4. In the Dueling Arena
After Potions had ended (thankfully), the trio walked out towards the woods. They had, after much discussion, determined that the large platform above the woods must be the "arena". Well, they hoped it was the arena.
"Look, here." Hermione said, as they reached a large, stone garden near the beginning of the woods. There were a few benches about, and at the end a huge stone gate. "There's a handle on this thing." She reached out with her left, unringed hand, and yanked, hard.
"It's locked." Harry said, and whipped out his wand. The charm for unlocking a door did nothing. Even Hermione's subtle talent couldn't budge the gate. Finally, Ron took to the brute approach, and began tugging on the handle. Nothing, still.
"How do we DUEL when we can't even get IN the place??" Ron yelled, frustrated. He switched hands for a better grip, and, as the ring came into alignment with the door, a peculiar sound was heard. Like a drop of water. "Cold!" Ron yelled, yanking his hand back away from the door. A clock began ticking loudly, somewhere unseen. "Water just dripped.. sideways onto my ring…" he said, slowing as torrents of the same substance began coming out of the walls of the garden, filling the lower channels of the stone floor with water.
When the mist cleared, the gate had become an archway, topped by a gigantic stone rose. Through the darkened archway, wide stairs could be seen.
"Wow." Was the reaction, more or less, of Harry, Ron AND Hermione. Ron was, eventually, the first to cross the threshold of the gate. He looked upwards, and gasped. Above him, the stairway curled around a single pillar, which supported the platform that'd appeared that first morning.
Harry and Hermione, not far behind, joined him in amazement. "Well, I suppose this is our invitation to climb..?" Harry said, looking up at what must have been thousands of steps.
And climb they did. Up, up, ever and ever upwards. The school grounds sank slowly behind them. Ron noticed he was walking as if in a haze; he wasn't tired at all, and his mind seemed to be elsewhere. Hermione felt rested as she climbed, like a deep sleep. The walking didn't take any toll on any of them, in fact, Harry noticed. Usually, he would be panting and begging to stop after climbing a vertical mile.
And the mile was almost over. Ron, again first, reached the top of the stairs, and gave another of what was becoming a common place gasp. The entire platform was a field of deep red roses.
Standing in the middle were Anthy and Satoru. Strangely dressed.
Anthy wore what might have been a lovely ball gown, if not for the fact that the skirt was open in the front. Under that first skirt, she wore a long, slinky white and red dress. The entire outfit, in fact, was a combination of white and reddish pink colors. In her flowing purple hair, a golden crown perched, and she held a bouquet of roses up to her chin.
Satoru was clad in something of an oldentimey army uniform, with buckles and shoulder pads galore. He was glaring across the roses, and when he saw Ron come over the crest of the stairs, he called out.
"One is not permitted to duel without a sword!" Ron stopped in his tracks. "Pity!" Satoru taunted, beginning to walk closer. He seemed to ignore Harry and Hermione, who hung back on the steps. Ron looked about for a moment, and then raised his wand.
"Accio Sword!" he called loudly, and, interestingly enough, there was a long practice blade in his hands, the kind used in fencing. Satoru laughed.
"Anthy! Prepare the Duel." He called to the girl, who approached the center of the arena. Ron followed, peering about in a bit of doubt.
"Does he.. know how to use that?" Hermione asked Harry, slightly disturbed. Anthy approached Satoru, and pinned a light red yellow to the lapel of his jacket.
"I don't think so." Harry said, queasily. The idea of Ron being sliced from gullet to gizzard wasn't appealing to him. Anthy fairly glided across the roses to Ron, and pinned a bright reddish-orange blossom to the patch on his robes.
"The one to have their bosom rose knocked off first wins." She said simply, and slid her return journey to Satoru's side. There, as lights seemed to dim in the sky, and in the castle that floated, like a ghost, above all, she whispered an incantation:
"Oh rose of the noble castle
Oh power of Dios that slumbers within me
Harken to thy master!"
As she spoke, and bent backwards like a gymnast, a light began to grow on her chest, between hands that cupped the shining thing, brighter every moment. And then Satoru reached into the light, dipping her ever backwards with a well guided hand upon her spine. "Grant me the power of the world revolution!" he called, and from that shining point produced a long, ornate sword.
"What." Was Ron's reaction. He'd run out of wows by that time, and was resorting to another W-beginning word.
"Let us begin." Satoru said, and lunged towards Ron's breast rose. Ron dived out of the way and hit the flora rolling.
"What's going on??!" Hermione yelled, as Ron jumped out of the way of more and more strikes. He was in a serious panic, as Satoru laughed. Ron was being pushed further and further back with every one of Satoru's strokes.
"What's wrong? Can't use a sword?" the green haired boy laughed, as he struck again towards Ron's rose. Ron, wincing, brought his practice sword around and swung it against Satoru's beautiful sword.
The sound of wood hitting the long blade resounded throughout the flat garden. Satoru's sword was knocked away, his hand followed it to hang, swinging limply, from his side. And Ron, whose blade was inches away from the other boy's chest, stretched a little, and sliced the flower off of it's stem.
Things happened very strangely after that. Satoru dropped the sword, and ran off of the platform, down the stairs and out of sight. Anthy, who was still standing in the center of the platform, looked at Ron for a moment, and then, flowing in her stately gait, walked down the stairs as well. The trio of friends was left completely alone in the garden.
"That was… so strange." Ron said, a few minutes later, as he walked into the castle. He, Hermione and Harry, had been debating the duel above the school ever since they found their voices again. After the spectacle on the platform, it was hard to speak.
"I'm going to the library until curfew; I want to read up on magical swords." Hermione said, waving as she turned down a corridor.
"I think I'll go write a letter to Snuffles.." Harry said, turning to follow Hermione, and give news to his god-father.
So Ron was left alone, to climb up to the Gryffindor Dorms. He entered the 5th year boys room, panting from the stairs that plagued him so, and came face to face with eyes less empty than they had been.
In the otherwise deserted room, Anthy was sitting on his bed. How she had figured out which was his, Ron couldn't tell. But there she was, dressed in her school robes again, and smiling at him.
"Wh-wh-what are you here for..?" Ron said, stuttering as Anthy rose to speak to him.
"I'm here for you, Ron, Sir." She said, her long eyelashes batting in the semi-darkness. He backed away, looking at the girl strangely.
"What do you mean…?" he asked, looking around. There was definitely no one else in the room. "Why are you calling me Sir?"
"Because I'm yours." She said, voice somehow taking on a tone of formality.
"WHAT?" Ron almost fell over. "What do you mean by THAT??"
"We're engaged. I belong to you now."
A/N;; woooo. what a chapter. only took me a few months to write!
Just a notification: since Utena deals with some rather adult themes, this fic will *also* deal, to a limited degree, with these things.. like ahem.. "relations" between duelists, and other.. things. (don't worry too much. i'm uncomfortable even WRITING anything deeper than "relations". so you've nothing to be concerned about, really.)
After Potions had ended (thankfully), the trio walked out towards the woods. They had, after much discussion, determined that the large platform above the woods must be the "arena". Well, they hoped it was the arena.
"Look, here." Hermione said, as they reached a large, stone garden near the beginning of the woods. There were a few benches about, and at the end a huge stone gate. "There's a handle on this thing." She reached out with her left, unringed hand, and yanked, hard.
"It's locked." Harry said, and whipped out his wand. The charm for unlocking a door did nothing. Even Hermione's subtle talent couldn't budge the gate. Finally, Ron took to the brute approach, and began tugging on the handle. Nothing, still.
"How do we DUEL when we can't even get IN the place??" Ron yelled, frustrated. He switched hands for a better grip, and, as the ring came into alignment with the door, a peculiar sound was heard. Like a drop of water. "Cold!" Ron yelled, yanking his hand back away from the door. A clock began ticking loudly, somewhere unseen. "Water just dripped.. sideways onto my ring…" he said, slowing as torrents of the same substance began coming out of the walls of the garden, filling the lower channels of the stone floor with water.
When the mist cleared, the gate had become an archway, topped by a gigantic stone rose. Through the darkened archway, wide stairs could be seen.
"Wow." Was the reaction, more or less, of Harry, Ron AND Hermione. Ron was, eventually, the first to cross the threshold of the gate. He looked upwards, and gasped. Above him, the stairway curled around a single pillar, which supported the platform that'd appeared that first morning.
Harry and Hermione, not far behind, joined him in amazement. "Well, I suppose this is our invitation to climb..?" Harry said, looking up at what must have been thousands of steps.
And climb they did. Up, up, ever and ever upwards. The school grounds sank slowly behind them. Ron noticed he was walking as if in a haze; he wasn't tired at all, and his mind seemed to be elsewhere. Hermione felt rested as she climbed, like a deep sleep. The walking didn't take any toll on any of them, in fact, Harry noticed. Usually, he would be panting and begging to stop after climbing a vertical mile.
And the mile was almost over. Ron, again first, reached the top of the stairs, and gave another of what was becoming a common place gasp. The entire platform was a field of deep red roses.
Standing in the middle were Anthy and Satoru. Strangely dressed.
Anthy wore what might have been a lovely ball gown, if not for the fact that the skirt was open in the front. Under that first skirt, she wore a long, slinky white and red dress. The entire outfit, in fact, was a combination of white and reddish pink colors. In her flowing purple hair, a golden crown perched, and she held a bouquet of roses up to her chin.
Satoru was clad in something of an oldentimey army uniform, with buckles and shoulder pads galore. He was glaring across the roses, and when he saw Ron come over the crest of the stairs, he called out.
"One is not permitted to duel without a sword!" Ron stopped in his tracks. "Pity!" Satoru taunted, beginning to walk closer. He seemed to ignore Harry and Hermione, who hung back on the steps. Ron looked about for a moment, and then raised his wand.
"Accio Sword!" he called loudly, and, interestingly enough, there was a long practice blade in his hands, the kind used in fencing. Satoru laughed.
"Anthy! Prepare the Duel." He called to the girl, who approached the center of the arena. Ron followed, peering about in a bit of doubt.
"Does he.. know how to use that?" Hermione asked Harry, slightly disturbed. Anthy approached Satoru, and pinned a light red yellow to the lapel of his jacket.
"I don't think so." Harry said, queasily. The idea of Ron being sliced from gullet to gizzard wasn't appealing to him. Anthy fairly glided across the roses to Ron, and pinned a bright reddish-orange blossom to the patch on his robes.
"The one to have their bosom rose knocked off first wins." She said simply, and slid her return journey to Satoru's side. There, as lights seemed to dim in the sky, and in the castle that floated, like a ghost, above all, she whispered an incantation:
"Oh rose of the noble castle
Oh power of Dios that slumbers within me
Harken to thy master!"
As she spoke, and bent backwards like a gymnast, a light began to grow on her chest, between hands that cupped the shining thing, brighter every moment. And then Satoru reached into the light, dipping her ever backwards with a well guided hand upon her spine. "Grant me the power of the world revolution!" he called, and from that shining point produced a long, ornate sword.
"What." Was Ron's reaction. He'd run out of wows by that time, and was resorting to another W-beginning word.
"Let us begin." Satoru said, and lunged towards Ron's breast rose. Ron dived out of the way and hit the flora rolling.
"What's going on??!" Hermione yelled, as Ron jumped out of the way of more and more strikes. He was in a serious panic, as Satoru laughed. Ron was being pushed further and further back with every one of Satoru's strokes.
"What's wrong? Can't use a sword?" the green haired boy laughed, as he struck again towards Ron's rose. Ron, wincing, brought his practice sword around and swung it against Satoru's beautiful sword.
The sound of wood hitting the long blade resounded throughout the flat garden. Satoru's sword was knocked away, his hand followed it to hang, swinging limply, from his side. And Ron, whose blade was inches away from the other boy's chest, stretched a little, and sliced the flower off of it's stem.
Things happened very strangely after that. Satoru dropped the sword, and ran off of the platform, down the stairs and out of sight. Anthy, who was still standing in the center of the platform, looked at Ron for a moment, and then, flowing in her stately gait, walked down the stairs as well. The trio of friends was left completely alone in the garden.
"That was… so strange." Ron said, a few minutes later, as he walked into the castle. He, Hermione and Harry, had been debating the duel above the school ever since they found their voices again. After the spectacle on the platform, it was hard to speak.
"I'm going to the library until curfew; I want to read up on magical swords." Hermione said, waving as she turned down a corridor.
"I think I'll go write a letter to Snuffles.." Harry said, turning to follow Hermione, and give news to his god-father.
So Ron was left alone, to climb up to the Gryffindor Dorms. He entered the 5th year boys room, panting from the stairs that plagued him so, and came face to face with eyes less empty than they had been.
In the otherwise deserted room, Anthy was sitting on his bed. How she had figured out which was his, Ron couldn't tell. But there she was, dressed in her school robes again, and smiling at him.
"Wh-wh-what are you here for..?" Ron said, stuttering as Anthy rose to speak to him.
"I'm here for you, Ron, Sir." She said, her long eyelashes batting in the semi-darkness. He backed away, looking at the girl strangely.
"What do you mean…?" he asked, looking around. There was definitely no one else in the room. "Why are you calling me Sir?"
"Because I'm yours." She said, voice somehow taking on a tone of formality.
"WHAT?" Ron almost fell over. "What do you mean by THAT??"
"We're engaged. I belong to you now."
A/N;; woooo. what a chapter. only took me a few months to write!
Just a notification: since Utena deals with some rather adult themes, this fic will *also* deal, to a limited degree, with these things.. like ahem.. "relations" between duelists, and other.. things. (don't worry too much. i'm uncomfortable even WRITING anything deeper than "relations". so you've nothing to be concerned about, really.)