Things are not always as they

seem; the first appearance

deceives many.

– Phaedrus

For Whom the Bell Tolls

As it turned out, we did not reach the village for a few more days. Inspired by his self-imposed quest, Yusuke filled the hours with music, urging us to practice late into the night. Songs from both kingdoms were necessary: dances, diddies, the choicest of ballads. Celebratory pieces for feast days, betrothals, and admittance into adulthood. There were also war songs, though none which called upon Yusuke's gods, as well as mournful death knells.

While many Gandaran songs were familiar to all, it took time for Yusuke to learn the tunes of the forest. Though we shared the same blood, my cousin had never been afforded opportunity to hear the melodies of the land, those closest to the heart of my people. Despite this handicap, he memorized each melody quickly, naturally talented in music. Hiei and I knew the mountain songs though not the battle hymns.

Kuwabara, however, was another story. While familiar with the folk pieces of Gandara, he'd never heard a Tourrite song before meeting Yusuke – dozens of Oni calling down thunder made a distinct impression. We took turns teaching him melodies, basic processions and how to play accompanied with other instruments. While the human lacked both experience and innate skill, he was a studious learner, continuing on even after everyone else retired. Kuwabara was also privy to something precious–

Yusuke's right as braughtneir, blood brother.

The third morning found their sleeping spots bare, gone into the forest at first light. A chatty cornflower told me of their workings, my cousin's teaching songs peculiar to the Urameshi clan. I did not know if he intended to perform them publicly though the gesture made me smile. All his life, Kuwabara had lived as an outcast, the leftover son of a dead noble. No relative dared challenge his uncle's control of the estate and though he inherited his birthright when the late lord passed, the damage was done. A lifetime of serfdom, laboring to protect his sister from an early marriage:

Never having a place to call his own.

One man changed that – an Oni with young horns and wild ways. Yusuke saw what I did but unlike him, I had no power to help, no authority outside of the court. The Kuwabaras were beloved by father though were not a priority, not when threats constantly pressed our borders. My cousin had no such distractions and even if he did, I doubt they would have changed his actions.

Such was why people loved him.

I spent the morning in idleness, chatting with the flora and collecting seeds from bobbing heads. If they knew where Hiei was, they kept such to themselves, revealing only that he'd left before dawn. He would not stray far, I knew this from experience:

He'd been overly concerned with my safety since we were children.

A rustling in the brush and I knew they'd returned, heralded by cousin's mouth.

"Remember, you've gotta look deep, like pulling guts out of your chest!"

Kuwabara noticeably paled but nodded anyway, clutching the leather sack. Yusuke carried his pipes over one shoulder, thick reeds clacking together with every step. They made quite a pair, the human and the Oni; one robed in a close-knit tunic and dark trousers, head and hands the only flesh visible. The other wore his kilt belted loosely at the hips, braids beating a naked chest and abdomen. Bare feet tramped boldly beside scuffed boots, civilization and wilderness lost in conversation.

The knight was the first to surface for air. "Oh, hey Kurama!"

"Good morning." I returned his smile. "Have you two eaten?"

"Yeah, hours ago." Yusuke snorted, crouching before our packs, mud-streaked face twisted in a scowl. "I'd kill for some fresh meat right now!"

A sigh as he dug in his bag, arms engulfed past the elbow. "Yusuke–"

"I know, I know," He grumbled, emerging with a fistful of venison jerky and dried fruit. "'No hunting in the King's forest'."

"But why?" Kuwbara gave a mumbled thanks at the provisions shoved into his hand, unconscious of the dirt smeared across his cheeks and nose. "Is hunting here forbidden to everyone but the King?"

"No." Drawing the seed pouch closed, I slipped it up one sleeve and into a shallow pocket. "Not even father could search out game here, if he felt so inclined."

Yusuke's mouth twisted around the bite, flashing fangs. "That's stupid. Why not?"

So I told them as they settled down, breaking a loaf of bread into pieces. The forest dated back to antiquity, a gift from the Mother. She made the trees to protect us: she knew others would come for us, lusting after our secrets. Such was why she taught my ancestors to speak to the land and gave the trees one duty at our birth – to protect her children. All of Gandara spawned from this forest and while the offshoots forgot their mission, these trees did not.

The forest would not tolerate violence from anyone, even those native to the land.

"That's why we can't do anything fun? Because we'd offend some trees?"

"Yes." I ignored my cousin's snort, palm pressing to a nearby trunk. "None are allowed to cause harm here, not even father."

A raised brow. "What about animals, the wolves and foxes?"

"Rest assured, nature is allowed to run its course. Predators still seek prey, and various species compete for mates. Only those made after the trees are not permitted to fight."

Kuwabara frowned. "So mortals can't fight?"

"And dragons."

The latter from Yusuke, picking crumbs from his plaid. Though they differed on many points, Tourrite and Gandaran lore agreed upon one thing – dragons and the mortal races came into being simultaneously. While my ancestors viewed them as strange entities best left alone, Yusuke's people embraced dragons wholeheartedly, accepting them as mountain guardians, teachers, brethren–

Until they betrayed us all.

"True, dragons cannot commit violence here, either. Such is all that saved the capital from them."

An awkward chuckle and Kuwabara leaned forward, polishing off the last of his breakfast. "Why are you guys acting like they're still around? The dragons died out a long time ago, everyone knows that!"

Yusuke sniffed, grinding crust between his fingers. "Maybe."

"Have either of you seen Hiei?" I interjected, conscious of my cousin's mood. "He's been gone all morning."

"Don't worry, he'll be back soon." Yusuke stood, patting dirt from his clothes. "Let's get some more practice in, tomorrow's the big day."

"Why tomorrow?" Kuwabara took up his stringed instrument thought set the bow across his knees, checking the tuning. "You've been saying that for days now. What's the big deal about tomorrow?"

A grin I nearly missed as my cousin took up his pipes, carefully strapping the drums atop either thigh. "You can't rush perfection. Besides," A flash of teeth, a look I knew better than to trust. "We're not ready yet."

Practice began once more in earnest, the three of us weaving everything from elaborate ballads to timeless ditties. The songs felt hollow without my companion's input though I would never admit such a thing – Hiei disliked praise. While Yusuke ran Kuwabara through various exercises, urging a fluid transition from the bow to fingers and back again. He seemed oddly concerned with my posture, focused on the straightness of my spine while nudging both legs close together.

Hiei appeared during one such correction, emerging from the trees with a carefully wrapped bundle.

"Just in time!" Yusuke released the instrument's main reed though his foot remained on my thigh, toes pressing. "So, did you get the goods?"

My companion stared for a moment though made no comment on our positioning; he knew better than to oppose a prince's whims. Rather, he tossed the packet at Yusuke.

"What's that?" Kuwabara asked, peeking over the Oni's shoulder.

"This," A wider grin as Yusuke pulled the packaging away, unfurling the hidden thing, "is what's going to sell our act!"

A dress hung from his hands, carefully crafted with delicate stitching. The shade of a midsummer's forest, the sleeveless thing fell past his toes, kept off the ground only by a calculated reach. Low cut and alluring, the neckline was embroidered with yellow thread, doubtlessly to amplify an ample bosom. Before we could fully admire the garment, Yusuke pulled more from the hide wrappings. An undergarment the color of cream with long arms, a woman's leather boots. Blue exploded in his hands, a generous sash dyed after spring skies, along with a headdress of evergreen.

We did not know what to make of these, though I hid my surprise better than Kuwabara – I'd grown accustomed to my cousin's antics. "A gift for an admirer?"

"You could say that." He snickered before glancing at me, a smirk curling his lips. "Strip."

I cannot say which was paler, my face or the undergarment in his hand.

"What do you mean 'strip'?" Kuwabara cried, rising to my defense. "You can't ask the prince to take his clothes off in public!"

"You see anyone around?" Yusuke didn't bother waiting for a response before turning back to me, grinning. "All right, fox boy, take 'em off."

Hiei refused to look at me. "May I at least ask why?"

"How else will we know if the dress fits unless you try it on?"

All color drained from Kuwabara's face and though sounds spewed from his lips, no true words formed. I felt my jaw tighten. "Pardon?"

"Oh, come on! You didn't you could just travel across the kingdom without a disguise, did you? Do you have any idea how much you're worth?"

Dead assassins and would-be kidnappers flashed but I shook my head, banishing the images. "That's not the issue–"

"The longer the princess is missing, the more guilty my old man looks. I don't want a war with Hyouga but if those ice witches come after Tourrin, I'm not holding back. Besides, I don't have time to look for you if you get kidnapped." He shook out the sleeveless dress, holding it out.

Grimacing at the thing, I crossed my arms, raising one brow. "What about you? As the crown prince of Tourrin, can you afford to be seen traveling without your rams?"

"That's the great thing about having a bad reputation – everyone knows I do what I want." A flash of teeth, an impatient gesture. "Now hurry up and try this on, we don't have all day!"

In no time at all, he was helping me into the dress, adjusting the undergarment amidst Kuwabara's complaints. "Aren't you going to stop him?" He demanded of my companion, motioning to the spectacle.

Hiei glanced our way but said nothing, content with keeping watch.

"You're wasting your breath." Yusuke pulled at the generous bodice, arranging it just so before picking up the sash. "This whole thing was Hiei's idea."

While I did not believe he acted alone in the matter, Hiei said nothing in his defense, watching the proceedings from the corner of his eye.

Before I knew it, my cousin had finished with the boots and was helping me stand. "Nice, very nice." He nodded, slipping the headdress over my hair. "Pretty as a painting!"

The other two, however made no comment; Kuwabara appeared close to tears. "You can't be serious?"

But he was. I could tell by the look in Yusuke's eye, the lightness of his step as he stalked about, admiring his handiwork.

"You could at least tell us your plan." I said dryly as he slipped his hand into the vacant bosom, making a fist across first one nipple, then the other.

"Like I said, this is your disguise." After receiving permission, he dove into my pack, retrieving pouches of seeds. "We need to find the princess as soon as possible, right?"

I knew he did not expect an answer and stood quickly, rummaging in his own bag, pulling out a harness of sorts with two empty coin purses attached. "And we can't do that if you're recognized everywhere we go. I mean, you stick out like a sore thumb."

That much was true; I appeared neither human nor of the royal line. I was truly my mother's son; I saw myself in every portrait of her.

Also, I was the first Gandaran born with red hair in centuries.

"So, all we gotta do is slip a dress on you, slap on some boobs and bam! Perfect disguise! Nobody will think twice about it."

The headdress did hide my hair, though I dared not breathe a word of it.

"W-wait a minute!" Kuwabara finally found his voice, storming to the Oni. "He can't just pretend to be a girl! What if–" His face flushed, though whether from anger or something else I could not tell. "What if a guy flirts with him?"

A sound surprisingly like a snort from Hiei and Yusuke chuckled, stuffing various seeds into the purses. "Don't worry, Kurama's going to be my woman – if someone wants to get at her, they'll have to go through me."

The poor knight paled further as my cousin continued to stuff the purses; Kuwabara appeared ready to faint. "Yeah, but–"

"Don't worry, this will work – I've done it a hundred times." Drawing the tightly packed purses closed, Yusuke pressed at them until the seeds shifted to form a cone shape, fitting them once more beneath the layers of female attire. He nodded to himself before withdrawing the strange contraption, slipping back to his pack. "Now to make something that'll make it stick."

After several minutes of working ingredients with a mortar and pestle, my cousin produced a sweet smelling paste of ambiguous color. He wasted no time in having me take off the garments and sit down, crouching before me to spread the mixture across my chest. I'd long since given up fighting, knowing it was pointless. Kuwabara was on the verge of tears.

Pressing the make-shift breasts to the paste, he coated the outside edges with the rest of the concoction, holding both in place until the stuff dried. I'd seldom seen my cousin so serious as when he held that fake bosom.

The process would have been humorous, were it happening to anyone else.

"And done!"

I frowned at the green skirts and amplified cleavage, the plaster itching my skin. True enough, the attire hid any trace of masculinity, paying homage instead to narrow hips, slim waist and a bosom which appeared all too real. My reflection in the water proved it–

A woman stood before them, not a man.

"Of course, you can't talk dressed up like that. Even I can't change your voice." Yusuke grinned, glancing to the others. "So, what do you think?"

Kuwabara shook his head, mumbling something I could not understand. Hiei held his tongue though I saw a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Yep, this is going to work." My cousin nodded, needing no one's approval but his own. "Go on, move around. How does it feel?"

I obeyed, taking a few steps, lifting both arms experimentally. "As well as can be expected."

"See? It's not that bad! Now for the real test." He took up my lyre, passing the instrument to me. "Try playing something."

Edris Vas Walden filled the air moments later, my head bowed, fingers busy with the tune. Pressing the instrument to my shoulder, I found the makeshift breast held beneath its weight, though the entire process was uncomfortable.

Yusuke could not have looked more pleased. "Perfect."

Hiei's POV

The fool wanted me to play first.

Another groan from Kuwabara – a plea to reconsider – but the Oni would have none of it, looking over Kurama once more. Yusuke ran through drills with the fox the day before from noon until dusk, pressing matters of posture, bearing and feminine habits. Eventually, even he admitted Kurama could not stand and play with his legs together, the awkwardness of breasts hindering his hands.

So they decided he would play sitting down, like a proper lady.

The prince tried to catch my eye but I wouldn't allow it, focusing on the village, the trees, any hint of danger. Despite what Kaito said, the Crown was not loved by all – Kurama learned that the hard way. Cheeks flushed, he touched the false bosom despite Yusuke's warnings, fingering the embroidered bodice, the trailing skirts. Let him hate his predicament, his cousin; let him hate me.

As long as he was safe, none of that mattered.

A crow called above the trees, piercing through their groanings. The forest whispered safety, sheltering the bird among stout branches. Pleasant words, leaves pressing to my hand even as black eyes watched, feathered shadows falling on my face–

They could have their promises.

"So what are we supposed to do?" Kuwabara asked, clutching the stringed thing to his chest.

"Like I said, Hiei will play first and we'll fall in behind him." The bells at Yusuke's wrists and ankles chimed, boots tucked into the pack on his back. Drums strapped to both hips, he allowed the piped thing to hang over his abdomen, motioning toward the village. "He'll lead us to the square and we'll set up shop. Kuwabara and I will help entertain while our 'lady' gets settled," A glare from the fox, which he ignored, "then the real fun begins!"

The village was formed from living trees, just like Schloss Wald and every other Gandaran settlement. Kurama's people could live without flora no more than fish could survive outside of water. Dwellings of varying sizes rested between the great roots, walls formed from moss, thrushes, and woven vines. No glass marked the windows, doors nothing more than dried reeds fastened together. The villagers believed themselves safe, protected by the King's Forest:

They should have known better.

Another caw and I stiffened, resisting the urge to reach for my blades. Doing so would warrant death here – the trees would kill us without remorse. Still, I couldn't shake the sensation, daggers gnawing at my spine:

A familiar pair of eyes.

"You ready?"

I glanced at Yusuke, the bit of bone clacking with the bells – an annoyance but easy enough to ignore. He was too excited, oblivious to the wind, the fickle nature of Gandarans. They cared for the trees – the flower's song – and little else. Though allies, they cared nothing for Yusuke's people, their warring ways and crazed King. The entire world could burn and they would not care, so long as their forests remained untouched.

Why else would King Yomi send only us?

"You're forgetting one thing, cousin." Kurama said dryly, stepping carefully in the skirts.

Yusuke raised both brows, awaiting an answer.

"Hiei is the only Gandaran with red eyes and like you, his reputation precedes him – he will be recognized at once as my vassal."

"Way ahead of you, fox boy." He grinned, fangs cresting his lip. "Hiei wasn't born here, right? He came from somewhere else, another country."

I stiffened as the bells sounded again, fighting a quickened pulse, the heat pooling in my stomach.

The Prince showed far more restraint than expected, frown firm yet still polite. "You already know the answer, Yusuke."

"That's the beauty of it though! Don't you see? He doesn't have an accent, special features, nothing to mark him as being from here. Nobody outside the royal court has ever seen him." He thumbed his nose, bells tinkling. "There are all kinds in Tourrin, Oni, Harpies, Selkies, you name it! Most stay to themselves but all are still part of the old man's domain."

"Get to the point." I snapped, fist clenched where none could see. Kurama glanced my way but remained silent, patience dwindling, face flushed with the heat contained by the dress.

"If anyone asks, we'll just say you came with me from home." The pipes sighed when he shifted, tossing straggling braids over one shoulder. "It wouldn't be a stretch – I can think of a few red-eyed kind from the mountains."

The bells sounded, louder this time. I ground my jaw, toes digging into the earth, breaths unsteady. Don't give in; fight. Fear is for the weak, the spineless. Remember. Always remember:

You belong to–

"What of a dialect, the nuances of your tongue?" Kurama shook his head, green fabric flapping against his cheeks. "Hiei cannot possibly adopt those."

But I didn't hear their argument, lost in the bells. Laughter hid in those crevices, echoes of times far and near. Slender hands, flushed skin; pleading, screaming. Vertu kyrr. Vertu kyrr–

Sársauki er ánægja.

"Got that?"

I started at Yusuke's voice, the sudden silence. All three stared yet didn't utter a word; I couldn't fathom my expression. Not that it mattered:

The bells stopped.

"Just stay quiet when we're playing and around other people, okay? I don't care what you do after we're done, just don't talk to anyone besides us, okay?"

I nodded, tongue dying against my will.

If the Oni minded ordering another man's servant, he didn't show it, moving to give Kuwabara some final instructions. A roaring flooded my ears, drowning out all but the command:

Such was the power of the bells.

"Hiei."

Kurama's voice close to my ear, piercing through the fog. He was near, less than a hands-breadth away yet refused to touch me, fingers pressed to the ridiculous garment. I saw his concern, the silent sea churning his gaze yet couldn't find the strength to answer. Not that he expected one:

He knew what the bells could do.

"Ready?"

Yusuke grinned at the ocarina in my hands, nudging me before the rest.

"It's showtime!"

A/N: Hello and welcome back! Apologies for the long wait – other projects and real life have taken up much of my time. Also, this chapter was slow in coming and had to be rewritten three times; I hope everyone enjoyed the end result, even though it's not as long as usual.

So we have a Prince in drag and unease in the King's Forest. Will Kurama's disguise fool anyone? What's the deal with Hiei and bells? Find out next time, feel free to leave a review!

Vertu kyrr – be still

Sársaukieránægja – pain is pleasure