Title: "Ami's Second Holiday" or "The Man in a Skirt"
Fandom: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon
Prompt: 401 (Blood)
Character/Pairing: Mizuno Ami, Zane Murphy/Zoisite; Zoisite x Ami
Rating: M / PG-16 / Teen
Word Count: 12,848
Summary: When the memories start coming back, Ami returns to the castle the boy in a skirt once showed her to find there's more than just his ghost story haunting the land.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Authors Notes: College-age/pre-Crystal Tokyo. Rating for the nature of what Zane is hunting at the castle – sorry, no heated smoochies here. Continuation of Ch8 ("Ami's Holiday"). When I was first working with that story, I had always intended to wrap it up with Ami going back to the castle as an adult and playing out a reunion scenario there. At the time I just couldn't get it to work, but after writing "Precautions" and spending entirely too much time in one of my faerie books this idea wiggled its way in and…well. I don't think I did the little bastards justice, but I tried. It also really, really got away from me. (Flogging Molly's "Devil's Dance Floor" for the showdown, if you're so inclined.)
Also, since this missed the Halloween posting I was aiming for and we're smack-dab in the middle of turkeys instead: happy Thanksgiving, for the States-side readers who celebrate. Wishing y'all safety on your travels and good times with your families.
"Ami's Second Holiday" or "The Man in a Skirt"
"Redcap. They'll keep their distance, but don't you go scrutinizin' 'em or looking for trouble, 'cos you'll find it with those buggers." – Neil Gaiman, Stardust
The castle hadn't changed much in the decade or so it had taken her to get back there, but Ami supposed that was the benefit of being ageless: it took much longer than eleven measly years to really change you. It still had that air of magic about it, but she was more inclined to believe that had more to do with her memories painting it as such than actual magic.
When she was a girl, her father had taken her here on holiday. He had promised to take her to see a castle, but much as she loved him her father was ultimately a man of broken promises. He had spent the entire trip working on a seascape, and she had spent a good deal of the time reading on the hill beside him. The day before they were to leave, she had met a boy in a skirt, and he had taken her to see this castle. He had told her a ghost story, and at the time she had been so wrapped up in the excitement of the trip and the feeling of familiarity she had almost believed him.
She had known the castle and the tale he had spun her, but back then she hadn't known why or even how she possibly could have. Now, years later, she did. She reached out and placed her hand on the stone wall that crumbled around the perimeter. She remembered standing here a lifetime ago with a proud king by her side, though at the time he had been less a picture of pride and more a bundle of nervous energy. He had so wanted her to love the castle, the land and people, as much as he did. He had so wanted her to stay.
She closed her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. She had come here for a reason.
Eleven years ago, the boy's mother had been furious that he had taken her to these ruins. It was too dangerous, she had claimed, to be gallivanting over the crumbling stairs and spotty floors. As a child, Ami hadn't given a second thought to the danger in light of the adventure and excitement of exploring a castle. She was more cautious now, her slow steps feeling for loose stones and pitfalls as she made her way up to the old wall-walk. In the dustier corners of her mind, the ones that had grown clearer over the past few weeks, she could see the halls as they once were: strong and regal, covered in tapestries that told the vast history of the land the castle oversaw. A door the color of midnight had once guarded the room to her left, and she remembered one of his younger sisters would stay there during her visits (he had four, she thought, though she had only ever met the one). There was a library deeper in, but she recalled on the colder nights she would perch in one of the seaward windows and read by moonlight. The moon had always shone brightest on those cold winter nights, and the part of her that was growing homesick cherished those moments, even as she was building a new home in those very walls.
She minded the last step before the walk, as he had instructed her to all those years ago, and she wondered at the way her heart panged inside her. The castle had been old the first time he brought her there, but to see it in such disrepair…
The cool air on her face was a welcome distraction. She looked out across the sea, to the waves churning below, and wondered what had happened to the boy in the skirt after that day. She knew part of his story from where it intersected her own, but she wondered how the witch had found him a second time. Mamoru had once said his men had found each other before Beryl had found them. She was comforted by that thought, at least. It was too easy to imagine the young boy in these ruins, hiding as his ghost – the witch – turned against him.
"Besides, I don't think she's a mean ghost. Just…sad."
The witch had specialized in that, turning what you cherished most against you. If the 'ghost' of this castle was his memories bleeding through, as she now believed it was, it would have been all too easy for Beryl to manipulate him with –
"You shouldn't be up here, miss!"
She jumped at the voice, torn from her thoughts, and she turned to find a young man walking towards her. Her eyes widened as she took him in. It was…
He hadn't changed, either. His hair was longer and bit unrulier, but the long copper locks were still tied back into a low ponytail. Dark sunglasses were propped on his head – she figured they were more for the look than actual necessity, as it had been overcast and threatening rain all day – allowing her to see those green, green eyes that still sparkled with mischief. He even still wore a kilt, though the dress shirt he had worn when he was younger had been swapped out for a worn charcoal tee shirt that had 'GBS' stamped over an intricate knot. A leather thong was tied around his wrist, a bluish gem woven into the braids. She could still see traces of the boy that had shown her around this castle the first time in him, but even more than that…more than that, she could see the king he had been. As he approached her, he was all lithe, cocksure grace – but then he drew closer, and she turned to fully face him, and he hesitated as uncertainty flitted across his elfin features.
"No way…" he gasped, and the uncertainty broke like the clouds before the sun as a smile split his face. "Ami? No feckin' way! Can't be you, can it?"
He rushed over to her, but he hesitated just short of embracing her. The little knot of fear that had clenched in her stomach slowly unfurled. He remembered her, but from when they were children (impressive enough, she had to admit, given they had only spent a handful of hours together eleven years ago). He didn't seem to recall…
"Zane, right?" she asked, smiling slightly. His grin widened again, and she gasped as he suddenly hugged her. He was laughing joyously, and she felt a smile tugging at her lips.
"Saints above, it is you! God, girseach, how've you been? It's been forever!" he laughed as he pulled away. He hesitated when she didn't answer, his grin slipping. "And what are you doing up here? Alone? Eejit! What the hell are you doing up here?!"
She stepped back, startled by the sudden aggressive turn. His joy of only moments ago had been replaced by a hard look, one she hadn't seen in a lifetime: fear danced along the edges, but it was all the fierce determination of a king.
"I…I was in the area, and I wanted to see the castle again," she said. It wasn't entirely a lie, but it didn't seem to satisfy him, either.
"I'm sorry, Ami, but you can't be here. It's not safe," he said. She pulled back from him, snatching away the wrist he still held to place both hands on her hips in a stance of stubborn defiance.
"I seem to recall your mother saying it wasn't safe back then, either," she bit, "but that didn't seem to stop you before. And if it's so unsafe what are you doing here?"
"I –" he started, but a noise behind them drew his attention. It wasn't anything consequential: the scuttling of rocks, probably something displaced by a rabbit or some other wild thing exploring the ruins. A new terror lit in his eyes at the sound, though, and he grabbed at her wrist again. "Listen to me, girseach. When I tell you to run, you run."
The scuttling came again, and Ami tensed as his grip tightened on her wrist.
"Zane, what…?" she started to ask. Her head began to turn, but before she could properly see behind her he was tugging her wrist, shoving her past him, and screaming at her to go. He bolted away from her, towards the darkened stairwell that led further into the ruins, and she hesitated only a moment before her feet heeded his instructions and began carrying her back towards the town.
– V –
She wondered later what the hell was wrong with her.
She was a Sailor Senshi, a personal guardian of the Moon Princess herself, and a perfectly competent warrior in her own right. Why had she run? Even if Zane had ordered her to, why had she so readily listened to him? Why had she left him alone to face…whatever it was that had scared him so? She felt sick at the thought, remembering a lifetime ago when he had last told her to run and charged off into the fray.
He never came back – or at least what did eventually return with his face hadn't been him.
She sighed and leaned forward on the grimy table, her hand coming up to cover her eyes and rub at her temples. The memories were getting worse. The flashbacks were coming more frequently, and what she remembered…she jumped at the harsh scrap of chair legs against stone, and she lowered her hand to find Zane collapsing into the chair beside her.
Well. At least he had come back this time.
"'Ey, Tom, one of your strongest," he called, waving at the man behind the bar. The man – probably in his late twenties or early thirties – snorted as he continued cleaning a glass.
"You'll have to get your lazy arse up and order properly if you want it that bad," he called. "I don't care how dead it is in here right now – I'm not waiting on you, Majesty."
Zane looked at her with a weary smile and jerked his head back at Tom.
"See that? No respect," he sighed. He shoved himself up and walked over to the bar, where Tom placed a glass on the counter before him. Zane raised it in salute. "Sláinte."
"Christ, boyo," Tom whistled as Zane proceeded to drain half the glass. "Take it easy. Take it no luck, then?"
"Nah," Zane sighed. He roughly shoved a hand through his hair and took another sip of his drink – slower this time. "Close, though. Tomorrow hopefully."
"You're a right fool, you are," Tom sighed. "You should just leave it to Kas and be done with it. The garda will –"
"Not be able to do a damned thing, and you know it," Zane bit. "And Kas is more than welcome to help, but he's got his own shite to deal with now. So feck off already."
"You're gonna get yourself killed, boyo," Tom hissed, leaning closer. Ami felt herself bristle at the warning, but when Zane glanced back at her she quickly returned her gaze to the mug of tea warming her hands.
"Wouldn't be the first time," she heard him quip. He thanked Tom for the drink, and she heard the barkeep grumbling in reply as Zane returned to his seat beside her.
"Do I want to know?" she asked, looking up from her tea. His grin was entirely too toothy, his eyes sparkling with too much innocence.
"Know what? Tom's just an old bastard," he said, raising his glass to her before drinking again. He sighed as he leaned back in his seat, stretching his legs out in front of him. She raised an eyebrow at the muddy combat boots covering his feet, but he wasn't really looking at her anymore. "Christ, I'm knackered."
Ami was sorely tempted to laugh. The whole mess was just too ridiculous. She was sitting in a nearly deserted pub in a country she had spent a week in when she was eight years old across from a man she had only spent a handful of hours with during that week. She remembered he had jotted an address in the back of a book she'd had with her, but it wasn't like she had kept in touch - and here he was, acting like they were old friends. Like they had always been thick as thieves and no time had passed at all since their last meeting. When you threw in the extenuating circumstances further complicating matters…the thought gave her pause. Her own memories of the Silver Millennium had remained murky at best until the wedding. Usagi and Mamoru marrying had broken the proverbial dam that had shielded the Senshi from the more traumatic recollections of the past. Eyeing Zane over her tea, she wondered if the same was true of the Shitennou.
…not that any of them had realized the men from their past were still alive.
"Sorry," he sighed, tearing her from her thoughts. "I was so excited to see you earlier, but I'm afraid I'm not much of a companion tonight."
"You still haven't told me what you were doing up there," she accused.
"You still haven't told me what you were doing up there," he countered, waggling his eyebrows at her. His grin grew as she visibly bristled, and he waved her off. "Relax, girseach. You said you wanted to see the castle again, but what I meant was what brings you back here? Awfully far from…Japan, right?"
"I'm amazed you remember," she said. A small smile tugged at her lips. She knew she should stay on guard, but it was too easy to relax around him. His presence was…comforting. Familiar. Makoto would describe him as the type of guy you could grab a beer with, if you were into that kind of thing. (Ami wasn't, but the sentiment still stood. Zane had this air about him that made you feel you welcomed.)
"Yeah, well, don't know if you remember, but I was quite smitten by you," he chuckled. "Would you believe I actually told me mam that I was in love with you?"
She choked on her tea, and he laughed as he reached over and clapped her back.
"Easy, girseach," he laughed. "I was a bit put out that you never wrote. Thought we were gonna be friends."
"I…life got complicated," she said, taking a quick sip of her tea to clear the burning in her throat. He hummed, looking out the window to the rainy street beyond. "To be fair, I didn't think you were serious."
"I'm always serious," he quipped. At her raised eyebrow, he winked. "Usually. Was about you, though. Besides, it's not every day I take a pretty little thing up to my castle."
"You're incorrigible," she laughed, and he shrugged.
"Not really. Just usually know what I want. Anyway, I get it – life getting complicated. Had a pretty bad accident not long after you were here. Lost about two years," he said. It was like he had just doused her with one of her own frozen attacks.
"Did…did you?" she asked, and he nodded.
"Serves me right, really. Slipped on the rocks or something at the castle, bashed my head in. That's what they tell me, at least. I was in a coma for two years," he said. He chuckled slightly and reached for his drink again. "Mam wouldn't let me near it for ages. She's still furious I sneak off. Anyway, that's all past. Hope your complication wasn't as complicated."
She was amazed at how…blasé he was about it all, like being in a coma for two years was no big deal. She wondered how much of the 'hit his head on the rocks' story was true, though. It all seemed very convenient, if it really was not too long after she had visited. That would place it…well, around when her own life got complicated.
"Right! So, what are you plans for tomorrow? Night time, specifically?" he asked, jerking her from her thoughts again.
"S-sorry?" she asked.
"I want to catch up – maybe take you to dinner? Which I'd offer tonight, but like I said: knackered. I'm afraid as soon as I get home I'm gonna be out," he said, laughing again. "I'm gonna be tied up during the day, but I'm hoping it won't take too long."
"Are you going back to the castle?" she asked. It was the first time since he had sat down that he seemed to tense, as if he were nervous about going into too much detail.
"Look, girseach," he sighed. She frowned at the endearment, thinking she should probably be offended at its use but unsure why it rankled her so. He leaned forward, back to the table, drawing closer to her and leveling her with a wary eye. "I'm asking as a friend. And if you don't feel comfortable calling me such then as a local. There's been a spot of trouble up that way the past week, and I need you to promise me you won't go near it again."
"But you're going back," she accused, and he nodded.
"My castle. My responsibility," he said. "I don't need you getting hurt, girseach."
"I can take care of myself," she pressed, and he nodded.
"Sure you can," he said, and despite the words there was nothing condescending about his tone. He believed her, but he still found the point moot. She tried not to feel offended by it all. "But I'd rather not risk it. My castle, my responsibility. Please, Ami. Don't go back there."
"How do I know this isn't just another one of your ghost stories?" she asked, and he chuckled as he tugged at his hair again.
"Oh, there's still a ghost," he said with a shake of his head, "but she's not what's been…look, it should be done tomorrow. If you're sticking around a bit, I'll take you back and give you a grand tour once it's safe. Just promise me you won't go back yet."
She pressed her lips together in a tight frown. She didn't want to promise him anything, and yet…
"Fine," she sighed. "I promise."
– V –
She had had every intention of keeping that promise, too – until she looked outside her window at a quarter to midnight and saw a familiar, long-haired figure walking down the street. She had hesitated only a moment before grabbing a coat, stuffing the essentials like her room key and wallet into a pocket, and making her way downstairs.
"Wouldn't go out there if I were you, miss."
She froze at the door, the old voice halting her in her tracks. She turned to the desk as a light clicked on, the elderly innkeeper frowning at her from the meager glow of an antique lamp.
"I…I was having trouble sleeping," she said. It wasn't a total lie, and she prayed it sounded convincing enough to the man. "I thought I'd take a walk to clear my head. Maybe make myself tired – jetlag and all that."
"Hmmm," the man hummed. He leaned back in his chair and glanced out the window. "Heard you were up by those ruins earlier. Might be you're thinking of going back."
"No," she said, maybe a bit too quickly. "I promised…I told a friend I wouldn't, so I won't."
"Good. Strange things been happening up there as of late," he said. "Garda say some hooligans have been attacking tourists. Wouldn't want you getting hurt, miss."
"Attacks?" she asked, frowning. Zane had told her there had been trouble at the castle, and she recalled what the barkeep had told Zane earlier, about letting the police handle things. Was that what he had been doing at the ruins, then? Tracking down some miscreants?
"Nothing to worry your pretty little head about, to be sure," the innkeeper said. He produced a half-eaten apple and took a bite. "Long as you don't go near it. Besides, it's late. Should stay indoors. Never can tell what sort of beasties be wandering about this time of night. Witching hour and all that."
"I'll be fine," she said. Perhaps a bit too harshly, but the old man merely sighed and waved her off.
"Suit yourself," he said. "Just don't come crying to me if you wind up dead."
She didn't even take the time to point out how idiotic that sounded. Her eyes tightened into a glare as she gave him a curt nod, and moments later she was on the street. Zane had gotten a decent head start on her, but she could still see him making his way out of town – towards the cliffs. She kept a safe distance behind him, using years of similar experiences to dart from shadow to shadow as she tailed him. He had almost reached the town limits when another voice, this one loud and authoritative, caused her to jump into an alleyway.
"And just where the hell do you think you're going, Murphy?"
Ami glanced around the edge of the building she was pressed against to see a man with short, curly dark hair approaching Zane. He wore a policeman's uniform, and he didn't look happy. Zane gave him an easy-going grin, but the man was nonplussed.
"Evening, officer," Zane said easily. "Just out for a late-night stroll. Yourself?"
"Cut the shite, Murphy," the officer bit. "Thought you were gonna leave this to us professionals?"
"Well, if you professionals actually knew what the hell you were doing, I might," Zane quipped. "As is, I –"
"Will be turning your good for nothing arse around right now and heading back home," the officer instructed, placing his hands on his hips and glaring at the younger man. "I mean it, Zane. You've done enough – stop worrying your mam like this and get home."
"The hell I will, Sean! If you think for a minute –" Zane started, but the presence of another man cut him off.
"Gentlemen!" the man shouted, his voice deep and commanding. Ami watched him approach with wide eyes: walking towards them, wearing a similar uniform to the other man, was Kunzite. He stopped before them, his arms crossed disapprovingly across his chest as his steely gaze shifted between the two. Ami was surprised to see his silver hair was still long, though tied back – she would have thought regulations would dictate he cut it, but somehow she couldn't quite picture the proud man with short hair.
"Sir," the other officer, Sean, was quick to say. "Caught this one roaming the streets. Just sending him on his way."
"The hell you were, you –" Zane started, but he froze when Kunzite leveled him with a glare.
"Thank you for your concern, Officer Keane, but I'll take it from here," he said. Sean sputtered out a few weak protests, but Kunzite turned his glare on him and the man promptly shut up. "Thank you, Officer, but I'll take it from here."
"Sir," Sean bit, and after a parting glare at Zane he stalked off into the night. Ami ducked back into the shadows as he walked past, grumbling darkly all the way.
"You need to stop antagonizing him," Kunzite sighed when the other man was gone. Ami peeked back around the corner to see he had relaxed slightly, though his arms still remained crossed over his chest. "One of these days he will find a reason to arrest you, and I won't be able to stop him."
"Sure you will," Zane said, laughing slightly. "Else what's the point of having family on the force?"
"You push your luck," Kunzite warned. Zane grew silent, looking off to the edge of town and the castle looming in the distance. "Why aren't you home, Zane? You know mum'll go mad if she wakes up and finds you gone again."
"I told you earlier: I didn't catch it," he said, and Kunzite groaned as he reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose.
"Zane…" he sighed. "You were out there all day. You need to rest – what good will you be if you're too tired to fight?"
"It's been left unchecked long enough, Kas," Zane said. "Three people are dead, and we both know it won't stop. I haven't been able to catch it during the day, so I figured if I tried at night I might have more luck."
"That doesn't mean anything," Kunzite said tersely. "One of the victims went missing in broad daylight – the time of day has nothing to do with when it attacks."
"Doesn't it, though? We both know these things are typically more active at night, and it's a border creature to boot – what better time than midnight to track it down?" Zane pressed, and Kunzite groaned again. "Look, I got enough rest earlier. I'll be fine. Come with me if you're so worried."
"You know I can't, not without a better excuse," Kunzite sighed. He reached out, clasping a hand on Zane's shoulder. Ami was surprised to see a leather thong nearly identical to Zane's own tied about Kunzite's wrist, this one holding a light pink stone. Zane reached up and grasped the hand, and Ami's eyes widened as the two stones seemed to react, pulsing with a light glow when they were brought in proximity to the other. Something was tickling at her mind, something from years ago…she knew those stones… "Be careful, brother."
"I always am," Zane said flippantly, and Kunzite laughed slightly as he squeezed his shoulder before releasing him. He started to walk off, instructing Zane to call if he needed him. Zane laughed, calling him a worry wort, before he turned and once more began making his way towards the cliffs. When the coast was clear, Ami followed.
– V –
The castle was an entirely different creature at night. The clouds had miraculously cleared during the evening – something Ami had had yet to see during her time there – and the moon shone brightly in the sky, casting the ruins in an otherworldly glow. A slight breeze had picked up, carrying with it the scent of the sea and wet grass and stone. Ami shivered as she hugged her jacket tighter to her.
She remembered another such night early into their acquaintance. It was the longest she had been Earthbound since the peace talks had started, and she was desperately homesick – not just for her native Mercury, but for the Moon she had come to call home since her Senshi training had truly begun. Finding herself unable to sleep, she had taken to reading one of the tomes she had borrowed from the castle library. She was halfway through the book when the presumptuous young lord (who hadn't stopped flirting with her the entire time she had been there, much to her vexation) had knocked on her door, claiming he had a surprise for her. He had taken her up to the wall-walk, and she remembered her breath leaving her at the view. The moon had been large, shining down on the sea beyond with such beauty…
It was the first time Zoisite had kissed her.
She took a deep, steadying breath. Now was not the time for such thoughts, if what the townspeople had said was to be believed. She had to stay vigilant.
Following Zane had been much harder once he had left the town behind. The road to the cliffs and the castle was a barren incline that provided no cover. She had lingered, giving him a head start before she had taken off after him. She knew it would take only one wrong step, one stumble or kicked pebble, to be caught. Luck seemed to be on her side, however, as she followed him up the hill and he passed through the crumbling outer wall without being any wiser to her presence. She had watched from a safe distance as he had disappeared deeper into the ruins, and she had taken the opportunity to creep up behind the wall.
Now she wasn't quite sure where he had run off to. The place seemed deserted, a deathly silence that was broken only by the wind whistling over the grass and through the ancient halls. And…was that…whistling? She frowned and peered around the wall, watching as Zane emerged into the courtyard. He had been whistling, but he stopped as he stepped into the moonlight and looked around.
"All right, ye beastie," he called, his voice echoing over the rocks. "Twelve thirty. Where the hell are you?"
Silence greeted him.
"Right," he sighed. He looked around, frowning, before he turned back to the shadows of a stairwell. He picked up his song, his voice louder and sounding almost care-free as he disappeared into the darkness. "Musha ring dumma do, dumma da…"
Ami's eyes narrowed, and before she could question the wisdom behind her decision she darted across the courtyard and up the stairwell behind him. He had stopped whistling by this point, opting instead for outright, lighthearted singing.
"Whack for my daddy-o, whack for my daddy-o, there's whiskey in the jar," he sang, turning right and climbing higher into the ruins. Ami paused before stepping onto the landing, glimpsing around the corner to find him still climbing. "I first produced my pistol and then produced my rapier. Saying, 'Stand and deliver, for you are a bold deceiver…'"
He stopped when he reached the next landing, the song trailing off. He had tensed, but Ami couldn't see into the room beyond. She watched as Zane's fist clenched, and the next thing she knew he had raised his arm, the gem in his bracelet producing a blinding, familiar flash. When it had cleared, a long, brown cloak had unfurled from his shoulders. The wind caught it, pulling it back, and Ami's eyes widened as she saw the white and gold uniform beneath.
She remembered that uniform.
It was different – better – than the last one she had seen him in, the sooty gray Beryl had forced them into when she had taken control of their minds. It was the uniform of an Elysian King. Of a Shitennou. It was…
She closed her eyes when she heard him speak, his voice summoning a thousand memories she knew she didn't have time to indulge. She took a steadying breath and looked back to the landing, but he was gone. Cursing slightly, she pulled out her henshin wand and followed his lead. Moments later, Sailor Mercury was creeping up the steps.
"You're a long way from home, boyo," Zoisite said evenly, his voice echoing through the chamber. Mercury froze when she heard the snarling response. She darted up the last few steps and ducked behind the doorway, peeking around in time to see Zoisite summon his sword. Her breath hitched at the sight of the claymore – she had forgotten… "About time you showed your ugly mug."
Mercury looked past him, and she felt her blood freeze. He stood just inside a large, empty room. The windows on the seaward wall had long since rotted away, and a large section of stone had begun crumbling on the opposite wall, creeping into the ceiling. The result was a cross breeze that chilled the room and a swathe of moonlight illuminating the center. Something was moving among the shadows at the far end, its eyes gleaming in the darkness. A low snuffling, snarling noise was coming from it as it slunk along the wall, but it didn't speak in reply to Zoisite's taunts. Mercury wondered if whatever it was was capable of speech.
"You've been hurting my people," Zoisite continued, notching his sword on the stone before him. He stood, tall and proud and fearless before the thing in the shadows. "I can't allow that."
"Taoiseach," the creature spat, and Zoisite grinned at him.
"Finally, some respect!" he laughed, but the creature let out a sudden snarl and leapt at him. Mercury nearly screamed when it crossed into the light.
She should be used to strange, unnatural things. She had fought countless youma over the course of her life, and they weren't always the most appealing beings. This…whatever this thing was, it was worse. It wasn't terribly tall, maybe just over three feet, but it was all gnarled, gangly limbs. It was horribly fast, and had Zoisite not raised his sword to lock against the pointed, curling claws of its hands she might not have gotten a good look at it. While it could be considered scrawny, she saw the muscles roped over its arms. It was dressed simply, in tattered trousers, a fraying vest, and rusted boots. Wispy, white hair crept out beneath a cap, and its gnarled face made it look old – like a diminutive, elderly man, but somehow she knew there was nothing human about this creature. Its cap was perhaps the worst of it. It was a deep, dark color, and when it caught the moonlight it glistened. There was a stench, vile and rank, cloying the air. Seeing the slick shine of that cap, Mercury had no doubt about what was coating it.
As soon as it had crossed into the light it was gone, moving with Zoisite's swing to dart back into the shadows. It returned moments later, darting beneath his blade to swipe at the High King's legs – but Zoisite was quick, too, and he easily sidestepped before shoving a boot against the creature's back. It momentarily lost its balance, but it recovered in time to dodge Zoisite's following swing. On and on it went, weaving in and out of Zoisite's strokes like a deadly, intricate dance until finally it stood panting on the edge of the shadows. It snarled and stepped closer, but Zoisite raised his claymore and grinned at it.
"Come on, then," he taunted, not even winded. "I expected more from the likes of you."
It yowled, then, and leapt quicker than either of them had expected. Zoisite cursed and dodged the creature just in time, rolling under his blade even as his opponent arced above him. When Zoisite turned to parry the next blow, Mercury noticed the red staining his shoulder. He forced the monster back with a grunt, and it chuckled as it came to rest a few steps away – just out of reach. It raised its claws, dripping with Zoisite's blood, and lapped at them with a pallid tongue. Her fist clenched in fury, but still she lingered just out of sight.
"I expected more from the likes of you," it chuckled. Its voice was raspy, halted – as if it was unused to human speech. It dipped its head, dark eyes glinting. "Taoiseach."
"I'd offer you a last chance to leave," Zoisite said, rolling his injured shoulder with a grimace, "but we both know you'd just move on to kill elsewhere. As I can't allow that, be a good fellow and just die already."
"We have more right to this land than you, child king," it rasped. "You die."
"I'm older than I look, I'm afraid," Zoisite's voice was steel, despite his joking tone. "My land. My castle. My people you've been snacking on. So, sorry, but – Christ above!"
He was knocked to the ground as the creature roared and dove for his midsection. His sword was knocked from his hands, and he cursed again as he grappled with the howling beast. It gnashed its teeth at him, twisting its claws in an attempt to dislodge Zoisite's hands from its wrists. Zoisite tried to remove him with a kick, but it was too short and the High King too lanky – his boots only scrambled against the stone, his enemy proving stronger than it initially looked.
She couldn't just watch anymore.
Her eyes narrowed on the creature as she summoned a blast of freezing water, her arm shooting out fluidly as the wave sprang from her fingertips. It yowled as the attack slammed into its side, throwing it from Zoisite to crash into a wall where it fell in a startled heap to the floor, panting as the dust settled around it. Zoisite's head jerked up in surprise as she stepped into the moonlight, her boots clicking against the stone the only sound to announce her presence. Her hand was still raised towards their opponent, but her eyes slid to Zoisite to check for any new injuries. He seemed fine, if otherwise startled.
"You…" he gasped out, but her focus had already returned to the creature, who was pushing itself up.
"You looked like you could use some help," she said, hoping her voice sounded as light as she intended. She didn't see Zoisite's blink, but she heard his chuckle as he hopped up and grabbed his sword.
"I had it covered," he said. "I was just lulling it into a false sense of security."
"By letting it attempt to eat your face?" she asked. When he failed to answer, she shot him a smile. "I rather like your face, my king. Perhaps we could attempt to preserve it?"
His jaw had dropped, and she was pleased to find his skin looked rosier in the moonlight. Was it actually possible that she had made him blush?
The creature, tired of being ignored, didn't give her a chance to really entertain the idea. It yowled and charged, and without a second thought she summoned a freezing fog to obscure the area. She heard it scuttle against the stones as it halted its charge, an enraged grunting letting her know it was closer than she was comfortable with. As she slipped back to Zoisite's side, she clicked her earring and activated her visor. It was scenting the air, snarling as it took a hesitant step forward in the fog.
"I assume you don't actually have a plan beyond killing it?" she whispered, glancing to the startled king beside her.
"You…and the fog…" Zoisite spluttered, gesturing blindly, and she fought the urge to roll her eyes.
"Zoisite, focus!" she hissed. "Do you have a plan?"
"Kill it," he supplied, and this time she did roll her eyes. Zoisite had always had an impetuous streak, but he had at least been practical. Calculating. He was a born tactician that rarely flew by the seat of his pants, and she found this new Roll With It attitude of his disconcerting. She sighed and reached under her visor, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"The fog won't distract it for long," she said. "Any weaknesses? What is it?"
"Bad news," he said, but before he could give her any more information it was howling again and charging blindly out of the fog. He shoved her aside with a shout to move as he spun into the creature's path, lifting his blade to block its attack. He kicked at it before swinging again, but it darted out of his way and charged towards her instead. She heard Zoisite shouting at her as she flipped out of the way, her hand landing against its back as she went. She focused on that point, summoning a blast of water that sent it flailing into the adjacent wall. It gasped as it slipped against the wet stone, its chest heaving in rage as it raised murderous eyes her way.
Her visor wasn't proving to be very helpful. Her eyes narrowed as she quickly scanned the information flashing before her eyes: readings of the creature, an error message claiming no identification was available, and an option for a more thorough scan she knew would be useless. As the creature charged again, she knew there wouldn't be time to complete it.
"Zoisite!" she shouted as she leapt out of the way again. This time, it barreled past her to slash at him. "Weaknesses!"
"Doesn't really have any!" he grunted as he slashed at it. The sound it made as the blade cut against its side sent tremors down Mercury's spine. "Little bastard's been feasting lately – he's at top strength, I reckon!"
"Die!" it screeched as it leapt upon him.
"You first!" Zoisite barked, tossing his sword to the side and opting instead for a well-placed punch to the creature's jaw. The brawling style lacked his usual finesse, but she was quickly learning that – just as with the Senshi – perhaps there weren't any 'usual's anymore. He cursed as the creature skidded back, its bloodied teeth gleaming as it smirked at him. His blade had seemed too long to prove any real use in the fight, but punching the damn thing had been like driving his fist against solid rock. Its next attack was cut off as another wave of water shot it across the room. He grinned maniacally at Mercury as she came up beside him. "Saw that going better in my head!"
She glanced at his hand, frowning as she did a quick scan. Her visor didn't pick up any fractures, but his knuckles were definitely bruised. He gestured haphazardly at the demon stalking the shadows before them.
"Thinking long-range attacks will be the best bet – can't seem to do much good when he gets close," Zoisite said. "Think you can keep him at bay so I can run him through?"
She was about to assure him that it would be no problem when she was tackled to the ground, and she screamed as its teeth sank into her forearm. She kicked at it, scrambling, but it held tight. Its lips curled back, a dark, wet chuckle slipping from the demon. Its teeth lodged deep, red spilling over her gloves. She screamed as she drew her good arm back, preparing an attack, when the scream turned pained as its teeth were ripped from her arm.
"Let her go, ye bastard!" Zoisite shouted, grabbing it from behind and yanking it back. He slammed his foot into its abdomen, sending it skidding away, and Mercury saw her opening. She lurched forward, throwing her good arm out with a final shout of desperation. She focused her power and shot a frozen blast the demon's way. It howled again as it leapt towards them – perhaps to dodge her attack, perhaps in a blind, bloodthirsty fury – but the shine of the wave sprouting from her fingertips caught it mid-air. It howled again, deeper and more desperate, as its claws tore through the air. She could see the strain from trying to kick its legs, but it was incased in ice from the waist-down. Before she could breathe, before she could even think they had a moment to regroup, she heard the telltale splinters, the cracks forming in the ice from the strength behind its powerful legs. She was gathering another attack when Zoisite spun away from her, twirling his claymore with a practiced ease that belied the sword's weight, and a heavy thwump followed his battle cry.
She felt her stomach lurch as she looked up again and saw the spatter on the ceiling, the head lolled to a stop just before her. Zoisite stood over the corpse, chest heaving as his grip tightened on the sword lodged in the stone. Its blade shone with thick, dark blood, and he glared at the head with such hate it almost made her blood chill. She winced when he stalked over and, with a definitive kick, punted the head back over to the body.
She was used to youma that tended to disintegrate once they were defeated. Even if they were from totems, like a card or a crystal or a mirror, the totem would turn to ash once it was truly dead. A smattering of glittering energy left to blow away in the void. This…whatever this thing was, it didn't seem inclined to do the same. She was about to ask Zoisite what they should do with the thing when she heard the sound of a match striking, and her eyes widened as he dropped the match onto the body. Within moments it was covered in flames, a macabre beacon held aloft by the rapidly melting ice.
"Sorry," he said, voice rough, "but I didn't really wanna touch that thing. Sure you understand."
She looked away from the fire, but before she could reply her eyes locked on its hat, dislodged from when Zoisite had kicked it and still lying in a wet heap on the floor. Her stomach flipped again, and he frowned when he turned back to look at her.
"Christ above," he cursed as he saw the hat lying there. He snatched it with the tip of his sword and tossed it on the flames. "Sorry."
She had been fighting youma since she was fourteen. At the time, the worst trauma her young life had experienced was an ultimately tame divorce from her parents. She had been thrust into the supernatural somewhat against her will, and in all that time…with all the horrors she had seen, with all the death she had seen…this was the first time it had physically made her ill. She had felt ill before, true, but as she doubled over and the meager contents of her stomach emptied onto the stone floor she couldn't recall a time that sick feeling had ever had a physical manifestation.
"Easy there, easy there…let it out," Zoisite's comforting voice came from behind her, and she tensed as she felt his hand running soothing lines along her back. She thought she should be mortified, but she felt too drained to care. She leaned back on her heels, bringing a hand up to wipe her glove against her mouth. She winced when she caught sight of the blood staining that glove.
"S-sorry," she croaked. She took a few gasping breaths, trying to calm her rattled nerves. It didn't seem to be working. "Not my best moment, but…what was that thing? You never did say."
"Redcap," he said, looking back to the fire. There was a certain hate glinting in his usually carefree eyes. "They're not normally this far south, but I guess…"
His voice trailed off, and she felt his hand tense on her back. Funny how she hadn't realized he was still touching her. She looked at him in question and found he was watching her with wide eyes.
"You guess…?" she offered, dipping her head towards him, and she yelped as he grabbed her arm.
"Shite," he hissed, "you're still bleeding!"
"I'll be fine," she said reassuringly, placing her free hand on his shoulder. He glanced up at her, the concern in his eyes almost overwhelming, and she did her best to smile at him. "Really, Zoisite. I've had worse."
"Worse…" he murmured, and he frowned as his eyes narrowed at her. "You know me. You know my name. How?"
She watched him for a long moment, studying him. There was recognition in his eyes, but it was confused – she realized that, despite regaining his powers, he didn't seem to remember her. She wasn't sure how to feel about that.
"Yes," she finally said, nodding. "I know you."
"I've seen you before," he said quickly, straightening slightly. "I mean…not you, but…no, you. I've…I've been dreaming about you. I just didn't know it 'til I saw you."
"O-oh?" she asked, startled by his admission. He nodded, and she bit her lower lip. "That's –"
"I was looking for you," he continued, cutting her off. "I was supposed to find you. When I sleep, I see you, right? But…not you. You're dressed fancier. And you're all shadowy. But it's you – I'd know you anywhere. And you're telling me I have to find you, because you can take me to the Prince."
She hadn't expected his admission to hurt as much as it did. It shouldn't have surprised her – after all, when the Senshi were first awoken, wasn't their primary objective to find the missing Moon Princess? It only made sense that the Shitennou would be concerned with locating their Prince. And really, if that was all he remembered, shouldn't she just be glad some part of him at least remembered a bit of her, too?
She also hadn't quite known how she would feel upon seeing him again, if she ever saw him again. For so long he had simply been a childhood enemy, and even knowing that he had formerly served Prince Endymion…he was a defector, at best. Until the memories started returning. After that, she hadn't known what to expect. She thought she'd be angry. She thought she might even be excited, or relieved – happy, maybe. She hadn't thought she'd feel so…disappointed. Sad.
"I can take you to the Prince, yes," she finally said, her grip on his shoulder tightening slightly. Her hand was shaking. She wished it would stop. "Do you really not remember anything, Zoisite?" Do you really not remember me?
He was frowning at her again.
"I…I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head. "I look at you, and I know you, and I don't know why, but…I'm sorry. I feel like I'm really, really sorry – like I can't tell you that enough."
"I don't think you need to be as sorry as you think," she said, laughing slightly. It was too much. It was all just too much. She wanted to hug him, and she wanted to cry, and – more than anything, she realized with a glance back to the pyre – she just wanted to sleep. "I…think we should talk."
"Yeah, probably should," he said, sitting back. She shook her head as she took his hand. He jerked slightly at the contact, his eyes darting up to her own.
"Not now," she said, squeezing his hand. "I know you have to be exhausted – I am. I'll meet you at the pub tomorrow for lunch?"
"I…sure," he said, nodding dumbly. "But…how will I know you?"
She did laugh at that, unable to stop herself.
"Oh, you'll know me," she said. She waved her arm at him. "If nothing else look for the girl with the bandaged arm."
"That's not –" he started, but she pressed a finger to his lips and shook her head.
"You finish up here," she said, refusing to look at the fire. "I'll see you tomorrow, ok?"
She left him there, quickly disappearing into the shadows as he called after her retreating form.
– V –
She had told him she was exhausted, and it was true. That still didn't mean she was able to sleep when she got back to her room. She was exhausted, yes, but she was also running on adrenaline. She felt like a livewire, practically buzzing as her mind turned over everything that had happened.
Zane.
Zoisite.
The…Redcap, had he called it? Thinking back on its grotesque hat, she found the name apropos.
Prior to the wedding, Luna and Artemis had warned them that their monarchs' union would act as a trigger. They had all known there were still memories missing from the Silver Millennium, just as they knew their advisors and monarchs knew more than they did. Usagi had felt it only fair to warn them that the memories were coming, and that they may not like what they recalled (she had given Rei a particularly pointed look at this). But it would be necessary, Luna had argued, for the times to come. With Crystal Tokyo just around the corner, they would need full access to their former lives and powers in order to rule properly. They had already seen it manifest, she had continued, with their growing powers – specifically how they no longer needed to use incantations to summon their attacks. The unlocking of their memories was just the next step in their growth.
So the Senshi had known the memories would be returning, they had known they may not be pleasant, and they had all agreed that – unless something truly dire happened – Mamoru and Usagi were not to be disturbed on their honeymoon. Ami knew this, had agreed to it, and had even been the one to suggest it – they were adults now, after all, and surely they could handle things themselves while their leaders took a well-deserved vacation?
That had, of course, been before she had returned to Ireland. Before she had seen Zane along the wall-walk and realized exactly who he was. Before she had fought alongside Zoisite against a…Redcap. (And what on earth was a Redcap, anyway? A new enemy? A lone straggler left over from a previous enemy? It seemed ridiculous, as most of their previous enemies had seemed…well, centralized to Japan.)
So she pulled out her phone, and at around a quarter after two in the morning she dialed Usagi's number.
She caught them in the middle of breakfast.
Her apologies were longer than her explanation for the call, but Mamoru was glad for the intrusion. He agreed that they needed to be made aware, and he asked her to call again after she had met with Zane.
"They're…if all they have to go on are obscure dreams telling them to find me," Mamoru said, his voice heavy with ghosts of the past, "then they're going to need us. Thank you for this, Ami."
She still wasn't able to sleep after the call ended, so after treating her wound she pulled out her laptop and searched for Redcaps. There hadn't been much to go from – just some obscure mythology sites giving a too-brief description of an old monster and too many references to Dungeons and Dragons and other fantasy games. She passed out with a poor artist's rendition leering back at her and without setting an alarm, and when she finally woke up it was just past noon.
She had fallen asleep in her clothes from the day before, and after quickly brushing her teeth and running her hands through her bedraggled hair she grabbed her jacket and left for the pub.
Zane was outside on his phone when she arrived.
"Nah, she's not here yet," he was saying as she approached. "Well, no…I mean, she'd said I'd know her, right? So I think it's safe to say I'll know her. No, Kas. Kas! I'll let you know…look, it was late – maybe she overslept? I dunno! I…" He paused as she waved at him, his eyes lighting up in delight. "…have to call you back. No, it's not…Kas, hanging up now!"
He grinned at her as he shoved the phone in a pocket.
"Hey! Thought I wasn't seeing you until tonight?" he asked, even as she was apologizing for being late. They both paused, and it struck her that he really had no idea. He didn't recognize her at all – which was…ok, weird? Honestly, how many girls with short blue hair were running around this little town? He blinked, his smile slipping slightly. "Sorry?"
"I…" she paused, and she laughed as she shook her head. She reached up to press a hand against her eyes, and she missed the way he gasped as her coat sleeve slipped down her arm, revealing the edges of her bandage. "I really need some coffee. And food. We did agree on lunch, didn't we?"
"You…" he gawked, and she nodded towards the pub.
"We have a lot to talk about, I know," she said, "but I really need some caffeine. I overslept – I said sorry about that, didn't I? – and I came straight here, so I really, really need some coffee before we talk. And food."
"Wait, wait, wait," he said, grabbing her arm as she went to move past him. She winced when his hand closed around her wound, and he cursed as he jerked back like she'd burnt him. Or like he'd burnt her. "Sorry. I…Ami, let me get this straight here. You're…last night?"
"Yes," she said simply. She was too tired to play any games with him, and dancing around the truth had never been her forte. She reached out and took his hand, squeezing gently in encouragement. And it took a moment, his eyes darting about as he took her in and processed her words, but then he actually smiled – a full-blown, face-splitting grin, actually, and despite her own exhaustion she had to smile at that. At least he seemed pleased by her revelation.
The pub was relatively empty when they went inside. She had expected it to be busier, but apart from a few stragglers and Tom behind the counter there was no lunch rush to be found. She grabbed a table as Zane went to Tom and ordered, and a short while later he had returned with drinks and news that sandwiches would follow shortly. She had removed her jacket, and his eyes had immediately fallen to the bandage on her arm.
"How bad is it?" he asked. She shrugged slightly.
"I've had worse," she answered truthfully. The wound had been bad, but she had thoroughly cleaned and bandaged it. That, along with her accelerated healing abilities, would prevent any infection from setting in. She jumped when he set a small jar on the table before her.
"Keep it clean," he instructed. "Use that on it three times a day. Three's a good number. Should keep anything from setting in."
"I'm studying to be a doctor," she said. She pushed the jar back to him, offering a smile. "And I've been a Senshi since I was fourteen. I appreciate the gesture, but I think I know how to take care of a wound."
His eyes narrowed at her title – Senshi, as if it tickled something in his memory – but he said nothing as he pushed the jar back to her.
"All due respect, Ami, that's no ordinary wound you have there," he finally said. "Keep it clean, and use that three times a day."
"What is it?" she asked dubiously, and he rolled his eyes.
"A salve," he said. When she still failed to take it, he took her hand, picked the jar up, and placed it in her palm. "Would you just trust me, girseach? That bite you got there isn't from anything natural. This salve is an old recipe, and it's specially made to heal against bastards like what got you last night. So please just humor me and take it, all right?"
She sighed and placed the jar in her jacket pocket, laughing slightly. She gave him a weary smile as she sipped her coffee, then said, "I almost forgot what an overbearing mother hen you could be."
He merely grinned as he leaned back in his chair. He had an arm slung casually across the back, and his feet were kicked up in another chair. He was picking at a nick in the table, and he kept looking back to Tom. When the silence had dragged on for too long, he glanced back at her. She had almost finished her coffee. "So," he started, catching her attention, "you know me."
"I know you," she said.
"And not just from when we were kids," he pressed, and she took the final sip of her coffee.
"This is actually really good coffee," she said in lieu of answering. "I think I'll have another."
Before she could stand he had reached out and grabbed her wrist, slouching across the table with a groan. He whined, "Ami, come on. You're killing me here."
"I'm sorry," she said. She pulled her hand back slightly, but only to link her fingers with his own. He jumped at the contact, as if she had physically shocked him, and he raised his head to stare at their joined hands. "It's just a bit harder than I thought it would be. Zane, I need you to tell me what you know. What you remember. It'll be easier to explain everything from there."
"Well, what do you mean, what I know?" he asked. "I know a lot. I –"
"You know what I mean, Zane," she cut in, her eyes narrowing at him. "I know you are Zoisite, but do you know who Zoisite was…is? Do you remember what that means? Do you…do you remember me? Do you remember Sailor Mercury?"
"Sailor…I know that name," he said, rubbing at his temple. He snapped his fingers as something seemed to come to him. "Sailor V. She was in England a few years back? But no, I don't know Sailor Mercury. At least I don't think I do."
"Oi, Murphy!" Tom called, tapping on the bar, and Zane rolled his eyes before squeezing her hand. She released him as he stood, and a few moments later he was back with their sandwiches and another mug of coffee for her. She raised her eyebrows, impressed at the balancing act he was pulling with the plates, and he winked at her.
"I pick up shifts now and then," he said. He took a bite of his sandwich and nodded back to Tom. "Another reason the old bastard hates me."
She hummed and took a bite. It was surprisingly good.
"You told me last night that you've been having dreams," she said after they had eaten a few moments in silence. He swallowed and nodded. "When did they start?"
"Being perfectly honest?" he asked, and she fought the urge to roll her eyes as she nodded. He shrugged and looked back to his sandwich. "It's…complicated. Remember I told you I was in a coma? I guess they started around when I woke up from that."
"And what caused the coma again?" she asked. He put his sandwich down and slouched back in his chair, his arm resting across the back again.
"The official story is I slipped on the rocks at the castle," he said.
"And the unofficial story?"
He studied his plate, and instead of answering her he began picking at the remaining crusts. There was a storm in his eyes, ghosts that she wasn't sure if he was unable or unwilling to share. She remembered a time, years back when Luna had first found them, when Mamoru had worn a similar look. Before their memories had started to return, when he hadn't even had a guardian cat to guide them through the chaotic world they had been thrown into. When all he had to go on was a mysterious Princess in his dreams that had called out to him to find the ginzuishou.
She reached out, gently pulling his hand away from the crumbs of his sandwich to once again link their fingers. She had never really been one for public displays, but she also had never really had the chance to know otherwise, either. She was learning she liked the feeling of his hand in hers. When he turned that troubled gaze back to her, she smiled at him.
"Why don't we get out of here? We could go up to the castle, and you can tell me what you remember there," she said. His eyes glazed over again, and his grip tightened on her hand.
"The castle's important, isn't it?" he asked. She hated how scared he sounded. "All this time…Ami, you're real, aren't you?"
"What?" she asked, surprised. The fear had crept into his eyes.
"I told you once there was a ghost at the castle," he said, "and I get the feeling that…you're not the ghost, are you? You're real, right?"
She wanted to laugh, but looking at him she knew to do so would be cruel. So she stood and used their joined hands to pull him to his feet. Before she could second guess herself, she leaned up and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.
"There was never a ghost, Zane," she said gently, "but I think I can tell you what really happened, if you'd like. And yes, I'm very real."
– V –
Years ago, he had told her a story as they had made the climb to the wall-walk. And when he remained silent, even after leaving the town behind, she decided that maybe this time she should tell him a story. They stood outside what had once been the gates, now no more than a crumbling wall marking the perimeter of the ruins. She knew the monster from before was gone, but there was a different sort of monster lingering beyond the gate now. He had once told her the castle was haunted.
She didn't think he had ever realized how right he was, even now.
"The first time you brought me here, I remember thinking I would be happy if I could come to call this place home," she said. Their hands were still linked – had been linked the entire journey from the pub – and so she gave his a reassuring squeeze. "I had already fallen in love with the king. Loving his land and people weren't so far a stretch after that."
"The first time…" he started, but he shook his head as he looked back to the castle. "The first time I took you here, you asked me why I was wearing a skirt and almost left me on the wall-walk because I tried to convince you it was haunted."
"That was the first time Zane took Ami here," she corrected gently. "I'm talking about the first time Zoisite brought Brigid here."
His eyes widened at the names. She released his hand and walked through the gate, pausing to rest her hand against the worn stone. She smiled sadly as she remembered the structure it had once been.
"Do you remember the story you told me, back then? When we were kids and I asked you why you were wearing a skirt?" she asked. Though her words were serious, there was a gentle, teasing undertone woven throughout them. She glanced back at him, a wry smile quirking her lips. He was wearing another kilt today, though this one was a simple black and lacked any real ornamentation.
"I told you the castle had belonged to my ancestor, who had fallen in love with one of the daoine maithe. He died, but she haunted the castle," he said. She frowned.
"Doy ni ma?" she asked, frowning as she tried – and failed – to repeat the term. He chuckled and walked over to her, his arms folded over his chest.
"The Good People," he explained. "Faerie. At least that's what the legends said."
"You didn't think she was a d…dwoy…a faerie back then," she said, and he chuckled as her tongue tripped over the bit of Irish.
"Dwoyn-ee ma-ha," he said slower, tapping her nose. She rolled her eyes, and he winked at her. "Points for trying, though. I don't know what I thought back then, to be honest. I…I still don't really think she was, but I don't think she was human, either. Maybe she was a goddess. You did call her Brigid."
"She wasn't," she laughed, "though you always tried to tell me otherwise."
"And you said you weren't the ghost," he quipped, lifting a brow at her, "but there you go with those personal pronouns again. So, tell me, mo chara…who exactly are you, and what do you know about Zoisite?"
"It's complicated," she said as they continued to walk. And she wasn't trying to evade the question, but she didn't know how to answer him. Where could she even begin? And was it better to just tell him everything, or should he remember on his own? Would telling him trigger the memories? Would it prevent him from remembering at all?
"Then let's start with what I know," he said, kicking at a pebble on the path. "I guess it starts with that coma I was telling you about? I told you I was having dreams. The dreams kind of started then, when I woke up from the coma. Or…maybe they started a bit before? I don't really know. Feels like I've had 'em forever."
"You said you fell on the rocks," she reminded him, and he nodded.
"Yeah, except I know these ruins inside out, right? Doesn't make sense that I'd just…fall. But thanks to the brain damage, I don't really remember what did happen. The doctors and garda just went with the excuse that made the most sense," he said. He closed his eyes and sighed. "I…I don't just dream, Ami. Sometimes they're nightmares. Remember how I told you I thought the king in the legends died because of a witch? I think I saw her. I saw something, at least, that scared me. That's what made me fall. I don't remember a lot, but I know that much."
"You did say the castle was haunted," she said, but he shook his head.
"Nah, but I know that ghost. And after the dreams…I don't think she's really a ghost? Just…me remembering somebody important," he offered, waving his hand around the ruins. "Like…right now. I look around, aye, and I see a crumbling castle. I know these rocks and stones are falling apart around us. But I look, and I see her walking through a garden. Or that window up there? She's watching me. I used to see her on the wall-walk all the time. She kept looking out at the sea. I used to think she was waiting for her king to come home."
"She came here when she heard of his death," she said quietly. He turned wide eyes to her, but she couldn't look at him. "When Prince Endymion came to tell them about the ambush, she came here. They told her not to – the Earth wasn't safe anymore, and it was too dangerous with…but I had to know. I couldn't believe…and I stood on that wall, waiting for you to return when I knew you wouldn't."
His hand brushed against her cheek, and she was startled to realized she was crying. She laughed weakly, trying to smile for him as she reached up and wiped the tears away. He frowned as she apologized and asked him to continue.
"I…so I've had the dreams for a while," he finally said, somewhat awkwardly as he leaned against the wall beside her. "Then a few months back, I woke up one morning to find this on my dresser." He held up his wrist, showing her the stone she had noticed the night before. "I didn't know what it was at first, but I knew it was important. I started wearing it, and the dreams got worse. There was this kid…Helios? He told me my name was Zoisite, and it was my duty to protect the Prince. I had to find the girl in my dreams, and she could take me to the Prince. He showed me how to use the stone, and he told me to keep it safe. That it would be important later."
"Has he spoken to you often, or just the once?" she asked.
"Just once," he answered. "He said the memories would start to come back, but I wouldn't remember everything until I found the Prince. 'Don't lose heart,' he said, 'she will find you again, and then you will fulfill your destiny.' And I assumed 'she' was the girl in my dreams. You."
They lapsed into an easy silence as they began walking through the castle. Somehow, without either realizing it, they found themselves once more making the climb to the wall. When they once again stood on the walk, facing out towards the sea, she reached once more for his hand.
"You are Zoisite, and Zoisite was the king that lived here," she finally said. "It's…complicated, like I said, but essentially…you were the king of this land, but you were also a guardian of the Crown Prince that ruled the entire Earth."
"Endymion…" he murmured, and she nodded.
"I…was not from Earth," she said. He smiled slightly at that, and she rolled her eyes. "I was the princess of Mercury, but I was born a Senshi. It was my duty to protect Princess Serenity of the Moon. Your Prince fell in love with my Princess, and then…"
"We fell in love?" he guessed, and she laughed at how simple – how cliché – it sounded.
"More or less," she said. "It was all rather poetic, actually. They fell in love, and then their guards fell in love." She paused, her expression darkening as she looked out at the sea. "And then the Shadow appeared, and it destroyed everything. You were right, Zane. There was a witch. And a war. And we all died."
It was the simple version of things, but she didn't want to go into more detail than that. He would remember in time, and she would be there for him when he did. But for now…she didn't want to remember, not standing where she was. She didn't want to face those demons today.
"But Queen Serenity used the ginzuishou to save us all," she finally continued, "and she sent us here, to be reborn as normal people. To live normal lives. But when I was fourteen, the Shadow returned. The Senshi were awakened with orders to find the Moon Princess and the ginzuishou. We didn't remember everything at first, but as we grew stronger…when we found Princess Serenity and the crystal…things started to come back."
"You're not telling me everything," he said accusingly. He was looking at her with a half-hearted glare, and she laughed as she rubbed her palms against her eyes.
"What do you want me to tell you, Zane? That before Zoisite died he was captured by the witch, and that she turned him against us? That Zoisite returned, a demon in his own right, and killed so many people on the Moon before he killed Brigid, as well?" she asked. She felt him tense beside her, and she lowered her hands to stare helplessly at the sea. She couldn't look at him. "That in this life, when we were supposed to get our second chance and be normal, we found each other and didn't even realize it? That before you could return to your Prince the witch snatched you up again, and the first time I saw Zoisite in this life he was trying to kill me?"
"I don't like this story," he mumbled, and she laughed derisively as she wiped at her eyes again.
"No, I didn't think you would," she quipped. She sighed as she gripped the wall, closing her eyes and bowing her head. "I believe you'll remember in time. Probably once you see Mamoru – isn't that what Helios told you? I didn't…I didn't want to tell you everything. It didn't seem fair."
"But you remember," he accused. Her lips quirked in a slight smile.
"Because I've been fighting for this planet since I was fourteen. I've had time to remember," she said. "You…Helios said I would take you to the Prince. I think that's the key to unlocking your memories. So…I can tell you what I know, or I can do what Helios instructed and bring you home. I won't force you either way. The choice is yours."
"You know this Helios, then?" he asked. "You trust him?"
She almost laughed at that.
"Yes," she said instead. He sighed and tipped his head back, smiling slightly as he stared at the sky. A bird cried out as it flew above them, and his shoulders dropped as he relaxed against the wall.
"Well," he finally said, closing his eyes. "Guess there's nothing for it, then."
"Pardon?"
"I need to find the Prince, don't I? And I already told you: I've been in love with you since we were kids. Since before, apparently," he joked. He cracked an eye open and smiled at her. "You really think I have a choice in the matter? Of course I'm going with you."
"Zane…just because that's who you were doesn't mean that's who you are," she said. She wrapped her arms around her middle, hugging herself against the cold. "We've all had to face that choice. Just because we were soldiers back then doesn't mean we have to be now. Queen Serenity gave us this second chance to be normal."
"And yet you said it yourself," he pointed out kindly, smiling as he rested his hand against her cheek. "You've been fighting for this planet since you were fourteen. I get that the choice is mine, Ami, but saying that do you really think I could choose anything else?"
He pulled her against him, hugging her as he rested his head against her own. She burrowed closer to him, and he said, "If last night showed you anything it should be that, even when we're stuck in the middle of normal, we don't get normal. But I think that's not so bad, when not being normal means we're actually fighting for something worthwhile. If it means I get to not be normal with you."
"Incorrigible," she muttered, her voice muffled against his chest, and he laughed as he dropped a kiss against the top of her head.
"Only for you, mo chara," he quipped. He tilted her head up, grinning again as he bent down and kissed her nose. He was pleased to see the red staining her cheeks from the gesture. "Only for you. Now, when do we leave?"
Additional Notes
Sláinte: Literally "health", but used as a drinking toast.
Redcap: Also called a Powrie or a Dunter. A malevolent creature said to haunt the ruined castles along the borders between England and Scotland. Will murder stray travelers who trespass into their homes. Namesake refers to the caps they wear (which, according to some lore, are made of human skin) that must be continuously dipped in fresh blood lest the Powrie die.
Taoiseach: Translating to "chieftain" or "leader", the official title of Ireland's Prime Minister. In O.R. Melling's Chronicles of Faerie, it is also used as the official title of the hereditary kings of Ireland – the clan leaders, etc. – that maintain the relationship between Ireland and Faerie. I use it in that sense here: while Zane doesn't actually hold any political power (yet), he is recognized through lineage by the older townsfolk – and the Powrie – to be someone of importance/their leader.
The song Zane is singing is called "Whiskey in the Jar". There's this fun bit of lore that says some of the traditional tunes of Ireland were originally from Faerie and we have them thanks to people who overheard them being sung by Fae. Our versions, of course, are nowhere near as they should be, and it's said the Good People get offended if they overhear them being sung by mortals – hence Zane using one to draw out the Powrie. Musha ring dumma do, dumma da~