Author's Note: And here it is, Part 3 of 3. I want to take this time out to say thank you to everyone who's ever reviewed this story or glanced at it. I especially want to say thank you to those of you who have held on with me until the end. It has been a LONG, slow journey. I also want to say thank you to my wonderful beta reader, Cat :).
I hope you guys enjoy the last installment of the LAST chapter; ( Wow, the last) one more Miguel one-shot and a short epilogue is to follow. Please keep an eye out for them, and also, please remember to tell me what you think at the end of this. :)
Chapter 32: Part 3
"They're going to kill us. You know this right?" Viole lay on his back in the damp grass, staring up at the sky. Something hard hit the ground beside him and he tilted his head back. It was weird to have to look down to look up. Lord Dilandau was perched on a high, thick branch of an apple tree, juggling two golden orbs.
Viole scowled. How dare Lord Dilandau throw unripe fruit at him? He couldn't even eat it. It wasn't Viole's fault that Lord Dilandau didn't know where the hell he was going and got them lost. Lord Dilandau had been the one to tell Lord Folken he was going to the library in town, and then dragged Viole on a hunt for a mythical strawberry patch–mythical because Viole was starting to doubt its existence. Lord Dilandau said he and Celena and Sir Allen used to visit a strawberry patch owned by one of their mother's friends, and swore he knew where it was better than Celena did. Viole wondered if Celena was as lost as they were somewhere outside of Astoria's borders.
They'd started seeing signs for Angeline, a harbor city in a neighboring country an hour ago, then found the apple trees. At least they wouldn't starve to death. They hadn't packed lunches; Lord Dilandau said that would look too suspicious and besides, they would eat strawberries– mythical strawberries.
"They can't kill us for going out, unless we're gone all day. We can be back before nightfall." Lord Dilandau reclined on the branch, back against the tree's trunk and feet crossed.
Viole frowned and turned over onto his stomach. Looking at Lord Dilandau upside down was making him dizzy. "If you say so, sir. But–"
"Viole."
"Yeah?"
"Don't do that anymore." Lord Dilandau turned his head a bit to look down at Viole.
"Do what?" Viole hadn't done anything– well, not anything that he could think of. He bet Miguel could have pointed out some things to him.
"Call me 'sir' when it's just us, when we're out having fun. It's... it feels strange now, off, and I'd really like it if you'd just call me by my name without the title," Lord Dilandau said.
It didn't feel strange to Viole, partly because he was used to acknowledging Lord Dilandau's status and mostly because he felt Lord Dilandau deserved to be properly addressed. He was a great man who wasn't even a man yet. Viole liked calling him "Lord" and "Captain" and having older guys turn to look, wanting to know who that guy was that other people looked at with such respect. If Viole started calling him just 'Dilandau', even if it was only in private, it would take away some of the specialness. Titles were earned. Viole didn't want to take Lord Dilandau's trophy.
"I think it'll help me fit in better with you guys. I mean, we have a lot of fun and we've all gotten so close, but I still feel a division between me and you guys that I don't want to be there, not during 'friend time'. I want to separate work and play completely, Viole. Some people say it because they don't want people to bring play to work; I don't want to bring work to play."
Viole frowned and pushed himself up into a sitting position. "You feel distant from us when we're together?" Viole was confused. Lord Dilandau got love from so many angles he chafed at the attention. They fought over who spent time with him, who brought him things, who got to call him best friend. Back on the Vione, there was a wall, but after the Vione, there wasn't. Hell, the wall was gone sooner than that. The wall had come down when Celena was removed. She'd been the barrier. She was trying to make herself a barrier again.
Was it her fault? She was pushing to be part of the group and Gatty, Dallet and Miguel were letting her. Miguel... had a freakin' crush– a crush! Miguel denied it with every fiber of his being, but Viole knew a crush when he saw one.
"Celena says I should leave things as they are. That I should always feel a slight difference between us. Everything I've ever learned says there has to be space between us, but not everything I learned is right. You guys proved that. We've become a closer knit team, since...since the Vione. You all proved you would die for me, but the reason why has changed from then to now."
Viole nodded. It was true. Viole would have died for a commanding officer he worshiped back then, now he would die for a best friend he loved like a brother.
"If our relationship is different, and we're certainly behaving like it's different– I mean look at us." Lord Dilandau sat up and straddled the branch. "We're goofing off, hopelessly lost, and teasing each other about it. We're... Viole, we're kids. I'm a kid."
Viole wanted to laugh. He would have if Lord Dilandau didn't look so serious. Lord Dilandau's jaw trembled at bit and Viole twisted his hair around his index finger. It hit him, like a steel bar in the back. Lord Dilandau had stated the obvious about his physical condition. He was 15 years old, hardly an adult in society's eyes, but mentally, Lord Dilandau had to be older to do his job.
Viole moved to stand under Lord Dilandau's branch, squinting to get a better look at his face. Lord Dilandau's eyes were bright; they caught the sun and blazed red for a moment. "I never got to be one before all this, you know? Everything was life and death; training or battle. I never had fun. I couldn't take afternoons off. I didn't have friends. I wasn't supposed to want any of that, anyway. I was made to eat, sleep, and be the perfect soldier. If eating and sleeping could be eliminated, all the better. I wasn't supposed to be a person."
"L..."
Lord Dilandau chuckled darkly. "Celena was the one they should have used if they wanted that. She lives to fight. There's nothing else for her. Now, don't get me wrong, I like fighting too, but more for the excitement of combating skilled opponents. I like to win. I like to see swords clash and fire and strength. I love coming up with strategies and watching them come into play, and ordering people around. But Celena gets off on the kill. She likes blood. She's the one that would keep following orders and fight forever. She'd never bite at her masters so long as she was in action. She... doesn't think. Ironically, what made her perfect for Zaibach's purposes also made her unsuitable. They needed a leader, not just a soldier."
"Lord..."
"They tried to get rid of the parts of me that wanted to do anything other than fight and win. They thought they could kill what made me different from her in mentality, and they almost did. And then, there was you guys. You were afraid of me, you worshiped me, but you always tried to make me feel welcome, no matter how mean I was."
Lord Dilandau's voice grew soft and Viole shut his eyes, clenching his fists. Why was Lord Dilandau thinking about all this? It was hurting him and making Viole angry. Their next mission, after putting Astoria back together, was hunting up any renegade Madoushi and giving them the slowest, most pain-filled deaths any manual on torture could offer. They'd made Lord Dilandau feel like a tool; they'd treated him like a damn Alseid they'd built from scratch and reprogrammed at will.
Viole started to climb the tree.
"I guess when you call me 'Lord' and 'sir' while we're having fun, it makes me remember when we weren't on such good terms. I remember that I'm your leader and you'd let me order you to your deaths without complaint. I remember my old lessons, and start feeling like what I'm doing is wrong. I don't want to think about being leader or wrong, while we're goofing off, lost, and teasing each other. I just want to be kids, Vi. Kids aren't formal."
As Viole neared Lord Dilandau's branch, Lord Dilandau scooted forward. Viole pulled himself up and straddled the branch too, facing Lord Dilandau's back. "You really think all that when you're with us?"
"Not all the time. Not when we're laughing and throwing things at each other and no one's calling anyone by their given name." Lord Dilandau's shoulders slumped. "I just... is it too much to ask? I don't want to feel a gap between us, but that can't stop you from feeling one. Maybe you'll always feel it anyway, even if I don't, so there is no point. Or maybe you want a difference. I didn't ask you about that."
Viole placed his hands on Lord Dilandau's shoulders and pulled himself close enough to rest his chin on one of his hands. "I don't feel a difference between us. I haven't for a while. No one does. You're our leader. We'll follow you anywhere, but we'd do it for our best friend too. You're special to all of us. Your title, it makes us proud to call you that. We like when other people hear us say it and look at you like we do. You deserve it."
"But..."
"It alienates you at the same time." Viole sighed and squeezed Lord Dilandau's shoulders. He was still so skinny, but he was slowly gaining back lost weight and muscle. "I can see how you feel set apart. We do set you apart, but not like you think. We don't feel like you're boss and that we can't truly relax around you. You're the unbelievably cool guy everyone wants to be. We can't understand why you want to hang around us losers, but you do."
Lord Dilandau sighed and leaned back, resting against Viole. Viole draped his arms around Lord Dilandau's waist, hands meeting beneath Lord Dilandau's hollow belly and resting on the bark between their legs.
"If you guys are losers, then I'm a loser too. I want to be included in whatever terms you use to define yourselves with. I'm not cool and no one wants to really be me, Viole. So, stop. When we're off duty, I'm a loser too, got it?"
Viole tossed his head back and laughed. He would have tipped backward if he wasn't hanging onto Lord Dilandau. Who the hell wanted to be called a loser, when someone told him he was the King of Cool? Only Lord Dilandau. Viole tightened his arms for a moment, hugging Lord Dilandau. He was... such a kid, more a kid than Viole and the others, really. Lord Dilandau was never allowed to be childish and innocent or cute. It was like he was starting from the beginning, from now. So, in a way, he was younger than them. He was as Celena called him, "Little Brother".
Celena called Lord Dilandau by the nickname, because technically she was older, and because she knew it got on his nerves. But...maybe that wasn't all. Maybe she called him Little Brother, because he lacked the experience needed to be a Big Brother. He knew war games and melefs, but he didn't know life stuff. But if Celena called Lord Dilandau 'Little Brother' according to those specifications, she was a hypocrite. From what Viole knew of Celena, she didn't know much about life stuff either. But the difference between Lord Dilandau and Celena was Lord Dilandau wanted to know...and Viole wanted to show him.
"You'll never be a loser. Got that?" Viole said. "None of us are losers, actually. We're too kick-ass for that. Well, some of us are anyway. Miguel may have to sit out, because he folds his napkins like a girl."
"So do you."
Viole huffed. "I do not! And– and anyway, we're not talking about me. We'll talk to the others when we get back and I bet you they'll say the same thing I'm about to say right now. You're one of us, we love and respect you, and we don't feel a wall. If losing the titles helps you, then we'll lose the titles. You want to feel like a part of the group and we want you to feel like a part of the group, because you are... Dilandau."
Lord–Dilandau shifted in Viole's hold. "That's better already."
"Really? Hey, is Dilan, ok too? Or Landau? I may not like Celena, but the nicknames are cool."
Dilandau shuddered. "So long as you don't call me Lil' B, I'm ok."
"Lil' B?" Viole chuckled. He hadn't heard that one.
"I don't know where she gets these names. She claims Hitomi gave her some ideas before she went back to the Mystic Moon. Of all the things to share with my stupid sister."
"So you guys have all really been getting along, huh. Like a real family."
Dilandau nodded. "I thought it would be weird, but it's not. My memories of the past are still fuzzy, but when Allen or Celena start to tell a story, I remember it too. I still don't remember everything that happened in Zaibach, but Celena says that's probably for the best. There's nothing good there."
"You remember everything about us though, right? The things you don't remember clearly were when you were younger?" Viole asked. Dilandau had to remember everything they did together.
Dilandau was quiet.
"S– er– Dilan?"
"Viole. I wish I can say that I do. I can't."
Viole sagged. His eyes stung and he blinked rapidly to keep in tears. Was Dilandau saying that he didn't truly remember them? "What about the first time I blocked you and made you step back? Or knocked Miguel's sword out of his hand? What about when I got the best flight score in the bunch and you promoted me to First String?"
Dilandau let more of his weight rest against Viole. "I remember some of it, Vi. I remember when I first saw you and said I wanted to give you a chance. I remember appointing partners, and Miguel requesting for me to pair you two."
Viole stiffened; tears forgotten. "Miguel what?"
"Miguel asked for you. He identified you as a noble right away, and thought you two would be perfect partners. He wasn't getting along too well with the others at that time."
"He... how did he know? I made up the background in my file. According to it, I'm a farmer's son. I thought they all found out because I'd let it slip after a while and word got out. I don't really remember telling anyone in particular. I know the cadets say they can tell my background by my manner, but Miguel? On the first day? Huh?"
Dilandau snickered. "It was your penmanship."
"Wh..."
"Your pretty cursive gave you away. Miguel took one look at your dainty signature and knew he had a potential ally."
Viole snorted and rested his chin on Dilandau's shoulder again. He smiled lightly, inhaling the sharp scent of greenery that contrasted with the sweet scent of ripening apples. His handwriting had given him away. There were so many little things that gave others insight on personal backgrounds. Trying to hide from the people you were closest too couldn't work. There were too many details to smother, too many details to forget.
"You'll get your memories back."
"Hm?"
"Celena was wrong. There is some good stuff in your Zaibach memories, too much of it for you to really forget it all. Something will trigger it." We'll tell stories too and make you remember.
"I hope so, Viole. I really want to remember you, all of you. I've got you, Miguel, Shesta, Guimel, Gatty and Dallet here with me, but the others... I want complete memories of them."
Viole nodded. "I'll help you. I'll tell you everything I know about everyone and we'll see what you can add to it. It's not quite the Celena/Allen approach, but..."
"It's better. I... probably don't have stories about some of them. For the ones I do remember, I know I didn't get to know them as well as I should have. I tried to pay equal attention to everyone, but with training and the Emperor, and the Madoushi and trying not to go completely crazy, I played favorites and delegated a lot of responsibilities. I'd take it back, Viole. Tristan or Brian didn't deserve to be any less known than Refina or Ryuuon."
"Buddy, you can't expect to remember and know everybody you meet. Some needed more attention, some shied away from it; you knew everyone who made an effort to know you. You gave attention to who asked for it and to those who so desperately needed it. You couldn't be everywhere, which is why you have Gatty and Shesta. Even they can't truthfully account for everybody. I can't either and I'm the social bunny. When we play memory plug-in, you're going to find me lacking too. We might have to go to outside sources. Might take all of us."
"But you and me will try to see what we can get first, right? I... I don't want the others to know about this yet. In fact, I might not want them to know, if they don't have to, Vi. If this can be..."
"Between us?" Viole grinned. "Sure. I don't mind. You know you can trust me. We'll see what we can do first and pool our resources if we suck. How's that?"
"Good." Dilandau tilted his head back onto Viole's shoulder to peer at him. "Did I ever thank you for being so nice to me, Viole?"
"Nice?" Viole laughed. "Whatever. You'd help me with this stuff, if I was having problems. It's what friends– "
"Viole, I'm not talking about this. Thank you for this, I mean, but I'm talking about another time, that other time. The time I asked you to do something no one should ask somebody else, and you said you'd do it."
Something caught in Viole's throat and he pushed Dilandau away from him to cough. Damn that Shesta. His eyes watered and he swallowed. 'That other time'. "It wasn't like I actually did what I said I would. You don't have to thank me for anything."
Dilandau flipped around on the branch, so that he was facing Viole. The motions were so quick, Viole barely followed them before he and Dilandau were face to face. "It didn't come to that."
"But if it had..."
"There's no doubt in my mind that you would have been next to me. The fact that you look like a kicked puppy, because you couldn't offer me your tailored clothes to throw up on a few weeks ago says that much."
Viole pouted. "I wanted to be there for you to talk to. You know you don't tell the others everything. You wouldn't have had to be so strong all the time with me there. I was supposed to give you a break, but I failed you."
Dilandau snorted. "I know better than you do how we can't fault ourselves because our bodies don't listen. You were sick, and Marie says you got so sick because you were working too hard. I probably wanted you and Shes to rest as much as you wanted to sit with me. I'll tell you, you didn't miss anything spectacular, and you were there to grant me relief from Allen's mothering soon enough."
Sir Allen was a bit much. Viole didn't know if that was just how he was with family, or if the Heavenly Knight felt guilty about how badly he'd treated Dilandau in the beginning. Dilandau had been pretty horrible to Sir Allen too though, so Viole figured they cancelled each other out.
"But still... I just feel awful. I don't like not being able to deliver. I...kinda wanted you to be mad at me for it, but you weren't, you're not."
"Because there's nothing to be mad about. I missed you and all, but I got your notes and comic strips. I was ok. Question is: Are you ok?"
Viole blinked. Maybe. He knew he would never be completely all right with that; it wasn't something he could just get over. His best friend almost died. That was probably it. It wasn't that Viole couldn't be there. Dilandau understood why he couldn't be there. It was the fact that Dilandau really almost died, and Viole would have been there if he did. Red Witch couldn't have kept him out. It was hard to believe the guy smirking at him might not have been there right now, if Sir Allen hadn't stepped in when he did. Viole... he'd never...
Viole threw his arms around Dilandau, giggling at the other boy's surprised gasp. Viole never got to do this and say: "Thank gods you're ok. The nightmare's over."
It was like breathing in fresh mountain air and bathing in a cool spring at the same time. Viole was clean and light. Refreshed. The shadows were all gone and Dilandau was returning his embrace, patting Viole's back gently.
They sat like that for a while, Viole with his head resting on Dilandau's shoulder. "Hey, has Shes done this yet?"
"Two days ago," Dilandau said with a chuckle, "except he went all weepy on me too. I had to order him a cup of tea to calm him down."
Viole laughed. "Well, at least I'm not that bad."
"Hmph. Shesta wasn't bad. You should have seen Gatty and Guimel. Guimel was the worst though. He scared me."
Viole smiled. "He scared a lot of people. Dallet almost took up smoking for a minute there he was so worried, about you and Guimel."
"I'll kick Dallet's ass if I find out he's been smoking," Dilandau said flatly. "Celena smokes."
"What?" They pulled away from each other and sat back.
"Yeah, she rolls her own and smokes with the stable boys. Allen caught her– no, Gaddes caught her and told Allen about it the next morning. It made for an interesting breakfast argument."
Viole shook his head with a smile. The Schezars... it was so weird saying the Schezars knowing Dilandau was included in that circle... fought all the time. They fought over dating and soldier duty as well as favorite colors and locations of strawberry patches. It seemed to be the way they expressed their love for one another. Viole never realized how much Sir Allen was like his siblings until Viole had joined them for a meal one day. Viole would have known Sir Allen and Lord Dilandau were related a long time ago, if he'd spent more time with the Knight. But back then, things were different. It was sort of nice, learning more about the people who'd been in his face for months.
He still might not like them all, but it was a good start for a new period in his life. He was still a soldier, still a clown, still a friend, but now he felt he'd also found his place and it was time to build. "Shes finally heard something on the Surfside Players."
"Hm?"
"Yeah," Viole said. "He was able to find a translator for one of his non-common speaking clients, and the woman said she'd seen someone fitting Heather's description with a group of entertainers heading North a week ago."
"So, she may still be out there."
Viole nodded. "Yup, and she knows where I'm going to be for a while yet, so... I'm happy."
"That's good."
They kicked their legs and watched the sun falling in the sky. Their two borrowed horses grazed and whinnied lightly, probably anxious to get moving again. Imagine them, Viole and Dilandau, once members of Zaibach's most feared team of specialists, being lazier than horses.
"We're going to be in so much trouble when we get back," Dilandau said.
"Yeah," Viole agreed. "Are we going to go straight back from here or keep looking for the strawberries?"
"We've come this far. I'd hate to get in trouble empty handed. Might as well make it worth their effort and ours."
"Hm." Viole rubbed his hand on the black bark of the branch. "Think they'll come after us in melefs or the Crusade?"
"Both," Dilandau said evenly. "Allen and Van in melefs. Allen's crew plus Shesta, Miguel and Gatty on the Crusade. Dallet and Guimel will stay behind in case we come back before the parties find us. Folken and Marie... well, they've been a bit busy as of late. I doubt they know we're gone; though, if they're wondering Pearce could probably pinpoint our exact location for them. Creepy bastard."
"Basically, strawberries or no strawberries we're screwed?"
"Basically."
"Hell, then let's find those strawberries, and get dinner in Angeline while we're at it. I hear they have great seafood. I know you don't like meat, but you have to try prawns. They're great cooked or raw. My sister, Violet, turned me onto them."
Dilandau raised a brow. "Violet?"
"Yeah, she's the oldest. Lets see, there's Violet, Veronica, Vivian, Valerie, Verruca, Vanessa, and Viola, or as I liked to call them: Violent, Vindictive, Vicious, Volatile, Venomous, Voracious, and Vile."
"Any of them a match for Celena?"
"Oh, I believe one or two of them make Celena look like Susie Sunshine. They're awful! All of them!"
Dilandau laughed. "Tell me more."
"Only if you tell me more about Miguel choosing me to be his partner. I can't wait to rub that in his face!"
Allen wanted to yell stop, but as worried as he was, he couldn't help but be awed by the level of skill his siblings displayed as they sparred. Their previous guymelef battles looked like child's play compared to this.
The twins circled each other with long swords, waiting for the other to give an opening for the dance to begin again. Celena would attack first. She always did. She didn't have the patience to wait for Dilandau to make the first move. Dilandau, on the other hand, could wait out a woman getting ready for an evening out. The strategy was brilliant against Celena, whose eyes narrowed every second Dilandau didn't make a move towards her. She was getting frustrated and it made her movements choppy and rasher than usual.
Celena might have had a small advantage of strength over Dilandau with this being the first time he'd sparred whole-heartedly in over a month, but Dilandau was using it against her. His moves were blocks and feints, no outright attacks. He was tiring Celena out. Blocks and feints against strong down-strikes and thrusts that could have gutted Dilandau, if he hadn't predicted them, wouldn't have been very impressive coming from other soldiers. But Celena wielded her sword like a man twice her age with a lifetime of experience, so, to block anything she threw, deserved a standing ovation. Allen wouldn't admit it aloud, but he didn't know if he could block everything she threw.
The Slayers and Van stood on the other side of the spar, watching with their mouths slightly agape. Judging from their expressions, Allen was beginning to think that neither Dilandau nor Celena had ever showed this caliber of skill to them. Maybe they hadn't shown it to anyone. After all, this was their first face-to-face spar, in their own separate bodies no less. They both had something to prove to the other.
Celena wanted to prove that she was as good as—no, that she was better than Dilandau, knowing her. Dilandau—was a perfectionist, like Allen; he was reminding his friends and Van why they followed him.
There were a few gasps in the room from the twenty-five wide-eyed cadets sitting on the floor near the windows of the old ballroom turned training hall. The boys watched, eyes glittering with excitement, pumping fists and drumming on their legs. They were really getting a show. The ones that hadn't run off to war without permission from their teachers were finally being rewarded. At the end of this fight, Dilandau would be deemed fit for duty, and regular classes, containing only the boys present, would begin.
Folken, Dr. Marie and Pearce stood beside Allen. Folken looking apprehensive, Dr. Marie looking amused, and Pearce looking…like Pearce. Strangely, the more time Allen spent around Pearce the less it seemed Allen knew about the man. Wherever did Folken find such a follower and how had they all come to know Dr. Marie?
Zaibach must have been full of odd characters. Talking to the Slayers, Allen learned that most of the people who had populated the Zaibach army were not originally from Zaibach. Zaibach was home to runaways, deserters, and unwanteds. Its Emperor invited all to come with open arms, so he could use and experiment on them at his leisure. Allen ground his teeth as he reminded himself the evil man was dead now.
There were cheers. Allen's eyes snapped back to the fight. Celena lay sprawled on her back with Dilandau's foot on her chest and the tip of his dulled sword at her throat. Allen's brother smirked and his sister scowled, looking mad enough to spit.
"What was that you said about me earlier, Celena? Didn't you say I wasn't a match for you because I was out of shape and my muscles were soft? Well, what does getting your ass kicked by someone as lazy and flabby as me say about you?"
"It says you cheated, you shit. Since when do you go after someone's clothing?"
"Since people keep forgetting to tie their shoes," Dilandau said, tossing a grin in Van's direction. Van rolled his eyes.
"It was a perfectly fair move. You must be aware of your body and surroundings at all times. A soldier uses every advantage given to him. If you would just go and have boots made for yourself instead of swiping mine, you might get a pair that fit without you having to leave the laces undone," Dilandau said.
"Why the hell are your feet smaller than mine? Whoever heard of a boy with smaller feet than his sister's?"
"Who the hell heard of a girl with feet fatter than her brother's?" Dilandau countered. "If you'd lay off the salted pork, maybe your feet would shrink, and maybe you'd stop stretching my damn clothes too! I'm tired of my pants falling off my waist. Oh hey, I got it. If you'd get your own clothes to go along with your own shoes..."
Allen stared. The Slayers and Van were snickering and the cadets were failing to mask their amusement. Were his siblings truly arguing in front of their subordinates? After finishing a spar that would have their cadets singing praises about them for years to come, they ruin it with petty squabbling?
Didn't they get enough of that at the dinner table?
Allen knew he'd had enough of it. Every evening, when Dilandau decided to grace Allen and Celena with his presence, there was a new argument. Sometimes the arguments were valid, such as the issue of clothing. Allen didn't appreciate Celena borrowing his clothes either. Other times, the arguments were ridiculous. The last big one was over the location of Mrs. Mallory's strawberry patch. Those fields had been plowed over years ago, but even if they still existed, Celena and Dilandau wouldn't have found them. If Allen didn't know better, he wouldn't think either of them had any sense of direction. The patch was in the heart of Angeline. Dilandau had gotten the closest to where it would have been, but he was still miles off the mark. Allen could have strangled his brother when he finally found Dilandau and Viole. They were in a bar, gambling. A group of men sat at a table in their underwear, having bet and lost everything on their persons to the boys.
"Hey, hey, Lord Dilandau, Celena, chill."
Allen frowned. He'd always thought Dallet was a little off, but the boy was crazy to put himself between Dilandau and Celena in the middle of a spat while armed with large swords. Dilandau scowled and removed his foot from Celena's chest. He slid his sword back into his sheath and offered Celena a hand.
Celena smacked Dilandau's hand away and struggled to her feet. She tossed her sword behind her, and Allen grimaced at the cracking sound it made when it hit the floor. Celena was a sore loser at everything, and it was understandable. No Schezar liked to lose, but, when it came to swords, a certain amount of respect had to be observed. If they weren't in front of their cadets, Allen would have ordered Celena to pick the sword up and put it away properly.
"Well, it looks like we're going to have to clear the little shit for duty now."
Allen glanced over to see Folken and Dr. Marie with their heads together.
"… just a quick check up after this to make sure he's really all right, then."
A twinge of fear. Dilandau was doing so well. He was full of energy, his appetite was healthy, even if his diet was lacking, and he looked great. Allen could almost forget he had been sick, was sick. It scared him to think that even now, something could still go wrong. Folken and Dr. Marie told Allen rejection was still a possibility up to six months after a transplant, but not to worry too much. They'd tested Celena a week after she'd arrived, and her blood and marrow were a match for Dilandau's too. If Allen's marrow failed, they could try again with Celena's.
Allen never wanted to fail another family member again. So, they were going to do everything right and take every precaution. Allen clenched his hands into fists and relaxed them. One of the precautions was Chid. If Celena's marrow was to fail, they'd need another donor. Chid would need to be tested, meaning Allen would have to tell Celena and Dilandau about Chid. He would end up having to tell a lot of people about Chid and tarnish a lot of images, his, Chid's, the Astorian royal family's, and Duke Freid's.
Allen stood alone as Folken and Dr. Marie moved to join the Slayer circle that surrounded Dilandau, thudding him on the back.
He could hear the cadet's saying things like:
"Great fight! How did you do that move?"
"I didn't know you were that good!"
"I can't believe you beat her like that! She's like a warrior princess!"
"He beat her because she was sloppy."
Allen jumped at the voice in his ear. He turned to face Pearce. Allen hadn't noticed the man still standing there. No one should be that quiet.
"Dilandau made her get sloppy," Allen said. "He didn't win because she was less skilled, he won because…."
"He's smart and he reads his opponents before making his move," Pearce said. "It's a good technique. Not just anyone can do it, and out of those that can, not many do it that well."
Allen nodded, then narrowed his eyes at the pale, cold-eyed man. Many women in the castle found Pearce handsome and Allen supposed he was, but just looking at the man made him shiver. "Are you any good at it?"
Pearce raised a brow. "It's my job to know what people are going to do before they do it."
Allen frowned. The answer was innocent and a bit mysterious; probably given to make Allen blink, but it did more than that. The underlying tone of that statement said something else. "Pearce, is there something you want to tell me?"
Pearce's eyes were veiled as he let his lids slide closed. Pearce was hiding his eyes. The twinge of fear came back. "Pearce?"
"Be careful with the girl."
The girl? "Celena? Why? What have you heard? Is something…."
Pearce's back was to him. Folken and Dr. Marie were coming back, Dilandau between them. The Slayers formed a single file line behind them, still talking about the fight. Allen watched them all march out the door, Dilandau turning a bit to wave at him before he disappeared. Allen would have to congratulate him on his victory later, and maybe challenge him to a private spar. They'd never finished any of the fights they'd had, and Allen wanted to see who might have won.
Allen opened his mouth to call to Pearce again, but the man was gone, vanished with the crowd. Damn him.
"You all right, Allen?" Van placed a hand on his shoulder. The short boy king looked nervous, eyes roving from the slightly ajar door to Allen secondly. Rowdy cadets were getting themselves into lines of five and holding their own practice, testing out the moves they'd seen Dilandau and Celena do.
"Yes."
Celena stood off to the side of the cadets, watching them with a hard expression on her face. The boys called her, "Captain Schezar", asking her to instruct them and she waved them off.
"You had a worried look on your face," Van said. "Dilandau's fine, you know. Folken's just being a mother hen. He's always been like that."
Allen looked down at Van. The boy king was still short, but he stood taller these days. Allen didn't know if he'd actually physically grown, or if it was all mental. Van held his shoulders square, back straight, chin up. Brown eyes shone with pride. Pride at winning a war, pride of country, pride of lineage, pride at…having what he wanted. Van had entered this war as an immature, confused orphan, too skinny to fill his ragged britches. He left it as an experienced, knowledgeable veteran that now knew he had to try his pants on before he bought them. He had a family and friends, and… Allen swallowed… a love interest.
Allen had a hand in raising this boy. He'd thought of him as a little brother, and maybe he still did, but…. Allen took in Van's expression, the way he stared up at Allen, brown eyes displaying some hurt and hope for acceptance. Allen sighed, squeezing the hand Van had on his shoulder. He'd been through too much with Van to push him away now.
Van was a good boy. A really good boy and Allen still cared for him, but….
"Van?"
"Hm?" Van was smiling at Allen's hand on his shoulder, eyes bright.
"Are you sure you don't like Hitomi?"
Van tossed his head back and laughed. "More sure than you were, when you realized you didn't like her. I… Allen, you know how I feel about him. I'm sorry that it changes things between us, but… I can't let him go now. When we're together I feel right, I feel good. I've never felt like this before."
First love. Allen knew the feeling, but gah!
"I wish you could accept us. I know you worry about Dilandau not fully understanding his feelings, but, Allen, he does. If you talk to him about it, you'll know that he does."
Allen's shoulders slumped. He knew that. That's why he didn't talk to Dilandau about it. They were fifteen years old. They weren't supposed to understand those kind of feelings, but they did. "Van, I don't know that I'll ever be ok with anyone my brother or my sister dates to be honest with you. But, I guess I should be grateful that Dilandau's at least dating someone I can trust."
Van blushed. "You know you can trust me, Allen."
Allen nodded. He knew. But… "Know that I will never stop trying to introduce my brother to new things. Girls for instance. There is the Schezar line to think about."
Van scowled a bit, but hid it quickly with a soft smile. "Of course, as I know people will not stop trying to introduce me to new things, girls for instance. There is the Fanel line to think about. But I think Folken's going to more than take care of that. He and Marie are headed for the altar, even if she has to drag him there, literally."
Both Allen and Van laughed at the mental picture of Dr. Marie dragging Folken by the tails of his tux down the aisle. Folken had really gotten himself in trouble with that one. Dr. Marie was pretty to look at, but look was all Allen would do.
Somewhere in their giggles, Van moved closer and Allen wrapped an arm around his shoulders, giving him a light hug and ruffling his hair.
"So, we're friends again?" Van asked, nose in Allen's shirt.
"Yes, we're friends," Allen said, "but don't think I won't kill you if I catch you and Dilandau anywhere with the doors closed or the lights off."
Van chuckled, then glanced up at Allen to see that he was only half-joking. "Uh… ah… I… better go after them. They're probably wondering what happened to me, and suspecting you. I'll…uh… see you."
Allen snorted as Van pulled away from him and practically ran out the door. Silly boy. Allen wondered if he should follow. He did want to hear Folken say that Dilandau was all right for now. He turned to the door.
"Captain Schezar, am I doing it right?"
Celena. Allen almost forgot about her, thinking about Van and Dilandau. The girl remained in the same place she had been in when Dilandau left, still sulking. Allen made his way to her.
"Celena."
"Len." Her voice was flat.
"Your fighting skills are impressive."
"I lost."
Allen blinked. "You weren't paying attention."
"I lost. Even if I had been paying attention, I would have lost. I can't beat him, Len. He didn't even look concerned about fighting me. He knew he was going to win. All he had to do was look at me, then he smirked."
"He psyched you out," Allen said, "but you two are evenly matched."
"When it comes to skill," Celena said gruffly. "He's smarter than me. I can train as hard as I want; I'll get stronger, but not smarter. That's why the Madoushi chose him over me. I was supposed to be the warlord. I wanted it; he didn't, but of course, he's better at it."
Allen frowned at his sister. "Celena…."
"That's how the world works. The guys that don't want it or don't care, are the ones that have talent oozing out of their every pore. Dilan might decide he doesn't want to do this one day, and just leave and it won't matter to him. He'll be equally good at whatever he tries. But me… hah. This is what I got."
Where was all of this coming from? Certainly not from one loss….
"Celena…."
Celena looked at him, light blue eyes glistening… with repressed tears? Allen reached out to pull his little sister to him, but she stepped back. She sniffed and wiped at her eyes with the pads of her thumbs.
"The pollen's really bad today, don't you think?"
"Cel…."
"Captain Schezar, could you help us?"
"Yeah," Celena called, turning her head to finally acknowledge the cadets. "Yeah, I'll be right there. Hey, I got work to do, Len. I might not make it to dinner. Tell Dilan I'll come talk to him before bed, ok?"
"I… yes, I'll tell him, but Cel…."
She walked away from him.
Allen stood, watching his sister straightening lines of trainees and demonstrating stances. He saw a flash of his father in her, in her profile, the set of her jaw.
A flash of the father that had left the family never to be seen again.
"'Be careful with the girl."'
"Be careful with the girl." Allen bit his lip. He could pay more attention to Celena, but when he did, it seemed to drive the girl further away from him. He would try harder though, because Celena was not going to end up like their father.
So, she worried about not being able to do anything but be a soldier and a mediocre one at that? Well, Allen would help her find something else she liked and could be good at. Celena had been raised by monsters to do monster's work, and never allowed to look to other things. Sure, when she was a baby, all she wanted to do was fight, but as she grew older maybe she'd wanted to expand her horizons and could not, then forgot she wanted to.
Celena was right about Dilandau. He could decide to quit being a soldier and had a world of opportunity at his fingertips when it came to picking a new trade. Celena could have that too. Allen would make sure she did.
Like it was Pearce's job to know what people were going to do before they did it, it was Allen's job as a big brother to help his siblings make the right choices and find their way in life.
What a change. He'd been a lonely bachelor with a string of heartbroken women behind him. Now, he was a family man with a string of curses from enraged little brothers and sisters beside him. Did he miss what he had? No. Was he ready to forget the past and look to the future? Maybe.
Was he happy now?
"Sir Allen, Lord Dilandau wants to know if he can have his riding gear back?" Miguel appeared in the doorway.
Allen hesitated. Dilandau getting his riding gear back meant more escapades. Was he ready for that? Gods, would he ever be ready for that?
No, not really, but….
"Yes."
"...and then he ignored me all morning! All I did was pull out a chair for him. How was I supposed to know he'd take offense to that?"
Folken cleared his throat, hoping the noise masked the chuckle that had escaped. Van glared at him. Well, so much for hoping.
Folken was shelving herbs Princess Millerna had brought in that morning, arranging them according to the type of medicines that could be concocted from them and the symptoms they alleviated, rather than alphabetically as Marie would have done. He knew he would come in the next day to find that the woman had rearranged everything. Sometimes, he didn't know why he bothered.
Van sat behind him in Marie's favorite arm chair, watching Folken work and complaining about his day. Van had been in countless meetings that week and often unloaded on Folken, finding him after meals or late at night. Marie was getting annoyed with Van's frequent visits, but Folken loved them. It was like he was meeting Van all over again. He was no longer the baby that liked to jump into Folken's arms or ride on his back. He was almost a man who wanted to talk about issues that concerned Folken as well.
"How do you know when Marie doesn't like something, if she never tells you she doesn't like it?" Van asked.
Folken placed the last herb on a high shelf, then dusted his hands off on his lab coat. "I don't."
"See, there's no ESP between couples. Dilandau does plenty of stuff that I hate and I don't get huffy."
"Van." Folken closed the door to the storage closet and turned to look at his brother. Van had his knees pulled to his chest with his chin resting on them. "I don't know when Marie doesn't like something, if she doesn't tell me, but I can usually figure it out before I get into too much trouble. You simply study them and the things that happen around them."
"All I do is study Dilandau."
Folken snorted. "You study him, but do you try to make sense of what you learn? I could have told you Dilandau wouldn't appreciate you pulling a chair out for him, or opening doors. Those are things you do for women."
"Geez. Yeah, so guys do it for women, but they could do it for other people too. I was just letting him know I wanted him to sit on that side of me. I wasn't trying to emasculate him or anything. If he studied me and made sense of what he learned, he'd know I wasn't trying to do that."
Folken didn't hide his chuckle then. "Van, if you're studying Dilandau, you're failing miserably! He doesn't care that you didn't mean anything degrading by what you did, he cares that other people saw what you did and had degrading thoughts."
Van's mouth dropped open. "Dilandau doesn't care what other people think!"
Folken's shoulders shook with laughter. "Oh, he cares when they think he's the girl in the relationship. Dilandau doesn't care when people think he's mean; he cares when the ladies in waiting start asking him to join their quilting circles."
Van flushed and Folken had to grab the table to keep from falling over. He saw Dilandau sitting in that very chair, ranting about young women and old ladies alike patting his hands and wanting to trade relationship tips over tea and apple strudel. Oh gods, Dilandau loved Van dearly to put up with all of that, but honestly if these boys didn't start talking to each other, their relationship would be over before it really started.
And it would be a shame, because they were good for each other.
"He talks to you about this too." Van's voice was soft. Folken stopped laughing and straightened up. "What all does he say? Is he unhappy with me?"
Folken wanted to roll his eyes, but refrained. He came to stand by his brother, resting a hand on the top of his head. "Dilandau's happier with you than he is with anyone else."
"Then why... it's like we'll have good days, and then there's bad days, and sometimes we'll have good days that turn bad. I hate when he's mad at me. Do you and Marie...?"
Folken smirked. "Marie and I bicker all the time. We have ups and downs, and sometimes it seems like mostly downs, because I feel like I don't know what I'm doing and can't give her what she wants. But then I have to realize that what she wants is me, and though I might irritate her, I'm not disappointing her. All relationships have their waves. You prove how good the relationship is by riding them out."
"But what if the waves are too big?"
"Then you decide how good of a swimmer you are. If you're a poor swimmer, you look for land. But Van, you and Dilandau are doing just fine. You're feeling each other out and learning the do's and don't's. When a relationship is new, everything is easier, but as it matures, you have to work at it. Your situations and circumstances are changing, Van. You and Dilandau had your fun while Dilandau was recovering. Now that he's resumed his responsibilities, he's got a public image to maintain, as do you."
"But everyone knows we're together. They know I'll do things, or he'll do things and..."
Folken pulled up a chair. All right. Folken was making this more complicated than it had to be. Van was worried about the fate of his relationship, and Folken wasn't making it better by giving him relationship philosophy. All Van could see was that Dilandau seemed to be mad at him most of the time and Folken was telling him that most people in relationships had to fight everyday to keep their heads above water. Those weren't encouraging words to a young boy courting his first boyfriend, especially since they really hadn't hit waves yet... Unless Van continued being dense. The problem was...
"Van." Folken took his brother's hands. "When you look at Dilandau, what do you see?"
Van's eyes went wide. "Folken!"
Folken widened his eyes to match Van's. "Well?"
Van blushed and looked away. "Gods, I see... He's beautiful, Folken. He's like some statue come to life. I've seen people do triple takes when he passes by, and girls and guys fanning themselves. What does what Dilandau looks like have to do with anything?"
"It has to do with everything, Van. You describe him as beautiful. How many men do you know like to be called beautiful by other men?"
"Ah..." Van looked confused.
"Precisely. Dilandau has to deal with people assuming he's dainty at first glance. He feels he has something to prove to every man that raises a brow at him. So, imagine that you've built up this amazing military status. At fifteen, a king is ready to give you an appointment as general. You've got this small team of soldiers that can take the place of a moderately sized army that lingers on your every word. You'll have a section all about you in history books. The enemy trembles when they hear your name. Now, imagine all of that work undone by someone pulling out your chairs, opening doors, and treating you like the dainty thing you proved yourself not to be."
Van blinked. "I..." He stuttered. "But I... only did it once!"
"I'm sure you've done other little things too, Van. Things he's tried to ignore, but those old ladies asking him to join their tea parties was the last straw. His tough guy reputation is suffering, because it seems to the entire castle that you're taking the role of 'boy' friend."
"I haven't changed! I haven't changed anything! I've always... helped him."
"When he needed it. Van, he's as strong as he ever was now. He doesn't need the extra care. It's sweet. The only reason why he hasn't killed you is because you're kind and thoughtful and totally clueless. Van, you're making Dilandau feel like the girl in the relationship, and he doesn't like it."
Van's mouth hung open. "But... Folken, we play darts and have sword fight and..."
"And you hold back."
"I don't want to hurt him. He..." Van put his head in his hands. "Gods, Folken. He was so weak then. Every time we wrestle and I wrap my arms around him, I remember back when he felt like I could break him. I want to... protect him. I want to show him how special he is to me in everything that I do. I... don't know what else I can do to express that, but to... to..."
"Coddle him?"
Van sighed, a guiltier sound Folken had never heard. "Ah, Folken. I didn't realize it was so obvious. I should have known he'd pick up on it. Gah! But he should talk to me about it instead of giving me the cold shoulder and telling you. Geez. I guess I should go find him or something."
Folken nodded, though he knew Van couldn't see it, and squeezed his brother's hands. "You two still have a lot of things to figure out."
Van groaned, raising his head so Folken could see his eyes. "I know."
"And you also know that I'll be here to help you and Dilandau when you need it."
Van nodded. "Yeah. You and the guys, the Slayers, I mean. Now that I think about it, I think they've been trying to tell me what you just did too. But they should know by now that I don't get subtle."
Folken and Van chuckled together.
"Well." Van stood up and brushed soft wrinkles out of his clothing. "I guess I'll go see if I can find him now. What are you going to do this afternoon?"
Folken shrugged, also standing to walk Van to the door. He was going out himself in a minute. He glanced at the clock on the wall. "Marie wants to try out an outdoor restaurant on the coast. I was supposed to have met her 10 minutes ago."
Van frowned. "I'm sorry, you should have said..."
Folken shook his head. "It's fine. She'll understand." She knows that she's not the only person I'm building a relationship with.
"Ok, I guess. But if she hunts me down, I'm telling her what you said." Van gave Folken a quick hug before turning down the hall in the direction of Dilandau's room. Folken shook his head and removed his lab coat. He draped it over his arm as he walked to Marie's room.
Van had nothing to worry about. Marie would never take out her frustrations with Folken on anybody else but Folken. He gulped before knocking on the woman's door. She was probably dressed and sitting on her bed, tapping her feet and wearing that awful scowl that let Folken know he was in for it.
Lord Dryden told Folken he and Marie sounded like an old married couple. If that was the case, Folken was going to invest in counseling while they were still young.
"Come in."
Folken frowned, trying to analyze the tone of her voice. Did she sound mad, irritated, evil, indifferent? He couldn't tell. He pushed open the door slowly and entered the room.
"Marie?"
The main lights were out. A few tall, unscented candles sat on the bedside table, vanity and dresser. There was a dark shape on the bed that shifted when Folken called Marie's name. Folken moved closer to the bed as the soft candlelight fell on the shape. Marie rose from her lounging position on the bed. Her shoulder length red hair was loose about her shoulders, falling into her eyes. Folken reached out to brush the soft hair from he forehead. "Marie?"
She wore a translucent, indecently short gown that dipped too low in the front. Folken could see the top of her lacy black brassiere and the bottoms of her lacy black panties. Folken was suddenly in need of a very cold shower. He felt hot, sticky and...
Marie tilted her head back, face running over the fingers he'd used to brush her hair back with until her lips met his fingertips. She kissed them.
"Marie, what are you doing? You aren't dressed. I thought we were..." Nervousness shifted in his stomach along with greed. He watched the gown rise to reveal the panties and the tight white flesh above them, and fall to cover it all up again. His hands itched; his body itched.
Marie's green eyes narrowed, and her mouth moved to his fingers again, biting them. "Get naked, now!"
Folken blinked. "Huh?" Everything was moving so slowly. His brain was melting, and he could no longer give intelligible responses. He felt an ache in his groin as the member stirred to life. He wanted...
"The brats are all occupied! It's now or die virgins. Get naked or I'll do it for you!"
Folken felt soft hands and scratchy nails ripping at his clothes. Buttons snapped as the woman peeled him out of his shirt like a fruit. Folken could only stand there stupidly, gazing at her with his mouth open. The brats were all occupied?
Wait. Did that mean... "No interruptions?" Folken came back to himself, unfastening his pants before Marie could get to them. He jumped onto the bed, and they both bounced for a moment before attacking each other. Folken didn't know where to start, but Marie did. She had his underwear off long before he'd figured out how to untie her gown. He laid under her, naked as the day he was born, curious about what was going to happen next. The woman sat on his chest in her lingerie, smirking down at him proudly, like he was some mountain she'd climbed and claimed in the name of Marie.
"How do you want to this, Folken?"
There were different ways to do it? "Ah..."
Her smirk widened into an outright beam, then she laughed. She was laughing at him. Folken glowered. "Oh my gods, Folken. Oh my gods. Don't tell me you... You..." She stopped laughing. "Oh my gods."
Folken licked his lips. Marie's beam faded into a gentle smile, one with no teeth showing, just a small curve of her lips. In the candlelight, Folken thought she'd never looked so beautiful. "You've never done this before."
Folken shook his head.
Marie's head bowed, red hair hiding her face. "I know you're shy. I know you're a gentleman and I have to go so slowly with you, but I never for a moment thought that some nice girl hadn't scooped you up before me. There were no nice girls, Folken?"
"Only a mean red head."
"Oh."
Folken reached up to slick her hair behind her ears. Green eyes frowned at him. "I... I've never been anyone's first, Folken. I've told you this before, and I'm going to say it again. Please don't let me push you to do anything you're not ready for. Let me know, or push me away. I don't... want to hurt you; your first time should never hurt, and you should never feel forced. Do you understand?"
Folken smiled, letting his hands slide from her hair down her back. He gave her a little pull, and her body collapsed on top of his. Forehead to forehead, warm breath brushing each other's cheeks. "You won't hurt me, Marie. I trust you." He wanted... "I want my first time and any other times to be with you."
Marie blinked at him, lashes tickling the skin beneath his eyebrows. She laughed. It started off as a light giggle, but now she was practically roaring. "Ai, Folken, you're the corniest man alive, but you know what? I love you."
Folken didn't know if he should laugh or be insulted. This woman... He looked at her, his beautiful, mocking, intelligent Marie. This woman loved him, and all Folken wanted to do right then was love her back. "I love you too. Even if you think I'm too corny to be seen with you in public."
"We'll buy you a mask." Marie smothered Folken's reply with her mouth, pressing her lips against his. That was fine with Folken. He didn't need to talk. He hadn't had a good comeback anyway, so why ruin the moment? He rolled with her, over the bed, careful not to fall off. He found the hook on the front of her brassiere and pulled it loose. He worked it off her shoulders as she kissed his neck and chest. This was nice.
He was on top of her; she was on top of him. They struggled for dominance. She'd asked what position he liked, and he decided he wanted to be on top. As it turned out, Marie wanted to be on top too. The bed groaned and shook as they bounced and jerked. The comforter was on the floor.
Squeak. Honk. Scratch! Eeeeeerrrrk!
Folken frowned. That was a rather unusual noise for a bed to make. The bed shuddered.
"Folken?" Marie sounded alarmed.
Folken stilled.
"Folken, I think the bed's..."
They both yelled as the bed crashed to the floor. Folken wrapped his arms around Marie, collapsing his body over hers to protect her from the toppling canopy.
"Oh my gods!" Folken tried to sit up, but stopped at a sudden sharp pain in his ear and Marie's yelp.
"Oh shit."
They'd pulled off every article of clothing they wore, but not their jewelry.
"Folken, is that your earring?" Marie asked, voice strained.
"Marie, is now a good time to tell you how attractive I find your nipple ring? When did you have it done?"
"That... ouch... that last time Pearce and I...shit... went out on the town. He... ow... got one too. "
Folken would have laughed if the bottom half of his ear didn't feel like it was bleeding. "Marie, I can't see and my arms are under you, so you're going to have to untangle us."
"No can do. I can't move. You're on my arms too, and I need both of them to get the damn nipple ring out. It's got a ball and screw."
"You can jiggle your arms free!"
"When I jingle, my tits move!"
"What possessed you to get your breasts pierced?"
"You just said it was sexy!"
"Oh Folken!"
Folken tensed and Marie hissed beneath him. They heard shuffling outside the door and many, many familiar giggles.
"Dilandau?" Folken somehow kept his voice calm.
"Is the doctor in?" Dilandau started laughing as soon as he said it. Folken recognized Guimel's voice, coaching Dilandau on what to say.
Oh gods. Were all of the brats outside the door? Hadn't Marie said they were all... occupied... Folken's eyes narrowed. "Dilandau, we've had a mishap with Marie's bed, and I'd really hate to think you had anything to do with this."
More laughter.
"Oi vay," Marie groaned. "I let Dallet in here yesterday to raise the head of my bed. Damn acid reflux. They must have come in and sawed the legs or something. Did you little punks sabotage my bed?"
If they laughed any harder they would explode, and Folken wouldn't mourn their passing.
"How did they know when to do this?" Marie was grumbling. "How did they know when I'd try and when you'd come..."
"Van," Folken said. Van had been coming to speak to him at the same times each day, finding some reason to ask about his relationship with Marie. The little brat was keeping tabs on Folken.
"Pearce," Marie sighed. "He's been confiding in me lately, and I've been using us as an example... dammit! Pearce!"
"Van!"
"They made me!" Van shouted.
"The prank would have been expanded to include me, if I didn't help them get you," Pearce said.
Folken wished he could glare at the door, but he couldn't move his head. Damn kids. Damn Pearce! Why? "Why?"
"Well, Folken, remember all those months ago, right before we joined you here in Astoria, there was a little incident involving a sprinkler system you installed in my Oreades along with a large water hose."
Folken's eyes widened. The sprinklers Dilandau kept alluding to when he'd first gotten there. Folken had no idea what he was talking about... because he'd never mentioned them in the same context as his Oreades. Those sprinklers and that hose.
Oh.
"They worked?" Folken couldn't help but ask. Marie shifted beneath him then hissed in pain. She'd wanted to smack him, Folken could tell by the way her arm muscles bunched up beneath him.
"Oh yeah. They worked, and I suppose I should be thanking you. I might have maimed my sister, if they hadn't. So, thanks from Celena and me."
Marie snorted. "Nice way to show gratitude, brat! Now..."
Now what? They were completely naked and in a very compromising position. They couldn't very well ask the boys to come in and help them.
They looked at each other.
Shit.
"Well, we've bothered you two love birds enough for one afternoon. Have a pleasant romp, try to forget about our intrusion and your new lowered altitude."
They heard feet moving away from the door.
No. Wait.
"Folken, we need help!"
"But look at us!"
"I don't care! I'm not going to die with a virgin stuck to my boob! Boys! Dilandau! Come back here!"
Folken grimaced. He'd instinctively ducked his head a bit at Marie's yells. His ear was going to rip. He just knew it.
"Dammit Folken!" Marie squealed, her voice very high.
They laid there, Folken on top of Marie, Folken's head half turned and resting on Marie's left breast, and Marie flat on her back.
"Somehow, this isn't quite how I imagined my first time," Folken said with a light titter.
Marie snorted. "Yeah, but look at this way. You'll never forget it... and neither will the maid, when she finds us like this in the morning."
The morning? Folken shut his eyes.
"On an even lighter note, things can only get better from here, so you can look forward to things to come," Marie said. "Ah, ah, you moved, you're tugging..."
Folken readjusted his head with a gasp. "Better?"
"Y–yeah."
"Can second times be as special as firsts?"
"I think any second time will be better than this first, Love," Marie said and Folken smiled.
'Love'. He liked that. He liked a lot of things about his current life, current situation excluded, but... He smiled at the fact that Van had been in on the joke, working with Dilandau and the Slayers and Pearce, all people Folken was attached to. He'd gone from a man resigned to death to a man who wanted to wake up in the morning and face the day with the palace cleaning staff gawking at his naked hide.
Had love done this to him? Had love made him optimistic?
"Folken, I know this is a bad time to bring this up, but... I'm hungry."
Marie's stomach chose that moment to growl and Folken's echoed it in sympathy. He laughed and Marie joined him.
Love had made him realistic. This was life, and no outside forces governed it. There was no longer an Emperor who tried to control what people did. Folken had no more desire to make the world a perfect place. Perfection was false. Life was flawed, and the flaws... he laughed as his stomach growled again... were what gave life its thrills.
"Marie, I know this is a bad time to bring this up, but..."
"Hm?"
"Present situation aside, we've done a good job here."
"What? Won a war, saved a life, made a home, and set ourselves free?"
"Yeah." Folken said with a soft sigh. All of that and more. "And I'm..."
"Happy?"
"Yeah," Folken said. "Are you?"
"Of course. Folken, present situation aside, you've done good job, period."
"Yeah?" He felt warm.
"Yes."
They lay there, warm bodies pressed against each others, breathing lightly. They heard voices in the hall again, but didn't call for help.
Il Finito...
Author's Note: Well, what's the verdict? Like it? Hate it? Don't care either way? Either way, let me know. Please review. ONE MORE MIGUEL ONE-SHOT AND SHORT EPILOGUE TO GO. I will put them up within the week. Thanks so much guys!