The waiting was beginning to slowly kill Dilandau. At least that's how it felt to him. He rubbed his shoulders slightly, to get warmth back into them, and listened to the speech around him.
Zongi was turned toward the audience, "… I thank you for your kind words." he was saying ruefully, "But I fear I don't deserve them."
Ravi was grinning, "No, you've defended my friend really well. I think we all owe you something." he said.
Zongi looked pleased, a strange expression for his face, "Perhaps you won't think so after the jury comes back, but it's nice of you to say, anyway." He said.
Dilandau turned, a smile blooming on his face, yet only slightly, "Whatever the outcome, Zongi, failure can only be blamed on me. You fought as well as you could. If I lose, it's my fault."
Zongi returned him an uncertain look, a sad one.
Dilandau chose to ignore that.
I go to prayer-
Along a darkened corridor of woe
And down a stair
In every step of which I am abased.
I wear a halter-rope about the waist.
I bear a candle end put out with haste.
For such as I there is reserved a crypt
The from its stony arches having dripped
>Has stony pavement in a slime of mould.
There I will throw me down an unconsoled
And utter loss,
And spread out in the figure of a cross.-
Oh, if religion's not to be my fate
I must be spoken to and told
Before too late!
Robert Frost-"To Prayer I Think I Go"
Life, a slight life, had occupied the courtroom. It was strange for Dilandau to look about the room and see the movement of former statues, activity from the ranks of those who hated him, and the conversations between the living and the dead. He himself felt a tugging, a need to go and see his mother. Perhaps, he thought, it would be the very last time.
His mother's eyes were sad and deep and she held him gently, as if he was still a child. He felt her tears on his cheeks.
"I won't…" he said, but stopped himself from making a promise he may not keep.
"You won't forget." she said, "I don't believe you could. You won't leave me behind…" she said, her hand on her heart, "No more than I left you behind all those years ago… No." she lowered her eyes, a rueful smile playing about her lips, "No matter what happens, no matter when I see you again…" she stopped, her smile vanished, replaced by a mask of fear and pain. She covered her eyes and began to sob, sitting down hard on the bench.
Allen put a hand on her back, looking at Dilandau with worried eyes.
Dilandau lowered his eyes, "I'm sorry."
"Don't be." Allen said, "Relax."
He smiled ruefully, "You think I can?" he said.
"No." Allen said, "But it's a good thing to try."
Dilandau smiled, and looked away, seeing that King Dryden was regarding him rather intently. He stood and walked over to him, bowing slightly, "My King." he said stiffly, taking a seat.
"Oh, do away with all that." Dryden said quickly, "This is amazing…" and his voice was a scholar's voice, but abruptly his expression changed, "Are you all right?" hurriedly he added, "I mean, as good as could be expected?"
Millerna elbowed him, "Honestly." she muttered, "Pay no mind to him." she said, her eyes filled with sympathy, "How are you doing?"
Dilandau flashed a quick smile at Dryden, "As good as could be expected." he said.
Dryden knew better than to lord this over his wife, so he instead focused his gaze on Dilandau, "What IS all this?" he asked.
"Your guess is as good as mine." Dilandau said.
"When those cloaked men brought us here, they never said that you'd be…" Millerna said softly.
"In peril?" Dilandau said, "No, that's not how they operate." his chuckle was humorless.
Dryden's eyes were worried, but they still had that scholar's glint in them. Dilandau could tell he was dying to talk more about this dream, so he turned away, paid attention to something else.
Van had moved, he was now seated behind Folken. Dilandau could hear them quite well from where he sat.
Van spoke softly, "Brother?" he asked, his voice more childlike than he meant it to sound.
Folken did not respond.
Van sighed lightly, "You know…" he said after a moment, "…I prayed to every God I knew of that I'd someday have a chance to talk to you again…" Van said, and then sighed deeply, sadly, "…just one more time." his unspoken words were 'and I never expected it to be like this…'
Folken turned halfway, training one eye on his younger brother, "Whatever God you believe in," he finally said, "is unnaturally kind." his voice came out as a sigh, and he smiled faintly.
Van, heartened by the words, the attention, spoke in a somewhat choked voice, "I asked you then… if you had forgiven me."
Folken turned to look at him with deep eyes, and opened his mouth as if to say something. He got a very distant look in his eyes, he was listening to something… Then, "No. I can't let this slip through my fingers." he mumbled under his breath, and he stood, still staring at his strangely old younger brother.
Dilandau almost turned away, embarrassed by the fact that he was intruding on a very personal moment, but… Folken's robes began to stretch, and he closed his eyes. With the grunt of someone using long unused muscles, Wings burst through the robe that Folken wore, which faded from view before it hit the ground. A warm breeze brushed Dilandau's cheek, along with a soft something that Dilandau had grabbed before he realized what it was.
Folken's feather was white and pearly, it shone in the strange-dream light, but seemed so very real…
"Do you know…" Folken said lightly, turning and stretching one wing with an expression that was a mix between soreness and happiness, "…they were white again as soon as I got here." he seemed contemplative, and then he refocused on his brother, "The question, brother, is whether you forgive me." and his voice was sad.
Van brushed the tears out of his eyes, "Oh, aniue… Of course. Always." he said.
Folken smiled, and for one shining moment everything was the same for the two of them.
Dilandau envied them, despite the fact that Folken was his enemy. As he watched Folken's beautiful white feathers fly apart and make a cloudy tour of the room and fade away, he envied them their normalcy, their… utter… everything. But that thought faded away, almost with the last of the feathers as the impact of what could happen hit him. He could never ever see his mother, his family, his friends… ever again.
He envied the two of them their closure, something that he was perilously close to losing. His self-hatred would lose for him the future that his mother had given him. Was that fair? No. It wasn't fair to anyone, but if there was one thing that both of his lives had taught him the same it was that life was not fair. Not in the slightest.
He turned back to his mother, his eyes warm and sad with the import of what he had just been thinking about. He couldn't leave his mother empty-handed.
She smiled at him, though her eyes were puffy, "Don't give up hope, Dilandau."
Dilandau looked away, "Mother. Uncle Allen…" he turned to look down the row, speaking loudly, "Ravi…" he smiled vaguely, "Uncle Van. Queen Millerna, King Dryden… I just want you all to know…" and he looked at his mother, her eyes were peeking out from between her hands, "That I love you all. If anything…" his throat caught, "…happens to me this night… It wasn't your fault. And you'll be… better off without me, if it does happen." He said this, but his heart was telling him no. That he couldn't just let this go, that he had to keep fighting. If he wasn't supposed to go on, if he wasn't fated to live out a normal life, then why did whatever God that existed allow him this 18 year's sweet taste of what life could be like?
Even through everything he had done, through everything that had happened, it was a sweet taste of life. And it was too short.
The others he had spoken to didn't answer him, merely stared at him with large, sad eyes.
And then the doors opened.
"The jury has reached their verdict. Please be seated again." the Judge said.
Dilandau went back to his seat, trembling.
The jury filed in, determined, proud. Some women, some children even. Soldiers numbered most of all. They were silent and their eyes were lowered, perhaps in reverence. After what seemed like eternities, they finished and sat.
"Jury, what is the verdict?" the Judge asked.
The foreman stood, he was that man who died under Dilandau's dagger in his own garden those many years ago. Still young, sandy brown hair akimbo as it was when he lie in the sand. His eyes weren't glassy, though, his tunic was clean. He stared at Dilandau impassively, and Dilandau waited for the blow to fall.
"We the jury…" he said, drawing out his words it seemed to Dilandau, "…find the defendant…"
Dilandau held his breath without realizing it, his eyes were closed, he felt nothing, tasted nothing, his world was nothing but the brushing sounds of silence between the preamble and the sentence.
"…Not guilty."
The room exploded into cheers.
Author's note: The end got a little bit of a strange writing style, because I was reading journal entries from my best friend. I gave Folken and Van a little closure, which I didn't realize would lead to closure for Van. I'm going to the State Fair tomorrow, and I have to work. I'd better get to bed, neh? I love you all, and you all knew that this was the verdict. Don't stop reading now, OK, the real surprises are coming next time. And I've been waiting so long to write them. I hope that you're still sufficiently surprised by it. I'm not sure if I'll want to release the next few chapters all at once… So keep your eyes open.
Deep fried Reviews!
one_mean_rabbit: Sorry, I'm not sure what you mean by dwindling… Thanks for reading, though…
Feye Morgan: YAYS! Computer lab! I picked the poem like a million years ago… This one I picked a long time ago, too. These chapters are the ones I knew I'd write from the beginning… I gives you a nice Folken in this chapter. And who said that he was controlled? (twiddles fingers) (whistles Folkeny tune) Nope, no section on the jury. I try hard with those madoushi. (sighs) And you're too nice. I know that when I write chapters at 3 am and just try to finish them, they're not as good.
Etowato: I'll quality you! Like I said to Feye-Feye, if I write it at 3 am, it's not as good! Thanks for pointing out the error. I'll fix it, I swear… And I did like writing the part where Dilandau talked about his suicide wishes. It was so very fitting. ^_^ I want to go and reread all my chapters!!! But I have to go to work! (sad) And I'll make it good. I hope it's not too dumb… (slightly worried)