Okay, here it is. Something I thought would never happen. But I wrote Escaflowne slash fanfic, and I'm reasonably happy with it. slightlyjillian calls it "bashful slash". Oh, and I don't think there are any spoilers in here, if you've seen, like, two episodes. ^_^ This takes place just after Episode 14, in case you're that interested.



A Thousand Ships


“Not ship, Van,” she said patiently. Perhaps he’d been injured worse than they’d thought. Perhaps his mind had been affected. “Ships. Plural.”

He stared at her. “You…you mean he sold his fleet for me?”

She thought about that for a moment. “For Escaflowne,” she said judiciously. “And for you.”

“But…but why?”

Hitomi couldn’t answer that.

~~~

He was glad the princeling hadn’t asked him why he’d sold the fleet. Sure, it was just money, and he could always make more. But how did you explain that to a kid who’d seen his family and country ripped apart? How did you make him understand that sometimes money was worth more than honour?

Nah, there was no telling that to someone like Van.

But man, would Dryden like to try.

~~~

She’d been watching him from the corners of her eyes ever since he showed up. Showed up and sold his fleet to save the life of the boy she couldn’t save. Granted, she was just a student still, as far as medicine was concerned, but she’d done everything right, and Van wouldn’t wake. Not until Dryden showed up.

It reminded her of a story from the Mystic Moon. She’d heard Hitomi telling Merle what she called fairy tales. She supposed Hitomi told the tales in the hopes that Van would hear, and that she told the tales as much to comfort the two older girls as it was to comfort Merle. But the story she remembered involved an angry witch, and a curse, and a sleeping princess. A sleeping princess who only awoke when the love of her heart arrived.

And it made Millerna think.

~~~

What sort of man would do this? Show up in a fanfare, impress everyone with his riches, and then throw them away, flaunting his ability to fix what none of the rest of them could do. He’d made them all look bad. Hitomi, for not having predicted this; Gaddes, for not being able to fix Escaflowne; him, for not having the money it would take to pay Ispano. Worst of all was the way Millerna was watching this merchant prince--with lowered lashes, speculation in her limpid blue eyes. Or was the worst of it the admiration Hitomi had for the man who had saved Van’s life?

He came back to guard position and tried to summon the calm necessary to go through the sword forms. But it was no use. His concentration was gone. Broken--shattered--pulverized by that…that…merchant.

He relaxed his grip on his sword. Murdering Millerna’s betrothed would not solve any of their problems.

Allen smirked. Then again…

~~~

She’d seen the confusion in Van’s eyes, ever since they repaired Escaflowne. She couldn’t figure out what was causing it, not exactly. Was it because he didn’t understand what was happening between him and his guymelef? Was it because he didn’t know what to do next? Was it because of her concern for him…and did she hope it was?

Hitomi sighed. Allen was much easier to figure out. At least with him it was obvious that he was torn between Millerna’s adoration for him, and Hitomi’s. At least, that seemed to be what was causing his internal conflict. He had no vengeance quest, no personal vendetta.

But there was Prince Chid. He complicated things. He was such a nice boy, and he had such childish admiration for Allen.

She blushed. She supposed she and Chid were much alike.

But there was Van…

~~~

The kinglet stood with his hands clenched behind his back, looking for all the world like a student about to be scolded by a strict master. “I want to thank you…but I don’t know what words I should use. I don’t know how you came to do this thing for me. I don’t know why you would. I just--I just wish I knew the words…”

He considered hiding behind a smirk, because that was the Dryden Way. But it just wouldn’t answer, not for this one. With Van…Van made Dryden want to be more than just a merchant--more than he was.

“There don’t have to be any words, kinglet,” Dryden said, rubbing the back of his head and smiling ruefully. “You needed help, and I could help you. Besides,” he added with a shrug. “It’s an Ispano.”

Van stared at him for a moment, then laughed. Then he looked surprised that he had laughed. He stared at Dryden, perhaps feeling as suddenly at-sea as Dryden did himself.

“You’re so different from anyone I’ve ever known,” Van said slowly. “No one would give up so much.”

Dryden was suddenly afraid that his glib tongue would abandon him. But instead he found himself saying something that was not at all glib. “I’m a merchant,” he said, his eyes locked on Van’s. “I know worth when I see it.”

They stared at each other for a moment, then something flashed in Van’s eyes. “So you have to possess it?” he asked, sounding wary and not at all seductive in his meaning. “Is that it—you bought me?”

Again Dryden fought the impulse to smirk in self-defense; he knew Van would hate it. But his lips quirked. “If you like.” He shrugged diffidently. “No, kinglet, you belong to Fanelia, and to Escaflowne, and to yourself. There’s probably not much room there for Dryden Fassa.”

“There might be!” Van blurted, and then seemed surprised.

Perhaps it was fortunate, then, that Fate, or Fate’s Handmaiden, as it were, intervened at that moment.

“Dryden-san! Dryden-san! Oh--I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you.” Hitomi paused in the door as she saw who was with him.

“It’s alright, little one,” Dryden said, and he realized as he did it that it was patronizing, indulgent, and she should hate him for it. “You’re not interrupting. We’re very glad to see you.” And of course with those few words, he had belittled Hitomi and created a we, and made something out of this conversation that it hadn’t been before.

“She isn’t,” Van said, glancing at him. Dryden fancied--was it just his fancy?--that he heard a question in the princeling’s voice. Then Van’s face went all inscrutable, and he turned and ran away.

Hitomi stared after him. “Van…”

Dryden scratched his head. “Odd boy,” he remarked.

~~~

She saw Van run out of the library, and it piqued her curiosity. The library was not a place Van frequented. In fact, none of them frequented it, except Dryden. And that might mean…

Then Hitomi came out of the library and looked down the hallway. Before she could see Millerna, the princess ducked into a nook. Then she heard Hitomi’s footsteps pounding away from her. Millerna walked slowly towards the library door, wondering what had taken place. Had they argued again? Those two were forever at odds.

She had mixed feelings about Hitomi anyway, because the girl from the Mystic Moon obviously adored Allen--and because Allen apparently saw something in her that was lacking in Millerna. But then, Van seemed to need Hitomi somehow, and Hitomi obviously cared for Van. There was no denying that, Millerna had seen it as Van writhed in his hospital bed.

But--

“Good morning, Princess!” It was his voice, loud, brash, over-confident--her betrothed. She stopped walking.

“Ah. Good morning, Dryden-san. I hope you are well.”

He leered at her. “Very well, Princess. Especially now that I’ve feasted my eyes on your loveliness.”

“You are crude,” she said. Still, it was something, to be admired by Dryden. At least someone appreciated her.

“I am all apologies, your loveliness. Please forgive me!” He dropped to his knees, clutching his chest, and Millerna fought the impulse to giggle at him. It would only encourage him.

“Perhaps.” She made her voice innocent. “Did you know King Van came running down the hallway a moment ago? I wonder what was wrong with him.”

Ah, yes. Perhaps it was only a tinge of pink, but she had discovered that Dryden could blush.

~~~

He saw Hitomi go to Van, saw her put her hand on Van’s shoulder, saw Van shrug it angrily away. She said something, and Van frowned and turned away from her. She put out a hand, and Van ignored it. She dropped her head forward, and he could see, even if Van could not, that she would cry.

Ah, Allen thought, satisfied. Good.

~~~

Why was he like this? Why could he not accept that people cared for him? Why could he not accept that she cared for him?

She knew it wasn’t a good idea to yell at him, but she couldn’t hold her words in.

“Van, I know something’s wrong with you! You’ve been acting strangely ever since Dryden had Ispano repair Escaflowne. What is it? Are you ill? Does Escaflowne need more work? Are you angry at me?”

“Hitomi, just leave me alone!”

He wouldn’t face her. She turned and walked away.

~~~

Millerna. Just when she was least convenient. He cursed mentally but made himself as charming as possible. Just for a while. But he would find the princeling, he promised himself. He would find him, and talk to him, and then they would see…


But he didn’t get away from her unscathed. She got in her little dig before she went on her way and let him on his. Oh, she was an intriguing little minx! She certainly had a tongue on her, and she could use words as effectively as Allen Schezar used a sword…or Van Fanel used an Escaflowne.

And you, Dryden Fassa? What are you good at? Making money, is that all? Do you not understand honour? Do you not understand vengeance?

No, but I understand need.

Would he have the courage to say that to the boy-king? Would he have the courage to admit how the very honour of that boy-king, this seeming wish to have vengeance or death, had fascinated him…captivated him… Would he tell him?

And there was Hitomi, looking sad but thrilled as she stood very close to her Knight Caeli and he apparently offered her comfort. And there was Van, looking miserable and angry and resentful.

Ah, to be fifteen again.

Fifteen. So young. But he had already slain a dragon, and raised Escaflowne, and witnessed the disappearance of his family and the destruction of his kingdom. At fifteen, what had Dryden Fassa done? He had done nothing, nothing but enjoy his father’s status and money, using it to buy a ship in which he would travel the world. But he had, at least, learned something of pleasure. And that was something he had a feeling Van had little experience with.

The King of Fanelia heard him approach and spun to face him. His teeth were gritted, and the angry line of his jaw made Dryden catch his breath. Great heavens, what was happening to him? He nearly groaned with the impossible irony of it all, but Van was watching him, and he had to say something.

“Kinglet, you hurt too much.” His voice was tender, and perhaps Van misunderstood him. But perhaps not. To be sure, Dryden put out his hand, and his fingers traced the line of that exquisite jaw.

“But you don’t have to. I can’t begin to understand your hurt, and I can’t say I know how you feel. But, Van Fanel, I know how I feel. And I--“ What? The golden-mouthed Dryden at a loss for words? He paused and shook his head in bemusement. But there were other uses for mouths.

He leaned forward and kissed him.


end


In other news, I'm hungry. I think I'll make popcorn.

Also, I've been working on my second novel tonight. Go me.