Darkness in the Twilight
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal
Matter of Honor
It was later in the day when Celena became frantic. Her brother was not in his room last night after she came back from her . . . date, she supposed she could call it. It was well after mid-night. What was odd, not only the late hour in which she found her brother missing from his very own chambers, but that his bed had not been used. Jealousy rose up, but just as soon as it came, it was gone.
She'd gone everywhere around the fort the next day, asking around at all the soldiers if they'd seen Allen wander about. Surely her knight had duties to attend to - what was even more strange, that not one soldier . . . not one . . . mentioned that he had seen him. Where in the world could he be? It was late in the afternoon when she finally came walking down the barracks wing with a vengeance in her step, calling out in the hallway.
"Allen!" she called. She wore pants, and she was thankful that she did. Surely, at the pace she walked, the skirts would have tripped her by then. "Allen, where are you?" and she opened the door to his room again - still the same unused bed, not even the water basin wet from use.
Allen groaned from Gaddes' room, but didn't wake fully. Instead, he buried himself further into the covers, curling up a little more, doing his best to ignore the aches in his body. He hadn't meant to sleep so much... or sleep at all, really, but his body had taken over, forcing him to do it.
Woman's intuition could be a curse or blessing - depending on who was on the receiving end. Celena knew that Allen was close to Gaddes . . . she'd even known that there was an unusual closeness there, and therefore only had a hunch to go on. But she took that hunch, slowly making her way down the hall to the first mate's room.
The door only swung open a little, and Celena stared for a second - her brother's back was turned to her on the bed. He lay curled up into himself. For a few long, painful moments, she really couldn't say anything - and part of her didn't want to . . . thinking that Allen might be asleep.
At the sound of the door opening, Allen's eyes flickered open and he tensed, his heart speeding up in a panic. His first reaction... he was back. Back to shred what little pride Allen had left. The blonde couldn't stop the soft whimper that passed through his lips, curling in on himself more.
The clothes he'd worn last night lay aside, the fine shirt torn, his body clothed in some that were, honestly, a little too big for him. Gaddes'.
Her eyes widened in surprise when his whimpers reached her ears, and she hurried inside the room - the sound of her footsteps making him shudder for some reason. She was scared for him - because for some reason, he was deathly frightened of something. She touched his shoulders.
Allen curled up, tugging away from the light touch, burying his face in the pillows. "No," he whispered, his voice trembling softly.
"Allen," she breathed, completely frightened herself. She'd never seen her brother like this - ever. Allen was strong, bold, and firm. . . the epitome of courage, her knight. She'd found him in Gaddes' room, at first suspecting that he was having an affair with his first mate but - no, he was scared and hiding from something. . . or someone.
He had shrugged away from her touch, but she placed her hand on his tender shoulder again. "Allen, it's me. Celena. My knight, what is wrong? Why do you shrink away from my touch?"
Allen lifted his head slightly... Celena. It had to be her, didn't it? His mind raced. What could he pass this off as? The blonde knight shook his head slightly, not rolling over to face her.
"Dream... I had a dream..."
"A dream?" she questioned. Bringing her face down to his ear, she nuzzled him gently with a smile, "Have you been cheating on me with Gaddes?"
Allen started a little. "What? No... no, but you weren't there last night..." The blonde shook his head slightly, knowing the excuse he'd given was lame.
"I wasn't . . .?" but she relented into a wider smile, "Oh, I see - so you're jealous too, then? That I was called upon by one of your dashing, roguish soldiers?" She stood up, sweeping around dramatically and putting a hand to her forehead, "And so you rush off into the arms of another man! Oh, woe is me..."
Allen almost smiled, but he couldn't quite. "Something like that," he murmured, letting her tease. Again, a source of normalcy, of rightness.
"Well, come on then. Don't be lazy!" She grabbed his arm and started to pull him up.
Allen hissed as his shoulder was jerked, wincing. "No... no... want to sleep..."
"What?" she asked incredulously, "Sleep? It's nearly dinner time!"
"I'm not hungry..."
Now this, she knew was not normal. Something was amiss and again, she could not help but feel that frightening chill down her spine. "Allen, something happened. You're not like this. What's wrong?"
"Just leave it... I'll be fine..." Panic started to flare again. What could he say to her? What would discourage her?
But somehow the memories came back to her. Everything she'd been trying to forget - successfully forgetting - all of it came back. The man, evil and wicked with horrible teeth, who ravaged and abused her body in the forests outside of their own home. How could she have forgotten so quickly? But she looked to her brother, looking so weak and frail and afraid - looking like she did that terrible night.
She'd forgotten because he was her strength. Because he had pledged his love for her, had assured her that her beauty to him was unmarred - and so she fell in love with her pillar of strength. But he was no longer there. It was only a horrible reminder . . . but her brother? How could it happen to her brother? Her knight? What evil force came forth from the abyss and did this, for surely no man could have ever touched Allen in her eyes. . .
Yet here he was, broken and afraid - and now suddenly she knew why.
"It - no . . . Dearest Allen, no!" her voice was but a harsh whisper, barely audible in her complete shock, "How - how . . . my gods. No. . ." She tried to touch his shoulder, finding that her hand was shaking as she did so.
Allen drew away, shuddering slightly. She knew. She couldn't, he didn't want her to. "Stop," he murmured softly, shaking his head a little. Why did she have to know? Why couldn't it have been a secret?
Why did he have to be so helpless?
It was as if the Universe itself swallowed Celena, crumbled down on her like a thousand mountains, making her fall. Her eyes screwed shut, her hands clasped to her heart as if it had stopped - a devastating, silent wail formed from her mouth. The epitome of anguish, suddenly upon the two most gentle people in all of Gaea. Celena shook so hard, her curls bounced wildly. She finally fell to her knees.
Her voice tore from her throat, a cry of such agony to make the very angels weep to their deaths. And in that cry could only be formed one word.
"Why?!"
The sound of heartbreak could be heard by even the most deaf of men, but here only reverberated off of crackled plaster walls.
Allen winced softly, but said nothing. His pride had been torn away, his shame complete. Now she knew and that was worse than before. She knew how helpless he was, she knew his weaknesses.
She knew he crawled to Gaddes instead of her.
The blonde had no more tears to shed, but if he had, he would have wept. Her sorrow was his, his hands clasped, shaking, to his chest.
Celena's throat felt choked, her eyes refused to open, her hands were clasped beneath her chin. She rocked, and rocked, trying to comfort herself - broken sobs came from her torn voice. Her mind refused to work, but her lips kept chanting the same word of 'why' until she couldn't form them anymore. Somehow, she'd managed to crawl up onto the bed where her brother lay in turmoil.
She didn't notice, or care, if he pulled away. Her arms were strong, and they wanted nothing more than to hold him to her tightly - like he had to her in her time of need. So she did, pressing her to him like her most precious doll, and sobbing into his backside.
Allen, at first, tensed immensely, his lithe frame shaking, though never to the extent he had the night before. He was... frightened. Of her. Of what she might think. Of her horror and her pain.
His helplessness had caused her pain. He'd done it again... inadvertently hurting her. Allen shuddered, his face pressed into the pillows. Sometime, Gaddes would return, but he didn't know when. He'd lost track of time, he didn't care...
Even as she sobbed, Celena held him. Even as he shook, she was there for him. She moved so that her mouth was close to his ear, nuzzling his head despite her tears dripping into his beautiful hair. And she spoke to him in between shuddering breaths.
"We're in this together. You're not alone, I'm here - with you. I'm always with you. I'll never leave you. I'll always love you, do you understand me. I'm never leaving your side, ever. Together. We're always together, we'll always be together." The words themselves seemed convoluted. They came from her heart, and her heart being broken as it was, could only say the truth in so many words.
She would never desert him for this. Not now, not ever - for he did not desert her. She would be damned if she let anyone near either of them again, the strength in her arms confirming her determination - her protection. Never again. "No one will touch us ever again." she said through clenched teeth.
Allen shook his head slightly. "Just stop, please," he murmured, his voice quivering. He didn't want to hear it, he didn't want to think about it. He just wanted it to go away. Just to fade, to be forgotten, pushed aside.
Allen pulled slightly out of her embrace, curling in on himself.
Helpless. Always so helpless.
Celena didn't know how to feel with her own brother not even wanting her touch - she didn't understand. She'd craved his comfort . . . but when something just as horrible happens to him, he pushes her away? Her face only twisted in pain, suppressing a sob, and turning onto her side with her back against his.
"No . . ." she pleaded with no one in particular, please don't take him away from me.
That was the state that Gaddes found them in, both huddled up on his bed with their backs turned to each other. He quickly shut his door, and looking back at Celena who'd been facing him, he could tell she was quietly crying to herself. So she found out somehow. He went over to them both, checking on Celena, who hardly responded, before checking on Allen.
"Allen, how are you feeling?" he asked tentatively.
Allen ducked his head a bit, even at his friend's inquiry.
"She knows," he muttered, almost bitterly... though he was sure it was obvious.
Bitterness directed at himself, of course, like always. He couldn't help her when this had happened to her... he couldn't help himself... he was just generally miserable. Very miserable. She knew and he'd pushed her away for it. His pride, maybe... he didn't want to tarnish her like this, she didn't deserve it. He'd hurt her again, he knew... but somehow he couldn't find the energy to comfort her.
It was Celena who replied. "How could I *not* know?" she asked bitterly, accusingly, "It happened to me too. Gods, or don't you remember?"
Allen sighed, falling silent. He didn't have anything to say... of course he remembered. It was part of the reason he wanted to keep it a secret. The blonde lay on the opposite end of the bed, curled rather tightly, ignoring the aches he felt physically for the one that tore at his heart.
Gaddes was at a loss. He had two distraught people on his bed, both of whom suffered recent malicious events that no person, man, women, child, should ever have to endure. He himself had sympathy for such people due to his own painful experience. But like this - he just didn't know what to do. Allen would not move, and it was probably better that way for now. So his only choice was to take Celena back to her room - since it was obvious Allen was uncomfortable.
"Come on, Celena." he said gently to her, helping her straighten up to her feet. "I'll take you to your room. Might be safer for you to have dinner in there tonight, okay?" he patted her hand. She nodded softly in compliance.
Allen stiffened, sitting up so quickly that he got dizzy. He shook his head to clear it.
"No! No, she can't stay there.. he... he said he'd go for her next, just..." Allen gritted his teeth a bit, shaking his head. "She can't..."
His suddenness made Celena stumble in surprise, and she reeled to look at him. "What?" she asked frantically, "But - but where would I go? We're miles from anything!"
"You can't go back," he shuddered, shaking his head. There had to be someone she could stay with. "I... you stay here."
He'd go back to his own room. That would be alright, wouldn't it? She'd be safe. That was what mattered... he'd been shamed as it was, who cared if it happened again? He was tarnished... all that mattered was keeping her safe.
"Stay here?" Celena asked, "With Gaddes? What about you? Are you going to stay here too? Gaddes, where did it happen?" she asked of the soldier who still had a gentle hold on her arm.
"Ah," Gaddes began softly, before whispering the answer in her ear. Her eyes widened visibly when she'd heard him say it took place in her brother's own chambers.
Allen sighed, shaking his head. "I'll stay with Riden." The thought of returning to his quarters, especially so soon, disturbed him and set him on edge. He couldn't go back there. She'd be safe with Gaddes and he'd stay the night with Riden. He might ask questions, but Allen didn't think he'd mind horribly much if Allen didn't answer them.
"No," Celena insisted, taking her arm out of Gaddes' grasp and going to her brother again. She took her brother's arm and sat next to him on the bed, insisting, "I want to stay with you."
Allen shook his head slightly, carefully extracting his arm. "No... you stay with him, you'll be fine here."
"But, Allen . . ." she began to argue, unsure of what to even say to him. How do you deal with someone as close as Allen was to Celena - when they'd just been so violently abused? She had no answer, and only continued trying to take his arm for some sort of comfort - offering it, or receiving it, it didn't matter.
Gaddes stepped up to them and knelt down on one knee, "Allen, are you sure you want to be separated from Celena after yesterday? Something still needs to be done. The men are looking for possible suspects - before you ask, they don't know what happened. Just that there were some soldiers they need to look out for . . . You've got many pairs of eyes that are loyal to you here, Allen."
"Gaddes... I was thinking about it earlier. I... I'll take care of it. When I can stop shaking enough to stand, I'll take care of it." Allen sighed softly, a hand resting on Gaddes' shoulder lightly. "I promise it'll be alright. I'll be fine with Riden and she'll be fine here, with you."
He didn't want her touch right now... it was too intimate... and he was still so tarnished. Not until he'd gained back his pride, not until he'd taken care of this.
"Alright, Allen," he said softly to him, looking at the pale haired girl beside his friend as she finally gave up trying to hold some part of her brother to her bosom. "Celena, you'll stay here and sleep in my bed. You're not to move from my room. I'll have dinner brought to both of you. Allen, you need to eat something."
It was like he turned from a first mate into Celena's usual role of doting aunt within a day's time. He would never deny that he cared for the fragile young people that sat so shaken on his bed - his heart broke with the turmoil they have to endure. . . just for being beautiful, gentle people. And damn it, that simply wasn't fair.
Allen sighed softly, but nodded. He'd have to keep healthy to get past this, he knew. At least Gaddes wasn't arguing about it. "Get Riden, if you would. That way he won't be as surprised when I show up."
"Okay, I'll be right back," promised the first mate, leaving quickly upon his task. Celena's voice trembled when she finally was able to speak to him privately - she was so confused.
"I don't understand . . ." she whispered, finding herself unable to shed anymore tears from her reddened eyes. "Why don't you want me with you?"
"You'll understand later," he murmured softly. Later. Not right now. He couldn't deal with it right now. He was glad, for once, that he was blind. He couldn't see her cry, he couldn't see her pain, though he could feel it.
He had to redeem himself, first.
"But . . ." she sniffled, leaning away from him on the headboard of the bed. "Are you not my husband now?"
For only a few more moments there was silence that filled the room, save for Celena's sniffles - of which she desperately tried to quell the moment she heard a pair of footsteps outside of Gaddes' door. She looked to the heavy oak and watched as it swung open. Riden was nearly pushed inside by Gaddes, who shut the door behind him as quick as possible.
"Alright, alright! I'm in, yeesh." said the smaller man with his loud mouth, "Yikes, boss. You don't look so good. Gaddes said I should keep you in my room, but he wouldn't say why and made me promise not to ask - so I won't ask." Truthfully, when Gaddes first told him that he was to harbor their commanding officer in his own room, Riden was more than a little frightened. He liked his commander and was loyal to him . . . but in his room? Even Riden could sense that something was going on, but the loyalty he held was thankfully far above any suspicions.
Allen managed a little grin. "I bet I do look like I'm in pretty bad shape, eh?" Paler than usual, the bruising dark against his pretty, pale flesh. His bottom lip was still sensitive, though the swelling had thankfully gone down.
"I appreciate you tolerating me, I'm sure it'll be a little awkward. But it shan't be for too long."
"Right, boss. No problem. Kio won't mind either - since I don't get my own room like the second in command. Lucky bastard, Gaddes." Riden always tried to make things lighter, and most of the time he managed quite well just by his ignorance and carefree demeanor. It might get him killed one day.
Just as Allen was about to be lead away by the small soldier, Celena was reminded of something that had been precious - one of the very few memories she had of their mother. It came and went in a flash, and it was something to do with giving her 10 year old brother a kiss on the cheek before going to bed. She would always squirm and struggle when her mother said, "Give your brother a kiss. Allen, you too, give her a kiss goodnight." It was, after all, tradition to meet and part with kisses on the cheek. Allen, at that age, hadn't liked the idea anymore than Celena when she was 5.
But it was her mother's reason for such affection that struck her suddenly. "What if you never saw your brother again, Celena? Don't you want to know that you've at least given him one last kiss?" That it could be the very last time she ever saw her poor brother, the last chance to kiss him - for she really never hated him - oh, her mother was very good at guilt trips. Apparently, even from the grave.
Celena launched herself from the bed to Allen, not caring what he might think, how he might react. One last kiss - that special kiss was laid upon his cheek, just in case she never saw him again. "I won't part from you without one last kiss." she whispered despairingly.
Allen started a little, turning his head towards her. He was... startled, the movement unexpected. The blonde sighed a bit, nodding to her. He couldn't bring himself to return it. He just couldn't. Allen was a little shaky on his legs, but it was nothing too bad. He could walk and that was what counted, right?
The blonde turned to Riden, nodding to him. "Lead on, then," he murmured softly, running a hand lightly through his hair. He felt bad for the way he treated her... but he couldn't do anything else. He couldn't, not yet.
Riden let Allen take his arm, always the upper arm for reasons that Riden had a mind not to question. Both he and Kio situated their commander in the small room they bunked in, Kio offering to get a plate of food for his captain, and Riden keeping - for once - silent company. He couldn't help but always stare in fascination as his commander ate . . . and he knew he was shaken up, but . . .
"Hey, boss?" said Riden, Kio groaning as he sharpened his sword in the corner of their room. "What's all that stuff about potatoes at 12 o'clock and pork at 5 ?"
"Think about a clock, Riden," Allen murmured, lifting his head a little. "I don't understand why she's so picky about it, but she is." It might have been for his benefit, but he couldn't have cared less, really.
Allen shook his head slightly, sighing a little. There were so many things she did for him that he could have done without. But even still, they were touching.
"A clock?" said Riden, scratching his head and looking adorably bewildered.
"You are such a moron," said Kio from his corner, giving his blade a long appraising glance down the length of it. "A plate is round like a clock, so if you think of a clock and where the numbers are, he can find the food on the plate." Kio, too, had his slow moments - so the fact that he'd figured it out before Riden was, in itself, rather impressive.
Allen grinned a little. "I guess she does it for my benefit, but I don't see the point. It all goes to the same place, eh? And what does it matter if one thing's eaten before another? But I wouldn't bother questioning her about it."
"Well," said Riden, prolonging the vowel as he really thought about it. It was almost childlike they way he looked when he asked questions. "I know I wouldn't like to eat something I hate. Like vegetables. So if she told me that vegetables were at . . . at - 8 o'clock . . . I'd stay the hell away from 8 o'clock."
Allen wasn't going to mention that Riden could see, but he nodded slightly. "She's rather... obsessive about that, as well." The food had to be right, perfect. Nothing he didn't like. She knew him well enough to be aware of such things.
"Well, at least you've got the idea, eh?"
"Yeah, I get the idea." said Riden happily. It was like he completely forgot why their commander was even staying with him and his bunkmate. One would suppose Riden was always a little flighty - on top of being loud mouthed and tactless. It was comical, the way he lay on his cot, fidgeting as he watched Allen . . . it meant he had more questions. And Kio was too busy with his precious sword to stop him.
"So, boss, do blind people read?" he asked in his usual carefree tone.
"Well, I'm sure there are ways that have been come up with. Though I do admit I haven't gone out of my way to find out if it's true. I believe Icarus might have mentioned something once, but I wasn't really paying attention." The questions, while reminding him of his blindness, were comforting. They kept his mind away from the occurrences of the night before.
Riden saw that Allen was quietly finished with his plate - the food having been placed on it most precariously, as per Celena's insistence. The smaller man hopped up from his bed and went over to where Allen sat on the floor against the wall, gently taking the plate.
"Let me get that for you, boss," he said, and set the plate aside on his storage chest. Taking a seat next to Allen - now that his commander seemed less intimidating - Riden brought a leg up to his chest and leaned back on the wall. "What about writing?"
"Well... eventually I'll get to it, I'm sure. It's a skill I won't like having to give up. Hopefully I'll find a way to deal with it accordingly. Allen turned his head slightly towards Riden, inclining it a little. He really was... rather easy to get along with. Not that they didn't know that already.
"Yeah, boss," said Kio, who actually looked up from his sword to join in on the conversation, "You had really nice hand writing when ever you wrote letters to people. Guess that's something they teach you nobles from the crib, right?"
"It is." Allen nodded a bit. "I think mother wanted me to be a scholar more than anything else... but we saw how far I got with that, mm?" Granted, his handwriting had been foppish... and Allen was just that. Foppish.
"So, boss," Riden again, like a spark at Allen's right side. "Why'd you start using the cane around the fort?" Kio actually said nothing when this question was asked - whether it was because he, too, grew more comfortable around his commander or he just didn't care, no one could tell.
"Well... it took a bit of talking to get me to do it, but I know I'd have less of a chance of killing myself on all the stairs in here. Which reminds me... I never realized just how many flights of stairs there are in this place. But that's besides the point."
Allen paused, staying silent for a long moment. He trusted these men. They would keep his secrets safe enough, just as Gaddes would. He wouldn't tell them fully, everything that happened. Last night would stay silent, but...
The blonde ran a hand through his hair with a soft sigh. "There are a few newer residents that are a bit... disgruntled, I'd say. I am, after all, younger than most of you, and, well... I'm blind. Now be honest... if you hadn't served with me before all this and you got stuck out here with a blind commander who was younger than you, would you be happy? I certainly wouldn't."
"Well, I don't know, boss," said Riden kindly, bringing his finger up to his mouth. His eyes stared up at the ceiling as he thought about his commander's question, before answering with a wide smile, "You're a nice guy. Being blind shouldn't matter. And being younger than us shouldn't either. I'd still like you. . ."
"Yeah, boss. I'm actually gonna agree with Riden - but don't read anything into it, since he's still an idiot." That statement earned Kio a look of resentment from Riden, but he just grinned, "You're tough for a nobleman. And for your age. In fact, anyone who treats you bad - I'd still knock their skulls around."
"My thanks, then, to both of you." Allen smiled a bit, rather touched by their loyalty, as well as their admittances of respect. It made this whole thing at least a little bit easier. "Well... anyway, I plan on taking care of that, and damn soon. Shall we say there was an incident with the stairs? That's how I dislocated my shoulder. Allen shook his head a little. Maybe they'd believe that was why he was all bruised up, too.
"Boss!" Riden exclaimed, "Are you saying that . . . with the guys you think don't like you? And the stairs? Boss, did they push you down those stairs?" Pretty quick for Riden - impressive. His tone implied that he couldn't quite believe anyone would willingly hurt their commander, on pain of discharge after a swift caning. Not only that but, who in their right might would maliciously hurt an innocent blind man? Riden's heart was almost too innocent, too naive to think of such cruelty.
Allen grinned a little. "Not necessarily pushed, no. But it was deliberate. Bad thing is... I can't recognize them. Their voices aren't that distinctive, and, obviously, I can't see them." The blonde, shook his head. "But I'll take care of it." Just as soon as he could stand well, just as soon as he could wield his sword again. "And if I didn't," Allen shrugged slightly, wincing slightly as his shoulder pulled. Egh. He'd forgotten about that. "Gaddes and likely the rest of you would, too."
"I can tear their arms out for you, boss." said Kio angrily, "The moment I find out who those bastards are . . ."
"Just calm down a bit." Allen held up a hand lightly, shaking his head. "If what I'm planning doesn't work out, then we won't have much of a choice otherwise." Of course... he 'failed' to mention just what he was planning... to Gaddes or anyone else. Likely, they wouldn't approve of it. But Allen had to fend for himself sometimes.
The word 'plan' made both their ears perk up. Riden asked, "So what's your plan for those scumbags, boss?"
Allen grinned a little. Well, they asked, after all... "I'm going to give them a chance to take care of their frustrations. Of course, that'll have to wait until I can fight." He didn't specify if it'd be one on one... or to the death or anything at all.
"Alright! Sounds like another great show," said Riden happily, slamming his fist into his hand. "Your spars are always the best. And I'd seen other commanders. But now that you're blind, it's like it's even better . . . 'cause you can't see and you still kick their asses!"
Allen laughed a little, shaking his head. "We'll see how this one works out, eh? I'll be sure to make a show out of it for you guys."
Celena had laid down onto Gaddes' bed after her brother was led away. She couldn't understand why Allen didn't kiss her, or touch her - She loved him, wanted to soothe him, and he pulled away from her like she was some disgusting beast. It just didn't make sense to her above the hurricane of her emotions. She couldn't cry anymore for him, though. So she just lay on the bed, plate of untouched food on the little bedside table.
She could hear Gaddes was near her, never moving from her side - loyal to her just as he was loyal to her brother. She could hear him sigh softly, before mirroring it with one of her own - albeit a bit more shaky. "I don't understand," she admitted.
Of course she didn't understand. Allen had told her nothing, he'd wanted to keep the past night's occurrences a secret from her. For her own good, of course, but Allen was sure it hardly looked like that. He had, after all, crawled to Gaddes' side for aid, he had not quite shied away from the other man's touch. Allen had confided in Gaddes when he would not confide in her.
"He must think me a horrid thing," she said sadly, "Such an ugly little pest that doesn't deserve his embrace. Not after what happened - not after how it happen to . . . Oh, Gaddes! How . . . how could it happen? To my brother . . . my brother . . . my knight and protector?"
Allen had never claimed to be the strongest man, nor did he think he'd ever reach it. He was not untouchable. He'd thought it before, but these occurrences stressed that. He was a man as much as any other.
Allen had fallen from his grace more than once and each time he'd stood back up. But what people didn't see was it wasn't his strength... but the strength of those around him. Gaddes, Riden... all of those loyal to him, his sister. They were all the sources of his strength.
Allen sighed softly, lying on his back in the dark... of course, to him, it was always dark, now. One arm tucked behind his head, his eyes closed. He wasn't asleep, no... but he was resting, thinking. Tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow he'd be fine enough. Maybe tomorrow he could take care of the bastards that got him.
The next morning was cold, signifying the return of winter to the northern lands of Asturia. The clouds above were thick and gray - promising snow later that night. The wind actually started picking up, and woolen tunics were required to keep the troops from freezing in the biting frost. Celena woke up shivering. She hadn't even eaten the night before. Gaddes was already gone, probably having duties to attend to.
She got up, still dressed in yesterday's clothes, and went quickly to Riden and Kio's quarters, knocking.
"Green and black, gods, would it be too hard to pick them out?" came the murmured reply. Or the only sound from the room besides the shuffle of movement.
Celena recognized her brother's voice and felt safe opening the door - half-wondering if she would catch a glimpse of him . . . well, you know. "Allen?" she said tentatively.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his hair--for once--drawn loosely back, tugging on his boots and tucking the legs of his pants into the tops of them. The poets shirt was loose and flowing, fittingly foppish but still daringly swashbuckling. His sword was once more at his side, as well. The blonde turned his head towards her, arching a brow. "Mm...?"
"Allen," she said again, closing the door behind her and pressing herself against the wall, "Are you better this morning?"
Allen stood, shrugging slightly and, finally, not wincing. He tugged a green sash about his waist, tying it like it was second-nature. He didn't need his sight to make sure he looked fine enough. It was odd, at first, to feel his hair pulled out of the way, but he'd have to, just to get through all this.
"Better, yes." Anxious. Finally ready, Allen slipped out of the room and turned down a familiar hall, leaving the cane behind for now. He wouldn't need it in a fight. "Come on, take me to Gaddes, would you?"
She was wary to touch him after the day before. Her hand slowly moved through the air to take his hand, but just after that contact, she couldn't fight her urge to hug him. The man was 6'4" easy, so her arms naturally fit around his middle. Just as quickly as she did it, though, she moved away and led him down the halls outside.
"Gaddes is in front of his troop right now," she said, though she was perfectly aware that Allen could probably here the soldier barking orders to those under his command. "Maybe 40 steps away."
Allen strode out rather proudly, sure there were no stairs there before him, chin held high. He'd convinced Riden to cover up the bruising with a little bit of makeup ("Why do you keep this around, boss!?"), the sash at his waist fluttering excitedly at the brisk pace he took outside. Lightly stepping out into the overcast light he could not see, he walked over to Gaddes, standing beside the taller man for a moment before ever so subtly nudging him.
The blonde's body thrummed with excitement. He'd take care of those soldiers today alright.
There were two troops going through exercises on the fields. One was being led by Gaddes, and the other was an new comer sergeant. Both of them called for attention, at which point the troops snapped into ridged posts in straight lines along the courtyard.
"Commander on the field!" they barked, and both sergeants went up to Allen and saluted. "Sir!" Gaddes had an idea of what Allen had in mind - he was different today, very different from the cowering form on his bed from the day before. Today he had a look of revenge on his face, masked by harsh confidence and determination.
"Gaddes, are all the men gathered?" Allen arched a brow a little, once again with that commanding air about him, though he rather did look the part of the fop.
Celena tactfully stepped away from her brother, back on the steps before his castle.
Gaddes gave a robust, "Yes, sir!"
Allen nodded, resting a gloved hand on the hilt of his sword. "Very well, then. I haven't had much time to properly introduce myself to those new faces within this fort, so here I am. Knight Caeli, Allen Schezar." The blonde's voice did not tremble, his stance steady and at ease. As he had been far before all of this.
"One thing all... all of you will learn is that we don't tolerate anything past the usual, accepted rowdiness. We were all shoved out here for a variety of reasons that most don't wish to talk about, but even still. This is a military establishment and I will have discipline here."
"One of the first pieces of discipline is the respect of your commander. And if not true respect, then relenting to his or her orders... because quite simply he or she has control over what happens in your lives, determines the correct course of punishment for those paths we'd all rather not trod. But... I am a lenient man." The lithe frame took on a challenging, harder edge, demanding his respect. "And I am more than willing to hear the complaints of my men. After all, how would I earn such respect without it?"
"And thus, I propose this to you. I give you the chance now to step forward and take out your frustrations, if you will. Force me to prove to you that I am, even with my lack of years and my blindness, still your commanding officer. I will earn your respect, just as I did these other men.
If you find troubles with me, then step forward now. My leniency will not last past this morning."
The chill wind was, for a very long minute, the only sound that was made in that court yard. Not a man moved, save for looking at each other with confused expressions. There was a slight clinking in their armor, the sheaths of their swords clacking ever so slight against the blades they carried. Even after that long minute, no one spoke for another two until the sergeant of the second troop finally stepped forward.
"No one here seems to question your authority, Commander Schezar," he said, his western Asturian accent showing through. "Nuthin' else to do here then, sir?"
"We will wait. There are always those who are not content with how things might be going." Allen shook his head slightly. The silence began to grate at him, but he stood strong and still, waiting. He would wait them out. He had to.
Finally, one of the men under the new sergeant's troop spoke up, "I will challenge the captain!"
"Very well. That is one. Are there more?" Allen's hand had not moved from the sword hilt at his waist, waiting. There had been at least two involved.
A few more moments, and no one else came forward. The man who'd spoken briefly weaved his way through the ranks and stepped up to his commander. A look of disgust finally came across the sergeant's expression, showing through in his voice.
"If no one else steps up, then I will come forward and challenge the whelp." he said.
Allen simply smiled a bit too kindly and set his feet slightly apart. He drew his rapier, inclining his head. "Very well. Right then, both of you, come on." The blonde let the tip of his sword point at the ground, as he had done before. This is for you, Balgus... I can only hope you're proud of the way I've turned out.
He'd promised Riden a show... and he'd give them a show.
Then more boot steps could be heard, running through the ranks and meeting up with their sergeant. At least three pairs of boots stepping hard onto the cold, dusty ground.
"We'll not let the sergeant fight without us!" said one of them.
"We shouldn't have to serve under a fop." said another.
"Your blindness insults us!" said the last.
"There, you see - oh, no you don't, do you? But me troop speaks out plainly. We shouldn't have to suffer the command of the handicapped. It's an insult to the crown and to us." said the sergeant. Gaddes started getting nervous, as did the crew of the Crusade. Most of them were gasping, the rest of the troops murmuring amongst themselves. Mostly questions of, "What's going on? . . . is this even right? . . . I feel bad for the commander. . . ."
"Then let us be done with it. As I said, I demand discipline within my ranks. And whether or not you like it, you are still within my ranks." He'd fought off ravenous mobs before. The insults seemed to slide right off him, his being visibly unaffected. "Until, of course," and there was that small, challenging grin, no longer a shadow of their old commander, taking incredible risks, "I fall dead."
"Oh, this will be fun. But we wouldn't want to rid the fort of such a pretty thing." sneered the commander. Celena's cry pierced right through the winter's chill.
"No! Allen, you'll be killed!" she yelled.
"Boss! Are you sure that's a good idea?" said Gaddes from next to him.
Allen held up a hand. "If I back down from this, I'll never have their respect. Both of you, all of you," he spoke, of course, to his old soldiers, those he'd trusted his life with hundreds of times before, "keep out of it."
The blonde crouched low, sword rapier held just slightly out from his side. That's why he'd tied back his hair that morning, to keep it out of the way.
One of the new sergeants followers decided to attack first, blade low, slicing through the very wind. His foot steps were heavy as they ran forward, the sword singing through the air, about to come down on Allen's right side.
Always light on his feet, Allen rolled to the side and lurched forward a little, bringing the blade up to clash against the other man's, the unoccupied hand crossed over his stomach, resting at his hip.
A look of surprise came over the soldiers face, and to him, that seemed enough for him. He stopped suddenly, moving aside and sheathing his sword.
"What are you doing?" demanded the corrupt sergeant. But the soldier answered calmly.
"This man is worthy of my respect. I will not fight him."
"Are ye stupid, lad? You barely touched his blade with your own --" but the other soldier simply walked back into the awaiting ranks, who were watching the scene with an almost morbid fascination. It seemed that it didn't take much for the other men that had stood by the sergeant to rethink their complaints. The sergeant grabbed the arm of the last one walking away.
"Doesn't he insult you?!" screamed the sergeant - there always seemed to be at least one corrupt soldier in ever troop. The soldier reeled on him, taking no heed to be respectful to his superior officer. As far as he was concerned, the sergeant got himself into this mess.
"Sir, he honors us. To avoid a formidable attack like that, and blind, it is a wonder that such skill and pride has not put you in awe. Respectfully," he finished, wrenching his arm away and walking back to take his place among the troops.
Allen stood up, straightening again, inclining his head to those who had relented. Then he turned his sightless gaze to the sergeant, arching a brow, rather aristocratic about it the entire time. "Well then, how shall we do this? I'm sure you still find my command rather disgusting. So... how will you be satisfied with it? Or shall I have to kill you here and appoint another sergeant?"
"You cannot kill me," snarled the sergeant, "I'll not have a blind fool outrank and best me. It's a shame to be having to lose something so fine as that pretty pink skin." He charged, without any warning, no growl to give away his start, nor a cry torn from his throat. He simply ran, blade at the ready and arched behind him wildly, the tip aimed mercilessly towards Allen's heart.
Allen stayed still until he was near... he seemed as if he'd just let the man skewer him right there. But he slid rather gracefully to his right, a quiet, but sharp turn on his heel as he brought the sword rapier up and a quick, snapping movement and felt it dig into the flesh of the man's underarm.
Allen hadn't been kidding... he wasn't going to take this shit anymore. He yanked the blade up roughly, bracing the hilt with both hands as the impossibly sharp blade careened through flesh and bone, severing the limb. Allen skipped back, always light on his feet, and grinned.
"One for one, I'd say. Who's the cripple now, eh, sergeant? Should I take off the other one so we'll be even?"
The corrupt sergeant let out a shrill cry of pain, searing white hot agony pouring through him and rendering him to the ground. His body convulsed from the pain, his sword hand having dropped the blade and was now holding onto his wonder with a steel grip - which only made it bleed worse. Celena watching with horror - she never remembered seeing so much bloody, and she couldn't help but let out a gasp.
Gaddes winced as the man kicked around dirt with his spasms, smearing his clothes with his own blood and watching the sergeants stump pour out the life from his evil, corrupted being. No one spoke as they watched, hardly even a gasp. The wind cried through the courtyard like banshees, blowing the soldier's hair in their faces. No one spoke - and no one helped the bloodied sergeant.
There was no healer, yet no one bothered to move for the sake of the man, and as he slowly died, pale and full of rage, not one saluted him to his death. Finally, the body stilled - the corpse drenched in crimson and the severed arm not far from the body.
Allen was silent, carefully wiping the blood from his pristine blade, never minding the smatters of blood that had stained the cotton white of his shirt. Even if he was young, and pretty for a soldier, with the wind streaming through his hair, his stance set hard and confident, gloved hand resting on the hilt of his sword, he did seem the part very much so, a commanding presence hanging about him. When the sergeant grew still, Allen crouched down beside his body and murmured a soft prayer to his departing soul. That man had committed great evils unto the young man, but Allen would not disrespect him so, as to not send his soul on the way with a fair enough blessing.
The blonde stood, then turned his head towards where he knew Gaddes stood. The blonde reached up and wiped away the streak of blood from a pale cheek, none of it his own, of course. "Gaddes, be sure to have him buried among the others that have fallen. He might have been a distasteful fellow, but he was one of my soldiers nonetheless."
With that, he turned back to the other soldiers, inclining his head slightly. "A pity that it had to end up this way, but I hope I can proudly say that I have your respect... because I would be honored to have it."
It was silent for a while, men looking at each other, all of them having witnessed the death of their sergeant by a simple swing of Allen's precise blade. They were awed into being speechless. Finally, after much internal argument, Kalban spoke up from the deceased sergeant's regiment.
"You have my respect, Sir Schezar!" he cried, saluting. The quick snap of heels and fists thumping on hundreds of strong chests told Allen that all the soldiers in the courtyard followed suit. All of them were saluting him, whether they were intimidated to cross him or just amazed the blind man was still alive, no one could say.
Celena sat on the steps, feeling exhausted just from watching the show. The crew of the Crusade were also saluting. Not one person in the dust filled winter wind would have thought to cross Allen with how proud he looked - and not one person ever questioned his authority.
Allen inclined his head slightly, a soft smile on his lips. He, in return saluted them. "Now... if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to change clothes. These are terribly bloody." True to himself, of course.
"Gaddes, make sure the rum isn't watered down and hand a bit out tonight over dinner, mm?" Allen waved over his shoulder at him. Well, at least that was done with. Slipping quietly inside, he navigated his way to his room, tugging on the clothes he'd had Riden pick out that morning so he could change into them afterwards. He expected to get a little messy.
Celena was left on the front steps, her brother walking passed - she could hardly take her eyes away from the bloody mess he'd made of the horrible man in the dust. Finally tearing her eyes away, she stumbled down the halls and towards his room, but there stopped. Would this have scarred him even more? What if he was so distant from her now that he would be inclined to send her away? Back home to Palas to live in the manor . . . by herself, with a few maids to tend to her.
Her hand was placed gently on the door, palm flat, and feeling the wood. She argued mentally with herself whether she would be received well.
Inside, he quickly changed clothes--though they were still in the same foppish, comfortable fashion of his, tugging his hair out of the ponytail, sighing softly as it fell loose, streaming locks of gold against his back. In the basin, he washed his hands of the blood that had seeped through his gloves, the soft sounds of his boot heels ringing out in the general quiet.
She overruled knocking, and simply opened his door, shuffling inside quickly before burying herself underneath the covers of his bed. She knew she didn't want to be around any of those soldiers - for some reason, the blood had scared her and all of them watching with morbid fascination made her uncomfortable. She didn't like the looks on their faces. She also just wanted to be in Allen's bed, knowing that his pillows smell like him and his rosewater cologne.
If she couldn't have her brother, the next best thing was surrounding herself with his scents. And if anything, maybe she wouldn't have to say anything to get his attention if she just showed up in his room.
Allen turned his head slightly towards her. "You shouldn't have had to see that, you know. I should have made it out there myself without bringing you into it. So... I'm sorry for that. It's not something a lady should have to see at all."
"I'm tired of being a lady. I'm not a lady, Allen. Please stop calling me that." she said, turning to face him on her side. "Much in the same way that you might still fancy yourself a gentlemen. But you are not. You're like me." Her face buried into the pillow. "We're just fooling ourselves."
Allen stiffened slightly, looking rather, deeply offended. "I still pride myself a gentleman, even if you do not." It was almost angry, the words he spoke and the way he spoke them. With that, he turned, stalking out of the room irritably.
Well, that had just ruined the lightness of the day.