A Quick Note On Chapter Numbering:
On 24 Sept 2022, I added the Foreword. This means that all the chapters were pushed up a number. So now Chapter 4 is labeled Chapter 5 in navigation. Please note that reviews made by that date refer to the actual chapter number. So reviews for this chapter made by 24 Sept would be labeled Chapter 4, but after 25 Sept they'll be Chapter 5. I'm sorry for the confusion.
Standard disclaimer: I don't own Escaflowne. This story was inspired by Suilsafir's Black and Gold one-shot, Home is Where the Heart Is.
The inspiration for this chapter is probably The Night We Met by Lord Huron, or King and Lionheart by Of Monsters and Men.
It's probably best to just check out my complete playlist on Spotify. Again, look up CovertEyes and/or One Night for the Heart if you're interested.
Chapter 4: Wonder and Lightning
Hitomi lay on her belly on a simple bed she'd made up before the fire, watching the flames burn through the logs and listening to the wind blow outside. Tomorrow she would likely begin her return trip home to the people she'd come to love, but for now she was grateful for a chance to clean herself off and rest. Van's room was dark aside from the fire and a single lamp on the large table, and the peaceful ambiance made her pleasantly drowsy.
Her bath had lasted until the sky grew completely black, as it had taken quite a while for Rena to help her wash and detangle her hair from the days-old, matted braids. She felt so much more herself now she'd scrubbed away the sweat and grime of her travels and months in refuge. The tonics she'd used were sweetly fragrant and her skin now gleamed smooth and young again. Rena had taken her clothes to launder, giving her instead a silky nightgown and a robe that felt like heaven to wear.
She had missed this kind of comfort. Back in Fanelia, she was staying with her lady's maid, Yukari. Theirs was a simple existence, but, while Hitomi was safe and taken care of, proper baths were a luxury. It would be years, she knew, before she enjoyed these palatial accommodations for herself in a home of her own again, but there was no bitterness in the thought. Her heart had been called to Fanelia, and so Fanelia she would help rebuild.
Sighing, Hitomi's pleasant mood began to ebb away. She had yet to hear from Van. Perhaps her speculation that he was returning had been incorrect. Perhaps she should have realized he'd merely given up his room to her and found other quarters to sleep, that the maid cleaning had just made it easier for him to transport his things elsewhere.
The idea made her hungry belly tighten with anxiety. This was an old familiar sting, one she'd done her best to learn to live with during the first months of their marriage. She desperately did not want to give into it, but what else could she think? It was past dinner and practically bedtime and her husband was nowhere to be seen.
Dropping her head onto her arms and closing her eyes, Hitomi did the only thing she could think of. She began to hum a happy tune, one her mother used to sing. The diddy was a silly song about a fish who falls in love with a bird, and she couldn't help but be cheered by it. Besides, her body was so very relaxed now she was clean, and if she fixated on that and the sound of the storm blowing in outside, she could perhaps just fall asleep and let this day be over. At least she had a little bed on the floor to sleep on. Cold comfort, certainly, but better than sleeping alone in her husband's bed, no matter how nice it was.
"Why are you sleeping on the floor?" a low voice asked from behind her.
Hitomi squealed and twisted in surprise, then burrowed into the blanket, mortified.
It was Van, she knew it was, and that he must have come through the door without knocking. What had he meant by sneaking in? Had he meant to startle her? But she couldn't find room to feel annoyed by his stealth. Instead, relief and happiness swept swiftly through her, rolling the bitter weight off her heart, and an excited giddiness overtook her.
She laughed at herself as she peeked at him over the blanket. "You couldn't knock?"
In the firelight, she spied a faint smile on his lips, but it faded as his eyes continued holding her expectantly. She pressed her lips together and cleared her throat as it occurred to her that he may have taken her bed on the floor as a rejection of sorts. It might serve him right to feel that way for once, but that had not been her intention, and it was not how she wanted to start the night.
Clutching the blanket around her shoulders, she sat up to more openly look at him. "Well, I've been drying my hair," she said as she freed her long, half-dried hair from the blanket with one hand. Then, waving towards the flames, she added, "I also just enjoy sitting in front of the fire."
He swallowed, his face relaxing a tinge, though his eyebrows raised. "On the floor though?" he asked.
Hitomi shrugged with a smile.
He made a noise of acknowledgement and looked away, and she thought it might have been to hide a smile by the way his cheeks raised, but then he spoke, still not looking at her. "I like sitting in front of the fire, too. It helps calm my mind." He lifted a hand to rub his neck. "Sometimes, if I'm having a hard time sleeping in a bed, I find I sleep just fine before the fire." His eyes bounced off her and back to the fire as he added, "But it's usually on a couch."
Guessing that he was trying to find common ground with her, a bloom of joy rose within her breast. She grinned at him. "Do you also find it helps dry your hair?" she teased.
To her delight, he laughed at her quip. It was a simple laugh, not much more than a chuckle, but she liked the way his eyes sparked in the light of the fire.
After a pause, he said, "Dinner will be here in a few minutes."
Hitomi sighed in relief, allowing herself to feel the gnawing hunger in her stomach. "Thank goodness there is not a formal dinner," she replied as she let go of the blanket and rose to her feet.
"There is. I never go, and I told them not to expect us."
"Good," she said quickly, only for heat to creep up her neck. Glancing at him with wide, horrified eyes at her brashness, she saw on his face the faintest of smirks and knew he was trying to hide his amusement. Scrambling for something to say, the only thing her mind could land on was her lack of formal wear. Flapping her hand before herself, she swayed and said through a faltering smile, "Besides, I have nothing to wear."
Too late, she glanced down to see the sash of her silk robe had loosened when she had stood up, exposing her décolletage that the nightgown barely covered—and she'd just drawn attention to it. Clamping her eyes shut for a breath, Hitomi wished for that blanket to hide under again.
Van remained eerily silent next to her, and she swallowed to wet her mouth as she braved a look his way.
He stood square and seemingly taller than he had before, his hands twitching at his sides, as his eyes—large and dark and intense—scanned up and down her figure, taking in her bare feet, her exposed calves, the tuck of her waist where her loose sash tied, her neckline again, before he swallowed and met her eyes with an intensity that sent a shiver throughout her entire body.
If she had been warm before, it was nothing to the heat creeping over her now. Her heart sped up uncontrollably and she clenched her hands into her robe—though instinctively she wanted to cover herself. Nevertheless, she was determined not to shrink. She stood with as much practiced poise as she could muster.
This look from her husband was one she'd never experienced before, and she began to quake with… what emotion? Anticipation? Satisfaction that he was looking at her so? Admittedly, a part of her certainly felt satisfied, but the more rational part reminded herself that she'd worn outfits that had emphasized her figure before but he had never bothered admiring her then.
What was different now?
A chill shot down her spine as she realized that the only logical explanation was that her husband had been made desperate by war.
The thought cooled her as quickly as a shock of cold water.
Unable to bear his scrutiny any longer, she clasped her arms around herself and turned to frown at the fire with a shuddering breath. When Van took a step closer to her, she stiffened with a jerk of her head, and he halted.
"I—," he cleared his throat. "I—uh." She heard him swallow. "Excuse me," he said quickly, huskily, before he swiftly turned, swiped the lamp from the table, and strode into the washroom.
She watched him go from the corner of her eye and let out a breath of relief when the door shut behind him. Collapsing onto her makeshift bed, Hitomi cradled her face in her shaking hands as the burning sensation slowly abated.
What had she been thinking earlier when she thought she could handle more of Van's intense stares? Her chest hurt from holding her breath, her body had been on edge the whole time, and her head ached.
As her heart and mind slowed down, rational thought returned.
Perhaps her assumption that he was desperate had been a little unfair. Her father was a general; she'd caught wind of brothels that popped up wherever troops were posted. She knew that if her husband the king wanted to, he could satisfy his lusts whenever he caught the urge with whatever woman caught his eye.
But apparently, by the burning look in his eyes just now, that hadn't happened—in a while, anyway. And, guessing by the state of his room when she first saw it, he probably didn't have a mistress either—at least one he was interested in impressing. By that logic, he probably hadn't had a mistress when they married.
But if he didn't have a mistress, why did he keep her at arm's length? And why the sudden change now?
Hitomi admitted she was perplexed by his new behavior.
Maybe, she conceded, the war had altered him. She'd seen it in her father, after all—sometimes for the worst, but also for the better. After one long separation, he returned home more outwardly affectionate towards her mother than he'd ever been. He had become content to spend evenings in with her, when he had previously been used to going into town or entertaining friends. She'd been aware of an increase in other activities between them, too, and while it was awkward to know of such things between one's parents, she was happy for them. At least they seemed happier afterwards. She wouldn't know, of course, what that was like, but perhaps—.
Hitomi abruptly stood and chastised herself for dwelling on such things, busying her hands by cleaning her temporary bed from off the floor.
Just as she folded the last blanket, a knock sounded at the hall door. She opened it and found two footmen carrying their dinner and awaiting her orders. Directing them to move the large table just to the other side of the fire, they did and then arranged the platters just so before stepping out again.
Distractedly, she stood watching the reflection of the fire in the silver-domed trays, wondering what more might happen tonight, when a light flashed behind her. She turned towards the window just as thunder vibrated the casings. It was a welcome diversion for her, but she recognized Van might not feel that way. Still, she stared, transfixed, as rain started pattering against the window panes. It beat such a soothing tattoo, and before long, she noticed the fluttering of her insides dissipate.
Van had been in the washroom a long time, and she was probably as ready to see him again as she ever would be. Hitomi crept again before the fire, sitting so her damp hair faced the flames and so she could watch the flashing storm through the windows.
It occurred to her just then that if Van hadn't asked her to stay, she would have been caught in the storm on the road.
And before that, after he'd deposited her on his bed, he didn't have to return—she hadn't expected him to—but he had.
Now he was about to have dinner with her—alone when he could be elsewhere—in a room that he'd ordered to be made comfortable for her.
Hitomi's hair stood on end as, yet again, her body electrified and her heart pounded in her ears.
She could not avoid the likely truth any longer, and she was very grateful to be sitting down as realization washed over her: her husband, Van Fanel, wanted to be with her.