Disclaimer, for this chapter and the last:(bad Kaneta! Forgetting to put a disclaimer up in your hurry to post! Bad!) Don't own Link or Chichiri or Tasuki or Laguna or Julia or Rome or Poland or the way that it smells during the rain in the summer in Arizona. Probably never will, either.
Oh--this chapter is SHORT. Which, with my writing, only happens when the next one is going to be unnaturally long. Didn't quite make seven hundred words with this one, so shall I try for twenty-five hundred with the next? Since my average one is about twelve, that should kinda make up for it.
Hope you enjoy--and if you do, review! I'm still struggling with the belief that this fanfic probably isn't worth it, so tell me, folks--do you want me to scrap it and pull it down, or continue? I do know where it's going now, though...
COMPLICATIONS
Tasuki's angry eyes met Link's startled green ones. "What the fuck?" He kept his voice low, but his hands clenched of their own volition.
"Can't I go anywhere without someone tryin ta kill me?"
Link waved him to silence. "Listen." he whispered. Julia strode on below, oblivious to the plotting going on over her head.
"What about Her Majesty?" The single voice continued. Seeming to recieve an answer, it murmured "You are correct, as ever. For now, she is quite useful, in a puppetish way. But those others..."
Link's eyes were emerald fire, and from where he sat, Tasuki could feel his anger--and understand it clearly.
Honest battle was straighforward, if bloody. Skulking about in corners and whispering poison was foul in a way that a sword-bearing warrior was at odds to agree with.
As if hearing his thoughts, the speaker in the rafters--Where is he? Tasuki wondered. Not perched up there, certainly--perhaps there is a room we could find?--gave one last whisper.
"I'll see the others tonight, then, and see that they do not interfere."
Despite Link's sharp ears, there came nothing more, not even a lone footstep or rustle of drapes.
Tasuki ground his teeth in frustration. Link, catching his eye, nodded and without any warning, flung himself from the windowsill, ignoring the curtain completely.
Tasuki jerked in panic. "Li--" he bit off his own cry of astonishment, as he watched the falling elf--who to any of the courtiers would have appeared as a ripple of air, since he was behind the drapes still--landed on his feet, unharmed, without even a steadying step.
"Fuck, man." he called down in a whisper. "Warn me next time, awright? That kinda shit'll cause trouble..."
Ignoring the answering chuckle, he began the climb downwards, the remainder of his apple clenched in his teeth.
Chichiri's head snapped up from the tome he was examining. Who is so angry?
He concentrated for a moment, his single eye narrowing. Link...and Tasuki. Not unusual, but they are not angry with eachother, this time, and this goes far beyond simple irritation.
Frowning, he rose and strode from the room, intent upon finding them. They weren't emanating any fear, but, then, Tasuki never did if he was alone in a battle, and the monk had never felt even anxiety from the elf.
As Chichiri reached the solid library door, he stopped.
Not knowing why, he turned left, losing himself in the stacks and dark rows of stone shelves and pillars.
One of the Queens, a thousand years ago, had had a passion for knowledge, and her influence could still be felt in the pecuiliar fervor that the librarians, as one, exhibited.
Unlike any other royal library Chichiri had ever found, this one was spotlessly clean; no dust, no mice, no moths, the tables well oiled and the papers, scrolls and books carefully kept. That long-ago Queen had even put a ward on the room that prevented the air from getting damp--no mold or rot ever touched the parchment.
And the faint scent of water, in this dry room, did not belong.
As he went deeper and deeper into the room, he noticed that the ceiling also became higher, vanishing into shadow. The warm lamps that hung in their tight shields flickered and were hidden behind him, and a faint breeze--again, carrying a subtle odor--stirred in his hair.
He left the last of the light behind, following the soft movement of the air and the familiar, clean smell of fresh water. Funny, how this still made him think of Hikou, and the night that he lost everything he loved to the flood, but now, the pain was a quiet thing. Hikou had forgiven him, Kouran was waiting for him, and that made everything all right.
A little wondering sound woke him from his thoughts, and he stopped dead.
A child--a girl, no more than five years old, small and wide-eyed, sat crosslegged before him. Dim light, which faded when stared at and came from no visible source, hovered over the stone where she sat.
"What are you doing here?" She asked.