The new BSSM story
'Cause the original "In the Bath" turned out better than I thought it was.
Darnit.
So I dug into my mental ideas folder and came up with this...
They say that when Endymion sought out the men who would become his guard--an Earth ritual that has been going on for generations--he found himself pulled to the great wastes of the Pole.
(What? No, the North one. Yes, there are two of them, North and South. The South one doesn't have anything on it. Now hush, I'm telling you an important story.)
It was a great stretch of frozen land, marred only by where the summer melts had created sinks and gaps in the ice. Although all looked like one sheet of ice, he knew that this appearance was deceptive, that the ice was really a series of layers. Some were thick. Some were quite thin. The Prince had to tread very care--
(Excuse me? How do I know that he thought that? Because it's in the story, dope! Now will you just listen?)
The Prince--the Prince had to tread very carefully. He had to rely quite heavily on his ability to sense the Earth beneath him to know where to step. Even then, the readings he got could be deceptive, and so his journey slowed to a crawl. Yet despite the peril to his life, he knew that this is where he had to be. Someone--or something--waited for him somewhere in this field of ice.
(Yeees, there are animals who live there. I don't know how, they just do. Quiet now!)
He journeyed for many days and nights, the land always lit by the faded glow of a sickly looking sun. He--
(Don't you pay attention? On some parts of the Earth, for months at a time, the sun never sets. It has to do with the rotation. Seriously, I wonder why Serenity wants to send you on this mission! Anyways...where was I...)
He sought shelter whenever the wind and cold were too fierce, and crept forward when he could. Throughout it all, he could feel a power waiting for him, a blot on his mind like the sun on the sky. It whispered to him on the wind and beckoned to him in his dreams: Come, Prince of Earth. Come--
(--you're sick.)
--find me. I have been waiting for you. Come find me.
He listened, and he followed. For seven days, he moved across the field of ice, until finally, he came to a place where an obvious crevasse split the land. The thinnest layer of snow and ice lay over it, too thin for him to cross, and he despaired of finding his way around it so that he could pursue his goal.
But in the midst of his despair, the voice called to him again.
(Just...pay attention, will you?)
"Prince of Earth," it bellowed, the sound shaking the ice, lifting the snow, and creasing the wind around him. "Prince of Earth, long have I awaited a man of your power. The Kingdom of Elysium has opened to you. The Golden Crystal heeds your. The Earth itself rejoices at your footsteps. I--"
(It's probably propaganda. But it's also a necessary story, so will you just can it and listen!)
"If you will have me, I will serve you."
The Prince eyed the crevasse where the voice seemed to have come from. Then he raised his head and called back, "Before I can answer, you must show yourself."
The ground rumbled like a sigh, and then the voice answered, "As the Lord of Earth wishes."
The land fell silent, as silent as Endymion had heard it since he stepped foot into this waste. Even the wind seemed to go silent around him.
Then, in front of him, the crevasse shattered open. From its depths emerged a dragon, its scales the color of frost, its beard--
(--I will not dignify that question with an answer. Ask Mercury; she'll give you a list of books to read so you can catch up on what you already should know.)
--like fine threads of moonlight, and its eyes glowing like molten silver. Its length was three times that of a man, and when it reared over his position, its height was more than twice the Prince's.
Man and dragon regarded each other on that silent plain, only a whisper of a breeze between them. What the Prince thought--what he felt--upon seeing the beast, this tale does not tell. But he stood his ground, and he kept his eyes on the dragon's, as if daring it to try and steal any of his power.
After some time, the dragon spoke again.
"I have shown myself, Prince of Earth. Will you accept my power as your own?"
(Dragons. Do Not. Eat People. Also, stop making that ridiculous hand gesture; they don't look like some sort of consummate V.)
The Prince looked over the dragon again, over its length and height and body of snow and ice. Then he met the great creature's eyes, and what he saw there, they say, moved something in his heart. He extended his hand to the beast.
"I do accept."
The dragon lowered its head to the ground before the Prince. "Then--I pledge my service--"
In the space of a word, the beast had disappeared, and a man stood in its place.
"--to you," said the man. He looked, on first glance, much like the people of the shores Endymion had come across: skin of nut brown, and dressed in dark skins. But his hair was the silver of frost, and his eyes were molten silver, and so Endymion knew this was his dragon.
The man knelt on the snow, clutching his hand over his heart. "My fealty is yours, Prince. My power is yours, Prince. In your service I will live, and in your service I will die. This so do I vow."
The Prince, in accords with the ritual, removed his glove and placed one bare hand on the man's hair. It felt spun ice, an even sharper cold beneath his fingers than the air around it. Even so, the Prince replied, "Your service I do accept. Now rise and join me by my side--Kunzite."
Mars reached out and placed a rock on the table between her and Venus.
"Which is the story of how Kunzite, the first of Endymion's Kings, came to join his Prince," she said. "Or, at least, that is the story they tell on Earth."
Venus picked up the rock. Though smooth and polished as a gemstone, it retained a lumpy shape. She held it up to the light, examining it: a whitish, clearish rock, tinged in places with pink. She turned it over in her mind as well as her hand, searching it automatically for any thread of power. Especially a power that would suggest a dragon made of ice.
"There's some obvious exaggeration to it, of course," Mars went on. "But also a kernel of truth." She tapped at the rock in Venus's fingers. "Something you should keep in mind."
Venus gave her a dry look over the stone. "And why's that? It's not like Endymion's going to send me out on dragon back. That's a little conspicuous for this sort of mission."
Mars almost rolled her eyes. "He's not actually a dragon, Venus."
"Aww, really? I was looking forward to finally meeting one." She toyed with the rock, eyes focused on it. It was fascinating how the color could shift under the light.
"It's an allegory, Venus," Mars sighed. "The dragon is a symbol."
Venus frowned at her around the rock. "For what?" she asked. "Hoarding? Flight?" The corner of her mouth turned up. "A snake-like co--"
"Venus."
She grinned fully, then went back to looking at the rock. "I'm not familiar with Earth symbols, Mars," she said, voice breezy. "You're going to have to fill me in on this one."
Mars took a deep breath, the kind she always took when she wanted to not reach across the table and smack the other person silly. "I really wonder why Serenity is sending you down there to do this," she said.
Venus tilted the rock out of the way. "Because I'm the best for this," she said. "You know that." She tilted it back. "And Serenity needs the best if she wants to turn this into a diplomatic coup."
Mars's mouth thinned to a line. "Yes," she conceded. "You are the best for the task. But that does not make you the best for the job." A beat. "And would you stop waving that stupid rock in the air? It's pissing me off."
Venus tilted it out of the way again, then deliberately let it drop to the table. It landed with a sharp sound, one that made Mars's mouth somehow thin even more.
"You know, you could still override her," she said. "Take my place. Go yourself. Meet 'the dragon' in person." Her fingers absently skittered over the rock's surface. "See if he's all he's cracked up to be."
"No, I can't," Mars replied, a hint of exasperation creeping into her voice. "And you know I can't. While the Queen is away treating, Serenity needs someone with sense." Another sigh. "Besides, the contract says that someone of 'the first rank' must go. You know that's not my position."
Venus shrugged. "Trade ranks with me, then."
Mars's eyebrows went up. Venus grinned. "C'mon, rank is fluid enough up here for that. And how would they know what makes a first rank Lunar anyways? I bet that's just a standard clause."
Mars regarded her for a moment, then shook her head again. "Figures," she said, voice dry, "that the one time I don't want your job, all you want to do is give it to me."
Venus shifted in her seat, and when Mars looked up, her eyes widened. "Venus--"
Venus reached across the table, wrapping Mars's free hand in her firm grip. "For the sake of the mission," she said, in tones so rarely heard, "I would make this trade."
Mars held her eyes for a moment, then shook her head. "No, Venus," she said, voice softer. "It's yours. It--it needs to be yours."
"Then why do you sound so unsure?" Each word carefully shaped, carefully fluid, from her tongue. "Have you seen something, felt something?"
Mars shook her head slowly. "No," she said. "Nothing--nothing in the usual manner. But--"
She squeezed Venus's hand.
"There is a tickle in my stomach," she said, "and the feel of a cool breeze along the back of my neck. It is not a premonition, but more like a premonition to come. And it tells me--it tells me that this needs to be yours, Venus. You are the one who needs to go. It's not just about your qualifications--poor as they are in some areas--but about you."
Venus gave her the thoughtful look so common to this face of hers. "In a good way or a bad way?" she asked.
"I don't know," she said, and gave her hand another squeeze. "Call it--call it something necessary. Your presence is required. But that's all I can tell." She let out a sigh and dropped her hand, head tilting forward. "As I said, it's not even a premonition. Just--a whisper on the wind."
"Heh," Venus said. "Like the one that brought Endymion to Kunzite." Her voice slipped back to its normal light tone.
"Something like that," Mars replied, voice also slipping back to its normal tone. After a moment, she added, "Venus, will you stop playing with that stupid rock?"
Venus continued to roll it across the table. "I wonder how he knew," she murmured.
"How he knew what?" Mars asked on a sigh.
"What his name was," she said. She glanced up. "Endymion, I mean. How did he know what Kunzite's name was?"
Mars resisted the urge to rub her hand across her eyes. "He didn't," she said.
Venus frowned. "What, is that part of the allegory, too?" she asked.
"Nooo," Mars said, then pushed away from the table. "It's a symbol of their bond."
Venus just looked at her.
"Kunzite gives Endymion his service," she explained, "and so Endymion gives him a name. That's how it works down there."
"Oh." Venus's eyes dropped back to the stone. "So, is he gonna give me a name, too?"
"That does not deserve the dignity of a response, Venus," Mars said. She pushed back from the table. "And if you're going to do this without making the moon a total laughing stock, then you really need to study up." She stood. "I have some additional resources I can drop by your room. Just--promise me you'll read them."
"Sure," Venus said with a shrug. She dropped down lower, resting her head on her arm. "Will they have pictures?"
"Venus."
Venus grinned up at her. "Just kidding, Mars. Thanks for the story."
"For all you listened to it," Mars muttered, and swept out of the room.
Venus waited until her friend had disappeared to let the lines of her face relax back to a more comfortable position. Sometimes the cheer came easier than others.
"Oh, I listened," she murmured to herself, rolling the rock to the left, then the right. "But what exactly I heard--that, we'll have to see." She leaned in, as if addressing the rock. "Won't we?"
The rock said nothing back. She offered it an almost smile, then shifted back in her chair.
"Gotta wonder, though," she said, stretching her arms over her head, "who names their most powerful ally after a pink rock?"
It is said that when it came time for the Moon Princess to pick the four ladies who would serve her most closely--as they do on the Moon--she was taken to a large house made of glass. When she was let inside, she was surprised to find that it wasn't a closed space, but an open field, full of row upon row of flowers.
(The Moon is capable of growing many things, m'Lord. Aside from the Crystal, they get more sun than we do.)
The flowers came in all shapes and sizes, in all shades of new and old, and in all the colors to be found in the rainbow.
(...I am sure they have rainbows, m'Lord. They just may not call them that.)
Through the field she wandered, following the subtle push and pull of her heart. When she came to a field of water lilies, the beat of her heart grew loud, louder than it had been before. She looked over these lilies, then reached in and picked one of the palest blush color. She set it on the ground, took a step back, and called out, "Mercury."
In an instant, her guardian was there, crowned in the watery hues of the pond and blessed with the pale blush of the flower itself.
(Probably not, m'Lord. The Moon doesn't have the kind of conditions that would generate muck, I think.)
With one guardian trailing behind her, she continued to make her way through the flowers. Soon she came to a field of roses, as thick with large, heady flowers as it was with roses. One rose in particular, a fierce iron red, had grown twined with that wall, so that the whole of it seemed shielded in sharp points. Yet this was where the Moon Princess's heart beat loudest, and so together with her guardian, she reached for it. And lo, the points did not scar nor prick, and she was able to secure the flower. She set it in a nearby pile of ashes--
(...it is just part of the story, m'Lord. Perhaps they had been burning the briar?)
--stepped back, and called out, "Mars."
In an instant, her second guardian appeared, crowned in the purple and red of the thorns and blessed with the vivid red eyes of the flower itself.
Together, the Princess and her two guardians set off across the field of flowers. However, no matter how long they walked, the Princess's heart did not beat faster, did not signal that a guardian was near. Needing a moment's rest--
(She is a Princess, m'lord. A moment's rest is surely allowed.)
--they sought out the shade of a stand of oaks at the edge of the field.
And lo, when the Princess did come near, the leaves of the trees did rustle, and her heart began to beat faster. Between her and her guardians, she found what she needed: a large acorn dangling from a nearby branch.
(Well, flowers give way to fruits and seeds, m'Lord. And oak flowers are not that visible.)
With some help from her guardians, she managed to pull the acorn from the branch. Carefully she set it on the ground, then called out, "Jupiter."
In an instant, her third guardian appeared, crowned in the green and brown of the tree and blessed with the healthy nut brown hair of the acorn itself.
Together, the Princess and her three guardians set off across the field of flowers. Only one guardian remained, the last, she who would stand as her twin.
(It is a phrase, m'Lord. An act of language artifice, not some sort of cosmic hint.)
Yet though they walked the fields, up and down, and though they swept through the trees, side by side, and though they searched, far and wide, they could not find a flower that made the Princess's heart beat faster. A hint of despair crept over them, and the sky above began to shade from blue to grey, as if a sign of an approaching storm.
(...I honestly do not know, m'Lord. It seems as if they would need such things, though. Perhaps we should ask?)
Just as they were about to seek shelter and discuss their options--for the Princess could not leave without the four guardians of her heart--there was a sudden pop! from across the field. In an instant, the grey in the sky rolled back, bringing back the gold of the sun and the clear blue of the sky. And from across the field came a voice, calling the name of the Princess.
Her three guardians in tow, the Princess picked up her skirts and hurried--as best she could--across the field. They had to travel much farther than it seemed, past rows of flowers short and tall, past plants living and dying, past stands of trees and patches of scrubby weeds. But finally, they reached the place where the sound seemed to have come from. It was a field of sunflowers: tall golden heads proud against the blue sky. And sitting beneath them, crowned in the gold of the sun and the blue of the sky, blessed with a countenance as open as the sunflower itself, was a woman. The only sign that she had ever been a flower were three petals in her hair, which soon dissolved into their own streaks of gold.
"My name is Venus," she said with a smile. "I got tired of waiting."
(3174)
"And that," Zoisite said, "is the story they tell on the Moon about the Lady of Venus."
He sat back in his plush chair and waited for the appropriate response.
Kunzite kept scratching his pen over the piece of paper in front of him. After a moment, he glanced up, murmured, "Interesting," then went back to his writing.
Zoisite exchanged a glance with Jadeite, who rolled his eyes. He sighed back, then scooted forward in his chair. "M'Lord--the story," he said.
"As I said, interesting," Kunzite replied. He wrote for a few seconds more, then paused to dip the quill. As he did, he looked up again. "An interesting choice for a guardian base, flowers."
Jadeite leaned back in his chair with a sigh, and Zoisite bit back a groan. "They didn't actually come from flowers, m'Lord," he said.
Kunzite's eyes came up. "Really. Then--why did the story say so?" His voice and face were cool as always, turning a question that should be couched in confusion into one that felt slightly dismissive.
Before Zoisite could explain, Jadeite said, "Because it's a PARABLE, that's why!" He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Right, Zoisite?"
"It does function more like a parable," he agreed. "Or a fairy tale. There's much symbolism in flowers, and to the choice of flowers for each of the ladies. And there's a symbolic overlay to the presentation of Venus as well, one that can tell us much about--"
He trailed off as Kunzite went back to writing. After a second, he sighed.
"You did say you wanted to know what the Moon said about Venus," he said. "And now you know." He stood. "If I may be excused?"
"You may," Kunzite replied.
Zoisite gave a little bow in his direction, then shot Jadeite a helpless look, one that seemed to say, "I did my best." Then he touched the fragment of crystal inset on his wrist and vanished in swirl of shards.
Jadeite counted to ten in Chiky, then backwards from it in Sol. He was tempted to add another count to it, but really, Kunzite--
"I assume you have stayed for a reason," Kunzite said. He dipped his quill again, and in the pause, met Jadeite's eyes briefly. Jadeite took that moment to glare, and Kunzite paused, quill above whatever document he was working with. Before it could drip ink, though, he set it aside, pushed the paper away, then folded his gloved hands on his desk. "A reason that apparently has something to do with my behavior, judging from your posture. What is it, General?"
Jadeite raised his eyes to the Heavens and shook his head. "What is it? You asked me to dig Zoisite out of the Archives because of his knowledge of Moon Culture. He takes the time to come here and present important information, and yet you dismiss it--and him!--out of hand." He raked his hand over his hair. "That's pretty piss poor data collection, Commander! What would the Prince think?"
Kunzite's eyes sharpened at the mention of the Prince, but otherwise, his expression didn't change. "You think I was short, then?" he said.
Jadeite held forefinger and thumb a hair apart in agreement.
Kunzite's eyebrows drifted up a fraction. "So bad, Jade?" he said, voice a touch softer.
"That bad, Commander," he assured him.
A gloved finger tapped at the desk. "I--must admit, when I asked for information from the Moon, I did--not expect I would be getting a fairy tale," he said.
"More like a parable," Jadeite reminded him. "And yeah, it may seem strange, but that's information direct from the Moon right there. Right out of a fili's mouth! It might not be her three sizes--"
"A fact that would not interest me," Kunzite put in.
"And don't I know it, Ice Lord," Jadeite shot back.
Kunzite's mouth thinned, and the tapping finger scraped across the desk for a moment. Then he said, "I had expected hard data. Zoisite is good at providing such. But this--this was not."
"Except it was, Commander," Jadeite replied, force to his voice. "It's not numbers, it's not fact and figures and power estimates, but it's more important than that. It tells you something about HER, something so true about HER that they encoded it into a story."
Kunzite tilted his head slightly. "And what does it tell me?" he said. "That she is impatient?" He gave a little shrug. "I fail to see how this will help me."
Jadeite nearly rolled his eyes at him. "No, Commander," he said, "it is not so bold a statement." He considered it for a second; Moon symbolism was not his forte, though he'd picked up enough of it by osmosis that he could interpret, say, a children's book. Adult parables and fairy tales were still more of Zoisite's domain, though, but good luck calling him back now. He was probably off shooting targets and muttering about the pigheadedness of combat commanders, and why Endymion had just HAD to choose Kunzite for this particular mission when he was going to cause a diplomatic incident just by opening his mouth--
Though that might have been Jade projecting a little.
"Then," Kunzite said, a trace of ice in his voice, "what is the statement?"
Jadeite sighed, clasping his hands together. "Think about the progression of the story, Commander," he said. "What is different about Venus's appearance?"
Kunzite's eyes narrowed a little. It used to unnerve Jadeite to see it, until he realized that it was just a sign that the man was thinking. "I could say that she appeared by herself," he said, "but I feel you may dismiss that analysis as shallow."
"It's truth, but yes, it's also shallow," Jadeite replied, grinning a little. "Dig a little deeper, Commander. Go to your scholarly side."
"I assure you, Jade, it is not a side I often leave," he replied, voice dry. "I just happen to prefer tactics to symbolism."
"So try a little tactics on the symbolism," Jadeite replied, the grin growing a touch more. "I know you're capable of it, Commander."
Kunzite's mouth curled a little in a way that doubted both Jade's thesis and conclusion, but he did not dismiss the idea out of hand. "All right," he said, "I will try."
He folded his hands together and let his eyes close slightly, a posture Jadeite had never seem him use for tactics, but perhaps was needed for meshing it with something a little more literary. Jadeite leaned back in the chair, propping his foot on his knee; this could get interesting.
The Commander was still for a long moment; then, his eyes twitched, his head tilting again to the side. "Power," he said. "It's about power."
"Very good, Commander," Jadeite replied. "Yes--her appearance is about power. Not only can she free herself without the Princess's call, she can also name herself. Both of those are signs of power."
Kunzite was quiet a moment longer, then added, "It's also about light. Sunflowers and gold--are associated with the sun. Her power is related to the sun. To light." His eyes scrunch up a little more, something that he manages not to make look silly. Jadeite has often thought that Kunzite could wear a jester's regalia and make it look serious.
"Just as the other ladies were placed amid their associations," he continued. His eyes open for a second. "The ashes were important."
Jadeite gave a slow nod. "They were," he said. So was the mention of the iron color, but no need to ask him to go to that level.
Kunzite let his eyes close partially again. He was quiet for a long moment, long enough that Jadeite wondered if he should toss him a hint. Then, with no preamble, he said, "She stands apart."
Jadeite's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
"She is the only one who stood alone," he said. "So she stands apart. But she does not fear it; she accepts it. She only called for the Princess and her group once, then trusted them to find her. So...her position among them is powerful, but isolating; however, the burden is not a heavy one for her, or is once that she takes upon herself willingly. For some reason." His eyes squinched a little tighter. "Some reason--"
His eyes came open. "Do you know the reason?" he asked.
Jadeite was still trying to make sense of the previous number of connections Kunzite had just made. "The reason?" he asked.
"Why her power is not a burden to her," he asked.
Jadeite gave a little shrug. "No idea, Commander," he said.
Kunzite's expression shifted in little parts to one that was, somehow, disapproving. "They had to have said it for a reason," he said.
Jadeite let out his little grin again. "To be honest, Commander, I've never heard the interpretation you just gave before," he said. "The ones I know of just refer to it as a shorthand for her power, powers, and general disposition. After all, sunflowers always tilt up, don't they?" Another shrug. "Zoisite might know something about a deeper one--"
"--but he is over at the archery buttes, working off my offense," Kunzite continued. He glanced down at his desk. "Perhaps I shall ask him about it later."
"I'd give it some time," Jadeite advised. "Or find a good bottle of Blush to tempt him with first."
"Ah yes, the wine," Kunzite murmured. "That is, indeed, something to consider."
A moment of silence stretched between them, one that Jadeite took as his cue to leave.
"Well, Commander," he said, rocking to his feet, "I should be off, too." He glanced at the report on his desk. "Think you'll have that finished by the end of the day?"
"Within a few hours," Kunzite replied, the air about him shifting back towards more of his usual stoic nature. "You may assure the Prince of that."
"If he asks, I will," Jadeite replied. He rolled up his sleeve to expose his own crystal inset, then paused. He tapped on Kunzite's desk, drawing his attention again.
"You know," he said, "you're not bad at decoding symbolism. Maybe you should try it more often?"
Kunzite gave him a dry look. "Your encouragement is appreciated, Jade. But I believe it is best for the poets and scholars. I--" He shook his head. "I already have a place."
"As you say, Commander," he said. "Two hours, then?"
"Two and a half. It will give me time to polish."
Jadeite nodded. "See you then," he said, and touched his inset.
Kunzite looked up just after his comrade vanished. One gloved finger began to tap at the desk as his eyes stared, unfocused, across the room.
"How does she bear the burden," he murmured to himself. "It is all there, clear as day, but--how does she do it?"
He shook his head, and with that gesture, shook off those thoughts. He had set a time limit to finish this report, and he would make it. He always made his time limits; it was part of his job. Perhaps after, he would have time for stray thoughts--strange thoughts as these were--but until then, they were locked away in the back of his mind.
Perhaps he would also figure out what he could use to entreat Zoisite, too.
Later, though. Later. For now, there was work to be finished.
Besides, in three days time, he might be able to ask her himself.
Venus stepped off the teleportation web and hoped like hell she wasn't about to be sick.
It wasn't anything to do with the quality of Earth magic; while it followed a different path from that used up in the Lunar system, they all came from the same stock originally, and it tickled her with familiarity. No, it was just the effect of bouncing from web to web to get down to Elysium. The heart of the Earth Kingdom wasn't really part of the Earth Kingdom proper, but within a magical sphere of land maintained by--someone. Their sources hadn't been all that clear on that facet of its power, though it had some connection the lineage that currently ruled much of the planet. They weren't even sure how many generations back the Terran line had consolidated their power.
There was a lot their sources had left out.
It was a beautiful place, though, she thought as she made her way up towards the gates. Green trees and grass lined the crushed white stone path, occasionally disturbed by a bed of bright flowers; and overhead, a great blue sky, the color possessing a dense quality that never occurred under the Moon dome. It was quiet, too, almost as quiet as parts of the Moon could be. She had been warned by some of their spies to expect a cacophony on Earth--apparently, the life it supported was all noisy--but the only sound she could hear here was that of a breeze stirring the plants around her.
She had expected, somehow, more people. An emissary of the dreaded Lunar Tyrant shouldn't just drop in to no one, right? Even if they'd agreed on her right to be here. She felt another tickle of unease in her stomach, one not brought on by a teleport across such a distance. She was here on the right day, wasn't she? They hadn't messed up her schedule? Mercury and Luna had done the calculations twice--each!--to make sure their time would be synced up. Yet she could see--
She crested the top of the path, took one step over, and saw where all the people had been hiding.
Ah, she thought. A bent light barrier. She wanted, for a second, to stop and run her hand over the magic; it tickled with even more similarity than the magic on the Earth web. But she was pretty sure all the nice gents in armor with their very pointy looking halberds would have something to say about that.
She gave them a cheerful grin and a wave anyways, as if she had been more surprised to see their numbers than that they had been waiting for her. Besides, her tutors had always taught her to be polite to large hosts of men. They tended to remember those who weren't.
She started down the path again, slowing her step to an unconcerned pace, looking around her with a sense of wonder plain on her face. It gave the group of men with the sharp--oh, very sharp, if she was reading the light and metal right--objects time to get a good look at her, to size her up. She had put on her most staid and official looking dress of office, a dull gold almost-robe that covered just about everything. Oh sure, the sleeves were large enough to conceal weapons if she wished, and it looked nothing like what was in fashion for nobles on the planet, but it helped her project an air of helpful harmlessness. It helped, she had been told, that it looked like something their monks would wear. Even so, Mars had added a crown of daisies, ruthlessly pinned in place, just to make her look that much less harmful.
It was too bad she couldn't wear her usual dress, but she had been advised that a white, semi-translucent suit wouldn't go over well. Even after she'd pointed out that the whole point was to give her something to bend light around and create whatever they wanted to see, they had vetoed her. It was too cold down there, they'd told her, to wear that. And what if the magic isn't stable enough to support her light? No, Venus, it was a bad idea.
So she'd given in. From the number of pointy objects they were pointing at her, that had been a good idea.
As she came within a few paces of them, a man stepped out from the group. He carried a beaked helm under his arm, leaving his head exposed, but by his armor style and the cape over it, he had to be of a higher rank than the men around him. He had a shock of night black hair over lightly toasted skin, and his eyes were the color of the edges of the sky. More importantly, to her, he was wearing a smile.
"Greetings to the Lady of Venus," he called, then gave a short bow. "I am called Jadeite. If you will follow me, please?" He extended his arm to her.
She hesitated for just a moment, then moved forward to take it. She wrapped her hands around it slowly, carefully, to show the men around him that she meant no threat. "Just Venus, m'Lord," she said. "And my pleasure."
He gave her a slight smile and nod, and together, the two of them made their stately and slow way to the gate. It opened before them without a creak, and in moments, she had left the gaggle of heavily armed men to her back. It didn't make her feel an less easy about it; now, if some hot head decided to do something, she would be even more exposed. But that was the price to pay for diplomacy at times.
Only when they passed through the large, dark wood doors--reinforced with metal, if the tingle on her senses was any indication--and let them fall silently closed behind her did she relax any. At least, now, there should be a snap of magic to indicate her life was in danger, and that she could shield against.
"All right, Lady?" Jadeite asked.
"Yes," she breathed out. "Though if you don't mind--?" She unwrapped one hand from his arm.
"Oh! No, of course not."
She pulled entirely free from his escort, flexing her fingers a little. It was a lovely gesture, and one that showed quite a bit of faith in her, but now that she was within the castle, there was no need to continue it. Besides, it gave her use of her hands again. She preferred that.
Jadeite was giving her an appraising look. "So it is true," he said.
"Hm?"
"Lunar women usually go without escort."
She gave him a soft, questioning look. He held up a hand. "Sorry, just--curiosity," he said.
"It's all right," she replied. "I just--wasn't expecting that." She shrugged. "I'm sure many Lunar women travel with an escort of some sort. I just usually don't." She flexed her hands. "Part of my...position. But even I--" she inclined her head to him "--take escort at formal occasions. And I appreciated yours out there."
He nodded his head back at her. "My pleasure to provide," he said, then gestured forward. "Shall we?" he asked.
"At your pleasure," she replied formally.
He smiled at her again, showing some very white teeth, before moving forward.
She trailed behind him--though not too far behind him--taking in the construction of the place. Mercury would have known more about how it all fit together, and Jupiter about the materials that had gone into its construction and the relative quality of it, but she wasn't that good. Mostly, she just took in the color and the way it seemed so full of nooks and crannies. The effect gave an impression of a much more closed off space than she was used to, though it was neither terribly dark nor oppressive in any way. It was just a different style, one that gave the impression of being--grounded, somehow. Organic, like the palace had been grown rather than constructed. She could see how it could feel quite homey. She wasn't quite there yet, though.
After a few moments of quiet, Jadeite began to pepper her with questions, mostly little, innocuous things. For a high ranking Earth official, he seemed to have quite the interest in Lunar customs. Mars, she felt, would see that as a good thing, and so she answered his questions to the best of her ability. Some were quite easy; some she had to search for a diplomatic answer on. It also gave her a sense of the kind of information they had down here. It should, by most reckoning, be hundreds of years out of date; it was not. For all that Earth had been a closed, wild planet for much of the Silver Kingdom's existence, information was not something that could ever be turned off completely. It had just become a much more tenuous stream; at least, until recently. This Jadeite was quite caught up.
In fact, suspiciously so.
As suspicious as the innocuous feeling he projected. Was this what an Earth King really felt like, so shielded and clamped down?
She had a feeling...not.
So, as they entered another hall--a fancier one, with more delicate carpets over stone--she waited for his questions to peter out for a moment. In that second of silence, she put in, "And now, my Lord Jadeite, I have a question for you."
That caught him off guard, but then he smiled again--so bright!--and said, "Of course, Lady of Venus. I will answer to the best of my ability." He waggled his eyebrows at her, as if daring her to test that ability.
She had always been pretty good about taking dares.
"Who are you?" she asked.
His face fell into a shocked expression, one that he covered with another quick smile. "Lady, you know that," he said. "My name is Jadeite! I am the--"
"If you are Jadeite," she said, "then I will eat my pretty flowered tiara." She paused to let it sink in, then asked again, in a voice a little softer, "Who are you?"
The man gave a nervous laugh, but she refused to follow, holding her expression firm. The sound petered off, and he gave a sudden, deep sigh, a much more resonant one sound than she'd heard from him before. "Jadeite," he said.
Before she could protest, a voice behind her said, "I told you it wouldn't work."
Venus stiffened, unsure if she should turn; she could feel the weapon in his hand.
"Ah, but it was worth the experiment, wouldn't you say, my friend?" the man in front of her said. His voice had also grown more resonant, and as she watched, he shifted his posture in small, slight ways, moving it to something that seemed much more powerful. Unease prickled her spine; she had a feeling she should know this one, but she didn't.
"That is more Zoisite's line, not mine," came the voice, suddenly in front of her. She could practically smell his sword now, and it made her fingers scrunch her sleeves. She did not like being near invisible men--especially when they didn't use HER kind of invisibility--who carried open weapons. She did not like it at all.
The man who had yet to identify himself frowned at a blank space near them. "Jadeite," he said, "show yourself. And put your weapon away, you're making the Lady nervous."
A soft laugh, and then it seemed like a section of the hallway tore open, producing a man with spiky blond hair. He glanced at her with pale, knowing eyes, then looked back to the other man. "Shouldn't she be?" he asked, changing his grip on his sword. "She is an enemy on enemy ground."
The man made a rude noise. "She is a guest away from home," he said. "One whose presence we have requested. And," his voice sharpened, "unless I miss my guess, she is sensitive to the weapon you carry. So--put it away."
Jadeite glanced back at her. "Is she now," he said, then sheathed his sword, locking it with a click. "That is worth knowing."
The man made another rude noise.
Jadeite laughed again. "You've always been too soft, Endymion," he said. "Sometimes, I wonder how Kunzite tolerates it."
"Because he knows that that the velvet covers steel, Jadeite," the man--Endymion, he'd called him...
Wait. Endymion--Endymion--she knew that name, it was an important name, it was--
--the name of the Prince.
Oh. Shit.
She clenched her fist to her heart and bowed over it. "My Lord, Prince of Earth," she said, voice the proper softness. "Greetings to thee."
For a long moment, neither of them said anything. She chanced to peek at them from under her bow--a necessary skill acquired early in her court career--and nearly lost her own composure at the looks on their faces. Jadeite looked almost stunned. Endymion looked equal parts stunned and--giddy? Was she reading that emotion right? She had long practice at doing so--it was part of her diplomatic training, after all--but this was Earth. Not part of her diplomatic training. Not part of her experience outside of texts.
So of course they had to be weird. Because that was just her luck.
It's just a good thing neither knows Mars, she thought as she pulled her eyes to their proper place. She would tease me for MONTHS about this.
"Lady," the Prince finally said, his voice gentle and yet with that strange giddy sound to it, "you may rise."
"Thank you, my Lord Prince," she said, easing out of the proper bow but holding to a position only slightly less proper.
But the Prince was looking at Jadeite. "You see, Jade?" he said. "You see?"
"I see," Jadeite said, something begrudging in his voice.
Venus looked between the two men as if they would enlighten her about what was being seen. They did not; rather, they just kept looking at each other, eyes holding as if there were some sort of secret conversation going on between them. Which Venus wouldn't doubt; the focus it took to construct and send thought was very similar to the focus used to construct spells, and both of them obviously had some experience in that. She chalked that up as something to remember in the future; it could come in handy on the mission, provided their comrade had similar skills.
After a minute, though, she felt as if she should cough discreetly to remind them of her presence. Was it an old argument? Or were they just not used to having people around? Come to think of it, the castle was strangely deserted for its size. There should have been serving folk at every corner, working to maintain the building, or waiting on their Lord's whim. Especially since this was THE Endymion. Prince of practically the whole damn planet. Quester for and Ruler of the Four Kings. A man who was supposed to be able to tap and channel the power of the very planet itself, akin to the Planet Crystals possessed by the four Senshi. It was said---though very quietly--that his power might rival that of the Silver Crystal itself. Venus personally doubted that, but then again, she had a lot of strange ideas about how power worked in the first place.
Finally, though, Jadeite gave a little bow, fist over his heart. "I will hold you to that, my Prince," he said.
"I wouldn't expect any less," the Prince replied in his sonorous voice.
Jadeite nodded to her. "Lady."
She nodded back. "General."
His mouth curled a little, and she hoped like hell using that rank wasn't an insult. If it was, he showed no other sign as he opened the air of the hallway and moved within it, becoming invisible again. This time, though, she had his energy signature in mind, and could feel him move away from the both of them. He paused at a distance she thought of as "the chaperon" - the amount of room a good minder would give their charge and any one they showed interest in.
Endymion didn't seem so impressed. "Jadeite," he tutted softly, then gestured to her. "Come, Lady," he said. "Let's get you settled before he decides that you've addled my mind."
Venus stepped forward gladly, though she noted that he didn't offer to escort her again. She flipped through several possible replies, trying to gauge what would be most effective based on the little she knew of the Earth Prince. Finally, she settled on loyal warrior.
"He is just doing his duty, your Highness," she said.
His face screwed up like a child tasting a sour ball, and he waved a hand. "Please, please," he said. "Elysium is not a place of much formality. You may call me Endymion."
She dipped her head. "I am thankful for that allowance," she said, "but I fear your men don't particularly want me to call you Endymion."
"Probably not," Endymion muttered, an exasperated affection in his voice. "But as our guest--"
She stopped then in the hall. It took him a moment to realize it, but when he did, he turned immediately back to her. "Something wrong, Lady?" he asked. "Has the teleportation caught up with you?"
She shook her head. "No, Prince," she said. "But I do need to offer a correction."
His brow furrowed. "A correction?"
"Yes." She took a breath and hoped her tone would come out measured enough not to offend him or the King at her back. "I am not your guest, Endymion."
The furrowed brow only got worse, and along with it, there was a distinct hint of kicked puppy around his eyes. "What do you mean, Venus?" he asked.
She took a slow breath. "I mean this, Prince," she said. "A guest is invited. I came because I was called, because there is a duty to perform that requires my skills alongside the skills of those of Earth." She let her face soften, let some of the nervous tangling of her hands show. "I am flattered you would consider me such. Immensely so. But make no mistake, Prince: I am an emissary. I am a warrior. I am an agent of my Princess and my Queen. Your man was right to call me an enemy--it is just, for now, that we are on the same side." She took another breath, then cautiously looked in his face. "I hope you understand that."
For a second, the kicked puppy look got even worse, in such a way that she almost wanted to call "Joke!" and go back to the giddy charm of before. But she had laid the words out for him for a reason: this was a mission, and he needed to keep that in mind, lest it cause a different kind of trouble later on. She did not want to cause any sort of conflict here.
Then, with a slow, almost radiant spread, the look dissolved into one knowing and canny. "I see, Lady of Venus," he said. "I see." He dipped his head a little to her, not quite a bow, but close enough that she wanted to wave her hands and make sure Jadeite didn't see.
He pivoted away from her. "In that case, I can skip the tour and take you directly to the guest chamber. Would that be pleasing to you, Lady?"
Internally, she let out a sigh, though not quite one of relief. Endymion's mind had jumped tracks there, and she wasn't sure what sort of track it was now on. And the only way to find out was to stay with him a little longer. Just--a little longer.
"Actually, your Highness," she said, stepping a little closer, "I still need to walk off the effects of the webs." Hesitantly, she touched his arm, fingers curling around it. "So a tour would be most appreciated."
He flashed her that dazzling smile of his. "I was hoping you would say that," he said, a glint in his eye. She wished she could read it, but--no such luck.
He crooked his arm for her. With another internal sigh, she hooked hers within it, and off they went together to see what he could show her. And, she thought, probably some things he shouldn't show her. But--
It would likely be worth it, in the end.
And in the end, it did turn out to be. But not for reasons she would ever suspect at the time.
Kunzite did not accompany his Lord on his planned tour of the castle. It would've been a smart thing to do, but his power was so sharp Endymion feared it would disturb the Lady's constitution. Kunzite forbore in pointing out that the Lady was a warrior who lived in space; given the distance of the teleport, he could see how that would be possible.
He also forbore from pointing out how foolish it was for Endymion to do this thing at all. It wasn't only that he had, in some part, trained the Prince; it was also because he understood the Prince's need for contact. It turned the grown man he knew well into someone a little more like a child, and it was--despite the security risk inherent to it--best to let him get it out of his system before the Lady continued on her mission.
His stay did not mean he lacked for information, though. The other three men came and reported to him as they rotated through their watch on Endymion and the Lady.
Zoisite reported that the Lady spoke in a quiet, thoughtful way around the Prince. "As if she gives tribute to his rank with her voice," he said. He was also interested in the way she folded her hands within her sleeves as they walked, making her look "more a Monk than Princess."
Nephrite reported that the Lady had a discerning eye, and seemed quite attentive to the sounds around her outside of those made by the Prince. He was also fascinated with her walk, though the state of her dress did not give her the shapely behind he, of course, favored. "She walks like a man, but daintily," he said. "Her step is sure, careful, and while not a prance or a mince, Endymion has obviously slowed his pace to allow her to keep up. Or she has made him do so; it was not easy to tell. In any case, her walk tells me that her credentials are most likely true."
Jadeite reported that the Lady had made the proper obeisances immediately upon knowing Endymion's true rank. He also called her diplomatic, though not with the most polished turn of phrase, given how she answered Endymion's question. He noted, too, that she did seem have some sensitivity to metal, and that there was an odd play of light in her hair, as if it had gathered there and just stayed. "And I wouldn't have thought that important, Kunzite, except that the amount of light looked like it changed as her mood changed."
No matter how trivial or strange the piece of information seemed, Kunzite took it all in with a grave appreciation. Nor was it just for Endymion's sake; he was to accompany this Lady on her journey. It felt necessary to know as much as he could about her, given the circumstances.
What intrigued him most, though, was that they had apparently taken a different route than Endymion had originally suggested, one that looped through more of the manicured palace gardens. None of his men knew why the change had happened. Jadeite suggested it had come after a short exchange between the Lady and Endymion, just after he was dismissed back to his guard position. What exactly was said, he couldn't say, but it had altered the air between them subtly, and Endymion had taken a different path after that. Whether he had been using it to throw off his men--no one could say, either. It wasn't like they could exactly lose him Elysium; it was just that sometimes, he slipped their minds for longer than they might have wished.
It was a puzzle, though, and one Kunzite gave a fifty-fifty chance of ever eventually solving. Endymion had his...ways.
He went over all this information in his mind again as he adjusted the hang of his cape. He had recused himself from the tour in order to allow the Lady to adjust to Earth's conditions, but dinner was a different matter all together. Endymion probably would not appreciate the formal dress at dinner, but Kunzite had an older school sense of propriety than his Prince. Besides, it would be the little Princess's first impression of him, and he might as well make it a good one. The other men, he knew, were going to dress similarly, as if to show their power as a matched set.
Last, as always, came the gloves. They were a dark brown leather lined in silk, designed to both match his uniform and fit well to his hands. He wondered if she would find it passing strange that he wore gloves to eat at dinner. Then again, considering the Lady's origin, it was a wonder if she would find anything passing strange. The descriptions he had read of Sol and the Lunar Kingdom over these past few days had given him the impression that it was some sort of Space Sidhe, an overhead mound kingdom with miracles and horrors around every corner, delights and devilry to defy and inspire the imagination.
/And to think,/ he thought, that little curve tugging at the corners of his mouth again, /we are the wild ones, the untamed beasts, to them./
A good thought to keep in mind as he went to meet this Lady. She might speak well, be friendly seeming, and make the right motions at the right time, but she was still a Lunar. She had been raised steeped in the idea that they were nothing but mad men down here. It was an idea he could, if necessary, use to his advantage, provided he allowed a little of his own sharpness to show at the right times.
He was, as he had been told so many times, quite good at sharp.
He smoothed his gloves over each other, then smoothed it along the lines of his clothing. He was about to adjust himself again when an internal chime went off, signaling that dinner was soon to begin.
Time, then, to go dine with the Lady.
He was a few minutes early to the dinner table, allowing him to get a good seat. She was--as was good and proper--a few minutes late, though he wasn't sure if that was her inclination or because Zoisite had been the one to escort her downstairs. She had obviously changed--good; she had found the luggage that had come through after her--and had at least washed her face, for it shown with a scrubbed light. Her step was indeed light but sure as she moved into the room, and when Zoisite pulled a chair out for her, she thanked him with grace and sat with ease.
She so far fit all the things his men had reported on.
Only, it seemed, they had glossed over one important detail.
The Lady was freaking /gorgeous./
Perhaps it was because they had assumed Kunzite would know that the Sidhefolk of the sky were always beautiful. Perhaps it was something everyone assumed of the Lunars. Perhaps they'd thought that having the title "goddess" was enough of a clue for anyone. Yet, despite knowing all of these possibilities, it had not occurred to Kunzite that the Lady would be anything but standard in looks. After all, she was a warrior, wasn't she? Her steps showed that, and he could see the clean strength in her hands and wrists from here. Perhaps she would be a little beautiful to them because of her exoticness, but not--no, no, nothing like this.
Hair of gold. Not just a shiny blonde, like Jadeite, but really like cloth of gold flowing from her head, complete with a crown of light encircling it. A fair, almost heart-shaped face. A mouth that seemed as if it'd been just kissed full. Skin that looked too soft, as if inviting a touch. A body that, though clad in a fairly staid gown in soft blue, had obvious curves.
And her hands. Bare, deceptively soft looking, but to his eyes, obviously strong. Lean, shapely fingers that seemed fit for sewing or playing strings, yet nevertheless, he felt were familiar with a knife. Wrists that, when she turned, displayed strong sinew, but without the ranginess to be found in his own. She had the hands of a Lady and the hands of a warrior all in one, and it was this that made him think that perhaps the appellation "goddess" had more truth to it than they had previously supposed.
Truly a lovely creature, worthy of the fey realm she had come from.
Truly, it did not bode well for their mission.
(9997)
Darnit.
So I dug into my mental ideas folder and came up with this...
They say that when Endymion sought out the men who would become his guard--an Earth ritual that has been going on for generations--he found himself pulled to the great wastes of the Pole.
(What? No, the North one. Yes, there are two of them, North and South. The South one doesn't have anything on it. Now hush, I'm telling you an important story.)
It was a great stretch of frozen land, marred only by where the summer melts had created sinks and gaps in the ice. Although all looked like one sheet of ice, he knew that this appearance was deceptive, that the ice was really a series of layers. Some were thick. Some were quite thin. The Prince had to tread very care--
(Excuse me? How do I know that he thought that? Because it's in the story, dope! Now will you just listen?)
The Prince--the Prince had to tread very carefully. He had to rely quite heavily on his ability to sense the Earth beneath him to know where to step. Even then, the readings he got could be deceptive, and so his journey slowed to a crawl. Yet despite the peril to his life, he knew that this is where he had to be. Someone--or something--waited for him somewhere in this field of ice.
(Yeees, there are animals who live there. I don't know how, they just do. Quiet now!)
He journeyed for many days and nights, the land always lit by the faded glow of a sickly looking sun. He--
(Don't you pay attention? On some parts of the Earth, for months at a time, the sun never sets. It has to do with the rotation. Seriously, I wonder why Serenity wants to send you on this mission! Anyways...where was I...)
He sought shelter whenever the wind and cold were too fierce, and crept forward when he could. Throughout it all, he could feel a power waiting for him, a blot on his mind like the sun on the sky. It whispered to him on the wind and beckoned to him in his dreams: Come, Prince of Earth. Come--
(--you're sick.)
--find me. I have been waiting for you. Come find me.
He listened, and he followed. For seven days, he moved across the field of ice, until finally, he came to a place where an obvious crevasse split the land. The thinnest layer of snow and ice lay over it, too thin for him to cross, and he despaired of finding his way around it so that he could pursue his goal.
But in the midst of his despair, the voice called to him again.
(Just...pay attention, will you?)
"Prince of Earth," it bellowed, the sound shaking the ice, lifting the snow, and creasing the wind around him. "Prince of Earth, long have I awaited a man of your power. The Kingdom of Elysium has opened to you. The Golden Crystal heeds your. The Earth itself rejoices at your footsteps. I--"
(It's probably propaganda. But it's also a necessary story, so will you just can it and listen!)
"If you will have me, I will serve you."
The Prince eyed the crevasse where the voice seemed to have come from. Then he raised his head and called back, "Before I can answer, you must show yourself."
The ground rumbled like a sigh, and then the voice answered, "As the Lord of Earth wishes."
The land fell silent, as silent as Endymion had heard it since he stepped foot into this waste. Even the wind seemed to go silent around him.
Then, in front of him, the crevasse shattered open. From its depths emerged a dragon, its scales the color of frost, its beard--
(--I will not dignify that question with an answer. Ask Mercury; she'll give you a list of books to read so you can catch up on what you already should know.)
--like fine threads of moonlight, and its eyes glowing like molten silver. Its length was three times that of a man, and when it reared over his position, its height was more than twice the Prince's.
Man and dragon regarded each other on that silent plain, only a whisper of a breeze between them. What the Prince thought--what he felt--upon seeing the beast, this tale does not tell. But he stood his ground, and he kept his eyes on the dragon's, as if daring it to try and steal any of his power.
After some time, the dragon spoke again.
"I have shown myself, Prince of Earth. Will you accept my power as your own?"
(Dragons. Do Not. Eat People. Also, stop making that ridiculous hand gesture; they don't look like some sort of consummate V.)
The Prince looked over the dragon again, over its length and height and body of snow and ice. Then he met the great creature's eyes, and what he saw there, they say, moved something in his heart. He extended his hand to the beast.
"I do accept."
The dragon lowered its head to the ground before the Prince. "Then--I pledge my service--"
In the space of a word, the beast had disappeared, and a man stood in its place.
"--to you," said the man. He looked, on first glance, much like the people of the shores Endymion had come across: skin of nut brown, and dressed in dark skins. But his hair was the silver of frost, and his eyes were molten silver, and so Endymion knew this was his dragon.
The man knelt on the snow, clutching his hand over his heart. "My fealty is yours, Prince. My power is yours, Prince. In your service I will live, and in your service I will die. This so do I vow."
The Prince, in accords with the ritual, removed his glove and placed one bare hand on the man's hair. It felt spun ice, an even sharper cold beneath his fingers than the air around it. Even so, the Prince replied, "Your service I do accept. Now rise and join me by my side--Kunzite."
Mars reached out and placed a rock on the table between her and Venus.
"Which is the story of how Kunzite, the first of Endymion's Kings, came to join his Prince," she said. "Or, at least, that is the story they tell on Earth."
Venus picked up the rock. Though smooth and polished as a gemstone, it retained a lumpy shape. She held it up to the light, examining it: a whitish, clearish rock, tinged in places with pink. She turned it over in her mind as well as her hand, searching it automatically for any thread of power. Especially a power that would suggest a dragon made of ice.
"There's some obvious exaggeration to it, of course," Mars went on. "But also a kernel of truth." She tapped at the rock in Venus's fingers. "Something you should keep in mind."
Venus gave her a dry look over the stone. "And why's that? It's not like Endymion's going to send me out on dragon back. That's a little conspicuous for this sort of mission."
Mars almost rolled her eyes. "He's not actually a dragon, Venus."
"Aww, really? I was looking forward to finally meeting one." She toyed with the rock, eyes focused on it. It was fascinating how the color could shift under the light.
"It's an allegory, Venus," Mars sighed. "The dragon is a symbol."
Venus frowned at her around the rock. "For what?" she asked. "Hoarding? Flight?" The corner of her mouth turned up. "A snake-like co--"
"Venus."
She grinned fully, then went back to looking at the rock. "I'm not familiar with Earth symbols, Mars," she said, voice breezy. "You're going to have to fill me in on this one."
Mars took a deep breath, the kind she always took when she wanted to not reach across the table and smack the other person silly. "I really wonder why Serenity is sending you down there to do this," she said.
Venus tilted the rock out of the way. "Because I'm the best for this," she said. "You know that." She tilted it back. "And Serenity needs the best if she wants to turn this into a diplomatic coup."
Mars's mouth thinned to a line. "Yes," she conceded. "You are the best for the task. But that does not make you the best for the job." A beat. "And would you stop waving that stupid rock in the air? It's pissing me off."
Venus tilted it out of the way again, then deliberately let it drop to the table. It landed with a sharp sound, one that made Mars's mouth somehow thin even more.
"You know, you could still override her," she said. "Take my place. Go yourself. Meet 'the dragon' in person." Her fingers absently skittered over the rock's surface. "See if he's all he's cracked up to be."
"No, I can't," Mars replied, a hint of exasperation creeping into her voice. "And you know I can't. While the Queen is away treating, Serenity needs someone with sense." Another sigh. "Besides, the contract says that someone of 'the first rank' must go. You know that's not my position."
Venus shrugged. "Trade ranks with me, then."
Mars's eyebrows went up. Venus grinned. "C'mon, rank is fluid enough up here for that. And how would they know what makes a first rank Lunar anyways? I bet that's just a standard clause."
Mars regarded her for a moment, then shook her head again. "Figures," she said, voice dry, "that the one time I don't want your job, all you want to do is give it to me."
Venus shifted in her seat, and when Mars looked up, her eyes widened. "Venus--"
Venus reached across the table, wrapping Mars's free hand in her firm grip. "For the sake of the mission," she said, in tones so rarely heard, "I would make this trade."
Mars held her eyes for a moment, then shook her head. "No, Venus," she said, voice softer. "It's yours. It--it needs to be yours."
"Then why do you sound so unsure?" Each word carefully shaped, carefully fluid, from her tongue. "Have you seen something, felt something?"
Mars shook her head slowly. "No," she said. "Nothing--nothing in the usual manner. But--"
She squeezed Venus's hand.
"There is a tickle in my stomach," she said, "and the feel of a cool breeze along the back of my neck. It is not a premonition, but more like a premonition to come. And it tells me--it tells me that this needs to be yours, Venus. You are the one who needs to go. It's not just about your qualifications--poor as they are in some areas--but about you."
Venus gave her the thoughtful look so common to this face of hers. "In a good way or a bad way?" she asked.
"I don't know," she said, and gave her hand another squeeze. "Call it--call it something necessary. Your presence is required. But that's all I can tell." She let out a sigh and dropped her hand, head tilting forward. "As I said, it's not even a premonition. Just--a whisper on the wind."
"Heh," Venus said. "Like the one that brought Endymion to Kunzite." Her voice slipped back to its normal light tone.
"Something like that," Mars replied, voice also slipping back to its normal tone. After a moment, she added, "Venus, will you stop playing with that stupid rock?"
Venus continued to roll it across the table. "I wonder how he knew," she murmured.
"How he knew what?" Mars asked on a sigh.
"What his name was," she said. She glanced up. "Endymion, I mean. How did he know what Kunzite's name was?"
Mars resisted the urge to rub her hand across her eyes. "He didn't," she said.
Venus frowned. "What, is that part of the allegory, too?" she asked.
"Nooo," Mars said, then pushed away from the table. "It's a symbol of their bond."
Venus just looked at her.
"Kunzite gives Endymion his service," she explained, "and so Endymion gives him a name. That's how it works down there."
"Oh." Venus's eyes dropped back to the stone. "So, is he gonna give me a name, too?"
"That does not deserve the dignity of a response, Venus," Mars said. She pushed back from the table. "And if you're going to do this without making the moon a total laughing stock, then you really need to study up." She stood. "I have some additional resources I can drop by your room. Just--promise me you'll read them."
"Sure," Venus said with a shrug. She dropped down lower, resting her head on her arm. "Will they have pictures?"
"Venus."
Venus grinned up at her. "Just kidding, Mars. Thanks for the story."
"For all you listened to it," Mars muttered, and swept out of the room.
Venus waited until her friend had disappeared to let the lines of her face relax back to a more comfortable position. Sometimes the cheer came easier than others.
"Oh, I listened," she murmured to herself, rolling the rock to the left, then the right. "But what exactly I heard--that, we'll have to see." She leaned in, as if addressing the rock. "Won't we?"
The rock said nothing back. She offered it an almost smile, then shifted back in her chair.
"Gotta wonder, though," she said, stretching her arms over her head, "who names their most powerful ally after a pink rock?"
It is said that when it came time for the Moon Princess to pick the four ladies who would serve her most closely--as they do on the Moon--she was taken to a large house made of glass. When she was let inside, she was surprised to find that it wasn't a closed space, but an open field, full of row upon row of flowers.
(The Moon is capable of growing many things, m'Lord. Aside from the Crystal, they get more sun than we do.)
The flowers came in all shapes and sizes, in all shades of new and old, and in all the colors to be found in the rainbow.
(...I am sure they have rainbows, m'Lord. They just may not call them that.)
Through the field she wandered, following the subtle push and pull of her heart. When she came to a field of water lilies, the beat of her heart grew loud, louder than it had been before. She looked over these lilies, then reached in and picked one of the palest blush color. She set it on the ground, took a step back, and called out, "Mercury."
In an instant, her guardian was there, crowned in the watery hues of the pond and blessed with the pale blush of the flower itself.
(Probably not, m'Lord. The Moon doesn't have the kind of conditions that would generate muck, I think.)
With one guardian trailing behind her, she continued to make her way through the flowers. Soon she came to a field of roses, as thick with large, heady flowers as it was with roses. One rose in particular, a fierce iron red, had grown twined with that wall, so that the whole of it seemed shielded in sharp points. Yet this was where the Moon Princess's heart beat loudest, and so together with her guardian, she reached for it. And lo, the points did not scar nor prick, and she was able to secure the flower. She set it in a nearby pile of ashes--
(...it is just part of the story, m'Lord. Perhaps they had been burning the briar?)
--stepped back, and called out, "Mars."
In an instant, her second guardian appeared, crowned in the purple and red of the thorns and blessed with the vivid red eyes of the flower itself.
Together, the Princess and her two guardians set off across the field of flowers. However, no matter how long they walked, the Princess's heart did not beat faster, did not signal that a guardian was near. Needing a moment's rest--
(She is a Princess, m'lord. A moment's rest is surely allowed.)
--they sought out the shade of a stand of oaks at the edge of the field.
And lo, when the Princess did come near, the leaves of the trees did rustle, and her heart began to beat faster. Between her and her guardians, she found what she needed: a large acorn dangling from a nearby branch.
(Well, flowers give way to fruits and seeds, m'Lord. And oak flowers are not that visible.)
With some help from her guardians, she managed to pull the acorn from the branch. Carefully she set it on the ground, then called out, "Jupiter."
In an instant, her third guardian appeared, crowned in the green and brown of the tree and blessed with the healthy nut brown hair of the acorn itself.
Together, the Princess and her three guardians set off across the field of flowers. Only one guardian remained, the last, she who would stand as her twin.
(It is a phrase, m'Lord. An act of language artifice, not some sort of cosmic hint.)
Yet though they walked the fields, up and down, and though they swept through the trees, side by side, and though they searched, far and wide, they could not find a flower that made the Princess's heart beat faster. A hint of despair crept over them, and the sky above began to shade from blue to grey, as if a sign of an approaching storm.
(...I honestly do not know, m'Lord. It seems as if they would need such things, though. Perhaps we should ask?)
Just as they were about to seek shelter and discuss their options--for the Princess could not leave without the four guardians of her heart--there was a sudden pop! from across the field. In an instant, the grey in the sky rolled back, bringing back the gold of the sun and the clear blue of the sky. And from across the field came a voice, calling the name of the Princess.
Her three guardians in tow, the Princess picked up her skirts and hurried--as best she could--across the field. They had to travel much farther than it seemed, past rows of flowers short and tall, past plants living and dying, past stands of trees and patches of scrubby weeds. But finally, they reached the place where the sound seemed to have come from. It was a field of sunflowers: tall golden heads proud against the blue sky. And sitting beneath them, crowned in the gold of the sun and the blue of the sky, blessed with a countenance as open as the sunflower itself, was a woman. The only sign that she had ever been a flower were three petals in her hair, which soon dissolved into their own streaks of gold.
"My name is Venus," she said with a smile. "I got tired of waiting."
(3174)
"And that," Zoisite said, "is the story they tell on the Moon about the Lady of Venus."
He sat back in his plush chair and waited for the appropriate response.
Kunzite kept scratching his pen over the piece of paper in front of him. After a moment, he glanced up, murmured, "Interesting," then went back to his writing.
Zoisite exchanged a glance with Jadeite, who rolled his eyes. He sighed back, then scooted forward in his chair. "M'Lord--the story," he said.
"As I said, interesting," Kunzite replied. He wrote for a few seconds more, then paused to dip the quill. As he did, he looked up again. "An interesting choice for a guardian base, flowers."
Jadeite leaned back in his chair with a sigh, and Zoisite bit back a groan. "They didn't actually come from flowers, m'Lord," he said.
Kunzite's eyes came up. "Really. Then--why did the story say so?" His voice and face were cool as always, turning a question that should be couched in confusion into one that felt slightly dismissive.
Before Zoisite could explain, Jadeite said, "Because it's a PARABLE, that's why!" He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Right, Zoisite?"
"It does function more like a parable," he agreed. "Or a fairy tale. There's much symbolism in flowers, and to the choice of flowers for each of the ladies. And there's a symbolic overlay to the presentation of Venus as well, one that can tell us much about--"
He trailed off as Kunzite went back to writing. After a second, he sighed.
"You did say you wanted to know what the Moon said about Venus," he said. "And now you know." He stood. "If I may be excused?"
"You may," Kunzite replied.
Zoisite gave a little bow in his direction, then shot Jadeite a helpless look, one that seemed to say, "I did my best." Then he touched the fragment of crystal inset on his wrist and vanished in swirl of shards.
Jadeite counted to ten in Chiky, then backwards from it in Sol. He was tempted to add another count to it, but really, Kunzite--
"I assume you have stayed for a reason," Kunzite said. He dipped his quill again, and in the pause, met Jadeite's eyes briefly. Jadeite took that moment to glare, and Kunzite paused, quill above whatever document he was working with. Before it could drip ink, though, he set it aside, pushed the paper away, then folded his gloved hands on his desk. "A reason that apparently has something to do with my behavior, judging from your posture. What is it, General?"
Jadeite raised his eyes to the Heavens and shook his head. "What is it? You asked me to dig Zoisite out of the Archives because of his knowledge of Moon Culture. He takes the time to come here and present important information, and yet you dismiss it--and him!--out of hand." He raked his hand over his hair. "That's pretty piss poor data collection, Commander! What would the Prince think?"
Kunzite's eyes sharpened at the mention of the Prince, but otherwise, his expression didn't change. "You think I was short, then?" he said.
Jadeite held forefinger and thumb a hair apart in agreement.
Kunzite's eyebrows drifted up a fraction. "So bad, Jade?" he said, voice a touch softer.
"That bad, Commander," he assured him.
A gloved finger tapped at the desk. "I--must admit, when I asked for information from the Moon, I did--not expect I would be getting a fairy tale," he said.
"More like a parable," Jadeite reminded him. "And yeah, it may seem strange, but that's information direct from the Moon right there. Right out of a fili's mouth! It might not be her three sizes--"
"A fact that would not interest me," Kunzite put in.
"And don't I know it, Ice Lord," Jadeite shot back.
Kunzite's mouth thinned, and the tapping finger scraped across the desk for a moment. Then he said, "I had expected hard data. Zoisite is good at providing such. But this--this was not."
"Except it was, Commander," Jadeite replied, force to his voice. "It's not numbers, it's not fact and figures and power estimates, but it's more important than that. It tells you something about HER, something so true about HER that they encoded it into a story."
Kunzite tilted his head slightly. "And what does it tell me?" he said. "That she is impatient?" He gave a little shrug. "I fail to see how this will help me."
Jadeite nearly rolled his eyes at him. "No, Commander," he said, "it is not so bold a statement." He considered it for a second; Moon symbolism was not his forte, though he'd picked up enough of it by osmosis that he could interpret, say, a children's book. Adult parables and fairy tales were still more of Zoisite's domain, though, but good luck calling him back now. He was probably off shooting targets and muttering about the pigheadedness of combat commanders, and why Endymion had just HAD to choose Kunzite for this particular mission when he was going to cause a diplomatic incident just by opening his mouth--
Though that might have been Jade projecting a little.
"Then," Kunzite said, a trace of ice in his voice, "what is the statement?"
Jadeite sighed, clasping his hands together. "Think about the progression of the story, Commander," he said. "What is different about Venus's appearance?"
Kunzite's eyes narrowed a little. It used to unnerve Jadeite to see it, until he realized that it was just a sign that the man was thinking. "I could say that she appeared by herself," he said, "but I feel you may dismiss that analysis as shallow."
"It's truth, but yes, it's also shallow," Jadeite replied, grinning a little. "Dig a little deeper, Commander. Go to your scholarly side."
"I assure you, Jade, it is not a side I often leave," he replied, voice dry. "I just happen to prefer tactics to symbolism."
"So try a little tactics on the symbolism," Jadeite replied, the grin growing a touch more. "I know you're capable of it, Commander."
Kunzite's mouth curled a little in a way that doubted both Jade's thesis and conclusion, but he did not dismiss the idea out of hand. "All right," he said, "I will try."
He folded his hands together and let his eyes close slightly, a posture Jadeite had never seem him use for tactics, but perhaps was needed for meshing it with something a little more literary. Jadeite leaned back in the chair, propping his foot on his knee; this could get interesting.
The Commander was still for a long moment; then, his eyes twitched, his head tilting again to the side. "Power," he said. "It's about power."
"Very good, Commander," Jadeite replied. "Yes--her appearance is about power. Not only can she free herself without the Princess's call, she can also name herself. Both of those are signs of power."
Kunzite was quiet a moment longer, then added, "It's also about light. Sunflowers and gold--are associated with the sun. Her power is related to the sun. To light." His eyes scrunch up a little more, something that he manages not to make look silly. Jadeite has often thought that Kunzite could wear a jester's regalia and make it look serious.
"Just as the other ladies were placed amid their associations," he continued. His eyes open for a second. "The ashes were important."
Jadeite gave a slow nod. "They were," he said. So was the mention of the iron color, but no need to ask him to go to that level.
Kunzite let his eyes close partially again. He was quiet for a long moment, long enough that Jadeite wondered if he should toss him a hint. Then, with no preamble, he said, "She stands apart."
Jadeite's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
"She is the only one who stood alone," he said. "So she stands apart. But she does not fear it; she accepts it. She only called for the Princess and her group once, then trusted them to find her. So...her position among them is powerful, but isolating; however, the burden is not a heavy one for her, or is once that she takes upon herself willingly. For some reason." His eyes squinched a little tighter. "Some reason--"
His eyes came open. "Do you know the reason?" he asked.
Jadeite was still trying to make sense of the previous number of connections Kunzite had just made. "The reason?" he asked.
"Why her power is not a burden to her," he asked.
Jadeite gave a little shrug. "No idea, Commander," he said.
Kunzite's expression shifted in little parts to one that was, somehow, disapproving. "They had to have said it for a reason," he said.
Jadeite let out his little grin again. "To be honest, Commander, I've never heard the interpretation you just gave before," he said. "The ones I know of just refer to it as a shorthand for her power, powers, and general disposition. After all, sunflowers always tilt up, don't they?" Another shrug. "Zoisite might know something about a deeper one--"
"--but he is over at the archery buttes, working off my offense," Kunzite continued. He glanced down at his desk. "Perhaps I shall ask him about it later."
"I'd give it some time," Jadeite advised. "Or find a good bottle of Blush to tempt him with first."
"Ah yes, the wine," Kunzite murmured. "That is, indeed, something to consider."
A moment of silence stretched between them, one that Jadeite took as his cue to leave.
"Well, Commander," he said, rocking to his feet, "I should be off, too." He glanced at the report on his desk. "Think you'll have that finished by the end of the day?"
"Within a few hours," Kunzite replied, the air about him shifting back towards more of his usual stoic nature. "You may assure the Prince of that."
"If he asks, I will," Jadeite replied. He rolled up his sleeve to expose his own crystal inset, then paused. He tapped on Kunzite's desk, drawing his attention again.
"You know," he said, "you're not bad at decoding symbolism. Maybe you should try it more often?"
Kunzite gave him a dry look. "Your encouragement is appreciated, Jade. But I believe it is best for the poets and scholars. I--" He shook his head. "I already have a place."
"As you say, Commander," he said. "Two hours, then?"
"Two and a half. It will give me time to polish."
Jadeite nodded. "See you then," he said, and touched his inset.
Kunzite looked up just after his comrade vanished. One gloved finger began to tap at the desk as his eyes stared, unfocused, across the room.
"How does she bear the burden," he murmured to himself. "It is all there, clear as day, but--how does she do it?"
He shook his head, and with that gesture, shook off those thoughts. He had set a time limit to finish this report, and he would make it. He always made his time limits; it was part of his job. Perhaps after, he would have time for stray thoughts--strange thoughts as these were--but until then, they were locked away in the back of his mind.
Perhaps he would also figure out what he could use to entreat Zoisite, too.
Later, though. Later. For now, there was work to be finished.
Besides, in three days time, he might be able to ask her himself.
Venus stepped off the teleportation web and hoped like hell she wasn't about to be sick.
It wasn't anything to do with the quality of Earth magic; while it followed a different path from that used up in the Lunar system, they all came from the same stock originally, and it tickled her with familiarity. No, it was just the effect of bouncing from web to web to get down to Elysium. The heart of the Earth Kingdom wasn't really part of the Earth Kingdom proper, but within a magical sphere of land maintained by--someone. Their sources hadn't been all that clear on that facet of its power, though it had some connection the lineage that currently ruled much of the planet. They weren't even sure how many generations back the Terran line had consolidated their power.
There was a lot their sources had left out.
It was a beautiful place, though, she thought as she made her way up towards the gates. Green trees and grass lined the crushed white stone path, occasionally disturbed by a bed of bright flowers; and overhead, a great blue sky, the color possessing a dense quality that never occurred under the Moon dome. It was quiet, too, almost as quiet as parts of the Moon could be. She had been warned by some of their spies to expect a cacophony on Earth--apparently, the life it supported was all noisy--but the only sound she could hear here was that of a breeze stirring the plants around her.
She had expected, somehow, more people. An emissary of the dreaded Lunar Tyrant shouldn't just drop in to no one, right? Even if they'd agreed on her right to be here. She felt another tickle of unease in her stomach, one not brought on by a teleport across such a distance. She was here on the right day, wasn't she? They hadn't messed up her schedule? Mercury and Luna had done the calculations twice--each!--to make sure their time would be synced up. Yet she could see--
She crested the top of the path, took one step over, and saw where all the people had been hiding.
Ah, she thought. A bent light barrier. She wanted, for a second, to stop and run her hand over the magic; it tickled with even more similarity than the magic on the Earth web. But she was pretty sure all the nice gents in armor with their very pointy looking halberds would have something to say about that.
She gave them a cheerful grin and a wave anyways, as if she had been more surprised to see their numbers than that they had been waiting for her. Besides, her tutors had always taught her to be polite to large hosts of men. They tended to remember those who weren't.
She started down the path again, slowing her step to an unconcerned pace, looking around her with a sense of wonder plain on her face. It gave the group of men with the sharp--oh, very sharp, if she was reading the light and metal right--objects time to get a good look at her, to size her up. She had put on her most staid and official looking dress of office, a dull gold almost-robe that covered just about everything. Oh sure, the sleeves were large enough to conceal weapons if she wished, and it looked nothing like what was in fashion for nobles on the planet, but it helped her project an air of helpful harmlessness. It helped, she had been told, that it looked like something their monks would wear. Even so, Mars had added a crown of daisies, ruthlessly pinned in place, just to make her look that much less harmful.
It was too bad she couldn't wear her usual dress, but she had been advised that a white, semi-translucent suit wouldn't go over well. Even after she'd pointed out that the whole point was to give her something to bend light around and create whatever they wanted to see, they had vetoed her. It was too cold down there, they'd told her, to wear that. And what if the magic isn't stable enough to support her light? No, Venus, it was a bad idea.
So she'd given in. From the number of pointy objects they were pointing at her, that had been a good idea.
As she came within a few paces of them, a man stepped out from the group. He carried a beaked helm under his arm, leaving his head exposed, but by his armor style and the cape over it, he had to be of a higher rank than the men around him. He had a shock of night black hair over lightly toasted skin, and his eyes were the color of the edges of the sky. More importantly, to her, he was wearing a smile.
"Greetings to the Lady of Venus," he called, then gave a short bow. "I am called Jadeite. If you will follow me, please?" He extended his arm to her.
She hesitated for just a moment, then moved forward to take it. She wrapped her hands around it slowly, carefully, to show the men around him that she meant no threat. "Just Venus, m'Lord," she said. "And my pleasure."
He gave her a slight smile and nod, and together, the two of them made their stately and slow way to the gate. It opened before them without a creak, and in moments, she had left the gaggle of heavily armed men to her back. It didn't make her feel an less easy about it; now, if some hot head decided to do something, she would be even more exposed. But that was the price to pay for diplomacy at times.
Only when they passed through the large, dark wood doors--reinforced with metal, if the tingle on her senses was any indication--and let them fall silently closed behind her did she relax any. At least, now, there should be a snap of magic to indicate her life was in danger, and that she could shield against.
"All right, Lady?" Jadeite asked.
"Yes," she breathed out. "Though if you don't mind--?" She unwrapped one hand from his arm.
"Oh! No, of course not."
She pulled entirely free from his escort, flexing her fingers a little. It was a lovely gesture, and one that showed quite a bit of faith in her, but now that she was within the castle, there was no need to continue it. Besides, it gave her use of her hands again. She preferred that.
Jadeite was giving her an appraising look. "So it is true," he said.
"Hm?"
"Lunar women usually go without escort."
She gave him a soft, questioning look. He held up a hand. "Sorry, just--curiosity," he said.
"It's all right," she replied. "I just--wasn't expecting that." She shrugged. "I'm sure many Lunar women travel with an escort of some sort. I just usually don't." She flexed her hands. "Part of my...position. But even I--" she inclined her head to him "--take escort at formal occasions. And I appreciated yours out there."
He nodded his head back at her. "My pleasure to provide," he said, then gestured forward. "Shall we?" he asked.
"At your pleasure," she replied formally.
He smiled at her again, showing some very white teeth, before moving forward.
She trailed behind him--though not too far behind him--taking in the construction of the place. Mercury would have known more about how it all fit together, and Jupiter about the materials that had gone into its construction and the relative quality of it, but she wasn't that good. Mostly, she just took in the color and the way it seemed so full of nooks and crannies. The effect gave an impression of a much more closed off space than she was used to, though it was neither terribly dark nor oppressive in any way. It was just a different style, one that gave the impression of being--grounded, somehow. Organic, like the palace had been grown rather than constructed. She could see how it could feel quite homey. She wasn't quite there yet, though.
After a few moments of quiet, Jadeite began to pepper her with questions, mostly little, innocuous things. For a high ranking Earth official, he seemed to have quite the interest in Lunar customs. Mars, she felt, would see that as a good thing, and so she answered his questions to the best of her ability. Some were quite easy; some she had to search for a diplomatic answer on. It also gave her a sense of the kind of information they had down here. It should, by most reckoning, be hundreds of years out of date; it was not. For all that Earth had been a closed, wild planet for much of the Silver Kingdom's existence, information was not something that could ever be turned off completely. It had just become a much more tenuous stream; at least, until recently. This Jadeite was quite caught up.
In fact, suspiciously so.
As suspicious as the innocuous feeling he projected. Was this what an Earth King really felt like, so shielded and clamped down?
She had a feeling...not.
So, as they entered another hall--a fancier one, with more delicate carpets over stone--she waited for his questions to peter out for a moment. In that second of silence, she put in, "And now, my Lord Jadeite, I have a question for you."
That caught him off guard, but then he smiled again--so bright!--and said, "Of course, Lady of Venus. I will answer to the best of my ability." He waggled his eyebrows at her, as if daring her to test that ability.
She had always been pretty good about taking dares.
"Who are you?" she asked.
His face fell into a shocked expression, one that he covered with another quick smile. "Lady, you know that," he said. "My name is Jadeite! I am the--"
"If you are Jadeite," she said, "then I will eat my pretty flowered tiara." She paused to let it sink in, then asked again, in a voice a little softer, "Who are you?"
The man gave a nervous laugh, but she refused to follow, holding her expression firm. The sound petered off, and he gave a sudden, deep sigh, a much more resonant one sound than she'd heard from him before. "Jadeite," he said.
Before she could protest, a voice behind her said, "I told you it wouldn't work."
Venus stiffened, unsure if she should turn; she could feel the weapon in his hand.
"Ah, but it was worth the experiment, wouldn't you say, my friend?" the man in front of her said. His voice had also grown more resonant, and as she watched, he shifted his posture in small, slight ways, moving it to something that seemed much more powerful. Unease prickled her spine; she had a feeling she should know this one, but she didn't.
"That is more Zoisite's line, not mine," came the voice, suddenly in front of her. She could practically smell his sword now, and it made her fingers scrunch her sleeves. She did not like being near invisible men--especially when they didn't use HER kind of invisibility--who carried open weapons. She did not like it at all.
The man who had yet to identify himself frowned at a blank space near them. "Jadeite," he said, "show yourself. And put your weapon away, you're making the Lady nervous."
A soft laugh, and then it seemed like a section of the hallway tore open, producing a man with spiky blond hair. He glanced at her with pale, knowing eyes, then looked back to the other man. "Shouldn't she be?" he asked, changing his grip on his sword. "She is an enemy on enemy ground."
The man made a rude noise. "She is a guest away from home," he said. "One whose presence we have requested. And," his voice sharpened, "unless I miss my guess, she is sensitive to the weapon you carry. So--put it away."
Jadeite glanced back at her. "Is she now," he said, then sheathed his sword, locking it with a click. "That is worth knowing."
The man made another rude noise.
Jadeite laughed again. "You've always been too soft, Endymion," he said. "Sometimes, I wonder how Kunzite tolerates it."
"Because he knows that that the velvet covers steel, Jadeite," the man--Endymion, he'd called him...
Wait. Endymion--Endymion--she knew that name, it was an important name, it was--
--the name of the Prince.
Oh. Shit.
She clenched her fist to her heart and bowed over it. "My Lord, Prince of Earth," she said, voice the proper softness. "Greetings to thee."
For a long moment, neither of them said anything. She chanced to peek at them from under her bow--a necessary skill acquired early in her court career--and nearly lost her own composure at the looks on their faces. Jadeite looked almost stunned. Endymion looked equal parts stunned and--giddy? Was she reading that emotion right? She had long practice at doing so--it was part of her diplomatic training, after all--but this was Earth. Not part of her diplomatic training. Not part of her experience outside of texts.
So of course they had to be weird. Because that was just her luck.
It's just a good thing neither knows Mars, she thought as she pulled her eyes to their proper place. She would tease me for MONTHS about this.
"Lady," the Prince finally said, his voice gentle and yet with that strange giddy sound to it, "you may rise."
"Thank you, my Lord Prince," she said, easing out of the proper bow but holding to a position only slightly less proper.
But the Prince was looking at Jadeite. "You see, Jade?" he said. "You see?"
"I see," Jadeite said, something begrudging in his voice.
Venus looked between the two men as if they would enlighten her about what was being seen. They did not; rather, they just kept looking at each other, eyes holding as if there were some sort of secret conversation going on between them. Which Venus wouldn't doubt; the focus it took to construct and send thought was very similar to the focus used to construct spells, and both of them obviously had some experience in that. She chalked that up as something to remember in the future; it could come in handy on the mission, provided their comrade had similar skills.
After a minute, though, she felt as if she should cough discreetly to remind them of her presence. Was it an old argument? Or were they just not used to having people around? Come to think of it, the castle was strangely deserted for its size. There should have been serving folk at every corner, working to maintain the building, or waiting on their Lord's whim. Especially since this was THE Endymion. Prince of practically the whole damn planet. Quester for and Ruler of the Four Kings. A man who was supposed to be able to tap and channel the power of the very planet itself, akin to the Planet Crystals possessed by the four Senshi. It was said---though very quietly--that his power might rival that of the Silver Crystal itself. Venus personally doubted that, but then again, she had a lot of strange ideas about how power worked in the first place.
Finally, though, Jadeite gave a little bow, fist over his heart. "I will hold you to that, my Prince," he said.
"I wouldn't expect any less," the Prince replied in his sonorous voice.
Jadeite nodded to her. "Lady."
She nodded back. "General."
His mouth curled a little, and she hoped like hell using that rank wasn't an insult. If it was, he showed no other sign as he opened the air of the hallway and moved within it, becoming invisible again. This time, though, she had his energy signature in mind, and could feel him move away from the both of them. He paused at a distance she thought of as "the chaperon" - the amount of room a good minder would give their charge and any one they showed interest in.
Endymion didn't seem so impressed. "Jadeite," he tutted softly, then gestured to her. "Come, Lady," he said. "Let's get you settled before he decides that you've addled my mind."
Venus stepped forward gladly, though she noted that he didn't offer to escort her again. She flipped through several possible replies, trying to gauge what would be most effective based on the little she knew of the Earth Prince. Finally, she settled on loyal warrior.
"He is just doing his duty, your Highness," she said.
His face screwed up like a child tasting a sour ball, and he waved a hand. "Please, please," he said. "Elysium is not a place of much formality. You may call me Endymion."
She dipped her head. "I am thankful for that allowance," she said, "but I fear your men don't particularly want me to call you Endymion."
"Probably not," Endymion muttered, an exasperated affection in his voice. "But as our guest--"
She stopped then in the hall. It took him a moment to realize it, but when he did, he turned immediately back to her. "Something wrong, Lady?" he asked. "Has the teleportation caught up with you?"
She shook her head. "No, Prince," she said. "But I do need to offer a correction."
His brow furrowed. "A correction?"
"Yes." She took a breath and hoped her tone would come out measured enough not to offend him or the King at her back. "I am not your guest, Endymion."
The furrowed brow only got worse, and along with it, there was a distinct hint of kicked puppy around his eyes. "What do you mean, Venus?" he asked.
She took a slow breath. "I mean this, Prince," she said. "A guest is invited. I came because I was called, because there is a duty to perform that requires my skills alongside the skills of those of Earth." She let her face soften, let some of the nervous tangling of her hands show. "I am flattered you would consider me such. Immensely so. But make no mistake, Prince: I am an emissary. I am a warrior. I am an agent of my Princess and my Queen. Your man was right to call me an enemy--it is just, for now, that we are on the same side." She took another breath, then cautiously looked in his face. "I hope you understand that."
For a second, the kicked puppy look got even worse, in such a way that she almost wanted to call "Joke!" and go back to the giddy charm of before. But she had laid the words out for him for a reason: this was a mission, and he needed to keep that in mind, lest it cause a different kind of trouble later on. She did not want to cause any sort of conflict here.
Then, with a slow, almost radiant spread, the look dissolved into one knowing and canny. "I see, Lady of Venus," he said. "I see." He dipped his head a little to her, not quite a bow, but close enough that she wanted to wave her hands and make sure Jadeite didn't see.
He pivoted away from her. "In that case, I can skip the tour and take you directly to the guest chamber. Would that be pleasing to you, Lady?"
Internally, she let out a sigh, though not quite one of relief. Endymion's mind had jumped tracks there, and she wasn't sure what sort of track it was now on. And the only way to find out was to stay with him a little longer. Just--a little longer.
"Actually, your Highness," she said, stepping a little closer, "I still need to walk off the effects of the webs." Hesitantly, she touched his arm, fingers curling around it. "So a tour would be most appreciated."
He flashed her that dazzling smile of his. "I was hoping you would say that," he said, a glint in his eye. She wished she could read it, but--no such luck.
He crooked his arm for her. With another internal sigh, she hooked hers within it, and off they went together to see what he could show her. And, she thought, probably some things he shouldn't show her. But--
It would likely be worth it, in the end.
And in the end, it did turn out to be. But not for reasons she would ever suspect at the time.
Kunzite did not accompany his Lord on his planned tour of the castle. It would've been a smart thing to do, but his power was so sharp Endymion feared it would disturb the Lady's constitution. Kunzite forbore in pointing out that the Lady was a warrior who lived in space; given the distance of the teleport, he could see how that would be possible.
He also forbore from pointing out how foolish it was for Endymion to do this thing at all. It wasn't only that he had, in some part, trained the Prince; it was also because he understood the Prince's need for contact. It turned the grown man he knew well into someone a little more like a child, and it was--despite the security risk inherent to it--best to let him get it out of his system before the Lady continued on her mission.
His stay did not mean he lacked for information, though. The other three men came and reported to him as they rotated through their watch on Endymion and the Lady.
Zoisite reported that the Lady spoke in a quiet, thoughtful way around the Prince. "As if she gives tribute to his rank with her voice," he said. He was also interested in the way she folded her hands within her sleeves as they walked, making her look "more a Monk than Princess."
Nephrite reported that the Lady had a discerning eye, and seemed quite attentive to the sounds around her outside of those made by the Prince. He was also fascinated with her walk, though the state of her dress did not give her the shapely behind he, of course, favored. "She walks like a man, but daintily," he said. "Her step is sure, careful, and while not a prance or a mince, Endymion has obviously slowed his pace to allow her to keep up. Or she has made him do so; it was not easy to tell. In any case, her walk tells me that her credentials are most likely true."
Jadeite reported that the Lady had made the proper obeisances immediately upon knowing Endymion's true rank. He also called her diplomatic, though not with the most polished turn of phrase, given how she answered Endymion's question. He noted, too, that she did seem have some sensitivity to metal, and that there was an odd play of light in her hair, as if it had gathered there and just stayed. "And I wouldn't have thought that important, Kunzite, except that the amount of light looked like it changed as her mood changed."
No matter how trivial or strange the piece of information seemed, Kunzite took it all in with a grave appreciation. Nor was it just for Endymion's sake; he was to accompany this Lady on her journey. It felt necessary to know as much as he could about her, given the circumstances.
What intrigued him most, though, was that they had apparently taken a different route than Endymion had originally suggested, one that looped through more of the manicured palace gardens. None of his men knew why the change had happened. Jadeite suggested it had come after a short exchange between the Lady and Endymion, just after he was dismissed back to his guard position. What exactly was said, he couldn't say, but it had altered the air between them subtly, and Endymion had taken a different path after that. Whether he had been using it to throw off his men--no one could say, either. It wasn't like they could exactly lose him Elysium; it was just that sometimes, he slipped their minds for longer than they might have wished.
It was a puzzle, though, and one Kunzite gave a fifty-fifty chance of ever eventually solving. Endymion had his...ways.
He went over all this information in his mind again as he adjusted the hang of his cape. He had recused himself from the tour in order to allow the Lady to adjust to Earth's conditions, but dinner was a different matter all together. Endymion probably would not appreciate the formal dress at dinner, but Kunzite had an older school sense of propriety than his Prince. Besides, it would be the little Princess's first impression of him, and he might as well make it a good one. The other men, he knew, were going to dress similarly, as if to show their power as a matched set.
Last, as always, came the gloves. They were a dark brown leather lined in silk, designed to both match his uniform and fit well to his hands. He wondered if she would find it passing strange that he wore gloves to eat at dinner. Then again, considering the Lady's origin, it was a wonder if she would find anything passing strange. The descriptions he had read of Sol and the Lunar Kingdom over these past few days had given him the impression that it was some sort of Space Sidhe, an overhead mound kingdom with miracles and horrors around every corner, delights and devilry to defy and inspire the imagination.
/And to think,/ he thought, that little curve tugging at the corners of his mouth again, /we are the wild ones, the untamed beasts, to them./
A good thought to keep in mind as he went to meet this Lady. She might speak well, be friendly seeming, and make the right motions at the right time, but she was still a Lunar. She had been raised steeped in the idea that they were nothing but mad men down here. It was an idea he could, if necessary, use to his advantage, provided he allowed a little of his own sharpness to show at the right times.
He was, as he had been told so many times, quite good at sharp.
He smoothed his gloves over each other, then smoothed it along the lines of his clothing. He was about to adjust himself again when an internal chime went off, signaling that dinner was soon to begin.
Time, then, to go dine with the Lady.
He was a few minutes early to the dinner table, allowing him to get a good seat. She was--as was good and proper--a few minutes late, though he wasn't sure if that was her inclination or because Zoisite had been the one to escort her downstairs. She had obviously changed--good; she had found the luggage that had come through after her--and had at least washed her face, for it shown with a scrubbed light. Her step was indeed light but sure as she moved into the room, and when Zoisite pulled a chair out for her, she thanked him with grace and sat with ease.
She so far fit all the things his men had reported on.
Only, it seemed, they had glossed over one important detail.
The Lady was freaking /gorgeous./
Perhaps it was because they had assumed Kunzite would know that the Sidhefolk of the sky were always beautiful. Perhaps it was something everyone assumed of the Lunars. Perhaps they'd thought that having the title "goddess" was enough of a clue for anyone. Yet, despite knowing all of these possibilities, it had not occurred to Kunzite that the Lady would be anything but standard in looks. After all, she was a warrior, wasn't she? Her steps showed that, and he could see the clean strength in her hands and wrists from here. Perhaps she would be a little beautiful to them because of her exoticness, but not--no, no, nothing like this.
Hair of gold. Not just a shiny blonde, like Jadeite, but really like cloth of gold flowing from her head, complete with a crown of light encircling it. A fair, almost heart-shaped face. A mouth that seemed as if it'd been just kissed full. Skin that looked too soft, as if inviting a touch. A body that, though clad in a fairly staid gown in soft blue, had obvious curves.
And her hands. Bare, deceptively soft looking, but to his eyes, obviously strong. Lean, shapely fingers that seemed fit for sewing or playing strings, yet nevertheless, he felt were familiar with a knife. Wrists that, when she turned, displayed strong sinew, but without the ranginess to be found in his own. She had the hands of a Lady and the hands of a warrior all in one, and it was this that made him think that perhaps the appellation "goddess" had more truth to it than they had previously supposed.
Truly a lovely creature, worthy of the fey realm she had come from.
Truly, it did not bode well for their mission.
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