Allen, of course, questioned Celena's pallor and her tendancy to yawn throughout the morning, but the day before had been spent shopping and packing, and she convinced him those were the causes. Despite the reassurance, he was quick to notice the way her eyes glazed over at breakfast and the way she jumped whenever someone spoke to her. It crossed his mind to convince her not to go at the very last minute. He turned to her as they were walking to the carriage.
Celena folded her arms and frowned. "Don't even start."
Gaddes leaned to one side and smirked from the driver's seat. "Gotcha before you even opened your mouth, boss."
Allen sighed and entered. Celena followed soon afterwards and sat across from him. Gaddes barked at the horses, the crack of a whip followed and they were on their way. Allen reached over and took his sister's hand.
"Are you completely certain you feel all right?" he asked, gazing worriedly into her bag-heavy eyes.
"Just anxious." She waved her free hand at him, nonchalant. "All the excitement kept me awake last night." A smile blossomed on her pretty face.
There was no doubt Allen disbelieved her, but there was also no gain in telling him the truth. Without letting him get another word regarding the matter, Celena began firing enthusiastic questions about this, that, and everything having to do with the upcoming ceremonies. The trip would not take very long, perhaps a few hours through the countryside, parts of Pallas, and to the palace, and she would not let him for an instant think of turning the carriage around and dumping her back at the family estate.
While she faked listening to her brother's descriptions of various figures of the royal court, she forcefully crammed down another rising throng of memories. It had taken the better part of the night before to regain her composure. Whereas before she'd had some scattered remanents of what remained of Dilandau (her eating habits, her sword skills), as well as those repeated terrifying experiences in her dreams, she'd never felt fully connected with him. It was if she'd been a forced witness, but never a participant. Now she was being filled to the brim and beyond with every sensation, visualization, and psychological turnings that had ever occured to the body that had once been hers, and hers alone.
And now she was losing sight of where Dilandau ended and Celena began.
Despite the overbearing headache, she discovered an eerie calm to her consciousness, as if penting up those memories had been perpetuating her Sickness. Her prime difficulty was an utter sense of disorientation. A whirlwind of visuals and emotions ran across her mind's eye, all clamoring for attention at once. Several early morning hours passed while she lay, gritting her teeth and clutching her legs to her chest, forcing herself to bear through the onslaught. Dilandau was determined to prevent his obliteration, even if it meant driving her insane. He'd forgotten, however, that through the years, Celena had managed to survive even if buried, and her resolve had strengthened since she became the dominant personality. Daylight had colored the skies by the time she'd emerged victorious, and she realized that her time spent sleeping had been sorrowfully brief.
"...Although sometimes he occassionally drops by to give Princess Millerna a present or two. It's quite remarkable sometimes the items Dryden brings from those... far away... lands..." Allen trailed off when he noticed Celena's blank expression. She made a perfunctory nod at the end of his sentence. Frowning, he snapped his fingers in front of her eyes.
Celena blinked at him. One instinct told her to slap the insolent dolt. The other froze, startled that she would even think of doing so. She apologized and forced out a yawn.
"Sorry, Allen," she murmured. "I must be more tired than I thought. Do you mind if I take a nap? Things will probably be very busy at the palace."
"Certainly, Celena." Allen smiled. "You'll need your energy."
Allen watched as Celena nestled down in the cushioned seat. She threw him an affectionate smile before closing her eyes. He clasped gloved hands together, reflecting on how her hand had twitched in her lap, and the uncharacteristic irritation that had flashed across her face. A frown creased his lips. She was hiding something again, and it was more than some little mishap the night before. Confronting her directly could possibly be disasterous, especially if her sanity was at sake. The courier who had delivered his invitation had mentioned an invitation was also being sent to Zaibach. Allen only hoped that a Madoushi or two would be sent along with the usual pack of politicians and military figures.
Celena felt her brother's eyes drive into her. The scrutinization was almost unbearable, but she knew that her brother wasn't fooled by any of her explanations (not to mention her "nap"). But she knew, without a doubt, that Allen would do what was best, especially since her own abilities to determine up from down was severely crippled. Regardless of all the confusion, one driving urge kept her determined to make it through this trip.
She (he) absolutely had to see Van.
[ ...end part I ]