Fic: Dulce et Decorum est
Title: Dulce et Decorum est
Characters: pretty much all of them
Warnings: umm, pretty much all of them? No, I kid. But this is dark and angsty and not Christmassy at all. I think I had too much sugar these past few weeks and needed an outlet.
Rating: R
A/N: The title comes from a Wilfred Owen poem. The idea for this fic comes from the character meme we all did a while ago, ellorgast 's results in particular. Yes, shit did explode indeed.
Three people are standing in front of a temple, but nobody talks. They’re not praying either. There are loud screams coming from the palace to their left and equally loud ones coming from the hidden dungeons beneath their feet. The screams from the palace announce life, those from the dungeons herald death.
Venus is pale, paler than any of the almost translucent Moon people. Next to her, Jadeite looks ashen despite his tan and Endymion, well, Endymion is full of colour. The bags under his eyes are purple, his lips are blue, and the blotches on his cheeks are an angry red. It’s not befitting for a prince of the Golden Kingdom to shed tears, but there’s no-one to watch him fail but the two people beside him and it’s not as if they care. Not anymore.
The doors behind them open and Zoisite walks out: he looks as angelic as ever, but his eyes are as a dark as the night sky they are standing under. Above them, the blue planet moves, even though it feels as if the world stopped turning days ago. Zoisite walks past his prince without a second glance, and Endymion doesn’t know whether that’s kindness or punishment. There’s a brief flash of harsh light (only Jadeite shields his eyes) and then Zoisite is gone.
“He’s disapparated home,” Endymion mumbles, but Venus can’t hear him over the screams crawling through the floor. Jadeite, hearing as sharp as a fox’s, glares at his prince. There is so much fire in his blue eyes that Endymion quickly looks away: he doesn’t want to be burned again. Finally, the screams and wails from the palace cease and it’s not long before Jupiter hurries towards them, a bundle of white blankets in her arms. The tears running down her face don’t stop as she hands it over to Jadeite, who receives it with more care than anyone would have believed him capable of. Venus turns her back on all of them, but doesn’t walk away. Another flash of light, and Jadeite and the newborn are gone. Jupiter hurries back to the palace, heedless of the prince and the guardian. She has Serenity to take care off. Venus knows that she and Mercury won’t leave the princess’s side for weeks to come.
Underneath them, a whip sounds loud in the night and the prisoner screams. It breaks something in Endymion and he reaches for Venus’s arm and forces her around. “How could you let this happen?” His question is the straw that breaks the camel’s back and Venus descends on him in all the fury of a woman scorned, tortured and left.
“How could I let this happen? She was yours to love and he was yours to guard. What do I have to do with it? Leave me out of it, Endymion!” She has omitted his title, and without thinking, he slaps her hard across the face. But they’re not on Earth, so not a second goes by before she lifts her hands against him. A single slap has never stung this bad. “If you touch me again,” she whispers, “Earth will find itself without a crown prince.”
They glare at each other until the screams stop. The sudden silence is like a punch in the gut and Venus sinks to the floor, a swift and soundless movement. Her life is in ruins. Endymion looks at her, still convinced of her guilt. She must have played a part in the events that led to his dark day and sometime soon, he will see her punished for it, punished just like-
“It’s done,” Nephrite announces and walks towards them. He has the weight of the world on his shoulders and the blood of his friend on his clothes. “Tell your Queen that her daughter’s innocence is avenged.” Endymion reaches for his sword, but Nephrite takes it out of his hands immediately. “I have seen enough blood for a lifetime and I wouldn’t have had to do this if it weren’t for you and our kingdom. We’re leaving.” His deep voice is so weary that Endymion can’t deny him. Like a lamb for slaughter, all the fight fleeing his body, he allows his shitennou to lead him away, bringing a few but crucial steps between him and the crumpled form of Venus, the woman they all thought Kunzite loved. For the last time this night, the blinding light of apparition flashes and the last Terrans have left the Moon. Venus knows that they didn’t take Kunzite’s body, it’s still there under the palace, under the temple, under the masquerade of civilization. The decree that called for his execution is the same one that demands that he rots in the dungeons. Despite everything, she wishes she could bury him, afford him dignity in death as he had in life.
It’s Mars who comes to lead her back into the palace. They have a weeping princess to console: tonight, Serenity lost man and child, not to ever see or hear about either again. Duty calls and Venus arranges her face into something that doesn’t sing ballads of her own suffering.
The End
Characters: pretty much all of them
Warnings: umm, pretty much all of them? No, I kid. But this is dark and angsty and not Christmassy at all. I think I had too much sugar these past few weeks and needed an outlet.
Rating: R
A/N: The title comes from a Wilfred Owen poem. The idea for this fic comes from the character meme we all did a while ago, ellorgast 's results in particular. Yes, shit did explode indeed.
Three people are standing in front of a temple, but nobody talks. They’re not praying either. There are loud screams coming from the palace to their left and equally loud ones coming from the hidden dungeons beneath their feet. The screams from the palace announce life, those from the dungeons herald death.
Venus is pale, paler than any of the almost translucent Moon people. Next to her, Jadeite looks ashen despite his tan and Endymion, well, Endymion is full of colour. The bags under his eyes are purple, his lips are blue, and the blotches on his cheeks are an angry red. It’s not befitting for a prince of the Golden Kingdom to shed tears, but there’s no-one to watch him fail but the two people beside him and it’s not as if they care. Not anymore.
The doors behind them open and Zoisite walks out: he looks as angelic as ever, but his eyes are as a dark as the night sky they are standing under. Above them, the blue planet moves, even though it feels as if the world stopped turning days ago. Zoisite walks past his prince without a second glance, and Endymion doesn’t know whether that’s kindness or punishment. There’s a brief flash of harsh light (only Jadeite shields his eyes) and then Zoisite is gone.
“He’s disapparated home,” Endymion mumbles, but Venus can’t hear him over the screams crawling through the floor. Jadeite, hearing as sharp as a fox’s, glares at his prince. There is so much fire in his blue eyes that Endymion quickly looks away: he doesn’t want to be burned again. Finally, the screams and wails from the palace cease and it’s not long before Jupiter hurries towards them, a bundle of white blankets in her arms. The tears running down her face don’t stop as she hands it over to Jadeite, who receives it with more care than anyone would have believed him capable of. Venus turns her back on all of them, but doesn’t walk away. Another flash of light, and Jadeite and the newborn are gone. Jupiter hurries back to the palace, heedless of the prince and the guardian. She has Serenity to take care off. Venus knows that she and Mercury won’t leave the princess’s side for weeks to come.
Underneath them, a whip sounds loud in the night and the prisoner screams. It breaks something in Endymion and he reaches for Venus’s arm and forces her around. “How could you let this happen?” His question is the straw that breaks the camel’s back and Venus descends on him in all the fury of a woman scorned, tortured and left.
“How could I let this happen? She was yours to love and he was yours to guard. What do I have to do with it? Leave me out of it, Endymion!” She has omitted his title, and without thinking, he slaps her hard across the face. But they’re not on Earth, so not a second goes by before she lifts her hands against him. A single slap has never stung this bad. “If you touch me again,” she whispers, “Earth will find itself without a crown prince.”
They glare at each other until the screams stop. The sudden silence is like a punch in the gut and Venus sinks to the floor, a swift and soundless movement. Her life is in ruins. Endymion looks at her, still convinced of her guilt. She must have played a part in the events that led to his dark day and sometime soon, he will see her punished for it, punished just like-
“It’s done,” Nephrite announces and walks towards them. He has the weight of the world on his shoulders and the blood of his friend on his clothes. “Tell your Queen that her daughter’s innocence is avenged.” Endymion reaches for his sword, but Nephrite takes it out of his hands immediately. “I have seen enough blood for a lifetime and I wouldn’t have had to do this if it weren’t for you and our kingdom. We’re leaving.” His deep voice is so weary that Endymion can’t deny him. Like a lamb for slaughter, all the fight fleeing his body, he allows his shitennou to lead him away, bringing a few but crucial steps between him and the crumpled form of Venus, the woman they all thought Kunzite loved. For the last time this night, the blinding light of apparition flashes and the last Terrans have left the Moon. Venus knows that they didn’t take Kunzite’s body, it’s still there under the palace, under the temple, under the masquerade of civilization. The decree that called for his execution is the same one that demands that he rots in the dungeons. Despite everything, she wishes she could bury him, afford him dignity in death as he had in life.
It’s Mars who comes to lead her back into the palace. They have a weeping princess to console: tonight, Serenity lost man and child, not to ever see or hear about either again. Duty calls and Venus arranges her face into something that doesn’t sing ballads of her own suffering.
The End