Another long chapter, I hope that's okay!

Vampire Academy and Dimitri will always belong to Richelle Mead :-D

Dimitri walked out of the auditorium shakily, Sasha joining him. Other classmates pushed and rushed past them, happy to be free for the weekend, chattering excitedly about Schoenberg and the first chosen novices. A few complained good-naturedly about their 3-hour Strigoi monitoring blocks landing during their off time, but generally the mood was cheerful and energetic.

"He said he's going to meet with everyone," Sasha said uncertainly, confused and almost nervous, for once not as upbeat as his surroundings. One of the Badica twins shoved him, probably accidentally, into Dimitri in his rush down the stairs. Dimitri kept his balance, barely noticing. "I'm sure you'll be in the next group."

"Of course," Dimitri managed, but the sinking feeling in his gut told him how little he believed it. Sasha, Katya, and the other novices Nikitin had called were some of the best in his class, but he was the acknowledged top. His name should have been first on the list. That it wasn't told him exactly how his actions with the Strigoi were being viewed by his guardian instructors. He had very likely derailed his entire career.

Warm, shared laughter ahead of him twisted his stomach further. Zeklos and Katya's happiness was unmistakable. He glanced at them then forced his eyes away, scanning the darkness out of habit - and out of a desperate need to see anything, hear anything, feel anything other than the painful reality that Katya and Zeklos had slept together. He'd been with enough girls to know that sex didn't have to mean a lifelong connection, but he couldn't shake the fear that Zeklos now had just one more future way of worming himself back into Katya's life. On most levels he knew that their intimacy had been inevitable - he'd just denied to himself that it could happen so soon. He'd counted on the stricter guardian rules enforcement to keep them, if not apart, then at least more cautious and less comfortable with any hoped-for privacy.

Thoughts of the guardians confused him briefly, giving him another much-needed distraction, at first unable to process the reason for his unease. Sasha continued descending the steps beside him, seemingly wanting to ask questions or offer support. Instead he remained silent, possibly because he simply did not know what else to say.

The auditorium sat back from the four main campus buildings on a slight hill, placed on a wide corner of the lopsided square formed by the main buildings, giving Dimitri a good vantagepoint of most of the central campus. A wide apron of two dozen steps stretched down to the sidewalk. Globe gaslights lined both sides of the steep stairway at regular intervals, stretching from the massive, triple sets of auditorium doors, down to join the lanterns lining the concrete paths. Most of the students moved ahead of him and Sasha, dispersing in multiple directions, some entering dorms, the library, or other nearby buildings. A few headed farther, beyond the buildings but still within the lights of the main campus, taking advantage, despite the cold, of the calm overcast night to simply not be indoors. The majority, however, stayed close, walking along the sidewalks and through the large, snow-dusted, open expanse set in the middle of the main buildings.

Dimitri especially noted Malina and Catherine. He hadn't meant to focus on them but he couldn't help himself: he wanted, very badly, to simply see her face. She and Catherine had exited the auditorium in one of the first groups and had reached the far side of the main expanse. Malina appeared to be heading toward her dorm but Catherine seemed to have other ideas. He shelved his concerns for her, hoping he could find some way later to talk to her.

Tracking his fellow classmates, Dimitri realized what had bothered him about the guardians, a frighteningly simple answer: none were present. The wards provided the most essential protection from Strigoi, but no guardian would ever depend on Moroi magic more than their own eyes and ears. Guardians always shadowed the students: standing silent in the back of classes, patrolling around buildings, mingling among them on the outdoor walkways. They were omnipresent but unobtrusive, so much so that their absence registered like the absence of a class bell. Dimitri scanned the scene again, wondering if he'd somehow missed a new formation or patrol pattern, but the lack of guardians remained glaring.

Dimitri turned, hoping to find Nikitin still in the auditorium, wondering suddenly if he would get answers. He'd assumed that Nikitin would explain the guardians' actions if he asked, but the guardians had asked him to stay silent regarding his own encounter with the Striogi. It was disturbingly possible that his was not the first secret they had kept. His eyes swept the stairs once more as he turned, still seeking the guardians, but once again his attention was derailed by Zeklos and Katya.

They continued down the stairs below him, stopping just a few steps from the bottom, Zeklos taking an extra step down to minimize their height differential. While Dimitri watched, once again unable to look away, Zeklos stared into her eyes, then leaned over and kissed Katya's cheek. He lingered there, gathering her in his arms, and his mouth trailed down her jaw to the pulse in her neck. He held her tighter and smiled, his fangs illuminated by the gaslights. Dimitri was between them without a conscious thought.

He pulled Katya behind him to safety and swung, catching Zeklos in a clean hit across the jaw that should have knocked Zelklos flat. Instead, in the next instant Dimitri found himself on his back in the snow, half on the sidewalk, half on the ground, fighting to breathe. Zeklos had caught his arm on the tail end of the punch and pulled him off-balance, taking him down the last handful of stairs and tackling him to the ground.

"Dammit, Belikov!" Zeklos swore, hands pinning his shoulders, face inches from his own. "What is your problem?"

Dimitri struggled, still unable to breathe or speak, barely able to move, wind painfully knocked out of him from the impact and from his lungs being further compressed by Zeklos's weight. Humiliation and anger competed beyond the simple battle to breathe. He knew better than to attack without a solid base but his control had splintered. He'd swung without thinking, and Zeklos had somehow – through his mistake and Zeklos's insane luck – been able to take his momentum and redirect it to his own advantage. He hadn't made a mistake so foolish since his first hand-to-hand class in elementary school; Zeklos shouldn't have been able to touch him, much less incapacitate him. He twisted his legs, trying to flip Zeklos off him, but Zeklos's wiry bulk planted solidly on his torso.

"Do we need to fight this out?" Eye to eye, Zeklos's frustration was palpable. "Is that the only thing you understand?"

"Once Ivan gets done kicking your ass it's my turn," Katya caught up with them, furious and shaking. "I officially don't care what's wrong with you anymore. I've tried to be your friend and all you've done is throw that in my face. I'm done with you."

Dimitri felt like he'd been punched in a different way. Even though their romantic and physical connection was long over, Katya had always been his friend. She'd never threatened, even in teasing, that she'd prefer to not be part of his life. Her safety was more important, though. If she hated him, so be it.

He finally sucked in enough breath for seven words, coming out in a gravely whisper. "Keep your filthy Moroi mouth off her."

Katya bent down, looming over him. "Is that was this is about – this time?" she hissed. "I am not a -" she bit back the word, unwilling to say it out loud, even in her anger. "I am not like your mother."

Something that looked like understanding flickered across Zeklos's face, and, in a white-hot flash, Dimitri headbutted him and got his left arm free. He wouldn't allow Zeklos to use his mother's weakness against him. He normally fought right dominant but both the Strigoi bite and dislocation had been his right shoulder. His left side was weaker but more than strong enough to hit Zeklos alongside his head.

Zeklos reeled, losing his grip, and Dimitri took the opening. He rolled, flipping them, and once he had Zeklos down he started punching. He landed only a half dozen hits before Sasha and two other novices dragged him away.

Unrestrained, Zeklos lept to his feet much faster than Dimitri expected and charged him. He smashed into him full-bodied, going straight for his gut, hitting him with rapid-fire, boxer-style punches. Already winded from the initial impact with the ground, these new blows – coupled with Sasha holding him back on one side and the two other novices restraining him on the other – doubled him over, frantic and gasping, flashing back to his father's favorite, bruise-less torture. He tore his arms away from Sasha and the other novices and punched back, his blows landing with less weight than normal but enough to draw satisfying grunts of pain.

More hands grabbed at him, at least a dozen novices this time, hands on his shoulders, arms, around his torso, bodies coming between him and Zeklos, pushing him back. He tore through them again and - arm fully extended - connected with Zeklos's jaw. Rather than falling back, Zeklos rushed him and slammed his knuckles into his face. The crunch of his nose breaking and the blood gushing from his face slowed him only slightly, but it was enough for his classmates to finally wrap themselves around him and block him from Zeklos. A hand thrust a towel into his clenched fist and guided it to his face.

"Let me through."

Malina's order cut through the novices surrounding him. They parted just enough to let her in, hands and bodies still holding him in place.

"What now, Cowboy?" she said, sounding annoyed and irritable, trying to catch her breath. To get to him so quickly she must have run all the way across the quad. "What were you thinking?"

He still couldn't speak, but his lungs finally inflated just enough and he took gulping breaths around the towel, still filling with blood. She stepped closer and his friends let her, sensing him relaxing in her presence.

"Let me see," she said quietly, reaching for the towel. He shook his head, still breathing deep.

"Anyone care to tell me what all the excitement is about?" Guardian Schoenberg's easy, conversational tone belied the seriousness behind his question. He approached Dimitri's group at a stroll, still wearing only his white-and-black guardian garb. Despite the brisk Siberian day – not as cold as some February days but definitely below freezing – he wore no coat.

Malina's stance, in front of Dimitri and between him and Guardian Schoenberg, coincidentally blocked him from Schoenberg's line of sight. Her green eyes widened as she recognized his voice. She knew as well as he the penalty for fighting outside of class. He was about to be expelled.

She turned around, still in front of him. Once again he had the bizarre sense that she wanted to protect him, but his actions had put him beyond help. He'd lost control, fully and completely, and nothing could save him now. His classmates' grip on him had gone slack at Schoenberg's casual greeting but he stayed in place just seconds longer, taking more gulping breaths, trying to catch enough air to speak.

Finally unwilling to hide any longer, he stepped up beside Malina. Schoenberg identified him as the source of the disturbance quite easily, but his initial response was simply two raised eyebrows. "You're a mess," he said. He came closer and Dimitri's friends parted to let him through. "Let me see," he said, holding his hand out for the towel.

He'd declined Malina's request but Dimitri couldn't disobey a guardian order. Hoping that the bleeding had stopped, he pulled the towel away and met Schoenberg's eyes. He kept breathing through his mouth, trying not to hyperventilate, trying futilely to stop his heart from racing. The blood had stopped gushing but still dripped slowly, metallic and nauseating on his lips.

Schoenberg studied his face, eyes flicking only once to Malina, pressing close to him. "Looks broken," he said finally. "Care to tell me what happened?"

Schoenberg continued speaking English, so out of respect Dimitri answered in the same language. His voice was rough but audible. "I was fighting, sir."

"Really." Schoenberg's response wasn't a question, but he seemed to realize that he was missing someone. He looked around and located Zeklos, staggering slightly to his feet. He had been resting on the steps, sitting beside Katya with his head in his hands, elbows on his knees, but now he stood and met Schoenberg's gaze without flinching. He came down the last steps and stopped just meters away, also breathing deep.

"Hello, sir," Zeklos said. His flawless English held a hint of an American accent. He cradled his right hand carefully against his chest, his jaw puffy and already discoloring with bruises. He had moved hunched over slightly in pain, but now with effort straightened to his full height.

"Hello," Schoenberg answered politely, but his eyes flashed in anger as he turned back to Dimitri. He'd clearly expected to find another dhampir on the other end of the fight. Attacking a Moroi was inexcusable, and even this easy-going man's temper flared when he realized his new student had injured a Moroi.

"It was my fault, sir," Zeklos called out before Schoenberg could descend on Dimitri.

"How exactly do you figure that?" Schoenberg's jaw clenched.

"It's my fault," Zeklos repeated. He shrugged off Katya's restraining hand on his arm. "I said his mother was a blood whore."

The novices surrounding Dimitri took in a collective breath and even Schoenberg paused. His anger didn't fade, but redirected slightly. Guardians technically had no jurisdiction over Moroi students, but the insult was horrific enough that even Schoenberg reacted.

"What?" he asked, turning back.

"You heard me. Sir." Zeklos added. "I called his mother a blood whore."

Schoenberg's voice tightened, though his words stayed casual. "Care to tell me why you'd say something like that?"

"It's not relevant," Zeklos answered swiftly. "I said it, I provoked him. If he's punished I should be as well."

"You realize the punishment for fighting is expulsion?"

Zeklos paused. "Yes, sir. And I suppose the St. Petersburg academy would take me back. But Novice Belikov would have a harder time. He's the top novice here at St. Basil's, sir. Expelling him would result in the loss of an excellent potential guardian. Surely you could make an exception. This was an interpersonal conflict between friends, not an attack."

"Nice speech," Schoenberg commented drily. "Tell me, do you usually insult your friends and break their noses?"

Straight-faced, Zeklos answered, "Only my best friends."

Schoenberg looked at him, trying to determine if he was serious or joking. He stroked his long sideburns, shaking his head. "What is your name?" he asked, more curious than censoring.

"Ivan Zeklos, sir."

"Zeklos. Which line are you?"

"The Romanian line."

Schoenberg raised both eyebrows. "The founding line?"

Zeklos shrugged, looking around at the growing crowd of both novices and Moroi, ducking his head slightly. "I don't advertise it."

Schoenberg narrowed his eyes, assessing him through his reactions. "I guarded your grandmother years ago."

"I know, sir."

"She was a great queen."

"So they tell me, sir. She retired when I was little. To me she's just Grandmother." Zeklos held Schoenberg's gaze but shifted uncomfortably, seeming almost embarrassed.

Schoenberg looked like he wanted to ask more questions but stopped himself. "Maybe someday I can tell you some stories about your grandmother," he said instead. "I haven't been able to visit her in the last few years. When you see her, please give her my best."

"Of course, sir."

Schoenberg paused, and redirected himself. "So, Ivan Zeklos, you and Novice –"

"Belikov. Dimitri Belikov."

"- Novice Dimitri Belikov are very good friends who have some unnamed conflict that could only be solved by insults and beating the crap out of one another."

Zeklos didn't hesitate. "Yes, sir."

Schoenberg turned to Dimitri. "Is that your story, too?"

Dimitri sucked in a breath, caught off guard by Schoenberg's sudden attention. He'd watched their exchange with fascination, almost forgetting why the questioning was taking place. For a moment, he'd believed – hoped – that Schoenberg had forgotten he was there. Now faced with Schoenberg's question, he couldn't hesitate. He couldn't begin to fathom Zeklos's reasons, but Zeklos's story presented his only chance, however slight, at not being expelled. "Yes, sir." He lied.

Schoenberg addressed him again. "You realize you could have killed him."

Dimitri started to nod but Zeklos interrupted, calling attention back to himself. "I'm not helpless. My guardians taught me some self-defense, some hand-to-hand, too. And Dimitri wouldn't kill me." Dimitri blinked, startled somehow to hear Zeklos use his first name. "The fact that I got in any hits on him at all should prove that he was doing everything he could not to use his advantages."

"Your face tells a different story," Schoenberg noted, voice dry once again.

"I didn't say he didn't land a few hits," Zeklos corrected, then added, carefully, "Sir. I just meant that he showed great restraint despite our conflict."

Schoenberg blew out a breath and turned back to Dimitri, eyes flicking again to Malina. "The rules against fighting are in place to keep conflict from spilling out of the practice rooms. Interpersonal problems between novices can usually be handled under the pretense of supervised sparring, but I can see that we don't really have a system in place to handle conflict between novice and Moroi students. Of course you could always communicate your differences…" he glared at Dimitri, then Zeklos, "but I vaguely remember being eighteen and having some issues that were best resolved with a few well-placed punches."

"So you'll help us? Sir." Zeklos asked, sounding – to Dimitri's ears – surprisingly hopeful.

Schoenberg looked again at Dimitri, then Zeklos. "Technically I don't have authority here, but I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you, sir," Dimitri managed.

"Thank you," Zeklos echoed quietly. Then he added, suddenly, "Sir?"

"Pushing your luck, Mr. Zeklos?"

"I hope not, sir, I was just realizing that you're the only guardian in the vicinity…" His voice trailed off.

Dimitri closed his eyes, hoping Zeklos wasn't suggesting that Schoenberg refrain from reporting them. He'd started to believe, yet again, that Zeklos might be less evil than his father, but suggesting a guardian cover up a rule infraction, especially one as serious as a physical altercation screamed – at the very least – of the kind of privilege Zeklos had growing up with as the grandson of a queen.

Schoenberg raised both eyebrows. His words eerily echoed Dimtri's thoughts. "I see you take after your father."

"What?" Zeklos answered, startled. He took a moment, processing the old guardian's words. "NO," he said emphatically. "I wasn't suggesting that you stop from reporting our fight. I meant it when I said my punishment should match Novice Belikov's." He took a deep breath and his voice took on a carefully indifferent tone. "I was just curious where all the guardians were."

Dimitri wondered if Schoenberg would answer, if he believed Zeklos's dissembling. "You are still being protected," he said, finally. "Never doubt that."

"I believe you, sir." Zeklos said, but his answer held a sense of incompletion, of waiting for more.

Schoenberg looked him in the eye and seemed to make a decision. "Your guardians and faculty are still in the auditorium," Schoenberg said, rubbing his sideburns with his large hand. "They asked my opinion, I told them. Then I left. They can argue and fight among themselves all they want, that's not why I'm here."

He sounded tired and disgusted and looked away, grumbling further. "I retired two years ago from the Guardian Council," he continued, "and I refuse to be in charge again. I'm tired of politics. I'm here to help, but I'm remembering all over again why guarding the prince is like a vacation."

The novices stood unmoving, almost not breathing, shocked at the realization that this living legend was sharing his less-than-political opinions with them – and stunned that there was a person behind the persona.

Schoenberg shook his head, seemingly startled by his own introspection and how much he'd shared. Recovering, he redirected his attention.

"In the meantime, Novice Belikov, please go to the infirmary and have your face looked at. Mr. Zeklos, you, too. Anyone care to accompany my new young friends?"

Malina stepped up, placing herself in front of Dimitri once again. "I'll go."

Schoenberg turned his full attention on her and she flinched under his stare. His voice took on a surprisingly hard edge. "And you are?"

"Malina Ivashkov," she answered meekly, "Sir."

"Ivashkov?" He shook his head again as if to clear it and briefly closed his eyes. "Never mind, I'll deal with the genealogy later. You think you can get your boyfriend to the infirmary?"

Malina didn't correct his assumption. "Yes, sir."

"Do we have a friend for Mr. Zeklos?" he raised his voice, looking around.

Katya snorted irreverently, linking her arm through Ivan's. "Anyone else who wants to is going to have to go through me."

Schoenberg raised both eyebrows, looking between Malina and Dimitri, and Katya and Zeklos. "It looks like you boys will be well taken care of. I'll go back to the guardian meeting and see if I can get this settled quickly. No promises. Belikov, be ready to pack."

Dimitri couldn't allow himself hope and almost welcomed Schoenberg's bluntness. "Yes, sir."

Just some ramblings about Schoenberg, because I continue to be the Queen of Overthinking These Things :-D...

Richelle says just a few things about Arthur Schoenberg, and I tried to pull them together with my opinions of what his personality might be based on his actions. He's a legendary Strigoi slayer, Rose says his exploits were part of her curriculum, he used to be the Head of the Guardians Council, but in Frostbite was guarding a royal Badica family - but Rose didn't say anything about it being a prince or princess's family. He's also doing "us" - Dimitri and Rose - a favor by running Rose's test. Dimitri is on a first-name basis with him. A woman guardian who looked about 25 - about a year older than Dimitri - said Schoenberg was her mentor. Have I missed any other references to Schoenberg that I need to work in?

So - I made some assumptions that someone as legendary as Schoenberg would have definitely been promoted to guard a queen at some point in his career, because the Queen would naturally get the best guardians. But he was also the Head of the Guardian Council, and at some point mentored students. Then why would this amazing guardian end up in Montana, guarding an average royal family? I think he'd have to have retired first to guard a Prince or Princess, and something happened, either something he did or by his own choice, that led him to where he is in Frostbite. And Dimitri knows him well enough to call him by his first name and well enough that Schoenberg would be willing to do him and Rose a favor and run her guardian test, so where did they get to know each other that well? And where exactly did Schoenberg mentor students in his amazing career? I imagined that he'd have to have been teaching and mentoring concurrently with everything else. I suppose he could have started when he retired, but I liked the idea that he did it all along, possibly influencing Dimitri later on to work and mentor at Rose's academy. I also figured someone who assigned guardians (as part of the Guardian Council) and spent his life protecting high-level Moroi and moving in political circles would be preoccupied with lineage, so I worked that in as well. Anything else I'm missing?...

I had to make one small edit - Queen Zeklos retired '20 years ago' (p 496 LS) - but that's 20 years ago from Rose's time, so about 13-14 years prior for Dimitri during his senior year. So Queen Zeklos would have retired when Ivan and Dimitri were very young (not before Ivan was born, like I had initially).

As always, thank you so much for reading and especially for reviewing!