Count Rugen Imagines (EDITED)

Random Part Two

Her sharp penetrating eyes miss nothing—she's renowned for it, actually. She could track a falcon on a cloudy day, according to most—including herself, of course. So how she had missed Rugen's subtle change in demeanor while they were alone together remains quite a mystery to Her, especially the hard on she felt against her side.

She's not entirely sure of when her own attraction to the bewildering and bewitching Count began. She can remember being rather disgusted by the sixth finger at first—believing it to be a sure sign of witchcraft. Only after considerable time—and, quite possibly, a few visits to the Castle Counselor—did she begin to see the man behind the extra finger. Well, not so much "behind" as "attached to," actually. But see she did. And before she knew it, Angel's grudging respect for the man's torture methods had changed into something of an obsession with the girl herself.

When she had advised with the Start A War With Guilder Plan to Prince Humperdinck—as she had so...creatively, not to mention stealthily named it—there had been one aspect she hadn't shared with the Count. Angel had hoped to make Rugen jealous. She could have gone with the Prince —someone about whose murder people might have been genuinely upset by. But Rugen wouldn't get jealous over someone nice—the very idea of it was preposterous! No, Angel knew she had to play upon the Count's vanities and insecurities. After all, Rugen considered himself a fairly attractive man and she absolutely agreed sometimes the slightest moves it gestures made her wet with need, excepting his right hand. So  She had found the prettiest boy she could—the prettiest boy with the daintiest, most normal right hand in all of Florin.

But did the oblivious man even care that his partner in crime had found such a normal right hand to marry/kill? Of course not! He was far too busy messing with that damn Machine! Probably wouldn't care if the Apocalypse itself were upon them, Angel mused, as long as she could help with the torture a bit before he was killed....Stupid Count.

And before Angel knew it, the Start A War With Guilder Plan had been absolutely ruined. All because some old lover of this boy didn't want to see her dead Stupid pirate.

Finally, though, it seemed the girl had a chance. The boy was dead, her lover soon would be, and Tyrone cared! Yes, at the moment, he was being a bit difficult—spouting nonsense about themselves as the villains—but he wouldn't be himself if she had just given in. No, she had to put up some show of resistance first, to make sure that Angels feelings were true. She'd see they were soon enough. And then they would have their own Happily Ever After to live. Because really, what kind of hero dresses in black and wears a mask?

It takes them awhile before finding her tied to a chair in her own bedroom. She had waited a good five minutes after everyone had leapt out the window before starting to yell for help. What on earth is the Prince employing these so-called guards for if they can't guard a huge building against just three men? Honestly, some people are just hopeless...

Angel shakes her head in annoyed amusement as she strides through the hallways, rubbing her wrists where the rope had been pulled tight. She had been worried for a moment there that the farm boy would actually carry out his ominous sentence of "to the pain." But then, the pretty ones never are very good at going through with their more ugly threats. They prefer to make a man sweat and fear for his feet than to actually put the feet in any danger—far too messy, you know.

She's been wandering for ten minutes now, calling for Rugen, and she's beginning to find the whole situation rather bothersome. "Come now, Tyrone!" She yells, stepping over the bodies of several guards. "They're gone, you fool! It really has been an awful day, don't go making it worse with your ill-timed cowardice!" Still, no answer.

She sighs with no small amount of impatience, starting down a short, windy staircase leading into a small room. Suddenly, she catches a whiff of a very familiar scent—the tangy, pungent smell of blood. She sees a trail of the sticky red substance now cool on the hard stone floor, and she's almost afraid to look where it leads.

She takes a shaky breath—meant to steady Herself , but not doing much good—as she steps completely into the room. She knows what she's about to find, but this unwanted knowledge can't stifle the horrified gasp that escapes from Angel's mouth. Rugen's corpse. His usually pristine clothes are bloodied, and his chest is rising and falling far too raggedly to be healthy. Except...corpses aren't supposed to breathe, right?

Angel rushes over to her fallen friend, "Tyrone, I—you're not dead! What happened? It was that Spaniard, wasn't it? Well, we'll get him back, love, don't you worry. We'll start a war with Spain, though we really should finish the one with Guilder first, especially since it hasn't begun ye—"

"Stop talking, for once in your life," Rugen gasps out, "Can't you see that I'm dying?"

Angel blinks, "No you're not."

"Yes, I am," the Count sighs, "I've been stabbed in the stomach, dear—and believe me, intestinal wounds tend to be fatal. Now listen, because I haven't much time left." He pauses for a long moment, breathing through gritted teeth as he tries to control the pain. "You have been the one person in my life who has ever wanted me to live, and you are the one person I have lived for. I won't waste time on anymore silly sentiments—just know that I care deeply for you and always have. Whether it's love or not, I can't judge, but if it's not, this is they closest I'll ever come to it."

"No, you—you can't die...you're not supposed to. I shall be very put out if you do, you know."

Rugen attempts to smile at the weak joke, but can't manage more than a slight baring of his teeth. "I know you will be. But it's like I told you before—this is exactly what's supposed to happen."

"It's not!" Angel cries out, "There's supposed to be a Happily Ever After for us! Death isn't Happily Ever After! I wanted you to be mine, my very first night. I wanted to have your children who would grow to be like their handsome father, so its not no."

"It is," Rugen explains patiently, "because the heroes have been reunited, and some justice has been served unto the wicked."

"Justice!" Angel sputters with tears in her eyes, "There is no justice in your death, Tyrone! And pirates aren't heroes! They rape, pillage, and kill! They're notorious for it! How does that make us the wicked? He is the one who is wicked!" She breaks off from his tirade as Rugen begins to cough up blood. "It isn't fair," she whispers.

"Not to us, anyway," Rugen says, baring his teeth again in a pseudo-smile. Angel watches helplessly on as his Tyrone's breath gets shallower and he coughs up more blood. "Go on now," he manages to gasp out, "I don't want you to watch me die."

"I won't leave you, love, I can't." She lifts Rugen's head into her lap and smoothes his hair down gently, weeping silently. She gives him one last kiss tasting the blood on his lips staining her pink ones.

The Count's last breath leaves him soon, but still Angel sits there. Humperdinck finds her there the next morning.

"Angel?" he says approaching his two friends with caution.

Angel smiles—an empty haunted smile—her hands are smeared with Rugen's congealed blood. The farmboy should've carried out his threat. It was better than holding her beloved dead in her arms. "I want all men to get ready, this war will take place whether you like it or not my prince." She says through gritted teeth looking up at him. He stands there mouth open until he responds. "It will be done." And he walks out. She let's out a ear piercing scream, this wasnt an ordinary scream it was a scream of hurt and pain, she screamed for her loved one was gone and never coming back.