And here we go...
Several warnings here. First, it's long. I mean like loooooooong. It is currently unfinished and up to something like 300 pages. (wince) Yeah I know. Second, it takes place after the end of the series, and contains spoilers for about every part of the series, so if you haven't seen it or seen all of it and you don't wanna be spoilt, skip it, and my apologies.
If you decide to read anyway and you haven't seen the whole series, you may be lost - it depends rather a lot on knowledge of the events, that's a weakness I know but what the heck. For the hearty who have not seen the series and forge onwards, a few cryptic clues: Serena has a secret past, and she knows less about it than most of the other main characters, at this point. If you have questions about previous events, email me privately and I'll try to bring you up to speed.
There will be lemons to come, both non-yaoi and yaoi, but they are quite a bit further into the story.
Twisted Fortune - An Escaflowne Fanfiction
By Bonnejeanne and Nixers
Contact: bonnejeanne@yahoo.com and nixerchan@aol.com
Warnings: Spoilers,(nothing else yet)
Notes: Set a little over one year after Vision of Escaflowne's end.
Chapter One - Fights and Flight
It had been a mistake to come. That was one thing, one of the few things of which Van was quite certain. Yes, it was his duty, yes, it was desirable to maintain ties between Fanelia and Asturia, and yes he'd already refused two invitations with the polite excuse of too much work to do in reconstructing his country, but it was still a mistake.
The atmosphere of the ceremony for the induction of the twelfth Heavenly Knight was one of great excitement to all of Asturia. Nobles from all over Gaea were sought out and in turn, sought to attend. As it was, the too small room was filled will too many people, the gossip too loud, and discreet indiscretions for any ears that were willing to listen. It reeked of the very courts that the young king tried to avoid.
His hand unconsciously tightened on the hilt of his sword. That was another thing. He hadn't worn the weapon in months, though it had been a part of him before the end of the war. But it was considered appropriate for the state occasion. Its weight reminded him of things he'd spent those months trying to forget... such as how easy it had been to use.
His preoccupation was broken as hand clasped down on his shoulder with friendly weight. Van craned his head to look at the interloper, eyes widening a fraction as he recognized the man. Allen hadn't grown much in the year passing, but subtle lines of worries had worn lightly around his blue eyes. Still, the Knight seemed more than happy to see Van.
"You look as uncomfortable as ever," he murmured just loud enough to be heard over the crowd.
Consciously relaxing - it took an effort - Van scowled with the corner of his mouth. "Are you going to tell me I would get used to it? How did you?"
Allen laughed. "There is no getting used to it, but you can play polite for them, Very few bother with what's not easy to see." Allen paused to look around. "Where's Merle? I'd never thought I'd see the day that she'd let you out of her sight."
"Home," Van answered and the single word had a low throb of longing in it. "She seems to have caught a mild illness. The healers say not dangerous but," he shrugged. "I wouldn't let her come."
The Knight nodded. "What with the winters coming on so early." He gave Van's shoulder a quick squeeze before letting his hand drop. "How goes the reconstruction? Soon finished?"
Van relaxed a little more as the question turned his thoughts to Fanelia. "Not finished, no, but it goes well. More families... even a few more coming down from the mountains." He took a breath and let it out, then looked up at Allen. "What of you? And how is Millerna? I didn't see her this morning."
Golden brows knitted together for a moment before his smile returned. "She's well. After Dryden left, she returned to her studies in medicine, much to her father's displeasure. Eries is not happy but the sky will fall when I see her truly smile." Allen shook his head. "It looks like whomever Eries chooses will be the new king."
Van nodded but did not make any comment. The intricacies of the Asturia succession were not something he spent time thinking about. He did notice that Allen had not answered the question about himself.
Noticing his companion's deeper scowl, Allen turned to face him more fully. "There will be a tournament tonight in honor of the new knight. Are you thinking about joining? It's been a long time since we've traded words over blades."
Van *had* been thinking about the tournament but his thoughts were far from clear. "I don't... I never understood making a game of War, Allen," he said slowly.
Allen paused, considering. "I've never thought of it so much as a game, rather as practice for when war isn't a game." He shrugged and gracefully stepped out of the way of a jostling courtesan intent on buttering up the king. "Peace has been nice, but I don't think it will last."
Van looked at Allen sharply. The words shook him more than he wanted to admit, and he covered it with another scowl. A threat to Fanelia?
Allen didn't miss the look, better at reading the taciturn king than most were. "I take it you haven't heard then. There are rumors of some stirrings to the north, in Zaibach. It may be nothing."
Suddenly the room and the crowd were far too close. Someone brushed Van's arm and he glared, the sword emerging an inch or so before he controlled the impulse. The courtier on the receiving end of the glare turned pale and fell back quickly.
"I need some air," Van muttered, and began working his way to the back of the room to get out.
"Van!" Allen tried to get the other man's attention, but he was either ignoring the knight or was out of earshot in the crowd.
"Oniisan?" A soft voice carried over the murmur. Allen looked town at the sandy brown hair of his sister.
"You are supposed to be at your studies."
"During this? Really, brother-mine you can't expect me to sit up there while the kingdom is in celebration."
"Just indulge me?" Allen asked with steel laced concern.
Serena curtsied as much as the tight space would allow, but excused herself. Easily dodging between courtiers, she wandered haphazardly in the direction of Allen's companion. She'd only seen a glimpse, but he looked far more interesting than the arena's ornate antechamber and her brother's admonitions.
Van had gotten out of the room and as far as the nearest arched opening, turning his face to the night breeze. He closed his eyes, trying to calm the turmoil that those few simple words of the blond swordsman had induced. Peace... not last... how could it not last? After everything they'd done, the sacrifices, the blood shed... flashes of the past, Fanelia in flames, the battles, the death... shaking his head, Van swallowed, trying to find a center of calm.
Serena padded out onto the balcony, her slippered feet hardly making a whisper of sound on the hard stone floor. She paused a moment to take in the figure in front of her, something about the posture was familiar.
It was that same pang of familiarity that drew her attention when she spotted him conversing with her brother that roused her curiosity. Having gone this far, she reasoned, it was ridiculous to back away now. She took care not to be heard as she approached his side, and her lips turned up with a mischievous grin.
"You know," she said directly into his ear. The tone she affected was touched with a dash of humor. "You're going to catch your death out here."
Without conscious thought, Van whirled, grabbed the person who had appeared beside him, and pushed them against the nearest wall. Then he gaped, and jumped back as if stung, seeing the petite form dressed in lace and brocade. Blinking, he flushed, realizing he'd just all but assaulted some court lady.
"...sorry," he muttered, staring through the cover of his dark hair. The face teased him. Something...
"I should hope so." Serena said, drawing herself up, self-consciously. Her voice was a little ragged from panic and her eyes too wide. Covering it quickly with a smirk, she turned her chin up slightly. "Well young man, I hope you don't greet all your new acquaintances this way."
It was deserved but it didn't sit well even so. Taking a deep breath, Van reached for the training he might ignore, but could never forget. He executed a graceful court bow. "I apologize, lady," he said formally. "Van Fanel of Fanelia. Name your restitution."
"Well, what do you know, he DOES have manners." Serena smiled, calmer now. "Although to tell the truth, I like you fighting better. It seems to suit you more. Serena Schezar," she dipped automatically into a curtsy as she introduced herself, "And a kiss would do just fine for restitution... don't you think?" She held out her hand, that same mischievous smile flitting across her face.
Van's eyes widened slightly. "...Schezar..."
Misinterpreting the look for something else, she leaned forward as if confiding a secret. "Yes, I'm Allen's sister, but don't you worry a bit. He's a real softy when you get down to it." She winked and drew back slightly.
Swallowing, Van was left momentarily speechless. He mentally gave himself a slap and tried to regroup. "Not... that I've noticed... Lady Serena..." he managed.
Serena's nose wrinkled at the formal title but she smiled all the same. "Oh? So you've meet oniisan?" She withdrew her hand. "How silly of me, of course you have. You were talking to him earlier weren't you?"
"We've met," Van said dryly. He could not stop himself from studying her face, seeking something, some hint... "You... you've been well since your... return, Lady Serena?"
"I... you know..." she paused a moment, fully returning the stare, veiled under polite confusion. Yes, he *was* familiar, probably one of the friends her brother kept mentioning. "Yes. I've been well, thank you." She smiled again, if a little more coolly.
Van closed his eyes briefly. "I... again I apologize. I'm not... good at these court games of politeness."
Her face lost a little of its hard edges and regained its smile. "It's alright, to tell you a secret neither am I. My brother goes on and on about it, but I would rather yawn in privacy than surrounded by a bunch of just as boring people. I..." Serena looked up as a few resonant notes of trumpeted rose up over of castle halls. "The ceremony's starting!" Serena grinned widely, "I have to find a place so he doesn't see me! He's got this weird thing about me being at fights."
Serena sighed, playing up the dramatics. "I'll see you after, o Fanelia." She paused and winked at Van. "And you still owe me that kiss!"
Running more like a tomboy than a lady, Serena disappeared again into the crowd.
Van stared after her, suddenly feeling a distinct urge to follow. No... that would... the impulse was remarkably strong. Quelling it would require some positive action. Gritting his teeth, he turned and began making his way to the Marshall of the Tournament.
Serena gathered the excess of her too frilly skirt into her arms as she ran down the back hallways of the arena. /You would think that he'd at least let me wear a different color,/ she mused as she swung around another corner, spurred on by the cheering of the crowds already seated. /At least a red, not this horrible pink stuff./
"Lady Serena!" a familiar voice caught her before she could get more than three steps into the stands.
Serena slid to a stop, her slippers making it difficult to get any sort of traction on the smooth floor. "Ehheheh Gaddes-san! Fancy meeting you here!"
Serena smoothed down her skirts, trying to make herself presentable quickly.
The handsome young man smiled, and shook his head. He knew in his heart that Allen's attempt to keep his little sister away from anything that might disturb her was doomed, but he could hardly refuse the heartfelt request for assistance.
"You know your brother would rather you didn't watch the fights - there's your health to think of. The excitement..." he said in a friendly way. She really was irresistible.
She took the look on the man's face as a good sign and fixed him with her brightest smile. "Oh but it couldn't hurt! I mean if you escorted me and all. He couldn't object if you were there." /And he didn't know about it,/ she added silently. "Anyway! How will I know what to avoid if I don't see what's so bad about it."
Gaddes took a deep breath and shook his head firmly. "Now, Serena, you know I can't do that. In this case, I agree with him," he admitted, though he still felt it was a near-doomed effort. "You were found in the middle of the biggest battle on Gaea. There's no way to tell what traumas you suffered. It's not worth the risk of bringing those things back to you, sweet lady. Please, let me walk you back to your rooms, now."
"To my rooms?" she sighed, "Very well, I'll be Allen's dutiful sister again, I suppose. But could you do me just a teennnyyyyy little favor first?"
Suppressing a sigh of relief, Gaddes cocked his head slightly. "If I can, of course. What would that be?"
"I left the purse Allen gave me in that alcove, could you get it? I'll go straight to my room," she stared at her feet, feigning disappointment. Her hands were clasped behind her back.
Gaddes looked over to where she was indicating. "Of course, just a moment," he said, patting her arm in a brotherly fashion. He went over to the alcove and looked. Hmmm. No purse.
Uncrossing her fingers, she shucked off her slippers and ran on bare feet for speed. Ten seconds, and she was safely in the sea of finery and feathers that made up the audience.
Moving quickly, she tucked herself in the cranny offered by a pillar's junction with the wall, and settled in to watch the show.
Looking up and around, Gaddes realized he'd been duped. He made a noise of exasperation and all but threw up his hands.
She'd missed the tournament opening and the first bout but her neighbors assured her that there would be many more to come.
Serena leaned forward, swinging her feet as the next pair came out. The announcer called out two names she didn't recognize.
Both men held themselves well, but all the flowing clothes... she couldn't see how they fight without hindrance. /Strutting peacocks,/ she giggled to herself. Lightweight swords danced as the men circled each other, testing the other's skills with tentative thrusts and swipes of metal.
A blade was knocked high. The other man recovered quickly, swinging his own into the new opening, and placing the tip at the others throat. Half-hearted cheers and applause sprinkled through the audience as the opponent threw down his blade and conceded defeat. Serena leaned over to her closest neighbor. "What's wrong? Seemed like a good fight?"
The man snorted and glanced at Serena out of the corner of his eye. "It was over too quickly."
"Isn't the point to win though?" she asked, frowning slightly. "A quick victory would just mean that it was a clean fig...."
"Shh! The next fight is up! This one should be better!"
The announcer was, as the man predicted, stepping out onto the field again. "For His Majesty's pleasure! Van Slanzar Fanel o Fanelia and Third Heavenly Knight Kaerin Tomant o Asturia!"
"Van? Van's fighting? Oh, this should be good." Ignoring her neighbors grumbling, she stood up to get a better view of the two moving onto the field.
Van found himself on the field, wondering how he had again managed to circumvent his brain and end up here in spite of all his thoughts to the contrary. One minute he was being confronted by ... her... and the next, he was presenting himself to the Marshall of the Tournament. He looked over at the Asturia knight who was his opponent. He had no reason to fight this man.
Suppressing a deep sigh, he pulled his years of training back, remembering the constant round of mock-battles Vargas had kept him busy with. It's a training exercise, he thought, settling a hand on his sword. Best not to look too foolish in front of the assembled - that would dishonor Fanelia.
He unsheathed and lifted his sword, with Fanelia's crest, in a salute as Vargas had taut him, squaring to brace his legs.
The other knight returned the salute with a long sweep of his sword, cutting the air with a whistle as he bowed. Straightening, he set his stance defensively, eyeing the smaller man nervously. There were few that hadn't heard of the king of Fanelia's fearsome reputation on the battlefield.
Kaerin charged, his saber low and sweeping an inch from a ground, pressing for the first attack.
Van recognized the defensive posture of his opponent and almost sighed. He'd been hoping to take that stance himself. It wasn't going to work. He was too well trained. He could hear Vargas' voice in his ears as if the old man was standing behind him. Suddenly, it all came back in a rush and he moved, swift and graceful, affecting none of the flourishes the Asturia swordsmen deemed so necessary. His attack was sudden and deadly and only Van knew that he was in fact pulling his blows.
A flash of panic flew over Kaerin's face before it was masked by the determination the Knights were known for. Falling back on his heels, he fought just to keep his blade in front of him. His hands and arms aching from the hard blows he deflected from the heavier sword.
Sweat poured down his face as he feinted to the right, looking for any opening in the other man's set of aggressive attacks. He had gone into the fight relying on the speed of the lighter blade to counter Fanelia's heavier sword, but the other man was unbelievably fast.
Suddenly Van found himself wishing it were Allen he faced after all. This all felt... unfair somehow. He left his sword slide down the length of the other man's lighter sabre and then pushed roughly, jumping back as he did so, placing a couple of feet of space between the two of them to give the young man facing him a moment to catch his breath.
In a desperate last defense, the Knight lunged forward, locking hilts with Van's sword, catching his breath as metal scraped metal. "You're good," he panted over crossed blades.
"No choice," Van muttered, more to himself than to the other knight.
The Knight narrowed his eyes, taking in one gulp of air. "There's always a choice," he returned, before pushing his blade off of Van's. He brought his saber to bear, taking the offensive.
Hearing the knight's words, Van felt at least a hundred years old. Hope you always think so, he thought. Then he saw the attack coming and reacted without thinking, slapping the other man's weapon away with frightening speed, his own sword coming towards the young knight's face. Suddenly something seemed to wake him up and he stopped the blow an inch from the man's face.
All the warning Kaerin got was some subconscious thought burbling to the surface, a warrior's instinct telling him that something in his opponent's eyes was wrong, and it suddenly wasn't a game. His sword was knocked to the side painfully, with an effortless sweep of the heavier blade. Terror and adrenaline surged through his veins as he stared down, cross-eyed, the length of the gleaming blade of Fanelia. /I'm dead./ was the only thought as his eyes squeezed shut, waiting for it.
Frozen, muscles locked, Van stared down, his chest moving to pull in oxygen. Realizing what he'd almost done, he backed up with a hiss and thrust his sword into the packed dirt of the arena floor.
"Forfeit," he said, trying to master his self-disgust. "I forfeit. You win."
The Knight's eyes flew open. "You can't. By your honor, you've won." Kaerin dropped his own blade with a muffled clatter to the ground. He dropped to one knee and bowed deeply.
Van shuddered internally. He walked to the young man and pulled him up. His voice too low for anyone but the other knight to hear, he said, "Forgive me. It wasn't fair. I have no business doing this."
Kaerin swayed a bit on his feet studying the hard-set features of the other man. Slowly, that same warrior's instinct pinged against something internal, and he nodded cautiously. "Fair or not, they will call the fight." He tilted his head, listening to the roar of the crowds, forgotten before then in the rush of metal and adrenaline. "And have by the sound of things." He held out his hand for the other man.
Van took his hand, almost hesitantly. "Fine. Then it's over," he said.
The Knight nodded, sweeping up his sword from it's fallen spot. "Still, you're the best I've ever traded blows with. I'd dare say you are more fit to be a Knight than many of us." With that he drew his sword up into a formal salute, and walked a bit stiffly towards the Arena's arched exit.
Van watched him, thinking a number of things, not the least concerning his own fitness to be a knight. He grabbed the hilt of his sword and sheathed it, giving the barest of glances at the crowd watching from all sides. Without further acknowledgement, he walked off the field.
Serena sat, numb and staring at nothing in particular. She knew she was somewhere, the hoarse calls around her and the song of metal against metal seemed so distant.
As the fight replayed itself behind unseeing eyes, Serena's stomach turned irrationally. Something about the match that had taken place below her made her breath catch painfully. Flashes of hissed words over locked swords, adrenaline, came to her mind. A poison laced voice - /I can't stand you./ Both opponents shoving apart...
/I hate you!/ Pushed off.
"Lady, are you all right?"
/I despise you!/ A wild swing, met with just as wild a parry. Passion and bloodlust making the match even for the inexperienced opponent. A distraction and an opening taken.
"You look a bit pale."
Pain burning her cheek, the pattern of blood falling to the floor, one drop at a time, framed by a lock of white hair, scarring him forever. "Akuma."
"Huh?" Her well meaning neighbor asked, shuddering as the woman in brocade and lace in the next seat fixed glassy eyes on him, talking a bit too slowly.
"He's not human. A devil. A demon." With a grimace of pain, the woman stood up and ran, leaving the audience around her confused.
"Serena!" Gaddes' voice called, as he spotted the quickly moving form darting out of the arena. He frowned, the brief glimpse of her face disturbing him.
The figure stilled, much like before, but an aura of something being vaguely wrong with her posture radiated off of her. Just barely to be heard above the crowd's muted murmur and the crisp Asturian sea breezes, her voice, broken, floated back. "Serena...." The name was slowly voiced, as if she were tasting it as she spoke.
Gaddes frown deepened, and he cross the distance between them quickly. Reaching out, he took a firm but gentle grip on her upper arm. "Come now, you've had your fun with Gaddes... let's go back to your rooms..."
Muscles beneath his hand coiled under his touch instantly. Serena whirled around, backhanding him across the face with bruising force.
She stared down at her hand, stunned. The familiar, half-pleasant pain snapped her at least partially out of her trance-like state. "Oh my! Gaddes! I'm so sorry!" She rushed over to him.
Gaddes stared, his hand moving up to his face, which hurt like hell. One of her rings had cut his cheek, and he felt a warm trickle. /Oh gods,/ he thought. /Allen.../ Taking a breath, he swallowed. "It's nothing, Serena," he said. "Please... let's go back to your rooms... now."
Serena's eye glazed again as she watched the blood run down the other man's cheek. Shaking both mentally and physically, she reached out a hand. "Oh gods, I did that.... Your cheek! No you have to go to the infirmary now!"
"Serena!" he said, his tone more forceful than he'd ever used with her. "I'll go there once you are safe. I'm sorry, I must insist!"
"Safe.... my room.... but I was just in my room, wasn't I?" she looked around, seeming to snap fully awake at last. "But... no. I was watching Van fight and ... yes, I think I'll got to my room.... will you take me there?" She looked up at him, a lost expression settling upon her features.
Gaddes felt his heart sink about to his knees but he nodded. He reached out, slowly, and placed a tentative arm around her shoulders, then urged her to walk with him down the hallway.
As they passed the entryway where knights were coming and going, a young man dressed in the red of Fanelia emerged, all but cutting them off. He stepped back quickly, without looking up, muttering an almost inaudible apology. Then something caught his attention and he glanced up, recognizing Serena. His eyes fastened on the arm around her shoulders and he scowled at Gaddes as if he had never seen the man before.
Serena for her part was still wandering in the haze, it was much more comfortable than the twisted emotions trying to intrude into her safe little world. Briefly, her eyes caught a flash of red. Her favorite color brightened her mood and banished her uncertainty. She traced the red shirt up to meet half-obscured cinnamon eyes. Carefully, she disengaged herself from Gaddes.
"Van! There you are," she smiled, if a bit weakly, curtsying to the young man.
Gaddes' face went white as a sheet and he groped the air for Serena, but she'd stepped out of reach.
Van stood, watching the graceful curtsy with a little too much intensity. "S-serena," he said, forcing some form of manners to his mouth. "Gaddes," he said, though why it seemed to come out of grit teeth even Van wasn't sure.
With the grace borne of a dancer, she slipped Gaddes' grasp another time, moving to Van's side. With a cheerful wave at her protector she slipped her arm through Van's. "I seem to recall a promise to meet you after. Would you escort me o Fanelia?" She smiled at him and looked him over. "And where have you been? You're all messy! Do you want me to show you where the baths are?" she inquired, hardly giving the king again any time to speak.
He'd been on his way to bathe the sweat and dust away, and would just as soon have left her standing there, but the touch of her arm against his had a strange effect. It seemed to both soothe and excite him. He saw the expression on Gaddes' face, which was nothing less than a deadly warning to leave it alone.
Serena caught the eye of Gaddes with a mischievous grin far more familiar to her face than the glossy look of mere moments ago. "Why my dear Gaddes, you look like you've swallowed a lemon."
Less than a second later, the soldier looked even worse. He spotted someone behind Van whose attention was now caught. The tall blond's figure was unmistakable. Allen had seen the three of them.
Serena turned slowly following the soldier's gaze with trepidation. "Oniisan," she managed, her voice wavering slightly. "What a sur-surprize!"
Allen wrapped a hand firmly around his sister's arm, his face shuttered and expressionless. "I think it's time you got back to your studies imouto-chan?"
Serena looked down. "Hai."
Allen shot a glance at Gaddes, his eyes briefly reflecting the fire behind them. "And you and I will talk later." With a stiff bow to Van, he sought to excuse himself.
Van met Allen's look, and his own expression was as stiff as the blond swordsman's bow. His eyes flickered back to Serena and the stiffness changed to something that might almost have been confusion. "Lady Serena," he managed. Then he turned and sought a way out of the group in another direction.
Serena stiffened briefly, watching the back of the tank top recede. /He's distracted. His back to me again, the fool. I could just.../
"Serena?" Her brother's worried voice broke through the foreign musings. She smiled up at him brightly, those thoughts completely forgotten.
"Yes?"
Shooting one last glance towards Gaddes, he turned his sister gently and began leading her to the rooms. "Let us depart then." Pausing for a moment, he half turned. "And Gaddes, be sure to extend our apologies to Lord Van?"
Gaddes blinked and then nodded, shuddering internally. "Of course."
Serena walked at a stately pace beside her brother, careful to keep her lessons on "grace fit for a lady" in mind. Her brother was always more reasonable when she acted like she "ought" to in front of him, and judging from his expression, she figured she'd need every ounce of good favor she could get.
"I don't suppose," she began demurely, looking pointedly at her arm. "I could walk on my own brother mine?"
Allen looked down and his expression softened. "You've outgrown a brother's affection, then?" he said quietly.
She returned the look with a warm smile. "I could never tire of affection. It's a weight I'm sure I could bear." /Now a brother's protection.../ she added mentally.
Allen left the hand on her arm, but he loosened his grip slightly. "Please tell me if it becomes too heavy," he answered.
"Of course," she affirmed cheerfully, not letting her mental scowl at the constraining hand show through. He meant well, she knew, he really did. Looking up at him from the corner of her eye, she said softly, "I'm not going to disappear you know."
Allen glanced down, and his blue eyes held a deeply buried pain, which he rarely allowed her to see. "I... know, Serena," he said softly.
Entering their suites, he let her arm slip away once they were inside.
Her smile instantly became more genuine as she darted away, flopping into a thickly cushioned chair with ill grace. "Ah! My pretty gilded cage!"
Watching her with affection, concern, and a deep sense of misgiving, Allen walked over to a table and opened a carafe, pouring golden liquid into a silver goblet. "I'm sorry, Serena," he said. He lifted the bottle in a silent question.
She waved the apologies away as well as the bottle. This was an old conversation, and she had long since tired of it.
Serena propped her elbow on the armrest of her chair, her chin cupped in her hand as she watched her brother's actions. Perhaps it was time to add a new angle to the old. "Can you tell me about Van?"
Allen's eyes narrowed slightly. "All right. If you tell me how you met him, first?"
"Oh, I was going to my room of course, and I stumbled upon him. He looked rather troubled, so I thought I'd cheer him up. He says he's met you before. Is he one of your old friends?"
"Yes, I suppose that's the best way to put it," Allen answered, sitting on the edge of the table, as he drank from the goblet. "We... fought together in the war. He's the king of Fanelia. A young king of a near devastated country. He doesn't leave it much." /So you won't have many chances to see him, leave it alone Serena,/ he thought silently.
She tilted her head, her nose wrinkling delicately, "Oh I know all of that. I can get all of that from texts and gossipy courtiers. But now that I've seen him, I'm intrigued. Tell me something I don't know! He's rather mysterious don't you think?" She turned eyes, glittering with curiosity, on her brother.
Allen winced inwardly. He disliked what he was about to say... but on the other hand, the emotions he'd felt when he saw Van linked arm-in-arm with his sister were still close enough to make it not too unpalatable.
"He's not mysterious," he said flatly. "He's rather single-minded. He thinks of nothing but Fanelia. The poor country doesn't have a proper court yet so he's assumed the manners of a country bumpkin. Because he's a king, he can get away with it. I don't think he's a proper companion for you, Serena."
She frowned slightly. "Nor would I be a proper companion to most any of the simpering excuses for men we have in our court. It sounds like Fanelia's divine; at least he doesn't have to put up with all this nonsense."
"Serena!" Allen said sharply. He paused a moment. "Those aren't the sentiments of a well-bred young lady," he said. Then his expression softened. "Is it really that bad, sister?"
Serena visibly deflated, leaning back into her seat. "No... it isn't." she sighed softly. She could never bear to disappoint him when he took that particular tone and expression. "I do have you back. I don't know much... but I know I missed you..." she said quietly, her eyes glued to the floor.
Allen set the goblet down and went over, kneeling beside her chair. He lifted one of her hands in his. "Let me take you back to our estate in the country. If court bores you so..."
She looked up sharply, an irrational panic and a flash of a red shirt and dark eyes passed through her mind. "But brother! We just got here! There HAS to be more to see than just the court. Can't we stay a bit? The festival is soon!"
Allen stared into her eyes and sighed. "As you wish, Serena," he said. "I just think you'd be safer... but I... I don't want you to feel like a prisoner."
She pulled her hand loose only to wrap her arms around her brother's shoulders. "Then set me free! Just for a day, I promise even *I* can't cause that much mischief in a day..."
Allen returned his sister's embrace but his heart froze. Her words were so reasonable and yet he couldn't risk it. What would you do, father? he thought. The answer came and it chilled him further.
He leaned back and studied her face. If he'd known at that moment what had taken place between her and Gaddes, the next words would never have left his lips.
"All.. right," he said slowly. "But one promise... no tournaments. You can explore the bazaar and experience the street festival. I'd feel happier if you take someone from the household with you. But please, Serena, stay away from the arena."
Her face had lit up brighter than it had ever in all the past few months. She wrapped her arms around her brother again in a joyful hug. "Thank you! I promise!" She kissed her brother's cheeks before bounding off to her closet. "What to wear... " She angled her head back at Allen. "Are you SURE I can't ask the tailors for a tunic and leggings? These dresses trip me up." She pouted.
Already feeling his heart sinking a little, he shook his head firmly. "An outfit like that would invite discourtesy, Serena. Most people will behave courteously but there are rougher elements who wouldn't dare touch a lady, but might think nothing of overstepping the bounds of decency if you don't signal your station with every aspect."
Serena frowned over the wild plumage of one of the lady's hats a courtier had seen fit to give her. "I can take care of myself you know. I bet I could beat half the Heavenly Knights if you'd just let me take sword lessons. After all, excellence must run in the family." She grinned and tossed the hat aside, rummaging for something less showy.
Her preoccupation prevented her from seeing the slight paling of her brother's face at that remark. "Certainly skill, if not excellence," he muttered softly.
"Huh?" she looked over her shoulder, only half catching the words.
"Stop teasing me about sword lessons," he said firmly. "I won't place you in that kind of danger."
"All right, all right," she said fondly, walking back over to her brother to give him a quick kiss on his forehead. "What do you think?" She held up a black dress, mildly sequined, but tastefully cut not to restrict movement, a red sash bringing a diagonal splash of color across its length.
Allen rolled his eyes. "Black? But you look so much better in lighter colors! What about the blue..."
"Blue?" she grinned, feigning being wounded. "It would clash with my eyes. Why wear such a ...such a... lesser color!"
The mental image of Serena dressed in black and red disturbed Allen. He glanced at her closet. "The lavender, then...?"
She studied the cloth thoughtfully for a moment before putting aside the dress she had picked. "Sure, why not." Serena picked the dress up from its place on the rod and held it up to her. "Better?"
"Lovely," he said, nodding. He had a sense of trying to contain a whirlwind that was going to break free of his grasp in time. When that happened...
Serena had gathered up her things in her brother's distraction. "I'm going to head to the ladies' baths and change." She paused, a worried expression crossing her face. "Brother, you need to stop worrying, it's not good for your health. You should take a rest and relax, I'm sure Gaddes or one of the other roughnecks will keep the world spinning right for you."
Allen forced a smile to his lips, while thinking somewhat uncharitable thoughts about Gaddes - her words reminding him of the events just before. "I'm relaxing, never fear," he said lightly.
"Good!" Serena returned, a smile turning up the edges of her eyes. She reached out and ruffled her brother's hair before skipping back. "Believe it or not I worry about you sometimes, brother mine." With that, she grabbed her purse and toiletry before breezing out of the room.
Allen watched her go and the moment she was out of sight, his expression became more than worried... it was strained and almost angry. "If I could only find each and every sorcerer and personally remove their hearts, you might see much less worry, sweet sister," he said softly into the empty room.
END OF PART 1!