Chapter Ten: After the Coup
Tarja patiently waited until the room was fairly well cleared before coming down from her perch; at once, every man near ran to her kneeling as if she were the empress then holding a hand up to offer as an escort to wherever she chose. She realized slowly that she had nowhere to go, or no one to see; no one in the court had stayed to guide her. Still the same old story- still the Gai-jin, she wryly thought. She recognized Jingo's wizened face kneeling three men away and she quietly asked him if there was any room where she could at least clean herself, as she was splashed with blood and she was soaked with sweat and dirt from the exertion of two duels back to back. In a blink of an eye she went from invisible to the center of their world. Jingo laid a whiplash of command across their backs; one got up and ran, asking her to wait a few minutes. Proudly, Jingo began snapping orders to find water, towels and a doctor to examine her for injury, addressing her as the Lady Tarja-san noh-Koe Ishii, indicating her status as the voice of Ishii, then anxiously asking if she needed immediate treatment for any wounds. He then gently offered his arm to escort her to a regular seat near a window. He was enthralled that she held his glance: "Oh Lady…I am so unworthy of what you have done…but I am glad it was done. Please allow a fool to serve you for a little while?" Battle-weary, she nodded and laid a hand on his cheek. "Yes. Why not a fool? As you see, even the wise men have deserted me. " Then shyly: " I missed you." The young duke of the Asana province caught her hand to his forehead, knelt at her feet and then directed everyone to his bidding as he quietly looked up with a glint of total respect in his eyes.
The other man returned with Nakita, the bath house maid and she nearly burst with pride at seeing Tarja alive and being chosen to help her. After fiercely grabbing Tarja's hands and kissing them, she took charge of Tarja, and had her installed in a guestroom meant for visiting dignitaries, where she lorded it over a full complement of servants, bullying them into a multitude of tasks and began to transform Tarja into a woman fit to be the voice of the emperor. She had the wisdom to install two guards at the door, turning away anyone, except the temple masters and trusted servants as he knew her mistress' mood; she was secretly anticipating a very exciting, romantic evening for Tarja, who was simply now a legend in the making before her eyes. There was just no way Tidus was going to be able to keep his feelings hidden any longer after this! She had gleefully overheard the temple masters instructing her lady on the protocol of handing over the imperial katana to Akiro and the invitation to wait upon the emperor's wish to display his 'great pleasure at the servant of the empire' during the evening and it was hinted the reward would be great.
After they left, Tarja looked in the mirror, her eyes blank, feeling more than ever she was fading away into nothing, like a ghost. Her purpose of weapon had been fulfilled; she knew Akiro would come to claim his throne, and Tidus would be there also; she had been told his arm had been treated by a surgeon and it would heal well, provided he rested it. His manservant did his best to sidestep Nakita, but she firmly blocked his attempts to see how the lady did, but not before she teasingly caressed his charming face and advised him she was sure the lady was eager to see her guardian partner and friend, as there was much to say that should be said, but NOT in full view of the court. She suggested he simply arrange an assignation for the pair and suggested the temple in the morning would be perfect. Relieved from the burden of politely begging for her time tonight, he kissed Nakita's fingertips and departed.
Tarja debated for an entire 15 seconds between wearing a kimono as a lady of court or her usual hakama, but decided on the hakama. Dressing for a romantic assignation it was not, despite Nakita's broadest hints that every single man at court would be at her feet tonight, especially one who had reason to be grateful he was alive. Besides, she dully thought, who was there to wear a kimono for? Not Tidus. He would return and serve the court of his father. He had been brave, clever and noble, despite his misjudgement about her. He had not asked that she be killed, but only sent away from the guard. She could ask no more. She told herself she wanted no more and had another servant run a pack and saddleroll down to the stables, figuring on quietly taking a ride the next morning and keep riding until the red sands of the Eid were under the horse's hooves.
But feathers of memory kept floating up to tickle against her will; the shaking caress of her face, the tender grasp of his hand, and his mouth forming the words 'my love' refused to disperse, no matter how hard she tried to blow them away.
Emotionally overwrought and now confused, she allowed herself to lay her head on Nakita's shoulder and weep for an entire 10 minutes in the bath house when she was finally left alone to prepare for the next series of events; Nakita held her, thinking: Ah, my little eagle has been through so much! She needs the loving touch of a man to heal her from all this war-play. I hope Tidus says something tonight to her; he'd better find a way to offer himself, or I'll make sure he never is allowed in my bath house again, ever!
After the tears were spent, Tarja let her new personal maid fuss and preen her for the imperial event to her heart's content. Nakita thought white suitable, sending the servants to the second level of the palace twice, sending them hunting for the finest silks and subtlest brocades in the imperial wardrobes; a delicious white on white silk Gi embroidered with eagles was carefully wrapped over the sheerest silk under gi, a sending subtly sexual signal that a woman resided with the man's dress. The hakama was a slightly darker shade of pale, with the imperial sigil embroidered on the hem of the left leg; an Obi sewn with a random sprinkle of cut brillants, flashing like tiny diamonds drew the eye to a tiny waist and the perfect curve of breasts under the gi; Palest grey sharkskin thonged sandals completed the vision of pure beauty showing off a dainty foot, the nails burnished in a pearl lacquer. Brushing her hair until it shone, Nakita added delicate touches of ornamentation to further remind the court Tarja was a lady , gently gathering the mass loosely back with a tie of tasseled silk and a single white lotus was left to peep out under an ear, its scent perceptible from 3 feet away.
The ceremony went perfectly; she looked never more like a matchless beauty; the court all bowed like she was the empress; the ceremony of handing sigil and throne over to the true lord was a shining moment of memory, but it was like she was seeing it from a distance; she felt totally disconnected from the sea of people lining the hall, the hands that kept touching her like a holy statue; she was pinned in her own crucifixion against the gaze of a thousand eyes looking at her like she was the peerless goddess Inanna. It was exquisite pain, a pain that kept slowly building as the evening unfolded until she was ready to choke.
The color of pain was the blue of Tidus' eyes for Tarja; Tidus looked up from his regal bow, fixing his gaze on her face in silence; it was too much to see him like this, a man who gave his all to defeating his enemy, only to be spitted by his own dual faced guard and lover, no, ex-lover, then bowing to her like he was a mere consort instead of the imperial son of Akiro, the captain of the shield guard. There was no trace of the haughtiness of his former self in his face or bearing; she didn't realize how much of that unconscious pride of self she had equated with his personality; now he seemed a flat image, a picture, a…puppet. He kept gazing at her in such a direct fashion, never moving a muscle from his kneeling position until she herself lifted a hand in the signal to disperse...like he was…waiting for something. She began to think maybe she should have killed him, he'd have died a hero, instead of a living imperial puppet she had just made him into. But despite the distance between them at the high table, she felt his gaze on her the entire time; every time she looked up or away from the lower floor of the court celebrating the victory against the attempted coup, that steady cobalt gaze was upon her.
Of course, some the aristocrats had noticed it andsmiled to themselves, as they saw a far different view of the pair; Tidus was waiting for the lady to formally declare herself; she had proven herself in battle, she had not only cleverly spared his life, she had just handed him the imperial seat on the tip of her blade, a mark of the highest favor! It was only right he should wait upon her word; of course he wanted her, in fact they were sure he was nearly faint from the desire of her; it was a romantic legend in the making.
Others had a different view; they recalled the bruised face, and the harsh way Tidus had thrown her out of the guard over an imagined tryst with a temple bar consort, giving her no chance to defend her honor or name; it did not matter she was not Spirean; she was a woman, and damned fine one; the imperial guard had done her wrong there, they had entirely underestimated her potential and knew that Tidus was feeling a fool for trying to make a woman fit to be the sword of his empire into a mere guard of the shield. She had been insulted in the worst way, deserved better and was right to ignore his gaze, no matter how deep the desire in those bluer than blue eyes.
And so the whispered battles went behind feathered fans and jade goblets; but as the truth always is, it was something of both and neither.
The trouble with Tarja was that she had never really envisioned herself living through the duel and the unreality of being alive began to bend her mind somewhat; she slipped back into the waking dream state that had overtaken her the past 3 days, that queer feeling like she had already died; it was only a ghost attending the fine celebration laid before her in glittering gold and in her post-battle stressed mind she began to half believe she really was a walking dead woman.
She choked on the food she was eating, and carefully setting her chopsticks down, she rose; everyone was laughing, chattering happily, toasting each other with jade cups of wine; no one was toasting with her or even talking with her; she walked into the center of the dining room and stood there; no one looked at her, or spoke to her. She something break inside her mind: It is as if I were already dead…She turned back to look at the scene on the dais and saw Akiro happily touching Tidus' arm and the steady gaze warming in the sunshine of Akiro's proud smile. Akiro's gaze swept the room; it did not change expression at seeing her there in the middle of the room , a ghost in a white hakama. She was invisible. Tarja Romanova was no more. The transformation was complete.
She drifted to the doors, the noise washing over her in waves; her hand pushed the gold netted curtains aside , reached for the handle and turned; the door swung open, beckoning her into welcome darkness.
Akiro's voice cut through the soft waves of noise like a blade dipped in icewater : "Where are you going , weapon? I have not dismissed you from me yet!"
I was almost free – Sighing, she gave him the last courtesy of an answer. She turned, her empty face and dead eyes gazing past his shoulder at the wall: "I thought you had no further use for me, emperor."
A cold fear washed over Akiro as he recognized the look; she was lost in her mind, adrift with no one to anchor to and bring her back. She had played the part of a double agent, the strain of the role with the back to back duels had made her lose her sense of what was real. Desperate, he gambled with firmness and strength to reel her back in.
"Oh? Court, do you hear her? She thinks she will be propped up in the corner like a broken blade that has rusted or hung on the wall only to be brought out in a moment of show on parade days!"
"No, you are NOT excused tonight, nor any other night, mistress weapon. I need my sword just as much as I need my shield here!" Nodding and placing his hand on Tidus' knee, he playfully commanded: " If you try to leave without being given leave to be excused, I will consider it an act of treason and have you tethered by my shield's side, never to leave and see the open air again! Do you understand me?"
Curiously, she shrugged, then continued to step through the door, until the guard outside blocked her exit. She halted, her back to the emperor in a small insult, as if he had no say in the matter. Akiro tried praise to hook her interest.
"This a curious state of affairs – here, I have a weapon who has performed with the highest degree of loyalty, like that of mine own blood, delivered mine son from death, upends mine greatest enemy's plans with such cunning and deception we have not seen since Lady Seymour's day and delivers the head of mine enemy in a single fight without dying herself! Do you think me blind? I am the emperor, I see all, even what is beneath my very nose!"
"And my nose smells something is amiss; are you grieved because there is no more enemy to fight? Trust me little eagle, there are more, I will give you all you wish! ….Mistress weapon, now tell me something else: You said quite clearly today Yu-Shinta was your second greatest enemy…tell me , mistress weapon, where is the first enemy?" …After battling Yu-Shinta, who on the seven continents could be your worst enemy, woman? Talk to me, yes, be distracted for a while; maybe I can bring her back in off the battlefield in her mind…
"It's...it's a long story, sire."
"We have all night! Come, regale me with the tale of your greatest enemy, lady! Sit! Pour wine to keep her throat wetted! I am most interested!" He turned and glanced at Seymour whom caught the concerned look behind the forced banter and carefully moved closer. Seymour subtly hand signaled the guard, and they politely herded Tarja back to the throne dais and was seated a mere six feet away from the throne, then a cup of wine was placed before her.
"So, tell me your tale – but name your greatest enemy!"
Tarja sighed, looked at the floor and then up again with the same empty face and hunted eyes. She looked straight into his dark eyes and shockingly announced: " Tidus Tanaka noh-Ishii."
"Oh? And what war waged between you two? "
"A battle of love, sire. But in fighting this battle, I have lost the war. I was too good at what I did, I have made him feel less than the man he truly is. I fought the battle of earning his trust with all my heart and yet, he sent me away." Her voice rose in a trembling note, one that was instantly recognized by many ears; they too, had given their best efforts to serve the empire and understood how deeply it hurt to be sent away from all that you knew, all that you loved. She swallowed past the hard knot in her throat at the memory and softly continued:
"I regret… everything I have done and not done… this…battle between us is really about wanting more , wanting to be something nobler, higher, and yet somehow we ended up giving less…we both had been given a divine gift of each other and failed …miserably. I admit my responsibility for failing God in his command to love each other- if only we could have trusted each other to love completely, we might have discovered each other's true being; I might have reached his heaven, his Eden…" she trailed off softly, then sighed as she continued, her eyes focused somewhere past Akiro's shoulder.
"….But the hard truth is: I am just…a weapon. I am no longer…human…yet, I am not…Spirean. I no longer fit in the world came from, I couldn't go back even if I wanted to! Yet, I do not fit in this world; there is no room for consorts or wives in the guard, you are mates for life, as you must trust the one at your back with absolute certainty. Everything I have done has been for the love of him, yet it has not been enough to erase that I will always be neither Human nor Spirean. I have no trusted shoulder to lay my head on, there is no home to go to, no bright blue heaven; no garden of Eden…"
"There is a saying on my Earth: A man cannot serve two masters. Forgive me, but to be forced to stand next to your son after all …this...would be nothing but a mockery of the relationship between sword and shield. It would be too much to accept anything less what god tells me is right: There needs to be a bond of total love and total trust to make the partnership of sword and shield truly work."
" I may not be born royal, but I came from an honorable family; my father was a marine, an officer of rank; he always told me to obey and honor your leader, but love and honor your god more. "
"And I? I say: Tarja Romanova, personal weapon and servant of the empire of the son of heaven, cannot serve Akiro Ishii and God. I request to be excused. I cannot live with the dishonor."
Akiro's eyes were upon her, gleaming with interest, like he was seeing her for the first time. She knew Tidus was also staring, and but she kept her gaze steady upon Akiro, away from the scorch of the hot cobalt gaze, which recalled his own words to Djevon, an exact echo spoken in the same loving despair at his own failing. Djevon, it's true! You did answer my prayer! She was right, we were meant to meet! You can't have gone to this much trouble only to let her die now! How hard can it be to stay together after all this?
Akiro took his time, absorbing the first true indication of civilized train of thought he had heard from her lips; he thought: Ehh! She is becoming more subtle every day! She can be pulled back to the present, her mind is not totally lost. This is not all battle stress. She has been torn in two in more than one way. Now, how do I manage this situation? She's left me no option to let Tidus get close to her again! Djevon, how I can stop her seppuku?
In a bold movement, He drew a precious object from his Obi, the last personal gift from Titania and threw the lovely carved object in front of her. He nodded at her, giving her permission. "If you still feel the same way tomorrow, by all means, die with honor, lady."
Everyone on the dais was still, leaning forward in great breathless interest at the choice the human would take.
She slowly picked up the tanto and slipped the exquisite carved black jade sheath in her Obi. The gift from Tidus, the tanto with a cracked sigil of two feathers of blue mountain jade she withdrew; she gracefully walked upon her knees to Tidus and just as gently, laid at his feet. "I thank my lord for the gift, but I don't think I'll need this anymore." She keep her gaze downcast, the dark fringe of lashes hiding what he wanted to see one last time; but no, his vain hope of turning her will from seppuku by the strength of his loving gaze crumbled to dust; she would not even look him in the eye, no matter how hard he stared. She turned to the cunning old lion on the throne and simply stated: "I am ready. "
The lady drifted out of the court, her ears now hearing blissful silence instead of the pounding of the will of the Empire against her broken heart. Akiro stayed thoughtful; now that he had bought time, his mind worked furiously to plot a way to prevent the event from happening, but his train of thought was interrupted by the soft swish of silk robes. He raised his eyes to the people of his court and saw an odd sight: by ones and twos, women rose: they daintily stepped up from their pillows, set down serving trays, stepped out from behind screens, and folded fans; all turning to bow at the empty door that had swallowed a ghost of a guard in white.
It was a silent, yet explicit insult to the son of heaven. They left the court with not one look backwards at the foolish male children they had let play for too long in the affairs of women. A woman, a true woman, had spoken. They listened.