A/N: Hey guys, here's the second chapter! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own any Kingdom Hearts or Final Fantasy characters!
Chapter Two :: Insomnia
The chains attached to the prisoners wrists and legs clinked with every step he took down the long, darkened hallway. The guards standing on either side of him were at least three heads taller and were much larger in stature, their muscular arms virtually bulging through the tight clothing they wore. The man turned his head away, glancing around the hallway with feigned interest, noting the drab décor hanging along the stone-coloured walls. He didn't really care much for Xehanort's castle; if anything, he wanted to set fire to its ramparts and watch it burn to a cinder, preferably with the wretched man inside.
He dipped his head and gritted his teeth angrily at the mere thought of the so called 'king'. This man was the reason why he and his group fought so hard to regain peace amongst the lands. He was the only reason people were suffering, both here and in his homeland. The man did not deserve to be king. He did not deserve to rule over these lands. If it were up to him, Xehanort would be dead before the sun set that very evening. But he was in no position to carry out such things.
No, instead he was in chains, walking down a never-ending corridor without another single soul in sight. He knew where he was going — the infamous prison of Castle Oblivion, where nothing but darkness and death prevailed — he'd heard enough stories about it to know that his chances of survival were exceedingly slim.
A small speck of fear suddenly ignited in the pit of his stomach at the thought. What if these walls would be the last thing he ever saw? What if he never got to see the light of day again? What would his brother do without him...?
Once again, he cursed his own reckless stupidity. The orders had been ridiculously simple — kidnap the princess and bring her back to camp. It was a simple and easy task, one which even a newbie could have taken on. Instead of victory, the plan ended sourly; during his attempt to escape, he was eventually caught by a group of soldiers on patrol with the girl. He had followed the young princess and her convoy around the lands for weeks, preparing for his mission in every way possible only to miserably fail.
He should have been able to take the girl without any problem whatsoever, but when she had bitten his hand with her sharp incisors and started screaming out for her guards, he knew that he stood no chance. He'd tried to escape the burly men chasing after him, but was soon caught in the outskirts of the forest and dragged back to the castle in heavy chains. And that wasn't the worst part. To make matters worse, he was being publicly condemned to death by beheading for his 'crimes'. He knew this was just a ploy; Xehanort wanted to set an example to any of the other rebels hiding in the woodwork who could potentially rise up against him. The chained man could only hope that this intimidation technique didn't work. He didn't want his group to stop fighting just because he had died for their cause...
The man curled his hands into tight, angered fists. It was unthinkable! He was to die a meaningless death at the hands of a violent, cruel king who ruled his so-called subjects through fear. From what he and his organization had observed, there were public executions almost every week; from young children who had stolen a load of bread from the local baker to elderly people who told haunting stories which eventually inadvertently encouraged an uprising against the king. Nobody was safe from his brutality; even the smallest and most pitiful of crimes were punishable by death. It was a surprise then, he thought, that the man even had any subjects left to rule.
He bristled angrily, wishing more than anything that he could bring his sword down on Xehanort's skull and cleave the disgusting excuse of a human being in half. Only then would there be peace within the Enlightened Realm once again. And peace in his homeland, too.
The two men on either side of him suddenly tugged him to the right with enough force to almost dislodge his shoulders from their sockets. He looked up sharply, snapping out of his own thoughts when the three of them rounded a corner and entered yet another, even narrower hallway with no apparent end. It was somewhat dark and gloomy, with only one window stamped into the wall to allow the dying sunlight to filter through the glass, casting an ominous shadow across the carpeted floor.
He held back a flinch. It was becoming clear to him now, with every step they took down the long hallway, he was nearing ever closer to his death and nobody would know that he was here, not even his own leader. He needed to escape — nobody would be coming to rescue him, he was on his own. That's what he'd been told. He didn't even have a way of summoning for help.
Out of curiosity, the brunette tugged his wrists outwards in an attempt to test the chains and their strength, pausing only when the two men escorting him down to the cells shot him suspicious glares. Unfortunately for him, Xehanort knew how to make damn good cuffs, designed specifically for criminals such as him. He saw no way of escaping his bonds unless the guards cowered on the floor beneath him and happily relinquished to him the key to his freedom. He held back a derisive snort. That was highly unlikely to happen. He was going to die completely alone in front of hundreds of people who didn't even know his name. He didn't know what was worse — the fact he would never get to see Xehanort's downfall or that he was going to die a pitiful death at the hands of a cowardly man.
If only the so-called 'king' knew how much his people — and the outlaws who fought against him — hated him and everything he stood for. Times were so much better when King Ansem and Queen Lillian used to rule; everything and everyone prospered, living long and healthy lives, but of course they died in that tragic fire along with their young five year old daughter and the majority of their servants.
It was a well-known tale among those within the Enlightened and Dark Realms, but there were so many versions that it was hard to determine which story was the truth and which were exaggerated old folk tales, told by the elderly to impress the kids. Some claimed that the young princess had survived, while others said that the whole family had fled to the Unknown Land hours before the disaster. He doubted both of these stories — nobody could have escaped that. No one. Not even a princess. Personally, he thought that their deaths had been one conspiracy theory to put Xehanort into power — it was something he could quite easily imagine the man doing — and his group agreed.
Suddenly, the two guards on either side of him grabbed his arms and yanked him to a stop. He looked up, curious as to what had caused such a commotion, only to find that they had reached what appeared to be a menacing wooden door. The small speck of fear in his stomach flared up, filling his entire body with terror. This was it. This would be his end and there was nothing he could do to stop it from happening.
The intimidating man with dark dreadlocks and sideburns reached out and opened the door, revealing a long flight of stairs spiralling down into a seemingly never ending abyss. He leaned forwards, staring into the dark hole until his mind began to spin and he was forced to look away.
He scowled. Trust Xehanort to keep his prisoners deep underground and away from the sunlight. It was cruelty in its highest form. At least he wouldn't be staying for too long... He would be dead by tomorrow evening.
The two men flanking him silently shoved him towards the stairs, their strong hands still wrapped around his upper arms. There was only one thought in his mind — he couldn't die like this. In a surge of panic, he tried to withstand their pushes by dragging his feet and jostling his arms as he threw his head back in search of anyone — anyone — who could help him. The guards wrestled him forwards another few feet, their faces contorted with rage as their prisoner attempted to resist arrest.
Right before he was pushed into the bottomless chasm which would most certainly lead to his demise, he locked gazes with a young maid with cropped blue hair who was watching him from across the hallway, an expression torn between horror and curiosity spreading across her immaculate face. She held a basket tightly against her shapely chest, her knuckles white as she continued to stare at him, her ocean blue eyes wide and fearful. Her lips parted and she took a step towards him, as if wanting to help.
He pleaded with her silently, hoping his eyes conveyed his desperation. She had to do something — call for help, distract the guards...anything. He needed to escape, he needed to leave now!
"Stop squirming and move it, prisoner, or we'll be forced to have you executed here and now." The burly man with short red hair slicked back into odd, messy spikes barked, elbowing him roughly in the ribs.
He let out a groan and immediately doubled over, winded by the sudden assault. He straightened jerkily, glancing back at the maid still hovering a little way off. The young woman flinched, her eyes darting around the empty corridor before she took off in the opposite direction, her short blue hair flying behind her, leaving him to his certain death. He opened his mouth, meaning to call out to her before she disappeared from sight, but the guard on his other side grabbed him by the hair and shoved his head down with a menacing growl.
She was gone.
He craned his neck back after her and bared his teeth as he struggled against his captors, but they were a lot stronger than he was and soon wrestled him down the stairs, their fingers digging into his tanned skin. He cried out, thrashing and pulling at his bonds, dragging his feet across the stone flooring in an attempt to slow their descent, but it was no use. Their strength was ten times his own and he stood no chance against them alone.
One of the guards reached back and promptly slammed the door shut behind them, blotting out the sunlight and sending them into complete darkness.
And it was then that Terra knew he was never going to see the light of day again.
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Aqua couldn't get to sleep.
She tossed and turned in her small single bed, the straw inside the thin mattress prodding into her spine and lower back uncomfortably with each move she made. She groaned, reaching out for the thin blanket which had fallen around her waist as she had wriggled about while grappling with her suddenly developed case of insomnia. She tugged the scratchy woollen material up to her chin, keeping her eyes squeezed shut, but the memory still haunted her mind, even behind her eyelids.
She could still recall in vivid detail the sharp, crisp blue of his eyes, his tousled chestnut hair and the slight curve of his lips. His eyes had pleaded with her, begged her to help him, but she had turned on her heel and ran. What could she have done anyway? Saved him? Helped him escape? The two of them would have been shot down by the guards before they even reached the main gate.
But what did it matter to him anyway? He was dead either way; executed tomorrow at noon, or so she'd heard...
Aqua rolled over onto her stomach once she realised that falling asleep was a futile hope. She propped herself up on her elbows, running her hands through her sweaty cropped hair, an involuntary sigh slipping past her lips. She closed her eyes, breathing in slowly in an attempt to tame the turmoil of emotions crashing around inside of her, but his desperate, pleading face still swam tauntingly behind her eyelids.
Her deep blue eyes snapped open, a frown creasing her brow. She needed to stop letting it eat away at her like this; it was not healthy. She didn't want to make herself ill. Who else would look out for Ven in her stead? The other servants? They were too busy looking after themselves, avoiding Xehanort's wrath. Miss Naminé, then? She was much too self-absorbed to really care and had enough on her plate to deal with as it was. She mentally berated herself for thinking such things. After witnessing what she had, she no longer considered Naminé to be the aloof, heartless girl Aqua always used to believe she was. No, she hid a much darker, deeply sinister secret.
Aqua shivered at the very thought, remembering how Naminé's pale, beautiful wrists had been stained red with nasty raised burns. She had been warned that Naminé had some...rather gruesome scars on her body, but she'd never seen them before, up until now. Nothing in the world could have prepared her for the awful sight which awaited her when she went in search of the young girl. Now that she had seen what hid beneath the sleeves, Aqua understood why the girl refused to allow the woman to bathe her and why she insisted on wearing long sleeves dresses even in the sweltering heat of summer; she was hiding from the one thing she could never hope to escape. The poor girl. She had seen the look in her eyes after her deadly secret had been revealed — her once calculating, intelligent gaze was dull and lifeless, her eyes nothing more than glassy orbs in the hollows of her skull. It were as if her soul had been sucked out, leaving her with nothing but an empty body and mind.
It pained her to see Naminé in that way. She was normally such a passionate, headstrong girl who worked hard to get what she wanted and to see her reduced to nothing but an emotionless shell had been a big shock for her. She knew, without a doubt, that it was Xehanort's fault she had been put in such a traumatising situation. The man had been cruelly terrorising the girl since she had first arrived in the castle, searching to find what made her tick, as if Naminé was his own personal little lab experiment. That alone made her loathe the man even more. How could somebody who was supposed to be a father figure for a young girl treat someone so disgracefully?
She felt trapped. All around her was pain and death, but there was nothing she could do to stop it. Naminé, that strange man, Ven...even the entire Kingdom. People were suffering and nobody seemed to care, not even their own king.
Aqua placed her face into her upturned palms and shut her eyes, massaging the bridge of her nose with the tips of her long, delicate fingers. Her mind had come to the conclusion that she would have to do something to help somehow; she couldn't sit back and let this all happen without even trying, but several questions plagued her mind, stopping her from following through with her good intentions: how? What could she do? She couldn't fight — heck, she'd never even wielded a blade before — she'd only used her magic to heal little cuts and bruises and she simply could not slip around the castle without being noticed...
...But Miss Naminé could. She'd been slinking around the castle walls without anybody really even noticing her ever since she was a young girl. She was the perfect candidate!
It was then that Aqua began to wonder if she should enlist the girl's help with whatever she planned to do — she knew the blonde hated Xehanort just as much as she did and wasn't likely to rat her out to him, not to mention she was a princess and could get away with pretty much anything if she wanted to. But what if Naminé thought it beneath her? What if she didn't see the benefit in helping a condemned convict escape? No... She had a sneaking suspicion that the girl wouldn't care in the slightest, especially as she wouldn't be getting anything out of it, other than the satisfaction of depriving Xehanort of another public execution.
All of a sudden there was a loud and resounding knock at her bedroom door.
Aqua shot into a sitting position and clutched the blanket to her chest, staring across at the door with wide, frightened eyes. Had somebody found out about what she planned to do? Were they coming to arrest her too? They couldn't — she had to look after Ven, she was all he had left.
Slowly, the latch lifted and the door swung open, creaking eerily in the darkness.
The blue haired woman curled her knees to her chest, wishing she had put a deadbolt on the door when she'd had the chance. She knew of the despicable guards who roamed the halls at night, searching for young maidens to have their way with. How was she supposed to defend herself? The heaviest object she had in her room was a chair, but even that looked about ready to break. She couldn't use her magic — she didn't want her magic to be used to bring harm to another person — after all, she would most likely be beheaded on the spot. What else was there? She could scream, but she doubts anybody would be courteous enough to come to her rescue...
Much to her surprise, Ven's head suddenly popped around the doorframe, his expression caught between exhaustion and guilt. Relief flooded through her and she let her legs slide away from her chest. She had never been so happy to see her best friend before in her life.
When the young blond caught sight of her pressed up against the wall, her eyes watching him the entire time he smiled wearily and stepped further into the room, rubbing at his azure eyes with the backs of his hands. "I'm sorry if I woke you, Aqua. I wanted to drop by before I headed to bed."
Her eyebrows furrowed with concern as the boy staggered closer, his face hidden by the shadows. She reached a hand out to steady him and guided him to the edge of the bed, where he immediately flopped down, his breath whooshing past his lips. She crossed her arms and stared down at him sternly. "No wonder you looked so tired when I saw you in the kitchen — you should get to bed earlier, Ven, you don't want to get sick. I can't keep healing you all the time. People will get suspicious."
"Even if I wanted to, I couldn't." Ven murmured, throwing a hand across his face, his voice sullen. Aqua immediately regretted her words. Why had she scolded him when it was so obvious that he was on the verge of falling unconscious from exhaustion? "Miss Xion needed me to stay with her for a while. She's been real shaken up since that outlaw tried to have her killed this afternoon. They caught him, but she was still freaking out when I came in to see her." He peeked up at her through his fingers when she breathed in sharply. "Did you hear about that, too?"
Aqua shook her head distractedly, her thoughts elsewhere. What were the odds that Xion was attacked and a mysterious man was dragged down to the prison in chains that very same afternoon? Was he a murderer? Did he hurt innocent people? Was he a part of some kind of...cult? And she had been sympathising with him…
The blond sprawled on the bed beside her suddenly sat up, his hand resting on her arm. "Aqua?" He asked, his voice tinged with something akin to excitement. "Do you know something I don't? Do you know who it was that attacked Miss Xion? She wouldn't tell me when I asked; just that he'd been captured."
Again, she shook her head, her nose crinkling as she turned her gaze to him. "No..." She blinked, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Well, maybe... I don't really know. It could have been..." She trailed off and sighed, smiling apologetically down at him. "It could be a coincidence."
"There are no such things as coincidences." Ven stated sagely, his voice taking on an unusually sombre tone. "Everything happens for a reason. Whatever you're thinking is most likely right." She swivelled around to stare at him, her mouth slightly agape. His bright eyes blinked owlishly back at her, his lips curving into a cheesy grin. That was the Ven she knew well.
She tried to shake the ominous feeling which was rattling through her body, but she was too unsettled by it all. The fact of the matter was that she could scarcely believe that something so wise had emerged from her best friend's mouth. She'd always known that he was smart, but this was something new. It almost sounded like he was speaking from experience and that unnerved her. She knew his past was fairly dark, but she never expected to receive a reaction like that. Perhaps he wasn't the innocent little boy she'd always been convinced that he was.
"Aw, c'mon. I didn't say anything that mind-blowing, Aqua." The boy laughed as he started bouncing up and down on his knees, causing the straw within the mattress to rustle and crackle beneath him. He grabbed one of her hands and attempted to pull her up with him. "Tell me what you're thinking about! I wanna know!"
He never ceased to amaze her. Not a few moments ago he had been sprawled across her bed virtually on the verge of passing out and now he was practically bouncing off the walls. Aqua laughed in response, reaching up to ruffle his soft, unruly spikes with her free hand. "Alright, I'll tell you. But settle down first." She glanced around nervously, glad for once that the walls of the castles were so thick. "I wouldn't want you to wake anybody."
The chances of him waking somebody up were virtually non-existent, but she didn't want to risk being overheard by somebody allied towards Xehanort and his cause. Earlier that morning, shortly after healing Ven, she felt like something was wrong. She hadn't been able to place the feeling, so she let it go, but the very idea that somebody had seen her performing magic continued to niggle at the back of her mind, refusing to let go. For once, she decided to listen to her instincts and her instincts were telling her to be more careful. But she couldn't tell Ven that — he would freak out and ask her never to use her magic to help him again. He would spend most of his time worrying about her when he should be looking after himself. Besides — it was her job to worry about him, not the other way around.
Unfortunately, Ven was still bouncing up and down, his grin gleeful. He was like a puppy with boundless, untameable energy. She placed a hand on his shoulder, chuckling softly. "Ven, please, sit still for a minute."
"Okay!" Ven chirped. He stopped hopping from knee to knee and sat down cross legged in front of her, his expression bright and eager. "So what happened?"
There was so much she wanted to tell him — a lot had happened since they last saw each other in the kitchen earlier on in the day — but she didn't know how to explain it all. For a moment, Aqua wondered if she should tell him about the scars on Naminé's arms, after all she normally told him anything, no matter how small it might seem, but a small voice was niggling her at the back of her mind, telling her that she should keep it to herself, out of respect of the girl's privacy. Ven would understand. It wasn't like he had revealed all of his deepest, darkest secrets to her.
Aqua hugged her knees close to her chest and rested her chin on top of them, locking gazes with her best friend. She couldn't help but smile at the sight of his excited, bubbly appearance. He was always so optimistic and eager to please — it was a trait she truly envied and she wished she possessed the same unshakable faith in the world, but she couldn't, not after her parents had died. Not after her whole world came crashing down around her, leaving her with nothing but the clothes on her back and the small teddy sat on her tiny windowsill.
She sighed internally, averting her gaze to the scratchy blanket shrouding her form. She tugged at a loose thread as she began her story, "I was collecting Miss Naminé's laundry for the night. As you know, you have to pass the main entrance to the dungeon to get to her room." She glanced up at Ven, searching for his conformation. When he nodded, Aqua dipped her head again and continued, "I was walking down the hallway, when I noticed that some guards were escorting a prisoner down to the dungeons. I was...well, I was morbidly intrigued. I've never seen this happen when I was around before, so I stopped to watch what was going on."
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Ven lean in a little, his eyes wide with anticipation. She almost smiled at this.
"The man — the prisoner — he was quite young. He couldn't have been much older than me and he had these intense blue eyes which stared straight into your soul. His hair kind of sticks up—" She indicated with her hands the best she could, "—and is kind of styled into spikes." She chuckled fondly, reaching out to tug on one of his unruly locks, her voice becoming teasing, "His hair was nowhere near as crazy as yours, of course."
Ven, despite her teasing, was no longer smiling. His lips were set in a grim, straight line as he stared past her, grinding his teeth. "He's the guy who attacked Miss Xion." He whispered harshly, his hands clenching and unclenching.
Shocked, Aqua placed a hand on the boy's knee and squeezed it comfortingly. She knew how attached he was to the young princess — he freaked out whenever she got the smallest cut and would refused to forgive himself for days, claiming it to be his fault. She didn't want him to do something stupid this time, like seek the man out and demand to know why he attempted to hurt the girl. She knew that if he did that, he would end up doing something he would regret for the rest of his life. She needed to keep him grounded somehow. "You're certain of it?" Aqua asked slowly and quietly, hoping that she didn't offend him with her disbelieving tone.
He met her gaze, nodding vigorously, his blue eyes narrowed and dangerous. "I've never been more certain of anything." He promptly folded his arms across his chest defiantly, as if daring her to speak out against him. "She described his eyes and his hair almost the same way you did."
She wanted to rationalise with him before he started getting really mad, sensing that his emotions were completely out of balance. Ven was normally a placid boy who abhorred all kinds of violence, but when somebody threatened someone he cherished, he was not a force to be reckoned with. She'd seen first-hand the irritated glint in his eyes and heard his clipped, harsh tone as he struggled to cage his emotions; never did she want to be on the bad side of her dearest friend when he got into one of those kinds of moods.
In an attempt to comfort him, she rubbed his arm soothingly. "Ven, it doesn't matter. Xion is fine. She wasn't hurt." The woman's face paled as a horrid thought struck her. If that man was indeed the person who had tried to attack Xion, then that could mean only one thing. Her voice was no louder than a whisper when she chose to spoke again, "That man will be...gone tomorrow. There's nothing to worry about."
"That's not the point, Aqua!" The boy exploded, his nostrils flaring with anger as he shrugged off her hand irritably. "He tried to have her killed! She could have died! He deserves to suffer!"
She recoiled as though he had just bitten her, feeling her eyes widen automatically. He'd never once yelled at her before and she had never, ever seen Ven like this — he seemed genuinely angry towards the man who had attempted to take the young princess' life.
He stared at her for a long time, his cheeks reddening with shame. He ducked his head and muttered an apology before suddenly shooting to his feet and making his way towards the door again.
Startled by his sudden movements, she scrambled after him and placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. "Look, Ven. I know you are hurt, angry even, but that does not give you any right to go down there and seek revenge." She squeezed his arm firmly, keeping her voice soft and gentle. "You know, just as well as I do, that revenge only hurts people more. It will scar you in ways you can never hope to imagine." She loosened her grip on him and sighed. "So I am going to beg to you now, Ven; please, just let it go."
He slowly turned towards her, his face creased into a distressed, shameful expression. "You're right, Aqua; I can't seek revenge for something that didn't happen." He clenched his hands into fists and laughed bitterly. "What could I do anyway? He is going to be executed tomorrow. What good would killing him now do? I'll probably end up getting executed myself." A sudden weariness overcame the boy as he swayed towards the door, looking away from her. "I'll see you in the morning, Aqua. Thank you..."
Aqua shook her head. Ven had been through a lot; more than she cared to think about. He lost his parents and older brother during the war which was still waging heavily between the many realms in the Kingdom of Trinitas. He was captured by Xehanort's forces and brought to live at the castle when he was just eight years old. Even now she could remember how empty he had seemed when he came through those double doors, his head hanging listlessly. It had taken him a while, but he eventually opened up to her and accepted her as a friend. Even back then, he had been consumed with hatred towards the man whom had ordered the attack on his village; Xehanort. It had mellowed over the years, but she knew that that same consuming hatred for the man still burned deep within him and had spread to other areas of his life, too.
"Oh, Ven." She murmured sadly. With a shake of her head, she grabbed the boy and pulled him into an embrace, smiling slightly when she felt him stiffen against her. "It's okay to hurt every now and again." She murmured, stroking his fluffy hair gently. "It happens to the best of us."
'It happens to the best of us...' Those words sounded foreign in her mouth. They sounded fake. But nevertheless, she felt Ven relax into her arms and bury his face in her shoulder.
And only then did she feel the tears against her bare skin.
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Naminé stared listlessly up at the stone ceiling above her bed, silently counting each square slab of granite, wondering how long it would take for her to fall asleep. She supposed that it was late — the rest of the castle was eerily silent; not even the tell-tale rustle of servants could be heard in the hallways. This was one of the many reasons why she immensely preferred it at night. Instead of being rushed and ordered about by Xehanort like some foolish slave, she was free to do what she pleased. Mostly, that meant either drawing or wandering the battlements, staring out at the big wide world before her.
Time and time again, Naminé had begged Xehanort to let her out, to let her see the world with her own eyes rather than listen to the tales Aqua often told her. She wanted freedom, adventure, excitement...maybe even love. She wanted it all. She wanted to explore every corner of the Kingdom, she wanted to learn all there was to learn, she wanted see all there was to see, but most of all she wanted a life where she could live in peace, away from Xehanort.
She had dreamed of a life like that for so long. In the beginning, she truly believed in those dreams, but as she grew older it began to draw further and further away from her until it was nothing more than a childish hope to keep her holding on. Now, of course, she knew her hopes of ever leaving the castle were minimum. Xehanort would never let her leave, not by choice anyway.
A part of her did not understand why he didn't just kill her where she stood — he seemed to despise her enough and always treated her with a sense of disdain — but she soon came to realise that there was more to him than that. While he came across as a horrible old King who took great pleasure in watching others suffer, Naminé knew the man hidden beneath all of that, swathed in shadows. He was pure evil. He took great interest in dark magic, even though he abhorred it, and was meticulous enough to know which parts of the body he would have to crush until somebody passed out from the pain. He was a ruthless King and he had destroyed the lands her parents had once ruled over, turning light into shadow and good into bad. He commanded a mass following, all allied to his dark intentions and somehow managed to keep the entire Realm under his reign.
The Enlightened Realm, where her parents used to rule, was finally given to King Eraqus, who was the middle brother of the Tenebris lineage, after a long and bloody battle with Xehanort's forces. However, Eraqus was not content with the way in which his brother was commanding his Realm. He had tried to thwart the man in his tracks before his ever-growing power came too great, but he ultimately failed when Xehanort's forces charged into the Realm Between and wiped out most of the villages overnight, destroying over half of his Realm. Once Eraqus had regrouped his forces, Xehanort had already swept through his lands, leaving him with virtually nothing. Word was that he was still trying to rebuild his Realm so he could face off against Xehanort again, but Naminé doubted he would ever have the forces and means to do so. Unless the man suddenly died in his sleep one night, they would be stuck with the insufferable King for the foreseeable future.
Naminé sighed heavily. She saw no way out of this hellhole. Xehanort watched her at every turn, claiming to be a doting father figure when in fact she knew he was keeping an eye on her for other, more sinister reasons. Quite frankly, she preferred to stay in the dark regarding his plans. One day she would have to face up to him, but it would not be today.
The small girl held her bare arms out above her head, her lips pursing. She was still wearing the dress Xehanort had gifted her with, partly because it was a hassle to get off and partly because it was a lot easier just to wait until morning to get changed when Aqua would be able to assist her. It wouldn't matter too terribly anyway. It was not like she planned on going anywhere until then, so nobody would see her, or the ugly scars tainting her skin.
Unconsciously, she tugged on her sleeves, drawing them over her wrists. Of course, as soon as she let go they sprung straight back up, but she was too tired to care. She rolled onto her belly and buried her face in her satin pillows, revelling in the silence surrounding her, smothering her. For a moment, she could pretend that she wasn't trapped within the cold stone walls of the castle. For a moment, she could be whoever she wanted to be. She could be free of her scars, free of her burdens and free of all responsibility. That was what she wanted, was it not?
Whatever she had been about to think next was abruptly cut off as a loud slamming sound met her ears.
Almost immediately, Naminé sat bolt upright, a hand pressed against her heart, which was hammering unrelentingly against her ribcage. She had no idea where the noise had come from or what could have possibly caused it, but instead of being afraid like she possibly should have been, she felt a sudden surge of excitement rush through her.
She shuffled over to the edge of the bed and tossed her legs over the side so that they dangled above the stone floor. Once her bare feet touched the ground, she shuddered violently and grabbed her cloak from where she had tossed it earlier that evening. Naminé carefully drew the material around her shoulders and stopped beside the fireplace at the foot of her bed. Only a few embers stirred within its metal jaws now, but it still gave off enough heat to reach her cheeks, for which she was thankful as there was a certain chill in the air. Slowly, she reached out for the poker standing beside the mantle and hefted it over her shoulder experimentally. Never in her life had she been taught how to hold a weapon, let alone wield one, so she didn't think she would be able to do much else except intimidate an intruder long enough to shout for help. But that didn't bother her too much as there was a rather minute chance of there even being an intruder within the castle walls.
Now relatively well armed for whatever threat waited for her on the other side of her old oak door, she padded towards it, brandishing the poker like a heavy club. When her fingertips brushed against the brass latch, she was overcome by a sudden sense of uncertainty. What if she had imagined the whole ordeal? What if the loud crash had been nothing more than her childish imagination getting away from her?
But then another question posed itself in her mind; what if she hadn't imagined it? What then? What was she supposed to do? She was up in the highest room in the castle — nobody was around to help her, meaning she would have to take care of herself. But then again, she had always made a point of looking after herself. It was the way in which she had to live, anyhow. Xehanort was hardly the type to offer her such assistance.
Naminé reaffirmed her grip on the metal poker in her hands and glared defiantly at the door in front of her. She was a princess and therefore did not scare easily. Not only that, but she had been to hell and back in her short sixteen years. Whatever was hiding behind that door, she was fairly certain she could handle it. Her father had raised her to be a tough little girl, after all.
Without another moment of hesitation, she grabbed a hold of the brass handle and lifted it up, releasing the latch. The door swung towards her with a whispering creak, leaving a gaping, dark hole in her wall. The hallway before her was virtually pitch black, with not even the light of the moon from outside casting a glow across the thin corridor. Although Naminé was alone, she was not in the least bit frightened as she took a cautious step out of the comforts of her room, holding the poker in her hands a little higher, as if to ward off the darkness itself.
A high pitched whistling sound worked its way into her senses, partnered with the sound of something metallic slapping against a stone wall. The sudden bellow of wind smashing into her face snatched at her courage, but she remained firm, breathing in and out slowly to keep herself calm. The wind had to have come from somewhere — her logical mind told her that much — but she couldn't see her own hand in front of her face, so she simply couldn't decipher what it might be. The harsh slapping continued and Naminé found herself charging onwards, slashing her poker at the air in front of her, only to reach the source of the noise a lot quicker than she had expected.
Much to her surprise, it was only a window that had been thrown open, leaving it to flap back and forth on its hinges, its latch practically obliterated by the howling winds still whipping about her face. She did not allow herself to let out a sigh of relief even when she closed the offending window and secured the now flimsy latch, but felt slightly more relaxed than she had done a few moments ago. Who would have thought that Castle Oblivion could be so frightening at night?
For once, Naminé did not pause by the window to stare down at the empty courtyard bathed in moonlight and instead began traipsing back to her room, the poker trailing behind her. She shouldered the door open and stepped into the refuge which was her room, immediately shutting the wooden door behind her. She leant against it and pressed the back of her free hand to her forehead, wrinkling her nose with disgust when it came away damp with sweat. For a moment there, she felt a small ounce of fear budding inside of her. She could not for the life of her think of why that was, but she put it down to her frayed nerves. Xehanort appeared to have really gotten under her skin this time.
If only she had heeded her instincts.
The girl pushed herself away from the door and took a step towards her bed, still clutching firmly at the metal object in her left hand. She was tired and her mind was playing tricks on her. She just needed a good night's rest to clear her head because tomorrow, it would be an all-out war against Xehanort. Naminé gritted her teeth determinedly and tossed her poker to the ground by the fire, cringing at the clanging noise it made against the stone flooring. She barely made it to the foot of her bed when her door let out an ominous creak as it swung open.
She turned towards it, her breath hitching in her throat. Nobody stood in the now empty doorway, like she had expected, but if possible it seemed a lot darker than it had been a few minutes ago. Naminé rushed towards it and slammed it shut, ignoring the quick, heavy beats of her heart. She mentally scolded herself; she was being foolish. There was a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why her door had opened on its own like that. She was letting fear get to her. She needed to remain strong, firm and in control.
Naminé let out a huff of annoyance and pounded her small fist against the shiny wooden surface, frustrated with herself. "There is nobody here." She whispered harshly, her lips twisting into a scowl. "I am all alone. I am all alone."
"Well, I wouldn't say all alone, princess." A silky, masculine voice suddenly purred, dangerously close to her ear.
She flinched, letting out a silent squeak of surprise before wheeling around to face the man, raising her arm to strike out at them, but the unseen figure caught her hand and deftly twisted it behind her back. She cried out, her entire wrist throbbing with pain and tried desperately to free herself, twisting and bucking as the man's other arm encircled her waist, holding her firmly against their broad, strong chest.
She opened her mouth to scream but another, slightly smaller hand covered her lips and the noise died in her throat. Her eyes widened with a mixture of fear and anger as a woman's face swam in her vision. Her slicked back blonde hair glinted in the soft glint of the embers which remained in her fireplace, highlighting her elegant cheekbones and adding emphasis to her bright, electric aquamarine eyes which were alight with a sadistic glee. Her thin lips were curled into a cruel sneer as she leaned into the girl's face, her antennae-like strands brushing her forehead. "Go on. Scream. Give me a reason to shut you up."
Naminé glared at her, warning the woman away with her eyes as she continued to struggle against her captor, but the blonde did not relent. Growing impatient and maybe even a little angry with her current predicament, Naminé bit at the woman's hand with the ferocity of a wild animal.
The blonde howled in pain and staggered back, clutching at her injured hand, her teeth bared in a wolf-like snarl.
The man still holding her snickered, "Wow, she's got some guts, I tell you." He jostled the young girl gently when she tried to scramble out of his arms and hooted playfully, "Pretty damn feisty for a princess! I like you!"
Unfortunately, the woman Naminé had bitten recovered fairly quickly, shaking her hand agitatedly and glowering at the young girl, her eyes filled with hatred. "You little bitch!" She cursed, spitting the word at her like she was vermin. "Let her go, Axel! I'll deal with her myself!"
The man — Axel, she now knew was his name — grunted and held a warning hand up towards his companion. "Larxene, calm down. Don't do anything stupid. The boss man said—"
"I don't care what he said!" Larxene snarled and grabbed for the girl, her fingers bent into claws, like she was attempting to claw Naminé's face apart.
This wasn't going to end well, she could sense it. Whatever they planned to do with her would most likely happen, but that did not mean in any sense that she would give up without a fight.
Determined to free herself, the blonde threw her head back and slammed it into Axel's chin. Surprised, he cursed and released his hold on her, his hand flying up to cup his face. Naminé darted for the poker resting by the fireplace, but before her fingers could curl around its intricate handle, she felt something solid slam into the back of her neck, right by the base of her skull. Her vision became hazy, the bright embers simmering in the fireplace flickering and swirling until her entire world went black and she collapsed to the floor.
Axel walked up beside her unconscious form, rotating his jaw uncomfortably, rubbing the tender spot with his hand. "Now that really hurt." He muttered sourly, his slanted green eyes watching her carefully as her chest rose and fell evenly. "No wonder Terra had trouble with her."
Larxene scoffed and quickly bound the girl's wrists before throwing her over her shoulder like she weighed nothing more than a sack of potatoes. She turned to Axel and glared, "Let's get out of here before I shove a knife through her pretty little stomach."
The redhead frowned as the blonde headed towards the corridor and shook his head, hissing quietly, "But what about Terra? Roxas said—"
The woman tossed him a slanted look over the girl's tiny body, cutting him off sharply, "Look, he gave us explicit instructions to kidnap the precious little princess and recon the castle." She rolled her eyes and threw open the wooden door, not caring if it made a loud noise when it slammed against the wall. "He did not tell us to heroically stage a jailbreak only to get captured ourselves." She moved out into the hallway, her voice no louder than a low growl, "I'd say we've done our job, so move it, pyro."
"We can't leave him!" Axel protested noisily as he hurried after the young woman. He reached out and grabbed her wrist, forcing her to face him. His nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed. "This is the only chance we're gonna to get." He emphasised the word 'only' to try and get his point across, but Larxene didn't seem to care.
Her face contorted with anger and she shrugged off his hand, her electric blue eyes darkening, "If you want to risk your life, then by all means — go for it!" She snapped, walking over to the window with the broken latch and pulling it back. She reached down and grabbed a hold of the rope dangling beneath the stone overhang before hefting herself up onto the window sill, where she perched for a moment, muttering icily, "I won't mourn for you when you end up hanging from the gallows."
The young man clenched his hands into fists and shook his head, causing his hair which was loosely tied up by the nape of his neck to flick back and forth. "I don't like it. This isn't right." He growled, hovering uncertainly by the window, his eyes never leaving hers.
Larxene sighed impatiently, shifting the girl's weight slightly. "You don't have to like it." She spat coldly, jerking her head towards the edge of the castle wall, "Now let's go before you get us captured."
In a flash, Larxene slipped over the side of the sill and descended, leaving Axel alone in the corridor. She didn't even seem to show any remorse for leaving one of their comrades behind. But who was he kidding? She was a heartless bitch after all.
Worriedly, he glanced towards the winding spiral staircase and closed his eyes for a moment. He could only hope that Riku didn't know about Terra just yet. If he found out that they'd been to the castle but hadn't attempted to rescue him...he didn't want to think about how angry the young man would be.
Becoming thoroughly agitated with himself, Axel tossed his head and followed Larxene's lead by grabbing the taut rope and throwing himself out of the window. His feet barely had chance to touch the ground before the woman he had accompanied to the castle began running towards the forest, still carrying the unconscious girl over her shoulder.
Axel jogged after her, pausing only for a moment to glance back at the looming castle behind him before disappearing into the cool night, unaware of the pair of eyes watching him from the highest window in the tallest tower.
····» ₪ «····
Dawn was upon them by the time Axel and Larxene reached the edge of the forests of Xehanort's Realm. Axel knelt down, inspecting the soil which seemed to have been disturbed recently, a light smirk appearing on his face. Their camp was not too far away, and a good thing, too.
Larxene shifted the unconscious princess from where she was still draped over her shoulders and scowled across at the sun as it began to peak over the rolling hills to the east, her mood steadily souring. "The sooner we get back the better." She growled, sticking one hand on her hip as she paused to catch her breath, "I can't stand another moment lugging around all this dead weight."
The redhead straightened from where he had been crouched in the earth and held his arm out impatiently. "Give her here." When she turned to him, her expression dry, he sneered suddenly, his green eyes sparkling with sarcasm, "We don't want you getting a bad back now, do we?" He grunted when Larxene scowled and promptly tossed the poor girl at him without any regard for her immediate welfare. Luckily, he managed to wrap his lanky arm around the girl's upper torso before slinging her over his shoulder, his smirk morphing into a grimace. "Hit a nerve, eh Larxene?"
The blonde barely even bothered to toss him a glare as she began hiking into the forests of the Realm Between, her boots crunching the grass underneath her feet. She didn't waste her time waiting to see if he was following her — she didn't really care either way — she just wanted to deliver the girl and sleep for a solid twenty four hours. If she didn't respect her leader as much as she did, she would have ignored his orders and stayed at camp, but as it was, she liked the way he was going about fighting Xehanort and found his aims most agreeable. Axel, on the other hand, would do anything their boss asked of them at the drop of a hat, whether or not he liked what was involved.
Axel didn't bother trying to keep up with Larxene; she wasn't the type of person he preferred to have a conversation with, especially as most of the time she was either trying to flirt rather badly with him or insult his pride. No, he would much rather spend his time with the young princess who had yet to awaken. He shifted his hold on her, noting her weight to be a lot lighter than he would have expected in a girl such living a lavish life. She was also a lot smaller than he had originally thought, making the dress she was wearing look remarkably large on her petite form. The cloak which hung around her neck billowed slightly in the soft summer's breeze and he thought about removing it when it blew into his face for at least the fifth time, but decided against it when he felt the girl shiver.
He glanced back at her serene face. She was still unconscious. Surely that couldn't be a good thing? Shouldn't she have woken by now? Well, either way, he wasn't about to start taking chances when her life could be on the line. He could only imagine what Roxas' reaction would be like if he discovered that his only bargaining chip for Terra's life was just about as useless as a toothpick in the middle of a sword fight.
"Larxene." He called sharply as he paused and lowered the girl onto the dew covered grass. The cloak swathed her body and her hair fanned out against the ground, making her face look even younger. She couldn't be any older than sixteen at the most and he found that fact somewhat unnerving. He looked towards his companion and called, "Hold up."
"Why the hell should I?" She snapped irritably, wheeling around to face him, her lips curled into a snarl. When she saw that he had stopped, she glared at him and hissed, "What are you doing? We need to keep moving you idiot, we can't afford to waste any more time!"
Axel rolled his eyes and reached for the water skin tucked into the pouch on his waist. "I get that. But I'm not about to be responsible for the princess' death just because you decided to get a little violent." He pulled out the cork and lifted the young girl's head away from the ground before placing the water skin to her lips, a frown overtaking his features.
"Oh what are you talking about?" Larxene groaned impatiently as she stomped back to stand above him, her arms crossed over her chest as she eyed him disdainfully.
"She should have woken up by now." The redhead stated bluntly as he glanced between his companion's face and the outer edges of the forest. He knew it was risky to stop now, especially when they were still so close to Xehanort's Realm, but he wasn't about to have a dead's princess' life on his conscience. He tilted the container back, pouring a small amount of water onto her parted lips. Some of the liquid slid into her mouth, but most of it dripped down her chin. He grimaced and quickly wiped it away with his fraying sleeve.
"So?" The blonde woman scoffed, turning her head towards the sky, her eyes half-lidded. "Let the brat stay unconscious for all I care." She shot the young princess a rather filthy stare as she spat, "At least she's keeping that damn mouth of hers sh—"
The princess suddenly let out a loud, throaty cough, her back arching in Axel's arms. Her eyelids fluttered and she coughed again, louder this time, her head tipping to the side. Not knowing quite what to do, Axel rolled her onto her side and awkwardly patted her back until her coughs subsided and she lay gasping for breath, her eyes still clamped shut.
"There you have it!" Larxene declared, throwing her arms skyward agitatedly. "Are you satisfied now? She's fine. She's breathing. Now we can get going." Without waiting to hear his reply, she started stalking onwards, her strides short and angry. She only paused for a moment to glance back at him, wearing an expression that he couldn't decipher, but he was almost certain it was laced with annoyance. "Well? Are you coming, pyro?"
He looked down at the princess again when she groaned, noticing how her eyelids were still fluttering slightly as she began to regain consciousness. With a heavy sigh, he looped her bound wrists around his neck and threw her over his shoulder again, rising unsteadily to his feet as he began to follow after the rather impatient Larxene who was now quite a way ahead.
Not wanting to jostle the girl and risk her choking again, he kept his pace to a speedy walk, his strides long and loping. In no time at all, he caught up with his companion and who was about to say something undoubtedly obnoxious when the young girl in his arms let out a sharp gasp and started kicking her legs.
"No... No, no!" She cried, her slender arms whacking at his back rather infuriatingly. Panic welled up within her. Naminé knew exactly what had befallen her and could honestly say that she felt frightened for her own wellbeing. She feared that if she did not manage to free herself before her kidnappers arrived at wherever it was they were taking her, something even worse would come to pass. And so, she continued to struggle and screech, "Put me down! Let go of me! Let me go right now, you monsters!"
Larxene visibly bristled at the comment and made a move to most probably knock the girl out for a second time, when Axel raised a hand to stop her.
He plastered a bright smirk onto his face, glancing over his shoulder to meet the girl's frightened, infuriated gaze. "Well, good morning princess!" He hollered sarcastically, ignoring the tiny, insignificant blows she continued to rain down upon his back, "We were beginning to wonder if you were ever going to wake up!"
"Although some of us much preferred it when you were unconscious." Larxene muttered sourly, her hands hovering by her upper thigh, where she was well known to keep her precious knives. Axel shot her a warning look, which she completely disregarded.
For a moment, Naminé was completely baffled by their words. While she knew what had happened, she did not fully understand what was going on and still felt disorientated from being unconscious for so long. "You..." She let out an indignant noise and tossed her head haughtily. "You...you fiends! I demand you put me down right this instance! I am a princess; you have no right to—!"
"Oh relax!" Axel cut in with a lazy laugh, throwing his head back and spreading his free arm wide, twirling for the girl's benefit. "Enjoy the view while you can!" He tossed her a crazy grin and waggled his eyebrows. "Where we're going, you probably won't be seeing this neck of the woods for quite some time."
Her voice now no louder than a whisper, the princess struggled to peer over her own shoulder at her two captors. "Who are you people? Bandits? Pirates?" She narrowed her eyes, quite clearly remembering the many stories she had heard about the ruffians which trawled through the forests to the North. They were supposed to be bloodthirsty cut-throat murderers with a crippling lust for gold... The blonde curled her lip in contempt at the thought. Perhaps she could bargain for her freedom. "What do you want? Money? I have money, I'll give you as much as you desire if you release me."
The older woman let out a derisive snort, her cruel aquamarine eyes slanting towards the struggling princess who tried — and failed — to glare filthily at her. "Tch. Predictable response."
The redhead carrying the young girl let out a dramatic sigh, "As much as it grieves me to say this princess — we don't want money." He laughed darkly, his voice becoming tinged with sarcasm as he blatantly mocked her, "You're going to be stuck with us for quite some time, so I'd get used to the idea of being a captive if I were you, your highness."
Anger soon drowned out the panic and fear which had distilled within her. She began writhing within the man's grasp, twisting and bucking for all she was worth, smacking her bound arms against his upper back, not caring whether she brought injury to herself "No. I will not allow it!" She managed to land a kick dangerously near to his groin, causing him to jerk, almost dropping her as she continued to yell, "I refuse to be taken prisoner by a pair of ruffians!"
Before she knew what was happening, there was a knife at her throat and Larxene's face swam before her own. Naminé breathed in sharply, all of her courage washing straight out of her. "Oh, you poor thing!" The woman cooed cruelly, lightly dragging the tip of her wicked dagger along the base of her throat, applying enough pressure to make her uncomfortable. "Well, unless you haven't noticed, princess, you're already our prisoner." All too soon, the woman's fake smile dropped from her face and she glared ferociously at the girl, her lips curling into a deadly sneer as she continued to hold the dreaded blade against her exposed neck. "So unless you want me to cut out that pretty little tongue of yours, I suggest you shut the hell up, stop squirming and deal with it. Are we clear?"
Naminé swallowed thickly. What other choice did she have? If she even were able to escape, she knew she would be struck down before she even made it five steps. If this woman was indeed as sharp and as fast as she appeared, the princess did not stand a chance. And so, with a hint of defiance still present within her voice, she replied haltingly, "Yes."
"Good." The pressure of the knife was lifted and Larxene's face withdrew. "I'm so thrilled we had that little chat."
The blonde woman backed away and resumed her position beside Axel, who gave her a hasty once over and chastised his companion gruffly, "Larxene."
"What? Oh don't give me that. She's a spoilt brat. It'll serve her right if something unfortunate happens to her before we arrive back at camp."
"Where are you taking me?" The thoroughly shaken princess asked, her voice subdued and cautious. The last thing he wanted was to provoke the blonde woman any further. She had already proved to be quite a terrifying person, willing to harm her should she irritate her any further and Naminé was not going to take any chances. She would play along as the subdued prisoner...for now. But as soon as she was given an opening to escape, she would and without any hesitation.
This time, Axel spoke, the cheerfulness in his voice clearly forced. "How delightful of you to ask! Well, questions can be answered later." He pushed aside a swath of bracken in their path and stepped grandly into a clearing. "We're here!"
Naminé scowled and rolled her eyes, unable to see anything except the path in which they had taken. She opened her mouth to speak, only to suddenly find herself thrown unceremoniously to the ground, her hands unable to break her fall as they were bound in front of her. She let out a slight cry as she landed on her bum, but was quick to silence herself when she heard other people approaching.
"Axel, Larxene! You're back!" A girl's voice cried.
The blonde forced herself into her knees, not caring if her dress got ruined — she could think of no better fate for the dreadful item which her Uncle had gifted her with. She was quick to draw the cloak around her to hide her wrists, thankful that it had not been removed on their journey. She glanced up as somebody suddenly knelt down before her, shoving their face exceptionally close to hers.
A young man, who looked not a day older than herself, was staring intently at her face, one hand cupping his chin thoughtfully. In his other hand, he held a beautiful silver staff, which he was leaning comfortably against, without any apparent regard for the laws of gravity. He had long brunette hair which was tied back in a braid held dutifully in place by an exotic looking ornament. His eyes were chocolatey brown and inquisitive, glinting with obvious curiosity as he continued to watch her. "Well, what d'you know? They actually managed to bring the princess back in one piece." When the Princess stared right back at him, his lips twitched into a slight scowl as he snapped, "What are you lookin' at blondie?"
Naminé scrambled away from the young brunette, finding him to be much too close to her. She prided her personal space and the young man was stepping dangerously close to crossing the invisible taboo line ranging from uncomfortable to downright rude. She wanted to snap right back at him, but found she couldn't utter the right words.
A girl with bright pink hair strung up into a high ponytail suddenly appeared beside the boy and slapped his arm in a reprimanding manner. "Palom, back off and give her some space! There's no need to be so rude!" She scolded, her scowl melting away into a cheerful smile when she met the princess' confused stare. She was holding her own staff, Naminé noticed, and it was just as fascinating as the boy's.
The boy — Palom — rubbed at his arm absent-mindedly, rolling his eyes. "Oh, cool off, Porom." He broke away from the girl, whom Naminé assumed to be his sister if their names and appearances were anything to go by, and turned back towards the princess, a smirk of his own making its way onto his face. "The name's Palom. I'm—"
Palom was cruelly cut off when Larxene shoved by him with a low snarl, "Move it, you little runt."
Obviously enraged, the brunette rolled up the sleeves of his green tunic and brandished his staff threateningly, his eyebrow quirked challengingly. "We'll see who's calling who a runt in a minute..."
The blonde merely cackled, pulling out one of her knives and twirling it expertly. "Oh I'm so scared."
Naminé watched the two with a sense of alarm. Surely Larxene would severely injure the boy if they were to engage in a fight? He only had a staff against those deadly daggers. That and he did not look nearly as tough as the woman who was casually fingering one of her knives, a sadistic grin playing about her lips. But then, Palom looked pretty determined and the confident tilt to his head suggested there was a lot more to him than meets the eye.
"You should be." The brunette declared, shifting his stance and holding his staff in front of him, "I'll come over there and kick your ass, you whiny little—"
Porom promptly stepped between the two, holding her own staff up to ward off Larxene. "Palom, stop it." She made a shooing motion at the brunette, her tone disapproving, "We have a guest; remember your manners."
Palom straightened and tucked his staff under his arm, stifling an annoyed pout as he huffed angrily, "Oh what does it matter? I've never been one for manners anyway. Why should I care what some princess thinks? I'm the Prodigy."
Naminé, while disturbed by his strange attitude, disregarded his rudeness towards her and sat a little straighter, holding her blind wrists against her chest, which were generously covered by her cloak. She was thoroughly confused by what was going on. From what she could see, she had been brought to a camp hidden at the foot of a large hill, where several billowing tents were set up, dotted around the small clearing, but she still had no idea why she had even been brought to such a place. This so called camp was a filthy pig sty. How people could even live under such conditions amazed her. She tilted her head back, slightly unnerved to see the branches of unfamiliar trees overhead, barring her view of the morning sky.
While a part of her was sincerely thrilled to finally be outside of the castle walls, she did not favour the manner in which she had come to be here. She had always imagined that she would be free — free to make her own decisions, not to be taken prisoner by a bunch of riffraff without any apparent cause for doing so.
With that thought in mind, she tended her jaw and squared her shoulders, declaring boldly, "I demand to know what's going on. What am I doing here?"
"So, you want to know what you're doing here, do you?" A cold voice asked. "Very well, I shall enlighten you."
Naminé's head whipped around towards the source of the voice, ignoring the goose bumps which travelled down her spine as her ears caught the rich and silky tones laced with slight aloofness. However, when her eyes landed upon the tall, proud figure of the young man standing a few feet away from her, she could not hold back the soft gasp which passed her lips.
He was unlike any other man she had ever laid eyes on. If she were to describe him in one word, she would have said that he was majestic. He held himself with the authority of a prince; his chin was lifted arrogantly, his icy blue eyes staring intensely into her own as he regarded her like one would someone beneath them. While this would usually irritate her, she was speechless and could not find the words to reprimand him.
Her eyes travelled down. He was wearing a simple fraying white tunic which was tucked loosely into a pair of black leather pants which hugged his lithe figure. On his feet sat a pair of heavy looking boots which laced up at the front, stopping a good few inches beneath his knees. Attached to the belt on his hip sat a scabbard with a terrifyingly dangerous looking sword. She could not help but stare up at him in awe as he stopped beside Palom and Porom for a moment, tipping his head gracefully towards them.
The two twins glanced up at him and stepped aside, bowing their heads as he passed by them, suddenly striding towards the Princess, his expression as cold and unforgiving as his icy blue eyes as he spoke in a flat, almost bored tone, "You are the bargaining chip which will help to save my comrade's life and bring down Xehanort from his reign of tyranny."
She couldn't speak — she couldn't even utter a sound. She was sure that her face was as white as a sheet and that her eyes were practically bulging out of her skull, but she did not care. Inside, she was severely freaked out.
It wasn't his stunning good-looks and silky, hushed voice that was the reason for her sudden and rather impractical breathlessness, although it was a rather large factor.
The real reason behind her shock was how he looked. The longer she stared at him, the more confused she became, because the man standing before her could easily be an exact replica of Aqua's beloved friend and fellow servant, Ventus. What was worse, he expected to use her as a bargaining chip for something undoubtedly illegal.
And so, she did the only thing a princess in her current predicament could do — she ran.
A/N: And so, the real action begins and Roxas finally meets Naminé, although she doesn't yet realise who he is. I'll be developing their relationship slowly — they're going to be at odds with one another for quite some time — but that's the beauty of it. The slow build of their relationship should hopefully contrast well with the action/adventure present throughout the later chapters of this story. Yes, they're both pretty OOC, but the idea is that they'll both grow into the characters we all know and love as their relationship builds. ^^
We also had a small appearance from Terra — who is obviously Xehanort's prisoner currently — and he will be appearing in a later chapter. I'm still undecided whether or not I'll allow him to die. I suppose it's up to you guys to tell me what you think muahahaha!
I have to say, I'm really beginning to enjoy this. I can't wait to get deeper into the tale and unravel some secrets. It's going to be jam packed with action and adventure later on — so I'm pretty excited!
I hope you all like how this is going so far!
Until next time!
~AusisWinds-13
