Disclaimer: Escaflowne and all variations of its product (i.e.) characters belong to Sunrise, Bandai, etc.
Author's Note: If this fic disturbs you—my apologies because that wasn't my intention. Do be warned, there are *mature themes* in this fic. I was inspired by "Musaboru Deshita" by Ryu-Itsutsu. But I wrote this from Allen's POV . : . much more sympathetic. Happy reading!
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Please Protect My Little Sister
By: Remalna Marguerite
Celena married her prince today. I gave her away and held her in my arms one last time before she got onto the ship that would take her to distant Fanelia. She looked radiantly beautiful; but the happiness shining from her clear, blue eyes ripped at my heart. During our carriage ride to the church, I tried to memorize her face—to engrave it into my memory. Who knew when last we would see each other again? My intense and solemn gaze must have made her nervous, for her cheeks coloured slightly. A blushing bride, I thought cynically. She smiled.
"Oh Allen, you needn't worry." She assured me, "I can take care of myself."
"But you've never traveled so far in your life." I said. Did I sound as hurt as I felt? I hoped not. I averted my eyes to stare stubbornly at the passing scenery. She did not respond and I did not dare to look at her. The silence stretched out between us. Suddenly, from the corner of my eyes, I saw her move to sit beside me. I felt her fingers brush against my cheekbone. Breathe, Schezar, slow breaths, breathe.
"Allen. Allen, please—look at me." Her voice was small. "Don't you trust my decision? Don't you trust Van?"
Ah, yes. Van, my friend and young ruler of Fanelia. When I first met him--in the forest by the border--he'd tried to fight me. But somehow, during the course of the Great War, we had become as close as brothers. Then, when Hitomi left, I saw him slip into a deep depression. He had lost the girl he loved to Fate and it seemed to me, for a time, that he would never recover. But, inevitably, one day, he met Celena. From the beginning, I tried to selfishly break the budding romance…but it was too late. They had fallen in love and I was going to be alone, once more. Ironic, is it not?
"I trust you, Celena." I told her finally. Her rosy lips curved into a warm smile.
"I shall write often—every week!" She exclaimed purposefully. Perhaps, I thought to myself, but somehow I knew that her new role as Van's bride left little time for an older brother in Asturia. But I did not tell her that. I did not want to ruin her wedding day. The rest of the trip was quiet and uneventful. However, when we neared the church, Celena became agitated and asked me if she looked alright.
"You look beautiful." I said to her and squeezed her hands—they were warm compared to my icy cold ones. "Are you ready? Are you sure?" My heart stopped when I realized she was seriously considering my words. Was she having second thoughts? Perhaps, after all ….
"Yes. I'm sure. I want to marry Van." A transformation came over her; she lost her nervousness altogether, and looked confident and content once more. My heart fell.
Tall stain-glass windows illuminated the inside of the church and our friends applauded as I walked Celena down the aisle. An eerie sense of deja-vu swept over me: I have done this before. It seemed that Allen Schezar was destined, or cursed, to give away the woman he loved to another…first Marlene, then Millerna, and now, more painfully than the other times, Celena. A part of me wanted to bolt out of there and crumble from the heartache, but I was trained too well to break convention. I had an important duty to perform…duty and honour…my ever-constant companions. And then, the next thing I knew, my sister was no longer Celena Schezar but Celena Fanel. Fanel…married…Celena was married.
At the banquet after the wedding, I tried to talk to her alone. I wanted to tell her how much she meant to me—but she was busy receiving praises and compliments. I had to admit, she and Van made a handsome couple, she with her fair colouring and he with his darker complexion and hair. From across the room, she caught my eye. I tried to smile at her but I could not…I was breaking up inside…so instead, I raised my glass and toasted her. I think she was going to wave to me, but Van whispered something in her ear and her attention was diverted. Celena had never been very good at focusing on one thing for long.
"My dear friends," She announced. I looked in her direction. "I shall be leaving now…on a grand adventure with my beloved husband. I wish you all great joy and happiness!" The guests raised their glasses and saluted. "To joy and happiness!" Woodenly, I mimicked their gesture.
Soon, all too swiftly, the newlyweds left for the docks. I saw them off.
"Allen," Van said to me, very soberly, "I will treat her well. I do love her." I nodded.
"You must visit as soon as you can." Celena said, her voice was slightly urgent. I nodded once more for I was incapable of words at this point. Suddenly, tears welled up in her beautiful blue eyes. I hastily and unthinkingly reached out my hand and brushed away a teardrop. At my touch she began to cry in earnest…destroying my defenses with a single stroke. Throwing caution to the winds, I pulled her gently into my arms and…kissed her one last time. If only perfect moments could last. If they could only be suspended in time….
"Celena, we have to go." Van said softly. She nodded quickly and I let my arms drop.
"Good bye Allen." Her lips trembled.
"Good bye Celena."
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She was truly gone. It has been ten years since I last saw my sister—on her wedding day.
I sit here, in the old library of my inherited estate, gazing at a half finished portrait of her. I could not remember why the painting was not complete. But it did not matter, for the artist had managed to capture her face in perfect likeness. Her eyes seemed to smile at me, as if to reassure me that everything was going to be all right. And, surprisingly, I feel that it will be. The year is drawing to a close, and perhaps, just perhaps, I will find the courage to visit her. In Fanelia.
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Author's Note: I leave it up to your interpretation. But from the reviews for the poem (also called "Please Protect My Little Sister") I think most people understood it. Review? Review!