7-June-2002
Twisted Fortune - An Escaflowne Fanfiction
By Bonnejeanne and Nixers
Contact: bonnejeanne@yahoo.com and nixerchan@aol.com
Warnings: Spoilers, LEMON
Notes: Set a little over one year after Vision of Escaflowne's end.
Chapter Fifteen - On the Crusade (cont)
Part 38
Dilandau sheathed his sword smoothly, and folded his arms across his chest, this time hardly giving more than the slightest twitch at the unfamiliar fabric beneath uncovered fingers. He gave a vicious smile to the sorcerer, considering his options. While the sorcerer was trying to pull himself together, to find some argument to deter the albino, or to merely retain some of his arrogant veneer, Dilandau turned half towards Van, obviously taking a sadistic pleasure in watching the gaunt man squirm.
"You know, I've had so many good ideas on how to kill a sorcerer, I can't pick just one," he said, affecting a tragic tone.
Van glanced at the squirming man and his eyes seemed to take on a touch of scarlet. "Don't forget there are three more... this is just a warm up," he growled quietly. If the sorcerer had expected the Fanelian king to be a civilizing influenced, he'd reckoned without the king's memories of his time in their hands, and the deep scars left by their actions.
"A marvelous point," Dilandau said, taking his time in advancing. At the king's words, the sorcerer seemed to completely crack, slumping as if someone had cut the strings to him suddenly. Before he completely fell, a fast hard fist impacted into the wizards ribs, heralded by an audible crack of brittle bones. The man finished the fall without even a groan, turning entirely slackfaced.
The lack of response drew a full growl out of the Captain. The fine Asturian sword came out of its sheath again, the blade parting skin as he used the tip of it to lever the man's unexpressive face upward by the chin. The slight temporary fogginess on the blade was the only sign that the wizard still lived.
A hard bootheel followed the path of the fist, impacting, but without reaction. The sound of frustration this time was less like a growl, and more like a strangled half scream. "Not possible! That's MY trick, you bastard!"
Van sheathed his sword - stuck it back in his belt - and moved to the still figure warily. He pushed the man onto his stomach and checked the bindings to make certain they were secure. The Crusade crewman hadn't bothered with rope, he'd used metal manacles.
The king turned the man over roughly, and stripped the clothing from his upper body, tore the material into strips and bound the man's feet tightly. He reached down, glad of his gloves preventing the necessity of skin to skin contact, and lifted one of the sorcerer's closed lids to check his pupils.
The pupils had dilated to an all encompassing black, overtaking all but a hairlength of iris. Even in the well lit cargo room, they didn't contract to a normal, and less unsettling size. The single eye merely stared straight ahead, unresponsive.
Dilandau had taken a step back from the sorcerer while Van had attended to the man's bindings, struggling to calm himself down. Clenching the hilt of his sword tightly he asked, "What are you looking for?"
Van shrugged. He looked up. "I don't understand this kind of animal," he said succinctly. "It's dangerous. But you might have more luck if we wait a little while."
Glancing disdainfully at the wizard, only slightly pleased at the obvious indent where a small portion of ribs had collapsed, Dilandau fought off another wave of frustration at the assessment. Letting him live was distasteful. After a moment he said with a half snarl, "Given a choice between safety and satisfaction," Dilandau let his expression slide into a smirk. "Well... I've never given a damn about safety."
Van stood up, glancing at the other boy. He'd guessed as much, which was why he'd bound the captive's feet, pointless if they were just going to slit his throat. He nodded. "We can get Allen to have someone watch it. If it wakes up or moves around," he shrugged. "You can have another opportunity."
"Ahou," Dilandau muttered, glowering at the bound captive then shrugged and sheathed his blade again with a little more force than was necessary. "I'm not a fan of irony," he said. "Next time I'll have a way to keep it from doing ... that.... again."
Van walked over to the tall boy and moved behind him, sliding his arms around the other's waist. He nodded. "You said... that was your trick," he said quietly, his arms tightening. He didn't ask any further clarification, simply pulled Dilandau back against him and bent to kiss his neck. His own bottled emotions gave the caress an extra measure of heat.
The other boy leaned back easily, as if he'd been waiting for an excuse for contact. One bare hand curled around Van's forearm and his eyes slid half shut at the entire gesture. The idea of refusing to answer hadn't occurred. "Hn. Leave and take everything with you. It used to frustrate them quite a bit if their reactions later were any measure," he said, a touch of slightly proud amusement taking root in his tone.
Van's arms tightened just a little more, his hands spreading out on the albino's body possessively. He was a little torn between a sudden deep pain at the images the other boy's words conjured in his imagination, and an equally strong flash of deadly rage. He didn't think of the time he'd done the same thing, at the realization that he'd lost Serena. He answered the words with a soft, muffled growl of approval and another kiss, his lips traveling up behind the other boy's ear.
Finding one unforeseen advantage to the change of wardrobe, was the sheer feeling of contact, usually blocked by half an inch of armor. The feeling of heat and definition against his back was almost as pleasurable as the other's lips. Tilting his head back slightly, the taller boy grinned a bit rakishly, if unfocused. "Early on your promise... fine, I hate waiting."
A warm puff of breath against skin betrayed a silent laugh in response to that remark. "I've never liked it either," Van confessed. He stroked one hand along the taller boy's flank and across his hip. He felt his own body respond to the contours pressing against him, causing his pants to tighten achingly. "You're not as cold as you pretend sometimes," he murmured, licking the albino's ear and then nibbling the lobe of flesh.
The hand on Van's arm clenched slightly, the fingernails biting but not breaking flesh. Dilandau's other hand snaked up behind both of them to rest behind Van's neck, a silent urging. "It's my attraction to fire," he purred. "I've always preferred heat." At those words his hand drew a lingering caress, his fingers blindly following the contours of the Fanelian king's neck.
The albino turned in the embrace, pressing hard against the other when the ship gave something of a stomach-sucking bob in mid air as it rapidly lost momentum and began a decent. Passionate eyes shifted to frustrated as Dilandau growled. "The melefs..."
Van made a noise in his throat and pulled Dilandau close for a face to face, deep kiss, before releasing him. The heat that was coming off the king was far from banked but he ducked his head slightly, returning to his own habitual camouflage with a silent, partially suppressed sigh of his own regret.
Reaching out briefly to stroke his fingers down the side of Van's face Dilandau said, "Later," quietly, then in a much more cheerful tone, "And just kill any impertinent distractions," with a half grin.
Van's lips curved in answer and he nodded, easily accepting the flippant instructions.
Kaerin had remained outside of the room when Allen and the others left, granting the privacy that the king and captain would need. In his mind, he simply attributed it to standing as a guard, but he admitted with a slightly unrepentant twinge that he was taking advantage of the thin walls to find out what would happen to the sorcerer. He just hoped it was slow.
Unable to make out the words as much as tones from his vantage point, the young knight went from a sort of vicarious satisfaction, to a puzzled frown as the sounds were distinctly of enraged frustration... then a flush of heat below his cheeks as the tone changed again. To be able to make out the words wasn't even particularly necessary.
Knowing his ears were bright red, Kaerin slid away from the wall as quietly as possible, swearing to himself and on his honor to forget as immediately as possible. He turned towards the quarters, intending on putting both men's package's he'd taken in their rooms.... room, he amended with another hot flush. Shaking his head, he wasn't sure if reality could get any more strange.
On the bridge, Gaddes brought the ship to a halt at the place the Zaibach captain had indicated. Allen stood on the bridge beside him, arms crossed, lips pressed together with tightly suppressed emotion. The confrontation with the sorcerer below had inflamed his emotions and it took an effort to keep them under very icy restraint. He simply watched his crew do what they knew how to do so well.
The flat plains below, despite the directions, seemed to hold little sign of the guymelef's presence. With a mental shrug, Gaddes ordered the anchors down as the furnaces dropped the ship to a near ground level.
"Close enough," Dilandau's voice came from behind them, just outside of the bridge's open door.
A muscle in Allen's jaw twitched but he did not otherwise betray any indication of being surprised. Turning, he looked at the albino, and his ever present companion.
"That room needs a guard on it," Van said.
Allen raised an eyebrow this time, allowing a slight surprise to register. He glanced at Gaddes. "Make sure someone's on it, and have 'em look inside and check on the prisoner twice an hour."
Gaddes nodded and made a quick sign to one of the attending crewmembers. "Pile's got nothing to do for a while," he remarked.
Allen looked at Dilandau. "Your melef is concealed, I assume... bring it aft and my men will assist in the loading."
Dilandau shrugged, "Just have the cargo doors open, I can't afford the loading time."
Allen lifted an eyebrow but turned to Gaddes and nodded.
The first mate return the nod with a shrug, and a comment too low to be heard by anyone except the swordsman directly next to him, "Pushy, aint he?"
Allen's mouth twitched at the corner. "I guess some things never change," he returned in the same tone.
Not inclined to wait for something resembling a formal dismissal or even a sign that his request would be carried out, Dilandau straightened his sleeves irritably and turned sharply for the aft of the airship, pausing only to murmur to Van, "Ten minutes."
Van's brows drew slightly together but he simply nodded. At some point he was going to have to demonstrate trust or risk loosing it. He let the other boy leave, deciding that he would wait until he was out of the ship, and then make his own way to the cargo hold.
The Dragonslayer Captain managed to make it back to the other side of the ship by memory and simple layout that was absent in some of the Zaibach construction. Leaving had been a simple matter, but the desert night winds held an odd sense of vulnerability that seemed to have nothing to do with his missing armor. As much as he wanted to change back into that armor for this task - it would simplify some things - the Tomant boy, who had his baggage, had inconveniently disappeared.
Absently rubbing his forearms to warm them, he scanned the even ground. He lacked his companion's uncanny ability to simply know where the guymelefs were, but it didn't mean he didn't know what to look for. The machine hadn't been moved long ago, and the prints were still heavy in the hard ground and only half filled by loose dust carried by the air.
From there it was a little more difficult. The insistence on speed was not so much impatience as the inability to have the cockpit flooded while in those clothes. He hadn't expected the mechanics to fight him over the loading. Without the coolant, the machine had to be moved fast.
Waiting impatiently until the Crusade's aft doors opened wide, he finally keyed opened the hatch to the Alseides and quickly set into the controls. The machine was airborne a minute later. The landing within was a little hurried and rocked the airship to a large degree.
Inside the cargo hold, Van held on to a strut, watching the Alseides land. He heard one of the crew in the compartment mutter about sloppy piloting and simply ignored the words. There were three benches set up within the compartment, one of them occupied by Scherezade.
Ducking considerably, the Alseides' pilot had chosen one to the left of the blue melef, and sat the machine down with a little more deliberation than had been displayed in the boarding. The Alseides powered down with a whine, and the cockpit hatch finally hissed back open, the plates of the chest sliding within the machine.
Dilandau didn't wait for a ladder or platform, merely scaled his own way down as the machine's heat filled the large room. He paused, not seeing any of the other crew or Van waiting, face and hands flushed lightly as if having a mild sunburn, though even those marks were fading fast.
Van came forward from the side where he'd been watching, staying out of the way, and as if his movement was some kind of signal, a couple of the Crusade crewmen appeared from somewhere and began securing the Alseides with tethers to the bench.
"Damn thing's hot, use your gloves!" one of them exclaimed to the other.
"Never thought we'd be loading one of these, eh?" was the return remark.
Ignoring both, the pilot of the machine in question moved from its side, quelling the urge to watch over the procedure to be sure there was no tampering or sabotage. Turning the corner towards the doorway, he caught sight of Van. Both eyebrows rose a moment before the albino seemed to relax, flashing the other a brief and quickly hidden smile.
Van moved to join the other boy, tilting his head slightly. "You told him two melefs... so you intend to get Escaflowne as well...?"
Dilandau shot Van a curious look. "Would you rather leave it?"
Van looked down briefly. Then he looked up again, meeting Dilandau's eyes. "Yes. But I doubt it would be a good idea." He shrugged slightly. "The longer I'm away from her, the easier it is to *be* away," he said, looking away after the words were out of his mouth.
Dilandau frowned slightly, before giving Van a sly half smile. "We could always make better time without the extra weight," he offered.
Van looked back. "We're going to Freid. I have to... I have to bring her. I'm not... that much of a coward yet."
The other shrugged and turned towards the door. Dilandau saw nothing particularly wrong with a strategic retreat in his experience. Cowardice was a vice of fools. "It's not a matter of cowardice I figure. Just reluctance to deal with the bitch," he said.
Van snorted softly as he walked beside the albino. However, some of the shadow that had appeared in his eyes seemed to lift a bit.
Returning to the bridge, he gave Allen the location of the place where they had left the Ispano mecha hidden on the edge of the desert.
After giving the coordinates to Allen, Van retired from the bridge seeking a few moments of time away from the eyes of the swordsman and his crew. Gaddes pointed the king to the cabin that had been made available for the use of Van and the Zaibach soldier.
It was small, cramped, and contained two narrow bunks, as well as the larger bag Dilandau had brought, and a small one Van had acquired somewhere. The king ignored the belongings and stretched across one of the bunks, pulling the borrowed sword out of his belt. He laid it on the floor beside the bed, regarding it briefly as one would regard an ugly stepchild taking the place of a favored firstborn.
Dilandau, having paused within the doors frame merely smirked slightly at that. "It's not /that/ bad of a sword. As long as it cuts." He pushed off from his perch and closed the door behind him.
Van shrugged on shoulder. "It's not *mine*," he said simply. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly. "Thought *you'd* understand that."
The other boy returned with a full smirk, draping himself lazily on the edge of his own bunk. "Precisely why it's more fun to tease," he commented, pretending to regard his fingernails minutely.
The king snorted softly. Then he relaxed a little, pulling off his gloves and running his hands through his hair. "Glad you're enjoying yourself," he growled, but couldn't quite manage to get any real censure into it.
The albino glanced at Van and leaned back, folding his arms across his chest. "Convenient. I'd hate to make you unhappy," the tone of sarcasm was ruined by the half smile trying to gain purchase on the other's expressive face, and the humor in garnet eyes.
Van answered the slight smile with an unconscious one of his own. He felt suddenly rather vulnerable and glanced away, a tinge of color creeping into his cheeks. After a moment he sat up. "Are you... still cold?"
The other boy tilted his head. "No," he paused, a considering expression on his face, "But what's a little white lie between old friends?" he finished.
Van looked up, the color deepening slightly. He reached out, able, in the small space, to snag the other boy's wrist by leaning forward. He pulled, drawing Dilandau to him. Looking up for a moment, he lifted the hand and pressed his lips to the inside wrist, over the pulse point.
Dilandau gave absolutely no resistance, sliding easily off his own bunk to perch next to Van. He moved smoothly as Van's lips left his wrists, to capture them himself. Leaving his hand, unprotesting, in the others grip, his left snaked around easily running up along the inside of the darker boy's shirt.
The touch caused a reaction in Van which translated into a hotter kiss, his tongue twining around the other boy's drawing it into his mouth, sucking demandingly. His pulse jumped, and he could feel his heart hammering faster in his chest, holding that precious suspension of all arguments and questions that had become his refuge. He wound his free arm around the albino's shoulders, feeling the tensile strength beneath the lighter clothing.
Van felt more than heard the albino's noise of ascent. Dilandau let himself be drawn closer, deeper. The simple exploration of mouths and lightly bruised lips being a pleasurable ache that made his hands explorations pause as he got caught up in one feeling at a time.
Drawing back, more for air than any true wish, he regarded the other as he steadied his breathing. Pulling free the laces of Van's shirt he said, "Strange.... how easy it is, to get used to you." Succeeding in freeing the garment to a degree with his one free hand, he leaned forward again, tracing the line of tendons and muscles in the other boy's neck with his lips and tongue carefully.
Van murmured, a soft wordless groan, leaning back a little without giving up his hold of the other boy. "Easy?!" he half-moaned, half-laughed. He reached up and pushed questing fingers into the silver-blond waves, seeking, caressing, exploring another sensation even as he shifted uncomfortably, trying to ease the sudden constriction of his body in now too-tight trousers.
Dilandau's teeth nipped at Van's shoulder in response. The fingers of his left hand dipped down between Van's legs. A fingernail draw teasingly across the taunt fabric just hinted at what would have been a kinder and more pleasurable pressure. "Was it like this for you.... you said as much...." Dilandau murmured, his attention focusing again briefly on Van's lips. "I don't know what it's like anymore without you here."
The king swallowed suddenly, his throat tight, and his arms tightened, pressing the other boy against him. Swallowing a second time didn't enable him to speak, so he answered the only way he could think of, pressing a kiss against Dilandau's lips that was both tender and demanding, possessive and surrendering. It was a wordless pledge as well as a repudiation of a sudden all but shattering fear of loss.
Van lifted his head after a moment, still wordless and nodded. He reached down and pressed the other boy's palm against his groin, then reached out to find the matching contours of Dilandau's body with questing fingers.
A muffled moan was the immediate response as the other let his head fall slightly, hair covering his face. The idea of teasing seemed to be abandoned as he began a stroking movement against the other boy. His right hand sought to pull itself free from Van's grip in an almost unconscious movement.
His wrist was released as Van felt the pull, using his own now free hand to slide down Dilandau's back, dipping at the inward curve and then moving slowly out testing the slight double hemisphere below.
The motion caused the slightest of tensing in the other boy before he seemed to relax again. A moment later, the hand that had concentrated on the front of Van's pants, disappeared, joining its now free twin in attempting to pull Van's shirt over his shoulders determinedly.
Van slid his arms up obediently, watching the albino with deep, focused concentration. He'd felt the reaction and wondered at it, falling back into a familiar reminder of how little he truly knew or understood about the dynamics of this physical expression. Studying the pale, attractive face of his other, he turned, leaning back a little into the narrow space and back against the wall. He licked his lips unconsciously, finding the picture that presented itself to him affecting him in the most amazing ways.
The slight withdraw caused a curious pause in Dilandau, who was divesting himself of his swordbelt. Pushing aside the mild puzzlement, he dropped his own sheathed sword, it clattering to a rest next to Van's borrowed blade. With a lazily predatory smile to replace the previous expression, he shifted to his knees and moved on hand and knees up the short distance to press himself against the reclining boy, one hand slipping up to slide across the flat, defined plains of Van's chest, searching blindly for a sensitive point as he moved to reclaim Van's mouth, searching for entrance.
Heartbeat stuttering again, Van accepted the invasion, shifting a little under the other boy's touch. It came to him that it wasn't time yet... for what he wasn't quite sure, but his body ignored the mental dialog and responded to the stimulation eagerly. Restless hands found their way under the albino's shirt, moving, memorizing, incited by the smooth flesh and the trained and very capable sinews beneath it.
A soft groan was breathed past Van's lips by Dilandau. He pulled back again, eyes dark and lids heavy. He loosened the lacings on Van's trousers and slipped a hand beneath the waistband, fingers curling and stroking insistently, giving and demanding at once.
Van made a low sound, either protest or entreaty, it wasn't clear which. His hips moved, rocking him in that firm touch. His hand slid down, and he pulled at the fastening on the front of the other boy's pants, seeking as he felt his fragile control slipping away under the pleasure of his partner's touch.
Dilandau's free hand absently assisted Van's, slipping the buttons on his shirt from their homes. His concentration was fixed more on the face, expression and posture of the boy below him. Every swallow rippling down the throat to the sound of every deepening breath was just a touch more stimulation. A faint distant thought pressed, trying to find some attention in the pleasurable haze, reminding. It was almost like watching Van in battle, for the first, it went so easily and confidently, almost unaggressive to a fault, then something tipped the balance and...
Red eyes narrowed slightly at the thought, focusing on a glistening sheen within a shallow hollow of the other's neck, abandoning the other, distracting line of thought, he leaned forward even as his hand increased its pace between them, to lap at the salty liquid gathered there.
The next moan was more pronounced, and Van's hands faltered as his body moved towards an impending release. His head fell back and his fingers simply closed on anything they could find, as he began to shudder. "Dil.." he managed but could not complete the formation of syllables as he was caught in a sudden rush of exploding heat. His grip tightened convulsively, and his eyes closed as it swept over, submerging him in pleasure and taking away all resistance and doubt.
Dilandau did little more than smile a little wider, eyes going a bit darker, as he accepted the pain and bruises delivered by the other boy's grip on him, letting it mix easily with the pleasure. Prolonging his caress as long as he could, he waited until the other's shuddering stilled before removing his hand, and leaning back, languorously licked his fingers clean.
Van opened his eyes to catch a glimpse of the other boy's activity and he responded by pulling the albino against him. He pressed his lips to the other boy, tasting his own essence with a slight shock. He lifted his mouth after a hot, deep kiss, looking into the garnet eyes.
"You're... smug," he accused softly, the words robbed of harshness by the stroking of fingers through pale hair.
The other boy's lips brushed across Van's cheek, almost a nuzzling gesture. Dilandau's arms wrapped loosely around Van, enjoying the warmth coming off the other boy. "You say it like it's a bad thing," he murmured.
Van sighed, his hands moving down Dilandau's back. "I don't know what I'm doing," he said, as if confiding a secret. "You already know that, don't you..."
Dilandau's shoulders shook in a soundless chuckle. "Only.... from life long experience in not having the first damned idea myself," he replied, between small fits of humor.
Van's eyebrows lifted. "Yes?" he said softly, but it wasn't a question, he accepted the surprising information. He relaxed a little, and then smiled. He slid one hand around and down the other boy's stomach, finishing the task of loosening his clothing with more control, pushing his hand down and in to capture the warm flesh.
During the short conversation, the edge had slipped away from his arousal, making for a bit more comfort. A hiss of indrawn breath through suddenly clenched teeth signaled a reversal of full force. Pushing himself up slightly, he pushed involuntarily into his lover's hand.
Van cradled the firming flesh in a sure grip, smearing the first bead of liquid to appear with his thumb as he stroked it, finding a rhythm that matched his heartbeat. Stretching a little, he kissed Dilandau's neck over the pulse point and matched his touch to the increase of that beat.
Dilandau's arms found their way behind Van's back as Dilandau leaned into the touch of lips against the sensitive skin. His chin rested against Van's shoulder as he near collapsed into the other boy, a posture that would seem boneless despite the shudders that ran through the pale frame, or the pitched increase of breathing as he sought for air.
Van held him with one arm around, as the other hand moved on his flesh. He shifted, easing the other's weight onto his side and back as he traced a path down the pale throat with his tongue. He nuzzled the open shirt apart and found one erect bud, closing his lips around it to suckle, then trailing kisses to the other side.
The other boy released his hold on the other's back, letting cool hands slide down the corded shoulder muscles to rest, finding a new grip on Van's arms. Small noises escaped the other irregularly, like a breath caught in the throat too near the vocal cords as the boy moved his lips, seeking blindly just a little more friction, just a little faster pace.
Van murmured something inaudible, his lips tracking up to press a kiss to the hollow at the base of the albino's throat. His grip tightened and his hand moved, speeding to a more demanding frequency. He leaned up a little, drinking in Dilandau's expression, his own mouth open, eyes wide and wondering.
The boy beneath him held out against the change in pace for only a handful of seconds more. Tightly shut lids flew open, but the garnet eyes didn't seem to focus on anything particularly as he bodily jerked upwards, and his muscles locked briefly, abandoning conscious direction in the moment of culmination. Dilandau gasped, as after a moment, he fell backwards, as if seeking the breath he'd forgotten to take.
His collapse was cushioned against a willing body, held close like something precious. Van stroked the softening flesh gently, feeling the stickiness slide around his fingers. He didn't think about the albino's earlier gesture as he lifted his fingers to smear the warm thick fluid against his cheek, he wasn't thinking at all. He simply wanted to feel it.
The red eyes watching him slowly regained their focus as Dilandau's breathing and heartrate evened. Van's gesture was regarded with curiosity, but when he could speak, all he said was, "What?.... Not smug?" with an upward turn of his lips.
Van's eyelids dropped and then he looked up, his lips curving in answer. "You or me?" he said softly, his voice a little raspy.
"You're expecting me to be able to answer questions after that?" Dilandau asked, one hand searching halfheartedly for purchase behind him to support his own weight.
Van's smile curved a bit more. "If you can ask them..." he pointed out. He turned his body slightly, still cradling Dilandau against him with a possessive arm, until they both rested a bit on their sides on the narrow bunk.
"I'll think up something suitably scathing later," Dilandau promised, letting himself relax a little against Van. The heat and contact was too pleasant to be stubborn about.
Van allowed himself a slight sigh as he relaxed. He closed his eyes for a moment, his fingers brushing the other boy's chest idly. They came in contact with the pendant and stilled, as he felt a pulse of something in the back of his mind.
His eyes opened. Suddenly he was aware that they were closing the distance between himself and the one that waited. He turned his face and took a breath, seeking the oddly clean, oddly spicy scent that seemed to cling to the albino's pale hair.
Waiting until he caught the gaze of cinnamon eyes again, Dilandau wordlessly raised an eyebrow, phrasing a silent question about the sudden, and to his senses, dramatic change in Van's posture.
Van dropped his eyes, not wanting say words and bring the reality in to intrude. He fought a quick battle with himself, realizing it was already to late. He looked up and lifted one shoulder, touching the pendant again with a fingertip. "She waits," he said softly. He scowled, unhappy with himself.
It took a bare moment for Dilandau to sort out which 'she' the other meant, having at some point begun to associate the pendant with a far different female. He half pushed himself up, a look of distaste passing over his face. "Figures," he said, before smirking. "Too good to last forever anyway."
The words touched on a nerve and the king physically flinched. His muscles locked, and his eyes closed, keeping him where he was by will. He fought to find something that would master the despair and rage and reached for a mental image of a golden eye, watching him dispassionately, missing nothing in his heart, but the picture changed, gold darkening to garnet.
He opened his eyes and looked up, his muscles unlocking. "That's what I'm afraid of," he whispered simply, almost apologetically.
Dilandau's silver brows drew together at the change of mood. Busying himself slightly with the buttons of his shirt, he glanced aside at Van, "You can get rid of it at Freid?" he asked, a touch of uncertainty remaining from only barely understanding the situation.
Van looked up and suddenly something fell into place that he hadn't been getting. "I... I... is that what they want? I didn't know... perhaps?"
He didn't quite dare hope or even consider the implications yet.
Dilandau shook his head, a bit of a wry smile appearing briefly. "I'm the wrong person to ask," he said, straightening his hair with a quick running through with his fingers. "Either way, you said she was the one I was waiting for to fight," Dilandau grinned at that. In some part it struck true, quite a bit of the old emotions he'd harbored for Van had if not transformed had taken an irrational fixation on the mecha. "Fine then, we figure out how to fight. If not in Freid, somewhere else." The last was spoke with a negligent shrug.
Van listened, torn by conflicting thoughts and feelings. Am I sitting here plotting to destroy our god? he thought, flinching slightly. The trouble showed in his eyes. "How often do I have to fail?" he muttered softly. He could almost visualize the two conflicting impulses struggling in him as a memory of Vargus on one side of him, and Folken on the other.
Dilandau had paused half reaching for his sword when he'd picked up the quiet words. Not understanding them, or even beginning to understand the sudden conflict over something that seemed so resolute half an hour ago, other than it had changed when Van had realized where, and how close they were. Unable to think of any response, he simply leaned forward, and pressed his lips to Van's, not the insistent passion of earlier, just enough to register that the other boy was still there.
Van blinked and tangled his arm around Dilandau's shoulders suddenly. He relaxed, then nodded as if to answer an unspoken question. "You fight. I'll fight too. I'll find a way to make it work."
"Enough of a plan for me," Dilandau replied.
Van took the other boy's hand and pressed a kiss into the palm. He said nothing else but began turning to face the next trial with a determination deeply rooted in emotions he was not yet ready to call by name.
The naked sword on the ground rattled and the ship lost a little of its smoothness as the Crusade began to cut its speed. With a sourceless look of irritation, Dilandau slid one booted foot off the bunk and set it down firmly on top of the source of the noise, without looking down.
Van leaned up, aware of what the slowing of forward momentum signified. He looked down at the silver haired boy and reached down, using both hands to rub over his stomach, collecting the smears of his essence from the skin. When he'd wiped as much as possible into his hands, he rubbed them together and then reached down, catching his gloves and putting them on, trapping the stuff against his skin.
With a raised eyebrow, Dilandau fished around the now scattered bedding and tossed Van's shirt back to him before standing and tucking the rest of his own in neatly, fastening his belt. The sword underfoot, he slid his toe under what he judged to be the balance and kicked the blade into the air.
Van reached out, snagging the sword in mid air by the hilt. He smiled, a rather fierce expression and slid the blade into his belt, throwing the skirt over his head carelessly.
Returning the expression with a smirk of his own, Dilandau only paused a moment reaching to brush a thumb across the other's cheek, to remove the evidence from overly curious eyes.
Van submitted to the brief grooming and fastened his pants, leave his shirt out in a habit of carelessness. His eyes were clear as he felt the airship begin to stall before weighing anchor.
Dilandau opened the door and stepped into the hall, this time waiting a moment, perhaps curiously, for the direction towards the hold or bridge.
Van moved beside him and leaned forward, careless of any possible viewers. He pressed a brief kiss to the other boy's lips and said, "Tell Allen to open the hold. I'll be back." Then he turned towards the aft section, heading for the service hatch and the ladder.
Dilandau glanced back, sure that the other was still in earshot. "And Van? That full attention thing? The demand goes both ways," he said casually, before turning for the bridge.
Van didn't turn but the smile on his lips was spontaneous. "I'm counting on that," he murmured softly as he made his way through the ship to the rear and let himself out the small service exit.
THE END OF PART 38!