Yay, more writing from my freaky mind. I hope you all like this one because I wrote it for you all. So please review and tell me what you think, if you like it, hate or want me to write more.

The Runaway Groom

The ground trembled, men quaked, and animals fled with terrified screams or so it seemed. One brave soul, or simply more foolish than the others, stepped forward holding out a strip of white cloth in supplication. The being to which they cowered showed no signs of caring for their pathetic placation.

"Where the hell is he?"

"You see miss…uh…he's…"

"Do not mess with me, do not try to divert me. I will know where he is and with who or heads will quite literally roll," the Amazonian girl yelled, she raised her crossbow in emphasis. The brave Zaibachian soldiers cringed and tried to retreat. The one elected to talk to her squeaked and stumbled backwards. A stiff wind tangled with the girl's black-copper tresses and she snarled. "Now let me in before I have to kick your asses."

There was such a scramble for the hanger doors that several soldiers found themselves trampled by their comrades. The Zaibachian soldiers had lived a relatively sheltered life, killing, following orders and such, with an occasional visit to a tavern or accommodating brothel. Of course their limited experience with women (i.e. women who needed to please them in order to get paid) they never knew that the opposite sex could be so terrifying. Unfortunately for them they were learning that quite quickly with the help of one who was rather pissed off.

The girl stomped past the cringing men, stepping carelessly on the ones unlucky enough to get trampled. Her black eyes seethed with potent anger and her grip upon the crossbow was dangerously tight.

* * * *

As the Guymelefs of Zaibach's elite soldiers landed in the hanger, a trembling soldier rushed out and waited impatiently to impart his news. Dilandau Albatou singled the man to come over upon threat of decapitation or worse.

"What is it?" he demanded.

"I have a message for one of your Dragonslayers, my lord," the man stuttered.

"For one of them?" The man nodded as sweat visibly poured down his face. "Why the hell are you so nervous? You'd think you were facing death."

"Already have, my lord, and it scared the shit outta me."

"Go give your message." The man bowed and scuttled over to Dalet. The boy looked surprised and then apprehensive.

"What is it?"

"All I can say is that you have a guest and she's demanding to see you or she'll severely impair our reproductive abilities and torch the Vione," the soldier cried.

"'She'?" The man nodded, wide eyes showing the depths of his terror. "Describe…her…"

As the stammering soldier spilled the details of the rather pugnacious guest, Dalet paled and began to sweat also. Everyone stared at him in interest; several of his peers made some rather crude jokes.

"Where is she?" he choked out after swallowing the huge lump forming in his throat.

"Your room, sir."

"Shit."

* * * * *

A Random Scene Deus Has Made Me Write. Has Nothing to Do with the Story.

Dalet saw the antelope, the antelope saw Dalet. Dalet screamed as the antelope charged. The antelope chased Dalet through the forest. Dalet left the forest and the antelope stopped chasing him.

The End.

Remember my friend made me write that!

Now back to the story:

* * * * *

The door slid open and an extremely apprehensive Dalet stepped cautiously into the room. The girl stood with her back to him, but the slight tensing of her shoulders betrayed her awareness of his presence. Wyn's lanky body had filled out a little since he had seen her, but she was still boyishly slim. He didn't have more time to study her for she began to speak.

"So did you sell the horse?"

"Horse…Oh, yes I did." She didn't bother to ask how much he had received because they both knew what he had used it for. Five years ago he had left his small town to sell a horse and ended up joining the Zaibachian army in order to avoid going back…to her.

"And it took…five goddamn years?" She whirled around and fixed him with a deadly glare. He took a step back from the raw anger and hurt seething within the depths of her black eyes. "Do you know what you did to me when you never showed at our formal engagement party? I was mortified. I waited six hours for you to show up. The guests started to leave, but I waited." Her tirade ended in an enraged shriek as she lashed him with her words.

"I…"

"We all thought you had died. Your mother, father…me. We held a goddamn funeral for you. I spent most of the past five years mourning for you and then…" She pointed an accusatory finger in his face. Her whole body shook from the degree of her rage. "I found out that you were alive. From the guy you sold the horse to no less."

* * * *

* * * *

"Where did you get this horse?" The merchant glanced up in surprise as a black-copper haired girl accosted him near the exit of the festival grounds. The placid roan whickered softly and lipped the girl's loose tunic with unnerving familiarity.

"I bought him from a youth a while back." The girl's black eyes widened and a choking hope suffused her face.

"How long ago?" she demanded eagerly. The merchant scratched his balding head and calculated the time span in his mind.

"I'd say about five years ago, give or take a few months."

"Oh…I was hopping…Never mind."

"I'm sure you could find him it you tried," the man told her hastily; the last thing he wanted on his hands was a weepy girl.

"I doubt it. He hasn't shown up for five years. He's probably…dead." She wiped distractedly at her eyes and leaned against the horse.

"Check the registry at the military office. They always keep track of casualties."

"What? The military office?" She straightened suddenly. The horse shied away from her.

"That's where he was headed all that time ago. Said he was trying to escape the monotony of village life and a certain girl he was engaged to, a real harridan apparently."

"Really? How interesting." Two spots of crimson appeared on her pale cheeks and a dark flame pulsed in her eyes.

"May I ask why you want to know this? Are you the young man's sister?"

A cold smile pulled her lips into a frightening parody of a smile. "No, I'm the harridan."

* * * *

* * * *

The girl's harsh laughter eloquently expressed the extent of her rage and sadness. Then she was silent again, but an eerie smile played about the corners of her firm mouth.

"I then went to the nearest military office like the man suggested. The officer on duty didn't want to help me find you, something about confidential information and proof of relationship, but I managed to convince him to find your records." Her smile widened and she gave his cheek an affectionate pat. Dalet wished that she had slapped him instead. "You can imagine how unbalanced I was that day after finding out that not only weren't you dead and or in the army, but that you'd become an elite soldier."

"Wyn…"

Without warning she tackled him and they both tumbled to the floor. He landed hard on his back with her on top. She was still smiling and he found her apparent sense of happiness quite unnerving considering the situation.

"Five damn years, Dalet. I threw away five years of my life over you," she informed him with a short laugh, as if it were all one big joke. He didn't find it the situation funny in the least.

Without warning she buried her head against his shoulder and started to sob. He could feel the tremors shaking her lanky body and hear her muffled sobs. He lay there and wondered how he was supposed to comfort a crying female. Awkwardly he tried to pat her shoulder, but his armor got in the way so he stayed still. Perhaps she'd cry herself out soon.

"Wyn…stop it," he whispered when it seemed that the deluge of grief wasn't close to stopping.

"You're a bastard, Dalet." He felt his mouth stretching in a small smile at her sobbed insult. Even in the throe of a hysterical fit she could be insulting. He guessed there were just some things people never grew out of.

"Why did you come here?" She tensed against him and raised her tear-stained face to glare at him in frustration.

"Haven't you been listening to anything I've said?" she demanded tartly. She pushed herself off of him and stalked away. Her mood swing left him in a mild state of confusion and he stood up uncertainly. He wondered if she had brought her infamous crossbow. He hoped not.

"You shouldn't be here. We're at war and it's dangerous for someone like you."

"Oh really? I don't think so, Dalet. We were affianced at my birth and I have no intention of leaving this ship without a ring and an 'I do'." She crossed her arms, her whole attitude brooking no opposition.

"Wyn–"

"No. My mind's made up and there's nothing you or anyone else can do to make me leave."

"I'm on acting duty, you insufferable pest. I can't very well drop everything and get married, even if I wanted to, which I don't," he yelled angrily.

"So now were into name calling? Don't piss me off, Dalet. You know how I get."

"That's the whole reason I ran away." She paled at his final outburst. He could see the tension travelling through her body at the shock of his news. Her mouth opened a few times as she tried to articulate her feelings or come up with a suitably hair-raising insult.

"I see," she began slowly, her black eyes devoid of any emotion. "It doesn't matter. Your parents signed a contract with mine and I don't intend on letting you weasel your way out."

"Why is this so important to you? Why can't you just marry some boy in the village?"

Her glare intensified and a fine trembling took hold of her body. "I don't have to justify myself to you. If anything you should be the one begging forgiveness at my feet."

"This is not some game, Wyn. This is serious."

"I'm perfectly aware of that."

"God dammit, you're not hearing what I'm saying. This is war and I'm fighting in it. We don't have room for some scatterbrained girl who wants to find a husband." Had he been taller and she shorter he would have no problem intimidating her, but she was nearly as tall as him and filled with unbending iron.

"Shut the hell up. You don't know anything and you sure don't know me." He brushed back his shoulder length chestnut hair and smiled cruelly.

"I think I do, Wyn. I think I know exactly why you're doing this." She stared mutely at him, the anger draining from her face.

* * * *

Disclaimer: I do own Escaflowne…okay…I'm lying…I don't…but I own this story. It's mine. No touchy :) But feel free to review (hint, hint).