I'm posting this here until I decide if I want to start over fresh on a new account. I've been falling back into my first fandom a bit, and I had this rolling around in my head. It's incomplete, and I feel it's fair warning to say that it is highly likely to stay that way. This is mostly a venture to get me writing again, and I hope that doesn't show too badly.
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It was a dark and stormy night. Queen Serenity had heard tales that began that way. Earth tales, scary stories her daughter whispered to her friends in the night, under covers. Ones that made them shriek with feigned fear and sincere humor, the noise filling the wing, a sound so warm that no night was ever truly dark. As she sat huddled under her cloak, soaked and cold, she wished she had her daughter's hand to hold. A dark and stormy night indeed. Serenity expected she'd have nothing to laugh about this night.
With quiet dignity as the rain pulled at her cloak and lashed her face under her hood, she looked out over the pier. In the distance she could see the large dry dock, the looming figure of a space ship already settled and empty. A vessel was seaborne, bringing the air ship's occupants across the lake to the palace proper. The lake roiled like a cauldron, wind whipping the water up like the deepest oceans of Earth. It wasn't natural. Knowing who was on the boat as she did, she knew that it was most likely a form of cover. And comfort. She would not begrudge the woman that, even if it did leave her soaked to her undergarments and longing for her bed and a cup of hot tea.
She was at the gangplank before the ship was moored, flanked by half a dozen of her most trusted guards. They'd all been with her a lifetime or more, wise men and women she knew would ask no questions and let nothing slip. The assurance was on the tip of her tongue as her guest emerged from below deck, but the rain picked up fresh, as if the tumult before had been but a warm up for the violent frenzy now. It was almost like razors against the flesh, quick and cold and burning in it's intensity, and Serenity knew that things were so much worse than she'd expected when she'd been awoken by a harried, garbled message half an hour ago.
The woman lurched forward, exhausted by the trip, the storm, the bundle in her arms. She stumbled, once, catching herself and continuing down the plank with a fragile grace. Serenity could barely contain herself, rushing forward and clutching her close, only momentarily stymied by the other woman's parcel. She pulled the woman to her chest, her heart, knocking both their hoods down with the action. Running her hands through thick blue hair until they caught at the nape of a neck, Serenity smiled with no small amount of relief.
"Mercury." The word came out in a breath, not meant to be heard, but it was. The blue haired woman shifted her burden, holding it carefully between their two forms, shielding it from the brunt of the gale around them with their bodies. She turned deep wet eyes on the blonde before her, embracing the comfort that the woman exuded like oxygen from trees or warmth from a fire. The bundle shivered, and Serenity laid gentle hands upon it. She didn't offer to take the tiny form from her tired friend, but she gestured for a guard to fetch any baggage on the ship, dipping her head gratefully when one of accompaniment dutifully acquiesced to the menial task. She quickly led the rest down the dock, trusting that they would keep up.
She did not stop until they'd entered her personal council room, just off from the living wings. Mercury sank into a high backed chair close to the fire without a word, and Serenity dispatched her guards to fetch clean clothing, towels, food and drink. She hated asking them to perform these duties, it was so much like asking panthers to dispatch a mouse. But these things needed done, and from what she could glean from Mercury's message, she was here under the deepest secrecy. Serenity would do her best to protect that, which precluded summoning servants to fetch fresh, dry clothes.
After closing the door quietly, she went over to the slumped woman by the fire. Mercury curled over the body in her arms, for it was that, Serenity could see now. Tiny feet in tiny blue slippers poked from the cloak, and Serenity's heart hitched when she saw what could only be tiny drops of blood dotting the toes of the rich fabric. She dropped to her knees in front of the hunched woman, slipping her hand under the woman's chest to feel for the child swaddled in her arms. Little fingers weakly gripped her hand, and she let out a sigh so deep and shuddering her eyes watered. "What happened Aoi?"
The queen of Mercury uncurled slowly, shifting the figure in her arms until the fabric dropped down to reveal the princess of Mercury, her eyes blinking slow and even at the sudden light. Serenity hadn't seen her in some time, "Since Princess Neptune's eighth birthday, yes?" Mercury nodded, well-versed in her Queen's propensity for half-statements and seemingly cryptic utterances.
Mercury sighed, slipping her arms under the cloak and pushing the cold weight of it further from the trembling form on her lap. The girl was a white-blue, an unhealthy color, and her left arm was held close to her side in a sling fashioned from what looked like pure silk raggedly torn from a larger piece. Her tunic was stained in blood, darker at the neck where it seemed to have pooled and dried, and lighter further down as the rain seeped through her cloak and made it run. The queen of the moon felt a sickness form in her belly, until her insides felt like the bay they'd just left. Bile roiled in her insides as Mercury clutched her daughter close, letting loose a ragged sob into the top of her child's head. Mercury the younger threaded her good hand into her mother's dress, fisting it into the fabric. She looked to be at a loss, and Serenity marveled at how like her mother she was. Young and so empathetic, understanding her mother's upset but knowing no way to comfort her. Mercury sobbed again, pulling the slighter form close and laying a protective hand over a frail neck. The motion served to draw Serenity's gaze, and she turned her head away immediately. There was another makeshift bandage there, distressingly dark. The red of a Martian's uniform, of blood, old and new.
"Aoi. What happened?"
"They've gotten bold." The words were dark, spoken in a voice that sounded like tears and screaming and anger. There was a threat in them, one that Serenity felt echo in her bones. If someone had done this to her daughter...
The guards came back then, bowing low to the sovereigns that were theirs but not theirs, a show of deep respect that stemmed from Serenity's own love for the Mercurians. Queen Serenity thanked them with a smile, the words echoed in the bone weary voice of Queen Mercury. Mercury the younger stared at them with serious blue eyes and inclined her upper body in a stilted bow from her position on her mother's lap, ever mindful of her manners. Aoi barked out a harsh laugh, and then coughed and sobbed once more at the action. Serenity dismissed them with another thankful smile. A tale woman with red hair stayed behind after the others had taken their leave, bringing them towels to dry with, then clothes, Aoi draping her daughter in an oversized robe that engulfed her. She brought them hot food and hotter drink, taking the damp clothes to be laundered. She even stoked the fire, her only complaint a quiet mutter about the pile of fuel needing replenishing.
"Thank you Hisa. I appreciate your help." The guard smiled and inclined her head, accepting the thanks even as she dismissed her actions as inconsequential.
"I'll be just outside should you need anything else your majesties."
After the door clicked shut, Aoi reached out to her queen. Serenity was there in an instant, clasping the fine fingers with both hands. "They tried to kill her."
The bile rose, even though Serenity had already suspected as much, had braced for it. The girl was a girl in every sense of the word, so very young. She couldn't be more than nine, if that. The last time she'd seen her, she'd been a baby, an infant, swaddled then too. All of the guardians had wanted to play with her, little doll that she was. Even Pluto, dear melancholy Pluto, had held the youngest guardian. They'd all enjoyed the contrast of the eldest of them all doting in her own way on the princess of Mercury. "She's quieter than every last one of you for it all," had been Pluto's rich laugh, before Princess Neptune had prettily sulked that it was her birthday and she wanted to play next.
"It was her own gods damned nanny Serenity. My own house! Her own guard stepped aside and let it happen! And for what, a handful of silver?" Mercury's eyes flashed, and Serenity knew that the gardens would be flooded tomorrow. "I can't keep her safe in my own house. Wisdom and patience have netted me a nest of vipers, and..." she cut herself off, staring down at the girl in her arms. "Ami, I've tried to spare you this. But I can't anymore. You have to know. Knowledge is the best thing I can give you to fight your enemies my darling." The girl said nothing, only curled against her mother's chest and listened.
Mercury tightened her grip on Serenity's hands, the story pouring out of her mouth in a river of detached observation and supposition. There had been dissent in the houses of Mercury. There always was, in recent memory. Unlike the other kingdoms, where rule was passed from mother to daughter, almost exclusively within a bloodline, and never lasting for more than a a generation or two, Queen Mercury had been presiding for almost six. The rumblings had started a century prior, with fear that no heir left the kingdom open to annexation by whichever planet got their swords up fastest. Aoi had quelled it at the time, citing the document every kingdom had agreed to centuries before even she had been born. There had been centuries of peace so far, she's said. The treaty held the planets together, and no one would stand against another now. Every planet, from commerce driven Venus to the war torn Jupiter had held fast and grown strong under it. And the rumbles had stopped. She had been loved, respected, praised. Her people were ~happy~. That was all she'd ever wanted. The queens of other kingdoms came and went, passing their power on to their children and dying quiet, happy deaths in kingdoms ruled by their great great great granddaughters at the end of their time. Aoi did not.
Her country grew stronger. She approved banking operations on Venus, electronic trade routes with Mars, Earth, even far off Neptune. Fifty years ago, she'd helped her country gain a solid foothold in their solar system. The fingers of Mercury were on the pulse of every other populated planet and moon in a way they had never been before. The rumbles started, not from the civilian population this time, but from the noble houses. Subtle at first, they mentioned fears about Uranus and Jupiter receiving munitions. Maybe those shipments should be lost in transit, to prevent them being used. Aoi had heard the underlying fear. "Against us." Shipments of recreational drugs from Earth to Venus could be vented enroute through space, to prevent the spread of it's use. "To cripple Earth's trade." Sinister whispers started. A shipment of vaccines to Earth should be withheld, to keep the planet from relying too much on it's older neighbors. "To keep the planet population from outgrowing us."
Mercury kept her own counsel. She listened to the nobles, to the things they said, and the things they did not say. But her people, not the sniping upper class that would inevitably destroy themselves with infighting, as these things so often went, no, the ones who went to the banks every day and ran the shops and lived their lives as they would, they were happy. She was still their wise queen, their lady. "Let the other kingdoms manage themselves, it is not our place to police them." And she'd expected that to be that. Some nobles would sulk, others would fall in line. After so long, Aoi saw the cyclical nature of politics. And she knew that was her downfall. She'd grown complacent, opening a window to vent the smoke, but missing the house burning down around her.
The day she found Ami, the match was struck. She had had a dream, a nightmare, a vision, of a light shining so bright she thought even Pluto in her silent halls must have seen the glow. She woke up breathing hard, filled with an aching love so deep she thought she might die from it. She felt as she had the day her Queen had given birth, the day her moon princess was delivered to the world. She dressed quickly, had transport fetched, and even wide awake she saw an after image of that pulsing brightness, like she'd looked into the sun. It was like divining water in a way, her heart leading her on, twisting and turning, navigating streets in a cart that always seemed to be going in the wrong direction. She had always thought her patience limitless, but on that night she jumped headlong out of the moving vehicle in a frenzy, catching herself on the wall of a home before pitching down alleys and through backyards like a child at play. She'd lurched to a stop in front of a house that looked like a house. Nothing special about it. She craned her neck, confused and trying to calm herself. And then she'd heard a voice calling out. With trembling hands she reached for the door, letting herself in and heading through a living room, a kitchen, a dining room, up a flight of stairs. At the top of the stairs a bedroom lay, the door open as if waiting for her to arrive.
A woman lay there, a baby in her arms. Ami in her arms. It was like the girl was a magnet, and Aoi was an errant bit of iron. She knelt at the bed, reached her hand to caress the little head covered in a fuzz of blue. Hesitated, until the woman smiled and took the hand in her own, the two of them stroking the infant. Ami blinked at them, blearily. Aoi laughed, and cried, and the woman joined her. "Iku," the woman intoned, eyes never leaving the girl in her arms. She tilted her arm slightly, lifted the baby's head up so that Mercury could see clearly. "Ami."
"Aoi."
The words were superfluous, they both knew each other, as if they'd known each other all their lives. Aoi ran her hand across Iku's forehead in a gentle caress, revealing the sigil of Mercury glowing fitfully. It was brighter than she'd seen it on any potential since she was a young woman so very long ago, but it was not the light from her dreams. She shifted her touch along Iku's neck, felt the rushing, faltering pulse, the heat and fever. Knew with crystal clarity why she was here. They both did.
With the care of a practiced healer, she went about making Iku comfortable. She drew her a bath, lifted her easily to undress her and sat quietly as the woman she'd never met before and who she knew like she was her own blood nursed the daughter they shared. Hours later, after the water went cold, she carried her back to the bedroom, gently holding the infant as the other woman dressed in a clean nightgown. They shared a chaste kiss when Aoi fitted the child against Iku again, and Aoi's eyes burned. Then they settled into the bed quietly, all three. Aoi slipped against the headboard, letting Iku settle between her legs and relax against her chest, and Ami slept deeply in Iku's arms. She ran her hands over Iku through the rest of the day and well into the night, drawing the power of Mercury into her palms and pressing the cool force into the other woman's very veins. She couldn't do more than that, but Iku held no ill will. "Thank you." And Aoi continued, silent, loaning as much of her power as she could, stretching the reserves that had kept Iku alive as long as they had for as far as possible.
She felt Iku's passing like an icicle melting in her heart. A part of her broke, and Ami wailed loud and long, the sigil of Mercury flashing like the sun over waves. She grasped Ami's flailing hand between two fingers, and cried with her.
Eventually she had to move, had to pull Ami from loving arms gone cold and press her against her own reassuring warmth. She wanted to curl and cry for days, the time spent already mourning seeming like a second in her long life, but she had a legacy to care for. She summoned her closest guards and advisors, made plans. Family she knew didn't exist needed to be tracked for the sake of legitimacy, a funeral planned, a place in the royal catacombs made ready, announcements prepared and reviewed and prepared again, paperwork drafted, new staff hired, wetnurses, nannies. Tutors, at some point. As was her wont, Aoi thought far into the future, and missed the signs right in front of her.
The rumbles were roars before she'd even sent out official announcements on the situation. Nobles sent messengers, demanded explanations. Many of them had daughters with some inkling of power they had been grooming for a position the Queen apparently had no intention of filling with her own blood. The rage they felt at an orphan with no connection to the royal body in any way being tapped by the Queen to fill her spot was hotter than any sacred flame on Mars. Mercury noticed little of it. They would see, she knew. They were so far removed from the heart of their planet's goddess, they couldn't see the glow that felt like an oasis to Aoi after going so long without. The other girls, with their faint trickles of magic, never lasted very long. Aoi had seen so many of them in her years, the broken streams that dried up over time, no matter how she fostered them. It crushed her, every time. But they would see.
She brought Ami to the Moon court as soon as the ink had dried on the declaration of succession. She wanted Ami to be known, to be loved, as she herself loved her. And she knew the girl had a destiny. She had long assumed when the time came, and Serenity passed on her power to her own daughter, that she would become the girl's guardian, as Pluto had for princesses long before any of the current guardians had been a shine in their great great ancestors' eyes. But now Ami would have to fulfill that role, and the other girls had several years on her. She wanted them all to grow up together, to grow close as she had with Serenity's mother's guardians the first time around. It had been slightly awkward as they had been replaced by their daughters, and she didn't want Ami to feel out of place with these girls who would protect and teach her, who would care for her and support her, and who she would defend in turn.
The girl grew, and learned, and Aoi loved her more every moment. Years that used to pass like days seemed to slow down and speed up at the same time. But it wasn't until Ami's fourth birthday that she'd finally slowed enough to feel the flames. As she looked around her court, she saw no love in any of the nobles' eyes. It felt... hollow. Like a void. Ami came to her, blue with ice but not looking as if she felt the cold at all, a small chocolate frozen hard in her hand. She pressed it between her mother's lips with her chubby palm, pleased with herself at the crinkle eyed smile, at the happy laugh at this little display of the power Aoi knew bubbled within her. She hefted the girl into her lap and looked out at her court, and knew that none of them had seen it, not for what it was. Maybe, maybe some did. Some had, she was sure. She still had advisors, three that had been with her all of her many many years. Guards, some servants that she could still see Mercury in, that could still see Mercury in her. Some in the room had seen Mercury in Ami. But not enough. Not nearly.
She bided her time. Ami would grow, and when she was older, Aoi would transfer the power that was her birthright. They would see, in action if not in the potential, that the choice was right. That the choice was made not by Aoi, but by the very lifeforce of the planet that sustained them.
Unfortunately, there were some that would not wait that long.
The shrill chirp of the communicator she had made woke Queen Mercury. It was connected to Ami's, the only two in this castle, one of few on the planet. The tech was cutting edge, and so Aoi was understandably confused when she answered and saw nothing but black and heard only vague noises that sounded as if they were coming from underwater. Ami was terribly conscientious for her age, and Aoi knew she would not be playing around with it. The girl had eyed it curiously when she had been given it, repeated the admonition not to use it except in an emergency and promised with a very serious nod. She felt the prick of an icicle again, slowly pushing into her stomach. She didn't even stop to grab a robe, only slowing long enough to knock into her personal guard and blurt out her destination as she raced down the halls. The loud thunder of boots behind her did not block out the rush of her pulse in her ears.
At Ami's room, her guard was conspicuously absent. Aoi pushed the door open quickly, mindful of anything in the way. Ami lay on the ground, her nightdress rucked around her throat with one small hand pressing down as hard as she could as blood pushed through and around, the other lying uselessly at her side. Her communicator was open and just outside the spreading circle of red. The roar of pain and terror and rage was heard echoing down the hallways. In a kitchen, a woman, little more than a girl, slipped red hands under her apron and sidled out the back door. She avoided the guards for some time, but she was still little more than a girl. She had no plan to escape, hadn't even the sense to clean up before an alert was called. They found her cowering eventually.
Aoi saw none of this. She saw her daughter bleeding out on the floor of her bedroom, into the thick blue shag carpet that seemed saturated, like it had sucked up more blood than the girl could possibly contain. She made wet gurgling sounds as Mercury made a sloppy tourniquet from the remainder of the gown, twisting it until it must have hurt. She slipped the girl's hand into the loop, knowing she knew to keep it tight, and hefted her into her arms. She kicked the door to the room shut, not sparing time to lock it as she should have. Behind a decorative tapestry, she found the near invisible catch for a tunnel. It was cold, and long disused, and she hated bringing the girl into the dampness. But she was scared, so scared. The cold and damp she could deal with later, enemies in the long run. Right now, the faceless assassin was the enemy she feared, and the tunnels were one place she knew they'd not find her. The door slid shut with a grinding shudder.
Down, down into the keep she went, carrying Ami deep into the heart of the castle. She came out in room that was dusty, but obviously well-stocked. It was a store room of sorts, a table and shelves covered in medical supplies. Aoi cleared it with a sweep of her arm, draping Ami down and hunting down the supplies she'd need. It felt like hours and seconds to her since she'd woken up.
The cut had been shallow, but ragged. The assassin wasn't a killer, Aoi saw that much. Thank all the gods there were that she wasn't. They had been hesitant, too scared to slide hard and deep enough to kill quickly. The icicle in her stomach twisted as she thanked Mercury her daughter's killer had been too inexperienced to kill the young girl painlessly, had instead panicked when the girl reached out a cold hand and grasped at their wrist, had twisted the cold little hand back, away, until it had cracked like thin ice underfoot. Had left her to bleed out slow and painfully.
The stitches were thick, ugly, black and slick like caterpillars crawling on Ami's throat. They still wept a bit, and Aoi did too. She always cried when Ami hurt, even when the girl didn't. Ami's eyes glistened with hurt and fear now though, and Aoi clutched her close. "I'm sorry baby. Mother didn't pay attention. I wasn't careful enough with you." Ami croaked, her throat raw and bruised. She might have said, "I love you." Or "thank you". Or "where were you?" and Aoi felt ice flood her veins.
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Serenity finally breathed. It felt like she'd been holding it the entire story. Ami lay with heavy-lidded eyes, although both women knew she was still listening. The blonde wondered how much of this story was news to Ami, how much she pieced together herself with her preternaturally clever brain.
"She'll stay here. There's nowhere safer for her now. And you will have whatever you need to clean your own house." Serenity said, a statement that was a vow. "I'll call the others. The Emperor of Mars will be happy to help, I'm sure. He still remembers how you and his daughter got on with fondness." Queen Mercury nodded, knowing it to be true. The man was old now, even older than herself, but having long accepted his mortality and given his small share of his bloodlines' power to his granddaughter. The power of Mars didn't seem to be done with the man though, because he still went on, obviously aged but still healthy as he'd ever been. He had a wisdom particular to himself, and Aoi felt a ringing fondness for him and his generosity with it. She knew she had allies she could call on in all the Kingdoms, her years making her as many friends in the universe as she had enemies at home.
There was a tap at the door, soft and nervous. Hisa opened the door, "Princesses Usagi and Minako Your Majest-ies." Serenity smiled wide, the ache and tear in her stomach settling slightly at the thought of her daughter right now. "Let them in, please." The girls stumbled in, still looking a bit sleepy and lost clutching each other for support in their dressing gowns.
"We were going to get a snack, but we saw all the guards outside and had to see what was going on." Minako yawned, although Usagi looked like she wanted to protest. She was stifled by a yawn that competed with her friend's for length and power, and Serenity warmed incrementally.
"Mercury has been having... troubles, on her home world. There's been some violence." Both girls gasped, Minako with the intrigue of someone who was unfamiliar with real violence. "Princess Ami will be staying here for a time. She's... she was attacked."
The girls gasped again, immediately raining questions. "Was it youma? Do you have youma on Mercury? I thought they were all gone from the inner planets. How did you kill it?" Serenity held up a hand, her heart clenching again at the painful information she had to impart. They were future warriors, her daughter was a destined leader, she would deal with death and war and all life's unpleasantness in intimate detail one day. That was why, perhaps, she felt so awful revealing them now. She was so young yet, could still have a few more years of complete innocence.
Ami forced her hand, by accident or design she could not be sure. Her voice was still lost, her throat painful and raw. Her good hand went up to cover it, soothe it with an icy touch, and the girls couldn't help but see the old bandage, the fresh pain in her eyes. "That wasn't a youma." Minako said simply, and Aoi shook her head. Usagi looked at Ami with big, watery eyes, sniffling lightly before attaching herself firmly to the smaller girl. The girl shook her head nervously, unable to brush her blue hair out of her face in her typical expression of trepidation, and Minako reached over and tucked it behind her ear, before wrapping her arms around both girls. Aoi smiled, for the first time in this awful night, as the girls nearly climbed on top of each other to comfort Ami in her lap. Ami tangled her hand in blonde hair as gently as she could, awkward with this familiar-but-not physical affection.
"We'll keep her safe!" Usagi promised, the pledge blind and sincere. Minako nodded assent, surprising Aoi with her sudden seriousness. She looked as if she truly understood what the oath meant, and Aoi suspected the girl was more worldly than she acted. "You can sleep in my room tonight Ami! I mean, that is, if Queen Mercury says it's ok?"
Aoi nodded wearily. She'd been funneling what energy she could into the girl, but Ami was dead weight already, and she'd be unconscious very soon. "I need to check her properly, my ministrations were a bit slapdash. If you could find her something to wear my princesses, that would be lovely." The girls seemed to form a plan without saying a word. Minako charged off through the palace, her bare feet pattering loudly away, and Usagi tucked a hand into Ami's and smiled warmly. The girl smiled back, warming considerably at the gentle touch.
"Be careful darling," Serenity warned, watching the subtle flow of power with a mother's eye. She was reticent to stop her, and Usagi smiled at her, real and wide and tiny bit reckless.
"I can spare it, she needs it more than me. She'd do the same for me mother."
Aoi clasped the princess' shoulder as she swayed a bit, tugging her close to her chest. "Told you I'd keep up my studies. Mother was really proud too, she got all gushy. Told everyone in the whole palace," the girl murmured into her collar, and Aoi couldn't help but smile again.
"Tomorrow I may do the very same thing my princess."