"What's this sensation?"

by Shelly Webster

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am nothing but a slave to my muses and to school. And the internet. Ok, maybe I should just don a sign that says slave to everything...but it could be worse. I could be slave to everyone or something...

A/N: Sorry if my characters have odd mood-swings. I'm hoping that since Dilandau is rather unpredictable it works if it happens. It comes from me having mood-swings and from writing only a few paragraphs at a time... And now the moment my muses have been waiting for! To the point where it was written out before some parts before it were... But first...

Shouts-outs:

InfamousLordDilandau: You know my muses – they want updates more than I do, it seems like (and I like updates because I know how it is to be a reader waiting for one...). You stroke my ego so much...sometimes I wonder if I'm blind because you seem to see so much talent in me.

LadyThompson: Gah! You ask much...I don't know that I'll improve. And now I'm concerned that I won't... I'll write, and what is written is written, pretty much. My thoughts on Dilandau and fighting are that fighting is fighting. He likes it, but he figures he can have a fight whenever he wants, pretty much.

Sakura Shinguji-Albatou: Do I have another loyal reader/reviewer then? I saw that you reviewed my other story too...if not, ok, glad you reviewed though. And if you are one, whoopee! I had no idea that this story was cute...well, ok, a little, but I thought most of it was not in the first chapter. You're right, I knew headdress was not much better, but I wasn't thinking enough to mark it so I'd remember to find something better. Now I have a thesaurus on my computer, though, so that should make this more convenient in the future. Diadem was the word I had in mind...

Threshie: I hope you're not disappointed with the pace of this...the muses made me do it! run away! Think about it though, if someone was in your head, would you be upset? I mean, I don't like knowing me always, so why would I want someone close enough to possibly know me that well? Or to never be alone? I love being alone sometimes. I'm a C/D sap though, even when it's completely OOC.

Chapter 2

Taking Prisoners

That night Dilandau went to bed willingly. He didn't even finish drinking his usual nighttime bottle of wine beforehand. He tried to tell himself that it was only because he was so exhausted, but he knew it was more because he was curious what his next meeting with her would be like. Would things pick up where they left off? Did he even want them to? She often said she always hated how he left with no warning when others woke him. Maybe she would yell at him for that again...

He had thought about her actions and words much that day, while practicing drills and directing his soldiers on how to improve their fighting abilities. He contemplated their past – the times she smiled and the times she yelled; her eyes shining with falling tears or flashing in anger; how he told her about the Dragon Slayers and she shared of her family.

He was shocked to realize they had known each other a long time. He never thought about time relating to her other than in terms of minutes and hours delaying meeting with her or being stuck with her. He never thought of her as a part of his life, but she was.

She confused him so much. She wasn't a soldier and was so unlike his Dragon Slayers or any other personnel on the Vione. But she wasn't as weak as he told her she was. She just had a different kind of strength. He had to be stronger than her though, had to make sure that she believed he was the stronger entity. It was his job – necessary for his purpose.

Now that he wanted sleep, it was eluding him. He fidgeted as he lay, tapping his toes on the mattress while he lay awake. He curled on one side, then the other, then tried laying flat on his back. Finally, his unlikely energy wore away enough that he drifted into her zone.

She stood there, several paces further away than when he left. She wasn't facing him until after he stood there a moment. She turned, a distant look in her eyes until she focused on him. For the first time, he wondered just what it was that she did when he was awake and she really was all alone.

Before she could begin berating him for some slight or other, he asked her this.

She stood there, frozen with shock. He never addressed her first, even with harsh words after a bad day. He always ignored her as long as he could, or at least gave her that impression.

"Well?" He was getting impatient for her answer.

She finally thought about the question instead of the fact that he had asked something of her. He wasn't picking a fight, so she wouldn't either. Not yet, anyway. "I tell myself little stories. I wonder about the people I knew before..." She trailed off.

He had an answer from Celena, but it didn't make him happy. Her life held nothing that his did, none of the things he found pleasure and satisfaction in. "I know that you think about my stunning good looks all the time. No need to be ashamed." he smirked, not knowing what was a proper answer, an answer that could comfort her. He didn't even have ideas for what else she could do. It was easier to just let things return to their usual state of fighting and high emotions from her. A passionately angry reaction was better than her crying or something. What if there was something worse than crying?

His words had the desired effect, turning her away from the more intimate thoughts of her life that he had caused in her.

She turned on him, bothered that he so easily went from his friendly curiosity to a smart remark, though not so shocked that he was his usual self again.

"Even if I did think about you, I'd think more about how unkind and cruel you are than about whether or not you're attractive. And in case you're wondering, you're the least attractive man I've ever seen!"

Dilandau was hurt, and that was even without recalling how few men she had seen. "Least attractive?" he shrieked, "Least attractive! Are you blind? I'm the fucking Adonis of Zaibach and all of Gaia. No one is more handsome than I am. No one!"

"My brother is probably much more handsome than you by now! And even if he's not, he's much nicer, I'm sure. Attraction is more than good looks, you know. And your personality cancels anything gained by your looks, and more."

Dilandau was jealous. She hates me. She thinks I'm the most horrid person ever. I probably am... I mean, she said... A smirk stretched across his face as realization dawned. "You just admitted that I'm good looking." The smirk widened.

A look of horror crossed Celena's face at his words. "No I didn't. I said nothing of the sort. Now leave me alone!"

He drew nearer to her instead. "Why should I?" he purred.

She backed away from him, uneasy about the new side of him currently displayed.

"B-because that's what you always want to do." She still backed away and he still strode towards her, his pace matching hers deliberately and smoothly.

"Maybe not always," he proposed.

"Anyhow, I wouldn't know if you are good looking or not. If you'd let me, I could find out, though; make a few comparisons." She cocked an eyebrow, daring him to let her have her way as she shifted the conversation to its typical realm.

"No."

Dilandau preferred a simple answer this time. He wasn't angry at the moment, so he had nothing to get in the way of what he judged right to say to her.

"You are so infuriating! All I ever ask is one thing, and yet not once have you let me have it. Not once! Could you even be any more selfish and pigheaded?"

Now he was getting angry. Selfish? Pigheaded? He did this for his men more than for himself. His soldiers needed a military leader, not a cheerleader. And at least he wasn't wishy-washy. Would she rather he teased her by saying he'd let her out then not allowing it? She never bothered to understand anything he ever did...

"And you're not selfish or pigheaded?" He countered with her accusations.

She stumbled, not answering immediately, then recovered her battle-readiness. "Well, I'm certainly not you or anything like you."

"You do lack the perfection. And many of my skills."

"Like your arrogance? I miss that so much in my own life." He never liked her sarcasm.

"Are you doubting me? You haven't seen me in battle, so don't judge so fast." His pursuit of her was more of an angry stalk now. He would show her...someday, somehow. He might be nobody to her now, but that didn't mean he had no abilities.

"I don't need to see you in battle. No one can be as skilled as you claim to be."

She was nearing the wall, but hadn't noticed yet. When she did, it would be too late to turn and get away.

"I am more skilled than you could ever understand!"

"Oh really? Sometimes I wonder if you even know how to hold a sword."

She was inches from the wall and he was within arm's reach. He put a hand on either side of her shoulders. "I may not be able to prove to you that I can handle a damn sword, but even you'll have to admit that I'm capable of taking prisoners."

She tried to duck under his arms, but he anticipated her moves and she stayed enclosed by his limbs.

She shrugged in defeat. His smirk widened. As it did so, she opened her mouth once more. "It's not so special to capture someone who is already your prisoner."

He scowled. She did this on purpose – letting him think he had won.

"Brave words for someone as closely confined as yourself." He had to think, but he couldn't. Right now he couldn't focus anywhere near as well as he usually could. This was all her fault... He scowled again, taking a step closer, now only a few centimeters from touching her.

He could hear her breathing, heavy and panicked, though her face did not show much alarm. He could feel the warmth of her so near to him, like her blood was boiling magma. Her hands were balled into fists held close to her sides.

She spoke at last.

"This from the king of the cowards! I'm not a soldier, it's not my job to be brave."

He growled faintly. "So, I'm the king of cowards then. Few would call me a coward. At least I'm royalty. You, on the other hand, are rude enough to be only the lowest of slaves."

Her tongue held a sassy remark, as usual. "Better to be the lowest of slaves than to bow before you. You do have the tiara to be royalty, but I bet you're a king without a–"

He leaned in, cutting off the words from her offending lips with his own in a rough, punishing kiss. Seemingly of their own accord, his arms moved from trapped her against the wall to holding her shoulders, pulling her against him.

After a shocked, intense moment, she struggled away from his mouth.

"What the hell was that about? How dare you!"

"Perhaps I'm not so cowardly after all!" His mouth said these words, but his thoughts nowhere near echoed them. Inside, he was even more panicked than she was. Why did I do that? I have got to get away...get my thoughts together. Keep it cool. Don't let her see that you want to run. With that, his arms dropped back to his sides and he strutted a few steps away from her.

She was angry; probably confused too. "You had no right to do that!"

"You wouldn't stop arguing." He gave the only explanation that came to mind. It was better than admitting that he wasn't sure how that had just happened.

"Rrrrrrr! Just leave me alone!"

Normally he would put up a fight, but as this was what he wanted, he didn't bother this time. "Whatever. But if you're so upset, what took you so long to pull away?" He threw that remark at her over his shoulder. It was a question he wondered about the answer to, but he couldn't find one, so instead he tried to settle down to get some rest as long as he was asleep. The last real thoughts he had were these: It's a diadem, not a tiara... What was I doing tonight?