Ladybug: (Pops up out of nowhere) What is Pearl talking… Oh! (sees audience and waves happily) Hiiii!! Love you! Missed you!
Wakko: (comes trudging by, pauses and glances over at the audience) Ho-Whoa! I… er… (hides sun lotion and sunglasses behind her back, along with a really skimpy bikini) We weren't on vacation! I promise! We were not slacking off! We were really very busy! (runs off to change out of bathrobe)
Pearlyblue: (glares after the disappearing Wakko with a sweatdrop) …Yeah… Well… so much for that, then. Okay, well, now we are back, okay? This chapter may not be very long, but it was a good place to endand at least I wanted to update – for once!
Ladybug: (pouts) Heyy… Ladybug wanted to update, too… Ladybug wants sparkly reviewsies! (sparkles and suddenly grins from ear to ear) Ladybug loves sparkly reviewsies! Loooooves them!
Pearlyblue: (sweatdrops again)…Right.
Wakko (comes back, fluffing her hair up and whistling innocently) So, wanna get this show underway or what?
Ladybug: (gaaaaasps) Oooh! Pearl, Pearl, Pearl! Is this the chappie where the… and the… and the small one…?!
Pearlyblue: (blinks, bewildered) Uh… Yeah, sure. That's the one, all right.
Ladybug: YAAAY!
Pearlyblue (surreptitiously leans over to Wakko) I don't… did you get that?
Wakko (smiles and shrugs) Don't ask me: The only one who ever really has a clue as to what she's talking about, is her.
On a bedroll on the floor of his tent, just far enough away from Sylvia to feel comfortable, Griffith woke up in the pale early-morning light by a light tickle against the side of his throat and a whisperingly sniffing noise. Remembering in an instant the beautiful and confusing young woman who'd spent the night in his bed, he was immediately wide awake.
"E-e-eh?"
But the sight that greeted his unfocused eyes was not at all what he'd expected. Instead of looking into big, odd-coloured eyes framed by wispy, golden-red curls, he found himself staring at a decidedly smaller face. It was opalescent black in colour, with soft, white tufts sprouting from the top of its head, its chin, and the sides of its face, and the eyes that stared back at him from this confusing countenance were a piercing, light lavender in colour.
And it was absolutely not human in any way. As a thin, forked, blue tongue shot out and tickled his chin, Griffith finally found his wits and scurried backwards with a startled yelp. The thing flew backwards as well, jaws open to reveal sharp teeth as pearly white as Sylvia's, and displayed all four of its paws and the dangerous-looking, jet black claws on them as well as its opal-white belly-plates. It hung there in mid air, while two specks that looked like trembling, angry orange-red eyes flickered behind it.
As soon as the initial shock had worn off, Griffith noticed that the thing was not at all as big as he had first thought it was. In fact, it was merely about two hand's breadths in length, not counting its long, whipping, white-tufted tail. Except for the silky little fur-tufts on its face, tail and backs of its legs, it looked an awful lot like the legendary dragon. Well, that and its rather unimpressive size.
"What the…?"
The tiny dragon-thing hissed and spat a quick, angry little sound at him before whirring off towards the prone form of Sylvia. Griffith was on his feet and fumbling for his sword in a heartbeat, not at all convinced of this weird creature's harmlessness.
But Sylvia just languidly reached out with one delicate, porcelain-white arm and allowed the thing to perch there. Her voice, still thick and drowsy with the remnants of sleep drifted up out of the blankets.
"Garou, I thought I told you a million times not to startle the servants… I don't wanna wake up yet… I had such a wonderful dream about that… guy…" A very brief silence, filled with thought so intensive that it was almost audible, and then Sylvia sat bolt upright, crushing the little dragon-thing against her ample, uncovered bosom, squealing: "GAROU!! Oh, my dear, darling, precious little Garou! Oh, I missed you so much! Mommy's widdle snugglekins has found its way home again! Ohhh!"
The thing was making small, forced noises and struggling wanly against Sylvia's tight embrace, but managed to warble excitedly between chokes and gasps. Griffith carefully turned his back to the scene, feeling his face heat up again at the sight of so much of Sylvia – in the flesh. No woman had ever had this kind of effect on him. Never.
"Err… I take it that you know this little… creature, then, Lady Sylvia?"
"Oh yes!" Sylvia chirped behind him. " Garou is my soulbound protector, my spirit beast, my bestest friend, my token animal companion, my Manitou… my widdle dwagonfwy snugglekinsy poo-bear shnoozie!"
A mildly annoyed warble followed, which almost sounded like "Enough already, MO-OM!"
"Well… all right… I suppose there's no problem, then. Um, would you mind…?"
"Mommy's widdle wriggly worm… Aw, I've missed you… Hm? What's this?" A faint gasp. "A message? From mother? No?"
A quick warble.
"Not a message? A link? Awesome! Patch me up immediately!"
The warble sounded quite reproachful this time.
"Presentable? What do you mean?" Brief silence. "Oh. Yeah. I'll put something on."
Another warble.
"Really? Huh…" Then a small hand tapped him lightly on the shoulder. "L-Sir Griffith, my mother wishes to speak with you later. And probably the other commanders, too. If you've got the time."
He turned around to give her a polite smile but immediately turned back. She still wasn't wearing anything. For once in his life, Griffith cursed his fair complexion that made the blush so evident in his face. He coughed to hide his discomfiture.
"Er, yes, that should be no problem. We have to confer, anyway, about the tactics of our next battle… I'll have them all together in a matter of hours. Hrm. I'll wait outside while you get dressed, and then we will have some breakfast. How does that sound to you?"
"Just perfect! Thanks! But when are you going to get dressed? Or do you usually eat breakfast in merely breeches?"
"Er, no. I'll just dress outside. Join me when you are ready."
"Okay."
Corkus was not in the best of moods. The doctors would rather have kept him in bed for at least a couple more days, but when he'd gotten the message that Griffith wanted all his commanders gathered in the conference tent, he'd finally had enough leverage to effectively tell them to go to hell.
The stitches in his arm hurt every time he moved too fast, and all the smaller, bandaged wounds made it hard for him to manage to walk upright, and without a limp. The pain was annoying and made everything more difficult, except ignoring the dark, dull little ache of self-loathing that coiled in the pit of his stomach.
Sylvia… He'd thought about it, last night. Thought a lot while his wounds kept him awake, as if delivering some kind of just punishment for him having been such a complete ass. He'd tried to tell himself that he'd done the right thing, that she was not only out of his league, but of a completely different species, to boot. He knew, of course that it would never work out between them – might as well face it, they were literally WORLDS apart – but somehow, he'd just never really managed to convince himself that the things he'd said to her, last night, were true.
He wanted to hate her, he really, really did, but every time he saw a flicker of red or yellow in the corner of his eye, his heart sped up. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw crystal tears running down alabaster cheeks, pale with hurt and shock. And then, his stomach would churn again.
Damn her! Damn it all!
He didn't really notice, but people were giving him quite a wide berth as he trudged on towards the conference tent.
Curse it! If I never, ever have to see her again, it'll be too soon!
He tore the tent flap aside – and was awarded with a sharp stab of pain that almost brought tears to his eyes – only to come eye-to-eye with the very woman that had been so effectively occupying his thoughts. She immediately blushed and blinked her long, dark eyelashes at him, her delicate mouth forming a surprised little "o".
"What are you doing here?" he hissed before she'd had a chance to say anything. It came out a lot more harsh and angry than he'd intended, but with the intense pain in his arm and the nasty thing churning in his stomach, he didn't really care right now.
She froze for an instant, in which he got a very good view of what the face of a broken heart looks like, and then she spun around and half-ran over to Judeau. She snuck in behind the blond scout and hid her face behind her own, red-golden curls. Judeau, on the other hand, sent Corkus an unusually angry and reprimanding look.
"Lady Sylvia is here," Griffith's euphonious voice called Corkus' attention over to where the pale commander sat at the head of the table, "Because she has a message to us from her mother." He turned to the flustered woman (and Corkus felt a completely unwanted surge of anger as he saw that Sylvia's delicate little hand was shyly resting in Judeau's). "My Lady, now that we are all present…?"
Sylvia looked up, as if startled. "Oh… yes, right. But…" she cleared her throat and pulled her hand out of Judeau's gentle hold. "Eh, it's actually not a message… Mother wants to… er… okay, I think I'd better just show you."
She reached into her pocket and looked up with a slightly worried expression on her face. "Don't be scared, okay? And don't run away, please. That could trigger her… erm… that could be considered an insult. Yeah."
Trudging over to his place by the table, Corkus frowned. What the hell was going to happen now?
She opened her slender fingers to reveal a large, black marble with a very faint reddish glow in its centre. As she pursed her rosy lips and blew on it, the red glow increased and seemed to leave its black shell, forming delicate tendrils of smoke that lifted the pearl from her hand. As the light grew in intensity and more, fuller wisps of ethereal smoke drifted out, the black marble slowly rose higher – until, with a sudden burst of speed, it flew to the conference table and settled perfectly in its middle. Red mist poured forth, twisting and coiling around itself, until a more solid shape slowly took form in their midst. Then they parted, and revealed something quite unbelievable.
It was undoubtedly female, and very remarkably so. Though only about three feet tall, the very slightly transparent figure gave the distinct impression of standing tall, and it radiated power. The resemblance to Sylvia was unmistakeable, except that the eyes that coldly surveyed the room were completely without compassion, warmth or love, and a very deep blood red in colour – and that this woman was, if possible, even more radiantly beautiful than Sylvia. Her skin was pristinely white, like snow, and her hair was as black as any raven's wing, with crimson stripes running through it at tasteful intervals. Her posture was proud, perhaps even haughty, and she had loosely crossed her arms over her chest, tapping a taloned finger slowly against the exotic armour that she wore under the long, flowing fabric that fell from her shoulders to her feet in subtle waves – almost creating the illusion of a long, beautiful dressing gown.
Her ears were prolonged, stretching sharply back from her head and ending in points that almost looked as though she could stab someone with them, and her noble forehead was adorned with the most beautifully crafted golden tiara. There was one stone in it, right at its centre, that looked eerily like a predatory, dark amethyst eye.
But beyond that, even though she was stunningly beautiful, this woman had a presence and an aura that left any who looked at her with a lingering sense of fear. Like a small, helpless lamb who suddenly found itself staring a hungry wolf in the eye.
She turned to Sylvia, and Corkus could swear that the eye in the tiara blinked.
"So," she said, with a voice at once so hypnotically sweet, and so full of unquestionable authority, "This is where you're staying." One delicate, raven black eyebrow lifted slowly in a very subtle gesture of displeasure.
"Y-yeah," Sylvia stuttered eagerly, smiling and blushing slightly at the same time. She gestured at the white-haired man at the head of the table. "Mother, this is Laaaa- Sir Griffith, he's the leader of an army…" She stopped abruptly and almost looked like she'd bit her tongue. Sylvia's mother's gaze hardened just a little further, and her clothes rustled as if moved by a soft wind.
"I see," she said, and the temperature dropped significantly in the tent. "You are the one with the ultimate responsibility for my daughter." The eye in the tiara remained fixed on Griffith as the Demon Queen glanced over at her daughter. "And I had already understood that you were in an army camp, dear. They are wearing armour. Now, don't get any ideas into your head just because of that – you know you are not strong enough to partake in battle."
Corkus just stared. If Sylvia wasn't good enough, who was? He expected her to defend herself, but the red-blond woman merely squirmed uncomfortably, blushed furiously, and mumbled something inaudible.
"What was that, dear?"
"…Yes, Mother."
"That's a good girl. Now, Mr Griffith…"
"Er…" Sylvia raised one tentative finger. The Demon Queen's glance was slightly annoyed, this time.
"Yes?"
"Can… can I introduce the others…?"
The Queen's blood-red eyes closed for a moment in what looked strangely like resignation. "…Go ahead."
Sylvia smiled shyly and quickly proceeded.
"This-" Her hand landed softly on Judeau's shoulder. "-Is Judeau, he's the commander of the scouts and… and… er… he's my friend."
A faint wrinkle appeared over the Demon Queen's aristocratic nose. "…Friend?"
"Yes." Sylvia's posture became just a little more defiant, while Judeau looked like he'd rather be somewhere else, entirely. "He's my friend. A really good friend."
The Queen's eyes closed again (except for the one in the tiara, which remained steadily fixed on Judeau) and her head drooped very, very slightly towards her chest.
"A friend." She raised her head again and let out a calm breath. "Well… leave it to you to make friends with food."
Sylvia's blush became just a little deeper, and she muttered something again. This time, the Queen's eyes narrowed in a rather terrifying way. Her voice was tight and clipped as it scolded her daughter:
"Your father is a different matter entirely, child. Don't you dare compare him to these… livestock! And don't use that tone with me, I don't appreciate it."
Sylvia scraped her foot and looked down at the floor. "…'M sorry."
A short silence followed, in which the Queen's cold eyes again surveyed all the people in the tent. Then she heaved a tired little sigh.
"Oh, for damnation's sake… I'm not going to eat you. Don't look so terrified. The only reason why I should bother with eating any of you bony, sinewy people would be if any of you-" And Corkus was absolutely certain that when she said this, the deep purple eye of the tiara turned right to him, and stared. "-Were to hurt my daughter. Or let her come to harm." All three of her eyes now fixed firmly on Griffith again.
"As I was going to say, Mr Griffith, I will hold you ultimately responsible for her safety. We will be coming to get her as soon as we can, and we will want her back in – as you say – 'one piece'. Is that clear?"
Griffith bowed deeply, seeming for all the world remarkably unaffected by the predatory, overwhelming presence of the Demon Queen. "Perfectly, your Highness. I give you my solemn word that she will come to no harm."
"Well… whatever that means to me, I thank you. We will arrive in maybe a month or two – travelling between planes is… a complicated matter – and during this time, you must host my daughter and make sure that she has everything she needs. I will of course compensate you for this. What manner of payment do you use in your realm? I forget…"
Griffith had looked up with a pleasantly surprised look on his face as the Demon Queen mentioned compensation, and spread his hands in a generous, self-effacing gesture.
"Well, your Majesty… whatever compensation you deem worthy will be perfect, I am sure."
She raised another perfect eyebrow.
"Well, aren't you the clever one. But you do, of course, realise that that means I could just as well pay you in trapped souls. Somehow, though, I don't think that would be anything you could have any use for."
Griffith bowed again and smiled apologetically.
"Indeed not, your Highness. In this world, we usually deal in gold."
"Hm." The Demon Queen seemed to look off to the side for a moment. "Would that not be terribly heavy to cart around?"
The only hint of emotion in Griffith was a momentary brightening of his smile. But he calmly steepled his fingers in front of himself and seemed to give the matter some thought.
"Well… precious jewels and gemstones are also very attractive… some are worth a lot more than gold."
She nodded almost imperceptibly. "I see. Fine. Jewels it is, then. Half now and half when we arrive to pick Sylvia up. Deal?"
Griffith nodded uncertainly and spoke softly: "Certainly… but… half now? How…?"
The Demon Queen raised a snow-white hand and snapped her slender fingers once, with the sound like the crack of a whip. The very same instant, a medium-sized chest appeared on the table in front of the small figure. It was crafted in beautiful, reddish wood of an unknown kind and was fitted with what appeared to be gold-plated iron.
"Through this link," the Demon Queen tiredly stated, "I can send small quantities of inanimate matter. However, the energy of the soul-pearl is almost used up, so I will not be able to communicate with you for much longer. There is your payment, now I trust we understand each other in that if you were to fail in your duties of keeping my daughter safe, or take this money and try to run, I will find you and deliver you to Hell's gates by the most excruciating means. Yes?"
Even Griffith had to swallow nervously at this: The cold, definite truth in her voice was unmistakable, and anyone with any spark of imagination was not having much trouble thinking up what "by the most excruciating means" could mean. However, his voice betrayed nothing.
"Certainly, your Majesty."
"Right, then-" Her attention left Griffith as abruptly and completely as if he had been something nasty that she'd had to hold for a while, and relocated to Sylvia. "-Sylvia, dear, before I forget, here is your weapon and your armour. Now I hope you'll manage to stay alive until your father and I can get there…?"
Sylvia held out her hands and mumbled, "Yes, Mother."
The Demon Queen nodded curtly and snapped her fingers twice. At the first, a beautifully crafted brace appeared on Sylvia's lower right arm. It was a shimmering opalescent white and looked almost like it was made from some kind of scaly hide. Imbued upon it, in gold fitting, was one flame-orange gemstone the size of an egg. It sparkled briefly, and a quiet hum filled the air. Then the second snap sounded, and a huge, two-handed flail appeared in Sylvia's other hand. It, too, had an egg-shaped flame-stone fastened in gold to its base, and its handle was wrapped with what appeared to be pastel pink and pearly white silk ribbons. These continued up all the way to the weapon's jointed middle, where they flowed out, one white and one pink, down to twice the length of the handle. The pink ribbon had delicately embroidered white flowers down all its length, and the white had pink ones. The heavy, spiked head of the flail was crafted in some grey, unidentifiable metal and adorned with an intricately complicated pattern in radiant silver, twisting in and out between the short, stubby spikes.
As soon as the weapon had appeared, the ribbons lifted and flew to Sylvia, caressing her forms and face with what almost seemed like intelligent intent and tenderness – as if the thing was happy to see her.
Corkus could only blink. All this was just too much, and far too weird, to do anything but accept as it was. He glanced over at Judeau, to see if the scout commander was having the same experience, and saw him do a double-take at the swirling ribbons. Apparently, something else, beside their behaviour and mere existence, was strange about them.
And when the ribbons curled up against Sylvia, the golden-red haired beauty smiled the first real smile Corkus had seen this day.
"Hi…" she murmured softly, stroking the ribbons and the handle of the flail. "I missed you too."
She looked so happy in that moment, and so very beautiful, that Corkus found it painful to look at her. Yet he couldn't look away.
"Now, Sylvia, dear," the Demon Queen's voice interrupted Corkus' reverie and Sylvia's smile, "Here's some pocket money for you." Another whip-like snap and a small, blood red velvet bag landed in front of Sylvia. "Stay out of trouble until we get there, all right?" The Queen then looked off to the side briefly and seemed to heave a little sigh. "No, dear," she muttered a little quietly to someone invisible, "I can't say that. No. You can tell her when we get there. No."
The small figure was becoming more and more transparent and the red mists around it seemed to be dissipating. As the image finally flickered out and died, a very deep and booming voice – unmistakeably that of a man – came through the link as if across some great distance:
"Daddy loves you, honey! Be saaafe!"
And a last, enraged: "Dear!" From the queen. Then the link died and the mists were gone. The colour of the pearl itself had faded into an ashen grey.
All eyes in the tent turned to Sylvia, who blushed a very deep colour of red and laughed embarrassedly. "Eh-heh-heh… That was my dad. Yeah. He can get a little excited and… hrm. So, Griffith, can I talk to you, please? In private?"
Griffith looked around at his commanders and raised one white, perfect eyebrow at their various stunned expressions. "Well… yes, certainly. I think we all need a break before we start discussing battle plans. Will you give us a minute, gentlemen?"
Corkus was apparently not the only one who felt the need for some fresh air and normality, because all the officers quickly and quietly filed out of the tent. But before he left, he threw a quick glance back at the half-demon princess, and felt a sharp stab in his chest as he saw her slowly trot up to Griffith , hands shyly clasped behind her back – trailing the heavy flail behind her. He snorted angrily to hide the pain and stomped away.
To be continued…
Ladybug: (sparkles intensively, so much that huge flowers are blooming around her) Oooooooh… So cooool! So awesome! The Mother is so cool, and Garou is too-too cuuuute… (suddenly grabs Pearlyblue and turns disgustingly huge and wet manga eyes on her) Ladybug wants one, Pearl ! Ladybug really, really wants one! Can Ladybug have one? Pleeeeease ?!
Pearlyblue (shocked) Wha- wha- what?
Wakko (dangerous gleam in eyes) Oh, I can give you one…
Pearlyblue (to Wakko) SHUT UP! (back to Ladybug) What? What do you want?
Ladybug: Ladybug wants an animal companion! A spirit beast! Everyone else has one! Sylvia does! Pleasepleasepleaseplease…!
Pearlyblue Ah… I… it's… ALL RIGHT! Okay. But you have to write to Mary-Sue Co. yourself and ask for one, okay?
Ladybug: (beams) Okay! (runs off)
Wakko …Mary-Sue Co.?
Pearlyblue I know, I know… I just made something up, off the top of my head. It'll get her out of our hair for a while…
Wakko …And then she'll forget all about it. Right. Good thinking.
Pearlyblue Thanks. So, let's get to the Reviewer Responses, then.
Wakko Sure. Thunder Mistress is first! (winks) Don't worry, hon, it'll take more than that to kill us off. And you're right – this section could use some more humorous fics… so why haven't you posted yours yet?
Pearlyblue NIclas… Hiya! Let me try to address your questions: 1) Um… technically, she can turn anything that she finds "Icky" or troublesome into something cute… something "Ladybug approved", if ya catch my drift. 2) …I can't really answer that in it's entirety right now, but yeah, you could say that. 3)…
Wakko The answer to three is: send me your address, your phone number and a picture of you in wet swimwear, as well as a note on sexual preference and I'll see what I can do…
Pearlyblue (elbows Wakko out of the way, glowering at her) Flirt on your OWN TIME, d-mn it! (clears throat) and 4) Er… Ta-daaah?
Wakko Sweet pal, Vitellio. (waves) Hi! You've got beer? Wanna share? (gets gleam back in eyes again and pushes up her breasts a little) I'll make it worth your while… (whispers) And yeah, that was my doing alright. These two would be so lost without me.
Pearlyblue The Crimson King-
Ladybug: (appears out of nowhere and grabs the sparkly crown) Whooaaaooow!! Ooh, thankyouthankyouthankyou! ( huggleglomps Crimson King to the point of strangulation, blushing cutely) Crimsie is the bestest bestest coolest of everyone, everywhere! Ladybug loves you, loves you, loves you! Ladybug's gonna wear this always, always! Oh, (releases death-grip slightly) But what is Ladybug going to give back to Crimsie? What would Crimsie like? Is there anything Ladybug can give to Crimsie in return?
Wakko …Oh, she is just so easy… (sighs) I wish I could… just once…
Pearlyblue (bops Wakko over the head) Snap out of it.
Wakko What? I'm just saying, with all that energy, think of what she would be like in bed…
Pearlyblue (measuring the blueness of Crimson King's face) …Yeah… (dryly) Wild. Do you seriously have a death wish or something?
Wakko Well… (pouts) I just thought it would be interesting, is all.
Pearlyblue Right. Moving on: Alien Without A cLuE – er… thank you? We are happy to have provided… a meal for you. Um. I hope you come back for seconds. Right.
Wakko magical- flyingdragon – Yeah… about that… yeah… hrm. Timmmme… Time works differently here and we really DID update quickly, only you're in a different… er… time-zone… and you know… computers can be… Dude! Must I explain everything to you?! (grins) Anyway, hope you liked it! Stay tuned!
Ladybug: (still huggling Crimson King) Kahuda… First review by new person! Yay! But what is it saying? Ladybug don't understand…
Pearlyblue and Wakko: (exchange guilty looks) Er… Yeah. Updated! Ta daaah…?
Until next time…
