:: Chapter Two ::

The Council

"This is ridiculous!"

"They're far too presumptuous if they think we would even consider such a course of action!"

"More like completely insane!"

After several more outbursts such as these, Queen Serenity finally got to her feet and called for order, her voice sharp and commanding. The large round table before her—filled with the royalty of the solar system—immediately hushed. The Queen of Lunara let her piercing gaze slowly swing around the Silver Alliance, her expression firm.

Queen Psyche sat immediately to Serenity's right. The incredibly beautiful blonde Venusian was dressed in flowing, diaphanous peach-colored robes that left her arms bare, save for the delicate gold jewelry that encased them. Her head and neck decorated with the same, she cut quite an exotically attractive figure, and it was boasted that you would be hard pressed to find a more physically pleasing woman in the whole of the solar system. The Venusian Queen had never taken a husband, though she had had many consorts throughout her life, one of which had given her the woman's equally attractive daughter, Mina. Deep golden eyes met Serenity's steely gray for a brief moment. The Lunaran Queen well knew that the flighty stigma that frequently stained her people in no way reflected on their crafty, often subtly cunning Matriarch.

Next to Psyche was King Romulus and his lady wife, Queen Delphi of the desert Kingdom of Mars. The sable-haired man sat tall and proudly in black and white desert garb ornamented in red and gold. The Queen sat at his side draped from head to toe in scarlet silk—proclaiming her Seer status—her face half-enshrouded by gauzy material of the same color and several thin golden chains draped around her brow with disks hanging from them. The only thing visible were her violet eyes, which returned Serenity's gaze with worry in their depths. Delphi was gifted with the ability of foresight, as was her daughter Raye. They had both seen the shadows of the future and warned that evil would befall them now like a disease without swift action to prevent it.

King Hector of Mercury sat next to them, absently adjusting the spectacles on his thin nose and gazing at Serenity expectantly. Hector looked more of an engineer than a King, complete with the oil smudge on the tip of his nose, the stained coveralls that he wore and the workman's goggles still slung absently around his neck and apparently forgotten. His pale blonde hair was streaked in silver, but there was nothing dulled in the sharpness of his ice-blue eyes. Hector's wife, Queen Ismene, had been dead for many years. She had died in rearing their only daughter, Ami, and he had never taken another.

King Theseus of Jupiter was next, the tall and brawny man dwarfing all others at the table. His trappings were that of leather armor and any ornamentation was sparse, only his long flowing tail of silver-streaked light brown hair and fierce black eyes. The great giant crossed his arms now, expression brooding. It was said that one of the few things that could ever force the foreboding man to soften his expression was his tempestuous daughter, Lita.

The next figure seated at the table forced Serenity's hard expression to gentle with sympathy. A tiny girl, no older than fourteen, sat quietly in one of the two seats provided for the planet of Saturn. She was dressed in an ornate violet silk robe that seemed far too austere for one so young, with a high neck tooled in silver and several clasps of the same down the front of it. Soft black hair fell on either side of her pale face, her head currently bowed now and somewhat hiding her two amethyst eyes as well as the intricate silver circlet around her brow. Little Hotaru, now the Queen and sole ruler of her Kingdom, who had seen the death of her parents as well as her two older brothers this past year along with over half of her people. Serenity's heart went out to her. Thus far the child had shown amazing poise and discipline, yet the fact remained that she was still barely fourteen, now forced to shoulder the responsibility of an entire planet on her own.

Next to Hotaru sat King Oceanus and Queen Amphitrite of the aquatic Kingdom of Neptune. Both were draped in intricate silk and leather trappings, which would have been considered immodest to most. For their home, however, the less weight to drag them down in the water, the better. They made up for the lack of cloth with metal, pearl and coral jewelry and other adornments. The King had a head of dark sapphire hair and equally unfathomable blue eyes, while his wife sported brilliant aqua green tresses and blue eyes of her own. Their daughter Michelle and their son Triton both took after their mother in looks.

Next to the Neptunians sat Queen Rhea of the windy Kingdom of Uranus. She was another that had never married, though for her female-dominated society that was not uncommon. The tall, well-built and attractive woman—with ink-black hair and dark blue eyes—had had many consorts in her life as well. Though unlike Psyche—who had allowed herself only one child—Rhea had borne several offspring. Only one of them was female, however, and would therefore succeed her to the throne—her eldest child, Amara.

The chairs of Pluto sat empty. The few Plutonians who had had time to flee before their planet was nearly destroyed and occupied by the forces of the Negaverse were all staying here on Lunara for the time being. Their prized princess, Trista, still sat alone with the Time Gate—unable and unwilling to leave her sworn duty.

Queen Serenity sighed after she'd stared at each in turn, then shook her head slowly.

"I realize that this goes against every moral edict and sacred law that we and our ancestors have held dear for hundreds of centuries. However, much as it pains me to have to say it . . . at this point, I really do not see any other choice that we have left."

"But our daughters, Serenity?" Amphitrite murmured sadly.

"Surely there must be another solution," Hector insisted, absently adjusting the thin-frame spectacles on his nose.

"And not only that," Theseus growled soon after. "Give them Princess Serenity and four of our daughters and the bastards will hold majority over the entire Silver Alliance!"

"I say we wait them out, call their bluff," Romulus demanded.

"They surely cannot think that we would ever actually agree to such nonsense," Oceanus seconded.

"We don't have that kind of time," Psyche argued dryly. "One more month unaided and Saturn will be completely lost to the beasts, and then it will only be a matter of time before they shift their attentions to the rest of us."

"So why not trade your only child to the Earthlings like a common whore," Rhea sneered bitterly, winning a dark scowl from the Venusian Queen. "It's only her dignity and her virtue at stake. But then, what is that to a Venusian, really? They'd spread their legs for a dog on a whim."

"At least we don't pretend to be something we're not," Psyche shot back venomously. Rhea half rose from the table, hand reaching for the sword on her hip.

"Just what is that supposed to mean?" Serenity finally intervened.

"Enough, the both of you!" she snapped, and the other two Matriarchs grudgingly backed down, though not without dirty looks in the others' direction.

"Psyche is right," Delphi murmured softly, then. "I have seen it. Without help, the Alliance will surely fall."

"Is any price so high, to save a life?"

Everyone else in the room suddenly turned to the young Hotaru, who had remained silent up until now. Her head was raised at last, and her soulful violet eyes gazed at each in turn, anguish etched into every square inch of them. Few could muster the courage to hold that gaze for long, shamed. "Is any price so unreasonable," she continued, voice soft and warbling, "if it meant keeping the ones you love safe and free from harm?"

"The child is right," Serenity affirmed after a moment of uncomfortable quiet. "Too long have we clung to this self-righteous pride and arrogance. Coeus tried to warn us before, and we would not see it then. Look at where that superiority has led us; two kingdoms destroyed, a third fast on its way and our only hope for survival resting in the hands of those who are the least inclined to give it." Serenity sat heavily in her chair, head shaking with resignation, her eyes drifting up to the ceiling with defeat. "The boy said it best. This is the price we have wrought for our actions past," she murmured, tone tired. Then her eyes came back to rest on the assembled and her expression was firm and in command once more. "I now put it to a vote. All those in favor of granting Earth admittance into the Alliance—and betrothal to our daughters—say yea. Those not in favor say nay."

Serenity turned to Psyche first. "What say you, Kingdom of Venus?"

"Yea," she murmured after a slight moment of deliberation. Serenity nodded.

"What say you, Kingdom of Mars?"

"Nay," Romulus spouted immediately. His wife quickly jabbed him in the ribs, and after a fierce glare and a few words of their silent mind-speech, the flushing man quickly changed his vote to a grudging, "yea." Serenity nodded again, a slight twitch to her lips that might have been a smile. Then she turned to Theseus.

"What say you, Kingdom of Jupiter?"

"Nay," the large man rumbled, expression dark. "There has to be another way than this." Serenity sighed, but acknowledged his vote.

"What say you, Kingdom of Mercury?"

"Nay," Hector murmured softly, not meeting her gaze. "I could never do that to my Ami."

"What say you, Kingdom of Neptune?" Amphitrite and Oceanus conferred softly for a moment, then the King straightened with a sour look.

"Nay. I cannot condone this." Serenity nodded again, then turned to a scowling Rhea.

"What say you, Kingdom of Uranus?"

"Nay," she snapped, "as if you really had to ask." Serenity gave her a reproachful look in return, but then turned to Hotaru.

"What say you, Kingdom of Saturn," she questioned gently.

"Yea," she answered readily, though whisper soft. "If it means saving anyone else the hell I have endured, no price is too steep."

Serenity sat back then and released yet another bone weary sigh. Yet again, it would come down to her to decide.

"I, on behalf of Lunara and that of the Silver Alliance vote . . . yea." Rhea made a noise of disgust, sitting back in her chair heavily. Oceanus only sighed disapprovingly, with Amphitrite shaking her head, eyes tearing with sorrow. The others kept to themselves as Serenity calmly continued. "Four votes against, five votes in favor. Thus it has been decided. We will adjourn for now and convene again in three days time. You will each bring with you your eldest daughter to be chosen by the Earth Generals, their hands in marriage in exchange for Earth's support in the war against the Negaverse." Rhea continued to bluster and Serenity pinned her to the seat with a scathing look. "Failure to comply with the ruling of this council will forfeit all claims to its protection," she reminded them all sternly.

At that the meeting was closed. Everyone but Serenity and Hotaru immediately got to their feet and slowly filed out of the huge chamber, to the transporter where they would be sent back to their own homeworlds. Hotaru, who had been staying on Lunara ever since her parents' deaths, got to her feet more slowly and hesitated for a moment, then slowly exited as well.

Serenity was left alone in the vast chamber then, the silence like a tangent thing upon her narrow shoulders, weighing her down. Guilt burned heavily in her gut. She knew naught of this boy-king, Endymion. Only that he was a capable enough leader, firm but fair, and an exceptional warrior. Still, it was not nearly enough to allay her fears and doubts concerning what she had just decided. In exchange for the safety of all, she had just traded away her only daughter's freedom. The Queen released a shaky sigh, leaning over and placing her face in her hands, only now that she was alone allowing her hard mask to fall away. Her two ponytails slipped around her, the silvery strands cascading down like a cloak.

Princess Serenity, her daughter, was all that the Queen had left of her beloved husband Phoebus. She doted heavily upon the golden-haired child as a result, loved her more than anything else in this universe . . . and yet her duty to the Alliance still came first. She had just proven that irrevocably. Serenity now wondered sorrowfully how she was ever going to live with that choice.

"My Lady?" Serenity straightened and turned at the sound of someone's voice, then relaxed again upon seeing Luna standing there beside her. The Mauian changeling had been her companion for nearly all her life. More than her subject, Luna had become Serenity's closest friend and confidant, the two even marrying on the same day; Serenity to a Venusian prince and Luna to another Mauian, Artemis. They had nearly given birth on the same day as well; Serenity with her daughter of the same name, and then three days later Luna went into labor and gave life to a little girl of her own, Diana. It wasn't a hard decision at all for the Queen to name Luna's daughter as Princess Serenity's companion, and much like their mothers, the two had been inseparable ever since.

"Oh Luna," Serenity murmured mournfully now, "what in stars' name have I done?"

The violet-haired Mauian sighed and sat beside her Queen, her deep yellow and soft lavender robes swirling around her bare ankles and feet. She lifted a hand and covered Serenity's own. "That which had to be done," Luna assured firmly.

"But Serenity's freedom?" the Queen demanded, lifting her tired eyes to her companion. "My daughter's happiness? To trade her away to a complete stranger, against her will no less . . . ."

"The Princess will understand, in time, that sacrifices must sometimes be made for the greater good," Luna admonished gently, "just as you have proven here today." The Queen sighed at that and nodded, though her expression looked no less haunted.

"I pray that with time she might find it in her heart to forgive me for what I am about to make her do because, stars know, she will not understand."

"I think the Princess understands far more than most give her credit for," Luna insisted cagily. "Give her a chance, Serenity. I think your daughter just might surprise you."

The Queen paused for a moment more, then suddenly gained her feet. "Have the preparations made, Luna," she announced, her voice strong once more, her expression again somber and devoid of emotion. The grieving mother had been set aside and the Praetorian Queen was once again in command. She led the way out of the council chamber, head held proudly and gait swift, full of purpose. "Double the guard, spare all that you can from the front lines for the Earthlings' arrival. I want no chances taken. There are bound to be fights breaking out, and the fewer that come to bloodshed the better. Have a ball arranged, to commemorate the occasion. Spare no expense."

Serenity continued to rattle off a list of things that needed to be done until the two women came to the corridor that would lead to her daughter's room. Luna took the hint and bowed before turning around and going back the way she'd come, to begin on her listed duties. The Queen hesitated a moment longer, building her resolve, then finally swept down the corridor and gently opened the single door.

Laughter met her ears, the sheer exuberance of it melting away a fraction of her tension and causing the Queen to smile. Her child had that effect on many, it was said.

Princess Serenity sat in the center of her huge four-poster bed, her golden hair spilling loose about her slender frame, as it was currently being brushed out by Diana. Her winter-blue eyes twinkled with mirth as she called something playful to her companion before making a swipe at the frowning changeling with a pillow.

Diana tumbled right off the bed as a result, letting out a painful squawk. This sent the Princess into hysterics, rolling around on the bed and holding her belly, gasping for breath afterward. Indignant, the silver-haired Mauian shot to her feet and gave her Princess a glare, her red eyes flashing. Her long gray, cat-like tail twitched behind her with agitation.

"Ha, ha," she droned flatly. "Very funny, Sere. See if I ever do you any more favors." She tossed the brush she'd been holding onto the dresser. "You can very well brush your own rat's nest from now on."

"Rat's nest?" the Princess squeaked inelegantly. "I'll have you know that this," she grabbed a handful of the gold stuff for emphasis, "is the finest hair in the solar system."

"Finest horse hair maybe," Diana muttered, then barked with laughter and nimbly sidestepped the pillow that a vengeful Serenity threw. The Queen gently cleared her throat then, bringing both girls up short. Diana blanched and quickly bowed her head, folding her hands in front of herself respectfully, while the Princess beamed.

"Mother!" she cried, bounding off the bed and hurrying toward her. "Is the council finished already?" The Queen smiled.

"Yes, Sere." She paused for an uncomfortable moment, then lifted her gaze to the Mauian. "Diana, would you please excuse us. I would like to speak with my daughter alone for a moment."

Confusion and curiosity came upon both of them at that, but Diana obediently bowed again and then quickly left the chamber, closing the door behind her.

"What is it, mother?" the eighteen year old Serenity questioned, brow puckered. "What's wrong?"

"Come and sit with me, Sere," the Queen murmured, taking her smaller daughter by the shoulder and gently urging the girl back to the bed. Serenity did as she was asked, sitting in the center of the huge canopy bed again, watching her pensive mother curiously as the older woman recovered the brush and then sat behind her. The Queen began running the soft bristles through her daughter's long blonde tresses, stalling for time as she struggled to find a way to approach the subject.

"I have kept much of the horrors of the past two years from your eyes, Sere," she began slowly, "and I do think that it was for the best. You were too young then, to understand. But you are a woman now," she announced with a smile, though it faded again as she continued with, "and it is time you know the truth."

"I know that people are dying, mother," Serenity suddenly whispered, voice soft and sad. The Queen blinked, surprised, as her daughter continued. "I've talked with Hotaru and some of the soldiers. Horrible things have happened to good people, haven't they."

"Yes. Yes they have," the Queen agreed, silently marveling. Perhaps Luna was right. "But we . . . you have a chance to prevent that same horrific fate from befalling more good people."

Serenity turned to face her mother, blue eyes wide.

"I do? How?" The Queen hesitated again, hand tightening around the handle of the brush. She took a fortifying breath.

"The planet of Earth has been fighting this evil for much longer than we have, and they seem to have discovered a way to fight it effectively where we have not. I have petitioned them for aid, but they will not give it without a price paid." The younger Serenity scowled at that.

"Well that's kind of petty of them," she declared angrily, incensed. "Why would they put a price on saving innocent lives?" The Queen blanched.

"It is rather complicated, child," she hedged. "I shall just say that the King of Earth has his reasons, however poor in timing. He is not completely unjustified in his demands." The Princess mulled over that for a moment, then raised her eyes again and asked the question that Serenity was dreading.

"So . . . what is this price that they ask? Gold? What does it have to do with me?" The Queen bit her lip, then,

"In return for troops and assistance, the King of Earth has demanded that I . . . that I give him your hand in marriage." The Princess gasped, eyes rounding with shock. "As well as marry another planetary princess to each of his Warrior Kings, there-by giving them the Silver Alliance and a majority of the vote."

Serenity could only stare in mute astonishment, overcome. The Queen's guilt flared again and she sighed heavily, setting the brush aside.

"I know how awful this must seem to you, Sere. Believe me, if there were any other way around this I would have taken it. However I . . . I cannot risk the death of millions. And Lady Delphi has foreseen it, if we do not let the Earthlings have their way. All of us are doomed to darkness if we do not concede."

Serenity's blue eyes suddenly became glassy. "So you . . . you agreed to these terms, then," she warbled, and the Queen's expression tightened with pain and with resolve.

"I did."

Her daughter let out the air she'd been holding in a heavy rush. Then the girl quickly began hyperventilating, staring around in dazed shock as the tears that had gathered finally spilled loose down her cheeks. The Queen took hold of her and held her rigid body close, her eyes squeezing shut against her own tears.

"Oh Sere, I am sorry! So sorry. I wish there was another way, but there isn't! We must have the aid of the Earthlings or all is lost! I know it is hard, but sometimes a princess—a Queen—must put aside her personal desires for the greater good." Serenity's breathing had quieted down by now, and the Queen felt her heave a deep sigh. She gave her daughter a comforting squeeze. "I know you are strong, my angel. Stronger even than I." The Princess gave a disbelieving snort to that, to which the Queen chuckled. "You may not see it yet, but I do. I always have."

After another moment the Princess pulled away, wiping at her eyes, trying to hide the tears that had fallen. She tried desperately—valiantly—to put on a brave face now and the Queen's heart squeezed with pain and pride at the sight.

"Well then," Serenity suddenly murmured, tone off-hand, "what is his name, this man I am to marry?" The Queen forced a tight smile, ignoring the hurt in her own heart.

"They call him Endymion."