The Way Things Were

Standard disclaimer applies

©Seeress 2003

Warning: A bit of implied yaoi (slash) happens in this chapter. If this bothers you in any way, don't read it. The part is after the third set of asterisks (*). You have been forewarned.

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The Way Things Were

Chapter 9

She saw her whole life flash before her eyes.

Faces and images flowed in front of her, pushing and shoving each other aside, one after another with each frame constantly blinking and disappearing to be replaced by another. Long forgotten memories resurfaced in her mind, and some images that she did not recognize at all came unbidden: some grotesquely beautiful in their own way, and most others eerily frightening.

Out of pure instinct, she ducked and tried to spin away. The knife barely missed her by millimetres, but the jagged edge of the blade managed to graze the bare skin of her shoulder. Crying out softly at the pain that seared through her skin, she rolled under the attacker and quickly got to her feet. While the figure was trying to get the knife dislodged from the door (for the first time she was happy that the doors were thick and made out of wood), she hitched up her skirt and reached down her leg to the place where her dagger should be. Her hand came into contact with nothing but a stocking-covered leg.

Panic shot through her very being.

For a brief moment, she thought she had dropped it somewhere, lost it while she was not paying attention. She struggled to recall what she had done through the day, but found that her mind stayed defiantly blank. The assassin had almost gotten the knife free, when the corner of her eye was caught by something that glowed strangely bright in the dimness of the room. Turning quickly to look over to her bedside table, she spotted the long white feather, radiating an otherworldly light that lit up the small wooden surface. But, faint as it was, it was enough to let her see that there was another object, a long black shadow, that sat beside the glowing plume on the table as well. Her heart nearly leapt for joy.

Her dagger! There it sat, the intricate designs carved on its sheath nearly invisible in the twilight. The mere sight of it eased her mind, although it was presumptuous to do so. A grunt from behind her was all the warning she got that her attacker had gotten his weapon back. Sparing a brief glance over her shoulder, it did indeed confirm that the man was armed and ready to finish the job.

Not if I can help it, she thought angrily, pure fury making her bold. She pretended to back away, a look of fake horror on her face, moving her body to shield the table to block it from view. She heard a sneer coming from the man's lips, the hood not concealing the sinister curling of his lips into a wicked smile.

"Come here, sweetheart," his voice was hoarse, a sound like stone grinding stone. "I won't hurt you. Maybe I'll even let you have some fun, before you die." He let out a harsh, barking laugh that echoed off the wall.

Her eyes turned to ice. Dropping all pretence as she felt her hand close around the sheath of her dagger, she brought it in front of her and drew the dagger with her other hand. The assassin jumped away as if burned.

At least he's got he sense to back away, she thought wryly to herself, letting a cold smile touch her lips. It must have made her look absolutely evil, for it made the man flinch, even after he had backed away. Apparently his employer didn't know or never told him that she was well versed with a knife. It was that moment of his indecision that she decided to strike.

The fight didn't last long. The man was not truly skilled, but she had difficulty moving because of the way her dress clung to her legs. The hanging fabric trailed behind her like a tail, and it greatly impeded her movements. Pretending to lunge at her attacker with her dagger again, the man was fooled into lifting his arm to protect an attack that never came, and instead she placed her elbow under his chin and put as much force into the blow as she could. She got a sickeningly satisfying feeling from the crunch she heard his teeth make. While he was distracted, she bent down and hacked off the length of her dress from the knee down and kicked off her high heel shoes, aiming them so that they hit the man in the head. It seemed to irritate him, because he came after her with much more force than before. But with nothing to prevent her movement and her knife in her hand, it only took another few strokes to disarm the assassin and have the pointed end of her dagger at his throat.

Panting slightly, she walked closer so that the tip of the blade touched the man's skin, and pulled the hood off his head. She didn't recognize the man beneath, not that she expected to. He had brownish-red hair—mostly red streaked brown—and his eyes, a hazy teal, seemed somehow familiar. Shaking that aside, she got straight down to business.

"Who sent you?" she asked coldly, sounding as if his answer didn't matter but the fact that he gave an answer did. There was a moment of tense silence, then shaky laughter filled the room.

"Why should I tell you?" the man replied, his voice and eyes betraying him. "You're not going to kill me."

She pressed more firmly on the blade, and the tip of it dug into the flesh of the man's neck so that it drew blood. He tried to back away, but was trapped firmly between her and the wall.

"Try me," she said derisively, moving ever closer.

Suddenly a strong gust of wind blew in through the open window, and it knocked the slender feather off the table. It whipped at her torn dress and made her squint her eyes, but she lost all concentration as the feather fluttered in her face and glided gently to stroke her cheek. She gasped as she felt its feather-soft touch: the caress was warm. And in that split second where she had let her guard slip, she had been roughly knocked aside and her captor had escaped through the window. Cursing herself for her negligence, she strapped her dagger firmly above her knee and placed the feather back on the table.

"What is with you?" she spoke more to herself than to the feather as she settled it down neatly on the table. "First you help me, then you distract me and let him get away?" The room was jarringly silent now, dark and looming. Only the wind, haunted by a phantom, made a sound to answer her question. The noise it made sent her heart racing.

She fled.

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A commotion arose as the doors to the dance hall were thrown open, and a messenger, bloody and worn, stumbled through, falling onto the floor. His clothes were muddy and torn, and visible cuts that had not yet healed continued to bleed. His eyes were wild and frantic, searching but never seeing anything in front of him. He mumbled incoherently to the guard at the door, who was desperately trying to drag him out. Whispers circulated around guests as they stared at the unfolding scene.

"No! Must… the king…"

Van, who had been murmuring something quietly to Hitomi moments before, broke off his conversation and quickly stepped forward. Bending down to talk to the fallen guard, he regarded him gravely but his voice was firm.

"What is your message? What's happened?"

The soldier coughed weakly and struggled to lift himself off the ground. Van put a hand under his head to help support him.

"Maj—majesty…"

"Forget that," Van said harshly. "Save your strength. Tell me, soldier, what's happened?"

"Z—Zaibach…" he whispered feebly, fighting to breathe. Behind him, Van heard Hitomi gasp softly. "Hierarch… killed…at—attack… Western bor—der…"

A collective intake of breath shot through the crowd.

"Are you saying that the Hierarch of Zaibach has been killed and they've declared war?" Van demanded, his voice taking a steely edge. The soldier nodded almost imperceptibly. It confirmed his worst fears. "Guard!" he barked at the young man standing transfixed. "Relay messages to all the troops to prepare for battle. Gather my advisors and generals and tell them—"

"No…" the messenger whispered softly.

"What?" Van snapped, more harshly than he'd intended.

"The attack… Asturia…"

He turned around to see Allen, grim-faced and pale, and Millerna, wide-eyed and trembling. For a brief instant, magenta eyes of one King met cerulean eyes of another. And in that moment, they truly understood each other for the first time.

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"Jaiden has reported back, sire," he reported stoically, knowing that it would mean nothing but trouble.

"And he was unsuccessful, am I correct?" His superior's voice sounded clipped, harsh.

"Yes, sir. He showed potential, but has proved to be a disappointment."

"The same could almost be said about you, Daleth," his Master intoned, turning to face him as his eyes flashed fury. "Why haven't you carried out my plan, Daleth?" he said in a tone of sadness and pleading, wringing his hands and walking closer to his subordinate. "You know how important this is to me." This bit was said with conviction and an underlying threat.

"Yes, sire," he replied, now standing face to face with his Master with their faces only inches away from each other. The redhead still stared unseeingly in front of him as he felt his superior's eyes surveying him the whole time.

The other man leaned forward, whispering in Daleth's ear. "You know what I want, don't you?" he asked softly, sensually, the warmth of his breath tickling the side of Daleth's neck.

Daleth took a shuddering breath before replying. "Yes, sire," he replied, all the muscles in his body tense and the tension all building up in one place…

"Good," he whispered again, before pulling away. "I expect to see results next time. Dismissed."

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It proved to be more difficult than she thought to be able to find anybody within the palace. The hallways were deserted and when she reached the dance hall, she found it to be completely empty but with everything in its place. The doctor's room, which she had visited earlier to get her cut tended to, was also abandoned. Things were upturned as if someone wanted to leave in hurry, but she was grateful for the mess; at least it established that not everybody just disappeared without a trace.

After getting some brownish liquid, an antiseptic of some sort, on her cut and putting a bandage securely over it, she set off to find any living soul she could. Wandering around aimlessly for a while and finding everything desolate, she decided to try her luck outside. She reasoned with herself that there had to be someone there; the square was so crowded before that it would've been a near miracle to get from one side to the other. Just as she was about to open the doors, they swung inward of their own accord and sent her stumbling back to keep from being hit.

"Princess Varie, are you all right?" She heard someone ask, the masculine voice filled with shock and concern. Looking up, she saw that she was face to face with Lord Eronai, her Father's personal advisor, and saw a troop of guards behind him.

"Yes, I'm fine," she answered, wondering why he was looking at her so strangely. Only then did she remember that she must look a mess, with her shorn dress revealing far too much of her legs than was appropriate and the bandage on her shoulder giving off the impression of a severe wound. "It's a long story," she said simply. "Where is everyone?"

Eronai looked as though he were about to protest at her inadequate answer, but instead answered her question.

"A messenger arrived, shortly after you left, and informed us that the Hierarch of Zaibach has been killed and they've declared war. Apparently they've already begun to attack Asturia."

"What?! How did this happen?"

"We don't yet know," he said grimly, never taking his hazel eyes off her. "The Royal Family of Asturia has already left on a leviship not too long ago. His Majesty is rallying the troops to support Asturia. Everyone has been sent home."

She was about to ask another question, but he held up a hand to stop her.

"Please, Varie," he implored her, only one of the few times he hadn't used her title when in the company of others, "I can't explain everything right now. There's an emergency counsel meeting that I have to get to. But first, tell me briefly what happened."

"I was attacked, but it's nothing serious."

"That's where you and I differ in opinion, Varie. The fact that you were attacked on the same night as this declaration of war seems to be too much of a coincidence. I want you to be escorted back to your room and to stay there, until someone comes for you."

"No! I'm going to attend that counsel meeting with you."

"Varie, for the sake of your safety…"

"I'll be far safer in a room full of generals," she countered defiantly. Eronai sighed wearily.

"Fine. If you wish to attend, so be it. I'll have guards escort you to your room and then to the briefing room."

"There's no need for me to go to my room. We could go straight to the briefing room together."

Eronai made a delicate sort of sound, smiling slightly. "I believe you'll want a change of clothing before you go anywhere more public," he said as inoffensively as he could.

Varie flushed. "Right," she said, feeling her cheeks burn. "See you there, then."

Lord Eronai walked away from her, leaving her behind with two guards. She stared after him for a bit, and then headed to her room as well. No one noticed the pair of ice grey eyes watching the whole scene. Nor did they notice the thin pillar of light in the distance as the large double doors were closing.

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Author's Notes: Anyone ever see Trigun? Darn good show for those of you who haven't. I highly recommend it. Anyways, what I'm trying to do with Daleth and his 'Master' (who I will not reveal just yet), is create a similar relationship like that of Knives/Legato. The only difference is that Daleth is a bit more independent and has ambitions of his own.

Anyways, this is my transition chapter. After this it should be lots of fight scenes and things like that. Sorry this took so long; what with loss of inspiration and HP #5 being thicker than a dictionary, writing didn't really assert itself until now. BUT… you'll be happy to know that I finally conjured up a PLOT for this story! YAY!!! I've always had the beginning and end in mind, but never the middle. I think I've conquered that hurdle now, so be ready for some ass kicking!

Thank yous go out to Raye-Rei, DestinyBabee, and Meghanna Starsong, for reviewing the last chapter and for always giving me feedback throughout this entire ordeal. Thanks for sticking with me this far; hope you see it all the way through.

Check out 'Petals' and watch for the next chapter soon.

~Seeress