I got reviews out of the blue this week for "Anywhere" and "Broken," so here I am updating again. You guys really don't wanna see this story die, do you? nn Well, this time is when Hitomi finally meets Moore. Yay! Anyways, reviews are always appreciated. They're the sole reason this fic gets updated, lol. This is actually one of my favorite scenes in this fic (aside from the Rain Sequence, which you'll see later). nn

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. "So Far Away" song lyrics are property of Staind, all rights reserved.

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"Broken"—Chapter 17: Lady Hypocrisy

By The Last Princess of Hyrule

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"Now that we're here,
It's so far away,
All the struggle we thought was in vain,
All the mistakes,
One life contained,
They all finally start to go away,
Now that we're here it's so far away,
And I feel like I can face the day,
I can forgive, and I'm not ashamed,
To be the person that I am today . . ."
-Staind, "So Far Away"

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Hitomi didn't get much sleep that night, and she headed to the shelter early the next morning when the sun was just barely starting to rise. The city streets were blanketed in icy mist from last night's rain, and it brought an extra chill to the already frigid atmosphere. She wrapped her jacket around herself tightly as she walked through the streets, resolving to talk to Millerna about warm clothes when she returned to the palace.

Palas in summertime and Palas in winter seemed like two alternate realities Hitomi noticed as she walked down the street. In the summer, every open space was cluttered with merchants, stalls, and shoppers, everything bustling with noise and activity. Maybe it was the cold weather, or the depression left behind from the last Zaibach attack on the city, or perhaps a combination of both that left the streets abandoned. Well, almost. Huddled against buildings or beneath overhangs, large families of homeless people wrapped in layers of tattered cloths tried to stay warm. Hitomi passed these people as quickly as she could, trying not to look at them on the side of the street. With the sudden cold weather, their attempts were often times fruitless.

Hitomi tried not to think about how all these people once had homes, families, and average lives. They went to work, ate supper together in the evening, made friends, and fell in love. All these people were the ones she once thought about when she feared the impact of her powers should they ever get out of her control, and now these were the people she tried to avoid, as if pretending they didn't exist would make that reality. As much as she wanted to today of all days, Hitomi couldn't escape that this was reality, and if she wanted experience again the way of life she tried to preserve by leaving Asturia, she had to accept it. After all, acceptance is the first step to recovery.

So absorbed by her heavy thoughts, Hitomi climbed the stairs to the shelter, and didn't even notice the man sitting out on the steps until she walked right into him.

"You want to watch where you're going, you crazy woman?" he snapped as she stumbled back. As he looked up at her with an unmistakable salt-and-pepper beard and a hard, heavily lined face, Hitomi suddenly recognized him as one of the rebels from the night of the banquet.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, taking a cautious step back. She remembered the way he threw open the doors to the Great Hall and rushed inside, leading his rebels with confidence and determination. She didn't even know his name, but Hitomi knew he was a competent man that demanded respect.

The bearded man got to his feet in a slow, tired fashion. "I've been waiting for you, Lady Hitomi." He scowled. "Guiding goddess." There was disdain in these last two words, evidence that he didn't believe this presumption.

"You're that rebel," Hitomi pointed out nervously, wishing she hadn't as soon as the words were out of her mouth. "The one with that man that threatened King Aston at the banquet."

"Yes, I'm 'that rebel.' The one that made the stupid mistake of letting Sansom talk to the King." His scowl deepened. "I'd prefer if you called me Moore."

Hitomi nodded, unable to speak.

The rebel raised an eyebrow, looking down at her from his six-foot height with light gray eyes that weren't at all frightening. "Some goddess you are, if you're scared of me."

"I'm not a goddess," she told him timidly.

"That's obvious. Sansom insists you are, but he listens to too much gossip. You can't believe much of what he says, but he's a brilliant strategist and a good leader."

"Umm . . ." He looked like he expected an answer, but Hitomi didn't know what to say.

"Idol worship—why, oh why, do we let it influence our ideas?" Moore threw his hands up in the air in a hopeless fashion. "I don't even know why I thought this crazy plan might work in the first place. You obviously haven't done any of the things they say you've done for Gaea." He shoved roughly past her and stalked down the stairs.

Hitomi's eyes narrowed. "Wait a minute!" she shouted at him before she was fully aware of what she was doing. "I'm not your miserable goddess, but how can you say I haven't done anything for Gaea? I've done more for this planet than you ever will."

Moore stopped. "You really think that? You know, my lady, while you hide inside that clean, white palace, the people you say you saved are dying out here. I was watching you walk down that street, and you tried to turn a blind eye to all this. And yet, here you are at the shelter, trying to do some good. If you ask me, that's awfully hypocritical of you."

"And what about you? Fighting to bring an end to fighting." Hitomi frowned down at him from the top of the stairs. Suddenly, the sight of this rough-and-tumble rebel wasn't frightening at all. "You're trying to convince King Aston to save lives by threatening to take his. When it comes to hypocrisy, I think you and I are on the same level."

They glared at each other for a long minute, eyes locked. After the day before and everything that had happened, Hitomi wasn't about to let another man make her feel worthless. Sometimes you couldn't wait for someone to solve your troubles for you, you couldn't wait for someone to come save you—sometimes you had to learn to do these things yourself. Her time on Gaea had taught her that.

Then, Moore's hard expression softened a bit and he looked pensive. "You know, maybe there is more to you than meets the eye. Sansom certainly seemed to think so." He paused, folding his arms and rubbing his beard with one hand. "Maybe we should continue this conversation inside." He stepped back up the stairs and shoved through one of the shelter doors. Hitomi followed him.

Inside, no one noticed their presence. Most of the refugees were asleep in their cots under miserable tattered blankets, and only a couple volunteer attendants walked between the many rows, checking the beds with tired, overworked care. They didn't even look up as Moore strode past them, and Hitomi noticed them seemed to be falling asleep on their feet.

"You were here two days ago when they brought this man in, weren't you?" he asked over his shoulder, leading her through a maze toward a bed in the back. A man with a blackened face half covered with dirty bandages rolled back and forth in fitful sleep as Moore and Hitomi leaned over him. "He was in what should have been a reconnaissance group, but ended up trying to break Sansom out of the dungeons instead. Obviously, they didn't succeed."

Hitomi nodded, but didn't say anything. The man's screams were still fresh in her mind.

"What made you come back to this country Jichia has forsaken?" asked Moore. "Sansom said you went into Zaibach and took down the emperor yourself. I didn't believe it then, and I still don't now. I don't think you're any more remarkable than any other girl in this country, but a lot of other people seem to think so."

"I'm nothing special," said Hitomi. "Yes, I can predict the future; yes, I can call souls from death; and yes, I killed Dornkirk, but I didn't do it for any reason. It was my destiny."

Moore snorted. "Huh. I don't believe in destiny. If my life had some divine purpose, Jichia would rise up out of the sea and inform me so I could be sure to complete it."

"Everyone has their own beliefs."

"And what are yours, Girl from the Mystic Moon? They must be very interesting and unusual, considering everything about you."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You brought down the Zaibach empire, yet you consort so closely with its Strategos," Moore pointed out.

Hitomi sighed. "Why does everyone have to make such a big deal about that?"

"I'm not making a big deal," he argued. "All I'm saying is that they're two of the same thing, and yet you destroyed one of them while intending to preserve the other."

"How do you know all this anyway?" she inquired, dodging the subject.

"The palace is filled with people willing to tell me anything about anyone."

Hitomi looked down at the fallen soldier, curious about what his life had been like before he joined the resistance against King Aston. Was he like all those people outside, with a family somewhere and people who loved him? Was there someone out there looking for him, praying that he was still alive, or was he all alone, wishing there was someone left? Would he die here in this dark, miserable room because of infections caused by ill-tended wounds? Was he all that different from Hitomi, who sought to use her existence for the good of this country they both loved?

"Everyone in Asturia has the same pitiful dream," said Moore. "To someday return to that golden age of prosperity we used to have only a couple months ago. We just all have different ideas of how to get there. Do you think this man had the right idea?"

"Why do you care so much about what I think?" asked Hitomi, looking up at him.

"Well," Moore admitted, "Sansom had this crazy idea about convincing you to join our forces and lead us with your mystical powers. I really don't believe all those bullshit fairy tales he tells about you being a goddess, but if you really did destroy the Zaibach empire, maybe you can be some help."

"You just want me to fight for you?" Hitomi was appalled. "I should have known. Every stupid army on this planet wants to use me and my power to take over everything. What makes you think, after what I went through with Zaibach, that I would ever give my help to you?"

Moore shook his head. "Nothing. I've just realized that. I guess I had you mistaken with another girl from the Mystic Moon who was willing to sacrifice everything to save the people she cared about."

"Don't you dare try to presume anything about me! You don't know me."

Moore turned and headed toward the door. "I guess not." He waved over his shoulder as he walked away. "Good luck, and may Jichia preserve us all, Lady Hypocrisy."

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Someone was crying in the library. Folken could them from the other side of the room as he entered the library later in the morning after Hitomi left. He had already read all of the textbooks she brought with her from the Mystic Moon, and without a better way to occupy his time, intended to find some more. By the sound of things, however, he guessed that the other someone in the library probably wanted to be left alone. As he walked among the dusty bookshelves, Folken considered the best way to leave the library without being noticed. However, he and the crying someone saw each other before he had a chance.

Millerna immediately swallowed her tears and rubbed her eyes in fruitless effort to compose herself. "Folken—," she started with a forced smile.

"I beg your pardon, Princess Millerna," Folken interrupted, bowing. "I'll give you your privacy."

"It's okay. This room is open to anyone." Millerna's smile quavered, and a rouge tear slid down her wet cheeks.

Folken ignored her offer, knowing it was only made to be polite. "Forgive me for bothering you. I'll be going." He turned to leave and never expected Millerna to call out to him.

"No, please wait!"

He stopped, quickly hiding his surprise, and turned around.

Millerna blushed. She hadn't meant to stop him. The only thing on her mind was how much she wanted someone to comfort her, not even caring who. It wasn't until she called out to Folken that she realized how selfish she was being; it wasn't any of his concern what was bothering her. "I . . ." she began. "I'm sorry."

Folken shook his head. "You have no reason to be sorry, Princess Millerna. It was I who intruded upon you."

Millerna shook her head roughly. "No, that's not it. I'm sorry about . . . well, everything. I haven't been very nice to you since you and Hitomi returned, and I think I owe you a lot more than an apology. Something to make up for all the horrible things I thought and said about you. About—"

"Really?" Folken interrupted her before she could get into any details. He had no desire to hear all the ill-will she harbored toward his relationship with Hitomi, whether those feelings were old, new, or still ached very much. "I never noticed." He was lying, but would never admit it.

Millerna seemed to take the hint. "I . . . I want to do something for you," she began, though not quite sure what it was she would do for him. She fiddled a stack of papers among the mess of important documents she'd been sifting through before dissolving in a fit of tears. That was when the idea formed. "You . . . need money, right? So that you and Hitomi can move out of the palace someday and live life on your own?"

Folken nodded slowly. "Yes, I have been thinking about it. But I won't accept charity," he added hurriedly, "if that's what you are offering. I will provide for Hitomi myself."

"No, I wasn't going to suggest charity," said Millerna. "I wanted to offer you a job." She blushed. "It's a stupid job compared to what you're used to. In fact, I feel like I'm going to offend you just by offering."

"What is it?" Folken asked, a bit apprehensive.

"Well, you see all these papers?" Millerna waved at the cluttered desk. "I don't really know that much about important political matters and things like that. All these old files came from a building that was ruined in the attack, and there's no one alive anymore who knows what they are. My father told me to sort through them and figure out what they were for, but I just can't make any sense of them." The young princess rambled on without reason, fearful that when she stopped talking, Folken would tell her just how foolish her suggestion was. "I've come across everything from work contracts to obituaries, and—"

"It's all right, Princess Millerna, I understand," Folken interrupted again. It had become obvious to him since arriving at the palace that sometimes Millerna had trouble finishing her thoughts. Especially around himself, it seemed. Why was that? He shook his head. "I can see why you need help," he said, referring to the papers.

Millerna held her breath in anticipation, wincing slightly as she feared for the worst.

"I must admit," Folken went on. "This is quite a bit different from the duties I'm used to . . ." He sighed inwardly. "But work is work."

Millerna's face lit up like a candle, and she let out her pent-up breath with relief. "Oh, thank you so much, Folken! You have no idea how much this means to me, truly. I'll talk to Father as soon as I see him about your pay. And I'll try to find something better for you to do, I promise. I know there are much better things a person of your prestige could be doing besides filing paperwork."

"I should be the one thanking you, Princess Millerna," Folken said politely, even though he already wished he hadn't agreed to the job.

Millerna waved it off. "Don't be silly." She leapt up from behind the desk and hurried around him toward the door. "Well, I should really go look for my father. Again, thank you so much!" She turned and dashed away.

Folken looked back at the desk with a sigh. "Aren't there court secretaries for this?" he mumbled. The mass of paper was a formidable obstacle, one which he had no idea how to combat. On board the Vione, there had always been a team of Zaibach soldiers assigned to the tedious chore of bookkeeping, who only handed paperwork to the Strategos when it needed his signature. Folken sighed. Another rare perk he missed about his days with Zaibach, respect being foremost.

Well, the paperwork wasn't going to file itself, he figured. And he wouldn't be paid for doing nothing. Nor would he accept pay for doing nothing. The only way, it seemed, that he could start saving money for his and Hitomi's future was by turning a clump of papers into and orderly stack. Oh, the monotony.

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TO BE CONTINUED . . .

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Poor Folken, forced to do a job that's so beneath him. nn Please review, and have a good day/night!