title: Elusive Thoughts | Chapter 5
rating: PG
author: Mir
email: incandescence@juno.com
website: http://cathedraldragon.tripod.com/sm/
disclaimer: Sailor Moon, et al. belongs to Naoko Takeuchi,
etc., etc., and so on and so forth ^_^. The other characters
belong to me...for whatever that's worth. I have no money
to speak of, so suing me will not make you rich. Yes, and
this story was inspired by Melanie Rawn's *Dragon Prince*.
Kudos to her, it's an excellent novel.
AN: I know there are some unanswered questions about
~who~ Ariane and the girls really are and ~what~ they can
do. If you're read the *Dragon Prince* you can think of
them as the Sunrunners with a twist. If you haven't read
the book you'll have to wait for me to explain. ~evil grin~
Think of it as a kinds of enigma...I promise that it'll be
crystal clear by the time this story is finished. :).
*Chapter 5*
It had been a month, a month of long nights and dull days, a month of
listless longing and repeated disappointment. He'd slouched at his desk, chin
in hands, staring blankly off into the distance - for hours at a time. Even Andrew
had noted that the Prince seemed to be more distracted than usual 'if that's
possible' he'd joked with a laugh. But Darien had to admit that there was truth
in the accusation. His heart would beat faster every time he saw her in the halls,
every time he heard her laughter, every time he saw her flying pigtails disappear
around a corner ahead of him. She'd sent Justin back to him so many times that
he'd stopped putting the squire in the awkward position of calling on her. She'd
said that she had work to do, that Ariane was teaching her how to gain better
control over her abilities. Darien was sure that she was avoiding him.
And when he asked himself why he didn't insist that she meet with him
he had to admit, with painful honesty, that her display at the dinner had scared
him. 'She did it without ever thinking of the consequences. And she did it for
me because she thought that I was in danger'. He knew it was foolish, but he
didn't ever want to be the cause, the reason for Serena to break her vow - of
never using the moonlight to kill. 'Ariane would disown her for sure...and she'd
lose her title, her right to an equal seat as Princess of the Desert'. For the
women whom the Goddess chose as Her own, those to whom She granted the
ability to tame the moonlight, those mysterious individuals that children idolized
and their parents feared - had equal status as the titled nobility in the eye of the
Desert Law.
But now, as the Desert train set forth across the drifting sands, commencing
the journey to the Caucus, Darien knew that she had nowhere to hide. Ariane
was riding beside him - he was surprised that she'd decided to stay at Crystal
Castle and attend the Caucus instead of returning back to tend her fires. But one
could never second guess Ariane, not even him. "You're angry at her, aren't you?"
she asked, guiding her mount closer so they could speak in private. "You know
she didn't have a choice."
Darien scowled, he'd know, but he hadn't accepted it. "She could have at
least written a note." Daffyd shook his head, mirroring his rider's agitation.
"She's frightened, Darien. You had an entire childhood to get used to all those
peoples' eyes...and they have no prejudice against you." He bit his lip, seeing
the truth in Ariane's words, knowing how ill-based his anger was. "It's hard on
her, and she's lonely. Talk to her, Darien, let her know you'll be there when she
needs you."
- - - - - - - - - -
Serena pulled her hood down over her face, hoping that he wouldn't try
to seek her out on the way to the Caucus. She hadn't wanted to go...didn't want
to see him flirting with High Prince Raonus's daughters...didn't want him to break
her heart, but she couldn't bear to be so far away from him either. She's avoided
him for the past month, escaping evasively from his requests to see her. She
knew they'd never be able to pull of the charade if they spent time together before.
'I hope he realizes that I'd never ignore him purposefully'.
"Serena." The call was light next to her ear, a soft breath drifting in the wind.
She knew he was there. "Darien, I'm sure whether this is a good idea." He didn't
leave. "Good idea, bad idea, what's the difference? I've missed you." Her resolve
threatened to melt, and she only barely managed to keep her eyes glued to her
saddle. "We'll never make it through the Caucus if we don't stay apart." She could
almost feel his relief, relief that she hadn't been avoiding him out of revenge or spite.
"I just want to see the High Prince's face on the last night...when I bring you into his
hall on my arm, dripping with diamonds." He reached over to sweep the hood from
her face, but she caught his hand in hers. "Please. Go...or we might do something
we'll later regret."
And before she realized what had happened, he was gone, disappeared
into the sea of multicolored wagons that stretched out before her, wagons slowly
making their way to lush green fields beyond the shifting sands.
- - - - - - - - - -
Darien looked out over the tents and sighed. Green and black for Prince
Laurent of Marintan, brown and orange for Prince Helder of Kerse, white and red
for Prince Taro of Domar, purple and gold for High Prince Raonus of Princemarche...
and so on an so forth. His own, flashing Desert blue and gold, were being erected
by hired workers, their size and number a visible sign of his lands wealth. 'Desert
gold' was a rumor spread from prince to prince, a rumor that the young Desert
Prince had unimaginable wealth hidden in caves. 'And they think that I'd just hide it
if I had it?' No, his parents had been eager conquerors, and his father's sword had
won gold enough to last a lifetime, but Darien knew that he wanted to secure his
future by law, not force; by treaty, not bloodshed.
He turned away from the helter-skelter havoc of the camp site and walked
along the lengthening shadows of late afternoon. The rich scents of midsummer
encircled him, so very different from the rough, dry winds of home. These caressed
one's frame instead of battering it. One foot landed in front of the previous, making
tracks down toward the river. Drawn by the familiar crash of rushing water, he
wandered in a dreamy state, thoughts lingering somewhere between sleep and
wakefulness.
And as he stood, contemplating and scheming, a flash of brown streaked
out from the brush and roughly tackled him to the ground. Face down in the mud,
Darien struggled underneath the weight of his tackler, eventually managing to free
himself. "Lita?! What the Hell do you think you're - " She put a finger to her lips
and glared at him. "Shh, I just saved your life; the least you could do is thank me."
They lay there, side by side at the edge of the river, the only sound the rapid
beating of their hearts, until Lita cleared her throat, signaling that the danger had
passed. As Darien used his sleeve to wipe the mud from his eyes she reached
behind her and pulled something out of the ground. She didn't have to say a word,
but merely held up the object - a delicately inscribed glass knife. "My God, it's a
Sheridian throwing knife...they - " Darien shook his head, lost for words. "It was
a warning; if your attacker had been throwing to kill, you'd be dead." Lita twirled
the knife pensively, its blade glimmering in the fading daylight.
Darien held his hand out to take it from her. "Lita, thank you. You're right,
I do owe you my life...even if it wasn't in danger today. I'm curious, though, how - "
She smiled and interjected, "Haven't you noticed yet? One of us has been trailing
you day and night since we left Crystal Castle, Ariane's orders." And while running
his fingers along the length of the blade, Darien sighed. "That would be just like her,
wouldn't it...and you were the lucky one today?" It was a rhetorical question, and
she didn't reply. "I don't think Sheridia would do something so overt on their own...
someone must have hired a mercenary." Lita nodded slowly, digestion the idea.
Sheridia was a small Princedom nestled high in the mountains between Domar and
Kerse. It was a notorious haven for criminals and outlaws. "We should probably
be heading back," she commented after a moment. Still deep in thought, Darien rose
and followed her lead.
Almost an hour later he was pacing back and forth underneath the blue canopy
of his tent. 'Who would gain something by having me scared...if Lita was correct in
thinking that the knife was aimed to scare, not kill?' He'd placed the weapon at the
bottom of his trunk, deciding not to tell Ariane; he didn't want to worry her. 'I didn't
even hear anyone coming, neither Lita nor the Sheridian'. He mused, angry at himself
for being so out to lunch. But by the time he crawled into bed he was no closer to
formulating a theory, no closer to determining an answer or a motive. He closed his
eyes and sunk into unconsciousness, his last thought drifting away into the night. 'I
must be on my guard...'.
- - - - - - - - - -
"What do you think of the Bay? The one with the odd markings on her
forelegs?" Andrew asked, looking over at Darien expectantly. "You think she's a
potential threat?" He was a topnotch horse breeder, traditionally taking home a fair
number of racing prizes at the Caucuses, and he enjoyed sizing up the competition.
Darien raised an eyebrow in skeptical amusement. "Oh, my great infallible
brother's worried now?" he joked. Then he squinted at the mare, scrutinizing her
with an experienced eye. "Couldn't hold a candle to your best, I guarantee it.
Whose is she, anyhow?"
"Lord B'rjared's, I think," Andrew replied offhandedly as he continued along
to the next stall. "Now, what do you think about this one..." And so the morning
progressed. The races would begin that afternoon, the official talks between Princes
the next - they'd last four days with the concluding feast on the evening of the fourth.
As Andrew continued tirelessly down the length of stalls, Darien let his mind wander
across the odd happenings of the previous evening. 'Many of the Princes would have
something to gain by having me scared. Someone might be trying to frighten me into
signing an alliance against Sheridia'.
"Darien? You falling asleep on me?" He, the accused, turned toward Andrew,
blinking blankly. "Say what?" The other smiled in triumph. "I knew it! You start to
get this look in your eyes that means I've lost you and you're drifting aimlessly about in
that crazy mind of yours. Whatcha thinking about?" Darien shook his head, muttering,
"Don't worry, it's nothing. I'm just tired, that's all." He managed a limp grin in
reassurance. "You were telling me about Emerich's Chestnut gelding, weren't you?"
- - - - - - - - - -
Serena clapped her hands gleefully and turned back to her companions. "Oh,
isn't this wonderful? Have you ever seen anything like it?" Hoards of people, from
the aristocratic nobility down to the barefooted stable hands, roamed from booth to
booth, shopping. None were above a little shoving to obtain a better view of the
available wares, and none were overly hesitant to open their purses, exchanging gold
for goods. Although the Princes came to the Caucus to negotiate, their vassals came
to the Caucus to shop.
Eyes wide with excitement, Serena dashed from booth to booth, her friends
struggling to keep up with her. Finally she paused at a cloth dealers' stand, elbows
resting on the counter as she talked with man. "Can I see that white bolt - over there,
top shelf?" She waited as he retrieved the fabric and placed the bolt before her. It
was embroidered white silk, light as a fluttering breeze. "Ooh, that's nice." Mina
leaned over Serena's shoulder and rubbed the edge of the fabric between her fingers.
"I need enough to make a dress. How much would that cost?" Serena continued,
ignoring the interruption. The dealer squinted for a moment, then replied. "forty-eight
will buy you enough."
Serena was slightly surprised, but was about to reply that she'd take it, when
a voice piped up behind her other shoulder. "It's not worth more that thirty-two."
She turned quickly, only to discover a smiling Ami. "What's that you say?" The man
said in response, apparently one for driving a hard bargain. "I said, it's not worth
more than thirty-two," Ami repeated quietly. "Yeah, you heard her," Rei interjected,
adding her support.
The dealer crossed his arms in front of his chest, smirking. "I'll give it to you
girls for forty even." Serena scowled. "We're ~not~ just girls, you know, we're - "
A hand on her mouth stopped her from finishing the sentence. "We'll give you thirty-
five," Rei countered. Switching her grasp to Serena's arm, she whispered, "What do
you think you're doing? If they know we're from Moonlight Keep they'll never sell us anything." "Thirty-nine, take it or leave it." The dealer replied, deciding to ignore
whatever internal power struggles his customers were dealing with. And before any
of her friends could answer for her, Serena proclaimed, "I'll take it."
Unknown to the girls, another party of shoppers was watching them with
undisguised disapproval. Berlyn turned to Elvira and said, in a voice just loud
enough for those nearby to hear, "Moonlight, shmoonlight, they might be the
Goddess's chosen, but they don't even know how to drive a good bargain." She
held her head high as she approached the booth, confidence in her step. "I heard
you all arrived here with the Desert train," she announced, disdain clearly coloring
her voice.
"And what of it?" Rei was the first one to react, eyes flashing in anger.
"What's it to you?" Berlyn chuckled lightly. "Oh, it's nothing to me. I was just
wondering why you're tagging along like some Prince Darian-fan-club. They've
always said you've certain powers, but now I see you're nothing more than a
bunch of adolescent girls." A small crowd of people had begun to develop
around the booth. Ignorant of the younger girls' status, they nonetheless
recognized the purple seal of the High Prince embroidered upon the older girls'
cloaks.
"Lady Berlyn, I don't think this is the place - " Ami said calmly, pulling the
other's name out of a mental list of important people whose names it would be
useful to know. "And why not? We all wear our alliances on our backs. What
gives you the right to remain anonymous?" the Berlyn replied. "We've just as
much right as the next person," Lita countered irritably. The two groups glared
at each other, both with accusations enough to fling but neither wanting to be the
first to flinch.
"Let me propose a bet." Serena said suddenly, breaking the stalemate.
"What kind of bet?" Berlyn responded, slightly suspicious. "I want to bet that
neither you nor any of your sisters will win Prince Darien." Berlyn grinned, rolling
her eyes. "And who do you think will 'win' him instead? You can't possibly
think that you have the slightest chance do you?" She paused for a moment,
reading Serena's reaction. "Ah, I see you do...very well, then. I'll wager all the
silver I have on...against - "
" - against this locket...and my right to keep my private affairs private,"
Serena replied, finishing the statement." Berlyn leaned forward to inspect the
locket Serena held in her hand before her, noting the excellent craftsmanship and
the unique inlaid pattern. "Done." She turned to leave, haughty confidence in her
expression. "I'll be expecting...your trinket at the last dinner of the Caucus."
And with that she disappeared into the crowd, Elvira at her heels. "What a pair
of snobs!" Mina proclaimed, shaking her head. "Are you finished buying that
silk, Serena? The horse races are going to begin any minute now, and I don't
want to miss a single second!"
*end of Chapter 5*
Oof, another chapter finished (and in record time as well!). Hope
you enjoyed...tell me if you liked it and want some more :). Do you want
to see more of a certain character? Do you have any ideas for my website?
Do you just want to say 'hi'? I promise that I don't bite.... I'm an intj from
Washington, DC - drop me a note and I promise I'll reply. ^_^
- Mir 12.23.00
.
rating: PG
author: Mir
email: incandescence@juno.com
website: http://cathedraldragon.tripod.com/sm/
disclaimer: Sailor Moon, et al. belongs to Naoko Takeuchi,
etc., etc., and so on and so forth ^_^. The other characters
belong to me...for whatever that's worth. I have no money
to speak of, so suing me will not make you rich. Yes, and
this story was inspired by Melanie Rawn's *Dragon Prince*.
Kudos to her, it's an excellent novel.
AN: I know there are some unanswered questions about
~who~ Ariane and the girls really are and ~what~ they can
do. If you're read the *Dragon Prince* you can think of
them as the Sunrunners with a twist. If you haven't read
the book you'll have to wait for me to explain. ~evil grin~
Think of it as a kinds of enigma...I promise that it'll be
crystal clear by the time this story is finished. :).
*Chapter 5*
It had been a month, a month of long nights and dull days, a month of
listless longing and repeated disappointment. He'd slouched at his desk, chin
in hands, staring blankly off into the distance - for hours at a time. Even Andrew
had noted that the Prince seemed to be more distracted than usual 'if that's
possible' he'd joked with a laugh. But Darien had to admit that there was truth
in the accusation. His heart would beat faster every time he saw her in the halls,
every time he heard her laughter, every time he saw her flying pigtails disappear
around a corner ahead of him. She'd sent Justin back to him so many times that
he'd stopped putting the squire in the awkward position of calling on her. She'd
said that she had work to do, that Ariane was teaching her how to gain better
control over her abilities. Darien was sure that she was avoiding him.
And when he asked himself why he didn't insist that she meet with him
he had to admit, with painful honesty, that her display at the dinner had scared
him. 'She did it without ever thinking of the consequences. And she did it for
me because she thought that I was in danger'. He knew it was foolish, but he
didn't ever want to be the cause, the reason for Serena to break her vow - of
never using the moonlight to kill. 'Ariane would disown her for sure...and she'd
lose her title, her right to an equal seat as Princess of the Desert'. For the
women whom the Goddess chose as Her own, those to whom She granted the
ability to tame the moonlight, those mysterious individuals that children idolized
and their parents feared - had equal status as the titled nobility in the eye of the
Desert Law.
But now, as the Desert train set forth across the drifting sands, commencing
the journey to the Caucus, Darien knew that she had nowhere to hide. Ariane
was riding beside him - he was surprised that she'd decided to stay at Crystal
Castle and attend the Caucus instead of returning back to tend her fires. But one
could never second guess Ariane, not even him. "You're angry at her, aren't you?"
she asked, guiding her mount closer so they could speak in private. "You know
she didn't have a choice."
Darien scowled, he'd know, but he hadn't accepted it. "She could have at
least written a note." Daffyd shook his head, mirroring his rider's agitation.
"She's frightened, Darien. You had an entire childhood to get used to all those
peoples' eyes...and they have no prejudice against you." He bit his lip, seeing
the truth in Ariane's words, knowing how ill-based his anger was. "It's hard on
her, and she's lonely. Talk to her, Darien, let her know you'll be there when she
needs you."
- - - - - - - - - -
Serena pulled her hood down over her face, hoping that he wouldn't try
to seek her out on the way to the Caucus. She hadn't wanted to go...didn't want
to see him flirting with High Prince Raonus's daughters...didn't want him to break
her heart, but she couldn't bear to be so far away from him either. She's avoided
him for the past month, escaping evasively from his requests to see her. She
knew they'd never be able to pull of the charade if they spent time together before.
'I hope he realizes that I'd never ignore him purposefully'.
"Serena." The call was light next to her ear, a soft breath drifting in the wind.
She knew he was there. "Darien, I'm sure whether this is a good idea." He didn't
leave. "Good idea, bad idea, what's the difference? I've missed you." Her resolve
threatened to melt, and she only barely managed to keep her eyes glued to her
saddle. "We'll never make it through the Caucus if we don't stay apart." She could
almost feel his relief, relief that she hadn't been avoiding him out of revenge or spite.
"I just want to see the High Prince's face on the last night...when I bring you into his
hall on my arm, dripping with diamonds." He reached over to sweep the hood from
her face, but she caught his hand in hers. "Please. Go...or we might do something
we'll later regret."
And before she realized what had happened, he was gone, disappeared
into the sea of multicolored wagons that stretched out before her, wagons slowly
making their way to lush green fields beyond the shifting sands.
- - - - - - - - - -
Darien looked out over the tents and sighed. Green and black for Prince
Laurent of Marintan, brown and orange for Prince Helder of Kerse, white and red
for Prince Taro of Domar, purple and gold for High Prince Raonus of Princemarche...
and so on an so forth. His own, flashing Desert blue and gold, were being erected
by hired workers, their size and number a visible sign of his lands wealth. 'Desert
gold' was a rumor spread from prince to prince, a rumor that the young Desert
Prince had unimaginable wealth hidden in caves. 'And they think that I'd just hide it
if I had it?' No, his parents had been eager conquerors, and his father's sword had
won gold enough to last a lifetime, but Darien knew that he wanted to secure his
future by law, not force; by treaty, not bloodshed.
He turned away from the helter-skelter havoc of the camp site and walked
along the lengthening shadows of late afternoon. The rich scents of midsummer
encircled him, so very different from the rough, dry winds of home. These caressed
one's frame instead of battering it. One foot landed in front of the previous, making
tracks down toward the river. Drawn by the familiar crash of rushing water, he
wandered in a dreamy state, thoughts lingering somewhere between sleep and
wakefulness.
And as he stood, contemplating and scheming, a flash of brown streaked
out from the brush and roughly tackled him to the ground. Face down in the mud,
Darien struggled underneath the weight of his tackler, eventually managing to free
himself. "Lita?! What the Hell do you think you're - " She put a finger to her lips
and glared at him. "Shh, I just saved your life; the least you could do is thank me."
They lay there, side by side at the edge of the river, the only sound the rapid
beating of their hearts, until Lita cleared her throat, signaling that the danger had
passed. As Darien used his sleeve to wipe the mud from his eyes she reached
behind her and pulled something out of the ground. She didn't have to say a word,
but merely held up the object - a delicately inscribed glass knife. "My God, it's a
Sheridian throwing knife...they - " Darien shook his head, lost for words. "It was
a warning; if your attacker had been throwing to kill, you'd be dead." Lita twirled
the knife pensively, its blade glimmering in the fading daylight.
Darien held his hand out to take it from her. "Lita, thank you. You're right,
I do owe you my life...even if it wasn't in danger today. I'm curious, though, how - "
She smiled and interjected, "Haven't you noticed yet? One of us has been trailing
you day and night since we left Crystal Castle, Ariane's orders." And while running
his fingers along the length of the blade, Darien sighed. "That would be just like her,
wouldn't it...and you were the lucky one today?" It was a rhetorical question, and
she didn't reply. "I don't think Sheridia would do something so overt on their own...
someone must have hired a mercenary." Lita nodded slowly, digestion the idea.
Sheridia was a small Princedom nestled high in the mountains between Domar and
Kerse. It was a notorious haven for criminals and outlaws. "We should probably
be heading back," she commented after a moment. Still deep in thought, Darien rose
and followed her lead.
Almost an hour later he was pacing back and forth underneath the blue canopy
of his tent. 'Who would gain something by having me scared...if Lita was correct in
thinking that the knife was aimed to scare, not kill?' He'd placed the weapon at the
bottom of his trunk, deciding not to tell Ariane; he didn't want to worry her. 'I didn't
even hear anyone coming, neither Lita nor the Sheridian'. He mused, angry at himself
for being so out to lunch. But by the time he crawled into bed he was no closer to
formulating a theory, no closer to determining an answer or a motive. He closed his
eyes and sunk into unconsciousness, his last thought drifting away into the night. 'I
must be on my guard...'.
- - - - - - - - - -
"What do you think of the Bay? The one with the odd markings on her
forelegs?" Andrew asked, looking over at Darien expectantly. "You think she's a
potential threat?" He was a topnotch horse breeder, traditionally taking home a fair
number of racing prizes at the Caucuses, and he enjoyed sizing up the competition.
Darien raised an eyebrow in skeptical amusement. "Oh, my great infallible
brother's worried now?" he joked. Then he squinted at the mare, scrutinizing her
with an experienced eye. "Couldn't hold a candle to your best, I guarantee it.
Whose is she, anyhow?"
"Lord B'rjared's, I think," Andrew replied offhandedly as he continued along
to the next stall. "Now, what do you think about this one..." And so the morning
progressed. The races would begin that afternoon, the official talks between Princes
the next - they'd last four days with the concluding feast on the evening of the fourth.
As Andrew continued tirelessly down the length of stalls, Darien let his mind wander
across the odd happenings of the previous evening. 'Many of the Princes would have
something to gain by having me scared. Someone might be trying to frighten me into
signing an alliance against Sheridia'.
"Darien? You falling asleep on me?" He, the accused, turned toward Andrew,
blinking blankly. "Say what?" The other smiled in triumph. "I knew it! You start to
get this look in your eyes that means I've lost you and you're drifting aimlessly about in
that crazy mind of yours. Whatcha thinking about?" Darien shook his head, muttering,
"Don't worry, it's nothing. I'm just tired, that's all." He managed a limp grin in
reassurance. "You were telling me about Emerich's Chestnut gelding, weren't you?"
- - - - - - - - - -
Serena clapped her hands gleefully and turned back to her companions. "Oh,
isn't this wonderful? Have you ever seen anything like it?" Hoards of people, from
the aristocratic nobility down to the barefooted stable hands, roamed from booth to
booth, shopping. None were above a little shoving to obtain a better view of the
available wares, and none were overly hesitant to open their purses, exchanging gold
for goods. Although the Princes came to the Caucus to negotiate, their vassals came
to the Caucus to shop.
Eyes wide with excitement, Serena dashed from booth to booth, her friends
struggling to keep up with her. Finally she paused at a cloth dealers' stand, elbows
resting on the counter as she talked with man. "Can I see that white bolt - over there,
top shelf?" She waited as he retrieved the fabric and placed the bolt before her. It
was embroidered white silk, light as a fluttering breeze. "Ooh, that's nice." Mina
leaned over Serena's shoulder and rubbed the edge of the fabric between her fingers.
"I need enough to make a dress. How much would that cost?" Serena continued,
ignoring the interruption. The dealer squinted for a moment, then replied. "forty-eight
will buy you enough."
Serena was slightly surprised, but was about to reply that she'd take it, when
a voice piped up behind her other shoulder. "It's not worth more that thirty-two."
She turned quickly, only to discover a smiling Ami. "What's that you say?" The man
said in response, apparently one for driving a hard bargain. "I said, it's not worth
more than thirty-two," Ami repeated quietly. "Yeah, you heard her," Rei interjected,
adding her support.
The dealer crossed his arms in front of his chest, smirking. "I'll give it to you
girls for forty even." Serena scowled. "We're ~not~ just girls, you know, we're - "
A hand on her mouth stopped her from finishing the sentence. "We'll give you thirty-
five," Rei countered. Switching her grasp to Serena's arm, she whispered, "What do
you think you're doing? If they know we're from Moonlight Keep they'll never sell us anything." "Thirty-nine, take it or leave it." The dealer replied, deciding to ignore
whatever internal power struggles his customers were dealing with. And before any
of her friends could answer for her, Serena proclaimed, "I'll take it."
Unknown to the girls, another party of shoppers was watching them with
undisguised disapproval. Berlyn turned to Elvira and said, in a voice just loud
enough for those nearby to hear, "Moonlight, shmoonlight, they might be the
Goddess's chosen, but they don't even know how to drive a good bargain." She
held her head high as she approached the booth, confidence in her step. "I heard
you all arrived here with the Desert train," she announced, disdain clearly coloring
her voice.
"And what of it?" Rei was the first one to react, eyes flashing in anger.
"What's it to you?" Berlyn chuckled lightly. "Oh, it's nothing to me. I was just
wondering why you're tagging along like some Prince Darian-fan-club. They've
always said you've certain powers, but now I see you're nothing more than a
bunch of adolescent girls." A small crowd of people had begun to develop
around the booth. Ignorant of the younger girls' status, they nonetheless
recognized the purple seal of the High Prince embroidered upon the older girls'
cloaks.
"Lady Berlyn, I don't think this is the place - " Ami said calmly, pulling the
other's name out of a mental list of important people whose names it would be
useful to know. "And why not? We all wear our alliances on our backs. What
gives you the right to remain anonymous?" the Berlyn replied. "We've just as
much right as the next person," Lita countered irritably. The two groups glared
at each other, both with accusations enough to fling but neither wanting to be the
first to flinch.
"Let me propose a bet." Serena said suddenly, breaking the stalemate.
"What kind of bet?" Berlyn responded, slightly suspicious. "I want to bet that
neither you nor any of your sisters will win Prince Darien." Berlyn grinned, rolling
her eyes. "And who do you think will 'win' him instead? You can't possibly
think that you have the slightest chance do you?" She paused for a moment,
reading Serena's reaction. "Ah, I see you do...very well, then. I'll wager all the
silver I have on...against - "
" - against this locket...and my right to keep my private affairs private,"
Serena replied, finishing the statement." Berlyn leaned forward to inspect the
locket Serena held in her hand before her, noting the excellent craftsmanship and
the unique inlaid pattern. "Done." She turned to leave, haughty confidence in her
expression. "I'll be expecting...your trinket at the last dinner of the Caucus."
And with that she disappeared into the crowd, Elvira at her heels. "What a pair
of snobs!" Mina proclaimed, shaking her head. "Are you finished buying that
silk, Serena? The horse races are going to begin any minute now, and I don't
want to miss a single second!"
*end of Chapter 5*
Oof, another chapter finished (and in record time as well!). Hope
you enjoyed...tell me if you liked it and want some more :). Do you want
to see more of a certain character? Do you have any ideas for my website?
Do you just want to say 'hi'? I promise that I don't bite.... I'm an intj from
Washington, DC - drop me a note and I promise I'll reply. ^_^
- Mir 12.23.00
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