Twisted Fortune - An Escaflowne Fanfiction
By Bonnejeanne and Nixers
Contact: bonnejeanne@yahoo.com and nixerchan@aol.com
Archive: Soon to be at Zaibach Soldier
Warnings: Spoilers, Mild lime
Notes: Set a little over one year after Vision of Escaflowne's end.
Chapter Six - Distortion
Part 11
Dryden was the first into the dining area this morning, a rare trait for him to get up so early, but it was also a rare occurrence that he didn't manage to catch some sleep the night before. Even those days when the muse of an idea or plan had struck him, he'd tended to set it aside in favor of the conveniences of such things as eating and sleeping.
With little of his normal presence, he'd picked out a meal and found his usual spot at their customary table, only half expecting, that like the dinner before, it would be a solitary meal.
A whisper of movement behind him was the only warning of Merle's arrival. She placed her plate on the table and sat down, her eyes a bit more downcast and evasive than usual. She was clean and dressed in a fresh smock and her gold-red hair was brushed neatly back from her face.
"Morning Dryden-sama," she said in a smaller voice than usual. She looked at the empty places, clearly uneasy about them, and picked disinterestedly at her food.
"Good morning, my lady," Dryden returned, though even to his ears the attempt fell flat. "Slept well I hope?"
She glanced up at him, revealing gold eyes with slightly reddened lids. "Millerna is your lady, not me," she said pointedly, and then looked away quickly. "M'not hungry. Someone should take food to Van-sama, he must be sick..."
/No, I don't think she ever was,/ he answered silently, still not able to vocalize what he'd long suspected. "We can give them a few more minutes, the last bell hasn't rung..."
"*Them*," Merle repeated, frowning at the innocent and now slightly mangled morsels on her plate. Suddenly she sprang up, leaving the plate, and headed for the doorway to the west wing.
"Merle wait!" Dryden called after her, abandoning his rather untouched meal as well. Drawing up beside the catgirl. "May I talk to you instead?"
Merle stopped almost unwillingly but did not turn towards him. Her shoulders squared, quivering, and then slumped. "Leave them alone, right? Okay, okay..."
"No," he said, if flinching inwardly a little. "Yesterday, in my study.... it was left rather... unfinished."
That did make her look at him, her eyes no longer angry or agitated, but gently shining with unresolved emotions. "No," she contradicted him softly. "Nothing to finish, Dryden... sama." She took a deep breath and said quickly, before she lost her nerve, "What I just said at the table was rude. M'sorry..."
"And inaccurate," he said. "She's not....she's probably always been Allen's lady."
Merle's eyes filled with indignant frustration. "Just because she throws herself at him doesn't mean he wants to catch her..." Then she put a paw over her mouth in shock. She looked at Dryden with deep empathy. "You love her..."
"As Van loved Hitomi, I'd imagine." He shook his head. "Though he was a bit luckier than I in that respect. She did care for him, if not returned the feeling."
Merle looked at him and kept the paw over her mouth. A barely audible whisper emerged from behind it. "You're cared for..."
"..... I know," Dryden admitted. "I just need time to adjust to the idea..." He gave her a rueful smile. "It's a rather foreign thing for me."
She blinked, trying to keep the moisture in her eyes from spilling. "Don't have to... adjust..." she said just as softly. "Not to me... I'm not important... just wanted you to know, but it doesn't have to mean anything... you don't have to..."
"It does mean something, because you *are* important," he regarded her with distinct concern. "How did you get the idea otherwise?"
Merle didn't want to answer but his eyes pulled things from her. "You're... smart and... kind and... wise and... and I'm just a k-kid..." she said unwillingly.
Dryden frowned, "That doesn't make me important, just learned. A kid.... how old in years, is normal for a neko-jin to be considered an adult? You haven't been acting much like a kit, not for a while."
"Y-yes I have," she whispered. "B-because... you thought it was...c-cute..."
Dryden blinked. "You don't have to act that way for me..."
"Know I don't *hafto*..." she managed. "I-I like it when you s-smile..."
A hint of an embarrassed grin touched his face at that. "I don't know what to say..."
Merle sighed and wiped her eyes with the back of her paw. "Say we're still friends..."
"Always that," he promised. "No matter what." He nodded to her.
She nodded back, her eyes still a little sad but she covered it with more determination. "Then I'll try not to want more than that," she said, and dropped her eyes, summoning an only slightly tremulous smile.
"Don't..." he paused. It occurred to him that for all the words he knew, none of them seemed to present themselves in aide of this situation. "... consider it closed, I just need time to consider. This is something I would regret not deciding with all my heart."
"When things are less hectic perhaps we can try again, only not so unsteadily," he offered.
Merle placed a paw lightly on his lips to stop his speech. Looking sudden quite a bit older and wiser, she said simply, "Whatever you want, Dryden-sama." Then she turned back in the direction of the dining hall. A soft phrase floated back over her shoulder as if not entirely meant for his ears. "Hearts don't decide... they just feel."
Dryden ran his hand through his hair, before moving in the opposite direction, back to his rooms. It was probably against his better judgment, he admitted to himself, but he needed to be alone for a while.
_
Light filtered in through her room's window, the bright light behind her eyelids slowly drawing Serena out of her dreams. Wincing slightly at its direct glare, she gave a disparaging noise before trying to turn over. She froze up slightly as a warm pair of arms around her prevented her usual range of motion.
Almost hesitantly, she peered over at the well tanned body beside her. Bits and pieces of last night came back to her and she relaxed, snuggling a bit deeper into the blankets and embrace. This waking up thing didn't seem quite so bad this morning, she thought with no trace of the usual grumpiness that accompanied dawn.
Van felt the movement distantly and his arms tightened, pulling her closer to his side. He murmured something muffled and inaudible, nuzzling against her neck without opening his eyes. The scent of her, the soft smoothness of her skin and the warmth of her body called him out of sleep and into light, and the beginnings of heat.
"S'rena," he murmured, more audibly this time, and his nuzzling turned to warm, moist kisses on her neck.
"Mmm?" she returned sinking bonelessly deeper into the bed. One of her hands untangled themselves from the bedding to run her fingers through his messy hair. "You have until eternity to stop that," she mumbled with contentment.
His breath moved in soft puffs against her skin as he chuckled. Taking a deep breath, he leaned up and his mouth found hers, initiating a long, slow, deep kiss of mutual abandon.
Quite a while later he lifted his head, shaking the hair out of his eyes reflexively, and looked down into her face. His eyes moved over her as if committing everything to eternal memory.
She regarded him through lazy lidded eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips at his gesture. "Every thought of cutting those?" She traced a line on his forehead, sweeping aside the bangs that had inevitably fallen in front of his eyes again.
"Hmmm?" he blinked down at her. "Oh. Is it time again? Merle..."
"I hadn't heard anyone..." she shifted a bit. "Looks like we missed breakfast too."
"No... Merle cuts my hair," he said, mouth curving in a smile. "About twice a year..."
She gave him a mock contemplative look. "Does she use scissors?"
He frowned thoughtfully. "Um... I think the last time she used a knife... why?"
Her grin spread a touch. "No reason. To tell the truth I have the same problem sometimes."
"Problem?" he looked innocent.
"Well, not exactly catgirls coming at me with knives but," she tugged on one of his bangs.
He smiled and tenderly brushed her hair back, watching it wave. "I don't see any problem," he said softly.
She grinned leaning up to give him a quick kiss, "That's because your bangs are in the way."
Tilting his head, he looked at her with comic puzzlement. "Oh..." Then he sighed. He kissed her forehead and then her lips. "I thought it was because you were beautiful."
She pretended to examine her nails. "Well, that too."
Van took her hand and kissed her fingers. "Good... I'd hate to be wrong about that," he said, and pulled her up until she was laying across his chest. "I've never felt this happy. Ever."
She smiled at him. "Me either, not even a hint of a feeling like this." She paused, the inevitable floating through her mind. "What do we do now?"
"We live," he answered, without a hint of doubt in his eyes. "Allen will understand. We'll make him understand. It will be all right." He took her hand and kissed the palm and then the wrist. "I'll make sure of it."
"I think I can live with that," She settled more fully, crossing her arms on his chest and resting her chin upon them in turn. "I trust you."
He nodded, settling his own arms around her. "There are things I have to tell you," he began. "Important things you have to know. Things I'd rather not think about myself but I can't be a coward. Because of the rumors... of war."
A line appearing between her brows was the only sign of consternation she shown. "That... I'd forgotten about the rumors for a while," she admitted.
Van watched her steadily. "I can't forget. I have to protect my people. There's no one else to do it. Allen is a mighty knight and a warrior but he doesn't shoulder the defense of Asturia alone. I have no choice."
"Who says that you're shouldering it alone," she challenged.
Taking a breath, he smiled very slightly. "I thought I was.... no?"
"Nope, I'd say you are stuck with me, like it or not. I'd wager that your family here would argue it with you too."
He looked down for a moment. "All right. But I didn't mean it like that. I just wanted you to understand. You said we were an unimportant country... and it's true, Serena. Once we had four samurai, generals, and small armies, but even those are gone. But Fanelia has a guardian."
"The one in the Sanctuary?" she hazarded.
He nodded, still watching her closely. "Our guardian-god is a guymelef. Escaflowne."
She paused, looking down slightly. "It's...... familiar."
"You knew it before," he said softly. "And if peace continues, you will never need to know it again. But if Fanelia is attacked, I will pilot it."
"This is what's worrying you?"
He closed his eyes for a moment. Then he looked at her and his gaze was clear. "Yes, part of it. A great part of it. Escaflowne... is not like a normal melef. Only kings of Fanelia can pilot it. And only with a bond of blood."
Serena remained silent, content to let him say whatever was on his mind. She couldn't seem to make herself imagine what this guardian was, just the name of it made her stomach knot painfully. Normally, she would have been curious, but something seemed to have changed since last night, probably having to do with the warmer feelings she woke up with.
Van continued to watch her, hiding nothing and open to her expressions, her body and her mood. "I was trying to hide it from you yesterday," he said quietly. "Escaflowne saved my life... and others, many times. But I... did terrible things with it. Things I wanted to leave behind and never think about again. When Allen said there were rumors of war... I thought..." he took a deep breath. "I knew I might have to face it again."
"It... the past or Es... the guardian?"
He reached up gently and stroked her back soothingly. "They are one and the same, Serena."
She relaxed slightly beneath his touch, not having even been aware of when she'd tensed up. "I think I was right last night. It's not that great of a guardian. It didn't seem to protect you at all."
He hugged her tightly against him for a moment. Then he smiled, a slightly crooked smile. "You might be right," he said. "But I can't do anything about it. It's both my right and my obligation. I was raised to it. Bred to it. Before I could be coronated, I had to kill a dragon to take a living energist for it, to bring it to life. If I'd failed, the line of Fanel would have ended."
"But, I can't help but wonder, why you don't get rid of it, find a new succession," she frowned. "If that is the only thing that might attract enemies here... and you are the only one that can pilot it... it's useless if you discard it."
Van cocked his head slightly, listening to her. What she was suggesting were things he had never thought of, could never have thought of. Thoughtfully he traced the line of her neck with a finger.
"I... don't know," he said finally. "I never questioned it. Even... even when Folken... my brother... showed me the truth about dragons." He looked at her and added, "You see, I did understand how you felt, about being restricted."
She tilted her head slightly, thinking back to an earlier conversation, "I suppose the next step after doing it so many times you forget to stop, is forgetting to question why your doing it." Serena shrugged, looking away from him. "I don't like the thing. I know that much."
Van continued to stroke her back and occasionally smooth her hair. At last he said, "I can't... see it any more. Not from the outside."
She looked up at him, her puzzlement plain, "Van?" she asked.
He tried to find a way to explain but all that would come to him was, "It's more like looking through my own eyes... you can hold up a mirror but it isn't like looking at something real."
She shook her head slightly, a grin returning to her lips, "And here I was going to comment that it's been a whole day since you confused me last."
He smiled, almost shyly. "I can't say that. It confuses me why you allowed me to be here... with you." He kissed her, making it linger a while before he leaned back.
"It feels right," she offered, slowly. To think contrary hadn't occurred to her before. "I'm not going to argue with the result."
"It feels right," he answered her back, each word expressing a wealth of emotions and meanings. "More right than anything."
She laughed, her lips quirking upwards. "Who would have thought from that first meeting, you looking spooked and me not much better. I thought I was going to be a wall-hanging in the next moment."
He smiled, watching her laugh to imprint it to memory. "Who would have thought..." he repeated. Then his lips curved slightly more. "You'd make a nice wall-hanging... lovely in fact..."
She smirked, "True, but on that balcony? Imagine what the sea air would do to my hair."
Grinning, he tumbled her over onto her back. "But I would not have been able to leave you on the balcony. I'd have had to take you home with me.... hmmm... I did!"
"I love a man with a good taste in art," she purred.
He laughed, a still-surprised-to-be-laughing kind of chuckle. "That's worrying," he answered, trying unfamiliar waters. "Dryden has renowned taste in art. Perhaps I should keep you clear of him, or he of you..."
"Oh, I don't know. He'd need to change that wardrobe," she said, pretending to think it over seriously. "I'm rather fond of red."
Van blinked, and something flashed behind his eyes for the briefest second, then he smiled slowly and said, "Yes, you would be..."
"Speaking of wardrobe, I'm glad I kept my old one. I don't think the purple will be of much use anymore."
Van closed his eyes and a slight flush stained his cheeks as he remembered why. "Um... sorry?" Then he looked at her with an odd expression. "Now it's clear why skirts are convenient."
She grinned and reached up, placed her hand on his forehead and pushed him off. "You, Van, are a pervert," she said with humor coloring her voice. She sat up, scanning the room for where her clothes had fallen.
"You brought it up," he pointed out. Kissing her nose, he got up reluctantly and disappeared into the next room, a bathing chamber.
Serena own her old clothes laying neatly folded on a low nightstand on the far corner of the bed, taking the opportunity, she quickly dressed, on a whimsy, tucking the red pendant into her tunic. Her eyes lit on the homespun cloth that the merchant the day before had wrapped her circlet in. It was now sitting, flung into a far corner.
Making a note to pay him later today to herself, she unwrapped the trinket, holding it up to the light of the sun just barely peeking in through the window. The stone was wrong, but maybe she could get it replaced. Amber wasn't that bad of a color anyway. She brushed back her bangs and slipped it on with a practiced familiarity.
It was turning to clean up the mess they'd made of her room that she first felt a wave of nausea, a familiar sick dizziness sweeping over her senses. /Not now,/ she pleaded with herself. She hadn't been sick since Asturia... but somehow it felt a touch off, different. Almost like one of those rare flashes of memory she'd have, a niggling touch of direction that was hard to ignore.
Dropping the bedspread, she opened the door to her room and slipped out, hoping that if she found out what was causing it, she could make it stop.
Van heard the door and returned to the room quickly but unalarmed, until her saw that Serena was not there. He felt a sudden sharp pain of loss, and an instant, electric sense of something wrong. In a few seconds he was out of the door, pulling on his shirt over half laced pants and looking wildly to the right and left to catch a glimpse of any retreating figure.
Serena by that time, had meandered her way down to the entryhall, seemingly oblivious to the staff wandering about on their morning chores and errands. She tries to pause for a moment, feeling something was very different and very dangerous about it, but the slight nagging had become almost overwhelming in its strength. She fell back against the wall near the entrance way, and slid down it, not hearing the well meaning voices asking questions of her.
It was just background noise to her, melding with the need to leave, in conflict with all of the promises she made. Clinging to that, she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ignore the impulse.
The voices around her stilled and people moved away quickly. In the next moment, Van was kneeling beside her. He saw the headband and his eyes widened but he concentrated on her face. "Serena," he said quietly, "What's wrong?"
She fought to focus, wrapping her mind around the single voice. Slowly the words formed phrases then a sentence in her mind. "That way," was all she answered, pointing to the northeast, and outside the door to the castle.
Van frowned, and snapped a quick order at someone behind him, who ran off. In a few seconds the man was back with the thing Van had asked for - his sword and belt. He slung it around his hips quickly and then lifted Serena to her feet, supporting her.
"All right," he said, keeping his voice calm and reassuring. "Can you walk?"
It was a few moments before she responded, her eyes shut with an effort not to leave Van behind. She nodded. "Yes, it's all I want to do."
He twined his fingers in hers, gripping her hand like a promise. "I'm here. Do what you have to do."
She nodded, then suddenly pulled him off, walking at a hurried pace through the city. She didn't seem to even notice the people as she walked, saved from collisions by the other parties watchfulness and quick step. It wasn't until the new buildings, scents of fresh timber and sawdust had given away entirely to that of encroaching woodlands that she even began to slow.
_
Serena paused for a moment around a particularly thick copse of woods, for a moment looking torn. Below her tunic, she felt a warmth pulse from the pendant beneath, clearing her mind for an instant. She glanced back at Van. "That way, not much farther," she mumbled.
Van's brows were drawn together in a fierce scowl, but he nodded readily enough. He felt his heart pounding in his chest and a certainty that something was threatening the unexpected and precious gift that had just come into his life. In spite of himself, he felt everything in him rising to meet the threat, to obliterate it, to destroy it utterly. He kept his fingers tightly twined with hers, but he'd drawn his sword and now held it naked in his right hand like an extension of his rising wrath.
She glanced from his face to his sword for a split second before squeezing his hand, with a grateful smile, before the troubled expression spread over her visage. With an effort she managed to move with a touch of caution.
With a deep breath, she pulled him towards the source of her confusion, breaking through the shield of the dense Fanelian trees into a small clearing.
The sight waiting was enough to drive one sense of determined confusion away with a more scattered one. She dropped Van's hand numbly, staring ahead. A golden furred figure, regal even in spite of obvious injuries and well groomed, a vision out of two pasts conflicting.
"Ja..juka?" she whimpered.
The beastman watched Serena with deep compassion gleaming in the one dark eye. For a bare moment, his look moved to Van, and a darker emotion flickered across his face, but it was quickly gone. He held out his hand to Serena.
"Come, child," he said, his resonant and melodious voice filled with deep love.
The moment Serena dropped Van's hand, the young king's eyes had widened in shock. Whatever he expected to see, this vision was not a part of it. The beastman was unfamiliar to him, but he had a sudden tingle of awareness, like an odd memory, and a flash of an image, of a guymelef slamming into him, interceding between Van and... and...
Even as his grip tightened on the sword in reflex, the blade beginning to rise, he felt a sharp blow on the back of the head, and crumpled, as pain and darkness swallowed him and took him away.
The haze of conflicting memories disappeared suddenly as she caught movement out of the corner of her eye, she whirled just in time to see Van crumble to the ground, a man in a Zaibach uniform standing over his too-still form. "Van!"
She tried to go to him, but before she managed another step, arms had wrapped around her from behind, unbreakable from her angle. A thought floated through her mind, distinct in the chaos and betrayal, that if she'd had a sword...
A sharp prick in her arm, and her mind swam, blackness swimming around the edges of her vision. "Jajuka," she managed as her struggled became sluggish.
Holding her firmly, the beastman knelt with Serena in his arms until she stilled, and then picked her up. He glanced at the fallen form of the Fanelian king, shaking his head. He'd never expected to see the two of them together, hands linked, and a tangible bond between them. This was... unexpected, and troubling.
"Bring him," Jajuka ordered the Zaibach soldier. "And... don't damage him. The wizards want him intact."
Then he moved back into the trees, where a metal giant kneeled, waiting. Placing Serena carefully in the guymelef's hand, he jumped into the cockpit and sealed it, as the machine came to life. Cradling Serena against the chest of the melef, the machine sprang into to air, shifting to flight mode, and streaked towards the northern mountains.
_
Serena woke up, one level at a time. Behind closed eyes, she tried to bring herself together. There was no pain, but a distinct discomfort arcing throughout her body. There was a smell to the air, a sterile disinfected sort of aroma, a touch acrid, a touch bitterly metallic. It was disturbingly familiar, making her stomach turn, and visions of featureless metal walls, dark despite the fanatical cleanliness, behind her eyes.
She forced her eyelids open, trying to fight off whatever lethargy had fallen on her, seeing fit to glue them shut. A soft hand brushed her cheek, warm and gentle.
"Van?" she whispered.
"You are home, child," the melodious voice answered softly. "He can't hurt you any more."
"No... was home," She looked up, squinting as she tried to focus. "Jajuka.."
The beastman continued to gently stroke her hair back, reaching up with a warm, moist cloth to bath her face and remove some of the dust and dried tears that had leaked from her eyes while she was unconscious. "You remember me. I'm glad."
"I could never forget you, Jajuka," she said, her voice gaining a bit of strength, even though her eyes were heavily lidded. "Why'm I here?" she asked, her eyes darting around. "Why can't I move?"
"To keep you safe," Jajuka said, making his voice as reassuring as he could. He knew that what was to come wasn't going to be pleasant. He knew that there would be pain and fear, and that his presence was in some way a betrayal, but he also knew that the wizards would do what they would do, with or without his compliance. "Until you understand. Then you'll be free again, I promise. And you'll have many things to do."
She shook her head weakly, trying to reach out to the familiar comfort of the beastman. "I was safe, I was free... We could go back Jajuka, we could both b.. Van? Where's Van?" She asked, her voice wandering wherever her thoughts slid. Some small part of her knew she wasn't making sense, but that part was hiding from the reality.
Her words caused a chill inside Jajuka's heart. He'd been trying to tell himself that this wasn't so bad... that Allen Schezar would never give her complete freedom, all the reports they had from spies in Asturia confirmed that, and that this life was better that a half-life among people who could never truly trust her. But to hear her say she was safe... and free... if true, it made this the cruelest act, as bad as the first time she'd been taken. But again, there was no answer to the certainty that this was not a fate she could escape.
Swallowing, he answered her question, evading the other words. "He is here," he said. "Alive, and... unhurt. Why... why does it matter, child?"
Serena's eyes closed as a small smile crossed her face. "He made me free, and safe, and he kept the nightmares away," her voice was almost childlike in how soft it was. "Love 'im," she murmured. Her eyes snapped open, mood shifting instantly. "You're alive though! I dreamed you died, Jajuka."
"Not quite," the beastman answered with a little smile. "This man you... love... didn't quite manage to kill me. Soon the nightmares will all be over, child, and you will be able to hunt again, and run, and fight, and command."
The gentle, firm words touched something inside her, an eagerness fought with a rising sense of fear. A cold feeling was filling her stomach. "I don't ..understand..." Her eyes widened with a look of panic as they fixed on Jajuka's face. "I don't want to wake up!"
Jajuka frowned, hearing the emotion and the significance, though he could not guess it's meaning. "Then don't, child. Serena... don't wake.... sleep. Sleep, Serena. Sleep..."
The simple phrases soothed her confused mind, aided by a natural trust for the face above her. A small smile again tugged at her lips. "Sleep..." her eyes closed.
Still stroking her hair gently, the beastman's face became grimmer as her eyes closed. Perhaps he could make it easier if...
"Sleep, Serena," he murmured again, leaning over her, pitching his voice to a resonant, penetrating timbre. "Serena, sleep..... Dilandau... wake.... wake, my prince, it's time for you to come back..."
Beneath her tunic, the pendant flashed again as Serena's dreams turned briefly to fire, before disappearing entirely.
THE END OF PART 11