Whoooo! I finally finished it ^.^ C&C definitely most welcome.
Anyone that wants to read Part I, it's at: http://www.crosswinds.net/~dilandau/
Disclaimer: All of this is owned by someone else. I just messed with it.
Chapter 8
Allen, of course, questioned Celena's pallor and her tendancy to yawn throughout the morning, but the day before had been spent shopping and packing, and she convinced him those were the causes. Despite the reassurance, he was quick to notice the way her eyes glazed over at breakfast and the way she jumped whenever someone spoke to her. It crossed his mind to convince her not to go at the very last minute. He turned to her as they were walking to the carriage.
Celena folded her arms and frowned. "Don't even start."
Gaddes leaned to one side and smirked from the driver's seat. "Gotcha before you even opened your mouth, boss."
Allen sighed and entered. Celena followed soon afterwards and sat across from him. Gaddes barked at the horses, the crack of a whip followed and they were on their way. Allen reached over and took his sister's hand.
"Are you completely certain you feel all right?" he asked, gazing worriedly into her bag-heavy eyes.
"Just anxious." She waved her free hand at him, nonchalant. "All the excitement kept me awake last night." A smile blossomed on her pretty face.
There was no doubt Allen disbelieved her, but there was also no gain in telling him the truth. Without letting him get another word regarding the matter, Celena began firing enthusiastic questions about this, that, and everything having to do with the upcoming ceremonies. The trip would not take very long, perhaps a few hours through the countryside, parts of Pallas, and to the palace, and she would not let him for an instant think of turning the carriage around and dumping her back at the family estate.
While she faked listening to her brother's descriptions of various figures of the royal court, she forcefully crammed down another rising throng of memories. It had taken the better part of the night before to regain her composure. Whereas before she'd had some scattered remanents of what remained of Dilandau (her eating habits, her sword skills), as well as those repeated terrifying experiences in her dreams, she'd never felt fully connected with him. It was if she'd been a forced witness, but never a participant. Now she was being filled to the brim and beyond with every sensation, visualization, and psychological turnings that had ever occured to the body that had once been hers, and hers alone.
And now she was losing sight of where Dilandau ended and Celena began.
Despite the overbearing headache, she discovered an eerie calm to her consciousness, as if penting up those memories had been perpetuating her Sickness. Her prime difficulty was an utter sense of disorientation. A whirlwind of visuals and emotions ran across her mind's eye, all clamoring for attention at once. Several early morning hours passed while she lay, gritting her teeth and clutching her legs to her chest, forcing herself to bear through the onslaught. Dilandau was determined to prevent his obliteration, even if it meant driving her insane. He'd forgotten, however, that through the years, Celena had managed to survive even if buried, and her resolve had strengthened since she became the dominant personality. Daylight had colored the skies by the time she'd emerged victorious, and she realized that her time spent sleeping had been sorrowfully brief.
"...Although sometimes he occassionally drops by to give Princess Millerna a present or two. It's quite remarkable sometimes the items Dryden brings from those... far away... lands..." Allen trailed off when he noticed Celena's blank expression. She made a perfunctory nod at the end of his sentence. Frowning, he snapped his fingers in front of her eyes.
Celena blinked at him. One instinct told her to slap the insolent dolt. The other froze, startled that she would even think of doing so. She apologized and forced out a yawn.
"Sorry, Allen," she murmured. "I must be more tired than I thought. Do you mind if I take a nap? Things will probably be very busy at the palace."
"Certainly, Celena." Allen smiled. "You'll need your energy."
Allen watched as Celena nestled down in the cushioned seat. She threw him an affectionate smile before closing her eyes. He clasped gloved hands together, reflecting on how her hand had twitched in her lap, and the uncharacteristic irritation that had flashed across her face. A frown creased his lips. She was hiding something again, and it was more than some little mishap the night before. Confronting her directly could possibly be disasterous, especially if her sanity was at sake. The courier who had delivered his invitation had mentioned an invitation was also being sent to Zaibach. Allen only hoped that a Madoushi or two would be sent along with the usual pack of politicians and military figures.
Celena felt her brother's eyes drive into her. The scrutinization was almost unbearable, too closely associated with memories of being treated as an experiment in the name of Fate. She knew, though, that her brother wasn't fooled by any of her explanations (not to mention her "nap"). But she knew, without a doubt, that Allen would do what was best, especially since her own abilities to determine up from down was severely crippled. Regardless of all the confusion, one driving urge kept her determined to make it through this trip.
She (he) absolutely had to see Van.
Chapter 9
Celena was... bored.
With all the hustle bustle surrounding her brother, Celena was included in the ceremonies only as a token appreciation to the fact that she was a Schezar. Therefore, although she'd had to learn where to stand when the procession for Van ended at the entrance of the palace (which was, unsurprisingly, right next to her brother at the end of the long line of nobles, soldiers, and gawkers), she was afterwards left to dwadle in one of the gardens with the daughters of the Asturian nobles. After a few of the girls recognized her from Allen's social gatherings, and identified her as that "strange Schezar," she was primarily left alone. Of course, some of them tried to get friendly with the Great, oh so Handsome Knight Allen Schezar's sister, but the chattering and the gossip made Celena cringe and Dilandau irritable. Neither of the responses that had popped in her head seemed very appropriate. She managed to fend them off by acting shy and quiet, and found a secluded spot where she c!
!
ould enjoy the scenery and discreetly listen in to the conversations.
Other than the usual talk about who had married whom and who was going to marry whom, she learned that part of the mania surrounding Fanel's visit to Asturia was an apology. Apparently the Asturian King had "mistreated" Van upon his first visit proceding the destruction of Fanelia. According to the ladies, not only had Van attacked Zaibach troops without provocation, he had courted the princess Millerna and had been rebuffed. However, Millerna had eventually re-evaluated the prospects of being married to a King (demolished country aside), and had disappeared from the palace. However, by then, Van had already by then fallen in love with some mysterious foreignor...
The girls sighed and continued elaborating on the supposed love triangle. Nevermind the fact that Millerna had often made it clear her rather scandalous attraction to Allen; this was a far more interesting tale. Of course, Dilandau knew the true circumstances surrounding Asturia's decision to mistreat Van, which did not involve romantic encounters of any sort.
Ignorant twits.
Celena grimaced. The boredom was starting to add to her agitation, and she was losing the already tenuous line between her mind and Dilandau's. Her head pounded as she was distracted by a particular conversation.
"...and they said that King Van has no queen yet!"
"Oh! Then who's that cat-girl? I hear they're very very close."
"Bah. It would be absolutely vile if the king married a beastwoman. Could you think of the children?"
"Oh, you just want him for yourself." A chorus of giggles followed.
"It couldn't be that bad." The voice lowered to a stage whisper. "I heard he's really an Atlantean!"
"Oh that's just silly."
The same voice continued, just audible to Celena's ears. "No more silly than this other one I heard." Petticoats and hardened lace shuffled as her cohorts leaned in. "That mysterious Zaibach Captain? The really handsome one that slaughtered half our troops? I hear he was really a she."
Celena swallowed. The girls all gasped and giggled some more.
"Now that's silly."
"You're just saying that because you don't want it revealed you really were attracted to him!"
The girls shrieked with laughter. She had to get out of there. The urge to begin removing those meticulously designed hair styles by ripping them from their roots was becoming far too strong, and it wasn't just Dilandau suggesting the act.
A sudden happy chorus of squeals heralded another thankful distraction. The loud clanks and thundering footsteps from below the garden balcony spoke of a series of Guymelefs making their way to settle for the upcoming ceremonies.
All of them clambored over to the side to gawk at the knights, including Celena. Although Dilandau scoffed at the rustic, relatively small Guymelefs (why, even the Alseides designs were far more advanced), Celena gaped. She'd never gotten a real chance to see many before her absence, and here was a whole company of them! She even lost her desire to remain inconspicuous when Scherezade came into view.
"Allen! Allen!" she cried, waving her hands frantically, a smile blossoming on her face.
The facial plate of Scherezade whirred and flipped open. Allen threw an affectionate look at her before resuming his duties. The other girls cast threw jealous looks in her direction. They began whispering behind their hands, trying to point out every fault of hers they could muster. Celena didn't care. It had been a long, frustrating day, and just seeing her brother made even her problems with Dilandau seem insignificant.
After a while, Scherezade had disappeared, and the girls had resumed pointing, giggling, and making flirtatious gestures at the line of knights, both in and out of Guymelefs. Celena suddenly realized that all the attention had been directed away from her. And over there, within perhaps one hundred paces, was an open, unguarded door.
How could she pass this up?
Chapter 10
Butterfly.
Pretty.
Fly fly.
Catch!
Pretty wings. Up down up down.
Fly away? Want to leave me?
DEAD. EAT. No leaving now.
Look.
Man. I like this man. Pretty man.
Stretch arms. Hug? Smile.
Angry. Why so angry? Why?
Jajuka? Going inside?
But. Want to touch the man.
Madoushi man is shouting.
Smile. Smile...smile...
Table.
No.
Needles! Madoushi! PAIN!
NO!
SCREAM.
Whisper. "Where is this?"
"Centralized headquarters."
Louder. Demanding. "Why? How did I get here?"
"You were transported here after receiving medical attention. I believe that blow to the head during the last sparring session may have jumbled your memory."
Pause. Thoughtful expression. "I see." Adjust clothing. Irritable. Upstart peon better watch himself. Visions of Crima Claws blasting through unguarded Guymelef backside. Smile. "Have they been assembled?"
Nod. "We begin training tomorrow. I assume you'll want to oversee it yourself?"
Sneer. Low, eager voice. "Of course. I want to be there to personally make sure these fools know who's their commanding officer."
Grave. Mother.
Sorry, mother. Sorry...
Brother. Princess. Smile.
Moth! Pretty.
Fly fly.
Catch!
Don't fly. Don't leave me alone.
Crush. Mash.
Open. Dead...no...
NO!
"Celena?"
What? Allen...? "Celena?!"
Angry. "Wha--What is this? Are you a doppelganger?!"
Look around. Unfamiliar! Panic! "Where am I? WHERE AM I?!" Scream. "JAJUKA!!"
Uncloaking Guymelef. Comforting sight. "Lord Dilandau!"
"Jajuka!" Grateful. Euphoric!
Fading Allen. "Dilandau? Wait!"
"Yo, Celena. Hey. Wake up."
Gaddes had tried snapping his fingers, clapping, and poking. He'd found her standing in the middle of a hallway, thankfully one that few people frequented, the expression on her face vapid enough to rival a porcelain doll's. Just when Gaddes was about to full-out slap her (how he would explain that to Allen he wasn't certain; however, having her remain in such a state was not the better alternative), her mouth began twitching. Recalling her outcry at their last sparring session, he clamped a hand over it, just to be sure.
The shock of having his palm slap against her jaw jolted Celena from her reverie. She blinked a few times, clearing away the confusion, then began flailing her arms about wildly.
"Whoa, easy there." He released her. "I came to find you since you weren't at the garden. Van's airship is arriving and you need to go stand and look pretty." He grinned.
Celena took a few moments to sort through the haziness. She remembered walking out of the garden, turning a corner, and discovering the castle's seemingly neverending supply of decorative rooms. As she was admiring the way the daylight streamed in through the windows, enhancing the coloration of the furniture, she'd felt a sharp pain in the back of her head, as if a string had snapped on the web she'd built to reign in her/his memories. Her vision had blurred...
"Are you all right?" Gaddes's frowned in concern.
"Yes," she whispered. Then, recalling her current situation, she repeated her answer, louder. "Of course! I think I must still be exhausted from yesterday." She forced out a shakey laugh. "A nap in a bumpy carriage isn't exactly restful."
"Oh?" Gaddes looked wounded. "And I thought I'd driven it so smoothly."
Celena genuinely giggled at Gaddes' morose expression. She looked up at him. Although he was smiling, concern still bent the flesh of his forehead. She drew in a shakey breath. "Gaddes," she pleaded, "if... if you see me starting to look like that again, wake me up?" Her eyes widened and her heart throbbed in panic. Should Allen, or anyone else for that matter, catch her in that state...
He frowned. His tone gained an edge, "Celena..."
"No! Please!" Desperation laced her words. Celena knew her sanity was deteriorating, but the thought that she may never see the King sent her anxiety spiralling. Dilandau's desires were easy enough to ascertain now that she was privy to his more inner thoughts; he was still hellbent on revenge, and for more reasons than just his scar. This insight was proving to be more and more the curse; for her own motivations and rememberances were buried in his. Dilandau had been the dominant consciousness for too long. Seeing Fanelia was at least a desire that they both genuinely shared, and she absolutely needed to find out why.
Gaddes sighed. "All right, all right, can't refuse those puppy dog eyes. What's going on now, anyways?" An eyebrow arced up in curiousity.
She bit her lip. "I promise, everything will be better later." Then, in a brighter tone, "Shouldn't we get going?"
"Sure, little lady." Although he smiled back at her, he was unethused. This would be Big Secret Number Two he'd be keeping from Allen, and their close relationship had already been bruised by Big Secret Number One. He couldn't afford to do so again, for his sake and for Celena's.
Gaddes led Celena down corridors and hallways that became increasingly more populated. At every corner they turned he would look back to see whether or not she was still following. Thankfully, she was, glancing at him every so often to be sure of her path, then resuming looking at everything around her with bright-eyed wonder. Other than her pallor, there was a childish innocence about her that he couldn't help appreciate. It was only in her eyes that the aura fell; for those blue depths were haunted by the knowledge of the psychopath that lay within. Gaddes only hoped Van would only see the Celena that was marvelling at an exotically decorated pheasant that was rolling by her on its way to the banquet hall.
And not the one that had been determined to spill his innards onto the forest floor.
Chapter 11
The plan was to have Van's airship land at the harbor, then have a stately procession leading from there to the palace, with the King at the head and a score of Fanelian and Asturian military as the train. It was a plan to not only present the King as a vital figure of state, but also to help boost the morale of the people of a city which had taken a severe beating during the war.
The words that Fanelia had used to relate his opinion regarding the whole event were somewhat less than royal.
Celena listened with bright eyes while Millerna retold the tale. The beautiful Asturian princess folded her arms, put on an appropriately dark glare, and proceeded to mutter Van's entire dialogue word for word, some of which would have made the Crusade crewmembers blush. She completed the recital by sticking her pouting red lips forward and putting on a sullen expression that was an no doubt an exaggeration of what the King had thrown at his advisors. Celena giggled.
"Millerna!" gasped her sister. "That was completely inappropriate!"
"Oh, Eries," sighed Millerna, waving her hand slightly in the elder's direction. "It's just a joke."
The three of them were waiting, rather impatiently, at what would be the end of the procession. "Well, to finish what I was saying," Millerna continued, "it was lucky that Allen was there to convince Van to do this. I think it's a wonderful excuse to have a festival!"
Celena couldn't help notice how Millerna gushed at the mention of her brother's name. It hadn't escaped her more asture sister's eye either. Upon their introduction, Celena had been taken aback by the stark difference between them. It began with Gaddes' gallant introduction; a gentle kiss onto a gloved hand. Eries had given him the proper headnod befitting the social difference between her and the mere airship commander, whereas Millerna had rather shamelessly offered him a coy smile and some batting eyelashes. Gaddes had grinned mischieviously back, while the elder sister glared balefully at him from one side.
Celena was introduced next, along with the regret that Sir Allen was not there to do so himself. At that time she was free to drink in the sweet peach and white ruffled ensemble that Millerna had decorated herself with (including ribbons in her hair and matching jewels), and blanch at the dark grey and pale green that Eries had dumped on. She'd even completed the nunnish look by bundling her hair into a plain white hat, leaving only her gold-adorned ears exposed. Celena, despite her short hair and relatively plain sky blue dress (although anyone looked plain next to the radiant Millerna), looked more like a princess in comparison.
Eries' lips had been pressed into a thin line. "When is Dryden returning again, Millerna?"
The younger woman frowned and turned her nose up into the air. "Oh, I don't know." Her tone held an undercurrent of regret, hidden admist a feigned annoyance. "He mentioned that he may drop in for the festival. Who knows." She thrust her wrist in front of Celena's face. "Look! Isn't it just splendid? He brought it to me from Zaibach! It's just wonderful that we can trade with them now."
"It's very nice, Miss Millerna," Celena murmured, flinching slightly. The bracelet's design integrated a complex pattern with gold overlaying silver in a manner that was unique to Zaibach's advanced artistry tools. Despite the beauty, it reminded her a bit too well of the other metalworking technology that Zaibach prided itself in: Guymelef production.
Millerna lifted a delicately shaped eyebrow at Celena's reaction. She'd been privy to Celena's secret almost immediately after it had been fatefully discovered by Allen and her sister, and she'd worried what might have become of her since settling home. Allen had spoken with her at far-spread intervals, and at those times he'd only had brief respites to hold the conversation. The words from him had been that his sister had been doing well. Despite his smile and his assurance, Millerna had read the concern in his shortened smile and lowered tone, but there had never been enough time to explore the issue further. Upon learning of the whole upcoming affair concerning Van, she wondered, and worried, about how much of Dilandau would be attending.
Celena was proving to be rather sane, although quieter than the other bimbos that had been dragged along with their influential fathers (Gaddes had quipped that he and his other fellows were having bets on how many of them it would take to drive Van crazy at the ball later. Gaddes had bet 3; Millerna bet 2). Her medical instincts had also picked up Celena's exhaustion, which she guessed to be from lack of sleep. There was also something else, something that she couldn't quite put a finger on. Celena's demeanor (what little of it she had exposed) was beginning to remind her of someone, just who could it be?
A fanfare blared from a short distance away, and a chorus of hearty cheers immediately followed. Millerna threw away all her apprehension and grabbed Celena's wrist, pulling her for the gates. "They're here!" she cried. "Let's go and watch!"
Celena let out a small squeek in protest, then allowed Millerna to haul her forward. She tried to convince herself that it was the excitement that had her heart pounding against her ribs, but she couldn't deny the fear the laced her veins. They stopped at the entrance of the palace, where Allen and the rest of the royal entourage were waiting to greet the Fanelian King. Eries arrived a few moments later in a far more dignified walking manner. Millerna took the prominent position as representative of the Asturian royal family, Eries stood behind as the secondary representative, and Celena stood behind Allen as she was told. Her brother gave her an affectionate smile, which she responded to in kind.
The fanfares were becoming increasingly louder. Great cheers of greeting and celebration burst and expanded, annoucing to the smaller group where in Pallas Van was currently walking.
It all suddenly faded from Celena's view...
Even through the mists I can see that despised figure, his red shirt leading the way like a beacon. It would perfectly marvelous to break open the skin underneath and watch the blood of a King spread across the floor. Make him pay for the bite of his dragon...
..He wasn't even looking, the fool. Up on the skywalk the Strategos shouts. Even sweeter. Would the little boy's last thoughts be of how his brother betrayed his own country? How dear Folken let me murder its children, allow his soldiers rape its women, command our Guymelefs to burn its proud buildings to dust and powder?
I have him!
Damn bitch.
I hate you...I'll watch your rich blood pool at my feet. I'll let all the soldiers on Vione taste your woman before I roast her alive. I'll--
No...
My face...
MY FACE!
Celena's eyes widened, and her right hand quivered as it moved to cover the right side of her jaw. Her mouth dropped slightly in astonishment.
A man riding a chestnut horse, closely followed by a combined group of proud Fanelian warriors and elegant Asturian soldiers, broke into view admist another round of fanfares and cheers. From a distance, all that could be made out was a suit of dark armour, the chest plate tan and emblazoned with a white and blue insignia. Red tassles quivered slightly in the spring breeze. Dark blue plates covered his arms and forelegs, while a brown shirt and pair of white pants engulfed the rest of him. A pitch black mop, unstyled and hectic from the wind, topped the rough combination, obscuring most of his facial features. Fanelia looked more dressed for war than for a political reception.
Celena's breath quickened.
..Small flying ship
..almost there...
almost have the dragon...
almost have him...
Dragon dropping from the sky, landing as the grand Guymelef. Advancing Dragonslayers. Outnumbered! Our triumph, OUR victory.
Slaughter.
Not him. Us. US!
They're dying, crying, begging for mercy, for help!
Chesta! Gatti! Viole!
.no..NO..
Help them HELP ME alone alone no one else he's
THERE he wants ME
he'll violate me he's coming COMING
he's stopped. he's screaming...
..no no no GET AWAY GET AWAY GET AWAY GET AWAY
HE'S HERE AGAIN!
HE'LL DESTROY ME!
Eries' deceptively calm eyes followed Celena's hand from her side to her cheek, then fixed upon her face as the color drained. To the unknowning observer it seemed as if she was merely staring in childish wonder at the approaching King and his followers, but Eries knew better. Her frown deepened. She looked up at Allen. He was ignorant of the turmoil beside him, eyes focused on his approaching friend. She turned, gestured slightly at a palace guard and whispered in his ear.
Van hopped off his horse at the foot of the palace entrance admist the rapidly decrescendoing cries of the Asturian populace. He ascended the steps at a moderate pace, one hand on the sword at his side.
Kill him first...
Allen took a few steps down to greet him, their hands clasped in greeting. A smile of delighted recognition broke on the two men's faces. The people once again bellowed out their appreciation, for two of the heroes of the War of Destiny were now face to face in front of them; the Knight and the Wayward Boy King, like some fanciful picture from a folktale. Their personal words of greeting were lost among the cheers.
..before he kills YOU.
"Stop it," Celena commanded herself, her voice lost among the cacophony. She forced her hand down from her face and back to its proper position at her side, her eyelids smashing shut in the effort to push Dilandau into the back of her mind.
Admist the quieting clamor, Millerna managed to cry out the proper greeting to the royal visitor. "King Van Slanzar de Fanel! As representative of the Asturian royal family, I, Princess Millerna Sara Aston, welcome you to our country."
"Thank you," came the short, gruff answer.
"Ah, Van!" Allen exclaimed. The soft slide of her brother's hand on her back jolted Celena out of her reverie, causing her to stumble forward. She stared at the ground, the blood rushing to her face in embarressment.
"This is my sister, Celena." Allen shot Van a warning look. He'd warned him ahead of time that they'd been trying to hide Celena's alterego, as well as the decreasing stability of her mental state, but he was uncertain about how Van would react to her in person.
Celena swallowed, thrust aside all apprehension, and shot her head up to gaze at the man before her. She gasped.
Van stood before her not as a king, but as a battle-hardened soldier, one hand hovering naturally over his sword-hilt. He was slightly taller than she was, but still not quite to her brother's height, and the frame underneath the worn armour was beginning to show hints of broadening beyond the boyish, lanky young body. A simple blush teardrop pendant, tapering softly at the bottom in gold, hung from his neck, clashing with the sharp edges to the Fanelian insignia on his chest.
Despite the oddity, it was Van's eyes that held her. They were piercing with a combination of emotions that battered at both of the personalities swirling within her. He hated Dilandau, the signs hidden in the stiff setting of his frown and the twitch of the fingers over his sword-hilt. The urge to respond to his unspoken desire to destroy rushed the adrenaline into her veins. Even so, another emotion held her at bay, tearing through Dilandau's desire to thrust himself at the King and throttle him with his bare hands.
Love.
It was bitter, flavoured with angst, despair, and loss. From the bottom of their souls it came, even though they understood the true objects of their affections were lost to them, perhaps forever.
Through the terror and the confusion, Celena responded the only way she could.
She ran.