A/N: I don't own Escaflowne or Dilandau, yadda yadda yadda. . .
This short fic is based upon the movie version of Escaflowne, and takes place after the movie is over. It is also a bit of a spin-off of my other Esca fic, "As It Always Will Be", a Dilandau romance fic. It is not neccessary to have read "AIAWB" to read this, but it might help ;-) .
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Even on distanced planes of reality are lovers destined to meet. . .
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"We'll stop here."
Dilandau reigned his horse in and swung his leg over the side, falling to the ground on his feet. His three remaining Dragon Slayers followed suit as their leader knealt by the pool of water and took a small drink.
Dilandau shook his hand, freeing the drops of water from it as he sat back in the grass. So Folken was dead. . . Or at least it was reasonable to believe that Folken was dead. He smiled, remembering the numerous ways in which Folken used to torture and humiliate him. His left hand still ached from where his finger had been last dislocated. Although, Folken HAD given him the power of dragon armor. . .
What did it matter? Dilandau was neither glad nor angry that his leader had been annihalated; just happy he didn't have to go through any of that psychokinetic stuff again. He was his own leader now- and when the next war came, it would be Dilandau at the forefront.
The way it should be.
*
Cherandle Zarain loved riding at night.
Her horse, Pheonix, seemed to love it too. Every night she would hear him whinnying from the stables, and when she came for him he would buck his flaming red mane towards his back, beckoning her on. Usually obeying, she would fetch the saddle her father had given her and go out for a small ride.
Her mother had nearly forbade Cherandle to ride that night- after the descent of the god Escaflowne, who knows what could be coming up? But rumors were spreading quickly through the villages that the worst of it was over, and the Wind Goddess had acsended back into the sky.
Besides, Mom and Dad were already asleep. What Mother didn't know wouldn't hurt her.
Cherandle looked up at the sky- yes, the Mystic Moon was gone. So the Wind Goddess had ascended after all.
So, the worst was over.
Cherandle's attention was caught by something off the path she was riding. She looked- someone was running in the field, sword drawn- but there was no opponent.
"Strange people come out at night," Arvin Zarain had alwayd said. . .
*
Dilandau didn't remember much from his 'former life' with the dog people of the forest. He had been snatched early out of it be Folken to be trained as a soldier.
However, even after he had been taken, he had been followed. By one who wouldn't give up on him. By the one who had been his caretaker in the forest village.
The Black Dragon soldier Jajuka.
Dilandau knew full well that Jajuka had nearly sacrificed all he believed in by becoming a Black Dragon, but it wouldn't have mattered; because the entire village was captured not long after Dilandau was taken. Secretly, behind the back of the ever-watchful Folken, Jajuka had taught Dilandau to think like a forest being, move like one, use their instinct.
The one thing he couldn't get past was Dilandau's apparent need to constantly disobey Folken's orders.
Did Jajuka really care about that? No. He had always hated Folken more than he could say. But he had always been more protective of his own neck than Dilandau had been of his.
Where was Jajuka now? Dilandau didn't know. But no doubt the information would come along sooner or later.
Looking around, he found he had travelled far from the site where he and his Slayers had bedded down; through he could still spot their horses when he looked back in the direction from which he had come. Ahead of him was a small village.
Everywhere else was a wide, sweeping feild.
A small smile crept across Dilandau's lips. He had rather enjoyed what little bouts with 'Lord Van' he had been able to participate in. The young king was a worthy opponent.
He drew his sword, pointing it at empty space; facing off an invisible opponent.
He charged.
*
Cherandle watched as the strange young man jumped and spun, parried and thrusted against someone who wasn't there. He was a good swordsman, and she should know- her father just happened to be one.
Finally, he was done, and with one final cry he stuck the sword into the torso of his imaginary adversary. He sheathed a bloodless blade into his scabbord.
Cherandle felt she should applaud the swordsman's skill- so she did.
*
Dilandau's crimson eyes looked up with a start at the sound of clapping. About twenty feet away; a girl on horseback was looking at him and applauding.
He couldn't help but smile.
The girl slid off of her horse to the ground.
"Are you a soldier?" she asked.
"I used to be," Dilandau said.
The girl was confused by this.
"Used to. . .?"
"Used to be a soldier," Dilandau repeated, "Now, just a fighter."
"Were you a part of the fulfilling of the Wind Goddess prophecy?" She asked, excietdly.
"You could say that," Dilandau shrugged.
The girl walked closer, allowing Dilandau to get a better look at her. She had dark hair that fell to her shoulders, and green eyes. Her skin had the tone of someone who enjoyed a lot of outdoor life.
"Tell me what it was like in Torushina?" she begged.
Dilandau was a bit taken aback, "Why should a little village girl want to know about something like that?," he asked with a smirk.
The 'little village girl' returned the smirk, and looked up at the moon.
"War is a facsinating thing, don't you think?" she asked, "The idea of two sides fighting relentlessly for what they believe is right. . . There's beauty in that, however deadly it may be. Don't you agree?" She looked back at him.
Dilandau's eyebrows raised, accenting the smirk which already graced his countenace. 'Beautiful' and 'deadly' were certainly two words he would associate with war. . . and himself.
"The whole city was devistated," he told her, "Escaflowne, the god of the sky, descended on the city and caused the deaths of thousands. . . Does that really seem beautiful to you?" He asked again.
"In a way," she shrugged, walked still closer, and sat down in the grass next to him, looking up at the stars, "I suppose I would see it differently if I had been there. . . But to be detatched from it makes the whole thing seem almost like a dream."
Dilandau looked down at this strange little girl who had, apparently, appeared out of nowhere just to confuse him. She intrigued him.
He sat down next to her.
"What is your name?" He asked her.
"Cherandle," she said, "Cherandle Zarain. And you?"
"Dilandau."
"Just Dilandau?"
"Dilandau Albatou."
"Are you out here all alone, Dilandau Albatou?"
"Why would you ask that?" There was a game going on between them now, even though neither of them might admit it. A game of hard-to-get.
"Because you are out here all alone."
"So why do you have to ask?"
"I don't know. . . Why do I have to ask?"
The answer, as soon as she asked the question, seemed obvious if irrational. Dilandau looked into the emerald-green eyes of this girl, Cherandle, who had come out of the night just for him. Just when he had been freed of military binds.
He leaned forwards and kissed her.
And she kissed back.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A/N: Wow, I think I like this version of the Dilandau/Cherandle story better than the one based on the TV show. . . I mean, at least they're both still alive at the end of this one. ;-) Well, tell me what you think!
This short fic is based upon the movie version of Escaflowne, and takes place after the movie is over. It is also a bit of a spin-off of my other Esca fic, "As It Always Will Be", a Dilandau romance fic. It is not neccessary to have read "AIAWB" to read this, but it might help ;-) .
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Even on distanced planes of reality are lovers destined to meet. . .
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"We'll stop here."
Dilandau reigned his horse in and swung his leg over the side, falling to the ground on his feet. His three remaining Dragon Slayers followed suit as their leader knealt by the pool of water and took a small drink.
Dilandau shook his hand, freeing the drops of water from it as he sat back in the grass. So Folken was dead. . . Or at least it was reasonable to believe that Folken was dead. He smiled, remembering the numerous ways in which Folken used to torture and humiliate him. His left hand still ached from where his finger had been last dislocated. Although, Folken HAD given him the power of dragon armor. . .
What did it matter? Dilandau was neither glad nor angry that his leader had been annihalated; just happy he didn't have to go through any of that psychokinetic stuff again. He was his own leader now- and when the next war came, it would be Dilandau at the forefront.
The way it should be.
*
Cherandle Zarain loved riding at night.
Her horse, Pheonix, seemed to love it too. Every night she would hear him whinnying from the stables, and when she came for him he would buck his flaming red mane towards his back, beckoning her on. Usually obeying, she would fetch the saddle her father had given her and go out for a small ride.
Her mother had nearly forbade Cherandle to ride that night- after the descent of the god Escaflowne, who knows what could be coming up? But rumors were spreading quickly through the villages that the worst of it was over, and the Wind Goddess had acsended back into the sky.
Besides, Mom and Dad were already asleep. What Mother didn't know wouldn't hurt her.
Cherandle looked up at the sky- yes, the Mystic Moon was gone. So the Wind Goddess had ascended after all.
So, the worst was over.
Cherandle's attention was caught by something off the path she was riding. She looked- someone was running in the field, sword drawn- but there was no opponent.
"Strange people come out at night," Arvin Zarain had alwayd said. . .
*
Dilandau didn't remember much from his 'former life' with the dog people of the forest. He had been snatched early out of it be Folken to be trained as a soldier.
However, even after he had been taken, he had been followed. By one who wouldn't give up on him. By the one who had been his caretaker in the forest village.
The Black Dragon soldier Jajuka.
Dilandau knew full well that Jajuka had nearly sacrificed all he believed in by becoming a Black Dragon, but it wouldn't have mattered; because the entire village was captured not long after Dilandau was taken. Secretly, behind the back of the ever-watchful Folken, Jajuka had taught Dilandau to think like a forest being, move like one, use their instinct.
The one thing he couldn't get past was Dilandau's apparent need to constantly disobey Folken's orders.
Did Jajuka really care about that? No. He had always hated Folken more than he could say. But he had always been more protective of his own neck than Dilandau had been of his.
Where was Jajuka now? Dilandau didn't know. But no doubt the information would come along sooner or later.
Looking around, he found he had travelled far from the site where he and his Slayers had bedded down; through he could still spot their horses when he looked back in the direction from which he had come. Ahead of him was a small village.
Everywhere else was a wide, sweeping feild.
A small smile crept across Dilandau's lips. He had rather enjoyed what little bouts with 'Lord Van' he had been able to participate in. The young king was a worthy opponent.
He drew his sword, pointing it at empty space; facing off an invisible opponent.
He charged.
*
Cherandle watched as the strange young man jumped and spun, parried and thrusted against someone who wasn't there. He was a good swordsman, and she should know- her father just happened to be one.
Finally, he was done, and with one final cry he stuck the sword into the torso of his imaginary adversary. He sheathed a bloodless blade into his scabbord.
Cherandle felt she should applaud the swordsman's skill- so she did.
*
Dilandau's crimson eyes looked up with a start at the sound of clapping. About twenty feet away; a girl on horseback was looking at him and applauding.
He couldn't help but smile.
The girl slid off of her horse to the ground.
"Are you a soldier?" she asked.
"I used to be," Dilandau said.
The girl was confused by this.
"Used to. . .?"
"Used to be a soldier," Dilandau repeated, "Now, just a fighter."
"Were you a part of the fulfilling of the Wind Goddess prophecy?" She asked, excietdly.
"You could say that," Dilandau shrugged.
The girl walked closer, allowing Dilandau to get a better look at her. She had dark hair that fell to her shoulders, and green eyes. Her skin had the tone of someone who enjoyed a lot of outdoor life.
"Tell me what it was like in Torushina?" she begged.
Dilandau was a bit taken aback, "Why should a little village girl want to know about something like that?," he asked with a smirk.
The 'little village girl' returned the smirk, and looked up at the moon.
"War is a facsinating thing, don't you think?" she asked, "The idea of two sides fighting relentlessly for what they believe is right. . . There's beauty in that, however deadly it may be. Don't you agree?" She looked back at him.
Dilandau's eyebrows raised, accenting the smirk which already graced his countenace. 'Beautiful' and 'deadly' were certainly two words he would associate with war. . . and himself.
"The whole city was devistated," he told her, "Escaflowne, the god of the sky, descended on the city and caused the deaths of thousands. . . Does that really seem beautiful to you?" He asked again.
"In a way," she shrugged, walked still closer, and sat down in the grass next to him, looking up at the stars, "I suppose I would see it differently if I had been there. . . But to be detatched from it makes the whole thing seem almost like a dream."
Dilandau looked down at this strange little girl who had, apparently, appeared out of nowhere just to confuse him. She intrigued him.
He sat down next to her.
"What is your name?" He asked her.
"Cherandle," she said, "Cherandle Zarain. And you?"
"Dilandau."
"Just Dilandau?"
"Dilandau Albatou."
"Are you out here all alone, Dilandau Albatou?"
"Why would you ask that?" There was a game going on between them now, even though neither of them might admit it. A game of hard-to-get.
"Because you are out here all alone."
"So why do you have to ask?"
"I don't know. . . Why do I have to ask?"
The answer, as soon as she asked the question, seemed obvious if irrational. Dilandau looked into the emerald-green eyes of this girl, Cherandle, who had come out of the night just for him. Just when he had been freed of military binds.
He leaned forwards and kissed her.
And she kissed back.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A/N: Wow, I think I like this version of the Dilandau/Cherandle story better than the one based on the TV show. . . I mean, at least they're both still alive at the end of this one. ;-) Well, tell me what you think!