Amare Dividere

Title: Comforts of Home and Family Part Seventeen
Series: Vision of Escaflowne
Rating: PG-13 for some violence.

As the airship departs to take Van and Arik to Fanelia, Chid glances at Fariah. The morning light catches her red hair, making it look like tendrils of fire confined in a braid down her back. "That woman looked very much like you," he says.

"Yes, she did," Fariah replies quietly. She does not want to admit to Chid that Arik is her father… because of some sense of shame at being related to a Kathis who would abandon their charge, but she knows there is no use lying to him. "From what I have seen of the paintings, you look much like your mother as well."

"You said that we all had mothers. Was she yours?" Chid asks, intrigued. Fariah never speaks of her family, or of where she and the other Kathis come from.

While it has never bothered Chid, it also does not make him feel entirely comfortable. In the months Fariah has been in Freid, she has learned much of him. Fariah nods. Chid did not know that all the Kathis knew more of him than even he did himself. It was a small measure of consolation that she was giving him less information than she knew of him. But the cruel thought disturbs her, for some reason. While doubtful of the need for her, Chid had never been cruel to her… or deserving of such hurtful thoughts.

"But if she was your mother… was she not also a Kathis? I have never before seen her with Lord Van. It would be someone he had known for a long time, would it not?"

Again, Fariah nods.

"My mother is not the Fanelian Kathis. She was stationed in Ispano, before the country fell to Norte. She left her charge, by his command, to return a debt owed to the Fanelian King. I do not understand it, nor do I approve of it."

"Why do you think so badly of her for such things?" Chid asks, a frown threatening on his pale face. Family, in his experience, has always been more important than argument. His aunts had shown that quite well. He knows that his family does not always get along, but, perhaps because of Asturian pride, they never share their anger with the public, and always support one another, in the end.

"Because if my mother left her charge's side, for whatever reason, she is disregarding a duty that she should not have. It is one that we are all made aware of, and she has apparently decided is not worth completing."

"What duty is that?" Chid asks, offering Fariah a confused and innocent look.

Fariah opens her mouth to reply, but looking at Chid, she finds that she cannot. He is too young to think of things like marriage and heirs. "I will tell you another time," she says, glancing at the sun in the sky. "It is almost time for your morning audience. Shall we?"

Again alone standing in the corner of the full dining room, Merle's quick eyes watch Hitomi closely as the queen and her friend holds evening meal with her guests. To Hitomi's credit, in Merle's eyes, the blond woman little betrays either her condition or her longing for the absent King.

"Lady Queen," Quivel says, speaking up for the first time that evening. The hall had been nearly silent, since Hitomi was initiating no conversation all others had kept theirs to a polite and quiet murmur out of respect.

"Yes, princess?" Hitomi replies, turning her compassionate green eyes on the youngest daughter of the refugees.

"I never was given the opportunity to thank you… for the lives of myself and my family," she says, eyes staring down at her plate. "You should know how grateful we are."

"I do not require such shows of gratitude," Hitomi says, her voice sounding foreign and very formal to her own ears. "It is what Van would do, were he here."

"Not everyone thinks so," Benanoir says, speaking up. "Your borders are not unreachable from Norte's troops."

Merle's ear pricks towards the door. A breathless messenger, running messenger approaches.

"This is true, however…" Hitomi says, cut off by the entrance of the messenger admitted warily by the guards.

"Forgive the intrusion, highness, honored guests, but a ship approaches from Freid. It looks to land at a safe distance from the castle. The captain of the guard said that I should come to inform you of it immediately."

"I thank you," Hitomi replies, turning to smile at the man, who bows deeply. She is not nearly as calm as she looks. Her heart is thudding in her chest. From Freid? Why would Chid send word unless… unless Van… she can hardly believe it, and relief floods her body, muscles relaxing as she sits back against her chair. That had been the direction she had felt the urge to go in when she saw the light… it can only be him.

"Lady Queen?" Benanoir asks.

"It is news long coming," Hitomi replies, her smile softer as she stiffens her spine and returns to the meal at hand. She glances towards Merle where the cat woman stands in the corner, and is surprised to find her old friend frowning slightly. Her expression sobers as she sees that. Hope is one thing, she reminds herself, but reality another.

The world is at war, and there are other reasons to send an aiship.

"Do you not wish to see your wife, king?" Arik spits out as the airship makes its descent outside the castle and a distance from the city. It is impossible to fathom why Van would do such a thing instead of landing nearer the city and the palace. She feels like pacing, except that Van does not show such signs of anxiousness.

"I do not wish us shot down," Van replies evenly. "I made sure that Hitomi would be well guarded in my absence. I would like to live to see her again and not die in an accidental attack by my own people."

"It is time for the evening meal. There is little that would stop us. The castle will be at peace at the moment. Defenses slacken during meal time."

"Word will reach the castle," Van says with a shake of his head. He turns to look out the window of the cabin at the city below, and feels the ache in his heart. "Hitomi will know."

It was her idea to remove the King and the Crown Prince from the capital to take some time to themselves. To let father and son be a family again, even if her sister were not present. There was only one place she could really think of taking them. And so Eries has kept Dryden and Exeter in Thera for nearly a week, enjoying the pleasant smiles on their faces, when the first dark cloud passes over the field the three of them are enjoying themselves in. Seated beneath a tree in the shade, hidden from the brightest of the sunlight, Eries gets a better view of the shape that makes the shadow.

The Crusade.

'This afternoon,' Eries thinks to herself, her first instinct to gather Exeter and Dryden and depart for the palace in the city. 'They deserve this happiness a little while longer. If Allen has failed…'

She shakes her head, veiled face etched with sadness beneath the thin covering, and settles her hands in her lap, taking as much joy from seeing her sister's family relaxing as she can.

'If Allen has failed then there is much that will need to be done, and this may be the last time I leisure here in the fields of Thera. If he has not… then this may be of my last days as the princess I grew up as.'

"This attack was planned," Ouran growls, stomping in a pace across his throne room.

Aden, standing in the corner, looks grim, but not too grim. He would laugh if he were not so concerned. Most attacks were planned.

Several advisors litter the floor, kneeling in obeisance to their king.

"Someone knows. Someone knows she is here."

"The world knows," Aden retorts, his soul twisting in his body at the defiance. The collar around his neck burns painfully. "You told them. You were the one who sent word to Asturia that the Queen was taken. You were the only monarch not in attendance at the celebration. It was only a matter of time before they figured it out."

"You speak when spoken to!" Ouran snaps, hand flying in Aden's direction.

Aden's head snaps to the side, jaw snapping open and shut on his tongue, and he smarts for a long moment, staring at the black draped walls of the throne room as the wave of pain passes over him and he lets it go. Ouran has kept up the hangings of mourning for the late queen, claiming to the people to still be in mourning for his dead wife.

But Aden knows different. Aden knows better. He watched, helpless, when the queen had been killed at Ouran's hands. He tastes blood in his mouth from his tongue. It had nearly killed him to see it done to her, and if it had not been for the collar that hhe wore, even then…

There is the noise of leather straining as those same hands ball in anger. An advisor chances to speak up. "On another note, sire, the troops are in position to invade Zaibach."

Ouran nods, a little mollified at the concept. "Then send word for the attack to begin immediately. And find out who is responsible for that attack… the leader was wearing blue. That must mean something."

In his corner, Aden's lips curl in a smile. He knows exactly what it means that the leader was wearing blue. He had been watching when Ouran had angrily entered the fray and crossed blades with the angry swordsman. And he knew, from the hidden Queen's reaction, that it was a rescue attempt on her.

So it could only be the Queen's Champion.

With a smile on his lips he thinks the name to himself. The polite man who had apologized to his sister. 'Allen Schezar.'

He had managed to slip the knight and his kindred from the castle, unwilling to watch Ouran have them tortured once he had overcome the outnumbered attackers, and had, instead, stripped the bodies of killed castle guards and passed them off into the burn pile with hissing words that the enemy had met their match.

He was unsure, however, how long his trick would work on Ouran, who had been present.

Jasper sits quietly, watching over his sleeping wife with worried, loving eyes, their child sleeping soundly at its mother's side. Fondly, he thinks that the birth had simply worn the two of them out. "How long will she be like this?" he asks quietly of Nil, who stands, weary, in her customary place at the door.

"I cannot guarantee her life," Nil says, voice weary but much recovered from her exertions previously. She finds it harder to stay as awake as she has, wanting, longing to curl up and sleep as the princess is with her child.

She shakes her head. Jasper's child. Kira's child.

Not her own.

Her own… she closes her eyes. Yes, Selassie is fine. Beautiful, competent Selassie. Her own child.

Jasper restrains himself from snapping that she has to, knowing that if it were in her power, Nil would do just that. "You have been weary lately."

"I have a job to do," the black haired woman says with a stubborn tilt to the lips in her weary face.

"Which you cannot do if you are dead, Nil." Jasper stands, crossing to stand beside her, putting a gentle hand up to turn her shoulder so that she is facing him. The wane sunlight of the season catches his green eyes as he looks down at her, his own dark hair back from his pale forehead. "You have done much already. You were kidnapped, overcome somehow… a thing you will not talk to me about. That frightens me, you know. You always could tell me everything, before."

"There are some things that are not your concern," Nil replies, brown eyes half lidded and looking down. It is just so hard to stay awake… so hard.

"I care about you, Nil. Nileyah. You were my first friend growing up. You have been the only thing protecting me as long as I can remember… even without a father, with a grieving mother… you have always been there for me. Let me be there for you this one time. Let me help."

"It was not so much torture as confinement, Jasper," Nil says, opening her eyes to look honestly up at him.

"But your… hair, your wrists… what…"

"That was an extenuating situation," Nil says. "Other than that I was just chained… and humiliated. I will speak no more on this matter. It is nothing you need to know… Jasper."

Unwillingly, almost, a smile comes to his lips. "You have not called me anything but 'highness' and 'prince' in many months."

Nil offers no reply.

"The Freidan airship has landed on the hill at the top of the valley, your highness," Peralis says, kneeling before Hitomi in the chapel. The Queen retired there after the interruption to the evening meal when the news had come to them in. "What shall we do?"

She is suddenly a little worried at Van's reaction, a little frightened of what he will say. Merle watches her closely. There is nothing to be done about it now. What has not happened cannot be rushed. The cat woman stands erect, fingers flexing slightly.

Hitomi does not speak to Peralis, instead turning to Merle. She does not know what to say to Peralis… how to make him understand what she knows… or even why she truly wants Van so badly. "Take a squadron of our guard, bearing the Fanelian colors, and ride to meet the airship. You will want to take an extra horse with you."

"Majesty?" Peralis asks, glancing up from his view of the stone floor of the chapel. "Are you so certain it is Lord Van?"

"With all my heart," she replies, turning from the two of them to look at the face of the alter where it rises up towards the top of the chapel. She puts a hand to her stomach. "Please, go bring my husband home to the castle."

Merle smiles, bowing her head sharply and turning as Peralis rises, to head back down towards the castle to collect the men to ride with her.

The chief advisor follows the cat woman as she makes her exit from the chapel. "And you, Lady Merle?" Peralis asks, moving quickly to stay on her heels. "Are you so certain?"

"There is other reason for Freid to send an airship?" Merle asks. "You see another cause for such swift transit to Fanelia?"

Peralis starts to speak, but the older Chief Royal Advisor can find no words to make with his mouth and pauses, allowing Merle to leave him behind, heading down the steps of the walkway with more of a skip in her step.

"The hour of dinner is passed, is it not?" Arik asks, still anxious at the waiting. Finally, she has begun to pace the small deck of the airship in frustration. It seems like forever since they landed, though she logically knows it cannot have been more than an hour or so. What is taking so long?

"Calm yourself," Van says in a gentle voice, watching as mounted figures make their way up the path towards them. "Our escort is on its way." He turns, a relaxed smile on his face, and disembarks the airship, descending the ramp to stand waiting on the riders with the small knot of Freidan honor guard Chid had sent with them.

Van's heart lifts a little at the waving pink hair of the lead rider as he steps down onto the ground from the gang plank in the waning light of the evening. "Merle," he says in a soft voice as the riders near them.

Arik steps down at his shoulder and braces herself tensely, tightening the hand on the sword at her hip. There is nothing she can really do, given the circumstances, and Van's willingness to present his throat to his own guard for the kill-strike, but if it comes down to someone attacking, she knows, given all the practice fighting she had done in the last week, she will be ready. Swordplay, for someone with her talent and skill, was like riding a horse. Occassionally the horse got a little angry, but most often they were all the same.

"Calm down, Arik," Van says, noticing her discomfort, "You remember Merle."

"This is true. But it feels wrong. This entire procession feels wrong."

Merle rides up to where the two of them had disembarked the ship with the small group of Freidan guards, and dismounts. The group of Fanelian guards pauses just beyond her, not dismounting, but instead sitting stoically on their horses. Merle had warned them that if it were a Doppler, the King would look the same, but truly be a different person.

"Merle," Van says, taking a step towards her.

"Is it really you?" Merle asks in a quiet voice. She glances her bright eyes at Arik and nods to the woman before leveling her gaze once again at Van. Arik will not interfere, she knows, not in this.

"Why would you ask a thing like that?"

"It was a Doppler who helped Millerna get kidnapped," Merle says.

"What does that have to do with me?" Van asks, confused.

"I cannot be sure that you are who you claim to be." Merle slowly draws her sword from her sword belt. Arik holds her breath, waiting for Van's reaction to being challenged. It was an honest question to ask, given the state of things… given that it was likely Aden who… impersonated Millerna.

It would not be so hard for him to impersonate a man like Van.

The king's heart was mostly on his sleeve, since she had seen him without Hitomi nearby. His queen had a way of tempering his kind heart and making it more protective and secretive. She was a good influence on him.

"Merle!" Van snaps.

The guard, still seated on their horses, share tense looks. If it is the king… and he is angry and is proven to be himself… what happens to those who doubted? Lady Merle is beyond reproach, being over-protective is her duty… but just following orders in wartime was often not good enough, some of them have heard.

"The real Lord Van is the only one who has ever beaten me with a sword." Arik's eyes widen at that admission. If Van had beaten Merle with a sword… she thinks back to her sparring with him. He had been evenly matched against her. He was also Draconian. If he had beaten Merle before…

He was likely better than the Kathis sword play altogether.

"And if you are who the Doppler was in Asturia… then I will know you by this." Reaching back, she grabs a second sword that she strapped to her saddle before leaving the castle and tosses it to Van.

"Merle… What's changed?" he asks, catching the sword and gazing at her with confusion in his red brown eyes.

"I am protecting my queen," Merle replies with an intense strength in her pale eyes as she slowly draws her sword. "As I protect my king. And if you really are Lord Van, you will understand why it is so important that I test you now."

It takes a long moment to decide and to swallow the concept, but finally, Van nods and draws the sword he has been given. He nods his head to Merle and the two of them begin to fight.

Arik watches him closely, letting out her held breath, eyes following the same movements that would have disarmed her in the end, had they continued the spar, watching as Van fights much more ferociously than he had when fighting her, and sees the lines of grim determination on both the king and the bodyguard's faces as they dance amid the clash of steel in the lengthening shadows of the evening.

How many times have they done this? Arik wonders to herself as sparks fly from the two swords. How often did sword clatter against sword and the two friends face off in this manner?

None, she figures, like this, however often it was.

Finally, the sword flies from Merle's hand and Van lifts his sword to point at her throat. There is sweat on his brow, matting his dark hair to his forehead, and, just as hers, his breath comes in pants.

In the red glow of the sunset, Van's eyes appear to be ablaze, his complexion more alive and his hair darker, somehow. "Now do you believe me?" Van asks.

Merle bows her head, lowering herself to one knee. The guards, Arik sees, dismount and follow suit. Merle speaks, her shoulders rising and falling with her heavy breathing, but Arik does not care to make out what she says, instead regarding the scene in the glow of the moonlight as the two moons rise over the hills.

"Dragons live in the mountains," Haruth had always said to her when she asked about his family and the sister that he had watched walk out of their small village, "in the land where your aunt has gone to her man. Creatures that know the difference between a soul in peace and a soul in peril. They are what was first created when the Atlanateans came to Gaea. The Dragons were creatures they endowed with their greatest wisdom. And so I do not fear for my sister Varie. She is as safe and as loved there as she would be here."

There seems, to Arik, to be a rumble from the distance, and she shifts closer to Van. What would the dragons have to say of her soul? Of her heart?

"Get up, Merle," Van says in an almost agitated voice before turning to the Freidan guards. "I could ask for no more from you than a safe journey home. Please send the regard of Fanelia, and the gratitude of its King to your Duke."

The head of the Freidan guard bows his head, and the four sturdy men turn and head silently up the gangplank before Van turns back to the guards, crossing to pass Merle, who stands up slowly, Arik snapping back to attention to follow him as he enters the line of horses and heads towards the back.

"Let's get back to the castle before anything else happens," Van says, putting a foot in the stirrup and leaping astride his dark horse. "I've been long enough from home."

A/N: I apologize for the lateness of this particular post. I intended to put it up on Friday, but the real world intruded.