"What's this sensation?"

by Shelly Webster

Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne or gain anything from writing this. Not even much pleasure. My muses turned evil and made me write this...though it is going better than I expected. Of course, they also say I need a plot that will go past the two chapters I now have planned...

A/N: My muses gave me a line and told me to write a fic for it. This is it. The line isn't even in this chapter, but they were so adamant that I am writing this anyhow. As long as they leave my best character to write for alone though, I will tolerate the change my muses have undergone. I do like this pairing, but I don't think the Dilandau that we see in the series is the type to fall in love. Special thanks to my D, for beta work on a story that has romance.

Summary: When he is awake, Dilandau Albatou is a powerful individual. But once he falls asleep, everything changes and he is forced to confront other sides of himself, and the confusion under it all. He learns that everyone can change. C/D.

Chapter 1

Tensions Rising

She was yelling. Again.

At least it wasn't crying this time. That was just uncomfortable...what is one supposed to do when another cries? He never knew, not that anyone else ever cried around him. Only her. Soldiers had learned not to cry. War leaves no room for tears. Yelling, on the other hand, he understood – yelling he could do. Better than her, as a rule. But with her he had little to yell about, so he gave her the chance to vent when he had nothing to say.

Dilandau tried his best to stay awake and avoid her, but sooner or later he always crashed to find her right before his eyes.

"...I don't see why you won't let me out! I was here first!"

It was always one of two ideas fueling her emotional outbursts: how she was always left all alone, or how he never let her surface instead of him. When they were younger, she was bothered more by being alone, but in more recent years she fought primarily to convince him to free her. Maybe she had realized that she wouldn't have to be so alone if she were free, he had speculated, when calm enough to think clearly about the situation with her. But he wasn't about to let her steal away his life.

Even though he was there on a regular basis, apparently he didn't count as somebody to be around. He wasn't a person to her – just a nuisance roadblock to her use of her body. Was he a person to anyone? That didn't matter. Not right now... He had to try to get her off his back again.

"Maybe because all you ever do is yell and cry. You're useless!" He was yelling, but she always plowed right over this argument from him.

"Haven't I suffered enough? You don't even talk with me most of the time...It's so lonely here. You have friends. I don't! Just once I'd like some time away from here!"

This emotions thing was getting old. Some nights she would shut up and let him get some rest, maybe even talk a little about trivial matters, such as how he dressed – causing growls by teasing him about the "tiara" – it's called a headdress – but he could tell that this was not going to be one of those more calm and peaceful occasions.

He just let her rant most of the time, wearing herself down. Only when she really got to him or he was bored would he answer her at all, though she managed that at least once every time he slept. But then, sometimes it was enjoyable to make her think or push her buttons. Almost like a little game, to test who knew the wrong thing to say and when to say it.

"I have my men. They need me. Out there things aren't what you think they are. Don't assume you're the only one who is ever alone. I don't think you could handle being out there." He was taunting her at this point. He had veered too near his own thoughts and...feelings. An opening he could never let her find. Not that he had feelings, of course, he reassured himself. He couldn't have them. "You're too weak."

Violence never helped against her, so he tried other methods when he had any self-control. He couldn't count how many times he had slapped her, not that he cared to. Various Dragon Slayers had unknowingly taken blows for her more than a few times after he woke feeling so dissatisfied.

"Too weak for what? I put up with you all the time. Can't be so weak if I have to do that!" She was trying to anger him, but she wasn't aiming for the right thoughts yet. She rarely did right away. It was like she felt it would take away her fun if she brought things to a point too quickly. He thought this rather pointless. Winning is what matters, not drawing it out and risking it all.

He was silent. He stalked around, wishing he would just wake up and be done with her until the next time sleep stole his mind from him, but he knew he was tired enough that he would sleep for many hours unless someone else woke him, which was more likely. The silent treatment always aggravated her, especially as she had no other distraction but his presence.

"Please! I can't do this! You can't make me anymore. I will go!" She slapped him.

He pulled away, growling. "How dare you slap me! I am Lord Dilandau Albatou –"

"Commander of the Dragon Slayers, I know." She interrupted.

"That's right. But do you remember just what that means?" He took control of the conversation again. "Few cross me. Those that do never have very long to regret it." He pulled himself to his full height, standing over her in what most found a threatening manner.

Celena's eyes flashed with the intensity of her feelings, so strong that he couldn't read them even if he knew what they meant to other people. "And am I to be just like them?" She laughed bitterly. "You won't let me be like others; no one will. If they couldn't kill me, there's no way you can either."

She knew just what buttons to push. He knew that "they" meant the madoushi. Sorcerers, in their long cloaks and with their ghastly faces. They seemed inhuman, but they were real enough. Far too real... She didn't like them either, clearly, but she wasn't afraid of them. Not like he was.

That was another concept Dilandau struggled with every time he faced her and her spiteful words. He wasn't supposed to be afraid. It made him weak – a failure. He hid it, even from himself, most of the time. But she never let him forget it for long.

Sometimes he contemplated the knowledge he lacked. When he was more patient, he would try to learn it, try to understand what emotions were about and how people think, but to no avail. Patience wasn't something he found easily in the first place. He was told the feelings he struggled to understand are instinct – that they come naturally to everyone. He really was no one in that case...but at least he had a purpose. Not everyone did, he could see. Or they would forget what the purpose was.

Before Dilandau could react to her words about the only beings he never wished to meet, he was shook awake by the ever-responsible Gatti. "We are scheduled to practice now, sir."

Dilandau yelled at him, never a morning person, even though he rarely liked sleeping. "Then have the Dragon Slayers go and ready themselves to train. You should know your job by now!"

Gatti left hurriedly, Dilandau taking a few moments for himself before he would join his men. Now that he was awake, Dilandau was wondering for once what would have happened if he were still asleep and talking to the girl hidden in his head. He reflected on his most recent experience with Celena, and her behavior in that interaction. He laughed quietly. I think I must be rubbing off on her now. He stroked his cheek where she had slapped him. She never tried that before...but she does have a good arm.