AN/ Whoohoo! I'm back! You know the drill, read, review (please), enjoy. Talk to ya'll later.



Part Five - An Eventful Dinner



"Allen," said the raven haired boy as he stood from his chair at the table. Van took a few steps forward and clasped the older man's hand in his own, "It's good to see you again,"



"It's good to see you as well Van," Allen replied, slapping a palm on the other's shoulder, "It's been too long,"



"Almost a year," The young King mused, releasing his friend, "How have you been?" Allen's smile wavered for a moment, but he quickly recovered, hoping no one else had noticed,



"Well, my friend, and yourself? How is Fanelia coming?"



"Better than I could have hoped," Van's dark eyes seemed to dance as he thought of his country, "Reconstruction is almost complete, it's going to be better than before Allen,"



"Of that I have no doubt Van," Allen grinned down at his friend and gave his shoulder one last pat before turning to his other guests, bowing deeply at the waist,



"My King, My Queen," He said solemnly, "I welcome into my home,"



"Come now Allen," Millerna giggle slightly, "There is no need for such formality. We're all friends here,"



"Quite right," Came a deep voice from behind the Queen. Dryden wrapped one arm around his wife's shoulders, the other reaching down to take both of her slender hands with his own, "Loosen up a bit, my friend," Millerna gazed up at her husband, leaning back against his chest. A year ago, Allen would have killed the man, now he smiled,



"I'll try, Dryden," he said as he straightened completely and made his way towards the table. Gazing at the empty setting, Allen frowned slightly, "Where is my sister?" He asked



"We don't know," Millerna replied, "We expected her to come with you," The guests had seated themselves on the opposite side of the table to Allen, with Dryden directly across from him, Millerna on her husband's right, Van on her other side, sitting across from the vacant chair. Allen scowled, where could she be? Just as he was about to excuse himself for a moment to find her, the large doors burst open to reveal a disheveled, very damp Celena, still in her green sundress from earlier that morning, stained and soaked from the rain and the grass where she had knelt. Her pale silver and gold hair was plastered to her brow, tangled and dripping into her eyes, which were slightly swollen and red. Has it started raining again? Allen wondered, How long has she been outside?



He was broken from his trance as Celena began to speak,



"Please excuse my lateness," She mumbled as she trudged toward the table, head bowed, eyes never leaving the hardwood floor. She looked so out of place in her soiled clothes and sopping hair, against Allen's pristine uniform, Millerna's pale rose dress with its frills and lace, and Dryden's stately robes of blue and green with their golden embroidery. Even Van's simple tan breeches and black silk tunic outshone Celena's shabby condition.



Silently taking her seat, Celena never lifted her eyes from the plate before her, not even seeming to notice the others at the table as she lifted her butter knife and began to twirl it between her fingers. Allen cleared his throat, shooting a worried glance at his sister. She didn't respond.



"Celena," he began quietly, "Allow me to introduce King Dryden and Queen Millerna visiting from Palas," Allen motioned toward the pair across the table. No response, "And this," He continued, trying desperately to keep the unease from his voice, "Is Van Fanel, King of Fanelia,"



That last word seemed to peak his sister's interest, the knife in her hand ceased its spinning and her eyes raised ever so slightly to meet Van's own,



"Fanelia. . ." She murmured, "I remember Fanelia. . ." Van's eyes held a bit of distrust as he gazed at the strange girl before him, and his voice seemed slightly suspicion as he responded,



"I did not know you had visited Fanelia, my lady. When were you there last?" Celena's eyes seemed to flash, her pupils dilating oddly, but she seemed to dismiss occurrence as she blinked rapidly, once, twice, and shook her head slightly,



"No, I have not been to Fanelia. What I meant to say was that I remembered the stories my brother told me of Fanelia. A beautiful land I hear, green and lush. . ." The girl trailed off the knife beginning to spin once again, her eyes dropping. Servants entered, carrying bowls of soup and several bottles of wine.



"It is beautiful," Van replied, dipping his spoon into the broth before him, "Perhaps you could visit one day?" Again, Celena offered no response. Allen lifted his eyes from his soup, glancing at his sister with anxiety clear on his face,



"Celena, King Van asked you a question. It is rude to ignore guests," Nothing. Spin, spin. "Celena. . ." He said again, more insistently. Spin, spin.



"It's all right Allen," Van said hastily, "I realize that your sister hasn't been quite herself lately. Really, its fine. I understand completely." The spinning suddenly stopped. Celena's head raised, the corner of her small mouth twitching slightly as she regarded the boy before her,



"You. . .understand?" Her voice was a low hiss, almost inaudible. Her eyes seemed to blaze again, pupils growing large, then contracting into pinpricks. Without warning Celena was over the table, knocking Van from his chair and pinning him across the chest with her legs. Millerna screamed, collapsing backwards into a startled Dryden, Allen jumped to his feet, cursing himself for not bringing his sword. The butter knife Celena had been twirling was pressed against Van's exposed throat as they lay on the floor, her other hand gripping his head, forcing his eyes to meet hers,



"Anyone moves," She said in a voice strangely huskier than usual, "He dies." Allen froze, he could do nothing. Millerna stared in horror from Dryden protective embrace as Celena leaned forward, stopping her face a mere finger's width from Van's own. Her pupils were slowly expanding and retracting, her irises changed from their normal sapphire blue to a hazy violet, and her mouth tugged up into a vicious smirk. She moved her head so that she could whisper directly into his ear, lips brushing the lobe and the side of his face as she spoke,



"You cannot possibly understand my pain Vaaan. . ."She drew out his name in a sickening manner, "You could never understand my pain. The pain you caused Van, my men, my Jajuka, my face. . ." The had which clutched his hair released and lifted to trace an invisible line down the young girls cheek, "I still haven't repaid you for those Van, but I will. . ." The pressure of the blade on Van's neck increased, and he let out a small gasp. Celena raised her head and stared at the young king beneath her, wicked grin growing on her face. Then her right eye began to twitch, her grin slowly fade, and her grip on the blade begin to loosen.



Van knew that he should take this opportunity to escape the girls grip, but he could not move, some sick curiosity held him in place. A scream then erupted from the girl on his chest, a primal wail which rang through a person's skull and sent shivers down the spine. The knife skittered across the floor, as Celena threw herself off of Van, crawling away across the floor like a frightened animal, to curl her arms protectively around herself in a far corner of the large room.



The entire gathering was silent, unmoving, staring at the crumpled form in the shadows, trembling and sobbing to herself. Allen was the first to break out of his trance, rushing to his fallen sister, kneeling beside her and cradling her gently in his strong arms. Her weeping seemed to grow worse at his touch, as she clung to his uniformed chest while he murmured soothing noises into her hair. He stood up with her still in his arms and turned back to his guests, decidedly more unsettled than they had been previously. Millerna and Dryden had helped Van to his feet, and the Fanelian king was now leaning against the table on which rested the disheveled mess that had once been their dinner. Millerna was in hysterics, enfolded in her husband's robes as he hugged her shaking body close to him. Van was staring blindly into space as he rubbed a hand across his neck, over the thin red scrape adoring it. Allen approached his company, keeping a distance proper for one holding a king's attacker in their arms,



"Van. . ." He said quietly. The young man's eyes snapped into focus, turning to rest on the tall knight's face. The anxiety and fear were evident on Allen's angelic features, and his voice held so much anguish, "Van, are you alright? I'm so sorry, I have no idea what happened, she's never done anything like this before. . .I'm so sorry Van." The sable haired youth raised his hand from his neck to his temple, massaging it gently. He shook his head,



"That wasn't her, Allen, that was him."



Well, dinner at the Schezar house. . . okay, anyone who didn't see that coming, raise your hand. All of you with hands in the air, I'm afraid I'm going to ask you to leave. Oh, I'm just joking *^_~* What about Celena then? All kinds of crazy, ne? Anyway, please review! I know I haven't written in a while, and I try my best not to beg for reviews, it's not my cup of tea, but I really need some encouragement. Oh, and all of you who also follow Open Road, new chapter almost done, it will probably be out before the middle of the week. Ok, I think that's all for now,



Ta all