Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ No Need To Promise ❯ Family Affairs ( Chapter 7 )

"Even if I lost tomorrow,

And even if I lost you, too,

I want to shine,

Smiling as best as I can."

"NO NEED TO PROMISE"

VISION OF ESCAFLOWNE

It's funny how life changes sometimes. One day, I was yelling at Reeden not to set fire to beef hash and the next, I was yelling at him not to set fire to lilac bushes.

On my way back from Da's grave, I was violently accosted by a dour Katz, who curtly informed me that "the Boss" needed to see me. I scuttled off immediately, wondering what the hell was so damned urgent and how the reticent Katz managed to speak in as few words as humanly possible. The man led a seriously edited life.

I was halfway to the palace when it dawned on me that Katz had neglected to tell me where Allen wanted to see me.

"Son-of-a-bitch!" I swore, not caring when an older Noblewoman strolling along nearby stared at in me scandalized condemnation.

I stood on the top of the third flight of stone steps that lead up the hill to the front of the palace. Fuming inwardly, I ran frustrated fingers through my hair, right hand on hip, not giving a damn what anyone thought about my bristling persona. There were at least a thousand places that Allen could have been at the moment; I, for one, wasn't about to systematically investigate every nook and cranny of the palace.

However, I was under orders to appear and I knew that Allen, for all his laid-back camaraderie, was a stickler for unfailing obedience. If I didn't show - and soon - he'd be fit to tie.

Just then, I saw an unmistakable red crown bobbing up and down on the opposite side of the bushes bordering the steps.

"Reeden!" I bellowed, stomping toward the youngest member of the Crusade.

The bouncing headscarf stopped dead in its tracks and after some rather violent convulsions, the bushes in front of me opened to reveal a bemused, narrow face.

"Yeah, Sarge?" he demanded, grinning up at me cheekily.

"Wipe that damned smirk off your face," I barked - the smile disappeared instantaneously. "And tell me where the Boss is."

"Er…um…I think he's in one of the hothouses with Princess Millerna," Reeden replied slowly after a short, contemplative pause.

"There's twelve of them, Reeden," I growled darkly. "And I ain't searching every damned one!"

"Uh…" I had to admit that Reeden was pretty funny to watch when his nerves got rattled; he had a look on his face resembling that of a wet puppy.

"Did Katz come an' get ya'?" another, deeper, calmer voice drawled behind me.

I whirled around and came face to face with Kio, the muscle of the Crew and the most dependable of them all. If anyone had an answer to my question, it was levelheaded Kio.

"Yes," I snapped, even though Kio's presence was beginning to have its customary calming effect on my more irascible natures.

"Hmm…shoulda' known better than to send him to get Sarge," Kio shook his huge head, gazing balefully at Reeden.

"He was the first guy I ran into - so shoot me!" Reeden sniffed.

"My pleasure. Would a crossbow do?" I scowled, silencing his smart mouth…for the moment, anyway.

"The Boss' already left for the Crusade," Kio crossed his arms over his enormous chest.

"Where the hell did `hot houses' come from?" I turned toward Reeden and cocked an eyebrow.

"Well…y'know…" Reeden squirmed.

I was about to say "no, I don't know," when Kio interrupted me.

"He was in the hot houses, sayin' goodbye to Princess Millerna, but he done left a few minutes ago. Told me he was goin' back to the ship an' that we were supposed to follow him."

"So what the hell are all of you running around here for?" I shook my head in amazement as the three of us began to jog back down the steps.

"We were tryin' to find you!" Reeden insisted defensively. "Where were you?"

"Eating breakfast," I quibbled; I didn't feel it was necessary to explain my actions, or my feelings, to Reeden and Kio.

They didn't question my response, however. They had no reason to; after all I never showed the holes in my armor to others, even to men that I considered close friends. I was their "Sarge" - tough as tanned leather, with a mean streak a mile long, and a vocabulary that could even embarrass them on occasion. There was no need for them to know that I was really a very gentle man at heart, with feelings that ran as deep and strong as those in any human.

We were almost to the foot of the steps, when I heard someone calling my name.

"Sergeant Gaddes! Sergeant Gaddes! Wait a minute!"

I turned around and saw Millerna dashing down the steps toward us.

"Princess Millerna?" I bowed, outwardly calm and collected, though inside I was feeling incredibly like a child whose hand had gotten caught in the cookie jar.

I knew the youngest princess rather well, but meeting her the morning after being discovered in a very compromising position with her older sister was awkward, to say the least. Forcing my face to remain politely neutral, I straightened and gazed solemnly down at her.

"Excuse us for a minute," she glanced around me at Reeden and Kio, before grabbing my sleeve and dragging me several feet away onto the path that lead to the horse stables.

"What the h-…what's going on, Princess?" I scowled; I knew her well enough to know that she wouldn't take offense to my brusqueness.

"I just needed to talk to you for a few minutes, Gaddes," Millerna tossed her head, a smile dancing in her eyes. "Don't be such a crab!"

"Then cut to the chase - Allen's goin' to blow a fuse if me `n the boys don't show up soon," I grumbled.

"All right then!" Millerna sniffed; I wondered if Allen knew how pretty she was when she got into a tiff. "I just wanted you to know that I'll be taking care of Eires in your absence; she'll be okay."

My bad mood dissipated instantly and I gazed at Millerna in a new light.

"You didn't flip your lid when you saw…er…when…when you saw me with her?" I was completely dumbfounded. "You ain't gonna' turn me in?"

"No, of course not!" Millerna laughed softly. "I…I saw a different side to Eires this morning. She was happy, Gaddes - you made her happy. I thank you for that; I'm not going to take away my sister's only source of contentment."

"Well…I'm glad you feel that way," I sighed deeply with relief.

"And I wanted you to know that I'll be playing courier for the two of you - any time you want to send a letter to Eires, just tell Allen to give it to me," she commanded.

I fixed her in a searching gaze, but all I saw reflected back at me in her expressive blue eyes was heart-felt sincerity. With a crooked smile, I realized that Millerna could be trusted and that she would watch over Eires for me.

"Thanks, Princess," I grinned, patting her fraternally on her shoulder. "You're a great little lady, you know that?"

"Nonsense, Gaddes," Millerna blushed, but I could tell that she was pleased with my praise. "I'm just doing what any sister would do."

"Don't you think Allen may find it sorta' suspicious if I give him a letter and tell him it's for you?" I wondered, suddenly serious.

"Oh…good point…" Millerna frowned and shifted uneasily on her feet. "Tell him…tell him…"

"I know what to do," an idea suddenly popped into my mind. "If I want to send a letter to Eires, I'll send it through Konik."

"Your brother?" Millerna looked at me in astonishment.

"He's known all along about Eires and me," I laughed ruefully, rubbing the back of my neck. "He…uh…sorta' walked in on the two of us, like you did - he didn't say anything to anyone, though."

"Ooohh…" Millerna nodded slowly and then frowned again. "But he wouldn't be able to get a letter to Eires."

"No, but he could give it to you," I pointed out patiently. "Whenever you came to the stables."

"That's right," understanding began to dawn across the princess' face. "After all, Konik, as Stable Master, is the only one allowed to saddle horses for the Royal Family."

"Exactly," I nodded. "And when you go out to town this afternoon, you can tell him about this little scheme of ours, eh? I'm sure he won't mind contributing his efforts."

"Are you sure about that?" Millerna insisted.

"I'm sure," I assured her. "Konik's in our corner."

"Doesn't Mare know, though?"

"No…I haven't told her and I don't think Konik has, either. And I know Eires wouldn't - not after what happened between her and Aisia."

"Well, you'd better be going now," Millerna stated, glancing at Reeden and Kio, who had been watching the conversation between us with great interest. "I wouldn't want Allen to `get in a tizzy,'" she turned back toward me and graced me with a radiant smile.

"Yes, ma'am," I bowed slightly and turned to go.

"And…Sergeant Gaddes?" Millerna called after me.

"Yes, Princess?" I looked over my shoulder at her.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, your Highness," I nodded in farewell before rejoining my two chief crewmembers.

"What was that all about?" Reeden demanded the minute we had walked out of Millerna's hearing range.

"You tryin' to steal the Boss' girl?" Kio grinned widely. "'Course…I don't think he'll even notice…"

His deep voice trailed off when I fixed him with an evil eye.

"What the hell do you think it was about?" I snarled. "And no, I wasn't `stealin' the Boss' girl'!"

"Let me guess," Reeden chuckled and rolled his eyes, ignoring the dark looks being cast his way. "Let's go get ya' a pink tutu, a gold gilded bow, a quiver o' arrows, an' a pair o' feathered wings - you're gonna' play the Archer fer' the Boss an' the Princess!"

Kio roared with laughter - I'm sure at the mental image of me in a prima donna's frilly dancing dress. Reeden continued to snicker, even when I grabbed him by the back of his scruff and all but manhandled him along through the palace gates and down into the city's main street.

I didn't deny what he had said, though.

Let them think what they want, I reasoned - anything to keep them from guessing the true nature of Millerna's and my conversation.

Though, I frankly doubted that "the boys" would figure out that I was Princess Eires' secret lover. Eires had been so long out of the public eye that I was certain that she hadn't entered the equation for scandalous rumors for years. Furthermore, I had enough cause to doubt Reeden and Kio's mental capabilities - the day they pieced two and two together was the day I became king.

* * *

"Gaddes! There you are!" Allen shouted the minute he caught sight of me.

"Present and accounted for, sir," I grinned, pulling on my thick, brown leather gloves. "Whatcha' need?"

"Get the Crusade ready for flight," Allen ordered brightly.

I eyed the bulky red hunk of creaking metal that was officially known as the Crusade, as he dashed off to see to other matters.

She had been in the Schezar family for years and the ship was beginning to show her age. As I stood on the ground, eying her critically, I saw several rust patches that would have to be fixed, old bolts that would have to be stripped and replaced, peeling paint that would have to be redone, and old battle "wounds" that would have to lovingly "bandaged." The Crusade had taken those of us on board her to hell and back without a scratch (for the most part) and we - her "Crew" - would stay true to her until her old engines refused to lift her off the ground.

And to us all, the Crusade was the best damned airship in Gaea. She had out-maneuvered guymelefs, had outstripped Zaibach's impressive flying fortresses, and had withstood several aerial battles and impressive, near miss escapes.

We were her crew - a rag-tag band of seven men and their polished, suave, Knight Caeli commander. Allen owned the Crusade; hell, he was named after the ship, though he insisted, whenever the subject came up, that the ship was named after him. I knew ships and I knew that the Crusade outdated Allen by at least a decade, despite Allen's protests to the contrary. Technically, he should have been our captain, but the young knight knew next to nothing about airships and wasn't too proud to admit such. So he had regulated various duties to those of us best qualified, content to stay in the background and let us make the decisions as we saw fit.

And we all loved and respected him for it. Whether he knew it or not, Allen had done the smartest thing that any commander could have done. He understood what many didn't - if you want success, just set the rules and let the people under you free reign within those boundaries. We had all rewarded Allen's genius; the crew might have been a hodge-podge of crazy social misfits, but the Crusade was the best run ship in the Asturian army.

Kio "manned the wheel"; in other words, he was the one who got the "fun" job of piloting the Crusade. Fun for him, anyway - for the rest of us, it could sometimes be as terrifying an experience imaginable. Kio, being the dependable, stable, steady individual that he was, was a master of his craft, but there had been times during our quest for Atlantis when all on board thought that he was a raving lunatic. He might not have made a very good melef pilot, but in Kio's hands, the Crusade could do things that would make sleek Fanelian merchant ships look like derelicts resurrected from the junk yard.

Then there was Teo, who had been raised a tailor's son. So, naturally, he was the one in charge of the sails - stitching, patching, sewing, lowering, raising. Despite his sour, pessimistic outlook on life, he was a good worker, never shirked his duties, and could do anything asked of him with a needle and thread.

Oruto, despite his utter lack of class or looks, and disturbing fetish for knives, was a mechanical whiz. The bald private could fix anything that ticked or tocked out of turn in the "old lady's" engines. Oruto was good with his hands and even better with tools - the trick was, motivating him to do anything. Born a first-class bum, I often had to breath fire down his neck in order to make him work. But what he lacked in motivation, he made up in his efficient, brilliant prowess amid shafts, gears, wheels, and belts.

At first glance, Kio's brother, Pyle, appeared to be no more useful than a homeless drunk puking his guts out in the alley ditch behind a bar, but when forced dry for a prolonged period of time, he proved to be an integral part of the crew. Oruto and he were best friends, so I usually paired the two up; Oruto kept Pyle away from the bottle and Pyle kept Oruto out of trouble. It was a rewarding duo (at times) - Pyle especially proved his worth during our travels two years prior.

There had been several occasions when Oruto had needed a part to fix the engines, but there had been no conceivable way of getting said part. So, Oruto would scrounge about on board for strange odds and ends and had given them to Pyle, who used seemingly worthless pieces of scrap to recreate the missing parts (or a reasonable facsimile thereof). Pyle had earned his spot on board as our blacksmith/on-the-spot inventor; it was soon discovered that, when supplied with enough materials, Pyle could prove unusually creative, designing various gadgets and gismos that were very effective in keeping the Crusade functional in a pinch.

Just as I was Allen's second-in-command, so Reeden was mine. Out of us all, he was the only one shuffled out to Fort Castelo for something other than a serious "crime" - not unless one counted being vertically challenged as a crime. Reeden was young, loud, optimistic, wisecracking, pyromaniacal…and embarrassingly short. The Army had taken one good look at him and laughed him out to Fort Castelo, claiming that he was too scrawny for the infantry, too uncoordinated for the cavalry, and most certainly too short for melef piloting. But, as the old adage says, one man's military barrel scrapings is another man's cream of the crop.

Reeden (or "scarf-rat" as I sometimes called him) was a priceless asset to the Crusade. Because of his size, he often helped Oruto in fixing the engines - he could fit into tight places that the tall mechanic couldn't. Reeden's size and nimble sure-footedness also made Teo a perfect assistant to take out on top of the ship to fix sails in mid-flight (though Reeden was never made the "anchor man.") Finally, his seemingly endless amount of energy and speed made him a great errand boy - not a job he particularly enjoyed, but one that he was well suited to, nevertheless.

However, there was one area in which Reeden particularly excelled and which made him useful from time to time - especially in combat situations. He was fascinated with all things that went "boom"; no matter where we went, his makeshift explosives lab went with him. It was a damned nuisance at times, mainly when he was mixing an experimental concoction without measuring the ingredients correctly. Miniature explosions of varying intensity occurred on a regular basis at the fort; one especially magnificent detonation almost resulted in the entire annihilation of the barracks. Needless to say, Reeden was forbidden from mixing anything more volatile than cookie dough onboard the Crusade, but he still brought along a good supply of ready-made bombs…"just in case."

Oh…and he was damn fine cook, too; he fixed all meals on board the ship. However, Reeden had forced us at paring knife point to take a solemn oath of secrecy - we were bound to silence, upon pain of having our hearts cut out with his soup ladle. What a pity; he could have made a killing selling his honey-nut muffins and "watchamacallit" stew (he never told us what, exactly, was in it). Both were to die for, but little Reeden apparently didn't think them worthy of sacrificing his machismo - even if it were for the betterment of fine cuisine.

I didn't have any one particular job on the Crusade; Allen delegated his commanding duties to me and it was my solemn duty to see to it that everything ran smoothly. I was the "old man" during flights - I praised where praise was needed, kicked ass when things were going sloppy, played referee during fights (often at the endangerment of my own nose), and presided over the Crew like the patriarch of a particularly dysfunctional family. From my point of view, I got the hardest job of all; I took responsibility when things went wrong. Duties were delegated through me, I had to take care of all the aggravating, day-to-day details of the ship and Crew, and I was the one who had to make split-second decisions.

I took my duties very seriously, though. On board the Crusade, I was "God." The buck stopped when I put my boot heel firmly down on it. It was up to me to see that everything ran smoothly, and that Allen didn't have to worry about the general affairs and wellbeing of his crew and ship. Though, there were times when I felt like the clown-faced ringmaster of a circus sideshow - trying to keep order among the vastly different personalities represented by my six-man crew could often test the patience of a saint. And a saint I most certainly was not.

Finally, there was reticent, squinty-eyed, laid-back Katz. In the course of seven years, I don't think I had ever heard more than half a page of words out of the quiet man. One wouldn't know to look at him, but I found out early on that he was a mathematical genius. And so, Katz was the man in charge of plotting courses and reading maps - a job at which he was extraordinarily adept. Even during my days at sea, the best sailor among us couldn't have written up charts, and navigated with the precision and skill that Katz possessed.

Which reminded me as I took a hasty head count, checking to make sure that each member of the Crew was gathered. The blond-haired squint was nowhere to be seen.

"Where the hell is Katz?" I turned to Reeden and demanded harshly.

"Um…dunno," Reeden shrugged, mimicking my visual sweep of the gathered men.

"Shit!" I groaned, smacking the heel of my palm against my forehead. "Don't tell me he's still back at the palace!"

"I think so, Sarge," Kio sighed deeply. "You know Katz - he's in his own little world. Sometimes, I don't even think he knows what's going on."

"Damn it," I grumbled, glancing sideways at Allen, who was watching the proceedings with mild interest.

"One of the men missing, Gaddes?"

"Yes sir," I nodded reluctantly. "Katz."

"We can't very well leave him here, now can we?" Allen arched his brows.

"No sir…though I'd have a mind to do it, if we didn't depend on him so much," I shook my head in ill-disguised disgust as I began to buckle my left arm guard around my wrist. "Reeden!"

"Yeah, Sarge?" our standards were so lax that Reeden didn't even bother to stand to attention.

"Go find Katz and drag his sorry ass back here," I commanded, turning my arm around so I could buckle the guard just beneath my elbow. "We're dead on the ground without the sorry bastard, unfortunately."

I always adopted a foul-mouthed, crude, mean-talking, tough-guy attitude around the Crew. The perfect counterbalance to the nurturing, pleasuring, giving, sensitive lover I showed to Eires, and the rueful, happy-go-lucky, playful brother I showed to Konik and Mare. When I was around my "boys", I was all business; my alter ego emerged, if you will. I didn't take any shit from them and they knew it; I prided myself on running a "tight" ship.

"Umm…Gaddes," after Reeden scampered off, Allen lowered his voice so that only I could hear. "Could you do me a favor?"

"Yes sir?" I quietly replied, turning toward him as I finished buckling my right arm guard over my sleeve and glove.

"Could you…watch your language while on board?"

"Er…yes sir," I nodded, though I was a little puzzled by Allen's request.

A flurry of movement at the corner of my eye caught my attention; I couldn't hide a smile when I spotted Serena, Allen's long-lost sister, sulking along toward the ship, bedecked in a ridiculous affair of lace, frills, and pastel pink, topped off with a flower-covered straw hat.

"I understand completely, Boss," my grin grew wider as I turned back toward my commander. "You wouldn't want me to rob the innocence of Serena's virgin ears, eh?"

"Gaddes, really!" Allen looked properly shocked. "I would like Serena to start being a lady - her vocabulary doesn't need pickling!"

"'P…pickling'?" I snorted, trying to keep the laughter at bay.

"That's what happens when you add salt to food, isn't it?" Allen bristled.

"I guess so," I shrugged affably. "What does salt have to do with anything?" I was playing dumb, but it was so much fun jerking Allen's chain at times.

"I was referring to your language!" he snapped, his eyes flashing indignantly. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't cursing sometimes referred to as `salty' language?"

"Yes sir," I affirmed. "And I'll try my best not to pickle Serena's vocabulary - its pretty well preserved as it is now, sir."

"Gaddes!" Allen hissed in a righteous fervor. "Do you mind? Please, respect my intentions."

"Yes sir," I acquiesced, though I privately disagreed with Allen's entire approach to his sister.

He was trying to make her into something that she wasn't. As far as I was concerned, that was just as bad as what the Zaibach sorcerers had done when altering her fate and superimposing Dilandau into her personality. Serena was a firebrand and needed to be treated as such; she needed room to grow on her own and experience life as she saw fit. Allen, however, didn't understand this and was determined to shape his younger sister in "a lady."

Good luck tryin', Boss, I snorted inwardly as I saw Serena march onto the Crusade, her shoulders set in the unrelenting rigidity of rebellion. The girl sure as hell doesn't belong in silks and lace! I thought with a laugh as I watched her disappear into the ship's confines.

At one level, I felt sorry for Allen. One of his main reasons for wanting to take up residence again at his family estates was the close proximity to Palas. He would see to it that Serena was introduced into "proper" society; I knew something he didn't, though. I knew the Boss was setting himself up for inestimable embarrassment. Serena wouldn't have any of it and she'd make sure everyone knew it, too. I kinda' felt sorry for "proper society" as a whole, too - they didn't have an inkling about what was going to hit them.

At the very least, she'll stir the pot up a bit, I mused. Might do this stiff-necked city and its "high society" some good, actually.

Yep, no doubt about it. Palas was going to be set on its ear in the next couple of months. Until either they learned to accept Serena, or Allen despaired altogether and finally had enough sense to let her do as she pleased.

Of course, I wasn't saying that Serena should be allowed to do anything she wanted without some sort of restraint. Rules were definitely good, but I thought Allen imposed too many rules on her. He seemed to forget (or denied it altogether) that a small, clinging remnant of Dilandau's fiery machismo still smoldered inside of Serena's feminine soul. She would never have the class or grace of Millerna or Eires, but in a way, if she had, she just wouldn't have been "Serena." Allen's sister was her own woman, as fiery and uncontrollable as the boy she had been forced to host within her body and soul for the majority of her short life.

Allen seemed to think that stuffing Serena into dresses, forcing her into high society, and making her learn proper, lady-like etiquette, would keep what of Dilandau lingered with her at bay. But I was of the sneaking suspicion that his straight-laced, take-no-prisoners approach to Serena wasn't encouraging Dilandau to stay on. If only she were finally allowed to be her true self, then, and only then, would her psychotic, unnatural alter ego leave her in peace.

I never spoke my thoughts and suspicions to Allen, though. I knew he wouldn't want to hear them - he could be quite stubborn himself at times. He thought that he knew what was best for Serena and any mediation I tried would only embitter him against me. So I stayed out of the heated battle of wills waged between brother and sister - or, I stayed out of it vocally. Both Allen and Serena would individually seek me out after their frequent verbal fights and pour their frustrations out to me. I was their confidant; conversely, I probably knew the two of them better than they knew themselves or each other.

But it simply wasn't my place to tell Allen what to do. I just tried to smooth ruffled feathers, drop a subtle hint here and there, and hope for the best. Most of my efforts went to Serena, trying to get her to see her brother's point of view. It usually didn't work, but I didn't stop trying. One day, one of them would have to wake up and realize that what they were doing wasn't helping a damned thing. Until then, I would just stay where I was and try to make them see the error of their ways through veiled innuendo and double meanings.

For the next several minutes I trotted about, shouting orders, and making sure that everything being put on board was meant to be put on board. Old habits died hard in some of the Crew and I had to make sure that nothing was smuggled onto the Crusade, especially not anything illegal. In addition, things had to be checked off as being those which were needed; nothing worse was reaching our destination and finding out that something - important or no - was left on the city docks.

Things were finally beginning to fall into place and in a few minutes we'd be ready to cast off from the docks and make our short trip to the Schezar Estates. I paused for a minute, thinking about this very thing, and a rather important question came to mind.

"Sir Allen!" I shouted over the din of Oruto and Pyle arguing heatedly about what parts would be needed; I felt the overriding desire to take each by their collars and knock their heads together in order to get five seconds of silence in which to think straight.

"Yes, Gaddes?" Allen called back; he was at the front of the Crusade where I couldn't see him, but I could most certainly hear him and that was all that mattered at the moment.

"Is there a place to dock the Crusade out there?" I demanded, referring to his estates.

"Yes - a small part of the grounds is beach. The property borders the sea and if I remember correctly, there's a place to dock the ship," Allen replied loudly.

Good, I sighed in relief. I'll have to have Katz plot that into future courses.

Speaking of Katz, I was beginning to wonder where in Gaea he and Reeden were. I had been so busy seeing to the affairs of the ship, that I hadn't given them another thought since Reeden had scampered off to find him.

They'd better be here soon, I grumbled. We're almost ready to take off.

"'Ey, Sarge!" Reeden's high-pitched voice startled me and I almost fell backward off the dock in surprise.

"There you are!" I turned around quickly and glared down at him. "Where the hell were you?"

"Katz is a slug," Reeden replied by way of explanation.

Before I could open my mouth and really lay into him for being late, he grabbed something inside of his vest and waved it right underneath my nose.

"Got a letter fer' ya', Sarge - from Princess Millerna. She all but ambushed us on our way back out of the palace," his impish face was alight with a mischievous smile.

"Give me that," I snapped, snatching the folded piece of parchment roughly from Reeden's hand. "And get on board!"

"Aye aye, sir!" Reeden saluted comically before scampering away. "You'd look great in pink frills, Sarge!" he called over his shoulder.

Oruto and Pyle, who were within hearing range, divided a rather strange look between Reeden and me. I sighed long-sufferingly and stuffed the letter safely into my back pocket. I'd read it later, when I didn't have to worry about any of the Crew; I was relieved that Reeden and Kio, at least, thought that I was playing the go-between for Allen and Millerna.

Oruto and Pyle continued to look at me oddly until I curtly ordered them on board. I knew enough of Reeden's motor mouth to know that by the end of the day, the rest of the Crew would know what his reference to "pink frills" meant. Rolling my eyes in exasperation, I sighed, resigning myself to the fact that I was in for an indefinite period of harassment.

I absently marveled though, as we cast off and the engines began to purr and hum, that Eires had written a message so soon. I hadn't been expecting to hear from her for at least a week or two at the earliest - I wondered what she had to say that was so important.

Of course, proclaiming our love for one another to each other was pretty important, I realized with a small, secret smile. As I watched the city below us slip away, I knew that I would miss being so close to her, but I also knew that it was probably best that we had some breathing room between the two of us. The last thing I wanted was a repeat of our teenage tragedy; I resolved then and there, that at all costs, I wouldn't get Eires pregnant again.

I simply couldn't do that to her, not again. It simply couldn't happen - our children simply weren't meant to be.

My thoughts were interrupted when Katz gruffly asked me to look over his plotted courses. With a firm resolve, I pushed all thoughts of Eires and our affair to the back of my mind; I would deal with them later, when I had some privacy and peace.

Right now, there was business to attend to, like any other day.

* * *

"I never realized the house would be in such a terrible condition," Allen sank into a nearby chair with a despondent slump.

I nearly laughed when his settling weight caused a little cloud of dust to puff out about him, but I controlled myself. I knew that it would only make Allen more depressed than he already was - this hadn't been the homecoming he had obviously been anticipating.

"What happened to the servants who used to work here?" I wondered, dusting off a corner of a desk before gingerly sitting down on it.

"Most of the younger staff left after Mother died and…and Serena and I disappeared," Allen replied with a deep sigh.

"And the older ones?" I prompted. "What about them?"

"All dead," Allen groaned, hiding his face in his hands. "The butler, the cook, their daughter, and my old nanny stayed on for several years, but they've all died."

"Even the daughter?" my eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Well…all except the daughter. She married three years ago and moved out of the house," Allen shook his head in despair. "Leaving this house to ruin."

"It's not too bad," I tried to accentuate the positive. "Nothin' the boys and I can't fix."

"I know," Allen nodded slowly. "Still…it's discouraging to come home and find it like this," he waved his hand at the room around us.

We were sitting in what had once been his father's den. The heavy maroon drapes were pulled tightly shut over the grimy windows and the whole room was covered in a thick, almost toxic, layer of dust. Earlier, I had walked about the length and breadth of the sprawling mansion with Allen to view the damage.

Many of the rooms had been damaged by water - in several parts the roof was damaged, allowing the elements access. Paint and expensive wallpaper were peeling all along the corridors, the wooden floors were scuffed and scratched, old, handmade rugs were unraveling and fading, windows were filthy and sometimes broken, and the entire house creaked with disuse and disrepair. The only person left to take care of the grounds was the old gardener, who was so crippled with arthritis that he could barely trim hedges much less keep a thirty-room, two-floor mansion in tip-top shape.

But unlike Allen, I refused to be daunted. Maybe it was because this wasn't my home and I didn't have fond memories of what it had once been; I was ready to start remolding. It would take a considerable amount of time - several months at least - but it could be done. I knew first hand what the Crew could do when the shoe leather hit the pavement; in a matter of weeks, we could have the grounds looking as resplendent as ever, half the rooms of the first story repaired, and at least half of the house repainted.

I told Allen this, too, and he glanced up at me, the ghost of a smile lurking on his face.

"Thank you, Gaddes. I knew I made the right choice when I decided to appoint you Head Steward."

"And, of course, we'll defer to you for all remolding changes," I grinned encouragingly. "You'll see - this old house'll be back to her former glory in no time."

"Gaddes, you're good man," Allen stood up and walked over to where I was sitting. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

I didn't reply since I couldn't think of any graceful way of accepting his praise. So I just sat there with my usual lop-sided grin. He didn't seem to notice, though, since he was glancing around the room with a thoughtful expression on his face. It then hit me how I could safely change the subject.

"Whatcha' gonna' do now?" I shifted as comfortably as I could on the edge of the desk without actually losing my balance and falling off.

"I think…" Allen's voice drifted off for a minute before he seemed to decide on a definite course of action. "I think I'll go find Serena and try to decide what to do for sleeping arrangements tonight."

"Want me to come with you?" I moved to stand up, but Allen put a restraining hand on my shoulder.

"No, that's all right. You've been running about after the Crew and me all day - take a few minutes and relax. You look rather tired," he eyed me searchingly with mild concern.

"Hell, I'll be okay, Allen," I rubbed the back of my hand across my eyes; I was feeling a little tired, but I wasn't about to admit it. "But a few minutes to sit and think over things certainly wouldn't hurt."

"Good - I'll be back in a few minutes," Allen moved briskly toward the door. "And, Gaddes," he paused, his hand on the doorknob.

"Yes sir?"

"Just take it easy - I don't want to come back and find that you've left to go chase Reeden around the grounds or something," he warned.

"Yes sir," I couldn't repress a short laugh. "I'll stay put."

Allen nodded, seemingly satisfied with my response, and confident that I wouldn't get up and leave as soon as he shut the door. With one last, warning look over his shoulder, he closed the door and I could hear his booted footsteps echoing down the empty halls in search of his errant sister.

With a deep sigh, I pushed myself off of the desk and moved toward the chair that he had been sitting in just minutes before. Without any preamble of class, I flopped down onto the cushion, immediately enveloping myself in a cloud of dust. Coughing and sputtering, I nevertheless stayed put, waving my hand about in front of my nose in an attempt to make a clear breathing passage. After two first-class sneezes for good measure, the dust settled down and I leaned back against the hard, engraved wooden back.

Who the hell ever thought it was a good idea to carve designs in the back of a chair? I wondered, squirming about in my seat, trying to find a spot where a bird's beak or the curving outline of a vine wasn't poking into my back.

I finally gave up and sought asylum on the floor.

At least no one carved the damned wall, I thought with a wry smile as I pressed my back against the fine-grained boards behind me with a comfortable sigh.

Leaning my head back, I closed my eyes and relaxed my muscles, preparing for yet another catnap. I was quite accomplished at the feat of taking sixty-second naps and being able to wake up from them without feeling hung-over or cranky.

My minute long power-ups, the ends of my mouth curved in a smile.

I was just about to drift off into said catnap, when I suddenly remembered something. The letter that Millerna had given Reeden was still in my back pocket. I had pushed all thoughts of the letter aside since early that morning; now my curiosity came back in full force. Gone were all thoughts of a catnap - I was ready for action.

With a grunt, I shifted my weight and reached behind me, laboriously tugging the parchment out of my pocket. Once it was free, I settled back against the wall, crossed my legs, and carefully broke the Royal Seal that kept the contents of the letter secret.

This was my treat that I had been saving all day. This was the only link I had with Eires; we were so close, closer than we had ever been in the last nine years, yet it seemed like we were a thousand miles apart. With a deep sigh, I shook the parchment open and began to read, blessing Millerna's maturity, and savoring Eires' every written word.

* * *

I couldn't believe it. I was nearly in shock - Delores was back and she was up to her old tricks again.

On Allen, no less! I groaned; that was a disaster in the making!

Eires was right - I'd have to tell Allen about Delores and her intentions. The melef-winning question was, "how?"

* * *

I didn't get a chance to corner Allen and have a heart-to-heart talk to him that night. I realized with a shock, as he was showing me the musty glory of my new bedroom, assuring me that it would only be a short-term inconvenience, that he had been entirely too strung-out lately. I considered bringing it up to him, but decided that what we all needed was a good night's rest; I wondered, however, how good a night Allen was going to have in a house so full of dark memories.

I myself couldn't go asleep immediately. I sat, sprawled across the old sheets that had thankfully been covered with a duster, leaned against the headboard, and clasped my fingers behind my head. A single candle flickered on my bedside table, casting eerie shadows on the dark walls across from me. I decided as I lay there, that as soon as I could, I was going to whitewash the oak walls - the dark grain of the wood made the room look gloomier than it already was.

My idle thoughts were interrupted when the bedroom door creaked open, scaring me witless.

"Serena!" I squeaked in astonishment, staring with concern at her wan face.

"Gaddes…can I come in and talk for a little bit?" she asked; I noticed with a frown that her voice was shaking.

"Of course," I scooted over on the bed and patted the spot right next to me.

I was used to Serena coming in at strange hours of the night; several times she had fallen asleep, curled up right next to me. My heart went out to her - she was so much like a frightened, bewildered little sister. We treated each other as such; I was her big brother and she was my little sister. At heart, Serena and I were exactly the same - wild, untamable, stubborn, and utterly vulnerable. At one level, I knew that Allen wouldn't like the way she came into my room at night, but I didn't care. All we ever did was talk; I made up for the one area in which he was completely wanting as an older sibling.

I had always been a good listener, anyway. It was how I had become such a good friend to Allen - I was always there when someone needed to talk about their problems. Sometimes, I never said a word, just letting the other person do all the talking until they couldn't think of anything more to say. At other times, I offered my advice for whatever it was worth - I sensed that tonight, that Serena might be in need of advice.

"You okay?" I demanded as she climbed onto the bed beside me.

"Yes…um…no," she drew her knees up to her chest and rested her cheek on her knees. "I don't like this house - it's creepy."

"It used to be your home," I reminded her.

"I know," she nodded miserably. "But I still don't like it - it's so…so…dark."

Serena would never admit such to anyone other than me, but she was deathly afraid of the dark. I knew this and patted her comfortingly on her shoulder.

"Have another nightmare?" I prompted kindly.

"Yes…the same one," she closed her eyes as if to shut out the darkness. "About Dilandau…and…and the things he did. I wish he would just leave me alone, Gaddes," she lifted her beautiful silver head and gazed beseechingly at me, tears running down her cheeks. "I feel like such a freak - I wish I could be normal. I wish I could be a lady like Allen wants me to be."

"Not to discourage you or anything, Serena," I smiled ruefully. "But you're not exactly `lady' material - you're your own woman. Don't try to be anything that you're not, or try to be someone else just to please your brother."

"I know," Serena whispered a sigh. "But I want him to be proud of me and I feel that the only way that I can do that is to be this…great `lady.' He wants me to be like Mother, which I can never be."

"You could, if you wanted," I murmured.

"Well…I don't want to be like Mother. You're right, Gaddes - I want to be my own woman. I wish, for just once in my life, that I was allowed to be who I am," she shook her head despondently. "You know, I've never been allowed to be myself - I don't even know who `I' am! All I know is `Dilandau'…I don't have the first idea how `Serena' should act."

I was silent; I couldn't think of what to say. I didn't think anything needed to be said at this point - Serena just needed to vent her frustrations. Great was my astonishment, however, when she abruptly changed the subject and I could feel her inquisitive fingers tracing a path across my shoulders. I suddenly realized, with an embarrassed blush, that I had forgotten to put my shirt back on when she had come into the room.

"Are…are these scars on your back, Gaddes?" Serena wondered, fairly breathless with curiosity.

"Um…yeah," I squirmed and tried to lean back (I had leaned forward when she had come to sit beside me, the better to see her.)

But Serena flattened her hand on my naked back, forcing me to stay the way I was. I didn't quite know what to think - she had never taken such an intimate interest in my physical features before.

Of course, I've never sat next to her bare-chested before, I thought wryly. And Eires would have been just as curious if she had been in a position to see my back last night, too.

"Where'd you get them from?"

I dreaded the question, even though I knew it was inevitable, given the circumstances. I thought about shrugging it off, but I knew that straightforward honesty was the best policy.

"I used to be a sailor," I explained simply. "And a beating was standard punishment for any who failed to do their duties right. It was supposed to keep the crew in order."

"That's…horrible!" Serena removed her hand from my back and I was finally able to lean against the headboard, hiding my old whip scars.

"It was part of life as a sailor," I shrugged.

"Who was your captain?"

"A man by the name of Iago Orleans," I knew my face darkened when I uttered the name.

"I take it the two of you didn't get along very well," Serena observed in a small voice.

"No, we didn't."

I didn't elucidate - there was no need to. What Serena didn't know and what she would never know, was that Iago and I had never liked each other for two, very simple reasons. He hated me because of the way that I had slighted his sister; I hated him for being Eires' chosen fiancée.

"What happened? How come you're in the army now?"

I closed my eyes in silent dread. I had never spoken of this to anyone - not even Allen - but I knew that Serena wouldn't go blabbing to anyone. Taking a deep, steadying breath, I told her of my past crimes.

"I lead a mutiny on board our ship, the Mermaid, and Iago was killed - by my own hand."

Serena gasped softly, but I didn't turn to look at her. I didn't want to see the revulsion and loathing in her eyes; instead, I pressed doggedly on.

"When our ship finally came back into port, all of us were seized by the authorities. I was convicted of insubordination and murder - the penalty for which, is death."

"But you escaped?"

"Of course - or else I wouldn't be sitting here right now," I bowed my head. "I had bribed one of the guards and the night before the executions were to take place, I broke free. I left Palas and headed for the one place that I knew no one would ever look for me - Fort Castelo, an army installation."

"Did you change your name?"

"Actually, no," I shook my head. "I just stopped telling people my surname - as far as Allen or any of the Crew knows, `Gaddes' could very well be either my last or first name."

"What…what is your name, then?"

"Hunter Gaddes Connemara II," I lifted my head proudly and gazed thoughtfully at the wall in front of us. "Gaddes is actually my middle name - I've always gone by that, since my father went by `Hunter'."

"But what did you tell the army recruiters? And Allen? You have to have a last name written down somewhere on army papers, don't you?"

"I told them I was `Gaddes Hunter'; Allen's never personally asked me about my name, since I told him first off that I wanted to be called `Gaddes' and nothing more."

"I see…Gaddes?"

"Hm?"

"Why won't you look at me?"

"I guess I'm ashamed of myself, Serena," I finally turned my head and gazed solemnly into her large, silvery-blue eyes.

To my great astonishment, there was no loathing, no condemnation, no horror reflected in her face or eyes.

"Well, don't be," she placed a comforting hand on my bicep. "I can't condemn you for your past, considering that mine was a hell of a lot worse."

"True…but you did what you did, not knowing," I looked at her sorrowfully. "I knew what I was doing."

"Don't worry, Gaddes," Serena simply shook her head. "Your secret's safe with me - I won't tell Allen or anybody else."

"I know that."

"Good - so we understand we each other," she smiled brightly at me. "Tell me about your family."

"There's not much to tell," I shrugged nonchalantly, but the pride I had in my siblings showed through. "I have an older sister, Maremanna, who's 26 and the personal maid to Princess Eires. Then there's my younger brother, Konik - he's 20 - who's the King's Head Stable Master."

"What about your father?"

"He…he died a month ago," I hung my head. "Before I was able to come home and apologize to him. We didn't part on…on the very best of terms."

We sat there and talked for several more minutes - Konik particularly intrigued Serena. I smiled when I thought of what an interesting couple the two of them would certainly make; not that Konik or she would ever meet, of course. But still, it was fun to hypothesize.

Serena left shortly afterwards, leaving me to my thoughts. I wished her good night and hoped for her sake that she'd be able to finally go to sleep in her new surroundings. Anything new or unusual always prompted horrible nightmares for her - dreams and memories of her former life as Dilandau, the pride of the Zaibach killing machine, a.k.a. "military."

I wish you well, Serena, I thought as I drifted off to a light slumber myself. Always be your own woman…