The Princess and the Pea -- } ~*~ { -- Second Half

[bclar]

Title: The Princess and the Pea, Second Half
Rating: G

First Half (including Header)

-- }  ~*~  { --

Meanwhile, the king and the queen discussed the matter of the prince and the princesses and everything related. Nino had calmed down by now, even though her husband didn’t know what exactly made her do so. But since he also wasn’t sure about what upset her that much he kind of expected that. She had been nagging about how female servants were untrustworthy, and then started bitching about how stupid musicals were, so artificial, with cheap songs, horrible sparkly costumes, and the people on stage were mostly not able to sing. When Ohno whole-heartedly agreed and admitted he liked a single singer with a guitar a thousand times better she suddenly calmed down, became all soft and cuddly and ate her breakfast. It was the third tray - the contents of the first one were being scraped off from the painting of Ohno’s great-grandfather in the hallway just opposite the queen’s bedroom door the very moment, and the second lay somewhere on the bottom of the pond beneath their window.

Nino sighed contently as she lay with her head on her husband’s lap. He was sitting on the chaise longue in their bedroom and ran his fingers through her hair. She cherished these moments of intimacy, these small scenes reminding her of the fact that they were a married couple, for many years now, but still not inured against the other’s touch.

“Do you think Aiba will ever have this? Like we have?”

The king shrugged. “It’s not like he had all too much possibilities to meet people up to now. Maybe we should send him abroad for a while. A few new experiences could do him good, and he has way too much energy anyway. How about the East Wood?”

“I don’t want to send him abroad. Even if it was just, let’s say, six weeks, imagine him all alone in a foreign country, where he doesn’t speak the language and all he can do is write letters that may never reach us.”

“But he gets lonely. He hasn’t missed having friends until now, but he is already beginning to suffer from his solitude, even if he doesn’t notice himself yet. He spends a lot of time with his pets recently.”

“Yeah, I know. Well, maybe he’ll get to like one of the princesses.” Nino made a face. Ohno chuckled.

“They’re not too likeable, are they?”

“Phh,” snorted the queen. “They’re stupid and boring. Each and every one. Saw that Junnoko? Her dresses were ridiculous. She’s far too much of a girl for Aiba, he could never handle her. Shonoko seems intelligent, but that book she read… I didn’t understand a word. Couldn’t she have read something in our language? Isn’t it impolite to read a foreign language book in front of the ruling family? And have you seen her arms? Like some blacksmith’s. No grace at all.”

“Princess Satoko was spacing out the whole time. She really seems a little dumb and too fond of food for my liking. And Masako was lively, but having a daughter-in-law that plays the shawm, and maybe practices day after day after day, I couldn’t stand that. I hate that nasal sound. I prefer instruments that can give you chords and a good rhythm instead of a melody, if you know what I mean.”

“Yes. Like guitars.”

“Like guitars,” endorsed the king. Nino smiled and took his left hand, the one that was unoccupied with his scalp, in his own and caressed it.

“And Kazuko is so depressing. I bet she had to search long for a twelve-person-piece with all of them dying dramatic deaths in just fifteen minutes time. And she seems to be naughty, too. Oh, and have you seen her dress? Completely out of fashion and patched more than once. Seems to be a cheapskate.”

“If you say so, my dear.”

The queen chuckled at this address and blew a kiss at the elegant index finger she was holding.

“Aiba isn’t too fond of them either, so I guess you won’t have to worry about a girl playing the shawm while you take your afternoon nap.”

“God bless. But by the looks of it, our son has taken a liking to that Sakurai.”

“Sakurai. Hm. I’m not too sure about him yet. Him being a princess? I highly doubt that. And then this weird hobby of his. Such a geek.”

“But he seems to be a nice person. Very polite and intelligent. And he’s pretty enough to represent the country on official occasions.”

“Wait, wait,” Nino said, turning her head upwards so she could look at Ohno. “Talking about marriage already? We don’t even know if he lied about his family background. Isn’t it a little too convenient? I mean, the whole country knows we’re looking for a princess to marry Aiba, and just that night, bang, he appears on our doorstep and pulls off the damsel-in-distress-scam. I say we’ve got to be careful.” With determination, she returned her focus to the task on hand.

“Of course. First thing I did this morning was sending someone to find out whether Sakurai’s story is true. I just haven’t had the chance to tell you yet.”

The queen looked up again. “Really? What did they find out?”

“They’ll come back tomorrow. Sakurai’s family seems to live at the coast, quite a distance from here, and I asked for first hand information.”

“That means he’ll stay another night?” Nino grinned. “That’s good. I owe him for breaking into my garden and my dining room. Princess? Ha. Don’t make me laugh.”

-- }  ~*~  { --

The queen’s plan was to strike after dinner. During the meal Aiba and Sakurai talked animatedly, bursting into giggles every now then and earning angry glances from the princesses. They seemed to have become friends during their stay. Princess Kazuko was feeding Princess Satoko roasted boar, and the Princesses Masako and Shonoko were listening eagerly for fashion tips from Princess Junnoko. The queen was vexed again, this time because she had problems beating her new game and when she wanted to try once more this afternoon, it was nowhere to be found, but as the meal progressed she became outright jolly. Only her husband knew that this had to do with the heap of mattresses she personally dragged through the castle just a little while ago.

When everyone was full and satisfied, the queen gave Sakurai a feral smile, and Sakurai grew a little smaller as he saw that. He had a vague impression that this would lead to something he wouldn’t appreciate.

“Princess Sakurai, I must excuse myself,” started the queen. Everyone sat up all attentive. Something was about the happen. “With so many guests at the moment,” she made a gesture towards the princesses and their governesses, “we haven’t got any spare guest room, and I am really sorry for the inconveniences that come along with sleeping in a storage room.”

Aiba frowned. So far the queen said nothing new. There really were no guest rooms left, so Sakurai had spent the last night in a room storing old games and consoles the queen replaced by newer versions. The servants had hastily placed an unused bed from the attic in the small chamber. But he knew his mother was up to something, and so he listened carefully to what she said to his friend next.

“Especially,” continued the queen, “for a princess.”

The five princesses giggled at this, the king looked up from the fly-fishing lure he had found in his pocket, and Aiba’s frown deepened.

“Well,” said Sakurai hesitantly, “I understand that, of course. After all, it was me who came uninvited. So please don’t worry about this. I’m perfectly fine with that room.”

“Oh, but I insist on at least making it more comfortable as is your due. I personally took care of making your room fitting for a princess. Do you want to see it?”

“I’m honoured,” Sakurai said helplessly. The queen smiled once again and rose, and as she did so everyone followed and the whole party headed towards Sakurai’s room. When they arrived the queen turned to Sakurai and laid a hand on the door knob. “I hope you like it, Princess Sakurai.”

Sakurai was too frightened to say anything, so he just gulped and nodded. And then the queen opened the door.

The room was unrecognisable. What had been a cramped, but clean storage chamber was now a just as cramped and clean, but far more pink room. There were pink curtains, and pink cloth was draped over all surfaces. The cloth came in all shades, designs and materials: from monochromatic purple velvet over rose patterned silk and checked cotton up to delicate pinkish lace. There were heaps of teddy bears, all dressed in frilly pink gowns with big pink bows on their heads, covering each and every surface including the floor. And the worst was the bed.

Where there had been a normal, average sized bed before now was a gigantic stack of mattresses, at least 20 of them lying upon another, forming a high tower that was to be climbed with a ladder, decorated with more pink ribbons and bows, leaning conveniently against the stack. Each and every one of them was covered in a pink bed sheet, and on top there was a mountain of bedclothes, all in pink as well.

Princess Junnoko gave a small whimper and bumped into Aiba in front of her as she instinctively took a step towards the pinkness. Aiba stood frozen behind an equally frozen Sakurai. The queen grinned. And then Princess Kazuko burst out laughing. She could barely stand and had to hold onto Princess Satoko to prevent from collapsing. One after the other, the princesses began to laugh along, and the few servants who came along to witness the queen’s latest prank (that was, thank goodness, not aimed at them) joined in as well. Aiba gave Sakurai a blow so he stumbled into his room, followed him and threw the door shut behind them. It wasn’t thick enough to silence the laughter from outside, but at least it hid their faces.

“Sakurai…” said Aiba. Sakurai said nothing. He still stared at the tower of mattresses. “Sakurai, I’m sorry, I didn’t know she had planned that.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” said Sakurai weakly. “It’s not your fault. And after all, your mother was really inventive.”

Aiba was relieved to find out that Sakurai didn’t seem to mind being laughed at too much. Nevertheless, the expression on his face still was fearful, and so Aiba tried to lift his mood. He picked up one of the small teddy bears and waved it in front of his chest. “They’re kind of cute, aren’t they?”

“Aiba,” said Sakurai, “have I mentioned I’m uncomfortable with heights?”

Aiba looked at him, and then at the pink tower. “Oh,” he said. They both fell silent for a while.

“Well then, let’s start. I’ll climb up and throw the mattress on the very top on the ground, so you can sleep on it.” Aiba made a step towards the ladder but was immediately stopped by Sakurai’s hand on his sleeve.

“Wait. You’ll climb that? No way.”

“But that’s okay, really. I don’t have a problem with heights. I liked climbing trees when I was younger. Well, I still like it now, but my parents forbade it after I once fell and dislocated…”

“You won’t climb that.” Sakurai, despite his pale face, sounded very determined as he interrupted Aiba’s description of injuries.

“But then you’ll have nowhere to sleep!”

“Oh, I can sleep on the ground, that’s no problem. For one night that will work, and tomorrow we can think of something.”

“I’m a very good climber, I assure you, I won’t fall…”

“But what if you do? Look around you. There are sharp edges beneath the cloth. I don’t want you to fall and hit your head and die.”

Aiba didn’t know what to answer, and Sakurai blushed again. And then Aiba felt the urge to be closer to him. Suddenly it wasn’t enough to just stand there, with Sakurai’s hand gripping his sleeve. But as strong and odd as this feeling was, Aiba wasn’t sure as to how he could satisfy it. The closest he had ever felt was when he was with his animals, so he did as he would then: he ran a hand through Sakurai’s hair. His fingers vanished between the dark brown strands that felt just as soft and silky as they looked. Aiba found he rather liked the sensation. When he focused on Sakurai’s face again his friend had closed his eyes and stood very still, but in a good way, as if he enjoyed the caress. Aiba took the chance to look at this by now familiar and yet still so fascinating face without being seen, to really look for the first time. He saw the elegant curved line of his closed eyes and the eyebrows above them. He took in the way the cheekbones and jaw framed his face. He gazed at the full lips, perfect in colour, and the still pinkish skin that seemed as tender as a butterfly’s wings. He wanted to know, wanted to experience this pureness, so he entangled his fingers from Sakurai’s hair and touched the skin where it seemed the smoothest: at the small cleft above the mouth. Aiba never really noticed this part of a face, this small, strangely formed rift that formed the upper lip, and wondered why it was there, what was the reason for this small ornament that fit his finger so perfectly. And then his eyes! Aiba thought that they looked like marbles, so round and shiny, and the colour was just perfect, an earthen brown with hints of bronze, like leaves in autumn. He could sink into them, he could watch them for a lifetime and never find the secrets that lay behind them. It took him some time to realise that Sakurai was looking at him. Aiba jerked backwards.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean… mean to… I haven’t…” he stuttered, and he could feel the blood rush to his face. Sakurai shook his head and gave him a careful smile. “It felt good.”

“Oh,” was all Aiba managed. “Really?”

Sakurai nodded. “I’ll show you.” And then Sakurai’s fingers were on Aiba’s face, gently tracing across the plane of his forehead, continuing their journey around the eyes and along the cheekbones, climbing his nose and then Aiba stopped paying attention. He saw nothing, heard nothing and felt nothing except for the warm spot wandering over his skin. From that small spot warm reams floated down his spine and made his limbs tingle, his hands shake and his knees weak. It made him feel helpless and vulnerable, yet it was the best thing he ever experienced. Time ceased to exist as Aiba tried to will all his nerves onto what now was the centre of him, of the world, of being. When the dot vanished Aiba focused and saw Sakurai monitoring his every reaction, unsure but excited, scared and daring at the same time. Aiba sighed contentedly. “That really felt good.”

Sakurai was about to answer when there was a knock at the door. “Prince?”

“Yes?” Aiba was surprised that there were actually other persons in the world. He realised that probably nothing was different from before, that his room was still untidy and grass was still green and the sky still blue, and somehow that felt strange.

“It’s time you leave that room. It doesn’t behove for a prince and a princess to be in the same room for so long when they’re alone and not married to each other.”

Aiba normally listened to his valet, because the servant liked him and never ordered him around without reason, but he really didn’t want to leave.

Sakurai seemed to read his thoughts and took a step backwards. “He’s right. You should go to your room and sleep now. We’ll meet for breakfast again.”

“Oh,” said Aiba. Didn’t Sakurai want him to stay for a while?

But then Sakurai came near again, raised on his toes and, for a split second, so ephemeral that Aiba wasn’t sure if he just imagined it, their lips touched. “Sleep well,” said Sakurai and opened the door.

Aiba blinked, nodded and left. There were lots of things he had to think about tonight.

-- }  ~*~  { --

When Sakurai entered the dining hall the next morning, he got almost as much attention as when he appeared the first time. It was not because he banged the door open, or because he wasn’t looking human. It was because he was obviously dead tired. He wasn’t able to lift his eyes from the carpet, because that would mean he had to raise his read or at least force his eyes lids higher, and those actions needed far more energy that he had. So he just shuffled over to the table where everyone else was already gathered, gave a good-morning-nod instead of a polite greeting and fell on the chair next to Aiba.

The queen smiled. “Princess Sakurai! How was your night? I hope the bed was soft enough for your fragile body.” The princesses snickered at this.

“I fear I didn’t sleep at all tonight, your majesty. Of course you can’t know, but I suffer from a fear of heights, and your kind attempt of making my night comfortable was far more than I was able to bear,” answered Sakurai.

“Didn’t he mention it the first evening?” whispered Princess Masako to Princess Junnoko, but Princess Kazuko shushed them immediately.

“Oh,” said the queen happily, “I’m sorry. So that means you slept on the ground tonight and now your back aches horribly?”

“No, I didn’t sleep at all, your majesty. Not on the ground, not anywhere.”

“It hurts a mother’s heart to hear something like this,” chirped the queen. “I hope you weren’t bored, if you didn’t sleep. Did the teddies keep you company?”

Princess Shonoko could not resist a snort.

“Actually, I found something that diverted me the whole night. You see, I tried to get a mattress out of the stack to put it on the floor and sleep on it, and as I pulled and dragged and shoved my hands between the layers of fabric, I suddenly felt something hard. It was this.” Sakurai help up a small colourful box. “It is a game called ‘Pilgrim’s Exotic Adventures’, and since I had nothing to do, I used one of the computers in the room to play it. It was really interesting. Do you by chance know who the owner of this is? I want to give it back and thank him for the pleasant hours this game presented me with.”

“My P.E.A.!” shrieked the queen. “I’ve been looking for it!” She jumped up, all but ran around the table and grabbed the game from Sakurai. When she held it in her hands, she suddenly looked up. “Wait. What did you say? You played it?”

“I didn’t delete anything, your majesty. All savings are still there for you to continue. I created a new player for me, no need to worry.”

The queen squinted at him. Aiba knew the next thing his mother would do was to complain about how the savings of another player would take up too much saving space. Sakurai apparently guessed something similar, and hastily continued, “You can delete my savings, of course.”

“So,” drawled the queen. “You don’t have the ambition to finish what you started?”

Aiba thought he should have foreseen that. When the queen didn’t like someone, she would twist everything they said around. No one stood a chance against his mother. “Ma,” he started, but the queen gave him a look that made him shut up immediately. “Let Sakurai speak for himself, Aiba. So?” She turned to her prey again, fingers trapping impatiently against the innocent-looking box in her hands.

“But,” stuttered Sakurai, now a lot smaller than when he entered the room, “I did finish it.”

“You WHAT?”

There was silence around the table. Sakurai shrank even more under the queen’s eyes. Aiba made a mental note to study whether it was normal that people’s eyes grew bigger as their bodies grew smaller.

“You finished it?”

Sakurai nodded.

“Really?”

Sakurai nodded again, slower.

“In one night?”

Sakurai didn’t move.

“You,” said the queen. “Show me how.” She grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the exit. Sakurai was far too perplexed and tired to walk properly, so he allowed himself to be pulled along by the energetic queen.

The five princesses, the prince and the king sat at the table and stared at the still swinging door the two disappeared through just seconds ago. Then Aiba jumped up, overthrowing his chair in doing so, and sprinted after them, not without knocking down a flower arrangement and a kitchen boy bringing more scrambled eggs.

He found them in his mother’s gaming room, where she already loaded the game and bombed Sakurai with questions. “How did you manage to upgrade your peasants? I tried everything, but they wouldn’t evolve.”

Sakurai was still overwhelmed with the situation. “I… Peasants… They need a church in their village… and a stack of more than fifteen units of corn, your majesty…”

“Stop the formalities, that takes way to long. I’m Nino.”

“Yes, your m… Nino.”

When Ohno joined them twenty minutes later, a plate with snacks in his hands, he found his wife and Sakurai talking shop and Aiba standing behind them, occasionally shaking his head. Ohno smiled, put the snacks on the table next to his wife, and gave Aiba a sign to leave with him. As they closed the door behind them they looked at each other and smiled, then grinned, and then laughed until their tummies ached.

“Oh my,” said the king, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, and Aiba’s smile widened. Most of the time they spent together was for work, and this family moment, with his father uttering his favourite expression (though he normally used it after eating something good) meant a lot to him.

Without needing to talk about it they strolled down the hallway, in a comfortable, still amused silence, and entered the park. They both liked being outside, breathing the fresh air and being surrounded by nature.

“You don’t have to marry, if you don’t want to,” Ohno suddenly said, breaking the stillness that was only the rustling of their clothes and their footsteps crunching on the gravel. “We want you to be happy. We just thought that you could need someone by your side. You have been lonely far too long now. We won’t force you to marry the next best and take over the kingdom. I’m fine with ruling a while longer, until you find your perfect match.”

It has been a while since Aiba had heard his father speak like this. Mumbling, seemingly not knowing what his next words would be until he said them. When he was talking to diplomats he had a whole different aura, suitable for a king, but Aiba preferred the slurred sentences of the old man beside him by far.

“I don’t know much about marriage. I know it means sharing a room,” said Aiba, and then, remembering what he learned, “and that one can produce children.”

Ohno chuckled. “Marriage means a lot more. To know someone, to never get tired of the other. To trust. To love even the faults the other has. To like how the other looks and moves and smiles. And sharing a room, yes.”

“Then,” Aiba said earnestly, “I think I want to marry Sakurai.”

“Are you sure?” asked Ohno. He wasn’t surprised. Anyone with eyes could see that Aiba and Sakurai were drawn to each other.

Aiba nodded and used his fingers to help himself remembering every point his father mentioned. “I don’t know him for long, but everything I know up to now is good. I can talk to him for hours, and we never run out of things to say. I took him to my pets, and he loves them. He is very polite and uses some strange words, and sometimes is a little slow, and he blushes really often, but I like that on him, too. He is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. And,” Aiba said, raising a sixth finger, “I think I don’t mind sharing a room with him.”

“Well then,” said Ohno. “I think Sakurai would make a great princess-in-law. Did you know that his father has the biggest collection of fly-fishing lures and fishing rods in the country?”

“Really? Has Sakurai told you that?”

“No, I heard about it just his morning. How about we visit his family some time? If you want to marry we should get to know each other first.”

“Oh,” said Aiba suddenly and rammed his heels in the ground where he was standing. “I haven’t asked him if he wants to.”

“You should do that. It would be very impolite to marry him without his agreement,” Ohno said.

“Then I’ll ask him now. I’ll be back in a minute,” said Aiba, before he turned and ran towards the palace. The king’s gaze followed his son until he disappeared in the building, and then he continued his way to the menagerie with a smile on his face. Somehow he was just in the mood to pet bunnies.

“Sakurai!” shouted Aiba as he jerked the door to his mother’s gaming room open. Sakurai seemed to have fallen asleep and jumped awake. Nino was so absorbed in her game that she didn’t show any reaction.

“Yes?” asked Sakurai a little disoriented.

“Sakurai!” shouted Aiba once more.

“Get out!” shouted Nino. “You’re too noisy! Out of here! Both of you!”

Since Sakurai still wasn’t able to follow the command on his own accord, Aiba grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the room and into the garden. Sakurai perked up at the fresh air, and Aiba was glad his friend could walk on his own again, but he saw no reason to let go of the hand in his.

“Sakurai,” Aiba said again.

“Yes?” Sakurai answered again.

“Do you want to marry me?”

“Oh,” said Sakurai. “Why?”

“Because,” Aiba raised the first finger, “everything I know about you is good, and we can talk for hours without running out of things to say, and…”

“Do you love me?” Sakurai broke in.

“I think so,” Aiba said after contemplating about it for a moment.

“I think I love you, too,” Sakurai said, and then he threw his arms around Aiba’s waist, and Aiba was quite sure that meant “Yes” and threw his arms around Sakurai’s shoulders, and they both wore silly grins while they hugged each other. Then Sakurai fell asleep but woke again as Aiba accidentally bumped his new fiancée’s head at the doorframe when he tried to carry him into the palace, and then Sakurai said he would walk on his own. Aiba felt so guilty he didn’t stop him, and instead guided him to his room and made him lie down in own bed. And while Sakurai slept Aiba sat next to him, watching him breathing and dreaming and thought about how he would really like to share a room with Sakurai if that meant he could see him like this every day.

-- }  ~*~  { --

A few months later they married. The five princesses were bridesmaids, because after they got to know Sakurai a little they found him a very nice person. During the ceremony the king and Sakurai’s father traded fly-fishing lures beneath the church bank, and just the moment the priest said something about speaking now or forever holding his peace, the queen shouted “Die!” while looking at the small screen in her hands.

But apart from or maybe just because of these incidents it was the greatest marriage ever seen in history.

-- }  Fin  { --