Disclaimer: The wonderful anime "Vision of Escaflowne" and all of its cast members are created and owned by Shouji Kawamori and Sunrise, Inc. If only use names and characters in the most illegal sense possible; this is, after all, a fanfic. Please don't sue me - I have no money to give you anyway! ************* "Feuerfest" by Kotetsu Prologue: A Barbarian Princess at Sir Allen's Tea ************* Hmmm, well, I suppose that I’m the one most qualified to tell this story, seeing as how I was the least involved in any of the following events. Unfortunately, my version of the tale is a re-hash or second-hand accounts of second-hand accounts; this is based on what Serena could tell me, what Orinda could tell me, and what the Dragonslayers had told Orinda. Oh, forgive my horrible manners. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Allen Crusade Schezar VIII, Heavenly Knight of Astoria, handsome, debonair, good with a sword, and the father of at least one illegitimate child (who happens to be the King of Freid at this moment.) I also own a flying ship and a cool-looking owl. I’m currently in the process of winning over the heart of Princess Millerna of Astoria, but I keep running into these darned obstacles . . . like my own thick skull, for instance. I was re-united with my long-lost sister Serena about a year ago. She and I have taken up residence in our old family home, just inside the border of the Astoria kingdom. I suppose that I should start from the beginning. And by beginning, I mean middle. See? I’m horrible at this sort of thing. Big mecha and beautiful women, those are my areas of expertise. But, duty is duty, and since I’ve been chosen to relate this tale, I might was well get on with it. It was a little over one year after the war with Zaibach had ended that the stranger came to Astoria. I remember that it was midmorning, because I had just finished my daily hair-brushing session (one hour, no more, no less) and had just settled down to breakfast with Serena. We were chatting about . . . gardening? Yes, I think it was gardening. No, it was more like, she was talking about gardening, and I was listening and looking handsome. Serena started a garden that wraps around the entire house, and had devoted a lot of her time and effort to maintaining it. It’s quite beautiful, really. And it serves another purpose as well. The garden keeps Serena’s mind off . . . things. So we were eating breakfast and talking about gardening, when there came a knock at the door. Our servant, Danforth, immediately attended to the door while Serena cocked her head quizzically and asked me in the sweetest, most innocent tone of voice, “Who could that be this early in the morning?” “Princess Millerna, or some other beautiful woman come to visit me,” I answered confidently as I rose out of my chair and smoothed back my hair. Sure enough, I could hear a woman’s voice echoing down the entrance hallway. It wasn’t Millerna (brief disappointment flashed through me), but at least it was female. *STOMP* *STOMP* *STOMP* Footsteps fast approached us. “Madam, please, this is very rude of you to intrude--” Danforth’s pleading voice followed the clumping footfalls down the hall. Serena blinked at the entrance to the dining room, but remained in her seat, lips pursed curiously. I, for my part, stood there confused, my desire to greet the lady visitor diminishing with every stomping footstep. And then, the visitor revealed herself in the arched entrance to our dining room. She stood, panting angrily, hands on her hips, chin cocked defiantly upwards. She was a barbarian, I could see that clearly. But a pretty barbarian. Wiry auburn hair fell around her round, hearty face, framing her flashing sapphire eyes and prominent nose. Her build was lean and muscular, but not without a bit of soft fullness at the chest and hips. She wore a garment of animal skins and thick furs, and large boots protected her feet from cold and wet. Did I mention that it was the middle of summer? I had no idea why she was wearing furs in the middle of summer. I could see that she was armed with a rather large axe strapped to her back. Confronted suddenly with an angry and armed stranger, I did my best to maintain my cool demeanor and debonair charm. “Can I help you?” my voice squeaked. I sincerely hoped that she hadn’t come to kill me. Her eyes flickered once over me, quickly. “Are you Allen Schezar?” “Yes, that’s me.” I was very proud of the fact that I didn’t squeak that time. She dismissed my presence with a flicker of her eyelid. Her eyes slid to my sister, sitting calmly and nibbling at a biscuit. “Serena Schezar?” My sister smiled, and waved her hand a little. “Good morning. Have a seat, why don’t you? Have some tea.” “Why, thank you for offering.” Without losing any of her aura of anger and alarm, the stranger strode past me, sat down in MY seat, and began gulping tea from MY teacup. “Thanks again. It’s been a long trek. My throat was killing me,” she said, still managing to sound angry. Serena, calm as ever, smiled. “How far have you traveled to get here?” I stood there with my jaw working, but no sound could come out. It was too surreal. The stranger began to visibly relax, relishing the taste of the warm tea. “I’ve come from the Freid border.” “Oh, my! You came all this way on foot? You poor thing, you must be exhausted.” “No, I’m used to it. I’ve walked all my life. I’ve never had a horse, never had a ’melef, never had a boat.” Her voice was low and melodious, but rough with the accent of those from the rural regions surrounding Freid. I cleared my throat. “Ahem.” Serena turned to look at me, startled, as if remembering for the first time that I was there. “Oh, Allen! Would you get our guest something to soak her feet in? She must have many blisters.” THAT was when my jaw actually hit the floor. I took a moment to collect myself, then turned to the butler, who had been hovering near the entrance to the dining room during the entire spectacle. “Danforth!” I snapped. “A bowl of hot water! Now! And don’t use any from the good porcelain set” Danforth scurried off. I turned back toward the breakfast table, where the barbarian was thanking Serena for her thoughtfulness. Serena smiled, again, perhaps charmed by the stranger’s quaint accent. Couldn’t she tell by the tenseness in the stranger’s muscles and the flickering of her eyes, that she was ready to kill both of us in an instant? No, my sister was oblivious to all of this. “Dear, would you mind telling me your name?” Serena inquired politely. “Ah! I forgot. Pardon my manners,” the stranger visibly fumbled with her cup of tea, actually ashamed of her rudeness. “I’m not used to being around the upper class . . . My name is Orinda. Orinda Muirne de Eowyn.” “Orinda,” Serena rolled the name around her tongue, tasting it, pondering it. For the first time that morning, her brow furrowed. “That name sounds familiar. Have we met?” The stranger’s eyes finally softened, and her body relaxed in her seat. She shook her head, and I detected something infinitely sad in the gesture. “No. *You* and I have never met. In a sense.” I’ll give credit where it’s due - Serena is an extremely intelligent girl, and she reached the appropriate conclusion at the same moment that I did. Orinda Muirne de Eowyn was one of *his* acquaintances. “Oh dear,” sighed Serena as she set down her teacup, momentarily losing her gaze in the swirls and eddies of her tea. Then her gaze rose to meet Orinda’s fiery eyes. “Why have you come here?” There was no warmth, no welcome in Serena’s voice. “Because I need to tell you my story!” Realizing that we had figured out her origins, Orinda’s voice became angry and defiant once more. “Because my story *needs* to be told. And you - Serena Schezar - you of all people should hear it!” Serena cocked an eyebrow. “Why me?” “Because . . .” Orinda hesitated, searching for the right words. “Because I don’t know or understand what you’ve been going through this past year, but I think that if you hear my story, it’ll help. It’ll help you understand everything.” The expression on Serena’s face was flat and unreadable. She regarded the other woman with veiled eyes, and a long moment of silence stretched between the two. Finally, Serena turned to face me. I, Allen Schezar the Handsome and Magnificent, who had been standing in the middle of the room like an idiot the whole time. I could read the question in her eyes instantly. It’s a brother-sister thing. And I nodded. Serena turned back toward the barbarian woman, and smiled again, but without as much warmth as before. “Enlighten us.” “Hmm, yes.” Orinda settled back in her chair and began to talk. The butler never did come back with his bowl of hot water. As for me, I sat myself down in a decorative chair that had been gathering dust in the corner of the dinning room, rested my chin on my hands, and listened. I listened for hours, as did Serena. And now, as the only uninvolved witness to that oral re-telling of a rather interesting chapter in the life of my sister, it is my duty to pass on the information to you. This, to the best of my knowledge and memory, is the tale of Orinda Muirne de Eowyn.