Hey guys! It's been a while, I know, but I've been struck with inspiration lately. XD
I haven't written SeiMako in a while, but after certain things inspiring me, I've been wanting to try and write this multi-chaptered story. It's not my typical setting, but I was just so heavily inspired, that I couldn't help it! XD anyway just a warning: it's an AU that's not quite common - if anyone's played a game called Dynasty Warriors or Warriors Orochi, then that's the type of AU you're looking at: a sort of feudal fantasy Asia.
Warning: Fantasy and Feudal AU; rare pairings [most obvious one is SeiMako]
Inspiration/s:
- The Emperor and the Nightingale by Hans Christran Andersen
- "Nightingale" by Yanni
- Warriors Orochi/Dynasty Warriors
- The Tale of Despereaux by Kate DiCamillo
Hope you enjoy~
"How is he, doctor?" the silver-haired youth asked anxiously. His pale blue eyes were glimmering with concern.
"Brother…" the auburn-haired girl piped up. The sleeves of her kimono were drooping over her little hands as she asked as politely as she could. "Can I see him, please? Can I see big brother?"
The old man sadly shook his head as he solemnly looked down at the two youngsters that were anxiously waiting outside of the regal room. He had silently closed the great scarlet doors behind him so as to maintain the quiet atmosphere that was inside the room he left. "I apologize, young princess, but your brother is still quite ill." Catching the grey-haired youth's baby blues, the warning look on his face told him that there was more to be added to the description.
So for that, the young man nodded, "I-I see. Miss Mei, would you like to go and see the palace cook? I'm sure that he's eager to have you visit him."
The little girl looked highly unsure and rather unconvinced from what the older boy said, but she gave a reluctant nod before walking away – one of the hand-servants accompanying her upon seeing the grey-haired boy's nod.
Once they both left out of earshot and were well out of sight, he turned to the old doctor. "The young princess is no longer here, so…" licking his lips, he questioned nervously, "How is the Emperor, doctor? Is he really-"
The man nodded solemnly; his grey, bushy brows furrowed down to a hardened scowl, "He's still gravely ill, Nitori. And I'm afraid…his condition isn't improving at all. Not in the slightest."
The young man, Nitori, deflated upon the news reaching his ears. Biting his bottom lip, he shook his head, "B-but…this doesn't even make sense! His imperial Majesty was never this sick before! And he was in perfect health before all of this, too! He was perfectly healthy! H-how…how could he have become this ill and so quickly, too?"
The doctor's eyes flashed with sympathy, "It is a complete mystery even to me. But what is most certain right now is that His Highness is struck with a rather fatal illness to the point that he cannot leave his own bed. Every breath is haggard and ragged, his head is heavily perspired, and he is becoming paler and paler as the days continue on. His brow is also scrunched in severe pain…I truly have never seen an illness quite like this before myself."
"What else is wrong with him, doctor?" Nitori questioned imploringly. "Please, tell me."
"I understand that you are his scribe and Lord Chamberlain, Nitori," the elderly medic said in a tone too calm for the youth's liking. "But you must know that the details of a patient's condition are reserved only for the knowledge of the patient's family members. In this case, only the royal family has the right to know what is happening to the Emperor. Most certainly, we cannot allow word to spread quickly about how serious His Highness' illness is."
"B-but…" Nitori shuffled in his spot restlessly before he bowed his head down low. "You and I know perfectly well that the Emperor took to the throne just two years ago upon his father's death. And the Queen as well as the Emperor's older sister have gone overseas to a neighbouring land, too."
"Indeed," the doctor agreed with a curt nod. "I am still genuinely amazed at everything he's done thus far. It is not easy to continue from the death of a parent. Much more pressure is added especially due to the fact that that very parent has left behind a whole legacy that must be carried out, continued on and thrived right on his shoulders. Yet still, our young Emperor has managed to do everything well in all due time in such an efficient manner. At the age of eighteen and with the eyes of a hawk, too!"
"He manages everything here with a fine-toothed comb mostly by himself: the palace, the village, the people…" Nitori said sorrowfully. "Simply because it's the responsibility of the Emperor, he told me once. All of the people in the village are frantic and worry for him, too. What will the Queen and Miss Jun say when they both come back to all of this?" looking up to see that the doctor seemed very silent on the matter, the blue-eyed boy added, "Hopefully he'll be better by the time that happens. His Majesty should be back to perfect health, right, doctor?"
However, seeing the man's eyes narrow and his bushy moustache droop slightly, Nitori almost faltered back. However, the old medic responded quietly, "Yes. Hopefully it'll pass with time and with proper rest and medication." Since the boy with him now looked totally disheartened from his tone and far less than good news, the doctor spoke up, "Come now, Nitori. You told the young princess to go see the palace cook, am I correct? Maybe we should check on her and possibly have some green tea ourselves to soothe our restless minds. We can only pray for the Emperor's condition to improve until a proper medicine can be found or he just gets out of it."
Nitori nodded, "Yeah…that sounds nice." Feeling a hand go on his shoulder and gently lead him away, the silver-haired youth couldn't help but give one last glance at the large doors that led to the room of his ruler.
'I hope that his Majesty will be alright…'
If one were to come into the Emperor's chambers, one would first be in awe of the sheer grandeur. The whole room seemed painted with various shades of red – the walls consisted also of panels that told of what appeared to be many stories with neatly crafted calligraphy written on the sides of it and elegantly poised people with long arms and craning necks. The floor was spotless with a crimson rug that had embroidered tigers of golden silk embedded in it from a finely crafted hand. The ceiling consisted of what appeared to be a great phoenix stretching out its mighty wings as well as accompanied with what appeared to be a mighty dragon – its great claws holding a ball and its gaping jaws open as it seemed to be twisting its elongated body.
A folding screen however separated the very back of the room where the bed lay, with the door – so that only silhouettes were viewable among the dim sunlight and if the candle was lit nearby. A table consisted of what appeared to be an assortment of scrolls, and beside it lay a calligraphy brush whose elegant tip appeared to not have met with black ink for a while.
The bed itself was massive – huge enough to fit possibly three people. The sheets were scarlet with intricately designed patterns consisting of fans weaving around its surface. There were a couple of cushions consisting of a variety of colours as well, however most of them were noticeably in complete disarray as the person who lay inside the bed panted harshly before giving a loud cough.
Rolling over in his bed, the young man who lay there was on his back, eyes squeezed shut as a drop of sweat trickled down the side of his head down to his chin. Gasping for breath, he swallowed every sweet intake of air as his heart constricted painfully: it felt as if bony fingers had inched right onto it and began stretching and pulling it mercilessly to see if it would form into a variety of shapes like what clay does. That saying so, even swallowing soon became difficult – a large lump gathered in his thick neck, and though every dose of air that entered his body was sweet, a snap of pain would blossom soon after as he felt more and more sore from his throat.
Giving a hacking cough, he quickly covered at his mouth with a tightened fist before hunching his muscular figure over into a tight ball. His body was heaving and wracking into a coughing fit as he tried to calm his body down. However, his own being didn't seem keen on relenting any time soon. His orange red tresses were drooping down wearily with his own body and parts of it were slicked with sweat. When his eyes began to squint, even he noticed that his once bronze skin had suddenly become a shade or two paler than how it normally was.
Once the fit had finally settled down, that was when his chest tightened even more – worse than ever; as if the swords of an entire army had stabbed right through the flesh. As a result, his body carefully unravelled itself as he this time lay sprawled out in his bed while continuing to drink in the air through his nose and mouth.
Panting exhaustedly again, needles pricked at his joints and his back was becoming stiff all due to fatigue and not exiting out of his bed for quite a while. But picking himself up seemed to be a difficult feat itself as his legs seemed to refuse to work for some frighteningly peculiar reason he couldn't think of a logical explanation for. More sweat simply flowed down the sides of his head as this time the pain decided to pierce at his head – almost breaking through his skull to reach the softer tissue that lay underneath. The pain was enough for him to grit and gnash his teeth as well as stiffen his broad shoulders.
Shakily, he felt around to obtain the water that was just beside him on the little wooden table.
When the cool liquid slid down his aching throat, his whole being seemed to calm down a bit more. Though he still coughed and felt his chest continue to throb as well as his cheeks heating up, the pain that was attacking his head was slowly subsiding down to nothing. Also, the pain wasn't as highly unbearable as it was before – he was able to sit up for a bit and finally crack open an eye before having his other one slowly join it.
Orbs of hollow, listless gold glass simply gazed down at the silken sheets for a good while in contemplation before he carefully tilted his head up to peer at the window that was right close to his side. The window was wide open – giving him a beautiful view of the thick forest that led to the mighty mountaintops that were so high, that their very tips disappeared through the clouds. He could also see parts of the palace from here, and there was a small, shimmering pond.
That was when he heard chirping.
Giving a sudden jolt in his spot, his head immediately snapped over to where the source of the sound was as he frantically began looking around. Finding it, his golden eyes rested on what appeared to be just a pheasant. Its plumage as golden as his eyes, and the bright colours honestly beginning to blind him.
His whole figure deflated upon seeing that, and for that, his once expectant expression boiled down to a look of melancholy and disappointment before his eyes fixed down onto his hands. His large, callous palms were starting to quiver and tremble as if he were in the middle of the coldest and harshest blizzard.
It was very strange how his body seemed to move by itself now.
He surveyed the golden pheasant a bit more as it chirped and preened at its feathers flamboyantly before deciding to take off and fly into the forest. For that, his eyes followed it dully as his stare stopped onto the great treetops. Eventually the bird was out of sight once it disappeared into the leaves. He wasn't sure for how long he was staring at the forest for, but what was certain was that by the time he had had enough, night had already descended upon the land. The moon was out glowing its soothing, radiant rays down on him as the diamond stars twinkled on a sheet of black.
Lying back on the bed, he shut his eyes as his great chest heaved up and down before he grasped at his heart again.
Hearing the doors open, a soft and familiar voice called timidly, "Your Majesty, it's me…" the footsteps that followed became louder and practically throbbed achingly in his head as they stopped at his bedside. "I brought you your dinner. It's soup. Shiitake dashi to be precise. The doctor recommended that you take it."
He wanted to express his thanks to the speaker, really, however when he tried to open his mouth a little wider, a few harsh coughs ended up escaping. His own voice seemed to have disappeared.
A small sigh reached his ears before the sound of china settling down on the wooden table came next. Then, hearing something scratch as well as a slight hiss, he knew that from how the room was becoming dimly lit, that a candle was ignited. The footsteps came back, but this time, they grew quieter and quieter as they reached the doors to his bedroom. The voice also said quietly, "I hope you get well soon, your Imperial Majesty…really, I do…"
And finally, the doors creaked to an echoing shut.
Everyone was worried about him, that he most certainly knew. However his whole body was subjected to this accursed illness of unknown origin. Even the doctor wasn't so sure with what he was struck with. He could hear them whispering outside about his condition, but when he tried to strain his ears, he could only hear unintelligible garble, though he rationalized that it was probably his own head spinning that caused him to hear and think that way.
Was he going to die? Was this illness going to claim his life? Will he die young? Though usually a person who was brimming with optimism and who typically looked at the brighter side of life rather than focus on the negative, even he himself wasn't so sure anymore…
He just hoped that he could get some sleep soon so the pain would momentarily leave him as he entered his dreams. That was the only source of comfort he could find nowadays.
Once he tried to relax his body and sleep took mercy on his sickly being, he found himself no longer lying on his bed anymore in his robes. Instead, he found himself in the Imperial garden amongst all the softly colourful flowers and the several ponds. Dressed in a golden yukata adorned with patterns that consisted of leaping koi and thriving lilies, a sense of tranquility settled upon his being. Stepping on one of the small bridges that flowed over some of the larger bodies of water, he came to a stop underneath a tree with thick branches and mottled leaves.
And on the very top of it, he could see a bird.
A bird with feathers that were dappled with olive green and plain brown. Its feet settled on the branch, turning its head, he was met by a pair of beautiful grass green eyes that blinked at him curiously before opening its beak.
And that was when a beautiful chirp of greeting reached his ears along with a gentle male voice greeting him hello.
For that, the Emperor couldn't help but give a big, bright grin at the bird perched there. "Nightingale, what do you have to sing this time?" he asked as he placed a hand on the tree's massive trunk.
The nightingale suddenly dipped his head close to one of his wings; if he were human, the redheaded Emperor was certain that the bird would be blushing by now. "Oh, I cannot really think of something, your Majesty," he tweeted back sadly, causing the Emperor to frown at the tone. "I tried, though. I really did."
However, the young man simply gave a good-natured laugh after hearing the bird twitter, "Why apologize for that? It's nothing to apologize about, really. I don't care if it's new; I just like hearing you sing." Fixing his position so he stood right underneath the branch the bird was in, he stretched his head back so he was looking right from underneath, "And there's no need for you to be so formal around me! You know I don't like that. Just call me Seijuurou."
The bird seemed even more sheepish than before. His head curled a bit more closely to his wing before giving a small nod, "A-ah, yes, okay. Very well then, Emperor Seijuurou."
Seijuurou inwardly sighed at how he was being addressed, but either way, he watched closely and eagerly as he strained his ears upon seeing the nightingale's beak stretch open…
…but as soon as that happened, a rooster's crow was replaced.
And soon enough, the pain slammed right down on his body again – though it grew tenfold.
His lips now dry, the young Emperor slowly cracked his eyes open before gazing miserably up at the ceiling – particularly at the phoenix that was raising its elegant neck. Turning his head slowly as his mouth began to open from his pained panting picking up, he could see that the sun was slowly moving up from its spot at the horizon – signalling that it was a new day.
A new day for him to feel the pain entangle him in its cruel grip.
'Damn…' he thought to himself as his eyes fluttered to a shut. He decided that more sleep sounded like a brilliant idea – after all, if it was sleep that took away the pain, then sleep sounded the best.
Besides, he wasn't able to hear the nightingale sing yet, and that was the best part every single time he slept and entered the surreal land of dreams.
'I miss hearing you. I wonder if I'll be able to hear you again.'
Luckily, sleep came faster this time; granting him mercy again from what his body was undergoing at the moment.
Some magic will be involved, however that'll come later. The next chapters will be more of a throwback to the past on how Emperor Seijuurou met the nightingale in the first place. I feel bad for making him really sick, though. :(
Jun is from milkcustard's SeiMako/Seikoto fic Live a Little. I like the idea of Seijuurou being surrounded by strong and somewhat empowering women in his family. He officially has a younger sister since in one of the Samezuka Drama CD's he tells Rin that he's been taking "the little sister" to the movies, and it's revealed that it's his own little sister. However, I've been seeing the name Mei pop up a couple of times, so I'm using that. XD
Anyway, yes this will actually be my first Free! multi-chapter story. Not sure how long it will be, but we'll see, shall we? ;)
Peace out!
- Hebi-Kazechi-10