Author's Note: Hey everyone. Yes, I am updating regularly again :). I want to finish this story before summer, and with the way things are going, I think I just might. I really must attribute the timeliness (lol) of this chapter to Skippyscat; who's been reading the story over my shoulder (figuratively) before I post it. Thanks Cat!
Here is the action chapter I promised. I hope you all enjoy it. Thank you for all of your reviews. The responses to the chapter reviews will be at the end of the chapter, and the responses to the one-shot reviews will appear at the top of the next one-shot. Thanks and enjoy!
Oh one warning...this chapter jumps around...a lot. Ok..on with the story:)
Chapter 24
"Dammit, Roxy get off me; I'm working!" Guimel shoved the chambermaid off more roughly than he'd intended and she gasped, swinging at him as she stumbled into the stone wall behind them. Guimel ducked her blow, glad she'd missed him; the girl had a mean right hook. The black eye Roxanne had given Sir Morgan's page was warning enough.
"What the hell's your problem tonight, Guy? Working's never stopped us before." Guimel rolled his eyes as the well-endowed girl laced her bodice while glaring his way and turned his eyes back the gates. He'd nicked a pair of Folken's binoculars the last time he'd been in the lab and they had come in very handy... not just for tonight.
"I'm on sentry, Roxanne. Meaning: I have to be alert at all times," Guimel sneered, as he smelled her strong perfume before he felt her inching closer to him. Wet lips against his neck made him cringe and spin away, glowering at her like she'd lost her mind.
She had!
"What the hell are you wearing? And what's with all the make up? You look like one of those men in drag on the corner of Beer Bub's."
Roxanne snorted, brushing a lock of brown hair off her forehead and leaning back against the stone rail of the balcony, peering down into the busy courtyard. "I would think that you liked the drag look."
Guimel almost dropped the binoculars. "You look like a whore, dear; why would you think I'd like that?" He set the binoculars down and stepped over them to stand beside Roxanne. Using two fingers, he caught her chin and turned her face toward his. Her gray eyes were covered to the brow with blue powder and her lashes were soiled in black mascara, clumping together and leaving traces of black over her rogue tinged cheeks.
Guimel brought his thumb up to wipe away the red lipstick. "I like the natural look on you."
Roxy purred, smiling coyly and fighting his hold to bring their lips together, and Guimel had to shove her away again. "I'm working."
"You were working last night too."
By the gods... "Get away, woman! Go...wash your face or something and then I may reconsider your offer."
"Oh," Roxy snarled, reaching out to push him as well. "Jerk. You know, I didn't have to come out here. Someone told me you looked like you could use some cheering up and stupid me, I came running. What kind of fun are you looking for tonight, huh, Guy?"
"I'm not looking for fun; I'm looking for my friend. Now get lost before I toss you off this balcony. If anyone sees you up here, you know what they're going to think..."
"You never care what anyone thinks..."
"Tonight I do," Guimel growled. "I don't want any of my buddies thinking I'm up here playing around, when I said I would..."
"Plenty of people saw me coming up here, so they're going to think what they want regardless. Come on, Guy... are you gonna deny the mother of your child?"
The mother of my... "What the hell are you talking about?"
Roxy held her head high, hands on her narrow hips. "Well, what do you think happens when a man and a woman..."
"Roxy..." Stay calm; remain calm. Do not throw her off the balcony. "There is no way in hell I could be the father of your child. You're pregnant?"
He'd been with a pregnant girl? That was... disgusting.
"I've done it more times with you than anyone else this month and my monthly's off..."
"Roxanne... listen to me carefully." Guimel placed both hands on either of her shoulders. "You cannot get pregnant through the backdoor!"
He released her and smacked a palm to his forehead. Well, he certainly didn't choose em' for brains, but good gods and goddesses.
That was it. Staring at the clueless look on her face in annoyance, Guimel kindly took Roxy by the arm and escorted her to the door. He opened it and gave her a gentle push onto the stairs. "Go away; I'm locking this door."
"You're a stiff, Guimel– and– and Jon's better than you anyway!"
Guimel bolted the door, shaking his head on her final incensed cry. Good bye, Roxanne. Blah. Never again.
He walked back to his sentry position with a sigh, retrieving the binoculars and jumping up to take a seat on the rail. The stone was warm under the palm on his hand as it rested beside his knee and he frowned. The weather was perfect for cold beer and a walk on the beach with...
Eh... not her.
Guimel was one of the few people that was glad Lord Dilandau had gotten out of the palace and was enjoying the night. He only wished Lord Dilandau had asked him along and maybe Dallet too.
Guimel snorted; how much fun could Lord Dilandau really be having with Van? The boy was as bland as Dallet's cooking and dry as Miguel's jokes...
Speaking of which, Old Miguel hadn't looked too thrilled when he'd heard Lord Dilandau was out with his boyfriend. But Miguel should know if a person didn't tempt his quarry with a little bait every now and again, they'd find something prettier to look at. And Lord Dilandau was certainly very easy on the eye.
Poor kid attracted everything with eyes to see and legs to come closer and didn't know the half of what he had, nor what he was doing with it.
If they ever got an extended time off, Guimel and Dallet were gonna take Lord Dilandau out, show him the real town. Maybe they could sail up the coast to find new territory to prowl.
Maybe.
There sure were a lot of "maybes" as of late.
Maybe we'll stick together after the war. Maybe we'll become a band of pirates and raid the Gaean seas. Maybe Lord Dilandau doesn't need Folken and Marie to come up with a cure.
Maybe he can get better on his own.
That was what Guimel liked to think. The others were... annoying him, even Dallet. Dallet fell in with Gatty and Shesta, and Miguel and Viole– who the hell knew what they thought anyway? Odd balls.
Viole had said something about letting Lord Dilandau do whatever he wanted and standing behind him, but the mournful look on his face while he'd said it soured Guimel. Did no one else besides him think that maybe they should hold off on the memorial service until Lord Dilandau actually came to them and said, "Look guys. It's over."
Gatty had claimed Lord Dilandau was in denial and that no one was to talk to him about it or the meeting; it would upset him.
Damn right. It'd upset me too.
And now this: A battle in the morning, a supposedly angry Folken haunting the hallway they'd be given, lying in wait for Lord Dilandau when he returned, and Guimel out to mobilize the interception plan as soon as he saw Lord Dilandau.
Guimel had volunteered to be the lookout, despite the dubious looks from his friends who knew what he preferred to do when he was too eager to accept sentry duty.
I guess I should have cursed and grumbled about it, but then they may have actually agreed to give me a different assignment.
Guimel wanted to be the one to catch Lord Dilandau on his way up; he wanted Lord Dilandau to know that at least one of his men hadn't lost his mind yet. Besides, he couldn't see where he could be of any help anywhere else. Dallet was fine-tuning the Silvers and the Oreades. Gatty was with Lord Dryden and General Alloju keeping up to date on the latest information, and Shesta, Miguel, and Viole were with their students.
Guimel usually got in Dallet's way when he worked with the machinery, though Dally would never say anything. Gatty didn't need anyone with him when he played leader, and he wouldn't have appreciated Guimel's company anyway. And Shesta, Miguel, and Viole...
Guimel wasn't one for pep talks, especially not to kids he'd probably never see again.
A few might make it through... but who were they kidding? Those kids needed more training than what they'd gotten. Not even creme of the crop soldiers with experience could have learned all that those kids had in such a short period of time. Guimel was proud of them; the cadets were impressive, but still not ready.
Not in his opinion.
Action in the courtyard. Guimel directed the binoculars to the opening gate. Spinning the focus, Guimel closed in on Lord Dilandau and Van crossing the threshold, holding...shopping bags?
Guimel chuckled. Lord Dilandau had gotten lucky after all; look at all that loot. General Kellogg... Kelton?– Oh whatever!– the Wind Bag guy... jogged to them and was no doubt telling Lord Dilandau Folken wanted a word with him.
Guimel had seen enough. Looping the binoculars around his neck by a string, Guimel slid off the rail and strode to the door, feeling for the tiny pocket radio Dallet had given him.
"Hey, Guimel here, Lord Dilandau's back. I'm running interference now."
"Great. The captains down here are burning holes in my ass, looking over here every few minutes. I'll let Gatty know and he'll go to the others."
"Thanks Dally."
Hand held comm-links. Dallet never failed to astound him when it came to the things he could do with a few wires and machine guts.
Lets see... what route would Lord Dilandau take? Should Guimel try to head him off or just go to their wing and catch him at the door when he got there?
After computing all of the various paths Lord Dilandau could possibly take, Guimel decided to meet him near their rooms. Folken was waiting in his own room, so unless he had Pearce out keeping watch...
Aw shit, Pearce could very well be playing sentry elsewhere.
Creepy bastard.
Guimel quickened his steps, taking a back hallway and running up two flights of stairs to skid into the Dragonslayer corridor. Keen blues eyes scanned the dark territory. Seemed like no one was home, but looks were deceiving.
"Guimel!"
Guimel jumped as a small boned hand gripped his elbow. He cringed, gritting his teeth as he turned to find Sheila glaring up at him.
Sheila, one of the breakfast cooks whom he'd neglected to tell it was over and that he was seeing Roxanne...who was claiming he was the father of her bastard...
Ai.
"Not a good time, Sheila. I'll... get down on my knees and apologize later. Please don't poison my food until then."
Note to self, do not eat any breakfast that you didn't kill, gather, or cook yourself.
Next time someone tells me a woman's no good, I'll listen.
Sheila sneered, her usually pretty face taking on an ugly light. "Later huh? Later was a few weeks ago, Guimel. What's this about you running around with that floozy Roxanne? You dumped me for her and couldn't tell me? I ought to rip your balls..."
Guimel gasped at the thought and covered her mouth with his hand. "Look, it's not like that, ok? I can explain...later. I'm working."
"Working's never stopped you before! I should have known better than to get involved with little boys."
Guimel tried not to roll his eyes. Sheila had to bring up the fact that she was 12 years his senior every time there had been a problem. Kiss my ass Sheila and get lost.
"I'm serious. Don't you know about the war? I've got a battle in the morning! Now get out of here before..."
"Guimel?"
Eep!
Guimel spun to be face to face with Lord Dilandau. "What's going on?"
"Ah, nothing!" Guimel said, swatting Sheila's hands away and glaring at her out of the corner of his eye. "Gatty is awaiting your orders sir; he's with Lord Dryden now. Lets go and..."
"I'm supposed to be talking to Folken. Doesn't he have my mission briefs? Why is Gatty with Dryden instead of Folken being with him?" Lord Dilandau frowned, curious red eyes on Sheila instead of Guimel.
Hm. Guimel realized he hadn't thought of how he was going to explain himself. It probably wasn't a good idea to anger Lord Dilandau before battle...
"Um... Lord Folken doesn't... think it's a good idea for us to join the morning team, but it's your call to make, so we're all standing by."
Lord Dilandau's eyes narrowed as he licked his lips in contemplation. "He doesn't think it's a good idea? Would he rather us go out later in the day?"
"No," Guimel said slowly, trying to gauge the captain's mood before he continued. Damn.
"He wants us to stay out of it? No...no, he wants me to stay out of it? Is that it?"
Lord Dilandau's mouth was a hard line and his eyes were ablaze in his pale face that was beginning to flush with color. "And he told the generals and Lord Dryden this, did he?"
Guimel's mouth opened and closed. He always wondered if Lord Dilandau had some sort of psychic ability, but he figured Folken's actions were pretty easy to guess.
"Hmm..." Lord Dilandau glared in the direction of Folken's room and grabbed Guimel by the arm. "Gatty's waiting for me where?"
"With Dryden in the war room, Dallet's running diagnostics on the Alseides and the others are prepping the cadets..."
"Who mobilized my cadets?"
Shit, he was pissed. Guimel was tugged along after Lord Dilandau as he started to stalk away, leaving poor Sheila to stare after them with the oddest expression on her face... like she'd seen an angel.
Oh yeah... she'd never been exposed to Lord Dilandau up close like that before.
They were almost clear of the hall, when a Folken's voice froze Lord Dilandau in his tracks. Guimel slammed into him and jumped back, gulping at the fury on his leader's face when he turned to face Folken.
"Where are you going, Dilandau? My room is this way." Folken's voice was calm, but the air around him was charged with tension.
Damn. This wasn't good at all.
"Folken..." Lord Dilandau released his firm grip on Guimel's arm and took a step towards the man.
Guimel pulled out his comm, shaking out the sore arm Lord Dilandau had let go of as he found Dallet's frequency.
"Dally, I think we got a problem."
"We can talk in my room, Dilandau," Folken was saying as Dilandau strode up to him. He caught Folken's arm as the man tried to turn and lead Dilandau to his doorway and yanked, pulling Folken to face him.
Folken didn't startle at Dilandau's motion nor shake his grip from his shoulder; he simply stood, staring Dilandau down and silently waiting for him to speak his mind.
"Did you tell Lord Dryden that I would not, no, could not under your authority, participate in battle this morning?" Dilandau demanded, tightening his hold on Folken, very thankful he hadn't grabbed the metal arm.
"Not in those exact words, Dilandau, but yes I did."
"Why?" There was no point in reminding himself to stay calm, for that was a near impossibility at the present moment. The crude combination of humiliation and the superior look on Folken's face was just too much to tolerate.
Dilandau felt himself shaking and knew Folken could feel it too through his grip. "Calm down, Dilandau," Folken's voice was low with warning. Slowly he leaned forward, until his forehead almost brushed Dilandau's. "And you know why, so I won't dignify that question with a response."
Folken's cool breath on his face infuriated Dilandau even more than his words had. He let go of Folken's arm and raised his hands to give Folken a shove, and Folken caught his arms, holding them crushingly tight.
"You're behaving childishly, Dilandau. You know everything I do and say is with your best interest in mind. I don't trust you when it comes to that."
"I don't need anyone to trust me with myself," Dilandau growled, narrowing his eyes and fighting to rip himself free of Folken. "Let me go!"
"If I let go, you're going to run off and tell Dryden you're going to war. I cannot allow that."
"I don't take orders from you!" Gods, Folken's metal fingers were biting into his skin; he could feel the flesh tearing. "What right do you have to speak for me to other people and to tell them what I can and can't do?"
"Well, Dilandau, if you had been there maybe..."
"What? Maybe what, Folken?– We could have done this in front of Lord Dryden? Bet he'd have enjoyed it!"
"You're being ridiculous! You're in no condition to..."
"And just what condition is that, Folken? What is it you're trying not to tell me? You're scaring my men, Folken... and... you're scaring me. Just say it man and let me get on with it!"
"Dilandau..." Folken's eyes went wide and he swallowed, hard. "Now is not the time; this is not the place..."
"There's never a freakin' time or a damn place, Folken! Not for this, not for me. Stop treating me like I'm some baby that can't handle anything."
"But..."
"But what?" Dilandau gasped; he was no longer seeing red, but his teeth still chattered with adrenaline induced anxiety. He wanted to burn something, throw something... And gods, Folken was hurting him. He was positive he was bleeding now. "Let go, dammit!"
"You are a baby, a child. You shouldn't have to... These are things I shouldn't have to tell you, that I don't want to tell you. If you could give me more time..."
"Do I have time, Folken? Just tell me I have time!"
"If you stay, if you listen to me..."
Dilandau was shaking his head. "No, no more of that!" He was so frustrated with Folken giving him instructions and making promises. Do as I say, take this medicine, stay behind, Dilandau... He had listened to Folken so far and here they were with Folken holding back, afraid to tell him the truth Dilandau was petrified to hear.
But...
Gods, why did he still want to hear it?
Would it put something inside him to rest?
Could he look his Slayers in the face then?
He knew. He already knew, but Folken would confirm it. Folken... could make it real.
But do I want real?
I should leave; I should go; I should run. Now wasn't time to be a man; now was time to be a boy, the boy Folken claimed he was...
"So... I'm a child, am I?"
Folken stared, his iron grip still locking Dilandau in place.
"Yes, Dilandau, regardless of how everyone treats you and what they ask of you, you're 15 years old and you need a guardian."
"Someone who knows best, huh?"
"Yes."
"And that's you?"
"Yes!"
"You're hurting me."
Folken blinked a few times, then finally realized the position of his hands on Dilandau's arms and how tightly his fingers were curled. Dilandau let out a sigh of relief when the pressure was removed and he glanced at his right sleeve to see spots of blood where crushing fingers had once been.
"I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry too," Dilandau said softly. He tentatively reached out to pat the man on the shoulder, watching Folken relax and almost smile.
"I'll be a child today then, Folken..."
Folken frowned, wheels turning...
Now, Folken wasn't one to be stumped for long.
"...and children run." Dilandau backed away, turning his head to avoid Folken's gaze. Dilandau didn't want to decipher the look in those eyes. "Guimel, get my armor. I'll be with Gatty."
Before Folken could recover and reach for him, Dilandau ran.
"Allen, gods, Allen– it was wonderful! I think... No, I know I'm in love. I didn't know if I really knew what it was, since I'm so clueless about everything else according to you. But Allen, he gives me butterflies and all of the things we did– every time he took my hand or smiled or spoke to me like one of his good friends something in me started singing! I heard music! Oh, and you should see his artwork! We went to this ink parlor and I was too scared to get a tattoo and he convinced the guy at the shop to let him do a... he called it a 'dye job'... on my chest! Uh... well I can't exactly show it to you here..." Van looked around the hangar warily at all of the men bustling by with equipment and weapons. "But after this..."
"Van." Van jumped as Allen took his shoulders and shook him. "Look at me."
Van stared at the blond man before him, frowning at the serious set of his face and the gravity in his cornflower eyes. "Wha...?"
"The first official battle of the war is starting in a few hours, Van. The war. I'm glad you had fun on your date; I'm happy you got to have one, but it's time for work now. I need you to be serious." Allen's voice was light but stern. He let Van go with a sigh, after studying the crestfallen expression that had to be all over Van's face. "After this is over, I'll hear about it, Van."
Van smiled, wanting to hug Allen for being so... Van couldn't think of the word he was looking for. What he felt for Allen wasn't just gratitude for being helpful or kind; it was more than that, much more. It was almost like what he had felt for... for Folken a long time ago in Fanelia, back when Folken was still his brother.
Allen was like a brother. Van wondered if Allen felt the same for him? He could find that out easily. Hesitantly Van wrapped his arms around Allen, resting his head against his chest for a moment and hearing his heartbeat.
If he pushes me away...
Strong arms enclosed around him briefly, patting his back and running a quick hand through his hair, before giving him a little tap to let go.
"You're welcome, Van," Allen whispered, but he didn't say what for and Van could sense it had nothing to do with the dating advice.
"Is Escaflowne ready?" Van asked, stepping back and blushing at the attention they were receiving from a few men.
"Yes," Allen nodded. "We've already placed it aboard the Crusade, unless you wanted to fly out ahead."
"I'll probably scout out ahead. The Crusade has no real defenses against aerial attack," Van said. "And it would be better if both of us didn't have to be dropped from the hatch. Too much of a delay."
"Hm," Allen touched his chin thoughtfully. He turned to stare at his airship and his men hard at work making sure everything was intact and set for departure. "Do you know if Dilandau is going to join us?"
"Huh?" Van frowned, scratching his head. "If he wants to ride in the Crusade? I don't think he would. He likes piloting too much."
"No, Van. Is he planning on leading his men into battle. There was a dispute about it before. Lord Folken doesn't think it's a good idea..."
"Folken? What does he have to do with anything?" Folken was starting to irritate Van and he wasn't even in the room. "Dilandau's gone to meet with him, but I don't see any reason why he wouldn't give orders to mobilize his unit. Our students will be out there."
"Are those kids truly ready, Van?" Allen asked after a beat. "Gatty says they are, but..."
"They're as ready as they'll ever be. They are the best we could train and they are better than a lot of the other men that have been training for years, but..."
"But?"
"I don't think Dilandau would agree with me."
Allen nodded once. "They'll serve their country well."
"Just how bad do you think this thing is going to be Allen?"
Van was trying not to feel fear. He wanted to fight and he'd been given great power to do so. It was his job to protect and defend and he was damn good at it, but... a war? His first war.
What would it be like? He'd fought battles, but they had felt like climbing the rickety, wooden ladder to a tall slide. Van was at the top now, looking at how high he'd been brave enough to climb and considering the plunge.
He could still turn back and climb down, but people were looking up at him now; they needed to see him go first before they'd follow.
Van couldn't let them down.
"Lord Van!" Van braced himself as Merle glomped onto his back. He hadn't heard her coming over the noise of the room.
"Merle," Van gasped as the wind was knocked out of him. He giggled as Merle rubbed her furry cheek against his smooth one. "What are you doing up?"
"Are you kidding?" Merle hopped down. "Who could sleep through all of this... or her?" Merle's voice dipped as she tugged Van's leather sleeve and gestured to the side.
Hitomi stood next to Allen; she'd appeared as swiftly as Merle had with no warning. Her face was pale and grim, her green eyes large and haunted.
"Hitomi, what are you doing here?" Allen asked, taking the girl's hands carefully. "You don't look well. You should be in bed."
Van rolled his eyes. Allen could be such a hen. "Hitomi, have you had another vision?"
Those were always helpful and it was nice when the girl pulled her weight every once in a while.
Hitomi focused on Van, frowning. "No. I haven't had another vision, and I don't plan to either. I've stopped that."
Oh? Van raised a brow. Once again, the girl sounded like she was on the verge of a breakdown. How many breakdowns could a person have in the course of a day? He was sure Hitomi held some sort of record.
"So, what are you doing here? Come to see us off?" Allen let go of her hands and they fell to her sides, curling into small fists.
"I don't want you to fight, either of you," she fumed.
"But Hitomi..." Allen began, bewildered by her mood and Van felt Merle nudge him in the side.
"See what I mean?" she hissed in his ear. "Why do I always get stuck with her? She creeps me out."
Van wanted to chuckle, but the heat of Hitomi's glare discouraged him.
"Hitomi, I have to protect my country. We're fighting for the fate of Gaea. You know this. Van and I..."
"Are going to kill people!" Hitomi shouted. "How can you do it? How can you stand it?"
"Hitomi, calm down," Van said gently, moving toward her and stretching out a hand. Maybe if he held her hand... but then again, it hadn't worked out very well when Allen had done it.
Hitomi backed away, shaking her head, eyes full of tears. "Please don't go, Van. Please..."
Van was truly confused now. Don't go? But... "Hitomi, I have to. I have people to protect, people like you and Merle. The Escaflowne is vital to bringing an end to this war..."
There was no right thing to say to the distraught girl. She covered her face, weeping as Merle groaned and rolled her eyes. Van wanted to do the same, but it wouldn't be very becoming of him. He thanked whatever god had been assigned to his pitiful case, when his attention had been steered away from Hitomi and toward Dilandau. He was easier to deal with. If he was bored, give him a book, if he was hungry toss him an apple, if he seemed frustrated, give him a sword.
Thank the gods and goddesses for making men such simple creatures. Women were so... ugh, or maybe it was just Hitomi.
"Good thing you don't like her anymore, Lord Van," Merle was saying to him coyly, and Van jumped, glaring at her lightly. He'd almost forgotten she was there as he stared at Hitomi lost in thought.
"I do like Hitomi, Merle! That was mean of you to say." Van chewed his bottom lip. He was responsible for Hitomi; he had to see her home safely. Anyone he still felt such a sense of duty for had to be somewhat likeable. Though, gazing at the snot faced girl now with Allen trying to smooth her hair and comfort her, he was finding it quite hard and maybe a little repulsive.
"Not like that anymore," the cat girl insisted with a secret smirk and Van frowned.
"What are you getting at?"
Merle stood on her toes to whisper in his ear, "Personally, I like your new choice better, even if he's the ex-blood thirsty, psychopath and current jerk that torched our homeland."
She knew?
She knew!
"How did you...?"
"The contact sheet gave it away."
"You went through my things?" Oh my.
Van hadn't meant to say that so loudly. He suddenly found himself the center of everyone within a 10 meter radius' attention. Van gave a nervous titter and waved shyly, before grabbing Merle by a naughty hand.
"I can't believe you went through my stuff!"
"Van, what's gotten you so worked up?" Allen was staring at him as he offered Hitomi a handkerchief. Hitomi took the dainty white cloth and dabbed at her red eyes.
"N...nothing!" Van said hurriedly. He hadn't told Allen about his list and he didn't want Hitomi knowing about it either. By the gods... if Merle knew, did that mean Hitomi knew as well?
"I've got something to take care of... outside. See you in a minute. Um... I...uh...hope you feel better Hitomi." Van dug a toe into the stone floor and met her teary gaze. Girls sure knew how to make a man feel guilty. He sighed deeply, running a gloved hand through his hair. "Ah... Maybe we can talk after I get back. We haven't done that in a while."
Hitomi's face brightened a bit, thin lips curling into a tiny semblance of a smile. "O...ok, Van."
Van smiled at her and looked to Allen, brows drawing together at the stormy expression thundering behind his eyes. "Ah... I'll be back. Come on, Merle."
Van gave Merle a tug and the girl giggled, skipping along beside him and linking her arm through his. They ducked just outside of the hangar where they could still here the clamber of men and tools in the background.
"Merle..."
"Lord Van," Merle shushed him, moving to stand in front of him. "I didn't go through your stuff. I know you don't like it. You left it sitting out and I put it away for you."
Van gasped. How careless was that? What if a maid had come in and seen it, or worse...Dilandau himself. "I... t...thanks." But what did it mean? Merle was being completely normal. Did that mean she was ok with it, or was she just being a girl and about to have a strange mood swing and start ranting at him?
"Lord Van, how long?"
Van blinked, staring at his childhood companion. "I don't know, a few months. Ever since you guys rescued me from that airship, I haven't been able to get him off my mind."
Merle sighed, taking both Van's hands and leaning into his chest plate. "I thought you were nuts for liking Hitomi, and now I think you're positively crazy for going after someone we should by all means hate, Lord Van. But... I don't know, watching you and seeing how happy you seem, maybe you're crazy for all the right reasons."
Watching me? "Merle?"
"You glow, Lord Van. Ever since that boy got here and started talking to you like a real person, this light came on that I haven't seen in a long time. I thought one day, well, that maybe I could be the one who did that for you. When Hitomi first got here, and I saw how you acted around her, I was afraid she'd be the one and you'd forget me. I want to be jealous, but I like seeing you so bubbly. You're like me now. You giggle!"
Van's mouth fell open. Merle? Little Merle had wanted to...?
He gasped as she nipped his ear. "Oh come off it, Lord Van. You know it's every castle maid's dream to marry the handsome prince they serve one day. But you know what, I can settle for being your friend. I mean, I have been for this long."
"Merle, you're more than a friend," Van said, wrapping his arms around her warm, compact body and squeezing tight. "You're the little sister I never had."
His eyes were burning, but tears were no good. Ruffling her hair, he pushed Merle away gently as she purred. "You're really ok with this? Not just with me...liking a guy, but with it being, you know who?"
He was still hesitant to say the name; castle's had many eyes and ears and the last thing he needed was to start something after the spectacle that had been made over he and Dilandau walking in together. And then there was their outing and Dilandau telling all ears that would listen that he was Van's paramour. Dilandau thought it was funny, but he had no idea the rumors he was giving birth too.
Or maybe he did and didn't care.
Gods, Dilandau was a puzzle box, a brain-teasing enigma that Van wanted to figure out piece by piece.
Merle shrugged. "Actually, it makes me feel a little better about myself, you know? After trying all these years to get your attention and failing, I finally know there's nothing wrong with me. So I'm fine with you being into guys. I mean, it's hard to compete with that. With a girl, you can say: What does she have that I don't? With a boy, the answer to the question is obvious and there's nothing you can do about it. Nothing normal anyway."
"And what about it being... him?" Van pressed nervously. "You said you're glad that I'm happy, but still... how do you feel about him?"
Merle blinked. "I trust you, Lord Van, and you wouldn't like anyone that was all bad and you certainly wouldn't fall so hard for someone that doesn't have something to him. I don't know him very well, Van. I see so little of him and that's usually when he's working. But the people who come in contact with him regularly have nothing but good things to say, and... I want to meet him, Van!"
Van started at Merle's large grin. "Next time you take him out on a date you take me too! We'll all go out, and then we can gossip and tell secrets about you behind your back!"
Van shook his head, gapping at her gall. He tickled her without mercy, laughing along with her as she pushed at his hands and tried to get away from him. Silly girl and wow...
He'd really missed this and her. Just being silly and talking about anything and everything...
He thought those days were gone, but maybe they could be returned with the end of the war.
This was what he was fighting for, times to be silly and carefree, times to not have to worry about who was going attack who, and who had the better killing machine. When Zaibach was destroyed there would be many dates and sweets and laughter. Fanelia could be rebuilt and... maybe Van would invite Dilandau and his men to help. They could live there and protect...no wait, after they won there would be no need for protection anymore.
They would play, and... and Van would ask Dilandau to stay...with him.
Van grinned at Merle as she skipped back into the hangar, promising to take Hitomi to her room and look after her.
He felt so good.
He stepped back into the room of grunting men, some taking breaks and joking with one another, greeting Van with sharp nods and crooked smiles.
"Ahem! May I have your attention please? We have a go! The Dragonslayers are in this game, so you monkeys can stop wearing holes in my ass with your eyes and get some freakin' work done!" Dallet stood atop a silver Alseid with both hands cupped around his mouth to amplify the sound of his voice.
The room erupted in cheers, hoots, and whistles.
"We're gonna send those Zaibach bastards back to hell!" Someone yelled.
"Yeah!"
Van chuckled, adding a whistle of his own to the chaos of victory already claimed.
To the end of the war!– and to the beginning of everything else!
"Viole, I need your help with something."
Viole's head jerked up at the sound of his captain's voice. He sat with his legs crossed under him, head bowed as he waited for Lord Dilandau to change into his armor. Lord Dryden had allowed them the use of his own lavatory, when Guimel had brought in Lord Dilandau's uniform.
Viole stood up, stretching his arms and legs. The hard marble floor hadn't been exactly comfortable. He supposed he could have sat on one of plush couches, but then he would have gone to sleep.
His body just wasn't used to being woken at all hours of the night anymore. On the Vione, Lord Dilandau had ordered them up at all hours of the night, preparing them for battle at any time. Viole could run off of 30 minutes of sleep, his body had been so well trained then, but now... gah. He needed at least 4 hours.
Miguel had offered him coffee, until he realized who he was talking to and hid the supply from Viole. Viole snorted at the memory as he trudged past the blue couches. Couches in the bathroom, reminds me of Mother dearest, except she actually went as far as to have a daybed and full canopy. With bathrooms like these, who needs bedrooms?
Viole turned the corner, pushing open the partial doors modeled after those he'd seen in saloons. Nice... he wanted some for his bathroom if he ever lost his mind and thought to make it as big as a bedroom with rooms and furniture inside it.
Lord Dilandau stood with his back to the large mirror over the silver double sink counter, clothed in only the blue leather pants of his Astorian garb. His red eyes glittered as Viole came to stand in front of him.
"What is it?"
He's lost more weight. Viole tried not to stare at how much more pronounced his rib cage was or the fading red marks along his thin arms.
Poor Lord Dilandau.
But that wasn't what he wanted to hear at all, whether it be spoken or unspoken, and Viole respected that. No man wanted pity.
When Viole died, he didn't even want a funeral, because it would give people reason to come together and dwell on their loss. In fact, maybe he'd go away before he died, so no one would ever know it happened. He'd just be missing in action; that way Viole Castelloni would be a mystery not a tragedy.
"I need you to hold this," Lord Dilandau shoved a moist face-cloth that he'd cut in half and a roll of gauze tape in Viole's hands, "against something on my back and tape it in place."
"Are you h... woah!" Lord Dilandau turned around to snatch his shirt off the sink and Viole saw the palm-sized winged serpent uncoiling from the loose waistband of his pants. Hues of blue and green were swirled in a mesmerizing dance of paint blends, and Viole moved to touch it. Was it real?
Lord Dilandau's hiss of pain answered that question.
"Don't poke it!"
"You got this done with Van, didn't you? Did he get one? You guys went off and got tattoos and didn't tell me? I want a tattoo! Did it hurt? I heard getting it on your back hurts like hell! But it's so cool looking! Where'd you go to get it done? The artist did a smoking job. Look at that; looks real...like it could strike..."
"Viole!"
"Oh!" Viole grinned sheepishly, shaking out the cloth and dutifully covering the tattoo and the slightly reddened area around it. He carefully applied the gauze tape and patted the job lightly when he was finished. "Um... you want to put the rest of the towel or something else over it for extra padding? It looked kinda tender."
"Not tender enough for you not to stab your fingers into it," Lord Dilandau grumbled, pulling his shirt over his head. Viole moved his hands as cool silk toppled over his fingertips. He stood back as Lord Dilandau swung his overcoat over his shoulders. "Tie it loosely in back for me, Viole."
Viole nodded, helping his captain straighten the light coat of armor and get it situated over his shoulders before pulling the leather straps to tighten it. "Tell me when it gets too tight."
"Keep pulling."
Viole gave another yank, getting the odd feel of tightening a woman's corset. Lord Dilandau's waist was so narrow. "Enough."
"Alright." He tied pulled the straps through the buckles, wrapping them around a few times and tying them. "We really should look into having this thing resized. It's too big."
"I'm too skinny," Lord Dilandau corrected him. "It fit when we first had it made."
Viole sighed, ruffling Lord Dilandau's hair. "Yeah, it did."
"Viole..." Lord Dilandau's voice was small and Viole closed his eyes, dipping his chin onto Lord Dilandau's shoulder.
"Yeah buddy?"
"Are you ready, Viole? For war, I mean."
Viole could feel his friend's tremors and he took a deep breath, before giving an answer to his interpretation of the question.
"Is anyone ever ready?" He looped his arms around his waist, smiling lightly as Lord Dilandau relaxed against him. "For war, I mean."
Lord Dilandau swallowed. "No, probably not. I'm not anyway and... I don't want to be, so..."
"Maybe we shouldn't go?" Viole raised a brow, cracking one eye open to peer at Lord Dilandau's profile.
Lord Dilandau shook his head. "No, we have to. We don't get a choice in this, you know? Folken tried to give us one, but it didn't work. He really tried, though."
"Yeah buddy, he did." Viole carefully turned with Lord Dilandau and led him from the wash area back into the powder room that housed the couches. He sat down with Lord Dilandau, curling to accommodate for the other boy as he crumbled in Viole's lap.
Viole held him, rocking him gently and tangling his fingers in thick silver hair. The only sound heard from either boy was the creaking of their leather uniforms as one moved to comfort and the other yielded to be comforted.
Slowly, Lord Dilandau pulled away from Viole, sitting up. His milky face was dry, but his eyes were so heavy with turmoil Viole almost fell over into his lap. "You want to go now?"
Not "Are you ready?"
"Only if you want to, sir. We can stay here a little longer. There's no rush. I kinda like it in here. It's quiet."
The tiniest glimmer of a smile shone on his captain's face and a silent "thank you," swam to the surface of the grief pool that were his eyes. "Let's stay."
"Alright."
Viole slumped back into the couch pillows, losing himself in their softness. It felt like reclining on clouds. Why couldn't his bed feel this good? He shut his eyes and grunted in light surprise as the weight of another fell against his shoulder and side.
Viole turned his head slightly, opening his eyes to see Lord Dilandau beside him, staring at him. "Viole?"
"Yeah buddy?"
"Can I talk to you?"
Viole blinked. "Of course."
Are you ready, Viole?
No.
Valeska hummed to herself as she waited for the order to mobilize. The harbor looked so boring from here, so blue, so peaceful. It would look better in red, blood red... fire red...
She chuckled to herself as her eyes painted in the needed colors from the bridge of Delate's hangar.
Delate hadn't turned out to be so bad after all. Adelphos hadn't given her anymore good for nothing soldiers to train and he was no longer trying to tell her what she couldn't do. She was given battle coordinates and she was allowed to do as she saw fit.
She'd turned East Astoria into a beautiful masterpiece of bloody ashes. It was a much needed improvement, but she got the vague impression that the Astorians were angry about it.
Oh well, what did those idiots know about art anyway? They should be thanking her for cleansing that awful area, too many aristocrats and stone houses. In fact, she would demand a formal sign of gratitude when she got to the castle. Maybe she'd have old King Aston write her a nice card and sign it... in blood.
She laughed outright at that idea, startling a few soldiers that hurried by her, throwing nervous glances at her over their shoulders.
She grinned at them barbarically. Wimps.
"Lord Valeska."
Valeska tamed her grin into a friendly smile as she turned to greet Jajuka. "Jajuka! Have you brought my orders?"
"Yes sir," the beast man nodded. "We're to launch in 10 minutes."
"Any formation?"
"Not for you, sir."
"Excellent. Come Jajuka, I want to be the first out of the hangar, so we'll have to reposition our guymelefs."
"Yes sir."
Valeska chuckled, taking Jajuka's arm and pushing him in front of her to hurry him along. Everything was moving much too slowly! The fight of their lives was about to begin and no one seemed excited about it but her.
What was wrong with these people?
She bet Dilandau was excited.
Dilandau was down there, waiting.
Valeska paused beside her Alseid, shoving the chubby mechanic that was shaking his head at her and waving her away.
"I'm not finished with..."
"Get lost, loser, before I put my sword up your blubbery ass."
She smirked as the man's eyes widened in fear and he backed away from her, breaking into a run as soon as he was out of sword-swinging distance.
That's better. She climbed up the chunky legs of her guymelef and into its belly, plopping down in her piloting chair and propping her feet up on the control board.
She picked her nails with a small dagger from her belt as delightful images of a rematch with Dilandau played in her mind's eye.
Their first duel had been a fluke; the time was wrong; the set was off, but this time– this time everything was just right.
Valeska could already smell the copper and sulfur of victory, a victory already claimed.
I'm ready, Dilandau. Are you?
Allen frowned as the Crusade circled the harbor again. No sign of anything suspicious. Had they been fooled? Maybe Zaibach had decided to attack elsewhere; which would be wonderful for them because all of Astoria's aid was en route to Palas.
"I'm picking up some energist feedback. Permission to switch on tracker?""
Allen blinked as the voice of one of Dilandau's men crackled over the updated comm system Gaddes' had let be installed on the Crusades' bridge. It was very strange to hear pieces of others' conversations and to know that they could hear you, if they wanted to tune in.
"Granted. Relay your readings to network, Dallet."
"Sir."
Dilandau and his Slayers seemed to be the best of friends outside of battle, but inside there was an air of professionalism that Allen could never dream of obtaining with his men.
"Floating fortress approaching harbor from the east and will be over the bay in T-10 minutes."
"Their Alseides are coming online... I count at least..."
"Eighty-six," Dilandau breathed. "Eighty-six is fine."
"Damn, card-counting cheater."
Allen started at Gaddes' sudden presence right beside him. Allen stood on the bridge, staring out into the blueness of the calm waters of the ocean. "What?"
"Nothing," Gaddes shrugged, gazing out at the sea serenely and placing a hand on Allen's shoulder. "You got orders for us, Boss?"
"Dragonslayers, surround the fortress in sphere formation and fold in as Alseides are dropped. We will take out the first wave. Schezar, you and your people have what follows. Dragonslayers will aid when we've finished with our lot."
Allen scowled, almost growling. The brat had been listening when Gaddes had asked for orders and had given them for Allen.
Who did he think he was?
Gaddes' chuckle brought him back to the bridge. "Lord Dryden put him charge for this one, Boss and you let him. Try not to look so supportive of your decision."
Allen snorted, rolling his eyes at Gaddes. This was all one big joke to him and the rest of his crew. They followed Dilandau's orders as obediently as they followed Allen's, and it made him a little...jealous that someone else could command as much respect from his rag tag team of loyal men as he did.
Gaddes slapped his back heartily, shaking his head and laughing at something on Allen's face. "Don't worry, Boss. We ain't switching loyalties or anything, but I don't know... something about Silver Boss reminds us of you; which makes him easier to tolerate when he starts giving orders."
Allen stared at Gaddes as if he'd lost all reason. Something about Dilandau made his men think of him? Ridiculous.
"We have nothing in common." Allen narrowed his eyes and folded his arms over his chest as Dilandau's Silver team and his red bellied Oreades swept into view. "Enough talk; we're wasting time. Prepare the hatch to drop Scherazade."
"I hear an awful lot of chit-chat in there, Schezar. I hope preparing for battle isn't spoiling your conversation."
Allen wanted to rip the two-way communicator from the deck and throw it through the windows and out to sea. "Mind your business, Dilandau and watch where you're flying! The last thing I need is to have to save you."
"You do owe me," Dilandau purred.
"Activity in the hangar... they're launching early, sir. They've sensed us."
"Talk to you later, Schezar. Some of us have work to do."
Allen fumed and glared at Gaddes as he snickered and stifled the fit a second too late. "Two minutes, then open the hatch."
"Yessir."
Allen walked with his fists balled up at his sides with Gaddes guffaws at his back.
They'd numbered the first 45 enemy Alseides as they'd exited the hangar and divvied them up, about six per man. Numbers One and Thirty-nine had broken the circle and dropping into the waters of the harbor. "Two touched down, sir! Dallet reported dutifully, though he was sure Lord Dilandau had already noticed.
"It's ok; we've met our quota. Let the rest hit the harbor. Our hands are full up here."
Dallet nodded. He'd been assigned numbers Thirteen through Eighteen.
If they kept 43 men engaged in the air, the ground forces only had to worry about 43. That was unless...
"Six broke away; he's touching down."
Dallet growled in his throat, blowing damp hair out of his eyes. He'd just trimmed his bangs a week ago, dammit. There was something about Astoria and rapid hair growth. Maybe it was in the water, but at this rate he'd have locks to his butt like Schezar.
Gah.
"Nine and Eight are out of commission, working on Seven!"
"I've got Nineteen, Twenty-one, and Twenty-two out."
Gatty and Shesta were really kicking ass. Every few minutes they announced new statistics of Alseides they'd desecrated while all Dallet and the others seemed to be doing was announcing escapes and damages.
They were really trying to make it up to him.
After that talk, Dallet couldn't help but feel sorry for his comrades. Gatty and Shesta always tried to do right by everyone, but sometimes they overlooked the simple things that could get them in trouble. Dallet had known for a long time, since they'd left the Vione, that Lord Dilandau was...
Well, he was like them. He was a great leader, an incredible warrior, and so smart it blew Dallet's mind at times, but... he was no longer a god or a master to Dallet. He was a comrade, and comrades were proud, they got scared, they did stupid things to cover fear with bravado– they needed comfort.
Sometimes the others forgot; it was easy to when Lord Dilandau was in a place like Astoria with older people and fresh cadets looking at him with reverence in their eyes. It was like back on the Vione with everyone acknowledging Lord Dilandau was the best of the best...
And forgetting he was a kid, or maybe never knowing at all.
If someone told Dallet he was going to die, he would deny to the end and scream all the way to hell.
Gatty and Shesta meant well; they did, and Dallet couldn't get mad at them as Guimel had, but geez... And then there was Folken– Guimel had told him about that.
The smartest decision made was to back down, and Viole was the one to instate it. He'd come out of Lord Dryden's bathroom with Lord Dilandau and didn't leave his side, except to say "He'll tell you when he's ready," to the rest of them.
"Four and Three are out." Miguel sounded winded.
"Status, Miguel?"
"Puncture to the left flank. I need a shadow."
"I'll do it," Lord Dilandau volunteered. "Twenty-six, Twenty-seven, Twenty-eight, Twenty-nine, Thirty, and Thirty-two are out."
Damn. Forget Gatty and Shesta, Lord Dilandau was kicking serious ass.
Dallet grimaced as his Silver was struck in the chest and he went spiraling into the Alseid behind him, upsetting its balance. They both spiraled toward the bay, hitting the water with a loud splash. Dammit! The circle was broken! He'd let them break the circle!
Dallet thrashed in the water, using already lengthened and firmed claws to slash the melef he'd brought down with him in its vitals organs. Sluggish liquid metal blood polluted the clean waters, and Dallet threw the throttle of his Silver upward, surging out of the water like porpoise and spiraling into the sky, taking down two enemies plunging down toward him. "Sixteen, Fifteen, and Eighteen are out."
"Twenty-three out!"
Dallet wondered when he'd be ready.
He thrust a claw forward. "Twenty-one out!"
Maybe never.
But did it really matter?
He spun, bashing in the head of Thirty-three. "Thirty-three gone!"
Dallet didn't understand why talking and making plans were so important to some people. He liked doing things on a whim or because he felt like it. He and Guimel were always into something, constantly finding new things they knew nothing about and throwing themselves in without checking to see if there was land below.
He severed the head of Thirteen and ran Eleven through. "Thirteen and Eleven out for the count."
It was Dallet's idea to sail. Neither of them had ever thought on it before, but after spending a night on the beach and watching the boats pass, that was all they had thought about since.
Open sea meant adventure, uncharted territory, new experiences, and the mysterious unknown that made Dallet's nerves tingle with anticipation.
Guimel had suggested that they take Lord Dilandau with them.
"Thirty-eight and Forty-three are out!"
The circle was fanning out as Alseides they hadn't tagged were allowed passage, forty units hit the waters and scattered below heading to shore where the Astorian troops including Allen Schezar and Van Fanel lay in wait.
Lord Dilandau had sent the cadets back to their training hall.
They weren't needed, he'd said.
"Holy shit look at what they're doing on shore!"
"Thirty-six down..."
The sky was clearing, all of their opponents nearly gone. Dallet spared another quick glance at the shore and gasped at the Alseides torching buildings on the dock.
"Miguel, Viole, finish cleaning up; the rest of you follow me!"
"Yessir!"
Dallet dove after his comrades, whooping at the speed of the drop and wanting to repeat the action.
"Stop goofing around, Dallet," Gatty hissed over his comm and Dallet sneered, looking for the switch to lock Gatty out of his two way frequency. There were perks to being a mechanic.
They hovered above the water, cruising to shore. A few Alseides turned to face them, wanting to fence them in the gulf and prevent them from joining their allies.
Didn't they see what happened in the sky?
"Spread out, I want one straight line for Wheel maneuver."
Ooh, they hadn't done that one outside of practice.
Dallet fell into place, straightening the trunk of his Alseid and waiting for Lord Dilandau's command. "And..." The enemy Alseides neared the edges of the docks, extending liquid metal swords. Their booster engines flared and they rose a foot or more into the air, about to blast forward toward them...
"Now!"
As a unit they rotated, the straight line they'd formed becoming a long arm that swung around and batted their opponents into the harbor behind the Silvers and placing them on the shores. "Visors down; get back!"
Dallet had already pulled down his visor and was in motion, getting out of the way of Lord Dilandau's flamethrower.
"Danger zone Miguel and Viole!"
"Yessir!"
Dallet didn't have to look back to see if things had gone according to plan for Lord Dilandau's wicked laughter said it all.
Dallet threw himself at a Zaibach Alseid, drawing it into a duel as his sensors went crazy. What the... He blinked as he took down his opponent, frowning at the readings he was receiving.
"Lord Dilandau!"
He was still cackling. "What Dallet?"
"Another fortress is approaching!"
"Miguel, Viole, fall in! There's no use fighting a fresh wave in the air now. Form a blockade and I'll cook as many as I can before they reach land!"
Dallet chuckled. He loved when Lord Dilandau talked like that, like they couldn't lose.
It wasn't in his vocabulary.
But he'd tell them when it was...
So anyway, Guimel suggested that they bring Lord Dilandau with them when they went sailing.
"Here they come!"
Dallet thought it was a great idea.
It was a good time of year for an ocean voyage, and Dallet was sure that Lord Dilandau was ready... to get away.
They'd ask when it was over.
They were fighting like amateurs or so it seemed compared to the Dragonslayers. They'd taken down more than half of the enemy forces in air and on shore. Perhaps Allen hadn't needed to come out at all. He stepped back as the Zaibach Alseid in front of him fell, pulling Scherazade's sword from its chest.
So far he'd taken down 5 men, and he'd lost track of Van through the flames the first battalion's foot soldiers were busy trying to put out while avoiding Zaibach's stomping feet. Allen whirled at the sound of men screaming, a purple melef flew straight up into the air and was going to bring the weight of his body down on the water tower, collapsing the structure onto the second battalion foot soldiers being fenced in by two blue melefs.
Not if Allen could help it. He rushed onto the scene, leaping and intercepting the purple giant before it could touch ground. "Van! I need your assistance in sector two."
"I've got my hands full, Allen," Van grunted, his voice strained over the comm. "Escaflowne's covered in that sticky gunk Zaibach's spraying and I'm trying to get it off."
Great.
Allen and the purple giant tumbled a few times as they hit the ground, and Allen managed to end up on top. He tried to deliver a quick punch to the melef's head and leapt up, still needing to clear the scene of the other two Alseides threatening his allies.
Scherazade toppled forward from the massive blow to the back it took. Allen didn't have time to gasp as he went down, biting his tongue and tasting blood.
"You're either very brave or incredibly stupid to challenge me again, Schezar."
That voice... The melef... It was– what was his name? The boy that had killed Duke Freid... Valeska! "Did you really miss me that much?"
Allen was pinned down by the heavy foot of the purple giant.
"To tell you the truth..."
Allen grimaced at the dying cries of desperate men in their final moments. He couldn't see; Scherazade's face was in the dirt and he received no visuals, which was probably a good thing.
He didn't want to gaze at his failure.
"...I'd forgotten all about you," Valeska continued as if nothing was happening, like she couldn't hear the screams. "But, as I recall, you were a decent opponent once. Maybe I should let you up and give you another chance to face me."
Allen growled, struggling to throw Valeska off and regain his footing. He had to get off the ground!
"But this time there will be no dragons to save you." He chuckled throatily. "I should probably just kill you here and save you the embarrassment."
Dammit. Zaibach had no honor! Valeska had struck from behind and would kill him while he had no chance of fighting back. Allen would have at least allowed his opponent a chance to turn and face him, and he would never hit from behind.
It was a symbol of cowardice.
"You're a coward, Valeska."
Allen grunted as the pressure of Valeska's foot on Scherazade's back began to press into his own.
"What did you call me?" Valeska's voice had risen an octave, making him sound rather feminine.
"You... are... a... coward!" Allen shouted, gasping after each word as the pressure increased. How long until Valeska crushed him?
Allen sucked in a deep breath of relief when the foot was taken from his back then groaned as it was only replaced by a metal knee. Valeska seized hold of the back of Scherazade's head, and Allen braced himself as the head was thrust into the ground over and over.
"What did you call me? I'm giving you a chance to take it back!"
Allen was silent, swallowing the blood that still pooled in his mouth and closing his eyes against the stars and flashes of light flooding his vision. He wasn't going to say another word to the enemy. He would die in silence. Though it stung that Allen Schezar, Knight of Heaven, would fall to a lowly bastard like Valeska. A death without honor...
Allen gave a small yelp as Scherazade was flipped over onto its side, but sighed when he realized he was free of Valeska's grip. He moved Scherazade's head cautiously, hoping Valeska hadn't damaged anything, to get a visual of the field. What had happened, and more importantly, where was the enemy?
"How dare you interrupt me? Don't you people ever get tired of getting in my way!" Valeska was shouting. His guymelef was getting to its feet and shooting out spires of liquid metal that hardened into two swords.
"Well, well...if it isn't, my Valentine. If I had known you were going to be here, I would have sent you a message to meet me privately."
Allen started at the sound of Dilandau's voice, but he couldn't see him. The Oreades must have been behind him. He was talking to Valeska like an old friend. Were they friends?
Maybe the Dragonslayers hadn't broken all of their ties with Zaibach and still had comrades within the enemy ranks. If so, would Dilandau betray Astoria so not to fight his friend?
From what he'd seen of the boy, friendship was very important to him.
Great good gods.
Allen needed to send out an alert. Did his radio still work?
"Dilan, dear? Is that you? It's been ages!"
Static and fuzz. Damn, damn, damn!
"You want to pick this up where we left off?" Dilandau asked coyly.
"No, not today, darling. I want to start fresh. Let me show you my new toy!"
Allen's eyes widened as the mouth of the purple melef opened and a canon of some sort peeped from its lips. An arc of golden rusty liquid spewed forth, drops of it falling to the earth and eating away at whatever it touched.
Acid, it was some sort of acid, and Scherazade was in its path.
He couldn't move. The joints had locked!– but suddenly he felt something lifting him and hurling him out of the way. He caught a glimpse of the Oreades as he toppled behind it. "If you can move, Schezar, I suggest you do so now."
Dilandau.
So he wasn't defecting?
"Oh...look at what I've done to your pretty red breast plate. Looks like I melted the color off. Let me help you fix it!"
Van's heart leapt into his throat as he peered down at the purple mecha sending a claw spiraling toward Dilandau's chest. The hand of Dilandau's Oreades came up, catching the claw and letting it spin in its hand like a drill. Without warning, Dilandau blasted forward, extending a claw of his own into the purple mecha's side.
The purple giant's arm was withdrawn and the drill changed shape, hardening into a sword that Dilandau replicated. In a flurry of motion, the duel began, a frightening display of skills Van hoped he'd never be called upon to show.
Allen was struggling to his knees behind the altercation, Scherazade looking worse for wear, and Van landed the Escaflowne beside him. Hopping off the dragon's back as Escaflowne began its transformation. He slid inside the hatch, locking his limbs in place before turning to rush into battle.
Van had to help Dilandau! He'd fought that lavender Alseid before and it was no joke. The pilot inside knew what he was doing.
It had been like... like fighting a Dilandau with no control; almost like when he'd been aboard the Vione, and he'd fought Dilandau face to face for the first time.
"Allen, are you alright?"
Dilandau might not need his help after all, but Allen wasn't looking so good.
"I'm fine," Allen called back, his voice hoarse. "Scherazade needs a few minutes to come back online. Can you...?"
"Of course." Van moved to shield Scherazade until it could function well enough to get out of ground zero.
"Look at the way they fight." Escaflowne helped Scherazade to its feet.
The Oreades and purple Alseid met each other blow for blow, step for step. It was a brutal ballet, two dance partners arguing over who would lead the waltz. As they twirled and pirouetted they shouted taunts and jeers at each other like old buddies.
"You've gotten a lot better, Valeska. Looks like somebody's been practicing since the last time I kicked her ass!" Dilandau was laughing.
Her? The pilot of the purple mecha was a woman?
"As I recall, that fight was never finished Dilan dearest; that's quite the ego you've got there, claiming victories before you've actually won."
Dilandau snorted. "We professionals do that all the time when we know we're up against amateurs like you, Val."
"Funny. One thing I can say, Dilan, is that your jokes have improved," Valeska chuckled. "Wonder if you'll still be making them after I finish you off."
"Good gods, how can they talk so much and still concentrate on what they're doing?" Van wondered aloud. He'd never known Dilandau to talk very much during combat except to give the occasional instruction.
"Ha!"
Dilandau missed a down block and Valeska scored a hit, stabbing deep into the shoulder of the Oreades. Van gasped, trying to move the Escaflowne forward, but being stopped by Scherazade's now working hand. "No, Van. Look."
Valeska tried to retract her claw. Something was happening. Steam was rising from the body of the Oreades and Valeska's metal sword was melting, reducing back to its liquid metal state and pouring from Dilandau's wound to the ground uselessly. Dilandau punched straight forward, sending Valeska flying back in surprise as she gazed at what had become of her arm in confusion.
Dilandau shot two spires of hardening alloy into the enemy melef, waiting until the protruded from the back before hardening the ends into hooks. Slowly he dragged the melef toward him, a canon poking from the Oreades' lips as Valeska's monster began spitting golden acid, to smother the attack with tendrils of flame. The acid ignited in midair, exploding in Valeska's face and causing her Alseid to go limp. "Val? Valentine, hon, you conscious?"
"Go to hell..."
"Only after you, Valeska. Only after you, so get ready!"
Van and Allen watched as Dilandau ripped one crima claw, still in hook form, from Valeska and straightened it into a rapier over her heart.
The battle was dying down around them. The Dragonslayers had bought Astoria this easy victory with little help from anyone else, no question about it, and the crowning jewel of the event would be the death of this woman, the one that called herself Lord Valeska.
"What the..."
A great blue column of light enveloped the purple mecha and Dilandau was quick to pull out and jump back, not knowing what was going on.
Valeska gave a shrill scream that hung in the air even as she faded along with the light.
Van blinked. That blue light had to have come from...
"Hitomi," Allen uttered.
Van looked heavenward. Hitomi.
A loud thump brought Van's attention back to battle and he turned to see the Oreades on its knees. "Oh no... Dilandau!"
Van rushed to the Oreades side, leaving Allen behind to stare at where Valeska had been. The blue light had taken Valeska away. Where had she gone and what did it mean?
"Dilandau?" Escaflowne stood beside the Oreades.
"Van?"
"Are you ok?"
"That light..."
"Don't worry about it. I know what it was," Van shushed him.
"It felt like..."
"Are you hurt?" The fight was over; it was safe to dismount. Maybe Van should get out and go over to Dilandau. He sounded like he'd hit his head. Van put the Escaflowne in a kneel and popped the hatch, jumping off the knee to the ground and climbing up Dilandau's Oreades. He knocked on the hatch and waited for Dilandau to open up.
Van gazed out at the field, seeing Astorian soldiers putting out the last of the fires, poking at dead soldiers from Zaibach Alseides, and gathering their injured or fallen comrades. Allen was coming out of Scherazade and walking toward Van with one arm wrapped around his rib cage.
Allen had said he was fine!
Van frowned, realizing he'd heard nothing from Dilandau. "Dilandau?"
Was there a release mechanism somewhere on the door? Van had to get in! He could be bleeding to death or unconscious, or... the hatch opened.
Dilandau climbed out, stumbling into Van's arms and actually letting Van support his weight as he got shaky legs under him. He was slippery with sweat and trembling so hard, Van was afraid he'd lose his grip on him. "Easy... Allen!"
Allen stood at the base of the Oreades, peering up at them. "Is he hurt?"
"Yeah, yeah I think so," Van said softly, not sure of what to do with... well his hands. His arms were around Dilandau's waist, but what to do with his hands? Should he keep them locked like they were now, should he rub his back, should he smooth his hair from his eyes?
Dilandau pillowed his head on Van's shoulder, his voice a faint whisper. "Don't let me fall, Van."
Van almost fainted himself in panic as Dilandau's body went limp against his. "Allen, get up here! He's passed out!"
Folken took Dilandau from his Slayers. One of them, he couldn't remember who, had been carrying him.
I told him not to go.
I told him to stay.
I told him...
Folken reached the lab in no time, pushing past an anxious Marie who had been preparing the clinic in back since they had received the transmission that Dilandau was injured. Folken didn't want any of Astoria's military doctors touching Dilandau. He made sure he was the first to reach him.
"Get that armor off him," Marie was instructing as Folken laid Dilandau down on the long table, Marie had spread a white pallet over. The overcoat had already been opened and the steady rise and fall of Dilandau's chest eased the obstruction in Folken's throat. He sat Dilandau up to completely remove the armored jacket and stripped him of the leather pants.
Marie pressed a stethoscope to his chest, listening to his heart and breathing. "Folken, sit down somewhere before you collapse yourself."
Folken blinked, staring at Marie a moment before the black spots dancing before his eyes warned him of the truth fueling Marie's statement. His breath was coming in short pants.
Goddess. He was hyperventilating. He sat on a stool beside the table, feeling the soft cotton of Marie's white coat brushing his arms as she moved.
It was just...
When he'd head the broadcast and then when they'd been given the news... he had thought...
Folken had thought that Dilandau was dead.
"Well good morning, kid. You certainly worked yourself into a state."
Folken blinked behind the hands he'd placed over his eyes. Marie was talking to...
"Ma...rie? Where...?"
Folken was on his feet again, peering down at Dilandau. The boy's eyes were open and his lashes fluttered as he fought to stay awake. His skin was flushed and damp with sweat and silver hair clung to his forehead in elf locks. "Dilandau?"
"Folken."
"I told you not to go out there! Why couldn't you listen to me?"
"Relax, Folken," Marie placed a hand on his arm as she slid the earpieces of the stethoscope from her ears and pressed a hand on Dilandau's forehead, then moved to feel his glands. "No harm done. He passed out before he could reach critical stress levels."
"You weren't gonna get me with those damn sprinklers this time," Dilandau smirked lightly, closing his eyes. "I wanted to beat her."
Sprinklers again? "Dilandau, what are you talking about?"
"Her, Valeska. Every time we fight, something happens. Lights... sprinklers and hoses..."
"Dilan..."
"Shh..." Marie put a finger to Folken's lips. "Let him sleep. His body's telling him something."
Folken frowned against Marie's finger, using his hand to brush it away. "Light, sprinklers, and hoses?"
Marie shrugged. "He's half asleep, Folken. Will you take him to bed?"
Folken nodded. "But shouldn't we keep him in here where he can be monitored? We should keeps tabs on his heart and respiration rates..."
Marie gazed at Folken sadly, her eyes giving a silent answer to Folken's question. What would be the point?
"Gods..."
"...have turned their backs," Marie whispered. "Put him to bed, Folken, and sit with him for a while. I'm sure he won't want to wake up alone. I'll talk to his boys and tell them what's going on."
Folken nodded, gathering Dilandau in his arms once again. Lifting his mass was becoming less and less of a burden.
There was barely anything left.
"Folken?"
He was still awake? "What is it, Dilandau?"
"Out there, while I was fighting, a blue light came..."
Folken sighed, wondering if the blue light had anything to do with the sprinklers and hoses.
"And I felt... it felt like... Celena."
He turned the page anxious to see how Captain Sparrow was going to get himself out of his current predicament. Such a ridiculous tale could never happen to anyone in real life, though that was probably what people would say about any story Allen had tell.
The words blurred a bit on the page as he leaned forward to reach for his glass of ice tea and stretched the tender area beneath his rib cage. He didn't think he'd broke anything, but maybe he should have had Millerna look at him before he left.
Allen had to get away from the castle for a little while, even if it was only for the night. He didn't want to listen to his men teasing him about being saved by Dilandau once again, or growing a soft spot for the boy because he'd carried him to the Crusade where his Dragonslayers had been waiting, ready to pounce. One would think Allen had done something to hurt the boy with the way they had acted.
Then there was Van, worrying over his crush like he had some terminal illness and Van's brother had done nothing to help the matter, snatching Dilandau away and practically running out of the hangar so fast Dilandau's men could barely keep up.
Allen hadn't seen any of them again after that, and he knew Van hadn't either, because he'd remained at his side, twitching and biting his nails. Allen couldn't say anything to calm his heart, mainly because... what could he say? Dilandau had passed out cold and hadn't stirred for the duration of the trip back to the castle. In Allen's experience, men only passed out for seconds, minutes... not hours. There was something seriously wrong with the boy, and Allen was willing to bet the reason he was unconscious came from a preexisting condition before the harbor battle.
The one Van had been suspicious about and the one Gatty had told him about when he'd asked.
God goods, was he concerned for Dilandau?
And then Hitomi! The girl had lost her mind and announced she was going home, and no one had seen her since she'd stormed away.
He rubbed his temples and gritted his teeth, grabbing his tea and taking a long, deep swallow. The icy beverage rolled down his throat and chilled his spine to the point of bringing pain...but it hurt so good.
He sighed in pleasure.
No more thinking for today, Allen. Enjoy your book, enjoy your tea... In the morning, take a stroll in the garden, sit on the swing; maybe go say a few words to Mother's grave.
That sounded nice.
He reclined in the high-backed, velvet chair, letting his long hair fall over the back of it. He set the tea back on the small, round table under the lamp with the flowery shade, and let his arms hang listlessly to the sides of the chair.
He could sleep here tonight.
Who would complain?
Allen closed his eyes, breathing in the sweet scent of roses brought in by the wind through the open windows. The white curtains billowed inward, reaching toward him like arms wanting to embrace.
He felt the book slide off his lap as he got more comfortable, stretching out his legs and slumping lower in the chair.
The only sounds were the wind whispering through the windows, the grandfather clock in the parlor ticking, and the timid footsteps of...
Timid footsteps?
Allen snapped out of his trance, bolting upright and springing out of his chair. Who in heavens' name would be disturbing him here, at this time of night?
"Who..." The words caught in his throat, and he felt behind him for the chair, leaning on it for support.
A girl stood in the doorway of the study, barefoot and dressed in loose fitting pants and half a cotton shirt. Golden hair just touched her shoulders as she stared at him with wide cornflower blue eyes.
"C...Celena?"
Author's Note: Ok... so– what's the verdict? Like it?- Hate it? Don't care either way? Whichever it is, let me know. Please review :).
Review Responses:
Kou-Kagerou: Hey chic. Thanks for cutting and pasting your e-mail into a review lol. You must know how I like to look at my review stats ;). I'm so glad you like the chapter and that I'm still managing to keep you interested. I'm trying to mix up the Slayers POV and if I could go back, I'd toss in more Dallet and Guimel. Working on their one-shot, I find that I rather like those two. You'll see more of a variety of Slayer POV in chapters to come. Yes, I'm nearing the final 5...maybe even less than that. I can't believe I'm almost finished with this. Ha! I'm always glad to see Folken/Marie support, since I'm not a romance writer. I think it all sounds awkward coming from me, but I didn't plan it. Those to just started gravitated toward one another. Thanks for telling me it's working out well. He, he, he Allen probably would develop a phobia for feather quills if Folken had attacked him, then he'd be afraid of needles, quills, and ink ;). I really hope you enjoyed the action in this chapter since you've been wanting to see some. There is more action to come, I promise. Thank again for reviewing and cutting and pasting. Such effort should be praised! Oh let me know about the dates you'll be in town.
EbonysDove: Hey girl. Your review was for 26, but I think you were reviewing both chapters in one, so I'm gonna respond to you here. I'm glad you're still along for the ride. I thought I had took too long to update and had lost some people. No, I'll never let this story or Sodality for that matter go. In fact I'm working on finishing up this story so I can get to work on Sodality lol. It was a bit too much handling both stories at the same time. Thanks for reviewing chic and take care!
Strangedream: Hahahaha! Don't you hate trying to talk and sound coherent when you're sleepy. You know what you mean, but will anyone else? ;). Thanks for giving me a shout out though, and Folken and Marie appreciate your support. Obsession: cool beans:) I hope you enjoyed the new chapter!
Haruko: Eh, you know how you write something and you hate it? I always feel that way about everything I post for some reason. It just never sounds right to me, but oh well. We are our own worst critics. I'm glad you liked it, and look, this update didn't take nearly so long. I actually finished it a few days ago and held it until today. Haha! Success! You now like Allen-the matchmaker. He's fun, and I'm hoping you will still appreciate his humor; I'm kinda playing with his personality a bit. I agree with you; I do believe the series cut back on showing Van and Allen interaction. No, I will never abandon this and I will be updating more frequently, as you can already see :). Take care girl and thanks for reviewing!
Aurebec: Lol, no, I'll e-mail you if I die ;). It's not in this chapter, but the Slayers will have a gathering that I will document :) if you'd really like to see that. You know I can't overlook a bonding period as good as that ;). Van and Allen's scene was fun and I had no problem getting it out. That was probably the one scene that I finished and actually kept the same while the other parts of the chapter were manipulated or erased. This chapter was HARD, and then I had to make the decision of cutting out the main action I wanted to happen in it. Phew... Marie wants Folken to clean up his own mess at the end of their scene...but there was also something else that she was hinting around to as well ;). Yes, I'm setting the stage for the Destiny War. This wouldn't be Escaflowne without it :). Valeska must come back; she's too fun to leave out :P. And yes...the story is coming to a close, but I've still got like 4 or 5 more chapters to go. So glad ya liked the one shot. I'll go ahead and respond to you here, since you made it all one review. Since when is shopping only a girl sport lol, though Dilandau was embarrassed when they returned at the fact that they looked like women with all of those bags... I can't kill Dilandau off? Is that challenge? (looks evil) Muhahahaha! Take care and thanks for reviewing! Hope to hear from you again soon!
LadySnowBlood: I think your review goes for the chapter and one-shot as well. I already e-mailed you though and answered your question, but I'll go ahead and answer it again, if anyone else is curious and reading this. The story can be what you make it. It can be yaoi if you want it to be or not. I'm trying to put anything yaoi oriented in one-shots so readers who don't prefer yaoi can skip those and continue on with the story. Thanks for the review. I'm glad you caught back up with the story :) Take care!
Jhaylin: Hmm... Even if Folken told everyone about Dilandau, he'd have to face the consequences of Dilandau's reaction...er retaliation lol ;) and the fact that...maybe Dryden and the generals won't care. It is war after all, and everyone's out to save their own hides and look good doing it. Thanks for the review; I really appreciate your feedback and suggestions. Take care!
Koneri: I'm glad you liked the chapter. Sorry "If I Didn't Know Better" didn't entertain you as much as the "Chill Factor" I had more fun writing The Chill Factor, but I think my preferences goes toward If I Didn't Know.. . but now it's leaning more toward "The Bigger the Feet." Hope you'll check that one out too, when it's up. Thank you for reviewing! Take care!
Kate: Hmm..I think your review was for the chapter, but it's listed under the one-shot, so I'll go ahead and respond here. I'm not ending the story. I put "The End" at the end of all of the one-shots, because they are story shorts. Severed still has a few more chapters to go, before I can seal it. Thanks for the review! Take care!
Squizles: Hmmm... I think your review is for the one-shot too... but since you asked me to answer your question in the next chapter, here it is, lol! Ask and ye shall receive, I say...well, Bible say... Whatever. Uh... I never said Miguel was gay. In fact, he's against homosexual relationships for the most part. He doesn't scorn people for their preferences, but he doesn't approve either. So Miguel and Viole's relationship is brotherly. But hey, they would make a good couple if either could express those sort of feelings for the other ;). Thanks for your review and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!
Macky: Hey! I put Merle in just for you. I was writing the chapter and thought... I need to find a way to add Merle in and give her a big speaking part for Macky. Persistence pays off ;). I hope you liked it. Thanks for reviewing!
Nikku: Yeah, this chapter was very hard to write because of the depressing tone of it, and I had many false starts. The question of what the Slayers will do, is what they will all be asking themselves in chapters to come. They need a plan. Dilandau is very afraid of dying. I couldn't imagine a 15 year old accepting that fate well. In some of my false starts, I had him being a bit too resigned about it. No, Allen's blood hasn't been tested. He refused, and Folken won't apply force...but he just might ;). Hehehe, Folken was kinda stupid for going after glass with flesh instead of metal. Girl, yeah, Van's legs look like toothpicks! He's so skinny! Why do all animes make the characters so wiry lol? Yes, Dilandau fights lol, as you saw... Nothing's gonna keep him out of this war. I'm glad you liked the one-shot too. I'm not one for romance or writing dates, but this one was fun. I wanted the boy to enjoy themselves, but I had to keep reminding myself, Dilandau's only out with Van because he's hiding. Yup, Dilandau isn't a cheap...and maybe his purchases for his friends are parting gifts. He wants to leave them with something, or maybe he's apologizing ;). He'll talk to his Slayers and Folken... you'll see :). Thanks for reviewing and take care! I'll hear from you again soon, I'll bet ;).
Omnipotent Pyro: Hahahah, Shesta likes to refer to Dilandau using derogatory language. He'd never do it to his face though ;). Hmm...would I kill Dilandau off? I don't know... I'll flip a coin... (j/k) Dilandau's fate has already been decided. You'll see what I do. I'm glad you enjoyed Chapter 23 and I hope this one pleased you as well. Take care and thanks!
Skippyscat: Ha! Hey! So it's Friday and I'm posting, so you're finally going to read the whole chapter all together instead of in pieces. Does it still sound as good as you thought it had in those chunks? I hope so lol. I think I've answered every question you asked me and then some, but if you think I left anything unanswered, I'm sure you'll let me know! Thank you so much so reading over the chapters for me. I've told you this so many times, but I just don't think I can say it enough. Thank you for your feedback and the time you take to come up with your responses. You make writing more fun and much easier. Take care and I'll hear from you soon ;).