Amoro Revidi

Title: Morning After [Part Sixteen]
Series: Vision of Escaflowne
Rating: PG-13
A/N: Part 16... sorry this is so short, but I didn't feel too much more needed to be said in this part. I might have to give you guys the next part the day after christmas, as my yultide spirit is running kinda low right now and I'm really frustrated with how fragmented this is becoming. Wish me luck.

***

    Seated behind his desk with Millerna quietly rocking Exeter in her lap off to one side, Dryden drum his fingers on the solid wood top in frustration.

    “We need to go after them now, Your Majesty, while they are still within the country. If we wait too much longer they will escape our grasp, and…”

    “I appreciate your concern, Prince Jasper, but…”

    “How many were taken, King Dryden?” a quiet voice from Jasper’s side asks.

    In the midmorning sunlight Dryden looks over the young woman standing at his side. He looks down at one of his papers and finds the name that appears to fit her, Nileyah Calipse… his Kathis. He continues to regard her appraisingly.

    Standing next to Jasper, who is very nearly Dryden’s height of a few inches over six feet, she appears to be relatively short, but then considering the height difference between himself and Millerna, Dryden can’t mark her off as too short. Her black hair falls to reach her chin where it is allowed free, but most of it is swept back and secured by a short braid at the back of her head. Her brown eyes are downcast as she speaks, but Dryden finds himself unconvinced by the subservient display.

    “Twelve.”

    “And they were all middle sons and daughters?” she asks.

    “Yes, yes, your point being?”

    “They were not afforded the proper protection by your guards. We did not loose more because of the Kathis in attendance,” she says in a quiet voice. “If they are not located… there might arise an incident from these circumstances.”

    “Are you suggesting…?” Dryden begins.

    “I am merely stating the circumstances that you should be aware of,” she looks up at him, “I would like to volunteer to head a group to search for the missing, with your permission.”

    Interesting… I was under the impression that they did not act against the wishes of their protectorates… “And Prince Jasper?”

    “I trust that if you are aware of the possibility of a further attack, he will be better guarded… as well as the others here in attendance, giving those of us with less than,” she pauses as she glances to her companion, “the more noble heritage of our friends the opportunity to track and retrieve those that have been captured.”

    Dryden considers, leaning his head on one hand and glancing back to Millerna, who nods almost imperceptibly. “You have my leave, for those of you leaving, please have your… counterparts report to the throne room and we will have it made appropriate for their accommodations while you are absent.”

    “Thank you, Your Majesty,” she says, lowering her eyes once again.

***

    Lying on his side and staring at the door, Van cannot get his mind off the attack. It had been so long since he had been forced to fight… almost three years since anything had made him draw his sword in more than a practice battle.

    He closes his eyes, trying to force the memory of that horrid day from his mind, but finds that he cannot.

*

    The sun was high in the sky and he and Merle had taken it off as a holiday. The two of them had ridden out past the castle walls to have a picnic with some of the villagers from down below.

    It was warm out, and neither he nor Merle had dressed very smartly for it. Finally getting to the village, they found it deserted, with people lying wounded and the houses looking burnt and broken.

    Both had dismounted to see what good could be done, but in the end it had been a trap. Rogue soldiers from one of the outer baronies had come to maraud the low lands because their own crops had failed and they had received no word of relief coming from the capital because Van’s advisors had not made him aware of the situation.

A battle ensued…

***

    “Van?” Hitomi calls out quietly.

    She had heard him breathing loudly, as though he were having a nightmare, and had slipped from bed, and crept barefoot across the drawing room between their two bedrooms. The guard outside had not seen her, but had heard the movement and started to come in to check.

    Quietly she assured him that it would be all right and Reddes, one of Allen’s crew, had nodded in response and returned to his watch of the outside area.

    Unhindered by his noise, Hitomi crosses and opens Van’s door slightly, peeking her head in and glancing around.

    He remains lying on his side on the bed, eyes closed tightly as though in pain. “Van?”

    When he doesn’t respond she comes into the room, closing the door quietly behind her. She feels a slight chill in the air and suddenly wishes for more than the thin nightgown the seamstresses made for her in Fanelia, the climate of seaside Palas being somewhat cooler in the winter. Hitomi crosses the room slowly, until she is standing directly before him.

    Again, she says his name, “Van?”

    Opening his eyes, he looks up at her, bewilderment and fear written across his face. “Van,” she kneels down so that their faces are level, “it’s me, Van… Hitomi.”

    “Hi-to-mi?” She nods in response and reaches a hand out to brush the hair from his forehead and to cool the sweat there.

    “What’s wrong Van?” She moves to check the bandage on his arm.

    “N-nothing,” he responds, shaking off his bewilderment after a moment as she shudders. “You’re shivering,” he says in response, making room on the bed for her to sit down.

    “I’m fine, Van,” she responds, unable to control another shiver.

    “You say that and yet you shiver again?” Van asks, drawing her to sit on the bed and pulling one of the blankets folded at the end of his bed up and around her shoulders. “I suppose we should’ve thought about the climate difference in Palas when we had your clothes made. Have you been cold much?” Rubbing her blanket covered arms with his hands he looks into her eyes inquisitively.

    “Not… too much,” Hitomi replies, leaning against him and sighing.

    The two of them remain silent for a long while and Van carefully draws his arms up around her back, relaxing from the memories as she nestles herself against him.

***

    Riding quickly over the uneven path, Merle frowns slightly. The rain falling is cold and the dark clouds do not help vision any, but the horse she’s riding knows the way and she puts her trust in that.

    The report had come in as Mot said it would, and the High Bikathian had met with the council, Merle in attendance, as required. Things were not looking well. Cesario had recently undergone attempts at rebellion by a small faction with staggering technology, as had Basram for somewhat more founded reasons, the elected king had become something close to a totalitarian ruler rather than the constitutional monarch that he was, and coupled with the coup in Ispano things weren’t looking good for the ruling class of Gaea.

    Even Merle was forced to admit that she could see the reasoning behind bringing Arik and Tristan to the compound, for their own safety as well as in order to protect both the High Priest and Fanelia from further mischief.

    The ride down the mountain is the hardest leg of her journey, but as soon as she reaches the foothills she feels a familiar calm settle in her chest. The fields and roads become more familiar to her as she gets deeper and deeper into Fanelian territory and she is soon greeted by workers hurrying to get their livestock indoors from the chilling winter rains.

    Entering the castle and not stopping any longer than to settle her horse in the stables, Merle proceeds directly to the room that Tristan and Arik are staying in, discarding her soaking riding cloak with a maid that catches up to her as she moves quickly through the halls.

    I am sorry… but for once Mot is right…

***

    Arik stands and looks out the window, seeing Merle ride into the gates and stop briefly at the stables. Tristan, napping, is unaware of the change in the situation, and she looks over at him with a sigh before moving to stand just outside the door in preparation for meeting up with her fellow Kathis. She picks up a blanket before stepping out the door.

    “Merle,” Arik says as the cat woman approaches at a quick pace, long hair in a braid down her back with her armor and battle skirt on, soaked quite thoroughly to the bone and looking displeased about something.

    “Mistress Mot says you are to bring him and go to the compound at once.”

    “I figured as much,” Arik responds, leaning her back against the door and folding her arms on her chest. “And if he refuses?”

    “There was no request involved,” Merle says with a flick of her tail. She glances at her fellow Kathis and says, “Do you have an extra blanket in there, I…”

    Arik hands her the soft blanket and says, “Hate being wet. A byproduct of being a cat woman, undoubtedly.”

    Merle sniffs and begins to towel herself dry with the blanket. “Also because the rain is ice cold and I rode straight through to get here.”

    “It seems the Mistress is greatly agitated, what else happened?” Arik asks, gray eyes narrowing. “She must have known that I was going to get him there as soon as I was able.”

***

    Hearing voices somewhat muted by the door, Tristan wakes, brushing the hair from his eyes, and looks outside. The rain, which had picked up late the prior evening, continues to fall, and as he looks around the room he notices that Arik is absent.

    Snippets of the conversation reach him and he pulls the covers back from the bed, climbing out and heading to the door.

    “…I see…” Arik’s voice floats through to him. “He’s awake now,” she opens the door and Tristan sees that she is conversing with Merle.

    “What’s going on?” he asks.

    “We’re leaving,” Arik says in a quick, low voice, “start packing what little you’ve got to pack.”

    Tristan glances at Merle, who looks back at him evenly. “Why?”

    “Because I’m well enough to travel, and because we’re endangering Fanelia by staying,” Arik says, pushing past him into the room and beginning to pack his things for him. “I would have given you more time to adjust to the idea, but something’s come up and there isn’t time to argue with it now.”

    Tristan starts to protest but recalls something his mother said to him before Arik ever arrived, And she will look out for you, my son. You’ve got to trust her if she makes a decision you don’t agree with, because she’s coming to protect you, and it is for the best. Without another word he nods with a frown and moves to help her.

    “Do you have horses we can take?” Arik asks Merle.

    “I’ll go see to that, and you’ll be wanting some good thick cloaks in this weather,” the cat woman says, tossing the wet blanket into the wooden chair next to the door and turning, “I’ll be back shortly. You’re going to have to explain it to the Chief Advisor, though.”

    Arik glances at Tristan, “We’ll think of something,” she replies.