Eric shivered as a cold wind blew down through the trees and up under his cloak. He had been walking for what seemed like weeks now, even if it had truly only been about three hours. He knew the way to his uncle's house. He had walked there twice a month to deliver fresh eggs with his mother.

That memory had tears welling up in the small boy's eyes.

"Mother…" Eric sniffed and refused to let the tears spill down his cheeks. He would be strong. He would make his father and sister and mother proud. He would avenge what Zaibach had done to his village and save all of Gaea from Zaibach's evil.

As soon as he found himself one of those handy guymelefs that all the famous Knights had. Boy, what he could do with one of those.

While Eric fantasized about his heroic future, he stumbled off of the path to his Uncle's house. A loud crash of thunder shook the air and frightened him out of his daydream. Looking around, Eric quickly realized with a little panic that he was lost.

Trying to get his bearings back, the nine-year-old tripped and fell over something hard. Getting to his knees, Eric examined what he had fallen over. He flicked it with his fingers, and a low, metallic echo filled his ears. His eyes grew wide as he looked up, and saw a giant guymelef looming just beneath the canopy of treetops. Eric opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out as he scrambled backwards away from the melef. His hand connected with something sharp and he stopped, putting his cut hand in his mouth, and turning to see what had attacked him.

Eric found himself in the middle of a small campsite, and he had cut his fingers on the sword of a sleeping man. No problem there. That is, except the fact that the sword was connected to the sleeping man.

Eric gritted his teeth and slowly moved away from the sleeping figure. He hid behind a bush, and peeked out at the man, wondering who he was, and why he had his middle all wrapped up in a white cloth like that. Then Eric saw the blood, and he realized that the man was not sleeping at all, but passed out from his injury.

Eric, being an innocent, young, and naïve boy, decided it was his duty to save the sleeping man. Eric walked up and nudged his shoulder a bit. He tapped the sleeping man's face and tried to wake him.

"Hey! Hey YOU!" Eric screamed, an inch away from the man's face.

The man startled and jumped to attention. "Yes, Dilandau-sama…" he mumbled.

"Dilly what?" Eric asked, amused.

"What, who the hell are you?" the man asked, but Eric could now see that he wasn't a man at all, and probably only in his teens.

"I'm Eric, and you're hurt."

"Who the hell is Eric, and what are you doing here?" the man asked grumpily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and gasping a bit as he sat up, gingerly touching his wound.

"I am Eric, and I am here to save you." Eric said importantly, beaming at the teen.

"Save me from what? What is going on? Where's Dilandau-sama?" the teen was very disoriented.

"From your wound. You're hurt and I'm here to help, and I don't know who that is or where he is." Eric stated matter-of-factly, answering all of the questions in order.

The teen suddenly looked very tired and annoyed. "Go away," he growled, and got slowly to his feet.

Eric reached down to help, but was only shrugged off. "I said go away! Can't you hear?"

"What happened to you? Is that your guymelef? Where are you from? Can I fly your guymelef? What's your name? Who is Dilandau-sama? Are you lost? How did you-" Eric began spitting out questions as he walked next to the boy.

"Shut up! What is wrong with you? Isn't your mother calling you or something?" the boy waved the younger one away, carefully shrugging back into his armored coat.

Eric's eyes bulged at the armored coat the boy shrugged into. "You are a soldier, aren't you?" the boy gasped, in complete awe.

"No, I am not a soldier. I am a Dragonslayer. Now leave me be before you really piss me off. I usually try to stay away from killing little kids but the mood I'm in right now-"

"A dragon slayer?!" Eric gasped happily, all his childhood fantasies coming true. "You're a real, live dragonslayer? Wow!"

Eric began to follow the teen around while he packed up his gear and took it to the Alseides unit. The teen faltered for a second when his wound painfully reminded him of the reason for his fainting spell.

"Oh, Gods help me…" The teen moaned, his vision swimming again.

"Don't worry, they will. And so will I." Eric said importantly. "What is your name?"

"What?" The boy groaned; half out of it from blood loss.

"Your name. I told you I was Eric, now you tell me your name. That is how friends are made, isn't it?" Eric asked, grinning.

"Friends?"

"That's right. So you are…" Eric gestured with his hand.

"Viole…" the teen boy smiled, his senses losing him as he once again slipped into darkness. "I'm Viole…"

Eric sighed and turned Viole on his side, exposing the dragonslayer's wound. "We're going to be great friends, Viole, I know it. And then you can teach me to be a dragonslayer, just like you…"

Iris blinked her eyes open slowly, and waited for the pounding in her head to begin. When it did, she moaned and brought her hands up to her temples.

A voice off to her right chuckled lightly. "You should feel extremely lucky, young lady," the deep voice said.

Iris, in a rare mood, forgot to be afraid and scoffed. "What the hell could I possibly consider lucky about my situation?" she asked bitterly.

"You are alive," a tall man came into her view. He had spiky gray hair and a purple tear tattooed on his cheek. He wore a dark cape and his features were serious, although not hard. "Not many people who anger Dilandau as you have live to tell about it."

Iris's eyes narrowed. "He is who angered me. And it will be him that does not live to tell about it."

Again, the slight chuckle echoed through out the room. "I believe you both will have and interesting go of this."

"Where am I?" Iris demanded, and tried to sit up, only to find her wrists and ankles bound to the bed she was lying on. "What the hell? Hey! Who are you?" she yelled at the man. "Let me go! How dare you treat a prin-" Iris stopped herself and gasped. She had almost given herself away! "A…prisoner like this…" she finished lamely.

The man smiled. "Oh, and how should we treat our stowaways? Like guests, and thank them for their stay?"

"Uh, I only meant that…what I said was…" Iris stuttered.

"No need for lies, princess. We know exactly who you are."

Iris's cheeks flamed. "Then that is a worse crime on your part. Treating me like this after you know perfectly well that I am royalty. You'll be severely punished."

"You are in no position to be making threats, princess." A voice rang out from the doorway.

Iris's eyes grew wide as she recognized the voice immediately.

Him.

"Dilandau, what do you need?" The man asked.

"For you to leave, Folken. Quickly." Dilandau sneered at the taller man.

Folken walked closer to the teen, and warned him. "You will not harm this girl, is that understood?" he said quietly.

Dilandau's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You will not order me around. Is that understood?"

Folken narrowed his own eyes back at Dilandau.

"I take my orders from Lord Dornkirk, and maybe General Adelfous if I am in a good mood. But never you, Strategos, never you." Dilandau pushed past Folken and slammed the door.

Iris closed her eyes and tried to remain calm. She was strapped to the bed, and completely and utterly defenseless. Not good at all.

Dilandau placed his hands behind his back and walked up behind Iris. He leaned down and placed his hands on either side of her head. "Well, what do we have here? Hmm?" he snickered. "A little defenseless bitch on a bed. Is this my lucky day or what?" Dilandau leaned down over her face, and Iris spat at him.

Dilandau blinked, and grinned. "Oh, you're a spirited one, you are." He walked from behind her and stopped at her side. "We'll have to see what we can do about that."

Wiping the spit from his face, Dilandau brought his other hand across Iris's face so hard, the impact split her lip wide open and snapped her neck to the side.

Iris whimpered a bit, but refused to cry out. Hot, involuntary tears began to fill one eye as the stinging pain set in. Her tongue gingerly slipped past her lips as she inspected the damage there. She tasted the blood, and shut her eyes tightly. She would never shed one tear in front of this boy. Never.

She turned her head back towards him, and glared at him, her eyes cold and filled with loathing.

"I'll have to teach you manners, young lady." Dilandau laughed. "First, you stow away in my melef without even asking," he began, circling the bed as he spoke. "Then you attack me in my own fortress, and then you spit in my face. Tsk-tsk, princess. Is that any way for royalty to act?"

"How dare you speak to me about my actions when it was you who mercilessly slaughtered hundreds of men, women and children, and laughed while doing it." Iris said quietly, her voice dripping with rage.

Dilandau smiled. "Ah, yes. Your people. Well, it should help you to know that they did not die in vain…" Dilandau theatrically placed a hand over his heart as he stood in front of her, at the foot of the bed. "They provided a well needed stress reliever and a good hour of entertainment for me!" he finished, laughing.

"You BASTARD!" Iris fought against the restraints and longed to claw that grin off of his handsome face.

Handsome? She scolded herself. How can you even think of that horrible murdering monster as handsome?

Dilandau smiled down at her, coming back to her side, and sitting on the bed. "Now, now. You'll hurt yourself struggling like that. Look, you already have, your wrists are all raw and bloody. That wasn't necessary at all."

Dilandau looked on the stand next to the bed and saw a syringe full of a blue-ish liquid. He picked it up and tapped the side, checking for air bubbles. "This is for your own good, your highness," Dilandau smirked as he grabbed onto her arm and squeezed, looking for a vein. "I don't want you to hurt yourself any more."

He leaned down and put his mouth next to her ear. "That's my job," he whispered, and smothered her screams of protest with his own mouth as he kissed her and slid the needle into her arm, pumping the drug into her body.

Iris struggled for all she was worth, and then felt the drug fill her body and overcome her strength. There was also something just as weakening about having Dilandau's lips on hers. She was repulsed at first, and then, just when other thoughts started entering her mind and she thought she might actually like the feeling he was causing in her, the drug pulled her down, and drowned her.

Iris moaned softly in surrender to the drug and to Dilandau. He pulled away from her quickly, and backed away. He looked at his hand; it was shaking a bit. Dilandau disregarded that and tossed the syringe down, and walked from the room.

"Dilandau-" Folken began when he saw Dilandau quickly leave the room.

"Shut up, Folken," Dilandau snapped and pushed open the door to his room. Tossing his sword on the ground next to his bed, Dilandau flopped down on the huge mattress, staring up at the ceiling.

What had he been thinking, kissing her like that? What could possibly have possessed him to do such a thing? Women were not for him, he told himself. They were weak and annoying creatures.

He stripped off his armor and boots, and lay back with his hands locked behind his head. He closed his eyes and tried to force it from his mind. But the feeling of her lips on his would not let him forget.

I did it to silence her, that's all. Dilandau reasoned.

Simple as that. He had done it so that Folken would not hear her cry out as he pushed the needle into her arm.

Because she would have. She did. I felt her scream go into my mouth. I swallowed it. Because women are weak. She screamed…and I…

Dilandau growled and threw a glass that sat next to his bed against the far wall in frustration. The shattering sound made him smile as he relaxed a bit.

What am I worried about? I am the captain of the Dragonslayers and if I desire to kiss a woman I have every goddamned right to. Dilandau told himself. In fact, I feel like doing it again. I liked her...IT. I liked IT, not her, just the kiss. And I will kiss her again if it pleases me to do so.

"Damn straight," Dilandau muttered, and fell into the blackness of sleep.

While Dilandau slept, the feeling of her would not leave him. He dreamt. He dreamt of her. She sat in a sunny field of flowers, her red hair blowing gently in the wind. The whole scene would normally have sickened him, but he was fixated on her. She stood and smiled at him. How could he dream her smile? He'd never truly seen it…

"Come…" she beckoned. "Come closer, Master Dilandau…"

And he obeyed. Dilandau walked closer and lifted a hand to her. He touched her cheek and it was soft. She smiled again. That imagined smile. It was beautiful. She was beautiful. He hoped the smile was real, and that it would look like that when he really saw her smile. It was strange, to be able to think things like that in a dream. It was strange…

Suddenly Dilandau couldn't think at all. She was too close. It angered him; panicked him.

"Stop it…" he murmured to her.

"You don't want me to." She stated as she ran her hand through his silver hair.

"Yes, stop…please." Dilandau felt ill when that weak word came out of his mouth. He was pleading with her. Him, the Diabolical Adonis of Zaibach, was pleading with a female to spare him. Not from pain or death, but from-

"Love me," she whispered against his mouth.

"No," Dilandau choked out, while leaning into her mouth.

She pulled away, her lips still touching his, but barely. Sweet torture. "Yes," she argued.

"I don't love, I only hate, I only destroy…" Dilandau said, his hands sliding up her sides.

"Love me," she insisted.

"I can't," Dilandau pleaded with her, trying to pull her closer to him. She was like a drug. He couldn't get enough. "Please, let me touch you…"

"Love me, Dilandau." She repeated.

Dilandau looked into her eyes, lost. "Yes," he whispered.

She smiled, and kissed him finally. Dilandau was lost. His mind swam with happiness. Then, the girl bit his lip.

"Hey," Dilandau tried to pull away, but she grinned at him evilly, pulled out a dagger, and plunged it into his back.

~*~*~*~*~

Dilandau sat straight up in bed, sweat running down his chest and back. He ran his hands over his face, shoving his hair out of his eyes. He pulled off the covers and swung his legs out off bed, putting his bare feet to the floor.

But it wasn't the floor he felt. Something warm and soft was under his feet.

"What the hell?" Dilandau pulled his legs back up, whatever he had stepped on moaned.

"What the hell?" the feminine voice echoed Dilandau's disgust.

Dilandau flicked the switch to turn on the gas lamp in his room and waited for the spark to catch and light the stream of gas.

When it finally lit the room, two gasps echoed off of the walls.

"You!" they both yelled.

"What the fuck are you doing in my room?" Dilandau growled.

"Oh shut up. You put me here." Iris narrowed her eyes in disgust.

"What the hell are you talking about? Of course I didn't put you here. Why in gods name would I want you anywhere near me?" Dilandau sneered down at her.

"You didn't seem so upset to have me near you when you kissed me, you sadistic bastard."

Dilandau rolled his eyes. "I only did that because I knew you would be an annoying girl and scream. And I was right."

"I don't care why you did it, you had no right. How dare you force yourself on me like that?" Iris spat.

Dilandau narrowed his eyes and leaned over her face. "You should be careful what you accuse me of, princess. I wouldn't want rumors to get around that I had raped you. I hate rumors. I would just have to make them true, so they wouldn't be rumors anymore. Then I wouldn't mind." He leaned down closer. "Is that what you want?"

Iris closed her eyes and turned her head away.

Dilandau smirked. "That's better." He moved to get out of bed from the other side, changed his mind, and just stepped on her.

Iris coughed and curled herself around her bruised stomach.

Dilandau knelt next to her and jerked her arm up. She had been secured to the bed by a chain and a metal manacle around both wrists. He tossed her arms down, and growled.

"Goddammit, Folken." He whispered, and stalked out of the room.

"Hey! Where are you going! You just can't leave me here like this!"

"Shut up." Dilandau closed his door with a loud click and made his way to Folken's chambers. He banged on the door with his fist and screamed at Folken to get up. When there was no reaction after about three knocks, Dilandau raised his foot and kicked down the door.

"Dilandau, so nice to see you." Folken griped sarcastically, squinting against the sudden invasion of light.

"Folken who the hell do you think you are?" Dilandau said quietly, dangerously.

"I suppose you found your new servant. Are you displeased with her? I thought you'd be happy to have another one. You've been complaining that you've had to do everything yourself since your last servant…disappeared."

"Servant? Her? No. Absolutely not." Dilandau crossed his arms.

"Why not? She's able bodied, is she not?"

"Why isn't she in the prison? I thought she was a prisoner."

"She is, the prisons are over crowded. Besides, she is in more danger down there than with you."

"Don't be so sure…"

"I've ordered you to not to hurt her. That order came from Dornkirk. If you want to cross him be my guest. I've done my job. It's you he'll go after." Folken shrugged and rolled over in his bed, preparing to go back to sleep.

"You're lying. Lord Dornkirk never ordered that." Dilandau raised his eyebrow.

Folken sighed. "Do you really want to find out?"

Dilandau yelled in frustration and punched the wall and kicked the broken down door out of his way before walking out the doorway.

Folken shook his head and went back to sleep.

Dilandau let lose a loud string of curses all the way back to his room. Gatti opened his door and squinted at Dilandau.

"Is everything all right, Dilandau-sama?" he asked.

"Just fan-fucking-tastic, Gatti. Go back to sleep." Dilandau ordered, not bothering to look at the slayer while passing him to go back to his room.

Gatti yawned. "Yes, sir."

Dilandau shoved open the door to his room and stalked back to his bed.

"Well? What is going on?" Iris demanded.

"Shut up!" Dilandau yelled as he stepped on her again and got back into bed.

"Tell me!" Iris demanded.

"If you make another sound I will cut your vocal chords out. Go to sleep." Dilandau ordered.

Iris began to protest, but then Dilandau picked up his dagger and placed it next to him in his bed, and she remembered whom she was talking to. Iris closed her mouth and rolled over on the cold, hard ground, determined to plot Dilandau's death until first light. Exhaustion won however, and she was eventually lulled to sleep by Dilandau's deep, even breaths. And she dreamt…

Iris stood in the middle of a wide, beautiful field. Her hair was loose, and it glided in the wind. She held a bouquet of wild flowers in her hand. A figure walked towards her and Iris squinted to see who it was.

Definitely male, she thought. He wore armor and a long sword at his belt. As the man walked closer, she caught the glint of the sun off of his silver hair, and she knew it was Dilandau. Yet she was not afraid. She was not angry either. She actually felt…better. A certain state of calm overtook her as he came closer.

What's wrong with me? She scolded herself. I should be taking off the other way. Yet here I am grinning like an idiot while he walks closer.

Iris handed him the flowers when he was within reach. She immediately swore at herself for that, but it seemed she had no control over what her body did. She could only watch in horrible confusion as she reached out and took Dilandau's hand. He took a flower from the bunch she had handed him and placed it behind her ear. He dropped the rest and took her other hand, gently pulling her closer.

Again, she watched helplessly as her arms went around his neck and his around her waist.

"Iris…" he whispered.

"Stop this," she fought. She found she could control her voice, if not her body. She was pulling him closer while telling him to back off.

Great. Iris mentally rolled her eyes. Talk about mixed messages…

"No, Iris. You don't want me to stop." Dilandau stated as he lifted her chin with his hand.

Iris's heart began to pound; half with fright because she was not in control of the situation, and half because Dilandau's mouth was so close to hers.

"Yes, this isn't right," Iris protested, while lifting her lips to his.

Dilandau kissed her. "It feels right," he breathed against her lips.

"Yes…" Iris gave in and kissed him again.

Dilandau tossed in his sleep. His features twisted into confusion as the dream unfurled in his mind…

His body disobeyed him, he wasn't in control, and that infuriated him. His mind fought as his body put its arms around Iris's waist and pulled her deeper into the kiss.

What the hell is going on? Dilandau thought. Why can't I move? Why can't I control my own body? Why am I kissing her? Why… Dilandau's mind began to cloud over as his tongue slipped into her mouth of it's own accord. Why does this feel so right…?