A high funeral procession was going on in the streets of Astoria

So far I'm calling this "A blue scarf" so far.

Dedication

This is dedicated to all the lovely and ridiculous Allen Schezar societies slowly forming on the EscaYaoiML...

My true feelings for the blond baka. I do love you, even if you are an idiot. Everyone who ever watches the show has to agree with at least half that statement.

A high funeral procession was going on in the streets of Astoria.

The body had very pale skin. His hair remained untouched. The morticians were masterful. He looked as if he was only sleeping. He was laid out in Caeli garb he had worn so dutifully.

The Knights of Heaven were flanking the great hearse, not that there had been much to rescue of the ship. They did find the crushed body in the wreckage of the ship.

In truth this simple funeral engendered more true sadness and hopeless dread than the kings own funeral but one year ago.

"My such sadness. Who has died?" The merchant asked.

The old washerwoman lowered her head "Allen Schezar." She straightened the black armband.

"That is sad. He was full of life and passion. His youth was a power. Now he is gone."

"Was he landed?"

"Not very. He was a warrior. His father was a bit of a kook, and left him to scrape out a living on his own. He became the greatest warrior in the land."

All wore black as the hearse drove by.

A smaller hearse was being pulled behind it. It was horse drawn and still quite nice. This body was in worse condition and so it would not be displayed in state. The horse looked snarky and full of energy. It had been in a paddock for 12 months. It took the poor driver all his effort to prevent him from bolting off.

Somehow it seemed fitting that it would cause so much trouble. Even from beyond death the man didn't want to have a funeral. Gaddess refused to be put it a grave even when he was so obviously dead.

Behind the horse drawn hearse, the Prince Regent and Crown Princess Eries walked on foot.

Dryden Fassa sighed; he let out one of his softer laughs.

"He makes a beautiful corpse. It's a shame his ship crashed and we never got to meet him."

Eries didn't even look at her husband after such a comment.

"He seemed like a good guy. A tad reckless to get caught in a jam like that. I don't know what he did to make that ship crash but…"
Millerna burst out into tears "No, It's not true. Why… it had to be…"

She ran into Eries's arms.

"Dryden." Eries spun her cold eyes at her husband "Be Quiet."

"I'm sorry. I'm just trying to make conversation."

Millerna looked back at him.

"I can't believe it. I know it. Someone was out to kill him. Never has a leviship crashed like that, in a hundred years. And it was so soon after the mysterious attack upon our border. It can't be just- someone killed him."

"He died in a ship crash, my dear girl." Eries said, "It is a tragedy but life will go on."

"I can't believe that. I can't believe fate can do this."

"I'm sorry he died." Dryden said. "It's hard when you lose an old lover, even harder when it's so horrible."

"We haven't even begun a decent formal investigation. How can we know what happened?"

"I think the results are obvious enough. The Crusade took a dive."

"I don't believe it. There is mischief afoot. I can't believe you don't have the courage…"

"Look, sister dear. It's not a question of courage. Zaibach will assume we don't trust their good faith. Then it will be a very messing shouting match and lots of frazzled tempers, all to find out it was only a broken gear or a pilot's error. Do you really think that we would dare insult Folken Fanel thus?"

Dryden looked at his sister-in-law keenly, "It is a question of politics my dear. And as much as you and I and probably your Allen abhor them they are keeping us from catastrophe. We have to meet old stone face later this week and I don't need another stipulation and snafu in this trade agreement."

Millerna bit her lip[ to keep from breaking Dryden's ear drums. Eries grabbed his arm before she could tell him what was really on her mind.

"Come my Lord. Let us leave them alone." Eries lowered her head.

"I don't think-"

"Dryden!" Eries hissed, "We can always complain about Zaibach trade embargo later. Lord knows you will find some inappropriate time to talk of money and business. It is bound to come up sooner or later."

Dryden laughed, "I can't talk to whom I wish."

"You just want to argue with someone. It's your contentious and lovely charm, my lord." Eries stabbed each syllable of that title."

"I think my fair lady would use more civil tones with her lord."

"And I thought he would have the tact to…."

Dryden glared her down. She flared her nostrils and backed down.

It had only been getting worse between the young couple since the King died. It had been getting louder, fiercer and sharp as the edge of a sword. It was as if the last four years of detente with Zaibach, had also been one between the generally tepid couple. The last time Millerna had seen her brother-in-law smile was when his daughter was born. Now the future king wore a permanent look of disgust and contempt. As if everything in this world made him ill.

But it could have been the setting, Dryden was never the type to brood for such long periods, or at least he thought himself not the type. He walked off with his wife from the mausoleum.

Alone in the quiet of the tomb the Princess of Astoria closed her eyes.

Millerna knelt at his bier.

"Allen Allen, why didn't I ever tell you? Why didn't I—" Her heart laid down upon the altar of the tomb, sacrificing itself,

"I could never love a man as I loved you Allen. I love you. I don't care if you are dead. At least you could do before you died is free me. Damn you Allen Schezar. Why- why. I met you twice, and still I remember every word you ever said to me. I remember that you told me a joke about Lord Meiden and I laughed and then we talked about how I grew those roses, and the moon, and I thought that hour couldn't end. And then you left me forever, before—"

She slapped his cold flesh with her hands. She grasped him.

"Why would anyone try to kill you? Why would they steal you from my love?"

What was she to do? She was not a creature made for vengeance. She was small and thin. She wasn't made to do such awful things. And yet not one of the so-called men she knew in this world, not one of them would take his place and do his duty for this knight. It was too convenient that it should happen so close together, the loss of his castle and his own death.

Immediately the Zaibach Ambassador, Folken had offered to help in the installation of a new Knight. They had their own representative their working in his stead. There would never be another Astorian knight at that base, it was clear. She had heard to old men talk, about the seclusion and the height of that base would make it easy to strike an attack against Palas in a matter of two days, less by air. In the marketplace while most girls had their heads filled with the newest lace and pocket watches, Millerna had heard only the grim tidings of munitions, tactical advantage, the wisdom behind the victories and the heralds' announcements. To say a knight had won a battle did not mean a thing unless one knew the effects on the kingdom.

All the warriors in the market place murmured these things. They had filled her head all her life. Her true education in politics came from listening to the people, under the guise of the indulgent fashion plate. She had once bought three pounds of Arcadian chocolate to listen to a whole story.

This War was one she must support as the Princess of Zaibach.

The dignity of her rank was slipping away, all laud and pomp related to her station was vanity she knew this now.

How long would Zaibach allow for this charade to go on? To let Dryden rule as a puppet king, and let them live?

Why couldn't she be sturdier built for this world? Even if she must bear this woman's body, why must it be so frail and small? How she wished she had been born with some kind of strength, some kind of muscle, so she could go somewhere and do something other than listen.

She sighed. In nature, animals did not rely on strength alone. Each animal was given its gifts by the gods. The bear it's strength, the bird it's wings, the snake it's poison. So certain gifts were given to human girls to guard themselves.

She whispered in his ear "Allen I shall avenge thee. I am the least worthy of any to try but I will. I will destroy whoever grasped you out of the air and out of my life. With my charm, with my eyes, with my sweet smiles and sweet voice, I shall beguile and deceive and become all things reviled in my sex to know you are avenged."

She kissed his cool cheek.

Millerna heard footfalls.

A felis girl appeared in the doorway.

The felis girl had bright pink hair. She had a bandage over her face, a strip of gauze down the center of her forehead. The scar was jagged and red and horrific under the bandage. If it healed it would ruin her face. A scar, no makeup, no scarf, no mirror could hide with a jagged hank of hair missing. She held ragged daisy she must have picked herself.

"Allen?"

Millerna looked at her. Their gazes captured each other.

"Who are you?" Millerna asked.

The girl lowered her eyes.

"I'll come back later Ma'am." She bowed and put her hand over bandage, scooting out.

"Oh you poor thing. What happened to your face?"

The felis bristled as she looked at her.

"Nothing. What happened to yours?" she covered her bandage. She tried to get up enough courage to face the blond fancy looking lady looking down at her.

"Just tears in my eyes." Millerna said.

"Well I had to get a bulkhead dropped on me to make me look ugly. I guess some people are born that way." The little cat sniffed. "I guess some people have bigger problems than I do." She said saucily. Millerna looked at her and laughed.

"Well that bandage upon your face has done wonders for your temper." Millerna smiled weakly. "What is your name?"

"Merle."

"Well Merle, why are you here?"

"Because everyone is gone now that the funeral is over, and I wanted to say goodbye to Allen-sama and thank him for trying to save him. And…"

The little girl began crying "Even though he's dead… and he's dead too." She grabbed onto her ears, and covered her tears. "I want to thank him for trying to save Van-sama… because I couldn't. And I can't… I can't even thank him either."

The flower was crumpled at its simple stem, from her tight-balled fist, its petals dark with salt-water splotches. It was wilting and dying in her clenched hand, as she pounded her fist hopelessly.

"I'll let you say goodbye. You knew him. You matter."

Millerna stood over the kneeling penitent.

"I can't thank them. I can't save them. I can't do anything. I can't even say good-bye to Van-sama. They took him and I can't even think he's dead. I'd know. And he's not."

Merle collapsed into her arms, no longer being hugged, but being held up.

Millerna looked at her, her cut beginning to break open again

"Don't do that… You'll break—"

"I'm already broken. My face looks like a monster's." Merle hissed.

"Does it hurt so bad?"

Merle began crying.

"It's not so bad. A scarf or a cap-"

"Caps are for boys." Merle howled. Then she began to laugh. She sounded like an utter idiot, with death and misery in the air she was worried about looking like a boy.

"It would be stylish. I've seen ladies at court wear them. Of course they aren't as pretty. See, you could start a fad. You know only the prettiest and most elegant people can start fads. I should know. I've been trying to catch up to the latest trends all my life. I wish I could start my own trend. "

Millerna remembered something she had kept in her pocket. It was a rather large scarf. She had received it at a tourney or something. All she remembered was that night she saw Allen. She saw him often enough. Some other knight of Caeli gave it to her, but everyday she imagined that Allen had. Millerna had kept a kerchief until Allen would give her one at the guymelef tourney. She looked at the girl. It was brand new. Blue as the colors of the Caeli.

I am being silly. It's not even from Allen.

"See a scarf. A royal favor. I got this from a Knight of Heaven."

"Allen gave this too you. I can't"

"No. Someone else. I did not know him well."

"You are trying to lie aren't you?" Merle said.

Millerna ignored her, pulled up her brightly colored hair and smiled. She tied the blue silk over her forehead. It did go very nicely with her beautiful felis eyes.

"Where have you been staying? Who takes care of you?"

Merle didn't look at her. "I'm Felis. I do better without. That's the way my people are supposed to be. That's what my brother always said."

"Well don't you want—"?

"So everyone can feel sorry for me. I don't deserve it. I didn't even die… They died. They need people to feel sorry for them. I don't need anybody. I just want to be alone."

"Merle, if you would need a place to be…"

"No." Merle straightened her hair under the kerchief. I just have to go on. I can go now. Away, back to myself. So I can forget about Van Fanel and Allen Schezar and Hitomi of the Moon. Back."

"You were with Allen when he… Merle."

Merle froze in a kittenish and awkward position, right in her tracks.

"It doesn't matter anymore. Allen died and Van…."

"Merle." Millerna pleaded.

"What will it do? Talking about it, caring about it. It won't empty graves." Merle clutched her fist.

"I can't turn back. I loved him. I still love him. And I will not turn back." Millerna grabbed her arm.

Merle looked into her eyes "You love him so much that you want vengeance."

"It is all I want." Millerna said clutching at her arm. "It's my only wish."

Merle removed her hand "All I want is Van back. If I could have any wish I'd save him first, the world can go to hell. It would roll to far to get there."

Millerna closed her fist. How could anyone say these things? How could the world be so empty of honor? Is that all everybody wanted? Was there anything else in the world "You were very poorly brought up."

"No. I just only have one wish. You only get one thing you want more than anything. The rest in the end doesn't mean nothing."

Millerna looked at the scarred and scuffed girl who seemed to all so much smaller than her.

"Tell me who killed Allen Schezar. Do you know who our enemy is?"

"Your wish is my command." Merle said, bowing and not curtseying.

Merle sat down and crossed her legs, "I don't know really. I wasn't paying attention. Because see it was so funny." Her face lit up, "See Allen had to pretend to kiss Hitomi. She didn't even know he would she turned red. Van was surprised. The Captain was really surprised. He looked like he shit a kitten- I mean he made a funny face."

She laughed and then caught her laughter in her hand and pushed it back in.

"The Captain he had red eyes, and a red guymelef. Van almost killed him for insulting Fanelia. He was young, like Van was and he had silver hair."

"Is there anything else that could help me prove it was him?"

"I don't know."

"How can I dare to go up against him if I don't have any evidence?"

"No one will believe a little cat girl. You shouldn't ever trust a felis. We lie and cheat a lot. I could just be telling you all this to be nice. A story I made up for giving me a pretty scarf."

"You wouldn't-"

"Miss Lady, don't go after the truth. Move on. This is all just a story I told to get your ribbon."

"I've made a promise."

Merle closed her eyes.

"All your promises won't bring him back." She pulled her hair behind her ears Dilandau was his name, Dilandau Albatou, he was the Captain of the Dragon Slayers. He had 15 warrior guymelefs with him. Dilandau hated Van. They were fighting in their guymelefs last time I saw him."

"And who is Van?"

"Van was the King of Fanelia." Merle said.

"Fanelia, Van Fanel?"

Merle looked to the day sky outside "Now he is dead too. He'll never come back this time." Merle looked at the clouds.

"Say your goodbyes. Go to cold honor and get your vengeance, or go back to yourself. But this is where we must say goodbye."

"Goodbye."

"No not us. If you ever need a lying little cat, I will be around."

"Well then may we meet again Merle."

Merle skipped out the door. Millerna watched her day's glare blinding and changing her into something else. She had left.

***

Van Fanel was waking in yet another strange place. He wasn't on the Vione; he wasn't in his rooms in Fanelia. It was cold as stone.

The man in the woods sat outside the cell, sitting next to the wall. No one had watched him sleep since he was a baby, making sure he wouldn't choke.

"Poor kid." the man's mouth was still. He turned around.

Van secretly stared at this strange man. This pale and young man, so perfect and pure was looking down on him. He had never been looked down upon in his life. He had never been defeated. He had never been pitied. Respected, by some who were close, like Merle and Balgus, feared, by many more who thought his blood or his youth or his recklessness would bring ruination. Even idolized by the few peasants who saw him as their king and icon.

But here in this place he was nothing. This pinnacle of masculine virtue and beauty was better than him in every way. He had never seen such a perfect man, not in his father, not in his brother. He did not think one like this could exist.

"He doesn't have a friend in the world. I hope this will teach him to trust people again."

He felt small and stupid. This pale beautiful man was actually being kind to him, for no reason, other than the natural goodness in his soul. He didn't want to believe such people could exist, that didn't deserve some kind of punishment. He wanted to think a kind man a myth told in fairy tales. But how could he let that happen? Even a broken king could depend on himself.

Van knew he was being kind. And he hated him for it.

There was another man in the cell, black haired with a smile too big for his face.

"He looks hungry."

Van was hungry. Was it written on his forehead?

"I wonder how long he and the girl have been alone. We'll get them food and we'll talk."

Gaddess looked at the blade in his hand. Not the blade, his blade. The blade of the king of Fanelia. The blade that he was responsible for… What had happened? What was the smiling man doing with it?

"Nice sword." Gaddess unsheathed it. "You could probably live a year off the gold." He saluted with it, swishing the metal in the air, "It's bigger than he is."

Van bit his lip. Its worth more than I am... without it I'm not even good enough to be a beggar.

The glint off the signet in the hilt attracted the Knight's eye.

"White and Gold dragon?"

"It looks like two chickens and a pima to me." Gaddess shrugged, "I don't get these family crests at all. Course I never saw a dragon."

"That's Fanelian."

"So the boy's from Fanelia?"

Allen blinked "Gaddess. That boy IS Fanelia. This is the royal seal."

Gaddess scratched his chin "That boy is..."

"We have royalty in our cooling tank Gaddess." Allen smirked. Allen laughed. Gaddess snorted at him

"Yeah right. I guess you should have swept it before you tossed him in there." Gaddess bowed, "That king will probably hang you from the rafters for molesting his royal personage."

"Not funny. You heard what Galen said about the ridge. A whole city was destroyed in one day. Karasukuu Manor, has been silent for days. We can't even reach the castle proper hasn't answered any contact."

"Galen was drunk. And he exaggerates. That's why you don't let him on the turret, because he'd fall off on his ass."

"Why is the King of Fanelia running in the woods?"

"You can ask his majesty." Gaddess bowed with a flourish, "Of course he probably won't want to speak unless you get some bread in his stomach…"

Allen looked into the cell.

"He'll wake up soon,

Van woke up. He clutched the side of his pillow. Three gray hairs pulled out. It was such a strange dream. Seeing something he knows he couldn't have seen. Hearing the banter of these two men.

"This sword is bigger than he is." That sword is bigger than I am. The phrase caught in his brain. It had always meant more than him. Knowing that it was his alone had changed his life. It had never mattered if he was just a little boy who wanted to go away and find his mother. A boy who wanted someone to stay for him so he could cry and no one would yell at him or tell him what he had to feel. It didn't matter. He was 5 years old and they told him he couldn't cry for his mother.

Dreams were too thick these days. They were thicker than reality.

Reality seemed light and dreamy, a kind of misty succession of duties and chores. Practicing, taking silent meals with his brothers, all the things that people did to prevent from dying.

There was nothing by day or night that gave him a place. Just processes, sights, objects. No people seemed to populate this life.And then foggy nights, clouded with nothing, except these dreams.

In his life he could have never imagined that he was lonely. His mind too troubled by his duties. Now without there was nothing: nothing to comfort him, nothing to pad him from his guilt of his actions. There was no one to tell him he was doing the right thing. If he was doing what was best for Fanelia.

He had sinned taking his own life. He knew it, it weighted upon his chest. To end his pain he would have left his people without a leader. He was so selfish. How could he think about the pain of his own conscience when so many people died because he was a weak king? He would abandon the life so many innocents had been wretched from. He'd kill himself when so many children died by the deadly rain of guymelefs, he would chose poison when mothers were stabbed by metal crema claw.

Folken had told him very sincerely that the world would miss him if he died and that too many would grieve. In his sweet way he said the same things. "I love you my brother. If you would die I would lose hope."

That was strange. Van didn't even have hope anymore. Only these dreams. The same characters, the same faces, coming back to him like seasons, with a hundred masks.

There was only one who made him life. Without him, his life was so quiet he could hear his heart break. He remained as wisely away as a person could. Folken had rattled him. He wasn't really afraid of legal retribution, only of Folken. He never realized that there was a world outside of the Vione. He did not think about what his political enemies could charge him with, and what would happen to the Dragon Slayers if he should be charged with such crimes, what would happen to Zaibach if it's proud young captain would bring ruination upon himself. He was a child.

He did not know what the world was. He'd never met a person who was more innocent of himself and his world. Sure he had met Allen Schezar, whose goodness had sickened, but that was not Dilandau. Dilandau was as innocent as a forest fire. Van had burned himself upon Dilandau's purity.

Dilandau was looking up at his ceiling imagining himself flying in the grooves of the tiles.

Van stood on the edge of the door.

His body was off balance breaking out of the statue like stiffness he had noticed everyone stood. His hand rested on his hip, the gesture of a warrior who was used to drawing his dagger. But showing the lines of his body, beautiful lines. The way Dilandau stood with the soft curve of his elbow challenging him. To see another stand like this was strange.

Dilandau flipped the other way, so he could see his Tenshi the right way.

"Where is your brother tonight?" Dilandau asked strangely.

Letting Dilandau find the answer in his silence. Dilandau snorted. He didn't like it when Van wouldn't speak.

Van's look boiled him as he walked in. His eyes were so soft it was hard to believe he was a human being and not an angel.

"I've had a bad dream."

"And…?"

"There's a monster under my bed."

Dilandau rubbed his face, "What are you doing in here?" But Van wouldn't answer, just let each question float in the air like an odor. Give Dilandau nothing.

Dilandau was already reaching over the side of his bed. Reaching for his sword or his diadem. "They are all bad. I don't want to dream anymore."

"Even the ones with me are bad?"

Van smiled, "No, of course not, with you…"

Never with Dilandau when Dilandau was in his dream, he was doing all those horrible things to him. He was hurting him; he was in pain. Then he could wake up trembling and shaking and thank the gods it was a dream.

He wanted to wake up from such dreams. He wanted to live. He wanted to run. After he had his nightmares about Dilandau his brain boiled and fumed and he would work on his plans…

But this had been a horrible dream.

He was still king, his mother was still alive. Hitomi was there. Merle was there.

There was no fire, no blood. Even Allen did not seem so bad.

He hated those dreams.

He never wanted to wake up.

Van sat on his bed, "Can I sleep with you?"

Dilandau sat up stiffly. It looked like no one had ever asked him for sex before. Someone must have asked him at some time, anyone. Dilandau was a pretty boy with a lot of power, girls admired pilots, should it be any different amoung boys too.

"Well, just… I wasn't dreaming either. I can't dream anymore. I can't sleep. I never go to sleep."

Van knew why better than he could. Van had lost many nights to worry, even before the Vione, in his palace of blue stone in a bed of feathers.

"You need to relax. Your mind is going too fast." Van said, his hand reaching towards Dilandau's face. Slowly his finger rising up and brushing his nose.

"Since when the concern?"

"It's not concern. I'm just saying what I'm supposed to. I know you would never relax. I'm the same way. If you had to relax you would rot in the silence." Van said.

Dilandau lowered his eyes "You are right. I don't like to think about it." Van felt his pulse quicken even from there. He had touched a chord. Dilandau's body and brain were swirling around him. Pleasant feelings and unpleasant thoughts

"But you can't help it," Van laid down next to him on his bed, "Your mind is always moving inside of you." He touched his forehead "Even when your eyes close. Nothing can stop it. You know what it feels lik—"

Dilandau shut his lips with a kiss. He didn't want to talk like this, about such silly things. Folken might appear any second. Why was Van coming here to him again? Dilandau didn't want to think that Folken could appear and kill him for touching his very pretty little brother again. He was hoping to visit Van again when Folken went to Astoria. But he had never imagined this happening. Van had caught him off guard. But he didn't care, he wasn't expecting any surprises tonight.

"I can think of something to help me relax. When I'm with you, it's like I'm dreaming of you too. But only when I see you. Not at night." Dilandau wrapped his arms around him. Van's smile glittered.

"That's it being around you is like a dream." Dilandau smiled at the clever little thing he said, hoping Van would be impressed.

"You are trying to beguile me, aren't you?" Van said resting his head against his nude shoulder.

Dilandau smiled, "I think you'd like me to screw you."

Van gulped in his breath. Dilandau tried to back him into the wall, but Van stood his ground. Van laughed and stroked Dilandau's face, "Why not? I'm not sleeping either."

Dilandau blinked this time.

"Maybe it will put me to sleep." Van said.

That threw Dilandau off his feet, such an insult to think that Dilandau wasn't thrilling and perfect. Van ripped the tie in Dilandau's shirt. Soft, expanding to the cool white flesh underneath. Dilandau stared as Van kissed his cheek.

Van sniffed scornfully "Now you just want to stare at me. Let's do something."

Dilandau's confusion and lack of power made him smirk. Why should Dilandau get to call all the shots. Maybe he did want Dilandau to have sex with him? Maybe he did need the fury of another night in his arms. Maybe he should pretend to like it and slit Dilandau's throat when he wasn't looking. He shouldn't think about it too much. His head hurt already.

Van took off his shirt.

"What do you want to do to me?" his brown young body was crouching on the bed.

"Gods I want to be inside of you." Dilandau almost whimpered with lust, "You're so sweet."

"All right." Van nodded his head. "Just don't hurt me. You said you wouldn't hurt me."

"If this is what you want…" Dilandau stroked his naked arm.

"Close your eyes, Van."

Dilandau grabbed Van by the back of his black hair as they kissed, his fingers twining deeper until it must have stung his scalp. His movements lowered his pet down to the bed. That strange unbreakable hold. His neck wasn't even forced. There was no force. Van's body folded like a book, retreating onto the bed.

Dilandau let go of his hair with forgiving strokes. His hair was coarser than his own soft silver hair. It sent a thrill into his fingertips. Pulling that head up for a kiss. He could operate with his eyes closed.

Van lay corpse-still. His hand was even swinging of the edge of the bed. If he didn't move it wouldn't hurt. He wouldn't be alive. So it couldn't hurt. He was nothing, the inside of himself so quiet, not even the sound of his heartbeat.

Dilandau lifted his arm and traced his hand around Van's smooth stomach. He shuddered at the feeling of Van's hand as he removed his breeches, underneath long lean legs. Van's flesh was so warm against his.

"Um. Touch me Van."

Van looked up at him.

The Prince didn't think twice before smacking across the face.

Dilandau was a little stunned. "No, I don't mean like that..." he grumbled. Dilandau clutched him to his breast. Their arms ate each other.

Van's hands clawed into his back. "I...." His eyes were painted with anger; he could feel the inside of his mouth burn with shame.

As Van grabbed him, Dilandau's teeth grated against each other like two knives, the sharpness of the sensation hurting his mouth and sending thrilled and excited feelings to his nerves. "Yes. Tenshi-sama. Yes..."

Van bit hard into Dilandau's neck. He wanted to tear him to little pieces. But there was nothing but his cool white flesh and hot blood. There was nothing else. He could tear or slash that skin but Dilandau wouldn't stop. Neither could Van. Van's fingers hooked over his buttocks, lean and hard. His nails didn't even make him bleed.

While Dilandau treated his skin like silk. Soft wandering touches of his tongue, playing with the taste of his sweat in his mouth. Nothing could escape him. He was naturally gentle, just greedy. Desiring every sensation and feeling he could from his form.

Van had never imagined how gently Dilandau could hurt him. It came in a word, a pat on the shoulder. It would wash over him. Make his guts twist. He'd crawl under the bed. By the cruel good looks of Dilandau, his capricious temper, his love of fire, Van would have thought he would have been vicious in bed. One of those royal perverts. Dilandau only wanted to feel good. When he didn't he got angry. It was such a simple way to live.

Van envied him.

Dilandau was thicker than him, he had noticed: a definite grower, his lust swelling his cock. He could barely believe it. Dilandau's lust was piqued beyond reason now. He tore into him, an unthinking creature carried on waves of his own pleasure, thrusting inside of him deep and hot, the feeling of fire washing over anything he felt

Dilandau thrust himself deeper. Van braced himself against the mattress. Van let out a shuddering sigh. His nails slipping through the skin on Dilandau's back. Dilandau's hand stroked his face absently.

Van grabbed the palm Dilandau offered, and bit it, but his teeth couldn't cut the skin. Dilandau winced at the pleasure. Van pinched his teeth harder against Dilandau's palm with each buck of his hips. Like a shot of a cannon recoiling and exploding pain into each of them over and over.

He wanted to remind Dilandau of the pain of touching him: taking his time, stringing this torture along.

No one ever had the intention of hurting him. No one would.

***

Folken arrived at the view chamber at the heart of the Vione. He stimulated the contact system to the royal compound. Dornkirk would probably be expecting his call. The old man always knew when he would. It wasn't his fate predictor either. Before he had placed himself in that plastic and glass prison, Dornkirk always knew when Folken wanted to talk. Folken had never figured it out himself.

"Destiny sees that I must see you Folken. In my device I cannot see for there is much interference with the dragon."

"Dornkirk-sama, what do you really wish? I do not want to overstep my bounds."

"The interference on the Vione is too great to go unnoticed. Tell me how we would rid it." Dornkirk said.

Folken had rarely seen the emperor so willing for his advice. It was shocking. It seemed more and more at these meetings he depended upon Folken, rather than commanding him. How could Dornkirk be asking him what he felt.

"You would let me get rid of Dilandau." Folken ejected before he would take it back "He has done disgraceful things to my brother and to me. I cannot abide his insolence."

Dornkirk let a strange sigh escaped lips that could not be heard by the synthesizer.

"The Child Made has insulted your pride, your honor…"

Folken lowered his eyes.

"Has Dilandau impeded your ability to command through insubordination?"

"No. But if his willful pride does not stop, I will be forced to call him before the consul of Sonopolis for Grapheo Hubreo, and he will have less friends than he thinks."

"When he commits an act so great I will not stand in your way. Until then you will keep him aboard the Vione until your voyage to Astoria."

Folken couldn't explain to him the fury in his heart, but he had to protect Van. "Dornkirk-sama, he wishes to corrupt my brother to his wants. He wants to-"

"As we coerce his cooperation for the Dragon."

"But he wants to…."

"Will your brother survive what Dilandau does to him?"

"That is not, the question is honor-"

"Where is honor? Where are these things he injures? Are they on your skin, a part inside of your body? Where is honor?"

The old debate raged. He had asked Folken that as a young boy, in Zaibach, as Dornkirk kept him away from the edge of his own knife. "I still could not tell you after these years, My Emperor."

"There will be only one great honor I can think of. If we succeed imagine the good we will do. Imagine how we would have sacrificed ourselves. When you speak of your honor, you speak of only yourself. We must not concern your needs right now. There is one honor you have pledged your life too."

"Umae Kayim."

Folken looked into the coldness of the emperor's face.

"There is not a thing in our reign that has not happened ten times. No crime, no hubris, no perversity that is new to me. Boys are as they were 400 years ago, vile detestable and wicked creatures."

Not my brother—"

"The dragon live to serve us. And in serving our purpose their shall be no greater honor."

Folken felt a sickness in his stomach.

"I do not dismiss your concern. If The Dragon should die or be harmed, you would be broken, and our plans will fall apart. We must wait until The Child Made reveals to us the source of the interference. You know this. The only reason you bring this to me because you assume our authority as Emperor can destroy your problem."

"I must admit Dilandau is just getting on my nerves."

"There is no harm in boldness. The excess of it in your primitive soul, it has always made me admire you. As I have curbed and leashed your bestial and lowly nature, so I have learned much of my self."

"You will help him?" Folken asked

"It is my destiny. Our fates our linked the Dragon and I."

Folken blinked. The emperor had slipped in his speech. He used the term I. Never in there acquaintence had he done such a thing.

"Had I known you would have been the one to bring us together? Folken you are indeed a marvel."

Folken furrowed his brow "How are you connected with my brother?"

"It is said when I was a young man long ago, in my world."

Folken stared. Why was Dornkirk speaking like this to him? What had come over him?

"A Gypsy woman on the road to Cambridge. In her cart I sat, master of my world. He, that had the scientists and thinkers in his hand, was deflated. The last thing she said to me 'Beware of the White Dragon, he will bring you all you can fear.'"

"That is merely a superstitious fortune."

"I have always believed it. For in me it was the only thing I would wait for. And the fear of that statement has kept me where I am."

"It has come to pass that we would observe the dragon in action. Then we shall decide his final fate. You go to Astoria in a fortnight? Your brother shall attend upon me at Court in Sonopolis. As this comes sooner than I had intended, so the Child Made and his Dragon Slayers will join the front lines in a minor skirmish on the edge of Daedlus. So it seems fit." Dornkirk told him. "Indeed fate smiles on us one more time before we leash her."

Folken caught his breath. Even now could he doubt the brilliance of Dornkirk? The man just knew him. Yes Destiny was on their side now. "Yes my lord."

***

Dilandau was laying to the side of him chuckling lightly. He pulled back his damaged hand. "You're an animal." Panting and shuddering with laughter, then kissing his wounded limb, like a cub.

"I was trying to teach you a lesson." Van said panting. He'd be walking funny tomorrow. Normally he scheduled his days to hide Dilandau's effect. But he doubted that he could hide it after tonight.

"What was that?"

"I don't want you to touch me anymore."

Dilandau chuckled. Van shrugged, trying to get Dilandau's hands off of his body.

"I wish you would just stop pretending. You'd rather see me dead. I don't know why you don't have the courage to face me as a real man."

"Kill you? Why?" Dilandau said with a questioning lilt. "You make me happy. You're very pleasant." Dilandau held Van's hand over his chest and kissed him.

"You're doing this because I'm pleasant?"

"I'm glad I didn't kill you now. You're beautiful. I don't know how you expect me to stop. Your skin is so smooth. " Dilandau traced a kiss on his stomach. He latched onto Van's hair "Your hair is soft like night. I've never seen hair so dark. And your mouth…"

Dilandau stole another kiss. Van bit Dilandau's lips. This time they bled. "Except for those teeth. You expect me to keep my hands off? Why don't you just ask me to stop eating pulovas or stop piloting or become a monk or something? You are a lot sweeter."

"Why do you want to gloat about this? Just leave me…."

"You're just so sweet. Everything about you." Dilandau petted him. "I was wondering how Folken could keep his hands off. He's always been timid, a coward when it comes to going after what he truly desires."

"My brother?"

"He couldn't even admit he wanted me. He said I was being disgusting and wicked when I approached him. But if he hated my touch so much, why hasn't he kicked off his ship? He knows he can't have me and it makes him sick. And he'll never be like me. There is never going to be another me."

Dilandau's self-absorption could be cute sometimes. Thinking that Folken's anger was nothing more than misplaced sexual tension. He crawled over Van looking down on him.

"But that's why you are different Van, from him, from me. You're very nice. There's nothing in the world that could stop me...."

Dilandau waited over him. Van stared at him with something new and hot and weak in his eyes. Dilandau still looked as soft as a child

"Please. Just don't—"

Dilandau trailed his finger down his chest and around his nipple.

"I can't believe this is new to you too. No one has tried to take you before." Dilandau deep voice rattled in his ear. Claiming him, touching him as if nothing he could say could deter him. There wasn't a punishment in the world that wasn't worse than this.

Van had never realized that Dilandau could have such a keen appreciation for his beauty. He sounded like an addict. Not like he was in love, though this fanaticism did require something of it. If Dilandau had loved him it also would have meant that he would see Van as a person, instead of just this delightful and sweet morsel of flesh.

But what else was he? Could Van be a man? Not after these disgraces, the failure, the weakness, the cowardice, the treachery of his body.

Van began to notice how sharply his body reacted to Dilandau now, and how exquisite the slight contrast between those shadowy nights. Dilandau could make him feel very good in his body. Sometimes it clouded his hatred, sometimes it stopped his thoughts.

Dilandau pushed him against the bed; Van couldn't even close his eyes. Dilandau's face inches from his barely close enough to breath in the too sweet air.

"Kiss my hand." Dilandau placed his palm against the side of his face.

Van tried to get up.

"Aren't you sorry you bit me there? Doesn't that make you feel just awful?"

Van rolled his eyes.

"I know you are. I know you don't want to hurt me. I don't want to hurt you either. That's how I know." Dilandau pouted his lips. "You'd never really hurt me."

Van looked right into his eyes.

Dilandau's eyes shrunk with fury. He smacked Van against the chin.

"You're sorry you hurt me."

Van was shocked in the swift change of temper.

"No I'm not, I-"

Dilandau grabbed his throat. Van gasped in a breath.

"You see Van you can't do that. You can't just hope that they stop breathing. You have to break their little throat. Snap. Snap."

Van could feel the blood draining out of his brain. Whatever Dilandau was doing it was working. Van collected the last of his free senses to grab Dilandau's injured hand. He brushed his lips against it. He tried to beg him to stop.

Dilandau loosened his grip, and smiled letting him down onto the bed. Van kissed his hand.

"That means you're sorry you bit my hand." He said simply.

"I'm sorry I bit your hand." Van said with his first breath of air, intoning hollow words.

"You never want to hurt me. Do you, Van?"

"I'll never hurt you Dilandau." Van trembled.

"See. I'll never hurt you then. It's very simple."

The hand that tried to kill him brushed his navel. "See we each learned something tonight. You learned that I will never hurt you, and the proper way to crush someone's throat, Thumb in the trachea, squeeze and snap. Just like Daddy taught me"

Van started at the noise. Dilandau touched his flushed face with that same hand, trying to smooth out the dread.

"I'd never hurt you Van. You must know this. I just wanted to make sure…"

"Of course. I'd never hurt you either." Van repeated wishing he would stop looking at him. His lungs were going to pop with fear.

"I learned something too."

"What?" Van swallowed.

"I wasn't strong enough to do it with my left hand. Do you think I should…."?

Van's eyes grew.

"I'm kidding. There's only one way to practice and we don't have enough prisoners on board."

Van clutched his throat. Whatever happened within this room now could happen. He shouldn't have let himself get dragged out here, without any way of getting help. But if Folken found him like that, what could he say.

"Van you better leave before your brother finds you here."

"Yes." Van lowered his head. Folken couldn't know what Dilandau was. He couldn't know what this strange thing was between them. Dilandau could have killed him, as he had so many others. It wasn't about left hands or strength. He could have done anything. But Dilandau was only what he was. Nothing less. There was only one of him.

Dilandau could let him live, the only one who would spare him.

The silver-haired boy smiled and looked at the bite mark against his pale hand "You know Van now that you kissed it my hand feels a lot better. I think you fixed it."

Van couldn't believe he was hearing this. A quick laugh jumped out of his throat before he realized it didn't belong in the air. Dilandau smiled.

"You should put a bandage on it."

"I'm sure you've had you're shots."

Van ran his lips with his thumb, opening Dilandau's mouth only slightly. He brought his head so close Dilandau could feel the air enter his mouth. But Van did not have the courage to kiss him and walked away. He would kiss Van again.