Beyond Aeaea
DISCLAIMER: The Vision of Escaflowne is not legally mine but the visions of this story are.
Note: Thanks for the reviews. Sorry for the delay in this chapter.
They might seem a little bit out of character. But I always believed that both Folken and Eries had a lighter side to them when they didn't have to face other people on official business. We've seen some of Folken's lighter sides but not really much of Eries'. So here's my take on that.
Happy Valentine's Day! And Happy Chinese New Year as well! This is part of my epic post for the occasion! One-shots or chapters that go with the theme of Vday!
It's a little descriptive but not too explicit, mind you. It is their wedding night, after all. (I've never really written scenes like this before so I apologize for the poor writing. I tried my best.)
Chapter Seven
Once safely in the privacy of their chamber, the newlyweds both heaved sighs of relief.
For the moment, at least, they could drop the masquerade. They soon realized, however, that they had each other to contend with. And though they had both convinced themselves that this time alone would not be awkward, they both looked away from each other uneasily, not quite knowing what to do next, and yet knowing what they would eventually have to do.
Folken and Eries, for all their talents in diplomacy and administration, were unsure of what to say to each other as husband and wife. It was as if they had just met.
Remembering how all this came together, Eries began to smile, amused at their sudden awkwardness. Seeing this, Folken felt immediately at ease.
"I suppose the first thing to do now is to have some formal introductions," Eries announced suddenly. Folken looked puzzled at this.
"Don't look at me like that, Folken Lacour de Fanel," she said knowingly.
He looked at her in astonishment and then realized what had just happened.
"Of course," he said with understanding, "we had not been allowed to tell each other our names in Aeaea."
For some strange reason, the sorceress who had been instrumental in bringing them together had forbidden disclosure of such vital information. She had explained her motives but neither Folken nor Eries understood these fully.
But every time they had attempted to say their names in that island, they found themselves unable to. They could not even tell each other where they had come from. Countries were clues that were too obvious, apparently.
So they could merely tell each other their stories in strange, general terms. She was the second princess of three, a middle child who was not considered as beautiful as her sisters but who was more devoted to her country, and more responsible in fulfilling her duties. She had once fancied herself in love with the same knight her older sister had a child with, but she was no longer certain of her heart.
He had been the heir to the throne of a kingdom of light and beauty. But an accident with a dragon during his test for kingship had made him lose an arm. He had been rescued and "repaired" by a strange emperor of a foreign land and he had worked for this man ever since, abandoning his old identity and seeking to build a new world somehow. And he had shown her his wings.
Words had been exchanged – many, many words, so many that it seemed that they had talked and listened to each other for days on end. They had both become privy to each other's deepest, darkest secrets. Every fear and uncertainty, every guilty pleasure.
Stories with no names.
But now that they had returned to their world, free from the island's enchantments, it wasn't so difficult to piece everything together.
Folken gave his wife credit for having done so. After all, how many countries in Gaea had a dragon-slaying ritual for the heir to the throne? And was it merely coincidence that the dead prince of Fanelia bore the same name as the Strategos of Zaibach? And how many princes were known to be of Draconian parentage?
It wasn't too hard to figure out. And Eries was an extremely intelligent woman.
"I see you've done your research," he praised her. He expected nothing less.
"Of course," she replied with a smile, "I like to know as much as I can about anything I get into."
"Naturally," he said with a nod.
He felt relieved. She knew the whole truth now, she knew that man he had become, and she had consented to marry him in spite of all this. He had underestimated the bond they had formed together in Aeaea.
"I am grateful," he said gravely, "that you agreed to all of this."
"Must you be so formal, my dear?" she asked him curiously, "we are husband and wife, you know."
He managed to return her look of amusement.
"Besides," she answered on a more somber note, "you know that not all we did in Aeaea was under the influence of that sorceress. The only thing she really did was bring us together and forbid us from uttering our names. But everything beyond that was our own choice."
"We should give the sorceress credit though," Folken replied, "had she not whisked us away from our lives and brought us together in that enchanted island, none of this might have happened. We would not have had the opportunity to know each other as well as we do now."
"Indeed," Eries agreed. For she realized the wonderful advantage of knowing so much of one's spouse prior to marriage, especially an arranged one.
She knew all his faults, and most of his secrets. And she accepted him nonetheless.
The same with him. He had been content with his solitude before, but he knew now that he would enjoy her company.
And both were somehow keenly aware that neither would ever hurt the other. And that was a great comfort.
She walked towards him, more confident now, much of their former familiarity now re-established.
He watched her intently as she gently reached up to hold his pale face in her hand.
"You do realize that we'll be stuck with each other for the rest of our lives," she said playfully, but with a very serious expression in her emerald eyes.
He closed his eyes and gave a small smile. He reached out and pulled her closer to him. She made no protest.
"Well, then," he replied, lowering his face to hers, "I suppose we will have to make the most of it."
Then, they kissed, as freely and passionately as they had been hindered to do earlier that day.
--
Soon, most of their initial doubts and hesitations fell away, along with the elaborate, ceremonial wedding garments. And this was one of those rare occasions where Folken showed his magnificent, white wings.
They stood before each other as they truly were and for a few moments, neither spouse said anything. Both were busy gazing at each other intently.
And though they had seen each other that way before, they couldn't help but feel slightly self-conscious.
Eries was dazzled by the sight of his wings, which never ceased to amaze her. A light seemed to surround him whenever he chose to bring them out which seemed to give him a gentleness reminiscent of the young prince of Fanelia.
She suddenly felt so plain and inadequate, standing before such an ethereal being. She bowed her head in embarrassment, her long golden hair falling across her face, her arms covering herself slightly.
"What's the matter?" Folken asked in concern, seeing her act thus.
"I'm so sorry," she said shyly, "to disappoint you."
His eyes widened incredulously at this and saw how embarrassed she felt about herself because he had said nothing. He had been too entranced.
He quickly resolved the misunderstanding however and assured her that she had absolutely no reason to feel that she disappointed him in any way.
"That's impossible," he said earnestly, "it's just…"
He searched for words to say, words that were unfamiliar on his lips but needed to be said nevertheless. She waited apprehensively.
"You're even more beautiful than I remember," he said quietly, much to her astonishment and pleasure.
Eries' eyes widened and her cheeks colored.
But it was now Folken's turn to feel self-conscious, looking uneasily at his metal arm and hating how monstrous it looked. He felt like a freak with his white wings and artificial limb while she was whole and unblemished, glowing like a goddess before him.
She sensed his sudden insecurity and moved quickly to reassure him. She did not shrink away from him.
Folken tensed with surprise as Eries took his metal hand and brought it gently to her lips. He stared at her incredulously as she did so without artifice or fear.
She reached out her hand to cup his face once more, holding his gaze. He could not look away.
"You're even more beautiful than I remember," he had said.
"So are you," she whispered. And it was his turn to be astonished. But no words were needed now.
She brought her lips to his and his arms went around her instinctively.
Their mouths clung together naturally. And her body seemed to melt into his.
Nothing stood between them anymore, so they succumbed to their hearts at last.
They got into the familiar rhythm, and soon realized how much they had missed it. Both of them moving as one, not knowing where he ended and where she began.
--
He had never felt any desires or passions for a woman. He had seen many in his time but never showed any interest in them.
He had always clamped a lock on his emotions, never allowing them to overpower his judgment. His only focus was fulfilling the destiny of the empire. He had not known that his destiny may have had other things in store for him.
He had never imagined that there would come a time when he would be powerless to resist one person.
She had always ever stood in the shadow of her sisters, paling in comparison to them. Everyone else saw her as merely the cold, formal, intelligent but undesirable princess of Asturia who kept everything in order.
For the first time in her life, she was desired, wanted, needed... in the way that she had only dreamed of. And she felt happier than she thought she could ever be.
They both always kept their true feelings contained, constantly putting up fronts of coldness and composure. They were experts at concealing rage, sadness, and even joy. They would not allow anyone to take advantage of any of their weaknesses.
Too often had they seen others fall into such traps. So they were careful enough to be on their guard. It was more convenient this way.
But they figured that it was all right to let their armor fall off ever now and then. After all, it was impossible to live a life so suppressed.
And even if the rest of the future was so uncertain, they knew that they would have the comfort and refuge of nights such as this, when no one and nothing could intrude on the space they had created for themselves.
Neither one spoke of love, they both staunchly refused to mention it. They were too afraid of showing any more weakness than they already had.
They both believed that there was a great danger in acknowledging their relationship for what it truly was. And they were still afraid of accepting all the inconvenient consequences that followed such an admission.