying down was probably in the best interest of his company.
Gah. He'd thrown up on Van. How embarrassing, but Van was a good man. He had rubbed Dilandau's back, changed shirts, went and wet a towel to clean Dilandau up, and asked if Dilandau felt better. Then Folken had come in and kicked Van out, so Dilandau could take a nap.
A nap, like Dilandau was really going to take a nap while waiting for Allen and Celena to return. Watch me sleep with my eyes open, Folken.
"How are you feeling?"
Folken stood over him, holding a blue bowl. The porcelain sweated and a cold drop of water hit one of Dilandau's arms, wetting his sleeve.
"Like I'll throw up, if I try to sit up. Am I supposed to feel this nauseous?"
"Side effects from the preparative treatment can last up to two weeks, Dilandau. If you wouldn't have moved around so much today, it wouldn't be this bad. You'll be all right." Folken set the bowl down, and reached over to tap the IV bag. The small amount of fluid left in the bag sloshed around. Dilandau expected Folken to produce another bag of marrow from the bowl, but instead, he checked Dilandau's vitals, then unbuttoned Dilandau's pajama shirt.
"Are you ready to stop the drip?"
Dilandau raised his brows. "Already?"
Folken nodded. "It's a short procedure."
Much shorter than a blood transfusion. Dilandau had fallen asleep during that, which was good. Marie removed the needle while he was comatose. Dilandau's eyes widened. "Hey, you're not thinking about doing this yourself are you? Where's Marie?"
Folken scowled. "Dilandau, I am perfectly capable of..."
"Yeah, like you were perfectly capable of inserting that IV port?" The IV port disaster had left Folken baffled and Dilandau short a half pint of blood. Well, maybe not quite a half pint, but a lot of blood had gushed out. Although, it might have been worth it to see Red Witch all worked up. She'd called Folken names Dilandau hadn't heard before and threw him out of the lab. Marie had referred to Folken as "Big Stupid" for a week.
Folken flushed at Dilandau's mention of the port and bristled. "You were squirming and making me nervous. And, for your information, unhooking a line from a catheter is much easier than that. Now, hold still."
Dilandau went limp as the man fumbled with the small contraption embedded in his chest. He heard something click and then felt a slight tug as the line was removed.
"See there. Easy." Folken cleaned the catheter and the skin around it with antiseptic and a white cloth he pulled from the bowl. Then, he slipped the monitor off his finger. The machine beside them wailed for a moment, before Folken pulled its plug. "Now, I'll get this IV and monitor out of the way, so your guests won't trip over them."
Dilandau buttoned his shirt. "Guests?"
Folken smiled. "I'll tell them they can come in now. They followed me to the door, and I asked them to wait outside while I did this."
Dilandau's skin tingled as he sensed a familiar aura. "F–Folken, is it them?" Dilandau tried to sit up, but stopped mid-attempt at black and red swirls of vertigo. Please don't puke. His stomach should be empty; it had to be after all the crap he'd spat up on Van. Poor guy. Dilandau hoped the maids could get the stains out of his shirt; it looked new.
Folken placed a hand behind his back, undoubtedly thinking Dilandau needed help sitting up.
"No, no, no. Too fast. Too fast."
Folken stopped, holding Dilandau in a partially upright position. Dilandau took a few deep breaths. He tasted something warm and sour at the back of his throat.
This is more disgusting than yellow marrow.
Dilandau felt a depression on the bed and the warmth of Folken's body at his side. Dilandau leaned on the man, resting against his chest. Folken wore one of the new cloaks Dilandau had bought for him. The royal purple cloth was soft and smelled of sterile soap and vanilla perfume. Dilandau smirked.
"Marie's been in this cloak, has she?"
Folken cleared his throat and ruffled Dilandau's hair. "I left it in her room and she put it in her closet. Everything smells like perfume in there."
"You've disrobed in Marie's room?"
Folken grunted. "Have you disrobed in Van's room?"
Dilandau laughed. "Many times, and I've left there smelling like him too. I borrowed his shower and used his soap after all. It was all perfectly innocent, Folken. What are you insinuating passes between your brother and me?"
Folken coughed and shifted, hand leaving Dilandau's hair and resting on his back. "Nothing really. Neither one of you are ready for anything..."
"...that you and Marie are doing?"
"What me and Marie do behind closed doors..."
"You guys are intimate?"
If Dilandau could see Folken's face right then, he would bet it was red. It was so funny to think of Folken blushing. Folken was in love. Dilandau snaked an arm around Folken, the man he thought of as a big brother. The man who had a real little brother Dilandau was now involved with. Was that weird for Folken?
Van said it was weird for Allen, Dilandau's real big brother. Dilandau frowned. He wouldn't trade Folken for the world, but he actually had someone who had to love him unconditionally now. Would his relationship with Folken have to change because of it?
"Nothing changes between us, Dilandau."
Dilandau started. Had Folken hidden telepathy along with his wings?
"Our family is just a bit bigger, that's all. Someone told me that it isn't unheard of for people to have more than one sibling."
"And how do you feel about me dating your other little brother? Isn't that kind of gross?"
Dilandau yelped. Folken freakin' pinched him! "I try not to think of it that way, Dilandau."
"How do you think about it?" If both Folken and Allen disapproved of the relationship, wouldn't pursuing it be a bad idea after all? Dilandau didn't know if he could take back what he said to Van, because of someone else's feelings, but if Folken and Allen were uncomfortable with it, he didn't know. One side of him screamed, Screw them all, and the other side said, Family first. But... Van was family according to Folken.
Folken sighed. "I think about it as both you and Van being happy, and that makes me happy. It helps that I know and trust you both, so I don't have to worry about my younger siblings bringing someone home I hate."
Dilandau blinked at the simplicity of Folken's answer. In the face of so much complication, one of the most complex people Dilandau knew was being carefree. He chuckled. Marie was really rubbing off on Folken. "You sure that's all you think?"
"I'm sure, Dilandau. You should worry more about what Allen thinks," Folken said. "From what I've heard, he's not happy."
Dilandau groaned and pulled his face from Folken's cloak to look up at him. Who knew, Allen might surprise him as Folken had, but with his nerves in mind, "I don't think I'll be talking about that with him today. Folken, how do they look?"
"How do they look?"
"Bubbly and blond? Serious and stately? Nervous as hell?"
Folken glanced at him. "They look clean. I believe they showered before they came up. I'll tell them to come in, and you can judge the rest for yourself."
Dilandau gripped Folken. Suddenly, he didn't want the man to leave. It was funny how he had been ready to rush out and meet Celena and Allen on the battlefield a couple of hours earlier, but now he was ready to sink into the mattress. What was it? Did he not want Celena to see him this way? What if she didn't like him?
"Folken, what if Celena doesn't like me?"
"What's not to like?" Folken asked.
Dilandau bit his lip. Well, Allen hadn't liked him at first, but Dilandau guessed that didn't count. They'd been enemies then, and Dilandau did burn down his castle for the hell of it. "Stay?"
Folken's smile was light and his eyes were warm. He shook his head. "This is your moment. Swallow your nerves and please don't throw up on your guests. Has the dizzy spell passed yet?"
Dilandau glared at Folken and the man took it as a yes. Next thing Dilandau knew, Folken had him sitting completely upright with pillows propped behind his back. Dilandau grimaced as organs resettled themselves. "I really feel like shit, Folken. Are you sure...?"
"We warned you to take it easy," Folken said. "There's no fever, and no other signs of infection; you're fine."
Dilandau growled as the man took his pole and wheeled it out of the room, waving at him before he passed through the curtain. Bastard.
The curtain flipped open again and Allen stepped in. His hair looked damp and was pulled back in a high ponytail. He turned and reached back through the curtain to grab something. "Stop being ridiculous! He won't–as you say hate your guts for trashing a dumpy village."
Dilandau raised a brow. Trashing a dumpy village? Dallet's village? Did Celena remember her time as Valeska?
Allen was really struggling. He grunted and was pulled back through the curtain. Celena was talking now, her voice made him tense, saying something Dilandau couldn't make out. Miniature crashes told of things being batted off the sterilizing stations by flailing limbs.
Dilandau tapped his knees. Celena was afraid to come in and see Dilandau because she thought he'd hate her?
He giggled, giddiness laced his nausea. He and Celena were afraid of the same thing. How stupid were they? Dilandau steeled himself. He was getting up to help Allen, even if he had to take the basin Marie had put on the floor by the bed with him to throw up in. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and put his feet on the floor.
The room inverted slightly. Not letting his eye cross, Dilandau made his way to the curtain. How to go about this? He wondered. Marie and Folken had relaxed the rules about people wearing smocks and masks when they entered, so long as they washed their hands and faces before coming in and wore gloves. Dilandau was the one restricted to wearing masks, gloves, and robes if he left the boundary of the curtain. Should he gown up before helping Allen?
The curtain bulged and Allen's backside came through. Dilandau grinned and tapped his shoulder. Allen gasped and nearly fell backward into Dilandau as he let go of what he was pulling.
"Dilandau, what are you doing? Get back in bed!" Allen advanced on Dilandau, whose eyes widened. Allen grabbed at him, looking ready to sweep Dilandau up in his arms.
"I was just..."
"Dilandau's out of bed? That little..."
The rungs screeched across the curtain rod as the veil was thrown open. Celena stood there dressed in one of Allen's shirts and a pair of ill-fitted slacks. Her blue eyes blazed and her hair, wet like Allen's, was a messy tornado of ringlets. Her face was heart-shaped and her lips were semi-full. She was the beautiful young woman Dilandau had seen that day in the Madoushi's lab, the one that had been so sweet and soft-spoken, on steroids. The features were the same, but the expression and the posture were alien. This girl's stance and aura, while familiar, were those of a fighter, someone he identified with.
This was the real Celena. That other person he'd met had been an act.
"Celena." Dilandau fended off Allen's hands as the man tried to pick him up.
"Dilandau."
Celena came to stand in front him, faces inches apart. They were the same height, eyes level with one another's. They stood alike and wore matching calculating expressions. "You fight like shit," Dilandau said.
"You look like shit," Celena retorted.
They scowled and folded their arms over their chests, challenging the other to blink first.
"Celena? Dilandau?" Allen sounded anxious.
Celena's brow twitched and Dilandau bit the side of his lip. Celena laughed first and pulled him into a hug that rivaled the one Van had given him earlier. Why did everyone want to knock the wind of out him today? He ignored the pain and wrapped his arms around her too, resting his chin on her shoulder. Wet curls brushed his cheek and loose pins in her borrowed garments scratched at his arms. She was thin and lightly muscled; her body was cool and smelled clean.
"You're so damn scrawny. What the hell have you been doing to yourself?" Celena murmured in his ear. "It looks like you need me to take care of you after all."
"Not fighting like an amateur. What the hell Celena? I might have recognized you sooner, if you'd given me more of a challenge. Please don't tell me you trained those losers you fought with," Dilandau murmured back.
"Shut the hell up," Celena snapped. I love you.
"Kiss my ass," Dilandau purred. I love you too.
Dilandau pulled away, and Celena caught his face in her hands, light blue eyes searching and concerned. "Are you ok? Len says you've been really sick."
Dilandau nodded. "I'm ok, or I'm going to be. Though, I might not feel like it right now." His stomach gurgled. Dilandau was wrong to ever compare his life to books where predictable formulas were the key to success. In his life, kisses tasted like fish dinners and touching reunions involved name calling and bouts of vomiting. "I've gotta throw up. You guys do what you want."
Dilandau patted Celena's shoulder and turned in the direction of the bathroom. Hands squeezed his shoulders as Allen came to stand behind him. "Let me help you."
"I'll get you a glass of water or something," Celena said, sounding flustered.
Allen pushed Dilandau into the bathroom, kneeling down beside him and smoothing Dilandau's hair out of the way before he retched.
Romance, adventure, fantasy, mystery and science fiction were overrated. The Schezars were a genre of their own.
"What do you think they're talking about? They've been in there for hours."
Guimel looked at Viole. Of course he'd be the one to break the silence among the group. All six of them sat in Viole's room, Guimel in the window sill, apart from the group, while everyone else was crowded on Viole's bed.
Viole sat in the middle of the cluster with the comforter over his legs and a quilt over his shoulders. "It's gotta be really awkward. What if they're just in there staring at each other?"
"I doubt that," Gatty said. "You know how Lord Dilandau gets when he's been kept waiting. I bet he's all over them."
"This is different," Viole said. "This is–is new to him. He's got a family and a life to learn about now, all at once. He seemed excited, but scared, really scared. I wish I could be there with him, or at least had been allowed in the room until they came."
Miguel rubbed Viole's back. "Van was with him."
"Yeah, and Lord Dilandau spewed all over him." Dallet chuckled. "You should have seen him, Vi. He had pink porridge all over his fancy blue shirt and was still smiling like a lovesick chump. I probably should have gone in to check on Lord Dilandau, but Van looked so happy I didn't want to mop up any messes His Majesty might have wanted to clean."
"They're going to be funny," Shesta said. "Van and Lord Dilandau. They're going to be the most atypical couple ever. I know they are two guys in a relationship, but isn't one supposed to be a bit more... feminine... than the other?"
"You're right." Dallet scratched his head, ruffling his shaggy hair. "One's gotta be the girl, but I don't see either one of them being thrilled about that. How's it gonna work with both of them trying to open doors and throw jackets over mud puddles and shit?"
There were nervous titters and silence again.
Guimel glanced behind him out the window. It was getting dark, the sky turning peach and gold before a midnight blue settled over the land. White tents had been pitched over the courtyard, functioning as temporary first aid clinics for soldiers with mild to moderate injuries. Marie was in charge of the operations indoors for the critically injured men, and she'd gravitated between them and Lord Dilandau until she'd fully set up the transplant apparatus and made sure Folken couldn't screw anything up.
After leaving the big basement Folken kept his junk in, and hearing Lord Dilandau's... story... everyone thought it'd be best for Van to stay with him, while they talked things over. No one actually said it, though. No one wanted anyone to think that what they knew might bother them.
It didn't bother Guimel, not the part that should anyway. He didn't care about Lord Dilandau sharing a body with his sister and that he was physically made by Zaibach's magic. All that mattered was that Lord Dilandau was a real person, always had been, and when he was someone Guimel hadn't liked, it wasn't him.
Hell, everyone had sighed at that.
What bothered Guimel was... "What the hell now?"
Heads turned in his direction.
"What do you mean what now?" Gatty asked. "We wait for an hour or so, then one of goes to make sure everything's ok over there."
"We should probably go to Folken first. He's been going in to check Lord Dilandau's vitals and stuff. If two of us tag along with him, we won't look like we're being too nosy," Shesta said. "Do you want to pick who goes? Viole and I are out."
"We can play spoons. The two winners get to go," Miguel said.
"Oh hell no. I ain't playing spoons against you, Miguel. Pick another game. How about Rummy?" Dallet fished a deck of cards from his pocket. He usually carried two decks, while Guimel packed the dice and chips.
"I'm out too. The three of you can go," Guimel said, resting his cheek against the glass and staring at the broken melefs being carted toward the hangars. Still no sign of the Silvers.
"You're out?" Dallet asked. "Just a few hours ago, you didn't want to leave Lord Dilandau's side. What's wrong? You're not..."
"No!" Guimel almost jumped off the sill, ready to fight. If Dallet thought Guimel's problem had to with Lord Dilandau's background, he'd hit him. Guimel's problem had to do with... "He's going to leave us."
Before he was dying, now he was just leaving. Lord Dilandau had Allen Schezar as a brother and a twin sister he'd shared a body with. He was going to want to go off with them to wherever they were from, not hang around with homeless losers. Astoria was merely a place to stay. He'd briefly entertained thoughts of going back to his birth home... hah. Guimel's mother was probably on husband nine by now and had forgotten all about him amidst all of the other bastards she dragged around when she moved. He wasn't the oldest or youngest son, and Ma hadn't known his name half the time.
"Lord Dilandau's not going to leave anyone," said Gatty. "We've been through too much together to think that."
"Too much shit, Gatty," Guimel said. "Who wants to be around people who remind them of shit? He looks at us and remembers Zaibach and what those asshole Sorcerers did to him and his sister. He's going to remember thinking he was crazy and being sick, and... and everyone that died. Why not go with Mr. and Mrs. Perfect and be told about a past with a mother that probably baked cakes and pies and knitted scarves?"
He could be normal. From the story he told, Lord Dilandau never got to be
normal. Guimel was an ass for not wanting him to have it, for not giving Lord Dilandau his blessing. His life, up until that point, had been hell. Great guys deserved great things.
"I resent that Guimel. I'm no one's shit," Miguel said. "And I'm certain Lord Dilandau does not think of me that way."
"We're his best friends in the world," Viole said with a grin. "Remembering shit is remembering your life. Cut it all out and you don't know what's real anymore. Besides, Celena was there through the worst parts of it. If he wanted to shy away from people who made him remember bad things, he wouldn't want to see her at all."
"And then there's the fact that she's Valeska. Even if she didn't know who Lord Dilandau was and didn't stand a chance in hell, she tried to kill him," Gatty said.
"I don't know. I'm starting to think Lord Dilandau finds things like that charming. Van tried to kill him too, after all, and look where he is. So, we don't have anything to worry about." Dallet snatched a pillow from behind Viole and used it to smack Gatty in the face.
Gatty yelped and grabbed the pillow. "What the hell, Dallet?"
Dallet laughed. "It looked like a funeral in here, so I pulled a 'Viole', since sickee here can't find the energy to do it himself."
Viole stared at Dallet with wide blue eyes. "I wouldn't have done that, Dally. Lord Dilandau and Gatty are even when it comes to..."
"Y–OUCH!"
Dallet crashed to the floor, and lay flat on his back with a pillow over his face and another on his crotch. Gatty gave a superior smirk and Miguel and Shesta chuckled as Viole shook his head.
Guimel glared at them all. The somber air in the room vanished. Dallet sprang to his feet, shaking his head and wielding two pillows. "It's on now, Gatty. Choose your weapon."
Viole tossed Gatty another pillow.
"The rug can be the rink," suggested Miguel. "If both feet find themselves off the rug, you're out."
"What's allowed?" Gatty asked and Dallet raised a brow.
"Hey, this ain't a real..."
"No biting, hair-pulling, eye-poking..."
"Hey, this ain't a real..."
Guimel couldn't take anymore. Did everyone but him think this was a joke? They could blow it off and say, everything will be just like it was, but nothing ever was. Guimel knew what it was like to pushed aside in favor of the next new thing, the better thing. Each new man Ma got gave her better children, because they were the sons and daughters of the current jerk-off, and when he left, the next guy's brats took their place.
He pushed off the window sill and stalked past the bed.
"Guimel?" Viole called.
"Hey Guy, where ya going? Let's tag team. Hey, winners go see Lord Dilandau."
"That's not fair; who'll be on my team?" Gatty shouted.
Dallet stuck a hand out to catch Guimel's arm and Guimel shrugged him off. He didn't want a repeat of the hallway and knew Dallet would tackle him if he let the other boy get too close.
"I'm taking a walk," to get the hell away from you morons. He left the room, not looking back and slamming the door. Dallet would come out after him in a bit, so he had to run. He pressed his back against the wall next to the door he closed and shut his eyes. He felt like someone had punched a hole in his chest and held his heart is a tight fist. His neck and shoulders ached as the fist bounced inside his body when he moved, nudging his spine.
Was this worse than thinking Lord Dilandau was going to die? No. If Lord Dilandau had died, that pain would have been constant; this pain was something that would fade over time. Guimel just had to get used to it. He wanted his friends to get used to it. They should be helping each other. Guimel wanted their help now, but now they were where he was before, in denial.
A door creaked open and a young woman stepped into the hall. Blond curls brushed her shoulders and light blue eyes squinted in his direction. The hand around his heart squeezed tighter. He knew her face.
"Guimel?"
Guimel almost gasped, then stopped himself. She had to be Celena, and Celena would know his name. He shuddered. He didn't like that the bitch, ex-bitch, knew his name or that she had been there to discourage Lord Dilandau from choosing him to be a Slayer.
"Where's your hip ornament Dallet?" Celena placed a hand on her hip.
Guimel blinked. "He's... around." Just go. Just walk by her and go. She was one of the last people he wanted to talk to, the other people being Allen Schezar and Lord Dilandau.
"Well, if you two aren't jerking off together, go sit with Dilan for a minute. I... he's... I can't deal with that. I was gonna get Allen, but you're just as good. Go."
Sir Allen wasn't... Guimel was walking into the room before he could stop himself. Celena stood in the doorway, watching him pour sterilizing fluid on his hands and snapping on gloves. "Tell him I'll be back later."
She was gone. Guimel blinked. He didn't want to be there. He was supposed to be on the stairs, taking them by two's. He could be helping Princess Millerna and Lord Dryden outside or something.
He started to pull off the gloves, but stopped. Lord Dilandau was alone. He parted the curtain and stepped into the room. "Lord Dilandau?"
"H–here."
Lord Dilandau sat in bed, holding a blue basin in his lap, his head bowed over it. Guimel hurried over, climbing onto the bed and resting a hand on his back. "Hey, you ok?"
"Just wonderful. Stay back or you and Van will have matching shirts."
"My dream is to have a shirt befitting of a king," Guimel said wryly. He took Lord Dilandau's wrists, massaging them.
"What are you doing?"
"Dr. Marie said there's pressure points for nausea in your wrists."
"You asked her?" Lord Dilandau gulped.
"Yeah." Guimel shrugged. "Just in case, you know? I mean, I guess Celena doesn't know about them, so..."
Dilandau snorted. "Like I'd let Celena practice medicine on me." He raised his head. Clear magenta eyes gazed at Guimel. "You look like someone's accused you of being the father of her children again. What's wrong?"
"N–nothing," Guimel said, clearing his throat. "Feeling better?"
"For the moment." Lord Dilandau took his wrists back. "So, what is it?"
"Nothing, I said." Guimel cracked his knuckles. Lord Dilandau scowled at him. "Uh... I ran into Celena in the hall, and it was weird. She knew my name and everything."
Lord Dilandau's eyes widened and he leaned back on his hands. "Ah. Yeah, I can imagine that being weird. I was hoping to call everybody in at once and have you guys all reconnect together. That way we could have the awkward moment together."
"Yeah? Well, you can still do that for the other guys. We've been talking about it."
"I figured, since everyone ran away and left Van to get vomited on alone." Lord Dilandau fingered the basin. "You guys all seemed ok with–the other stuff– but I didn't know how you'd feel about having the two of us around, both of us knowing personal things about you. We talked about it– Celena and me, but we didn't get anywhere."
Guimel frowned. "You guys talked about us?"
Lord Dilandau sighed. "Yeah. We've been talking about you for the past hour or so. That's why Allen left. We were losing him. It seems Celena and I finish each other's sentences or stop mid-sentence because we know what the other means or is going to say. It's–different, but it's nice. It's like having my other half back, but we're still separate people, if that makes sense at all. I told her all about the cadets and she's going to pick up my slack with them for a while, and, if you guys will have her, join you on missions."
"Missions?"
"Yeah, Astoria is a mess and the armies, Astoria's and Allies alike, are in shambles. They'll need us for clean up. We're going to be busy."
Guimel's heart felt like it was going to burst. He almost reached down to grab the invisible wrist belonging to the hand in his chest. 'We're going to be busy?' Lord Dilandau was talking like he was going to hang around the castle, even after he was better. "What? You didn't think our job was over just because the war is? We've got capitals to clean and armies to rebuild. Then we've got Fanelia to think about. Folken's going to need help there."
"But... but what about Sir Allen and Celena and..."
"What about them?" Lord Dilandau felt around for the pillows piled up behind him and scooted back to rest on them.
"Doesn't Sir Allen have a house in the country or something? Aren't you guys going to live there?"
Lord Dilandau shrugged. "Yeah, there's a house and we're going to go back to it and air it out, maybe stay there on weekends, stuff like that. Allen hasn't actually lived there for a long time. His duties are closer to the capital as are mine, so it's easier for us to stay here."
Guimel had hold of the invisible wrist.
"Did you want me to move out to the country or something, Guimel? I'll let you know now, distance won't make your job any easier. It's about time we all started training again. War has made us lazy. I wonder how many miles we can still run, and I won't even discuss weight training yet."
Guimel squeezed the wrist until its hand let go, and he yanked it out of his chest. He took a deep breath without pain. Gods, it felt good.
"What are you smiling about?"
Guimel chuckled. "Nothing." Then laughed outright at another scowl from Lord Dilandau. "You don't change, Lord Dilandau. Even with all that's happened, switching bodies, almost dying, kissing boys, you're still the same guy."
Lord Dilandau lifted a brow. "You thought I'd be different for some reason?"
Guimel shrugged. "Maybe, with Celena and Allen and all. You have something you didn't have before, and... well, a guy's gotta have a break every now and again. With big brother to look after you and knowing you're going to be fine, I didn't know if you'd want to do...this anymore. I mean, who says you still have to be a soldier? If you had... had died, I wasn't going to fight anymore. I didn't think the others were either, really. So, I figured after all this and you maybe going off with Allen, there would be no more Dragonslayers."
Lord Dilandau seemed thoughtful, eyes light as he studied Guimel. "Well, I did give you all the option of not fighting under me anymore, and you voted against it. If I wasn't here, I can see you running off, but since I am... and I still feel I have work to do..."
"Then we're with you, of course," Guimel said.
"But if you want to pursue other things, I... don't have a problem with it. Zaibach is defeated, after all. I'd like to keep in touch, and know how to reach you all, though. I know it sounds childish, but I'm used to your company. You're the first friends I've ever had; you're the family I didn't have before. Folken told me..." Lord Dilandau trailed off, looking away from Guimel briefly. "Folken told me that things between he and I would stay the same. I... worried about that, but I didn't worry about us. Should I worry about us?"
Guimel started and had to choke back a giggle. They were so pitiful it was embarrassing. "No way. Oh man, you just gave back seven years of my life. I was scared of the same thing, about it all changing between us. The guys are all laughing it up and making light of it, but..."
"Not you." Lord Dilandau said. "You know, people would guess Viole or Shesta to be the sensitive ones of the group, but it's really you."
Guimel flushed. "Hey, not a chance. I'm a man's man. I don't..."
"Let it show," Lord Dilandau finished for him. "I don't blame you. Who wants to be caught crying or flinching? That's for girls."
"Exactly." Guimel puffed out his chest. "Men..."
"Brood." Lord Dilandau gave a half-grin that Guimel returned.
"I'm not sensitive though."
"Touchy?"
"No!"
"In tune with your emotions?"
"Stop already!" Guimel knew his entire face was red. He could feel it burning. He covered it with his hands. "Enough. Between you and Dallet..."
"You'll get a sizeable counseling bill?"
"Oh, that's it. You want to take this outside?"
"And have Red Witch abandoning patients on the operating table to tear me a new one? No thank you," Lord Dilandau said cheekily. He sat up, looking past Guimel. "I didn't think you'd be back so soon."
"Did you...?"
Guimel turned at the sound of Celena's voice behind him. The young woman stood with her hands in the pockets of her oversized breeches. The dark blue shirt was half unbuttoned to reveal a yellow undershirt. Couldn't a woman have loaned her a dress? "No, and who would have thought you'd be squeamish."
"I'm not! I just didn't... Look, I don't know how to take care of people when they're sick, ok? Last time, Len was here."
Guimel looked between the two of them, the twins. It was obvious they favored different parents, Lord Dilandau looking more like Sir Allen, but when they argued their resemblance to each other was uncanny. The energy was the same.
"So, you left..."
"To get him, but Guimel showed up first." Celena glanced at Guimel. "I figured he'd be good at stuff like this, since he's..."
Guimel dropped his head back into his hands. Oh gods. He couldn't decide if he should laugh or cry? It seemed he was being designated the sensitive one, and everyone was agreeing. So, maybe he was a bit touchy. Every guy was entitled to brief moments of ... touchiness. That shouldn't make him the subject of group conversations, but so long as there were still group conversations, he didn't care so much. The group, his group, would never change, and even if people wanted to leave, Lord Dilandau would keep them all in touch, because Lord Dilandau was another guy that... brooded. Guimel thought of Ma and all her men and kids and wondered if, sometimes, she brooded too. He pictured her misty green eyes when a man left and how she'd ruffle his hair as he stood with her by the door. 'Thanks, kiddo,' she'd say each time. Had she stood in the doorway after he'd left too? Did she wonder where he was?
The twins continued to bicker and Guimel laughed as he realized he didn't care. When he'd left Ma behind, he'd sworn he'd never think about her again, and there he was trying to compare her to one of his good friends. Lord Dilandau would never be anything like his fickle Ma. Guimel would be as old as Dallet described his Pincurl, still listening to Viole teasing Miguel, Miguel whining about new partners, Shesta bitching, Gatty trying to be the man, Dallet gushing over tools, and Lord Dilandau and Celena arguing.
They were staring at him, Lord Dilandau and Celena, only it wasn't right to call her just 'Celena' was it?
"What the hell is so funny?" they demanded.
Guimel wiped tears from his eyes, while gazing at Celena. "What are we supposed to call you?"
Celena Schezar was the weirdest woman Dallet had ever met. She could drink more than he and Guimel combined, belch all the letters of her name in one go, and call Dallet on his shit sooner than he could start it. There was no way into that woman's breeches. Not that he'd try of course. Lord Dilandau would kill him, Sir Allen would broil his remains, and Celena would eat them.
Funny family. Castle gossip was wild with talk of the siblings' origins and latest spats. People were saying Celena and Lord Dilandau were stolen at birth by beast men and lived in the wild before found by Zaibach magicians who bewitched them. There were tales of high towers and locked rooms and Sir Allen on stallions rescuing his brother, but not being able to find his sister. The fairytales were so great that Dallet was sure the fantastic truth would seem dull in comparison. Not to mention nobody would believe it. It would be like explaining engines to people using horses and wagons.
Dallet walked along on the horizontal body of his ruined Silver, inspecting the damage, as Celena hollered at two men keeping her away from Lord Dilandau's Oreades.
"It's as much mine as it is his!"
And it was a piece of shit now, so Dallet didn't see why the guys wouldn't let her play with it. It wasn't like it could take off. Dallet had already declared that particular machine unfit for battle. He just hadn't gotten around to telling Lord Dilandau about it. It had only been a week and half since the transplant and Lord Dilandau was nowhere near one-hundred percent. Dallet didn't want to add high blood pressure to the problem. So, if Lord Dilandau didn't know about the state of his Oreades there was a good chance Celena didn't know either.
Celena. She hadn't wanted a title, and Dallet was glad. It would have been weird calling her 'Lady Celena' though Dallet was sure she'd want to be called 'sir'. Dallet used to think Refina was a tomboy, but compared to Celena Refina had been Princess Eries.
Dallet kicked at the dented hatch of his Silver and groaned in disgust. He really didn't see why Folken insisted that he inspect the units. They were all crap. The generals and their lackeys had broken Dallet's toys, and two of them weren't even alive to apologize for it. Memorial services for the soldiers lost and special tributes for Generals Aloju and Keller had been given the day before.
Dallet and Guimel hadn't gone. They'd opted to sit with Lord Dilandau and trash talk the guys that had wrecked their Alseides. Those decorated morons knew from extensive training never to take out weapons they'd never used before. Their deaths may have been unnecessary, and Lord Dilandau claimed he couldn't respect anyone who'd throw his life away for the sake of ego. The Silvers were the best pieces of equipment on the field and that greedy-ass Keller had always acted like one of them should belong to him. Dallet hoped the man had felt as powerful as he'd wanted to be when he'd died.
At the end of their trash-talking session, they'd had a moment of silence. In the end, the generals were men who'd lost their lives in battle, and it wasn't nice to badmouth the dead before their graves were cold. Their ghosts might come haunt them, and Dallet so believed in ghosts now. Then, Folken had ordered Dallet to take a look at the Silvers and that mode of thinking was all gone.
Rat bastards.
All they had now were the Blues. The old Alseides were fine and dandy, but Dallet felt more kick ass in his Silver. Also, there were only five Blues, meaning somebody was going to have to stay home when they flew out on missions, either that or borrow an Astorian Melef. The main problem with those rust buckets was that they didn't fly. Traveling would take days longer. If Astoria had the resources to spare, Dallet would suggest that they use them to revive a Silver or two.
Dallet climbed off the dead Silver, his boots thudding loudly against the stone floor. He felt like getting his hands greasy to take his mind off the murders of beautiful machinery.
Rat, bitch, bastards that sniffed ass and sucked...
"Dallet."
Dallet stopped abruptly before slamming into Celena. She stood inches from him, and Dallet looked her up and down. She wore Lord Dilandau's clothes, black slacks and red shirt, both stained with dirt and oil, and... Dallet squinted... there was a hole above the right knee of the pants. Lord Dilandau was gonna be so pissed.
"Yeah?"
"I was told I'd need your permission to look at my– Dilandau's melef."
Dallet snorted. The girl had a superior air about her that rivaled Sir Allen's any day, however, Sir Allen knew how to make his airs pretty. That unladylike sneer didn't suit Celena at all. The girl was gorgeous, and Lord Dilandau's clothes were tight on her, accenting curves and swelling breasts. Dallet wanted to rip the ponytail out of hair and have his way with her, but then envisioned being killed, roasted, and gobbled up. No thank you.
The other men in the room looked when Celena's back was turned, but Dallet noticed no one so much as cat-called when she passed. Looked like Dallet wasn't the only man with keen survival instincts.
"What do you wanna look at that piece of shit for? As soon as we've cleaned all this mess up, it'll be scavenged for parts."
Celena growled at him. "You think I can't tell it's a piece of shit by looking at it? I'm not going to try to pilot it, I want to... to see where Dilandau fought me from, go inside if I can."
Dallet frowned. The girl's face was flushed and Dallet didn't know if it was from frustration or embarrassment. Her blue eyes were bright and she looked away from Dallet, golden lashes shielding the expression Dallet had caught a glimpse of.
"Hey." Dallet reached out, but stopped himself before he actually touched her. Sure she'd been with Lord Dilandau and all, and they were supposed to regard her as they'd regard him to a certain extent. Dallet believed he'd reached that extent. If Lord Dilandau had been in front of him, Dallet would have given him a friendly punch on the shoulder, then maybe slung an arm around his neck. This was Celena, ex-enemy lord, ex-psycho Dragonslayer captain that hadn't wanted Dallet on her team. She might bite him, if he touched her, and he didn't put it past her to have rabies.
"Hey, don't be like that. You didn't hurt him or anything. There was never a scratch on him after any of your...er..." Well, they were a bit too one-sided to be called spars, but massacres might get Dallet punched– Celena didn't seem the type to slap. "Encounters?"
Celena shifted, still not looking at him. "Just because he wasn't hurt doesn't omit the fact that I tried to hurt him. I'm never gonna win any medals for being a great big sister or anything, but the last thing I ever want to do is hurt him."
"So, don't." Dallet shrugged. He knew what she was going through. Looking back at pasts you can't change was damn hard. All you could hope for was that person you hurt or got killed would eventually forgive you. Celena didn't have to hope. "He forgives you."
"Because he hasn't really thought about it. The brat's so happy to have me back with him that he doesn't even realize he doesn't know me. He doesn't remember half of the things we went through together, the times I took control, the things I convinced him to do. The damn Madoushi took so many of his memories, trying to sponge me out of his life, and I don't know if he'll get them back or if I even want him to."
Dallet raised a brow at Celena's disclosure. Was she really that comfortable with him? The girl did call all of them by name and nickname. It was possible she didn't feel awkward as they did around each other. But then, he couldn't see Celena feeling awkward about anything but a ball gown.
"Well, isn't that for him to decide? I mean, they're his memories, whether they be good or bad. Memories are what make you, you, you know?"
"You need a bigger vocabulary."
"You're not the first person to tell me that," Dallet said. "But you understand me, right?"
Celena sighed. "Does anyone really understand you?"
Dallet frowned.
"You talk too much at the worst times. I used to think, at times, you were a bigger mistake than Viole, but somehow, somehow that brat made it work. All of you turned out to be better than anything I could have put together. I tried to put together a team. I handpicked the Gorgons. None of them were as good as I would have liked, but they were the best Adelphos had to offer. I trained them and– they were good, dammit."
Dallet cleared his throat and looked away. He didn't feel bad for killing the Gorgons, as they did wreck his hometown and try to kill them, but he would offer her his condolences if she missed the sorry lot.
"But they didn't have Dragonslayer magic. There was something about each one of you that Dilan was able to see. Every String complimented each other. I thought he was just being stupid and soft, but he actually knew what he was doing. The Madoushi were right to choose to give him control. He's the better soldier, the better leader."
Celena hung her head and Dallet sighed and steeled his nerves. His hand went out again to touch her shoulder, and she didn't hit him. "Hey, we're going to have an audience in a minute if we keep standing so close together. You want to go outside?"
Dallet glanced around the busy hangar. Men were running to and fro, none glancing at them for more than a second or two, but he knew that would change. Celena nodded and Dallet let his hand fall from her shoulder.
They left through the door that led back inside the castle. The main hangar gate was wide open and flooded with soldiers and blood crusted metal. There was no getting out that way, only incoming traffic was allowed.
Celena's strides were as long as his own, and she held her back straight, stance wide. She walked like a man, like Lord Dilandau. Dallet wondered if it was from being inside a male body for so long, or if that was just how Celena walked. He'd always thought girls naturally swayed and twisted when they walked because of the way their bodies were made. The wider hips made them have to sashay in the way that had Dallet and Guimel running after them, ready to open doors and buy fruity 'get you drunk fast' drinks.
"So, what do you guys think about me, huh? I know you know I didn't pick you, or Guimel, or Viole, or Shesta for this team, and somehow all of you ended up being our–his Elite, the guys that saved him from Zaibach."
"Refina, Tristan, Ryuuon, Biore, Sergio, Andre, Keiran, Kwami, and Brian saved him for Zaibach," Dallet said. "We only brought him home."
"And took care of him and protected him and– did–still do– what I can't. You guys are bonded, linked, in a way Dilan and I aren't. I'll never really be a part of your group, though I co-founded it. I mean, when I was in charge, you guys ran from us– me and Dilandau– like the plague. I couldn't stand the close relationship he was forming with you. Soldiers and superiors are not supposed to be friends. It ruins the team. That's what we were taught, that's what we observed, but perfect Dilan turns everything he touches to gold. I was... jealous; I am jealous."
"Of Lord Dilandau?"
Celena grunted. "Yeah. I mean, I know nothing came to him easy. I know how hard he, we, worked and how much we suffered more than he does. It was hard to watch him go against training to do what he wanted. I thought I was so much smarter, better, for being harder than him, for remembering our lessons better. But in the end, he won, didn't he? Beat me, half dead, every time. My team was killed in a matter of minutes. They weren't a challenge to you at all, were they?"
Dallet shrugged. He'd thought the Gorgons were a joke. Those guys made Andre and Sergio, may they rest in peace, look like freakin' gods of war. Could a few months with Lord Dilandau really make that much of a difference in a soldier? Celena had said the Gorgons were Adelphos's best, so Dallet guessed it could.
"No. Sorry madam for your loss of the battle and your men, but I didn't break a sweat. And what's sad is that was the perfect day to attack us. We'd just gotten back from a mission and were exhausted, and Guimel and Miguel were hung-over as hell, and Lord Dilandau was ready to pass out before you'd even gotten there."
Celena scowled at him. "As I said before, you talk too much at the worst times. I don't want to hear about how much I suck as a leader."
"You were the one that brought all that stuff up, not me." What a bitch. Dallet didn't have to talk to her. He was being nice and she wasn't. Although, maybe the crack about how crappy the condition of the team was when she'd fought them hadn't been too sympathetic. Hell, Dallet wasn't the sensitive one, and if she knew him as well as she thought she did, she knew that.
"I did," Celena said. "Just forgot how blunt you can be. You say what's your mind."
"Sometimes." When he felt it could help someone, or when weird shit happened.
"I don't know what I was after when I started talking to you and telling you all this stuff, Dallet. I didn't want you to make me feel better, because I knew you wouldn't. I just... maybe, I'm trying to figure what it is inside of all of you that makes you so special."
Dallet blinked.
"Each of you adds something to the group, personality wise, that it needs to make it a good fighting unit. I never thought personality mattered much. I only looked at skill and strength, and Dilandau showed me that skill and strength can be learned and gained. I mean, all of you have some natural talent. I mean, Dilandau wouldn't have picked you, if you were completely hopeless with a sword, but he looked for more than that. I want..."
Celena stopped walking. They were heading toward a side door at the end of a servants' corridor. It would take them out behind one of the stables. "I want a team of my own again, and I don't want them to be like the Gorgons. I want a team like you, and I want to be able to pick them for myself without asking for his help."
"A team, huh?" Dallet almost grinned at that. He would never breathe a word of it to Lord Dilandau, but he wasn't thrilled with the idea of Celena joining their team. He knew he didn't like working with her or following her orders, because he knew for damn sure she wasn't going to take a backseat to Gatty or Shesta when they went out on missions. "Well, we've got plenty of cadets, and they're really coming along. You're going to be helping us train them. You can watch and choose some of them..."
"No." Celena shook her head. "I don't want anyone Dilandau's had a hand with. I don't want to be... compared to him."
"But you guys had the same training. Wouldn't your techniques be kinda similar?" Dallet had watched Celena fight as Valeska, and he admitted the girl had skill, and though she was no match for Lord Dilandau, Dallet didn't think he could have stood up to her.
"Yeah, we did." Celena was quiet.
Had Dallet put his foot in his mouth? Geez. They were trained the same but Lord Dilandau was better. Dallet had come to accept it. He'd never be as good as Lord Dilandau. Lord Dilandau was incredible, special, a prodigy. Those kind of people you never try to touch, because you can't; you'd be wasting your time. Having someone like that for your twin had to be hard, especially when you thought– knew– people preferred him to you.
"Ah gods, I'm sorry Celena. I didn't think..."
"It's fine. You say what's on your mind. I'm not talking to you to be comforted and have my ego stroked. I'd talk to Gatty if I wanted that. He knows how to watch what he says without sounding like he is."
And he's the only one both you and Lord Dilandau chose.
Gatty was another person that was good at whatever he tried for the most part, but he wasn't untouchable. Dallet wondered if Celena could beat Gatty, if Gatty went all out on her. Probably. Knowing that Gatty would lose against her too, made Dallet feel a bit better about himself. Lord Dilandau was right. They really needed to get back into shape. "So?"
"So?" Dallet glanced at the girl. He'd lost track of the conversation. It happened when people jumped from topic to topic. Celena didn't seem to be able to keep to one train of thought. Flighty bitch. Eh... not that Dallet could talk too much.
"How do you feel about me being here?"
Whoa. She had asked about that earlier, hadn't she? Dallet squirmed and licked his lips. Geez. What to say? He knew he hadn't liked her on the Vione, and he didn't know how he felt about the girl standing next to him now.
"You're Lord Dilandau's sister and he loves you."
Celena tapped her foot and Dallet hid a smirk. Foot tapping must be a Schezar trait. He couldn't dislike her. She reminded him too much of Lord Dilandau, but he knew he'd never feel the same way for her that she did about him.
"We'll deal. We accept you now, because Lord Dilandau wants us too, but give it some time. Let us get to know you, really know you, and then ask me or someone else that question again, ok? It's... it's not fair now."
"Is anything ever fair, Dallet?" Celena asked. "I'm used to being the odd guy out. Mama and Allen preferred Dilan over me, and Allen didn't even know he was there. So, I can't say that I care too much about it. I just want to know if it's going to affect how we'll work together."
Dallet snorted. "Please. You know we can work with anyone. We're professionals."
Celena snorted back. "Yeah, yeah. I seem to remember a certain team known as Hydra that you boys couldn't–"
"Hey. Those guys were asswipes, complete and utter asswipes. All broken limbs dealt were due to their asswipeness."
"I'm not arguing," Celena said with a slight grin. "Just letting you know that some people can't be worked with, and... well, I'll try my best to not be one of those people. Even though I want my own team to prove myself to, I'd still like to work with you sometime. You– you guys are loyal to Dilan, but I still feel like you're my boys too. Regardless if I chose you or not. You all grew on me."
Dallet chuckled and looked at her under his lashes. Celena wore a smirk and walked with a little bounce in her step. She looked like Lord Dilandau ready to jump into an Alseid and head out with them. A rush of warm made his mouth twitch into a wide smile and... what the hell. He slung an arm around her neck. "Yeah, and maybe you'll grow on us too."
He was thrown off and went careening into the stone wall with an "oof". Strong girl, this Celena. Dallet liked them strong and mouthy. If she could work on the walk, he might consider her breeches again–wait, she wore Lord Dilandau's pants. Oh yuck!
The only time Little Dallet had been less excited was when Pincurl got out of that machine in all his naked nastiness.
"Keep your hands to yourself and the maids, Dally-boy, and we'll get along just fine."
Dallet rubbed his sore shoulder and mock-glared at the girl, before falling into step with her again. "I can already tell this is going to be fun."
Dallet got to the door first and opened it, holding it for Celena, who glared at him. Ok. He let it go and cackled as the door smacked her in the face, then took off running. He heard the crack of a door crashing against stone and swift steps coming after him.
Running through a garden oblivious to the aftermath of war with a beautiful girl on his heels, Dallet grinned. The future was going to be exciting, and he was already having fun.
Author's Note: Well that was the first part. What's the verdict? Like it? Hate it? Don't care either way? Either way, let me know; please review. Next part will feature Gatty, Shesta and Miguel :)