The empire stands at the brink of a civil war.

The Emperor is old, his chosen heir but three years of age. The Empress, an imperial princess by birth, has chosen a different heir. Each looks to the powerful dominions within the empire to support their respective claims. While the Emperor singles out Hyoutei for regency, the Empress seeks to sway Rikkai to her side.

And to this troubled sea returns Seishun, newly victorious from a campaign, its general a rising star in the empire – and a potential new player in the oncoming storm.

NaNoWriMo Project for 2012 and 2013. Total word count is ~101K at this time. Pseudo-historical AU set in vaguely Far Eastern (China/Korea/Japan) culture. M/R rating for adult content. Drama, romance and...drama. Also action because tennis is basically martial arts equivalent in TeniPuri anyway. And more politics than you can shake a stick at.

...Yeah, I'll come up with better notes later.

SEA OF HIDDEN DRAGON

와룡장해 :: 臥龍藏海

by Shiraume

[11/2012 & 11/2013]

BOOK I: TROUBLED SEA

Chapter 01

[4/18/2014 Version]

Golden dragons twisted over amber sky of silk. Long sleeve trailed over thick comforter as an aged hand swept over brows as white as the sheets underneath. The crease between the fine brows relaxed minutely, only to spasm violently in pain a heartbeat later.

"Promise me..."

The voice was so faint; it took straining of all senses to make out the words. The hand that rose from the bed, trailing a white sleeve embroidered with red-crowned cranes, was as pale as snow, nearly translucent even in the dim light of the room. Her thin hand was tenderly cradled with both hands as the Emperor, his aged face lined with grief, bent lower, intent on catching every whisper that escaped her bloodless lips. "Anything. Anything under the heaven."

"You'll...protect my son...won't you?" Breaths were drawn in painful gasps as the words were spoken. The woman's ashen brows drew closer, chest constricting with weak coughs. She was beautiful, as wasted and gaunt with sickness as she was. The Emperor tightened his hands around hers, willing the fit to subside. "Please," she struggled to continue, through the increasingly erratic breaths, forcing out each word. "Your Majesty, please. Protect...protect my son."

"He is my only son," the Emperor promised her. "I will protect him with my life."

The fever-bright eyes swept over the Emperor's face, which was careworn and lined with years, to the feathery-white strands interwoven with dark hair, turning his head pale grey. Despite the strength of his voice and his mien, the Emperor was old. Another face flashed in her thoughts, younger than the Emperor's, handsome and cold, too strong-featured to be beautiful, but with strength in her fierce gaze. She shuddered. "Please." Her voice grew fainter. Her eyes scrunched shut as another fresh spasm of pain wracked her body. "Please," she whispered without sound. Her chest heaved, but she could feel no air, no relief. Just chill in her limbs, burning in her throat, and fading grey before her eyes.

As the body on the bed shuddered and went still, a sob escaped the Emperor. A healer approached cautiously, but was waved back. After long moment of silence, the Emperor closed those unseeing eyes with his own hand. When the healer finally drew white sheet over the still face, the Emperor put his head in his hands and wept silently.

On the smooth golden coverlet, pairs of Mandarin ducks swam in ponds with lotus blossoms and nested under plum trees in full bloom.

"I hear Lady Yukimura has returned."

"So is it true? That she went on a retreat because of her health?"

"No, I heard..." Soft voice, lowered to a whisper. "..I heard she fled to the temple because she'd fallen in love with someone, and Lord Yukimura didn't approve."

"But Lord Yukimura would never have allowed her to go to the temple if that was the case."

"Which explains why she's back so soon, doesn't it? It would have taken someone really brave, courting Lady Yukimura. Everyone knows the Empress herself—"

"Quiet! It's Lady Yukimura!"

A hush fell. The women bowed respectfully as Lady Yukimura approached, which she returned gracefully. Without addressing anyone, Lady Yukimura continued toward to the innermost part of the palace, where the Empress resided. Scarcely before she was out of earshot, the whispers began afresh.

"—Could mean only one thing, when the Lady of Green Pavilion passed away last week—"

"Poor little prince. Losing his mother robs him of his last protector. No one else would dare, not when the Empress opposes him."

"And Lord Yukimura is just the ally Empress needs. She will want to cement an alliance through marriage, don't you think?"

"But the Empress has no daughters."

"She has, however, two nephews left. You know, from her older sister, Princess Yoshiko."

"Then—"

"Most likely the Empress seeks marriage between one of her nephews and the Lady Yukimura – Lord Yukimura's only sister."

"But would Lord Yukimura agree? Even though they're the children of Princess Yoshiko, their father's status..."

"Especially after the scandal caused by Lady Fuji."

There were stifled giggles at the mention of the Lady Fuji. Fuji Yumiko. Princess Yoshiko's first-born. A peerless beauty widely nicknamed the Peony of the Empire, Lady Fuji had once been the pride and joy of the childless Empress. That was, until the young lady, then scarcely nineteen, eloped with a young poet to avoid an arranged marriage. Her flight was still a legend, passed on through quiet whispers along the corridors of the Inner Court. Although the younger nobles often looked at her story as that of an inspired romance, it was a source of great embarrassment to both the Empress and the Fuji family.

Heedless of the whispers and giggles behind her, Lady Yukimura passed through the gardens of the Inner Court, her heather-grey eyes firmly fixed forward. She noticed nothing of the beauty around her, the garden in full throes of the early summer. Tree peonies were in bloom, each more radiant than the last, but her eyes were blind to their loveliness. The birds sang in the trees and insects called, yet her ears were closed to their delight.

Her eyes never once flickered as she stopped outside the Empress's pavilion and waited to be announced. The doors opened and the attendants bowed as she entered. Then the doors closed behind her, swallowing her figure whole.

On the other side of the imperial palace, meticulously-attended garden sprawled between the Outer and Inner Court. Just outside the walls enclosing the garden, in a secluded corner of the Outer Court, a young man stood, his bow drawn. His eyes, which never moved from the target, were of startling blue color.

Fuji let another arrow fly, watching expressionlessly as it found its mark with unerring accuracy, splitting its predecessor in half. With practiced motion, he notched another arrow and lifted his bow, drawing back the bowstring in one smooth movement. On the target were three split arrows and one whole one, and if he had anything to say about it, there would be four split arrows in a moment.

A bird called sharply, and the sound of wings, close enough to flutter feathers about him, startled Fuji. "Ah—" Fuji watched as his arrow – prematurely released – turned wide, flying in a wide parabola over the wall. Displeased frown tightened his lips, but next moment he shrugged. No one was in the garden at this hour, and he had free access throughout most of the imperial palace, even in the Inner Court. He could easily walk over and look for his arrow at leisure. With his bow in hand, Fuji walked through the open gateway to the garden, where the tree peonies were in full bloom.

A hand reached out to touch a perfect peony blossom, strangely sensuous even in its pure white beauty. The next instant, an arrow whistled just under his hand, piercing the peony blossom in the center. He shook the arrow clear of the shattered petals and examined it. The arrow bore an unfamiliar personal design on its shaft, its tail adorned with blue feather of a kingfisher. He did not recognize it, but there weren't many people who could practice archery in the palace grounds. Assuming, of course, the owner wanted it back.

Just then, a voice called, breaking him out of his reverie. He headed to the western gate, toward the caller. And as he moved away, something sparkled as it dropped soundlessly to the ground.

When Fuji came through the northern gate, the garden was empty. Fuji cast his glance all around, seeking his lost arrow. As he walked down the path, a flash of color caught his eyes. Amidst the ruin of white petals scattered on the ground lay a small jade carving in the shape of a dragon. Fuji bent down to retrieve the pendant, noting its beautiful blue-green shade and blue silk cord with ornate knot. The spotlessly even color and flawless quality of the stone told him the jade was of the highest grade, and the owner must want it back. Resolved to ask around later, Fuji tucked it into his robe, and resumed his search for the lost arrow.

A strong wind swept across the garden, scattering the peony petals and billowing them upward, sweeping the entire garden in white.

"You lost an arrow? You? Heir to one of the Empire's Shitennou, the great-grandson of the Divine Archer himself? "

Fuji gave him a reproachful look. "I was distracted."

"Obviously." Atobe leaned on one hand, studying him. "So? You can't possibly be asking me to come and help you look for it."

"I've already looked through the whole garden. I think someone took it. That's why I came to see you."

Atobe blinked, then straightened, his movement meticulous and slow. "Let me get this straight," he said each word measured and even. "You want me to find out who took your arrow?"

Fuji shrugged, his usual smile an inscrutable mask on his face.

"Me, Atobe Keigo, head of the Atobe clan and the acting Lord of Hyoutei, Chief Minister of Ceremonies, search for the culprit behind a missing arrow? Besides which – it's an arrow, for crying out loud. You have plenty left and can always have more of them made."

"Well," Fuji said with admirable gravity. "I thought you of all people would be able to find the culprit."

"And why would that be?"

Fuji held out his hand, something blue-green and shiny on his palm. "He left behind a clue."

Atobe took the pendant from Fuji's hand and examined it. It was an intricately-carved design of a dragon, with blue-green jade body and flashing red rubies for eyes. A rare color, more deep blue than the usual green, but stone was of the top quality without any flaws or unevenness in shade. The silk cord and tassel were worn with repeated use, but it was clear the owner had taken excellent care of it. Near the tip of the dragon's tail was a tiny design of a six-pointed flower? snowflake? with a pair of characters at the center, so small that naked eyes could make no sense of them. Atobe frowned, turning the pendant in his hand. The seal design looked familiar. In fact, the whole pendant looked strangely familiar, somehow.

"I've seen it before," Atobe said, turning the pendant over in his hand again. "The seal design. But I can't quite place it. Yet."

"That's why I came to you. If anyone, you would recognize it."

Atobe made a dismissive sound, already busy eliminating possible choices in his head. "I'll look into it."

"Thanks, Keigo."

Atobe's head snapped up, only to come face to face with Fuji's sweet, sweet smile. His brow twitched in annoyance. Of course; Atobe was a self-proclaimed expert in heraldry, thoroughly acquainted with the history of every notable family in the empire. And he would never be able to leave this one alone, because to admit he didn't know who owned this pendant would be admitting defeat. And Atobe Keigo never accepted defeat.

"In my spare time," Atobe drawled. "Unlike you, affairs of the state occupy my waking hours."

"Mm." Fuji's attention was already wandering, eyes gliding over the papers on Atobe's desk with disinterest. "Does this mean you won't be coming around for dinner this week?"

Atobe was tempted to refuse outright, but hesitated. He loved visiting Fuji's house. Fuji's great-grandfather's mansion, to be more exact. And Fuji knew it.

"If you insist, I might drop by."

Fuji smiled, knowing and mischievous. "Of course." He rose to go, fingers giving the dragon pendant a last caress, which made Atobe twitch in annoyance. An unnecessary reminder – his mind would be preoccupied with it all afternoon. He had always been pathologically unable to leave a puzzle alone.

Just at the door of the office, Fuji paused. "By the way, you have your dates backward. The harvest ceremony should take place two nights before the circle dance, which should come last, on the night of the full moon. You might want to double-check the calendar."

Reflexively Atobe looked down at his papers, and realized Fuji was right. Before he could retort he'd have figured that out on his own, Fuji had already disappeared.

Cursing all the smart-mouthed imperial brats in general, Atobe reached for the almanac.

Upon her return, Lady Yukimura was informed that her brother was waiting in her quarters. With a suppressed sigh, she headed back to the west wing of the main building, which was set aside for her use. Her attendants were waiting anxiously outside her own room.

"Lord Yukimura has been waiting for nearly two hours," murmured her chief handmaiden. "He requests that you join him as soon as you return."

"As if I can do otherwise, when he waits for me in my own room?" She gave the handmaiden a sharp look. "Next time, do not allow him or anyone else in my room when I am not present."

"But—"

"Do you serve me? Or do you serve my brother?" Lady Yukimura cut her off, relentless. "I have given you my orders. I expect you to obey. How is not my concern."

After a moment under Lady Yukimura's icy gaze, the chief handmaiden quailed, bowing her head. "I will do so in the future, my lady."

A short nod, and Lady Yukimura faced the doors, which other attendants hastily opened for her. Without looking back she stepped inside her richly decorated room. Her chief handmaiden followed her after taking a tray from one of the maids, which she then set down on the table. She bowed, and retreated to stand by the door with her head respectfully lowered.

Lady Yukimura strode in without sparing single glance towards the uninvited guest who sat at her table. She briskly made her way to her mirror instead, sitting down at her dressing table. Methodically, she took off her necklace of jade beads and the delicately layered leaves of gold that hung from her ears. Next, she plucked the bracelets and rings from her hands, and then the jeweled ornaments from her hair, pins and sticks and combs with delicate flowers and bird motifs, each made of gold and studded with precious gemstones. When the last of the ornaments was gone from her hair, her brother, who had been watching her patiently, finally spoke.

"What did the Empress say?"

Her lips tightened to a thin line, and Lady Yukimura took her time tucking away her jewelry and ornaments in lacquered wooden boxes. Each box had its glossy surface inlaid with mother-of-pearl in delicate, iridescent silver lines. Just when her brother was about to speak again, she closed the lid of her jewelry box with a sharp tap of wood on wood. "Exactly what you expected her to say, I presume."

"You are angry with me." It was not a question.

"I don't like people entering my room without my permission," she said blandly, deliberately missing his point.

Her brother's lips quirked wryly. "That, too. But you do realize why I did it, don't you?"

Lady Yukimura's thin fingers dug into the wooden surface. "You made it clear that you found him unworthy of our name." She raised her eyes to glare at the image of her brother in the mirror. "Does it matter now? I've returned, just as you wished. And I'll marry whoever the Empress orders me to marry, just as you wish."

Her brother's reply was preceded by a gentle sigh. "He made it clear that he was unworthy of your love."

Lady Yukimura whipped around to face her brother, fury kindling a flash of lightning in her eyes. "You would have killed him," she retorted, her anger like a spear of ice in her words.

"If he loved you, he should have risked it," he said, and his voice was colder now, flint and steel underneath the silk. Her eyes snapped to his, surprise turning to a reluctant understanding. Her brother's eyes softened in response, becoming kinder. "I would have, for you."

And would you have spared him if he risked his life to fight you for me? She swallowed the question, the anguish like sharp sliver of glass lodged in her throat. It wasn't fair, to expect someone to risk his life for what he wanted. But her brother also spoke the truth: he would have done it.

"You cannot expect everyone in the world to be Yukimura Seiichi," she said at last, all of her earlier anger drained from her voice.

Her brother smiled without mirth. "No. But I expect everyone in the world to fight for what they want. That they will not – it isn't my concern."

She closed her eyes, drawing a long, slow breath, and released it. Letting go wasn't easy – it was never in her nature, or her brother's, for that matter – but necessary. At any rate, it was too late to turn back now. "The Empress said she would like to speak with you in person," she started without preamble. "And that a closer tie between our clan and the imperial family could prove mutually beneficial."

"In those words?"

She gave him a look. "Of course not. She's of imperial blood through and through. You know she can talk around in circles with the best of them at court."

"Has she hinted who she has in mind as your match?"

"There aren't that many options," she pointed out glibly. "But not Prince Masara, in any case."

Her brother raised an eyebrow.

"Clearly you have yet to give her sufficient encouragement." Her voice was a shade colder. She knew her brother for all his talk had never committed himself or his people to the Empress's cause. In turn, Empress would never offer such high stakes, not without extracting more definitive promise of a return. "Although if she intends to raise the young prince to the throne, someone of imperial blood would be preferable."

A derisive snort answered her. "Too bad Atobe doesn't have a daughter or sister handy, then."

"I'm sure the feeling is mutual," she replied without missing a beat.

"The Emperor has clearly marked Atobe as the regent for his heir. Or one so young and inexperienced would never have been appointed as the Chief Minister of Ceremonies."

"He performs his duties without fault, I hear."

"His current duties, perhaps. But he's not fit to lead the empire. If the Emperor thinks he can curtail his wife's ambition for regency using Atobe, he's become senile."

Despite herself, Lady Yukimura couldn't hold back a small smile. The Atobe heir had risen to the position of clan head at an unprecedented age after his father made an abrupt departure from public life to enter the temple. It wasn't long before Atobe also took over as the acting lord for his domain. And less than a year after he became the acting Lord of Hyoutei, the Emperor appointed him to the position of Chief Minister of Ceremonies in a bold move that shocked the whole court. However, as a side effect of his double duties as well as his imperial lineage, Atobe Keigo never served his time in the military, which was required for every noble-born young man in the empire. Atobe's deficiency in that area had long since been the source of disdain from her openly militant-minded brother.

"I'm sure you and the Empress will have a lot to talk about, then." Her voice warmed, though it was a far cry from the affection they used to share not a year ago.

"When does she want to see me?"

"This week, if you can. She said at your earliest convenience, and I rather think she meant it."

"She already has a bridegroom in mind, then."

Lady Yukimura shrugged. "I assume so, since she summoned me as soon as I returned."

"I'll go pay my respects to the Empress in three days. I've too much to do in the meantime."

"And it wouldn't do to jump at her every whim?" She couldn't help a trickle of acid in her tone.

Her brother was unfazed. "Of course. I will answer on my own terms, never another's. You know that."

"A luxury not many can afford." Lady Yukimura rose from her seat, suddenly feeling fatigued. "I would like to retire," she said.

"Of course." Her brother rose to his feet fluidly, and came to kiss her cheek as was his wont. She turned her head, however, and did not look at him. Just because she accepted his argument, it didn't mean she'd forgiven him. And deep-seated anger was something her brother understood very well. As she expected, there was no hint of reproach in her brother's calm expression. "I'll leave you to your rest," he said softly, then stepped away. She bowed her head with the exact amount of respect that decorum demanded – and not one whit more.

She did not watch her brother leave.

"How did the audience go?"

Tezuka turned his head minutely, in wordless acknowledgment of his friend's presence. "Fine. We've been commended for our success."

"And the Emperor?" Green eyes turned troubled. "I'd heard unsettling rumors regarding his health. It's been said ever since the Lady of the Green Pavilion's untimely passing, His Majesty has been inconsolable."

"His grief is deep," he allowed, "but the Emperor is still very much himself."

Oishi nodded, and the two of them walked side by side in silence for a while. "No other orders regarding the current campaign?"

"I am to stay in the capital. Besides that, none."

"Well, we've all but wrapped up. The actual terms of the peace treaty are the diplomats' worry, not ours. Speaking of which, do we know who's going to be sent this time?"

"The Emperor did not say."

The curt replies would have bothered someone less intimately acquainted with Tezuka. For his part, Oishi merely smiled. "I guess it doesn't affect our work. Don't worry about the front. You know we can handle it. You've done the hard part already."

"We did it together."

Oishi's eyes softened with warmth. "Yes." There was a lot of pride and affection behind the answer. "I'll be busy running errands in the city tomorrow, but I will be returning to the camp the day after. Do you have any message for the rest of the team?"

"Keep up the good work," Tezuka said promptly. "And don't get careless."

Oishi chuckled. "Of course. By the way, what's that?"

Tezuka looked down at his sword, where he'd tied the errant arrow to its sheath. "I found it in the garden."

"You found it?" Incredulity crept into Oishi's voice. "This is the imperial palace. Who practices archery here besides the Emperor? And he hasn't drawn a bow in years. Both of the princes are too young to have personalized arrows, aren't they?" Oishi's sharp eyes had noted the personalized design of the arrow – a rare prize awarded for particularly exceptional performances in the imperial archery contest. Even within the vast empire, those granted the honor were few in number.

Tezuka shrugged. "I'll find out later."

"Oh, speaking of later. I ran into Lord Tachibana. He requests that you visit him. To celebrate your victory, he said." A shrewd gleam entered the wide green eyes. "I think he was hoping you'd come stay with him at his house for a few days while you're in the capital. You know – when you can spare time away from the Seishun mansion?"

"Ah." Lord Tachibana of Fudomine, like most of the dominion lords, had a private house within the capital city in addition to the mansion provided for the use of each dominion's representatives. Although the current Lord of Seishun, Yamato Yuudai, likewise possessed his own house in the capital, he had a penchant of spending most of his time at the Seishun mansion whenever Tezuka was around. And Yamato's face was one Tezuka could live without having to see every day. Particularly given what Yamato had been pestering him about lately. Tezuka rather suspected he would end up taking Tachibana up on the offer. "Thank you, Oishi."

"You're welcome."