Knight's Valediction

Notes:

Valediction: Formal way of saying goodbye, the act of saying goodbye.

Jeremiel: Means "God uplifts" in Hebrew. Jeremiel is named as an archangel

"Is there any reason why these two should not be wed speak now or forever hold your peace." Father Abel Nightroad smiled as the village waited silently for the ceremony to conclude. Jeremiel, formally the inquisition soldier named Terry was lost in his bride's eyes. Anne-Marie's gown of white silk was adorned with fresh-picked flowers, "I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride."

There was a mighty cheer as they kissed; the whole village threw flower petals in the air, showering the new couple with well wishes and congratulations.
Brother Petro clapped, sincerely happy for the pair. He was dressed in his armor for this occasion; the polished metal gleamed brightly in the sunlight.

The wedding ceremony had taken place just at the steps of the small church, to accommodate the large number of guests and also to enjoy the rare sunlight.

Father Abel "Raziel' had added parts to the dome machine so that it would allow a 'hole' at the top of the dome allowing the sun to peek in on the village without letting in the harmful UV rays that would burn the Methuselah villagers. It was a miracle of technology. Petro glanced over at Michael smiling at the man; Michael's hair caught the sunlight, creating a golden halo around his face. The bright light also heightened the color of his eyes to dazzling green never seen in low light. The General of the Guards winked at him catching his gaze.

"Honor Guards Salute!" They both called out as one.
The village guards on side of the avenue and the inquisition soldiers on the other held up their swords, the newly married walked under the blades. Leading the procession down the hill to the village center where they would feast and celebrate.

The honey-wine was exceptionally good; Brother Petro sipped it, unsure of how strong it was, he saw that the dance had started again, this time with Michael leading the beautiful bride in a solemn dance that wove the pairs in and out of a slow walking pattern.

The village center was surrounded by tables baring food, revelers and watchers. The dance area was lighted by many bright paper lanterns. Abel looked upwards at the new moon, how long had he been here? A week? One lost count of the days out here and considering all the troubles. The Priest looked over to see the head of the Inquisition slipping away from the celebrations. "Oh well, I'll talk to him later." He sighed and then perked up when Little Mary dragged him out into the dance floor.

Brother Petro left the bright lights and walked out into the deep twilight. He still wore his armor even thought his men had cast theirs off to better enjoy the dance and feasting. The weight of the armor reminded him painfully of the choice he had made. He could not stay here. Hearing the soft footsteps of a warrior behind him he spoke without turning. "I have told my men that we will be leaving tomorrow morning before first light."

"That is regrettable." said the voice behind him, it wasn't Michael.
Petro turned around sharply. "..Abraham, I thought that-"
"That I was Michael?" The old man placed inspected his cane in the dimness. " He is still enjoying the dancing as should you while you are here Brother Peter. I am aware of how much pressure there is for officers of the Inquisition to uphold an image of propriety I should know; I was once an Inquisition officer."

Petro's eyes widened. "You where of the brotherhood? But how did you end up here?" The Elderly man nodded "Yes, I was a monk, a solider but that was years ago, when my hands were not as wrinkled as they are now."
Petro fell silent hoping that he would continue. Abraham slapped his cane sharply into his hand, a gesture very reminiscent of how his grandfather often started his lectures.

"Did you know my grandfather?" Petro asked. "His name was…"
"Arron Orcini?" Abraham finished for him " Yes, he was the one of the finest officers I've had the honor of serving with. How is he doing?"
"He is doing well, living on the pension the Vatican has given to its veterans." Petro said, still wondering. "How have you come to be here in this village Abraham? If that is your true name."
" It is my true name now, the man that was part of the Inquisition is long dead. Slain on the field of battle." He smiled "I was wounded fighting vampires on the border lands in Egypt, left for dead….but a Methuselah warrior took pity on me and nursed me back from the brink. As I could not go back, I stayed with that Methuselah, eventually we became friends. I, hidden under his wing as his human servant. The Methuselah-warrior was a member of a great house, the youngest son of a noble family. He was unhappy with the divide between the Empire and the rest of the world particularly with the Vatican, whom they fought with many long years losing many on both sides. He was a Christian, hiding his faith from his family.
"After several years, I convinced him to leave the empire to look for the rumored village of Christian Methuselah, we searched in the wilderness for many long months, encountering many others of his kind, Methuselah searching for freedom from prosecution. We found it after many trials and here so here we are."
"You said 'we', who was your Methuselah companion?" Petro asked. Abraham smiled in the darkness. "When he was chosen to succeed the leadership of the village, He let me chose his name."
"David!"

"Yes, David. My friend of many long years."

"Micheal told me that he was Solomon's son."

"Solomon adopted him as his heir. Such adoptions are not unusual in this village."
The Blue-haired man thought he heard a soft sigh from the elder. He ran calculations thought his head. David was capable of being a warrior again if he needed to, but Abraham was in his eighties and his daughter Amelia appeared to be in her early twenties. She wasn't a Methuselah and he never mentioned anything about a wife unless she was dead but that didn't make any sense. His browed furrowed. "You adopted Amelia."
"Yes, I raised her as my own after her parents where murdered." Abraham said, he turned to walk back towards the lights of the village. "Now, come back to the party Peter. I believe that someone is starting to miss you." He said softly.

Michael sighed; Petro had once again left the celebrations. He had hoped that this time the stubborn man would allow himself to have a bit of fun in public. The Knight frowned as he prepared to leave and search for him, Petro did seem to be depressed, thought the stoic man did not show it, Michael felt it, just as easily as he could feel his touch. The Inquisitor's feelings where open to him. Thought their bond, Michael was able to guess that Petro reluctant to leave, his mission was over with, the raiders gone, and they had finished all the repair work, they had no reason to remain.

The fact was, Michael had accepted that the Inquisition Squad and its leader would leave soon. He would stay here, bound to his duty as Petro was bound to his. The blond stood up, gently refusing the offer of more wine, ready to go back to the house where he was sure Petro would be waiting for him. He was wrong. He looked up in surprise at the blue haired man walking towards him without his armor holding two wooden staffs.

"A Dance or a Battle?" Petro asked him with a twinkle in his eye. Michael's heart skipped a beat and he grinned, "Both."

From a nearby table, Gabriel let out a whoop. "Clear the floor everyone, we are getting a treat!" Michael laughed as Petro passed him one of the staffs; it was sturdy, enforced with a metallic mesh that would not shatter no matter how much force was applied.

They stood back to back in the middle of the village square each holding a staff, as the slow drumbeat started they paced out with solemn dignity, the audience watching with baited breath.

The music suddenly shifted into fast beat, signaling the combatants to turn and attack. Petro swung first, his blow low so that Michael jumped over it with ease. He countered the next one, the movements of each flowing into each other not unlike a dance. The audience marveled at the skill and speed, it was as if this was carefully choreographed beforehand.

Petro lost himself to the sound of the music, it was fast, invigorating. He had no fear that Michael would hurt him, indeed he found that the more his heart pumped the more he could sense where and when the next move would be and he would move to meet it or deflect it. He loved it, it was a dance and yet he was unashamed. Michael's face was shining with excitement and his movements where a joy to behold.

From the sidelines David gave his companion a grin. "You sly old coot. You put Peter up to this didn't you?"

Abraham returned the grin. "I might have suggested it; he seemed to have a problem with dancing."

"What did you say?"

"I told him that Gabriel and the others had been waiting for a contest of sorts. And don't' call me an 'old coot', your much older then I am David." They laughed watching as the combatants move into faster tempo of graceful movement the music accented by the sharp clack of the staffs hitting each other rhythmically.

Just as it suddenly started the music stopped and Petro and Michael found themselves mirroring each other's stance, panting from the exertion.
Applause erupted from the watching villagers; they had never seen anything like it.

Abel was agog with wonder. The Priest clapped along with the rest, watching the men leave the floor both of them grinning and accepting handshakes from the delighted villagers.

Petro set the staff beside the door, he would never forget this night, the realization how deeply their bound was entrenched. It was like Michael was a part of him during that display of skill.

He felt a pair of hands rub at the base of his neck, he groaned, feeling the deft fingers prod into the sore muscle. "Has everybody gone home?" He asked.
"Not yet, it would be some time before they leave the festivities." Michael answered.

"Why did you leave early?"
"…..Abraham told me that you are planning to leave tomorrow morning." The blond wrapped his arms around the blue haired man from behind, "I wanted to spend every moment from here on with you….I promise you, I won't try to change your decision."

"Michael I wish that I could-"
"Don't! Don't' say anything…it would be simpler to take my life then say such things." Michael's' plaintive voice came from behind; the arms clung tightly to him. Petro felt that sense of despair threatening to engulf him. He knew Michael was near tears. There was nothing he could hide from him now.
"I'm sorry…"Petro turned around in his hold embracing the angel tightly, "…Thank you, thank you for everything. I will never forget you." He must have said the right thing for that feeling of despair was replaced by a feeling of warmth. Michael sighed, "Petro let me show you how much I love you…" He reached up and placed a kiss on Petro's neck at the base. Petro drew in a sharp gasp as he felt teeth, no fangs pressing into the flesh. He shuddered the erotic feeling of the tease rent his mind asunder with the promise, the promise of forefillment." "Aah M-Micheal!"

The blond Knight let go with out piercing the skin, stepping back to look at his lover with half lidded green eyes. "Take me as you will Vatican."

Brother Petro scooped up the Methuselah in his arms and carried him into the bedroom, carefully lowering him down into the cool sheets before hovering over him covering his face and neck with demanding yet gentle kisses. Michael sighed at the treatment, letting out a whimper as the large hands of the Vatican Knight undid the ties on his clothing and pull them away. He shivered a little in the cool air, watching as Petro undressed and covered body with his own, loving the way the man easily shielded him with his large powerful body.
Petro bit his lower lip as he pressed himself lightly to Michael, shuddering as felt soft skin press against his own; he wanted this evening to be filled with tender lovemaking not the pure carnality they had been engaging in during the past few nights. Reading this thought from Petro's emotions, Michael blinked away tears that threatened once again. "Petro, Please take me anyway you want, but please take me with you. I can't live unless you do. I want to-" Petro kissed away a tear that escaped. "Hush now, you're in my heart. Anywhere I go, I will always be here with you. I swear it." Petro moved to kiss his lips he was so addicted to, Michael moaned, feeling Petro press past his lips past his teeth, dancing along one fang. ...the Methuselah let out a more carnal moan, the nerve ending at the base of the sharp canine sending electricity thought him. Petro knew all of the Methuselah's sensitive places. The blue haired man tensed at the muffed sound of Michael's moan, the sound of his voice always caused him to lose control slightly. He broke the kiss reluctantly.
"Petro.." Michael protested. Reacting for him, pulling him closer. Petro smiled. "I will give you want you want; only…you must keep utterly silent. You know how crazy I get when you-"
"Indeed I do." Michael returned his smile with a glint of mischief. "…but you drive me insane when you touch me so slowly, I'm not a virgin Petro. I am a sinner, a sinner who lusts for you, my glorious perfect Knight." The last three words where said a erotic moan. Petro's body responded, his cock growing harder in an instant.
Michael put his hands over his head, writhing, looking down at that impressive hard length. "Ahhhnnnn…..I want it, I want it within me Petro. I want you to spill your self in me so deeply that I'll feel you long after you've gone." Petro was panting at these words, Michael's voice caressing him roughly.

Petro shuddered and sat up denying Michael any contact for the moment. "Turn around on your front." The blond complied, finding a comfortable position on his front; he tied to look over his shoulder. He groaned feeling those hands rubbing his back, relaxing him and calming him. Calming him enough so that he could be patient, he was taken completely by surprise when Petro suddenly pushed his thighs apart and shoved in two well oiled fingers in his body. "Aah!" he cried out. His body tightening around those slick fingers.
Petro poured a bit more oil from a decanter, setting back on the bedside table for later use. He felt his fingers being squeezed, "Eager aren't you?" he commented, pushing them even farther in. Michael moaned helplessly, raising his ass up offering, begging for more.
"Tell me…"

Rough or gentle?

Both….Rough first, then gentle.

"So selfish…Very well then." Petro removed his finger leavings the hole slick with the oil. Michael braced himself, screaming out as the massive shaft penetrated him, even with the lubrication, it was still a bit painful. Petro buried himself deeply, gasping as the tightness, the heat. Waiting for Michael to relax, he reached down caressing the vampire's back and hips. He circled one hand around Michael's waist, lifting him slightly. Michael immediately knew what he wanted and got up on all fours. "Oh yess.." he gasps as Petro started to move, his thrusts hard and deep. He cried out as the hard steady movements hit that place inside, there were times when Petro did this, driving into him with such wild abandon, that he didn't even need to touch himself to reach climax. Petro knew where and how to please him. Michael's cries rose as the inquisitor's pace quickened, with that same punishing movement of his hips, the sound of their bodies slapping together, the low erotic moans. "Ohh god yes, yes! YES!"

Petro felt Michael tighten almost painfully around him, squeezing his release hard from him. He groaned, shuddering as he pumped the last of his creamy heat into the Methuselah, he withdrew, letting out a groan of satisfaction.
Michael dropped panting hard to the bed, "I-Incredible…ahh!" he tensed as he felt Petro's large warm hand press down on the small of his back. His body overly sensitive, he arched into the touch.

The Vatican knight smiled, lowering down to kiss the warm skin, His tongue flicked out to taste the sweet salt of it. Hearing Michael's muffled moans, he trailed his kisses downwards.

Turn around.

Michael turned around on his back, gasping as Petro spread his thighs and dipped down in between them. "P-Petro!" His hands shot downwards to grab handfuls of his long pale blue hair.

Petro growled, he nipped at the smooth thighs with his teeth, drawing more cries from his helpless lover. He loved them, Michael's legs, his skin was soft and smooth, yet the muscles could be hard as steel whenever the blond wrapped his legs around his waist or his head in this case, threatening to crush him. Petro nipped up closer the apex of Michael's tights causing his lover to let out insistent whimpers; those sounds alone re-awakening his arousal.

Michael was outside himself, swimming in pleasure, as the blue haired man sucked and nipped the skin around his swollen erection. He wasn't aware of the noises he made, as Petro continued to assault him with pleasure.

"Oh god Petro!"
Petro pressed his warm wet tongue to the place just behind his heavy balls. Laving, working it with slow languid licks. Michael loved it when he licked him here, he didn't say in words but his body strained and quivered and he could feel it through the bound where Michael loved it the most. He drew a wet path upwards, inciting a shuddering gasp as he licked up the thick shaft…

Petro wait, I want to please you too.
Nothing pleases me more then pleasuring you

The blond knight whimpered as the knight of destruction slid his lips over the slick head of his cock the Methuselah tossed his head back, mouth open in silent scream…..

Petro I love you, I love you...

.

.

.

It was still dark out when they made preparations to leave. The sky above was still bright with stars, the night sky slowly lighting from black to deep blue as dawn approached.

The trucks were loaded with enough provisions to last them the three day journey to civilization.

The entire village was out to see them off, the village guards standing silently as the commanders of both groups stared at each other. They did not get any sleep during the night, preferring to remain awake together.

This was going to be hardest goodbye for Michael. The general of the guards said nothing; he glanced over to David who had cleared his throat when he realized that the silence would last all morning if no-one didn't say anything.
"Thank you for all your help Brother Peter. On behalf of the village, I would like to extend a welcome to you anytime you'd like to visit."
There where words of agreement from the villagers.
"Thank you, I have….never thought that I would be grateful to…Methuselah's before I came here. I should thank you for opening my eyes." Petro said in response.

Michael tried to speak, finding his words lodged in his throat. He remained silent.

Abraham smiled. "I hope you return soon, if you don't' know the way Father Raziel will guide you….Won't you Raziel?"
Abel glanced up. "Oh yes, if he wants to I will." The AX priest grinned back at the Elder. "I don't know when my next visit will be, my job doesn't allows for much vacation time."
"Never the less, it's always a pleasure when you visit Raziel."

"Brother Peter, I will be wary should I encounter another of the Inquisition, I hope you come back soon." Gabriel spoke up. Petro grinned at the smaller man. "As do I." The Blue haired man looked at Michael again. The Angelic knight met his eyes.

The call of a morning bird startled Brother Petro out of the spell. He couldn't do this…
Michael's left hand grip tightly, as he prepared to say his goodbyes. But Petro suddenly turned from them calling out to the Inquisition squad. "Men, we are moving out! Let's get some distance behind us today."

There were shouts of goodbyes and general well wishes as the squad moved down the valley. In the sky above them, the stars where starting to fade.

Many of the villagers departed some staying to watch the group disappear in the distance. Michael was among them.
David caught Abraham's eye, motioning to the still silent figure in armor. The Elder sighed and gestured for them all to leave him be.
But Gabriel wasn't going to let this go so easily. The Red-haired man spoke up. "If you really want to say goodbye to Peter properly you'd better do it now, they will be entering the canyon soon."

Michael stiffened. He looked over his shoulder at Gabe." Eh?"

"Go ahead; it's not often that anyone finds true love-"
THAWACK!
"Gabriel!"
"Ouch!" Gabriel hunkered down in pain, holding the back of his head.
"I thought we agreed this was never to be mentioned!" the old man waved his cane, yelling at the young man.
There where giggles and chuckles from the remaining villagers, David covered his face with one hand. "Gabriel…."
"What? It's not like we have to keep this secret anymore." The guard protested, flinching as the elder raised his cane threateningly.
Michael felt his face grow hot. "How long has everyone know about me and Peter?" He asked his face flushed with embarrassment.
Luke chuckled. "For awhile now. You were not so subtle my friend." The physician winked at him. "Particularly during the night."
Oh God, Michel's face burned.

"Gabriel's right, you don't' have much time….Dawn is coming; they will be moving fast in those vehicles. Hurry up and go!" Abraham urged.
Michael took off running towards the stables.

In the small adjoining valley, Brother Petro lingered alone, telling his men to go on ahead while he looked around. The signs of the fight where still evident, the blackened burnt spot where the truck had exploded, the trampled grass. He picked up an arrow-head that one of the Methuselah warriors used. He would keep this as a memento of this battle.
The Inquisitor glanced up at the sky which was starting to lighten more the stars fading.

Brother Petro gazed over the grass without really seeing it, his mind wandered to the past events; it seemed like a lifetime ago. So much had changed within him that he wondered if he would be able to behave the same as he always did when he returned to Rome. Petro knew that he would miss this place, not only for the love he was leaving behind, but the inherit freedom it offered. The wide open spaces of the northern plains, the wind the smell of grass and growing plants. He took a deep breath, eyes closing for a moment to savor the taste of it.

Michael's warm scent, blending with the smell of the fresh wind and grass, his golden hair a halo falling about his exquisite face, his jade green eyes…

"Goodbye Michael." he whispered, turning and walked towards the gap in the rock. To the road that would lead him back to the Vatican.

Covered head to toe in shining armor, the knight rode recklessly over the grasslands, down the valley, outracing the sun as the light nipped at the heels of his mount. Just over that hill. He urged the horse to run faster, eyes on that familiar hilltop if he could catch him.

"Petro!"

Hearing the shout, Brother Petro turned. The sound of hoof beats carried on the wind and that voice. "Michael?"
The Knight crested the hill, stopping with such suddenness that the gray charger reared. Petro raised his hand to shield his eyes as the dawn followed behind Michael, casting a veil of soft light around the Knight.
"Petro! We will meet again! I swear it! Do you hear me? Michael yelled out over the distance,
Petro raised his hand in acknowledgment.

I hear you…

~The End ~

Author's Notes: Thank you for reading, I hope to write a sequel one that takes place after the Anime.

I do not know what happens after the Manga or the stories so I will be winging from the events after the Anime.
This story happens some two years before the Anime.

Another note on the mind-link between Petro and Michael: while I am not exactly sure why Petro kept having those 'nightmares' about Michael.(First Chapter) It might be from Michael's sexual urges that triggered it though the link. After all Michael is not opposed to pleasing himself unlike Petro was.

Anyways, I'm off to start writing my next fanfic.

I hope you enjoyed reading,

~Elysion Gear