Encouraging words are encouraging. X3

Enjoy!

Edit: Ew. I hated how parts of this came out so I went back and revised it. Hopefully it's better now. That's the last time I go over my work while half asleep without the aid of some soda. D:

The same tiny room appeared again, still covered by its veil of white. Yet this time, there was no noise. There was no pain, no heat, nothing but a hollowed emptiness. It was deathly quiet and more than a little cold this time. A faint breeze entered the room, but where it had come from was a mystery in itself.

No… There was a door, a door located at the far end of the room. It swung open, back and forth, creaking on its hinges. A chilled breeze wafted into the room again, making the room itself feel like the top of a snowcapped mountain caught in a blizzard. Beyond the door… There was nothing; total, eternal darkness.

The darkness called out, its breathy whispers inviting and oh-so tempting. But what did it want? What could the voice possibly want? And why did he feel inexplicably drawn to it? He was sure it was a trap, but he could do nothing to stay his feet. Step after cautious step he ventured toward the door, the ominous voice whispering soothing, encouraging words still…

But all too soon a wicked wind blew, effectively slamming the door shut and locking out the devilish voice. The familiar, loud buzzing noise returned accompanied by a loud hissing noise. The sound magnified, almost to the point where it was deafening. Somehow, he could make out what it was trying to say…

…YOU CAN NEVER ESCAPE…!

Jerking violently awake, Robert breathed deeply, his throat hoarse, as if he had been purposely holding his breath the whole time he was asleep. He shook slightly but remained where he was positioned, not trusting himself to move for fear that something might happen. His dream – no, nightmare – was still fresh in his mind, still frighteningly there that he felt he could just reach out and grasp it…

But what did it mean?

He wasn't exactly one to look into these sorts of things, but this wasn't the first time Robert had had the dream and he was certain it wasn't the last. They had started haunting him ever since he had come to Russia, as if it were an omen of some sort. Every night a new piece of the dream would reveal itself, ultimately making the puzzle of it that more confusing.

But… No. Perhaps he was being silly and reading into this too much. It's not like he ever paid attention to what his dreams or nightmares held before, so why should he start now? And that also brought another dream he had recently to his attention.

"How odd. To think that that particular one involved Bryan," He murmured to himself, curling his arms around the pillow he was resting on. "Strange, too. It felt so real, so vivid. Almost as if…"

"Aw, I'm touched to know you think about me, even in sleep!"

"Gah!"

Robert jerked for the second time that morning, almost falling off the bed. He turned his head slowly, disbelievingly, to make eye contact with a certain, greyish haired, smart talking, smirk wearing, I-think-I'm-too-cool Russian blader… Damn it. There was no mistaking. The man before him really was Bryan, which meant he had not been dreaming.

He was seated at the far end of the room by the window on a stool that, Robert was sure, had not been there previously. He had one elbow propped on the window sill, his head lazily resting in his cupped hand. And he was still wearing that stupid, stupid superior smile of his.

"Do you enjoy startling people to the point where they may drop dead from shock?" Robert inquired, rather annoyed at the thought he had been caught off guard one too many times for his liking.

"More than you know," Bryan agreed, shifting his gaze towards the window. The scene before it was shocking; thick, dark clouds, the greyest of greys, steadily rolled across the sky, looking ready to ravage the land in a savage assault of elements. A loud boom of thunder only added to its intimidation. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry, are we looking at the same sky?" Robert asked, shaking his head. He eyed the foreboding heavens with distaste. Storms weren't really his thing. "If that's your idea of beauty, then you certainly have a warped view."

"And you have a shallow one." Bryan countered matter-of-factly. His smile faded somewhat as he stared out the glass window, longingly, as if he wanted to be out there reveling in the demonic atmosphere.

"Excuse me?" Robert asked, a tad confused at the accusation.

"Nothing. Shut up and take your medication." The Russian ordered, pointing towards the bedside table with his free hand, not bothering to turn around.

Blinking, Robert followed the direction in which he pointed and, sure enough, there was a glass of water and two small tablets placed on a paper towel. He eyed them suspiciously, taking into account that they could have been tampered with, or something equally as evil.

As if sensing his apprehension, Bryan tore his eyes away from the spectacle outside to find the German practically glaring daggers at the poor, defenseless tablets. A sly smile crept its way onto his face.

"Believe it or not, your majesty, not everyone is out to get you," He snickered. "And what could I possibly gain by harming you any more than I already have? Except, perhaps, a lecture and the threat of going deaf."

"Forgive me if I'm still a little wary about help coming from such an unlikely source," Robert murmured, still eyeing the medication with disdain. "People would faint with shock to realize that you have a soft side. I'm finding it difficult just trying to comprehend the thought."

"Keep talking, your highness, I may just force feed you those poisoned pills, ravage your drugged body and then ditch you in a ravine somewhere in the wilderness."

"Ah, now there's the cold-hearted tyrant I've heard so much about."

Robert had only meant it as a joke, but the look of hurt that flashed across Bryan's face was enough to make him regret his poor choice of words. He was about to apologize, but was cut off by a loud boom of thunder. It made him jump, which in turn got a reaction out of the metallic haired Russian.

It was a low chuckle; but it sounded strangled and forced. Bryan removed his hollowed stare from the nobleman and back to the window, giving it his undivided attention. A lightning bolt decided to rain down from the heavens at that point, striking something in the far distance and briefly illuminating the room.

The light caught Bryan's face, making his pale complexion positively glow. While it made him look unnaturally beautiful, it also made him frightening to look upon, his eyes glinting with an unknown emotion. The façade had quickly fallen as the light diminished and he was once again simple, quiet, devious Bryan. Robert hadn't realized he was observing him, until the other male abruptly leaped to his feet, startling the nobleman somewhat.

The Russian blader stepped quietly towards the door, stopping just inside the doorway. He hesitated before fixing Robert with a glare that would make your blood run cold, make the hair on the back of your neck stand up. His gaze was unwavering, intimidating, down right scary.

And then, against all logic, he smiled.

"You're probably hungry, right? Now what kind of host would I be if I didn't treat you to a meal?"

"Uh…" Robert hadn't meant to stammer but, damn it all, he had been caught off guard again. "I wasn't aware you could cook."

"I can't."

And with an evil, Bryan-esque grin, he strode out of the bedroom and into, presumably, the kitchen, leaving Robert in something of a stupor. The other man's mood shift was unsettling and more than a little strange. Then again, this was Bryan. He was generally an unsettling and strange person, or so Robert had recently discovered.

Sighing, he decided it was probably better not to think about it too much. A headache was the last thing he wanted to add into his mix of problems. Having been preoccupied with Bryan's company, it wasn't until now that Robert noticed his leg was throbbing in time with his pulse. It wasn't as painful as it had been earlier, but was noticeable enough to be classed as a nuisance.

So, against what the sane part of him shouted, he leaned over the side of the bed, wincing as he did, and swiped the two pills. Absently he placed them in his mouth, and then reached for the glass of water. The cool liquid was refreshing, soothing his sore throat and washing down the medication.

Now all he could do was wait and see if Bryan's words would prove (disturbingly) true, and they were in fact some sort of drug other than medication. But what's done is done. If Robert did end up in a ravine somewhere, then he had no one to blame but himself for placing a fraction of trust in the Russian.

Lighting flashed again, thunder booming shortly thereafter. A loud clanging noise drifted from one of the other rooms, followed by the sound of metallic objects collapsing against each other. Robert had to allow himself a slight grin.

Bryan might be seen as a daunting figure in person, but he was probably an absolute terror in the kitchen. He could picture the other hacking away at a poor, defenseless vegetable with an oversized kitchen knife, laughing like a madman the whole time. When he thought about it some more, he realized Bryan could make a butter knife look dangerous.

Robert shuddered. He was definitely going to have nightmares tonight.

… Nightmares?

… Oh.

Oh.

He had temporarily forgotten about that. He really wished the Russian would choose this moment to burst back into the room, effectively taking his mind off of his problems. When left alone with his thoughts, Robert tended to brood for hours, eventually ending up with a headache. And an awful one at that.

But alas, the only company he had was the thunderstorm brewing outside and his inner, depressing thoughts, the room still holding nothing which he could focus his attention on. Next time he went out, he was going to ask Bryan to bring back a newspaper, preferably a Russian one, so he could spend countless hours, days even, trying to decipher the words.

Since there was nothing he could do to prevent it, he sighed and allowed himself to think about the issues he had left unresolved back home in Germany. The castle was probably still in an uproar, everyone wondering where their righteous and honorable lord had run off to. Granted, there was only one person who knew where he was, and that particular person had politely turned a blind eye on his actions, much to Robert's relief.

No matter how much he plotted, schemed and cursed, there was just no simple way out of his predicament. No loop hole, no short cut, no second chance, no nothing. If anything, he could prolong his demise, but that was all. A temporary solution was better than no solution at all, he decided with a frown.

He was not going give up, though. If he found a way around this whole mess, a way that would not dirty his hands and was disaster free, then to hell with his temporary solution. That also led to another problem, one that could prove fatal…

Aloisa…

What was he going to do? How did he go about telling her? How, exactly, was he supposed to express his feelings? Be blunt? Sympathetic? Honest? And what of his parents? What would they think of his proposal? And his friends… Where would they stand on the matter? Would they support him unconditionally, or side with his parents?

It was always a never ending cycle of questions, none of which had a decent answer to accompany them. If he could have his way he'd order everyone locked up in the dungeons and be done with it. But things were never that easy…

The storm outside grew restless, throwing another lightning bolt from the sky. The thunder that followed roared loudly, rattling the window. A torrent of rain was long over due; the clouds looked about ready to burst any minute now, as they continued to steadily roll along the sky. It was impossible to tell what time of day it was.

Robert shifted under the covers, finding his legs stiff from the lack of movement. The throbbing in his leg had dulled, barely noticeable now. He desperately wanted to leap out of the bed, get some movement in his legs, and shake the stiffness from them. He was fairly sure his leg was not broken. If it had been, he would have needed more than simple aspirin to satiate the pain. However, he knew if he gave into his urges he would fall – rather inelegantly – flat on his face.

And he was not about to sacrifice his dignity so carelessly. He wasn't in that much of a hurry to escape the confines of the bed anyway, which was extremely comfortable, now that he thought about it.

A sharp bang! echoed throughout the house, followed by loud, undignified curses. Something had obviously fallen off the kitchen counter (it sounded suspiciously like a toaster, or something equally as heavy and metallic) that sent the Russian into a swearing frenzy.

Robert allowed a small smirk of his own. Watching Bryan struggle in the kitchen was something he would pay to see. It almost made him want to crawl out of the bed and into the other room so he could gloat about him being kitchen handicapped. The optimistic word there is almost. For now, he could make due with the knowledge that food preparation was something the Russian failed at. It was a small victory for the nobleman. However small and insignificant it may be, it was still a victory.

He heard a groan of displeasure from the kitchen again and shook his head, fighting off a laugh.

Bryan had proven to be an interesting character, albeit somewhat frustrating. He did not, in any way, do justice to the rumours and gossip the civilians so joyously spread for lack of anything better to do. The part about him being a tormenting tyrant may be true, but he was definitely not a cruel-hearted, blood thirsty demon of the night. And Robert should know; he'd met a certain night-dwelling, shadow-lurking, creep before, not that he was going to drop any names.

Robert deigned to admit he was more than a little intrigued by the slate haired blader. He was sarcastic, sardonic and more than a little sure of himself. While these traits weren't exactly what you would like to see in a person, they were a mix that worked well for Bryan. They made him seem… charming.

In a weird, twisted kind of way.

But that didn't mean he liked him. Not in the least.

Not entirely sure he was convincing himself, Robert dismissed the thought out of hand. He decided he should start working on a plan to survive the night. He was certain he could live through the Russian's subtle attempts at getting under his skin; heck, he hung around Johnny more often than not and in some ways, the Scot was the more unbearable of the two.

What Robert wasn't so confident about was living to tell the tale of Bryan's daunting experiments – sorry – cooking.