Amare Dividere
Title: Whispered Words 24/30
Series: Vision of Escaflowne
Rating: PG-13 for some violence.
The robes are lighter when made into her size, Hitomi finds, and the festival has the castle and the temple festooned beautifully in winter flowers and in dark greens that grow all year long. "You seem to be enjoying looking," Hitomi says teasingly as the two of them head up the brushed clean walkway towards the temple for the first day of the ceremony.
The snow on either side is nearly knee deep, and Van had covered her shoulders with a thick fur before they left the castle. "Are you warm enough, my queen?" he asks.
"I told you not to call me that."
Van smiles, threading his fingers through hers and drawing her hand up to his lips. "It is the truth," he says, kissing her knuckles. "You are my queen."
"It just sounds so strange, Van. I have a name… and no one but you and Merle ever uses it anymore." Hitomi keeps the fur closed tightly around her shoulders with her other gloved hand, thankful for its warmth in the cold of the winter in Fanelia.
"They aren't allowed to," Van says easily as they make their way up the steps at the rear of the castle that lead to the plateau of the hill behind it. "It's disrespectful."
Hitomi looks at him for a long moment. "I'm just like the people you're talking about, I'm not a noble. I'm not even sure I understand what makes someone noble… it's not something that you should be able to be born into, if you ask me."
Van is silent a long moment, and tucks her hand in his arm. "I agree with you," he glances at her. "And me?"
"What about you?" Hitomi asks, moving carefully on the stones. She is mindful of what falling could do to the baby, and how tired her swollen ankles can get. But she agreed to accompany Van, the long way, to the first of the festival ceremonies, and nothing will make her back out now.
"Have I earned my title?"
Blinking, she tightens her hand on his arm. "Of course you have, Van… when I think of all you went through in the last war…"
"All we went through." He covers her hand with his other one and strokes the back of it through the gloves they are both wearing. "You were there too. And you worked just as hard. Arik was right when she said that you saved Gaea, Hitomi. Without you, Dornkirk's machine would have destroyed us all… and it's just in our nature to fight. So nothing would've stopped us… except you."
Blushing slightly, Hitomi glances at him, "You had a part in that too, if I recall properly."
"You do."
Van does not add that without her, Dornkirk's machine would not have worked at all… it was something he had only found out much later. And both he and Merle had decided that it was nothing that Hitomi ever needed to know about.
The top of the plateau stretches out before them as they reach the top of the steps, and Hitomi smiles as she is, again, greeted by a crowd of Fanelian well-wishers. "It wasn't anything special."
Van chuckles as he starts across the flat expanse with her, on the way to the festival in the temple, and only says, "Right."
Word reaches the palace in Freid that Norte's attack has been repulsed, and Chid relaxes to hear the news. Hathei is not present, only a messenger swathed in the icy mud stains of the passes where the fighting was happening.
"That was too easy," Fariah says, pacing the dining room behind Chid's chair. The young Duke gently waves away the messenger that Hathei sent. The general decided to wait until he could certain no retaliation before returning to the ceremonies and festivities in the palace.
"You said this was not your strong suit," Chid offers as he turns slightly to watch her pace. "Why do you think it was too easy?" Chid asks, returning to his breakfast. The end of the festival is nearing, and the celebrations are tapering off so that the participants will be properly rested for the final evening of ceremony.
With a tight grimace, Fariah lets a hand fall on the hilt her sword, reassured by its solid weight. "Because from the description of the general Hathei fought against, he was Lishard."
"You know men from Norte?"
"I know men from every country on Gaea, my Duke," Fariah replies in an absent, cross voice as she paces. "Lishard… does not take failure well. If he retreated from that battle… there was another reason for his retreat."
"We will find out when Hathei returns. Our borders have held, is that not enough?" Chid asks, eating his food and disregarding the distress of his bodyguard. The other guards in the large dining room stand at relaxed attention as he eats, the morning sunlight streaming in through the large windows that line the two longer walls of the room.
"Somewhere there are people suffering because of whatever Norte is doing now. Somewhere there are people dead or hungry and cold." Fariah feels the tension across her shoulders, and tries her best not to snap at Chid for what weight he cannot feel on his shoulders that she does. She stops her pacing near one of the windows and leans against the ledge, her hands braced on cold stone, and lets her eyes wander, again, to the intricate carvings of the palace stone, knowing it will calm her down.
Chid sets down his utensils and turns to look at Fariah. "That somewhere, for the moment, is not here. I will contact my aunt in Asturia and see what can be done about Norte. Freid does not have a mighty army to fight such a strong foe."
"It does not take an army to do something like that. Norte is not even as warring a country as Zaibach was…" Fariah widens her eyes and stands up straight quickly.
"Zaibach," Chid says in a soft voice, glancing down at his plate.
"And Zaibach crumbled when Dornkirk was killed."
"It was a little more complicated than that," Chid says, turning his eyes towards his breakfast once more.
"I have to get word to my mother," Fariah says, beginning to pace once more.
"You said that your mother was a disgrace… that she…"
"My family believes in destiny, my Duke," she stops where she can see him and turns her gray eyes on him. "Not a destiny that is unchanging… but one that you can affect. My mother's eyes have always been more open to that than my own. I am, after all, a child."
"But what changes your mind so swiftly?" Chid asks, looking over at her. "People have told me that I am a child as well, but it does not change the fact that I am a ruler. Or that I have made hard decisions."
Fariah presses her lips together in a thin line. "I am not disputing that. You stand well in the duties that are tethered around your neck. You are a good Duke, and you have the support of your people, when you otherwise might not have. What I mean is that I cannot… or rather I will not leave you in order to do what must be done to end this war. That is my duty. It is not the same for my mother. She has already been freed from her obligation… however disgracefully it sits with me, it is still the truth."
"So?"
"She is free to end the war. Perhaps she has already figured out how it must be done… or perhaps not. Even if she has, I want her to know that I support her… in the end."
"You think she will die because of this?" Chid gently sets down his silver wear, his over-serious expression fixed on his lips.
"Folken, who killed Dornkirk, perished in the act. I can expect no less in this case," Fariah says, turning from the look of maturity being weighed against her.
"And yet you would send your mother to such a fate? Why?"
Feeling a little ill, Fariah turns back to look at Chid, framed by the carved stone of the open-aired dining room on the chill morning. She swallows the lump she feels growing in her throat. "So that you will not have to worry about the suffering people."
Chid pushes his chair back and rises, breakfast forgotten in their conversation. "You draft your letter. I will draft mine."
After what seems an eternity to her, Celena and the doctor both proclaim that Eries is again allowed to get out of bed on her own, but must wait before doing things too strenuous, or talking too much. Outside, the winter-spring has melted away into true spring, a late, damp one, and the birds and flowers hide from the chill rains.
"For how long?" she asks in the least painful voice she can manage. It is very soft, whispering almost, but also disturbingly commanding. Since waking, she has been kept informed of the events of the war, and the news of the council, but she has kept herself aloof of them. Since Dryden has not sought her out, she has seen no reason to do likewise to him. And Allen has been good at reporting to her, if a little reluctant.
"A month. You still could tear the wound back open," the doctor cautions. "That would be-"
"What is strenuous about being a princess?" Eries asks, rising onto unsteady legs. Celena offers her a strong arm to lean against. "I want to bathe. Really bathe… and then I want to speak with the advisors."
"The king as well, princess?" Celena asks, fixing a robe across her shoulders and helping her towards the bathing room towards the back of her suite. A familiar pastime, but much different now that the princess is doing more than returning to bed.
Eries considers for a long moment. 'Surely… Dryden did not mean for me to be hurt…' She squares her shoulders and forces herself to walk more evenly towards the room. "Him as well."
Celena nods her head, and the doctor steps over to assist Eries towards her bath. "I will go right away," Celena says, heading for the door of the room.
Allen, waiting outside, almost knocks his sister over as she comes out, and his expression is pained and hopeful at the same time. "Well?"
"She is up and moving about, and will dress shortly," Celena says, motioning the ladies in waiting in to do their jobs. "But she's taking a bath at the moment. So you may as well just do something else. Let her feel a little more human."
He starts to frown and then glances at Celena. "Where are you going? Should you not attend her?"
"I am to inform the king and the advisors that she is calling a meeting," Celena says, hoping that her brother will do the reasonable thing and have real words with her about this. The trepidation in the princess's face when she thought of calling the king to the meeting as well…
"So soon?"
"If you were her," Celena asks softly, "and had been in bed for a month, would you think it was soon to be doing this?"
"She should take some time to get her strength back. They are merciless…"
"Then you should tell her that. Because it is not my place to do so."
"What do you mean by that?"
"She is your fiancé, brother," Celena watches Allen's face to gauge his reaction. They have not before spoken of it between them. It is something she has not felt he will take well. Knowing that she knows.
"It is not exactly how you think it is," Allen says with a blank expression on his face. "The princess and I…"
"Regardless," Celena says, "she will respond better to you saying what you think than she will to me saying the same thing." She shifts and inches around her brother. "Now if you will excuse me…"
"Let me talk to her before you do that," Allen says, catching her arm before awkwardly stepping towards the door.
"Brother!" Celena chides. "She isn't decent."
"Tell her I would like to speak with her before you call that meeting," Allen replies with a roll of his eyes. "I am not so dishonorable in regards to her as all that."
Gayo and Sierra, the Duke and Duchess, are locked in the lowest dungeon in the remains of the old capital city that was abandoned after Dornkirk's death, and left with a small set of guards while Ouran's men took the new capital city and placed another man on the Duke's throne.
But Ouran pays little attention to such things as these, because his son has returned to him. "What news of Zaibach?" Ouran asks, a grin on his lips. He had thought that there was little chance of Sotet returning to him, but word had just come by messenger from him that he was on his way.
"The Duke and Duchess are imprisoned, and there is little panic among the people. They are apparently used to such quick change."
Privately, Aden thinks that Zaibach should be left alone. The people had never asked to be so war-like, simply not to be such victims. And they were used because of such an innocent wish. He sighs, inwardly.
Always inwardly.
Van and Hitomi are having afternoon tea with the Egzardian king and queen when the word comes. Hitomi sets down her cup, and Benanoir reaches over for Inah's hand. "It is certain that Zaibach has fallen?" Van asks Merle, who stands with squared shoulders, the bearer of the news she has just received from the Compound.
Merle nods. "Without a doubt. The land is still at peace, but there is someone else on the throne."
"Kira," Hitomi says softly.
Inah nods slowly. "The Basram princess… her older sister was the Duchess of Zaibach."
"Kira is princess of Cesario now," Benanoir corrects. "Marriage notice was sent, if you recall."
"Please, sit and have a drink, Merle," Hitomi says, one hand straying to her stomach. Her other arm lies on the arm rest, and Van reaches over to take it reassuringly, as though he can hear her thoughts. His fingers thread through hers and she looks up to see his eyes. They twinkle softly, a twinge of melancholy in the red brown, and he lifts his hand to kiss the back of hers, speaking in a bare whisper. "It will be alright, Hitomi."
Merle takes a seat in a chair brought over to the table, and bows her head to Inah and Benanoir.
"It is a shame about Sierra though, she was always a nice and thoughtful woman. When the girls were born she was among the first to send us congratulations."
"She may not be dead," Merle says, sipping her tea and staring at it, astounded at Inah's apparent disregard of the war. But then, she recalls, some monarchs were like that. "It would be a terrible waste, especially when Norte has discovered the power of prisoners."
"But in Zaibach?" Van asked. "The people rolled over to the new leader. What good are ransomable persons when the people do not care to see them ransomed?"