A/N: While cleaning up old files on my computer, I came across this chapter that I had forgotten existed. It's not complete (Celena was supposed to ask Dilandau to go down to one of the canals and drown Van at the end... or something to that effect) but I figured I'd post it anyway. This was the chapter that spawned "Blessing of a God". I still don't know what to do about this fic: whether to revamp it (again) or just give up on it. Like I said on my profile, since there were so many people reading this fic at one point, I'm willing to put it up for adoption just to save it. So I'm taking this opportunity to ask: any takers?

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VII. Allies

Celena leaned against the wall and cursed herself for being stupid enough to have been gone with Dilandau for so long and not even once thinking of what consequences it would generate. Especially since the very thing that had gotten her in the streets of Pallas and in harm's way in the first place was her not wanting Allen to be left alone with Van and come up with any ideas about her life behind her back. And without quite knowing how things had gotten so out of control, she had managed to do the exact opposite and give both of them time to spare.

She had never felt as miserable as now, studying her hands and wishing that they had the power to erase what had already happened. Even though this would not be the first time she had to face Allen's constant "planning", she had a feeling she had used up the last ounce of luck Jeture had set aside for her with the Edissis.

A series of loud thuds, the sounds of someone's boots against the marble floor as they ran, broke through Celena's lethargy and brought both ladies' heads up to look for the source. The steps immediately slowed down, never stopping, and Celena had to keep her face in check so as to not gawk and give her away to the Princess.

Coming towards them with his head low, in a white and gold-trimmed version of the servants' finest garb, was none other than Dilandau. Celena watched in silence as he moved past between the Princess and her without so much as a glance either way, and disappeared through the doors.

"I've never seen him around..." Celena heard Millerna comment. "Must be one of the new servants. Did you see what I was telling you yesterday? He didn't even pause to bow to me."

Celena just unfroze her stance and followed Millerna through the entrance to the dinning hall, blindly assenting to what her friend was saying. She was relieved that Dilandau had not made it obvious to Millerna that they knew each other, for all the explaining that that would entail, however at the same time it was very odd to see him dressed like that. She thought he worked at the stables.

The realisation that with every minute that went by, her thoughts were becoming more and more jumbled with each new bit of information that was thrown in, hit her full-force again. It was something like having a tower ready to tip over inside her head.

Under normal circumstances, she would know how things were supposed to be, right?

Not caring for whatever topic the Princess had last been on, Celena plunged into the ocean swarming her head, determined to make heads and tails of it, and asked her friend: "So let me see if I have it all down, Millerna. While I was away, my brother dearest plotted against me..."

"I wouldn't call it that", Millerna weakly interjected.

"... and became a good friend of dragon-boy." The Princess made a face at the nickname, but made no move to correct her. "This started yesterday."

The two girls sidestepped a servant carrying a shaky tray of spiffy drinks none of them had ever tried and moved the rest of their conversation to a more secluded corner of the hall. Or rather, Celena did, since Millerna was only following her as she tried to catch a glimpse of either Allen or Van over the heads of the present crowd.

"And for today, they have a big reconciliation planned. I apologise to the Prince for running off when we met, he apologises for staring in the first place, we both stare awkwardly at each other, and then finally Allen throws in the suggestion that we should get married. Is that it?"

"Oh, no!" The shortest blonde sharply turned her head around to face her friend, apparently deciding that giving a proper answer, eye-to-eye contact therefore included, was more important than searching for Allen's distinguishing gold hair and blue uniform. "Allen said he just wants you to get to know Prince Van."

"Millerna, I know my brother. Do not tell me you really believe that the thought of marriage never crossed his mind. I know Allen is perfection to you, but you must see what he is trying to do."

"Of course I do. That's why I made him promise earlier today that he would not push you into anything you didn't want."

"You did that?" Celena asked, truly surprised that her friend had been there for her in her absence. She was even surprised she had thought to do such a thing. "What did he say?"

"He said that you should at least give Van a chance, which is something you haven't done so far, according to him", Millerna told her, turning her eyes back to scanning the crowd.

"Is that why I have to be his company for this dinner?"

"Yes. Though I guess he mostly wants to introduce you to each other tonight. I imagine that the really hard part for you will come tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? You did not mention anything about me having to see him after this if I do not want to. What have you not told me?" Would surprises never cease? Celena thought she was getting tired of all the catching-up.

"Well... remember how I said daddy was hosting a tournament for the Fanelians?" Millerna said, biting her lip and looking apologetic.

"He did not..." Celena instantly denied, with already a good idea of what was to come formed in her mind.

"I'm afraid he did. You'll have to make Van the Arkait Vows tomorrow."

"That was Allen's suggestion, wasn't it?" The Schezar was going very near the edge of bristling; only her intensive training to be a polite lady held her back. Millerna on the other hand, was nodding before the question was made, obviously sorry for her friend. "Oh, when I see him, I'll..."

"There you are!" Allen himself showed up next to the two. His sister would have immediately launched herself on an argument, if only they were not in such public settings and he had not continued leading them to another part of the room. "Come, they are already gathering for dinner at the table and Van is waiting to take you, Celena."

"Allen, I do not..."

"Hush. Later, Celena!" The youngest Schezar did indeed quiet her mouth, but that did not mean that she was particularly happy to do what was expected of her. "Just talk with him, you'll see he's not so bad."

Entering an adjoining room, the very same where the first dinner with the Fanelians had been held, the sounds of cheery conversation and pleasant-smelling dishes filled Celena's senses. She willed herself to feel accordingly, but putting on her usual mask was proving to be exceptionally difficult this time. Regarding the already seated people, she supposed some sort of déjà vu was in order, but this time was hardly the same as the first.

The Fanelians had left their side of the table and were now dispersed throughout, according to whatever acquaintances they had made. That was the obvious difference. The other was that prince Van had not yet taken his seat, and had instead been waiting for her to enter to escort her to a seat next to his.

She smiled at his offered hand and followed his lead, but inside she sighed while promising herself that whatever impending vows were upon her, she would try to not let them cloud her impression and attitude to whatever happened tonight.

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Right elbow on the wooden table and head supported by his right hand, Dilandau watched the Asturian chefs give the meal some last touches, waiting for the dishes he would have to carry to the adjoining room. His collar was making his neck itch, but he let that insignificant trouble slide off him as he observed, bored beyond his wits.

Men and women worked together in strange synchrony, performing an endless succession of movements, economical and concise. Peel, turn, chop, mix, and one plate was done. Cut, drop, brew, pour, and one more was finished. He had to admit there was a certain art to it, though it was one he considered not just petty, but utterly useless.

He still wasn't over the terrible luck of his that had landed him in this white-and-gold suit and sitting at this table. About an hour earlier, when he had just been entering the corridor that led to his quarters, he had stumbled upon none other than his boss and the assistant. Some yelling had ensued, about him skipping his duties for two days on a row and him being lucky that someone had fallen ill and he was needed, but Dilandau would have preferred that they had thrown him out so he could go to Freid. So, here he was, in a jacket that was too tight for him, covering for someone whom he did not know – and bored beyond his wits.

Knowing that Celena was on the other side of the door and that he would be serving her meal was not all that exciting a thing either. In fact, he rathered not seeing her again, as he found it impossible to act as he normally would when she was around. It made him do stupid things like saving her life and think stupid things like how nice she was. If he wasn't careful, the next thing he might think was that they could be friends.

One of the chefs slapped a large crystal tureen filled to the brim with something green on the table in front of Dilandau, effectively ending his boredom, and pointed imperiously towards the door, where other two men that would be serving at the Royal table were standing with their own loads and waiting for him to join. A vague thought of "why are they waiting if only one can go through the door at a time" crossed the red-eyed's mind, before he complied with the bossy chef's orders.

He entered the room at the end of the three-man file and watched as those in front of him successively took up positions, leaving him in charge of the farthest end of the table, where the King of Asturia was seated, and – joy of joys – Celena Schezar.

Dilandau set down the tureen with a fair amount of disgust in the process. He had to keep reminding himself what unfortunate turn of events had led him to do such an idiotic job, and on the other hand, what wonderful paths lay ahead of him once the night was over and done with. Namely, the one to Freid. He was thankful that, at least, Celena did not seem to have noticed that for moments he had been standing just next to her.

He stepped back into the shadows to watch the fat King stuff the awful-smelling green things, and tried to listen in the conversations at the table to pass the time. Some were so ridiculous that he had to switch to another lest he start laughing out loud or possibly gag, and in the end, after much reluctance, he settled for whatever it was that Celena was saying.

"Escaflowne? So he is the Fanelian God?"

"Yes, also known as the White Dragon. He is the God of War", a shorthaired brunet that sat to the immediate left of the Schezar noblewoman replied.

"Of War? What good can possibly come from having a God that encourages war?" Interesting topic for dinner. He wondered who this man was.

"Ah, people are usually led to believe that, because 'God of War' is such a general term. It's true that all the legends about Escaflowne include bloody wars and conflicts, but at Fanelia we say that only through war can one improve and surpass oneself." How very well put, Dilandau acidly thought.

"You mean to tell me that killing others makes you a better person?" Celena had dropped her fork and was staring open-mouthed at the young man. Dilandau wondered who the Fanelian idiot was.

"No, of course not", the brunet exclaimed. "Try not to imagine a battlefield and armies with swords, and think instead of an argument between two people. Let's say they have different opinions on something; you could call that a conflict, a small-scale war, right?"

"I suppose", Celena dubiously confirmed. "But I still don't see how that could be a good thing."

"Well, let me finish, then. By discussing it, our two people are looking at the problem from all different perspectives, or at least more than they would have used had they been each on their own. They are learning from each other, and by the end of the argument, they will both be in a better position to state their views on the subject. Do you see now?"

"I think I do", Celena said, although doubt never left her eyes. "They may come to realise that they weren't as righteous or correct as they thought they were at the beginning. But that was only an argument. What about real wars? The sword and army type?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Dilandau saw that his two companions were going to remove the plates from their portions of the table and get the following dish. Turning his attention back to the other people at his end, he realised that he had missed that the King and everyone else had already finished eating their greens. He walked into the light to do the same as the other servants.

"Well, of course that kind of war is never a good thing", the Fanelian genius was saying as Dilandau rounded the end of the table to collect all the plates. "But Escaflowne teaches how to face war when it is inevitable: with honour and a clear head." Tureen on top of the stack and out the service door before the brunet could say anything else.

Dilandau was thinking along the lines that he would rather tread the Draconian-infested Hells than do this sort of job ever again.