For trope_bingo prompt au: other. Utena fusion, genderflipped, dark themes, etc.
Her name was Micaiah. She had silver hair, golden eyes and longed to become a prince. She was smart, talented, athletic, they idolized her and yet they feared her. Nobody knew where she came from or why she was here, only that her presence would change life at Sienne Academy forever.
-x-
The first time she saw him was during a fencing match. Sad eyes and a youthful face surrounded by blue hair, swathed in white robes with the sun shining on him. She couldn't exactly say it was love at first sight, the practical side of her knew no such thing was possible, but she was definitely drawn to him.
"I wish you luck, my lady." Even his voice was soft and sad.
"Thank y-" She was cut off by a tall dark-haired woman forcing herself between them, delivering such a slap to the boy's cheek.
"What do you think you're doing?! You are the Rose Prince, and that means you belong to me," the woman snapped. The boy made a small, pained sound and mumbled an apology under his breath, and the woman huffed. "See that it does not happen again, or I'll punish you even worse next time."
Fury rose in Micaiah, and when she learned the woman would be her next opponent she vowed to beat her at all costs. What kind of cruel person would abuse such a sweet young man?
-x-
She won easily, to the surprise of everyone but herself. Of course, Micaiah thought, how were they supposed to know she'd been practicing since she was young? Even when she couldn't afford lessons she read all the books in the library, practiced with discarded lengths of wood until her form was perfect. She only knew she wanted to protect, being invited to Sienne Academy had been a random stroke of luck.
"Hmph." Her opponent tossed her head in disgust. "I guess he's yours now." She left the grounds and Micaiah shrugged. The young man smiled gently at her and bowed.
"Congratulations, my lady." After an initial moment of confusion, Micaiah shrugged and went to her next class. She didn't give the duel any more thought until later that night, when a tall green-haired man stopped her on her way to her room.
"Lady Micaiah, you've been reassigned. Follow me to your new quarters." Confused, she did as he asked, walking down many hallways and up many flights of stairs before she found herself looking at a lavishly decorated space. It reminded her of the manses she'd seen outside the rich homes back in Nevassa, it even had its own kitchen.
"Ah...it's lovely. What-"
"Lady Micaiah." It was the boy from earlier. He bowed to her and slowly reached for her hand. "I am Pelleas, the Rose Prince. It is an honor to share my living quarters with my new champion." What? Micaiah turned around to ask her escort what was meant by this, but he was already gone.
"Champion? I-I don't understand."
"You bested Lady Petrine in a duel," Pelleas explained. "The Rose Prince serves the victor in each of these duels, and unless you're bested next time, I am now yours."
"No." Micaiah shook her head. "No, a person doesn't simply belong to someone."
"Come inside, please." It was as if he hadn't heard a word she'd just said. "I'll have dinner brought to us, it's getting late and you must be hungry. I'm not much of a cook, and I'd hate for my champion to stand over a hot stove." He rang a small bell, and Micaiah decided it was pointless to say anything else for now. She'd only been here a week, after all, maybe someone would explain this "champion" business to her tomorrow.
Pelleas spoke very little during dinner and for the rest of the night, despite her efforts to engage him in conversation. He's shy, she decided. He'd open up to her later if he felt like it. She hoped so, anyway.
-x-
Over time, she did get to know him better. He was a gentle boy who disliked fighting and loved to care for plants and animals. He would often take her to visit his rose garden; according to the other students he'd been cultivating it since he was small and it was his pride and joy.
"I suppose that's why they call you the Rose Prince," Micaiah said, half-joking and half-serious. Pelleas blushed.
"Ah...yes, that could be one reason." He smiled, plucking a white rose from one of the bushes. "They've always been my favorite. Ever since I was small, I'd go out to the gardens to be among the roses whenever I felt lonely." Micaiah watched his fingers cradle the thorn-less stem and nodded.
"I've always been fond of them myself," she said. "Their scent...somehow, it always makes me think of the past."
"Oh?" He blinked. "If you don't mind my asking, Lady Micaiah...will you tell me a bit about your childhood? Where are you from? What was your family like?"
"Well..." She hesitated. She didn't like to talk about it; the memory of smoke and flames and the polished black coffins. Pelleas must have seen her tense; he gave her a concerned look and placed a hand on hers.
"I'm sorry, my lady, if it's too painful I won't ask again. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to," he said. Just hearing him say that and looking into his eyes made her want to trust him.
"My family is dead," she said. "I was raised by an old woman in the lesser part of Nevassa, and I taught myself how to use a sword. I...I don't remember my family, really." Pelleas's hand squeezed hers and she felt a strange warmth building in her.
"I'm so sorry to hear that," he said softly. "You must have been lonely all those years."
"I'd grown used to it," she said. "But, Pelleas...after spending the last month with you, I've realized it's nice to have someone beside me. Even if it's only an arrangement, I think...the two of us could become good friends." He didn't answer, only blushed and for a moment she wondered if she'd offended him.
"Here," he said after a moment, and gently tucked the white rose behind her ear. "Wear it, and always think of me even when we're apart. I swear to you, Lady Micaiah, as a Prince and as your friend, you'll never be alone again."
She took his hands in her own and fixed her eyes on his.
"As your champion and as your friend, Prince Pelleas, I promise from here on out to always protect you." A sense of pride filled her, and underneath it lay a sense of something else she couldn't quite put her finger on.
-x-
Nobody ever did tell her anything about the Rose Prince and champion business; anytime she tried to ask something seemed to stop her, and anytime she tried to look it up in the library the shelves were mysteriously empty.
Beneath her pride, that mysterious sense was growing. Something akin to dread, but more like concern. Ever since she'd won that duel with Petrine, something hadn't seemed right about the arrangement...actually, she was beginning to think something wasn't quite right about the academy itself. The students were sociable, but secretive. She never saw any of the people in charge, or even heard from them. The friends she had weren't all that close; they talked about things but she never felt as comfortable with them as she did with Pelleas.
She faced many more challengers these days, all competing for a chance to claim the Rose Prince, and she handily won each time. Now that she had someone to protect, she could not afford to fail him.
One dark, moonless night, she lay awake in bed and realized she was falling in love with him.
-x-
"Come to the garden with me tonight," he whispered after her most recent duel. "I must speak to you."
"Of course." She found him waiting that night, holding a silver chain in his hand. When they sat down, she noticed his cheeks were redder than the roses themselves and he was trembling.
"Lady Micaiah," he began. "This goes against Sienne Academy's tradition, and I risk great retribution for what I'm about to do." His words made a cold pit form in her stomach; again with that business! She'd finally bitten the bullet and tried to ask people about it, but they'd pretend not to hear her. Every now and then she could feel eyes staring into the back of her head, cold and unforgiving.
"We've grown close in these last few months," he continued. "I know it's such a short time, but...I've never felt so connected to a person before. When I'm with you, I...I feel so alive, so warm, so wanted. No one's ever reached out to me the way you have!" He thrust his hand forward. "That's why I want you to have this. It's...been in my family for years. Please, say you'll take it."
"Oh..." It wasn't just a chain, it was a pendant with a small garnet hanging from it. "Oh, it's lovely..." He helped her put it on, their eyes met, and nothing needed to be said. The moment their lips touched, Micaiah forgot about everything else.
-x-
They kept their newfound romance a secret, at his insistence. By now, Micaiah had given up trying to figure out the mystery and accepted it as a stricter than usual school rule. Among others they were simply the Rose Prince and his champion, treasuring the moments they could let down the barriers and love each other.
Some months later, she was walking to her next class when a pair of hands grabbed her and pulled her down the corridor into a darkened room.
"You've been busy lately, haven't you." The light clicked on; a pair of angry red eyes looked into hers and she tensed. He was another face from her past, one she'd tried with all her might to block out.
"You."
"I thought you knew better," he said sternly. "Didn't I tell you many times before not to get involved with their kind?" Micaiah narrowed her eyes and shoved his hands from her shoulders. Soren had been a surly brat when she'd last seen him, and he hadn't changed a bit.
"He's not like other beorc," she said coldly. "He truly cares for me. I know the circumstances we met under and the arrangement we're in is-"
"It's nothing to do with that," Soren cut her off. "You know why we can't get involved with them. Our kind has been shunned and despised by the full-blooded for centuries, and this boy of yours will be no exception when he discovers your mark." He pulled her left glove off and Micaiah's stomach flip-flopped. So far she'd been able to get away with wearing her gloves at all times with the excuse that her hands were sensitive to cold. But she knew sooner or later Pelleas might see her with them off, and she was trying not to think about that.
"He'll never know," she whispered. "I can pass it off as something else. A tattoo, a birthmark-"
"At best, he'll think you're a spirit charmer," Soren said. "But eventually they figure it out. If you become too close..." His eye twitched for a moment. "You're not to see that boy ever again."
"You can't tell me what to do," Micaiah snapped. "I love him, Soren, and I won't hurt him! Not after all the promises I made him!"
"Hah." Soren tossed his hair over one shoulder. "From what I hear, Prince Pelleas is little more than an empty vessel with no self-worth. He'll hardly be surprised if you leave him. Especially if you lose your next duel." Empty vessel. The feeling of dread bubbled in her as she remembered Petrine, the way the other students treated Pelleas, his sad expressions. Dread suddenly became anger; she pulled back and slapped Soren across the face.
"Don't ever talk about him like that again! I'll never lose, nor will I leave his side!" Soren rubbed his slapped cheek for a moment, then grabbed her shoulders, pushing her up against the wall.
"You're as stupid as they are. Throwing it all away for something as useless as love. Even knowing that for us, the cost of love is greater than it would be for two beorc!" Again she shoved him away, her chest tight with rage.
"Leave, Soren."
"Fine." He turned around. "But you know as well as I do that the day will come. And because of the beorc you've chosen to fall in love with, the consequence could be more than either of you bargained for."
He slammed the door behind him, and Micaiah stood still, breathing hard as his words echoed in her head. You know what will happen. He'll find you out. She knows perfectly well; his secret, her secret, the two combined could create havoc beyond imagination.
-x-
Soren came to see her again, several times, still warning her to leave Pelleas. He always managed to corner her while she was alone, they would argue and when he left she would be more confused and angry than ever. Eventually she realized his were the eyes that kept boring into her every time she'd tried to find out about the duels and the Rose Prince's secret.
And then there was Pelleas. Their romance continued to thrive, but every few nights he'd disappear and come back in the morning, quiet and unresponsive. The feeling of dread continues to build, and one night she decided to follow him.
The Chancellor's manse was miles away from the academy, up on a lone hill. The moment she set foot onto the property a chill ran up her spine. Turn back. Don't go any further. But she kept going; when she realized there was no way for her to sneak into the manse she climbed a tree near a window. Inside she saw a room even fancier than Pelleas's, and the shadow of someone on the wall.
"You're quiet tonight," a voice murmured. The Chancellor, she thought. His voice was appropriately chilling.
"Ah...my apologies," came the second voice, and her stomach nearly leapt up into her throat. That can't be...
"I don't like when you're quiet," the Chancellor said sternly. "We've been over this before, Pelleas. I own you." A cry of pain. "You're mine. You do everything for my sake, remember? You promised..." Another cry; Micaiah felt like she was going to be sick. It was Pelleas, it had to be, and yet her mind cried out in denial, not wanting this to be true. "Do I need to remind you of what will happen if you break our contract?"
"Ah...no!" Pelleas cried. Micaiah couldn't see what was going on but part of her could almost guess and she violently pushed it away. "Please, master, I beg your forgiveness, please stop...!"
"Your insolence will not be toleratre," the Chancellor hissed. "You will correct your mistakes. You will end this ridiculous farce before it goes any further. You are nothing, Rose Prince, but an empty vessel. You are nobody. You belong to me." He's nothing but an empty vessel.
"Yes..." Pelleas gasped. "Yes...my lord Persis."
Micaiah scrambled down the tree, ignoring the tears the bark made in her skirt and stockings, and fled the property. It's a dream, it's all a dream, it must be a dream. Please let it be a dream. Her eyes burned, but she was too angry to cry. This explained too much. The duels, Pelleas being given to the strongest like some sort of trophy, his submissive behavior. Everything. Everything.
She fell into bed without bothering to change. That night, she dreamed of a rose crushed and broken against the pavement, and woke up in tears.
-x-
A week after the incident, she'd managed to push it to the back of her mind. Pelleas gave no impression of what had happened, remaining by her side as he always did. When he held her hands and kissed her, she knew he meant it. They were wrong. Soren and the Chancellor were insane, claiming they knew her and Pelleas better than they knew themselves.
One night, their kisses grew more and more intense and suddenly she was gripped by a desire, a need for him. She needed to prove once and for all that they belonged only to each other. When she looked into his eyes, she knew he wanted the same from her.
No words could describe it. All she could feel were his hands, his mouth, his body against hers; all she could hear was him whispering her name. Inside her, he was warm and throbbing and they fit so perfectly together. She never wanted this moment to end, but when it did he was still there kissing her eyes and cheeks and lips, stroking her hair.
"I will always be yours," he whispered. "Always."
"I know." She pulled the quilt over the two of them. Nothing will come between us. Nothing.
-x-
It was the little things, at first. Pelleas started spending more and more time at the manse, and the duels became harder. She almost lost several times, and her opponents would regard her with glances of cold pity. Soren stopped showing up, but she could still feel his eyes staring into her.
The Chancellor appeared one day, before a crowd. Tall and slender with long black hair, white robes not unlike those Pelleas wore. He smiled, but there was malice behind that smile. That night Pelleas disappeared for a whole week and when he came back he seemed broken. They hadn't made love since that one night, and soon he stopped kissing her and holding her hand at all. The rose he'd given her that day in the garden began to wilt and dry, petals falling faster than she could save them.
One night, the Chancellor took her to the balcony of his manse.
"I know who you are," he whispered. "You're just like him. A misfit who thought he could somehow change the system, but in the end only bringing his own sorrow." He cupped her chin in his hand. "History does have a way of repeating itself."
Suddenly, she understood everything.
-x-
"I was wondering when it would come to you," Soren said when she confronted him the next day. "You didn't really think I was trying to come between you two for the sake of it, did you?"
"You hated the beorc," Micaiah said. "Back then, you swore never to trust them as long as you lived."
"How old do you think I am, Micaiah?" he asked, catching her off guard.
"Late twenties," she guessed. "Early thirties?"
"I'll be ninety years old this year," he said. "And yet, I don't look a day over twenty. Micaiah, we age differently from beorc, and at one point we simply stop." He sighed. "I've been around. I know what happens when our kind gets too close."
"You fell in love," she said. "What happened? Did they betray you?"
"He didn't," Soren said. "Betrayal would have only been slightly worse than what happened..." He turned away from her. "I was twenty when I first came here and met Ike. We spent three years together before we..."
"Made love?"
"To put it in such flowery terms, yes," Soren chuckled darkly. "When a Branded has sexual relations with a beorc, it brings about disaster. It's been that way ever since Chancellor Persis has been in charge of Sienne Academy." He shook his head. "Everything went to hell after I slept with Ike. There was a great flood that lasted weeks, and one day...he simply disappeared." Micaiah's eyes widened.
"They didn't...kill him, did they?"
"Worse." Soren shuddered. "It was as if he'd never been. Only I remembered him, and every day I have to live with the guilt of having erased him from existence."
"Oh, Soren..."
"And the worst part?" He laughed bitterly. "I'd do it again. I regret nothing! Even if my being with Ike destroyed the world as we know it, I'd spend every second of every day with him!" He laughed again, somewhat maniacally. "I was a fool then, and I'm still a fool now. An old fool..."
Micaiah smiled sadly, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"I guess I'm a fool, too."
That night, she couldn't sleep. Pelleas was with the Chancellor again, and Soren's words echoed in her head over and over. When a beorc makes love to a Branded, it brings about disaster. She thought about that night with Pelleas, their bodies twined together as close as two could be, and tears came to her eyes. I've doomed him. Soon another flood or some other natural disaster would happen, and one day no one would remember Pelleas except for her.
I can't let that happen, she realized. There had to be something she could do. She'd sworn to always protect Pelleas, and no matter what the cost she would not let him be erased from history.
-x-
The storm came the next day, hard and loud and unforgiving. She rushed up the stairs to the dueling grounds where Pelleas stood before a cross, hands bound behind his back. Chancellor Persis stood beside him, clad in black robes and looking more sinister than ever.
"I did warn you, Rose Prince," he said coldly. "When one violates a Blood Pact, one brings upon the wrath of Ashera. And now, the one you love will arrive just in time to see you pay for your misdeeds!"
"NO!"
She shoved her way past the crowds to embrace, Pelleas, untying his bonds. She kissed him, then shoved him out of the way as the thunder rumbled. This is the only way. The only way!
"Micaiah!"
Light flooded the grounds. Her body screamed in pain before going completely numb, and she knew no more.
-EPILOGUE-
He was packed, he was ready, all he had left to do was say his goodbyes. He tied his pack shut and headed for a certain room, knocking at the door.
"It's open." He entered, finding Soren at his desk. He looked older, not quite ninety but still like he'd aged a bit for the first time in decades. He regarded Pelleas almost sadly.
"So you're really going."
"Everything's changed since that day," Pelleas said. "There's no reason for the Rose Prince anymore. I'm free...we're all finally free."
"Perhaps," Soren sighed. "I hear the Chancellor is still as strict as ever. He doesn't want things to change."
"He will," Pelleas said firmly. "Or at least he'll accept that the Blood Pacts were a bad idea to begin with." He sighed. "It wasn't always like this, Soren. We both know that."
"Only because only you and I bothered to do the research," Soren said bitterly. "Nothing has ever been as it seemed in Sienne Academy. It's been this way for centuries." Only after Micaiah's disappearance had they discovered that the laws forbidding the Branded to consort with any full-blooded laguz or beorc had been dictated by a Blood Pact signed by Pelleas's ancestors; in every generation a member of his family was forced to sign that pact, but Pelleas had been the last. Nobody would ever have to sign one again.
"It doesn't have to be anymore, though. Micaiah...she sacrificed herself to change everything," Pelleas said sadly. "When that light hit her, it seemed to hit everyone...the duels, the secrets, none of it made sense and it never did."
"Perhaps." Soren sighed. "You're really going to look for her, aren't you?"
"She's out there. Somehow I just know she is," Pelleas said. "I'll find her, and we'll be together again." Soren smiled a little.
"Say hello to her for me, if you do."
"I will." Pelleas hoisted his pack more firmly on his shoulder. "Farewell, Soren."
-x-
As Soren watched Pelleas leave, something began to blossom within him. He opened a drawer and took out a picture someone had sketched a long time ago.
"I wonder..."
The serious-faced blue-haired boy in the picture almost seemed to smile at him. But perhaps it was only a trick of the light.