Title: Well-Balanced

Author: Dendera

Rating: G

Summary: Merle helps Van to shed the burden of his crown, if only for an afternoon.

Disclaimer: Escaflowne does not belong to me, but because I am a huge dork, I like to pretend otherwise. At any rate, only my words are mine. So please, do not copy or reproduce this story in any way without my permission.

Dedication: For Ty, who never fails to induce a smile.

The plush room was a whirl of frantic activity. Servants flew back and forth, from corner to corner, grasping at pins, rustling yards of fabric, and murmuring their collective opinions. Three tailors, their brows creased in thoughtful contemplation, stood off to the side, arguing over the color and schematic of their mutual creation. And Van Fanel, in the very midst of it all, could not help but feel slightly overwhelmed. Even as king.

"Your Highness, what say you about the train of your robe?" Questions, regarding issues he knew nothing about, pelted him from all directions. "Is it too long?"

"My Lord, forgive my criticism, but I feel this color is all wrong for you. Fanelia deserves something more…robust!" Robust? The seventeen-year-old, dizzy with heat from under heaps of velvet and silk, wondered what the term robust had to do with clothing at all.

"Really, Marcus, anything more 'robust' and you'll have him looking like a gypsy's caravan," a droning voice spoke up, reminding Van of an insect's insistent buzzing. "I think this shade of purple emulates the true royalty of our fair kingdom."

And with that, his three fashion consultants returned to their prattling debate, bickering amongst themselves. Van shifted uncomfortably from beneath the piles of clothing, pins jabbing at him as punishment for daring to move. It was times like these, that the Fanelian king missed his mentor, Balgus, the most. Ever a stalwart and sensible teacher, Balgus argued against all that was frivolous and equally unnecessary. Which meant, that such finery as this, along with its tedious fittings, would have been immediately disposed of. Instead, as a child, Van had been coached in the etiquette of subjects like swordplay, self-defense, patriotism, and common sense. In this native realm of chivalric grace and courtly decorum he felt entirely lost.

However, the familiar scamper of little feet in the hallway led him to believe that salvation was close at hand. "Ugh, that's horrible!" Merle announced the arrival of her presence with her own mark of finesse. "You can't put my Van-sama in that! It's the ugliest thing I've ever seen!"

Her delightfully tactless critique brought a smile to what had currently been an expression of sheer boredom. As one of the unwavering constants in his life, Merle had never failed to keep him on his toes. Or stop amazing him from day to day.

"Take that off at once!" She continued the disgruntled tirade with a stamp of her foot, wailing against the apparent travesty of it all. "And then burn it!"

Unfortunately, despite the fact that she was their sovereign's oldest and dearest friend, the catgirl's opinion did not carry much weight within the royal court. His advisors, united for once in their general dislike of the annoyance that was Merle, eyed him, questioningly.

Van shrugged in nonchalance, unable to suppress the lop-sided grin that had unceremoniously spilt across his lips. "You heard the lady," he instructed them coolly, secretly enjoying their flustered reactions.

The obese, pompous one was the first to recover. "Yes, perhaps you are right, my Lord," Elius acknowledged rather stiffly, fixing Merle with a critically appraising stare. "Certainly another hue would suit you better."

"Indeed, Majesty," Marcus piped up, clearly pleased that the final decision would not include purple after all. "We've bought many samples with us, so another fitting would be no trouble."

The tailors began to advance upon him once more, much like predators cornering their hapless prey. "Kindly stay right where you are, Highness, and we'll have this taken care of in no time."

There were many perks that came along with his crown, and though he was loathe to take advantage of most of them, today Van simply couldn't help himself. In direct contradiction, he leaped nimbly down from the pedestal and shook off his many flowing layers. "Sorry," he issued a brief apology, "but it's going to have to wait. Another time, perhaps."

The very notion seemed to send the three artists in a sort of bewildered tailspin. "Another…time?" Torrence repeated blankly, aghast at the possibility of procrastination. "But…my Lord, the dedication ceremony is in four days! We must have ample time to complete—"

"Four days seems a decent enough amount of time," Van told them good-naturedly. "Surely with your combined talent, we'll be able to come up with something by then." He threw a wink to Merle, who was fidgeting with impatience. "And now, if you'll excuse me, I have a lunch date."

"But sire…" the sea of objections seemed endless, and Van was growing swiftly more irritated at having to explain himself.

"Gentleman," the young ruler addressed them with a stern gaze, "We will finish this another time. After tomorrow's sword practice."

A brief moment of sullen silence hung thick in the air before the three nodded their consent, murmuring feeble apologies. And again Merle was the subject of much controversy and looked upon accordingly. Oblivious to their disapproval, she only beamed all the brighter, overjoyed at the concept of having Van all to herself. He led her cheerfully out of the chamber, pausing at the threshold to curtly thank all in attendance for their help.

As the heavy oak door closed behind them, the other servants exchanged glances of mixed amusement. Poor Van-sama, to have to put up with this ordeal when it was clear he cared not for such frippery. All of Fanelia knew their newest leader was prone to more of a conservative lifestyle, interested in that of the needs of his people rather than the wealth of his treasury. The admonished tailors, on the other hand, were of a somewhat different attitude.

"Rather spoiled, if you ask me." Elius muttered under his breath, red-faced in his self-righteousness. "Too much child; too little king."

Once free from the room's constraints, Van released a long breath, allowing the crisp breeze from a nearby window to relieve the lingering tension

Merle clutched his arm gaily, the warmth of their friendship bringing him back to good spirits. "Rescued you, didn't I?" She bragged in that singsong way of hers he found so endearing.

"You sure did. I know that the completion of the new temple means a lot to everyone, but who knew it would lead to such a fuss?" Van admitted with a grateful chuckle, brown eyes regarding her fondly. " I suppose that puts me in your debt now, doesn't it?"

His childhood companion paused to consider the statement, her small nose twitching reflexively. "Like that's anything new," she teased back at last, an impish grin darting across her feline countenance. "What would you do without me, Van-sama?"

He smiled at the confidence behind her inquiry, aware of just how true her insinuation was. With all he had been through over the years, losing Folken to Zaibach, the destruction of his homeland, weary months of gruesome battle, the painful loss of Hitomi… Van felt a sharp pang at the very thought of her, followed almost immediately by the dull ache to which he was so accustomed to by now. And through it all, Merle had been a devoted and most welcome presence at his side.

"I honestly don't know," he replied earnestly, dark orbs glinting mischievously. "Probably get to sleep in later than you usually let me." He released an over-dramatic moan at the anticipated elbow to his ribs, doubling over in mock agony.

Though still just as tender and motherly towards him as she always had been, Merle spared him no pity this time. "You should be thanking me," she informed him matter-a-factly. "Your whiny advisors would pitch a fit if you were late to one of your morning debriefings. Besides, Van-sama," blind adoration radiated from her hazel depths, "I let you sleep long enough as it is."

"I know, I know…" He relented pleasantly, crooking an affectionate arm around her shoulders. "What do you say, should we grab some lunch? I'm starving to death."

"You're always starving to death," she told him pointedly, with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. "I think I really ought to speak to the kitchen help, because they must not be feeding you enough. You're still a growing king!"

A positively delicious idea wrapped itself around the less mature part of Van's brain. It had been so long since he had indulged in such boyish pursuits. "Maybe more meat in my diet?" He queried innocently, a wolfish leer twisting his handsome visage.

"Of course," Merle agreed knowingly, oblivious to where the topic was leading her. "You need your strength."

Van licked his lips in an overtly famished manner, reverting back juvenile tactics. "Bigger portions too, don't you think?"

"Just so long as you don't forget your vegetables too," she dictated, watching his transformation with mounting suspicion. "Remember, it has to be a well-balanced diet."

He approached her steadily, stalking closer. "Oh, it'll be well-balanced, all right. Vegetables, minerals, a little bit of catgirl…"

"VAN-SAMA!" Merle exclaimed shrilly, giggling hysterically as his fingers launched their tickling assault. Still snorting with laughter, she attempted to swat his hands away. "Stop being silly! You need to hurry up and eat before your archery lessons!"

"That's just what I was trying to do. Really Merle." He shook his head, as if having been unjustly scolded. "Now, where was I?"

Quick as an antelope, she had scampered out of his reach and halfway down the length of the hall. "You are going to embarrass yourself!" She protested breathlessly between titters. "This isn't how royalty behaves!"

"Better run, Merle!" He warned with a ferocious smile, in response to her chiding. "I am a growing king, after all." And forgetting for the moment that he was a young ruler, with the fate of an entire nation stacked upon his shoulders, he took off after her, and gave chase to the childhood he had never had the opportunity to relish.

Fin