Oh my, I've actually passed the 100 mark. /cheers/ Yes, sadly enough, I am celebrating this blessed event. Why? Because I am a simple, little author with probably no great skill or imagination. I mean, someone in the fanfic community once told me, "You're not great until you've passed the five-hundred mark on your stories consistently." That dashed my hopes. /sighs/
I bet he meant well but still… /ego crushed/
Chapter Eight: From Swan's Flight
My eyes slowly flickered open as I saw Shizuka bustling about the room. She was nimble and graceful on her feet, her hair glowing red-brown in the dim light. I had no trouble imagining her under the sea, a lovely, lithe mermaid who Ryouji and Honda especially would chase after and seek. That sweet voice and innocently empty gray eyes would captivate anyone down there. She had an air about here that was very ethereal, not quite solid in the world, and reminded me of the ocean, both present and ghostly.
"Good morning, young master," she said cheerfully, opening the windows and letting golden light wash over her in a veil of bright yellow. "I hope you've slept well."
I nodded, managing to sit up within my enormous bed. How curious it was to feel silk smoothly over my new legs, soothing me as my feet faintly ached from my exertions of the night before.
She came over, holding a tray. "I took the liberty of bringing you breakfast. Most of the nobles here don't bother to go to the dining hall for the morning meal."
I nodded again as she gently set the tray over my lap. It had delicate little legs, like a table, to raise the tray above my legs, filled with plates and silverware, fragrant steam rising from a china vessel. I stared at the colorful array of food, tentatively picking at it.
Shizuka saw my difficulty and giggled. "You must certainly come from a strange place. This is how you do it." She held my hand and put one of the silver utensils in it, wrapping my fingers about it.
She taught me how to eat, naming the foods for me. Porridge in particular was disgusting and tasteless, despite the "cream" and "sugar" she heaped into it upon seeing my grimace, along with honey and bits of colorful fruits. I liked toast though, spread liberally with butter and jams. She giggled when I dug in enthusiastically, or rather, too enthusiastically, getting jam smeared all over my nose, patting my face clean with a soft napkin. I only wrinkled my nose at her, making her giggle even louder.
Shizuka helped me get dressed after breakfast, in a costume similar to what the maids had put me in the night before. She ran a brush through my hair. "There! You look fit for the prince!" she said, clapping with a laugh.
I smiled back at her and she curtseyed, giggling merrily. The door slowly opened. Shizuka turned and swiftly dipped in a deeper curtsey. "Your highness," she murmured.
Yami slowly walked in, nodding to her with all the grace and nobility of a well-taught royal, neither haughty nor meek, but gracious and sincerely thankful. It was another reason to love him.
He studied me intently. "I trust you had a pleasant night?" he asked, making me shiver at the rumble of his voice. I nodded and swiftly bowed in time, realizing my manners.
He only laughed softly. "No need for such formality, little foundling of the sea," he said.
I flushed, about to protest voicelessly. He offered his arm. "Come. Let me show you about the castle. I trust you have also had breakfast?"
I nodded once again, taking his arm. He nodded politely to Shizuka, who curtseyed once again. "Good day, highness," she murmured.
"Shizuka has been treating you well, I hope?" Yami asked, once he had led me out of the room. I nodded, trying to convey my sincerity through my eyes and hide the sharp pain of walking from him.
Yami smiled. "That is good. Her elder brother is one of my most trusted guards; it is hard to find those more loyal than the children of House Jounouchi."
This morning, not many courtiers were up, probably off still slumbering in their chambers, resting from the festivities of the night before. How unlike the sea, where the palaces were almost always alive with song and light, save in the darkest times just before the sun's rays gently danced through the crystal waters, when the Court rested briefly, savoring silence that made music and life all the sweeter when they returned. I felt a brief burst of pain in remembering, a pain in my heart that lingered and faded slowly, still staying in my heart like warmth that still stayed in the higher waters after the sun went down.
Yami showed me about the castle, exploring the nobility's quarters peppered with ancient family crests and tapestries, the guest quarters with royal colors and insignias (I was housed in the finer rooms, of all honors), the bathing rooms with their marble tiles and porcelain pools, the stillroom and kitchens with slumbering cooks and chambermaids, the libraries with piles upon piles of leather books and heavy ironwood desks and chairs and the small drawing rooms used to hold classes in dancing and music with airy ceilings and elegant little chairs. Flowers bloomed in many of the rooms, sweet yellow and white puffs of slender petals in delicate spun blue glass vases and papery red and white bells drooping over urns of heavy green glazed pottery, with humble wild flowers, tiny and almost garish, as profuse as the elegantly cultured rose and lily in the castle. Elegant brass lamps, looking like gold, held plump white tapers, some unlit, some fiery, letting off trails of that heavy, honey smell of beeswax, were at the walls, illuminating rooms and hallways with glass globes like glowing bubbles of yellow and orange.
For a while, we walked in silence, slipping through the palace like spirits, impishly sneaking past, like we were still children, naughty in getting out of bed in the wee hours to wander about in a world untouched by provincial things, where sleep still had its crown over others, and the world began, unnoticed by those who did not know of these things. But then music started, gentle melodies, from the cheerful whistling of a passing servant to something more elegant, more classical. The little songs of the day were gently nudged aside for a greater tune and symphony, something that caught the ear in its glorious beauty, so much different from the more provincial, humble songs of the day. This was a song for castles and royals, grand and elegant and beyond the simple staples. I tilted my head, enraptured by that sweet, lingering sound.
Yami soon lingered before a door where these sweet melodies came before softly opening it. Inside was a pleasant room in pearl gray and white and black. An enormous instrument was within the center and a white-haired man played, pouring symphonies upon symphonies of the most beautiful song, each note perfect. I recognized it, though it was a different form, as the instrument Lord Ryou had played the night before. The keys were the very same, the sounds similar in tone, but richer, fuller. Windows upon one side let daylight in, illuminating the shadows of chairs and instruments of wood and metal carefully set aside. The prince closed the door softly behind us. I could only stare, enraptured by that beautiful song, sweet and unsullied, genuine and emotional.
But it was so sad. Each song ripped into me like a scythe of purest silver, like the claws of a dying swan. Each note did not sing pure joy but sorrow and mystery. I could feel tears rising in my eyes as I listened, hearing a thousand tragedies within the sweet sadness. It was only until the musician pounded on the keys of the instrument, pale hands dancing in a frenzy across ivory and ebony bars, spelling out some great and terrible finale that ended in a chord that was both discordant and beautiful, horrifyingly abrupt, and ended that chain of a thousand pains and sins, and looked at us, did I realize he was the shadowed man from the night before, the musician who had coaxed such beautiful music from that strange, intricate instrument for the enslaved singers.
"Your highness," he said, standing up immediately to bow.
"Worry not, Lord Bakura," Yami said, raising a hand. "I apologize for interrupting."
The man blushed a little in the shadows, stray strands of white hair straggling from his neat tail and falling into his pale, effeminate face and dark brown eyes. "Just my morning practice, my lord," he said softly, his voice whispery and girlish, as of a soprano's as of yet unbroken.
I lifted my hand to my eyes and could feel moisture. Feeling a little embarrassed, I rubbed at them with the cuff of my sleeve. Yami noticed it and smiled softly at me.
"It seems my friend is not left unaffected by your music, my friend," Yami said.
Lord Bakura blushed deeper. He came over, offering his handkerchief. "It is a rare one who can put so much into listening to music," he said, offering it to me with a bow.
I took it back and smiled at him, mouthing my thanks as I dabbed at my eyes and rubbed at my suddenly blazing cheeks. He smiled back, shyly. Not only was his voice and face effeminate, I realized, but his affectations. It was perhaps in the way he carried himself, the way his hands nervously played with the lace upon his shirt cuffs and the ends of his hair, his habit of blushing prettily and jumping at nearly every loud sound.
He did not seem one for fashion and grand things, though his clothing was certainly of good make. A high collared frock coat of soft cream trimmed with piping of black, vest of faded blue-gray, shirt of white with only the minimum of lace and folds, and breeches of a similar blue gray as his vest. The clothing had a tendency to hang on his frail frame, despite being made for him, making his startlingly small body all the more striking.
He looked at me. "Perhaps you can come to me for music lessons? You seem to have a good ear." He touched my hand, too boldly, pulling it to him and examining my fingers. "Beautiful bone structure, though you are a little small…" Then he blushed quickly and dropped my hand. "Excuse my impudence."
"Fear not, my friend," Yami said. "I'm sure our friend does not mind." He looked at me, though did not impose.
I looked at Bakura and smiled reassuringly. This man intrigued me and stirred something like pity. What had happened to this shy, pretty man who played so sweetly but so sadly? I nodded to the piano and nodded again.
He stared at me then realized what I was trying to communicate. "Ah! You will? Splendid!"
"If you can also teach him to read and write, Ryou?" Yami asked. "That is, if you cannot…" He looked at me.
I blushed and shook my head. Then my heart leapt. If I could write, I could write my declaration of love for him! It was that simple. My eagerness must have shown in my face because Yami chuckled. "He will be a very avid student, my friend."
Ryou smiled. "I will not have to worry about the rod," he said, in uncharacteristic teasing. "He is quiet."
"Try to speak up, though, my good friend, when you're with him, or the flies will be the loudest in the room!" Yami teased, and both the musician and I blushed in midst of his laughter.
In a brief respite after the chat with the music instructor, the prince took me before an enormous window looking over the ocean. My heart leapt into my throat at the view, at looking out to a seemingly endless horizon of blue sea touched with the gold of the sun. I felt dizzy in that moment, utterly exhilarated and feeling like I was flying through the air with my feet still planted on the carpeted ground.
Yami carefully moved to my side. "It seems you are truly enamored of the sea, child."
I only smiled at him. He didn't know how much the sea was part of me. The ocean's song reached me from here, reminding me I was never alone. How foolish I had been to think that it had abandoned me!
Something warm was in my heart now, banishing the pain of everything else, leaving me dizzy and utterly light. It took a moment for me to realize that I was happy.
Not satisfied, not amused. Happy, in all sense of the word. I smiled and laughed silently, here over the sea like a swan, with the one I loved most right by me.
It was the happiest day of my life.
Mail bag! Though why they're here and not up on the top… Don't ask.
Master Elora Dannan: I'm glad I captured you with that tagline. It was a risk but it was worth it! Just so there's no spoilers I can safely reveal that the girl who found the prince was NOT Anzu/Téa. By the way, in the original tale, that girl doesn't end up with the prince, because she's technically a nun.
Strega: Wow, you've taken it to a new level. It was all subconscious on my part, I swear. But Yuugi is that type of person, to be selfless and to be utterly devoted to the person he loves because he does have the innocence in him.
Anime Crazed: Pegasus is nutty. Period. He plays a different role here though. I think I like him this way. He's actually quite deep if you think about it.
Uadzet: Sorry, love, I can't do that. I have enough on my plate to do personal service. All you have to do is use Story Alert.
xamosy: It is the original fairy tale, to an extent. And I can't tell you the ending. You'll have the fret about it on your own. –evil smile-
Omega Scorpio: You might want to reread that chapter then. Pegasus the witch warned Yugi of the double price. The pain in the "gift" and the "payment." Hint: Yugi didn't even have legs until he fell unconscious on the beach after drinking the potion.
Carmen-Nemrac, zodiacalsign, Mikomi Rae, lola, SoulDreamer, Magician's Guardian24: Thanks for the reviews, They're appreciated!