Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ Behind Enemy Lines ❯ And the Women Bleed ( Chapter 19 )

Behind Enemy Lines

By: rainjewel

Chapter Eighteen: And the Women Bleed

~*~

"Once the game is over, the king and the pawn go back in the same box."

~ Italian Proverb

~*~

Van had ceased to think. It was painful and too confusing for him to handle anymore. He was dimly aware that in his clenched fist he was squeezing a man to death, that he was screaming incoherently like a madman.

But it didn't get under his skin. He was calm, uncaring, and dead to the world. Nothing mattered in the world. Locked in a little black room, a coffin, he was. Nothing could reach him, nothing could help him, and nothing could stop him.

And he didn't give a flying fuck. Maybe he could die. Take his sword and slit his throat, letting his blood flow on the stone floors like liquid relief.

No, said Van's moral conscience, popping up, no, you have to live. You have to run this country.

Was Fanelia worth it? Did a thousand people he didn't know outweigh all the pain and suffering he was going through? He had never wanted to be king. Was this damn country he'd fought for out of duty only…was it worth losing Dilandau and marrying a woman he didn't love any more? Did it matter though? Dilandau was already lost, Leitken had just assured him of that. The sorcerers had removed all chances of him ever remembering his past with Van. Dilandau's rebirth, his absolution, wasn't even a memory.

He's not going to get better. Dilandau is lost to me forever. I'll never love Hitomi. I have a duty to this country-to rule it and to produce its future king. I have nothing but duty anymore.

Duty was all he had to live for anymore.

Live…

Van realized what he needed to do. He had to go through with his marriage to Hitomi. He had to have an heir. And Dilandau…Dilandau had to die. They could never…never…they could never be lovers again. They were meant to be enemies-Dilandau was created to destroy him.

I am the reason Dilandau was born, and I will be the reason he dies.

Van's eyes snapped into focus. His hands dropped to his sides. Leitken dropped to the ground, face red and lips purple. He wasn't dead…but he was close. His ragged, wheezing breaths filled the cell.

Van didn't feel a thing.

The heavy sound of the prison door scraping the ground resonated through the room. Through the now open doorway the sound of Verdi's screaming filled the cell, punctuated with the dull thud of a guard's body hitting the ground.

The door slammed shut, the noise choked and quieted. Now the only new sound was that of another person's breath. Van recognized it instantly.

He withdrew his sword and turned.

A pale hand on the door. Silvered hair slightly mussed. Bare feet on the floor.

Ruby eyes gleaming.

Internally, something inside Van twitched.

Dilandau opened his mouth to say something, but Van strode forward quickly, determined. Without a warning, he brought his blade to the pale throat of the older boy and pressed him back against the door. He thrust a knee at the right hand holding a sword, knowing the weakness that lay there. Dilandau's harsh intake of breath was delicious and the weapon dropped to the floor.

Van was surprised; so was Dilandau. He didn't think he'd have pinned Dilandau so easily-obviously his actions weren't expected. Van stared right into Dilandau's eyes, realizing for the first time that he'd grown quite a bit during the other boy's absence. They were the same height now. And, Van realized, the same age.

Sixteen years…that's all I can give to him.

"Van?" Dilandau whispered. "What are you doing?"

You don't want to know.

"I know your secret," Van replied.

His voice sounded alien to him. He sounded like his brother. Dead.

Dilandau frowned. "Van, the only thing I have now are a bag full of memories I wish weren't true. Van, you have to believe me, when I went to Zaibach they-"

"Erased your memory? Replaced it with a new one?" Van finished for him.

"Exactly! But I-"

"Remembered."

Dilandau looked at Van with mild irritation. Number one, he hated being interrupted, and number two, if Van knew all this he shouldn't be sitting here with a blade against his throat.

"I know you're lying," Van said. "I know that you're acting now, just like you did at the beginning with Celena."

"You're wrong," Dilandau said, looking down at Van with bewilderment in his eyes.

"Cut it out," Van said flatly. "I know it's not your fault. I'm going to destroy Zaibach for what they've done. But you're the most dangerous enemy I have, one that I can't beat…except maybe now."

Dilandau blinked slowly. "You're going to kill me."

It was then that Van realized Dilandau had changed. Back in the days of the Great War, Dilandau was immature, angry, and arrogant. When he was Van's lover he was broken, moody, and sad.

This Dilandau was strong. This Dilandau was wise. But this Dilandau was still violent and custom made for destruction. All the greater the need for his demise.

"Van," Dilandau whispered, "If I was acting, would I know about manipulating you when I was Celena? They programmed me to remember nothing. How can I tell you exactly how Allen and Gaddes died, how you flew me up on the roof that one day. Would I remember how we went to Zaibach, how we…how I killed Zlain, and then…" Dilandau closed his eyes. "…Then how I…cried."

"Stop it," Van said.

"What about coming to Fanelia, Merle locking herself in her room? Taking all the thorns off of Celena's roses, when you made me go shopping with Celena…when we…we…"

"Stop!"

Dilandau's eyes flew open again. "What about Celena? If you think I truly am still the monster I was made to be, is my death worth hers?"

Van stilled. He stared into Dilandau's eyes. His numbness broke and he felt how much he wanted to believe the silver-haired boy's words. And Celena…was her death worth his duty? His godforsaken duty?

I can't believe him.

Ruby eyes were drowning him. Van floundered, trying to keep a grip on his resolve.

With a flick of his wrist, he sliced into the torch beside the door, the room's only illumination. It fell to the ground, sputtered, and died.

"You can't look me in the face, can you?" Dilandau said. For once it wasn't his usual mocking voice. Van wondered if he'd ever hear it again.

Without the light, the feel of Dilandau's body was magnified ten fold. Every familiar angle, every slippery silky feel of Dilandau's skin pinned beneath his cried out to Van. Heat from Dilandau's wounds washed over Van's face, the faint smell of roses invaded his nostrils.

"Even if I believed you," Van whispered, trying to ignore the rise and fall of Dilandau's stomach beneath him as the soldier breathed, "What does it change? We can't go back. It's all too different."

"I can't explain that to you unless you truly believed me, Pigeon."

Van flinched. Dilandau's breathing hitched, and Van realized he'd nicked him with the sword.

"You'd let me kill you," Van whispered, "Wouldn't you?"

"If the only person you love, more importantly, the only person who's ever loved you, wants only to kill you, there isn't a point to living, now is there?"

"If I put my sword down, I could still kill you before you could get yours."

"I could kill you without using a sword Van. I've spent my entire life as a murderer, and I was better at it when I was six then you are at sixteen."

No deception, no cleverness. And he wasn't trying to show off.

"You're asking me to trust you, Dilandau."

"You asked it of a country. I'm not saying it's easy or that I deserve it. But it'll be the only thing that can save…us."

Van grew quiet and his body stiffened. His country had no reason to accept Dilandau, yet he had pleaded with them to trust his judgment and keep the young man. Dilandau trusted his judgement-he was asking Van to trust him with the truth.

Dilandau made one final plea. "Van, I'm not going to try to kill you. I love you in immeasurable amounts. The sorcerers were wrong-they've always been wrong about me, underestimated what I could do. I wasn't supposed to be able to separate from Celena. I wasn't supposed to be able to care about anyone else. It's my word against there's. Pigeon, please, believe me."

Van closed his eyes. "I'm the only person in the world you'd ever beg."

"Yes."

Logic was squashed under emotion. Duty was thrown out the door. Van's heart opened itself one last time.

Van lowered his sword and stepped back, tears streaming down his cheeks. If Dilandau was lying, it didn't matter. He would welcome his death rather than his duty or the death of this beautiful boy.

"I'll believe you."

His sword clattered on the ground.

Before he could take another breath, arms were around him, a familiar body was folded against his, fitting perfectly. Lips brushed lightly over his cheeks, hands ran through his hair and down his back.

Van bent, broke, and finally collapsed. Dilandau carried him to the ground, then gathered him up, cradling him.

"I missed you. Oh gods I missed you," Dilandau whispered, tucking Van's head under his chin.

Van clung to Dilandau's shirt. He was sobbing uncontrollably and couldn't pin down the reason why. He was sad, he was happy, he was scared…he was loved.

"I didn't understand," he said. "I'm sorry, I didn't understand-I never thought…"

"It's all right. Everything's okay now," Dilandau said. "It'll work out, I promise."

Van wiped his tears away. "I didn't want to marry her."

"I know," Dilandau whispered.

"I love you. I don't care what happened, I really don't," Van said. Tears fell from his eyes, but he was no longer sobbing.

And so it went. For over an hour they sat together, Van and Dilandau, curled together, cuddled like cats. A constant stream of apologies, promises, and vows poured forth from their mouths as they reaffirmed the love that they felt for each other. Finally the words stopped and the kisses began, followed swiftly with the sweet touches they remembered so well and had missed for so long.

It was still too new, too confusing, and too painful for more than that. But they were together again and for now, it was enough.

~*~

Celena closed the door to the room that held Princess Eries and Merle, then slumped against the hallway wall. She felt drained of all energy. Queen Millerna had sent her down here to be looked after by the two, not wanting her to "hamper" the queen when Dilandau finally woke up. Celena had tried to explain that she wouldn't help Dilandau as long as he was acting crazy, but Millerna hadn't believed her.

She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the throbbing in her right hand. The connection…Celena couldn't even begin to search for it. She had been so certain of it when she slammed the blade into her hand. She knew that it still pulsed deep inside her, a spiritual bond that would last until the day they died.

All Celena was left with was responsibility. If she died, she murdered Dilandau.

She sobbed, brokenly against the wall, wails reaching the heavens with piercing sorrow.

~*~

Dilandau brushed Leitken's sweaty hair away from his face. The violet-haired Dragonslayer lay upon a soft bed, armor stripped and comfy as you please. Dilandau had always made it custom to sit beside the injured men of his command, and Leitken was no different.

Princess Millerna was slumped in a chair across from him on the other side of the bed. Her hair was undone and her hands red from all the work she had done this day. Verdi, long black hair gleaming and hard green eyes blazing, sat beside the queen. Her gaze promised an immeasurable amount of pain if he should try anything "funny" concerning her king. The king himself was leaning against Dilandau, eyes closed but not sleeping. The pale young man kept his arm around Van, but the other rested with the soldier on the bed.

Dilandau sighed, staring at Leitken's face. The boy's neck was bruised and slightly swollen. It probably hurt like hell-he made a mental note to get some hard liquor sent to this room, no matter what Millerna said. She had been not the least bit flustered after his rather dramatic departure from his room, and the minute he had the common sense to get Leitken to her for medical attention, she had promptly slapped him across the face.

His blood boiled at that thought, but he said nothing. Restraint was needed for some situations. When dealing with royalty, it was key.

Verdi had been banging on the prison door the whole time Van and Dilandau were in there, screaming for guards and other such nonsense. Her voice had been broken with fear. She might have been the Ice Queen from Hell, Dilandau thought, but she loved her king and country, and was not about to let any harm come to them. When the two boys had finally picked up Leitken's limp form, Van wincing, the king had yelled through the walls to tell Verdi to make sure there weren't any soldiers at the door. He then explained the situation to his advisor, who despite all the chatting, greeted them with her own sword poised and ready for action.

Van had paled at the sight. Dilandau had all but laughed. It was apparent that Verdi had never held a sword in her life, but it was quite moving to see a woman so emboldened to risk her life for that of her king's. Never mind that if Dilandau were going to have harmed Van, he would have done it within the hour they were in there.

Details, details.

Van shifted in his seat beside him. Dilandau dropped his arm as the king leaned back, opening his eyes. Van caught his hand just as it brushed past his thigh and entwined his gloved fingers with Dilandau's bare ones. The dark-haired boy smiled at him and Dilandau felt his face soften.

Van looked across the bed.

"You know Verdi, your face might stick that way," he said gently.

Verdi's sour expression didn't change, but her face flushed a bit.

"Come on, Verdi," Dilandau said, biting back a smirk. "You have to admit that this is definitely a step up from trying to kill him."

"I'd prefer you homicidal all the same. At least then there's a valid reason to kill you," Verdi said. Her eyes were dark.

Dilandau was just about to open his mouth with a biting retort when a wave of pain washed over him. His hand spasmed, clenching Van's fingers mercilessly. His other flew to his chest before he could stop it. Dilandau gasped raggedly at the sensation, drawing concerned looks from both Van and (surprisingly) Verdi.

"Dilandau!" Van said, grabbing the other boy by the shoulders. "Dilandau, what is it!"

In response, all Dilandau could do was lean into the strong hands holding his shoulders. The feeling was one of immense grief, seeping through his frame, its epicenter his heart. It was so overwhelming he could barely think…but he identified it almost immediately as an emotion that was not his own.

Which could only mean one thing…

Verdi was shaking Millerna, panicked, loudly calling the queen's name. Dilandau felt his stomach drop and his eyes began to burn. With a cough he trapped the sensation under the resolute fist of his dogged will power. He waved his hand at Verdi and the bleary-eyed Millerna, then looked to Van.

"I'm okay," he said, voice strained. He slumped back against the chair, eyes closing slightly, blurring the image of Van's frightened face. "It's Celena…I'm gonna…see if I can help."

"What should I do?" Van whispered, but Dilandau wasn't interested in answering.

Never in his life had he expected Celena to feel something this deeply. It didn't fit his perception of who she was. Dilandau sank into himself, but made sure he could always feel the soft pressure of Van's hands on his body. He needed to help Celena…he needed to help himself.

He had, or rather Celena had, tried to communicate with him via their unnatural link only once. It had, quite frankly, scared him shitless and he had shut out the alien voice in his head quicker than you can say "boo." It was only later that he realized it was Celena, testing the powers of their bond. He believed that after that he had said it had scared her whenever the subject was brought up.

He wasn't scared this time.

The grief inside him surged. He caught it, felt where it stemmed.

Celena?

Sorrow flooded his senses. Dilandau doubled over in pain. He was vaguely aware of Van's arms around him, or of the groan that left his lips.

Celena?

D-Dilandau?

He shuddered…or was it her?

Celena, are you all right? What's wrong!

I'm sorry Dilandau-chan, I'm so sorry! Gods, I should never have done that to you!

Dilandau heard himself moan again as the pain swelled. He held fast to the image in his head of a blonde-haired girl.

Celena, it's all right. I'm fine! You didn't do anything wrong.

But I hurt you. I betrayed you, Dilandau-chan! I betrayed myself! I wasn't loyal to you. I shouldn't let anything come between-

I wasn't myself, Dilandau lied. He didn't want to think of how like himself his actions at the wedding were.

But-

When people are doing things you think are wrong, always do what's necessary to make them stop. Be true to what you hold right.

Silence.

Celena?

Nothing. The grief ebbed and died completely. The connection was lost.

Dilandau jerked violently as he came out of his trance. His eyes flew open and he inhaled sharply.

Van was holding Dilandau close, pressing him against his chest as if to protect him from the world. Both boys were on their knees, chairs pushed back and abandoned.

Gently Dilandau leaned back. Van's concerned, bright brown eyes raked over his face. Dilandau rearranged his puzzled expression into something more neutral. He shook himself, trying to piece together actuality.

"So," he said offhandedly, "is it always that intense?"

The fierceness left Van's gaze.

"Only for the first couple of times. It gets easier."

Dilandau raised an eyebrow. He looked over to Millerna, Verdi, and Leitken. The young soldier had woken up during the commotion and all were staring at him in shock. A slight twinge of embarrassment crept through Dilandau. Ignoring it, he broke free of Van's embrace and stood.

"I need to find Celena immediately."

As if on cue, the door on the far side of the room shuddered with a blaring thump. The handle jerked and held.

"What is it?" whispered Millerna, voice fearful. "What's going on!"

Dilandau was already speeding to the door. He twisted around, catching the keys Van threw his way. The action was automatic, fluid, and unnerving to the others in the room. For boys who had been enemies for so long they worked together with odd grace.

There was another thump against the door. Flipping through the keys, Dilandau selected a small, heavy, gold one. He didn't know if it was the right one or not, but it looked as if it might work. He buried it in the keyhole and twisted it.

The door unlocked with a hiss. Dilandau's well-contained anxiety began to surface and he yanked the door open with a violent tug.

Celena, seconds from ramming the door again, charged straight into Dilandau before he could react. He stumbled back a few steps then fell hopelessly to the floor. Celena, momentum suddenly gone, took one shaky step but managed to stay upright.

Dilandau propped himself up on his elbows. Celena put a hand to her forehead, looking dizzy, and then her gaze fell on Dilandau.

Her blue eyes filled with more tears as Dilandau took in the wet face, ragged lilac dress she never changed out of, and the disheveled curls.

"Celena," he said softly.

"Dilandau-chan," Celena whispered. She dropped to her knees at once, then wrapped her arms around Dilandau's waist. He sat up as best he could, hands running through her hair and down her back as she cried into his chest.

The other occupants quietly became intrigued by other various distractions.

Dilandau was at a loss. There wasn't a way to convene what he felt, what he wanted to say to Celena. He supposed there must have been some choices made in his creation that affected this. The sorcerers must have been forced to choose between good looks or good communication skills.

Dilandau wasn't about to complain.

In the end, it didn't even matter. Celena knew how he felt and vice versa. Pain turned to relief, relief to joy. A thousand apologies drifted through their shared hearts. A million wordless phrases passed between them, mending and soothing the damage of the past colors until Celena's tears had disappeared and her eyes lost their wetness.

Finally, after a long embrace that patched their souls, Dilandau broke the silence.

Gently he kissed her golden head of curls. "I love you, Celena. I'll love you forever."

Celena bobbed up in his arms, pressing her cheek to his.

"Me too, Dilandau-chan. Me too."

~*~

Millerna rose quietly from Leitken's bedside. The purple-haired boy was sleeping soundly, still battling the after effects of the poisoned dart and coping with Van's attack. She though he was an utter doll-no machismo, no bloodlust, just a simple nice guy who went in the army out of duty. He was as close as a straight man could get to becoming the perfect male.

She cast a glance at the other occupants of the room. Van, Dilandau, Celena, and Merle were all clumped together on the floor, sound asleep. Celena was huddled close to Dilandau's back, his fingers loosely entwined with hers as he lay on his side. Van was on his back, Merle's head pillowed on his chest. Strangely, Dilandau was curled around Van and Merle, the catgirl's body trapped between the two.

And who'd a thunk? Millerna thought, smiling as she closed the door behind her and stepping out into the hall. The air was cool. Nighttime had fallen, which would explain everyone's sudden drowsiness. Celena, Leitken, Dilandau, and Van had been chatting forever. Verdi had stepped out long ago, muttering something about "having a country to run." Merle, though accepting of the weird situation, was silent.

It had been a long, hard day. Millerna began to walk down the hallway. Despite the rapidly approaching autumn, this day had been rather warm, causing Millerna to gather her hair on top of her head in a poofy yet still beautiful bun. Absently she felt the stickiness on the back of her neck with the clean hands of a surgeon, annoyed. She wondered if the sweat was from the unseasonable heat or the emotional stress.

So many things to take in all at once; there were so many questions in her head without any answers.

She had accepted the love between Van and Dilandau with little hesitation. Over the past colors she'd opened her eyes to the world and gotten over the terrifying concept of homosexuality. Seeing two men holding hands or a pair of girls kissing had become common place for Millerna. Under her rule the misfits of other kingdoms were flocking and prevailing in Asturia.

No, it certainly wasn't the idea of two men having "relations" that bothered Millerna-it was the fact that the last time she checked Dilandau was a card-carrying psychopath.

But explanations had come and gone. There wasn't any excuse for Dilandau's recent actions-but they were understandable. They weren't the manic, bloodthirsty concepts and tactics the pale soldier was known for. He had been cold and calculating, reacting more out of pain than of sadism. He had fought under an umbrella of lies.

However, Millerna thought, Jeture help him should anything like this ever come to pass another time.

A loud shattering sound cut short Millerna's thoughtful steps. She paused, looking about the hall. A strident shriek followed by another twinkling of glass broke through the still air.

Hitomi.

Millerna heaved an internal sigh, despite her empathy for the girl. Hitomi had never been strong. She had never been able to stand on her own without anyone's help, or to deal with large shocks to her emotions. She could be moved to courage should a loved one be threatened, but Millerna couldn't help but think that was because the girl couldn't (subconsciously) bear the solidarity should someone die.

She went to the room she thought the cry had come from. Millerna was in an old, mostly unused section of the palace-it was damaged by the destruction of Fanelia but was so unimportant no one had bothered repairing it. It largely consisted of old advisory offices, most of which were abandoned before even Goau's time.

Millerna quietly opened the door to the room. Standing, green eyes bright and face rigid, clothes mussed, was Hitomi Kanzaki. She was staring at a broken paperweight on the ground, left hand clenched on the side of an old office desk. Moving slowly and quietly, Millerna edged to the back of the room and sat behind the desk, watching Hitomi's tense back. She knew the strange girl would talk when she was ready. She would listen, counsel, and do whatever she could for her friend, just as they had always done for each other during the war.

After a minute or two, Hitomi straightened up. Millerna gazed at the honey-colored head and waited, hands primly in her lap.

"It's sick," Hitomi said, finally. Her voice was quiet, but her fingers skittered at her sides like angry spiders.

Millerna raised an eyebrow at the uncharacteristic reaction. "Hm?"

Hitomi whirled around. Her face was stony and pink, her green eyes penetrating. She walked to the desk, picked up the last paperweight, then began shuffling it back and forth between her hands. She leaned in closer to Millerna.

"He's with Dilandau. How can that not be sick?" she asked, staring at the paperweight.

"Why is love sick?" Millerna asked.

Hitomi's face contorted and she slammed the paperweight down on the desk. Millerna jumped.

"I'M THE ONE HE'S SUPPOSED TO LOVE!" Hitomi yelled. "I'M THE ONE HE WAS GOING TO MARRY!"

"Marriage and love are two very different things, especially among royalty," Millerna said softly.

"Why Dilandau then? Van needs marriage, not love for Fanelia. Why couldn't he just learn to love me?" Hitomi asked. Her eyes, eyes that saw more than anyone else, began to burn with tears. Her voice wavered as she ended her words.

"I think…" Millerna thought how to word her response. It was apparent Hitomi knew she wasn't going to get to marry Van. "I think that was his intention from the start…but I also believe he cares too much about you and respects you too much to do that."

"But why did it have to be Dilandau!" Hitomi screamed. She burst into tears. Her hands hit the edge of the desk. Hitomi fell sobbing to her knees.

Millerna felt an unwelcome wetness rising in her eyes. She quickly stood and went around the desk. She kneeled by Hitomi's side and put her hands on the shorter girl's shoulders. Hitomi sobbed even harder and leaned against Millerna.

This is why I dislike men-women always are willing to weaken themselves for them.

"I thought if I came back…I thought he would have married for an heir…I shouldn't have left…but Dilandau…" words tumbled from Hitomi's mouth, fragmented by emotion.

Millerna was a doctor. Doctors help people in need, even if it was painful.

"Hitomi, it hurts, I know. Van loves you. His heart is large and compassionate beyond measure, as is yours. You and him are so kind, good, and wonderful-almost identical in personality. But you can't seem to understand each other. Do you know yourself Hitomi?"

The girl frowned. "No."

"Then," Millerna said sadly, "You cannot understand him. Van needs Dilandau for that very reason. Those two feed off each other and create something beautiful."

"Van needs a psychopath to understand him? How does an insane albino's undoubtedly skewed perception of the world make Van love him?" Hitomi whispered bitingly.

"Hitomi," Millerna said, fighting to keep irritation out of her voice, "Talk to Dilandau. Talk to Van. Then you will see."

Hitomi sniffled against Millerna's sleeve. "Even if they need each other…it still hurts, Millerna. More than you would ever know."

Millerna smoothed the girl's hair with a pale hand.

"My sister Eries once said it's always the women who end up getting hurt. Sometimes, I'm very inclined to think it's true."

~*~