Fractured
23rd August 2008
Series: The Seer
Summary: Prince Amko does not enjoy being told what to do. Shizuka does his best to maintain his master's safety, and Watanuki suffers.
Warnings: Cruelty and plotting, magic and spell-casting. This is the last chapter of The Prince and the Palace arc; new arc in about six to eight weeks. Many thanks and big hugs to Anyjen and profiterole for the alpha and beta reading.
Author Notes: Because my flight out to HK is tomorrow early morning and I'm flying out from there to London just after lunch, I won't be back online until about Sunday midday (London time) and will therefore miss my deadlines. So I'm posting now. Also, I've been so late with posting the last few chapters, this one should be early, ne? Also, I think I'll finally be able to reply to reviews for this chapter so if you had questions before, please ask again –I will answer. Thanks so much to those who continued to support this story even without my replies. I really love you guys.

Shizuka roused instantly from sleep at the shiver of warning across his skin from the charm he'd put on the rafter above their suite. The memory of Prince Amko's cruelty rushed him and he found his spirit-power lashing at his control, begging to be spent, wanting to be used to protect.

He growled a little in his throat as he opened his eyes, letting the power go, let his inner barriers falter and in a flash had departed from the bed and Watanuki's side, seeming almost to reappear above the ceiling to stand on one of the beams… right in the face of the lead soldier there. The man leapt back, completely startled.

"There will be no warning," Shizuka growled, eyes narrowing and hands flexing. It was easy to see, this man's face bare and uncovered, when the soldier paled. The monk turned his gaze toward the group at large, four men in total, eyes glaring dangerously, jaw tense, and nastily warned them, "My master is not awake to tell me to stop."

They hesitated… and that was all Shizuka needed. Suddenly clutching four slips of limp paper between his index and middle fingers, the monk spat a spell-word. The papers unfurled, characters flowing up over them as the slips waved into a stiff posture. Moving quickly and despite each soldier's instinctive retreat under his whirlwind-fast assault, he slapped a paper-spell over each of the men's foreheads. Instantly, they froze, eyes rolling in shock to him and each other.

They couldn't move.

Darkly satisfied, Shizuka put his hands together in a series of seals, muttering the appropriate spells. It took a sizeable chunk of his energy to do it but he spelled the men, mere bodies to him now, to return the way they came via the halls below where it would be easier to move. They moved stiffly, slowly, glaring all the while and making him wish he could have spelled them to walk off a cliff.

He dropped silently back down into the suite, the idiot soldiers following him, and he opened the door for them. The guards stationed outside gaped in shock, asking the soldiers questions in their tongue but received no replies. When the guards turned to look at him, he nastily bared his teeth and watched them flinch.

Slamming the door shut, he marched into his and Watanuki's room and began to pack their belongings, his master eventually roused by his activity.

"Doumeki?" Watanuki rubbed his eyes. "Why are you packing?"

"We are leaving." Shizuka could hardly bear to look at his master. What if Watanuki did not get paid for all they had done? Would his master blame him? He worked faster. "Your morning tea will have to wait until we can get back aboard the Dragon."

Watanuki wasn't quite awake enough to argue, waking slowly and looking dazed from lack of sleep.

Then the monk realised he felt a pull across his skin from the spells he had set only two days ago –those spelled for their names. Coming to a standstill, he curled a hand seal and focused on it. He reached for the charm which had sensed it and tried to pick apart the emotions in the air --hostility, anger, humiliation, resentment, and ill-intent… all from a familiar aura.

Amko.

"That bastard," Shizuka muttered. "He's plotting against us."

"What?" Watanuki got to his feet, marched over and sharply poked him on his arm, demanding "Make sense! What are you on about?"

"Prince Amko is angry at us for destroying the peace of his palace," Shizuka quickly relayed, leaving out the more repulsive aspects of the truth. "He was upset with me last night. I can't say I was very polite, either. We had best leave." Watanuki blinked up at him, looking blank and surprised. Taking advantage of the miraculous silence because no way was that going to last, "It's just under two hours away from dawn now so we can catch the morning tide if we hurry." Shizuka quickly packed up the last of their things then turned to rouse Sorata and Jason, leaving his master looking a little dazed behind him—

"That did not explain things to me!" Now if he could just get out the door— "Doumeki, wait!" The monk instinctively paused at the command and Watanuki frowned at him, puzzled and uncertain, "What happened last night? I thought you were here with me the whole time."

Watanuki's eyes held an unexpected soft, vulnerable quality and something clenched in Shizuka's chest, worry that he had frightened his master. "I left to speak to the prince," he admitted quietly. "His views on us have changed. I'm sure he will be polite to you but I think we should make a quick escape."

"Escape?" Shaking his head, Watanuki frowned, "I don't understand…"

"Trust me," Shizuka said quietly. He knew that his master would know he was saying that from the bottom of his heart. Hell, he wondered how long it would take before Watanuki realised the monk could no longer lie to him. Half truths, yes, but the soul-sharing would ultimately tip the noble off to anything he said that was incorrect –no one had control over that part of this kind of connection they now shared.

But then Watanuki nodded, wide-eyed and startled. He seemed a little upset but he turned and began to dress… yet a distant tightening of emotion and confusion in Shizuka's chest warned him things were not so simple. Still, he was startlingly flattered that his master seemed to trust him so much even without understanding and being able to use their bond, so it took a moment for Shizuka to get going, marvelling momentarily at this relationship he and his master shared.

Watanuki glared and he finally got going.

He went to Sorata and quickly explained his apprehension; not the entire situation but enough to alert the priest of the imperativeness of their immediate departure.

"I'll send a wind message," Sorata decided. "Tactically, we need people and I want at least six of my men here. We aren't safe enough for my liking."

"I'll leave that in your hands," Shizuka nodded. "I will protect my master."

Sorata seemed to understand the implications, nodding and shooing the monk away, a small exasperated little curve at his lips.

"Jason," Shizuka called, reaching with a hand to shake the Englishman's shoulder.

"Hmm?" The blond groggily rolled up onto his elbows, lying on his stomach, naked from the waist up. Shizuka got a good look at an enormous tattoo covering the left side of his back from shoulder blade to hip, a beautiful and curving sketch of intricate whorls and loops.

Magical script.

Shizuka glared at them until Jason rolled over. "Doumeki-san? What's going on?"

"That Prince wants Watanuki," the monk replied quickly, unable to keep the acidity out of his words. "He tried to subdue me last night and admitted he wanted to bed Watanuki with or without consent. His temper has gotten the better of him."

Jason blinked in surprise a moment before sitting up and rubbing at his face. "I know he's interested in my cousin but that's…"

"He made his very ill intentions clear." Shizuka narrowed his eyes in a glare at the absent source of his irritation. "Watanuki is not safe here. We must leave. Sorata is calling for guards."

Nodding, Jason quickly got up and began throwing his things in to his trunk. "I'll hurry."

Sorata's soldiers made it through into their suite past the palace guards, slipping in via their garden where Jason had gone to wait and act as a presence-beacon for the soldiers to find them. The soldiers were dressed in stealthy attire similar to that which Shizuka himself wore, ready to face combat. One of them stepped forward and whipped off the uniform mask—

"Arashi!" Sorata exclaimed, happy and relieved. He embraced his wife quickly.

When they parted, Arashi nodded to Watanuki, Jason and Shizuka, looking troubled, "From yesterday afternoon we could sense the rising ill-intent all the way back to the ship. We were never far from you but that distance and the antognism to reach so far…"

"There is a lot happening and there's no time to get the full story out of this guy," the priest jerked his thumb at Shizuka, "but when the monk says go, we go."

She shook her head at them, "Of course we will. I trust your judgement, Doumeki-san. The ship is ready to pull anchor at this moment."

The soldiers had collected the luggage between them and prepared to leave by the time Amko and his guards came to their suite. They could hear the muted clanking of lightweight armour, the squeaking of leather and quiet footfalls –the sounds of coming trouble.

Shizuka raised his hand to give the order to go just as Watanuki reached to stay him, shaking his head. For a long moment, they looked at each other, the monk too aware of his master's stubborn and sometimes belligerent hard-headedness, the risk that Watanuki might be put in danger, and the possibility that he might not be able to keep his master safe amidst such dangerous people—

No. Watanuki would be safe if he had to—

A sharp and bright glint in Watanuki's eyes had him lowering his hand. It was time to invest some trust in his master in return. The door opened, guards rushing in but overpowering no one. The forces were at stalemate and the prince's aura flared at the sight of so many soldiers in his palace without his knowledge. He did not look pleased with the odds.

Watanuki stepped quickly forward, his polite smile in place, bowing respectfully, "Good morning, honoured prince." He straightened, "It appears there is an extremely urgent matter to which I must attend and I am to leave this morning with all due haste."

Amko's gaze slid over to Shizuka before he smiled himself, the expression no longer teasing or warm but very cold and quite dangerous. "Must you return absolutely now?" He gestured expansively, "I have yet to claim my duel."

Shizuka glared at him.

"You must pardon me, honoured prince," Watanuki said quickly, "But I must retract that acceptance for there is no time for it now. If it pleases you, I would claim my payment for unravelling your problem and be on my way."

The situation was absurd in some respects. The noble and royal politely faced each other with each a half dozen soldiers behind them. The gracious speech they used held the weight of tension in it –in Watanuki particularly who seemed all too aware of whose turf on which he and his crew stood.

If talks degenerated, there could be bloodshed.

"Master," Shizuka spoke up calmly, setting his temper aside. "Perhaps we could eschew the usual formalities and simply conduct the duel as it was intended from the start, a match for the prince to enjoy." He eyed Amko, "the necessity of dressing it up and gathering the audience can be overlooked." He bowed to his master briefly, "After the hospitality which the prince has shown us, perhaps we owe him this."

Amko looked smug and eager. Stupid, Shizuka thought, didn't the man know he would be no match, whether or not the prince realised he was a fully-trained monk of his Order? How often had he crept along inside the palace undetected and unrivalled?

Watanuki looked nervous however and Shizuka could not resist; He will only continue to delay us. The noble startled slightly when Shizuka 'spoke' to him, tensing up briefly. If we give him this now, we can have the duel as the men get our possessions and Jason to the ship then return to secure our safe escort back. He pulled out his best ticket to getting his master to agree with this plan, Jason is not safe here.

Instantly nodding, Watanuki turned to Sorata and addressed him in Japanese, "Send half of the men back to drop off my cousin and the luggage, and they should return as soon as possible. The other half should remain to escort me." He nodded at Amko and Shizuka, adding in English, "Let the duel be arranged post-haste."

"Kim…" Jason breathed, shocked.

"My lord!" Sorata exclaimed, protesting, Arashi giving a soft gasp of worry. Their soldiers shifted restlessly, obviously also disagreeing with this decision.

"Not now," Watanuki berated in Japanese. He spared a gentle look for his men and a particularly apologetic expression for his cousin before switching again to politely address the Prince, "If it pleases you, my lord, let us conduct this duel. I am sad to leave so soon and I regret this cannot be negotiated but let us arrange matters with all haste."

"Of course," Amko purred, bowing. Triumph lit his eyes as he led his men from the room.

"Go!" Shizuka hissed at Sorata's soldiers. "Get out before the palace soldiers are deployed to keep you in, and return before they think to expect you from outside."

They went, swiftly and quickly, the strongest of them carrying a sad and worried Jason on his back as they used their spirit force to boost their movements to an unnatural strength and speed. Arashi frowned at him but she nodded agreement; she and two others remained as escort.

Watanuki stood pale and wide eyed close by Shizuka's side and the monk wished he could just pick his master up and return with the men to the ship. The sails would fill and they could be gone from this place and never return. There would no duel and no risks. There might be no honour in retreating so cowardly but Life was too precious a gift to waste with so unsavoury and unscrupulous a man as Prince Amko.

Instead he gripped his master's hand in his own and reiterated quietly, "Trust me."

Sweetly, Watanuki silently nodded, smaller and slimmer hand lightly squeezing back.

Shizuka had strapped on his lightweight armour, the shin guards, arm guards, and the cropped chest plate with the single shoulder-bar over his left arm. In his other hand he clutched his katana, standing still and quiet as Watanuki blinked up at him.

"Excuse me?" Watanuki whispered, wide eyed and startled. A few metres behind the noble, Sorata and Arashi as well as four soldiers stood waiting… and luckily out of ear shot. The group looked tense and restless, watching the last of the preparations underway for the duel.

"A favour," the monk repeated. "When a soldier is sent into a duel, his master gives him a favour as a good luck charm." His master wasn't going to overlook the tradition was he? Shizuka had never duelled for a master before but he felt stepping into the fight without a blessing would make him feel incomplete.

"That's…" Watanuki blushed, the odd dusting of colour over his cheekbones and nose. "In England there is something similar but it…" he trailed off, looking very uncomfortable and his gaze would not meet the monk's eyes.

"Then there should be no problem," Shizuka deduced patiently, studying this combo of colour on his master's face he had only seen once before. He waited.

Finally after fidgeting and more shifty-nervous eyed looks, Watanuki reached up and untied his hair ribbon, his hair blowing loose in the wind. Looking awkward and out of sorts he looked up, and Shizuka got a lovely view of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose in that shade of pale pink the monk admired on his master. Slowly, as though uncertain of what he was doing, Watanuki reached toward the monk with it.

When he suddenly stilled, Shizuka wondered if Watanuki had changed his mind… but then the noble gritted his teeth and suddenly glared up into the monk's face. Eyes snapping blue sparks he quickly tied the ribbon in place on the armour shoulder-bar's strap… right over Shizuka's heart.

Put there consciously or unconsciously, the monk found he liked it. He belonged.

"You better not let yourself get even one scratch, you hear me?" Watanuki ranted. More colour flooded his face, "I am not going to allow you back on my ship less than perfectly whole, you mark my words!" Waving an arm in the air, the other pointing emphatically up at the monk, "You think I won't leave your sorry ass behind? Watch me! Don't think I won't!"

"Yes, master." Hefting his sword, he allowed one corner of his lips to curl upward then abruptly turned away to the duelling field.

"I told you to stop calling me that," came a muted, dark mutter from behind him and he could not resist when the other corner of his lips hiked upward too.

The circular field was marked with a white chalk boundary, flags set up at regular intervals at eye-height to keep the contestants within aware at all times of where the boundaries lay. But Shizuka didn't think he'd use up as much space as the field provided. Far across this field, directly across the marked area stood the Prince with his entourage and guards, eyes blazing with obvious annoyance at the intimacy Shizuka and his master had just displayed. The Prince seemed particularly irked by the ribbon fluttering on the monk's armour.

Ignoring the demented royal, Shizuka studied the rest of the area. To witness the event, three Court members were seated in the royal viewing box to Shizuka's right, to the West. One looked startlingly like Amko, if older and more refined. Shizuka noticed this man had that blooded aura to him as well… but it was laced with regret and sadness. This man regretted the blood which stained him; unwittingly him earning the monk's respect.

Knowing he was already at a disadvantage by fighting on Amko's home ground and being unaware of the rules of this country's duelling, there would be no outright going for the kill. What if Watanuki were to be held accountable for his actions? He could not risk it. Nevertheless, he carefully gathered his power again, forced open his Centre and gathered it close to him, to his skin. Not too much, not this time --he didn't want it visible to the human eye.

A herald began the announcements, first in native tongue then in English. Fight to first blood, no rules, death acceptable if inflicted in self-defence –not if intentional or if the opponent is down—and use of magic would be allowed. It sounded simple enough.

A plan formed.

When the herald asked if Shizuka was ready, he pointedly sheathed his sword before nodding. Amko gritted his teeth at the insult that the monk didn't need it to defeat him.

"Go!"

Amko launched forward unnaturally quickly, sword high, sparkling with the effects of his aura on it and the intent to kill. Shizuka remained still, heavy lidded eyes watching. When Amko yelled his battle-cry, sword swooping down over the monk's head—

Shizuka vanished.

The startled gasps and cries from the royal box and surrounding area did not change the fact that the space where the monk had been standing a half second before, where the third prince's sword just slashed, was now empty.

"Over here," Shizuka called blandly.

Amko spun to face him… where he stood on the far end of the field behind the prince. He snarled, "You will die!" He charged.

"This is only a fight to first blood," the monk calmly pointed out. When Amko swung his sword again, he was gone, reappearing back at the centre of the duelling field.

The prince snarled with frustration. "Do not run from me!" He charged again.

Shizuka thought the man ought to have been properly humiliated by now but the former politeness and charm was no where to be seen. Was something wrong with him, perhaps? Something which he and his master had missed? He pushed the thought to Watanuki. Maybe his master would sense something he did not— Amko swung his sword from far out of range, making the monk blink. A split-second later Shizuka swore and moved, avoiding the nearly invisible blast which the prince had fired, a flying raw slash of wild magic full of killing intent. He frowned.

His aura is becoming… even more bloody, Watanuki whispered in his head. He isn't killing you, but it looks like he's killing something. Or someone. And it's affecting him; whatever it is, that is what is shaking him up now. The deaths weighing him down are becoming heavier… it's almost crushing him.

Understanding washed over Shizuka, bitter anger staining his tongue. He drew his sword and stepped up to meet Amko's next attack, the crash of steel against steel ringing suddenly loudly. "I know," he told the blazing-eyed royal between their braced crossed swords. "You ordered their executions anyway. Right now, as we fight."

"Damn right I did," Amko snarled, pulling back and slashing again. Shizuka parried quickly, stepping out of range. The prince followed with a quick thrust of his sword, the tip making for the monk's face but Shizuka easily angled his head out of the way. Panting, "Whatever it is you do not want, I will make sure happens."

How petty, Shizuka thought, blocking another swing. He could block until the man tired himself out and this all ended, his spirit force greatly outstripped the admittedly skilled prince; in the end it supplied his stamina with enough energy to outlast anyone less skilled and powerful than he. It was too late to get Watanuki away now anyway. Remaining quiet, he blocked the next attack.

"I have been communicating with Watanuki since I met him in London," Amko snarled, his eyes wide and swinging his sword again; blocked again. "Do you think I learned my flowery English speech here?" Slash, cut and thrust --all missed. "I've pursued him relentlessly, accepted it when he boarded that blasted ship of his and sailed away. But not for some guardsman to have him!"

Silly jealousy? How cliché. Shizuka almost rolled his eyes. This man knew nothing of his Order; where there could be no such union between master and monk. Look what had happened with his mother. Such involvements did not bear contemplation much as he appreciated how well his master treated him, how grateful he was for the special regard and kindnesses—

"He is not mine," the monk muttered, pushing the thoughts away. But he was certain it would mean nothing to the jealous prince. "Yet I would not let you have him anyway. Your petty attempts at riling me only hurt him and you don't even care." Growling, genuine anger rising, "And you intend to hurt him with your perverse pleasures. I will not allow that."

"How dare you presume…!" The effort of the attacks doubled but Shizuka kept pace, the ringing of metal and balance of skill a familiar music. "I am a most skilled lover; I would have made him enjoy it!"

This time Shizuka really did roll his eyes. "You are the one to presume." He saw an opening and slashed his sword at the base of Amko's sword, near the sword-guard. The blow was odd-angled but strong and it knocked the blade from the prince's hand. In the next breath, he had his sword at Amko's throat and the Prince froze. "You know nothing of what he would enjoy. You seek only to fulfil your own pleasures without regard for another's wants and happiness. You are the Poison here, the one who sucks the life from the weak." He narrowed his eyes at the royal, "I have no patience for people like you." But still, he very gently slid the blade along the prince's throat, drawing a tiny trickle of blood.

"First blood!" cried the herald.

It was over.

When Watanuki gasped, Shizuka would have thought it was with surprised relief… but the tone was wrong. He quickly stepped away and turned to his master—

Stricken, shocked and slumped on his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks, Watanuki stared at something which only he could see. Defeat and disbelief darkened his wet blue eyes, his arms limply hung at his side.

In an instant, the monk was by his master's side, heart beating suddenly too hard, worry crashing over him. "I am sorry," he lamented softly though his master could not hear him. He crouched behind Watanuki and pulled the desolate young noble into his arms. Shizuka had never felt so helpless in his life. Through the rocks in his throat, "I tried to prevent you from seeing this."

Watanuki wept, weakly reaching out to whomever it was he saw and whispered, "I'm sorry. I didn't know!" Shizuka felt like he failed. Watanuki seemed to listen to something then quickly shook his head, trembled, "I didn't know… I didn't know…!"

"What's happening to him?"

Shizuka looked up to see the man he had noticed earlier, the one who bore a striking resemblance to Prince Amko. He hesitated but replied, "The women charged with the Lady Gbemi's death have been executed." He watched the man's face tense with annoyed displeasure. "My master can see their ghosts."

"They must blame him for their misfortune, then." Horrified understanding dawned on the man's face when Watanuki repeated his pleas and his apologies. Watching the struggling noble he whispered, "I am sorry, my lord." To Shizuka, "It would be best if you take him away from here. I think I understand; I presume you kept the intention of execution from him and you were responsible for the hurry this morning?"

Shizuka gave a quick nod and cradled his master close, getting easily to his feet, upset to notice Watanuki slipping into a wretched kind of unconsciousness.

"You are a commendable guardsman," the man complimented, watching him closely. "And my idiot brother was not supposed to have had the women executed, given how your master argued for their innocence last night."

Shizuka had not been inside the Courts during that part of the evening. But that sounded like his master, defending killers because they had held no true ill-intent. The noble didn't have to know they would be sentenced to death to know their names should be fought for—

Wait, wait. Brother?

"Ahh, I am so rude," the man spoke again, catching Shizuka's uneasy glance. "My name is Abasi, the First Prince."

"Crown prince," Shizuka nodded, wondering what this man would say now. "Pardon my rudeness and lack of address." He pulled his master closer, protectively, to his chest as he eyed this new royal. Any relative of Amko's deserved a reserved regard.

"Nonsense," Abasi declared, waving the matter aside and motioning reassuringly. He obviously understood that his relation to Amko put Shizuka on guard. "Considering all that has transpired. And I mean you no ill will. Please." He nodded, expression severe, and reached to tuck an ornate sheathed dagger into Shizuka's armour. "Take that as a gift and go. Get your master to safety and take my apologies with you."

"Thank you." He gave a quick bow, his customary blessing slipping from his lips, "May the fates guide your path."

Abasi's eyes widened in surprised recognition and he murmured, "You are a monk of the Shirasagi."

Shizuka did not bother to acknowledge the truth. He nodded to Sorata, the priest gestured to his men and they vanished, making swiftly for the Dancing Dragon.

For home.

Fin.