Summary: A few weeks away from her seventeenth birthday, Naminé, niece to the King of the Realm of Darkness, is kidnapped and taken hostage by a band of mysterious outlaws. With their plans to use her as a bargaining chip to save the life of a fellow bandit, she soon finds herself thrown head first into a world of piracy and secrets, where she ends up falling for the enigmatic Roxas, leader of the notorious Organization XIII.
A/N: Hello there! I'm back and I've got a new story for you all! This one's pretty special; it's dedicated to a dear friend of mine, SummonerDagger88, who's been so awesome over the last few months. Thank you so much for all of your support and chats, you're awesome and I love you. Of course, I have plenty of other people I could thank, but they'll be receiving their own story at some point in the future — you know who you are!
This is going to be a lot different from some of my other stories; there are no high schools involved, for a start! I was kind of inspired to write in this kind of setting after reading White Knight — a wonderful fic by aradian nights. If you haven't yet read it before, I seriously encourage you to take a look as it's pretty darn awesome!
Ahem. And now, without any further ado, I present to you Rising of the Sun!
Disclaimer: I do not own any Kingdom Hearts or Final Fantasy characters!
Chapter One :: Skin Deep
Saïx stalked soundlessly towards his commander's tent, his strides long and purposeful. The news he bore was grave, very grave indeed and he knew that the young man would want to know of it straight away. It was indeed a matter of security which compelled him to take such swift actions, but it also concerned a certain renegade prince within their midst, who would not take too kindly to the news, especially as their own commander had been the one to set the mission which had catapulted his brother into the fray. His brow furrowed as he mulled over the information. It shouldn't have been possible, to have one of their own so easily captured by the enemy, but nevertheless it had come to pass and now there was next to nothing they could do to help him.
The man glanced up as a particular redhead danced into his path and was quick to offer him a curt nod before brushing past, but the younger man merely scurried after him, his lips set in his usual infuriating grin.
"Hey there, Saïx. Off to see the boss man?" He called teasingly, bumping the man's elbow with his own. When his friend remained silent yet visibly bristled from the brief contact, the redhead let out an exaggerated sigh and leapt in front of him, holding his hands out to stop him. "C'mon man, I only asked a question." His expression became mocking and light as he added meaningfully, "I see… Holding out on an old pal, are ya?"
The scarred man rolled his golden eyes and scowled at the boisterous redhead who didn't seem able to take a hint. "Hardly. I just do not see the need to speak with you. That is all." He purposefully side-stepped the man and continued on his way, calling over his shoulder in a flat tone, "However, if it is of any consolation, I am indeed going to see him."
"Say hi to him for me!" The redhead hollered, thankfully refraining from following him, for which Saïx was silently thankful. There were times when he could tolerate the tenacious man's presence to the point where he could even say he enjoyed the company, but today was not one of them. He had business to attend to and being distracted by the intolerable man was not on his agenda.
His thoughts suddenly drifted to the news he had yet to deliver to the young man in charge. He couldn't imagine that he would take to the information with much enthusiasm. After all; it was not every day one of their own people was captured. If he wasn't so loyal, he knew he would hesitate in reporting the news. He knew nothing good could come of it, but it was his duty as second in command to alert his boss of any changes to their war effort, and that included the status of prisoners.
Saïx paused in front of his commander's tent. He silently collected his thoughts and entered, pushing the offending flap aside without any form of announcement. He watched with his cool, unblinking golden eyes as the young man turned around to look at him for a moment, a single eyebrow rising questioningly. They held each other's gaze for a moment longer before the young man turned back to the maps and other variety of documents spread out before him without saying anything to the intruder, scanning over a security report given to him by one of his subordinates.
Taking his silence as a cue to start taking, the golden eyed man moved further into the dimly lit area and folded his hands calmly behind his back. "Terra has failed." He declared monotonously, turning his gaze towards the interior of the extravagant tent. Several stolen tapestries, telling tales of great battles won and lost, lined the walls as well as the odd bear skin or sporting trophy. The furniture was made of the finest quality wood, polished and varnished until it shone in the light and was cushioned with soft velvet or silk fabrics to provide comfort. In the centre, a small hearth had been dug into the ground where a warm fire was burning, the smoke twirling up into the air and through a perfectly circular hole at the top of the tent. His leader, a man barely into his late teens, was sitting at a rich mahogany table, his head bent towards its surface. All that could be seen of him was his unusually spiky blond hair, partially covered by the large collar of his cloak hung heavily around his slender shoulders.
Becoming uncomfortable as the silence grew between them, Saïx shifted and cleared his throat. When the teenager continued to remain quiet despite the news and his attempts to elicit a response, the man added informatively, "He has been captured. Xehanort will have him executed soon, no doubt."
This seemed to get a rise out of the young man. The blond sat before the mahogany table tipped his head to the side and spoke, "So I have heard."
Every now and again, Saïx would almost forget that this man seated before him could still be considered a child. His voice was rich and silky, highlighted with husky undertones, lilted with a deeper, hidden pain only present in the most battle-hardened men. A woman might describe it as being the voice of an angel, but the golden eyed man knew better; his commander was cold-hearted, cruel and relentless. His words often held a crude bite to them and were exceedingly unforgiving. Though softly spoken, he was not a man to be underestimated or seen as inferior; he demanded the attention of all those who stood within his presence and commanded it effectively with the force of sheer brutality and ease. Saïx had learnt this swiftly during his stay under the boy's authority and had come to respect him as such. In some way, it could even be said that he admired the boy. His leadership rivalled even that of the Organization's previous leader, Zack.
The only issue he had with his current chief was his apparent inability to think things through. While he was capable of leading such a large and formidable group with the confidence of a man twice his age, his true youth often shone through when it came to making decisions which would directly affect him or his cause, specifically anything involving Xehanort. He would act rashly, choosing to rush in and ask questions later, often costing their group and others greatly.
He knew that the boy would react to Terra's kidnapping in the same fashion and was wary of provoking him into doing something stupid.
Although he was almost certain of the answer he was to receive, Saïx stepped around the fire and asked curtly, "What do you want us to do?"
The young man reached for the quill resting on the desk beside one of the pieces of parchment and picked it up, twirling it gracefully between his delicate fingers. "He won't be foolish enough as to leave him unguarded...so a rescue attempt would be out of the question." He murmured thoughtfully, leaning forwards slightly to dip the end of the quill into an inkwell. "No, I think we shall try something much bolder than that." He scribbled a quick note in the corner of the parchment spread out before him, the scratching halting suddenly as he half swivelled around in his chair to look up at his second in command, his blue eyes filled with cool authority. "What of the Princess? She arrived home safely, I take it?"
Unable to help himself, Saïx frowned slightly, his golden eyes flickering towards the man's hand poised over the old paper. "Yes, I believe so, sir." He declared quietly, wondering why his superior was asking such a question. Surely if he knew that Terra had failed that the princess would have returned to the castle?
"Excellent." The young blond chuckled harshly, dropping his quill and rising steadily to his feet, his broad shoulders flexing slightly. He cracked his knuckles reflexively and walked aimlessly towards one of the tapestries nearby, reaching a hand out to trace its unique markings. For a moment, he remained silent before adding, "Tell Axel and Larxene I wish to speak with them immediately."
Instead of bowing and leaving like he usually would, he brushed aside his superior's request and moved to stand closer to him, his arms crossing over his chest. "What are you planning?" He asked cautiously, watching the young man intensely, searching for clues. He knew he was up to something and whatever it was Saïx had deduced that it wasn't a good thing, for both him and the rest of their company.
Much to his surprise, the teenager let out a laugh and cocked his head to the side, a smirk spreading across his lips. "We're going to kidnap the princess and use her to save Terra. Not only that, but we can perhaps use her to take down her old man. It's not likely that Xehanort would sacrifice his own daughter, given his age and the fact that she is his only successor."
Saïx resisted the urge to sigh. He had been afraid of this.
"Sir, it is hopeless. Terra is lost." Saïx murmured, keeping his tone neutral and impassive. He knew that many of the men would agree with him; Terra could not be saved, not now that he was within Xehanort's heavy fortress. The only person to have penetrated its walls was the former leader of their group, Zack, who had retired and chosen to live the quiet life with his wife, Aerith. Of course, he still acted as a mercenary for hire, but his services were rarely required anymore. They had not heard from him in quite some time, although they assumed from this that he was well.
All of a sudden, the young man swiftly turned to Saïx, lifting a single perfect eyebrow. Despite the calm expression spread across his delicate features, his eyes were swirling with anger and his hands were clenched into tight fists by his sides. "You know I never leave a man behind, Saïx." He practically spat, "I refuse to leave anybody behind ever again. Not since my..." He broke off and whirled away, putting his back to Saïx. He had not meant to let that last bit slip. Nobody knew of his past, not even Axel, who knew a rather disturbing amount about him. No, he would not tell anybody, not even the man he trusted with his life. In an attempt to calm himself, he added quietly, "Besides, what would Riku think if he found out we weren't attempting to save him?"
Saïx resisted the urge to sigh for a second time. He wasn't at all shocked by the outburst. The young man quite frequently lost his temper and would rain his fury down upon anyone who so much as put a toe out of line. He was secretly glad to be alive. "I understand my liege. I am merely saying that perhaps you ought to think this through." He held his hands out in a placating gesture, his expression serious. "She is innocent in all this. She should not be involved, even if it is Xehanort."
The blond shook his head once, crossing his own arms and tensing his shoulders. "No." He replied stonily, his voice filled with barely contained anger. "This will be done. We want to bring Xehanort down. If it means we have to endanger the innocent..." At this, he glanced over his shoulder and met Saïx's gaze with a cold, cruel stare. "Then so be it."
Saïx found his superior almost impossible to reason with when he was like this. He himself abhorred hurting the innocent. On usual occasions, so did his commander, but the boy was blinded by his hatred for Xehanort and would do almost anything to blast the man off the face of the earth, including harming an innocent child. Things were apparently a lot worse than he had first suspected.
"Roxas." When Saïx spoke his name for the first time, the blonde fully turned to face him, his lips setting in a steely line. The older man ignored his unnerving stare and crossed his arms in what he hoped to be an authoritative manner. He wouldn't stand for this. He couldn't. "You have been plagued with hate ever since Xehanort destroyed the lives of those people within that village, ever since that young girl died in your arms. You aren't thinking clearly." He stated calmly, his golden eyes narrowing.
"I know what I'm doing." Roxas snarled, pushing past him and exiting the tent without another word, his boots echoing as he stomped across the heavily trodden earth.
Saïx shook his head, his frown becoming more prominent. "I hope you're right..."
····» ₪ «····
The scorching sun backed against the deep marine sky bathed the grounds of the castle beneath its vast expanse in a warm, natural glow. The flowers were in full bloom, their vibrant petals turned towards the sky, soaking up the sun's rays, while the symmetric trees lining the neatly groomed courtyard swayed slightly in the summer breeze, wafting the fragrant smell of fresh pine across the elegantly presented garden.
In the very centre of the garden, beneath a particularly old pine tree, sat two young women. The smaller of the two, a pretty blonde in her mid-teens, was drawing contentedly in a pristine sketchpad, her pencil making soft scratches against the page. She glanced up, shivering slightly as the wind teased at her skirts and fanned against her stocking covered legs. While tucking a stubborn strand of hair behind her ear, she uncrossed her legs and stretched them out in front of her with a sigh of relief, her pencil falling from her dainty hand and onto the grass beside her. Her fingernails dug into the cuff of her arm length sleeves, keeping them from slipping down as she stretched her arms above her head, a cat-like yawn passing her lips.
The older of the two, a woman barely into her twenties with cropped, striking blue hair, looked up from the novel she had been immersed in to see what had been the cause of the disturbance and held back a disapproving frown as her wandering gaze landed on her small companion. She quickly noted the number of the page she was currently on before setting the book aside, folding her hands neatly in her lap as she addressed the younger girl, "Miss Naminé—if you continue to sit like that you'll ruin your dress." She patted a space on the patchwork spread she was sat on, smiling warmly. "Come and sit on the blanket, beside me."
The younger girl — Naminé — looked over at her maid, a teasing, carefree smile reaching her features. "Don't worry so, servant." She declared haughtily, reaching out and splaying her fingers through the long grass tickling at her exposed calves. "It's such a silly thing to get upset about." She continued with a defiant shake of her head, "My Uncle will buy me another if this one gets dirty."
The young woman looked around worriedly and bit at her lip, her voice lowering to a whisper, "That may be, Miss, but his Majesty does not take pleasure in spending his money on more of your dresses when there are more important things at hand — like the war." When Naminé started squirming, the material of her dress rubbing against the earth beneath her, the blue haired maid panicked, flapping a hand at the young girl, "Please, Miss. You are wearing white. The stains will never come out." And still, her mistress did not listen. The maid was becoming desperate. In a last attempt to convince the girl to salvage her dress, the woman indicated to one of the many stone benches situated around the edges of the courtyard, stating weakly, "Could you not at least seat yourself on one of the benches while you draw?"
Naminé lifted her chin arrogantly, looking down her nose at the floundering woman. "They do not provide quite the same view of the gardens as opposed to down here." She snapped, her small fingers curling protectively around the edge of her sketchpad. When the young maid flinched away, the girl smirked triumphantly and tossed her head. She turned her face away from the woman, scanning the area before her in an almost bored manner, "It's quite a spectacular sight, isn't it?"
"Very much so, Miss." The older woman whispered as she bowed her head, clutching a hand to her chest, not wanting to anger the young princess any further.
The blonde retrieved her pencil from the ground beside her and resumed drawing the wondrous scene before her. As if a thought had suddenly occurred to her, she paused and tipped her head to the side, her expression genuinely curious as she asked lightly, "How long do you suppose this 'war' between my Uncle and these barbarians will last?"
The maidservant glanced over at the young girl, feeling her brow furrow. This was not the first time in which Naminé had taken quite an obvious interest in the war between those residing in the three Realms of the Kingdom of Trinitas. If asked herself, she would deny that she had ever thought about it, when in reality she found herself worrying about it constantly. If the war were to be won by the rebellion, how would it affect her? How would it affect the Kingdom and, in turn, those she held dear? Given the chance, she would take the young princess and the few friends she had and flee — she didn't trust Xehanort and she certainly didn't view herself as on 'his side'.
"I can't say, Miss. The war has been going on for a very long time. Neither side seem close to victory, even though some would say otherwise." The young woman refrained from using names. She did not know if the young girl would turn her into the King and have her beheaded — she'd seen it happen to many servants before and she did not take comfort in the thought of being one of those in line.
The blonde sighed and gathered up her things before springing to her feet, a bright smile now occupying her face as she drew her sketchpad to her chest, "No matter. I guess it will be over when it's over." She tossed her maid a glance as she began to walk back towards the castle wall, her strides small and delicate, almost as though she were stepping on air. "We'll be heading inside now, Aqua, I'm tired of drawing. Hurry up."
Aqua hastily scrambled for the items she had brought outside with her, tucking them firmly beneath her arms as she scurried after her young mistress, her cheeks flaming. "Of course, Miss Naminé."
The young girl giggled, twirling on her heel and facing the woman hurrying after her, her cerulean eyes darting this way and that as they passed another bed of brightly coloured flowers. "It is going to be such a wonderful summer, I can feel it. Why, the sun is shining, the flowers are in bloom and the sky... Oh, the sky..." She tilted her head back, her entire face shining with happiness, "It is so beautiful, don't you agree?"
Startled, the blue haired maiden dipped her head in agreement. It was quite a rare sight to see her mistress to blatantly overjoyed. She wished the girl would show her smile more often — she was very attractive as it was, but that smile really brought out the cerulean blue of her eyes and seemed to radiate happiness from her entire being. "I... Yes, Miss Naminé, I believe it will." Shyly, Aqua added in a hopeful voice, "Perhaps you will even get to travel down to the beach this year. I remember how badly you wished to visit last summer."
Of course, after saying this, Aqua realised her mistake, but it was too late to take back her words. Naminé's face darkened and she whirled away, her carefree manner vanishing. "No. I was childish to ever think that I would be allowed to leave the castle. Xehanort will never allow it. Never…" Her voice had lowered to a whisper by this point and Aqua found herself wanting to comfort the young princess, but the glare the girl shot over her shoulder was full of malice and hatred, enough to stop the maid in her tracks. Naminé's nose wrinkled with obvious disdain, "In the future, don't say such stupid things, maidservant, for I would hate for something bad to happen to you."
The woman took a step back, her face paling. She would often forget how quickly her moods would change. The girl could be quite malicious when she pleased and often threatened her when she said something Naminé considered wrong or when she spoke out of turn. Admittedly, her unpredictable manner was often very hard to discern, meaning that Aqua was constantly on edge around her, but over the years she had grown used to this. Every now and again she would make a slight slip up, but nothing could be done about it. She was only human after all — she was as prone to mistakes as much as the next person. However, her mistress didn't seem to understand this nor tolerate it.
Aqua swallowed heavily, trying to calm the erratic beating of her heart. "Of course, Miss Naminé." She whispered, her eyes automatically clenching shut at the thought of something terrible happening to her. "Forgive me..."
"Just remember your place." Naminé barked unkindly, her lip curving into a sneer as they reached the large wooden door which would lead to one of the many corridors of the immense castle. "You may leave me here, servant. Come for me before dinner, I wish to change." The blonde shot her one last glare before disappearing through the door and swerving to the left, most likely heading back to her quarters up in the west tower.
Aqua had noticed with some curiosity that she rarely left her room anymore. If she wasn't in her room, she could most likely be found outside or in the library, submerged in an array of books she found interesting or mind-expanding. It was a shame that the girl had no friends and knew so little of the outside world.
For a strange reason which Aqua had yet to fully comprehend, Master Xehanort had forbidden Naminé from ever leaving the castle shortly after she arrived, claiming that she was much too frail and delicate to be allowed outside of the safety of the walls. It didn't, therefore, make much sense that his daughter, the sole heir to the throne, was allowed outside whenever she demanded. She decided not to dwell on it. The Master clearly had his reasons for doing what he did, although she did not quite agree with his brusque, cruel methods.
Aqua sighed and entered through the door after her mistress, instead turning right, heading towards the kitchen in search of some comfort during her frustration. For some reason, she chose to glance over her shoulder. Her eyes immediately landed on the young blonde's form as she flounced down the hallway, her sketchpad clutched to her tiny chest, her feet making loud slapping noises on the tiled floor. Behind all of the harsh bravado and temper tantrums, the girl was hiding the loneliness which had plagued her since she first arrived. That didn't make her sudden change in emotion any easier for her to bear. The blue haired maiden looked away, wincing.
Fortunately for her, she had long since grown accustomed to the girl's strange mood swings, but there were times when her evil tendencies still managed to surprise her. While she often chided herself for thinking such awful thoughts about the girl she had been serving since she was only ten years old, it was true to say that her mistress could quite often act very cruelly to those around her. However, when she was in one of her rare good moods, she was a pleasant young woman to be around. Aqua even thought that the two of them could one day become friends, but soon dismissed the notion after she realised how bipolar the young princess could be. Besides, she had pushed away all of her attempts, claiming not to need anyone other than herself.
Despite this, Aqua couldn't help but feel sorry for the girl. When she was very young, she lost both of her parents — King Ansem and Queen Lillian of the Enlightened Realm — to a dreadful fire which destroyed her entire home. She had somehow escaped the terrifying blaze with her life and was quickly adopted by her father's brother, Xehanort. Not long after, the war had escalated when the King of the Realm Between, Eraqus, requested the lands of their fallen brother be given to him. A bloody battle consumed the lands but Xehanort eventually conceded to his younger brother and allowed him access to the Realm. Aqua strongly suspected he had his reasons for so willingly giving up that which he could have easily taken.
While Xehanort was fighting his brother, the young Miss Naminé was granted a home within his castle walls. However, the girl was treated as though she were nothing but an annoying disease — nobody but the servants went near her, not even her own cousin, Xion, daughter of the King, and that was only if she could help it. And so, the girl had grown up alone in a world where nobody truly loved her, with no friends but the books and drawings she kept in her room. She wished she could befriend the girl, but she made things so difficult.
Before Aqua had been appointed to serve her, the other servants often spoke badly of her, calling her a freak and at times even a witch. She would apparently cast cruel, twisted spells on anybody who so much as looked at her in the wrong way, deforming the face beyond recognition. And that wasn't the worst of it. According to the extremely tall tales, the girl even kept a jar of people's hair beneath her bed, for the voodoo dolls she had locked away in one of her bedside drawers, in case she needed to curse anyone. Some people even claimed to have been 'zapped' by the young princess while passing in the halls. This was all lies, of course, but by the time she came to serve the girl, her head was filled with the many tall tales she had been told, that she was absolutely terrified of the orphaned princess.
She remembered thinking that Naminé would cast a spell on her, causing her to vomit slugs for weeks, or that she would possess her with some form of dark magic, but she couldn't have been further from the truth. While she had an extremely cold exterior and a barrier very few took the time to break down, she was actually quite a sweet, if not misunderstood, girl with trouble connecting with those around her.
Now she thought about it, she had been serving Princess Naminé for a total of eleven years and she had to admit that not one day of it had been plain sailing. Aqua had come close to losing her head on several occasions due to silly mistakes, but she always came out of it on top in the end, thanks to a stroke of luck or boredom on her mistress' part. It was strange, because Naminé would often talk about having her killed for doing something wrong or for speaking out of turn, but Aqua knew deep down that the girl relied heavily upon her and would be sad to see her go. That didn't mean she was indispensable though; she knew that she would one day outgrow her purpose as servant to the little princess, but as to what would happen to her afterwards was a mystery. Maybe Naminé would be merciful and allow her to live... Either that or she would lose her head in an instant. It all came down to what that one girl decided. Aqua didn't favour the odds and so, decided to do all she could to accommodate the princess. If she could improve her stay in the castle in anyway, then she would do it.
During her particularly more difficult moments with the young girl, she would always find solace within a fellow servant, Ventus, who was a year older than Naminé and four years younger than herself. Even after going through hell himself, the boy still somehow managed to keep a smile on his face and was able to cheer her up even in her darkest hour. To others, he was just a mere kitchen boy who sometimes performed duties for Miss Xion, heir to the throne, but to her, he was dear friend whom she couldn't live without. She treasured him dearly and relied on his impressive stories to get her through the day. He spoke often of Xion and the odd jobs he was given, which never failed to make her smile, despite her wariness towards the young princess.
Xion, or so she was told, was even worse than Naminé when it came to mood swings, although Ventus never spoke an ill word of her. He would in fact praise her and speak very highly of her, explaining how kind she could be when she wasn't yelling at him for something that was 'quite clearly his fault'. Whenever Aqua asked if the princess hurt him, he would laugh and shrug it off as if it were nothing and quickly change the subject. But his silence always gave her the answer she needed; yes, the girl did hurt him, but Ven was too loyal or simply too kind-hearted to admit it. Some considered him crazy for always wanting to see the good in people, but she considered it both a blessing and a curse. There weren't many people like that in the world nowadays and Aqua would quite often bask in his curious innocence; it was refreshing. She knew that one day it would come back around to bite him, but she swore that would be there for him when it did, protecting him until she drew her last breath.
By the time Aqua entered the kitchen, it was well past noon. She went straight over to a table in the corner of the room and sat down, dumping her items from earlier in one of the nearby chairs before craning her neck in search of her dearest friend. She soon noticed his windswept blond hair in the sea of swarming people and held back a smile. He was at the other end of a line of stoves, his face beaded with sweat as he scraped a layer of grime from its grill. He plopped the filth into a nearby bucket and leaned back, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead before glancing over and noticing her sitting in the corner. His azure eyes immediately brightened and he dropped the spatula onto a nearby surface, much to the dismay of a maid who was cutting up carrots for this evening's meal, before sauntering over to her, a grin perched on his lips.
"Aqua!" He chorused as he neared the table, throwing his hands skyward in his excitement, "You're here earlier than I expected! How's your day been so far? You look stressed! Perhaps you should take a break?"
Aqua laughed at his mindless chatter, watching him intently as he flopped down into the chair opposite her, the giddy expression never leaving his face. She felt herself immediately relax in his presence, knowing that she wouldn't have to worry about treading on eggshells around him. Very few things could irk the blond, she had learned. She smiled faintly to herself. Aqua was grateful to have someone like Ven in her life.
"Everything's fine. I admit that Naminé's being a handful, as usual, but apart from that it's been quite an enjoyable day." She paused and looked him over, noticing the streak of dirt trailing down his cheek. She frowned and reached out, wiping it away with her sleeve. "You're a mess, Ven! What have you been doing? Mucking out the horses?"
He grinned and swatted her hand away playfully, "Not exactly. I had to clean the chimney in Miss Xion's room this morning, in preparation for her return." Only then did his smile slip a little, a slight pout forming on his face, "And afterwards they made me clean the stoves…now that was not fun. I'm still nowhere near finished and they expect me to get it done before this evening!"
She watched him in silence for a moment, noticing the dark circles under his usually bright eyes. They seemed to be working him a lot harder than normal and that worried her; he was only a boy and there was only so much he could take. She curled her fingers into her palms and gritted her teeth. She wished, above all else, that she could reduce his workload. She hated seeing him so exhausted. Instead of mentioning his apparent tiredness, however, she chose to focus on something else before she lost her head over it.
"I see. So Miss Xion will be returning soon... Miss Naminé won't be happy about that." She murmured curtly, already imagining the headache she was going to receive when she ended up delivering the news to the impatient blond. "It sounds like you've had a pretty tiring day so far..." Her eyebrows knitted into a frown as she noticed Ven's head loll to the side. "Ven, you don't look so good. I can help, if you'd like…?" She reached out and rested her hand on his shoulder meaningfully.
Suddenly, his playfulness vanished as he reached up and placed a hand over hers. "No need, Aqua. Don't waste your energy on me. It's like this every day." Ven leaned back again and folded his arms behind his head, his eyes closing automatically. "Let's not focus on me." He cracked open one eye and looked across at her, his eyebrows rising slightly, "What's this about Naminé, huh? Has she been giving you a hard time?"
She was still worried by the serious expression which had appeared on his face after she mentioned healing him. He had been acting like that a lot lately, especially after he discovered that she could use magic. It was almost as though he was afraid that someone would overhear them and take her away to Xehanort to be executed. Everyone within the kingdom knew that magic was forbidden. People were killed for it, sometimes even burned at the stake if one committed a heinous act. However, if their talents proved to be particularly unique, Xehanort would often torture the subject to gain information about the magic they possessed before finally killing them.
It bothered her that Ven was trying to protect her. She didn't like it.
Aqua shook herself free of her depressing thoughts, remembering that he had asked her a question before and stammering quickly, "No, no. Not at all, it's nothing like that. She was just being...her usual difficult self." Aqua puffed out her cheeks and leaned her chin into her palm, her eyes narrowing. "Sometimes her moods are so hard to keep up with — one second she's all happy and carefree and in the next it's like she wants to kill me with her bare hands."
"I wouldn't be surprised if she does." Ven mused absentmindedly to himself. When Aqua shot him a displeased look, he raised his hands apologetically, his grin becoming sheepish. "What? It's true. I've seen the look she gives you sometimes. It is pretty creepy."
The young woman lifted her head and dropped her hand into her lap, letting out an exasperated sigh. "Yeah, I suppose you're right." She frowned, wishing she could at least understand why Naminé acted the way she did. "I just wish she didn't have to be so...so..."
"Freaky?" Ven supplied offhandedly with a flick of his hand, his expression signifying that he was dead serious with his suggestion. While she knew that while he didn't believe in the superstitious stories which were flung around about the girl, he still had the sense to be frightened of her and steered clear of the young blonde, for which she was grateful. She didn't know if she could protect Ven from the wrath of the scorned Princess as well.
Aqua laughed at this and shook her head out of amusement. "I was actually going for difficult."
"Oh. Difficult." He looked baffled as he scratched at the back of his head, his nose wrinkling as he mulled it over in his mind. After a while he shrugged dismissively. "I guess that works too. Although I wouldn't know; I haven't had to deal with her. I just know what you and the others tell me!" He declared simply, a large grin appearing on his face, almost distracting her from the fact that his eyes didn't seem as bright as they usually were. Almost.
Her hands twitched by her sides. She wanted so badly to relieve his stress, to heal him of his aches and pains but she knew he wasn't having any of it. To stop herself from giving into her urges, she tucked her hands beneath her thighs.
"Ventus! Get back to work! Stop slacking off or I'll have your hide!" A loud voice barked from the other end of the kitchen.
The two of them looked up, their expressions surprised, before the young blond sprung to his feet and raked a hand through his unruly hair. "Oops... I didn't think he'd catch onto me so quickly. I've gotta go Aqua!" He cast a sympathetic glance in her direction as he dashed away before his superior punished him for slacking off. "Hang in there and I'll see you tonight!" He called back with a slight grin.
She waited until he disappeared into the midst of people bustling about the kitchen, a wistful smile reaching her lips, before lowering her gaze to her thighs. Slowly, she pulled her hands out and folded them on top of her small knees.
She couldn't shake the feeling that something was up with him; she could see it in the way he acted. While on the outside he was still the same old Ven, there was something not quite right. For starters, his eyes lacked their usual exuberance, his normally well-defined hair appeared scruffy and unkempt and he looked absolutely exhausted. She had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn't just because of work, but she couldn't think of what else could be bothering him and she would never know if he didn't open up to her. Aqua didn't know what was going on, but she was determined to keep an eye on him and make sure nothing bad happened.
She turned in her chair to watch him as he retrieved the spatula from where he'd left it and went back to scraping the stoves, his forehead already beaded with sweat. After a moment, he slumped forward, a frown creasing his normally smooth brow. She needed to do something for him. She simply couldn't let him go on like this.
Aqua knitted her eyebrows together and discreetly extended her hand towards him, murmuring a soft incantation under her breath. Her fingertips glowed light green for a moment before shooting towards the blond hunched over the gruelling stoves and encasing his exhausted body. A smile appeared on her face as Ven straightened hurriedly, his lips parting with shock as he examined the green tint to his skin. He immediately found her gaze, his expression showing a hint of disapproval, but his eyes shone with unspoken gratitude.
She dipped her head and swivelled back around, leaning her chin into her palm, still smiling to herself.
Little did she know, a figure watched her fixedly from the shadows, a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of their lips hidden behind a mirrored helmet as they backed into the wall and melted out of sight.
····» ₪ «····
Naminé despised her room.
It was not the layout which displeased her, nor the way in which it was decorated; but in where it was situated. Instead of overlooking the courtyard much like she would have preferred, her room faced out towards the rest of the kingdom, providing her with the view of a vast area of beautiful looking landscape she would never be able to step foot into. It was cruel and somewhat taunting, she often thought, to place her in a room where she could almost taste the freedom she yearned for, yet keeping her locked far away from it.
The young girl glared openly at the world spread out invitingly before her, just on the other side of a measly pane of glass, and turned away, disgusted. It was unfair that her cousin, who was sole heir to the throne and an entire year younger than her, was allowed to venture outside of the castle walls with nobody but a small group of guards to escort her to wherever she wanted to go. She would often disappear to unknown places for days on end, only to come home and brag about her adventures until Naminé wanted to drive a fork through the pathetic girl's eye.
The one thing she wanted above all else was adventure and excitement and freedom. Of course, Xion knew this, which was why she acted so arrogant around her, but Naminé had learned to ignore her and let her say what she wanted. If she didn't, she would end up going stir crazy. The whole time her cousin was gallivanting around the country, she was stuck within the walls of the cold stone castle belonging to her Uncle, who was reluctant to even so much as let her out of his sight. To this day, she still failed to understand why the King refused to let her outside of the castle walls. Her lacklustre life was slowly beginning to suffocate her, but he didn't seem to care.
Naminé flopped down onto her bed face first in the most unladylike fashion and buried her face in her velvet pillows. If there were one thing in the world she could wish for and have that wish granted, it would be for her to embark on an adventure in the outside world, with nobody but herself for company. But alas, her prayers had yet to be answered.
She remembered the days before Xehanort, before the fire and before she lost herself to the person she was now, when her parents were still alive and her life was oh-so perfect. Not only did she have everything she could have ever wished for, but she was also surrounded by people who loved and adored her, doting on her every word or action. She remembered how her parents had shown her off to the kingdom, their faces gleaming with pride as people from all over the world travelled to the Enlightened Realm...just to see her! She could still remember their laughing faces when she tugged a little too hard on a poor man's beard, enough to make him yelp, and the way they had pried her hands away, cooing at her.
And then...everything suddenly changed.
A fire engulfed the castle on the night of October 5th, a mere few weeks before her sixth birthday, destroying everything she had ever known. Her parents, her friends and her servants perished in that fire; everyone did…everyone but her. That one night was forever scarred into her mind, reminding her of her own helplessness; she hadn't been able to save her parents. She had barely managed to save herself. The burns she had received had been near fatal. If it hadn't been for that one boy who had hauled her from the flaming debris and dragged her to the nearest healer, she was sure that she would have died, too.
Above all else, that was the one memory which had stuck into her mind until this very day; the one of the boy who had saved her life that night. He hadn't been much older than her, she remembered, and he had appeared out of nowhere, surrounded by smoke and ash, telling her everything was going to be okay before grabbing her arms and throwing them over his shoulders. He then proceeded to pull her from the flames, taking her far away from the castle which continued to burn and roar, sending embers up into the night sky.
By the time they arrived at the nearest town, she had passed out, the pain of her injuries becoming too much. He was nowhere to be seen when she awoke the next morning, almost like he had vanished without a trace. She had asked and asked about him until she felt sick to the stomach, but the townsfolk said that he must have disappeared during the night, while they were treating her. Not long after, her Uncle came for her and took her away to live with him in his castle on the other side of the Realm and she soon forgot about the mysterious boy. Of course, she knew that a boy had rescued her from the flames, but his face was nothing but a blur to her know, locked within her own unconscious mind.
While this would infuriate others, Naminé had soon learned just to let it go. It was too traumatic to try and remember his face, anyway.
Slowly, still caught within the cruel web of nostalgia, Naminé flipped onto her back and threw her hands towards the ceiling, gazing tiredly at the long sleeves which covered her milky skin. She knew that if she pushed them back, she would see the brutally twisted, bright pink scar tissue stained across her tiny arms. The burns she had received on that dreadful night; the very burns serving as a painful reminder of her horrible past, but also of her parents and what her life used to be like. Even beneath the terror, there was still beauty, she realised. Her mother would have been proud to hear her think like that.
With a soft sigh, she dropped her arms back to her sides and stared up at the intricate ceiling above her, not caring if she crumpled her already dirtied dress. She continued to stare vacantly up at the interesting patterns winding across the ceiling of her room until the sound of horses hooves attracted her attention back to the window. She leapt to her feet with the grace of a cat and hurried cautiously over to her window seat, peering past the heavy drapes to see what — or more appropriately, who — was drawing near to the castle.
King Xehanort's standard sat atop a rather grand looking carriage, which was being pulled by two magnificent black horses, their bridles clinking with every shuddering step they took. They slowed into a walking trot as the gates opened in welcome, allowing them access to the prison-like castle.
Naminé watched on silently as the carriage disappeared underneath the portcullis before falling gracefully against the mound of pillows she had piled on her window seat, a frown etched across her delicate features.
She had a feeling she knew who would be sitting in that posh little carriage and the thought didn't exactly bring her much joy. If her cousin had indeed returned from her trip in the north, then things were about to get very complicated for her, not to mention somewhat annoying. Her cousin was a spoilt, snotty brat, worse even than herself, which was an immense achievement by any standards, she had to admit. It wasn't her presence which annoyed her, per se, but her general manner and the way in which she reacted to others. She would walk around with a permanent scowl on her face, throwing fits whenever she didn't get her way or when somebody said the wrong thing. Her part-time servant, a young boy who was quite close with Naminé's own maid, almost always seemed to suffer from the brunt of the teenager's rage. While she herself might often find servants being punished quite an amusing thing, there was something about this boy getting hurt which made her stomach churn. This was partly why Naminé allowed Aqua so much time off whenever Xion happened to be around. She knew that the woman cared deeply for the boy's well-being and hated to see him hurt. She also knew that she would do anything to protect him, even if her own life were at risk.
Foolish little Aqua.
She didn't understand it herself; why would somebody emotionally attach oneself to another person on such a significant and personal level? While she may have been that way inclined when she lived with her parents, things were different now and she had long since learned not to let her feelings get in the way. Xehanort had drummed that into her not long after she moved in.
In some ways, she sorely missed the carefree, good old days...
At this, Naminé's gaze fell back to her covered arms. Beneath those sleeves lay the past she had been trying to forget, trying to run from for years. Slowly and deliberately, she began to peel the material away from her flesh, staring blankly at her skin as it changed from pearly white to a harsh pink. Once she had rolled her sleeves up to her elbows, she held her arms out in front of her and observed the scars which criss-crossed her the surface of her skin. She reached a hand out to trace them, but jerked away when somebody knocked at her door.
"Miss Naminé?"
It was Aqua.
The girl hurriedly began to yank her sleeves back over her stained skin, desperate to cover the untold horror covering her arms, while keeping her eyes trained on the door. How stupid of her to display her scars so freely, especially when anybody could walk into her room at any given moment. Xehanort was the only person who had physically seen them, although Aqua had been told about them. Naminé had always refused to allow the girl to bathe her, or forced her to close her eyes when the woman became particularly insistent. She had yet to see them and Naminé wanted to keep it that way for as long as she could manage. If Aqua were to see them, it would be humiliating for she was the only person to actually tolerate her presence. If she saw them, she would surely treat her differently and that was the last thing she wanted.
Aqua's voice came again, filled with worry this time, "Miss Naminé? Are you alright?"
She should take care to lock the door next time. Or better yet, not look at her scars at all and then maybe she wouldn't find herself in such desperate situations.
"I'm fine." The blonde growled in response, struggling to keep her voice even. She fussed with her skirts for a moment before sitting a little straighter and tilting her chin up. "You may enter, servant."
Uncertainly, Aqua slid into the room and closed the door behind her, a peculiar looking piece of material folded over one of her arms. She immediately looked towards the blonde expectantly, waiting for permission to speak.
In a bored manner, Naminé ran her eyes over the woman. She was pretty, the girl realised. She had cropped blue hair which framed her delicate heart-shaped face and made her bright sapphire eyes stand out even more. Her lips were small but full and rosy in colour. Her breasts, which were clearly visible even beneath the baggy dress she was wearing — much to the delight of the male servant population, she was sure — were shapely to the point where they were considered voluptuous. Her dress, despite this, was that of the attire of all of the other servants in the castle; black and simple, gathering around the waist before falling loosely, reaching to the floor and cut around the base of her neck. The sleeves reached her elbows and puffed out slightly, with silly looking frills lining the edges.
Aqua fidgeted under her intense gaze, which brought Naminé's eyes flying back to her face. For a long time, the girl merely stared at her from underneath hooded eyes before turning away and waving a tired hand at the woman.
Only after a moment's hesitation did the servant speak again, her voice quiet and subdued, "His Majesty has demanded your presence at dinner this evening."
Naminé felt her eyebrows rise up into her hairline at this. He 'demanded' her presence, did he? He clearly wasn't the type to ask for anything nicely, but she couldn't really say that she was surprised. With a sigh, the girl rose to her feet and began walking slowly around her room, trailing her fingers across the many pictures she had nailed to her wall. "The occasion?" She asked blankly, knowing full well what Aqua would say before even opening her pretty little mouth.
"His daughter has arrived home from her journey across the country earlier this afternoon." The young woman replied softly as she continued to hover by the door, watching the girl walk in circles around her large room, most likely gauging her reaction to the news.
The blonde came to a halt in front of one of her earlier drawings and sighed heavily, feeling as though she had just aged a significant amount of years. "Just as I suspected. And I had been hoping that it would be a messenger announcing her untimely demise at the hands of a mob of some kind." She muttered morbidly, glancing up when she heard Aqua gasp. What? Didn't she like the sound of her musing over the possibility of her cousin's death? It wasn't as bad as what she usually thought, in any case. She would often revel in the thought of scraping the girl's pretty blue eyes out with a spoon. Naminé tossed the servant an amused glance before turning back towards the wall, her expression becoming thoughtful as the gazes up at the scruffy drawing in front of her. "Oh alright. I shall attend dinner, but do not expect me to stay very long. I do not enjoy her presence any less than I do his."
Aqua bowed her head respectfully, keeping her eyes downcast, "Of course, Miss Naminé." She peeked curiously up through her bangs at the young girl suddenly, her voice softening with kindness, "Should I have a bath ready for when you return?"
At this, Naminé clapped her hands together and twirled towards the young woman, her lips turning up into a beaming smile. "Yes Aqua, that would be most wonderful." She declared gleefully, stopping a few meters away from the maid. "Is that all?" She looked pointedly between Aqua and the red material folded over her arm.
Aqua jumped and gestured to the material with her free hand, her cheeks flushing slightly, "Oh, his Majesty wanted me to give you this." She offered her arm out to the girl, waiting for her to take the item.
Curious, Naminé reached out and lifted it up, watching with delight as the deep red satin shimmered beneath her touch. "What is it?" She asked breathlessly, her eyes drawn to every crease and flutter of the material as it moved freely in her hands.
"A new dress." Upon seeing the joyful expression on the young girl's face, Aqua felt her own lips tug into a delighted smile. Nothing pleased her more than being able to make her mistress happy. It was rare but beautiful sight, she thought, to see such a smile on the girl's face. She beamed and added thoughtfully, "I do believe that it is for you to wear to dinner this evening. It's quite beautiful."
Naminé was too awestruck by the dress' beauty to be brought down by the reason Aqua had given and began to spin on the spot, holding the dress against her. She watched on, fascinated, as the skirts fanned out and seemed to glow, like tiny embers with each movement she made.
And all too soon, the pleasant fantasy she had immersed herself in shattered.
Embers... Fire... Burning... Her hands jerked, the material slipping through her fingers slightly. Now she knew why he had given her this dress.
"Another one? My, my..." She murmured detachedly, holding the thing out at arm's length, wishing she didn't find it so repulsing now she knew the reason behind the colour. It really was quite pretty, which was a shame... "He is most certainly spoiling me, is he not?" She tried not to sound so hateful towards the old man, but it was hard and she was certain that her servant had picked up on it. Of course she had. Aqua could sense her emotions just like animals could sense a storm before it happened.
Noticing the sudden change in her mood, Aqua's smile faded and she quickly clasped her hands together, waiting for some form of outburst. "Will that be all Miss?" She asked curtly, keeping her eyes focused on the ground by her feet.
Naminé folded the dreadful thing over her arm and nodded, "Yes, I believe so. Thank you for informing me." She turned away and headed towards the corner of her room where a small screen stood, throwing a glance over her shoulder at the last second. "I do not need your assistance with changing this evening. You may leave now."
She found it amusing to watch Aqua literally turn tail and flee from her presence as soon as she gave the word, her hair flying wildly behind her. Silly, silly Aqua. She would never get it, but that wasn't her problem.
The blonde tossed her new dress over the top of the silk screen before stepping behind it and reaching back to unbutton her dress. It took her longer than it would have done if she had let Aqua help, but Naminé was in no mood to have the servant chatter away to her like she usually did every day.
She finally freed herself of the accursed thing and allowed it to tumble around her ankles, leaving her standing naked except for her stockings and pants. She grabbed at the dress dangling tauntingly in front of her and held it up to her with a slight sigh. It was another of Xehanort's cruel gestures, she was sure of it. Either that or he thought she might like the colour. Doubtful. He knew she despised anything that could be related with fire.
Ever since she had moved into his castle, the man had always taunted her; like one time he had order the chef to cook rabbit, knowing how much she hated the idea of the innocent little creature being roasted up and served to her on a silver platter. Xion and Xehanort had eaten it without fuss, but she had been sick for days, refusing to eat or drink anything until Aqua brought up her favourite hazelnut soup. Then there had been another time when Xehanort had forced her to sit nearest to the fireplace one evening when a King from a neighbouring Kingdom arrived. She had been a nervous wreck for the entire evening, freaking out over the smallest of flickers and had ended up breaking down in sobs by the time the man had left.
Each and every time, she could quite clearly recall the cruel, cold smirk on Xehanort's face as he watched her distress, not bothering to ask her if she was alright or offer her any kind of comfort. Aqua would always rescue her eventually, but each time she would be much too late; the damage had already been done. It was torture, but there was nothing she could do. It was only recently that Naminé had started to grow a backbone and defy him. Needless to say, he didn't like it, not one bit and his taunts began to escalate bit by bit.
Regardless of his reasoning and her resentment towards the colour choice, it was a new dress and she was going to make the most out of it. Cautiously, she stepped into the satiny material and buttoned herself up, albeit somewhat messily. When she turned to face the mirror behind her, she smiled at first, liking the way the material hugged her waist and billowed gracefully out to her ankles. It had a round neckline, stopping just short of revealing her collarbone and the bodice had a delicate swirled design across the front. But most of importantly, it had sleeves—
She jerked away. It had sleeves alright, sleeves which didn't quite cover her wrists.
"Oh no... No." Naminé suddenly choked, her hands rushing to cover her bare wrists. "No, no, no, no!" Much to her dismay, the beautiful lacy sleeves did not quite cover the scars on her wrists. Tears prickled in the corner of her vision, but she harshly wiped them away, her fingernails catching at her skin. She began pulling and tugging at the material above her wrists, but it would slip back up, revealing the mutilated skin and displaying it for the whole world to see.
Xehanort had not only chosen this dress to cause her distress through the use of the bright colour she related with fire, but to humiliate her, also.
This dress... It was a test. If she wore it, he would have the joy of watching her struggle to contain her anger all evening but if she wore a different one, he would know that she was afraid, a coward trapped within her own scarred body.
Naminé held back an angered noise mixed between a snarl and a sob.
What kind of monster was he?
····» ₪ «····
"I had such a wonderful time, father!" Xion gushed, her hands moving animatedly as she spoke, her eyes alight. Xehanort watched her with a bored expression on his face, his eyes flickering every so often to the door he was sitting opposite. Unaware of his disinterest, the girl continued chattering, "Truly, I have never seen such a beautiful place before! The sea was crystal clear, the sand was soft, the sky was bright and it was a simply lovely—"
The girl was cut off as the doors to the large hall were thrown open, slamming against the wall behind them, their hinges groaning under the strain. Naminé stood in the doorway, her head thrust up high, her eyes narrowed into slits as she surveyed the scene before her. Her two family members were seated at a long table which could easily fit forty people, its surface set with chandeliers, horrid looking plants in drab vases and the usual cutlery they had out every evening. Xehanort was facing the door, clearly awaiting her arrival if the look on his face was anything to go by. The blonde stiffened, her hands balling into fists by her sides. She wanted nothing more than to tear down one of the many swords nailed to the wall and run it through his chest. Maybe then he would stop staring at her as though she were his laboratory experiment.
She was wearing the dress Xehanort had oh-so kindly gifted her with, but a long, fluid cloak hung around her shoulders, cleverly concealing her wrists from view. She knew she wouldn't be able to get away with it for very long, but she didn't fancy being gawked at while walking around the castle. It was bad enough that the servants hovering by the head of the table were already following her every move with their deep set eyes, shrinking back from her as she boldly stepped forwards. She didn't even bother sparing them a glance, knowing what she would see in their gazes. They hated her enough as it was, if they caught wind of her scars, life would never be the same for her again. She couldn't even imagine how Aqua would react...
While Xion turned around in her seat to glower at her cousin, Xehanort smirked victoriously, his gaze travelling down her swathed form. "Ah, Naminé." He commented dryly, his haunting golden eyes slowly returning to her face, "I see you have decided to join us."
Naminé ignored him completely, turning her gaze towards the dark haired girl seated opposite her father, her expression tight. "I would say that it is good to see you, Xion, but quite frankly, that would be a terrible lie." When the girl let out a noise of protest, the blonde cut her off with a wave of her hand as she moved towards the table, choosing to sit as far away from the two as humanely possible.
One of the servants who had been standing by the table when she had entered rushed over and pulled out a chair for her, keeping their head bowed until she sat down on the plush cushioning. She tilted her head towards the boy and shot him a smile, but he was already scurrying away, his head ducked beneath the line of his shoulders.
The blonde's smile promptly fell and she begrudgingly turned her piercing gaze back to her cousin, who was still silently fuming at her comment. She smirked a little and shrugged in an offhanded manner, "And to think I had hoped you would have been kidnapped on your travels in the north. Shame."
Xion slammed her tiny fists against the table, making the plates and cutlery nearest to her rattle disconcertingly, just as Naminé had expected she would. "Father!" She yelped, her voice an entire octave higher than it usually was, her cheeks burning bright pink in colour with indignation, "You can't let her speak to me like that!"
Xehanort didn't seem all too concerned by his daughter's outburst as his eyes had not once left the blonde's face. After a moment longer of staring at his young niece, his lips lifted into a cruel smirk and he gestured to the cloak nestled around her shoulder. "Naminé. Take off that ridiculous thing right this instant."
Naminé's mouth twisted down into a defiant grimace and she sat a little straighter, her eyes hard and cold. "Would it really bother you if I kept it on?" She asked sweetly, her voice holding a deadly promise behind it. "I believe I may be coming down with something. It would be terribly unfair if I happened to pass it on to you. Besides, it is cold in here, why should I—"
All of a sudden, Xehanort rose from his chair, his decrepit form large and challenging. "The only thing catching in this room is your lack of manners, young lady." He pointed a crooked hand at her, his voice lowering to a quiet, angry growl. "You will remove that cloak this instance!"
She kept her hands firmly by her sides, staring up at him with a hate filled gaze. He stared right back, his golden eyes narrowing as he watched the conflicting emotions flit across her face. She saw no way out of this; if she didn't remove the cloak, he would only choose to humiliate her on another day, when she was least expecting it. She would have to take it off and then they would see... They would all see what haunted her behind closed doors and they would judge her terribly for it. This, she realised, was the ultimate humiliation, the final straw. This was the line that should never be crossed, but Xehanort was about to leap over it like a horse would a fence. She couldn't outright refuse his request; not without putting herself up for a flurry of questions she was not willing to answer. She had no other option. Slowly, with shaking hands, she reached up to untie the string holding up her cloak. With a soft rustle, the fabric fell away from her shoulders and pooled around her waist, leaving her defenceless to all of their intrusive glares.
She tried to tug her sleeves down, but she knew from previous experience that it was futile. After much wrestling, she gave up, her shoulders heaving. Hot tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them fall, blinking rapidly to keep them at bay. She ground her teeth and fidgeted in her seat, keeping her eyes downcast, not wanting to see the horror in their gazes. It was only when her Uncle let out a small noise of triumph did she look up.
Xehanort's smirk widened into a full on triumphant grin as Naminé's scars became visible to all of those in the room. He sat back down, staring across at her silently, his gaze speaking a thousand cruel words. 'That's right,' His eyes said, 'You're mine, so learn your place.'
Naminé felt sick. She was tired of this old fool and his games. More than ever, she wanted so desperately to be free of the castle walls which had confined her for so long. Searching to take her mind off things, she grabbed the serviette sitting beside her plate and tucked it into the neckline of her dress, keeping her gaze trained firmly on the empty seat across from her as she waited for something to be said.
Xion, who had been wearing one of the most unattractive pouts up until now, was staring at her arms with a disgusting expression mixed between horror and fascination plastered across her face. "What happened?" She whispered, her eyes fixated on the pink welts marred into her skin
"The fire." Naminé replied bluntly, grabbing her fork and spearing a piece of steaming broccoli, not even bothering to attempt to hide her mutilated skin by this point. Even after answering her question, she could still feel Xion's gaze boring into the side of her face. She slammed her fork down and whirled on her cousin, her temper reaching boiling point, "What? Are my scars more interesting than your beloved trip all of a sudden? What on earth is your problem? Go on then! Talk! Talk like you always do!"
The girl's face flushed and she instantly ducked her head, keeping her lips sealed. She didn't say a word, but had the dignity to look scolded.
Naminé shoved her plate away and stood, grabbing her cloak and yanking it around her shoulders roughly. "I'm not hungry. I shall be retiring to my room to rest." She tossed a challenging glare in Xehanort's direction, but he continued to watch her with his owlish eyes, saying nothing to stop her.
She let out a disgusted noise and broke away from his evil stare, storming towards the door, not waiting for the servants to rush over and open it for her. Much to her surprise, before her fingers could come into contact with the brass handle, it gave way to her and swung outwards, revealing a surly looking guard kitted in full armour standing in the entrance. He glanced over her tiny form, barely even skimming her uncovered wrists before cautiously side-stepping her and entering the massive hall. "Master Xehanort, sir." He called gruffly, bowing lowly in the doorway.
Naminé backed out into the hallway, trying to get as far away from the massive, intimidating man as she could manage; meaning to hurry on back to her room where she hoped a bath was awaiting her.
"Ah, Lexaeus." Xehanort replied in his usual gravelly tone. "You have tracked down the man who attacked my daughter's convoy, I trust?"
The blonde came up short, her hand shooting out to the nearby wall to support herself. A servant whom had been walking by suddenly increased their pace, keeping their heads ducked behind the pile of laundry they were carrying, but Naminé was too absorbed in Xehanort's conversation to even bother noting the woman's amusing reaction. She turned back towards the dining hall, curling a hand around the doorframe as her cousin spoke.
"You caught the man who tried to have me killed?" Xion whispered in a small voice filled with awe.
Naminé stifled an unattractive snort, her hand gripping at the wood. She was surprised that somebody hadn't already attempted to kill the precious little princess in her sleep. Lord knows how much she'd wanted to when she was a lot younger, but Aqua had always been there to undermine her well thought out plans. Xion, although younger than her, was as bad as Xehanort; she had taunted her throughout her entire stay here, sneering cruelly at her or laughing at her when she fell over. Over time, Naminé's shell hardened and she stopped smiling around them, wishing to defend herself from the evilness that was her estranged family. She didn't understand how one person could hate her so much.
"Indeed we did, ma'am." Lexaeus growled in his deep, gruff voice, "We have detained him. Dilan and I will be escorting him down to the cells at once."
"Excellent work, Lexaeus." Xehanort applauded, morbidly delighted by the news. "I congratulate you once again on your swift actions." The man paused and chuckled suddenly, the very sound sending cold shivers down her spine. "I shall have him executed tomorrow at noon in front of the whole kingdom for his crimes."
She began to back away, having decided that she had heard enough. Naminé felt pity towards the man as the execution was mentioned. She personally had never had the stomach for Xehanort's degrading public "gatherings", as he so liked to call them. It was not the actual deaths of the citizens which made her insides squirm, but the way in which he would have them tortured and humiliated before granting them the mercy of death on swift wings. It was brutal and downright disgusting, but it was not her place to speak out about such things and so, she was forced to watch as the citizen pleaded for their life, only to have it so cruelly taken away from them. She could only pray that the man's death came to him a lot quicker than some of the others.
All of a sudden, a hand landed on her shoulder, causing the young girl to whirl around out of surprise, a strangled gasp slipping past her lips. She prepared to scream out for help, but it promptly died in her throat when she saw that it was only Aqua, wearing a strangely concerned expression. She relaxed slightly. "My lady? When you did not return, I came searching..." The young woman trailed off, her eyes widening as her gaze landed on the girl's naked wrists.
Naminé inwardly cursed and hid her arms behind the cloak, but the damage had already been done.
The young woman reached for Naminé's arms, her expression appalled. "Miss, your arms..." The girl resisted, holding her wrists closer to her chest, well out of the servants reach. Aqua's eyebrows furrowed into a frown, her hand hovering in front of the young girl. "You've hurt yourself. Please, Miss... Let me help you!"
Her obvious concern annoyed the girl. It wasn't her job to dote over her in this manner and then there was the fact that she was technically off duty, so why was she here? "Do not fret so, servant." Naminé murmured, glancing away from Aqua as she stared down at her, a hand hovering in front of her mouth. "They are very old."
This is what she had been afraid of; not the hateful stares or the traded whispers, but the pity. Pity was not something that she neither needed nor valued. It was for the weak-minded, not somebody as tall and as proud as herself. She was better than that, better than pity. But of course, Aqua didn't know this, nor seem to care.
"I...I see." The woman looked away sharply upon seeing how empty Naminé's eyes had become. Aqua swallowed slowly, trying to force the horrible, twisted image of the young girl's burned wrists from her mind as she spoke in a shaky voice, "W-would you like me to escort you back to your room?"
When Naminé glanced up again, she felt exhausted, as if all of the life had suddenly been drained right out of her. She shook her head, her golden hair whipping against her pale cheeks. "Go home, Aqua." She murmured quietly, turning her back to the servant, hugging her arms to her chest. "I do not require your services this evening. I shall take a bath in the morning."
Not bothering to wait for her servant to give her a response, Naminé began making her way back to her room, her head held high in an attempt to disguise the pain which was rooted so deeply within her, but it was a foolish attempt. She wasn't fooling anyone anymore. The scars she was forced to wear across her body were more than just welts and bumps melded into her skin; they told a tale of a terrible past which didn't want to be forgotten. No matter how many times she would bury the memories deep within her heart, they would always rise back to the surface, reminding her.
Her pain, her fear and her horror went a lot deeper than she was willing to let on.
A/N: So...what do you think? Is it a good start? I'm hoping that it'll be a little different compared to what's already out there. :3
Before I say anything else — this story is most likely going to be pretty long — a lot longer than anything I have ever attempted before, let's put it that way. This means it'll be a slow build. I can't really afford to rush it as I have a lot of details to cover. I hope you guys will find this journey an interesting read! ^^
As you can see, I've presented Naminé in what I hope you'll see as a fresh and unique way. I have to admit, I loved writing her like this; her attitude and the manner in which she speaks/interprets things is very interesting. Of course, she has a dark past, which I will be exploring in more depth in some of the later chapters. Unfortunately, there's no real Roxas interaction yet. This saddens me. But he'll be officially arriving soon, that much I can promise you. xD
Thank you all for reading, feel free to drop by with a review and tell me what you think; thoughts, praise and criticism are all welcome!
Until next time!
~ AusisWinds-13