Title: Love Makes All the Difference

Rating: G

Summary: A sweet little vignette about the Fanel family, starring young Folken and chibi Van!

Author's Note and Disclaimer: One of my favorite Escaflowne scenes is the one with big brother Folken and little Van, reading the book about dragons together. This vignette is based off of that fluffy goodness, because anime brotherly love is so darn cute and one can never get enough of young, hot, pre-claw Folken. Mmmm…teenage Folken…

*slaps self*

Distribution: Want, take, have. Just ask me first!

Dedication: To my own sisters: Carrie and Valen. No, you didn't carry me out of mud puddles (in fact, as I recall we beat each other up a lot…), but I love and appreciate you both more than you'll ever know!

*~*~*

Folken Fanel felt a deep, reverberating chuckle rumble through him, his shoulders shaking with appreciative laughter at the sight of what had once been his spotless younger brother. The sulky creature that faced him now, with its intense brown eyes and fierce little frown, looked to be nothing more than a filthy street urchin. Not hardly the charming boy who had, just a mere hour ago, been cleaned and freshly clothed by their dutiful mother. By all regal standards, such a child was not fit to be the princely blood of any kingdom. But Folken knew better.

He eyed the other appraisingly, an amused grin triggering at the sound of plaintive sniffles. "Tell me Van, were you trying to take the whole puddle home with you?"

Van shook his head quickly in response, disheveled sable locks clinging limply to his dirt-streaked forehead. "No, it was an accident!" He promised with such a solemn urgency, it was all Folken could do to keep a straight face. "I didn't mean to get dirty, honest!"

The Fanelian heir dropped to one knee to regard his sibling with an equally grave countenance. "Well, If we're going to be honest about all of this," he began soberly, careful to humor his fretful companion. "Then I think it's safe to say you're a little more than just 'dirty'."

Gleaming tears sparked in Van's sorrowful orbs, and he nodded rather guiltily. "I know…and we're having company today, aren't we?"

Folken paused to deliberate, as if weighing the importance of the matter. "Yes, we are having guests this afternoon," he explained kindly. "But it's only some princess after all." His reassuring wink induced only a tentative smile, not nearly what he had hoped for. "We've had King Aston visit us before, remember?"

"But…" The six-year-old prince interjected fearfully, fidgeting with the drawstring of his soiled tunic. "But mother will be angry, won't she?"

Tenderly, Folken swiped a thumb across Van's miniature nose, uncovering a patch of olive skin. "That's just the thing," he conceded in a secretive whisper. "I don't see any reason why mother needs to know about this at all."

An adoring smile shone forth from beneath the layers of caked mud, and Van beamed up at his brother in pure awe. "Really?"

"Really." He ran a large palm through Van's tousled mane, mussing it affectionately. "Now come on, what do you say we get you all cleaned up?"

"Okay!" The youngest Fanel consented cheerfully, retrieving his wooden sword from a nearby shrub and shaking away the loose bits of foliage.

His older brother observed the process with pride, watching as Van cleaned the dull, clunky blade with fierce concentration and tucked it back into his play sheath.

"That's very good, Van," Folken encouraged him admiringly. "It's very important for a prince to take excellent care of his sword, as he may depend on it to save his life someday."

"Folken?" The doting voice at his side perked up, eager to be given full attention.

"Yeah?"

"I was just playing with Merle in the puddles…I didn't want to get yucky!" He informed him hurriedly, just in case Folken had forgotten that it was indeed an accident. "But…we were playing dragon slayer. And I pretended to be you." Van relayed, somewhat shyly. "Big brother, I want to be just like you someday."

Folken smiled, genuinely moved by what was, in all likelihood, the most profound compliment he had ever been paid. "I'm sure you will, for there are none braver. So tell me, did you get that dragon?" He inquired fondly.

"Well…she kinda got me," Van gestured to his grimy appearance, his childish features twisting with disdain.

The other laughed heartily at his explanation. "Then Merle must be in great need of a bath as well. Where has she run off to?"

But a chorus of royal horns signaling the arrival of, no doubt, their important guests interrupted Van's reply. Folken bent down and held out his hand, helping his small companion to scramble on top of his back.

"We should hurry now," he instructed good-naturedly as he got to his feet, Van safely in tow. "Before Mother and Father call for us. Merle will have to fend for herself."

The young prince eyed his surroundings from his place at his brother's shoulders, his muddy limbs leaving telltale streaks of grime all over Folken's fine clothing. "Uh-oh," he began timidly, as if fearful of an angry reaction. "I've made you all dirty…I'm sorry, brother. Your pretty clothes…"

"That's all right, Van," Folken offered pleasantly. "Now at least we match."

He was rewarded with a delighted giggle.

*~*~*

Varie, Queen of Fanelia, looked anxiously around the courtyard for her absentee sons. Her husband's guests, the royal family of Asturia, had just arrived and were presently headed towards the throne room to meet the House of Fanelia and its heirs. Yet both Folken and Van were nowhere to be found.

As she swept down another hallway leading off to one of the many verandas, a small bundle of fur caught her eye. The four-year-old catgirl, Merle, lounged in a sunlit corner, lazily licking at her mud-splattered coat. The Queen felt her hopes evaporate at the sight of her son's filthy companion. Where there was a muddy Merle, an extremely dirty Van could not be far behind.

"Merle, have you seen Van? You two weren't playing in the gardens this morning, were you?" Varie questioned, hoping rather than believing that this wasn't so. Somehow she already knew the answer.

The little catgirl sleepily meowed an affirmative, and then promptly lay her head down for a nap. Varie smiled in spite of herself at the gently twitching whiskers.

As if by coincidence, the sound of two very familiar voices drifted suddenly toward her on the light breeze, and Varie hurried to peer over the balcony wall. Below her, were the two untidy and unkempt princes, their formal attire now looking rather ill suited for the occasion. She considered calling down to them, a light scolding however half-hearted, but once she recognized their mutual looks of contentment, she found she had quite lost the motivation.

Sighing with amusement, the Queen made her way back to the throne room and her visitors. She would make her apologies to King Aston and his daughters; her sons were occupied at the moment. Impolite? Perhaps. Was she sorry for it? Not in the least. For Varie would always prefer her wild-hearted, unruly boys to any of the mindlessly obedient, simpering royalty of Gaea. Her family was not considered exemplary by the royal standards of the neighboring kingdoms (quite the opposite, in fact). However, what they lacked in traditional qualities, they made up for in love.

And for the Fanel family, it was love that made all the difference.

*~*~*

Fin