So I love Last Exile. A lot. It was my first anime, and my favorite. I cosplayed Alex Rowe recently and met Crispin Freeman. In preparation for all that, I rewatched the series for the first time since it was released to DVD. This is what came of it all.
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On Earth, Sophia Forrester recalls her captain. His dismissive attitude towards her, his disgruntled features and empty eyes, the pitch black hair that melted into the darkness of the bridge at night. The Silvana was their home, their life, the one thing that they shared and ruled together as captain and first officer. She often reminded him never to forget her status aboard his vessel. First and foremost, she was his vice-captain. She repeated his orders and took rein of the crew if he was unable to serve in his position for some reason. His melancholy often served him a full plate of anger and guilt, drizzled with regret and unabashed sorrow. Perhaps a hint of sarcasm or harsh words on the side. They exchanged quips on deck, surrounded by their crew who knew all too well of her feelings towards their captain. And she was never ashamed. But while on duty, her attitude was one of professionalism that lacked hesitancy to carry out Alex's orders. When their ship was not in the heat of a battle, it was stationed someplace for a few nights for refueling. Sophia would move as silently as possible throughout the levels to find her captain, to speak to him about anything. To some degree, they were friends albeit Alex was nearly ten years her elder and ten years more experienced in the skies. Sophia knew that when she was only nine, Alex was already in the Grand Stream.
With Euris.
Sophia knew that she would never be able to replace the woman in Alex's mind but always had the suspicion that she reminded him of Euris. She saw a photograph once on his desk. He never touched it, never moved it, always in plain sight if he wanted to steal a glance while writing in his log book. For this reason, she could never dress casually or let down her hair in his sight. She never dared to do so until she was proclaimed princess and he told her that her hair was unprofessional aboard a ship.
But that was months ago.
Once while docked at a port, Alex remained in his quarters as the crew went out and enjoyed themselves. Sophia knocked on his door.
"Enter," she heard from within.
Stepping inside, she saw Alex to her left at his desk, having just finished an entry. His cape was slung aside onto the cushions lining the wall, arms crossed on his desk, a tumbler half-full of ice and whiskey at his elbow. He did not look up as she stood beside him.
"What is it?" he asked dryly.
"The crew is out, Sir. May I join you here?"
Raised eyebrows accompanied a soft "Hm" as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs, arms folding tight across his chest. He looked up at Sophia who maintained resolute eye contact from behind her glasses, hands tight at her sides.
Even after years aboard this ship in service of Alex Rowe, her love-at-first-sight reaction often got the best of her. Dim candle light reflected in his brown eyes, his hands were always encased in their black leather gloves and she always desired to see and hold the fingers that were within. It was often difficult for her to work with the center of her love and yet be completely unable to reach him since he was always lost within his mind. Every day, she sought a new opportunity to break through those impenetrable barriers but her hopes were futile. Sometimes she believed in the little signs of false affections, fooling herself into delusions that would only hurt her in the end.
"You may," he replied.
"Thank you, Sir." Sophia bowed and retreated to sit behind Alex's chess table where the source bottle of the whiskey currently stood. It was half-empty.
She knew he drank. She knew he drank a lot while alone ... to drown his memories in various clear and amber liquids.
"Alex," she said softly. "Did you drink all of this tonight?"
A few moments of silence before he responded. "What is it to you?"
"Too much can be unhealthy. I am concerned about your habits."
"What I do in the privacy of my cabin is none of your business, Sophia. Nor does it impair my judgment as a captain of his ship. If you are unhappy with what you see, you may leave."
"I am sorry, Sir. Do what you want. You're right," she said standing. "It's no concern of mine."
At this, she left without another glance and shut the door behind her.
With her back to the door, Sophia cursed herself for her sudden come-and-go. Get back in there. Don't run away this time. Instead, Sophia took a deep breath and strode back to her own cabin to contemplate her words.
When she returned later, she composed herself as an officer about to speak to her captain and knocked again. Once more, she heard his word of permission and pulled open the door to step inside his room. He had moved to recline on the sofa where she had sat just a while before, arms stretched to either side, head hung back and eyes closed.
"What is it this time, Sophia?"
"I have come to offer an apology. It was rude of me to point out your alcohol consumption tonight. I simply did not wish -" she noticed that the bottle was now empty. "Alex! You finished that? It's only been an hour!"
"And I will ask you again, Sophia. What concern is it of yours?"
"I am concerned for your health! This is not a good habit!" She stepped forward, motioning to strip the tumbler from his grasp but he withdrew and switched the glass to his other hand. Sophia stood up straight with white-gloved hands on hips. "Don't you dare drink the rest of that!"
Then like a child, he asked, "Or else what?" A small smirk traced his lips and he sat the glass down on the table, kicking up his boots beside it. He looked away, his hair blocking his eyes from Sophia's view but she could tell that they were closed.
The bitter taste of immaturity rose in Sophia's blood and finally the nineteen-year-old within herself burst forth to declare words that she prayed would sting in her captain's ears for days to come.
"She is dead, Alex. Euris is dead and ten years later you still seek revenge even though you know that it will accomplish nothing. You will never see her again! Do you even remember what she looked like? What she sounded like? What she smelled like, felt like? Drinking solves nothing, Alex. Brooding like this in deep depression isolates you from the rest of us who serve under you. Despite your motivations, the crew respects you but they don't see you like this as I do now.
"And it is because of this," she gestured an accusatory finger at the empty whiskey bottle, "that you don't see what is right before your eyes! You see the skies so clearly out the port windows and can kill a man with one shot but you are blind to the rest of the world!"
"Are you the rest of the world?" Alex looked up at the shaking woman who now only appeared as a girl, weakened by her own words and emotions.
Sophia swallowed but did not break away from his piercing half-lidded stare. "I wish I could be," she stated resolutely. "But I will not be. I can never be because you will never allow it. Our positions will never allow it. But at least I can be your friend and from that position, I wish you would listen to me and consider what I say."
She sighed and hesitantly sat at the edge of Alex's sofa, only a foot away from his form. Even though Sophia looked at him as she continued to speak, Alex shut his eyes again and turned away.
"Please try to curb your drinking, Alex. I don't like seeing you like this. Too sullen, too caught up in your memories."
"My memories are my only motivation. This ship runs on a mission of revenge and you knew that when you took your position. Don't lecture me unless you want to leave."
"You've said that so many times. Suggesting that I leave if I'm not happy here. Do you want me to go? If you would prefer a better vice-captain, then you are going to have to dismiss me."
"I don't want you to go," he sighed.
Alex crossed his arms and collapsed down on his side, heels just barely kicking Sophia in the thigh. She briefly considered doing something horrible like pushing her captain's legs off the cushions so he'd tumble to the floor. He deserves it sometimes, she thought. Instead, she stood and knelt between he and the chess table, pushing a clump of black hair away with a contrasting white-gloved finger.
" What do you think you're doing?" Alex demanded to the cushions.
"It's really none of your business, Captain."
Sophia inched forward, as any daring teenage girl should do in this situation, tucking the strands of hair behind Alex's ear. Leaning down, she briefly succeeded in a feather-light kiss with a pounding heart that cried 'No' before a hand snatched out to take Sophia's wrist in a wrenching grip. Eyes flashed open, dark as the midnight sky, and Alex asked, "Why did you just do that?"
"Because you allowed it."
"You did not have my permission."
"But you did not move away when you felt me approach."
"I am captive in my own cabin, apparently. If I tried to bolt, you would stop me with more accusations. I can't give you what you want, you said that yourself. There's no point in this foolishness." He released Sophia's wrist, leaving red marks which were quick to fade. He closed his eyes again, huddling tighter into the cushions as a sign that Sophia really should leave now.
She should not have kissed him because now she would only crave his taste again. Standing, Sophia smoothed out her skirt and headed towards the door of his cabin.
"Sophia," he uttered. "Come – come back here for a moment."
With a hand to his temple, Alex sat up and crossed his legs and arms, indicating with a nod of his head that Sophia should sit beside him. She consented with hands clasped in her lap and proper posture, pushing her glasses back up into place.
Without looking at her, Alex asked, "Would you be happier if I granted you a decent kiss?"
Sophia's instinctual reaction would be to declare, 'Captain!' Instead she asked, "Would you?"
Alex scoffed under his breath and smiled. "It doesn't make a difference to me."
She prayed that this was a lie, that he would only offer her this opportunity if he wanted it as well but dared not ever admit it. All she could do was smile and turn to take her captain's face under her palm. Alex reached up to remove her glasses and set them beside her, adjusting himself to make the fated contact more comfortable for them both. Sophia's hand trembled but she swallowed her last fear and closed the distance between them with a firm but gentle kiss. She was coaxed moments later into a deeper kiss as Alex opened his lips to hers; Sophia only wished that now, perhaps, she could extract all the pain from him he had felt over the years, at least for a little while. At least until he needed to feel the pain again. But was he teasing her, pressing her palm against his face, taking her other hand in his own between them? Sophia felt undesirable tears welling in the backs of her eyes as she fully consumed the whiskey that tainted her captain's lips and breath. She knew that when this was all done, Alex would look at her again as no more than a necessary part of his ship and a friend of convenience. His black eyes would see through her to something only in his imagination and never once consider this moment as an aspect of a changed reality.
Despite the unbridled happiness that swelled in Sophia's chest, the pain she now felt far surpassed any positive emotions and she urged to break free. She loved this man far too deeply and he knew of her feelings, fulfilling a desire of hers several years overdue. She was grateful as their gloved hands held tightly to the other, their kiss deepening with each passing moment, and Sophia was led to believe that this was helping him even if he may have been thinking of Euris instead of her…
Breaking all contact, Alex declared in his typical negligent tone of voice, "That's enough. Please leave."
Dazed, Sophia could only sit and stare with still-parted lips. She noted that Alex's own had swelled slightly and her mind raged that she would never feel them again.
"Go. Now."
Sophia darted for the door, realizing too late that Alex still had her glasses, something that would have to retrieved before the night was through.
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After the recovery of Alvis, the discovery of Exile, and the death of her captain, Sophia was forced to hide her sorrow and depression under a regal and professional air. She carried empty hopes that maybe he didn't die, that he had escaped somehow. She knew that he did not whisper her name before his death but pretended like he did. This was small delusion, just enough to trigger the memories of close contact which never allowed for Sophia to dispel her love for her captain.