Disclaimer: ManKin and Card Captor Sakura are not mine; they're Hiroyuki Takei's and CLAMP's, respectively. Rune, Rione, Millie, Lavi, Eah etc original characters are mine. Also, I seem to have come out more or less intact from the mobbing I got dragged into during the last chapter. Ow, Setsumi-san can sure do some damage when she's inspired to do so. That axe hurts; Jess-chan's orange rubber ducky even more so. And I think it was Kitsune who whacked me with the whole raw bangus. Said shoulder is still numb, not to mention it smells like dead fish. Someone even sent the Spirit of Flame after me; Hao sure is helpful when he isn't needed to be so. But it was the apple pie that finished me. I don't like apples very much (but I like your work a lot, Apple-chan, please don't get angry at me ^_^).
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Previously, on "The Romancers"...
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Jeanne-chan gets a long-deserved vacation courtesy Rione. The X-Laws' dilemma: Without or without the Iron Maiden, their world or a new one? Eriol is his usual self, but Tomoyo is much more than herself. And the impossibility: Rune standing up for Marco. A choice is made: Lyserg and company are coming for the rescue.
But does Jeanne need rescuing?
This is dedicated to my brother Earl (writer identity Earl Osborne), who just recently got the shock of his life when Fluff Inc wondered if his representation in this story –Eah Osborn– is paired up with Lavi. No, Jess-chan, unfortunately Lavi and Eah aren't the pairing I plan, however cute it seems. No, Earl, you can't go after Fluffychan's head, she's a very good reviewer and friend of mine. I said, no. Bad Earl. Shame on you. No more editing for your story, sige ka…
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The Romancers
Set One: Shaman King
By: Sheo Darren
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Iron Maiden and Dowser Knight
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Chapter Ten: Second Thoughts, Last Regrets
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(a.k.a. The Fluff Inc Special)
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"Heto na!"
Jeanne watched the volleyball arc into the air and then fall down towards her. Putting her hands together just as she had been taught, gauging the time she had to act, she struck upwards with all her might.
She missed.
The volleyball bounced once on the sand and settled down.
"Ayos! Point for me!"
Waving her fist triumphantly in the air, Rione was throwing a miniature celebration at her scoring run. Jeanne just had to grin back.
"I'll get you for that."
The sun was up and shining, but the day wasn't hot, not hostilely so despite the lack of cloud cover. More like warm, enough to start one perspiring, but not too badly such that people would need a really good shower afterward. All in all it was a perfect day to go play some volleyball, which Rione had 'tricked' Jeanne into trying just for fun's sake.
The scoreboard right now was Romancer 9, Iron Maiden 0, but Jeanne didn't mind. She didn't like losing and wasn't the most athletic of people –wasn't even a shadow of athletic, actually– but that didn't matter much to her. Right now she was having fun, enjoying herself silly, and so was Rione. This wasn't a life-or-death battle, just an affable competition between two friends.
Besides, it was a 'first to twenty' match. She theoretically could still catch up.
But there was a catch, too.
Five minutes later…
After a massive landslide loss on the margin of twenty to zero, Jeanne submitted herself to the agreed punishment for the loser: Ten minutes of being buried in the sand. Rione showed remarkable energy in digging out the shallow hole for Jeanne to lie in and then covered the latter completely with the same sand she had quarried. Once done, the Filipina grinned over her handiwork. Jeanne looked like she was a small mound of sand with the head and feet of a pretty girl sticking out at opposite sides.
"It's not as bad as you think," she very serenely said. "My iron maiden had needles, you know."
Rione pouted. "It's supposed to take the fun out of you, not remind you of worse days."
"Well, it works. Can you get me out of it now?"
Despite her somewhat scatterbrained mindset, Rione had planned well ahead for this excursion. There was an umbrella and recliners, a Coleman cooler laden with ice cold drinks, several cups of delicious strawberry-flavored ice cream and a jar of yummy chocolate chip cookies. The last two foods were favorites of Jeanne, though just how the Romancer had known about them –and the particular stories behind them– she would never know.
"Let's just say I learned of them from a certain fellow Filipina who loves fluff," Rione had joked, ending the matter with her carefree ho-ho grin that was undoubtedly stolen from both Daidouji Tomoyo and Asakura Yoh.
The fair-haired French girl brushed off the sand from her conservative white bathing suit as she got up on her feet. The swimwear was a gift from Rione which Jeanne had with great reluctance accepted and with even greater reluctance worn. Not that she disliked receiving presents. It was just that it was swimwear. No matter how conservative it was, in Marco's eyes it would always be evil.
But swimsuits were part of the tradition at beaches, was the explanation to the worldly-innocent Iron Maiden.
And:
"Besides, I'm sure Lyserg-kun will like it…"
And that was enough to end their argument.
"Cheater," protested Jeanne over a spoonful of strawberry ice cream.
"What? It's true, isn't it?" Rione looked a bit sneakily thoughtful, nibbling at a cookie as she was. "I seem to remember a certain icebreaker game when Lyserg-kun got caught…"
"I have no idea what you are talking about." But she was blushing despite herself, and that gave her away.
"Uy, guilty! Huli ka!"
Jeanne blushed even more. "Oh, will you stop teasing me!"
"Not 'til you admit it! Aminin!"
"Rione! It's not funny!"
"Heh, you mean you'd never dream of it, is that what you mean? Aw, come on, I'm sure–"
But the tease fell short as Rione noticed the way her friend suddenly became very quiet.
"Jeanne?"
"Doshite?"
Why?
"Why do I dream like that?" she asked.
Looking very uncomfortable with the silence, Rione decided that now was the time to do it. "Do you promise to listen to me and consider everything I'm going to say?"
"Yes."
She sighed. "Then here goes…"
* * *
It's been a long day, decided a drowsy Lyserg as he plopped himself on the very soft and comfortable bed, letting the cushions do their simple everyday magic on his tired body. But I think it was worth it.
No.
It was worth it.
Someone knocked at his door, snapping him back into wakefulness.
"Lyserg?" It was Millie. "Can I come in? I'd like to talk with you, if you don't mind."
"Um, sure, come right in." Privately he wondered what it was she wanted to discuss.
Then Lyserg remembered he didn't have a shirt on. He'd taken his uniform off earlier.
Uh, oh.
The door opened.
"Lyserg-kun, I–"
Millie stared at the sight of Lyserg shirtless and lying on his bed looking up at her.
She blushed.
So did Lyserg.
"Get dressed! Lyserg, get dressed! Turn away, Millie, let Lyserg dress!"
That was Haro, bouncing up and down as it chattered endlessly and scolded.
Even as Millie turned away, her face burning in embarrassment, Lyserg was hurriedly grabbing at whatever shirt was handy. The only one handy was the one Vincent had given to him as a joke, the tee shirt with the bold print in front proclaiming I'm so sexy. He stared at it for a moment, shook his head at some people's sense of humor and hurriedly put it on.
"Gomenasai…"
"Uh, no, it's nothing…"
Peeking first over her shoulder to reassure herself that Lyserg was already dressed, Millie sighed in relief and walked over to her friend and confidante.
"Can I sit here?"
"Sure."
Suppressing her blush somewhat successfully, Millie sat down right next to Lyserg, who was regarding her curiously. When she looked at him, she caught sight of the text on his tee shirt.
I'm so sexy?
"Isn't that the same one that Miss Vincent gave you a while back?"
"Right in front of the X-Laws?" He grinned ruefully at the memory. "It's the same one, yeah."
Marco had gone bonkers at Lyserg and Vincent for that gag, not knowing that the poor dowser had nothing to do with it. Vincent had been totally incorrigible and totally without conscience, but Drake had laughed his ass off. Her usual self, Rune did not care. As for Jeanne, she had stared wide-eyed at the shirt and then at Lyserg, a slight blush on her cheeks mirroring the deeper one on his.
Who knows what thoughts and temptations danced inside the Iron Maiden's mind at that time?
What no one had also known or seen back then was how Millie, despite cowering behind Maestro's armored frame due to Marco's volcanic rant, was also deciding to herself, Yeah, he's sexy, all right.
She'd always had a huge crush on him. From the first time they've met and ever since, Millie had been crushing on Lyserg like she'd never done so on anyone before. It was a classic case of poignant puppy love: Girl likes boy who has absolutely no idea she exists, and by the way, he already has someone he likes very much and who likes him a lot, too. There were things to be said for doomed enterprises, a lot more for unrequited love.
It was love she felt for him, a deeply special kind of love.
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She'd been looking for her sister back then, had been told that she was with a group called X-Laws who was fighting evil in the world. She'd worked so hard to find the X-Laws so that she could see her one-san again.
And then Millie learned that Meene had died a short while ago.
She'd cried then, cried so bad to learn her big sister was no longer with them. She'd been so happy looking forward to seeing her again after such a long time. She told herself that she would bring Meene home, that she would persuade her sister that she'd done enough and that it was time to go back to the life she'd left, the life with her. Her efforts were all for nothing in the end.
Perhaps Millie would never amount to anything, not without her beloved sister Meene.
And then Lyserg, that green-haired angel of that moment who was smiling gently at her, told her:
"Don't cry. Meene is in Heaven now. She is happy there. I'm sure she'd like you to be happy, too."
"How do you know?" she had in tears asked him.
"I know it because that's how Meene want everyone to be. She was my friend. She wanted me to be happy despite the end. If she could feel so for a friend, how more could she do so for family she loved?"
She'd stopped crying, then, and looked up at him.
"Try to smile," he coaxed. "Meene told me people looked better when smiling. I only knew the truth of it when she was gone."
And then he was crying, too, but he was smiling as well.
Millie tried to smile. She did.
"See? You look very pretty when you smile."
"Honto ne?"
"Haii."
She smiled. "Arigatou…"
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She loved him, but she'd never been able to tell him how much she did.
Until now.
Lyserg was very surprised when Millie hugged him. What she told him next surprised him even more.
"I love you."
* * *
"Cheers."
"Cheers," echoed three others over the clinking of glass and mug and jug and the lone plastic bottle.
The tradition of the tinkling of glass driving away bad luck or evil spirits is an old one widely known and followed in drinking circles all around the world. But even if it was not really true, demons would surely avoid this particular table like the plague, its occupants ranging from nasty to extremely dangerous on the threat level.
They all had different kinds of drinks. Drake was subsisting on a mug of beer, a habit he'd grown from his time in service with Her Majesty's Royal Marines. For Vincent Granger it was her favorite strong brandy, poured into a shot glass with two or three pieces of ice. Eah Osborn was happily (and noisily) guzzling straight down his second half-liter jug of two-hundred proof Russian vodka. Finally, Lavi –the only non-alcohol imbiber at the table– was sipping ice cold bottled mineral water.
"So, tomorrow is the big day, is it?"
That was Vincent setting the tone of the discussion over this particular drinking session. The ex-mercenary was starting to feel her cups (shot glasses, actually, but the metaphor sticks), and thus was becoming as talkative as Millie's Haro. She raised a glass. "Here's to our getting the Lady Maiden back and to kicking the ass of kidnapper scum."
"Don't drink too much, Vincent," advised Drake. "You'll need your wits about you tomorrow."
But he, as well as Eah and Lavi –the last somewhat reluctantly–, mimicked the American's gesture per tradition and drank it all down.
"Ah, that's done it!" The redhead giggled silly, even as Drake wiped away the froth from his lips. "There's nothing like drinking good drink with friends all around."
"Da, Tovarisch!" happily agreed Eah as he swallowed a whole Vienna sausage hungrily before going back to gulping down vodka. "Pero tama na iyan, inuman na! May pulutan dito, kaya kumpleto na lahat!"
"Right," Lavi commented sarcastically.
"Aw, come on, Lavi-chan." Strong heady drink made Vincent much more receptive and friendly than usual. "Surely you're not as killjoy as some people I know?"
"Of course not: I can be a worse KJ than them all put together."
"You're very funny, Lavi-chan."
"I find the suffix –chan to be demeaning."
"Si Dizzy na ang nagsabi niyan, a," scolded Eah. "Copyright infringement, Nav!"
"Nav?" asked Drake.
"That's his nickname for me," Lavi explained. "I was a former Vanship navigator before I flew with Eah here. The moniker kind of stuck."
"I got called Vincent," the owner of the name butted in, "Because I didn't want to be called Vicky, as in Vicks Vapor Rub or Icky Vicky."
I was thinking more of Victoria's Secret, Drake thought, seeing that his fellow X-Laws was quite well-endowed and sexy, to say the least. But he diplomatically stuffed it back inside his mind. No knowing how the two women –actually, one woman and one teenager girl– at the table would react to such a sexist thought. He was afraid of both of them, and for good reasons.
Thinking badly of women, are you?" came Maestro's telepathic message. "Shame on you," was the psychic admonishment, "Marco will flay you alive."
Drake nearly jumped out of his skin. Damn psychics, he thought angrily.
"I heard that."
"Anything wrong, Drake?" That was Vincent, who was interested to see her comrade-in-arms suddenly look very flustered.
"Uh, nothing, nothing…
"Right," agreed Maestro in everyone's heads except Eah (the last's mind unable to be reached for reasons already explained), having had his fill of sneaky teasing for the moment. Even psychics need to unwind and liked to tease people who deserve it.
"Whatever…"
* * *
Daidouji Sonomi had come up with a lovely idea: Why settle for a swimming pool when the natural version is far better? It was a swimming pool, all right, but it far resembled a miniature lake more in physical appearance, having been extensively planned and modified especially so. As such, it was not only great for swimming in; it was also a nice place to just hang out around, especially at night when the waters shimmered prettily and the fireflies took flight.
Tonight Rune knew where to find the person she was looking for.
Marco was there by himself as he was wont to often. He was watching the pool shush every now and then while the barely discernible hum of its caretaker machinery took the place of the night's insect opera. The restless waters broke up the moon and the lamps' light into shimmering pieces of gold and silver that seemed to float upon its surface as if they were little boats bobbing up and down ocean waves.
Unobtrusively she made her way towards him, coming to stand just to his right a few inches off, gaze focused on the same general direction of Marco's gaze. Strangely enough the X-Law didn't mind her presence as he was wont to, not for this moment.
"It's a nice night, isn't it?" she asked quietly.
"Yes," he agreed.
They didn't talk or act like their companions were used to hearing them do. There was no resentment in their tones or biting sarcasm in their words. For once they talked to each other as normal people would do, albeit they kept their gazes focused ahead and away from each other.
"Pretty," ventured Rune.
"Not bad," Marco allowed, "For an artificial construction."
"Illusions are said to seem better than reality."
"Sometimes, they are better."
"You were always one with a soft side despite yourself, Marco."
"So were you, Rune, unless my memory fails me."
"It didn't. Not this time; not for a long time yet."
The pool seemed to suddenly go still as its systems went into standby mode. The waves stopped. The humming stopped. The broken reflections of the two X-Laws clarified and then became whole.
"Remember the first time we met?"
Was there a faint flicker of a smile on Rune's face?
An answering one for Marco, too?
"Yes."
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It had been more than twenty years ago when they first met. Rune's parents, both Druids, had migrated to Italy in order to help out with the famine back in Ronamorium, which happened to be Marco's hometown.
He had been seven while she was six. They were as different and contrary as oil and water. He was the outcast and public shame of the village. She was the spoiled but darling apple of her family. He was his mother's mistake that everyone wanted to erase and forget, the devil child who saw things that no one else could see. She was the daughter doted upon despite difficulties with her abrasive personality, the girl who breathed and brought life into even the stoniest and dustiest of lands. He was moody and introspective, given to being alone because all else shunned him. She was serenely imperious, headstrong and a reticent rebel because she wanted something else than what she already had.
They had met in the most extraordinarily ordinary of circumstances. Despised by his own folk and spurned from almost all kinds of human interaction, Marco had taken to a solitary existence, fine by everyone including himself. His favorite spot to stay in was by a small pond that everyone else avoided due to the supposed 'curse' around it. A man had committed suicide there, and his ghost was rumored to haunt the place at times during the night. The rumor was true; Marco had met and befriended the ghost himself who told about a story of love and betrayal which lead to his untimely suicide. The ghost was a very pleasant person despite his being undead, which was more than Marco could say for some very alive people he knew.
But right now he was alone, truly alone. No invisible ghosts around him, not even the friendly one.
But not for long…
On that very same day she had arrived at Ronamorium, Rune had taken it upon herself walk around the place she would call home for the length of her 'exile'. She was duly unimpressed with the choking dustiness, the overpowering heat and the hypocritical locals. Here was nothing that she liked or wanted. She longed for her ancestral home back in Ireland, the cool air and rambling fields and friendly redheads, the lush growth and tall trees that were her childhood friends and teachers.
But a Druid was meant to be a protector and caretaker of Nature, there to ensure that the Green World that was their Mother remained healthy and bountiful. If mankind would take care of Nature, then Nature would take care of him. The Druids were those specially chosen of people to lead all others in this all-important and never-ending task.
Ronamorium had treated Nature all too badly; now Nature was lashing back out at the part of humanity who did ill to her. Thus the town was paying the price of their ignorance. The Druids were here to right that wrong.
But Rune was very disappointed, at least until she caught sight of the flower.
It was small and simple and so ordinary that the usual passers-by would never give it even a first glance. But to the young Druidess the sight of that one small plant with the single white flower was like an oasis of water to a man dying of thirst in the desert. She broke into a small smile as she gathered her robes together and walked towards that tiny but shining plant, which seemed to embody in its mere existing that there was hope for this hopeless world.
There was a boy just beside that plant, but he seemed to be staring off at nowhere. Just another 'bright shining example' of the 'wonderful' people of Ronamorium, Rune decided. A lover of Nature at heart, she had no care for most of humanity and so made no note of him, her attention riveted upon that flower.
Surely this boy is of no consequence…
The first indication Marco made that he knew about the presence of another living being nearby was when his eyes flickered towards the dark-haired girl in the deep green robes almost imperceptibly– and rather hostilely. He did not like being disturbed from his private reveries; they were among the few things were left to him as his own. No one had ever dared intrude upon him before, mainly because everyone hated him and kept a good distance away.
But this girl dared…
As Rune approached the flower, the boy stood up and turned to face her. That made her pause. The young girl observed his dirty unkempt state that still somehow failed to degrade the handsomeness of this boy– sort of, somehow. Her slight scowl of disapproval spoke volumes.
Marco knew he wasn't exactly in his best state of affairs. He was dusty and hadn't had a thorough bath for a week, but thanks to the kind-hearted monks at the nearby monastery at least he didn't stink and had relatively clean clothes. But the look in the girl's eyes and her slightly down-turned mouth told him what she thought of him.
Well, two can do that.
The boy's glare was the first such reaction anyone gave to Rune, and she was about to fall back in surprise despite herself. No one had ever even thought of making the slightest angry gesture at her before, she was so respected and coddled and cherished.
This boy dared…
But she was not going to be frightened off. She stood her ground and returned the glare coldly.
Seeing that his usual 'death glare' was not enough to send this intruder off scurrying back to whatever prissy manor she came from, Marco decided a menacing growl was in order:
"Do you know who I am?"
"Obviously, the answer is no," said Rune very calmly, sinking into her most coolly assertive tone. "Otherwise, I'd have surely disciplined you for what right now would have constituted the 'second time around' you've offended me like this."
"Oh, a smart-ass, are you?" He hated that kind of person more than the others, the kind of person who thought she knew everything and was always right all the time. "You're not from here."
"Your observation is correct, thankfully, because I myself wouldn't dream of having anything that bound me to a pathetic place like this."
"You can have it all you want. I don't care about this dump you call a town."
"Oh?" If this is the kind of regional pride the locals have, Rune thought whimsically, then the Italian government have no worries about the province seceding any time soon…
"Yeah. It doesn't care about me at all, so why should I care?" Marco spat aside, an action he found offended this foreigner girl and which he made note to do again later just to piss her off. "Now, get out of here."
Despite her obvious disgust, Rune steeled herself. The image of that flower was fixed crystal clear inside her mind. Besides, this boy dared to command her! No one commands Rune Minor!
"No."
"I said, get out."
"I will not."
"What part of 'Get out' do you not understand?" growled the slowly aroused Marco, who was slowly losing his temper to this absolute blockhead who dared to infuriate him. No one infuriates Marco Innocenzo Testarossa! "The words 'get', 'out', the exclamation mark or any of the individual letters?"
"I understand the idea you want to convey perfectly well." But Rune made no move to move. "But I have no intention to leave."
Marco took on threatening step towards her.
In the first visible sign of losing her cool, Rune's pupils snapped wide, and a gasp slipped from her lips. She rushed forward in alarm, throwing herself at Marco's feet. "Don't move!"
The startled boy looked down at his feet, expecting a snake poised to strike or an open hole into the abyss of Hell he was tethering into. He'd have preferred that, believing death better than life.
Instead, he found only a tiny flower just off his left sandal, which Rune was fussing over.
"You stupid blind idiot!" she raged at him. "You nearly stepped on it!" Then she was cooing towards the flower, reassuring it with her soft words and her gentle aura.
Marco had seen many weird things in his short life. He could see dead people, after all, ghosts of all color and natures. But a person talking to and raising a ruckus over a plant somehow seemed to beat all he'd ever seen before.
"A plant? You're worked up all over a plant?"
"It's Nature, that's what it is!" she returned angrily, glaring.
Suddenly a malevolently wicked urge came to Marco. He broke into a dark smile, the first ever appearance of that infamous smile of his sans the eyeglasses so far off into the future, the sigil that bode of his unpleasant side.
"This is what I think of your 'nature'."
So saying, he trampled the small flower beneath his sandals.
Rune stared in horror at what this boy had done. She shoved him aside and cradled the broken remains of the plant in her hands, flooding it with her healing power, willing it to hold on just long enough so she could save it.
But it was too late. The plant died.
A cold wind swept through the young Druidess, transforming into an insentient sensation whose ice cold claws of darkness finally found purchase upon that innocent heart of hers and turned it towards the shadows. She felt fury like she'd never felt it before, nothing like her childish tantrums, growing up rapidly in that one moment on tragedy.
Rune stood up, green eyes blazing, facing the smirking Marco.
She slapped him.
"Bastard," she hissed.
Marco stood very still.
'Bastard'. The insult echoed repeatedly inside his mind, taunting him, reminding him that he was indeed the bastard child out of wedlock and deserved the name.
But no one said that he had to like it.
And he didn't. Not by a long shot.
When Rune came home that night, her parents and household raised holy hell about how disheveled she was. She would not say what happened to her, she kept to her room and herself that night, her home not feeling like home at all.
When Marco came home, it was to a lashing and verbal abuse from his stepfather who despised him for being who he was. He made no return to his rage and instead spent the night at the monastery, the home that was not his home.
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"What kind of person slaps another person for stepping on a plant?"
"What kind of person starts a fight over a slap?"
"I asked first."
"The kind of person who thinks the one who did that is a total jerk, that's what."
"So, I was a jerk back then?"
She raised a cool eyebrow in reply. "Weren't you?"
"So were you."
"Touch."
His smile finally became visible.
"Verum."
Truth.
* * *
The night wore on all too slowly.
Drake had stopped at two bottles, his personal limit for working nights, and though a bit tipsy was still in full control of his senses. Eah was slugging it out with his sixth bottle but wasn't drunk at all, an amazing thing considering that vodka is perhaps the strongest alcoholic drink in the world, especially the two-hundred proof which was almost 100% alcohol that he was downing like water. Either the Filipino pilot had the constitution of an ox (or dinosaur, more likely), was immune to drunkenness, or ran on alcohol like a car on gasoline.
Lavi was of course completely sober. Eah's attempt to 'spike' her bottle of water had resulted in a bent piece of steel pipe, two broken bottles and a series of sore bumps and headaches whose pain the vodka did excellently in suppressing. The monkey wrench was indestructible, hence its lack of damage.
It was Vincent who was in trouble. She'd gone through a quarter of a bottle already, and thought brandy was not as strong as vodka it was pretty potent in itself. Half a bottle would get most anyone drunk.
The worse part was that she had convinced Eah to 'share' just one shot glass of his vodka with her.
A very bad idea…
The American was now thoroughly soused. As such, she was starting to babble about things that weren't for anyone else's ears.
"Do you remember the time when Lyserg accidentally walked into us when Millie and I were changing clothes in our room?"
"I haven't the slightest idea what you are talking about," tried Drake in an attempt to dissuade his companion from embarrassing herself. He had no idea he was almost exactly quoting Jeanne from earlier.
Vincent wasn't exactly listening, though, and could care more.
"But of course you do! I was screaming bloody murder then and trying to rip off Lyserg-chan's cute little head, wasn't I? And Millie looked like she was going to die from embarrassment, the way she was so red in the face."
The ex-Marine was trying to get rid of the image forming inside his head of a half-undressed Vincent putting a sleeper hold on their poor unlucky boss while Millie was doing her imitation of a cherry fruit in the background. He wasn't succeeding very well, so he simply drank his beer again. He was sure Maestro was laughing his head off or in whatever way the psychic laughed.
"Interesting," commented Maestro; he'd been keeping tab of the discussion. "You can read minds, too, Malloy?"
"Shut up," Drake grumped over his beer.
"Lyserg has always been a ladies' man." Eah cackled as he raised his bottle in salute. "'Yan ang pards ko! Da best!"
Lavi shook her head in disgust.
The motion attracted Vincent's attention. The redhead turned on her.
"So, Lavi-chan–"
"I detest the term Lavi-chan."
"Whatever. So, what's the story on you and Eah?"
"I thought we told you already," the girl fairly snapped, sounding both impatient and bored. "We're freelance courier pilots who fly a tilt-engine plane and deliver luggage and live lobsters all around the world."
"No, no, no; not that. I know that already." There was mischief in Vincent's eyes, a look that Lavi failed to spot in time. "What I mean is, 'Is there anything between you and Eah'?"
"He's my pilot. Eah's crazy, but he's a good pilot. I can't find anyone else who'd fly with me on the kind of missions we get. Only he does, so I'm stuck with him."
"So," said Vincent, delivering her bombshell, "So he's your boyfriend?"
Their reactions were memorable. The innocent Drake, who happened to be sitting across the table, got a face full of icy water. Beside her, Eah choked on his mouthful of vodka as some of the alcohol went up his nose, making him wheeze and cough and double over.
"WHAT?" Lavi fairly screamed, even as Drake wiped away the water from his face.
"Figures," Vincent giggled as she reared back on her chair. "A cockpit isn't exactly the most romantic of places, but I guess it does enough for you."
Blazing with anger, face as red as the annoying X-Laws' hair and fists clenched tight white, Lavi stormed up on her feet. "Just what do you mean by that?"
"I think you know what I mean by that–"
"I AM NOT HIS GIRLFRIEND! I'M A GIRL AND I'M HIS FRIEND BUT I'M NOT HIS GIRLFRIEND!"
Cringing as he was right now, Drake did distantly remember that quote from a Pokemon movie. He decided not to voice out that Misty did have a big crush on Ash, just as Lavi might have for Eah, however absurd that idea was. Some things are better left secret.
"You're in denial, that's what–"
"HE'S MY PILOT! I'M HIS NAVIGATOR!"
"Double-speak for 'fiancé' and 'beloved'," countered Vincent, getting into full taunting swing. "Is 'Nav' an affectionate term, too?"
"WE'RE PROFESSIONAL PARTNERS!"
"You're not too professional right now… but I'd give you the 'partners' thing, if you like."
Lavi was reaching threateningly for her handy-dandy monkey wrench, perfect for deciding arguments like this.
Drake decided to stay out of this particular fight. There are some things a real man does not step into.
"Right," agreed Maestro heartily via psychic message.
"Pahamak ka talaga, Fluffychan!" the somewhat recovered but now 'under the weather' Eah groaned. "I'll get you one day, I swear!"
"It's Fluff Inc," his navigator corrected him even as she glared daggers at Vincent, who along with Drake and Maestro didn't know what they were talking about. "She changed her name already about half a month ago."
"Whatever! Babarilin ko nga iyang asar na iyan!"
"Sheo wouldn't like that. Jess reviews this story very favorably and is a Jeanne-Lyserg fan."
"Wala ako pakeeeeeeeeee!" The volatile Filipino pilot yanked out his AK from his coat, making Drake duck under the table and Vincent wonder if she went too far. "Hindi ako natatakot sa kanya! Magkamatayan na tayong lahat rito!"
Bonk.
No, that was not Lavi who hit him.
"Eyng? What the– ano ito? Pato?"
There was an orange rubber ducky lying on the ground.
Rather, there was a somewhat shapeless orange contraption that vaguely looked like a poor rubber ducky that had been (quote) 'squished, maimed, and continuously pounded against several large stones in the vicinity' (end quote). It was someone's favorite bath toy (quote) 'massacred mercilessly by his own fiancée' (end quote), borrowed expressly for this moment. We all know to whom this belongs.
(Stranded, anyone? Please don't get angry at me for taking so long, Jess. ^_^)
"I think," Drake rather timidly ventured, the usually big bad X-Laws thoroughly freaked out by his drinking companions, "That we'd better call it a night."
"I concur," managed Vincent in a dazed tone before she toppled over in a dead faint from drunkenness.
Thank God for that, he thought.
"Gusto kong magwala!" Eah prepared to fire his gun. "Magkamatayan tayo, Fluff!"
Or maybe not…
In the first time ever described in this fan fiction, Lavi struck out almost effortlessly one-hand style with the monkey wrench. The solid titanium tool connected with the side of Eah's head, freezing him in place. Then he muttered "Korosu Fluff", tipped over and stayed down for the count.
Lavi managed to hoist the pilot over and onto her back in a fireman's carry, grumbling as she did so.
"He's so pathetic that I can never leave him alone for a minute. I always have to be nearby in order to keep an eye on him. Whatever it is that draws me to pathetic men like Claus and Eah, I have no idea in Heaven." She sighed to herself before she glared at Drake and the absent Maestro. "This never happened," Lavi warned, looking quite a bit frightening as she did so.
The man was all too happy to agree, toting the unconscious Vincent over to their appointed room. Next time, he'd not be as quick to agree to a drinking binge like this…
* * *
Their first encounter having ended in disaster, you'd think that they'd have had the common sense to learn the lesson from that debacle: Stay away from each other like the plague. Surely someone logical and in command of their senses such as the two of them would come to that conclusion and adopt it as their guiding philosophy when it came to each other.
But this is Marco and Rune we are talking about.
Day after day, Marco sulked at his usual place. Day after day, Rune walked down that usual path. They would meet, one or the other –usually it was both of them– would remember past issues and grievances with the other (or each other), they would argue and insult each other, and they would almost always end up scuffling, to go back to their respective homes and receive respective reactions from their families.
Almost always, that is, since sometimes they didn't always come to blows whenever they met. Rune was running out of nice robes to wear, such that her mother threatened not to buy her any new ones anymore, much more any clothes at all. Marco didn't mind the beating he received from his stepfather (and occasionally his mother when she felt like it). It was the monks and Father Rasso's long boringly repetitive sermons that were wearing him out.
So, out of common consent –and a testament to their maturity given their respective ages of seven and six–, the two limited their fighting to verbal insults and taunts. It was not as satisfying as punching the offensive miscreant in the nose or pulling her hair (yes, her hair: Marco pulled Rune's hair quite a number of times when they fought; he was just a kid, he didn't know boys shouldn't do that to girls, bad Marco…) but it was gentler on clothes and didn't get beatings or sermons since there was no proof whatsoever of any guilt.
Naturally they ran out of inventive curses soon enough, so their rivalry took on a new phase. They'd pick a topic –such as how Marco's hair looked like a wheat field after a tornado had its run of it, or how Rune's traditional Druidic robes were totally out of fashion– and then argue over it passionately, going over points and counterpoints endlessly, picking at ever nook and cranny they could find in the other's logical armor. It was such that Rune took to researching extensively in her family's vast library and Marco asking for –and receiving, thought not without a few baffled looks from the monks who gave it to him– tutorials on how to read and write and debate.
As the years went by, Rune grew up to be a lovely young woman, slender as a willow but stern as iron, pale as the moon but with a spirit fiery like the sun. For his part Marco didn't do too shabbily, for despite his past life of suffering and privations he turned out to be a good-looking enough lad who –though somewhat given to cool moodiness– could be quite fiery and voluble when provoked. He also took to wearing glasses to correct his eyesight. His first pair of them was from Rune, actually, when she noticed Marco had difficulty in seeing and took her friend over to an ophthalmologist and got corrective spectacles for the first time in his life.
Yes, you read it right.
Nine years saw the evolution from hateful childhood enemies to respectful rivals to distant and yet very close friends.
And for close friends, saying goodbye is always very painful…
.
The pond where they first met had grown into a small glen, as lush with life as surely as their relationship had changed from harsh to distantly friendly. As usual Marco was there mucking to himself, and as usual Rune came up the old dirt path, now verdant green with the famine over thanks to her work.
For a long while they simply stood there and stared at the pond, burdened by their own thoughts and feelings, taking comfort and reassurance in the presence of the other just aside. As usual, it was Rune who broke the silence and spoke first.
"You're leaving."
"Yes. Tomorrow I go to Rome. The old monks and Father Rasso think I have some 'potential'."
"Do you want to be a priest?" she asked quietly.
"I know of nothing else that I can be. I guess I have no choice in that."
"Don't you? Don't we?"
"I don't know," he admitted, the first time he'd done so ever to her.
"I'm leaving too, you now," said Rune all of a sudden. That brought Marco's head up.
"You're going back to Ireland?"
"My mission here's done. I've a new one to begin."
"Never-ending battle, the old ones say."
"Yes."
They could think of nothing else to say for the moment, so they kept quiet. Then Rune took off the ring around her finger.
It was very simple, really, a small globe of deep emerald affixed to a gold band. It didn't look to be centuries old, carefully kept and tended as it was by its bearers, but it was a long-held sign of cherished trust and deep emotional connection of a Druid for her work and for the people she helped. Her mother had given her this as a token of her love for her daughter.
Now Rune would pass it on to another.
At the same time, Marco had pulled out of his clothes a simple silver pendant. It had a small crucifix as its focal point of adornment. This was the first and the only material gift he'd ever received, given to him by the generous-hearted monks when he had first come to the monastery for aid and succor, a reminder of how God works in mysterious ways and how all should keep the faith even in trying circumstances.
Now it would leave Marco's hands and go into another's.
She put her ring in Marco's hand.
He put his pendant into Rune's hand.
There was no formality in the exchange. There was no need for it. Tokens and gestures were enough.
Then, their emotions finally getting the better of them for the first time, they embraced each other tightly.
"Good luck, Marco Innocenzo Testarossa," finally said Rune softly, even smiling the first pleasant smile and shedding the first honest tears she had ever done in her life, calling Marco by his proper full name with respect and affection.
He smiled, too, and did the same for her. "You, too, Rune Minor. You, too."
And then they left, never to see each other again for a lifetime…
.
The moonlight fell glistening upon an emerald gemstone and a silver cross.
"Fancy you still wear it."
"You as well, too."
"First thing that told me that was you on the other side, actually."
"Oh?"
"If you hadn't noticed, my ring has a rather detectable and familiar aura."
"The Druids and their adornments." He would have said toys, but that was disrespectful. Then he smiled. "Do you know how much trouble this ring had done for us? How many good ambushes got spoiled because some Shaman would sense its presence and ring the alarm?"
"Spare me. You think it was bad with you, but it was worse for me."
"Hao and the symbols of Christian faith never really got to an agreement?"
"You might say that. Crosses were okay with him–" She should know; Rune amongst other people had started the trend among Hao and company of wearing all-black minister clothes and the suggestive cross insignia. "–But crucifixes somewhat got on his nerve. I think he knew I had yours on, but he didn't say or do anything about it. I'd have cut his hands off if he dared take or touch them."
"And get fed to the Spirit of Flame for your troubles," he dryly finished the thought for her.
"And the Iron Maiden never got on your case for having a Druidic ring on your person?"
"She did. Just once, but once was enough."
"And?" She was curious, even though she knew the answer to her question. That irritated him a bit.
"And I told her it was a gift from a childhood friend from way back."
"And?"
"You're annoying, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"She smiled and laughed at me, saying she'd never had thought I'd have a childhood, let alone a childhood friend who'd give me a mark of her affection."
She pretended offense at that term: "Affection?"
"Her words, not mine."
"Oh? What about your opinion on that?"
"Forget it."
"Fine by me."
But they both knew the answer to that. They'd known it for a lifetime's worth.
* * *
"I love you."
Lyserg lay very still and quiet.
Millie was draped over him like the gentle weight of a blanket, her face lightly resting upon his chest, one hand around his back, the other on his side. She smelled of baby roses, sweet, delicate. Her eyes were distant and distracted, lost in thought and feeling, lost in him.
"I love you," she repeated softly. "I do, Lyserg Diethyl."
"Millie…"
"Do you know how much I love you? I love you to death, Lyserg. I truly do."
He couldn't answer or resist despite himself, he couldn't push her away. He wondered if he was betraying Jeanne by this, but found his mind riveted completely on the frail girl who was so close to him, as close to him as the Iron Maiden had ever been, totally enchanted by her voice that now sang out her heart's hidden feelings.
Her face moved up to his, almost as if she wanted to kiss him. Her lips moved slowly, softly, entrancingly.
"But do you know the sad thing about me, Lyserg?" she asked.
He didn't. His beautiful green eyes told her that truth. Her unhappy blue eyes told him that truth.
"You can't love me back."
Then Millie reluctantly let go of Lyserg, the hidden songstress knowing that doing so meant she would forevermore relinquish him to her angelic rival's arms.
And yet she wasn't unhappy about that. No, not at all…
"I hope you know how wonderful it is to have her," she said softly. "Please, Lyserg. Know how much she is to you, and never let her go."
She turned to leave him.
"Millie?"
She looked back at him.
Lyserg smiled tiredly.
"Thank you."
She shyly returned his smile.
And then Millie walked out of her fantasy life with Lyserg Diethyl, never to return.
* * *
"In The Ashes of Eden, James Kirk said once that 'starship captains think they were invincible.' When he was asked why that was so, he sadly and proudly smiled and said, 'They have to be. It's their job.'
"Tell me, Jeanne." Rione Asuka Hunter showed not a trace of amusement or waywardness, she was sad and serious, the tone of a very old and tired soul. "Are you invincible?"
For once she lacked an answer. It was surprising. When there was a crisis or mystery, the X-Laws would always turn to her for advice and commands. She knew everything, it seemed. She had to know everything.
She was the Iron Maiden, after all.
"It's my duty as the Iron Maiden," she finally said. "I must suffer for the good of all."
"When does your duty as Iron Maiden begin and end? Where does your duty to yourself begin and end?"
She couldn't answer. She had no answer to give.
"Ever since you've been a child, you've known that you were special. You were brought up alone and tended in a special way according to your destiny. You were told you were going to be the savior of the world. You were taught that and many other things. You're not like any other child in the world. You were special.
"Even as young as you are, you're far above and ahead of many people in terms of experience and wisdom. You've seen and done many things in your short lifetime that many people couldn't even begin to claim they've done all their lives. You've fought a war like no other, you and a few others, a war with the fate of the world in the balance of things. You won.
"You've been through many things. Many of them you'd rather not have seen. Many of them are sad things. Many of them are hurtful. Many of them are those you'd rather not have done or seen.
"Many of these things, you were the only one left."
Rione did not blink, gazing at Jeanne very sadly. "You're right about one thing, Jeanne. You suffer for the good of all.
"But that doesn't meant you have to suffer for everything."
Silence…
And then Jeanne spoke.
"Porf. Venstar. Denbat. Larch. Cebin."
The silver-haired girl pronounced every name with finality, remembering the X-Laws of old, remembering the bearers of those names and their fates at war's end…
She remembered that they had all died for her.
She remembered that they had died because of her.
They died because of her.
Was that why she had nightmares? Did she blame herself for their deaths? No, not just them, not just the X-Laws: For everyone who had died because of her. Innocents and guilty alike, Shamans and normal people, even those who followed Hao, she felt their deaths weigh heavily on her.
And she realized that it was what she really was all about.
She realized what the purpose of the Iron Maiden was, why she did not have the power to destroy Hao, why she could only lead and heal, why she could not fight for herself.
The Iron Maiden existed not to destroy Hao or protect Shamans or save the world from destruction.
The Iron Maiden was there to take the sorrows and pains of the world as her own private cross, so that the world could heal from its hurts in peace.
Realize the girl's alive, she heard someone say.
Who said it, she knew not. But the girl meant by that pitying comment was…
It was her.
.
One last name remained: The last, but the first and the greatest.
"Lyserg. Remain innocent and kind, even after this, even after the end…"
"Farewell…"
.
"Meene…"
.
Jeanne could no longer continue. She didn't want to anymore.
She was crying too badly to go on.
"Jeanne."
Rione was hugging her tightly, a protective gesture of support of one friend to another. "It's not your fault," she said softly, comfortingly. "It's not your fault."
And she realized it was true.
And realization was followed by acceptance.
And acceptance brought peace.
Jeanne looked up to her friend and smiled happily despite her tears.
"Thank you, Rione. Thank you very much."
* * *
"Eriol?"
As usual he was in the balcony outside his bedroom windows, quietly musing over past memories and today's events and the promises tomorrow bring. As usual his thoughts had to be broken by custom and necessity. He turned to the call.
A hand holding her long white sleeping gown close around her as she walked barefoot, graceful as a slight midnight breeze, Tomoyo glided over to her fiancé's side.
"Having second thoughts?"
"More like last regrets," answered the rather pensive Eriol.
"Oh? Last regrets?"
"Yes."
They stood there, side by side, looking out at the world around and outside. Hands automatically sought their opposite numbers, grasped them and held on gently, a direct physical link between two people, symbolic of the devotion and dedication they had for each other. Hearts beat as one, soft and tender, faint and infinite.
"Theirs and mine, all the same," he admitted.
"Yes."
.
Drake was very surprised to find out how strong Vincent was, even drunk and sleepy as she was.
She grabbed onto his uniform before he could react, pulled him down onto the bed and plopped her head against his broad chest before losing herself into sleep at last.
The big man rolled his eyes. She could be such a pain in the ass almost all the time, but despite her affected bravado Vincent was in the end just another helpless kitten to be taken care of.
He made as if to stand up, and in unconscious reaction Vincent pulled him back down, punched him several times as if to straighten him out, muttered "Stupid pillow" and went back to her happy dreamland.
So, getting the best out of a bad situation, he simply tried to make himself as comfortable on the bed as he awkwardly could, taking care not to disturb the redhead using him as a pillow as he went so. Drake aimed one quick prayer to Heaven, closed his eyes, and tried to sleep as best as he could.
He saw the slight smile on the corner of her mouth while he did, though, and that kind of scared him.
.
Grumbling at having to exert herself so late in the night, Lavi regarded the sight before her with even greater dismay.
Not only was Eah unconscious as a rock (and not to mention as heavy as one), he was also snoring very audibly. She could have sworn the entire Orca Transport shivered and shook alongside its pilot. Thankfully he seemed totally out of it and was unable to make a further nuisance of himself for this night…
Eah jumped up on his feet, growled "I'm gonna get you, Fluff, omae wo korosu" and then fainted dead away back into sleep.
Needless to say, Lavi was very startled. Or not, considering her partner had been doing this ever since they'd first hitched up together as a team. One of Eah's habits was to participate in his dreams a little bit too much, so much that one wondered how much his real world was separated from the dream world.
Now that was way too Matrix for me. Lavi, you need some sleep.
Eah snored.
"Oh, put a lid on it," she growled at him out of sheer aggravation.
Surprisingly, Eah did just that. His snore toned down to quiet levels. Lavi stared at him, wondering suspiciously if he was really awake and teasing her.
Just what it is that attracts me to pathetic idiots like him, I have no idea in Heaven or Hell…
And then Lavi sighed to herself again before she rearranged the blanket covers on the sleeping pilot and tucked him in tight and comfy in his chair.
"Sweet dreams, Eah," she told him softly before she herself finally rested upon her own bed. "Good night."
Even as she slipped into the drowsiness before sleep, she thought she heard him answer, "'Kaw rin, Nav. Ikaw rin…"
And that made Lavi smile.
.
As she let sleep claim her, one last thought came to Millie. I wonder, she thought, I wonder who he is thinking of now?
She decided she knew who that girl was.
Despite herself, she was happy for him.
And that was perhaps the best thing she'd ever felt in her life.
"Be happy, Lyserg. Be happy for yourself and for her… and for me, too..."
.
"Jeanne," thought Lyserg before he fell asleep.
.
A world away…
"Lyserg," murmured Jeanne in her sleep.
.
Marco fingered the ring she had given him.
Rune touched the crucifix around her neck.
They both smiled faintly.
"It's been a long road," he fairly sang, "Getting from there to here."
"It's been a long time," she agreed, "But our time is finally here."
.
"Do you think they will make it?"
"Do you?"
"Yes."
"Then you know my answer."
"Let's rest, Eriol. We've got a long day ahead of us."
He smiled at her, and she smiled at him.
"Let's, indeed."
* * *
It´s been a long road, getting from there to here.
It´s been a long time, but my time is finally near.
And I can feel the change in the wind right now. Nothing´s in my way.
And they´re not gonna hold me down no more, no they´re not gonna hold me down.
.
Cause I´ve got faith of the heart.
I´m going where my heart will take me.
I´ve got faith to believe. I can do anything.
I´ve got strength of the soul. And no one´s gonna bend or break me.
I can reach any star. I´ve got faith, I´ve got faith, faith of the heart.
.
It´s been a long night. Trying to find my way.
Been through the darkness. Now I finally have my day.
And I will see my dream come alive at last. I will touch the sky.
And they´re not gonna hold me down no more, no they´re not gonna change my mind.
.
Cause I´ve got faith of the heart.
I´m going where my heart will take me.
I´ve got faith to believe. I can do anything.
I´ve got strength of the soul. And no one´s gonna bend or break me.
I can reach any star. I´ve got faith, faith of the heart.
.
I´ve known the wind so cold, and seen the darkest days.
But now the winds I feel, are only winds of change.
I´ve been through the fire and I´ve been through the rain.
But I´ll be fine.
.
Cause I´ve got faith of the heart.
I´m going where my heart will take me.
I´ve got faith to believe. I can do anything.
I´ve got strength of the soul. And no one´s gonna bend or break me.
I can reach any star. I´ve got faith.
.
I´ve got faith of the heart.
I´m going where my heart will take me.
I´ve got strength of the soul. And no one´s gonna bend or break me.
I can reach any star. I´ve got faith, I´ve got faith, faith of the heart.
.
It´s been a long road.
.
.
"It's been a long road," Rione repeated softly. "But I've got faith of the heart, faith to believe I can do anything, strength of the soul that no one can bend or break. I've got faith; I'm going to where my heart will take me. I can reach any star; I've got faith, I've got faith."
She smiled.
"I've got faith of the heart…"
.
Itutuloy…
.
.
Sheo's Notes: And after five days straight (not counting interruptions due to going to my friend's place to watch Naruto and play some Ragnarok Online, going out to watch Hellboy, my brother getting addicted on The Sims and GTA: Vice City, my addiction to Teen Titans and Enterprise, and lots of other trivial stuff) of working on this, I, Sheo Darren, am proud to present the ninth chapter of Iron Maiden and Dowser Knight, titled Second Thoughts, Last Regrets.
(Celebrations are being held in the background.)
This is the longest chapter I've written for this particular story, longer than the first five chapters put together at twenty-one pages. There were just so many things begging to be inserted here: Lyserg-Jeanne (sort of, however distant it seems), Lyserg-Millie (hate to break followers of that pairing, but…), Marco-Rune, Eah-Lavi (more on that later) and Eriol-Tomoyo but in a distant way only. The background to Marco and Rune's cat-and-dog relationship took me a while to formulate and finalize. As for their future as a couple? Let's just say I have a surprise that will rock your worlds.
Disclaimers lang muna: The song Where My Heart Will Take Me is the opening song of the latest Star Trek series Enterprise. It's also the first Trekkie opening to have lyrics. It's a very lovely song despite what some might think, tradition or otherwise.
This particular chapter deserves to be called 'The Fluff Inc Special'. I've mentioned and quoted four (count that!) four fan fiction written by Fluff Inc., the former Fluffychans. They're Strawberry Ice Cream, Chocolate Chip Cookies, Ice Breaker and Stranded. (If there are any others mentioned, tell me.) Also, the Eah-Lavi scenes here are all dedicated to her for that one inquisitive review she'd made. Personal note lang, Jess-chan: It's not really them as a pair; my brother is annoyed that you think so, however cute it seems. He's already got a pairing for Eah. ^-^'
Kudos to Nagumo for her story Exaudi Nos Misrere, for portions and doses of humor I've borrowed and appropriated for my own story's use. When are you updating it?
VERY IMPORTANT FOR MY READERS: I am posting this Wednesday morning or evening, April 28, 2004, Philippine time. For this chapter, I am also going to start a new practice for my fan fiction in heavily trafficked sections. I will post the SAME chapter again in four days after the date the chapter first comes out (that would be Sunday), so that other readers who missed it initially can read the latest chapter even while I'm stuck on the next ones.
Two more chapters to go (maybe three; I don't know... wait, that rhymed), and then… who knows? Even I don't. But what I do know is that I enjoy writing this, and I know and continue hoping that you also do. I'll do my best to keep you guys and myself happy; in turn, I ask that you help me in whatever way you can to keep this story and the approaching sequel just as memorable.
Thanks in advance to all of you. Enjoy ManKin forever.