The Price of Dignity

By Ryu Niiyama

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon and I'm sure one of these days Naoko Takeuchi is going to order a hit out on me for abusing her characters.

This is a one shot... no character death/attempted character death this time around but as all my one shots go...It ain't happy. Sorta future so not exactly AU…also read the author's notes at the end…

She is beautiful.

The moment those words flash upon my mind I am struck by how woefully inadequate they are. Ethereal, breathtaking...there are no words within the grasp of the twelve various languages at my disposal capable of describing the absolute glorious wonder that is her existence. She is a goddess made flesh...and if she would but bestow her favor upon me I would spend the rest of my life proving to her that my love would never falter, never waver; that my passion would burn for her until I could no longer draw breath. I clasped her smaller hands in mine, noting fingers slightly calloused from years of flowing over keyboards and wielding scalpels.

Though I still fear the power she holds over me, I meet her eyes, those soulful depthless pools of azure. Her gaze has hardened over the years; the gentle strength somewhat harsher and the innocent unwavering trust and determination eroded to weary reservation. My soul mourns these changes and for a moment I wonder what role did I play personally in putting those demons in those beloved eyes. Yet despite these changes she is still the one, the only one I could ever, would ever love.

And I pray that somewhere in her heart she still feels the same for me.

I pull her hands to my chest, above the swell of my breasts and hold them against my heart. I want, I need her to feel it beating as I tell her the truth. As I tell her of my foolishness and my pride, as I lament the mistakes I've made, as I beg her not to complete this fool's errand. I tell her of my love for her; a love that never waned, never faltered, even when I turned my back on her. I beg her to forgive me for denying her once and then abandoning her after I'd realized her worth to me. I plead with her to understand and to forgive, to let me try again. I know now what I want, what I need is her and only her.

Stars above, if only she'll let me prove it.

I step closer, still whispering my devotion; willing, praying for her to understand as I reach out a hand and caress her cheek. Her hands ball into fists beneath the hand over hers and she turns away from me forlornly. She shakes her head softly, her silken azure hair hiding her eyes as she looks at the floor near my feet. Though she refuses to meet my gaze, her words are absolute, unwavering with icy clarity. She does not trust me, and she will not, can not allow me into her heart once again. I struggle to keep my grip on her hand even as her words, drown me and dash me upon the jagged rocks of her rejection. I plead, my normally lyrical contralto breaking with my despair. I know she still loves me…for she has not denied me entirely. At the end of my soul rending plea, her gaze turns to mine. My breath catches in my throat as her eyes harden into those of a woman I've never met, almost all remnants of the woman I love vanishing like the ephemeral winds.

What remained in eyes as hard as diamonds, was love, soul consuming and absolute. Yet it was a love without forgiveness, a passion without trust… a love that could only hurt and maim as it too sustained wounds. I knew with a painful certainty that there was nothing I could say, nothing that I could do to convince her of my love. For she knew, she understood, and she returned it, passion for passion, desire for desire, need for need. Yet her eyes declared to me that despite that, never again would she yield her heart to me, never again would she allow me close.

She loved me with all her heart and soul, and she hated me for it.

I could not halt my body's reaction as I gasped and stepped back, releasing her from my grasp. She followed my backpedal swiftly and grasped my neck, her delicate fingers tangling lightly in my chestnut locks as she pulled my head down. Her lips met mine in a kiss unlike anything I'd ever experienced. Her passion crested like a wave and crashed into me, drowning me, freeing me even as her rage froze my broken heart in my breast. Her kiss was designed to punish as much as it ravished my soul, lips I had not tasted in years making love to me even as they crucified me. I clutched her close even as I wished to push her away, wanting to convince her, to overpower her hatred with my love… to avail upon her heart my sincerity. Yet I had no chance, she refused to relinquish control and she took me in that kiss, telling my heart, my soul that I would belong to her always...and that she no longer wanted me. A groan of purest pleasure and purest pain emanated from my soul and she swallowed my offering eagerly, giving nothing in return. Finally, after an eternity, she pulled away, shoving roughly against my shoulders as she turned from my slack embrace and left me to my solitary anguish.

It was only the grace of my training that allowed me to return to my room before despair consumed me whole. I don't remember much of what happened in the hours that followed, and perhaps that was a blessing. I don't remember sitting on the edge of a hotel bed too small for my tall frame. I don't remember drawing my knees to my chest and rocking back and forth in the dark, my mind, my soul trying desperately to keep me sane. I don't remember the tears that flowed steadily from my amethyst eyes, or the scream, so soul shattering that my vocal chords did not have the ability to express it silently filling the room with my pain. I don't remember finally, blessedly falling unconscious as I drained myself mind, body and soul.

I do however remember waking up the next morning, my head, my body and my heart aching. I do remember forcing my broken form into the shower, refusing to cry tears that I hadn't realized my body could no longer shed. I do remember forcing myself to tame my despondent form into flawless perfection before leaving my room and walking to the reception room.

So now I find myself in a room of glorious white, family and friends all around me. And she, she is resplendent, exquisite in a dress of pale crystalline blue and white... the colors of her station, the colors of her soul. Her face is serene and I can see no one but her, her silken veil doing little to distract from her ethereal beauty. She comes to the appointed place and her eyes shine with adoration and loyalty, as she reaches out a delicate gloved hand…

Yet I am not the one to grasp it.

The world spins and I watch him take her hand, his form pristine and immaculate in a tuxedo of white, emerald and gray… the colors of his station, of the power he wields over me. I watch him smile lovingly as she vows her life and her love to him and only him, and I hear his words as he promises the same. I watch his effeminate face slide into a jubilant smile as he is proclaimed her husband. I watch him sweep back his cloak and take her into his arms before he kisses her, all those around me swooning at a sight they deem romantic.

I struggle not to retch.

I struggle not to scream as they turn amidst the showers of confetti and congratulations. For a second his pale emerald eyes meet mine and he smiles. I struggle not to strike him as I see that smile. It is a charming smile, it is a smile of pure malice and hatred…it is a gloating smile. He knows who I am and what I desire most in this world…he knows for he will guard it with his life. He knows his victory, and his eyes tell me so, for he will never let her go. He also knows that he has no need to guard her jealously and his eyes tell me so, for she will never leave him.

Then his eyes are no more, they have left this place, to begin their lives anew as husband and wife. Slowly, finally there are none but three of us left in this room of sickening, blinding, glorious white. I feel my mouth become as ash and finally, I can stand no more. I clench my fists and my head slams back, my long auburn infused locks falling about my face and shoulders. I scream, I scream my anguish and my pain, I scream my regret and my anger, and I scream my love. My powers echo and reverberate in my terrible anguish and my soul screams along with my body. For one moment I am a goddess, of vengeance, of hatred and of sweet painful longing. For one moment my thoughts are free of duty and obligation and I knew that I had the strength, the will to flair my wings and sweep upon them like a vengeful valkyrie. For one moment I had the will to take that which was mine and slay any who opposed me.

I drop to my knees like a broken marionette as that moment of power and clarity passes me by, leaving only a broken woman in its wake. The tears that follow are unwelcome as is the belated understanding that I have no one to blame but myself. Those that bow to hubris will be shattered by love, be it god or man. The dreams that I pushed aside for the comfort of duty dance and writhe as they burn in a final torturous death, their cold bony fingers digging into what is left of my shattered soul. I see noting, hear nothing, feel nothing but this cold bleak emptiness. The solitude I had once so cherished has become a bleak twilight, a fading realm of shadows and specters.

I do not hear the simultaneous sighs on either side of me, do not feel the gentle hands that coax me to my feet. I do not notice my arms being set upon shoulders of varying height, nor do I feel the warm hands that perch upon my abdomen, holding me steady. I do not hear Yaten's hurt, angry tears nor do I feel the press of Seiya's lips in my hair. I do not see as I am lead from glorious light into haunting, cloying darkness.

I love Taiki and Ami, I truly do. However I don't by any stretch of the imagination believe that their courtship would be easy in a realistic sense. Not because they wouldn't want it to be but because they wouldn't let it be. Taiki (and to some extent the rest of the starlights) is too scarred, too jaded and too stubborn to trust her heart in its entirety. Ami while strong emotionally would not push Taiki and would be to shy to demand Taiki's heart and trust.

Now to summarize… This is an emotion piece from Taiki's perspective. Not long after the starlights left Taiki returned and in time became romantically involved with Ami. Despite her real love for Ami Taiki's sense of duty/pride crop up and she leaves Ami telling herself that she is weak for loving the water senshi, returning to kinmoku. Ami of course is heart broken but in time meets Zoisite's reincarnated form and begins anew with him. Taiki returns upon hearing they will be married. I'm thinking about doing a piece from Ami's perspective…let me know what you think.

Your friendly neighborhood Dragon

R. Niiyama