For One Smiling Day
DISCLAIMER: The Vision of Escaflowne is not legally mine. If it was, Folken and Eries would have been together.
NOTE: Remember that Folken/Eries chapter story I planned to write after "No Such Luck"? This still isn't it.
This is a bittersweet little one-shot that I was inspired to write after listening again to a song from "The King and I" called "We kiss in the shadow". Upon hearing it again, I realized how perfect it was for Folken and Eries and I decided to drop what I was doing (including some school work and my entries for Zutara week) to post this on Bastille Day.
It's quite sad, and cheesy.
Hope you enjoy another random and impulsive "paper bullet from my brain." No time or energy for quality control but hopefully this isn't crap.
Happy Bastille Day! Vive la Liberté!
We kiss in a shadow
We hide from the moon
Our meetings are few
And over too soon…
Neither of them could remember how it had all started. They were in too deep when they finally noticed the change.
She had been the kindest to him when he sought asylum after the deaths of Naria and Eria. Although she had every reason to suspect and doubt him but she never did. Unlike Dryden, Allen, and the other Asturian nobles, she never threw him an accusatory glance, and there was never pity in her eyes, only compassion.
They were always very civil to each other, since they were already acquainted, having represented their countries in state affairs on several occasions. The Asturians had reluctantly welcomed him into their fold so that they could gain information about Zaibach. He had expected a cold reception.
And yet, she had always been accommodating and hospitable. He recognized her sincerity in spite of her formal and diplomatic demeanor, and he was deeply appreciative of all this. It seemed that she had gone so far as to offer her friendship, and as undeserving as he felt of such a gift, he accepted it wholeheartedly.
He had ventured to ask her about it once, and the result of this exchange had been revelatory to both.
"Why, if I may be so bold," he asked her, "are you being so generous to me?"
"Because I honestly believe that you are a good person," she replied calmly and earnestly, "misguided though your actions may have been."
He smiled at such a kind estimation of him.
"Not unlike you, then," he added, "but no one can ever accuse you of poor judgment. You actions are not so much misguided as they are misunderstood."
This time, it was she who smiled in approval. He then extended his hand and she stretched out hers to shake his.
But to both their surprise, he lifted her hand and gently pressed her fingers to his lips.
Her eyes had widened at this but she made no objection.
"You are a very puzzling man, Lord Folken," she told him then, "I do not know what to make of you."
"Sometimes, neither do I," he had replied softly, before taking his leave.
But puzzlement gave way to a growing certainty after that incident. And he was daring enough to kiss her hand on several more occasions, although he would leave immediately after it was done, in a vain attempt to suppress his emotions.
After one such instance, he had already walked several steps away from her, and was obscured in the shadow of one of the palace's pillars. At that moment, he felt tempted to turn around, so he did.
She was no longer facing him but was standing on one side, seemingly contemplating on the hand he had just kissed. And then, slowly and tenderly, she raised the back of her hand to her lips.
But almost as soon as she had done this, she felt her hand being pulled away and replaced by Folken's lips on hers.
He drew her closer to him, almost desperately, as if afraid that she would be taken from him at that very instant.
Her eyes had grown wide at the shock of contact, but she soon leaned into his arms and returned the kiss with equal ardor.
This was no impulse of the moment but a culmination and accumulation of countless other moments, lingering glances, compassionate words, painful memories, sympathetic gestures, profound discussions, civil negotiations, and all other shared experiences in the whole of their acquaintance, blended incomprehensibly with the uncertainty of the circumstances and the certainty of their own feelings.
We speak in a whisper
Afraid to be heard
When people are near
We speak not a word
It was hardly the time for a secret love, but there it was. Those clandestine meetings in the gardens of the palace. Moments of respite from the burden of duties.
They were both aware of the difficulties of their predicament, no one could be more conscious of this. He was a traitor granted asylum by the country she was trying to lead in her father's stead. A war raged in their world, one that threatened to destroy them all.
Eries wondered at this. Were all Aston women doomed to love in vain? She and her sisters never seemed to be lucky in love. And yet, like her sisters, she was steadfast and unyielding, determined to love only whom she chose, no matter how painful this would prove to be.
But even with all the justified objections against this feeling, neither of them could fight it.
Then, there was the matter of his imminent death. He had shown her his wings, stained with his sin and mark of his doom. He had done this to try to dissuade her from growing close to him, to prevent more pain.
That he loved her, he was certain. But he knew that there could be no future for them. It was best to stop while they were ahead.
And yet, they could not deny what they felt, selfish though it may be.
No one knew him better than she, and the same held for her. She had seen through all the masks he had sported as the Strategos of Zaibach, and he had always known the gentle heart behind her cold exterior.
Though she had turned away in tears when he showed her the raven wings, she had returned to his side quickly. And then, to his surprise, she had placed her hand upon his heart, and looked at him with those shining eyes telling him that she would never let him go.
"Eries," he had whispered in awe, as he placed his hand over hers, the syllables of her name suddenly acquiring a deeper, sacred meaning, like a heartfelt prayer.
"I love you," she had said with fierce finality, showing that she would brook no opposition. Arguing with her on this point would be futile.
He smiled gently and with endless gratitude. And then he repeated those three words that had given him redemption beyond all his expectations.
She was unexpected healing at a time when he thought there was no more hope. She awakened feelings in him which he thought were long gone. He would not so soon lose what he had found and yet he knew that he did not, could not deserve her.
He felt luckier beyond anything Emperor Dornkirk could have conjured with the Destiny Prognostication engine. But he saw how fate was cruel to him, giving him something more to live for, when he could no live no longer.
They did not speak of the limited time they had together. They simply enjoyed each other's company for as long as they still could. Somehow, when the world was on the verge of ending, they wanted to cling to the little happiness that was granted them, even if it was dearly bought.
But no matter how hard they wished otherwise, destiny would still run its course.
Alone in our secret
Together we sigh
For one smiling day
To be free…
Months passed before she could finally bring herself to visit his grave. Without questions, Van lead her to the sunlit clearing where his brother had his final resting place.
She could never imagine him a cold, lifeless corpse, lying beneath a ceremonial headstone.
"I'm glad you found your way home," she told him with a smile as she sat comfortably on the grass by his tomb, "and now I have only to face a whole lifetime without you by my side."
She paused, stifling a sob, struggling to maintain her composure. But she would allow herself this moment of weakness. She missed him terribly.
As a gentle breeze touched her face, she imagined that it was him, wiping away her tears. She almost laughed at herself.
"I'm not completely helpless, you know," she said.
"I know you're not," she seemed to hear him reply, an echo in the wind, "you never were."
After spending some more time by the tombstone, sharing all her doubts and fears, she stood and straightened out her gown. Now that she had seen this place, she found that it was not as difficult to leave as she had first thought.
"I managed well without you before," she declared, "so I suppose, I shall have to manage on my own a while longer."
She pressed her palm to her lips and then gently placed the kiss on the cold stone.
"This is not farewell," she whispered, "but until we meet again."
Alone in our secret
Together we sigh
The sun shone brightly over Palas on the day Princess Eries was laid to rest. There were many who mourned her passing, for the noble lady had done innumerable services to her country for many years, and her legacies would never be forgotten.
But it was not in sorrow or bitterness that they bid her farewell for she had lived a long and fruitful life, accomplishing more than any other person in her generation. She had been an invaluable adviser to her younger sister, who had assumed their father's place at last, and who had constantly consulted Eries on every important matter. Though never doing anything glorious or grand, Eries Aston had been a dutiful servant to her people.
And yet, many had wondered at why, until the very end, she remained alone, refusing to marry, though many offers had been made to her. Instead, she had contented herself with fulfilling her duties and taking care of Celena Schezar.
She had been secretive to a fault, and no one had ever succeeded in peering into her mind or her heart. Out of great respect, no one dared pry into her private life, which was not much considering how much time she spent serving her country as a diplomat and administrator.
Some had thought that perhaps the girl from the Mystic Moon might divine Eries' thoughts, but others said that even the seer's powers might not be able to penetrate the barrier the discreet princess had erected around her secrets.
So Eries had remained a mystery to all, and even in death, she was as enigmatic as ever. She had a serene expression on her face when she passed away, a small smile of contentment accentuating her features.
She had worked hard all her life and never complained. Everyone believed that it was only fitting for her to finally rest.
For one smiling day
To be free…
The whole scene was appropriate. She was in a garden, bathed in the warm glow of some source greater than the sun. She was young again, as young as she had been during the war.
Eries smiled as she strolled through the ethereal grove, vaguely aware of a cool, soothing breeze rustling the leaves of the trees, and the faint melody of nature diffused around the area.
She walked forward eagerly, instinctively knowing which direction to take. For this was a moment she had seen so many times in her dreams only to have it shattered whenever she woke. But she knew that this was no longer a dream, and that she would never again wake up to that gaping emptiness.
She began to run, feeling impatient all of a sudden, although she knew that this time, she had all the time in the world. Nevertheless, she did not want to delay any longer.
At length, she came to a clearing in the grove, and she raised her hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the light. And then, something stirred and materialized in the light.
An expression of absolute happiness illuminated her face as she recognized the figure before her. In a moment, she was running as fast as she could towards him.
Folken smiled back at her as he extended his arms and caught her in a warm, heartfelt embrace.
She buried her face in his chest contentedly before looking up and smiling brightly at him.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," she told him.
"That doesn't matter," he replied with a loving smile, placing a hand on her face gently, "we're together now. And this time, nothing can ever part us."
That smiling day had come at last, and they were free…
To kiss in the sunlight
And say to the sky
Behold and believe what you see
Behold how my lover loves me