A/N: Gomen minna-san!! Gomen, gomen, gomen, gomen!! This chapter took the longest by far. School started and then my rodent died, no thanks to my bakana otouto and I had to wait forever for a new one! Then the job hunting *don't even ask about that* and killing myself over university. But enough about me. It's finally here! Enjoy!

Chapter Six

With a sigh, Storm looked up at the patches of sky from beneath the tree. Light patches of wispy white clouds passed by quickly, a breeze, tugging her hair into her face. Storm rose awkwardly with an angry mumble starting towards the doorway.

"Where are you going Storm?"

She gave an exasperated sigh, more at herself than at Van. "I'm going to find something to do. I can't just sit around and watch you spar with Allen all day." she didn't even bother to look at Van's partner.

"It would be best of you stayed off your leg as much as possible." Allen said. "It does need-"

"Yes I know it needs to heal." she said in an exasperated voice. "Sorry. But seriously, I have done absolutely nothing for almost a week while I enjoy your hospitality and it is starting to drive me ballistic!" she smacked her head at their clueless expressions. "I will go crazy unless you have me doing something else other than sitting around."

"And we need to practice. Once we're done here, we can do whatever you want." Van said as he turned back to Allen.

"If you think that I am going to sit here for another minute, you have another thing coming." Storm said in a somewhat huffy voice.

"You can't wait another hour?" Allen gave her a look. "Why are you so cranky?"

"I am not cranky." Storm said in a slightly petulant voice as she seated herself back down on the bench. 'I just want my sword with me. . .I need to feel some sort of hilt in my hand.' She watched as Van and Allen were doing their usual thing, the clang of swords echoing out over the small courtyard. 'Ah. . .' Managing to rise up, she made her way over to the other side where a spare sword leaned against the wall, still in its sheath. She drew a bit out slowly, watching as the sun winked off of the bright metal. She went back to her seat, the sword in her hands. She drew the entire length slowly, turning it from side to side, smiling as the sun winked off. Her eyes glanced up to see a lone leaf falling drifting down from the tree. Taking a firm hold of the hilt, she brought the sword down on it. The halves curled away before resuming their descent; the smile disappeared from her face as she focused and continued slicing at the leaf.

"Storm. . .what are you doing?"

She finished the stroke before she looked up to see Allen and Van looking at her curiously. "Not much. Are you two done now? I would like to take a walk."

"Alright. But you could give Allen his sword back." Van said with a smile.

"Oh. Sorry." she handed it back to him before she stood up surprisingly fast for someone on crutches. "I didn't mean to-"

"It's all right." Allen said with a wave of his hand, dismissing it.

"I have to admit though, I haven't seen anyone do that with a sword before." Van murmured thoughtfully.

Storm frowned, feeling the queer fluttering in her stomach once more. "Let's get going. My muscles are a bit stiff from so much sitting around." she said as she started off, her feet breaking through the small pile of shredded leaf on the ground.

"Where did you learn to use a sword like that?" Van asked as they made their way down the pathway. "It seemed like you used one all your life."

"I. . ." Storm paused as she tried to recall but found the same block that she had for the past few days. "I guess so. Van, I apologize for snapping at you. But I do need something to do instead of following you around as you do things."

"We could make you work."

"Don't tell Millerna." Storm said suddenly, jumping on the idea. "It would keep me occupied and not cranky. Give me something and I'll do it."

"Well, now that we solved that problem. . ." Van chuckled as they rounded the corner.

Storm smiled, glancing back at the courtyard. Allen still stood there, watching them as they left. She found herself meeting his blue eyed gaze before she finally started walking again. An involuntary shiver passed over her. 'I know he means no harm. . .but what is he searching for from me?'

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Rubbing her eyes, Tara started at the lone candle that guttered in the room. She hadn't slept much since Folken had left her in what she had fondly called her hellhole. Every so often, she could hear Dilandau's voice outside, demanding to be let in and refused time and time again.

'Psycho. . .' She twisted around in her now lumpy bed, leaning back against the wall. 'What makes him think that I would hesitate with a dagger in my hand?' She took out said object, twirling it on the tip of her finger, the sharp point barely pressing into her skin.

"Is she still in there?"

Tara looked up at the sound of a far different voice. 'Now what; someone else wants to share in my hospitality?' She glanced over at the candle warily; so many times she had wanted to put it out, sick of seeing the bright orange blue-based flame sway from side to side but she wasn't exactly fond of the dark.

"Get her out of there. Now."

She smiled faintly at the somewhat imperial tone in the voice. 'There's one person you don't want to mess with.' She rose slightly as the door slid open, melting in the shadows in the corner.

"Tara? Are you in here?"

"What's it to you? Come to mock and taunt me also?" she snarled in a somewhat vicious voice; that façade had kept away plenty of gawkers who came to see 'The Dragon Girl'.

"No. I came to release you from here. A room has been prepared for your comfort Mistress."

"Mistress? That's a rich one." she glowered out at the slip of a girl who now looked meek and submissive. "Get lost; I don't need your snarky remarks. Oh yes, I am a Mistress; the Mistress of dirty bed linens and psycho stalkers." a glance outside proved that her admirer was back, watching the events with a cold neutrality.

"Come now Mistress." the girl said with a smile. "I am to be your servant and you are to take your place. Surely you cannot-"

"So what's this I see?" Dilandau slid into the room easily as the girl stepped aside uneasily. "You found a way out of here?"

"That's none of your business Dilandau." she retorted venomously. "I never asked to see your scrawny frame around here."

He didn't say anything, watching the candle with an abstract gaze before his eyes snapped back to her. "Aren't we a good one to talk. Just how did you get out of here anyways?"

Tara curled her hand into a fist at the sneering tone in his voice. She stalked up to him, looking him straight in the eye. "And I would tell the likes of you? I think not?"

"So how did you then? Perhaps you did Folken . . .favour?"

Tara flet her blod boil at the insinuation he left dangling in front of her like bait. She dug her nails deep into her flesh as she struggled to not let something fly at him. He seemed to enjoy tormenting her far too much.

"Oh, so that's it, is it?" he gave her a scornful look. "You had the look of one."

She bit down hard on her lip, the coppery tang of blood seeping onto her tongue. It surely wouldn't go over well if she killed someone after being a prisoner for a week. She wasn't even sure if she had that capacity in her but the way Dilandau was going, he would be a dead man.

"What? Can't say anything to defend yourself?" he patted her face gently with a condescending manner. "Or maybe you're a silent type. I like those."

"You disgusting pig!" she spat as she brought her hand up like a leap of fire connecting with his face. "How dare you accuse me of such when you yourself are highly questionable! You come in here and harass me to no fucking end just so you can get your perverse pleasure out of it?! I think you're disgusting and should be-"

"Let's go Mistress." the girl took her hand and led her out quickly. "Lord Dilandau will be very angry with you."

"Let him be, the chauvinistic bastard." Tara muttered to herself as she allowed herself to be taken away; perhaps it wasn't in her capacity.

"But now Lord Dilandau will be thoroughly angered at you Mistress. You scarred his face in there; I do recognize those kinds of wounds. And he is a vain man. . ."

"Wounds? What wounds?" Tara asked with the first bit or true puzzlement.

The girl didn't say anything, holding up one of Tara's hands. Right beneath the nail and on top of it was blood, gleaming in the hallway light. Tara didn't say anything for a few minutes.

"Then maybe he will learn not to play with fire."

The girl simply shook her head as she hurried down the hallway, finally leading Tara to a doorway in what was obviously the officers' quarters. She walked in as the door opened, finding herself rather surprised and the simple elegant comforts of the room. She turned back to the girl with a questioning look on her face.

"Yes, this is your room for as long as you are with us." she said, catching the expression of disbelief in Tara's eyes. "I believe it would be best of you didn't leave your room for a bit. Not until other things have been straightened out. I'll come back with your dinner."

"Who did all this for me?" she asked in a soft voice. "Why would they bother?" she paused as a thought struck her. "Did Folken do this?"

The girl shook her head with a smile. "Not Lord Folken, but I would expect no less of her. She is your mother after all."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Bits and pieces of bolts and nuts lay strewn around with a few pegs in the mix. Storm turned the piece over in her hands, trying to see where the problem was. A frown came to her lips as she heard a hammer come crashing down onto the ground. She looked up to see a somewhat sheep faced mechanic, pick it up and scurry back to his job. 'Heh. . .makes me glad I'm sitting at this table.' She sighed as she turned back to her task, giving the piece a small shake.

"Oh. . .so there's a loose piece in there." she said with a hint of smugness in her voice. "I'll show you."

She carefully took apart the part and reattached the loose spring before quickly reassembling it. Getting herself up, she walked over to where Van was busy sharpening his sword.

"All done."

He looked up at her. "Already? What was wrong with it?"

"Spring was loose." she shrugged. "So where exactly does this go in this huge thing anyways?" she gestured to the large white machine behind him.

"It doesn't go in this guymelef." Van said as he rose. "It goes in Allen's. Glad to be keeping busy?"

"Yes, very much." she said. "You go back to sharpening the sword. You have a lot of it to cover."

Van gave something of a grimace before he nodded. "Perhaps, maybe, when this is all over. . ." he trailed off, sounding unsure of himself.

"Yeah?"

"Never mind." he said with a somewhat troubled look on his face. "It was nothing." he bent back over his task, the grinding sound of the whetstone grating against her ears.

Shrugging it off, Storm made her way through the general noise and clatter finally finding Allen in front of a massive blackish blue. . . 'Guymelef. . .that's what Van called it.' She walked up behind them, waiting patiently for Allen and his friend to finish their conversation.

"We have to leave soon Commander. Whatever it is you're planning to do, I suggest you do it soon. Once the repairs are done, we're out of here."

"I know Gadeth. But I wasn't anticipating that the repairs would take this long." Allen sighed as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Call me when the repairs are done."

"Yes Commander."

Storm stepped back as Allen turned around suddenly surprise flashing across his face. "Sorry. I came to give this back."

"So that where this part disappeared to." Gadeth said with a smile as he plucked it from her hand. "Thanks."

Storm gave a small half smile before she turned to walk away when Allen's voice stopped her.

"May I talk to you for a minute?"

She looked back at him, a fleeting sensation of uncertainty running through her before she nodded and started walking. They made their way out of the general noise of the repair hangar and down to the dock paths. She didn't say anything, watching the vibrant colour and life swirl past her; she was very glad to be doing something else with her time and not simply sitting around the castle. A frown came to her face as she saw a crowd of people being herded onto a ship, the men with whips not hesitating to use them. The one who was at the top of the gangplank seemed strangely familiar. She walked closer, wanting to see his face.

"You shouldn't be seeing this." Allen said as he walked closer to her.

Storm didn't reply as she started up at the man. He finally looked down at the scene, jumping when his eyes rested on her. Even from her far distance, she could see his face pale visibly before he vanished away. With a disgusted snort, she continued one, a somewhat sour mood taking over. When they finally reached a quiet spot down the beach, Storm sat down on the fine sand, letting the water lap at her bare foot.

"What was that about?" Allen asked as he sat beside her.

She simply shrugged, not willing to answer his question. Even she wasn't sure but that man had seemed do familiar. Allen gave something of a weary sigh before he spoke once more.

"Why do you hate me?"

"I don't hate you." she replied. "I'm wary of you, yes. But hate you no. Besides, hate is a very strong word. I don't use that lightly."

"You didn't leave me much else to think." Allen remained silent for a few minutes. "I apologize for opening the curtains."

She waved it away. "I drank too much. You thought I was fine. You don't have to apologize for anything. If anything I should be apologizing to myself; my liver isn't going to thank me for that."

"Hm." Allen said in an ambiguous response. "Where did you learn to use a sword like that?"

"I told you I don't know." she shrugged. "Millerna said I might have partial amnesia, remember?"

"I remember. You've used it all your life." he stated a fact.

"I guess so. I don't recall making salads out of a leaf before but it indicates something I believe."

"I think so too. And that's why I want to ask you something."

"What?" she finally looked over at him.

"We could use another sword like yours."

"We?" she was puzzled now. "What do you mean by 'we'?"

"The crew of the Crusade."

"Allen, are you saying that you want-"

"Yes. I want you to join my crew."

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