17. If I Could Speak

Slaine was looking at her.

It was the first thing she saw when she woke up - his eyes, peering directly at hers. He seemed entranced. Slowly, he blinked, and with effort he wrenched his gaze away and turned his head to the ceiling.

"I hate myself," he said.

As she watched him breathe in and out, his chest rising and falling to the rhythm of an invisible clock only he seemed to hear, memories of last night trickled through her mind. He had touched her in a way he had never done before and may never would again. It had been sweet, but also painful. Right now, however, she could not feel any pain at all, not even between her legs.

It was only when she opened her mouth that she realised she could not speak. She had no desire to, for she had poured out everything last night. Today, any words she uttered would seem hollow and fake, like badly acted lines from a play.

"I did something terrible to you," she heard Slaine say, as if from far away.

She wanted to ask what? She could not remember him doing anything wrong. She loved him. She had told him so, and he had said the same thing in return.

But then she saw Slaine sit up in the bed and cover his face with his hands and an unsettling shiver passed through her. It was then that she remembered that today, she was Lemrina.

"I knew it was all a lie," he muttered. "But still, I did it anyway."

Finally, she croaked out an answer. "Slaine, it wasn't your fault." As she expected, her voice sounded too loud for this quiet room.

"No, it was. You're not Princess Asseylum. All I've ever done is hurt you."

His voice was thick with self-loathing. Somehow, Lemrina knew that she was seeing the real Slaine, that all of this was the true evidence of his scars. She knew that this was what it meant to reach him.

"You're wrong," she said quietly. "I did it because I wanted to."

He removed his hands from his face and looked at her. His eyes were haggard. "Why?" he asked.

"Because I love you."

His expression split with guilt. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…"

Somehow, he seemed more torn and anguished about all of this than she was. To Lemrina, it did not matter whether he loved her or not. She had known the truth all along. All that she had ever wanted was for him to be honest with her.

And so she smiled at his answer.

"It's okay, Slaine," she whispered, reaching over and touching him on the arm. "I already know."

"I didn't want to hurt you."

"I know."

"It's just… I can't. I wish I could, but I can't."

"I know."

"I'm sorry," he said once again.

It occurred to her that even if he could not call it love, neither of them could doubt that his feelings for her were genuine.

Just like last night, she put her arms around him and he did not push her away. Perhaps he believed in her kindness, just as she believed in his.

They remained like that for a while, clinging to each other like two wounded animals. Slaine seemed to know as well as she did that it was a lie they both sought for comfort, but somehow, it wasn't wrong, even if it was a lie. He knew the truth all too well, because at length he began to speak, and for a very long while, all he talked about was Asseylum.

She saved his life, not just once, but twice, thrice, countless times - she saved him every time they met. When he was friendless, she played with him. When he was fatherless, she comforted him. When he was useless, she made him her teacher. When he was visionless, she became his light.

Slaine's narrative was rambling and disjointed, and the parts of his story that he lingered on were always about his worthlessness. Sometimes, as he talked about the good-hearted person Asseylum had always been, he would fall into a long pause, and an expression of wretched loneliness would come over his face. She was his friend, his precious friend. Even if she did not love him, he fell in love with her kindness. Her kindness was what made him believe in the existence of love.

The more Slaine talked about her, the more Lemrina got the impression that, in a way, it was never really about Asseylum to begin with. Lemrina was not him, would never be him, but she understood this narrative progression. As Slaine went on and on, unable to stop himself from talking about his feelings of inadequacy, Lemrina realised that this might be the first time he had ever poured his heart out to anyone.

She was a far kinder person than I could ever be…

I was never worthy of her…

I only wanted to be useful to her…

Slaine was halfway through recounting how Asseylum had always asked him to teach her about birds from Earth when suddenly he switched gears and started talking about the first person he ever killed. Baron Trillram was a petty bully and a cruel master and even though Slaine was horrified at himself and at the war and he wanted it all to stop, he could not stop squeezing the trigger once he started. He only stopped shooting when he ran out of bullets. Slaine admitted that a part of him had felt good about murdering Baron Trillram, that he felt he was exacting justice through the act. That feeling did not last, not even for seconds. As he was attempting to throw the baron's corpse into the water, he was overcome with nausea and retched all over the ground.

He said that he did it all for Asseylum.

Then he was talking about his childhood on Earth, long before he met the princess. He travelled the world but had no home. At the various schools he attended, he became scared of making friends, because saying goodbye always tore his heart to pieces. He retreated into his shell and read books and studied hard for subjects he never really cared for.

He talked about his father, who had always been such a busy man. Slaine was never able to say goodbye to him either. In a way, the latter years of his father's life had been a long, drawn-out farewell that neither of them ever verbalised. By then, he was so absorbed in his research that he became a stranger. When was the last time they ever had a heartfelt conversation? Now Slaine would never be able to know what his father was thinking.

Suddenly, he switched the topic to Count Saazbaum, his foster father. When Count Saazbaum had said he would become Slaine's father, a part of Slaine had felt… happy. For Count Saazbaum had always explained himself to Slaine. He had always been so honest and forthright in a way that Slaine's real father had never been. But it was all so wrong and twisted, too, because this was the same man who had killed Princess Asseylum and Slaine would never forgive him, so he would kill him with his own hands and he would-

At this point, Lemrina interrupted the story.

"So you were planning to kill him."

"That's right," Slaine admitted heavily. "I'm not as good a person as you think I am."

"You won't kill him," Lemrina said. "You are a good person."

"How do you know that?" His voice was strained. "I've already done so many terrible things…"

"Because you want to be a good person."

He was silent for a moment. "That's not enough," he said. He spoke with full awareness that the best intentions could translate into the worst results, and that this was never an excuse for evil.

"You're right," said Lemrina. "It's not enough. That's why you can't act alone."

"What do you mean?"

"All this time, you've been alone. I can tell. How can you know if your actions will ever lead to good if no one can tell you how it will affect them? If it's just you against the world, how will you ever find the peace you desire?"

He breathed sharply, as if her words had hit him like a slap in the face.

"I…" He struggled. "I…"

"Slaine, listen to me. Your choices are never as limited as they seem."

"How can you say that? What makes you believe?"

Now it was Lemrina's turn to talk about herself.

She told him about how it felt growing up without the use of her legs, knowing that she was nothing but a tool. She told him how she came to resent everyone, including her own sister. She told him how she had wanted to use him in order to avoid the fate that had been forced upon her since the day she was born.

She told him how it felt when all her plans backfired, how it felt to be captured and manhandled by the enemy. She told him how it felt to lose all hope.

Mostly, however, she told him about the choice she made on that island and how Kaizuka Yuki had responded to it. When confronted with the prospect of being held permanently captive, she said no and pointed a gun at her own head. In a situation where she had no choice, she created one, even if she ultimately failed to liberate herself.

And instead of breaking her promise out of necessity, Kaizuka Yuki chose to uphold it. In doing so, she saved Lemrina's life at the cost of her own. That simple kindness, born out of an unimaginable sacrifice, was enough to inspire Lemrina to believe in what human beings were truly capable of. Even in a world at war where every living person was chained to the ground, doomed never to spread their wings and fly, a person had the ability to choose between right and wrong.

"I know that you're capable of it too, Slaine. I believe in you."

He was silent. For a moment, she thought he would not respond at all.

"How can I believe when Princess Asseylum is dead?"

There it was. The most important question. The question neither of them had dared to ask aloud for fear of what the answer might be.

How could Lemrina believe in the same peace Asseylum had yearned for, when Asseylum had died attempting to reach it?

How could Lemrina believe in the inherent goodness of humans, when Asseylum had been killed by a human?

How could Lemrina tell Slaine not to kill Count Saazbaum, when Saazbaum's continued existence was preventing the peace Asseylum had tried so hard to cultivate?

In the end, Asseylum's ideals were naïve and full of contradictions.

But even so…

"She was not wrong. She was never wrong. If you believe that she was wrong, then she truly will be gone."

It was the best answer Lemrina could come up with. As she spoke the words, however, she realised that she believed in them and that, even more importantly, they were the words that Slaine most desperately needed to hear.

Lemrina understood now that he had always been in love with the idea of Asseylum. When she was gone, he was lost. It was impossible for him to conceive that someone else could embody her ideals. Last night, Lemrina had changed that. Even if her appearance had been nothing but an illusion, to Slaine she was real - no, more than real. She was a lie that had become truth. He could no longer deny to himself or to her how important Asseylum still was to him or how desperately he wanted to believe in her.

"I wonder…" He spoke up finally. "I wonder if things really will be okay. I gave up the ability to see the future."

He was talking about the Aldnoah drive inside the Tharsis.

"I don't know either," Lemrina admitted. "But I feel better thinking of it this way."

He looked at her, hesitant and uncertain. Their faces were so close they were almost touching. Her arms were still around him, refusing to budge.

"I told you before," she insisted. "I want you to be happy. I'll tell you that I love you every single day if that's what it takes for you to love yourself."

"You know," he said slowly. "You're so different from her, but in one respect you're the same."

She blinked. "In what way?"

"You're so stubborn," he said, and laughed.

It was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard from him. He laughed and laughed and then he cried and neither of them knew the difference. He cried because his heart was broken, because things would never be the same again. He cried for the girl he loved and the storm that had passed. He cried because he was no longer alone.

And he laughed for the same reasons.

"It didn't hurt too much, did it?"

Lemrina looked up at Slaine's words. For a while, they had been resting against each other in silence. Lemrina had been thinking to herself that, in a sense, a miracle had happened. Even though she was not Asseylum, her words had managed to reach Slaine. It really was nothing short of a miracle.

"What are you talking about?" she asked him.

"Well, you know…" He turned an awkward gaze to the sheets. "Last night."

Lemrina looked down as well. For the first time, she noticed the droplet-sized stains on the pure white sheets.

"Oh," she said.

"I'm sorry," Slaine said, not for the first time. "It hurt, didn't it?"

Lemrina tried to remember.

"I'd be lying if I said it didn't hurt," she said finally. She did not want to mention that part of the reason it had hurt so much was because none of his passion had been directed at her. "But at the same time, I wanted to do it."

"How much did it hurt?" He would not stop being apologetic about this.

"Do you want me to put it in decimal terms?"

"Er…"

"And what's all this focus on me? How much did it hurt for you?"

He laughed awkwardly. "It didn't really hurt at all, to be honest…"

"This is what I hate about human biology," Lemrina sniffed. Then she said, "You enjoyed it, didn't you?"

Now Slaine was really flustered. "Er, um, well, that is…" He scratched the back of his head. "A little bit…"

He had obviously enjoyed it more than just a little bit. Lemrina still remembered the look of pure bliss on his face after he had finished his climax. He had fallen asleep straight away after that with that look still on his face.

Lemrina considered teasing him, but decided better of it. He was clearly still hung up about what he had done. Perhaps he felt extra guilty because the experience had been so pleasurable for him but so painful for Lemrina.

Lemrina, however, did not mind. It would have been selfish of her to expect him to fall madly in love with her after everything that had happened. She twisted her mouth into a smile. "I can always transform into my sister again, if that's what you like."

"Don't do that!"

She was taken aback by how sharply he spoke. Evidently, his intensity surprised even himself, for he quickly dropped his gaze.

"I knew it was you… so…" He shook his head. "Anyway, don't do that. It's too messed up."

She stared at him in utter non-comprehension. "I thought that the only way you would want to do it with me was if I was her…"

All her life, she had compared herself to Asseylum and found herself lacking. The first time Slaine had ever embraced her, he had thought she was Asseylum. That was months ago. It was the first time she had ever felt like a woman.

"Do you really have such a small opinion of yourself?" Slaine asked with a sigh.

"Huh?"

It had simply never occurred to Lemrina that Slaine could ever fall in love with her. She had lost that battle before it had even started. Last night had only confirmed that in her eyes.

"I'm saying you didn't have to go to such an extreme," he explained. "That's why I'm sorry. I didn't know you felt that way."

"Why wouldn't I feel that way? You never tried to touch me at all…"

His face contorted with shame. "I didn't want to hurt you."

She had no idea what he meant, so she just looked at him, puzzled and vaguely upset, waiting for him to continue.

"I mean, sharing a bed with you was awkward for me as well. I'd never been so close to a girl before. I could hardly get any sleep. The whole time I thought it was improper to touch you."

"You wanted to do it with me…?"

"I don't know. I just felt bad about the whole marriage. Like you were forced into it. I didn't want to make things more difficult for you."

"What do you mean 'I don't know'?"

He blushed.

"Well, um, sometimes when I was lying in bed next to you, my body would sort of just… react. I mean, that sort of thing happens when I'm alone, too, but it's not as awkward. So I'd get up early in the mornings and… well… take care of it…"

Lemrina remembered her own lewd fantasies and how she had needed to use her fingers to relieve the tension. To think Slaine had been going through something similar. What a funny marriage theirs was.

"But I wouldn't have done anything," Slaine went on hastily, "if you hadn't acted first."

Looking back, it all made sense: the polite distance he kept, the fact that he always seemed to be awake before her, his gentle way of handling her. He had refused to kiss her in order to get his Aldnoah privileges back because he had not wanted to take advantage of her confusion and vulnerability.

We shouldn't, he had said, after they had kissed last night. He had known that making love to her while she was Asseylum was too cruel, but she had insisted on it anyway. He would probably never forgive himself for going along with it. If he had really been blinded by love for Asseylum, he would probably not have been so torn about it.

"Then…" Lemrina swallowed. She thought she could bear the pain of an unrequited love, but now that she realised that their relationship was more complicated than that, the pain was so much stronger. Her actions had hurt him deeply last night, she knew. "What about my sister?"

He sighed again. "I always admired her, but our relationship was never like that. But I don't know," he said. His voice sounded strained. "I guess deep down I always did see her as a woman. It's complicated."

"It's complicated, all right," said Lemrina, trying to sound dry but only sounding miserable instead.

Slaine shifted uncomfortably. "But you know, Lemrina. I don't think Princess Asseylum would have done what you did for me."

"What do you mean?" Wasn't she a saint?

"She loved the world and everyone in it. She was always so excited about Earth that we never really talked about much else. I don't think I was ever that special to her, at least no more than anyone else."

"Aren't you just underestimating yourself?"

"No, it's true. Princess Asseylum was that kind of person." He did not sound as if he disliked that about her. "But you're different, Lemrina," he went on. "You've seen things she hasn't."

As he spoke, he gazed straight at her eyes and smiled.

She remembered what he said about her having pretty eyes. Lemrina thought she understood that description better now through looking - really looking - at his eyes in return.

Even when you smile, they somehow seem sad. It's hard to look away.

A shiver went down Lemrina's spine. After everything they had done together, this somehow seemed like their most intimate act of all.

"Thank you," he said finally, "for understanding."

They talked for a little while longer after that, about their plans and what they would do when they returned to the moon. They talked about the war and what needed to be done to solve the root causes. They talked about Count Saazbaum. They talked about justice. They talked about peace and how best to achieve it.

Eventually, the two of them decided on a course of action, which was just as well because within a few hours they would be heading back to the base.

It was strange. Lemrina had spent the whole week dreading the end of their honeymoon, but now that they had reached the finish line, she was no longer scared of what the future held.

She wondered what Asseylum would think of them. Was she flying now with the birds she had always longed to see with her own two eyes? Wherever she was, was she smiling at those left behind? Or would she have regretted the pain her memory had caused? Would she have still believed in her own ideals if she had known about everything that had come to pass?

Lemrina did not know. She would never know the answer, but somehow it was all right. Things would be all right. They had suffered and caused others to suffer in turn; they had loved and they had lost. No matter what they did, the scars would remain, hidden within plain sight. Even so, things would be all right because they would not stay silent any longer.

Today, they would talk and understand, even if it caused them pain, even if their words failed to make everything right, for together they walked on that same road to peace.

END PART FOUR

Author's note: The personal is political.

The story of Lemrina and Slaine filled me with a rush of complicated emotions as I was writing it. I hope I managed to convey some of that through my words. Although their relationship has reached closure as far as this particular story is concerned, the process of negotiation is a main theme of the story. Part Five will hopefully tie up the remaining subplots.

The title of this chapter "If I Could Speak" comes from Prime Minister Inukai Tsuyoshi's last words before he was assassinated in 1932 by warmongering Japanese naval officers: "If I could speak, you would understand" (Hanaseba wakaru). I feel that these are words that Princess Asseylum might say.