Disclaimer: Tenkuu no Escaflowne is property of Bandai and Sunrise, all rights reserved. I am in no way affiliated with these companies, and am not making a profit by writing this novel. Any similarities between my work and that of any other fan-author is purely coincidental. "Love Song" song lyrics are property of 311, all rights reserved.
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"Broken" -Chapter 8: Love Song
By The Last Princess of Hyrule
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"However far away,
I will always love you,
However long I stay,
I will always love you,
Whatever words I say,
I will always love you,
I will always love you . . ."
-311, "Love Song"
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As her former love led Hitomi away, and the bedroom door closed behind them, Folken let down his masked visage with a heavy sigh. The only thing that could have made this horrible day worse was if Allen showed up, and made known his utter disregard for their relationship. No doubt the aforementioned "Heavenly Knight" would see fit to tell Hitomi about his evident disdain for her new love. It was only written all over his expression at the sight of Folken with her the night they arrived in Palas.
At least Allen made an attempt to hide his contempt, though. Van wasn't at all hesitant to express what he thought. It was painfully obvious how infatuated Van was with Hitomi.
Folken pushed the blanket off his lap and stood, running his fingers through his hair with another sigh. It wasn't just infatuation. Van loved her, and it showed vividly in his every jealous action. Gods, how Folken hated the thought, that he and his brother could be in love with the same girl.
They had more than enough problems between each other, without throwing in Hitomi. Van still held onto his distrust for Folken like a stubborn child, refusing to believe his brother had changed. It came as no surprise to Folken, though, who had expected it. He knew it would take a long time to regain Van's trust, especially after "kidnapping Hitomi and stealing the Escaflowne," as everyone in Asturia claimed.
But, now this? How would he apologize to Van for falling in love with the girl his little brother loved? Folken couldn't help feeling a little ashamed. Even before leaving Asturia, he knew Van was falling in love with Hitomi, though Van would never admit it. Hitomi seemed to be falling for Van as well. Fate was making it clear that they were to find happiness together, not in the arms of others.
Folken knew this. He knew it wasn't his fate to be with Hitomi, or hers to be with him. He'd struggled to keep his emotions in check, and even tried to leave her just to escape them. If it meant Van's happiness and forgiveness, Folken would have given her up. But not now, not after learning how she felt. Not after he'd finally learned how to love. There had to be some other way to regain Van's trust.
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Van lay on his bed with his eyes closed and one arm draped over them. His leg ached like nothing he'd ever suffered before, and the only thing he could think about was the sight of Hitomi and Folken in the garden, and the expressions on their faces as they met his. He squinted his eyes and rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand, as if trying to rub the image out of his memory. It was hopeless.
"Lord Van, you're back!" Van looked up to see Merle bound through the open door, beaming with excitement. In three enthusiastic leaps, she threw herself over his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Van doubled up and coughed.
"Hello, Merle," he answered when he regained his breath, failing to show any interest in her presence. All he wanted was to be left alone in his lament.
Merle looked up at him, crestfallen. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." Van laid back again and closed his eyes.
"How come you're just sitting here? Aren't you going to the banquet?"
Van opened his eyes again. "What banquet?"
Noting the spark of interest, Merle perked up and smiled. "The banquet Millerna planned for Hitomi's welcome-home tonight!" She sat back on her knees, bouncing up and down on the bed. "Aren't you going, Lord Van?"
Van sat up, the prospect of seeing Hitomi again suddenly making him forget everything else. For some reason, he felt a little light of hope rising up inside him, as if he was getting a second chance to win her heart. "Yes, actually."
"Really? You're okay?" she asked with a shocked expression that clearly wondered, 'Even with what happened today?'
Van noticed this in her expression, but didn't address it. "I'm not really that tired," he said, answering the intended question. He ignored her rather blunt hint.
Merle looked concerned. "Isn't your leg bothering you after all that walking?"
Van somehow managed not to wince as she reminded him of the throbbing ache. "It feels fine," he lied. "Besides, it's almost healed, and it's probably better that I start walking around on it more anyway."
Merle's expression didn't change as he got off the bed and headed toward the wardrobe. Since he'd become a semi-permanent resident at the palace, the palace seamstress felt obliged to sew him some formal wear for any important dinners he was to intend. He was, after all, the King of Fanelia, whether or not he had a country at the moment, and a King needed to look the part if he wanted to be taken seriously.
"Are you sure you want to go?" the cat-girl asked as he dug through the wardrobe looking for a particular violet robe with silver trim. "Even though Hitomi's going to be there?"
"Of course. Why wouldn't I want to go?" Van asked, not looking up. "Why are you so down? A minute ago you were excited about this."
"Well, I just don't want you to get disappointed," Merle admitted. "You're trying to pretend like what happened this afternoon never really happened, and that's wrong. I know you love her, Lord Van, but it doesn't look like she feels the same way about you, and I just don't want to see you get hurt!" Her words ended on a note of urgency, and Van turned around.
"Merle, don't worry so much," he said. "I'm sure everything will turn out okay. I'm just going to tell her how feel and then let her make the decision."
Merle didn't argue with him, but as Van turned back to the wardrobe, she allowed her skepticism to show on her usually mischievous face.
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While Millerna's ladies-in-waiting fussed over Hitomi, and Van searched for the rest of his formal wear, the rest of the palace was in an uproar making the final preparations for that night's celebration. The kitchens were bursting with shouting and confusion as the cooks and scullery maids hurried to make the vast quantities of the six courses set to be served later for dinner.
The Great Hall was still a mess, with snippets of decorations from each of the three different themes Millerna wanted to use before changing her mind cluttering different areas. People hurried in and out between the palace and the shops around it that supplied the goods, making sure the last details were in order.
In all the chaos and confusion, it was easy for a few workers to sneak away without anyone being missed. They met under a tall, shady oak just outside the palace walls that still clung determinedly to its dying leaves. Here, though they were in plain sight of anyone who passed by, a small resistance could meet without risk of being disturbed.
A tall, solidly-built man looked over the small group, dressed in a heavy reddish tunic, dark leggings, tall boots, and a thick ebony cloak. Under his unkempt black hair, stern black eyes glared out at the group, measuring them up and down in the fashion of a military general rating the chances of his troops' success in an upcoming battle.
"All right, everyone here?" he asked in a commanding voice. "Good. So, how are things looking for tonight?" He looked down at a nervous, stick-thin man dressed in blue serving man's livery sitting cross-legged in the grass. He was constantly looking over his shoulder to make sure no one was going out of their way to see what the group under the tree was doing.
"I'm taking charge of all the entryways on the western side of the palace, so you should have no trouble coming in from over there," said the thin man. "The guards come by to check on things every fifteen minutes, so make sure you time things."
The tall man nodded. "What's the word with the troupe?"
A bored-looking woman looked up at him, dressed in a decorative maroon minstrel's costume that distracted the eye from her uninteresting features. A finely-crafted flute in a leather case sat at her feet. "Just wait for our signal, Sansom."
Sansom nodded again, his dark eyes darting among the faces of the minstrels from one to another, as if judging them in their devotion to his cause. "Don't even think about letting me down. This time, we're going to make Aston listen to our demands."
"Sansom," called a quiet voice that had just discreetly joined the group from the road. A hooded man dressed all in black with a shaggy salt-and-pepper beard knelt by the leader. "Everyone's making their way inside the palace walls with the supplies we'll need for tonight. Everything should be set up within the hour."
"Ah, Moore, it's about time. The supplies arrived all right?"
"We picked them up at the landing field about an hour ago. Lord Dryden's men shipped them out this afternoon after trading for them someplace right on the Cesario border. It never fails to amaze me how that man can be so far from Palas and still hear about everything that happens here before we do."
"Doesn't surprise me," said Sansom. "With his father on the high council, it's only natural that he'd be the first to know things."
Moore shrugged noncommittally. "Anyway, it's all thanks to his generous funding that we're able to go through with this. Though I think he's wondering why we haven't gotten King Aston to listen to us yet."
Sansom scowled. "Aston's a fat old asshole. He's too busy swimming through his piles of gidaru to notice anything else."
"That's what this little "scene" is for, isn't it? To get the King to notice us?"
"Yeah." Sansom folded his arms across his chest like a smug Buddha. "That, and to let the Lady Hitomi know we exist. Maybe she'll be willing to help us out, be like our guiding goddess. She is, after all, the savior of Gaea."
"Tell me again why she would care about our little rebellion?" asked Moore, feigning interest.
"Because she's a kind-hearted woman who wishes for peace, and the only way for there to be peace in Asturia is if Aston heeds our demands."
Moore rolled his eyes. "You listen to too much of your wife's gossip, Sansom. How do you know this Lady Hitomi is anything like you say?"
Sansom scowled. "Does it matter? If everything goes according to plan, we won't even need her."
"Whatever you say," said Moore, seizing the lull in conversation to change topic. "As far as plans go, everything is in order."
"Excellent." Sansom smiled and clapped his comrade on the back. "You're a great second-in-command, Moore."
"Thanks," said Moore insincerely, not smiling. Tonight was strictly businessno humane gestures allowed, nothing that could possibly jeopardize their plans. Sansom didn't seem to realize the gravity of their task. If they failed tonight, that was it. Their resistance was over. "So, how do we know when to make our move?"
"The troupe will signal you," Sansom informed him, nodding toward the maroon colored players. "Have a few people covering the windows. Everyone else should be split into two forces that will storm through the doors opening to the Great Hall on either side. When you hear 'Waltz of the Atlantis Borne', come right in."
Moore nodded grimly, adjusting his cloak in a self-conscious manner and looking around again, obviously suspicious and distrusting of the traveling minstrels. How could Sansom be so sure that they would do as they promised? They didn't live in Palasthey probably didn't empathize with the Asturian people's quarrels with their government. But if Sansom trusted them, who was Moore to disagree?
Moore got up without a word and headed back to the palace to check on preparation, trying to ignore the knot of anxiety that sat in the pit of his stomach. It grew bigger with every minute ticking away toward the celebration for the heroic return of the Girl from the Mystic Moon.
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TO BE CONTINUED . . .
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