Darkness in the Twilight
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
By Psycho Ferret and LunarCrystal
A Sword and A Lie
The soldiers of the fort all knew to look after Allen's princess. They were like her family, brothers - all 300 of them. There wasn't a single person there who didn't know who she was, and why a little blind girl would be wandering about the halls of a castle in the middle of nowhere. She'd lived there for five years, after all.
She loved to wander about the castle, and just recently got the fancy in her head about being a knight and playing swords. She heard them clash, and the gasps and vigorous shouting of the men - though she never really understood what a sword actually was. She never saw one, and she was certainly never allowed to touch one - but she also never thought to ask.
Her second favorite thing to do was go up and down steps. Because she loved the way the spiraling tower of staircases echoed when she yelled from the bottom. She was climbing down some steps, to do exactly that, to hear her echo. She yelled a couple of time, aiming her voice upward, and was satisfied with the responses she got as her voice bounced off the stone. A few moments of that, however, and she grew bored.
There was a hallway next to her and in front of her. She'd been around here before, but never really through the doors, because her father always said she wasn't allowed to go through the doors. Well, her father let her do whatever he want, and he wouldn't yell at her if she decided to go through a silly door.
So she walked the length of one hall, driven by her curiosity, her hand trailing the wall. Her fingers came across a doorframe that stuck out for her to feel. She grinned, feeling for the door knob excitedly and quickly going inside.
~
Allen was outside with one of the newer soldiers to have been stationed there. He'd noticed a bit of trouble with some of the ways he handled the sword and he'd decided to take care of that. Ethan sat on the railing upstairs, watching quietly. It really was neat to watch, he had to admit... though it was more fun when Chris was there, of course. Then, for one, Ethan had a reason for staring at his brother.
Here, the blonde always seemed so upbeat, so relaxed among these people... and Ethan could see why. They were soldiers, but not the stone-faced, muscular marines he was used to. These were normal guys, really, pulled into the army in one way or another, all fighting to save the country. And all of them seemed to respect Allen immensely. Ethan... was happy for Allen. He'd gotten home, he still had his daughter and his friends. He deserved it after what he'd gone thought... and he, Nikki and Chris didn't know the half of what he'd actually been through.
Angelina stumbled slightly out of the main entrance of the castle, as she was busy sniffling and crying. The reason was plain enough to see, her little hand dripping with blood. She was being very brave about it, actually - only tears falling and no sobs wracked her lungs. The blood stained the pretty little pink dress that Allen had been so hard pressed to put her in that day, as she was sometimes stubborn about such things.
One hand out stretched since her ropes ended, she walked forward until she knew where the steps would be, and promptly sat down to nurse her hand.
"Where is father?" She cried, sniffing and using her good hand to wipe at her nose.
One of the soldiers caught sight of her, dashing out into the open area, looking around for Allen. It didn't take long to spot the blonde among the other man, and he padded over to him, explaining what he saw. Everyone knew the princess and everyone knew how protective Allen was of her. He didn't even need to say anything before the man he was sparring with told him to go, and the knight turned on his heel, hurrying in the direction the other had told him to head in.
He paused when he saw her, then knelt down beside her, stroking her hair and gently taking her hand in his. "What happened, princess?" he asked worriedly as he picked her up and started off towards the apothecary.
"I don't know what it was, but something bit me." she sniffled, hold the offending hand carefully. Her head pressed against his as he carried her, her little lips finding his cheek as she tried to comfort herself with giving him kisses there. Allen frowned slightly. Biting. Who would know what might have gotten into the fort and bitten her.
"Well, we'll get you taken care of, okay?" Allen quickened his pace slightly. He hadn't fully inspected the wound in her hand. Otherwise he might have figured out it was a sword that had done it. But he was moreso worried about getting her taken care of, of course.
Melzin the healer was thankfully still with them, and he examined the girl's hand closely as she sat on his table. He was very good at cleaning the wound without causing her pain, tsking her every time she'd let out a sniffle and reassuring her that it was just a scratch and only seemed worse than it was. Which was true for the most part.
"Something scratched her up good on her little palm, that's for sure." said the healer, wrapping up the hand in bandages.
Angelina moaned in frustration. "It bit - it didn't scratch."
"Any idea of what it might have been?" Allen cocked his head to the side slightly, looking at the man that had been there to care for him when he'd needed it. He stroked her hair softly, brushing a kiss against her forehead. "It's okay, princess, he'll be sure to take care of you."
"Any number of things," shrugged the healer, "But none of them living creatures."
Allen pursed his lips slightly, silent, then chuckled a bit. Wow. He felt like an idiot...
"Well, considering the area she was in... princess, did you go in any of the doors?" He continued to softly stroke her hair, looking at the girl fondly. His worries eased slightly at the apothecary's assurance.
"No," she lied, and quite well for a five year old. Her head shook, and her face was the same innocent one she knew how to do to get what she wanted.
"Well... where did you go, princess?" Allen arched a brow slightly. "Where did it happen?"
Oh, she hadn't thought he would ask her again. . . She fumbled for an answer, her lips pursing and she hummed for a really long time, "Um . . . I don't know." she finally said.
Allen slowly arched a brow, thinking over the things that were around there. She surely wouldn't go into the armory, he'd made sure she knew that set of doors was by far off limits. The kitchens were too far away for her to have gotten herself hurt there...Allen pouted thoughtfully, nibbling on the inside of his bottom lip. It never crossed his mind to think that she'd lie about such a thing, of course.
"Can I get down now?" she asked impatiently, a heavy sigh escaping her.
The blonde arched a brow, tugging her off the table and setting her on her feet. "Just be careful, okay, princess?"
"Okay," she said, slowly following the wall of the apothecary to get to the door, before entering the hallway. She chose to go left and tore down the hall like a whirlwind. Melzin looked thoughtfully toward Allen.
"She's lyin to ye, lad." he said frankly, in that same fatherly tone he'd always been renown for.
Allen blinked a little, glancing over at the man. He was silent for a moment, then sighed softly. "The thought never crossed my mind. It makes sense, though." It was something children, and sometimes adults, too, did to get out of trouble. Allen rubbed the back of his neck lightly. The healer took a few careful steps toward the young knight, now a father, and put a hand on the man's shoulder - reassurance.
"Laddy, you dote on her far too much." he began softly, "I know ye miss the girl's mother, but she needs to grow up knowin' there are things out there that won't always tell her yes."
Allen looked at the older man, bowing his head slightly. "I just can't deny her anything. I know it's not good for her to get everything she wants. But I have such a time saying no to her. I think it's partially because of Celena and the fact that I'm her only parent left." And the fact that she was just too damn cute.
Melzin thought about his next words carefully, knowing the man's plight and trying to spare him some of the pain. When children are spoiled, they spoil badly sometimes. "If you do not deny her, one day she might end up hurting you - very badly. Because she will believe that it is not wrong."
Allen looked at the man curiously, appalled at the thought of it happening, but... Melzin hadn't steered him wrong before. He'd been there to help he and Celena both when they'd needed it, and through these past years, he had been there to aid him when he'd needed it.
Melzin took another breath, stepping away from the man to work on mixing some concoctions he had brewing over a small controlled fire. "The bite on her hand," he said simply, pouring liquid into a beaker, "It was a sharp object. A knife or a sword."
"The armory," he murmured softly, sighing. The blonde rubbed the back of his neck gently, bowing his head. She hadn't been out among the soldiers... they would have told him if anything had happened.
"I do have one question though," said the healer, stirring some sort of blue stuff before pouring it into a vile. "Exactly when do you plan to reprimand her for lying to you?"
"I don't know." Allen sighed, shaking his head a little. He really wasn't cut out for raising a child. "I don't even know what to do to reprimand her."
"Well, don't go over the top." was all the healer said, getting back to his work. Gaddes, being the ever watchful father figure to little Angelina, had heard what happened and assumed she would have still been in the apothecary. Somehow, though, he wasn't surprised to find that she was not. Although he did catch the end of their conversation.
He leaned in the doorframe, arms crossed with a smug expression on his face, "Little demon lied to you too, huh?"
Allen paused a little, turning to look over at him, grinning sheepishly. "And it never crossed my mind. I've told her over and over not to go into the armory and she got injured doing so." And then she hadn't told him when he asked.
Gaddes went to him, stiffly and with a reproachful look on his face. His lips were pursed into a fine line and his brow was furrowed – he was not pleased. "Do you know where I found her today? She was outside. By herself. She *sneaked* outside after I told her to stay indoors. And do you know how she got there? By going through the guymelef hanger. Do you know who showed her that door? You did, because she wanted to go outside where it was quiet. And guess what, she found it on her own."
Allen was silent, looking at him from behind clear lenses. "You're kidding me. You have got to be kidding me." Allen sighed heavily, shoulders slumping, running a hand through his long hair. "Argh... I can't do this..."
"Can't do what? Show a little backbone?" admonished his lover, one hand on his
hip and a frown on his face.
"No, no... I mean raising a child." Allen sighed, shaking his head slightly. "And you know I can hardly do that, either. I know I need to or she'll just keep getting into trouble, getting into something she can't get out of... but she talks about how she dreams of Celena and I can't help but feel for her not having a monther."
The sergeant let out a sigh, taking Allen's arm and quickly leading him out of the apothecary. It was a conversation that wasn't meant for others to hear. Once they were walking down the corridors, their duties for that day forgotten for the moment, Gaddes spoke again, "Allen, listen. You're a good father. I don't think anyone really just knows how to raise a kid, especially one with . . . a special need. But I think we just have to look passed all that, and realize that she *is* just a kid, and doesn't need to obe coddled all the time."
Allen listened silently to his friend, his head slightly bowed. Thoughtfully, he tucked his hair behind an ear, nudging his glasses up to the bridge of his nose. "I might be a good parent, Gaddes, but a man alone cannot possibly raise a child right. Look at the problems my family has... Gaddes, I'm scared that she'll turn out like Celena or myself. We're not normal."
"Who wants to be normal?" asked Gaddes truthfully, "I mean, hell, if you've ever seen my family, we're *definitely* not normal. I've got six brothers and 3 sisters, various ages, in one ranch. Sure, it doesn't compare to a noble family like yours - but my point is that there is no normal. You just do the best you can. That's what my mom did. And we turned out okay for it."
"She does." Allen waved a hand slightly, dismissing that after a moment. "I know I can't afford to be so self-conscience about it, but I don't really know the first thing about raising a child, much less reprimanding one."
Gaddes pulled back, laughing bitterly and full of scorn. "Five years and *now* he figures out he can't raise her. For gods sake, Allen! Get a hold of yourself."
Allen sighed, shaking his head slightly. "I need to, I know. It's just another obstacle in my life. Alright, alright... I'll reprimand her for it."
"Good," he sighed, clapping Allen on the shoulder, "I'm sure you'll be fine. I'll need to get back to my duties, but let me know how it works out, okay?" With that said, he left Allen in the hall alone.
Allen leaned against the wall for a bit, sighing softly. He really did need to take care of this problem. But he dreaded it... as he was sure most parents felt. But Gaddes and the others were right. This was for her protection as much as anything. With another sigh, the blonde pushed off of the wall, wandering around the fort, trying to find her, asking around for any sign of her.
~
Angelina, being ever curious like any little girl, loved to poke about her father's room. She'd known about the heavy oak chest that was set aside to one corner, and she'd tried to open it before when her father was off doing his duties, but she was never strong enough. She was proud, as she figured she must have grown stronger - and the lid of the chest lifted open.
Her hands plunged inside and immediately hit fabric, tightly packed and folded. Her fingers flew around the garments as she tried to determine that they were - lace and ribbon on one, her hands pulling at them, satin fabrics like her own dresses . . . they were dresses! She hugged one to
her and pulled it out. They were *heavy* dresses and used more fabric than she had ever felt on
one garment.
As the mound of fabric fell onto her, she hugged it closer, standing and hearing it drag across
the floor as she made her way to her right. The dress smelled so very nice, and the cool crisp
satin felt refreshing on her fair arms. One hand wrapped around the fabric, the other was outstretched and searching for obstructions. Near the window, the light just barely tickling her skin, she found the little lace covered table - she knew it was lace by the course feeling of the doily.
She grinned, her hand patting around the top of it and finding the little wire tray. On the
tray, she felt bottles - her fathers cologne and powders. Oh, how she loved her father's smell. Grabbing one of the little glass bottles, she slowly brought the top to her nose to smell the rosewater. She smiled, tipping the bottle - only a little - to put some of it on. She was thoroughly surprised when it didn't pour out the scent, but an abundance of liquid.
A long time of wandering led Allen back to his own rooms. He'd found her there a few times before...
The blonde pushed open the door with a soft sigh, slipping inside. The first hint that
something wrong as the overpowering scent of his cologne. Now normally he couldn't smell it that
much. Allen frowned slightly, then caught sight of the open chest and his heart wrenched. He never looked in there, the grief over it too close to his heart. One of the gowns was missing. Panic fluttered in his head as he glanced about, then caught sight of his daughter.
The gown's front was covered in the scented liquid. That much was obvious from the dark spots on the surface of the pristine cloth.
"Angelina," he murmured softly, shocked, "no..."
He'd told her many times to keep out of the chest, to leave the items within alone. Of course
... when did she ever seem to listen to him recently.
Angelina, caught like a rabbit in a trap, gasped and turned her head to her father's voice. The bottle dropped back onto the tray, nearly empty. "Father," she said, tugging the soiled dress along with her as she approached him, "The dress smells pretty now. Was it mother's?"
Allen stared at her as she approached, taking the dress from her and smoothing his hands over it. The blue one. One of the ones he'd bought for her so long ago. The blonde shuddered, the rustle of the cloth evident as the dress was clutched close to him. His throat tightened. It wasn't memories of her that choked him up as much as small reminders of her.
Sometimes the way Angelina would settle her hands on her hips and speak sternly to him in a
teasing manner, the dresses... roses.
"I told you before... I told you to leave the chest alone, Angelina..."
"But father," whimpered the little girl, playing with one of her silver ringlets, "I wanted to see what was in it. *You* never tell me so I thought I'd find out for myself." She finished with a triumphant nod.
"I told you to leave it alone and that means you do so. Do you understand? It shouldn't be opened and the things within shouldn't be played with. I can't believe you... I told you explicitly--just like the doors you passed through today--to leave them alone and you still went about it."
Angelina pouted. She didn't like her father's tone. Her little head bowed a little, and she held up her bandaged hand, as if that would give her the sympathy she was looking for. "But something bit me!" she argued, "And I wanted to see what was in the chest. I'm a princess. I can have anything I want!"
"Something 'bit' you because you went into a place I told you not to go into. I tell you these things for reasons. You cannot go opening that chest and playing with just anything that suits your fancy. You got hurt because you ignored what I had said."
She stomped her foot petulantly, yelling loudly and leaning forward in her vehemence, "But you *said*! You said I can have anything I want! You said! You said! You *said*!"
"And I said you cannot look into that chest, that you cannot go into certain places. Many of these things I say to protect you."
That's when she screamed. Her eyes screwed shut, her little fists straight down her sides and she screamed loud and clear. There was a point when her little silver curls and cherubic face would be becoming, but now she looked like a fair faced demonic doll as her shrill cry resounded through the rose scented air of Allen's chambers.
Allen winced a little at the piercing cry, looking at her, the dress clutched tightly to his chest. It hurt to see her so upset and he wanted to soothe it, to ease it away... but that would teach her nothing except that with enough pushing, she could get her father to do anything. The blonde knight was sure that cry could be heard for a ways down the hallway. "Stop. Just stop, Angelina. I'm not going to let this go. You've lied to me and blatantly ignored things I strictly told you to stay away from."
Her screaming made her dizzy, and so she let herself fall to the floor on her bottom. At that point, her voice was raw, and when she tried to scream again, it came out more like a choked sob. Her little hands went to her blind eyes, pressing little fists into them. "You said I could have anything. I'm the princess. You're my knight. I can have anything I want! It's not fair!"
"You can't have absolutely anything you want, Angelina." The dress was carefully lain aside, draped over the length of the bed. Allen looked at his daughter with a mix of hurt and determination. He had to ride this through. He had to make sure it started to get through to her.
"I hate you," she whimpered softly, rubbing her fist on her eyes before scrambling back onto her feet. She wasn't paying attention to where he'd moved, so she faced the other direction, sobbing and yelling out quite clearly, "I hate you! You're not my father! My father would give me anything because I'm his princess!"
Allen tensed, his eyes widening slightly. No matter how much he and Celena had bickered and fought, she'd never said such a thing. And he could only remember his own hatred of his father before he'd found out the truth. The knight stared at her, shocked, a distinct pain swelling in his narrow chest. Hate. It didn't register that the words were spoke in anger, in a heat of emotion... all that mattered was that she had spoken them and the mere sound of them tore at his soul. What if she really did hate him? What if she didn't want to be at his side anymore?
"Don't say that," he murmured softly, looking sadly at her, trembling a little.
Angelina could barely think, so distraught was she that this time he had denied her. Her father had never really done such a thing, never spoke to her so coldly. And whoever this man was, it couldn't possibly be her father . . . "I hate you!" she yelled again, sniffling loudly and turning to run for the door. Her shoulder glanced off of the doorframe and made her fall to her knees, skidding to a stop on the floor. She cried.
Allen shuddered as she screamed at him again, as she ran past him angrily. He turned slightly towards her as she passed by him, furrowing his brow, pained, as he started towards her where she'd fallen. "Angelina..."
She had given up trying to escape, and now only curled up on the floor, crying into her arms. Her sweet little voice was wracked with whimpers and sobs, her trembling little frame making her ribbons shake. Her ringlets were strewn about her head. She looked like a weeping angel, with only the floor as her comfort.
"I want my father . . ." she cried.
Allen crouched down beside her, lying a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I am your father, Angelina," he murmured softly, long hair draping over his shoulders as he leaned slightly towards her. He had done his damage, now it was time to heal her wounds.
Slowly, and with many sniffles from her button nose, she sat up, facing her father - her eyes always gazed upwards, but they were still the same sapphire color as her mother's. Little hands weakly searched the air, and she found his chest, thin and lean with muscle. Another sniffle, and she moved to lean into him. "I'm sorry, Father," she cried, "I only wanted to see the secrets in your chest. . . mother's dresses. . . . father, why did she leave us?"
"She... she was ill." Allen put his arms around her, hugging her gently. "It hurts me to think about her... that's... that's why I told you to stay away from the chest."
"Didn't she want to stay with us?" she sniffled, cuddling him there as they sat on the hardwood floors of the fort.
"She wanted to... but the gods wouldn't let her, Angelina. I wish... I wish you could have known her."
"Me too." she said wistfully.