Beyond Aeaea
DISCLAIMER: The Vision of Escaflowne is not legally mine but the visions of this story are.
NOTE: Thanks for the reviews. I'm glad you like the story so far. This chapter will be a bit...descriptive. The rating may be higher. But most of the action is rather implied, glimpses of what happened in Aeaea. Hope you enjoy.
Chapter Three
"So is this your way of getting me back into your bed, Lord Folken?"
The Strategos of Zaibach turned with astonishment to see the stern, regal figure of Princess Eries Aston looking at him steadfastly. They were alone in one of King Aston's waiting rooms, a dark, cold place that suited them both. Her expression was the usual unreadable, passive one that everyone was most familiar with. But her eyes spoke volumes.
As he returned her gaze, Folken noticed that there was no contempt or ill will in those powerful eyes despite the question she had just posed. She seemed more curious (and slightly amused) than offended. And that was what surprised him the most.
Although of course, he didn't show it.
Some of the informal frankness that had been required of them in Aeaea was still left in her and she spoke with the openness of one who was acquainted with him more than as a princess and dignitary.
"If you must put it so bluntly, then, yes, I suppose this is my way of getting you back into my bed," he replied calmly, returning her gaze, "and back into my life as well."
She blinked at this although her face remained placid.
As they stood together there, face to face for the first time after two years, distinct memories flashed through their minds.
Limbs almost inextricably entwined, bodies writhing in passion in the flickering candle light.
Folken tried his best not to be distracted by those vivid images that had begun seeping through cracks of his subconscious. He needed to explain his reasons for the proposal.
She waited for his answer patiently, although not unperturbed. Similar images were appearing in her memory as well.
His face buried in her long, golden tresses, taking in her fragrance.
"You are, naturally, aware of the political advantages of such a match," he began on an awkward note.
"Of course," she answered curtly, "but I suspect that there's more to it than that. And that's what I want to know."
She narrowed her eyes at him warily.
"What value do I have in your life?" she asked pointedly.
Hands clasped, breaths mingled.
"More than your current estimation of yourself, I assure you," he answered calmly, "I know you very, very well."
"And I know just as much about you," she replied coolly, almost threateningly.
He gave a small, amused smile.
"I haven't forgotten," Folken replied.
It had been more than just physical longing. They had revealed to each other everything about themselves.
"And given such an intimate acquaintance," Folken continued, "we are the most suited to each other, even if no one else needs to know why."
"I can see that you missed me that much," she teased slightly, her eyes brightening for the briefest moment.
Folken could not find an immediate answer to that.
The scent of her, the sweet taste of her lips, the warmth and softness of her skin.
There was heat between them still. But they wore those masks which effectively hid all that they truly felt.
But her face grew serious again.
They both knew that useless emotions would only get in the way of the greater things that they were meant to do.
"You know more than anyone how important it is to stay focused," she told him, "you told me yourself that you were determined to see the Emperor's plan through, no matter what you needed to give up."
"But I don't need to give you up," he replied easily, "not if you can be instrumental to achieving that which I must."
"So you are using me?" she asked coldly, "and what makes you think I would consent to that?"
"You already did," he answered smoothly, "and you would never let yourself be used. You stand to gain from this yourself and that is why you agreed to it."
His words were the oil that was greasing the wheels of the transaction, if that was indeed what it was to be called.
She was not one to be coerced into a marriage for political reasons. If she did this, it was of her own accord, and not at her father's orders. She was not Marlene or Millerna.
Kisses raining on one another, whispered secrets.
In truth, she really was not averse to the idea. No, that would be an understatement.
He was probably the only man in the world she would ever consider marrying.
Strong arms wrapped around her, one warm and tender, another cold and metallic. But she didn't care. She needed that strange embrace.
And all that time in Aeaea, Allen Schezar was furthest from her mind. In fact, Eries seemed to have given up on all romantic feelings for him. He no longer mattered.
Eries wanted to marry Folken, more than she was willing to admit.
But she wasn't about to let this desire cloud her vision until she found out why he had really proposed. But so far, his explanations were satisfactory.
"If we do not become what we were to each other there then everything is meaningless," he said. She smiled.
"And what were we to one another then, pray tell?" she dared him, her eyes intense in their gaze.
He said nothing but gave her a significant glance.
"Do not delude yourself," she replied with cold amusement but weakening resolve, "we are no longer in Aeaea."
He could see the doubt in her eyes and he fully comprehended her position. But he was determined to reassure her of his true intentions or at least, what he believed them to be. It was, perhaps, one of those very rare occasions that he allowed Folken Fanel to run the life of the Strategos.
She was the only person who could read him so well. And after all that was shared in Aeaea, they had grown to know each other more than either of them had ever expected.
"Indeed we are not," he conceded, "but do we need to be?"
For a moment, she saw in those cold eyes, a spark of that fire that had consumed them both then. It was at that instant that she knew she was powerless to refuse her own urgent desires.
Those immaculate feathers covering her shivering body like the softest, warmest blanket.
Perhaps, Eries finally conceded to herself, this wasn't such a bad idea, after all.
He held his breath as she walked towards him, her eyes still intense and unreadable.
"Will you have me, Eries Aria Aston?" he whispered so softly only she could hear him. He gently raised her face to his with his thumb under her chin. She looked up.
Their eyes met and a silent agreement was made.
"I suppose I will," Eries whispered back, closing the small distance between them and claiming his lips with hers.
What had developed between them in their stay in Aeaea was an emotional and physical bond that neither could fully understand nor explain.
They would not go so far as to call it love (the situation was too complex for such an inconvenient emotion).
But they were certain that it was a powerful enough connection to sustain a marriage.
After all, they had both witnessed other marriages that had survived on so much less.