Chapter 11
A/N: Thank you so much, YingFa8 for reviewing constantly. It makes me very happy to know that new people are actually still reading this. I'll try to update frequently, but I'm almost up to date with the newest never-been-posted chapter, so I'm quite excited^^. Anyways, enjoy~!
Dedicated to: Ah Young Song, Dragonsbane, Esca Angel7, Ryoki, Dilandau, shadypony, Raviel, ~littledragon~, Angel, chibi-ken14, Radicalgrl, dragoneyes, shiro tenshi, Sess, cpt Kenny, and silvia
Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne or any of its characters.
Dilandau was ranting in the hallway, "I WILL NOT WELCOME HIM! I WILL KILL HIM! I WILL DISPOSE OF THAT ARROGANT BASTARD AND THAT GIRL!"
He stomped back and forth on the second floor.
Straightening the tuffs of her dress, Celena replied calmly and walked gracefully down the large, winding staircase, "You know you can't do that. Yet. Now, come down the stairs and stand here, they'll be arriving any minute."
"I WILL NOT! I HATE HIM I HATE HIM I HATE HIM I HATE HIM! DAMN IT!" With that said he picked up a vase of roses and threw it at a nearby painting, causing the flowers to fly everywhere and the great silver-framed canvas to fall and crack, completely ruined. Paying no heed at all, Dilandau muttered some more and left to find his slayers.
Having watched the whole incident from the open door of their room, there was an instinct for her to run after him, but she thought better of it. At that moment, there was a great knock announcing the arrival of their guests and Deré saw Lord Folken and Celena open the heavy, mahogany doors; Dilandau-sama was absent.
She stayed on the second floor, hiding in the shadows as Chey Lastone and Joselin walked into the entrance hall of Muertia. The first thing that caught her eye was the girl named Joselin. Standing tall and proud, with long, sage colored hair running down her back and stopping neatly at her waist, she looked like the princess of serpents. The girl's eyes were luminously golden, catching the light as if she could see everything. Her appearance was breath-taking.
A long, burgundy colored dress with lazy, crisscrossing folds fit her like a second skin. It was so tight that every curve on her body was clearly outlined; spare her legs as on both sides there were two long slits that reached up to her hips. Even more indecent was the semi-transparent fabric, leaving her night colored bra and panties openly visible.
Deré was astonished by her inappropriate dress, as beautiful as she was. Even more intriguing was the expression on her face. The tiny smile on perfect lips was highly seductive, accompanying the shrewd, golden of her eyes gazing from one place to the next slowly and mysteriously as if she owned the world.
The shining, silver earring at the top of his right ear was the next thing to capture her vision. Chey slid an arm around Joselin's slim waist as they began walking towards the living room. His dark, black hair fell smoothly around his head from a centre line, one side slightly longer than the other, covering his left eye. Surprisingly, instead of a dark color, he was dressed in a silvery white amour, a prince in shining white amour. It was weird; wrong.
The pureness of white didn't fit the scene; it just wasn't right. She felt as if he was in the wrong clothes, that the white amour should be reserved for a more suitable prince. But something else attracted her attention, Chey happened to look incredibly similar to her master. Apart from their skin color and hair, there really wasn't much of a difference between the two. They were the same age, same height, same build, and even trained by the same swordsman. Their faces both held a touch of indefinable passion and secrecy, with the same kind of expressions; however, what was most compelling was the contrasting color of their eyes. Where Dilandau's was bloody-red, Chey's was peacefully green. She didn't understand why, but instantly, there were intense feelings of sharp caution and revulsion towards the couple. Descending slowly, Deré followed them into the living room.
***
"Ah, here is Lady Rei, Dilandau-sama's new servant."
Instinctively, she curtsied and lowered her gaze. Lady Rei? I guess my name is to be kept a secret . . . "Please to meet you Lord Chey, Lady Joselin."
There was a slight quirk of her brow as Joselin acknowledged the girl, but Chey seemed puzzled, and frowned, "Where is the rumored woman who has managed to tame our infamous Lord? What was her name? Deré, was it not?"
Suddenly, her master marched into the room, right pass Chey and towards the wine cabinet, "Tsk tsk Chey, I always thought that you had better judgment than to believe silly rumors. Hmm, I guess I was wrong."
A light shrug and a smirk could be seen as he poured himself a glass of red wine. Her immediate dislike towards the heir and his mistress only increased when Joselin set her golden eyes firmly onto Dilandau, starring straight into his eyes. Deré watched intently as for a second, as his gaze trailed momentarily over the girl's half-exposed breasts.
That second; it was almost unnoticeable but she saw it. Deré let out a shaky breath, it can't be helped, the girl was just too entrancing. But she found it unforgivably hard to breathe when Joselin bounced up from her seat and embraced her master, kissing him on the cheek and causing the red liquid to spill onto the carpet. But thankfully, he brushed her off harshly, shoving her away with a look of annoyance and disgust.
Was I jealous? Feeling so awful, affected so much by such a little act? . . . really, is it necessary? Her thoughts were briefly interrupted as an unexpected, high-pitched whine startled her, "Chey! Dilandau doesn't want to give me a hug!"
Chey gently pet her head as he said, "Dilandau, do you realize what you just gave up, and so ungentlemanly too. Thousands would risk their lives for the luxury of just gazing upon her. Isn't that right darling?"
Deré cringed at what her master might do from that snide remark, but luckily, he only snorted and then chuckled, "Do you really believe that? Time to hit the bar, old pal."
His last word dripping with sarcasm, Dilandau turned his back and began to leave. But Chey also rose from his seat, "You overstep your boundaries, General."
Instantaneously, the two men were facing each other. Dilandau had his sword drawn and against Chey's neck; with obvious vigorous restrain, he answered, "I do as I please, General." Then, returning the weapon to its scabbard, he exited the scene.
***
She found him sitting on a chair in front of the mirror, he looked depressed and irritated. The stars were shinning brightly through the sunroof, somewhat lighting the dark room. "Dilandau-sama . . ."
In an unhurried speed, Deré found her way to the chair and placed herself on the floor next to him. He seemed deep in thought, his breathing heavy and unsteady. "It's not . . . it's not what you think, what they think . . ."
He shook his head, running his hand repeatedly through his silver hair, "I don't want . . . this. Anything. It's not what they think . . . I didn't want it like this . . . he's still . . . he . . ."
Letting out a deep sigh, he covered his face with his hands, "F***. Why can't I . . . why can't I be more . . . myself . . . where is it?! Damn him. So tiring . . . every time, every time it's the same . . . every time . . . except . . . you . . ."
Not knowing what to do or what he was trying to say, Deré reached for his hand, which was balled into a tight fist. She gently opened it, massaging his palm and entwining his fingers with her own. But without warning, he pulled away and struck the mirror with such force that it shattered into a million pieces in front of them. Immediately, with shaking hands, she covered her face from the glass, heart beating at its maximum rate.
***
"What do you think you're doing in my room and on my bed?"
He spoke words devoid of emotion, his features and voice, as cold as stone. There was a tiny trace of a crease across his forehead, but it quickly vanished into nothing. One would not have suspected that Dilandau Albatou was, at this moment, engaged in a mental war. His mind was in chaos. Just being able to appear clam and collected was drawing most of his energy. He did not want her to have the satisfaction of seeing him break, seeing him weaken. Her replies would hold the power to crumple him and he knew it.
A pool of silky green flowed from the feathery pillow on the bed to the carpeted floor below. Golden eyes watched him, upside-down. The sneaky smile on her lips tempted him, proposing dangerous games.
Lying on her back with her legs straight up against the wall, Lady Joselin put on an ingenuous face, "Why, I'm waiting for you, my dear,"
She paused to wait for his reaction, deliberately running one leg slowly and seductively over the other; back and forth over her soft, tanned skin. Receiving no response from him, she scowled, but smiled again, "What's wrong? Are you afraid? Or is it just that the little slut is enough for you and you have forgotten what ecstasy is really like? Don't you remember, remember us? I can show you again, we could be like that again if—"
"SHUT UP," he remembered alright; he remembered all too well her touch, her kisses, and her love. Those magical fingers dancing over his skin, it brought a shiver down his spine. He was loosing it, loosing the control. His eyes burned, burned and raged, with embers spurting fire.
He remembered the love and elation, but he also had not forgotten the pain and heartache that she had caused him to endure. Oh no, I have not forgotten. And I will never forget, because it burns deeply and painfully.
His hands began to shake; they would not obey his mind any longer. Automatically, his fingers reached for the hilt of the sword. Upon contact, everything was calm once more. He lowered his head and drew slowly the sword. Admiring the silver blade, he spoke coolly, "Get out."
Then all of a sudden, without warning, the steel was swiftly cast into the wall, inches from her head. A few strands of sage fell to the bed and a crack sketched itself on the wall, but that was all. Subsequently, she found herself trapped between him, his arms on both sides of her head. The red pools of this eyes swirling with anger, were locked on to hers, "Get out. Go back to that treacherous master of yours, you whore."
Consequently, he recollected himself and watched her with a piercing gaze. Looking away, she put a hand to her neck and brushed the hair out of her face. She seemed to glare at something for a while before haughtily leaving.
As the door clicked shut, Dilandau fell onto the bed; his face buried in the pillow that her head had moments ago occupied, "Joselin . . ."
An ocean of flashbacks played itself across his mind and he clenched his fists. The anger resurfaced once more and he began to beat endlessly at the bed, growling her name each time. Finally, he was breathing heavily with exhaustion. Rolling onto his back, Dilandau looked at the sky, watching the silent flashes of lightning as the rain splattered against the sunroof noisily. It was like pouring water. Unexpectedly, he realized something, something that he wanted right now.
***
He was standing in front of the mirror, his hand touching the cool glass. What am I? Who am I? Who was I? Who was I supposed to become? What had been my fate? What is my fate? It torments me. Torments me like the moth by the candlelight. I can't think. I don't recognize myself . . . what have I become? My life is a waste. I live for nothing . . .
The door opened and someone walked in. In a voice that resembled a dove, the girl spoke, "Dilandau-sama, you called for me?"
He stared at her, mystified and bemused. She stirred a completely different feeling. It was so powerful, so much more powerful than the anger and loathing he felt right now. There was relief and promising release; sweetness that washes away bitterness. The frail girl with silver hair and true blue eyes was like his light, his light through the foggy darkness. Keeping his eyes on her, he whispered, "Come to me."
Obediently, Deré followed her master's orders. She sensed something strange in the air, something bad and good. A tint of worry marred her peaceful aroma as she walked to him. The shattered mirror had been replaced as she learned that they were abused habitually. She wondered why and what it was that allowed the mirror to so overwhelmingly captured his attention.
He turned to face her, placing his hands at her waist, "Where have you been? It took you a while to come."
"Forgive me Dilandau-sama, but Lady Joselin sent me to run an errand." Frowning, he tightened his grip and searched through her face. He looked for anything that showed sighs of harm or injury, but found none.
"And what was it that she asked you to do?"
Alarmed and not understanding his concern, she answered carefully, "I was asked to fetch a cup of tea. . ." she paused, "for Lord Chey."
She saw his mouth twitch and for a second, it seemed as if he were about to hit her, but instead, he wrapped a protective arm around her, his embrace so tight she found it hard to breathe. Resting his chin on her head, he closed his eyes. So many thoughts were streaming through his head; the capacity of his brain felt like it was overloading.
His masculine scent was driving her crazy, making her dizzy. She let her head lean against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. It was too fast, and the brief pauses too long; unnatural. It was almost like they were swaying. He seemed overly calm and relaxed.
They stayed in that position for a very long time, until at last, he let her go and in a voice lower than a whisper, he spoke, "Never go near him again."
Then he placed a hand beneath her knees lifted her off the ground. With the other hand supporting her back, he carried her to the pillows and cushions of their bed.
***
Joselin stomped into her room and slammed the door. She was muttering under her breath and glaring at the dark-haired man sitting in a leather chair, sipping on a cup of tea. The curtains of the window behind him were drawn, engulfing the room in a hushed darkness.
"That was fast, I take that it didn't go as planned?"
Calming herself down, she walked elegantly towards the man and sat on his lap, giving him a light kiss before speaking, "I don't understand, it should have worked perfectly. I'm not sure, but I feel as if he's different somehow."
He set the cup on the table and combed his fingers through her hair, noticing that some strands were shorter than the others, "What do you mean?"
The girl wondered for a while, and coming to no conclusion, replied, "I don't know. But I'm under the impression that he has become stronger in some way. He seems more confident and accepting towards his thoughts, they're more firm and stable. He's no longer psychotic."
She remembered the look in his eyes, it was definitely wild and crazy, but his actions were controlled. He should have provoked fear in her, fear for her life. But he hadn't. His actions had only caused her embarrassment that damaged her pride. In anger, Joselin raked the soft, leather of the chair with her nails, creating streaks of white upon black. She didn't understand; this was not his style of treatment, at least not what she had been used to.
"It's the girl", the conviction in his voice was certain.
"But Chey, how can you know for sure. This is not even the rumored girl."
Under his dark bangs, Chey smiled and stroked her cheek, "My darling, our enemies can deceive us. You must learn to understand their true intentions. This girl, I have spoken to her. There is something about her that impels me to believe that she is his support. Dilandau is strong, but his mind is weak."
***
The girl looked up at the dark cloudy sky. Through the sunroof she could see no stars tonight. She thought about what had happened, of today. She touched the spot where he had left his mark, in a secret place deep inside of her. She wondered, will things still be the same? Of course they would.
She was being silly again. How could he? Why would he, if ever . . .? There was no reason. She should not think of such things. She was just his tool, his instrument; nothing more, and could never be something more. He is her master and always will be. Even though sometimes, she wished, she hoped, she fantasized, that it would be different, that they could be something else. Something closer and more . . . she knew that it was hopeless. The girl sighed. She shrunk back further against the wall of the large empty room, the room that they shared, where it had all happened, since the beginning.
I wish I can believe it, his love for me. Today, I almost had to will myself not to believe it. Sometimes, his gestures and his movements hold a hidden meaning for me. But I tell myself, that I have been misled, that they are not what they seem.
Even though there is nothing more in the world that I want at this moment, than for him to love me and see me as someone more than a mere servant, I cannot ask for that. When he sees me, he seems to stare past me. But my manipulative mind alters it and gives me false hope. He comes to me and calls me to him. He becomes a part of me and I a part of him, but we are not the same and he is not my storybook prince. I would give everything to him, everything for him. I would sacrifice my life for him if necessary. That, I realize, is the degree to which I love him.
It has taken me forever to realize and these days grow more painful than the past. There is nothing to hide behind as the truth is clear. I can no longer pretend to be in doubt, because there is no doubt. I don't now when or how the need to help him twisted itself into what I feel now, but there is nothing that I can do. I hate myself for the way I am; I am weak and helpless. I hate myself for falling in love with him, for being an object instead of a human being.
They leave at sunrise tomorrow morning, for the internal continents. A hundred soldiers under the command of General Chey arrived tonight. They will use the Vione and other floating fortresses that have been brought. I have wished the dragonslayers good luck and given Celena my love. I cannot help but notice that they all seem excited, regardless of the danger that awaits them. I have been instructed to stay at Muertia, the Vione being in battle. Dear Gaea protect him, bring him back safely. I love him and cannot live without him.
O4o86*~