Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.
With a sigh of relief Isadora backed out of the room after reverencing her queen. Exhausted she fell back against the doors closing her eyes as she rested her head against the wood. She was glad to be released from her duties that morning. There were only a couple hours of dark left and she had not yet been to bed. Almost painfully she pulled herself away from the doors to wearily pace toward the bathhouse. Her once white linen was stained with blood and smelled of strong healing herbs, myrrh, and sweat. She had been tending to the injured all evening, running back and forth between the barracks and the apothecary's home. Not to mention listening and contributing what she could to the conversation between her, Olympus, and Strategos' physician in the queen's chamber. She'd had enough of stitching wounds, and applying bandages to last her a lifetime. But she was pleased that she had helped, though the sight of all the death and wreckage had threatened to throw her into a sickbed as well. Yawning she turned a corner only to be knocked to the ground. She groaned looking up at the figure bending over her.
"Ohhhhh! I'm so sorry! I should've been paying more attention, you know?" Merle gasped. She looked over the woman on the floor with concern. When Isadora only blinked in amazement the girl smiled apologetically, "Here let me help you." She reached for Isadora's arms, and quickly lifted her to her feet.
"Thank you." Isadora said, still a bit disoriented. She managed to give the girl a small smile.
"No, no. Don't. I practically ran through you!" Merle shook her head with a light chuckle, "Again, I'm sorry."
"Really, it's alright. I guess it was my fault too, I feel like I'm walking in my sleep." She rolled her eyes at herself.
Suddenly the young woman squinted her eyes at the Prophetess and said slowly, "You're the queen's maid. I saw you when you arrived the other day, I was watching from the tower… Say, do you know where Lord Folken is?"
"Why, yes," Isadora nodded, "He's resting. In the queen's chamber." She watched the girl with an unexplainable interest.
"Oh," The girl relaxed with a lazy smile, "Good then. I better be off to tell Lord Van then. Nice meetin' ya!" She gave a quick wave and turned on her heel to run back the way she'd come.
"Van?" Isadora's voice stopped the hurried cat-girl. She turned back with a frown.
Cocking her head slightly she put her hands on her hips, "What's your name again?"
"Isadora," She answered quickly, and pressed, "But the prince. He's alright?" Merle studied the look of hope on the handmaiden's face for a moment then looked down at the woman's clothes and back up again. Isadora waited impatiently, irritated by the girl's rudeness. A servant did not judge another servant who was their elder-or for that matter their superior.
Finally Merle clicked her tongue as though coming to a great decision and said, "Yes. The prince is just fine. He has a few scratches that I told him to get taken care of, but nothing to get serious over. He sent me to check on his brother, but seeing as how he's with the queen, I'm sure he's as safe as he can be." She smirked at the irony with a humored snort. She eyed Isadora in earnest again, rubbing at her cheek with the back of her hand. The skin turned pink as it was smudged with even more grime. With a unconcerned shrug she stopped scanning and said casually, "You can go see him if ya want. He's on the balcony near the throne room eating a late meal. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you joined him." Before Isadora could stutter an embarrassed protest Merle spun around and dashed away calling, "I'm goin' to bed! See you around!" Isadora was left standing there blushing and wondering why the girl had suggested she seek out the prince.
It had been two days since the battle had ended… The white silk of the sheets was dazzled with the sunlight that pierced through the thin curtain surrounding the bed. Warmth was rolled into such beautiful things as the rays gently touched the embracing couple. It was a serene morning where everything seemed to glow, to shimmer in its own hazy way. Their skin was soft and perfect and with each touch seemed to become more so. Sitiah's gentle hand smoothed over the flesh of Strategos cheek over, and over as though he was only a pet.
Sweetly she murmured, "You've rescued Egypt… You are a great man, Strategos Folken." Her face lay inches from his against a down pillow. Her breath caressed his face, as welcome as a summer's breeze. He was enveloped in her care and love. She wanted him to be near to her, and she made sure they were not disturbed. She kissed the tip of his nose and then his lips as lightly as would a child. It was very innocent, though their bodies lay naked beneath the silk, touching only modestly. He lay on his back, and she on her side, her thigh touching his, her body curving against his side. Her smile was so lovely it caused his heart to ache; wishing that the loving look she graced him with would never fade.
"You scared me so much the day of the battle." Her sculpted eyebrows drew inward as she frowned. The concern was obvious in her voice, her features looking somewhat more delicate. Strategos turned onto his side and put his arm around her waist. He drew her closer to him, pressing his lips to her forehead and closing his eyes. His lips lingered there for a time as he thought of how very smooth the skin of her face was, beautiful and unlined by age. Sitiah sighed contentedly curling in towards him like a kitten.
He looked down at her, "I'm sorry you had so much to fear for that day. Your city…" He frowned shaking his head with regret. She could see that he was truly penitent. She had to swallow back the tears as the realization of how much she loved him in that moment threatened to smother her.
She'd been on her own for so long that she had forced herself to think that she had to rely on only herself. When she was only a girl, she was made to sit by her father's side at her sister's execution, and it had been then that she had become aware of the fact that no one could truly be trusted. Her father had been her last source of shelter, and too soon did she discover that even he was full of weaknesses that could break her. Ever since those offal days when her father had been in exile she had known loneliness that could not be easily brushed aside despite the love she received from those loyal to her. The childhood friends who she had looked to for any youthful happiness could not completely dispel the feeling of abandonment that had been with her since she was old enough to understand death. Her mother had been taken from the world soon after she had been born, which left her with an unfulfilled place in her heart. But now she was beginning to believe that fate would not be so cruel as to let her live in bitter solitude. It was a dangerous thought to entertain, but with Strategos near her she could not doubt his faithfulness.
"In time my city will be as beautiful as it once was. And with your continued vigilance she will shine even brighter!" She grinned so that her whole being seemed to glow with radiance. But Strategos still looked distracted, his brow furrowed. He did not meet her gaze, for if he had she would see that his thoughts were in turmoil. Slowly the queen's expression faded and she studied him worriedly. Was he to pass out again? Did the falling sickness plague him again?
"Strategos?" She questioned in alarm sitting up suddenly, her hand on his arm. He blinked and looked up at her. Immediately he felt guilty for worrying her and sat up as well, his arm moving from around her waist to prop himself up.
"I'm not a frail old man, Sitiah." He sighed staring down at the coverlet. Sitiah pursed her lips then drew a breath as though about to say something, but stayed silent. Oddly the bed didn't seem as warm anymore. There was something unspoken between them, and Folken knew it, though Sitiah did not. He was uncertain whether he should speak his thoughts knowing that they would undoubtedly set the woman to brooding. It almost made him laugh to think that he was afraid to make his opinion known to a woman. Suddenly he felt more like a boy than a man, and the thought vexed him.
Why should I treat her as though she were my superior? I don't cower before anyone! Certainly not a queen! But I suppose I must use tact when it comes to dealing with this situation. After all I need no more battles in Alexandria.
A knot of pity balled in his stomach for he knew it was unfair to think of Sitiah as just a political ally. He reprimanded himself with a stern reminder that she meant a great deal to him, which had nothing to do with her position. Finally he looked into her eyes and said, "Sitiah, I cannot stay as long as it will take to mend the damage here. I must return to Fanelia."
Author's Note:
Short chapter, sorry, I hope that doesn't disappoint anyone. Well the next few chapters are all the day after or the same day, which is rather slow paced, but, hey, I'm a slow one.
Peace kisses to all of you who've read and reviewed! Thanks! And if ya could, please keep commenting. If you feel I'm going a little too slow, let me know, I'd honestly appreciate it.