Chapter 2, ladies and gentlemen! My gift of mushy, lovey-doveyness. I will probably be unable to write again until I get a break from school. I was only able to produce this chapter because the first week of classes hardly gives any homework. I wanted to post this as soon as possible (just because I had so much fun writing it!) so that you may have a good long taste of V/H goodness. There is quite a bit of that in here.
Well, don't take my word for it! Read and see it for yourself. :)
He experienced an unpredicted tranquility as her warm hand found its way into his and clamped tightly around his rough palm. She allowed him to lead her back into the softly lit room with ease. Without a moment's thought, Van reached behind to swing the wooden door closed, shutting the world outside. He hardly noticed the mixed emotions of understanding and surprise that lit her eyes as she watched the door seal with a quiet click of solidity.
And suddenly, with her hand wrapped around his, they stood alone in silence before the large decorated urn.
Swallowing with uncertainty, Van cast his slightly fuzzy vision on the glowing woman beside him. She was focused on the urn with her green eyes full of thoughtful sadness. An immediate appreciation for her presence filled his body with warmth. The flickering candlelight enveloped her red hair in an enriching halo. Her ruffled nightgown – an odd comedic comfort – made her figure smaller and more vulnerable in the shimmering darkness. She squeezed his hand, startling him out of his stare, and her green eyes turned up to his face in a worried, studious manner.
"Are you sure it is okay for me to be here?" She whispered her words. They floated in the air tauntingly.
He looked away for a moment and lifted his free hand to embarrassingly wipe away the stray tears on his tan cheeks. The mahogany eyed man took a deep breath and felt his control coming back into place. Glancing back at the still urn, he nodded briefly.
"It's nice to have someone here." He answered in a flat voice.
They stayed silent for several minutes standing together in the candlelight. Their shadows blended together long and dark on the opposite wall behind them.
"When the Trimane Battle was won," Van said softly, "I was ushered into a medical tent immediately for my wounds. They were already half healed because of the time I had spent with you in the field. Even so, I was kept there for a long time, waiting, wondering. It was the worst experience of my life not being able to know how many of my men had lost their lives to protect their country; if members of my vehotus had survived to see another day. Finally, I heard Allen discussing the fate of my Western Infantry outside the tent. That's when I learned…"
He stopped as his voice caught slightly. Unexpectedly, the ebony haired man felt her other hand reach over and stroke his arm lightly. This caused pleasant shivers to run up all the way to his spine. Courage filled his heart and he cleared his throat.
"I ran and checked on Gadeth and Dryden immediately. Just knowing they were alive helped. However, Dilandau… they told me where to find him. I remember my heart growing cold as soon as I began the journey. He was all alone in a cold tent at the end of the path. His entire body was completely bent like he had been tortured to the highest degree before death. Dilandau's face scared me. Even though I was alone with him, I wouldn't cry. I couldn't." Van let out a pained laugh that sounded more like a choke. "I refused to mourn him even during the funeral."
"But why?" she interrupted gently, still rubbing his arm. She gazed at him imploringly. "Why couldn't you cry? He obviously meant a lot to the country… to you."
The black haired man smiled grimly at her words. Keeping his mahogany eyes trained on the bronze urn, he replied softly, "I am king. Everyone knows the king has to be the strongest in the country. Weakness cannot exist with me. I have to be a pillar of strength to my people. Breaking down and crying like a child!" Van exhaled loudly. "What strength is in that? You want to know the real kicker though? Sometimes, I am so weak inside that I feel like everything is crashing on my shoulders. My country is getting invaded, one of my vehotus is gone forever, and I am struggling to be even half the man my father was. I have found you, but why? Why would I need the Pilot of Rutilus' help? Does it prove that I cannot handle this battle by myself?"
He heard an irritated sign escape her lips and glanced at her frowned eyebrows. Suddenly, he realized how rude he must have sounded to her.
"Oh, no, don't think I'm not grateful for you. I realize that I cannot finish this battle without you. Obviously you are meant to be here. You are prophesized from long ago. I did not mean for my words to sound so cold. I've let my mouth run without thinking. Please forgive me."
Van watched carefully as her face changed from a small scowl to a miniature smile. She nodded, her eyes still on the urn, signaling there was no offense taken.
"What I meant to say: Escaflowne chose me long ago when my father died and I have constantly wondered if I am the right candidate for the job. I look at Allen and I see a dashing hero. A man worthy of honor. I look at Dryden or Gadeth and all I see is strength and control. They have a way with the vox that I could never figure out. Gadeth actually experiments with it – for good or ill. Yet, I was chosen to follow my father's large footsteps. This is my responsibility. And most of the time I have no idea what I am doing! This battle is hardly what I would call "a victory". Yet, for the sake of the people, I must pretend that I didn't let an entire infantry get destroyed. I must hold back mourning. And the reason for holding back? I am weak. I really am. I am unfit for a king. Most of the time, I'd much rather let someone else take the job. I know anyone besides me could do better. However, this is my responsibility no matter how much I wish it wasn't. Therefore,owHo I cannot let weakness also be a part of the blundering mistakes I have already made during my reign. Tell me, what king cries in front of his people?"
"Dummy."
Van blinked in astonishment. Her small word broke through his long, outpouring monologue like crashing thunder.
"What did you just say?" Surely, she didn't just call him…
"You're a dummy."
A slice of anger filled him and he stared incredulously at her. He had just spilled his heart out. And she…
"You just called me a dummy. Twice."
Her face was in a concentrated frown. Her eyes held a determined understanding that he couldn't grasp. The hand on his arm gave an unexpected push on his shoulder making him face her instead of the candlelit urn.
Her glittering green eyes soaked into his as she let go of his hand. "What has given you the mindset that crying is a weakness? I think you have confused weakness with pride."
"Hey! I-" Van started irritably, but she immediately interrupted him.
"You have so much pride, Van. It wasn't for your country or your men that you refused to show your sadness. You said it yourself. You did not want to show weakness: your weakness. But I believe that displaying that you care is more important than saving face. Dilandau is only the beginning. There will be more death and more war. It is the price you pay for ensuring the safety of your kingdom."
Reaching up, she timidly placed both her hands on his broad shoulders. "I understand the reason Escaflowne chose you as his pilot."
"But-" She placed a small finger on his lips and cut him off again.
"You believe that anyone would be better for the job as King of Fanelia. I get that. However, I also know for a fact there are reasons beyond our own comprehension as to why we are the ones forced with this massive amount of responsibility. From what I understand of our magic, it filters into our emotions and makes us who we are. Rutilus Flumen is water. Water adapts to its container. It takes shape of the object it is placed into. And my power has allowed me to conform quickly to my surroundings. For example, just by sheer will, I learned how to speak Fanelian in a matter of seconds. I have deep calluses on my hands that should have taken years to build from only a few days of swordplay. Now think about it. Escaflowne is the essence of fire."
Taking her eyes off his, she nodded to one of the candles on the table. The orange flame instantly danced on its wick.
"Fire is heat. It is passion. It is emotion. You cannot hide the very core of who you are. If you are upset, cry. If you are angry, shout. If you care for someone, love. Holding in emotion will only damage your heart. Put down this illusion that emotion equates to weakness. Displaying your love and devotion to your vehotus and to your people is what will keep Fanelia strong. If you love your people, show them. They will love you and want to protect you in return. If you continue this emotionless charade, what is there to fight for but an uncompassionate monarchy that doesn't care what's happening to his country? The sad part? You do care. You care so much you even doubt yourself as a ruler. From what I see in front of me, you are the perfect king. Your father never had to deal with the pressures you are facing. Protecting a country, ensuring your people are safe, fighting a strong enemy; this takes strength, courage, and passion. Self-confidence is a weakness. Emotion is not. And you only allow a few tears alone behind a closed door. No wonder you are so mixed and confused. You suppress something that you have been born with. Something that can be considered a blessing from Escaflowne."
Van was completely shocked. All he could do was stare into her intense, green eyes. Who was this girl?
"My father once told me that the dead are never truly gone from this world. They become a part of the ones they cherished the most while they are alive." Closing her eyes, the redhead gently pulled him closer to her. His eyes widening in disbelief, Van's heart sped up to an unmatchable pace as she placed her head softly on his chest. He blushed deeply knowing she could hear his strong, spastic heartbeats. Her cheek pressed against his silk shirt causing his tan body to slowly burn with the fire he only felt when she was near him. The pleasant heat spread all throughout his limbs, twisting slowly in his toes and fingertips.
"Your heart. They live in here." She explained, reaching to wrap her arms around his neck in a tight hug. "Dilandau, your mother and father, everyone who has fought to save you. They exist inside you. They watch over you. Don't you feel them?"
"I… feel so warm… and so sad…" Van whispered shakily in her ear, his trembling arms hanging limply at his side. Beads of sweat appeared on his hairline as the flushing heat roared brighter.
The ebony haired man felt her shiver lightly against him. She breathed quietly and held him even tighter.
"Let it out."
Her short sentence hung in the air like an unquenchable thirst. His throat seized and he knew his dams were breaking. Everything he had held back for so long, all his strength, his courage, his worry, came rushing forward in a wild, deafening panic. Van's breaths became labored as he tried to hold back the tide of his stampeding emotions.
"Don't hold it in, Van." Hitomi's voice soothingly cut through more of his control. "Release it."
"I… wish… I could have saved… him." Van gasped as a raging burn filled the back of his eyes. His thoughts jumbled together into an undistinguishable mess. "I… wasn't… strong enough. I can't save… anyone…"
His legs shook and his entire body trembled violently. Her arms loosened from his neck and her head lifted from his chest. The fire that coursed inside him wasn't stopping. Her green eyes were the color of lush fields after a rainstorm. They shined at him as though he was the bravest man in the world.
No judgment. No pity. Only understanding.
Finally, his wavering legs gave out and he collapsed roughly to his knees. His hands reached for something stable and he grabbed her waist, pulling her close. Wrapping his strong arms around her small body, he unthinkingly buried his head on her fluffy nightgown. His self-control crumpled against the forceful tide inside him. It all plummeted out like a massive infection that had been building for years. He wept loudly, his voice muffled in her clothes. Her little hands slowly ran through his thick, black hair, massaging his head and the back of his neck.
He lost track of how much time had passed as he stayed there crying on his knees. Minutes? Hours? Still, she calmly held him to her. Her small warm body stood like an anchor against his plunging emotions.
Slowly, Van's sobs became long gasps and those quieted to soft even breaths. Her hands continued to smoothly brush through his dark hair, a comforting gesture he hadn't felt since he was a child. Suddenly, he realized how tight he was holding her and abruptly let go. He felt her breathe deeply as if she hadn't inhaled properly in hours.
A small dose of guilt washed over him.
"I apologize," the black haired man muttered thickly lifting his face off her drenched nightgown. He stared at the ruffles with puffy eyes. "You are all wet."
Van heard her laugh quietly from above his head. "No worries. I'll dry."
Suddenly, she let go of his hair and bent to kneel down in front of him. Her knee cracked loudly and he smiled weakly at her.
"Laughing at me, are you?" she smiled, pretending to be insulted. "I'll have to know I was never known in Hospesland for my curtsies."
"And you're not too good at them here either." Van muttered densely with a small chuckle. He suddenly wondered how crazy he must seem to laugh after crying so much. He must look like such a fool.
"Don't you do that," she scolded harshly, surprising him.
He gave her a quizzical look. "What did I do?"
She sighed. "If you feel the need to laugh, laugh. Don't worry if I will think you are weird or crazy. If something funny happens, then laugh. That is a normal response, right?"
"How did you possibly sort out that I was thinking such thoughts?" The black haired man demanded - half annoyed, half impressed.
"I read your eyes." She smiled lightly, a blush slowly crawling to her smooth cheeks. "I like them when you don't…"
"Hold back my emotions?" Van answered for her. She nodded shortly. "Unfortunately, that's how I was trained. Too much emotion makes you seem human in the eyes of your people."
Hitomi frowned. "Going back to what I said earlier, why are emotions a bad thing?"
Van stopped. His mind mulled over her question. Why was it a bad thing to show his humanity to his people? He had once known the answer, but now it didn't make sense. Was it to appear invincible? That he had everything under control? Or that he was not a part of the normal world because of his connection with Escaflowne.
But he was still human, wasn't he?
"I… don't really know. I'm not thinking very clearly right now. Maybe I can answer you tomorrow." He smiled sheepishly at her.
"Or maybe, for the first time, you are thinking clearly." She gently contradicted.
He shot her a skeptical look.
"Think about it." She went on. "All these emotions bottled up inside. In the end, what did that make you do?"
"Cry like a child?" The blacked haired man guessed sardonically.
Clicking her tongue impatiently, she shifted her legs so that she sat on the ground in front of him. "Cry like a human. You're not a robotic Guymelef, Van."
"I'm the Pilot of one, though." He shot back weakly.
"Well, so am I, but you don't see me trying to hide anything."
They smiled at each other compatibly and he sat on the ground as well. His legs were unexpectedly sore from kneeling for so long. Van hadn't even noticed. He watched as she played with the ruffles on her nightgown shyly. A wave of gratitude towards her enveloped him. Somehow, this petite girl knew exactly what to say to help him. Though his head hurt and his eyes stung from the tears, his body felt lighter than it had in a long time.
I have to thank her someway. Van thought determined. But what?
"I-I like that custom," he said randomly, his eyes leaving her as he pretended to straighten his silk sleeves. He scolded himself mentally. Smooth. Real smooth.
She frowned. "Huh?"
"The one about your loved ones living inside you after they pass on," the dark haired man clarified swallowing an odd nervousness that had crept in his throat. "And it is a Hospesland custom?"
"Not really," she said slowly. "I am pretty sure my father learned it from some other country he visited on his travels."
Van blinked as an old memory crawled to the surface from his brain. "You know what? I have heard of that custom actually."
"Really?" Hitomi sat up straighter, interested. "When?"
"When my mother and father died, someone told me my parents were with me always. That they lived in my heart."
He watched her green eyes grow from simple curiosity to complete surprise. She sat forward quickly while her hands clenched into tight fists on the cold, stone floor beside his legs.
"What? Who told you? Who?"
Taken back by her intense demeanor, the dark haired man leaned further away to give them proper space. "I… I don't… I don't remember… It was such a long time ago…"
"Are you sure? You can't think of anything at all?"
Van shook his head, feeling shy at her close proximity, "I will let you know immediately if I remember."
Hitomi's green eyes were wide with racing thoughts. Van watched with mild curiosity as she lifted a hand unthinkingly and reached under the collar of her nightgown to retrieve a startlingly pink pendant. Fiddling with it, she finally came to a satisfactory conclusion in her mind and glanced back at him. She frowned as she found him looking away from her with an odd blush across his cheeks.
"What?" she asked self-consciously.
Van's mouth grew into a small smile and he shook his head quietly. Her irritation increased.
"What? What are you smiling at?"
He blushed deepened and he cleared his throat. "Do you realize you have a hole in your nightgown?"
Her facial expression changed from confusion to an eruption of mortification in a matter of seconds. His furtive smile vanished from his tan cheeks and he instantly wished he had used a different approach to alert her of the embarrassing predicament.
Gasping in a staggered breath, she instantly clutched both hands to the ruffled fabric on her chest and bunched it together. She stared at him with wide green eyes filled with a strong mix of humiliation and indignation.
"How long?" She whispered. Her whole face matched the color of her hair.
The ebony haired man coughed and rubbed his mahogany eyes with his palms for time to think. Racking his brain for something to console her, Van began blurting out the first thoughts that came to his mind.
Except it came out in a rambling heap of words.
"I didn't see – well, of course, I did see only a little – but not a lot. I just noticed – well, I saw it when you moved the pendant – and it seemed that you needed to know. I didn't mean to embarrass you; I just thought it was best that you take care of it. Not that I didn't like what I saw…"
His brain and mouth stopped.
He blushed even brighter than her at that statement. He watched with equal mortification as her wide green eyes grew even larger and she placed a small pale hand over her mouth. Taking in a deep breath, Van swallowed down his rising panic as his brain began working again.
"I apologize for what I just said. I was trying to make this less awkward than it is right now and I ended up accelerating it exceedingly. I only wanted to help with the situation-"
And then he heard the snort. The hand over her mouth moved a little and he noticed she was trying to hold back a very large smile. Her large green eyes twinkled with a new emotion that had surfaced: laughter.
She was laughing at him!
Van felt his own pride take a wounding stab. She's laughing and here he was trying to apologize!
"You're laughing!" he exclaimed, feeling a weird burn of frustration. "I was trying to comfort you!"
One hand still clutching the front of her nightgown, she lowered her other hand from her mouth and scooted closer to him. Her smile was soft and lovely. Van was completely lost. Was she hiding her anger for him because he looked at the hole or was she genuinely happy that he had embarrassed himself with his stream of jabbering, idiotic sentences? Was she getting closer to slap him?
Gazing wonderingly at her approaching figure, his heart began increasing once more. Swallowing nervously, he stayed where he was as she moved her forehead forward to lean pleasantly on the front of his silk shirt. One of her legs moved slowly and slightly touched the outside of his left thigh. Pleasant thoughts of the more mature kind began racing through his mind.
"But… why…?" He stumbled, once again his brain losing most of its motor functions.
"You're so sweet." She sighed the words contently. He felt her breathe deeply and settle her head further on him. His face went crimson.
He tried to scoff her comment gently while willing himself to not touch her soft red hair. "I'm not that-"
And her head dropped. He felt her whole body fall limp as she slid down his silk shirt and landed across his lap. Van raised his tan hands immediately and froze in utter shock. Keeping his eyes trained on the wall in front of him, his mind began a whirl of incomplete questions.
Why would she…? What is going on…? I thought she was mad… What is she doing…? What do I say…? She's lying on my…
"Hitomi?" Van whispered tensely, his body staying perfectly still. "Hitomi, what are you doing?"
No answer.
Van frowned.
Allowing himself to glance down her lying figure, understanding suddenly hit him in the stomach like a well placed Mind Wave.
She had fallen asleep.
"KANZAKI!"
The word blasted in Hitomi's quiet subconscious like a thundering avalanche. Gasping loudly, her green eyes popped open. A deep bright sunlit red blanked her familiar room. From somewhere further on, she heard birds chirping happily.
Morning…?
With her bearings finally coming into place, she sat up quickly from thick, fluffy, red covers. A hanging darkness instantly fell over her vision.
"Ooo…" she moaned as her head swirled with dizziness. She placed a hand on her forehead to stop the spinning. "What do you want, old man?"
"How dare you oversleep when I have given you a strict schedule? This is an insult to my entire career! Your sword training should have commenced hours ago! Yet I find you here in your bed? This laziness will only serve to get you killed on the battlefield! No one I have trained has ever…"
This doesn't make sense. Hitomi thought confused as she blinked in the brightness of her room. Why am I back in my room? Wasn't I with Van…?
"…I bet you are tuning me out right now, you insufferable…"
Oh, my Law! I fell asleep! Hitomi realized with horror. Did he carry me back here? Racking her brain for the memories of last night, the redhead finally caught some of Balgus' ranting.
"...do not deserve the effort Lord Van has put on the approval of your trials!"
Turning her tired wide eyes on the old man for the first time that morning, Hitomi held up a hand for him to stop shouting. "Wait, wait, wait, stop and repeat that, Balgus."
The old man was puffed up more than usual. His floppy grey hair matched his frazzled dark eyes that were now glittering with impatient annoyance. He wore a sandy brown training armor that Hitomi did not recognize which covered his shoulders all the way down to his thick thighs. His mustache wiggled ferociously as he snorted with agitation.
"He called the council members at dawn this morning to discuss plans for your approval. Though they argued against him, he stood firm in his positive convictions of your talents. They will be observing your training at sunset to decide whether you are an appropriate candidate for the trials. You have just wasted hours of precious training. From what I see here, you are more likely to laze about in your ruffled nightgown than-"
"He did what?" Hitomi was shocked. Looking away from Balgus, the redhead focused on her tossed bed spread and tried to gather her thoughts.
He fought the council members for approval of me. She felt a shiver of excitement run down her neck.
"I just told you, you stupid girl!" The old man roared. The tan armor on his old, broad shoulders clinked loudly. "Get out of that bed this instant!"
Leaping out from her mahogany covers, Hitomi scrambled around for her scattered training gear as Balgus swiftly strolled to the window and turned his grey head to give her privacy.
Van had spoken to the council for her. He had convinced them to watch her training.
This is bad. She thought panicked. I'm not skilled enough to impress anyone.
Her mind instantly mulled over the scene a few days ago when she had first showed the council her powers. Standing on the stair steps of the palace, she embarrassingly released her core and summoned her sword. She remembered Van's proud eyes looking at her. She must have looked pretty powerful. However, this council had turned her away in fearful disgust and verbally scolded Van for even bringing her into the country. Glancing at her mirror, Hitomi noticed her reflection. Her tangled red hair glowed in the morning sun. From only a few feet away, it looked as though her whole head was on fire.
I guess I can't really blame them. She shrugged hopelessly. I guess I'll have to do my best to impress these old geezers and prove to them that I'm not hostile.
She let out a small snort at the thought of her as a hostile being. Unfortunately, this caused Balgus' attention. With a mass of grinding armor, the old man turned swiftly from the window to see her struggling with her knee pads.
The old man opened his mouth to snarl some snide remark; however, she lost her balance at that moment and yelped as she crashed to the floor with a very unladylike thud on her bottom.
Mouth open, Blagus stared at her with every bit of animosity he could muster.
As she glanced shyly up at the raging veins popping in his forehead, she knew that this old man was more of a hostile being than she could ever hope to be.
"Hitomi?" Van whispered tensely, his body staying perfectly still. "Hitomi, what are you doing?"
No answer.
Van frowned.
Allowing himself to glance down her lying figure, understanding suddenly hit him in the stomach like a well placed Mind Wave.
She had fallen asleep.
A small sigh of relief intermingled with disappointment rushed out of his lips as he lowered his hands on her still body and gently shifted her into a more comfortable position on his lap. Her left cheek rested on his thigh; her arm draped itself simply around his waist and hugged the lower part of his back. Swallowing thickly, Van's mature thoughts took on a whole new level as he stared at her spilled red hair that fell around the upper part of his knees. Giving in to his feelings, the black haired man picked up a shaking hand and let it fall softly on her smooth cheek. Slowly, he moved his hand further down till he reached the inner part of her warm neck. He felt her pulse, strong and slow, beat against his fingertips. An urge – much like he had felt at the magical field – overcame him and he realized with a strange jolt that he really wanted to lean down and press his lips against this warmth. Van's mahogany eyes traveled back up to her inviting lips – which were slightly pouted. His mind filled with images of kissing her softly, holding her limp body close to his in the quiet darkness…
A flame inside him erupted so fiercely that he could barely contain it. His urge to kiss her grew stronger and stronger that he lifted his other hand to turn her head.
No! The ebony haired man thought ferociously. Removing his hand from her neck, Van shook his head to unwillingly push these new feelings away. Running all ten fingers through his thick hair, he tried to clear his cloudy thoughts with intellectual reasoning.
This wasn't right.
He shouldn't be doing this to a sleeping woman in the middle of the night. He wasn't that kind of man! Sure, she was beautiful and intoxicating, but never losing control of his emotions was almost a prideful attribute to his personality.
Not including that this woman was the Pilot of Rutilus Flumen and could crispy fry him as soon as she woke up.
Sighing with resolve, Van made the ultimate mistake of looking down at her lips again and at once felt another strong urge. Trying to recalculate his brain and get it back on the right reasoning track, he frowned as he found his logic beginning to support the opposing idea.
It was just so simple, right? Just one kiss?
And she would never know. Surely she wouldn't wake from such a small insignificant thing.
And she had said it herself. Hiding his emotions would only cause him pain. If he felt it, then why couldn't he show it? Sure, she was asleep, but there was the small prospect that if she did awaken to find his lips on hers… she might actually enjoy it…
And he owed her so much for comforting him.
One kiss would not hurt, would it…?
Van kept his head high and forced his mind to stop racing with the frantic beats of his heart. Perched precariously confident on his high throne, the ebony haired man clenched his hands into tight fists to keep himself from nervously playing with the bits of red thread on his throne. His royal robes felt uncomfortably heavy despite being tailor made for his tall figure. A crown of white gold fitted easily on his thick raven hair and shined in the brightness of the early morning.
Swallowing, Van kept his nervousness down and his eyes focused forward on the large wooden doors of the long chamber. He never liked the dank emptiness that was his throne room – except when it had been filled with guests for the Royal Welcome. Compared to that, this room looked almost maliciously vacant.
Glancing at the faces around him, he watched as his vehotus – almost all of them bleary-eyed – yawn and silently stare tiredly in different directions around the large room. They sat facing him diagonally sitting in ranking order to his right. The furthest away from him was Gadeth, wearing a ridiculous outfit of green dyed cotton pants and a gold silk shirt and blinking rapidly with dark eyes wide. His short chocolate brown hair stood up in spikes like a crow's nest on top of his forehead. Beside him, Millerna casually fitted her long blonde hair into a black ribbon tied at the base of her neck. She had on her light purple military gear for dagger training the hand to hand combat troops. Dryden, on the other hand, was completely asleep. His brown locks draped in curls like a curtain on the back of his chair. His mouth was slack and his head rested perfectly on his velvet covered back rest. Van heard a slight snore erupt from him.
The only alert face was Allen's, who continually stared at Van as if trying to figure out the reasoning behind his summons. He sat erect and ready, his blonde hair braided loosely over his shoulder.
Modocca, his head chief counselor, was seated diagonally to his left followed by the other council members: Justious, Meiden, Brill and Balgus. The old head counselor had an expression of extreme displeasure at being awaken so early in the morning, for he began his inquiry with a strong complaint.
"Well, I believe we all have assembled as you wished, Your Highness. Though some are less than willing to pay attention, it seems." He frowned at Meiden, who just shrugged at his son's lack of respect for the gathered council and gave his grey hair a characteristic twirl around his finger.
Dryden let out a well-timed snore allowing Millerna to punch the brown haired man in the shoulder. He startled up in his chair with a loud, "Whazzat?"
Ignoring the happenings of his congregated officials, Van allowed himself to take a deep breath before plunging into his well rehearsed speech.
"This morning, I have assembled you together to bring forth the inquiry concerning the Pilot of Rutilus Flumen. Now that events with the funeral for Dilandau have ended, we are in need of a proper trial to include her into our vehotus members. She has been with us for several days and yet nothing has been decided on what to do. I call this meeting to fix this lack of decision making once and for all. I am confident that my vehotus members are in agreement to allow these trials to take place. Am I correct to think so?"
Gadeth smiled easily at Millerna, who turned a graceful smile to Dryden, who passed a lopsided grin to Allen. The blonde man nodded at Van, his lips also turning into a brilliant beaming smile.
"Well, we, the council members of Your Royal Highness, object." Modocca announced arrogantly, raising his chin proudly. "We cannot allow such a person with characteristics that are so remarkably similar with our enemies be able to roam freely within our fair capital. She has a monstrous power that should never be acknowledged. We forbid it."
"Who are you calling 'we'?" A dark rumbling voice sounded from the end of the council line. Van's mahogany eyes feasted themselves upon Balgus, who unfolded his massive frame from his smallish chair. Tan armor graded together on the old man's massive chest as he bowed respectfully to Van. The king nodded in his direction, giving him permission to speak.
Balgus turned his scarred face upon the clean looking Modocca and gave him a nasty scowl. "As both a member of the vehotus and the head council, I believe I have the right to speak first about her. I have personally trained this woman since she left her homeland of Hospesland and I can assure everyone in this room that she is no Zaibach spy. She may have their distinctive physical features; however, inside her lies a power that comes straight from our protector: Rutilus Flumen. Her golden vox should be sufficient enough proof. I believe you got a good view of it the other night when she first came here, Modocca. Or maybe you were too busy hiding your eyes away from the brilliance." The huge man smirked as Modocca turned two shades of angry red.
"Ooo, burn!" Gadeth whispered audibly to Millerna, who snorted a laugh.
"There is no other in this world that possesses Rutilus Flumen's golden power. And, according to the prophecy, her particular color has not been seen for-"
"-For more than ninety years, yes, yes, we all know the legend." Brill stated drolly, standing up with a groan and bowing shortly before Van. "The Pilot was predicted to appear before us in a little less than a century and now here conveniently comes a woman claiming to be the Pilot. I can't help but feel this is insinuated. Too insinuated for my liking. If she is a planted spy from Zaibach, she came at the perfect time to make us believe lies. You can understand the reasoning behind the suspicions, my dear Balgus."
"Correct!" thundered Modocca violently. "This discussion should have never been open in the first place. Her presence is highly unwelcome. Rutilus Flumen would have never chosen a redhead for her Pilot. She would have chosen from our own maidens here!"
"The first Pilot for Rutilus Flumen was chosen from the North." Balgus growled shifting his small ferocious eyes to Modocca's wrinkled face. "The Water Goddess can choose from whoever she wants! She is not tied to any country!"
"But from Zaibach! This is absurd!"
"Absurd, you say? Maybe that is because what they are saying is the truth." Justious whispered quietly, nodding his short white head respectfully in Van's direction.
"Do not tell me you vote for this monster!" Modocca roared, hardly keeping himself together. Justious cowered slightly in his chair, but kept his eyes fixed on Van's straight form.
"Your Highness, I approve of her. I trust the judgment of my fellow council member, Balgus, and my youngest son, Gadeth. These young vehotus are wise. Wiser than we old men can ever hope to be."
With a deep ragged breath that echoed across the huge chamber, Justious leaned forward to grin mischievously wide at his green son, his old teeth reflecting in the dull light. Gadeth gave him a mirrored smile and a wink.
Modocca growled loudly, standing so violently from his chair that it fell back with a large bang on the stone floor. Two rabbit servants hurried forward and righted the chair immediately. "I will not stand for this! I still hold the majority for the council. It is three to two-"
"I'd sit before you have yourself an attack, Modocca." Meiden piped in with a bored tone. He gave a characteristically lazy grin at Justious before standing and delivering the most extravagant bow yet. Sweeping a hand around his head, he bowed deeply from the waist and let his hand fall gracefully to hang delicately at his knees.
Van smiled lightly at the old man – like father, like son.
"Your Highness," the older man gently mumbled, straightening out of his bend with his long grey hair tumbling over his strong shoulders. "I have sat and listened to the reasoning from both sides of this startling puzzle and I have come to a possible conclusion for this debate. If you wish it of me, I will describe in full detail my suggestion."
"Please," Van commanded, lifting his slightly shaking hand to signal his approval.
Meiden cleared his throat – obviously for dramatic effect – and said in a serious voice, "If this woman is indeed part of a plot to kill us all, she would have done it days ago when she first entered the city. Therefore, I can only conclude that she is indeed who everyone says she is: The Pilot of Rutilus Flumen. However…" he glanced warningly at Modocca, who had risen from his seat again and opened his mouth in anger. "I say if she is willing to let us study her powers within a closer proximity then we – the council members – will be able to decide for ourselves more justly if she is in fact the Pilot. I do not believe judging her based on her physical appearance is a wise choice. And based on the prophecy, I'd say she couldn't have come sooner to our aid. However to appease your disgruntled counselors, I suggest you think over my proposal."
Sitting down with finality, Meiden began twirling his hair as if he hadn't said anything at all.
The ebony haired king quickly turned this thought over in his head.
Having Hitomi openly show her power and skills in front of the council members would help her convince them of her innocence. But would it be enough to persuade Modocca and Brill, who seemed determined to look down on her?
Nodding his head approvingly, Van stood from his throne for the first time since the discussion began. Keeping his spine straight, he motioned the council members to stand. They did – Justious having some help from Meiden – and he breathed deeply to once again settle his nerves.
"I motion that the council members – excluding Balgus – will watch a display of her power at dusk tonight. We will meet after to discuss her destiny in this country. Balgus," he turned to the old man, who bowed respectfully. "You will spend the day getting her ready. She must display a usage of Mind Waves, shield control, and swordplay. Make sure she is prepared."
"Yes, Your Highness," Balgus rumbled politely, allowing a small twinkle of pride enter his eyes.
"Do you agree to this, my high counselors?" The black haired king inquired deeply, his voice echoing down the chamber.
Justious and Meiden immediately nodded their approval. Modocca swallowed thickly, his pointed Adam's apple dancing in his throat. Finally, as Van held his breath, the aged man dipped his head once in agreement. Brill just sulked.
"It was been approved. I will see you at dusk, gentlemen." Van stated with dismissal.
One kiss would not hurt, would it…?
Van's heart raced horribly in his chest as his forehead began to glisten with sweat. The silk shirt on his arms seemed to stick uncomfortably like glue to his back and shoulders. His stomach churned with a sour nervousness. She lay there so peacefully, the candlelight flickering softly on her pale skin.
The ebony haired man squared his shoulders and lowered his hands from his clenched hair. Placing one large palm her small shoulder and the other tenderly on her petite chin, Van turned her gently so that she stretched prone on the floor, the upper part of her body lying comfortably across his lap. His eyes tried to avoid the hole in her nightgown, but to no avail. He studied her up and down, enjoying the flames that roared with approval in his body. A sense of courage snaked across his mind and he slowly placed a wet palm on the back of her head, feeling the softness of her hair.
The flame built higher, his breath was shaky, and he wanted to kiss her so bad.
Lowering his tan face closer to hers, he lifted the upper part of her body at the same time. Her red head rested perfectly on the inside of his elbow as the rest of his arm supported her shoulders and waist. Holding her gently to his chest, he lifted his left hand to caress her soft cheek affectionately. He watched with fascination as her mouth opened slightly and her breasts rose rhythmically with her breathing.
He was less than an inch now. Her face was all he could see. His mahogany eyes were trained on her lips.
Taking one deep, daring filled breath, Van closed his shining eyes and closed in the gap between their lips…
"The one who vandalized the portrait went down this way!"
Van jerked violently, causing a moan to escape her mouth.
The servants!
His eyes popped open and he watched closely as she began to frown with sleep through her peaceful expression.
His heart beat in horror at the fear of being discovered. Choking a breath, he lowered her carefully back onto his lap. His perked ears listened intently at the closed doorway through the hard hammering in his chest. Footsteps pounded loudly down the stone hallway and, from what Van could hear, there were quite a few people outside the room.
He closed his mahogany eyes and silently cursed all that looked down at him from above on his cruel fate. Glancing back down at the sleeping woman in his lap, he breathed a sigh of relief mixed with severe distress. She slept on, utterly unaware.
"This isn't right," Van muttered, his courage completely drained by this new predicament. The heat that had once coursed through his body dulled to a minimum throb. "I should get her back to her room. Trying to kiss her like this…" he groaned with the frustration and shook his dark hair into his disappointed eyes. "I'm such an idiot."
Studying the sounds from the door, the ebony haired man only had to wait another three minutes before he was sure whoever had been outside the door had moved on to a different location. With ease, he slipped his tan muscled arm around her back and the other under her legs. He stood slowly as to not disturb her, but he noticed with relief that she was completely out.
"You know," he whispered to her sleeping form. "You really are something. I have never met anyone like you. I feel like I've strayed into a dream that I have had all my life. And yet,… I cannot wake from it… I do not want to wake from it…"
He took one last look at the bronze urn standing before him like a haunted memory. The shadows scaling across the stone walls no longer made him sick with sadness. Now they danced pleasantly with the candlelight.
Van knew his heart was finally at ease.
Feeling for his core, it cracked open to allow his red vox to wash over his body like a burning fire. Van realized these flames were nothing compared to the fire she made him feel tonight.
Blinking in his now brilliantly crimson eyes, he made sure her body was completely covered in his magic before he pictured her bedroom in his mind. Bending his surroundings to his will, he watched as the candlelit chamber faded from view and was replaced by a red curtained bed.
Letting a sad smile fall on his face, he strolled silently to her bed and laid her body gently on the mattress. As he let her go, she whimpered quietly in her sleep and reached with a blind hand for him. She shivered violently and mumbled something that sounded like, "Five more minutes, Balgus…"
Van let out a chuckle and shifted the red coverlet over her legs. Moving her stretched arm under the covers, he blinked as a sudden idea hit his mind.
Why hadn't he thought of this before!
Of course, there was something he could do for her!
Something he should have thought of a long time ago!
The ebony haired king straightened his back, wide awake with a racing brain. He would make sure she was welcome. No matter what, the council would have to accept her.
"I have to do it." He whispered confidently, feeling an excitement course through him. "I will make sure you are respected. You will never again feel the turmoil of rejection from my people. I will save you as you have saved me."
Acting before his reasoned mind could stop him; he brushed the silky red strands of hair from her face and pressed his lips softly on her forehead. A fire rushed through him that had nothing to do with his vox.
He smiled determinedly down at her as his eyes began to glow red once more.
And like a whispering wind, he vanished silently from her bedchambers.
Hope you enjoyed it! Man, I love me some V/H action, huh? I'm at my last semester of college - which is one of the reasons why I will probably have a hard time updating - and I will soon have to make something of myself in this world. A scary, scary thought, huh? Maybe some of my insecurities found its way into Van's little monologue there. But it is the truth universally accepted. Those of us who are fortunate enough to make it through the fearful world of "University" almost have to make something of themselves.
Anyway, enough of me. How did you like it? You can tell me by private message and/or review. However, it will be a while before I can answer your reviews because my stupid school doesn't allow its students to get onto . Gaaaay... So, I'll answer you as soon as I can drive to the local Starbucks (which is about 50 miles away) and get onto the site.
Thanks again for reading. I appreciate all my readers! You guys are the best!
This chapter was brought to you by the Nicholas Nickleby Soundtrack. Love me some Rachel Portman! :)
Blue...
p.s. Pertaining to the prologue: I know that there needs to be something to refer to (due to all my characters, places, and customs), so I'll try to get that up soon. However, expect a few more chapter updates before that gets up and running. I'll try to get it ready before I end this part, of course. :) But it will take time to get completed. Thanks for the patience.