A/N: Suddenly, a wild plot bunny appeared! This is a short prologue that hopefully builds the world a little. What's worth doing is worth overdoing, right? AU in modern times? No, that's not enough, I HAVE TO MAKE IT A FREAKING FANTASY WORLD. I'm a little iffy about writing something fantasy-ish, and MichiRuka in an AU?! Scary thought… but I was wondering… what if their love and destiny transcends time, space, and universe?
Read the ridiculously long A/N If you're interested in how I came up with this concept, otherwise, Haruka and Michiru are not mine, they are Naoko Takeuchi's. But the story, the world, everything is entirely MINE! Perhaps, maybe… HUAHAHAHAHA.
*Cue music that fits my rant on how I came up with the concept of this story* You can just skip this if you don't care.
So I began to think of AUs where MichiRuka would meet, but they all didn't kinda fit… Then I saw a Doujin drawing of Haruka in a medieval soldier's armour and was all fangirling over that sexy beast that is Haruka. Then I always thought that Haruka always had an armour on—whether its her over-the-top flirting, her coldness, meanness, etcetc- So I decided to give her humour as an armour to attract but keep people at a distance away from her, and Tada! As it is an AU, I took into account her probably different upbringing, so I'm tweaking her personality just a tad.
Then I needed to figure Michi out. I mean, okay that lady is one tough nut to crack. I rewatched almost every single scene that has Michi in it (in the anime), but she still didn't make sense to me, so I turned to Yamada Mario's doujins for help (My lord… that doujinka's work is spectacular.) And while I really enjoyed the doujins, Michi still didn't make sense to me. I just can't understand her… She's so enigmatic and unpredictable. Then I realised I didn't have to understand her, I just have to write what she will do or say! Besides, since this is an AU, I have a little more creative freedom here, eh? Anyway. Yamada-san's "The Little Mermaid" doujin gave me the inspiration to make Michi a pirate. I mean, the whole mermaid thing is overdone with Michi, so I wanted to do something special with Michi, but still make her really connected to the ocean. And who spends their entire lives on the ocean? Sailors, right? And how do I make Sailors sexy? I made them Pirates! ^^, And can you imagine lil' graceful Michi wearing pants and flailing her sword around like a pirate? All together, now… Ho….Mai….Gosh…. And can you imagine an Ice Queen, pirate Michiru? Hey, pick your jaw up from the floor. ;)
Anyway, onward with the first chappie!
Michiru's senses almost overwhelmed her, but her sense of smell was the one that almost tipped her control over. The cabin stank of damp decay and smoke. While she was entirely guilty of causing the second smell, the smell of festering waste threatened to gag her. A group of mice scurried across her feet, scuttling towards the exit. She stepped further into the cabin, examining the calloused, bleeding, oozing hands that stretched out of their cells, between metal bars for her mercy. She felt nothing but a cool disdain for these people. These were the people who had committed heinous crimes, then sentenced to exile at the Alludion border.
We're doing Alludion a favour by getting rid of these people… Guess even rats can't stand this smell.
"Miss Michiru!" Smythe, a blonde man in his mid twenties, called from the deepest depths of the cabin… that served as a jail, apparently.
"Fall back, Smythe! Captain's orders. We're done here, so we can just let this ship burn and sink. We've got what we came for. I don't think there's anything valuable to us here."
The wails of the damned grew louder, and the hands waved even more frantically, begging for release.
"Aye, Miss Michiru! There ain't nothing we can loot but a bunch of murderers and rapists here…"
Michiru gritted her teeth at the double negative. Really, this cabin could disintegrate any minute and Michiru was angry about grammar.
"Right. Get out Smythe."
"Thanks for getting me, Miss Michiru." Smythe threw Michiru a small smile, which Michiru did not bother returning. Smythe turned and ran out of the jail. Before Michiru could follow him, something as sure as her knowledge that she belonged to the ocean—instinct, perhaps- made her turn to her right… to stare into piercing, dark green eyes that drew her in. She stared, and was unable to look away, because some mysterious force bound them together, drew them closer—in that point in time, a broken shard of time, and Michiru could not help but feel as if this man in front of her completed her…like a mystical soulmate.
Even though the smoke was becoming thick enough to make Michiru cough and bring tears to her eyes, she could see the extremely thin figure alone in the most heavily padlocked cell.
This prisoner thrust himself as far as he could away from the door of his cell, as if he had some infectious disease he did not want to infect Michiru with.
Odd, the other cells are packed to the brim, yet this cell holds only one prisoner… I wonder what crime he committed?
Somehow, Michiru had a hard time believing that this person could ever harm anyone. Even though his limbs were long and even scarred, and he was relatively muscular, his expression was one of amusement. Yet, the more Michiru stared into his eyes, the more pain she could feel emanating from him, until Michiru was incapacitated from just… looking at him. He seemed… wronged, not guilty…
"You better run, lady. This ship is going down." The man spoke, a smirk on his face.
He speaks perfect English…
"You seem happy about that."
"Of course. I can finally be free…" The man tossed his shaggy blonde hair back, as if wanting to examine the heavens. "Free from this hellhole…"
Was he referring to this jail? Why would he prefer death to exile?
"Are you innocent?"
Dark green eyes refocused on her. "Of which sin, lady?" A cynical smile twisted his lips. "No matter… I'm guilty, guilty of everything... " There was a boom from above them, and a shower of dust fell upon Michiru. The man shook his head. "Run, lady. I don't want another death on my hands…"
Michiru frowned. Was he remorseful for his actions? She had never seen a prisoner admit all his crimes when he wanted to be safe.
But this man didn't appear to want to be saved…
Michiru was torn. There was something in her that told her to save this man, but another part of her, the more rational one, warned her against such an action.
This man is different. She could kill him easily on the Ocean's Cry if she wanted to. Besides, if he was truly remorseful, he should have the opportunity to pay for them…
"Miss Michiru? This ship is falling apart!" Smythe was back, despite having ran out of the cabin. "We have to go!" Another crackling boom punctuated his sentence.
Michiru acted fast. Drawing her blade, she brought it down on the padlocks and was surprised when they gave way so easily. The door to the prisoner's cell swung open.
"Get out, you'll serve as a slave on board our ship now." Michiru said.
"I did not get out of being a slave just to lose my freedom again. Go lady, you're wasting your time. I am not leaving this ship…" the prisoner remained where he was.
Michiru did not want to waste time with words. Michiru just wouldn't, couldn't let him die… She went into the cell, grabbed the prisoner's filthy, thin arm, and started dragging him out. She gasped when she felt her arm being twisted around her back, and yelped as a line of pain shot up her shoulder.
"Did you not hear me? I'm not leaving with you, woman."
"Slaves do not talk to their masters like that!" Smythe shouted, and promptly knocked the prisoner out with the pommel of his sword.
The grip on Michiru's twisted hand slackened, and the faint thump of the prisoner's body was lost amidst the sounds of the ship burning to ashes. The smoke was getting so thick in the cabin that Michiru had difficulty breathing. She dropped to her knees, knowing that she would be able to breathe better like that.
"I'll carry him. Run, Miss Michiru!" Smythe said from behind her.
Michiru ran, and Smythe followed behind. The cabin door collapsed behind them just as they left it, Smythe carrying the prisoner on his back.
The deck was littered with dead Alludion soldiers and officials. Some of them had caught on fire along with the ship, and Michiru twisted her head, determined not to watch them burn.
Michiru spotted their own ship, the Ocean's Cry, anchored and hovering close enough for them to jump on to it, but not close enough to catch the spreading flames of this damned ship. It was an Alludion ship, designed for a long distance voyage to the border, and the Ocean's Cry had raided it and killed the Alludion soldiers when they fought back. Then Michiru toppled a candle on deck and that's when the fire started.
Michiru made for the Ocean's Cry, leading Smythe and dodging burning obstacles. She reached the starboard's edge. Her crew were already gathered around the side of the Ocean's Cry, ready to catch her should she fall. Michiru stepped back, prompting Smythe to go first. The man obeyed without question, jumping into the chaotic tangle of arms that were spread out on the Ocean's Cry. Smythe made it safely onto the ship with the prisoner, and Michiru was slightly impressed with his strength. It was not an easy jump, especially when carrying someone on your back.
The floor collapsed beneath Michiru, and several men on the Ocean's cry shouted her name. Michiru paid no heed. With whatever hold she had on the falling floorboards, she kicked off from the burning ship to the Ocean's Cry. She still fell short, so she plunged instead into the sea. Her left forearm hit a floating board, and she ignored the knowledge that it would bruise. There was a loud cracking sound from above her, and Michiru immediately dived, angling herself towards the Ocean's Cry and swam towards it. She got out of the way just in the nick of time—the main mast splashed onto where she had been just a second before.
At least it's flames had been extinguished.
Michiru allowed herself to watch the mast bounce up to the surface of the ocean, propped by it's natural buoyancy. When her eyes began to itch and ache from all the salt in the sea, Michiru propelled herself to the surface, enjoying the feel of cool ocean water on her skin. Her face broke through the surface and she took it a fortifying gulp of air.
Her men cheered, but a single, anxious "Watch out!" from someone in the gang made Michiru spin around where she was. A lone Alludion soldier treaded the water right behind her, knife in hand, his face a mask of tight anger.
"You filthy pirates! How dare you attack a ship of Alludion?"
Michiru didn't answer. She took a deep breath and sunk beneath the ocean's relatively calm waves.
The soldier didn't follow her, which made Michiru suspect that he was not comfortable being submerged. Michiru dove further, so she was beneath him, out of his reach, and grabbed his ankle. He started kicking frantically, determined to get rid of her hold.
But Michiru was strong enough, and the brunt of soldier's kicks was absorbed by the ocean. His kicks slowly decreased in strength, by which time Michiru surfaced for air, grabbing his dagger on her way up. She stuck it into her boot, then proceeded to press the soldier's head underwater until he stopped his flailing, however weakly. She released him them, and he just floated serenely… if not for the fact that his eyes were still wide open with fear.
Michiru was the ocean, after all. The water was her element, and often times, she felt like the ocean answered to her.
Michiru swam towards the stern of the Ocean's Cry, climbing the ladder that was hidden, carved into the wood, but with a fishing net thrown over it to camouflage the ladder's presence. Water dripped from her form, and Michiru could not help but feel a sense of satisfaction. She had gotten out of another siege with only a small bruise on her left arm. She had bought another day of life for herself. She ought to feel a twinge of guilt for killing the man, but she couldn't.
After all, in such a world, you have to fight and kill, or be killed.
The men of the Ocean's Cry slept soundly that night.
HMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMMHMHMHM
Michiru awoke to angry cries the next morning. Groaning, she dressed quickly. They couldn't have a mutiny this early in the morning, could they?
Grabbing her sword, she rushed out of her cabin, only to bump into her father.
Captain Mapier was a large man. "Morning, sweetheart. Had a good night's rest, my second officer?"
Michiru bowed slightly. "Yes, Father…If it wasn't for this ruckus," She waved a hand in the general direction of the noise. "I'd still be sleeping… It was a long night…"
Her father nodded, patting her slightly on her aquamarine head. Despite his massive six foot frame, and curly ginger beard, he truly loved his daughter and his men. They were a family, and fiercely protective of each other. Michiru's only physical inheritance from him were his eyes—a bright, piercing sapphire. Their eyes may be dark in colour, but they were still expressive, and flashed according to their emotions.
A particularly loud yell of "YOU FILTHY WHORE!" grabbed the attention of both Michiru and her father, and wordlessly, they rushed towards the direction of the yells.
The pirates stood in a circle, shouting obscenities and hitting someone—or something—in the middle of it.
"All right, what's going on?" Captain Mapier asked in his boomingly loud voice. Michiru resisted her urge to cringe. As the second officer of this ship, she ought to show more grit.
"Captain! This lass be actin' as a man and all, she'll bring nothing but bad luck to this ship!" Tristan, a young teenager with black hair and dark grey eyes said indignantly.
Mapier and Michiru made their way into the midst of the men, who let them pass. Michiru was surprised to see the previous man—woman- she had saved the previous night lying in a pool of her own blood, curled up into a ball.
The woman looked up, locking eyes with woman had been roughed up pretty bad… her eye was swollen and there was a dark, purple bruise on her cheek.
Again, Michiru couldn't help but feel the same gravity pulling them together from last night, and Michiru felt herself frown.
"You feel it too, don't you?" The woman said to Michiru. Michiru's spine tingled as she realised that this connection they had was not imaginary on Michiru's side. It was no mere fantasy or hallucination. The bloodied woman chuckled, rolling onto her front, where she attempted to stand, only for the mob to kick and punch her to the ground again.
"This woman was Miss Michiru's slave, Captain!" Smythe said. "I was watching him, her as a prisoner before Miss Michiru could decide what to do with her, but this lass decided to try and jump ship this morning, so I fought with him, her… it." Smythe hissed. "That was when I discovered that he was a she, so I decided to teach her a lesson for dressing up as a man when she isn't. Then more people joined me."
The broken, bleeding figure on the ground laughed, chuckling even though nothing about the situation was funny. "Don't you get it? I won't be a slave. Not anymore. I would have gone down in that Alludion ship if you haven't idiotically saved me. But I have spent my entire life belonging to people, so I will be free, or I will die. You can beat me to death, but I will be free…" The blonde woman coughed, and a spray of blood splattered onto the deck. The mob started to rise in anger again, so Michiru decided to step in. She raised her hand, and the crew was silenced.
Did this woman value her freedom more than her life, now?
Michiru felt her frown deepen, and she bent down to the woman's level, squatting so that her pants stretched.
She wanted to die, didn't she? Michiru was trying her best to live, and this woman just wanted to take the easy way out?
"You think I saved you? Think again." Michiru grasped the blonde's hair, twisting the blonde's hair so she the blonde faced her. "I just sentenced you to more life instead of death, coward. You don't have the courage to go on with life, don't you? "
The woman didn't miss a beat. "I have the courage to face life, not slavery, lady." The woman jerked her head out of Michiru's grip, probably yanking a few hairs out in the process.
Michiru's eyebrows raised in scepticism, recalling their conversation their previous night. "In spite of all your sins?"
"Because of all my sins." The answer was quick, but sure.
Michiru was impressed. Not many people were able to keep up with her repartee.
Michiru smirked, still holding the blonde's gaze. "Fine. Then prove it."
The woman cocked a questioning eyebrow at her.
"Since I 'saved' you, you serve me for a length of time as a handmaiden."
The woman frowned, beginning to argue, but Michiru put a finger up, halting her.
"It will be paid service—in terms of food, lodging. You won't be a slave. It will be hard work, but you will receive remuneration for your services. Food, water, and lodging are expensive on a pirate ship, so you will receive no gold, for a handmaiden's work does not pay as well as a sailor's… deal?"
The woman smirked too. "What about clothes?"
"You will pirate them on your own."
The woman sniggered. "I like you."
Michiru's face was still somber. "Do we have a deal?"
The woman nodded, raised a hand for Michiru to shake it. "…Tenoh Haruka."
Michiru took it, noting how calloused her hands were... "Kaioh Michiru."
"What about safety from your… men?" Haruka gestured around them. "I don't want them ambushing me while I wash your clothes or something…"
Michiru stood up straight, "All right, Haruka here is my handmaiden, and she will be under my charge. Any attack on her, physical or verbal, I will consider an attack on me, the second captain of the Ocean's Cry."
The gathered men grumbled, some of them even growling in displeasure.
"Am I clear?" Michiru asked.
"Yes, Second captain!" The reply was unanimous. Whether they agreed or not—they obeyed.
"That's impressive." Haruka pushed herself up. "You command a lot of respect here, huh?" Haruka swayed on the spot.
Michiru frowned. Haruka was so badly hurt, it would be inhumane for Michiru to ask her to start working immediately. After all, her men were responsible for Haruka's injuries. "To the sick bay. Now."
"Yes, Ma'am." Haruka swayed on the spot. "Where's that?" she asked, her expression one of embarrassment.
Michiru swallowed a smile, and pointed to a small room next to the flight of stairs that led down into the private cabins of the men.
"Thanks." Haruka swayed as she made her way unsteadily to the sick bay.
"Dawkins, fetch some clothes that will fit her—men's clothes will do just fine." Michiru commanded, then followed Haruka into the sick bay. There was no doubt that Dawkins, the mute man in his mid thirties, whom Captain Mapier had saved a decade ago, would abide by her requests. He was absolutely loyal to Mapier and Michiru, and he, in turn, held their unconditional trust.
Haruka was lying on the floor when Michiru entered the sick bay.
Michiru sighed and helped her to the cot, located between cabinets of medicines and bandages. Haruka groaned. She was in worse condition than Michiru had expected.
"You sure act tough in front of those men…" Michiru commented. Away from the men she commanded, Michiru could feel herself relaxing—even while remaining wary of the stranger in the same room.
"Well, they would eat me if my upper lip wasn't stiff enough. They were already on the verge of killing me just now."
"Eat you?" Michiru asked, amused with Haruka's choice of words. She took a towel, threw it to Haruka. She took another towel and started to wipe the blood off Haruka's bleeding mouth.
Haruka nodded, gesticulated like a child, so Michiru had trouble cleaning Haruka up. "Like wolves." Her hands formed claws, and Haruka scratched at plain air.
This time, Michiru giggled as she held Haruka's face, making Michiru's job easier.
"You know, you're not that bad once you get away from your men, you know. Perhaps you have something to prove, too?"
"Respect is not given automatically, Haruka. It is earned. I don't expect you to know this if you've never commanded before."
"I know what you mean, though. There are those who demand respect, and there are those who are respected. Which one do you think you are, though, Miss Michiru?"
Michiru's eyebrows raised with surprise, changed the topic. "Why, you are wise for a slave."
"I am not your conventional slave, Miss Michiru. Even then, one merely has to observe in order to figure that fact of life out. There are people who demand my respect…" Haruka glanced at Michiru, held her gaze. "…and there are those whom I respect."
Michiru was amazed. This woman managed to bring the topic back to her, so subtly, without the use of words at all.
"I don't need respect, Haruka. I just need obedience."
"Ah, but if I'm not wrong, I think you already have respect from those men outside…"
"You've been on this ship for less than a day, and you're already judging things and going against the second officer?"
Haruka considered her as they tended to the cuts and bruises on Haruka's limbs. Michiru hadn't noticed before, but Haruka was… hot. Like… feverishly hot. "All right. Just stating my opinions. No need to get all defensive."
"I'm not defensive." Michiru spat, then chuckled at how ironic that statement sounded. "I'm just stating my opinion, that's all." Michiru echoed Haruka's words. "Besides… are you having a fever?"
Haruka looked at Michiru in surprise. "Am I? I don't know if I am."
Michiru placed a hand on Haruka's forehead, then nodded. "Fever." Michiru walked to the cabinets, pulled out some fever medicine. She uncorked the bottle and shoved it to Haruka, who recoiled from it's foul stench.
Michiru sighed. "You know, normally it's the handmaiden fixing her employer up…" Michiru refrained from using the word "master"… Haruka should still be sensitive to that word.
Haruka's gaze was suspicious as she contemplated the bottle before her. "Are you sure you're not trying to do me in? You could have just thrown me overboard to the sharks, you know…"
Michiru refrained from rolling her eyes. "Just drink it, Haruka…"
Haruka grimaced, then drank it in a few gulps… and gagged, still managing to keep the concoction down.
Michiru made a face that showed how impressed she was. "Wow. Not many grown men could stomach that, you know? Besides, it's herbal whiskey, so… I think…"
Haruka slumped onto the cot, already asleep.
Michiru shook her head, smiling at the sight of Haruka sleeping innocently on the cot. Then she caught herself… her last smile... had been several months ago, when Lupe fell of a chair in a drunken stupor. Her last laugh? Probably a year ago.
Wait. She giggled when Haruka acted as a wolf, didn't she? Since when did Kaioh Michiru giggle?
Michiru sighed. What was it about this Haruka that made Michiru decide against all rational thought to save her, and then to let her guard down so easily, so fast?
Then again, no one had been able to keep up with Michiru when she decided to engage in verbal combat.
There was a knock on the door, and Dawkins entered with clean clothes for Haruka, eyeing Haruka, who laid prone on the cot.
"Thank you, Dawkins. Watch the door for me, won't you?"
Dawkins nodded, closing the door behind him as he left.
Michiru stared at Haruka, nearly sighing. Haruka just had to sleep before changing…
Michiru shook her head, started stripping Haruka out of her stained clothes. Michiru blushed when she finished. Haruka was gloriously naked, and her body, though badly bruised, was beautiful. Michiru wondered how she could have ever mistaken her for a man…
Michiru shook her head to clear it. What was she thinking? Of course, Haruka had an admirable body, that's all! There was no attraction… Haruka was a girl, for heaven's sake!
It occurred to Michiru that she had seen naked men, some of them with very admirable bodies as well, but she had never been this… lingering want to keep gawking at it… and touch it… she was muscular, but her skin… could Haruka's skin be as soft as it looked?
Again, Michiru had to snap herself out of her own fantasies.
Haruka shivered a little, so Michiru took the opportunity to dress her—hurriedly.
What was wrong with her?
Michiru opened the door, addressed Dawkins, "Carry her to my room. Then get some beddings for me. She can have my bed for the time being—our men did this to her, so I guess I owe her this much…" Michiru said grudgingly. Besides, there was no other spare room for a woman to sleep on the Ocean's Cry without asking for trouble… "We will share the room from now on."
Dawkins nodded, moving silently into the room and picking Haruka up like she weighed nothing but a basket of oranges.
Michiru led the way to her room, opening the door for Dawkins. Dawkins stepped into room, placed Haruka on Michiru's bed, then started to step out. Michiru raised a hand, halting him in his steps. Dawkins cocked his head in question.
"I need you to help me watch out for her, okay, Dawkins? She's new to the ship, and the men obviously don't like her, so just… when you can, and she needs help, just point her in the right direction. If the men bully her, stand up for her… just little things like that." Michiru sighed. "This isn't an order, Dawkins, it's a request. Take her under your wing, won't you?"
Dawkins surveyed her curiously. Then he nodded slowly as though wanting to say something but, of course, being unable to.
"Thank you, Dawkins. Do you mind getting me some beddings?"
Dawkins nodded, smiling slightly at her, as if to say "You're welcome." Then he left.
Michiru had to stop herself from gawking at Haruka's sleeping form, so she stepped out of her cabin, deciding to oversee the stock keeping from last night's raids.
A/N: There you go, thanks for taking the time to read it. Please leave a review if you want me to continue the story, eh? And while you're at it, please tell me what you like (or dislike) about this story... more reviews there are, the more motivated I'd be to write! (or type, to be specific…)
P.S. I'll most likely come back and re-edit this story… the "repartee" isn't done to my liking… Ain't witty enough. *Growls at myself*