Chapter 10: What Can You Say?
*To any of my readers living in cities like mine (Minneapolis/St. Paul) experiencing riots and protests, I hope you and yours stay safe. Things in the world (and my work life) are frustrating, overwhelming, and nerve-wracking. Still, I hope this story gives you a respite from all of that, even for just a moment.
ScatterBRAIN-95, I actually did base Mac Dohmnail slightly off the Scotsman from Samurai Jack. :D
Please review. Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, just the OCs.*
"Are those children mad? ! Voluntarily consorting with Soul Reapers?"
"And they dare to call themselves Quincies, disgraceful."
"If this is the best the lineage can give us, perhaps we should cut our losses and start with a new line."
Despite expecting such reactions, Seiichi Matsuro still sighed. Setsuna never made things easy, and neither had Soken, but at least he was apologetic about it. Now their grandchildren were following in their disruptive footsteps. His wife, Fiona, slipped her slim hands around his arm and gave him a sympathetic smile. I know, dear, she seemed to say.
"Please calm yourselves, all of you. The world is not ending, so there is no need to take rash action." He said firmly to the other council members who were either glaring or trying not to have a conniption. "They may not have been what we expected, but is that disastrous a development? They are young and were raised far differently than any of us and have experienced things we can scarcely imagine." Like fighting a war in the land of Hollows and living to tell of it.
The five of them were gathered around in the salon that Matsuro sat in with Naoko and Uryu just yesterday. He and his wife stood while the other three sat. They had heard about their arrival and asked (demanded) to meet the prospective prince and princess. Instead of lying about their absence, Matsuro told the truth, and this was the result.
"You are certain these children belong to Queen Tsukihana?"
Phillip Martin was the one to voice that question. He sat in an armchair almost in front of Matsuro like a king before his subject. He and Martin had been at odds since Matsuro stepped foot in Germany all those decades ago. Martin was the epitome of traditional, conservative, and amoral ambition. His two allies, though minions would be more apt, sat at either side on the couches, Mariya Kohut and Robert Van Alphen. The three were of similar minds, though Setsuna had been able to sway the latter two into believing her identity.
"Yes, I am," Matsuro firmly affirmed. "They descend not only from her line but three other powerful noble bloodlines. They have more strength and purity than any of us."
He hated having to pander like this by playing up lineage purity, but if it worked, he would not complain. Setsuna wanted her grandchildren to have a choice in taking up their birthright or not. While the teens had not decided, Matsuro would keep the door open until they did. That and he would be damned if Martin let any of his brood have that kind of power.
Matsuro would preferably dismantle the monarchy before letting that happen.
"My grandchildren come from multiple pure lines as well, and they do not flagrantly associate with Soul Reapers." Martin argued, "They know what is expected of them and are prepared. You give us two children who have a poor understanding of their own culture and what it takes to led. You pick them because they come from the original line, and that line has run its course. Perhaps a new family should lead now lest we die out like our Eastern counterparts."
Fiona lightly cleared her throat; demure woman she might be she could command a room with enviable ease. "While your grandchildren do exhibit admirable qualities befitting a Quincy, two of them are the same age as Her Majesty's grandchildren and thus too young to rule. Your other two grandchildren have qualities and shortcomings that make consorting with Soul Reapers pale in comparison."
"Despite all that, they would still be more suited than what you have given us. These foreign children care little for us, our culture, and our way of life." Martin accentuated his last point with a sharp tap of his cane on the floor.
"You haven't even met them, and yet you judge them?" Matsuro asked, frustration tightening his voice. Years working with these people and the political never got any easier. "At the very least, wait to cast your judgments until you've met them."
"Aside from the fact that's what we came here to do today?" Van Alphen muttered.
The others ignored him. Martin said stiffly, "Very well, Matsuro, we will wait until we can meet them and decide if they are worthy of even being called Quincies, let alone royalty."
"Put your back into it, boy!" Mac Dohmnail roared has he crashed his sword into Ichigo's.
The force of the blow drove him back, and before the burly man could strike again, Renji leaped up and whipped Zabimaru. Renji's attack put some space between them, giving Ichigo a chance to catch his breath. While fighting strong opponents was nothing new, such fights still took their toll.
"You weren't thinking of using, you know," Renji gestured to his face. The snake behemoth hovered just above his head.
"I wasn't planning on it," Ichigo watched the captain pick himself up, grinning underneath the blood and bruises. "I don't know how people here would take to someone like that, they might freak out."
Renji looked up and called out, "Still time to jump in, Naoko."
She planted hands on hips and huffed, "You two have fought worse, now finish him."
"I ain't fighting no lil' lassie." Mac Dohmnail spat in the ground, "There's no challenge in fighting a girl, I'd rather have a woman like sweet Alice. Oh, I'd like to take a tumble with her and in the sack rather than the training pit."
Twitterson rolled his eyes, "Charbonneau would rather hack off your manhood and feed it to the goats." Naoko gave him a surprised look, and he clarified, "Captain of the Tenth Division, a real beauty, but also a right terror if crossed. She doesn't suffer fools and shows no mercy."
"Screw this," Ichigo swung his ebony sword and cried, "Getsuga Tenshō!"
An arc of blue-white energy rocketed straight for Mac Dohmnail, who didn't move out of its way. Instead, he grinned and held up his sword to block it. The energy struck and, despite his strength, was sent careening in the air. Zabimaru rose high in the air, turned its head down, and fired a bolt of blood-red energy down on the captain. The force of the impact created a substantial crater.
Mac Dohmnail blearily opened his eyes and saw the point of Ichigo's black blade nearly touching his nose and Zabimaru's head hovering just above him.
Instead of being angry, he threw his head back and laughed, "Alright, lads, you got me. A bit shameful for you to use your Second Release when I'm barely using my First Release. So, what is it you want to ask me?"
Ichigo shook his head and jerked his thumb over his shoulder, "Not us, her."
"The scrawny whelp? What has she— ack!"
Naoko leaped and rammed her knee into the older man's face. He fell on his back like a stone, and she dusted off her pants like it was nothing. Twitterson gaped at the scene while Ichigo and Renji shrugged and retracted their Bankais.
"Call me scrawny one more time, and I'll shove my knee right through your head."
Mac Dohmnail chuckled as he sat up, blood steadily streaming from his broken nose. "With that fire, maybe I should've fought you instead. Alright, what is it you want to ken, lass?"
"Whatever you know about the Soul Reapers meant to protect the royal Quincy family. My family."
Any trace of joviality on Mac Dohmnail's face vanished. He scowled darkly, "And why do you want to know about those bloody traitors?"
"Because they betrayed and killed my family, and they tried to finish the job by offing my brother and me," she explained curtly, crossing her arms over chest. "Now, what do you know?"
He spat at the ground, "They're traitors by killing those they swore to protect. Killing humans… we may be called gods but only of death, not life. We have no right to take human lives, something your lot didn't seem to understand."
The last part was directed at Ichigo and Renji, accompanied by a vicious glare.
"Hey, that was way before either of us," Ichigo defended. "None of that was our fault."
Mac Dohmnail rolled his eyes, "Maybe no' you personally, but your lot as a whole."
Getting back on topic, Naoko asked, "Did you know anyone who was picked to protect my family?"
"No one that matters," he hefted himself up onto his feet using his immense broadsword.
He towered over Naoko, but so did Zaraki and Harumi making her immune to being intimidated by people taller than her. He smirked at her steadfast defiance and lumbered away, but then paused and without turning around said.
"My lieutenant, former, I should say. Bloody bastard, he had an admirable lust for battle, but he didn't take kindly to being ordered by those he saw weaker than him or richer than him." He huffed a tired, bitter laugh, "Don't know why anyone'd pick him or why'd he even go, but he did… and fucked all of us over."
Something in his tone struck Naoko as familiar. The sound of someone trying to cover up the true depths of their emotions about a particular matter. "You really cared about him, didn't you?"
His broad body froze stiffly, and that answered her question. "Get the hell out of my Division before I throw you lot out myself."
"What happened was a tragedy, a shameful one."
Captain Sante sighed and set his teacup down on its saucer. Lieutenant Silveria sat beside him on the plush pastel couch, gnawing on a cookie. He gently stroked her wild flaming mane of hair as if petting a cat. Uryu, Rukia, Nemu, and Rosenberg sat on the matching couches around the table, laden with tea and small snacks.
"But do you know why it happened?" Uryu asked. He tried to hide the impatience he felt steadily rising. The man was set on revealing things at his own pace, a snail's pace.
"Dissension in the ranks, perhaps?" He asked, tilting his head as though considering the answer to his own question. "Though, to understand the end of something, you must first understand its beginning."
The man talks in riddles, and I thought Urahara was maddening.
Nemu asked quietly, "How do you mean?"
"You can't understand death without understanding life. Ending and beginning, beginning and ending." His voice trailed off, looking up he saw their confused looks, "My apologies, I get lost in my own labyrinthian thoughts. What I mean is there are times you can deduce how something will end right at the beginning.
"As a show of good faith and solidarity Head Captain Glyndower chose six Soul Reapers, well seven if you count their leader, to act as personal guards for the royal Quincy family. She thought it would show that in this land, the two sides could work together, a success she hoped it to be so she could lord it over your Head Captain."
Uryu's face darkened slightly, "So it was more about Glyndower making herself appear to be nobler than Yamamoto? She didn't care at all about making peace with my kind?"
Sante sipped his tea and answered, "I would not be so quick to say that. True, her decision was for her image, but I genuinely believe she wanted to protect your ancestors."
"But why, though?" Rukia asked. "I'm not saying she can't be selfless, but taking six, seven high-ranking Soul Reapers and making them guards to one family, even of royalty, seems odd."
Uryu thought of that too. Going to those lengths to help his ancestors seemed a bit much… unless there was something bigger behind it all. Something Glyndower wanted from his family that they refused to give, or her "gift" of those Soul Reapers was more about keeping them in line.
Of course, that's what it was. A cynical, paranoid part of him thought. The part that still valued his Quincy pride over everything else in life. The part that was still bitter over the loss of his grandfather and culture. She probably wanted something from us or to have people on hand in case our people made any trouble. Simpler to nip a problem with the scissors right there. Soul Reapers don't care about any lives, but their own.
Uryu immediately stamped down on that last thought. No, not all Soul Reapers are like that. His eyes slide to Nemu and Rukia. Some honestly do care. "When did she assign these Soul Reapers?"
"A decade or two before your kind were so systematically wiped out," Sante said lightly.
Nemu furrowed her brows and murmured, "That was not very long ago. Why then?"
"I'd bet it was because of rising tensions between Quincies and Soul Reapers." He leaned over and confided. "She might not have wanted tension like that sprouting over here."
Uryu turned his attention to Sante, "A sign of faith, you said? Or was it really to keep them from trying to help those Quincies in my home country?"
Sante's smile was coy but sharply edged. "You're a cunning one, aren't you? As I said, it was for a show of good faith and trust, but if there were any hidden meanings, who can say?"
"You very well could," Rosenberg interjected. "Don't give me that look, your network of little birds is more informed and connected than Captain Matahari's spies, and he runs the Stealth Force."
"You give me too much credit, Lieutenant," Sante chuckled. "I will admit if I didn't have such a love for science and knowledge, well, who knows where I'd be. To answer your question, young man, it is entirely possible. Although from what I've heard unnecessary because your ancestors here did nothing to help your poor people out east. If they left the European continent, then they would be leaving the protection of Head Captain Glyndower and would be at Head Captain Yamamoto's mercy… or lack of it."
That left Uryu feeling unsettled. Logically, he could understand not wanting to put more lives at risk, but at the expense of a third of your people? He couldn't imagine letting all those Quincies die and not do something.
"Do you know why these guards betrayed their charges?" Nemu asked, drawing back to the original point of their conversation.
"Do you mean the first or the second time?"
"Wait, what?"
"Well, those Soul Reapers first betrayal was the killing of the king and queen in 1912, though officially they were assassinated by unknown assailants."
"We weren't even told that much," Rosenberg said with faint indignity. "Only that they had unexpectedly died from natural causes."
"If you count a sword through the chest as natural," Sante said dryly. "Glyndower was furious when it happened, but she kept it from everyone else. A matter concerning pride, I believe."
"I suppose it was because she didn't want anyone to know her thoughtful gesture bit her in the backside," Uryu remarked sharply.
Sante refilled his teacup, "You really are astute, I like you. But by covering up the problem, it only returned to bite her more severely when the king and queen's children and their families were murdered next."
He looked at Rosenberg, "That's the betrayal everyone is familiar with. Oh, we went out to find the culprits, but alas, they escaped."
"Do you happen to know the names of these people?" Rukia asked. "We'd like to at least know the name of our enemies."
"I can do you one better," Sante then kindly addressed his lieutenant. "Nantosuelta, could you be a dear and get me a pen and paper? I find sharing information is easier when it is written down."
The little girl happily scampered off to her task. Rosenberg impassively gazed at the captain, "And what do you want in return? I know you believe knowledge should be shared for free, but nothing is ever free."
He lazily shrugged, "So cynical, but true. Perhaps an exchange of information then? I would like to know more about the inner workings of the eastern Court Guard Squads for comparison."
Rukia and Nemu exchanged glances, and the latter asked, "What would you like to know?"
*This ended up being longer than I thought it'd be. I hope you still liked it. I also made two tiny Game of Thrones refences here, good luck finding them. I'll try to update again June 19th.*
