Moo! And thus, Chapter 5 begins. I must here and now thank the Fans for their gracious reviews. I feel all warm and fuzzy after reading them. Or at least acknowledged and appreciated. There are so many reviewers out there, I have to give them each a penguin. : )
(^v^), (^v^), (^v^), (^v^), (^v^), (^v^), (^v^), (^v^), (^v^), (^v^), (^v^), (^v^), (^v^), (^v^), (^v^)
Ok . . .that's a lot of penguins. Yup.
. . . . . . . . . . .dawdle . . . . . . . . twiddling of thumbs . . . . . . . . . . .
ON WITH THE FIC!
* * * * * * *
Dilandau climbed into the cockpit of the alseides unit and instantly felt his whole body relax. He was home. He stood, and it stood, they were one, he and the guymelef. He quietly left the hangar of the Vione, his men following close behind as the perfectly trained whole he had taught them to be. A serene calm washed over him, while at the same time adrenaline already began to flow in anticipation of the slaughter. He was after one thing, and the one thing only. The elusive white dragon. He knew Folken was blabbering at him, but didn't quite bother to listen. Nothing could touch him in this machine, he was invincible. Nothing else was important, if he could get the stupid dragon out of the way.
"Invisibility cloaks, boys," he said quietly to the Slayers through the intercom. Everyone around him disappeared, as they ought to have.
He prowled towards the mini outpost he had gotten supplies from earlier. It had been so old fashioned in compared to Zaibach, how could they live without running water?! Ah, well, time to burn the place to dusty ashes. Out with the old, in with the new.
On his signal, they began to attack full force, and no one could see them in order to retaliate, so they all began to flee like swine. That's it, run away you cowards. He saw somebody on the ground running and squished him underfoot. His giddy laughter rang through the air as he romped in his deadly playground. Anything that tried to defy him died. Soon, everything was aflame, it wasn't hard, they had kept too much mead and wine about. Burn, let the fire take you! It was so exhilarating to watch the flames dance and sweep everything away it. Everything for the flame! Maybe it would smoke the dumb dragon out, as well. It was so fun, the flames and he were having a good laugh over these few exalting moments.
The Slayers simply followed their captain's example and did their best not too feel guilty while they destroyed the beautiful rustic architecture of the outpost. That style was so hard to recreate these days. Chesta, Gatti and Miguel did their job wordlessly, and without spirit. Their minds lay too heavily on the resent past events. The fact that Dilandau was enjoying himself with all this senseless destruction didn't help their mood, either. He would never realize the pain he caused.
"Do you think you can smoke the dragon out, Dilandau?" taunted Folken's voice. "It is said that birds often build their nests behind waterfalls to protect them from predators."
Oh, yeah, the dragon, that was his priority. "What?! Behind the castle?"
So he headed that way to pursue the dragon. It's hunting time now. Somebody wouldn't shut up, so he smacked him. Oh, it had been one of his Slayers, sorry about that. There! A little levi-ship flew out the water, pathetic. It would have been easy to destroy, if not for the fact that he needed his prey alive. Damn. The fire in him took control and led the elite force down the ravine to the fleeing levi-ship. Ah, battle-worthy opponents, Allen Shezar in his out-dated guymelef and the rest of his little pirate crew. This entertained Dilandau for a while, but it led to boredom. Finally! The dragon revealed itself as it fled in the opposite direction. Excellent, a chase, that always made things fun. He had almost forgotten how fun fighting was. He'd been locked up in that damned ship too long. Good-by dragon, he thought and smirked the pilot's pathetic attempts to evade his attacks. A simple blast from his crima claw and the dragon was down, much too easy, it was almost a let down.
Then it dawned on him why the dragon had fled, to save those pathetic pirates! Damn, now he was feeling really cheated. Lousy dragon, why did he have to go and spoil his fun?! One of his first times out of the Vione in weeks, and he wasn't able to enjoy it to the fullest because this pilot's heroics. Dilandau only realized he had begun to beat up on the Dragon when Folken asked him about it. Serves the stupid thing right, resorting to heroics, how low of him. Effortlessly, he and his Slayers picked up the Ispano guymelef and flew it up to the docking bay. They set it down and Dilandau dismissed his slayers.
Dilandau decided he would only stay long enough to see who the pilot was. After that it was naptime, fights always made him sleepy. Then he could go and reprimand his troops for the sloppy job they did, hadn't he always taught them to be thorough? Folken opened up the cockpit and the 'melef spit out the pilot as if he had a nasty flavor. Out rolled that one Fanelian boy he saw at the outpost! Impossible, that runt was Fanelia's king?! He actually felt sorry for the little country. How did he ever manage to slip into power? There must have a real shortage of royal blood in Fanelia. This French-fry didn't even look like he could pick up a sword, let alone mange an entire kingdom. Bemused, he went to take a nap.
* * * * * * * *
On the way to his chambers, Dilandau overheard a couple of youthful guards gossiping about the king. Wait a second, how could they know that boy was here already? Dang, news traveled fast around here. Their information included an accurate description of him, that he was the king of Fanelia and that he was part Draconian. Weird, two out of three correct. Dilandau approached the guards, and they must not have noticed him eavesdropping on their conversation because they almost fell backward when they saw him.
"You two. Where is this prisoner being held? Take me to him now." Dilandau demanded of them.
What choice did they have but to follow his command?
So, up in the higher section of the Vione, Dilandau was surprised to see that he was actually being held in a bedroom, not a prison cell. ~Jeeze, just because he was a king didn't mean you had to give him special treatment, Folken~ He thought to himself. He forced the guards to promise him that they wouldn't tell anyone that he was here and sent them back to their posts. The boy-warrior picked the lock to the room and slipped himself inside. Dilandau looked over the boy and a curious feeling came over him. It was just like when that . . .thing . . . had held him. There was an absence of misery. He might even go as far as to admit that he felt . . . but he wouldn't go that far. It would suffice to admit that this boy was special. How? He wasn't willing to find that out presently.
Good thing, too, because at that moment the door to the room was being unlocked. Dilandau had 3.5 seconds to find a place to hide. His first and only option was under the bed, so that's where he disappeared to when none other than Folken himself paced into the room and the Fanelian king awoke above him.
* * * * *
Dilandau's muscles were beginning to become sore from holding their awkward position so long. Then finally the dark-haired king, named Van, collapsed to the floor in a heavy, drug-induced sleep. Folken left and locked the door behind him. Had he been crying when he left? Dilandau dislodged himself from his hiding spot and sat on the bed. So, the black haired brat and the Strategos were draconian brothers. What a small world Gaia was. And his name was Van. He argued with himself a bit over whether or not it was a stupid name.
This would useful information if ever he wanted to blackmail the Strategos.
Just looking at this Fanel boy made Dilandau's mouth go dry. That creamy, tan skin looked so inviting. ~I must be going insane~ he thought reprovingly at himself. A mere shrimp was in no way going to get the better of him. Dilandau decided he would heist Van off to his own quarters for a while for further investigation. Maybe this demon was just another present from that whacko- Death.
Gingerly, stretching his muscles, Dilandau sauntered over to the little heap on the floor. Van had fallen into an awkward bundle when he passed out. Dilandau shook his head and swept Van into his arms, and promptly left the room leaving no trace that he had been there. Van was surprisingly heavy, this baffled Dilandau, along with the boy's terrible fashion sense. Obviously he would look much better in plums, and vivid blues, not this tacky red and khaki. Wasn't their country wealthy enough to at least properly dress their royalty?
With little difficulty, Dilandau backed into his splendid bedroom, which looked more like it belonged in a castle than a floating fortress. Dilandau dropped Van to go run and jump onto his four-poster bed, so big and soft. He'd almost completely forgotten about Van, except that he'd dropped Van on his head, and therefore he woke up.
Van groaned, and struggled to stand up. He was in deep shock that his brother was still alive. He held back tears of joy, and of sadness. If his brother was alive, why didn't he simply come back home? They had always supported each other, and kept each other going in times of hardship. One always looked after the other, Folken had broken that trust. Van had to live all alone when he left and it had almost killed him.
" Are you going to attempt to run away, Fanel? I must say, you are not very good at it," Dilandau smirked. "Even if you were, there's nowhere to run to. You're in the heart of Zaibach territory now, and you're all mine."
Van shot his head in the direction of the sound of that menacing voice he knew he had heard before. There lay the albino boy in all his cat-like glory stretched out on the bed. Van looked around for any type of crude weapon, but the room seemed void of anything useful.
"Damn . . ." Van muttered and made a rash decision. He bolted for the open balcony window.
Dilandau leapt to the ground and after the Draconian King. ~Shit! The little twit is going to fly the coup!~ Van threw himself over the railing and smiled at the freedom he felt opening his wings. He stretched them and felt the wind move though his feathers, this was bliss. He was about to fly into the wild blue yonder when out of nowhere another external force tackled him. It was Dilandau, hanging onto him with a death grip and a rope tied firmly around his torso.
Van clenched his teeth and looked ready to strangle the Captain. Except, the look he was getting from the crazed pyro was completely unexpected. Dilandau's eyes pleaded Van not to leave, as if he needed to keep Van close and losing him would mean death. Van's heart did a 180, how could this guy have such a strong display of emotions in something that dealt in anything other than war? They hung in mid air, taken back by one another.
Dilandau was close to tears at how beautiful this creature was. These wings were what made Draconians into demons? Whoever made that up was stupid, this was actually beautiful. With one hand, Dilandau untied his lifeline. He was confident in this angel that had come to save his soul. He would not let him plummet to his doom. Quite innocently, Dilandau wrapped both of his arms tightly around Van's neck. He sighed at the weightlessness he felt at being suspended here in the air, the complete peace he felt being close to his very own Angel of light. Heaven had saved him, Shi would never hold any sway over his life ever again. He was home.
Van tensed up as Dilandau rested his head against his bare chest. The only thing about using his wings was that he lost whatever shirt he was wearing. Despite everything, Van no longer wanted to kill this . . . guy hanging around his neck. He swallowed a nervous lump that had been growing in the back of his throat. Van reluctantly flew back to the balcony, which required extra exertion due to the excessive weight he was carrying. By the time they alighted on the Vione, Van was very out of breath. Van let his wings disintegrate and the leftover feathers flew everywhere.
* * * * * On the Crusade* * * * *
Hitomi forgot all about Van when Allen swept her off her feet and carried her off to his private chambers.
"We'll look for the dragon in the morning, if that's alright with you Hitomi."
Hitomi had a terrible nosebleed and used three full handkerchiefs before it stopped. Then Allen turned his charm-'o-meter on to Full Blast and, well you can guess what happened next. [an: Grins evilly and snickers]
* * * * *Ahem! Where we were!* * * * *
Dilandau steadied on the ground, then turned back to Van and pulled him into a close embrace. He rested his head in the crook of the neck of the shorter boy and breathed in the wild scent of Fanelia. Fate had sent this precious present and he was not about to let anything part them. Van felt the possessiveness in the touch of the Albino boy and got very scared.
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And that will be the chapter. Yup! Did ya like it? It was fun to write. Please tell me what you thought. I'm anxious to know. : ) Sorry about the AllenxHitomi thing. It just happened. *smirk* It had to happen.