Ishbal Dreams ch22

[okami_hu]

Disclaimer: World & characters are the property of Arakawa Hiromu & Square-ENIX. However, the fic itself belongs to us (kira_k & okami_hu). We have to stress that – sadly – we’re not making any money from this.
Rating: PG
Pairings: very slight Maes/Dolchet
Note: Write more about the chimeras, people. They deserve it.


Ishbal Dreams – Battles


Greed just lies there for a while, lost in his memories. After his body gets its much needed release, he stands and goes for the bathroom to wash. When he's clean and in fresh clothes, he grabs the half-full wine bottle, and decides to drink it. He's a little morose - Dolchet's refusal was unexpected and it made him doubt himself. And he wasn't drunk in a long time - as long as he didn't get laid.


Dolchet never stops until he reaches the palace. His first priority is a cold bath and the second, some thought-diverting activity. Like a spar. With some worthy opponent. So he changes into some fresh clothes and rushes out to the Gardens.

Martel is in the training area. As one of the prince's concubines, she has special rights, and one of them is the right to exercise here. She's repeating age-old movements with a short sword, wanting to ingrain the movements into her body. When she spots Dolchet, she stops, and waits for him to come nearer.

Dolchet is quite happy with Martel's presence here. She won't go easy on him and that's what he wants.

Since Dolchet became the Prince's lover, some three years ago, he and Martel are fighting constantly. It's that childish "He loves me more than you"-thing though. Martel is a witty girl and her tongue cuts like a knife.

"Greetings. What brings you here, warlord Dolchet?" Martel asks from the newly arrived man, with a slight smile. She doesn't mind the other's presence - it would be a welcome distraction if Dolchet choose to remain and train with her a little.

"Greetings Lady Martel." Dolchet is too confused and unsettled to be nice to her although she would deserve it. "The Lord Prince just gave me a kiss. How long had it been that you were called into his chambers? Two weeks? Three?" He throws his sword down; he doesn't trust himself to use it.

Martel is speechless for a moment - but she accepts Dolchet's challenge. She lets go of her own sword’s hilt, and carefully moves closer to the warlord, her whole body is prepared for a fight. "Maybe it was longer, but it was for a full night, warlord Dolchet. And the Lord Prince moaned my name every time."

Dolchet twitches a little. That was a very good reply. "Are you sure?" He asks back lamely. "Your ears can cheat you, when you're confused by pleasure. The Lady Gracia has better chances now. She's carrying the Prince's child."

Martel grits her teeth - Gracia's pregnancy and the upcoming wedding is a sore point to her, but she doesn't let it break her concentration. She attacks with a punch, but Dolchet doges it easily, and she pulls back. "She may be, but that means she won't go anywhere near to the Lord Prince's chambers, because of the fear of hurting the heir. And that gives me better chances at gaining the Lord Prince's attention."

Dolchet is thankful to Ishbala and all the angels and demons and every other entity. He launches at Martel but as he is a dog, she's a snake and gets away easily. "I doubt about it. You're a fragile lady and I'm a fighter, who's right in front of his eyes all the time. It could happen that he'll take me in the conference room..." The idea is appealing though and he grins. He knows this will only fuel her anger more but... he deserves some beating.

"I don't think so...!" Martel says before striking again, this time reaching her goal, and she's satisfied as his grin melts away under the pain in his stomach.

Oooouch! That hurt. The pain is welcomed though and Dolchet tries to sweep out the blonde's legs. "And why not? It's either me or the First Warlord Scar."

"The Lord Prince won't stop whatever he does, just to give you a happy!" Martel says. "You're not that important." She knows this last one was cruel, but Dolchet played with her strings just right to make her really angry. She circles carefully around the warlord, waiting for an opportunity to strike again.

Dolchet gasps at the last one; that hurt indeed! He knows that he isn't as handsome as Scar or soft and sweet like the ladies... Sometimes he even wonders why the Prince made him to his lover. The small warlord sneers and launches at the girl, leaving himself open for any attacks - a little on purpose.

Martel attacks his body, her kicks and punches fall fast, but she is nowhere near as strong as Dolchet, and she tries to dance away from his counterattacks. She knows she doesn't need too much from Dolchet's punches to give it up, bruised and aching.

However, the small man only counters half-heartedly. He doesn't want to seriously hurt Martel... She has nothing to do with his stupid thoughts and deeds. "You think you're that important?"

"I don't need to be important, I just need to be there, when the Lord Prince wants me." Martel answers and steps back a little. She's panting heavily, and she caught up on the fact, that Dolchet lets her. "Why are you doing this?"

"I have my reasons." Absolutely no, he won't admit, that he betrayed the Lord Prince! Dolchet grits his teeth and blinks back the tears. "Come on, are you afraid of me? Fight or go back to work on Lady Gracia's wedding gown!"

It hurts, and it makes Martel leash out at the warlord. She kicks into Dolchet twice with real anger, before getting back her self-control. She backs away again. "Don't you dare... Don't dare to use me like this!" Dolchet's comments hurt her, and she doesn't like, the warlord lets her to hit him. "Or fight back, you coward!"

The kicks hurt. There would be blue spots on his body tomorrow but Dolchet doesn't care. He throws some serious punches towards Martel; he doesn't want her to leave.

Martel snorts at the attempts, and dances away just after she leaves another punch at Dolchet's side. "You've to do better than this, warlord!" She's seriously pissed now, and if Dolchet wants to fight, it's alright; she's willing to give it to him.

Dolchet falls on his knees from the last attack. It was hard, the anger caused Martel to forget about her strength. Because she's strong. The warlord tries to stand up quickly but it's not that easy. His breath is coming in gasps because of the pain and weariness. "You haven't seen anything yet, milady!"

Martel waits for him to stand up, and measures her chances. Dolchet didn't hurt her seriously, but she's tired - she was here for more than an hour before the warlord came and started his little insults. It would be still an even fight, if Dolchet holds himself back just like always - but she's almost sure, she has managed to push him a little too much.

Dolchet manages to stand up and he eyes Martel panting. He feels really miserable and only partly because of the pain. “Just beat me senseless” he murmurs as he crouches down for another attack.

"Why should I?" Martel asks again.

Oops, she heard it. "Because if you won't, I will!" And Dolchet jumps, trying to sweep away the blonde.

Martel manages to jump back and bend her body, so Dolchet doesn't reach her, but she needs time to catch her balance again, so instead of staying in one place she rolls away from Dolchet. "Only if I let you, warlord." She's on her feet again.

Dolchet feels tired. He just attempts to deliver a successful blow; his mind is blank and his heart feels empty. Maybe this wasn't a good idea at all. Somewhere deep inside, he feels for Martel.

Martel tries to dodge the punch, but she is too slow; she falls to the ground, crying out. The pain is almost too much, but she tries to stand up again, not willing to give up.

Dolchet backs off at the cry, he didn't want to hit that hard. He reaches out for the young blonde woman hesitantly. "Martel..."

"I'm well..." She manages to answer, as she pulls her legs beneath herself. She slowly stands up and waits warily for the warlord to attack again.

But Dolchet doesn't feel like it. He's tired and he's in pain in the outside as well as in the inside. He lowers his head and turns away. "Sorry..." he mumbles and with slow steps, he walks to his discarded sword to pick it up.

"Wait!" Martel walks toward the warlord. "I understand you don't want to explain me why, but-" She doesn't know what to say. "You will be alright, right?"

Dolchet lets out a strange sound, which is somewhere between a laugh and a sob. "Yes, I will. I hope. I don't know." He grips his sword tightly, his knuckles turn white. "Thank you for the spar and... I'm sorry for making you angry."

Martel bits into her lower lip - she doesn't wish to let it go, but it was clear from the first moment, Dolchet doesn't want to talk. So she makes up her mind and, stepping closer, gives the warlord a quick hug.

It feels nice... So reassuring and warm... Dolchet's shoulders sag and his body relaxes. "T-thank you." He has no idea, why did Martel do that - they're kind of arch-enemies - but it provided the small warlord with some much-needed comfort. He feels the tears returning into his eyes and he tries to rub them away.

Martel doesn't comment on the unnatural shine of the warlord's eyes, just smiles a little, before stepping back. "Take care of yourself, warlord Dolchet." She's tired and her muscles are aching as well as those spots, where Dolchet's fists connected to her skin - a hot bath is in order.

Dolchet nods again with a small smile then proceeds to make his way back to his room. He needs a hot bath, too and maybe some strong drink. And later... maybe he could ask the Lord Prince to... hold him? Just a little while? The small warlord really needs that now.


Dolchet's heart throbs in this chest wildly as he approaches the prince’s chambers. He's ridden by guilt and fear, too; he knows the lord prince is worried because of the recently arrived Amestrisians. The warlord really doesn't want to bring him down or anger him but he has to speak with the ruler.

Prince Maes is sprawling on his bed, staring at the ceiling. His thoughts are circling around the peace committee, Gran and Roy, and the cheeky commoner, Greed. He words a few, similar truces and peace-agreements in his mind and he tries to ignore the dull ache in his chest. He's about to lose Roy and this knowledge isn't pleasing. There is a knocking on his door and he snaps out of his daydreaming. He sits up and absentmindedly straightens his robe with his left as he calls out.

After he receives the call, the small-framed man steps in and bows deeply.

"My prince... I'm sorry for the disturbance but I have to have a word with you." He shifts on his feet nervously and adds: "It's personal..."

"Do come in, Dolchet," Maes says with a soft smile and beckons the warlord closer. "Don't fear, and speak freely. What bothers you?"

Dolchet inches closer and finally sits down next to the bed to gaze up on his ruler and master.

"It's been many years I was your warlord my Prince and some since you accepted me into your royal confidence. You know that I've been always true and loyal to you, no thoughts of treachery ever crossed my mind. I loved you with all my heart, as soldier, lover and I daresay friend."

Maes' eyes widen a little. "Yes, Dolchet, that's true. You have my trust and friendship, and you have it since years," he agrees and reaches out to touch the other man's wrist. Something must have happened that made Dolchet doubt himself - the prince cannot think up anything that would make the warlord betray him. He trusts this man with his life and soul and if Dolchet wanted to harm him, there were countless occasions. "What brought this up, my friend?"

Dolchet wounds his fingers around the ruler's hand and bows his head. "My lord, I'm not worthy of your love... as I betrayed you. Not you as the ruler, I'd sooner stab my own sword into my chest than let myself as much as consider that but... I betrayed the love I feel for you, I let my blood call out to another." He doesn't quite dare to look up.

"You slept with someone else?" Maes asks, trying to clarify what happened. He isn't sure why that is a problem, as he never demanded the monogamy from his lovers. The royal consorts are free to bestow their affection to anyone if they are careful to not bear anyone else's child but the prince's. "Or are you in love with someone?"

Dolchet whines like a dog and presses his forehead against Maes's knees. "I don't know... I hope not. But that commoner, that Greed... There's something in the way he moves, what capture my eyes and I stare at him even if I don't want to. I feel hot when he leans closer and... when he kissed me, his mouth tasted as sweet as yours, my prince." He manages to look up. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't feel this way. I'm in love with you."

"You cannot choose who you love, Dolchet," Maes says softly and caresses the warlord's face. He knows this is true; if it wasn't, he wouldn't have fallen in love with Roy. He smiles and pulls up the smaller man to embrace him lightly. "Our hearts and souls decide for them without our leave. Don't be sorry, Dolchet, as Greed won't disappear overnight."

"But... Lord Prince, my heart belongs to you! It feels wrong to... be interested in that other man...!" Dolchet normally isn't this confused but his almost blind loyalty toward Ishbal's sovereign messes up his thoughts. The small-framed warlord is convinced that he belongs to Maes in body and soul, he's happy to serve him even if the Lord Prince has plenty of others to waste his love on. Dolchet knows he must be the least favorite among the Prince's lovers but maybe because of that, he tries to give twice as more back.

"Your heart isn't mine, Dolchet. Your loyalty, your sword, even your life; those are mine. Your soul belongs to our Goddess but your heart is your own," Maes protests softly. He waves his fingers into the warlord's short hair and kisses the other man gently to show, he isn't refusing him. "If you want Greed, then take him."

"First time since long years," Dolchet whispers, "I don't know, what I want. Something tells me I should remain your faithful lover, who has nobody else in his heart. I know that you have more handsome, more skilled lovers and that's why I gave myself to you fully."

"You're handsome, Dolchet, and skilled," Maes says surprised. "Whatever gave you the impression that you're neither? My friend, you know me, my eyes linger on everyone, but my attention isn't long-lived usually. You're more than a simple lover, Dolchet, you're a trusted friend and those I need more."

"So..." Dolchet tries to reason more with himself than with the ruler, "You're saying I shouldn't feel guilty when I develop feelings for another? I mean, until I remain loyal to you, performing all my duties to the best of my abilities."

"Yes, that's what I say," the prince nods relieved. He caresses Dolchet's face and smiles at him. "Did you see me getting angry when the first warlord announced his marriage to the lovely Rose? No, you didn't, because I was happy for them and Scar never forgot whom he serves. All I want from you, along the line of your feelings, is to be careful; I don't want you heartbroken. "

The small warlord melts against his master's side like a good dog when gentle hands scratch his ears. The Prince... loves him more that he ever imagined it! "I'll try to be that, I promise," he nods and smiles. He feels better. "I'm sorry for coming in and troubling you, my Prince. You're such a good man, aside of being a good leader."

"Thank you, Dolchet, and don't be sorry," Maes embraces the other man again. "If you ever need my insight in any matter again, don't hesitate. I'll be there to listen and offer my advice." He kisses the warlord lightly and smiles at him.

The warlord kisses back and this time, it feels a little different but good nonetheless. He rises and bows again. "Ishbala bless you, my Lord Prince. I'm going now, you surely have a lot to think through about the upcoming negotiations. And when you need me, just call, I'll be there." Dolchet waits for another moment or two to make sure he's not needed anymore.

"Go with peace, Dolchet," the prince says. "And see if your heart truly lies with Greed."

The small-framed man nods with a smile and leaves. It won't be that easy but at least, he knows he's free to find out what the next step could be.



Greed opens the door, surprised at the knocking. He just came home today, he doesn't know who could be the visitor.

The soldier nicks his head. "Good evening. I came to you to deliver an invitation to the Palace from the First Warlord Scar. He'd be glad if you could join him tonight."

From Scar? Greed doesn't know what to answer, so he just nods. He can go as he is now, and he doesn't know if the first warlord wishes to hear about Amestris's prisons, or it is a simple social call. But wine helps both, so he grabs a new bottle of the same wine he drank in the afternoon, and steps next to the guard. "I'm ready." He indicates.

The guard just nods and begins to lead Greed back to the palace - it's his third trip today, actually.


Scar is full of anticipating - he hasn’t seen his precious childhood friend about... how long? Some ten years? Since he enlisted. He missed the quick-witted, loud-mouth kid for so long! The first warlord can't even enjoy the hot bath - he climbs out of the water quickly, dries his chocolate skin and pulls on some loose, comfortable clothes. Then, he starts to pace. He barely notices the arriving servant, who brings the dinner in, for two.