Title: Snowy Pass 25/30

Series: Vision of Escaflowne

Rating: PG-13, just in general at this point.

The ride through the mountains is slow going, after her meeting, but there are no more road blocks. The path seems blissfully clear despite the soldiers that she expects are lurking about. Not much stands in the way of a dragon, Arik realizes, soothing her mount.

And if the queen dragon has granted you passage…

At her back she can hear the festive music of a small village, and knows that it is likely about time for the winter festival in Fanelia. Her father's people had a similar one that she remembers from when she was very young.

It is late in the evening, and she is considering finding her own shelter somewhere nearby when she is surprised to come across another traveler, covered tightly in a cloak and huddled on the back of a horse. He does not appear to be heading for Fanelia, or coming from Asturia…

"Hello," Arik calls through the blowing snowstorm.

The other rider perks up at the words, and turns their head back and forth in an attempt to find the speaker. When the rider does see the other, the mount approaches. "Hello," comes the reply of a masculine voice.

"I didn't expect to see anyone else on this path," Arik says, pulling her hood back from her face some.

When the other rider does, she is amazed at who she sees. "I wasn't entirely sure where I would end up, I have been riding-"

"Sotet?" Arik asks, feeling tension moving up her back.

He nods. "How do you-?"

"I am Arik," she says, "in exile from the Consortium."

"I've never really cared what they said about who was exiled and who wasn't. Seeing how I'm not their biggest accomplishment myself."

She relaxes some. "I can understand that. Let's get out of the snow some, and we can talk for a bit."

He nods. "Lead the way."

The white of the snow blurs out the shapes that are watching the two of them from the rocks above, and Arik ignores the feeling of being watched, hoping only that her immunity extends to Sotet as well. After a short ride, she finds a cave that appears to be far enough recessed into the mountain that there is no snow on the inside of it, and she guides her horse towards it.

Sotet follows, a tall, dark mark in the falling snow behind her, and shortly enough, the two of them are inside the cave. Dismounting, Arik unstraps her belongings from the horse and sets them on the ground.

"I don't know what we're going to do for firewood," she says to Sotet conversationally. "The snow has been falling in the mountains for quite some time."

He dismounts as well, heading towards the back of the cave by the feel of his hands, and kicks something that sounds wooden enough. Bending, he picks it up, pleased to find that it is an old tree of some sort. "I think I found something back here," he says, dragging it forward towards where the horses are waiting.

"Good, start breaking it up and I'll grab the flints from my pack."

Watching her silhouette in the darkness, Sotet can't help but smile. He hadn't been sure why Selassie had said to him that he should find her, when she did, but the quick handling of the situation in the snow gives him an inkling of it. "Selassie was right to tell me to keep an eye out for you if I needed any help."

"What?" Arik pauses, her silhouette stilling in profile to him.

Sotet starts breaking the dried tree into pieces, carefully, and continues, puzzled at the slight roundness to her stomach. "She said you would be a useful ally if I needed one."

"Why would she say something like that?" Arik asks, continuing to take the saddle off her horse. "I'm an exile from the Consortium. What good do you expect will come from me now?"

"She said that you held the ways of the Consortium in better trust than some members that shun you for it." They weren't exactly Selassie's words, but he had sensed they were along her intent. "Besides, like I said before… I don't really care what they think. Selassie said that you would be a good person to talk to, if I could run across you. I trust her mind more than I trust the Consortium's exile."

"Found them," Arik says, pulling two dark stones out from her pack of things.

With a sigh, he brings some of the broken wood over to the center of the cave and digs a small pit with it. Putting the pieces of wood in it, he searches around for some tinder.

Arik shakes her head once and removes the sticks from the pit, reaching into her pack to take out the kindling she brought with her, and sparks a small fire onto it. "When you're making a fire, you have to feed it slowly," she says, coaxing one of the large pieces of wood into it.

Turning, Sotet sees her face illuminated by the small fire, and feels how cold he was during the ride. "I think I'd be inspired to trust you even if she hadn't mentioned anything," he says, quite truthfully.

Looking up at him, Arik is confused. "Why do you say that?"

"Intuition, I guess," Sotet says. "Selassie is a beautiful and smart girl, but-"

"She's a young woman," Arik corrects. "The two of you grew up in more the same way than the others."

"But her reassurances aren't enough to make me want to trust someone if I'm given the wrong impression of them." He rubs his arms a moment before reaching over to gather up the blanket from his belongings. "I don't care what the Consortium thinks about a lot of things. Least of all you."

"That's surprising, considering what mother said about me to everyone."

"Mother?" Sotet asks, completely surprised to hear that word come from Arik's lips.

"Mot," Arik corrects herself. "She told everyone that I was a betrayal of all we hold dear. That I should not be trusted. My own daughter said as much and may as well have spit in my face."

"She never treated you like a daughter, that I saw."

"It is the way of the Kathis with their obligation-child," Arik says. "Though I did not see fit to treat Fariah as nothing to me. And neither did my cousins and kinspeople."

"Then all the others…"

"Nileyah, Aden, Mahn, Chiye, all those of my age group decided that it would be better to feel like a family than a single person. So when we were forced to chose someone to make a child with, we were certain to chose someone we cared for. Someone who could care for a child regardless of how it was gotten. And so our children were loved by both their parents, and raised by everyone who had agreed to do the same thing."

"It is forbidden."

"Mot forbids many things. She forbade Selassie from venturing from the Compound. She said Selassie could not blend in with the people of Gaea and would be hindered. She kept you at her side instead of allowing you to grow as the other children were."

"It was for our own protection," Sotet says, knowing his words sound hollow in the cave.

"What protection did she truly afford you? You were born to be either a prince or a guardian. A very dual expectation, but neither of those did she truly prepare you for, did she?" Arik reaches into her bag and retrieves some of the food that she was sent with, beginning to warm it over the fire with a careful stick.

"You're right, I guess," Sotet admits sullenly. "And now they've sent me to Norte… to defeat my father."

Arik's arm tenses, and she almost drops the stick and surrenders the food to the fire. "Really?"

"It's why Selassie recommended you as an ally," Sotet says, looking at the flames. "She cares about me… and wants to be sure that I will return." He finds his angry feelings melt away a little at the thought of Selassie's blushing cheeks, and her quiet admission of her own intentions.

"What plan did she have in mind?"

Sotet lifts his eyes to his sister. "I am not entirely certain she had one, just that I should seek you out."

"Perhaps she did not have one at that moment," Arik says, a smile playing across her lips to see the fond look on her younger brother's face, "but she is in charge of strategy for the Consortium. I am certain there will come a time when what seed she has planted with us will come to fruition."

"She couldn't have meant you to come with me to Norte right away," Sotet says with a frown. "Ouran would know something was amiss if that happened."

"I do not intend to go with you to Norte," Arik says. "Not at this moment."

"Where do you go?"

"To Asturia," Arik says, stretching the food across to him. "To be of some help there." Sotet takes the food and watches her. "When the time comes, get word to me, brother, and I will make my way to you."

Perhaps it is the cold, Sotet thinks, the staggering displays of potential of the hearts of the women of the Consortium… but he feels warmer than the fire can possibly be making him at hearing a woman such as the one seated with him call him family. He nods, biting into the food that she has warmed for him, and thinks fondly on Selassie.

Very warm indeed.

Finally the Longest Night has come upon Fanelia. The night at the center of the mountain kingdom's year when there is more darkness than daylight, and the beginning of the end of the winter. The banquet hall is decked in the colors of the winter forests, and filled with nobles from outlying provinces and peasants from the capital. The doorways are ringed with guards, as are the battlements overhead.

Merle stands at the far side of the hall, watching those around her for any unfamiliar faces, and at the head table, seated next to Queen Inah of Egzardia, Hitomi watches Merle's defensive stance and the sword at her hip. Van has still not explained, to her satisfaction, what a Kathis is and does. She feels nervous about what will happen, and knows that she does not look her best.

Beside her, Inah offers a supportive smile, and encourages her to eat.

"I have an announcement," Van says, standing at the head banquet table in the warm room. The meal is well advanced and the drinks have been flowing. Hitomi, seated pale and quiet at his side, has refrained from the drinking.

Most of those present have not.

She looks up at her husband with a smile as the assembled lords and commoners make an effort to quiet down their carousing. 'This is it,' she thinks to herself. 'If I want to stop him, now is when I must.'

The hall finally stills itself to the noise of dogs eating greedily from full bowls and the crackle of the fire. Van glances down at Hitomi, and reaches a hand over. She takes it and squeezes his hand reassuringly.

"The Queen is with child," Van announces.

Before he can continue, there is a roar of approval. Cups are thrown high to the ceiling, the froth of the beverages spraying the owners and the seated alike, and a cheer spreads through the hall. Seated beside Hitomi, Inah's face spreads into an amused grin. Across the hall, Merle's alert eyes watch for those who may not be celebrating the announcement as cheerfully as the others.

Hitomi feels her cheeks flush as she watches the open, unrestrained joy of the people at the announcement, her eyes watering. Another unexpected response.

Van gently draws her to her feet and brushes the tears from her eyes.

The recovered cups are thumped on the table in a sign of approval. Hitomi finds herself blushing as she glances at some of the lords and sees the intent of their impromptu drum roll. But when Van tilts her face to his she does not protest, and lets her eyes slip shut as their lips meet.

There is a gentle noise from the women, and a cry of joy from the men. The noise of thudding cups is replaced by applauding hands and the music, which had died down for the announcement, is struck up again in a frenzy.

The rest of Van's carefully prepared speech, which Hitomi had been privy to, goes unsaid. Hours of pacing by candlelight when they both should have been sleeping for the festival duties went unslept, and all for nothing.

He pulls his face from the kiss and offers her the same charming grin that disarmed her in years past, and offers her a hand. "Can my lady Hitomi keep up still?" he asks with a half bow and a wink.

Unflinchingly, she places her hand in his, and he leads her down to the dance floor that is cleared of animals and milling people.

"Dancing," Arik says quietly to her mount as the two of them descend the mountains into Asturia. "There will be a great amount of dancing, likely in the castle. Van will announce that Hitomi is with child, and the celebration will continue for another week. If not longer."

The snow in the mountains is up half the beast's foreleg, and Arik is glad not to be walking. "And she will get a proper midwife now." Staring down at the shining jewel of Asturia, Arik sets her shoulders. "But their happiness is behind me, and secure where it ought to be. There are other things ahead."

The beast pricks its ears at the change of her voice on the wind and moves down the slope more swiftly in order to get out of the icy wind of the peaks.

"Palas looks a lot like the capital in Ispano, from this height. Shining and white. From above, you can see it from miles in any direction." Arik glances up. "If Norte retains control of Ispano… they will have airships. And guymelefs. I can only wonder why they have not used them before now. It was the advantage that brought the world to its knees in the last war."

The beast snorts the ice from its nostrils.

Arik reaches forward and pats its neck. "I will try to find a warm place for this evening. Tomorrow by midday, if we move quickly, we will be out of the snow and into the chill of the upper hills. But Asturia is thawing even now. And you will be warm soon."

Seated with her robe closed and the collar tucked high on the angry looking scar across from her neck, Eries nods to Celena that she may open the door and let Allen in.

"Leave us," Eries says once she meets Allen's eyes, her voice a fragile command. Curtsying, Celena nods and steps out of the room. "You have something you wish to say to me about my actions?"

"You should regain your strength before you meet with them," Allen says, standing rigid on the far side of the drawing room in her suite. There are chairs and couches around the edges and a large table in the center with flowers on it.

"I am strong enough," Eries says, rising half to her shaky feet. The presence of him in the room… alone with her in the room, is disarming. His intent look at her… the feeling of his eyes… what strength she normally has against his charms is eroded by her body's clinging lethargy.

"You know that if they see you weak like this they will eat you alive," Allen says, restraining his urge to cross and support her, eyes following the telltale signs of weakness in her body like a hawk watching prety.

She takes a step forward, forcing it to be as smooth as she can make it. "I am not weak."

"No, you are not," Allen says, stepping closer in an effort to be on hand when she will inevitably topple over. "But," he begins, lifting a hand as she sways, "you are also not fully recovered."

Eries starts to protest, but Allen continues, and the vertigo of staying upright captures her. She sways on her feet, her knees shaking and weak.

"You forced me to stay in bed when I was not fit to be active," he says, catching her with a hand around her waist as she swoons. He draws her up against him gently.

She tugs at him, "Let go of me, Allen… it is not right…"

He leans back to meet her eyes. "When you were speechless…"

"We were betrothed once by people who were not us," she says, silently glad he has not let go of her. She is afraid her weak knees would give out if he did, and prove him right. "It is unfair to hold you to that. But you seem most persistent in it."

"You deserve better than me."

She swallows, painfully, and her eyelids flutter.

"Rest more," Allen says, stooping to lift her off her feet and heading back towards her bedroom. "We will talk on it later."

Gratefully, Eries reclines in his arms wordlessly, gazing up at his face, which she must admit to herself she has always found handsome, and he lays her on her bed. "And if there is no later to wait on, Allen?" she asks softly. "If there is only war and kidnappings and fear?"

"Nothing that violent is ever constant, princess," Allen says, drawing the blanket over her. "Rest." He leans down and kisses her forehead. "You will need it."

"Again," Nileyah says, her hair tied back and her eyes deadly serious as she stares at Jasper across her sword.

"I am tired."

"Better that you are used to finding strength now then," she replies, lifting his sword onto the toe of her shoe and flipping it up into the air. When it is obvious he has no intention of catching it, she does so herself and turns it towards him. "Again."

"Enough, Nil," Jasper says, taking the sword from her. There is the sound of gurgling from the corner of the room, and Jasper turns his head towards his son.

Nil lunges forward, her sword hovering inches from his throat. "And when the enemy is at your gates and your son is in danger and you turn from them and they do not hold where I do… then I will have another prince to raise."

With a growl, Jasper lifts his sword and shoves her blade out of the way. She falls back into an easy defensive stance and arches a brow at him.

Again the heir gurgles, but neither turn towards the sound.

"When will we say how far along I am?" Hitomi asks as Van leads her towards their rooms that evening.

"We may not have to," Van replies, fingers smoothing the robes and stroking her side comfortingly. "The festivities will continue, now…"

Hitomi cannot hold in a yawn at hearing that, a mortified one. "More festival?"

"A proper celebration is required to celebrate the announcement of your pregnancy," Van says with a smile, tightening his arm around her waist and pulling her against his side. "I would not have them dishonor the child or my wife."

"You get some sort of sick satisfaction out of seeing me half-awake, don't you?" Hitomi accuses, leaning her head against him. Even her hair feels tired. Her body feels weightless with the release of the country knowing, but a twinge of apprehension streaks across her shoulders.

"I am sure I don't know what you mean, Hitomi," Van says, the door to their chambers opened before them by the guards. He lifts a hand to her back and strokes her shoulders in the perfect place as the doors close behind them. "Now, let me get you out of those robes."

"They aren't as heavy as I thought they would be," Hitomi replies with a contented sigh. Van always knows how to touch her properly… how to be perfectly reassuring when she needs it. He gently begins undoing the ties to the thick robes she is wearing. She stands drowsy as he does so, and when he has peeled her out of her clothing, she steps over and pulls on the night gown the seamstress had made her, and heads over to the bed.

"Are you cold?" he asks, shrugging out of his own robes and stepping into his night clothes.

"This nightgown was not made for this weather… and your floor is rock. And rock is cold!"

"Our floor," he corrects.

Hitomi, looking up at him from where she is curling up under the covers, glares at him. Van regards her with an even gaze, and Hitomi chuckles. "Sure, you're right, our floor."

Skan does not entirely trust the Ispanians. They are traders, mostly, and mechanics. They needed to fit into small places, they needed to be unimposing. And so, over the centuries, those who had lived in the Gap became the embodiment of what they needed. Strong magic, Skan knew, tended to affect the users as much as they affected the objects in question.

But the Ispanians are an entirely separate matter. Powerful minute magicians. Somehow, the few families in charge of interacting with Gaea proper had not undergone the same changes. Their magic was slightly different from the people who live in the Gap, but no less as intense. And Skan is not used to such power in such a small package. Tristan, on the other hand, is quite at ease with them. They are the people he had grown up with.

These are his people. And those who have not been taken as slaves have gone underground. It is why Norte had no airships and guymelefs such as Escaflowne to attack the world with, or too few to be of great use to Ouran. The smartest of the engineers and the maintenance crews had either gone underground or committed suicide. They would rather not be than be under the influence of such a tyrant as Ouran.

They simply refused.

And now they have their High Priest back, and nothing is stronger than a High Priest in his homeland, as far as they know. However, they are not aware that the strength of the priest comes from his people. Those who had died were old and had much power in them. So while Tristan is stronger than the forces of the invaders, who seemed far too numerable for such a small country, he is not as strong as he had been shortly after his mother's death.

"What we have to do," Tristan says as the group of leaders of the hidden ones sit around the little fire in the cave he and Skan occupy, "is to find out where the strength of the invaders comes from. There must be someone who is quite powerful backing the Norte king if he manages to hold us all so oppressed."

There are nods, and the hidden ones head out of the cave with respectful bows at the High Priest.

Skan gives Tristan an incredulous look. He is picking up more and more of the halting language that Tristan seems intent on using, though he prefers his own more liquid tongue to it any day. He understands what Tristan's meeting has been about. He just doesn't agree with it. He is not nearly as sure as Tristan that it is right to put so many people in danger.

But he does not know how to properly convey what he is thinking. And so he simply maintains his patient expression and waits for the proper opportunity.

Arriving in Palas, Arik heads for the palace without much more of a sidetrack than to put her horse in a stable for the evening. If all goes well… she shrugs. In her satchel is a letter that Hitomi and Van had written to introduce her properly to Eries and Dryden. It was addressed, however, with a second letter specifically to Allen.

Hitomi had felt very bad when she heard that Eries was hurt, more so than when she heard the Millerna had been kidnapped. Millerna had always been strong during adventures, and what little Hitomi had seen of her during the anniversary celebration led her to believe that it had only hardened in her in her age.

The only other stop that Arik makes is to a bath house, where she changes from her traveling clothes and makes herself look much more presentable. After speaking with Fariah, she knew of the fight between her daughter and the Senior Knight. She did not want to remind him too much of the girl he had crossed swords with.

As she leaves the bathhouse, she straps her own sword to her back and braids her hair, heading up the streets towards the palace. She is received at the door by one of the guards and let into a waiting room that includes peasants and servants waiting on various errands.

She stands prouder than they, and more finely dressed, thanks to Fanelia. She waits patiently, standing near one of the arches as the flow of people move around her, until finally she is sought out among the crowd by a pale blond haired woman.

The young woman sweeps a curtsy, and Arik returns it with a formal bow. "I am Celena Schezar," the young woman says. "Chief Lady in Waiting to her highness, Princess Eries. She has been informed that you come with word from Fanelia."

Arik nods respectfully. "One piece of correspondence for the princess and the king, and another for Sir Schezar, my lady," she says.

Celena's brow furrows. "What word do you bring for him?"

"Whatever word their majesties from Fanelia saw fit to send," Arik replies in the same respectful voice. She removes the letters from her vest pocket. "Shall I wait here for the reply?"

"No," Celena says, "it is the habit of the princess to meet with those bearing correspondence to the family directly. She is in a meeting at the moment, but I am certain she will want to see you as soon as she is out. I will take you to her sitting room." She picks up her skirts. "Please, miss, follow me."