Dilandau exited the room, back in his clothes. Miguel couldn't look him in the eye.

"The boy just woke up." Dilandau said placing his glove on his hand. As if nothing had happened between the three of them, "He'd like a bath."

Miguel coughed "I shall attend to him."

"Thank you Miguel. You are very useful to have around." Dilandau smiled, which he rarely did at any of his Dragon slayers. Dilandau said a strange glint in his eyes. This strange look and the crooked glove were the only evidence that anything had gone on between him and the dark haired boy of the Strategos. How could Dilandau regain his composure so fast? Miguel stared at him as he dispassionately straightened his glove.

How could anyone recover from such an experience so fast? Like it had been no more than a moment's entertainment rather than a dangerous and near fatal encounter. Like it was a joke; heard and forgotten. Miguel let his master leave. Trying to forget what he had seen, trying to ignore, as easily as Dilandau did.

***

Van needed to rinse the sweaty witness off his body. He needed to wash this night away. As the Dragon Slayer led him to the stone room, he wondered where they kept the basin for washing. There was no area in the room to wash off. They must have had different bathing customs in Zaibach. In the western lands of Gaea, the people just sat in the bath water, going in completely dirty. It seemed kind of disgusting, sitting in your own filth.

The Dragon Slayer, Miguel, experimented with the various strange levers sticking out of the wall. The boy tried to ignore him, as if he hadn't seen what had happened or the way he had found him with Dilandau. Van wondered if it was the first time. It had hurt Miguel to see Dilandau in bed with another boy, yet he dutifully followed his orders. How could a creature as disgusting as wanton as Dilandau produce such loyalty?

They did have a better bathing customs in Zaibach. The shower was a stream of water that drained into a hole at the bottom of the basin. Kind of like a waterfall only inside. It still seemed strange but he wasn't surprised by it, which probably would have pleased the guard to see the Fanelian bumpkin slack-jawed by the sight of running water.

Running water was one of the newer features of the palace. It didn't surprise him any more. They only used it in the kitchen. It seemed kind of filthy to use running water for both bathing and cooking. No fresh water was ever brought in. Nothing was ever rinsed away. The same poisons and dirt and pollutants floated like diseased blood, like a swamp.

Still, it felt like hot water, warmer than the sun warmed plumbing of the palace. He let out a soft sigh. They used a really strange soap in a leather bottle. He poured the soap onto his hair, slippery and soft. Much softer than bathing soap he used. Even in Palas, their soap had been pressed into white cakes, fragrant and beautiful, too beautiful for a man to use.

His mother had lots of soaps in her toilette of all shapes and sizes. When he was a baby he liked to smell them and play with them and sometimes taste them. Once he had swallowed one of her prettier ones. He put everything he could reach in his mouth. They had been shaped like animal's heads. He had swallowed three or four pieces, when his mother finally caught him with a bird's head sticking out of his mouth.

His family stared at him horrifically. His father lifted him up off the ground and forced open his mouth witnessing only the lathery pink traces in his mouth. His mother panicked. Folken was bitter. The Royal family had planned on a proper procession down to the Temple of War that day, in honor of the Full Moon. Folken had eagerly been waiting to show off his first set of real battle armor.

They had to call the whole thing off as the healers try to reassure his parents that there were no poisonous essences in the soap that would harm him. Besides throwing up once, Van spent the evening comfortable and the center of attention, wondering what the big deal was. It was no worse than the bugs he ate, or dirt. It was probably nicer than eating those kinds of things. Soap made you clean and for some reason he couldn't help thinking that he was clean on the inside too.

Van brushed a little of the cloud of lather past the corner of his mouth onto his tongue. It was not the same. This soap was so unnatural. It looked like honey and felt like oil. There was nothing beautiful about it. It smelled so sweet and poisonous. Brown soap had a rich and bitter taste. It didn't smell like this. He felt a tear dribble down his cheek.

Nothing could really clean the inside.

It was fitting to cry in a bath. The tears dissolved into the warmth of the water as if they really didn't exist. The guard couldn't see him crying. He had made that pledge long ago to never let the Zaibach see him weep. He shattered the last bubbles in his sky dark hair, such an odd color for this new country. He scraped the soap out and entered his bath.

"Tell me Miguel. What kind of soap is this? Why do they put it in a leather skin? It would go just in well in glass or hide. Why doesn't it warp?"

Miguel looked at the plastic bottle.

"It's not leather. That white stuff is plastic. It's lighter than steel. They make the Alseides out of them."

"The Alseides are made out of leather? I don't believe that. What is this soap called then?"

"Shampoo. It's a strange luxury, huh? Works a lot faster than old brown soap."

"That's a strange name. I don't like it." Van shook his head.

"It's new I guess. They make it in big factories. See they take these chemicals… all kinds of essences and fragrances and such and make it there with big machines and huge vats."

"I know what chemicals are, like drugs." Van asked. Folken had explained to him a lot about drugs lately during these visions.

"No. Nothing that strong. Lots of things are made this way in Zaibach, now. Belts, swords, guns, food especially."

Miguel leaned back.

"Doesn't anybody ever make the old kind?" Van asked.

"Sure they make it but not for themselves. They make it in a soap factory. Isn't that a great thing though? Not having to waste your time making soap."

"We never made soap in my home." Van said.

"Bought it from a butcher then? You must have been rich." Miguel laughed, "Every fall we'd get the kettle's burning and stinking, the extra ash. It made such a stink. I had to stir it. We didn't have many kids in our family. While everyone was out picking beechnuts I had to stir the soap."

Van paused "I never knew how it was made."

"But if you bought it, what's the difference on what it's made of? This is better stuff."

Miguel smiled playing with the bottle the shampoo came in "It's as if everything a knight or a lord could have was given to everyone. I don't have to make my own soap or cobble my own shoes or trim my own hay. I just do what I do. People don't waste their lives doing this stuff. And then eventually some bloke comes around and invents a machine that makes that job easier. You can make a belt with a machine if you needed to. There's all kinds of fine things to buy and eat now."

Van mused at the guard, "Wealth does not give a knight nobility. To have all the wealth that a knight does and not his honor will not equalize the world."

"You are a naive little bugger. Tell me that wealth doesn't run the world. Always has. Always will. Ever since the beginning, the knights and the kings they had everything. What they didn't have, they took in war, with weapons, with fighting, with killing."
Miguel stirred the water

"Take Salshi."

"Where is that?" Van asked.

"It was a little corner of rye fields. North Zaibach. It's where I came from."

Van listened to the guard speak.

"Astoria wanted more farm land. That was all. It wasn't anything about honor or civility or justice or the Gods then. They sent a few of the Knights Caeli, three or four guymelefs. They cut it down, killed everybody they could. Anyone who wasn't killed in the fire, wish they had died. They raped the girls, some of the boys. The ones who couldn't put too much of a fight after getting thrown around a bit."

Miguel's eyes burned a little.

"And if you don't believe a word of it, just ask me. The captain took my wife. He left me like a table scrap to his men."

Van pulled back. Miguel splashed the water back.

"It's not that way in Zaibach. Not anymore. It's not good. It's not perfect. But we have some nice things." Miguel looked at Van.

Miguel lowered his strange hazel eyes, the color of his dull hair. The soldier was staring down at his fingers in the water.

"No. It's not that way in Zaibach."

Miguel looked at him. Van tried not to let it upset him. The soldier was trying to be as direct as he could, especially with himself.

"Did anyone tell you what happened to Fanelia?" Miguel asked, "You know about the invasion?"

Van sat silently in the water. But Miguel continued.

"The Palace got burned down. The walls were knocked over. The whole city was burning when we left it."

Miguel bundled himself into a package. He was confessing his greatest crime. "Fanelia is destroyed. "

Van looked at Miguel from the distance and the safety of the bath.

"At least you didn't have to see it. Folken probably rescued you just in time. It was a mess down there. I don't know how they're going to deal with it. The King vanished, the city was burnt."

Van looked up at him. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Seemed like the right thing to do. They said you were Fanelian. I would like to know if my home was being attacked. If I had any family left…"

Van moved over towards him and held his hand.

Miguel looked at his hand and smiled.

"Thank you Miguel."

Miguel put down his hand hastily. "Don't thank me. Thank Folken. You must mean a lot to him if he brought you out of that." Miguel said, "You should try to be as grateful as possible. Try to show him. He's a honorable man." Van nodded. Miguel stood up and backed away.

"You have a good master who will protect you, and you're alive. You have it good. You might think that's a shit of a thing to say now and I can't tell you how to feel but you have something. Serve him well."

Miguel shook the water off his hand "Dilandau is my master. But I did choose him. And I'm doing okay. Not the most saintly or perfect life. I'm not going to be in any book or anything. I think I'm not going to hell. I don't know. I have my master to serve and Zaibach. I eat better than most and I have my own bed to sleep in. It's my life."

"But Tenshi, Folken is your master. Remember this. I know you were with my master, and if any harm comes to him, even if it is his reputation…."

"You're a good soldier Miguel."

Miguel turned around "Don't worry I won't tell. I'm keeping blind to it. He hasn't told me to say anything. So I won't tell… for his sake." Miguel shook his head "I don't know what you're doing to entice him, but whatever it is stop. Remember, you have your own master. And if you defy him or make him look like a fool, it's only going to give you death. Forget Dilandau." Miguel finally began walking out of the room

Van lowered his eyes and shifted lower into the bath, sinking down, feeling the water on his neck.

"If he would forget me."

***

Folken was looking out his suite's window to the desolate and beautiful landscape. He enjoyed this moment of silent dawn alone in reflection.

Van came into the room. Folken blinked. He had almost forgot he had asked Van for breakfast. He sat down in the chair. His hair still wet from his bathing.

"I hope you left the soap alone after you washed."

Van smirked.

"Don't worry. There are too many chemicals in that soap. It would kill me."

Folken grinned. It was nice to see his brother still had a sense of humor. Van smiled for the first time since Folken had seen him as child before the rite of Kingship. When he was a child. Now Folken wondered if Van would ever laugh. The tears were upsetting, but he could not imagine a world where his brother would not laugh. Van was still so ill at ease. As if something were haunting him. The loss of his kingdom had done greater damage than Folken had expected.

He never thought his bond with his kingdom could have been so deep. It was hard to imagine the life his brother must have had after he left. He had obviously misjudged it. He had the duty of Kingship thrust upon him. He couldn't be allowed to fail. While he spoke with great respect for Balgus, and the four generals, he never spoke of love, sweetness. Had anyone ever treat him like a little boy, and not the King?

For now it would be best to protect his identity, to have everyone think he was his slave. It was distasteful that the King would pose as a mere slave. It seemed as if he were cowardly and weak. He could never imagine this youth either of those things, even one moment in his short life.

"Once you get used to green fruit and chemicals it becomes easier."

Van sat at the table. The yellow melon teased his eye.

"Merle…"

He noticed Van's face darken.

Folken had seen this Merle as a baby felis. Balgus had taken her in as a ward, to honor her clansman, Oberlin, the 2nd Swords master of Gaea, who was only beat by Derayna who ascended to Divinity for her skill.

When he was a young child, the felis swordsman frightened years off of his life. Folken ran into his parents' bedchamber and hid under the covers, even his face. The next time he tried to wake his father and kill him with Escaflowne. He realized that he had left Van sitting in the sandbox. Van was only a baby and couldn't run. Folken felt sick with guilt for leaving his brother alone.

Oberlin had never seen a human baby. He thought it was the most fascinating scientific discovery since the energist. Van laughed as the felis's furry fingers tickled his belly. Van grabbed his large teeth. One of his hands wrapped around the tall sharp fang. The most fearsome warrior alive on Gaea let the little humanling yank his beard and pull his whiskers. It was still the silliest thing Folken had yet seen.

Folken did not know if the felisman still lived. If he had Merle would be almost as grown up as his own brother.

"She loves these." Van smiled

"Well one day we will have to find her and share some. Though I don't know why she'd want one so unripe." Folken said. "We have a debt to her kinsmen, for not eating you when you were a baby."

Van looked at his older brother.

"You're being awfully optimistic. She could be on a slave cart on her way to the borderlands now. She's only one girl."

"We will find Merle. If you want her here."

"She is the only family I have left."

Folken looked at him

"I mean…" Van tried to correct himself.

"You said what you meant Van, you always will. I'm not your brother any more. We are little more than strangers." Folken said. "Tell me about Merle."

"That little cat is amazing. She ran all the way from Fanelia to Allen's castle after the attack, just to find me."

"Schezar's…"

"Yeah. She is brave. If anybody could survive the end of Fanelia, it would be her. You should watch your doors. One day she might break in and rescue me." Van smiled.

Folken looked at the fruit on his plate. Schezar had been chasing them. Would the little girl be on that ship they had destroyed?

He felt the cool melon plop into his stomach.

Van continued, "Just think a few days ago she was a normal kid. She was so jealous of Hitomi. Well not exactly jealous. Merle doesn't like me hanging around other girls. No one is good enough for me, in her ever so humble opinion."

"Hitomi?"

"I almost forgot to tell you about that, didn't I?"

"Hitomi." Folken smiled "That's a pretty name. Is she your sweetheart?"

"No." Van looked away. "Maybe I shouldn't tell you. I wouldn't want Zaibach knowing about her."

"Then tell your brother. This will be between the two of us. She sounds special."

Van sat down and began whispering. Still he could not trust Folken somehow.

"When I was fighting the dragon for the right of ascension, I was swallowed by a stream of light. And was taken to this really strange place. I think… It was the Mystic Moon."

"What?" Folken exclaimed.

"I think it was. There was this strange building of white glass and concrete and steel everywhere. I landed in a strange courtyard. I didn't get the best view. It looked like they were having some kind of ritual foot race. They didn't even realize that a dragon was coming. They were just yelling. It scared me. I thought they were ghosts. They didn't even speak Gaean. They crowded around me and looked at me like I was a criminal. But you should have seen it when they first saw the land dragon. The boy almost shit a kitten."

Folken coughed at his brother's explicit language. Van blushed

"But the girl she ran. She's smarter than she looks. Tougher. Even though she was probably only just a churl. She slapped me in the face when she got mad. Then when I was thought I was trapped there forever, this huge column of light sucked us up and we were back on Gaea. I brought her back to the palace. It wasn't long before…"

Van trailed off.

"So you see why I have to be careful. Maybe they'll find out about her and… who knows what."

"I doubt they would believe such tales as people on the Mystic Moon. Thankfully for your Hitomi."

"Last time I saw her, that Schezar had her. What a sleaze. I don't know what she sees in him." Van said wagging his head.

"You sound jealous." Folken said playfully teasing him

"I'm not jealous." Van stood up indignantly "Why should I be?"

"Why shouldn't you be? Was she beautiful?"

"I don't… I don't know. I don't spend my time wondering if I think a girl is pretty or not. Besides she wouldn't like me…she hit me." He said sheepishly afraid to speak of it.

Folken chuckled. He was about that age. Maybe even a little after that age.

Van sat down "But I do hope she finds more respectable company. Schezar was talking about a royal audience."

"She was with Schezar too?" Folken looked out the window.

He had to face what he had done sooner than later. Every soul that died on that ship crash: Brave Schezar trying to save his brother from death, the little cat girl, his brother's sweetheart from the moon; whoever suffered for his act. He had shot Allen Schezar's ship down.

He hadn't imagined his brother could have a life. He never even thought about it. And now he had stranded him in Zaibach without a friend in the world.

The great Strategos closed his heavy eyes. Fanels were never good at this kind of thing. They weren't good at having lives. Sharing love, knowing how other people felt. They could slay dragons and destroy kingdoms but never this. He could only hope somehow all this death would come to some purpose.

****

Viole Deren walked into the studio. She could have never imagined that what time she went to the gym would become the most important decision of her day, let alone her life. She wasn't about to let Gatti cow her out of the gym. She suited up.

Moran stared at her. "You'll never get into their strip. Gatti is going to break your jaw this time."

"I'm not scared of Gatti." Viole said, "I want in."

"They'll never let us in their match. They are the Beta squad. We are only Gamma."

"We're all Dragon Slayers here."

Viole wished she were the kind of person who would stand up and take space. She couldn't even convince people to use the right pronouns. With all the years she spent in the centers "she" had become "he". Maybe it was better. In her old village she wasn't even female anymore. She'd never have a husband or a child; she would never tender her heart to have a family. Her mind had been purged of the weaknesses of her sex. The Dragon Slayers tacitly went along believing that she was nothing special. Just another Dragon Slayer. Just as well. There had been another girl once, Relena or something. Her moon cycle began pissing of Dilandau. But she would get her tubes tied off. She couldn't have wanted to be a Dragon Slayer that badly. They sent her back home and they brought in Moran. Viole knew her family would never take her back if she wanted to return.

On the strip the Betas were fencing. In the same group they had been for five years. Chesta was fencing Guimel. Gatti waited off strip coaching both sides, king of his domain. Viole remained on the other side watching, and waiting.

"Get your arse in gear Sheep boy."

They crossed swords again. Guimel was trying to shove the foil out of Chesta's hand.

"What is this?" Gatti shouted.

Chesta disengaged and came around his sword striking the winning blow.

"Are you trying to kiss him or kill him?" Gatti scoffed.

They saluted each other.

"Sorry. I thought I could over power the little shrimp." Guimel said

Chesta humphed.

"I'm next." Gatti said.

Viole could wait another round. Waiting until Gatti's confidence had crested, but not so long he'd use his exhaustion as an excuse. On the strip he still wouldn't stand a chance against her, no matter how sharp his tongue was.

"What's going on?" Viole felt a trap on her shoulder.

"Round Robin." She responded to the boy who had just come in. Then she realized she had never seen him before.

The boy was about their age. Though it wasn't apparent. He looked exotic, his darker skin almost honey colored. His hair was darker than her own, like a patch of tar. He wore peasant's clothes.

"So far Chesta's won twice. He's not gonna last. Gatti's up next." Viole said, "I don't care how lucky Chesta is today, he's not beating Gatti."

The two boys were saluting and shaking hands.

"May I join in? I haven't done a good bout in a long time. But I don't fight in matches" The boy looked in "I'm not used to scoring."

"Neither is Guimel." Gatti said.

"I'm in handsome company." The dark boy smirked, but not as heartily as he could. There was something quiet and sad about his eyes.

Gatti took a long look at Viole and addressed the boy.

"What a saucy churl you are. Let's see if your blade can speak so boldly. Viole step back. Give this one your sword."

Viole looked straight at Gatti. He would go far as to embarrass her as to let this strange peasant boy fight then actually dare to face her. Violet was livid. She was so mad she could….

She sighed and tossed him her foil.

He shook it around testing the weight. Van was not used to such a light weapon. But he had trained in sword craft for ten years. It felt more like sport. For some reason the sword called to him again, like an uncle, tender and strong. He needed to do something to prove he was alive. To prove he was a man and not some shadow.

Gatti lunged immediately. A kind of staggering lunge gait as hypnotic as a cobra. Van tossed the attack to a clean riposte, which Gatti swerved. Their blades never crossed, in a flurry of metal snaps. It was very quiet as the blades slid and fought each other. A fight of true sportsman, focused only on grace and skill.

Van felt his blood pumping and the light foil in his hand. He felt the whisking air of Gatti's expert blade. But he did not feel like a man. Gatti howled and lunged this time. Van took only one step back as the boy ran into position.

Van made a perfect riposte at Gatti's heart.

The Dragon Slayer stood up tall glaring at the boy.

"What is thy name?"

"Van."

Immediately the Dragon Slayer saluted and bowed.

"For a saucy churl you can cross swords. Give this one a sword and he could fend off judgment day."

They laughed.

"I fear this isn't our last bout." Van said.

"You think I'll let you beat me?" Gatti said "You'll see how well you fare against me when it's a fair fight. You do need to attack more aggressively. Your defense is strong. Stronger than Master Dilandau's. He's the only one I haven't beaten. It's if you were born to drive off the world."

Gatti smiled and walked off the strip patting Van on the back. Gatti found it hard to understand anyone who hadn't ever picked up a sword, easy going to anyone that had a talent at it, and usually a complete bitch to anyone who happened to beat him. He was probably in denial. At least someone had beat him, Viole thought grimly to herself.

Chesta smiled "I hope your going to come and bout some more. It makes it more interesting when Gatti doesn't win."

"Maybe." The boy shrugged.

He walked behind the glass into the other hall of the studio towards the sword target boards.

Viole noticed the others looking up from his free weights as the Van boy passed him. Dallet bit his lip guilty and worried Guimel would see that. Miguel swung his head back ashamed. Viole wish she could have such a powerful aura as to turn heads. He and Miguel walked over towards the other Betas, stripping down their equipment.

Viole slapped Miguel to get his attention.

"Who was that Migel-sempai?

"That was Folken's boy." Dallet said.

Gatti stared "What?"

"I thought you said he was ugly." Guimel said, "He was handsome."

"Really? I couldn't tell."

"That's no bed slave. Slaves are not versed in the art of sword craft."

Dallet scratched his chin "Maybe he was kidnapped. Or he has an evil uncle whose trying to deprive him of his dead father's estate. And under great deception sold him to pirates. Only to be rescued by Commander Folken from a fate worse than death."

"Why did I lend you that horrid book? Is every laundry slave that we meet going to become a Youth of Janga?" Guimel said stripping off his magnetic vest. "You're up Viole-kun."

Miguel stretched his upper arms. "Why do you read that trash? It's bad enough the stuff they make us read for our studies"

"It's not all trash. What about that one in the monastery with the-"

Guimel had given up the argument and went to practice his lunges.

"Of course sometimes it's pornography." He dented the board. "You have such a low mind."

"Low Mind? I don't know why you get so huffy sometimes, Ram boy."

"You could have been honest about his looks." Guimel said motioning over toward the slave.

"I didn't even notice them. I swear Guimel."

"Oh just don't..." Guimel said denting the target board again. Dallet took a few steps back.

"I still think he has an evil uncle." Dallet nodded towards Miguel.

"Peace about it. It's none of our business who or what he is. We should stop pestering it so. It can hear us." Miguel said.

"What?"

"I mean him. He can hear us."

"He seems alright. Quick with a sword, too cocky for his station, though. Good man to have aboard. But Miguel is right. We should stop all this gossip. It is wrong to pester another man's property. It is Commander Folken's concern."

A thick voice resounded above. "Of course it is."

They turned around and looked behind them.

Folken stood towering over all of them. They stepped back respectfully

"Van I believe you've had enough exercise for today. Back to your room."

Van stared at him as if no one had ever ordered him in his life

"Now Van. Would you keep your master waiting?" Folken said bitterly, as if it were a joke.

"Hai." He said sharply with a ridiculous bow., and gathered up his equipment and scurried off. Folken watched him with a look of exasperation on his face.

"I can guarantee you Master Dallet he has no evil uncle out to steal his fortune."

****

Van turned and entered his room.

"Anything else before you shut the bars?"

"This is serious. Do not go near those boys."

"I thought you said I wasn't a prisoner. You tell me when I must practice, when I must bathe, when I must eat and now who I can talk to."

Folken shook his head, "Just not them. It's not-"

"What does that have to do with-"?

Folken touched his shoulder.

"Those boys are the Dragon Slayers. They were the squad that attacked the royal palace."

Van froze.

"Yes those boys. Those monsters."

"But they… they…They are so young. Too young."

Van sank down in his bed.

"I'm young too. Sometimes I forget. They could have been me."

"Don't say that." Folken shook his head, "You would never in a million years turn out like that. You have more strength then they do."

"How do you know?"

They were probably in fact much more normal than him. They were talking about raunchy books, and having little lover's spats and complaining about homework and their masters, insulting each other and helping each other out.

What had made them killers?

Folken shook his head, "I pity them, often. But there is nothing I can do."

"These are the ones who destroyed our kingdom." Van said.

Folken stared at his brother. He would have expected some reaction, some burst of anger. Maybe he was drained of such feelings. Nothing could surprise him about Zaibach. He just stared at the other boys, with a look of isolation.

Folken only began to notice something on Van's skin. His skin was unusually dark for the family, even darker than Father's. It was hard to notice bruises on his skin.

"That's an awfully strange bruise on your neck. You've been too reckless in your practice."

Van got a very frightened look on his face. He lowered his eyes trying to cover the strange red bruise.

"I've been bouting with Dilandau. He is no kitten."

Folken twisted up his brow. Van was hiding something. It wouldn't be below Dilandau to torture him when no one was looking, only pretending to be amicable when he was in the room.

"Watch yourself around him. He harbors you enmity. Do not be alone around him or his Dragon Slayers. They only work for him."

"I thought you were in charge."

"Dilandau is their leader. Though I wouldn't trust him to train a guard dog let alone 15 Alseides Guymelefs. He has broken them to his will. He is a very dangerous creature."

"I can handle Dilandau."

"He is very dangerous. You can't imagine what he would... better not to think about such things."

Van sighed "All right," he looked away. Folken walked towards the door, "Whatever you say… master."

Folken rolled his eyes, "Don't call me that."

Van smiled and the door clicked.

/He thinks that I don't know what Dilandau wants./

In a way Dilandau was less dangerous to him than anyone in Zaibach. He wanted sex, mixed with his fear and danger. He had his lover, the comely enemy Prince and was sated.

Dornkirk wished him to give up his sovereignty. The generals would wish to exploit him and Escaflowne and try to use him as their tool to conquer the entire world, all the while plotting against him. Even Folken had confused him, trapped him. He couldn't begin to guess what he wanted. Perhaps nothing at all, perhaps he only wanted to recapture a memory of his brother.

Now Dilandau had what he wanted, and was satisfied. Dangerously satisfied. Dealing with Dilandau had been the easiest thing to deal with. Not the most pleasant, as the young captain drilled into his half conscious body, but he had nothing else to fear from him. No surprises, no attachments. He could forget about him in the waking hours. Dilandau didn't even have time to come every night. It had been a few days since the book. At least two weeks since that time when he had…

****

He entered his chamber. Van was reading. Of course he wasn't turning the pages. He sat secretly regarding Dilandau with the book in front of his face. Dilandau crossed his arms at the show. Van turned several pages at once to catch up to maintain the illusion of bravado.

"Do you want me to come back Tenshi?" Dilandau touched him

"No." Van said softly, the breath ejecting out of his body in a sharp stab.

"Then I suggest you put down the book."

Van turned a page.

Dilandau looked at him. "Why don't you put down the book and kiss me?"

"Why did you take my sword?" Van said trying not to look up into Dilandau's deep eyes.

"Folken said I could," Dilandau said sitting on the bed.

"Folken… Folken wouldn't leave me alone without anything. He wouldn't leave me without protection."

"Why would you need protection?" Dilandau laughed, "What do you think is going to happen that is so horrible that you'd need to sleep with your sword?" His hand wandered across Van's thigh.

The dark skinned boy tried to move the silver haired boy's hand.

"No. Folken wouldn't let this happen. He wouldn't let you…"

"Why are you so worried about Folken? He's not here," Dilandau rustled his hair through his bare hand.

Van shut the book, " You lied to him."

Dilandau pulled back his hands shocked at the strength of his tone, "Folken couldn't have believed you. It's not true. Folken would have killed you if-"

Dilandau grabbed him. Van didn't blink. Dilandau's eyes slapped him, a swift angry stab at the boy.

Dilandau dropped him and laughed

"If what? He found out his innocent and sweet baby brother liked it? Or that he growls like a jungle cat when I'm inside him, or how he scratches my skin with his bare nails? Or how he likes to bite?"

Van could smell Dilandau's hair. He saw that the collar of his frock coat hid a collar of healthy rose colored bruises of his own

"You wouldn't have told him that. Folken couldn't-"
Dilandau hushed him "Isn't it? I don't know why you care what he thinks Van. I want you Van. You're mine."

"I'm not yours."

His instincts were falling apart. Why couldn't he fight Dilandau off? Had he lost his ability to fight in these few short days, or hours? He was so tired, like he couldn't move. He hadn't even realized he was shedding tears. He wept. Dilandau brushed his eyes.

"It's okay. I won't try to hurt you. I don't think I could. Not by myself. You were very powerful in your melef. You fight like a caged bear."

Van shoved him.

"I can't do this. I can't live like this."

"Van. If I could have your body, I could try to make you forget this…Fanelia is gone, but you're still here. You're not dead. And nothing will change that."

"I couldn't. Only the drug…. That's the only way I could forget."

Dilandau pet his hair away "I'll get it for you then. You won't have to remember anymore."

Van looked into Dilandau's eyes.

"Do you promise? I won't feel anything?"

"No, You'll feel everything. But you won't remember. But I know you Van, you like this. You like feeling this. You like it when I take you. Why else would you dream about me?"

"I don't know."

"But I have to be careful of you my Tenshi. Or you'll bite me."

Dilandau leaned in to kiss him. Van impotently dropped the book on his foot and shoved him away. Dilandau chuckled. Van could have kicked himself. That was showing Dilandau who's the boss. Why was he so pathetic and weak around Dilandau? Why couldn't he ever really hurt him?

Dilandau grabbed his shoulders roughly. Van tried to separate his grip, but instead was shoved into the bed. Van gulped as Dilandau slid shivery cold hands under his shirt.

His face went blank of hatred. With a kind of surprise, as hands, seemed to freeze and pathetically stroke Dilandau's back, almost as if his skin was made of ice. Desperate flailing touches. Dilandau was anything but desperate; his fluid grace prowling over Van like a cat. Van was completely dominated.

Then it was strange. Miguel blinked. A look fell over Van's face as if he was in another place. Kind of like a dead man. Seeing a place no one else can. It didn't disappear when Dilandau kissed him.

Where else would Van want to be? He was in Dilandau's arms, under his kisses.

Miguel wasn't used to watching sex. Normally he was the one being screwed. It seemed so strange. He wondered about it. All it made him do was desire Dilandau more. Imagining his kisses and his young pale body underneath him. It must have been so wonderful.

Miguel stopped and turned his back. This was just wrong. Dilandau couldn't let himself do this. It was beneath him. Dilandau couldn't be defiling Folken's slave. He couldn't be in there, loving this creature. Inhuman, worthless piece of....

But could it be expected to control its passions? It wasn't a human with reason and will power. He had seen that… or maybe just dreamt ... But forever his imagination would be filled with images of the night haired slave turning into a beautiful demon before his eyes. Perhaps he was too quick to judge. He had no idea what Van-Tenshi's past had been. It could have been trained to pleasure, but he doubted that seeing how frightened and inexperienced it appeared. Eventually when you're being messed around with and played with, it's easier to try to enjoy it. Miguel had hustled a bit. He knew that sometimes all you had was that illusion of love.

Tenshi probably liked Dilandau better than Folken. Dilandau was younger, and while Folken was a handsome man, he was nowhere near as beautiful as Dilandau's unrealistic beauty, silver hair and eyes like wine. The little slave had set his designs upon him, like any good hustler. It looked young enough to get confused. Besides maybe in the slave's past it was used to being shared by many others. Tenshi didn't know that as Folken's property, it was improper to be with others.

It seemed so human.

Miguel shut the door to Van-Tenshi's room and continued to block the noises out.

***

Dilandau caressed his lover afterwards. His eyes still so far away. Dilandau wasn't jealous. It was beautiful and alluring. It was yet another mysterious aspect of his pet's personality.

"What is my Tenshi thinking about?"

Van held his hand and took it off his body.

"I wonder what would have happened if she won that race…"

"What race?"

Van turned over. Dilandau drummed his fingers on Van's body waiting for an elaboration. But Van was dosing lightly before he slept.

"Okay I don't care. We'll meet when I can find it. My place or yours"

"Your's Dilandau. We're too close to Folken's rooms. If Miguel won't talk none of the others will either, right?"
"You're very smart. But I think you just want an excuse to come to me."

Van's eyes glittered with anger, Dilandau could see his fist tense.

"You want it this way. You don't want my brother to rip off your head. You'll be lucky if I don't send him instead with your damn threats."

"What threats? You know you-"

Van stood up, "Your guard outside the door, all that shit about telling Folken. You are such manipulative…."

Dilandau kissed him. Van moaned. How dare he do this now? He was angry at him. How dare he make him feel like this? Dilandau got out of his bed. Van spit.

"Goodnight Tenshi."

Van sat in the cool bed straightening where Dilandau had laid his body down. He was gone again. There was nothing again. The night was quiet. There was nothing left, he was too tired for memories. He only had one that he need.

Behind his eyelids she padded on rubber slippers in his imagination. She always ran towards him, and never away.