Author's Note: I suppose it's been a long time coming now, but I finally sat myself down to write out this sequel. I'd played with the idea for a long time, not sure if I wanted to do it, but as I couldn't get it out of my head here it is. I hope I do all the characters justice. If not, please tell me when I slip up. Especially as this will be first real hand at all the Goukaiger characters. :) Constructive Criticism is always welcomed.
Disclaimer: I do not own Shinkenger, Goukaiger, or any of their characters. I simply borrow them for amusement.
Fiat Justitia Ruat Coelum
Chapter One: Word of Advice
Mako awoke exhausted in the early hours of another cold gray dawn her fingers reaching out for the warmth of another only to meet cold, frigid air. Her eyes opened blearily as reality crashed back in around her. With a bleak frown she drew her hand back and ran it through her hair instead as her heart gave a twinge of pain. It appeared that habits weren't easily broken – or forgotten.
She stretched out on her tiny cot, her limbs aching from being held in such a tight, stiff position for so long. The narrow space didn't allow for much movement, nor was its thin surface very comfortable. It was a purely functionary piece of furniture, if even that.
A soft sound, not even a true noise, roused her from her bed. Drawing the scratchy blanket close, Mako climbed off the cot to settle on the cold, stone floor next to the tiny basket she kept at her bedside. With a soft cooing sound she lifted the bundle of clothes and rags into her arms and rocked it back and forth.
With gentle fingers Mako shifted the blankets aside, shivering in the cold. She smiled, though her eyes were tired, to see that the quiet, dark eyes looking up at her were as bright and curious as always.
"Good morning, little one. How did you manage to sleep through the storm last night?" She asked as she drew him closer inside her arms and blanket before moving back to sit on the cot. It wasn't any more comfortable than the floor, but it was better than having the aching chill leeching into her body from the frigid stones beneath her rump.
Another quiet sound came from the bundle in her arms. "I know, I know. You're hungry." She shifted the warm weight in her arms and adjusted her clothing so that he could reach what he wanted. With a quiet sigh Mako leaned against the stone wall behind her, eyes sliding shut as she fed the child in her arms.
She awoke with a start at a quiet knock on her door. Realizing she had drifted off with a pang of alarm, Mako looked down at the tiny bundle to see a dreaming, contented face looking back at her. With a silent sound of relief she straightened her clothing and shifted the baby to her shoulder as another knock sounded.
A jangle of keys followed by the turning of tumblers in the lock of her wooden door had her sitting up straighter. She relaxed fractionally as a young woman slipped into the room, tray in hand. Her dark curls were pulled back from her sweet face with its usual pink ribbon, the color fading after so many washings.
Her smile was gentle as she made her way over to Mako with the soft grace any dancer would envy. Her plain, woolen dress skimmed the floor, showing the barest hint of ankle when she leaned over to pick up a stray bit of clothing off the ground, balancing the tray in her other hand. "How are you feeling today, Ms. Mako?"
Mako smiled at the familiarity. She had long ago insisted that the young woman stop calling her "Ms. Shiba," the memories it brought with the name too painful to bare at the time.
"Exhausted," Mako admitted, her stomach clenching in hunger as she caught a whiff of the food the gentle woman held in her hands.
"Yes, it was a terrible storm last night, wasn't it?" The young woman continued conversationally. "It woke me as well."
Mako studied the woman closer, noting the faint traces of dark circles under her eyes. She felt sympathy stir. "Ahim?"
"Yes, Ms. Mako?" The young woman turned from the tray she was arranging on the plain wooden table, the only other furniture in the room aside from a worn wooden chair placed at its side. Early morning light reflected off the silver band encircling her neck.
Mako cringed inwardly at the sight, her mouth closing into a thin line as the door swung open and a stern-faced guard glowered from the doorway.
"Hurry it up," he barked.
Ahim straightened, her shoulders rolling back into her usual perfect posture as she regarded Mako with schooled features. "Will you be joining us today?"
Mako felt the tiny shift of weight in her arms, and held the tiny bundle closer. "No," she whispered, her eyes downcast.
Something like disappointment and sympathy shone through the other woman's eyes. She glanced at the guard in the doorway. "I would like another moment with her, if you would please."
The guard scowled but snapped the door closed with a "make it quick."
When she was sure the door was shut fast Ahim moved to kneel in front of Mako, taking one of her hands in hers.
"Please," she urged. "Join us. You cannot stay locked in this room forever. If you serve them you will –"
"I refuse to be in service to those demons you call monarchs," Mako hissed with such vehemence that the child in her arms stirred at her tone.
Ahim bit her lip, her gaze darting to the door with an anxious glance before she turned back to Mako, her voice so quiet Mako had to strain to listen. "I know some people," she began. "People who can help, but you must trust me in this, Ms. Mako. You have to agree to serve the king and queen first."
"To be marked as a slave for the rest of my days in return? How can these people be of any help when you are as much a prisoner here as I am?"
Ahim flushed, her fingers unconsciously reaching up to touch the silver band around her neck. Mako was immediately filled with shame at her outburst.
"I'm sorry, Ahim," she whispered.
The young woman only smiled in return. "Do not worry, Ms. Mako. You have every right to question my motivations. In fact, I respect you all the more for it." She glanced over at the door, her grip tightening around Mako's hand. She stared into Mako's eyes in earnest. "If not for your own sake, than for the sake of your child, I implore you to rethink your decision, Ms. Mako. I do not wish to see any more harm come to you or your son should you refuse their Majesties request again." A scratching sound at the door had the young woman's anxiety shining through her usual smile. "I fear their patience is running thin."
Ahim rose to her feet as the door swung open for the second third time. "That's enough time," the guard snarled. "Out!"
The young woman gave Mako a quick curtsey before leaving through the door the guard held open for her, her shoulders back and her head held as high as a woman of royal blood. The wooden door slammed shut and locked behind her, sealing mother and child alone inside once more.
Released from the heavy glare of the guard, Ahim slipped into the warm, bustling kitchen, her eyes seeking out a blond head of hair amongst the controlled chaos. Spotting the man with his arms elbow-deep in flour she hurried over with an anxious frown.
The young man glanced over at her approach, his smile dimming as he caught sight of her face. "I take it she didn't listen to your advice again?"
Ahim shook her head, hands tightening against her stomach in worry. "I tried to warn her that their Majesties' patience has worn thin, but I fear she will not heed my counsel." She sighed quietly, her hands reaching out to help the young man at his work as he slid over to let her cut the dough he'd just finished rolling out. "I cannot blame her for her refusal after what she has gone through, however stubborn it may seem."
The young man glanced at her briefly as he began mixing ingredients to make a new batch of dough. "That's not all that has you worried though."
She started for a moment, surprised at his insight, before glancing around the kitchen. She shifted closer until their shoulders were almost touching, her voice a quiet murmur. "I told her about Marvelous."
"What!" The young man yelped, his eyes wide in disbelief.
Ahim stole a quick glance around, noting a few curious eyes that quickly returned back to their harried work. "Please try to be quieter; we do not want to draw more attention than we already do."
"Ahim," the young man scolded. "Why would you tell her about –" he glanced over his shoulder "– about him?"
"She needs our help," the brunette insisted, her curls swinging as she shifted the cutouts to a tray.
"If you hadn't noticed, you're not exactly in a position to be offering much assistance." He looked pointedly at the silver band around her neck.
Ignoring his look, Ahim's hands continued their work without faltering. "She has a family to return to."
The blond studied her for a long minute. "So do you."
"I do not have a husband and children," she countered softly.
The young man winced. "If what the men who brought her here said is true, neither does she."
"Hey! Doc!" A voice called from across the kitchen. "Can you give me a hand?"
"Just a second," the young man answered back, brushing a small cloud of flour off his hands before dodging his way through the crowded room to help one of the cooks.
Ahim pulled Doc's abandoned mixing bowl over as she handed her finished tray off to the stressed but grateful smile of one of the bakers. As she moved the wooden spoon through the thickening mixture she thought over Doc's words. She glanced at the ceiling as if she could see through the stone flooring to the tiny room of the young mother and her child.
"Only half true, as always," she whispered to the dough. "If one still lives, why not the other?"