Twisted Fortune - An Escaflowne Fanfiction
By Bonnejeanne and Nixers
Contact: bonnejeanne@yahoo.com and nixerchan@aol.com
Warnings: Spoilers, Lemon
Notes: Set a little over one year after Vision of Escaflowne's end.
Chapter Five
Part 9
"Hai, Yukari-chan, Friday would be great.... I treated you the last time!" Kanzaki Hitomi smiled into the receiver of the telephone, looking at the ceiling as if searching for aid. "Sure! I don't mind, it will be nice to see Amano sempai again... I know! I can't believe it!"
She laughed, then her expression turned a little concerned. She wrung the phone cord around her hands and shifted from foot to foot. "Yukari! You promised you wouldn't ask again... Yes,... I know it's a special occasion but........" Hitomi smiled, fondness softening her eyes. "All right, just ONE reading.... Okay, I'll see you then! Bie-Bie!"
Hitomi hung up the phone, pacing slowly to her desk. Wrapped in silk lay her precious deck, untouched since she'd come home a year ago. The temptation was always there, to see how Van was doing, to ask the fates if she'd ever see him again, or if she'd find love here on her own soil.
Unwrapping the cards, she stared at the gold inlayed pentagram glittering at her temptingly. It couldn't hurt could it? Slowly she turned over the top card.
The King of Dragons. Van's card... Hitomi ran a finger along the serpent coiled across the face of the card. She promised Yukari... but ... a sense of nostalgia ran through her and her hand crept to where the faint but familiar weight of her pendant would have normally lain.
"Van," she smiled. "Things are well I hope."
She flipped a card from the top of the deck and laid it across the first. The eight of birds, Il Percilo. "Danger?"
Concerned Hitomi leaned forward over her desk. She had been hoping for some better news, perhaps a sign of fortune or health... maybe love...
She smiled, distracted by thoughts of what sort of girl would catch Van's attention. /Would she look like me? A fond memory of what might have been if I'd stayed./ Hitomi wondered. /Or someone so wildly different... to move on.../
/But danger? Maybe I shouldn't be surprised. Van always seemed to attract it. I don't think Van has ever known boredom... Maybe I should have left him my Calculus book./
Concentrating again, she flipped another card, setting it below the first pair, signifying it as an influence from the past. The card of the devil was revealed, inverted.
"Il Diavolo... Dilandau's card, but why inverted? Breaking free of some bondage, finding hope..." she mused, troubled. She drew another card, to clarify it. Flip. The upside-down figure of a man, hanging by his ankle - duality, the need to confront the past in order to go forward, stirring confusion and receiving stability.
Hitomi sighed, it made no sense to her. She had thought Dilandau was gone... perhaps it meant Serena then? But why would she be with Van? Is he... she being confused or confusing Van? No answered came to her.
Pushing aside the questions that only returned frustration, she turned over the next card, placing it carefully to the left of the developing cross pattern; the influence from the present. The Knight of Beasts - A warriors card, Allen-san? No, he fit the King of Birds so much better, so honorable, moral and articulate.
The Knight of Beasts was more stubborn, pessimistic. Whoever this was he had ambition and was driving toward it obsessively. There was a strong sense of honor and anger about this card. The card that crossed it was the five of beasts - conflict. Whoever it is, is the instigator... But for what ends?
She turned the next card, placing this one to the right, to reveal the future. La Morte... death. That usually meant some radical transformation or change... clarification- wheel of fortune... Destiny, things are at a turning point and paired with Death....
Slowly she drew another card, setting it at the top of the formation, what's started all of this. The chariot - Power gained through conflict, someone is reaching toward some goal violently if needs be. Ruthlessly. It had to be Zaibach again, unless some new element had risen in Zaibach's shadow? But what do they want?
Flip. The World .... Everything. They want Gaea.
Hitomi glanced out the window, searching the sky for something she knew was there, unseen amongst the sea of stars. The power to see the invisible... but it had only confused her more, and she'd gotten through the entire set without a single vision.... as if she were just telling a fortune for a friend, who was going to ask them out, or what would be the best movie for a Saturday night... not the well being of her first love.
"We really are worlds apart again," she sighed gathering up the cards and shuffling them back into the deck. Not for the first time, she felt a small pang of regret for leaving. /I didn't belong there. Life is going on without me, Van will be happier, I only brought him ill fortune.... Van, please be happy./ Hitomi's hands curled tightly around the worn cards. "I still believe in you," she whispered to the heavens.
Shaking her head, she turned away from the window. There were some nights when it was hard to believe it wasn't all some strange dream. She'd come back only moments from when she'd left. No one remembered the dragon, Van's appearance, either time... It was so easy to convince herself...
The reading made her feel more distant than ever. No vision came, flashing behind her eyes, telling her of what could be, of what she could do to somehow warn them, to prevent the terrible. She was at the same time both relieved and disappointed.
She resolutely turned her mind back to the cards. She wanted good news for her best friend. Amano had proposed today and Yukari needed an answer. Flip. The Lovers. Flip. The Star.
There was hope for them, her best friend and her first crush, in great abundance.
Hitomi smiled.
Merle woke with a feeling of warmth and security all around her. She sighed, as Van's face flitted through her mind and then she frowned slightly, her eyes still not open yet. She took a sniff. Not Van-sama. Dryden-sama... definitely Dryden-sama. Relaxing again, she buried her nose in the robe and sniffed again, as the scent soothed her. Events slowly filtered back into her sleepy mind. Ohhh...
She lifted her head and opened her eyes, looking at the face of the man who held her so securely. His eyes were closed and his hair disarranged, and his chin and cheeks were shaded with a slightly darker bit of beard. Merle gazed at this picture wide-eyed for quite a while.
He had no idea how wonderful he was. Merle knew this for a certainty. He made jokes and pretended to be full of himself, but underneath his heart beat as true as a lion. From gratitude for his generous act that saved Van's life, to awe of his extensive knowledge, to affection for his comforting and unflappable presence, Merle had slowly slipped into feelings that even she did not fully understand. It was a bit like how she felt for her childhood friend... and yet different.
She wasn't sure what the difference meant but she felt that part of it was manifest in how happy she felt, in spite of the events of last night, to find herself here in her protecting arms. Wouldn't it be wonderful to wake here every morning?
Tenderly, she stretched her neck just a little and licked the edge of his jaw in a flood of affection.
Dryden's eyes fluttered open and gave the impression of falling backwards even while his back was against the wall they'd practically curled up next to. With a noise of shock, his eyes struggled to focus as he thoughts organized behind them into something resembling coherent.
"Now that's a way to wake up," he mumbled over the words. Something of a disoriented grin spread sleepily across his face while he rubbed at his chin. It was still tingling from the slightly abrasive treatment it had been given. "Morning already?" he asked, shifting slightly, trying to get some circulation back into limbs that had fallen asleep under the catgirl's slight weight.
Merle answered his grin with a sweet smile. "Good morning, Dryden-sama," she said softly. A low vibration started again in her chest. She rubbed her cheek against his in a quick, instinctive marking gesture.
He blinked at her, bemused, before smiling and giving her a scooting gesture. "Up with you," he said lightly, "Or I'm afraid my legs will never work again."
"Oh!" she said, sitting up quickly on his lap. She placed her paws against his thighs and kneaded them gently. "Sorry!"
Dryden coughed, before removing her paws. "That's fine Merle, really." He paused mentally going over, by habit what needed to be done today... last night's events fell into place in his mind, waking him up entirely. Stiffening slightly, "Can you see if breakfast can be delayed for an hour, I need to wash up," he rubbed his chin reflexively. "I'll check on Van for you," he added, more quietly.
Merle sighed softly, then sprang from his lap to the floor and stretched hugely. She stood up, brushing absently at the green dress which was now twice or three times as rumbled as before. "Don't worry," she said, looking at him with shining eyes and a warm smile. "I'll make sure they wait for you." She looked at him for a moment and then suddenly darted over to put a quick kiss on his cheek. Then she moved quickly to the door, looking back once. "Thank you, Dryden-sama," she said softly, and then left, her tail sweeping around the door as she went.
"It was no problem," he said to no one. He climbed to his feet a bit awkwardly, stamping them to get the circulation going again. Slowly he stretched out some of the kinks that came from the unaccustomed position.
Switching into a fresh set of clothes and taking a shaving blade to his face, he finished grooming in even for him, record time. Pausing only to catch wisps of rebellious hair and put them back into the customary tie, he knocked firmly twice on Van's door only a quarter of an hour later.
The door opened and Van looked at him soberly, opening the door wider to let the merchant prince enter as Van went back inside. He was clean, and dressed in pants and boots. He walked back over to an open chest and pulled out a fresh shirt, pulling it over his head and drawing the lacings.
Dryden watched, taking the opportunity of Van's preoccupation to run through several openings of the conversations, comments or questions that he could ask, but none of them seemed appropriate. Finally, he settled on a form of conversation more practiced by Van than himself. Direct. "Are you all right?" he asked.
Van looked up, peering through the thick fringe of dark hair. "I'm sorry about last night," he said, instead of answering. "It must have left you in an awkward position. I won't let it happen again."
Dryden waved a hand, dismissing the last. "It was no trouble, she's agreed to stay for a while." A flicker of a troubled expression crossed his face, remembering the state of Serena's room where that particular conversation had taken place. If Dryden noticed the evasion he let it pass without a comment. "It wasn't the inconvenience of it that I worried about."
Van leaned against a wall, crossing his arms. He looked at the floor for a moment. "I don't know what I'm doing," he said softly. "Serena... was a victim... she didn't ask for what happened to her. I've no right to disturb things but that's about all I've been doing... it's wrong, Dryden."
Dryden unconsciously mirrored Van's thoughtful stance. He didn't have any clear answers or assurances to offer. "From what I understand," he began slowly, "neither did you. Ask for it that is. And it seems to me that hers is not the only calm that's been disturbed by all of this."
Van walked over to a window with a deep casement and looked out, his eyes seeing the sky. "I have to protect Fanelia," he said slowly.
"Maybe, this is the way that it will happen. The only way it can happen. The light took both of you. It has to mean something... perhaps a more complete ending, or a personal peace." The last was said with a touch of hopefulness in his unusually serious voice.
Van turned and regarded Dryden soberly for a long moment. "I thought I had that. All it took was rumors of war to evaporate it. My peace doesn't count beside the peace of my people. I can't let it happen again!" he said, his voice throbbing suddenly on the last words. "I can't let Fanelia burn... not again!"
Dryden regarded Van, shifting through the words in hopes of finding the source of his distress. Dryden knew Van, soul deep devotion to his people, but there was a still a touch of something personal in the declaration. Van's last remark at dinner last night struck something. "You aren't Dilandau," he said quietly.
Van's eyes widened in shock. He backed up a pace, coming up against the casement.
"Quite the contrary," Dryden continued, hating the expression he caused, be feeling somehow that he needed to get it out. "You've not just rebuilt Fanelia, but given them back their spirit and pride. You've put more care into everything you do than most people will ever, be they kings or street peddlers. What happened.... in the war allowed you to do this, to create. Intentions are your defining point, Van. Nothing will make you like him."
The words didn't seem to have the effect Dryden was hoping. Instead, the anguish in Van's eyes increased. "It was penance," he whispered. He closed his eyes, hearing ghost voices all too clearly. /We can't let you hurt Dilandau-sama.../ "Intentions... Dryden, I killed and killed and killed.... I wasn't thinking about Fanelia... I was thinking about death." He pressed his hands over his eyes. "They tried to stop me... even after I killed them... they... they... loved him.... why would they love a monster?"
/Damn it. I need to shut up. Every time I open my mouth I manage to alienate someone else... well, I didn't much care when it came to Allen but.../ a train of thought rambled, even as the rest of Dryden was focused on the words. "They may not have known anything else. I didn't know them."
Van took a deep breath and dropped his hands to his side, pushing away from the casement. "It doesn't matter," he said, an obvious flat-out falsehood but he was trying to get a handle on his emotions. "What matters is that whatever... *he* was, Serena is not to blame. Allen was trying to keep her in a box... but she couldn't accept it. She saw me as a way out. I've been using her desire for freedom and it's wrong. From today, she gets everything, ever bit of help I can offer. I hope... that she will stay a little while. She's someone who could learn to love this country."
"You..." Dryden bit down on the realization before he blurted it out. /You like her./ "You have only been acting on your emotions, it's not wrong. It's a a trait we call human." Dryden shrugged, a touch of a grin. "And don't give me that, I'm not human stuff. I am talking on a metaphorical level, o literal minded one."
Van looked at Dryden and his expression settled a little as he got back his control. "In that case you're probably talking above my head," he said with what passed for Van-humor. "Are we late for breakfast? Maybe Cook will take pity on us anyway..."
Relaxing slightly, he mumbled, trying to hide a grin with a grimace, "I'll remind you of that when she chases us all out with a ladle." Glancing out the window, he figured they'd make it long before the bell, but no fun tell him that.
At that moment they both heard the bell. Merle had only been partially successful. Cognizant of a household of hungry people, Cook had agreed to delay breakfast by a half hour.
Van glanced at Dryden and headed for the door.
"Well, there might be more truth to that then I thought," Dryden said, falling into place at Van's side. "Sometimes I wonder if you keep me around because I'm a bigger target."
Van's mouth quirked at the corner but he let the merchant prince have the last word.
Merle was waiting for them in the dining room, as food was set on a sideboard, buffet-style. She was dressed in a fresh smock, looking much like her usual self, if one didn't gaze too deeply in the wide eyes. She bounced over and hugged Van soundly, receiving his more reserved hug in return, after which he swatted her off to fill her plate.
Dryden gave a mock scowl at Merle. "An hour?" his tone didn't match the expression.
Merle lifted her shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. "Cook knows it doesn't take you an hour to clean up," she asserted.
Dryden snorted. "A lot of effort has to be taken to keep up these rustic good looks."
Merle giggled. "And a lot of food has to be eaten to supply that large stomach with fuel!" she answered, handing him a plate heaped with food. Her tail swished against his legs and she turned and went back for another plate, laden with about half the amount, for herself.
Van noticed this interesting exchange and looked more closely at the two of them. His eyes widened slightly and then he became absorbed in selecting the right slices of toast to finish his plate.
Floating back over the murmur of the sleepy household intent on breakfast, the indignant voice of the merchant could be heard, "By the way you feed me I'd think you were an old bird lady, not a furball..." No one seemed to have taken much notice to Serena's late entrance in the usual cheerful chaos of the morning routine.
She slipped up to Van's side and put a hand on his arm while he was examining the bread. "I'm sorry. I was out of line," she said, loud enough for only him to hear.
Van froze like a stone, then relaxed slightly. He looked into her eyes directly and shook his head. "No," he said, and then forced a few more words out, though it took an effort. "You weren't. My fault." He reached out and captured a clean plate and handed it to her.
She took the plate, looking at it with disinterest for a moment. She randomly plucked a fruit from the buffet and dropped it on the top of it. "Okay, how about we leave it as we were both jerks and we call it a truce?"
The round fruit rolled and would have dropped off the edge of the plate but Van caught it deftly. His cinnamon eyes warmed, losing a little of their guarded weariness. "Agreed," he said softly, placing the fruit stem-side down so the indention would keep it from rolling.
She glanced from the fruit to Van, humor coloring her eyes. "Sealed over a plate of piscus, can't get more official than that."
Van snorted softly, moving to make way for her to reach more of the buffet. He walked back to the table with a somewhat lighter step.
Serena grabbed a few more random things from the buffet, creating a rather eclectic plate unintentionally. Without thinking about it, she drifted over to Van's table, taking a seat between Merle and Dryden, across from Van.
Merle watched the girl closely but did not seem much inclined to resume the open hostilities of the night before. The 'truce' seemed to apply to Van's 'family' as well as himself.
Serena ate slowly in the silence around the table, acutely aware that she was most likely the cause of it, but unwilling to make another misstep like last night.
Merle surprised everyone by starting a bit of light conversation. "Van-sama!" she said, after making short work of her own breakfast. "Are you gonna go see what we got done while you were gone? The market's almost done, and the mill..."
Van smiled at the catgirl. He nodded. "I'll go see," he promised. He glanced at Serena. "Whatever you wish to do today, just tell Dryden or I or one of the household if you need something. I've given the word that you're to have anything you need."
Serena paused food halfway to her mouth. "Thank you again." She glanced around the table, looking for some indication, but Merle seemed intent on Van, and Dryden was looking at no one in particular. "Well... If you are going to the market, do you mind if I tag along? No good staying cooped up here forever."
Van looked at her soberly. "I don't mind... but are you sure you wouldn't rather wander by yourself?" he asked quietly, thinking of her sense of restriction back in Pallas. He wanted her to understand that he was not setting anyone to watch her, that she had the freedom to come and go.
Serena blinked at him, trying to understand what he was implying by that. She chewed thoughtfully on the fruit, using it as an excuse for her delayed response. "I'm fine either way. After all, it's not an escort, it's a tour of where I *can* go."
Van nodded. "Then let me show you what there is to see. It's not Pallas," he said deprecatingly.
"Thank the gods for that," she turned to Merle. "Um... you mentioned a tailor, Meimei, I think?"
Merle nodded, watching the other girl. "Uh huh. She lives here in the castle," she answered civilly enough. "I can bring her to you after breakfast if you want."
"No, that's fine. I need to get really lost a few times to get the lay of a place." She put her fork down. "I'll find her myself."
Merle wrinkled her nose but didn't argue. "South wing, level one," she said. "You can find it cause it smells like dye on that hallway."
"Thank you," Serena said, placing her napkin over a half eaten meal and stood up. "I'd better get going if I want to be presentable on time," she offered, excusing herself.
Van watched her go until she was out of view. He realized that he hadn't once thought to wonder what might be behind her words or actions, or her eyes.
Merle watched Van with a slight, concerned frown but she held her tongue. It had occurred to her that the explosion last night had been cause largely by her own questions and prodding, and like Serena, she did not want to risk it happening again.
Dryden glanced from Van to Merle, finally looking up from the meal he'd been concentrating on. For a moment he fished for something to break the contemplative mood that had dropped. Van had somehow brightened up, but Merle had darkened a bit in the meantime, perhaps then a more safe line of conversation. "I'd recommend the square, the carpenters have really outdone themselves there. If they keep it up, Fanelian woodwork will be quite the valued commodity."
Van glanced at Dryden and smiled slightly. "That would be good," he said. "And the designs you showed them... the books on technique. I'll go see."
Dryden gave a slightly smile at the compliment, before hiding it behind a scowl. "Any chance to bother Jurvek. That old man's far too stuck up about his own work. To tempting not to rile him up a bit, and he did owe me a favor or two."
Van nodded acceptingly. He stood up and dropped a hand lightly on Dryden's shoulder. In a somewhat more sober tone, he said quietly, "Have some scouts posted on the turrets that are complete later today. It won't take Allen that long to get here and I'd rather have a few minutes warning... for Serena's sake."
Dryden nodded. "They've been there since yesterday. I had a little time while everyone was in bed."
Van gripped Dryden's shoulder gratefully, then went to place his empty plate in the basin. In Fanelia, even the king occasionally bussed his own table.
Serena had debated long with the tailor about colors and styles before finally managing to convince the woman that she would either just go as she was or would find someone else if she didn't at least get some concessions. /Why does everyone want me in a dress?/ she groused to herself, picking out a wardrobe from what was provided. It didn't have to fit exactly and she didn't have the time to have it fitted to her.
Briefly, she pondered over a red and black ensemble, but Allen had always reacted strongly to it, and she didn't want to set Van off after the more promising beginnings of the morning. It was an hour later that she was dressed in a simple cut, dark purple tunic, soft black pants, made of some sturdy cloth that she hadn't been able to identify, and Van's boots, fitting better now courtesy of a few little scraps of fabric tucked into the toes of them.
Aware that she hadn't set a meeting place with Van, she simply waited for him at the entryhall, figuring that he'd arrive here eventually.
Several times castle staff going to and fro passed her and in each case they greeted her cheerfully, as if they knew who she was.
She was nearly purring to herself at the refreshing change it was for her. No matter where she had gone before, she'd have to worm her way past the defenses and quiet avoidance of her that Allen's warnings to them had caused. It took a lot of persistence and banter to get past the firm words of a Heavenly Knight.
A motherly looking woman who seemed slightly familiar swept by her with a friendly nod. "He's on his way," she said, in passing. "Had a little crisis in the stables to attend to but it's all square now."
Serena started, then smiled. "Thanks.... no one hurt I hope? Equines have a dreadful kick I've found."
The woman stopped and laughed and Serena was able to place her as the woman who had gotten her room ready the day before. "No, nothing like that," she said. "Seems some half-grown dragon tried to get into the paddock this morning and *all* the livestock took exception to it. Can't say as I blame em none!"
"Gimpy!" she crowed, laughing a second. "So he did get that third one." She blinked. "Oh, I'm sorry, could you point me towards the stables?"
The woman looked at Serena quizzically. "Sure, missy, but there's nothing to see now... himself is changing into a fresh tunic and the dragonling's gone back into the woods. Funny it coming up in broad daylight. We haven't had em do that in quite a while, since last winter actually. But the stable's off the west wing, all the way to the end."
She pouted. "Oh, thanks! No, I'll wait, I just wasn't thinking. Sounds like an exciting morning anyway."
The woman nodded. "That's true enough!" she agreed. "Oh dear, must be running! My name's Fana, miss. If you need anything. Maybe a parasol? If you go out walking your fair skin's going to burn..."
"Serena," she returned with a smile, shaking her head. "Thanks, but no thanks. I could use some color even if it is bright red."
The woman tck-tcked. "Well then... maybe you'll be calling me later for some ointment," she said saucily and bustled off with a wave.
Serena chuckled, seeing no reason to volunteer any information. Instead, she scanned the crowd of people moving to and fro int he hallways for the now familiar sight of Fanelia's king. After a few minutes of craning her neck, she caught glimpse of a figure she'd come to think of as unmistakable and waved to catch his eye.
Van moved quickly to where Serena stood, pulling the laces on his second tunic of the morning. He ran a hand through thick dark hair, leaving it in about the same disarray as before the gesture. He inclined his head in greeting and gestured towards the open portal of the main castle entrance.
Moving unconsciously into place a step behind him she grinned, taking in a lungfull of a fresh air. "Nice! Probably one of the few just right ones before the snows come," she commented, her eyes closing a moment to enjoy it.
Van glanced at her, pausing to let her come even with him before resuming his step. He nodded. "I imagine the air smells different to you - no sea tang."
She laughed, nodding. "It smells like you, you know. Wood and earth."
He glanced at her quizzically. "Hn," he said. "There *are* different smells... the deep woods have a spicy flavor. The fields do smell of loam. But there are winds from the mountains that..." he glanced up, scanning the blue sky, "That taste of clouds."
She glanced up, pausing in her step to lean back a bit to take in the whole formation that cradled the city. "It's got to be hard to get that high. Some of that is sheer cliff face."
He smiled slightly, looking up at the mountain peaks with unhidden love. He nodded. "Hard... but worth it."
"Mmm," she agreed, more with tone than words or gesture. After a moment, she resumed her walk. "I heard Gimpy made quite an appearance this morning."
Van walked beside her, turning to look at her with a slight smile. "Actually, it was another dragonling," he said, with a touch of regret. He looked around the buildings and streets as they passed through them. "They reclaimed this land for a while and kept trying to take it back once we started rebuilding. Mostly they don't come back any more but this one..." he tilted his head, "Maybe Gimpy told him to come check on you."
Serena grinned, visualizing startlingly intelligent looks suddenly appearing in yellow eyes. "Who knows? Knowing Gimpy, it wouldn't surprise me."
Van smiled. He nodded. "We feared them for... forever," he said softly. "It was my brother, Folken who taught me that they weren't exactly what we thought."
She resolutely ignored the pang she felt at the name Van mentioned, shrugging it off and telling herself it was just indigestion. "I suppose I could understand, they all seem so fearsome. Who'd have thought to tame one all you needed was a bit of calm and a touch of compassion."
Van shook his head slightly. "You've got it backwards," he said. "We don't tame them... they tame us. They don't change... we do. Once, retaking the land around the castle would have been a slaughter. But they'd never have changed. This time we learned to do it differently."
"So," she said, shooting Van a mischievous look. "They are just really big, scaly cats."
He gave a short muffled laugh. "If you wish."
Serena grinned, brightening up a bit at the rare laugh. "So where to?"
He'd been walking in the direction of the market square, and people had been smiling at them as they passed, but hadn't interrupted the king with his guest. About half the people they saw, humans and beastmen, were doing daily business, and the other half were involved some way in the reconstruction, laying stone or hammering at planks of wood.
The market square was just that, an open square, and it contained but a handful of open stalls, only a fifth or so of the vendors it would be able to hold, and parts of it were still being finished, but the cobbles were laid flat and clean, in two colors to make a graceful pattern, and the edges were lined with sturdy roofing, the posts carved in bold relief.
Serena took in the stretch of the marketplace, watching the bustle of shopkeepers, workers and those simply shopping for the necessities. Amongst the longer lines and busier stalls were those for supplies useful in simple craftsmanship.
"And only a year," she wondered out loud. "It's gotten far, more than I'd ever would figure possible. It takes me weeks to build a daft birdhouse."
Van nodded, looking around with an expression of deep pleasure, but also running a critical eye over the details, checking for anything that could be improved. "Less than a year, really. Clearing the land of debris - and dragons - took four months, and three months of winter had to be spent in caves in the mountains, there wasn't enough shelter built the first one. They've worked so hard..."
She gave a barely surpressed shudder. "They're braver than I am, spending the winter... like that. I can't... take the cold very well." She paused, "Besides, I figure it hasn't been just them working." She poked Van with an elbow.
He looked down absently. "Mm. Dryden came about six months ago... stayed a while, left... and came back with a huge cargo of things we needed desperately. He's stayed since then. It's not even his country but he's done so much. I'm going to make him a citizen of Fanelia officially, soon. We planned a small ceremony for it. That hard part is keeping it from him, he knows more than I do about what's going on, these days."
"Well, he's got a perfect assistant. I've known no cat person that could stay out of anything, or that you could keep from finding out anything for that matter. But, I wasn't talking about Dryden, I was talking about you."
Van glanced over, a bit startled. "Um? Oh... yes, I guess so," he said and fell silent.
She grinned at him. "You're cute," she declared, before breaking off to explore one of the stalls merchandise. Some of the metalwork there wasn't solely nails and tools, but crafted jewelry as well.
The stall's owner moved over, smiling at her in a friendly way. "What suits your fancy, miss?" he asked, taking in her clothing. It didn't get the same kind of reaction it would have in Pallas. Here folk recognized the value of being practical. "A ring for the lady?" he suggested, gesturing at a tray of rings with various stones. "Or something more functional?"
"Proposing to me already? Why sir we've just met," she said lightly, her voice pitched to feign flattery.
The merchant chuckled. "Wouldn't think of it," he returned. "Saw you walking with the king... have to be right daft to invite such a mischief on myself."
She turned the comment with a grin, but no response. She still hadn't decided what to think about that. "I was thinking something to keep my hair out of my face. These bangs can be impossible on the wrong morning."
The merchant tilted his head and fingered his chin. Her hair was actually a bit short for a lady, but again it wasn't remarkably odd, just slightly noteworthy. He pulled another box out and opened it, looking through the contents. "This is a northern fashion but it might suit," he said, pulling out two circlets, thin bands of metal curved to fit against the head. One was worked with a swirling floral pattern and the other was plain, with an amber cabochon set at the front.
Serena regarded both of them, her eyes drawn to the plainer one naturally. It stirred up a sense of half understood nostalgia. "How much are they?"
The vendor mentioned two sums, ridiculously low as compared to the prices in the Pallas market.
She looked pleased. "Can you hold onto the plain one for me, I need to get some gidaru."
The vendor looked at Serena closely, then smiled. He picked up the plain band and wrapped it in a piece of plain homespun and pressed it into her hand. "I'm here at this stall almost every day. Come back and pay me when you get your gidaru," he said, patting her hand.
Breaking into a full grin, she squeeze the merchants hand in thanks. "Tomorrow at the latest, I promise. Thanks again!"
He smiled. "Tomorrow be fine," he said. "Thanks for your patronage. It's nice to see a pretty face at the market. We be small but we hope in time to make a name for the Fanelia Square. Don't forget us then when you go back to wherever you be from."
"I'd rather be from here," she said, waving. "But I'll be sure to mention it if I go traveling again," she called over her shoulder as she turned to seek out Van in the crowd again.
He was much in the same place where she'd left him, talking with a couple of the woodworkers. There was some gesturing, nodding and so forth. The man and woman concluded their conversation and moved off with a wave.
"Kind of strange," she commented when she'd finally drawn into easy conversing distance. "But pleasant to find a place where people actually look you in the face. You'd think back in Asturia that they figure you'll attack them for general friendliness."
Van smiled slightly. "I've heard visitors from other places grumble about the small selection of goods, but never about being treated with scant courtesy," he said.
"Not to much to worry about there. I'd figure that the selection would increase when the demand for it does. Still, I'm surprised. They have some great stuff."
Van seemed to radiate pleasure at the words of approval for his folk. "Half the vendors are immigrants," he mentioned. "Took a chance to come here. Those that stayed haven't seemed to regret the hardships. They believe in a future here." A brief, sudden shadow passed through his eyes but he shook his head as if physically shaking it away.
"I'm going to walk to the mill. It's just a mill, nothing exciting. You can come, or make your way around on your own if you'd rather...?"
"Doesn't matter to me, I'm fine. I need to get my exercise anyway. Though if you'd rather me stay...?" she asked curiously.
He glanced down, then simply reached out and took her hand, and started walking across the square in the direction of the small tower that was the new mill building.
Serena hummed under her breath, the cautiousness of breakfast and some time afterwards finally evaporating completely under the rising sun.
The mill was a mill and this one was quite nearly shiny with newness, though they'd run a few dozen baskets of grain through it for testing and adjustment purposes. Van examined it closely and then congratulated the crew working there, praising them with quiet sincerity. From there he led Serena on a walking tour of the small city around the castle. The signs of reconstruction were offset here and there by places where the fallen stones or timbers had been left uncleared, hinting distantly at the destruction of a year ago. In every such place, the greenery didn't quite cover the blackened scorches but they could almost be overlooked. Van seemed not to see them. His eyes focused on the new structures, and the people working among them.
During one patch of roadway that had been cleared, but reconstruction hadn't begun it's regeneration, Serena slowed her step, thoughtfully. "You know, birds would probably be a better standard for the kingdom than dragons."
Van swiveled his head to look at her quizzically. "Why?"
"Was thinking of an old legend, one of the ancients. They used to say there was a bird that knew when it was going to die. And it would sing beautifully and live fully, until that day, and would die in fire. But the second that that bird died, it was reborn again from the ashes. Dragons just don't have the same kind of stories."
Van listened and the work evoked images in his mind that were startlingly vivid. And they brought other images to mind. For a brief moment, he was immersed in the remembered images of the destruction of Atlantis. His eyes unfocused.
He shook it off after a moment. Glancing at her, he said softly, "Have you ever seen a dragon breath fire?"
Serena's brows furrowed for a moment. "Yes and no. I know I have, but...."
His hand unconsciously moved up to cover something under his shirt. "They eat rock... a special kind, that lodges inside. The pressure and heat of their bodies changes it. It becomes an energist. Then when they rear up, the pads on their breasts glow and they spit flames for sometimes great distances. I was just wondering how the bird in your legend made its fire..."
"I wouldn't know. Maybe some sort of magic." Serena shrugged. "I've never seen one myself. I figure it would be hard to miss."
He smiled. "Maybe," he said. His hand fell away from the pendant. "I never heard that story."
"It's really old. The woman who told it to me said it was probably before even the Draconians."
Van looked at Serena curiously. But he answered with a shrug.
She glanced around again. "Do you know a good place to eat around here?"
He looked around. Taking her hand again, he ducked through between two buildings and turned again. At the end of the block was a small low building with an awning pitched in front of bright, striped material. Under the awning were a few wooden tables and benches and one of them was occupied by a work crew eating and drinking.
Van nodded to one of the empty tables.
Serena wandered over to the one indicated, placing her cloth bundle to the side before practically flopping on the chair. She sighed happily. "Seats! My poor toes have been begging me for one," she grinned up at Van.
He smiled slightly. "Maybe they'd like some boots that fit as well."
"And scare the poor cobbler too? I've already startled the tailor beyond apology," she said, unrepentant.
Van shook his head. "Doubt it," he said.
A man in an apron approached the table and set down a pitcher and a couple of glasses. "We got pheasant pie and cheese and toast, and a nice soup. That suit ya?"
"Just a small bowl of soup then," Serena said, glancing at Van.
Van nodded to the tavern keeper who nodded back, and moved off to get their food. Meanwhile the king poured some clear, reddish liquid from the pitcher into the glasses.
"So this is what you do?" Serena asked, taking her glass.
Van drank and then nodded. "A lot of it," he answered.
"Seems more useful. Allen's taken me along to quite a few trips to different kingdoms, working up the sponsorship for rebuilding that old fort he talks about. Every king I've ever seen had their nose buried five feet in papers." She grimaced. "Looked boring."
Van stirred his drink with a finger. "I guess I've managed to dump most of that on Dryden," he admitted, with a slight hint of sheepishness.
"Mmm, true, but he has a smell of libraries and a look in him that says he'd rather be doing that than most things." She shrugged. "Course he might have just picked that up over the five or six months."
Van shook his head. "He's a very learned man," he said, with a note of respect. "He collects knowledge like some men collect..." he shrugged, "Um, treasure. Or fine swords."
"Now the last I could understand." She grinned. "I suppose that's him though. In the same place, I think I'd be out here too. At least then you are doing *some*thing. Sitting behind a desk just will never work."
Van lifted his shoulder, not inclined to argue, since he felt pretty much that way. The innkeeper brought out two bowls of soup and a plate of bread toasted with cheese and set the food down, pulling utensils from an apron pocket. The tableware was mostly carved wood.
Serena pulled the bowl in front of her, taking a few cautious sips of the hot liquid. "But, what are you going to do when all that's left is paperwork? You don't strike me as the type to settle down easily."
Van picked up a piece of the toast and tore it in half, licking his fingers to get the melted cheese. "I don't know," he admitted. "I never thought that far ahead."
"Can't say that I'm not guilty of that as well."
Finishing the toast, Van looked at her thoughtfully. It was easier to stay away from certain subject while they were walking, or discussing the countryside. He suppressed the words on his tongue and began eating the soup carefully.
Serena let the silence go on for a while before finally managing to ask, "So, what are we going to do when Allen gets here?"
Van rested his spoon in the bowl and looked at her directly. "I don't know. What do you want to do?"
"This is going to sound pretty crazy, but I don't know what I want to do. I just know what I *don't* want. I don't want to go back. I don't want to leave, but I don't want to cause the trouble here if I stayed." She looked down, stirring her spoon in the soup and watching the patterns in the liquid form and dissolve. "I don't want a lot of things."
Van took a breath. "You can stay here as long as you want," he said quietly. "I don't care about trouble, there doesn't need to be any. Unless you want to stay and he tried to take you home by force."
"He knows better than to use force..." she looked uncomfortable, even a little guilty. "I still have reflexes." She shrugged. "And he wont defend himself, not a great combination... but he will be unreasonable. That much is pretty much forgone. I don't think I've ever seen him so..." She dropped her spoon back into the soup with a plunk.
Van watched her closely. Then he said, "If you need help, tell me."
She hesitated slightly, something unreadable flashing behind her eyes, then nodded. "I will."
She gave him a more familiar, mischievous look. "Besides, I can't leave yet. You still owe me that kiss. I wont have circumstance break that promise."
Van blinked, completely taken aback, but he tried to cover it. His cheeks seemed a bit darker though.
"Ready to go back?" he said, just a little gruffly.
She grinned, but took mercy on him. "Sure. We've been so long I'd imagine they've worried themselves to calling search parties."
He shook his head at her drollery but simply got up from the table and waited for her to join him.
Almost as an afterthought, she grabbed her purchase and followed after him.
END OF PART 9