A Madlax fanfiction by regie27

Standard Disclaimers Apply

The apartment was sunk in deep silence except for the almost imperceptible breathing of the two people who stood before each other at that very instant. The dark haired woman stared silently at the tall man assessing him through narrow eyes. The man stared back at her immutable, his hazel eyes gleaming with an expectant almost amused flicker that seemed as the wrong answer to offer to someone who was unambiguously pointing a loaded gun right at you. But he wasn't any ordinary man, he was Carrosaur Dawn and his attitude made quite clear he had stared down at would be shooters countless time before. The woman's acute sense of observation had already provided her with that bit of information, the fact that her former employer seemed to have been put in this position before but judging by his cool, self assured attitude, she couldn't help but wonder how many times he had actually felt threatened. Her attention shifted again at the revolver he held casually at his side. She had picked the familiar sound of a weapon being cocked and loaded as they talked but she had been more intrigued by the soft tone of his voice always devoid of any inflections that would betray emotions on his part. All words had ceased between them and now all that was left was the inevitable climax and conclusion to their story.

Limelda Jorg had come to learn some things from this man during the months she had been employed by him. A good deal of them had been on the privacy of his bedroom under the complicity of satin sheets after the officials duties gave way to the off the record ones; brief snippets of his personality subtly revealed themselves to her watchful glance during her tenure as his personal bodyguard/lover. As she vigilantly observed the expressionless countenance of his face, she wondered if he had truly required a bodyguard or he had just taken advantage of the opportunity of having the leader of the Elite Guard at his sole availability. It wasn't that his life wasn't endangered, on the contrary, but she had learned rather quickly that he had the disposition and cold nerves to take care of himself rather efficiently. But he did appreciate the good things in life and having a beautiful woman who could easily be as lethal to your enemies as pleasurable to you behind closed doors seemed like an irresistible proposition to refuse. And so he had both in one take and with it, the envy, admiration, and fear of his associates and enemies alike.

The tip of the Limelda's right index finger rested firmly on the trigger of the Beretta. Her arm extended steadily outwards balancing comfortably the weight of the weapon on her hand as if it were an extension of her own body. It was a natural, intuitive pose for her just as sitting down or walking was for the average person. Her fingers curled around the pistol grip with the ease of having done the same action countless time before. One could be lead to believe that weapon and owner belonged together so much the grip had the contours of her palm engraved on its surface. But not even that extraordinary familiarity of user and object seemed to break a sweat on the man as he kept watching her as if staring down at the barrel of a pistol was just another nuisance to be taken care of. This aplomb of his was annoying her, secretly hoping of being able to visibly upset the man. Accustomed by her privileged position at the Royal Army to being part of the inner workings of the military and its secrets, she had begun to feel frustrated and exasperated by how he stubbornly kept any resemblance of emotion away from her as well as the purpose driving his actions, no matter how insistently she'd tried to prod him. It was useless. The man she knew as Carrosaur Dawn was an enigma and he had made sure his defenses were inexpugnable. That very air of mystery of his was the weapon he used best to keep friend and foe alike on edge. The Elite Guard officer had wished to know more of her employer yet she was just a tool and as such, she wasn't entitled the right to know, something that he made sure she understood. But she finally found out and her world had come crashing down the instant the disk she confiscated from Madlax displayed everything he had kept hidden from her and from the rest of the world.

"Enfant agent." The sniper had uttered the words feeling as if each syllable was a razor sharp blade inflicting deep wounds upon her pride. The truth that simple fact embodied had struck her more powerfully that any physical blow or injury had. Simply put, it had meant she had been used by the entity that had been conspiring to destroy her country. The mere thought of how easily she had been played out made her taste bitterness rising up her throat from the pit of her stomach, making her feel physically ill again. She had experienced that same sickening sensation the instant she learned the truth after reading each and every incriminating morsel of data that betrayed the true identity of the man she had risked her own life to protect, of the man she had enthusiastically accepted as her lover and willfully went to bed with. It infuriated her yet even with the truth unveiled, she couldn't help nor deny the puzzling effect his presence still had on her. Even with the cold efficiency of the trained hunter upon her as her finger pressured with careful measure the trigger, another sensation menaced to weaken her determination.

"I wanted to touch your skin a little while longer" Carrosaur had affirmed and Limelda felt he meant it despite all the deceit. Even as her wounded pride recoiled seething within her, insidious warmth ran down her spine making her shiver ever so discretely. Their eyes locked for an instant and she remembered the first time she stood transfixed by the same enticing glance that stared at her admiringly as he processed unabashed to unbutton her uniform shirt with quick, measured movements. There had not been time nor effort wasted on his part. With the same self assured efficiency he had approached her to accept his proposition, he had later lead her to his apartment and took possession of her. But while he was all aloof coolness in his business matters, he had been everything but aloof and cold when he was intimate with her. She had never deceived herself by believing that their intimacy together was anything more than just another clause of the terms of her employment. And yet there had been something more, a connection that only in the heat of passion the two of them allowed themselves to acknowledge; a sense of similar shared unfulfilled needs that went beyond mere lust that both had longed to satiate. In the rousing ecstasy of their mutual embrace, they created and lived the illusion that at last, they had succeeded in doing so.

"Me too Carrosaur" she replied. Even with her pride battered, she could never deny the fact that she had not been forced or coerced to be with him. She observed his elegant hands and ruefully conceded to herself she was already missing their warmth upon her skin, the sensation of the firmness of his chest against hers and the intoxicating quality of his kisses. Limelda had wanted and needed him as much he had wanted and needed her and she realized it had been the only moments he had allowed himself to become vulnerable, to put away his iron-fist control to yield to the imperious need that made him long for her touch and to allow her to come closer than anyone before. His acknowledgment came as no surprise to her because even though she now faced him as an enemy, she understood that in another very different battlefield they had become allies. But the alliance was broken for good and now Limelda was determined to focus all her attention on the one person who embodied the truth in a world torn by deception and betrayal. The one who could truly be capable of fulfill her needs because she was all Limelda needed now.

"Madlax" the word reverberated inside her mind and a smile curved on her lips.

And now, as the now deserter of the Royal Army Lieutenant Jorg roamed the streets of the capital with a new purpose in sight, her mind wandered back to that apartment, and to the man who stood silently watching her walk away. Two bullets embedded on the wall served as silent witness of the hesitance that made her pulse falter and her aim deviate from her target. It was the last act of kindness for the man she'd cherished as a lover but she could now only see as her abhorred enemy, the one who had dared to thread over her trust and pride. The one who'd betrayed her.

"Next time we meet, I will not miss, Carrosaur Dawn."

- Fin -