A/N
Wow, I'm updating twice today. (I updated Before the Heart a couple hours ago.)
I keep lying to you. Unintentionally. The part inspired by my life is in the next chapter, I promise. That part has been hard to write, and I had to rewrite it again. (Blame life. Life is a little grittier for me now.) This chapter, meanwhile, is almost entirely new. It kind of came out of nowhere. And I may have split this into its own chapter for the mere desire to give it the title I did. Yes, it's a play on Room and Board. Yes I know Ruhm doesn't rhyme with room. I don't care. I've had a rough month and that's what I wanted to name this chapter.
Thanks to those who reached out to me. Having a sudden death in the family has been hard. I appreciate the support and all the comments. Really. Thank you.
Not much happens in this chapter, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.
xo-CE
Song Inspirations:
This one took some work. I listened to the Escaflowne movie OST a million times, plus whatever Spotify's algorithm showed me based on that (which was usually anime themed and very lovely). But when I was able to listen to music with words again, here's what stood out: End of All Time by Stars of Track and Field, Silhouettes by Of Monsters and Men, and Cosmic Love by F+tM. Plus the songs I've mentioned previously, especially in Van's chapter, and all the Lord Huron songs from my Ice playlist.
Chapter 14 - Ruhm and Bored
Hitomi took a sip of her tea and kept her eyes on the children. If she closed them, she saw Van lying in his own blood again, and the frustration of the sight would twist her belly and erase her appetite. She couldn't have that. She needed to eat. If she didn't, she only felt ill. So she nibbled her curious sandwich and kept her eyes on the children as they ran about in the blessedly safe Asturian streets.
The little ones were playing a game of tag with rules she didn't understand, where sometimes they froze and sometimes they ran away, but she enjoyed watching nonetheless. She might not be playing with them, they might not know her by her braided crown of hair, but she recognized their simple joy and happy laughter. Their cheerful cries echoing above the pleasant hum of the marketplace were both a distraction for her mind and a balm for her aching, homesick heart.
She didn't bother hiding her tears, but she did grip Van's cloak closed with a fist. The air was not quite cool, but she enjoyed the extra weight around her shoulders. It kept her from feeling totally alone as she searched the streets of Palas.
Her dreams had changed after her first night here. She still saw Van's unrecognizable figure stumbling along, his gloved hands grasping, his body collapsing, but now that vision was mixed with the white dragon. Before she left Fanelia, her dream started out with the sun shining at a very particular spot on his chamber wall before she saw him stumble through the door, hit his head against the frame of the washroom door, and then lie in a pool of his own blood until someone found him sometime later.
This new dream left her with a different, slightly lesser sort of apprehension. Every night she'd see the dragon's glinting red eye and its sparkling white body hiding in an alley, until a woman cried out and the dragon's nails clattered on the cobbled road as it slithered around a corner.
Hitomi would awake wondering what it was she was supposed to be looking for. Was Van going to be wandering the streets, helpless? The idea chilled her, so she resigned herself to searching the streets every day.
It gave her something to focus on, at least.
Stepping back into the easy luxury of Van's room here had been difficult. Without the pressure of survival, keeping her mind from worrying and her body from anxious boredom was a challenge. She'd cleaned his room, tidied his things, explored the garden, spent hours in the library, and searched new parts of the city every day, hoping to recognize anything from her dream. She'd even bought a few things she thought she might need. Today, she'd purchased a length of beautiful green fabric the color of the fields in spring. It was something she could work with, just in case she was wrong about Van returning soon.
She had spent some time with Millerna, but the other queen was busy running her own kingdom. Besides, when she had attended dinner with her, the formal, cheerful atmosphere had been almost suffocating to Hitomi after months of gritty familiarity with Crystalline, Lissa, Yukari, and the remaining ministers. Millerna, safe in her beautiful palace surrounded by her children untouched by fire, couldn't even begin to comprehend Hitomi's mind and mood.
So she preferred to take her tea alone, at first at the little table in Van's room, then at a table in the garden, until finally, she discovered she preferred to have tea anywhere in the city. Here, she was away from the memories of his room. Here, she could watch the people and imagine a better future for those waiting for her and their king back in Fanelia. Always as she ate, she kept her eye open for her dragon.
Today she'd found a little shop that served exquisite tea and sandwiches, and today's had a perplexing flavor that she couldn't pin down more than to describe it as savory and minty. She enjoyed it all the more because it matched her swirling emotions.
She shouldn't have been surprised, but just being back in Van's Palas room had been enough to reignite the flames of her desire. That was where they had consummated their marriage, after all. When she sat on the couch, she remembered the first time he touched her and the feel of his shoulders under her fingers as they kissed. In the washroom, she could picture him staring intently at her while she braided her hair.
At first, not wanting to torture herself by sleeping in the bed, she made a bed on the floor where she had only a pleasant, bearable image of him laughing at her for the first time or the firelight glinting off the contours of his chest as he strode towards her. But her back hurt after the first two nights, so she settled for the couch and a couple extra pillows, as Van had apparently done.
Suffice to say that here in Palas, where she was comfortable and had very little to occupy her body aside from going for a walk and trying to interpret her dreams, this strange, aching yearning for him was almost enough to make her miss the distraction of survival.
Back in Fanelia, especially once the snow got deep, she had very little mental energy for sentimentality. Even while she sewed, her mind had been occupied with someone's worries and cares. It wasn't uncommon for Arlott or Steppe to sit and counsel informally with her in Crystalline's home many evenings. At least once or twice a week, she made a point to watch the moon rise or find Escaflowne in the sky and send her husband a warm thought, but most nights, come moonrise, she was already asleep. She had neither time nor energy nor mental wherewithal to dwell on fantasies of her husband.
Though she carried him with her in other ways.
She kept the carved mouse in her pocket. She had her signet ring. And of course she had dreams.
Until the horrible dream that brought her here, her dreams of him had remained either pleasant, neutral, or downright sterile. She saw him at the gala, walking the streets of Fanelia, or at court with their people. Blessedly, none of those dreams stirred her desire. Oddly enough—or perhaps not—the only dream she had about their time here in Asturia centered on that night in Jichia's Hollow. In that dream, she felt his arms around her and heard his voice in her ear as he told her he had no regrets choosing her as his queen, that he knew she understood what it meant to be a steward over his people.
Of all the things they'd shared, she carried this encouragement with her like a relic.
At the time, she'd all but dismissed his words as mere benevolence, thinking he was just being magnanimous about her morbid story. Nevertheless, later, his intention struck her when it occurred to her that it had been a vote of confidence in her character and ability. That being true, she could return home to Fanelia with her chin held high and her mind no longer clouded by the former uncertainty between them.
They were one.
Hitomi took one last sip of her tea before she stood and made her way towards an interesting looking market street that sloped towards the harbor. About a dozen booths down, she was drawn to a table covered with an assortment of familiar looking wooden toys, chimes, and glittering ceramics. Since she was disinclined to spend money, she merely glanced at the unshaven merchant manning the booth before skimming her eyes over his wares.
"Queen Fanel?" the man asked, his voice rough.
Hitomi looked up, wide-eyed and alert. In spite of her ring and Van's cloak, most people in the market ignored her, and she had hoped nobody knew her by her title. The man was coming around the table rather quickly, and Hitomi backed away, glancing around to make sure it wasn't a ruse to pick her pockets.
"My queen," he said again, and she froze and gaped as the bulky man knelt and held out his fist, his tan robes pooling around him. "You are Queen Fanel, are you not?"
Her face was burning. She didn't like drawing attention to herself, especially not as a refugee queen in unfamiliar streets, and she glanced around again, this time to see who noticed. When she saw that most people were going about their day as usual, she blinked, and brought herself to give him a more proper greeting. Placing her hand to cover his outstretched fist, she muttered, "Blessings of Escaflowne," the quickest greeting she knew.
With a relieved smile, he looked up at her, his eyes watery, as he took her hand in his and kissed it. "It is you, my queen. I have heard that you wander the streets in search of the Dragon."
Hitomi's breath caught and her heart skipped. She snatched her hand away. "What is a Fanelian doing gossiping in foreign lands?" she asked sharply.
"My Queen," he said, prostrating himself on the ground, "I am but a traveling merchant. I am no spy. My fealty belongs to my Lord, the Dragon King."
A couple passersby were eying them now, and she held her chin high and met their eyes until they looked away. She turned back to the man on the ground before her.
"That being true, merchant, then tell me what you know of my business and how?" she asked.
"Forgive me, my Dragon Queen," he cried a little too loudly into the ground.
A few people paused, and while the title made her chest swell deliciously, she set her jaw and subdued her blush.
"I have heard rumors from fellow merchants of your presence and made a guess. Please, I am no spy," he said again. "Lord Fanel has laid claim to my family for ten generations. My ancestors owe his ancestors their lives and lands. Please, my lady, forgive me for my earnestness."
She sucked in a slow breath in an attempt to calm her racing heart. If what he said is true, then perhaps she could relax a little. Knowing she at least needed to get him off the ground so he wouldn't continue to cause a scene, she bent and touched his hunched shoulders. "Please rise and give me your name, merchant," she said in the calmest voice she could muster.
He pushed himself to one knee and bowed his head. "I'm Ruhm, your Majesty."
"Ruhm. And you are from…?"
"Arzas, my lady," he said, holding out his fist again.
Recognizing this as a plea for forgiveness, she covered it with her hand again. "Ruhm of Arzas, may Escaflowne rain down blessings upon you and your family. I greet you as Queen of Fanelia," she said as carefully and quickly as she could.
The moment didn't feel real. The scene almost wavered before her. She hadn't greeted anyone so formally since before the winter– the people who saw her around the burnt city had become so accustomed to seeing her out and about– and she almost wondered if this was part of a dream. She glanced around again to see that the sun was clear in the cloudless sky, and the street around her was lively and in full color. Though her head swam, her aching feet were planted firmly on the uneven, cobbled ground.
Then she felt him kissing her hand again before he released it and stood up. His eyes darted around her face and back down. "I have a gift for you, my beautiful queen," he said with a little bow before he scrambled back behind the booth. "Please forgive its lateness, but your wedding happened so swiftly that my wife needed extra time to gather the gems. I have carried it with me for the last year hoping to someday cross your path."
"You've been hoping to find me for a year? Why didn't you come to the capital?"
"Oh, my lady, the roads weren't safe for a traveling merchant. Please forgive me," he said as he rifled through his bags.
There was more she wanted to ask, but she held her tongue. She wanted this unsettling encounter over. While the man had a friendly face she might take a liking to under different circumstances, being caught off-guard in the streets like this reminded her how exposed and vulnerable and alone she really was.
The urge to run back to the room grew with surprising speed within her chest, almost suffocating her, and she looked around anxiously. Her feet, too, itched with urgency to move. As soon as she could, she needed to return to the palace, and she didn't think she could get there quickly enough to satisfy her desire.
Ruhm straightened and held his meaty hand across the table with a tiny gift in his open palm.
Hitomi bent closer to inspect it.
Her breath hitched.
The sights and sounds of the market around her faded.
In Ruhm's open palm he held a sparkling brooch, a white dragon of glittering jewels with a single, red-gemmed eye that glinted in the light.
In her mind, she saw Van's gloved hand groping along a wall, heard his feet stumbling as he fell into the door of his Asturian bedroom.
Distantly, a woman cried out.
The hair on Hitomi's neck prickled.
Blinking rapidly, the image of Van disappeared.
The colors of the market returned swiftly to her periphery, but everything around her moved at a sludgy pace. The merchant was speaking, but she couldn't hear the words he spoke. Her mind was filled by the angry voice of the woman behind her.
In painful slow motion, Hitomi turned around to see a boisterous wave of older children swarming around a fruit stall she hadn't yet noticed manned by a woman she'd never seen before. The woman was shouting, waving for the children to get away.
With fine detail, she watched the woman's green skirt ripple as she jumped before a couple of girls trying to duck into her squat wooden booth. A red-headed boy with bare feet and holey, gray trousers tripped, falling hands-first into a stacked pyramid of large, fuzzy piscus. The clatter of the husky fruits bouncing across the paved street echoed in Hiotmi's head, sounding exactly like the claws of the skittering dragon in her dreams. It filled her ears as she watched the boy somersault to his feet, snatch up a piscus, and dart away.
A tremor ran up Hitomi's spine as her skin electrified.
The activity on the market street returned to normal speed, but the sound of it now was covered by the ringing of her ears, as if she'd just heard a loud explosion.
Taking a deep breath, pressing her fluttering belly, she shuddered as her body filled again with the urgency to return to the room.
She let out a breath, her mind clearing as she understood the purpose for that energy.
"Van," she said as the world steadied around her.
"My Queen?" someone was asking her.
She turned to the merchant, having forgotten he was there, and looked from him to the brooch she had at some point taken up and held in a painful death grip.
"I love it, Ruhm," she said, somehow recalling his name. "Tell your wife it's perfect. I must go now. Goodbye," she said.
With a burst of energy, she all but ran up the hill in the direction of the palace. She sidestepped past men and women, holding her market bag of fabric and notions close to her chest. Sweat began to bead on her forehead and, after crossing two canals, she had to stop for a breath. Her belly was cramping and she took off Van's billowing cloak and shoved it in her bag, the cool air relieving her exposed and burning skin.
As she alternated between a jog and a walk on the long way back, her mind raced, wondering if she should search for Van anywhere else and try to intercept him before he collapsed in his bedroom.
But no. She had no idea how he would arrive. If it was by levi-ship, she couldn't tell for the tall buildings blocking the sky. If it was by foot or horse, there were too many roads he might take to get here. If it was by water… Hitomi paused and looked back down towards the harbor. She was going the wrong way.
No. Hitomi reminded herself what she'd told Van that last night together in Jichia's Hollow, that perhaps her visions were a gift from Escaflowne, and that he had brought them together in the first place. If that were true, then she ought to put her faith where her mouth was.
The one consistent thing from her dreams was the bedroom. That's where her husband would go. And it made sense. Whatever he was struggling with, the first thing her stubborn, reticent husband would seek out was the solitude and familiarity and comfort of the only place in Palas that he could reasonably make his sanctuary.
By the time she had returned to the palace and woven her way through its halls and courtyards, her head pounded and her forehead was damp with perspiration. When she finally came to the long hallway and within sight of Van's door, she sprinted to it and threw it open.
It was empty and silent. The floor by the washroom door was blessedly free of her husband's body. Remembering that in the original dream, the light shone through the window just so, she glanced to see that it was not quite right.
Van hadn't arrived yet.
She fell back against the casement, chest heaving, and let herself bask momentarily in the lightness of having succeeded so far. She'd beat him here.
Closing her eyes, she gave herself a moment to catch her breath. Judging by the light on the wall, she had a little while before he came. In the meantime, she had work to do. She wasn't going to sit and wait for him. No, now she knew he was on his way, she would be ready.
A rush of excitement shivered through her.
After refreshing herself briefly, most of what she did after was guesswork. She could only guess he'd be hungry, so she rang for a servant to fetch a meal. She guessed he would have injuries, so she set out the bandages and salves she'd collected over the last few days on Van's butler's tray, which she put in the room. She prepared a fresh pitcher with one glass in the bathroom and another next to the bed. She prepared the as-of-yet unused bed by throwing back the linens. But before all of that, she began filling the large bath basin in the washroom with as much hot water as she could. Thank goodness Asturia had boilers. Hot water on demand was a luxury she'd desperately missed in Fanelia.
She was emptying a jar of soothing salts into the steamy, soapy water, watching mesmerized as the large grains sank through the sparkling bubbles, when something heavy hit the door to the hall with a thud.
Startled, her fingers released the jar, and it disappeared under the foam and sank with a clink. Hitomi spun around. She thought she had told her feet to move quickly, but time stretched out again. She felt her cheeks flush, wisps of hair brushed against her neck as she moved, she saw with a glance the light on the wall in the exact spot she'd seen dozens of time in her dreams, heard the sound of metal against metal on the door lock, and watched her hand move ever so slowly towards the door latch.
But when she pulled on it, the door flew open a little too quickly, and her husband's dark, armored body fell heavy into her open, waiting arms.
A/N
I did it! I wrote a cliffhanger! Yay! (Maybe not for you, but it's fun for me.)
I love Ruhm. How could he not feature in my story? He had to. He pretty much insisted on being here.
What did you think?
