Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ No Need To Promise ❯ Labors of Love ( Chapter 2 )

"It's all been so that we
Can shine,
I just know it!"

"NO NEED TO PROMISE"

VISION OF ESCAFLOWNE

I couldn't believe that he had finally come back.

For nine long years, I had thought that he was dead. And now - today - I had seen him with my own two eyes, as I sat at my father's side. My Gaddes had returned.

But now, what was I supposed to do? I couldn't love him - well, I suppose I could, after all. I did love him - I couldn't stop what I felt for him. But I shouldn't love him; I should just forget that we had ever known each other. I should tell myself that he's still dead - to me, anyway. We couldn't have a life together. If Father were to die tomorrow, Gaddes and I could still never be one. It was impossible. It was the fate of women born of the blood, to give up the ones we truly loved for the sake of foolish "Tradition".

I sighed heavily and fiddled with my spoon, idly dipping it into the soup bowl in front of me. I didn't have the appetite I once did and anyway, I hated beef onion soup. But Millerna loved it. And tonight was Millerna's night.

I lifted the ridiculously ornate, silver spoon to my mouth, taking a dainty, civil sip of the soup. My eyes roved discreetly up and down the length of the long dining table, glossing over the seemingly endless stretch of starched, white linen, sparking silver tureens, plates, bowls, cups, platters, candlesticks, and dining ware. Everything was perfect - not a rogue wrinkle in the linen, or tarnished stain on the dishes. Even the tastefully arranged bouquet of flowers that adorned the very center of the table was faultless, even to the most critical eye. It was perfectly trimmed and arranged, not an errant twig to be seen, and none of the flowers clashed. The fragrant scent of the white roses, baby's breath, and ferns mingled delicately with the richer aromas of the roasted meat, the savory soup, the heavy fragrances of women's' perfumes, and the faint smoke of burning tallow.

Satisfied that everything was precisely as I had requested it, I turned my attention to the gathered guests. Father sat at the very head of the table, in his rich chair of red velvet and inlaid gold. At his right, across from me, sat Millerna, chattering away to Allen Schezar. I was pleased to see that she seemed to be enjoying herself. I had been afraid that the appearance of another guest might dampen her spirits.

I sneaked a discreet glance toward Dryden Fassa, who sat two chairs down from me. He was watching Millerna, even while carrying on a heated debate with General Tanis (Father's chief military advisor). I knew from Maremanna - my personal and most trusted maid - that Millerna had been in a fine tizzy when she had learned that Dryden would be attending the banquet. That was solely Father's doing and I, of all people, didn't approve of it. I thought it tactless and rude, to invite a man who was still a great source of embarrassment and uncertainty to my sister, to her own birthday feast. The message was clear to anyone who had brains to think - Father was hoping that Millerna would see the "error of her ways" and consent to being Dryden's bride for good.

I felt a bit sorry for Dryden. I could see in his eyes that he wasn't comfortable with the situation. He knew full well the message my father was trying to get across to my dear, headstrong sister. And from the looks of it, Dryden wasn't too happy on being a part of Father's schemes to deepen the wound in Millerna's heart and pride. It took a great amount of bravery for Millerna to refuse Dryden's hand and I wasn't entirely sure that deep down inside, she didn't still have feeling for the brash, handsome merchant. At one level, I thought she would like to be friends with Dryden - even close friends - but the awkward circumstances of their past made such advances difficult, especially when the whole world seemed to be of the joint opinion that she should be more than Dryden's friend. Her love for Allen was far deeper than any feelings of friendship to Dryden and she'd remain true to the dashing Knight Caeli, even if he never accepted her heart.

Allen is a fool, I thought, watching him with disguised disdain.

Why can't he see that my sister loves him? Or is it that he doesn't want to? Can it be that he looks at Millerna and sees only Marlene? Is he so afraid of what happened in the past that he can't forge a new future?

My rhetorical question brought back painful memories of what had taken place between Gaddes and I in the wine cellars earlier that day.

Are we so afraid of the past that we'll always be unable to reach out to the future? I wondered, gazing thoughtfully into my soup.

No answer appeared to me in the dark brown broth; I saw only the pale reflection of my downcast countenance. How I longed for Gaddes! Right now, surrounded by guests, my father, and servants, during a feast thrown in honor of my sister's seventeenth birthday, I longed for my lost love. No matter what I told myself, no matter how I tried to ignore it, I couldn't forget the taste of his lips, or the feel of his hands caressing my legs. I couldn't forget the feel of his body against mine and knowing that he was somewhere on the palace grounds made my longing all the more difficult to endure.

Will I ever be able to have you as my own, Gaddes? I sighed inwardly.

When Father dies and Millerna ascends the throne, I'll be free from this cruel, forced exile from society and the ones I love. But will I have the courage to put my social position and birth right behind me in order to finally call you "husband?" Is my dream to live Commoner's wife strong enough to overcome the fear that grips my heart every time I think about it? After all these years, after all that happened to us, do you still want us to be one, for me to bear your children? Or are our hearts so scarred that we can't muster the will to bravely take hold of desires that have taunted us since childhood?

A hand appeared out of the corner of my eye, breaking my reverie. I glanced up; a servant was removing my soup bowl and replacing it with a plate laden with mutton and boiled new potatoes.

Stifling a sigh, I cut a small portion of the meat and jabbed it with my fork in the air of a soldier pressing grimly onward to his fate.

I hated mutton.

But no matter - it was one of Millerna's favorite dishes.

Will you ever know, little sister, all that I've done for you through the years? You think I march to Father's drum, trying to keep you chained to what you hate. But it's merely my love for you - I want you to be happy. I know the pain that life can hold and I want to shield you from it. I don't want you to live life like I have, but you don't understand. How can I make you see? How can I tell someone who barely knows me, that I love her? Oh, Millerna, how I love you - the youngest, bravest, and gentlest of us three Aston sisters. I lost Marlene to the ravages of sorrow and hidden disgrace; I won't lose you that way, too.

But there was a foil to my plans and he was presently flirting with a woman I despised with every ounce of my being. Millerna had fallen silent for a time, rapturously savoring her mutton and was oblivious to the sly glances her knight was casting down the table at the sensuous, voluptuous, beautifully seductive slut otherwise known as Delores Orleans.

Delores Orleans was a black widow spider in a woman's body. Her greatest goal in life was to ensnare unwary men in the silken web of her sheets, only to cast them aside when she grew bored of them. She'd leach their wallets, drain their emotions, and steal their hearts, with the sole intention of toying with them. Delores didn't understand the concept of love - all she knew and craved for was power. Power over an unsuspecting man's passions and when she tired of him, she'd heartlessly leave him for another. I'd heard rumors of more than one man known to occupy Delores Orleans' bed, found at the bottom of the City Canal, or hanging from the beams of his stables. And they were the lucky ones.

Those who didn't kill themselves lived a life in shame and frustrated longing, most often having lost their entire inheritance and forced to hide their faces from respectable society. To love Delores Orleans was to sell one's soul to the Dark One himself; nothing good would ever come out of it. I had seen far too many men destroy their lives over the false affection of the alluring little whore.

As far as I knew, there had only been one man to resist Delores' charms. That man was my Gaddes; Delores was the sister of my one-time fiancée, Iago Orleans, and she had been a frequent visitor to the palace during my childhood and adolescence. Never mind that she was five years older than Gaddes - age wasn't a factor when it came to satisfying Delores' desires. Even as a youth, Gaddes had been uncommonly handsome. And the more fetching a masculine face was, the harder Delores would work to make than man hers.

Delores showed no interest in Gaddes until he was about fifteen - before then he had been nothing more than a lanky, awkward child, with only subtle hints as to the man he would become. But every woman in the palace couldn't help but notice when the Stable Master's son began to mature. It seemed like an overnight metamorphosis - Gaddes' chest and shoulders began to thicken, the features of his face began to lose their youthful softness, his voice began to deepen, and his arms and legs began to harden with corded muscle. My childhood friend was no longer a little boy and I wasn't the only one to notice.

For a year, I watched with growing envy and anger as Delores shamelessly flirted with Gaddes. To Gaddes' credit, he never encouraged her outrageous advances, though I wasn't sure at the time why. Delores was certainly a very beautiful woman - a creature straight out of a teenage boy's fantasies. A woman like her could indulge Gaddes' passions far better than a shy, inexperienced virgin as myself, yet he stayed true to me. He confessed later that there was something about her that he hadn't liked; Gaddes wasn't a man who particularly enjoyed women fawning all over him.

"I like doin' the chasin'," he had told me once, when I had plucked the courage to ask him about Delores. "And anyway, she's too old an' I know too much about her to trust her."

Gaddes had always had a knack of finding out about things that people wished hidden. He was no fool; he knew Delores' game far better than she thought he did. He and I hadn't yet realized our love for each other, but he was smart enough to know that sleeping with Delores would only cause trouble. And so he did his best to distance himself from her.

But one thing in Delores Orleans' favor, was her persistence. She had never run across a man who had refused her charms and she was determined to have Gaddes. She went after him with a vengeance, much to my displeasure. Things came to a head shortly before Gaddes' sixteenth birthday - I walked into the stables one afternoon, to find Gaddes backed up in a corner of a stall, an unwilling recipient of one of Delores' sultry kisses.

To say that I was furious would be a gross understatement. But I was curious, too; I wanted to see what Gaddes would do. So I hid in one of the nearby stalls and peeped carefully through the wooden bars that kept the horses from nipping at each other. What I could see of Gaddes' face around Delores' raven hair was a deep crimson. For the first time in my life I was overcome with a burning jealously - I realized that I wanted to be the one to make Gaddes blush, not some shameless hussy.

I watched enviously as Delores broke her kiss, keeping her face inches away from Gaddes', running the fingers of her right hand softly down his face. To my endless satisfaction, I saw Gaddes wince - he wasn't enjoying Delores' attention. But at the same time, I was angry that he didn't push her away. He was certainly stronger than she was and he wasn't taking control of the situation in the manner that I felt that he should have. By the look on his face, he didn't enjoy Delores' advances, but at the same time, he wasn't discouraging them.

Suddenly, Gaddes' eyes widened and he gasped. I couldn't see what Delores had done, since I was at a bit of an angle from the two, but I hadn't liked Gaddes' reaction. Delores pulled his head down and whispered something in my friend's ear. Whatever she had crooned to him caused Gaddes to snap out of his listless participation.

With a growl, he pushed her roughly away from him; I was overwhelmed with a rather nasty feeling when I noticed that his belt was undone and the front of his shirt had been pulled out of his pants. It made my face redden just thinking about what Delores had done to cause such dishevelment.

"Slut!" Gaddes snarled, trying to collect his dignity, drawing himself to his full height. "Get out and leave me alone!"

"You'll regret this, Gaddes Connemara," Delores had hissed, getting to her feet. "I'm not through with you!"

Leaving that threat hanging ominously in the air, Delores flounced out of the stall with a sassy flourish of her blue silken skirt. Gaddes had quickly pulled himself together, stuffing his shirttails hastily back into his pants and buckling his belt with a rather guilty look on his face. His ears were still a deep shade of red, but the rest of his face slowly returned to its normal color.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Gaddes had glanced distractedly around the stall before catching sight of a bucket and shovel in the opposite corner. He grabbed the implements and resumed his job of mucking as if his very life depended on it, his movements jerky with ill-disguised anger.

I had crept out of the stables shortly thereafter, fleeing back to the palace. I didn't see Gaddes for two days after that, not because he hid himself from me, but because I hid from him. I had some issues to sort out - namely, my true feelings for him.

One good thing about Delores Orleans was that she had forced the two of us to finally come to terms with our love. When I next saw Gaddes, a few days later, he had been abnormally quiet and preoccupied, giving me calculating glances when he thought I didn't see. I had been uncomfortable and had been about to leave, when he had grabbed me by my shoulders and kissed me.

I had returned the kiss as best as I could in all my inexperience; I knew then, deep in my heart, that I loved Gaddes with my whole being. I wanted him; I wanted to be his. And it was a thrilling feeling indeed to realize that he felt the same way about me.

Gone was my jealousy for Delores Orleans. From that point on, I knew that Gaddes and I were in love. He had eyes only for me. And it was the most precious thing in the world to hear him whisper his love into my ear.

A few nights later found the two of us in the hayloft, trying to quietly make love for the first time. It's one of the bittersweet things that no one ever forgets - the first night they give themselves to the one that they love. I remembered it so clearly; the way the hay had smelled, how it had poked slightly into my back as I had lain beneath Gaddes. Our love had been hesitant, clumsy, sticky, tender, a bit guilty, and oh, so sweet. I remembered the shy way we both had learned the movements of each other's bodies; the way Gaddes' sweaty skin had tasted on my tongue; the way we had tried to stifle groans of erotic pleasure as our passion grew.

We had never imagined, that first night, or on nights afterwards, the price that our love would cost us. Two young, teenage lovers - how were we to comprehend the pain that our actions would bring to both of our lives?

A woman's laugh interrupted my thoughts. With a barely perceptible shake of my head, I returned to the present, and I frowned inwardly when I realized that it was Delores' laugh that had broken my reverie.

I glanced over at Allen. His attention was once again focused on Millerna, but I caught him giving Delores sly glances out of the corner of his eye, even while he laughed with my sister. Anger welled in my breast - how dare that woman show her face here again after all these years!

I knew that Father had invited Delores; he had invited all those present at the banquet. But I had arranged the seating and I had purposefully placed Delores as far down the table as possible, with the folk of lesser Noble status. But she yet she still managed to do what I had feared; I had known the minute that Allen and Delores were in the same room together, that there would be trouble.

Allen, for all his good points, was bit vain and silly - from what I could see, anyway. And it wouldn't take much for a beautiful, skilled woman to turn his head. Unfortunately, Millerna might have been pleasing to the eye, but she was nothing next to Delores' sultry, dark, exotic beauty, and my dear sister was anything but skilled when it came to entangling a man's heart.

And I knew that Allen, as an undeniably handsome man, was sure to catch Delores' eye. I had seen enough of Delores to know that she was already marking the foolish knight as her next conquest. I could only pray that Allen was perceptive enough to see through her false affections and not break my sister's heart further.

I'll have to tell Gaddes to warn his foolhardy friend, I thought, before remembering with a pang that I couldn't see Gaddes.

But for the sake of his honor and Millerna's heart, I can't let Delores have Allen, I battled inwardly. I know! I'll write Gaddes another letter, explaining the situation to him, and give it to him through Maremanna.

But that wouldn't work either, I realized. Mare was a sharp young woman and she was sure to piece two and two together, if she hadn't already.

What should I do? I felt a bit panicked. I can't let this go on for long - this must be nipped in the bud immediately, before Delores creates another scandal at Allen's expense! And I won't sit idly by and watch him break my sister's heart.

I couldn't tell Allen, because that would be a gross breach of protocol on my part; I couldn't tell Delores off because it was none of my business (and I'd rather not speak to her, since she blamed me for what had happened to her sea-faring brother). And I couldn't warn Millerna because it would probably lead to awkward questions.

I'd have to tell Gaddes. But how?

I knew that he and Allen were friends, but that didn't mean that Gaddes would realize what was happening before it was too late. I couldn't depend on the hope that Allen would tell him anything - Gaddes would know the danger the instant that Allen uttered Delores' name, but would Allen talk? I didn't know how much Allen confided in Gaddes and disaster might ensue before the knight had said a word.

I'll tell Gaddes. That's the only way.

I wondered for a minute if my love-starved mind wasn't merely grasping at straws for a legitimate excuse to see Gaddes again, but I brushed it aside.

For my sister's heart, I would risk mine again.

* * *

After supper, I stole away from the festivities and social cliques that gathered almost immediately. I knew I wouldn't be missed; I slipped through the marble halls on my own, making a beeline for my bedroom. Somehow, I reasoned, I'd get in touch with Gaddes on the morrow and tell him discreetly about Delores and Allen. Surely one night left to their own devices wouldn't hurt anything - Allen wasn't so gullible that he'd crumple immediately from pressure. His sense of honor, at least, would keep him from becoming entangled in Delores' web for a few nights.

Right now, I just wanted to rest. I wanted to think over my decision - to sleep on it, one might say.

I slipped into my room softly, barely making a sound. The room was dark; I had told Mare to go home early that evening, so that she could catch up on all the years that she had missed with her younger brother. Mare was my only maid and the only person I allowed to attend to my personal needs. She was wonderfully calm, collected, quiet, caring, and kind; the only person I truly considered a friend. But even then, I was guarded around her - I had learned the hard way that friends were never to be trusted. I had trusted a "friend" once and it had cost me my daughter, my lover, my happiness, and my father's love.

Even though Mare had been relieved hours before for an early night, she had still taken care to turn down the edges of my covers, to set my favorite book within reach, and to lay out my nightgown and robe. The fire was stoked to a soft glow - a few jabs with the poker and the coals would begin to heat up once again. Everything was perfectly set for a quiet, normal evening; I realized with a sudden jolt that I didn't want a normal, quiet evening. I didn't want to spend my evening alone.

With a sigh, I realized I had been sighing a lot that day. The thought caused a small smile to tweak across the corners of my mouth as I struggled out of my tight corset and laced-up dress. I was terrible with laces; when it came to taking off my own complicated clothing, I was all thumbs.

How could I ever hope to be a Commoner's wife? I thought in frustration. I can't even undress myself! Face it, Eires, you're a pampered Royal and you could never hope to live a Common life without being discovered.

The frustration of the day finally settled onto my shoulders like a tangible weight and I sank down onto the downy corner of my bed. With a soft sob, I hid my face in my hands.

This is all so hopeless. Oh, Gaddes! Why did I have to see you again? It was different thinking you were dead; there was no hope, no temptation that way. But now that I know you're alive, things are suddenly so different. I want you like never before; I want to be yours.

For the first time in years, I considered running away. As a young girl, I had devised many scenarios to sneak out of the palace forever. But the difference between then and now was that I was older. I was more cautious. I didn't have the gall to go through with my escape plans anymore; the desire had lain dormant for so long I didn't know if I could resurrect it to its former strength. Would my fear forever doom me to live confined within this gilded cage?

How strange, though, I mused dryly. This time yesterday and nights before for the last nine years, I've contemplated suicide, trying to pick up the courage to end my misery. But tonight, I don't want to die - I want to live! Free and Common; the wife of a man whom I've loved since I was a girl. How things change…

Thoughts tumbled about in my mind like the beads in a baby's rattle. Thoughts of anger, frustration, longing, love, and fear. I couldn't sit still and just think - I'd done enough of that for nine years. All of a sudden, I was restless, as if there was something that I should be doing, but I wasn't quite ready to undertake it. To give my mind something else to think about and to set my fingers to work, I fiddled with the back of my dress, laboriously trying to untie the laces. Finally, I managed to unloose my corset and I wriggled out of its tight embrace of whalebone and ivory.

Who thought of making these damned things? I held the corset in front of me in disgust. And whose bright idea was it to put the laces in the back? Just another way of men making women dependent on someone other than themselves!

With a snort, I tossed the corset into the seat of a nearby chair.

Of course, it's interesting to note that the only corsets made with laces in the back are those of Noble women. It's all a conspiracy, I say!

That was another thing I envied about Common women - they didn't have to depend on anyone to do simple things like unlacing their corsets. How I envied their freedom; I knew that there were thousands of Common girls and young women in Asturia who longed to be in my position, to be pampered and served. I wondered what they would think if they knew that the very princess they envied longed to be in their simple shoes.

In a matter of minutes, I had slipped out of my dress and heavy shift. With some amount of relief, I pulled my nightgown over my head; it was the only thing that I wore which allowed me to breathe. It was comfortable and threadbare - Mare had often insisted on making me a new nightgown, but I had always refused. I enjoyed the simple comfort that it brought to me. I had so many new and fancy things that I enjoyed having something a bit old and worn. The nightgown had been a deep purple at one time, but over the years and the numerous washings that it had endured, it had faded into a pastel shade of lilac. Mare was the only person who knew that I still owned it; Father would have had a fit if he had known that I owned anything old and "beneath" my dignity as a princess.

Wrapping my more "respectable" robe around my body, I moved slowly toward the large bay windows of my bedroom that open out onto a little balcony. I always took a step outside each night before I went to bed; looking at the stars always had a calming effect on me. There was an ancient saying that my old nurse used to tell me as a little girl:

"All your wishes will come true someday, little one," she used to tell me as I had sat on her knee. "If you wish hard enough, that wish will eventually reach the stars and they'll give you the last of their power. Just think of that, Princess, the power of the stars!"

Gazing up at the stars, I whispered a wish deep within my heart.

I want to be a Commoner - I want to live a happy, simple life and I want to be Gaddes' wife. This is my fondest wish.

But there was a stipulation to wishing - the stars would only give me their power if I worked myself toward the fulfillment of that wish. They'd give me their power, but I must be the one to make the wish come true. How I prayed that I would have the faith and the determination to make my one, true wish a reality.