A/N: Yeah, yeah, yeah, new story, yell at me, because I don't care! (Okay, so what if I do?!) My muse was like 'Eh, no Last Stop or anything so hey, let's write a new one!' Oi, I was trying to put off this idea until I finished another story . . . But have I been known to keep promises ? (If you don't know the answer, just a heads up, it's no.)

As of this moment, this story is not planned out; so it's a free for all! I'll probably start planning after the third or forth chapter, though. There are a lot more characters in this, so . . . I don't know if I'll do interactions too well (sorry).

One other thing, this story IS based on the song by Prince; however, you will not find the lyrics anywhere in this fic. The reason being- I have drifted too far from those lyrics, and they do not reflect the story accurately anymore. But I decided to keep the name. That still fits .

Gawd, I need to learn to shut up. On with the story!

When Doves Cry

Chapter One: The Wedding

A distant clap of thunder could be heard, scattering whoever was left out on the wet streets. The rain wasn't heavy, but relentless. This was the fifth day of darkness, much to everyone's annoyance. Fathers did not bring in much revenue from work; merchants or farmers alike. Mothers could not escape their whinny children, nor could they gossip and shop with other women. And children were becoming restless, cooped up in their houses by themselves, with the exception of their parents, or their annoying siblings. Everything was just wet.

Inside the smallest, raggediest, and most out-of-the-way hut lay a young man, no more than sixteen years of age. There was only one poorly-constructed bed, in one poorly-constructed room, which he lay on. The hut consisted of only three rooms, with only one window, which had no shutters, allowing the rain to splatter in as it pleased. But there was nothing of value in this so-called house anyway, so it did not matter.

The man stared at the ceiling as if it were a very complex and exciting television show. He wasn't really seeing anything, not even the shabby ceiling, for his eyes were clouded over. Not from death; on the contrary, he was very much alive. In a still-breathing, walking, talking sense. His soul, however, was on the brink of death.

A raindrop hit him square on the forehead, breaking the trance which the ceiling had doused him into. With annoyance in his unique auburn eyes, he took the time to actually see the ceiling. Another drop hit his nose. There was a small leak that would surely grow in size.

"Aw, shit," the young man cursed, sitting up and making a quick sweep of the room. He shivered. The only clothes he wore, that he had, were a sleeveless red shirt, khaki pants, and a pair of old riding gloves. With no sheets for his bed and no shutters for his window, plus the rain, he was cold. The only thing he cherished in the house was his old, chipped sword. And that would not bring him warmth.

Slipping on his old pair of riding boots, he went across the small room and picked up a medium-sized bowl. Walking back, he placed it under the leak which was growing in size already. If it wasn't fixed soon, there possibly won't be a roof left. Not that anyone would honestly care.

Sitting down beside the bowl, the man leaned against the wall, staring out the window. There was nothing to do. There was never anything for him to do.He sighed, running a hand through his always-disheveled black hair. His eyes were beginning to cloud again, when the door was flung open to reveal a sopping wet figure.

The figure stepped into the house, shook itself, then walked in and closed the door. Walking into the dim light the window emitted, a cat-like person took form. Attentive, pointy orange and black ears were flat and pink hair was drenched. The feeble dress stuck to her fur, which was matted, and the white poofs around her ankles and wrists were dripping excess water. She shivered slightly.

Pushing her hair out of the way, her blue eyes collided with the man's auburn ones. "It's a horrible day out, Van," she said just before she sneezed.

"I noticed," the man, Van, said softly as he removed his shirt to reveal his muscular chest. He handed the meager cloth to her. "And that's why you shouldn't be out in it."

"I was looking for food," the cat-girl replied defensively as she pushed his shirt back at him. "You keep it," she whispered before shaking herself again.

Van was about to insist, but knew he wouldn't win the battle, so instead he put his shirt back on gratefully. After all, he was just as cold. Glaring at his companion, he shot, "When will you learn, Merle?"

"I'll learn when I'm actually wrong!" Merle cried stubbornly.

Van chuckled, not a happy one, but rather a low, sinister chuckle. "You're always wrong, yet you haven't learned a damn thing."

Merle said nothing.

Hugging her wet body close to his, Van whispered in her ear, "So, I'm guessing you had no luck finding food?"

"Does it look like I did?" Merle hissed quietly, being so close to his ear. "The only thing I managed to 'get' was the information that the wedding will be two days after the rain ends."

As soon as the word 'wedding' passed over her lips, Van's muscles tightened, nearly crushing the cat-girl. The sound of his barely-controlled breathing was harsh on her sensitive ears. In her misguided anger, she had let slip a painful tidbit of information to Van. Now, she felt dreadfully sorry . . . and scared.

Van wouldn't meet her eyes as he let go of her, his front drenched from the excess water. He only just stared at the floor. The wedding was supposed to be that very day, but the rain obviously hindered that. He knew it had to be someday. Some very happy day. It was unavoidable. So, why did he think he could keep avoiding it?

That very painful day.

"Van--" Merle fumbled with the words as he suddenly lifted his eyes to meet her own. There it was again, that clouded over, dead-looking stare. A flash of lightning illuminated the room.

Without a word, Van climbing into his bed, shivering and facing the wall. He was now surrounded by an invisible force field. There was nothing left to be said.

oOo

From the palace that housed Basram's rulers, which was seated on a hill, there was a pleasant view of the country. Or there would have been, had it not been gray, wet, and virtually dead outside. Even still, a young woman sitting in her room continued to stare out at the scene. She was almost sixteen, was highly attractive. Her hair was sandy blond, almost halfway down her back and tied up in a loose ponytail. Green, piercing green eyes shone, with a beautiful, slender body to match. She was the sort who had men drooling at her feet.

Yet she did not smile and showed no sign of happiness.

She sighed and lay down on her lavished bed. The truth was, she was happy, if only a little. Today was supposed to be her wedding day. Thankfully it rained. Thankfully. Weddings were supposed to be happy occasions, were they not? They were supposed to symbolize the joining of two souls in love. But the man for whom she was to marry, she did not love. Therefore, she was thankful.

But she couldn't avoid the inevitable.

A light tap on the door brought her out of her miserable thoughts. For a moment, she pondered whether or not to grant the person access. She did not want to speak with anyone. But, if they truly desired to speak with her, all they had to do was turn the door knob.

"Come in," she said in defeat.

The door screeched open to reveal a man, a few years older than herself. His long blond hair flowed majestically down to his waist, earning him a pretty boy appearance. His eyes were a deep blue, and his clothes were those of a knight. A very high-ranking knight, as they were both regal and armor-ish. To complete the effect of a knight in shining armor, a sword was at his side.

Stepping inside, he said, "Your father wishes us to join him for dinner."

"I'm not hungry," the girl said. "Tell him I will not be joining him. Besides, I don't want to eat dinner with you, Allen."

Allen walked over to her bed, standing over her. "Come now, is that any way to talk to your future husband, Princess Hitomi?" He leaned down and kissed her, until she struggled away.

"I hate you and you know it!" Hitomi hissed, glaring up at him. There was no point in fighting him. He was, after all, a knight, and could easily overtake her. Plus, she knew he would do nothing further. He had no right to her yet. She only feared what would happen after they were married . . .

After a few moments of glaring, Allen smiled one of his crafty smiles. "Surely you can't still be hung up about him?"

"He is none of your business!" Hitomi exclaimed. "Now, get out of my room!"

"As you wish, Princess," Allen said with a bow before walking off.

Hitomi buried her face in her pillow.

oOo

"Get ready."

oOo

The rain stopped three days later with preparations for the wedding being done at lightning speed. The area around the outside of the palace gates, where the wedding was to be held, was blocked off so it could be set up. Everyone in Basram was scrambling to be ready for the big day.

Well, almost everyone.

Van and Merle watched from the sidelines as everyone around them ran around like crazy. To them, he didn't exist. Nobody wanted his help, lest he defile whatever he touched. Nobody wanted Merle's help simply because she interacted with him. Since the two of them had no other clothes but the ones they were wearing, and had no money to buy a gift, there was nothing for them to do. Not that Van wanted to have anything to do with the preparations anyway. The only thing he desired to do, perhaps, was burn them all to the ground. Instead, he busied himself with fixing his roof.

Inside the palace, Hitomi and Allen were forbidden from seeing each other. Both were having last minute work done, such as seeing if their clothes were properly tailored. As much as Hitomi was relieved at not seeing Allen, it wasn't of much comfort. The only reason she couldn't see him was so they could look special on their wedding day.

Basically, so she could see him every damn day of her life after that.

The day finally came, when all of Basram gathered to watch their Princess marry off to one of the Knights Caeli, Allen Schezar. Only now, it would be Lord Schezar. Whether the people of Basram truly loved him was questionable, but there was no denying their love for Princess Hitomi, even if she used to go off with . . . him.

Van began to wonder why he was even there, looking the raggediest of them all. He did not want to celebrate this day. But for once, everyone wanted him there. Just to rub it in. Just to gloat and snicker; for they had won. They always won. The only thing Van wondered was when had he started to comply with them?

I shouldn't be here.

It was too late. The wedding had already begun. Allen was already awaiting his bride at the makeshift alter. Not that Van could actually see him from the very back. But that wasn't what mattered. As he heard the horses hooves slam the ground, he knew it was the carriage carrying the princess. This was all that the people of Basram wanted him to see.

I refuse to look.

The carriage came to a stop in front of the red carpet that stretched towards the Alter. A guard went over and opened the door, bowing instantly. Merle clung to Van's arm tightly, ears flattened. Why was he still looking? What was compelling him to be here in the first place?

No.

Hitomi stepped out of the carriage ceremoniously. If she didn't look stunning before, she sure as hell did now. Her white dress was embellished with diamonds, and brought out her slender curves in all the right places with a low neck line. Around her neck, she wore her lucky pendant; pink and in the shape of a tear. He couldn't be sure from the veil she wore, but Van felt as though their eyes had locked.

He turned away abruptly, jaw clenched tight. He was shaking. Merle nuzzled his arm.

This is my own damn fault!

Hitomi became lost among the sheer body of the crowd; everyone staring at her in awe. Van never turned to look again. He wanted to run away. But something kept his feet planted to the spot. Running away was for cowards. If there was anything Van wasn't, it was a coward.

Allen linked his arm with Hitomi's, leading them both the rest of the way up the Alter. The priest was waiting. And so, the ceremony began . . .

oOo

"I'm going in."

"No, wait a moment!"

"Now!"

oOo

"Do you, Allen, take Hitomi to be your wife?" the old priests' voice boomed out over the crowd.

"I do," Allen replied, staring into Hitomi's eyes. She was crying. Crying from the pain of it all.

Van's teeth were ground together. Why the fuck was he still there? He was taking the coward thing too far. Each word was a pang. They had no right to subject him to this torture.

Oh wait, I have no rights at all.

Behind him, he heard a low hum. Impossible. Nothing could be behind Van. He was dead last and, as far as he knew, everyone who was physically able to attend in Basram was here. The hum became louder. There was something wrong. Every instinct in his body was being sent through the roof. The humming was even louder now, others only just starting to notice.

A shadow passed over them all.

Van drew his sword as he ran. This cannot be happening.

To Be Continued

A/N: Yes, now you guys are probably all confuzzled. I'm sorry. This wasn't how I intended to write it. It's just sorta . . . how it came out. Gawd, I can never stick to the same writing style. Sorry. Um . . . Damn, I left a cliffy too. Aw well, sucks for you :P. Hm . . . I guess some questions will be answered next chapter.

Some.

By the way, some of you may wonder why Hitomi's brother is not heir to the thrown (yes, her brother will be a part of this). My answer to you is this: BECAUSE I SAID SO.

Between, I'm not good at describing clothes. Fashion is definitely one of the areas I lack in. If Vi3t BaBiI decides I get too bad at it, I'm sure I'll get tutorials or something from her ;).

Vi3t BaBiI is my beta reader, and one of my bestest friends in the whole wide world. (And she's in honors English ;)

Please review, it makes me happy. (Sometimes, it makes me update faster 'cause I feel bad).

Luff you!

-Spirit0

Vi3t Babii – Hello readers. I hope you enjoyed the beginning of this fabulous story of Spirit0's. This is one of my fave's, by far! Don't you guys think the plot is so exciting? And she's just talking crap about the fashion thingy. I didn't alter a single description on anyone's clothes. oOoBEAMSoOo.... I'm one of her bestest friends in the whole wide world - (I'm doing terribly horrible in English so that statement of hers means nothing)