Chapter Four: The Fates That Bind

Pressing the palms of her hands against the cold wooden floor, Hitomi tried to push herself into an upright position. Her forearms shook with the effort of trying to uphold her exhausted form. She pushed herself up onto her knees and half-crawled, half-dragged her way through to the bathroom. The cold tiles scraped against her knees as Hitomi dragged her shivering frame across the freezing floor of the brightly illuminated bathroom. Coming up against the firm wall she slowly turned herself and used the wall as a support.

Her head was spinning, images of blood and fire flashed before her eyes. Choking back a sob she clutched her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around herself. Gagging with the white-hot pain in her head she moaned in the silence of the bathroom and pressed the heel of her palm to her eyes.

"Not again…" Her cracked voice echoed in the cold room. She slid down the wall and lay curled tightly on her side. The bathroom was bright, the glare from the fluorescent lights burning her eyes. It was so clean and sanitary in here, so white. The tiles looked like the walls of a padded cell, the disinfectant reminding her of endless corridors and dark nights. Stifling a sob she fought to push away unwanted memories and clenched her eyes shut tight.

Pain and confusion clouded her mind. The visions were back, but now they were stronger and more painfully vivid that ever before. This vision she didn't understand, not being able to remember specific details Hitomi fought to keep the visions. But like water held in cupped hands they slid away from her. She could remember something dark advancing on her, some fiery demon wreaking destruction leaving nothing but death in its wake. Was Van in danger? Was this a warning that something or someone was searching for him? Helplessness washed over her, even if it was a warning she no longer had her contact with Van and had no way to warn or save him. There was no premonition for the once-seer; she was merely left with the overpowering sense of fear that made her blood run cold.

Her eyelids felt heavy and drooped over blood-shot emerald eyes, curled on the cold bathroom floor and still shivering Hitomi fell into a fitful sleep. Her only saving grace was that she dreamt no more.

A cold wind whipped around him, blowing his dark cloak in a shadow that enveloped him. High above the thunder snarled like an angry dog and the rain poured down hard, stinging as it hit. Dilandau looked up at the large castle that dominated the skyline. An explosion of blue lightning flashed across the gargoyles; showing their twisted, snarling expressions in an unholy light. The Demon General handed the reins of his steed to the awaiting stable boy and led his rain soaked men into the castle.

As he strode into the main doors, Dilandau was struck by how empty it was. In the past bustling servants had always populated the castle, even at this late hour. A red-gloved hand appeared from the pools of black fabric and tugged down the hood of his cloak. Scornful red eyes surveyed the large halls as he was led to a waiting room. Instantly Dilandau felt the tension in the air, the fear that lingered and the darting eyes of the servants. And for once it was a fear that he had not induced. The castle was not as he remembered it, there was something definitely wrong and it hung in the air, the dread almost palpable.

The young boy that led him to a waiting room kept nervously casting glances back at him. Catching the boy's eye, the Demon General gave him a contemptuous look, the poor boy almost wetting his trousers in fear.

They reached a fairly large room, the entrance to which was flanked by two large guards. Dilandau found himself smirking at this, as if they'd stop him if he chose to get a little rough. As he was escorted into the room, the General let his eyes survey his surroundings. The room was dark, lit only by small torches and a fire in the grate. The windows were covered with dark and heavy drapes. Outside the storm still raged on, the wind battered against the windows, causing the panes of glass to rattle in their casings. He was alone, his men having been taken to another room at the request of the Princess. Dilandau couldn't help but frown ever so slightly at this, where was the King involved in all of this? He didn't ponder on it too much, took a note of it and stored it away in his the recesses of his calculating mind. Slowly, he circled the room judging by the oil paintings, the chairs and bureau piled with books Dilandau surmised himself to be in one of the lesser-seen rooms of the castle. Well, aren't I the privileged one? Dilandau was indeed right; he was standing in Gin'iro's personal study in the western wing of the castle. Not many people had seen it, and he couldn't have guessed how "privileged" he was.

Dilandau took off his rain-soaked cloak and draped it across the back of one of the chairs, running his gloved fingers through his wet hair he put order back into his unruly locks. As the General continued to stalk round the room, lifting the occasional book here and there his mind drifted to his 'Slayers. He held no worry for their whereabouts, knowing that if it came down to it they would have the sense to act in his absence. He had trained them personally after all. With collected feline grace Dilandau dropped into one of the chairs in front of the crackling fire. If memory served him rightly, Gin'iro was always late and royalty had that irritating penchant for making a grand entrance. And so he waited, seated in front of the fire that warmed his chilled body but did nothing to alleviate the scowl that deepened with each miet Gin' kept him waiting.

It wasn't as if she was keeping him waiting on purpose. The moment that she had seen whom it was approaching her castle she had left her chambers and made off to meet the General when he arrived. She could remember just how much he hated waiting and wanted their meeting to go as smoothly as possible. Halfway down the corridor she met with resistance from a gaggle of advisors.

"Milady!" They called after her, and try as she might she just couldn't pretend they weren't there.

"We have just heard the most disturbing news!" One huffed as they caught up to her.

"Really?" She queried, "What is it?"

"We have just heard the most ridiculous rumour. That General Albatou has arrived at the castle!" Her eyes darkened with suspicion and tapered at the edges, just how exactly had they heard that so quickly? You're wasting time here, Gin'. Each moment passed lessens his patience, and you'll need it when you pitch your plan to him. Oh Gods, was she actually aiming to be in the General's good graces?

"It's not a rumour. He is here." She replied curtly, turning swiftly and making her way down the corridor.

"Milady?" They called after her, baffled at the news. She stopped at a corner and reigned in the urge to scream at them all,

"Most trusted Advisors," if there was an edge of sarcasm to her voice, they missed it, "I have a most urgent meeting with General Albatou, one that I must not be late for. However, tomorrow I will schedule a council meeting so that these apparently perplexing events can be explained in full. A good night to you all." And with that she zipped down the hall and was gone before they could close their gaping mouths.

Abandoning all pretences Gin'iro reached down and gathered her dress in folds of fabric in her fists and practically ran the long way from her chambers at the highest floor of the castle, down flights of stairs to her personal study in the west wing. However, the dress and heeled shoes that she had changed into did nothing to help her in her attempt at a speedy greeting. She had of course, been forced by protocol to change into formal wear. It would not do for a Princess to meet with anyone wearing an unrefined riding outfit.

Stopping at the door she took a calming breath and smoothed her hands over the rumpled dark material of her dress. Running over her plan and possible retorts to insults (purely for backup, of course) through her head, Gin' raised her chin a few notches and swept into her study and into the audience of the awaiting General.

The silver-haired man in question turned his head away from the fire in the hearth and watched Gin' as she regally walked into his seething presence. He rose to his feet and glowered at her, eyes dark and half-hidden under his furrowed brow. His arms came across his chest as he watched her walk further into the room.

At his look she quailed inside, but by pure breeding alone managed to remain composed. Keeping her gaze level with his, she allowed her chin to drop in a mere hint of acknowledgement.

"General," she broke the tense silence in a calm voice, "So good of you to some so quickly. I trust you have been well?"

Her voice only served to add further fuel to the fire of anger that razed in his veins. Dilandau was tired and uncomfortable in his wet armour, although he would never admit this aloud. He didn't have a remaining shred of patience left to dance around the issue with pleasantries and made it plain to Gin'iro.

"Get to the point, Princess. Why am I here?" He snarled.

Well, I can hardly say that was unexpected. Gin' gave a slight nod and moved past him to a large cherry-wood cabinet that leaned against a far wall. From it she removed a beautifully sculpted crystal decanter and two gold edged chalices. Dilandau watched the red liquid as it sloshed against the clear walls of the bottle as Gin' removed the stopper and poured two glasses. Coming back to the centre of the room, where he stood, she proffered him a glass. He eyed it warily and looked back at the woman with evident distrust on his features,

"General, despite many a threat from my childhood; I haven't stooped so low as to poison your drink." She declared, taking a sip from her own glass.

"Well that's certainly comforting." He drawled taking a swallow, all the while watching her carefully. It was Asturain vino, the only kind that Dilandau truly appreciated and enjoyed, it had been a while since he had last tasted it.

"Princess," His voice taunted her, a smirk beginning to twist the corners of his mouth, "Are you attempting to bribe me?"

"Of course not." Her voice sounded a little too snappish for her liking and she cleared her throat. "I'm not, General. I merely thought that after travelling so far that you might enjoy a glass of the finer brands of vino before we proceed." She amended smoothly. Wonderful, now I'm a sycophant.

He nodded in response, that irritating all-knowing smirk staying in place. Right, enough beating around the bush; let's get down to the matter at hand. She moved away and took a seat at the large dark table close to the covered windows, placing her goblet on the table the Princess motioned for him to take a seat across from her. She watched as he did so, in a fluid movement he dropped into the winged chair, one hand coming to a rest on the arm the other's fingers laced around the glass. Gin'iro unlocked a drawer at her right and pulled out a large stack of paper, she ignited an oil lamp and Dilandau examined her in the buttery light. Since he had last seen her she'd grown, that much was obvious. She looked much older than she should though, and something about her disposition was putting him off. His gaze was cool as he tried to decipher what it was. When she had greeted him she'd been the picture of a poised and somewhat aloof royal, but Dilandau could feel that there was something being hidden under the veneer of composure. Then he saw it as she shifted in the lamplight. Tiny, almost imperceptible lines creased at the corners of her eyes. Under her eyes grey shadows lurked, it looked as though she'd tried to hide them with powder, but Dilandau Albatou missed nothing. Then it all became clear, faced pinched with worry and as her eyes moved he caught it. A flicker of fear darted in those amethyst depths of hers. Dilandau was an expert in fear, he commanded it, induced it, revelled in it. Like some primal animal he could sense it in his victims and company. And Gin'iro was in fear of something. Something so bad that it lurked in her eyes and leaked into her physical features, and indeed it must be bad for she had called for his assistance. And he had no doubts on where she stood on her opinion of him. He didn't care of course; the feeling was mutual.

"So, Princess is this some ploy for me to die from boredom? Or are you going to get to the point before the night is through?" Dilandau enquired lazily, swirling the vino around in his glass.

She chose to ignore his tone and leaned forward, fingers interlinked and hands rested on top of the large pile of papers.

"Firstly, General, as surprising as this may sound, I would like to thank you for journeying here so quickly and on such short notice." He raised an eyebrow at this, yet remained silent. "I was deliberately very vague in my correspondence with you. One has to be these days, never know who's going to get a hold of such things."

He saw it in her eyes and heard it in her voice, uncertainty and mistrust. This is going to be most interesting indeed.

She looked up at him, his face was impassive and she couldn't determine anything from his body language or guarded eyes.

"I imagine you're wonder where the King is in all of this. He would normally deal in such matters, but as it is…" Gin' trailed off and took a sip of her vino. Not out of any urge to drink, just to wet her dry throat and stall to gather her thoughts.

Dilandau sat straighter in his chair, instantly intrigued by the direction that she was taking,

"And what exactly are the conditions that prevent the King from gracing me with his presence?" His demeanour changed from boredom to one of acute awareness. This was where Gin' knew she had to be careful, one slip and he'd shred her to pieces.

"What I'm about to tell you is in the strictest of confidences, Dilandau." She was using that tone now, the one of royalty, cool and commanding with a threatening edge to it. Dilandau laughed in response,

"Are you threatening me?" He curved his lips into a smirk, but his eyes showed no sign of amusement. He looked dangerous and she had to tread very carefully here.

"I don't threaten, General." She said coldly, "It's the truth, what I'm about to tell you can never go beyond us. Not for the moment anyway."

"Go on." When was she going to get to the damn point?!

"I need your word."

That was it, he snapped, the corner of a dark eye twitched in irritation "Are you serious? I get a letter when I'm in the middle of battle telling me that you have an offer that I just "won't be able to refuse". I come all this way only to be greeted by a tardy Princess. And when you finally get here you dance about the issue and give off vague impressions of what it's all about. I did not come here to play some little game with you Gin'iro, so get to the damn point and stop yanking my dick before I leave!" He spat, his eyes sparking with fury.

Gin' paled then flushed at his words. Certainly, since he had left Folken's command he had become brasher and his language more vulgar.

"I'm not…"yanking" any part of your anatomy, General. But this is of a most sensitive nature-"

"Get to the point." He interjected his voice a forced calm, but she felt the undercurrents of anger.

Her brow furrowed in worry, "Very well." Damn it, this was just not going to plan. She discarded her well-rehearsed speech and spat it out, "My father's dying, and I'll be queen in a few short moons, if what the doctor says is correct. My people don't know of my father's ailing health. Mainly because I know that it must be kept a secret from Rafe until Hadrian is more secure. I don't trust any of the royal council, they all want to marry me off to some oaf. Apparently a woman is incapable of ruling alone. Not only that, I'm betrothed, but to whom I don't know because the papers have been lost over the years and my father doesn't have the presence of mind to tell me. Of course, providing that I actually live a day longer than my father, I also have my scheming oldest brother to worry about. I don't know what he's got planned or who he's bribed. Relations with Cesario are becoming increasingly tenuous, we're at the brink of war. I don't trust my father's General. Which is where you come in. I asked for you to come here, because-…" she paused, "The position of General of Hadrian's armies is about to become free, you're the only man on Gaia that I can think of that is capable for the job." She rushed out in a manner unbefitting a noble.

Oh yes Gin', very regal and composed. What would father think if he could see this? I'll never get him to do this now. That small voice inside her head sneered amidst the images of what would become of Hadrian and herself if she failed.

Throughout her speech Dilandau had remained quiet, and once she finished her little outburst his only reaction was the blinking of his eyes and a slight twitch in his cheek. She held her breath waiting for some kind of verbal response. And it became quite clear that she wasn't going to get one, he leaned back in his chair and a wicked grin began to spread across his lips. His eyes glittered with dark amusement and at his low laugh, Gin' felt any shred of hope she had fade away.

Dilandau took his sweet time processing this new information. From the way that he interpreted it, Gin'iro had no choice but to come to him. Everything was falling apart around her she had no knowledge of warfare whatsoever and her only hope for the survival of her country was winning the impending war with Cesario. Which was where he came in to play, quite nicely actually. He didn't have to take the offered position. Part of him wanted to watch her face fall as he declined, for her to cringe as his mocking laughter rang out in the halls as he took his leave. What would happen to her then, he wondered. Would she fall apart when her country needed her? Would she end her own life? Fall at the hands of another? What would happen to the great country of Hadrian? Once Cesario had taken all that it wanted from Her, it'd be left to the vultures to pick at whatever resources were left. He could see it all in his mind, the kind of fate that awaited Gin' and Hadrian if he refused. The opportunity to watch this kind of destruction was almost to good to be true. After all the time that he'd spent with the irritating royal across from him, he'd wanted nothing more than to see her destroyed. But, when he'd fantasized about it, she hadn't fallen at the hand of another; it had been him and his blade that had tasted her royal flesh. It had been his armour that her "blue" blood had spattered across as he cut off her pleas with one swipe and his cruel laughter that had tolled her death.

Gin'iro did not like the look upon Dilandau's face. He looked positively frightening; his eyes were unfocused and glowing with passionate bloodlust. A mad grin split his expression, his cheek ticking in rhythm with his gloved fingers as he stroked the side of his face. She couldn't even begin to imagine what he was thinking. So perturbed by his appearance, she didn't dare provoke him for an answer.

Dilandau's thoughts completed a full circle of analysis as he pondered the full implications of Gin'iro's proposal. Now that he thought about it, what she was so eagerly offering him sounded better than slashing her jugular. If he took her up on her offer, he'd have power, the kind that he had back in the days of the Black Dragon Clan. A whole, highly trained, fully outfitted army at his command. And a war tantalizingly looming in front of him. He began to feel almost giddy at the prospect, once again Gaia would tremble at his feet, cower at his rage and hundreds of men would fall at his hand in wave after wave of delicious crimson. Yes, what she offered was what he wanted. Memories of past, glorious battles played in his mind and he could feel himself tremble in anticipation at the prospect of causing more bloodshed on such a scale. This was the opportunity that he'd been waiting for; this was the position that was worthy of him and his men. Dilandau's grin widened and to Gin' he looked like the devil incarnate.

He'd already decided to take her up on her offer. But as his focus snapped to her and she flinched at his murderous look, he decided to drag it out a little. He did need his fun; after all he had spent hours travelling in the rain. She didn't need to know of his decision, not yet at least. Just how far will you go to get me on your side, Princess? How much can I make you do, make you give me? What lengths will you take bribery to?

Finally, after miets that seemed to drag by like hours to Gin', Dilandau spoke. He drained his glass and leaned forward. Burning dark scarlet eyes caught her own as they glittered with a sinister light. This was it; she held her breath in anticipation. He saw it and mentally smirked at how weak she was. Taking a slow, deliberate breath, he exhaled the smell of vino pervading her senses. His voice was deep and tainted with some kind of glee that Gin' didn't dare dwell on.

"I'll need to sleep on it." He informed her flatly, keeping his face inexpressive.

"What?!" she barked, the word leaving her mouth before she could stop it. Was he serious?

Smoothly, one sterling brow rose as he regarded her with cool eyes. "This is something that I need to think about, Princess." He sneered at her title, "I already have a much coveted position in the east. If I were to take up this new station, certain sacrifices would have to be made. I must take the time to deliberate on my options." He kept his voice even despite the urge to laugh at the look of anger and shock that registered on her face.

He was challenging her and she knew it. How far was he going to take this little game of his? She had no clue as to what decision he had made, only that he had made one. Gin' had spent enough time around Dilandau in their earlier years to be well aware of his impulsive nature and that he never took the time to "deliberate on options". He was teasing her. How far are you going to push me, Dilandau? Are you going to force this to its limits, see how far I'll go to get you on my side then tell me no? What are you going to make me do, make me give you? She wanted to scream at him that she didn't have the time to wait around for him to make up his deranged mind. Pooling all of her willpower the princess forced herself to stay still in her chair and not reach out and throttle him all the while screaming that they had very little time left and she just did not have the patience for his sick little games. She knew full well of his "coveted" position in the east, and knew as well as he that what she offered was more prestigious. Gin' wanted to tell him as much but thought better of it. The meeting had gone exactly the way that she had hoped to avoid. Her intention had been to keep the upper hand and avoid such typically Dilandau-styled negotiations. But, somehow he had gotten the better of her and held the upper hand.

She was at his mercy and there was nothing she could do about it. It infuriated her no end, and she hated being so powerless. Her only hope was that Dilandau got tired of this game quickly and made her torture short lived, she shuddered to think of what demands he would make of her to sway his decision. She would do what was necessary in the name of her country, but she had limits. If Dilandau presumed to push her too far she'd send him on his way, help or no help. She'd just have to do it by herself, or find someone else to take up the position. Gaia certainly wasn't short of warriors.

With that (minuscule) comforting thought, she plastered on a fake smile and rose from her chair, "Of course, you and your men must be tired from your long journey, General. You are most welcome to spend the night in the castle. Someone will show your men to the barracks." She kept her voice light and smooth. He didn't need to know of the profanities that she was mentally hurling his way.

Grasping a long stretch of fabric she hauled it a little too sharply and Dilandau didn't bother to hide his grin at that. He had really gotten under her skin, and he knew it. Almost the instant after Gin'iro had rang a servant entered the room and bowed,

"Princess Gin'iro?"

"Koru, please show the General to one of the guest suites on the third floor and send for someone to show his Dragonslayers to the unoccupied barracks." She ordered, ice infecting her tone.

The young man nodded and stepped back as Dilandau rose to his full and imposing height, picking up his cloak he cast a smug look her way and gave her the barest of nods, "Princess."

She watched as he followed Koru out of the room and as the door closed behind him slumped down into her chair. Damp fingertips touched her forehead and she realised that her hands had been sweating throughout the entire ordeal. A dull ache had settled between her eyes and letting out a long, deep sigh she scrunched herself lower into the cushions of her chair. Her mind running over what had transpired a wry, humourless smile tugged at her lips,

"Who's yanking whose dick now, Dilandau?"

To be continued…

30/05/04