A/N

I wrote this to celebrate 5k views of One Night for the Heart here and 500 hits on A03! I'm aware that most of those are bots, but still, I'm celebrating!

Thank you to all my readers! I appreciate the support so much!

Enjoy!

Chapter 7 - Birthdays

Van checked himself in the mirror of his dressing room, making sure his uniform was buttoned straight and his sash angled properly. With a sigh, he licked his finger and tucked a stray hair back into place.

If he were any other king– even his father– he'd have a valet to check over his appearance. But once he became a married man (the thought still made him scoff two months later), he hadn't seen the use for one anymore. Not because he asked for or cared about his wife's opinion. Rather that he no longer had to worry about impressing anyone. His work was done. He had a wife who, as far as he heard and witnessed, was a decent enough queen. At least his people liked her. That was enough for him. Whether he liked her was something he wasn't interested in considering... not while he was awake, anyway.

Today was his birthday, something that–upon his reportedly joyous birth– had been declared the official beginning of spring and a festival day.

But Van didn't have use for any of that. To him, it was just one more day of additional duties. It wasn't a day of rest for him, no– what had his parents been thinking, making it a festival day?– the lead up to it was a pile of additional stressors: he had officiants and overseers to appoint, budgets and menus and entertainment to approve, appearances to make throughout the day. It was one of the most tiring events of his year, especially this year, coming as it was on the heels of his wedding which came on the heels of his anniversary gala, and it was all– supposedly– in his honor.

As he walked the hall to the breakfast room, Van swore that he would make no such fuss when his heir was born. No, he figured that the best thing to do was to make that day a non-event, perhaps even mark it as a sabbath, where the only thing people had to do was worship at the sanctuary. No feasts, no festivals, no appointments and no appearances to make.

Even though he dined with his wife once a week, this private breakfast was something he couldn't deny her when she requested it. It would be the first time they were to dine privately without ministers or advisors or other dignitaries. Shoving down a twinge of anxiety at the thought, he pushed through the door and into an intimate little dining hall.

His wife, the queen, was waiting. Wearing a simple red dress tied at the waist by a white sash, she smiled and greeted him with her fist out before her.

"No need to greet me formally," he said curtly.

Instead of looking stiff and uncertain or embarrassed, his wife had the audacity to laugh at her mistake in protocol. "Of course, I should have known that. It's just that you look so very…formal," she said, her voice turning tight over the last word. Her eyes were skipping over him and her cheeks were turning pink, and Van almost thought to wonder if she was admiring him.

Instead of allowing himself to dwell upon such a thought, he cleared his throat. "Shall we be seated?" he asked, holding out his arm for her.

"Yes," she said, taking his elbow with her eyes straight ahead.

He seated her and took his place across the table. A footman poured their tea and served them a bowl of cut fruit.

Once the meal was underway, his wife said, "Van, I have a gift for you," before presenting what was obviously a book wrapped in paper decorated with sketches of leaves and vines. Her smile brightened as she handed it to him.

"I had no idea what to get you, of course, since we know each other so little. What does one get a king for his birthday? If you were Chid, that would be a different story, but you have almost everything you could ever want, I'm sure. I'm still unfamiliar with your taste in adornments or room decorations so I had something practical made for you. Go ahead and open it," she added with a little laugh at him.

Van had been staring at her lips without knowing it, and when she laughed, he recalled himself and looked down at the present. He untied the red ribbon and unfolded the stiff paper, pleated in such a way that he'd never seen before, and he wondered if this way of folding was a Freidian custom. Once the paper was off, he held in his hand a leather-bound book with hundreds of blank pages and a reproduction of the Great Tree carved into the cover.

"It's nice, thank you," he said to her.

She let out a happy breath of relief. "I hoped you would like it. When I learned your birthday, I ordered it made for you with an image I'd sketched myself of the Great Tree."

Honestly, he wasn't sure what he would do with such a gift. He wasn't much for recording his thoughts, and he never cared to sketch. Still, she'd been thoughtful. He liked the Great Tree. His thoughts naturally turned to what he would do when it was her birthday. He didn't even know what she might like. With a twinge of panic, he asked, "I'm afraid I don't know your birthday?"

She smiled. "It's December 9th."

Nodding, relieved he didn't have to worry about a gift for her just yet, he set aside the book and returned to eating the rolled-up pastry on his plate.

Before he could finish it, she asked, "Do you enjoy riding horses?"

He lifted his eyes to her as she took a bite, waiting for his reply. While he enjoyed riding on occasion, he didn't make it a habit. Furthermore, he wondered if she was trying to rope him into an activity they would do together.

"Not really," he replied.

"Oh," she said.

Sure enough, he saw her happy expression drop slightly as her lips turned down a fraction and she pressed them into a less joyous smile. With another bite, he pushed away a pang of whatever that made him feel and focused on the cream filling his pastry.

"Once as a girl, I stole one of my father's soldier's horses," she said.

This got his attention. Had he married a horse thief?

She laughed at his perplexed expression. "Don't worry, I returned it. I only borrowed it for the day. You see, I was visiting my father in the field. I didn't have my horse and I was feeling rather restless. The soldiers were all doing a field exercise that day. They didn't need their horses. So I went to the stables, found one that came to my voice, tied a halter around its nose, and off I went."

"You went without a saddle?" he asked.

"Of course. I didn't have time for that."

This was beginning to sound like some of his stories with Merle, back when he used to escape to the roof with her– though he never did so much as steal a horse or even leave the valley. Unintentionally, he smiled.

Encouraged, Hitomi went on. "We– the horse and I– rode over a hill and found a muddy lake to ride around. When we came to the inlet, I couldn't cross because the stream had cut into the clay too deeply. We were forced to go back the way we'd come. But, in examining upstream, I saw a little fawn was below in the water, unable to get up the muddy banks."

"A fawn? How large?"

"Small enough I could carry it," she said.

"You mean you went down with it into the water?"

"Yes. I couldn't let it die there! I had to take off–." She stopped speaking, her mouth open.

As Van waited for what she was going to say, her cheeks turned pink, and he wondered what, exactly, she removed.

She cleared her throat and began again, "I took off the halter I'd tied to my horse, slid down to the deer, and tied it around its chest. Then I carried it with me downstream. When the water got too deep for me to carry it, I swam to shore and pulled it after me."

"It didn't drown?"

"No, it swallowed some water, but as soon as I untied it, it shook off and began stumbling around. The poor thing was cold from being in the stream so long, though."

"Where was its mother?" he asked.

"I'm hoping she was around, but I didn't stay. I cleaned myself up the best I could and headed back around the lake."

"Did you get in trouble?" he asked.

She looked down, her lips pressed into a restrained, mischievous smile. "Yes," she said.

Van wondered what the punishment was but didn't want to pry. He looked down to his plate but found it empty. He'd finished eating? He'd been that distracted?

Resigned, he lifted his teacup and, his curiosity getting the better of him, asked, "What was your punishment?"

Watching her as her eyes darted up to him and then back down, she said, "I had to polish the soldier's gear, which was a huge embarrassment for me."

She was definitely blushing now. "Why was that?"

"Because that is the job of the soldier or the soldier's lover, not a fifteen-year-old girl who was uninterested in romance," she said. "Especially that soldier. He was the size of a bull and just as ugly."

Van swallowed a gulp of tea and his chuckle as she ducked her head again to hide her blush. A curl of hair fell loose just then, drawing his eye to the curve of her neck. His gaze followed that down to the shadowed place where the neckline of her dress dipped low on her chest.

With another gulp, he tried to wet his suddenly dry throat.

His wife shifted in a movement that only exposed her neck further, and the king looked up to see her watching him.

Heat rushed through his body as he grew intolerably hot. He'd been caught.

Clearing his throat, he abruptly backed away from the table and stood to leave.

"Have you finished already?" she asked.

"Yes, it's a festival day. There will be more food later," he said.

"What about your gift?" she asked behind him.

He stopped. "I'll take it," he said, holding out his hand. The footman plucked it up from the table and handed it to him.

"We meet again for the afternoon carnival?" she asked.

"Yes. Be in the front hall at midday. I'll escort you to the square. Have a good morning… Hitomi," he said and stepped out the door, turning in the direction of his study.

Keeping his steps quick and even, Van took a breath and let it out to the count of his footsteps. Thank Escaflowne he didn't have to eat breakfast with her every day. He needed a respite already and the day had hardly started! At least when he saw her later, they wouldn't be alone and thus wouldn't be able to converse. That, he accepted, was one benefit to his birthday festival.