The Queen's Honor Guard
by Nyohah
Part 2:
Restoration
Twenty-Eight Years Before MK1
I.
It was a chilly night in Silver Coast, Mandalore.
The last brilliant rays of the sun had reflected off the rolling sea and disappeared into the night long before Mandalorian Queen Yuen Ming emerged wearily from her bathing room, cloaked in the simple white linen dress that served as her sleeping clothes. Without a conscious thought, she mentally activated the sunstones that dotted the high ceiling of her bedroom and collapsed onto her bed.
She fumbled for her hairbrush, lacking the will to rise again. Yet she forced herself to sit up, tucking her chilled feet underneath her in order to warm them. The marble floors of the palace were frigid: a sure sign that winter was quickly approaching—far too quickly, in her opinion. She would, as always, miss the abundant plant-life come winter.
Ming pulled the brush through her thick black hair. Or tried to at any rate. Her hair reached nearly to the covers on her bed from her sitting position, and consequently it tangled frequently and untangled with great difficulty. Kei Sa had always brushed it carefully and gently in the past, but now Kei Sa was no longer Ming's handmaiden. She spent all her time at her post in the army training fields, working with the new recruits on the basics of defense.
She missed Kei Sa—not just her help, but her ever-cool-headed advice, and, most importantly, her friendship.
It had been a busy month: her first as queen. Without Yuen Po's steady guidance, Ming doubted she could have survived. And she knew that the work was not going to get any easier for a very long time, if ever. It had almost let up a bit—just a bit—but then the Vyrenchi had again appeared. They insisted that they speak with her. Not her brother, not her great-great-grandmother. Her. They accepted Ming and Ming alone. Luckily, they were not hard to please, for they were very eager to please her. The emissaries had returned to their planet to more clearly communicate with their people until all agreed on the terms of an alliance. Vyrenchi ways and logic were strange to Ming, and she could not begin to estimate the time it would take to acquire such unanimity. However, a secure alliance was imminent, and with their power, the Vyrenchi would undoubtedly double the security the Mandalorians could provide the other planets in their makeshift alliance.
Ming was finally making some progress in her hair when there was a playful knock at her door. She set her hairbrush on a table and hurried through her passages to answer it before she froze her feet.
As soon as she opened the door, a pair of hands reached in, seized her arm, and pulled her outside. She twisted her arm away and automatically reached up with a kick, but the kick was deflected and the hands grasped her shoulders, spinning her and wrapping a solid arm around her neck.
"All right," a male voice rasped behind her ear, "you're coming with me."
The queen stepped on her attacker's foot, and wrenched her elbow into his stomach. He grunted, a satisfying noise, but rather than being thrown off-balance and releasing her, he grabbed her wrist and elbow, twisting the arm behind her back and applying just enough pressure to make the position uncomfortable and prevent Ming from resisting further, lest her arm snap.
"Ming," admonished the voice, now devoid of its disguise and utterly familiar, "don't you even remember your best friend? It's only been a month."
"I'm sorry, Cai Yue," she breathed, mortified at having elbowed him in the stomach, "but I'm not accustomed to being pulled out of my chambers in the middle of the night. May I have my arm back?"
"It's the beginning of the night, and no, you may not." He did, however, gingerly untwist it from behind her back. "We're going on a walk, come on."
Ming looked stricken. "Cai Yue! I cannot go out in my nightclothes!"
"You're fully dressed! Contrary to your royal-lady training, you do not need to be wearing three layers in order to be decent. Come now, let's go." He pulled her forward, but she resisted, stiffening her legs, and leaning back.
"I need shoes."
"No, you don't. Come on." He pulled harder, and wrenched her forward, breaking her resistance.
"Cai Yue, I need shoes."
"Is there an echo in here?"
Ming sighed, giving up. "Where are we going?"
"It's a secret." He continued half-dragging her forward, a barely restrained smile threatening to take over his face.
They trekked through the endless halls of the palace. Ming suspected he was trying to destroy her sense of direction—rather successfully. They had been walking for nearly fifteen minutes and her feet felt close to becoming blocks of ice when she finally realized where they were.
"Are we going to the opera?" she asked, smiling slyly and raising an eyebrow.
Rah Cai Yue stopped in his tracks, dropped his head, and threw Ming's arm down against her body. "You weren't supposed to guess. Now you've ruined it all."
"Well, I could play along and pretend to be surprised when we get there."
"It won't be the same." He crossed his arms and turned away.
"Mr. Rah," she started in her most authoritative voice, "if you brought me all the way out here in the middle of a freezing cold night while I was in my nightclothes with no shoes for no reason, I am going to be severely displeased."
He dropped his arms and bowed respectfully. "Very well, Your Righteousness. We shall continue our quest." He marched ahead of her like a royal parade, and in a few minutes, they arrived at the entrance to the grand auditorium that was the opera.
Ming reached to open the door, but he gently deflected her hand.
"My Queen, I must enter first and scour the area for hidden assassins to ensure your safety."
"Oh, really."
"Don't you trust me?"
The young queen raised her eyebrows.
"Very well. But someday I will prove my utmost devotion to you, my beautiful ruler." He kissed her hand and then, opening the door slightly, slid in.
Yuen Ming covered her face with her hands and slowly shook her head. "I associate myself with this character?" she asked the walls.
Less than five minutes later, the elaborately engraved door swung open silently with Rah Cai Yue's proclamation of, "All clear, Ming."
"I see we've dropped the knight-in-shining-armor act," she replied, stepping through the entrance into the soft, golden light of the opera's sparse sunstones.
Cai Yue ignored her, pushing the door shut with his shoulder, careful to ensure that Ming did not catch a glimpse of the object he held behind his back—an object that required both his hands to hold it steadily hidden.
"Now what is this all about?" Ming asked, sitting in a nearby seat and wrapping the extra fabric of her skirt around her feet to warm them.
In one fluid motion, Cai Yue swept the package from behind his back and bowed, holding it out for her to take. It was a medium-sized black rectangular case, solid but covered with tough fabric. She quietly undid the latches and opened the lid.
Inside lay a flawless violin, carved from a rich, dark-colored wood.
"Cai Yue," Ming breathed, then stopped before she added, 'How did you know?' This unexpected gift was an answer to a longtime dream that she had never expressed. She had always wanted to play the violin, but she knew there was no way her father would ever let her. He had thought she was already too involved in the opera. Playing a musical instrument on top of singing, acting, and acrobatics would be blasphemy as far as he was concerned, and she had been too scared to ask, just to see if there were some chance he would ever be lenient. Her father had always frightened her, and by the time she had learned to stand against him, she'd had no extra time to think about the violin. But now, Emperor Yuen was long gone, and Ming would make time.
And somehow, Cai Yue had known. He had, truly, always been far more perceptive than she'd given him credit for.
Setting aside the case and its beautiful contents, Ming stood and hugged her friend tightly. "I missed you, as well."
The next morning dawned bright and warm, and the citizens of Silver Coast greeted the tiny heat wave with open arms.
Yuen Ming found herself with the irresistible longing to bask in the warm sunlight and spent most of her morning in the courtyards, walking, admiring the various plants and trees, and practicing her new violin skills. She'd had no trouble finding a teacher who would set up lessons on such short notice, and on an odd schedule like hers. Indeed, there were times she enjoyed her royal privileges.
Near lunchtime, as a cool, refreshing breeze swept through the courtyards intermittently, perfecting the temperature every few seconds, Ming recognized her great-great-grandmother making her way to the secluded corner Ming had claimed, followed by a young servant with a tray.
"Gorgeous morning, is it not, Grandmamma?"
"Absolutely, my dear child," answered Yuen Po, seating herself in a chair next to Ming. The servant poured them both small cups of tea, then bowed swiftly. Ming nodded at her, and the servant went on her way, returning to the kitchens.
"You look lovely, today," started the old woman.
"Why thank you, Grandmamma." Ming's hair had been braided and then looped into a decorative knot that clung to her head, pinned in place with silver prongs accented with creamy white pearls. She wore one of her favorite dresses, a simple dark blue gown with a high waist, reminiscent of those of Earth's medieval period.
"Quite lovely. Fitting for the banquet tonight...or for a future bride," Yuen Po stated, almost casually.
Ming's heart jolted into double-speed as a chill ran up her spine. The cup of tea from which she had begun to sip fell from her grasp, shattering on the cobblestones. Hearing the crash, a servant ran across the courtyard, desperate to clean the mess.
Ming looked at her great-great-grandmother in disbelief. "What?"
"You are to be married, my child." Yuen Po sipped her tea.
"Grandmamma!"
"My child, it is essential. We have recovered from a terrible dictatorship. The Mandalorian people are uneasy. Their lives seem unstable. It is your duty to serve the Mandalorian people to the best of your ability, and the Mandalorian people need to be shown that everything is normal, and they can proceed with their lives. You, my dear, are a very public figure. If you can be shown to be secure enough in the future for marriage, then the people will relax."
"Grandmamma...Jer Rod can be married," she said, desperation straining her voice. "Please, Grandmamma, not me."
"Ming, no one asked to marry your brother."
Ming began to understand. "There has been a proposal? Who?"
"Li Wei Yong. He was very eager, and he is a good match for you."
Ming was slightly surprised by the news. She had been around the young military leader quite often, even before he was promoted to General of the Army after his father's death. Many had scorned the decision to promote Wei Yong into such a spot, but there had really been no other choice. The high-ranking officers had all been strictly loyal to the late General Li and Emperor Yuen. The younger Li had been by far the most capable of the lower officers, and had inherited his father's tactical skill. He was essentially the fourth most influential Mandalorian on the planet, less important than only the Yuens.
"My sweet child," continued Yuen Po, "I understand that this is a shock. I ask only that you spend more time with him and consider him as a suitor."
"Grandmamma, I don't even like him!"
"Ming, dear, you haven't ever given him a chance."
"I don't want to."
"Now you're acting like a spoiled child. Dear, time is all I require of you. What else have you to do?"
Ming sighed and kicked at the ground. Engagement was a terribly huge step, but Ming felt herself already warming to the idea of spending more time with the young General Li. She still blamed him for spoiling her second escape attempt, but this was an excellent opportunity to make him feel awful about his mindless compliance with orders. Besides, what she had seen of him revealed him to be an amusing person, his inane sense of humor as hilarious as it was annoying. And after all, he was very easy on the eyes.
"Only consider him, and spend some time with him..."
"Yes, my child."
"Very well," Ming acquiesced, slowly shaking her head at her lack of will. "If I must."
"Mother!" Rah Cai Yue called from his room for the third time. "I need your help. Please?"
"I'm working now. You can wait." Mrs. Rah shook her head and continued to wash her dishes.
"Mother..." he whined. "I'm going to be late!"
The hefty woman sighed and dried her hands on a dishtowel nearby. "What is it?" she asked, unenthusiastically plodding toward her son's room.
"I need your opinion. What should I wear?" He flung open his closet doors to reveal the garish collection assembled within.
The wealthy woman crossed her arms. "I was under the impression that I had a son, not a daughter."
"Mother!" Cai Yue cried, yet again. "I'm dying here. My shirts are all too bright."
"Who's fault is that?"
"Mother!"
"You have black pants, do you not?"
"Yes."
Mrs. Rah walked across the hall to her bedroom, snatched one of her husband's simple black dress shirts, and tossed it at her son. He took one look at it and said, "This is boring."
"It's suave. You asked my opinion, now get going."
Ming peeked out from behind her curtain at the near-chaotic arrivals. The banquet was huge, meant to celebrate an entire month of freedom, and the people were still jubilant, reveling in their peace and making up for lost time.
She had taken her great-great-grandmother's advice to heart, and wore the same dress and hairstyle she had sported earlier, the only addition to which was the compulsory white face paint, navy blue line of eye make-up, and deep red lipstick. She hated the paint; it was sticky and it made her face feel strange when she showed any sort of facial expression. In fact, she had decided she was forced to wear the make-up to ensure that she couldn't scratch or rub her face and to compel her to keep a straight, serious countenance, rather than because of any tradition. However irritating, though, it added significantly to her prestige, and a small, young woman like Ming needed aid in that area.
The guests finally began to settle down and take their assigned seats, and Ming's anxiety began to grow. As she continued to watch the banquet out of her curtain, wringing her hands, and trying to force herself to stand still and not pace, she found her eye drawn inexplicably to an entering guest. She didn't recognize the man, of medium height and slim build, wearing a simple, yet elegant black outfit. Whoever he was, he was certainly among the best looking of the young men present, and yet, though she could not remember having seen him before, he was strangely familiar.
Her eyes trailed him as he walked quickly by the tables, craning his neck to get a better view of the place cards. He seemed to find whatever name he was looking for, and hurried through the narrow aisles that separated each table, skillfully dodging the other guests as they hurried for their seats as well. He stopped at one of the center tables, and sat in...Rah Cai Yue's chair?
Ming blinked twice, squinting to get a better look at his face. Yes, that was Cai Yue. How odd. Where was his bright shirt? And most disquieting, had she ever thought of him as attractive before?
She shook her head to clear the strange aberrant notions. It was nearly time, after all.
The royal family entered the banquet with the expected formality. Yuen Po entered from the center, accompanied by a new march written for the new sovereign. The twins entered from opposite sides of the platform, bowing respectfully to their great-great-grandmother in unison before taking their seats beside her.
The former din of the chattering guests quieted to an occasional clatter of dishes as the servants—mostly former slaves who were now paid for their work and treated far better—passed around the food, fastidiously prepared by Silver Coast's best chefs. The guests eyed their plates with anticipation, waiting in near silence for the royalty to begin to eat, and therefore allow them to.
Ming watched Yuen Po nervously, hoping that she would not be forced to speak. Her brother was skilled at speaking, and furthermore, he had important things to say. Ming felt as though all her contributions paled in comparison with his own natural leadership skills. To her relief, Yuen Po stood, and did not gesture at the twins to rise as well.
"Great people of Mandalore," began the elderly woman, "as you are all aware, tonight we celebrate an entire month of freedom from the Tyrant's reign. It may not seem to be much when you think of the few days we have been free, compared to the many years of the Tyrant's iron rule, yet when you consider all that we have accomplished for the good of the people, it has been a grand month, indeed.
"It pleases me to announce to you tonight that we have another reason for celebration. I stand before you to announce that Her Righteousness, Queen Yuen Ming, and our very own Head Commander of the Army, General Li Wei Yong, are engaged to be married."
Sitting just beside Yuen Po, Ming involuntarily stiffened in her seat as the unprecedented betrayal plunged into her heart like an icy dagger. Doing her best to breathe, she dragged her eyes along the crowd of guests, trying not to show her distress.
Li Wei Yong sat near the middle, in the front, as befitted an honored guest. He met her gaze with his dark gray eyes, a smile spreading on his handsome face. Certainly he was a likable fellow, and she had no reason to dislike him, but marriage? She hardly knew him. What had her great-great-grandmother done to her?
Ming briefly closed her eyes, breaking their eye contact. Sweeping her gaze down the row, she was halted at the sight of Rah Cai Yue, sitting in the mirrored seat of Wei Yong, the same place on the opposite side of the room.
His head hung low over his plate, the bangs of his not too short, but far from long hair falling in his face. As though sensing her stare, he slowly raised his head, the indigo highlights and vague violet tint to his dark eyes scarcely noticeable from the distance. Staring straight into them, and trying to convey without speech a reassuring message of her lack of approval, Ming could not help but notice that his eyes seemed shinier than usual...
And just how did she know every detail of his eyes, anyway?
With her peripheral vision, Ming noticed that Kei Sa was sitting just next to Cai Yue. She forced herself to look away from him, to see Kei Sa's expression of justifiable concern. Everyone else seemed happy, and she felt herself detesting them for not realizing her distress. But how could she expect them to? They didn't know her, really. They pretended to know her, and criticized her like they knew her, but they had never met her, never spoken with her, for the most part.
Yet her great-great-grandmother knew her, and her feelings on the matter. What was going through her head; what thoughts would cause her to ignore Ming's opinion on a matter that more than concerned her?
Her brother knew her, and he seemed to be as surprised by Yuen Po's behavior as Ming was. From her skeptical look, Kei Sa understood Ming's feelings of betrayal. And Cai Yue seemed morose, but Ming felt he wasn't considering her. All others seemed to spread the joy she could not feel, indulging themselves in the affairs of public figures.
Noticing a great movement disrupting the stillness, Ming's attention was drawn to the area in which her best friends were sitting. To her astonishment, Cai Yue stood, insolently neglecting his untouched food and walking away, out the door. A low murmur spread through the other guests, in reaction to his inconceivably rude behavior.
Yuen Ming blinked twice, and started to rise, but she felt a cold hand clutch hers firmly. Somewhere in the midst of Ming's panic, Yuen Po had sat. She looked at Ming sternly, silently telling her she would not be allowed to duplicate her friend's discourtesy.
Ming turned her head away from the older woman in shame, and felt the gnarled old hand release her. After a few seconds of silence, the dining hall was filled with the indecipherable murmurs of conversation, the clinks of glasses, and the scrapes of knives against porcelain plates. Yuen Po had taken the first bite, signaling the guests that they were allowed to eat.
But Ming did not wish to eat. The savory scents wafting up from the expensive delicacies on her plate made her nauseous, rather than intensifying her appetite. The unthinkable deception on her grandmother's part left her feeling ill, and yet, she was the role model, the queen, the mannequin of proper Mandalorian life.
She gathered a lady-sized bite of spiced noodles, and willfully forced herself to swallow them.
It was to be an unbearably long, deplorable celebration.
The young queen closed the door softly behind her and exhaled a faintly audible sigh, relaxing her rod-straight posture. She slumped against the door of the tower, dropping her head to stare at the ground, her hand pressed to her forehead as though it could halt the whirlwind of unwelcome thoughts in her head.
The rustling commotion of the crowd's dispersion echoed through the solid wood of the door, and Ming was relieved to finally be free from her public restraints. It was essentially her tower; she could all but walk about in the hall wearing only her underclothes. She dropped her hand, and, noticing the white face-paint that had been smeared on it, sighed once more. Hoisting her skirts with her other hand, she started up the stairs.
At the top of the last flight, she slipped off her shoes and tucked them under her arm, disregarding the chill of the floor, wholly ready to drown her troubles in slumber. She lifted her line of sight to measure the last few steps leading to her room, and started, involuntarily jumping back a fraction of an inch.
A man was slumped against the wall, his head hung low, dressed in a familiar black outfit.
"Cai Yue?" she whispered.
He looked up from his trance, and stood suddenly. He was in bad shape, the disheveled ghost of the happy young man he had been a few hours before. Taking a step forward, Ming noticed the two shiny trails staining his face, and stopped once more. "What's wrong, Cai Yue? I've been worried."
He forced a twisted half-smile. "Congratulations," he said contemptuously.
"Are you okay?" Ming took a hesitant step forward.
Her friend mirrored her movement. "I guess this is the only time I'll ever get to do this."
"Do what? Cai Yue, what are you talking about?"
And then he kissed her.
Ming took a reflexive step backwards, stunned.
Cai Yue forced a bitter laugh, wiping the queen's red lipstick from his mouth. As Ming's frozen brain tried to come back to life, he collapsed to his knees, having lost his barely retained composure.
Yuen Ming swallowed hard, and stepped away. "I'm sorry, Cai Yue, but I had no choice. It is not my fault."
Closing her eyes, she turned away, leaving him alone and rejected in the hallway, and stepping into her room, where the indomitable call for sleep and thus, she hoped, peace awaited her.