A/N: hello people! quick update, huh?... ahh, well... Ronan... you really don't like him, huh? haha, ya know, me neither, i can't stand the bloke... btw, 1000 points to the one who will pick up the reason as to why i have shortly presented you all with an officer from the "english office", who is scottish...:P...
Chapter XII
I began hating the word and meaning of "expecting". Once we, Ronan and I, were married, I had stupidly enough expected that he we would be spending "quality time" with one another, but he went back to Order. He was with me till we got our own place, some small castle I remembered having spent vacations at with Amadae and Valerious when I was younger. It was in Poland. I was never much for geographic, and I couldn't remember the name of the town. I think it was Warszawa and even though I lived there for about 16 years, I didn't get very acquainted with the surroundings. I missed taking a ride up around Vaseria, or taking a "field trip" to the Carpathians.
Ronan did of course come home from time to time, and the time was spent well, but it always left me with a hole in my heart, because he was never really there. And I eventually thought of moving to Rome, but he said that he wouldn't want me to move there because of him, and that it was too much danger to me.
After a few years I always felt I'd lose him to the wars and the battles, and I felt desperate to bear him a child. And we tried, and we tried. And we failed miserably. I started thinking that there was something wrong with me; that I had lost the capability to have children, because of my father. I went to the doctor to get checked, whether it was impossible for me to get children or not, and I wanted so desperately to hear him say I could, and was overwhelmed with relief when he said, that nothing could have been more able for me. I told none of this to Ronan, and waited patiently for us to get pregnant, but I was long before we did.
Vlad started contacting me again, as if he had never been showing his obscene jealousy. He said he had started taking great interests in Opera, and classical music. I was a little sceptic about it though. I wouldn't have guessed Vlad to like it. But Ronan said he had heard Vlad was ascending Operas, and had even paid a few people, who were able to play this kind of classical Vlad had suddenly taken deep interests in, to play for him occasionally. Vlad also suddenly wrote to me about his liking for drama, and he was trying out for a little part in some little piece, and he had been picked and chosen for one of the lead roles. I smiled a lot over these letters. It was almost like when he sent me letters when we were younger, when he told about the monsters he defeated. I felt a little proud of him.
He did more things I would never have thought of him doing. He apologized to Ronan for past years behaviour. He regretted it, and said he wanted peace, but surely not friendship. He was just tired of fighting. A little confused of the situation, Ronan had taken Vlad's hand and shaken it. Ronan had been a little weary towards Vlad in the start, but it seemed as though it would last, and this truce went on for quite some time; years in fact.
I had sat there, alone, in our bedroom, staring out the window, wondering what Ronan would do, if I let myself sent in an application. I doubt he'd like it, if I had. He had that thing about him; he wanted to be the man in the house, when he was in the house. And I was thinking of it specifically because I had both seen women bearing the resemblance to the clothes the men wore, these long jackets and what looked like breeches. And Ronan had mentioned it a couple of times too. Anyway, I tried to put the thought of it behind me, even though the thought sounded more and more… alluring. I was feeling annoyingly defiant, and it somehow drove me, but I kept being passive, and it all just annoyed me.
Ronan had talked about that he had a feeling that something was coming up soon, in the nearest future. He said that a demon had a few years back, had begun gathering up some fellow demons and had clashed down on some different, small corporations of the Order. Up and till the last few years, it had not been a big problem; the corporations were easily fixed, and the groups were easily hunted down and killed or punished. It was vaguely intercepted, when the Council of the Order heard of the demon had excelled hugely, and he had been planning it obviously, because he had an average-large army on his side. And as those years perished, it showed Ronan had been right about them going into one, final battle. Then he, The Elder and Vlad, among others of course, were "invited" to the boot camp, to await their orders there. Not that the Order didn't have people enough, just not experienced people enough, so they were called upon.
And they moved around europe for quite a few months, and Ronan had repeatedly sent letters home, about how he wished he was with me, rather than being so close to the field. He said he liked the fight, the singing of swords all over, but he disliked lying in his tent, having to fear to get slaughtered in sleep. His hairs stood on end, he said, and shivers went down his back. He wouldn't tell others, because he felt he'd then be looked at as coward, which would be a disaster, because he thought he had to "be strong for the men". I smiled at that, though. I was just looking forward to see him. He had said he'd be back here in a few weeks, because he had to make a stop at the Order first. I, however, decided I would be waiting for him at the Order Headquarters, just to surprise him. I missed him so, even though he had taken a quick brake 3 or 4 weeks ago, because they made camp not far from Poland, and he was home, briefly, for 2 days before going off again. I was soon packing, and ready to leave. I knew he would be back at the Order in 2 weeks or so, but I went off just the same.
On my way there, I felt very tired. And on the ship I felt even sicker, and I vomited the whole trip to Rome. I had a growing hope inside of me, deep down. I had the feeling that perhaps something were growing in me. My last thought before I fell asleep on the bunk was, that maybe Ronan and I had gotten lucky…
Hungary, outskirts of Budapest, 1459, late spring.
If one had been around, like the five thousand men who lay snoring in tents, you would have thrown up by the smell of the camp. The reason to that was that the soldiers had camped on their latest battlefield, and so the bodies of the fallen, both men and demon alike, lay spread across the mould fields. At dawn, they had prepared to break up, and go further north, because if the sun hit the bodies, that smell, which would have occurred, would have been truly horrible for a human. And it certainly wasn't a sight for sore eyes; bloody, amputated limbs lay about, and weird colours from demon blood stained the ground. The pack of a couple of thousand men marched on and knew their destination.
Vladislaus rode his black stallion with a kind of stuck-up but admirable pride. He galloped ahead and back again, revelling in the thought of battle was soon again upon him. Behind those green hills, a new fate would be made, and re-made, and he was soon going to swing his long great sword, and hit those who were worth less than the dirt beneath his boots.
"What do ya' reckon Vladi?" said an officer from the station in Great Britain. His name was Marsters, and he was Scottish, which his accent plainly stated. "Behind thos' hills?" Marsters continued.
"Yes," said Vlad, who had stopped his horse, to look out at the scenery before him; a horde of demons, different shapes and sizes. They would soon be fought to an end, and his fingers itched to swing his sword.
"Be prepared," Ronan had come between Vlad and Marsters.
"I always am," Marsters said happily, as if he was not really minutes from combat, but at some family dinner in Scotland.
The Elder came up behind them and gave them a small pep-talk.
"Tha' be Valerious the Elder, yeah? Should've remembered me skirt then," he said with a grin in Vlad and Ronan's direction, which they replied.
The battle rose, and the front soldiers stepped to the side, or went down on one knee, as archers pulled back the string of their bow, and let I slip from their fingers. The demons let their "archers" pull out the crossbows, but hit very few, as their range was not long enough. Instead, they started charging forward, and were hit by the archers as an easy prey. It was now a time for fighting, and the Order's soldiers stepped forward. First, the "marching band" and then the people on own private horse, which entitled Vlad, Ronan, Marsters, The Elder, and at least five hundred other men. Mystically, foot-men began pulling the horsemen of their horses and swiftly chopped off their heads, or put the sword through the heart.
The demons pulled back to the forest from which they had emerged, and as the men followed, they saw silhouettes of demons which were skin coloured, but in a greasy, see-through way, so they could see the veins pumping beneath. They had thin, slender hands and long fingers, which were very knobbly, and the nails were small claws, with a pointy end. To describe their heads was impossible, but they had big red eyes, and looked crazy, but in an alluring way, which made them chill. An archer started shooting at them, and some of the would-be insane men, came back to reality, and stopped killing their own. They killed the tree demons, and fought the last battle right there. Some lesser demons, brainless and very stupid, wailed loudly in a screeching way, and ran for the forest, to hide there.
"I'll get 'em," Marster made moves to climb his horse and set after them, but Ronan put a hand on his shoulder.
"No, John. You've fought more than enough. Go to the infirmary when it is put up. I will go," Ronan said, and sheathed his sword and jumped up on his horse's back. Vlad followed up on his own horse.
"Two is better than one, friend," Vlad said, eyeing Ronan with a friendly sincere expression. Obviously only Ronan took notice of the sarcasm in Vlad's words, but kicked off his horse into the woods, and Vlad easily followed.
They caught up with the idiotic demons. There were 13-14 cowering around, standing still as if paralyzed. Vlad lounged forward on his horse and started killing.
"One… two," Vlad mumbled, but Ronan caught the words, and the meaning; a challenge of who would get most demons before ones sword, before the source was used, and Ronan, prideful, accepted.
They rode around the little clearing, and then they were both counting on six demons each; only 2 to go. Ronan jumped off his horse and charged forward, swiftly killing his seventh demon. Vlad's was running around frantically, and he had trouble with killing it, especially on horseback. The demons ran past Ronan's horse and it whinnied and scraped the forest floor with its hooves. Before Vlad could severe the demons head from its body, Ronan had jumped up, rolling over his horse, and had successfully split the demons head in two. Vlad's horse stopped right in front of Ronan, and stood sideways. Ronan looked gleefully up at Vlad.
"That was eight, friend," he breathed, and heaved himself up like he had just the most heroic thing in the world, and he revelled in Vlad's annoyed and somewhat disgusted look, as he descended his horse.
The silence was broken, however, when a fifteenth demon, which was much larger than the other stupid ones, came out roaring frantically, scaring the horses away. They ran back into the same direction from which they came. Vlad swung his sword mightily, and the head slid off the demon, as Ronan stabbed it through the chest. It fell heavily to the ground with a loud thump, as its blood poured out from the neck, drawing out a great smell, which was beyond compare to any horrid smell. The stood panting a moment, searching each others faces, looking at the cuts and blood in their faces. Ronan noticed that Vlad's hair was not pulled back, but hung around his face like a curtain.
"Let's go back," Ronan said finally, walking away from Vlad. He walked past some trees, and had he looked around, he wouldn't have been able to see neither Vlad nor the clearing.
"Wait, it seems I've forgotten something," Vlad said suddenly through the trees, which made Ronan stop in his tracks.
He walked back, out of pure curiosity, only to find Vlad, looking into the ground, his great sword, which went from his abdomen to the ground, had its peak placed in a gap between Vlad's feet. His hair hid his face completely, unless a light breeze swept by, and he suddenly seemed so horribly pale. Ronan came closer, feeling a little concerned somehow.
"Valerious, is something-" Ronan made gasping, choking noise in his throat as his chin fell.
Vlad had swung up his sword, and let it enter Ronan through his stomach, and processed into the back ribs, and he smiled evilly as he heard the bones crack. He pushed it further in, hearing bones snap in Ronan's back, and he to his knees, realization fresh in his mind. Vlad smiled maliciously into Ronan's face, and gave an evil smirk, as he took a good hold of his sword, and started wrenching it around, bringing Ronan into further agony. He screamed in agony, and Vlad tried to enjoy his pained cry, but instead felt shivers go down his back. Ronan made a choking noise and spat blood out on the ground. Blood blossomed down his tunic underneath his light armour. Vlad tilted his sword into a horizontal line, and made Ronan fall backwards, and he was dead before he hit the ground. Vlad pulled out his blade, and cleaned it. He messed up Ronan's body badly, to make sure that the officers wouldn't expect him.
Vlad ran through the bushes and trees, and found his horse standing before him, the grim stuck in some branches. Ronan's horse had just stopped because the stallion had. Vlad took the spare horse to its master, and it put its mule and whinnied. Vlad smiled and climbed his horse, and went to give his explanation to the officers, and his father. He would tell them, that they had been surprise-attacked, and that big tub of lard in there, had grabbed Ronan and tore at this stomach, first ripped a big hole in the armour and tunic, and had then successfully made a cut in his skin, and his intestines had plummeted out through the cut. Anyway, he was dead.
And Vlad played his part, and was believed, because everyone knew he had begun to befriend Ronan, and nobody even suspected, or even had the ridiculous idea that it might have been Vladislaus Dragulia, high ranged officer of the Holy Order, Son of war-hero Valerious the Elder.
Vatican of Rome.
I had been waiting for a week or so, for Ronan to come here, and I expected that I would probably have to wait another week. And more days passed, and then, one night I had a very restless night.
I had horrid nightmares with people without, no, murderers without faces who killed me, and Vlad, and Ronan. Everybody I cared for. My stomach was giving problems too. And it wasn't just aching plainly; it was excruciating pain in both my stomach and lower parts. I vomited all night and that night was sleepless and oblivious to me. When I woke up, there was blood on the sheets, on my legs, between my legs, and felt I just wanted to die.
I knew where that blood should have belonged. It was to be the first blood coursing around my unborn baby's body, and everything around me told me I had aborted it. I lay for days in a new bed, resting, but not really resting. I lay down all day, but I hardly slept, and just wanted to cry all the time. I wanted Ronan to be there, now, to hold me, and tell me everything was going to be alright, even though I would know it was a lie.
When the week ran out, the first groups had come in, and I stood waiting everyday outside the Vatican, waiting for Ronan to come on his horse. But he never came on a horse. He was on a bier, pulled by his own horse. Perhaps he had been hurt too badly to ride himself, I didn't know until I saw the heartbreaking reason. He was dead and I was crying all over him. It was almost as confusing as the night of my abortion. I remembered I was pulled away from my dead husband's body, and embraced by Valerious, who held me for a long time, and I sobbed and cried into his shoulder, holding tightly on to him. There were no words between us; he just sat rocking me back a forth. At some point, I changed into a new embrace, into arms that hadn't held me for several years, and these belonged to Vladislaus. Seeing him made me cry harder, and he sat, as Valrious, and stroked my hair. He seemed terribly sorry about what had happened. Then he held me from him and searched my face, and his brows furrowed in sincerity.
"I am sorry. I am sorry for you and everything that has happened," he said suddenly, wiping away flowing tears with a thumb. "I couldn't have helped him, Cass. The demons picked him up and its way with him. I severed its… I killed it, before it pulled him apart. I am sorry, deeply sorry-"
"Don't. please stop apologizing. It's enough that I am sorry, you don't need to be too. Please be strong, Vlad… for me," I said, entwining my fingers with his. I lay down on his lap, and pulled his arm around me.
Suddenly, I found myself wondering where Gabriel was in all of this, so I asked Vlad about it. He said that Gabriel had begun taking on big, loner assignments, getting sent all around the world, and therefore hadn't been here for this war. 'Another reason as to why he hadn't written to me for months, and never visits me much anymore' I thought. An even when he was there, he seemed so far off. I was very grateful for Vlad being there for me, all the time, day and night. I felt a lot of times that he might be able to read my mind, because he was always two steps ahead of me, like when I wanted to have some water, he brought me some, before I could even get it myself. Vlad was a grand help, and my most beloved friend. I even dared tell him about my abortion, and he was very compassionate, and I felt I had missed him for so many years, that I could hardly get I had not spent more time with him.
He asked me what I would do now, and it quickly sprung to mind that I wanted to move back to Transylvania, back to Vaseria. He smiled at this.
"Homesick, again?" he said.
"Yes, dreadfully," I said.
"I think my father was thinking of taking you back home anyway. He will be pleased," he said.
The thought of enrolling at the Order popped up again, and I decided that this was certain to happen, once I got home, and got well again. I had to move on, and I had to do it alone then. 'I have to start all over… simply,' I thought, before I tried to fall asleep.
A/N: mwahaahahah! i am happy happy happy! it was PURE pleasure to kill him! oh my, i am happy! you should've seen the way i acted when he died!... sorry, mental probs:P... btw, hope you didn't get all too annoyed with my 2 lines of scottish, haha... i just like scottish accentsOo... i think you people out there are satisfies now, you got your death-wish for that baaad Ronan, fella... ahh, well, RR, plz, i beg you! i like, no i am addicted to reviews! euhm, unless it's really bad flamers, them i could do without;)...!
