Chapter 8
Dedicated to: Alia, coke/amy-chan, Haeru, Rai Dorian, Josh, chimei-nakidasu and Asmathamus
Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne or any of its characters.
Since this girl Deré appeared on the Vione, Dilandau-sama just hasn't been the same. He's not as sharp, not as strict; there's even a tint of suppressed kindness in his features. Even though this may seem as a positive effect, it has let his guard down in a very risky way. He's become less picky with us, more patient with Celena, and his arguments with Lord Folken have ceased to exist. You could say he's become soft. Except, this change is putting him in great danger with his many enemies on and off of the battlefield. The girl is not aware, but Dilandau-sama's mind is not to be tampered with. His internal self is very fragile; no one understands that better than we do.
The strong barrier he has cautiously constructed around his mind is something that he cannot lose. There are rumors of Generals seeking to take his place. This would be their chance, because to them Dilandau-sama is only a mere boy, one who is not fit to command an army. This would be their time to attack, while he has a weak point. They will attack. It has already started, that day, if Celena had not been watching his back, who knows what would have happened. The battle had been over, we had already won, but someone was out to kill him, someone, a traitor by the name of General Adelphis. That is why we hate this girl; she is doing something to our beloved Lord, something that we cannot tolerate, because we cannot bear to see him hurt.
Chesta and Miguel peered anxiously out the window of the transport ship, watching and waiting as the sun slowly descended over the horizon followed by the ascending of the moon. It was night now and Dilandau-sama and Celena had been gone for exactly 0:41:23 minutes. They should have been back half an hour ago, having promised to return in five to ten minutes. The two dragonslayers had spent the time thinking of their commander.
They were worried about him, about him and the girl Deré. She was an outsider; she didn't belong. She was becoming a problem and they could see it clearly. She was his weak point. Dilandau-sama was not supposed to develop any weak points; he was not supposed to have any compassionate feelings. That was what made him all powerful. She's ruining him.
Chesta paced about nervously, "Miguel, do you think we should go search for them?" Being the more caring of the two, Chesta wanted to go find his Lord; except Dilandau-sama had ordered them to stay put.
The two slayers were just about dying with anxiety when Folken's voice was heard through the communications device, "You were due hours ago, where is Dilandau?"
Miguel was the one who replied, "Lord Folken, they've been gone for a while now and haven't returned yet."
Folken paused before answering, "I will be taking the Vione near the city. Stay where you are until Dilandau returns."
Chesta and Miguel exchanged glances, at least now they didn't have to debate over a search or not.
"Yes Lord Folken," the slayers replied in unison. They walked towards the window once more and saw a hazy mist glide over the city.
***
What might those two be doing, they should have been back hours ago. It is not good to stay in Gallardias. Word travels fast in this city; soon we will have unwanted company chasing our backs. Folken walked towards the balcony of the library, welcoming the feeling of the night air, cool and refreshing against his skin. The stars twinkled brightly as a breezy wind swept through his hair. Gently reaching into his pocket, he took out a card.
It was covered with silver glitter and black feathers; how appropriate. He knew that Celena had feelings for him; he had always known. You used to be so shy, so quiet and subtle with that sweet smile lingering on your lips. In the beginning, whenever our eyes had met, you would nod politely and smile. But as time passed, you began to seek something; with your head held high and your eyes full of determination you searched for something in my burgundy gaze; a trace, an indication, a clue. Anything that showed I loved you too. But there never was; I would never allow it.
Even though in my heart I knew that I felt something for you, it was just unacceptable. It wasn't right. In a sense, I was the one who created you; I love you, that is for sure, but what kind of love is it? For some reason, it feels more like a fatherly type of love than the kind between a man and a woman. Do I even deserve you? You, who is so pure and untouched, as innocent as a rose. Realistically speaking, you had been reborn only two years ago. There is spite and wit, but you're still just a child, at least to me.
How can I love someone when I am so tainted? Love is for other people, good people, righteous people; not someone as sinful as myself. You deserves better. I am unworthy. You try so hard to please me; there are more than enough hints given as to what you want me to do. I understand more than you think I do. I want to make you laugh, make you happy, but is it alright? Is it the right thing to do? The answers to these questions are beyond importance, it is crucial to know! I cannot bear to see you sad, but even more so, I could never forgive myself for ruining your life. Before you come too close and fall into the pit of darkness that is me, I will do anything to save you and protect you. I will not let you waste yourself on me.
Lord Folken,
I have something I need to say. Meet me
in my room on the night of the full moon, I have
something important to tell you.
Celena
***
The moon was lovely, as silver as her hair. It hung proudly against the black dreary sky. There were only a few more days until he would have to go meet her. Without reason, he felt like flying, flying to the moon. It had been so long since he had stretched those tarnished wings. They were his shame, his mark as a demon. Slowly, he removed the heavy cloak that concealed his slim form. The lustrous metal of his right arm glistened in the moonlight as he undid the ivory buttons of his doublet. It felt crisp and fresh; the tight-fitting leather had become a second skin and it was nice to feel the moist air touch his skin, setting him freeing.
Then, with a tearing convulsion, the blackness escaped. Feathers burst in all directions as a pair of night-black wings appeared. He gripped the railing and lurched forward as the blast of pain passed. When the calm and collectedness returned, he looked down to see the city of Gallardias.
Little houses slept dreaming in a blanket of fog. How beautiful it looked, like a picture from a story book. But as the mist parted, Folken noticed that there were people on the street, very familiar looking people that happened to be Dilandau and Celena. Except, they were huddled around something, something that Dilandau held in his arms. There was also a blond female standing off to the side, with a sword in her hand. Suddenly, Folken understood; it was Deré. He instantly spread his wings and embraced the night. Like a falling angel, he dived to rescue the girl.
***
I watch with tears in my eyes. There is nothing I can do, Aleister is off somewhere, he will go into hiding, too ashamed to show his scared face. But Deré, even though you're my best friend and I love you, I can't forgive you for what you did. And what you have done again; the pain you have caused and the pain you will cause again. I wish for you to die and I wish for you to live. Venice, my love, he is gone. My brother, he is not the same. You, you left, you abandoned me and you're doing it again. I knew this would happen, and I guess in a way it's not your fault. But I hate you anyways. You have found the ones who will care for you now, the ones who will love you. These people who will risk their lives for you, they are something. I will leave now, as strangely, I feel out of place. Goodbye my friend, and may you find happiness in the future. With a light movement of her fingers against her lips, Margaret kissed the night and her friend goodbye.
***
Tap, tap. His boots against the cold, grey floor—tap, tap. As he neared her room—tap, tap. As he knocked gently on the door—tap, tap. As he waited with little patience—tap, tap. As he didn't care anymore and rushed into the room—silence. To see her standing there, to see her looking like that; to see her face like that, her body like that. To hurt inside, to suffer and hurt inside, because he did that; he made her like that.
"Dilandau-sama . . ." Her soft, quiet voice, slightly stale, greeted his entry. Her voice; he felt the blood pounding in his arteries and his muscles tense. But no longer did she emit that conforming clemency, no, a foreign note hit him. Slightly lost, he tried to determine exactly what it was, but after several minutes of staring at her and figuring out nothing, he turned away. I will not look at her, or those placid blue eyes that have something strange shining in them. I can't look at them.
"We will be leaving tomorrow night. You don't have to prepare anything, just be ready by 10:00." He said this in a cold and distant tone, as if addressing a miscellaneous servant, any old servant. Only, she was not just his servant, not anymore.
He had left in such a hurry, he didn't even wait for my reply. She frowned, remember what he had done to her. A fragment of rage shot through her, causing her eyes to burn, but it quickly faded as she also remembered who she was, and who he was. He is Dilandau-sama, she thought miserably, who am I to blame him for anything he has done. Who am I to cause him pain, more pain than he already has. I have been ungrateful . . . A sudden fit of coughs ceased her thoughts, making her shiver and tremble while reaching for the bedpost. Deré shook her head sadly in mental defeat before crawling weakly into bed.
She had just moved back to her room this afternoon, finally able to convince Folken that she was well enough for the transfer. But really she wasn't; it had taken a lot out of her delicate state. With the fever only beginning to reside, and the wounds only somewhat healed, she had immediately caught a cold. Laying her head gently on the soft feathery pillow, she fell into a peaceful slumber under three layers of blankets.
***
It would be time to leave soon, as her clock read 9:45. She observed her reflection in the mirror: rosy cheeks and a red nose, a wooly hat on her head and a thick scarf around her neck; a heavy, warm jacket fell to her knees, light pink mittens covered her hands and a pair of soft, leather boots occupied her feet. Deré had searched throughout her closet for a pair of pants, but found none. Dilandau-sama had only given her skirts, really short skirts. But it was too cold to wear skirts now, especially when she had a cold. She decided to ask Celena to borrow a pair of pants.
The corridors of the Vione were getting chilly with the shifting of seasons from fall to winter. Soon, it would be snowing. Glancing out a window, Deré stopped to admire the full moon. It was so pretty, sleeping amidst shades of black. The silver sphere hung still in the sky, emanating a mystifying radiance. It captured her gaze, luring her, tempting her. It reminded her of something, of someone. Alone in the sky, surrounded by miniscule twinkles of light, with no one to confide in, was the moon silver moon. It's mighty. It's cold. It's far away. The moon, I love it but I can never grow close to it, as with Dilandau-sama. She suppressed a surge of anger by remembering the time. Prying her eyes away from the glowing orb, Deré hurried off to Celena's quarters.
***
"Folken, please, listen to me, let me explain to you." The girl begged him, her eyes tearing, to understand. She wanted, wished so much for him to understand. There was a volcano of emotion bursting from her heart, her soul, her whole being. She had waited forever for him, to realize and do something. But he was so stubborn, so obstinate, he couldn't express his feelings. Always hiding behind that mask, that damned mask that was killing him. He needs to be free. And she wanted to be the one to free him, but he wouldn't give her the chance!
Grazing her lips gently with his thumb while the rest of his hand lay against her cheek, he spoke in that monotonous voice, "Let it go, it cannot be."
There had been a slight crack at the end of that sentence, a temporary loss of control, but that was all. These small incidents where he slipped were the only things giving her hope; hope that he did feel something for her. "NO! It *can* be! It can because I love you!"
The salty water spilled and trailed down now, down her beautiful face. Sea blue eyes clouded and shut tight. "I love you, I always loved you. I thought you knew."
She placed a hand to her mouth, choking on the tears that flowed from an endless reservoir. It was like trying to calm a storm, her small frame shook as she cried harder. It had taken her so long, so terribly long to find the will and courage to say to him those three simple words. It meant so much for him to know how she felt.
Ever since she was separated from Dilandau, there had always been a great attraction towards Folken. She didn't know why but all she wanted was to be with him. Except, he's always pushing her away and shunning himself from his true feelings. He didn't even react when she told him! It had been so hard to tell him, and when she had finally uttered those tormenting words, he had said nothing! Nothing! It made her mad, really mad. Even now, he remained silent, just looking at her. There was a tiny glisten in the corner of his eyes, but he blinked and it was gone. She couldn't help it anymore, she slapped him; she slapped him hard across the face, the force jerking his head to the side and leaving a bright red mark where her hand had been. Still, he remained silent, there was a hurricane tearing his insides out but still, he remained silent.
"WHY DON'T YOU SAY SOMETHING?!" She was about to hit him again when he caught her by the wrist. It was so fragile; the bone and flesh of her wrist felt brittle in his grip, as if it would break with the slightest pressure. Finally, realizing that nature was untamable, he let it out. His burgundy eyes were wild with long suppressed passion as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. He kissed her to say sorry, to say don't cry anymore, to say I'm here now, to say everything that he wanted to say so badly, but most of all, to say I love you.
Deré closed the door silently. She had just witness something very traumatizing, something that was private and personal. Celena and Lord Folken? She never would have guessed. There had never been any evidence or signs of their relationship. They never mentioned one another or talked much together. It was just so shocking. And it had been so sad, poor Celena; the girl must have been agonizing over this for so long. Lord Folken too. She was glad that they had finally expressed themselves and that everything would be fine now. But she felt guilty, guilty for intruding upon their privacy. Even though it had been an accident, she should have left right away; expect she couldn't because it reminded her somewhat of her own conflictive relationship. But her trail of thought was interrupted as an irritated voice was calling for her, "DERÉ! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?! IT'S F***ING 10:05!"
O4o86*~