A/N: The finale, or is it?
Once again, thanks to Jav-chan for betaing (yes it's a verb because I say so :P) And all the reviews. You people are my stars!
Chapter 2: Restless
It was not in her nature to be angry.
Many people thought of her as an easy going person, too easy going in her father's opinion. But she hadn't felt at ease whatsoever since they had left Pallas that afternoon. It made her stomach clench in discomfort that she no longer felt comfortable at the thought of returning home.
Did Fanelia even feel like home anymore?
It was one of the many thoughts that angered her, but depressed her more so.
The worst of it was that she felt the sudden urge to curl up in her room or a library and cry until she felt better or tired of it and she was unable to.
Instead she had been forced into a torture device that not only pinched her in the worst way but showed far too much skin for her liking. What made it more nerve-wracking was the colour. Her entire surroundings were pushing her over the cliff into the icy waters, and the fact her dress was his favourite colour did nothing to help whatsoever.
She could only hope that he wouldn't notice her.
He hadn't communicated with her in any form since she had left.
This bursting overflow of negative energy didn't help her already restricted breathing, but only earlier that evening she had felt fear for the first time entering the Fanelian Palace.
She could feel in every firing synapse that if their eyes even met she wouldn't be able to control herself. She would march across to him and slap him until he fell to his knees and begged for forgiveness.
Her best friend, her oldest friend had not responded to her whatsoever and dammit, he would need to do some serious grovelling before she even looked at him again.
When they had waited in the entrance hall for the appearance of the Royal Family, she had stood with the group of Asturian courtiers she had come to know over the past two years.
She had carefully manoeuvred herself as far away from Allen as possible, aware that he was a good friend of the King and could be approached by him. There were other reasons to avoid Allen, but they paled at the current circumstances.
However her plan of blending in with the vermillion tapestries failed when the Asturian Queen had walked up to her and started a conversation, slipping her gloved arm through her own bare one.
She had nothing whatsoever against Millerna-sama. The woman had been rather friendly on the occasions she had joined her and her companions for tea. She would even go as far as calling the Queen a friend.
But Millerna had done things that made Hitomi rethink this classification.
It had been the Asturian Queen that had chosen this dress for Hitomi. And not only the outrageous design, but the colour and shade had made Hitomi lose all patience and appreciation for the Queen.
It wasn't as if she could reject the Queen's idea, how could she explain that she didn't want to wear a rather acceptable dress because of the colour.
Saying something like that would turn her female companions into relentless hounds about whatever she was hiding.
But she wasn't hiding anything. She had nothing to hide. Nothing.
Her fists clenched as she recognised her complete hypocrisy at such a statement. She had been hiding for the past two years.
Her unease decreased slightly during the banquet as she had been seated a reasonable distance from him.
But her nerves had strung themselves out when the group had moved to the ballroom. Controlling herself enough to not spare him a glance, her desperation grew as the sunlight outside faded.
She was desperate, desperate for something. At least a reaction, and it sickened her. She had been forced to come. It was not of her own will that she had brought herself to her own personal Hades.
So, in acceptance of the torture to come she had prepared herself to be a perfect courtier. She would be polite, accepting of the traditions and not bother his Majesty in any way, shape or form.
But dammit she was wearing a dress that was the total opposite of what she had normally worn two years previous. This certainly wasn't one of the loose smocks she had grown up in, or a plain dress that allowed for her to run after him when he would take a book she was reading from under her nose.
She was not expecting him to fall at her feet, or hold out a diamond the size of Arzas in request, but in the name of Escaflowne's scaly hide he hadn't even looked at her once! Never mind that he hadn't even approached her!
Had he lost all interest in her as a friend completely?
Did he really not care at all?
Was he not surprised by her attire? Did he think nothing of the amount of skin she had been forced to show?
She usually hated the idea of male attention when looked upon as an attractive ornament, but she had grudgingly accepted her dress' cut was a beacon for the ever increasing amount of intoxicated male courtiers.
His Majesty on the other hand?
He had not even bothered to make eye contact.
Had the two years in passing given him so many opportunities to enjoy the female form that her dress didn't even register on his plane of thought? Such an idea turned her stomach and her vision blurred in shock.
She had spent the entire evening clenching every available muscle, awaiting some acknowledgement, terrified that if he even breathed in the same air space she would use her fists to make his face mirror the pockmarked moon. Or maybe punch harder so he would have green shapes, mirroring the Mystic Moon instead.
She sniffled as calmly as possible, recalling Lady Yukari's running commentary on the various guests and members of state, with Allen's sister Lady Celena chiding her every so often or giggling at her remarks.
She on the other hand had focused her gaze on a tapestry, depicting the rite of dragon slaying showing the king's great-great-grandfather standing triumphant over the dead body of a red dragon, its blood curling along the edges of the tapestry.
Finding herself sympathising with the dead creature, she sighed, then tensed as a hand placed itself on her mostly bare shoulder. It was sheer luck that she saw the long blonde hair, before her instinct to turn and slap kicked in.
She was also glad that Allen was slightly dim when it came to recognizing whether she was smiling genuinely or not.
Fortunately he walked away after a surprisingly small amount of argument she was coaxed into a debate about Fanelian trade links with some of the courtiers she knew.
A strange feeling settled in her stomach as the group decided to retire for the night. To her chagrin they were one of the last groups to leave.
As she stood up, it felt like her throat had fallen into her stomach.
Her eyes, like many other females that night had swept the room every so often. Unlike the other females, she had observed only one man. And now that she was leaving the fanciful chamber, it hurt to acknowledge that he hadn't looked at her once.
Not once.
It was these thoughts that had led her to this very room. The threatening words of her fellow females to not crinkle the dress were thrown out the window she sat by as she curled up on the cushioned window seat.
Having promised herself not to cry, she felt that in accordance with the evening's shattering of expectations it was slightly more than acceptable. Or rather she didn't care any longer.
And in this room of all places.
Her eyes scanned the room lit by shades of moonlight as it framed the rocking chairs, the unused fireplace, and the heavily knit rugs lying across the thick carpeted floor. She couldn't even smile at the relic of her childhood she was moping in.
And at this stage, what was the point in pretending she wasn't moping?
The cold touch of the windowpane did nothing to calm her, but the worst part was that she had no one to talk to about it. No one.
No that wasn't true. Rather, she felt that no one would understand her stream of consciousness. Not even His Majesty Himself.
She snorted then swallowed painfully, wincing at her dry throat.
Deciding that enough was enough, she stretched slowly, forming a plan to get away from the spectres clouding her thoughts. Her eyes swung to the door moments before the dull thud was heard, followed by the door opening.
Her own mind shuddered to a halt, unable to make any quips about fate or good timing as Van Fanel stepped into the room, swaying with the momentum and leaning on the door for support.
"Hitomi?"
To be continued….again…
Also, not meaning to be rude but a single "it's cool" would be greatly appreciated! You even get your name on the page! XD *pulls puppy eyes*
Thanks go to:
Jav_chan – complain much? Joke! Joke! Huggles. Lol and thanks for the help xx
The Moonspinner – I guess so. And here's your update xx
Rowenra – review por favor?
Mysisterisasquijum – Thank you. And the focus is mainly on our two main characters.
Amy – thanks!
thepinkmartini – Well, the girl could be someone else, couldn't she? ^^
InLuvWidVan - Cheers Hon! And yes, I'm procrastinating ^^ But am glad you like! xx
Lil' Dinky – well, your way of thinking IS very interesting!
RiverDolphin - a comment? ^^