Usagi
Unlike the other dresses I had worn, this one was black as night.
I couldn't help but laugh. It was a little on the nose: One night with Dimande and I no longer wore white. His touch had poisoned my well. My purity had soured underneath his power.
Unlike my other dresses, too, this one was alarmingly tight. It was made of velvet and had a high neck, and its silhouette was meant to hug every inch of my body all the way to the floor. A high slit off my left thigh was sensual and seductive, a stitch of fair skin amid a sea of black.
Admiring myself in the mirror seemed sacrilegious. Why was it so hard to admit I liked how I felt? Being with Dimande made electricity roll across my skin. His touch was impatient, as if he feared each kiss would be his last, and I invited his devotion to me. I had been an afterthought before—forgotten, discarded—but to him, I was the center of the world.
And, to top it off, he had shown me his intentions were pure. Pitre, too, has surprised me. How long had I agonized about our meeting in the hours before? The ghastly figure he came as was merely a curse, one so fearsome that it would make anyone second guess his motives. But I had managed to see through it and it felt like my trust in him restored the faith in my mission as Sailor Moon.
For the first time in what felt like forever, I was useful again. I wasn't standing idly behind a comic book store counter or listlessly waiting for Mamoru to arrive somewhere. I wasn't checking my phone every five seconds, triple checking my messages to see whether any of my friends had bothered to reach out. I wasn't watching every day pass me by as if I was a mere participant in my life instead of the main character.
Here, in this dimension, I was needed, wanted, desired.
By the time I made my way down to the grand ballroom, a slew of guests had already arrived. I recognized no one, but every single person glittered and gleamed in their finest gowns. Jewels sparkled and I could hear a woman's laugh drift up through the room. In the air wafted the smells of a delicious buffet of food: sweet and savory, thick with garlic and salt.
I had been in this room a few times before during my stay at the castle, but tonight it was polished to its finest. The room was gold through and through, safe for the onyx floor, with rich tapestries of royal blue and white strewn from side to side. Thousands of fairy lights floated above the crowd creating a soft light that made everything glisten.
Music filled the air, too, and I saw an enchanted quartet stationed in the far left corner of the room right next to a small platform where a large, gilded chair sat empty. A throne waiting for a king. Or a prince.
My eyes lazily drifted over the crowd when I felt a hand on my waist spin me around.
"You look delicious enough to eat," Dimande purred in my ear.
His voice made my heart flutter.
Our night of passion had left me reeling. It was like I came alive under his touch. There was something in him that I could not describe, like when I was with him there were no questions of why or when or how. The bitter feelings of abandonment just crumbled away.
Like me, he was dressed all in black, his air slicked back with a tendril falling slightly out of place, cascading above his brilliant purple eyes. Energy vibrated off of him, making him feel powerful and all encompassing. Standing that close to him nearly brought me to my knees. The feeling bubbling under my skin made me lightheaded. As his hand caressed my back, shivers flowed down my spine.
The crowd hushed suddenly and everyone turned their attention to the dias. Pitre had made his grand entrance.
He was not the boyish man I had met this morning. He was still small, slender with pinkish skin, but there was something different about him-something more complex. His hair had been combed and styled, his curls now coiled perfectly around his face, and he wore a deep burgundy suit that was sleek and fitted. On his wrist was a brilliantly gold watch that caught the light perfectly.
Adoring onlookers corralled around him and whispered to one another as he came to the front of the platform. He raised his hands and the murmur died.
"Everyone," his voice was powerful. "Thank you so much for celebrating my return."
Everyone began clapping, but Pitre raised his hands again to quiet them once more.
"After many years in the River, I am finally back to avenge my people—our people," he motioned to the crowd. I was surprised. I had not realized that everyone in attendance were the people also put under the evil queen's curse. I examined them closer.
As he spoke, each of them smiled lovingly in his direction. Wherever he had been from, he was beloved by all who knew him—I could see as their eyes glazed over in adoration. Each person was relatively young, all donning wild colors that spanned all shades of the rainbow. One woman had deep, sepia skin and a yellow dress that melted around her, her long, black hair fixated into intricate braids that looked like a crown. Another woman had bronze skin that was so smooth, it almost looked metal, and against the teal of her bodice it was otherworldly.
They were all so beautiful.
"Please dance and eat," Pitre smiled. "Make yourselves at home. And be sure to stick around because I have a very special surprise for later this evening."
An excited murmur drifted through the crowd as everyone wondered what it could possibly be. With that, the music started again and I felt Dimande take my hand.
"You heard the man," he grinned. "I say we dance."
The crowd parted and couples came to the dance floor. As the enchanted instruments played, everyone fell into their own step, skirts swishing across the perfectly marbled floor. Dimande was an incredible dancer and as we moved along, it was like we were floating. Together we moved, one of his hands on my waist and the other holding mine with a gentleness that made me quiver.
It was so easy with him. There was no empty promise, there was no waiting. Everything I wanted he gave me without question. Was this what it was like to be loved for who I was and not who I was destined to be? A man who I once despised was now making me feel more like myself than I had in years.
When the song finally came to an end, my head was spinning.
Dimande must've seen the haziness in my eyes because he led me off the floor and through the double doors that led into the gardens. Outside was just as brilliant. Magical lights floated aimlessly over the dazzling flowers and up above in the interstellar sky the moon glowed a brilliant silver. It was something out of a fairytale.
We walked hand-in-hand for a while not saying anything, just admiring the scenery and casting loving gazes at one another. In the moonlight, Dimande looked so beautiful it was almost crushing.
"I don't want to ruin a good thing," Dimande said quietly, the smile fading from his face. "But I do think we need to discuss what happens now."
I nodded my head. In the whirlwind we found ourselves in, I hadn't thought much about what happened next. Now that Pitre's curse was lifted, there was no need for either Dimande or myself to stay here. A fire burned within me for him but I had a life back home, and if I disappeared completely, my friends would come looking for me eventually.
I started thinking about how many days had passed. Five. It had been five whole days since I had arrived here. The rush of blood I felt with Dimande's warm hand in mine suddenly went cold.
Why had no one come for me?
"Is everything alright?" Dimande asked sweetly. I tried to stifle my sadness but it was written across my face.
"No one ever came for me." I looked down and tried to hold back the tears beginning to form. "I at least thought they would try."
He was silent and I was, too. Another stake in the heart of who I used to be. In this new life, I felt the electricity I used to, the rush of being consumed by something and letting yourself succumb to it. But it didn't dull the ache of realizing I was no longer important to the people I held most dear.
"Usagi," Dimande said. "You don't have to go back—if you don't want to."
I looked at him. His eyes were luminescent in the moonlight, full of hope and wanting. Would it be crazy to stay with him? To abandon the life I had been dreaming of for the past several years?
I leaned in and gently kissed him. He brought his hand to my face and gently caressed my cheek. He deepened our kiss, pulling me closer to him until we were so close I could feel his heartbeat through his chest. He wrapped his arms around me and ran his fingers along my back.
He broke our kiss but his hands continued to dig deep. He was breathless.
"I want you," he whispered. "I want you right here."
"Outside?" Excitement surged. I could feel myself getting wet at the thought of making love to him within earshot of the party. Never in my life had I done something so devious.
"Yes." He trailed kisses against my neck. "Come with me."
He grabbed my hand and we rushed back toward the doors to the ballroom, but instead of going inside, he continued walking along the palace's edge. Around a corner was a covered walkway made of ivory stone, the top slatted and dripping in ivy. It was darker over there and a bit further away from the party than where we stood in the garden, but it was still dangerously close.
He pressed my back against the cool wall of the castle. I bristled as it cooled my burning skin. He kissed me again, grinding me against the wall, and it was all I could do to rip his clothes right off.
Without his mouth leaving mine, he grabbed at my dress and shoved the fabric up, the skirt giving way thanks to the airy slit. It was bunched at my hips, his hands ensuring it would stay in place, but it still hung somewhat in front of me. He let me go for just a second, desperately clawing at his pants, revealing himself into the night air.
I was already swimming in desire. I was ready for him. Right there in the open he pulled aside my black lace panties and entered me, thrusting hard as if dying for release. I was drunk off of him. Each movement felt better than the last and I had to cover my mouth to stifle a scream of pleasure.
His lips crashed into mine. He needed me more than he needed anything else in this world, and I was more than happy to give myself to him. Underneath my leg, I felt his knee press up, hoisting me higher on the wall, and his hands clasped tight to lock me into position. He wanted me to be deeper, to be closer.
Suddenly, he put me back on the ground, whipping my shoulders around so I was facing the wall. I braced myself against the stone and pushed out my hips toward him, the fabric of my dress still riding up my core. Once more he found his way to me, one hand on my hip and the other gently wrapped around my neck.
I wanted him to press harder, to make it hurt just a little, but I never got the nerve.
His breathing increased and at my center the pressure was building. It was like he was made just for me, that I was the only woman in this world—hell, this dimension—that could satiate the hunger growing inside of him.
And with that, I came undone. As my orgasm ripped through me, his came too. We both stood motionless for a second and the thrill of what we had done came clear into view. We were wild animals stripping ourselves of the conventions polite society is bound to. I didn't care where or when, I didn't care if anyone saw us, all I cared about was waking up every single day and making love to this man. Quickly I fixed my panties and pulled down the sides of my dress, inspecting that it had no rips or unwanted stains. Dimande fastened his pants and gave me a devious smile.
"Damn you," he growled seductively. "You are a temptress."
I laughed and kissed him before looking around to make sure no one had seen. In the background I could hear the music from the party and the indistinct chatter coming from the hall's open doors. What I had done was so wrong—and it felt even more taboo knowing my panties were soaked with his cum.
Hand in hand, we hurried back to the ballroom, our cheeks still flushed and laughing like we were teenagers who had just discovered all the wonderful possibilities of sex. As we entered the ballroom again, no one looked at us or even regarded our reentry. It was like we had never even left the party.
We danced more, drank champagne that danced on our tongues, stole kisses in the back of the crowd while people ate and carried on. I had not been that happy in so long. My heart was bursting with the content that I once feared gone for good. Maybe a life with Dimande could be one just like this. Maybe I could choose a life I wanted—not a life I was destined to. I had not yet given him my answer, but I knew what I was going to do.
I was going to stay.
After what seemed like several hours of this, Pitre stood and raised his hands. Silence fell over the crowd and a sea of attentive eyes all fell to the newly-restored wizard.
"As promised, my surprise." A smile crawled across his face. To his left a tapestry lifted, revealing a doorway. In the entryway stood two people I never thought I would ever see again.
Saphir looked as handsome as he had the first day we met, but there was a new definition around his jaw and cheeks that made him look older. Esmeraude was standing next to him, her beautiful green hair flowing wildly down her back. Joy washed over me and I had to stop myself from running to them. I heard Dimande's breath hitch and I could tell he, too, was resisting a spectacle.
But their faces were stone cold and serious. They did not look happy to see us.
Slowly they crossed the floor and directly to us, each step echoing off the walls of the room. No one spoke—no one hardly moved—as they made their way over to us. I expected some sort of reaction out of them, but not the one I got: their expressions were concerned and somewhat angry. All the eyes in the room followed them, including Pitre, who looked all too pleased with himself. I glanced over at Dimande who was searching his brother's face for an explanation. When he finally stood in front of us, Saphir opened his arms and took his brother in them.
"Dimande," he whispered loud enough for me to hear. "You've made a foolish mistake."
Before he had a chance to respond, it was Pitre again who spoke.
"Everyone, please welcome my very special guests Saphir and Esmeraude," Pitre's voice sang. "Fresh from the Gates of Hell."
Just then the lights went black and a roar of screams jolted me from my place. I reached out for Dimande, but I couldn't find him. A hand came from behind and wrapped around my bicep, then started dragging me backward. I tried to scream, but before I could, I felt a palm clasp over my lips.