Author's Notes: I LIVE! And with an extra long chapter to boot. The majority of this chapter has been sitting on my computer for longer than I care to admit. Fortunately I got my act together and finished it. Hopefully you enjoy it and hopefully you won't have to wait nearly as long between chapters. Constructive Criticism is always welcomed!
Fiat Justitia Ruat Coelum
Chapter Nine: Struggling to Breathe
"Where is it?"
Mako stared past Kamilla as the woman's eyes narrowed in fury.
"Where have you hidden the little rat?" Kamilla demanded, her voice tight, cheeks flushed with rage. "I know you're hiding it somewhere. Where is it?"
"The rats creep in and out of your walls as ever, Your Majesty," the insult in the title clear. "I did not realize the extent of your pest problem myself until recently. They thrive in disorder and chaos."
"Not the stupid rats, you stupid girl," Kamilla screeched. "That thing you call a child. Where is it?"
Mako looked at her now with raised brows. "Was it not you who instructed me to keep my son out of sight?"
"Where is it!?"
Mako's lips turned up ever so slightly at the corners, inducing a new level of rage in the young queen. "Out of your reach, Your Majesty." Mako was rewarded for her cheek with a slap that raked nails across her face. But it was worth it, she thought as she watched Kamilla fly into a fury.
It was still worth it hours later when her knees, back and wrists ached, her hands raw and throbbing after an entire morning spent scouring the drafty front hallway in punishment. Mako sat back on her heels, rubbing her damp sleeve across her sweaty brow with a sniff before tossing her brush in the wooden bucket by her side. Her limbs were shaking from the exertion, her body shivering as much from the chill as the chore, but it had been well worth the price of keeping her son out of Kamilla's reach, including taunting her of the lost opportunity.
Mako braced her red and chapped hands on her knees, pushing herself to her feet with an effort, rolling her head about her neck in an attempt to loosen the knots that had gathered there as she stood. Grasping the bucket in hand Mako moved down the hall to the kitchen where she would deposit her cleaning supplies. Her stomach gnawed at her, angry that she'd been forced to skip lunch.
It was worth it, she repeated to herself, ears pricking at the dulcet sounds of Kamilla's shrieks beyond a doorway to her left. Unable to help herself Mako paused to listen, making sure she kept well out of the door's sightline.
"Missing?" Kamilla all but hissed. "How is that – that mongrel missing?"
"We were ambushed, Your Majesty," a reply came, the voice male and uncertain in the face of Kamilla's wrath.
"By who?"
"We d-don't know," a second voice replied, stuttering in its fear. "They came so fast – it was dark –"
"Enough." Kamilla's tone had settled into a stone cold fury, the sharp disapproval and disgust enough to make dread curl even in Mako's stomach. "You're useless." There was a snap of her fingers in the echoing silence. "Assign them to target practice." Her voice was as lethal as it was cold and Mako stepped carefully away from the door, stifling the sudden urge to sneeze left she be caught eavesdropping.
Distracted, she didn't realize she wasn't alone until it was too late. Just as Mako had ascertained that she'd backed away far enough from the door, she'd turned and crashed right into the body that had been standing there, waiting for her. Cold hands reached out to steady her as she stumbled.
"I'm so sorry," she gasped. "I didn't see –" The words froze on her lips as she caught sight of the person she'd trodden on.
"Quite alright, my beauty," icy blue eyes shone with a cold, hard gleam as they beheld Mako's whitening parlor. "It's the rare man who turns away the chance to hold one so lovely as you in his arms." Mako felt the blood freezing in her veins as he his eyes raked over her form, rags and all. She knew that look. Had seen it one too many times in the eyes of some of the palace guards in Aduro. "Where is that charming child of yours, my dear?"
"Safe," Mako managed to breathe out, the word squeezing from her lungs. "If you'll excuse me, Sire, I have chores to complete." She tried to tug herself free from his grip but his fingers only flexed harder into her arms, biting into her skin. She knew better than to wince.
"Now, now," he admonished. "One doesn't turn their back on the king without his permission."
"I understand, but it was your wife herself who assigned me to –"
"Am I not the queen's husband? The king of this land?"
"Yes, Sire."
"Then why should her words or desires trump mine?" He shook her slightly in answer, his teeth bared. "They don't, that's how. I am the lord of this land and castle. It is my words and desires that reign supreme. And do you know what it is I desire?" Mako shook her head, trying in vain to loosen his grip on her. Fingers bit into her skin hard enough to bruise as he drew her closer, his voice dropping to whisper in her ear. "Heirs," he told her. "How is a king to rule without a son to leave it to when he is done?"
"Your wife –"
"Has tried for over half a decade without success," Almanzor snapped, his anger as quick as his temper. A grin blossomed across his face as he studied her. "But you, little desert flower, you seem to be well fertile, don't you? You have birthed plenty of children for that backwards little spit of land they call a kingdom, haven't you?"
"I am not a ruler," Mako pressed. "My children are not heirs –"
"Oh but they are," he cut across her negations. "So long as your princess remains unwed and without children of her own."
Mako blinked at the words. A part of her had realized this, of course, but Kaoru was young and hale with plenty of vying suitors – she could even take on concubines if she wished! Mako hadn't spent more than a passing thought to it when her children were born. She and Takeru had had children from a desire to have a family, not to continue a bloodline or rule. A blossom of anger budded in her chest and Mako glared at the man before her. "Kaoru will have a long and lasting rule, a mantel that her children will one day take over, and neither you nor any other power will take that away from her."
"Not even for the life of her beautiful sister-in-law?" A long cold finger traced down the side of Mako's face setting the lines Kamilla had raked into her face to flame, but Mako didn't flinch as she stared the man down. "What if her dear sister were to have a child from another line? Say, mine? Would she not then have to include such a babe in the line of her possible heirs should something tragically befall her and hers?"
Mako snapped her head away from his icy touch, the pale blue eyes sparking at her fire like ice moving beneath frozen waters. She thought of Takeru and her daughter, the sharp pain of their loss was like a knife in her heart and lungs. "Have you not hurt my family enough?" Her voice was a whisper as she worked to breathe around the stabbing pain.
"Oh, not nearly enough," Almanzor answered in a low, soothing voice. He caught her chin in a bruising grip. "I never spared a thought for my family when I slit their throats to claim my throne. Why should I give a thought to yours if another seat is within my grasp?" At Mako's sharp inhale of breath he dove in and pressed his thin, hard lips to hers. Mako kicked out her leg on instinct, hearing a satisfying crack as it connected with his kneecap.
With a hiss of rage and pain Almanzor cuffed Mako hard enough against the wall that she saw stars. "Clever little bitch," he snarled, his grin feral. "But it won't stop me from eventually getting what I want."
"It will never be yours," Mako bit back, bracing herself for his retort when the door up the hall opened and Kamilla appeared with a small frown. She looked from Mako, huddled on the floor, to her husband's clear, calm features.
"What is going on out here?"
"The little sneak was skulking outside your doors, eavesdropping upon your conversations, pet," he answered smoothly, moving to her side.
Kamilla glared at Mako with rekindled fury. "Out to the stables with you," she commanded with all the arrogance of her crown. "You will clean the stables until they are spotless – through the night if need be, and without supper. That should teach you to listen in on your betters." She laced her hand through the crook of her husband's offered arm and the two removed themselves down the hallway without a glance back, Mako noting with a triumphant, satisfied smile that Almanzor had the slightest of limps as he did.
Worth it.
"Ms. Mako," Ahim sighed as she stamped her feet in the frigid late afternoon air. "Why do you provoke them so? It only hurts you in the end."
"Better me than some other hapless soul," Mako replied, wincing as the wooden instrument she held rubbed against the blisters on her chapped and raw hands.
"A body can only take so much, and yours has had to endure plenty already." She gave Mako a pointed look as Mako sniffled in the wintry air.
"Especially without meals," Doc pointed out as they the duo trailed Mako back to the stables. "You can't keep going without those."
"I know Mr. Genta will slip you something when you turn in for the night – any of us would – but you need to sit down for proper meals," Ahim agreed, tucking away a smile at Doc's put out expression. He was still a bit sore that no one had thought to inform him about Genta's arrival prior to it complaining that he was always the last to know important information. "Your husband will worry, not to mention your caretaker."
Mako wasn't sure whether she wanted to grimace or laugh at the thought of Ryunosuke's face when they told him, but found she was too exhausted to work up to either one. She paused at the corner of the stable, something unusual catching her eye near the archery range. With a jolt of shock Mako realized that she recognized the bodies riddled with arrows lined up along the targets, their clothes, skins and the ground around them caked in long, trailing patches of scarlet that were slowly drying to darker shades of nightmares.
"It's best not to linger, Ms. Mako," Ahim murmured, averting her eyes from the sight.
"Dead men tell no tales," Doc muttered, cringing away from the sight.
"Except what they whisper in ears at night," a voice answered from behind and the trio whirled around at the sound, Doc fumbling for balance and losing it to fall flat on his bum in the mud.
"Joe," Ahim admonished, her hand over a heart pounding as much from the fright as the sight of seeing him and she flushed, her cheeks darkening from warmth now instead of the frigid air. "What are you doing here?" She glanced around, already knowing he wouldn't have appeared had there been other eyes to see but doing so out of habit anyways, the last light of day tinging the clouds a rosy hue despite the lack of sunlight that reached the ground.
"Marvelous sent me to check in," he told her quietly, pulling his gaze from hers with more than a little reluctance, his lips thinning as he caught sight of the marks on Mako's face as she struggled to help Doc to his feet.
"I'm fine, thanks for asking," Doc huffed as he stood, brushing at his pants. When they came away streaked with mud he sighed loudly. "I'm going to go change," he muttered before stalking off toward the kitchen doors. "They'll be looking for me soon enough anyways." He spared a glance back over his shoulder at Ahim. "Don't take too long or they'll come looking for you."
"Thank you," Ahim beamed and Doc turned away with a slight flush, dodging puddles as best he could on his way back inside the castle.
"What happened?" Joe asked, looking to Mako as she turned to continue her way inside the stables.
"I sassed my rulers with great cheek and pleasure," Mako told him, covering a cough with her hand before waving away Ahim's concerned frown and slipping inside the old barn.
"What happened?" Joe repeated the question to Ahim and with a gentle smile she grasped him by the elbow and led him into a more secluded corner to talk, still wary of being seen or overheard.
Mako prolonged her chore of shoveling horse excrement into a bucket as long as she could to allow the couple to talk before she had to go dump it. Stealing outside the worn wooden doors Mako tried not to watch as the tall, dark haired young man tucked a stray lock of Ahim's hair behind her ear, lingering to caress her cheek, Ahim tilting her head into the touch with a tender smile as she gazed up at him with stars in her eyes. Expertly Joe shifted to block Ahim from sight and Mako looked away at the gentle kiss. She shivered at the frigid gust that swept through the courtyard, her gaze drawn to the darkening clouds above just as a light snow began to fall. She thought of the chore she had been set with discouragement – it would take twice as long if she was fighting through the snow and wind, let alone the dark. Mako sneezed then and the young couple jumped apart, startled by the noise.
With a rueful smile, Mako set down her heaping, smelly bucket, rotating her shoulders as Ahim hurried away towards the castle, her cheeks flushed but her grin wide, Joe watching her departing figure until she had shut herself inside the castle's back door.
"Sorry," Mako called with a wave and swore she saw not only a flush but a hint of a smile upon the usually stoic man's face in return as he gave a small nod in return before slipping into the shadows he had emerged from. With a sigh she heaved her bucket in hand, covering a cough with her free one before plodding on, snowflakes gathering in her hair and eyelashes, her stomach growling angrily at her.
It was going to be a long night.
Mako shuffled her feet through the snow drifts, the frozen water leaking into her boots, turning her toes into blocks of ice as she tried in vain to pull her cloak tighter around her shoulders. In contrast to the harsh bite of the wind, sweat began rolling down her temples as she continued to make the trek from inside the stables out into the blustery night.
She paused for a moment to catch her breath, wiping her snow dusted sleeve across her face as she looked up at the heavy, dark clouds. The thick flakes tangled in her lashes and Mako's vision blurred. She brushed at them furiously, shaking her head to bring everything back into focus. Unable to allow any more time to catch her breath she shoved her way back into the stables, wincing at the stabbing pain in her chest as she breathed in the frozen air.
Mako grasped the shovel in her hands and pushed at the muck with all the determination she could summon, unable to dispel the cold making her body shake despite being back inside the warmer air. It felt as if the very fingers of winter had slipped through the seams in her clothes and wrapped themselves like a vice around her body, freezing her to her very lungs.
A sharp pain in her side made her gasp before she doubled over in a fit of coughing, hazing her eyes with tears.
"Enough," she panted, propping herself up with the shovel's handle. She pulled her spine straight, brushing back her wet bangs off her damp face and flushed cheeks. With a sniff and another fit of coughing Mako continued filling her bucket and depositing it outside until at last, her chest heaving and her pulse racing rapidly from the exertion she was able to throw her equipment back into its corner.
Exhausted, her last spurt of energy leaving her shaky and chilled down to her marrow, Mako shuffled her feet across the stable floor. Bracing herself with a grimace and another round of coughing, she shoved the door open weakly and stepped into the biting air for the last time.
Head bowed against the snow that blurred her vision, Mako stumbled toward the promise of warmth from behind the orange glow of the kitchen windows, but to her confusion and frustration every footstep seemed to bring her no closer to the protection of the castle walls than the one before. She hissed at the sudden lancing pain in her side that brought to her knees, the action dissolving into a fit of coughing that she couldn't seem to recover from. Panic made her heart race and her breathing rapid as she desperately tried to fill her lungs with air, memories of another lifetime filling her vision as she felt the ghost of a noose around her neck, choking her.
Her head spinning, Mako's hand struggled to her neck to discover with horror that the snare around her neck wasn't merely a memory. As her fingers slipped desperately over the smooth metal encircled there Mako's vision began spotting until all she could see was the evil grin of her assassin as the world went dark.
She never felt herself hit the ground.
Genta looked out the snow covered windows with a frown as he mindlessly scrubbed at the dish in his hand.
"Is everything alright, Mr. Genta?"
Genta looked sideways at the young woman at his side as she finished drying her dish and set it on the stack of clean ones for Doc to take away.
"Mako's not back yet," he murmured under his breath.
Ahim's delicate brows furrowed. "Nor did she make it to supper." She met Genta's worried eye as they both looked out at the dark gray world beyond the glass.
"Maybe she's changing into a drier set of clothes?" Doc suggested as he passed, overhearing the last part of the conversation.
"Would she not have returned by now?" Ahim asked, skeptical.
Doc shrugged his shoulders as he balanced the heavy weight of dinnerware in his arms. "She's trying to fight off the beginnings of a cold," he reminded them. "Maybe she decided to go straight to sleep?"
"That's a lot of 'maybes,'" Genta muttered, his instincts ringing alarmingly. "And she would have at least checked in to let us know so we wouldn't worry."
"If her cold got worse…"
Face stony, Genta unlaced his apron in one practiced motion and threw it on the counter as he signaled to one of the girls. "I need to check on something," he explained in a tone that clearly stated he wasn't to be asked any questions. "Could you take over?"
"Of course," the girl nodded.
"I apologize, but I too must see to something," Ahim added. "If you could ask someone to help you, I shall take over their turn next time."
The girl gave Ahim a faint smile, confusion in her eyes but she kept her curiosity to herself. "I'll ask Annabeth," she answered. "I'm sure she wouldn't mind."
"Thank you," Ahim smiled warmly. "I truly appreciate it."
"Of course," the girl's green eyes crinkled as she returned the warm smile with one of her own before calling her friend over.
"I'll check the stables," Genta said as he made his way swiftly towards the outer door.
Ahim nodded as she made her way toward the servant's stair. "I shall check the room."
"Wait!" Doc called, trying to catch up to the pair but tripped over a sack of flour on the floor and went tumbling to the ground. With a curse he pushed himself to his feet and raced after Genta, catching up to the other man as he was throwing on his coat left on a stand near the door.
"What should I do?"
"Stay here," Genta replied, wrapping his scarf around his neck and face with quick, precise motions. "If you hear anything or she shows up here before either of us return –"
"I'll come find you."
Genta gave the blond a curt nod, his eyes creased with worry before he braced himself and plunged out into the blustery night, snapping the door shut firmly behind him.
With a chill that had nothing to do with the cold, Genta's eyes raked across the softened white landscape. Holding an arm up in front of his face to ward off the flakes that threatened to coat his lashes, he squinted hard into the darkness, feeling his way through the drifts.
"Mako?" He called, the swift breeze catching his voice and throwing it back at him. "Are you out here?"
He stumbled across objects unseen below the snow as he searched. "Hey, Mako, come on," he tried again. "Where are ya? It's too late for hide and seek, you know."
He clung to the desperate hope that Ahim was now finding Mako fast asleep in her bed back inside as he made his way in the general direction of the stables. "Take-chan'll kill us both if you're still out here," he murmured, cautious despite knowing that no one in their right minds would be outside in this weather.
Spotting the shape of the stables through the flying white flakes, Genta turned toward them, nearly tripping over something half-buried in the snow. With a trill of trepidation, Genta dropped to his knees to inspect the thing closer. Part of him wished desperately that he his eyes were playing tricks on him, but a larger, more insistent part thrummed with a growing dread. Fingers swept aside the growing pile of snow from the lump in the snow and he felt his heart stop when he caught sight of a familiar face.
"Mako," he breathed, color draining from his face as he took in her half-frozen form. "Mako!" He lifted her body into a half-sitting position as he shielded her from the falling snow. "Mako!" He brushed flakes from her face, unsure in that gray, dark world if he was talking to corpse or a body the color of one.
"Hey, Mako, come on." He pulled off a glove with his teeth and felt for a pulse at her neck. Sagging with relief he caught the faint but rapid pulse and gathered her close. "Thank the heavens," he whispered before scooping her up into his arms. He stumbled for a moment, trying to catch his balance, frowning as he realized his load was lighter than it should have been for deadweight. "Hang in there, Mako," he told her. "I've got ya."
As quick as he dared, Genta moved across the grounds, bursting in through the door with a force that startled the young maid walking by, her hand flying to her heart.
"What in the world –!"
"I need you to get Doc," Genta cut in. "Tell him to get any help he can find – quickly."
"O-okay," she blinked, uncomprehending until she caught sight of what he was carrying in his arms.
"Is that a person?" A startled voice asked in disbelief as he shifted Mako in his arms.
Ignoring the astonished glances thrown his way, Genta moved towards the nearest servants' staircase and made his way through the castle, nearly slipping in the hallway as his sodden boots lost their tread.
"My, my, where are we off to in such a rush and with such a heavy burden?"
Genta looked up to see the queen watching him with an excited gleam in her eyes as she eyed the figure in his arms.
"Ah," she murmured, her lips curling in amusement. "Has the little upstart gone and done herself in at last?"
Genta shifted the body in his arms, his heart catching at the quietest of noises that escaped.
"I suppose the wretch is still desperately clinging to life, is she?" Kamilla shook her head in exaggerated disappointment, studying Mako with barely concealed anticipation. "But perhaps not for long. She doesn't look like she'll survive long in that state." Her sudden smile was sharp, her eager eyes meeting Genta's furious ones. "If we're lucky, perhaps it won't even be the night."
With a sharp laugh, Kamilla turned on her heel and continued her saunter up the hallway, hips swinging in merriment as her heels clipped along the stone.
Genta stood rooted to the spot for a moment, working to get his fury under control, his blood boiling. What he wouldn't give for an arrow and crossbow right then. Clenching his teeth together, Genta pushed past his anger and began moving again, knowing full well that the charge in his arms was more important than the violence he wished to inflict on the would-be queen, however satisfying it would be.
"Mr. Genta!" A soft voice gasped as he drew closer to Mako's rooms. "What happened? Where did you find her?" Ahim stood back, holding the door open wide, her eyes large and rimmed with worry. "Please lay her on my bed."
"She was out in the snow," Genta told her as he set Mako's body down. "She's not waking up."
Ahim swallowed hard at the anxiety in Genta's tone, his growing fear palpable. "We have to get her out of her clothes," she began, waving her hand towards their shared cupboard. "Please bring me some new clothing; it does not matter which ones so long as they will keep her warm." Her nimble fingers made quick work of wriggling Mako out of her frozen garments. She tossed each piece to the ground into a sopping pile as she managed to get them off, starting when a pair of hands handed her a handful of towels. When she looked at Genta questioningly, he answered with a simple, "we have to dry her off before we put new clothes on."
With a tight smile, Ahim accepted the bundle of material gratefully and began patting Mako's skin off as gently as she could as she peeled off the layers of clothes. Genta flushed when Mako was stripped down to her undergarments but soldiered on in trying to dry off Mako's skin.
"If you would move Ms. Mako's wet clothes from the ground and place them into a basket out in the hall, I shall take care of the rest," Ahim told him gently. "When I have her dressed again we shall move her to her own bed." Genta nodded and did as he was bid, lifting Mako into his arms and shifting her across the room when Ahim called him back over.
It was as they were tucking in the covers around Mako's body that a quick knock sounded at the door. Genta was already on his feet and halfway across the room before the voice on the other side could even speak.
"It's just me!" Doc called. "Let me in."
With faint relief etched across his brows, Genta held the door wide for the other man, his arms laden with everything from extra linens to herbs to a steaming mug of broth. "How is she?" he asked as Genta helped relieve part of the burden.
"Her lips are blue and she is still unconscious, but she is now dry and warming," Ahim reported from the bedside. She looked up at Doc as he moved anxiously to her side. "What should we do next?"
"I'm not that kind of Doctor," he sputtered, waving his hands in front of him rapidly as if to physically ward off her inquiry.
Ahim bit her lip, glancing down at her friend's pale face. "Please send for Joe."
Doc threw her a questioning look. "Does he know what to do for this?" He waved in Mako's direction.
"I do not know, but a message must be sent to Marvelous," she lowered her voice, "and the others. They must know what has transpired this evening."
"Alright," Doc agreed, a little unsure despite Ahim's insistence. "I'll go see if I can find him."
"Please hurry," Ahim pressed. "I fear the situation may become worse before it becomes better." Doc nodded, fumbling with the latch on the door for a moment before hurtling himself out into the hallway.
"You think it's that bad?" Genta asked in the silence left behind.
Ahim looked at the tall, dark-haired man beside her, her expression unreadable. "You do not?"
Genta looked at Mako's cold, prone form and grimaced.
Marvelous glanced up at the noise near the door, his brows furrowing for a moment as he wondered who would have the audacity to interrupt this meeting. Spotting the pale, pinched features of his second-in-command Marvelous felt his gut clench in trepidation though none of it showed on his face. Catching Marvelous' distraction, Luka too looked up. Her expression didn't change in front of their guests but her fingers tightened ever so slightly where they rested against her crossed arms.
"Excuse me, gentlemen," Marvelous grinned and stood as Joe signaled him over. "Any further questions you may have can be directed to Luka. She can answer any further inquiries about the plan without my assistance."
With a calm that belied the nagging twinge of anxiety inside his chest, Marvelous strode casually but purposefully in Joe's direction, nodding towards a hidden door on his right. The moment the door shut snuggly behind the pair of them Marvelous turned to his stalwart companion with a tight frown. "What's happened?"
"Ahim –"
Alarm strummed through him and he took a step closer to Joe. "What's happened to Ahim? Is she alright?"
"She's fine," Joe assured his captain in a patient but firm tone. "It's the general's wife – Shiba Mako. Apparently she was found half-frozen in the snow behind the stables tonight." He paused, his lips pressing together, a sure sign of his concern that alarmed Marvelous more than if Doc had come running in shouting the news. "It doesn't look good."
Marvelous' frown deepened, genuine concern rising inside him. He rather liked the Shiba woman; she was tough and nearly as stubborn as he.
"Apprise the Shiba group of the situation," he informed his companion. "And if you can arrange it, allow the loud one – the princess' caretaker – in to see her. If he's been looking after her for this long, then he would surely know better than any doctor we could find at this time of night as to what's best for her."
"And the others?"
Marvelous shook his head. "The less we involve the safer we'll all be."
"The Shiba general won't like that."
"No," Marvelous agreed with a slight frown, "he won't. But I won't try smuggling him in unless it's a last resort. The king would love nothing more than to catch Shiba inside his castle like a rat in a trap." He looked at his lieutenant. "I can guarantee neither of them will survive then." Joe nodded grimly before turning on his heel and striding out the door to follow his captain's orders.
Marvelous raked a hand through his dark hair and expelled a deep burst of air from his lungs as the door closed behind Joe with a soft click. He didn't envy his lieutenant's task.
"Mama! Mama!" A little voice rang out in between childish giggles as she ran from her mother's reaching hands.
"I'm going to get you!" Mako called back, teasing, as she chased her daughter around the private garden enclosed within their quarters. Sunlight glinted off of dark hair and mischievous eyes as Mako lunged forward and scooped her child up into her arms, her daughter's shriek of laughter bouncing off the walls. Mako twirled them around in a tight circle before setting her little girl back on the ground whereupon Ayako immediately took off running across the grass, giggling like mad.
Mako took a moment to catch her breath even as she kept a watchful eye over her rambunctious toddler.
"Are we getting old?" A voice teased from the wooden porch surrounding the garden and Mako looked over with a grin.
"Says the one observing from her seat in the shade."
Kaoru scoffed at the challenge, sliding to the ground with a natural ease to join Mako in the sunshine. "You know, I never once lost to Takeru in this game."
Mako's grin only grew. "Then I'm sure you will have no trouble against a two-year-old." She waved her arm in the direction of her daughter.
Kaoru patted Mako on the shoulder. "Leave it to me."
Mako watched with an ever blooming joy as her daughter dodged to the side, just managing to escape her aunt's grasp as a new game of chase began. She laughed when Kaoru nearly stumbled into a bush when Ayako ducked out of reach once again.
"Having trouble, Kaoru?" A new, highly amused voice called from the porch. Mako turned to see Takeru, followed closely by Kotoha and Chiaki settle on the porch.
"Your daughter is as slippery as a goldfish," Kaoru growled, the effect of the words lost by the large grin on her face.
"I'll help," Kotoha called as she jumped off the porch and entered the game. "You come from the left, I'll take the right." Mako doubled over in laughter when Kotoha tripped on the hem of her clothing and face planted into the grass, Ayako scooting right past her with Kaoru hot on her heels. Mako used one hand to wipe the tears of mirth from her eyes as the other pressed against her chest, trying to catch her breath.
She blinked in confusion as something colorful fell across her vision for a moment before she felt the noose tightening around her neck, choking off her air. Her hands automatically jumped to her neck, fingers sliding along the silken cord as she tried to pry it off. She looked back at the porch only to feel her gut clench in terror.
Her family was laughing, too distracted by the game at hand to notice the assassin, his blade held high behind them until, with a great sweep of his arm, he slashed the sword deep through Takeru's back, the point of it sticking out of his chest like a grotesque silver stamen, scarlet petals blossoming from its center. Mako's vision filled with crimson, the world around her stained in blood until all she could see was an ocean of red, the bitter tang of iron pungent on her tongue. She struggled to breathe, drowning, choking on the gore until the darkness swallowed her whole.
From somewhere in the endless night she heard snatches of voices she almost recognized, some as impossible as the next – Kotoha's, Kaoru's, Ryunosuke's, even her mother's voice all seemed to be calling out to her, urging her on. But to where or why, she didn't know. Everything ached, her body in flames one minute and breathless with chills the next.
Had she died? Was this what had awaited her in the afterlife? An endless cycle of pain and torture in payment for what she had done – what she had failed to do – in life?
"Hime…drink..."
"Ryunosuke?" Mako mumbled in confusion, her head heavy and swirling endlessly from the rapid decent of dreams to nightmares, memories mixing together until she couldn't tell truth from falsehood. She paid dearly for her question, dissolving into a fit of coughing that shot fire through her lungs and throat.
"Please…will help." Another voice pleaded, the distorted sound of it bringing images of Kotoha to her mind. But Kotoha wasn't here. No one was here. There was nothing but blood and pain to accompany her now.
Something unyielding pressed against her lips, a warm liquid pushing itself into her mouth and suddenly she was back in her rooms at the palace. It was the third time someone had tried to poison her, and Ryunosuke was urging her to drink something he had made. Kotoha was by his side, holding Mako's hand tightly in her own, tears streaming down her face as she pleaded with Mako not to leave her.
"It'll help, Hime. I promise," Ryunosuke had told her, though he had turned an ashen pallor and his eyes were desperate.
Mako struggled to obey at their insistence even as her throat closed tighter and tighter, but when she looked back at the two they had vanished. In their place was Kamilla, her eyes bright with twisted vengeance as she tilted the contents of the cup further into Mako's mouth. With a frantic burst of energy born from instinctual survival she managed to spit out the offending liquid.
"No," she promised, clamping her mouth shut, determined to fight off every last bit of Kamilla's attempts to get her to drink again. With a cry of frustration, Kamilla turned to a man standing in the corner Mako hadn't noticed before. Her heart tripping as she recognized the figure.
"Takeru," she breathed in bewilderment, her heart racing in her chest.
Kamilla marched over to Takeru and stood toe-to-toe with him, her posture bristling with desperation. "It's not working," she hissed.
"No," he cut in curtly as she opened her mouth to continue. "I told you, only as a last resort."
Kamila waved furiously in Mako's direction. "How much worse does it have to be before you agree? When she's dead?!" Her voice rose several octaves at the end. Takeru frowned, his arms crossed tightly across his chest as he looked at the woman in front of him. He glanced over at Mako, surprise flitting across his eyes as he realized she was looking back at him.
"Takeru?" She questioned, her voice pathetically small and weak, chest heaving for air in quick, rapid breaths. Confusion melted into genuine concern as he realized she was calling out to him, but he kept his distance.
Finally, reluctantly, he nodded at Kamilla.
With a grim, triumphant look in her eyes, she side-stepped Takeru and rushed out the door, Chiaki fast on her heels. With a heavy sigh Takeru turned towards the door himself.
"Don't!" Mako gasped, making him glance back over his shoulder at her. His eyes were wary, shoulders tight with unease. "Don't…leave." She managed between several breaths. "Please…don't go."
"Mako?" Genta's voice sounded from somewhere on her other side, but she couldn't summon the energy to turn and find him. "Take-chan is –"
"Please," she pleaded, ignoring Genta's attempts at getting her attention. She watched as Takeru's mouth hardened into a grim line, turning his back on her with great effort before striding out the door without another word.
With the closing of the door, Mako's world dissolved and she sank gratefully back into the darkness, anything to escape the pain and torment of his departure from her world.
A heavy sigh sounded from somewhere next to her and Mako cracked her eyes open only to wince from the bright light of the lanterns. Her sudden movement alerted her companion.
"Mako?"
"Hmm?" She responded, coughing from the soreness in her throat. Immediately his hand was rubbing her back, soothing away the pain until she managed to get ahold of her gasping breath.
"I shouldn't have let you stay out in the snow so long; you're not used to this climate yet," he chastised himself as she looked over her shoulder to meet his gaze with a watery smile.
"It was too fascinating to go back inside."
He shook his head at her, but he couldn't entirely hide the smile tucked into the corner of his lips. "Next time we're going to make sure you're bundled up until you can barely walk, and even then it will only be for short periods," he teased her.
Mako scrunched her nose at him, covering her mouth with the corner of her blanket to hide her cough. "How upset is Ryunosuke?"
"Fairly," he answered and she grimaced. He let out a quiet chuckle at the look of apprehension that filtered into her eyes. "We'll probably never hear the end of it," he agreed with her unspoken thoughts. "I thought he was going to have my head when we told him you'd taken ill. If it hadn't been for Genta putting him in a headlock, you might be looking for a new husband right now."
Mako's laugh dissolved into another fit of coughing. She felt Takeru's strong arms lift her until she was reclining against his chest, the position making it easier to breathe, even if it did make her pulse race more furiously. "Thank you," she murmured with a blush – would she ever stop flushing at such intimate contact? – before tentatively lacing the fingers of her right hand through his. "But I would rather keep the one I have."
"That's a relief," he breathed across her temple before planting a chaste kiss there.
Distracted by the fluttering of her heart, it took a moment to realize he was holding a short, glazed cup in front of her nose. "What's that?"
"Ryunosuke made it; it will help."
Her blush deepened as his hands fit around her shaky ones, helping her to bring it to her lips. She sputtered at the bitter taste, heart hammering in her chest as she felt the laughter in Takeru's chest against her back. "Can't he make something easier to swallow?"
"They do it on purpose," he told her in a conspiratorial whisper. "It's to remind us of the consequences of foolhardy actions."
"Because being sick isn't enough of a reminder," Mako muttered mutinously.
"Here," Takeru handed her a warm, thick mug of something that steamed once she had choked down Ryunosuke's tonic. "Something to wash it down with."
Mako took a tentative sip and sighed in appreciation as the sweet taste of honey and herbal tea mixed on her tongue.
"Better?"
"Mm." She murmured around the rim of her cup, unable to stop her smile as his chest shook in silent laughter. After a few more sips Mako felt her eyelids grow heavy, her body dragging itself down with them. Dimly she felt Takeru shift behind her until she was lying back under her covers once more. As he leaned over to gently press a kiss against her forehead, Mako felt a surge of panic she couldn't explain.
"Don't go," she whispered, her voice slurring in odd places.
"I'm right here," he told her and she felt his weight settle next to her before he tucked her into the warmth of his arms.
"…love you…" she murmured as she soaked in his presence, the panic that had been threatening to drown her abating. Fingers brushed away her sweaty bangs as she began to drift. She sighed his name once more before sleep claimed her.
When Mako next opened her eyes, she felt as exhausted as if she had never slept at all. It took her a moment to recognize her surroundings, her eyes taking time to focus on the all too familiar cold, stone walls and sparse furnishings. Faint candlelight flickered, casting ever-shifting shadows across everything and confusing her senses as she tried to figure out what time it was.
Had she awoken in the middle of the night from a nightmare? Or was she still in one?
She sighed quietly, wincing at the effect it had on her lungs. The tiny expulsion of air making her chest ache.
Mako cast back over her hazy and tangled memories, unsure which ones were dreams and which were reality. Her brow furrowed. She remembered cleaning out the stables in the snow, pushing herself with a reckless determination to finish and return to the illusionary warmth of the castle.
Was that it then? Had she returned and fallen right to sleep? But then why did she feel so hollow inside? Had she skipped her meal as well? She blinked in confusion. If she had missed a meal, Genta would have come searching for her. If he'd felt that it was too great a risk to do it himself he would've sent Ahim, not that the young woman wouldn't have done the same of her own accord.
Maybe they had already looked in on her and Ahim was asleep? But then why leave the candle burning?
Mako tried to roll onto her side to view the other side of the room only to receive a great shock as her body refused to move. When had she become so weak? Summoning up her sparse supply of energy she settled for shifting her head across the pillow instead.
Her heart jumped in her throat as she realized that she definitely wasn't alone in the room. The shadowed outline of a person – a man – sat in a chair, his back to the lone candlelight near her bed. She worked to focus her gaze on him, trying to discern who it was. His hair was too dark to be Doc, and too short to be Joe. Perhaps it was Genta? As her eyes skimmed over familiar features, Mako felt her heart skip a beat in her chest.
"Takeru?"
The name slid off her tongue before she could catch it. Eyes blurring with tears, she turned to press her face into her pillow with the smallest of groans.
"Mako?" She heard rustling as the man awoke at the sound. "Mako? What's the matter? Are you in pain?"
Mako wished she could summon enough energy to press her hands against her ears – anything to block out the familiar cadence. Instead she pressed further into the pillow, biting her bottom lip against a grimace of pain that was as much a protest from her aching body as it was her heart.
"Go away," she whispered to the phantom.
"Mako?"
"Please," she begged the apparition. "Go away. Stop torturing me."
"Mako, I –"
"You're not really here," she whispered to the memory as much as herself. Were her dreams not painful enough? Now they had to torment her when she woke?
Silence echoed in the room and Mako began to hope that the hallucination had vanished when warm, calloused fingers gently brushed away the damp strands of hair that had fallen across her face. Mako's eyes sprang open at once, terrified that she was dreaming even now. She felt her bed dip under added weight, and hands shifting her head until she met familiar dark eyes that were now pinched at the corners with worry.
Her gaze roved his face, taking note of every feature, every flaw, every piece of him that made her memories pale in comparison. He looked older, carrying a weight of uncertainty and pain that he hadn't before, even during his stay in Aduro.
Terrified that it was still an incredibly lucid dream, Mako slowly, painstakingly moved an arm out from beneath her covers to hover, shaking, in the cool air between them. She reached for his face, trembling both with the effort and the repercussions if this turned out to be nothing more but the desperate illusion of her mind. She paused, a breath away from touching him, fingers curling back for a moment in hesitation before she let them settle.
Tears sprang to her eyes anew as she felt solid warmth beneath her fingertips. He shuddered at her touch, one hand rising to cover hers, holding it to his cheek as his eyes fluttered shut.
"Takeru?" She breathed.
He looked at her, eyes swimming with emotion before he bent forward and pressed his lips against hers.
Mako's tears fell fast and hard as overwhelming relief swept through her, her arm pushing out of his grip to wrap around his neck, holding him as close as her exhausted muscles would allow. At the same instant his arms slid around her, drawing her up and against him, supporting her body with his own. Mako broke off the kiss to bury her face into his shoulder, releasing all her pent-up emotions at once, and Takeru gathered her close, placing a chaste kiss at her temple, letting her cry herself out as he rocked her, murmuring soothingly into her ear.
Mako didn't know how long they held each other in the quiet of the lone candlelight, but eventually her tears subsided, leaving her completely drained and holding onto consciousness through sheer stubborn willpower. Head resting against his chest, Mako glanced down at the hand that lay entangled with hers as his other rubbed calming circles into her back. "How?" she asked, her voice raspy.
His fingers tightened around hers, and he hugged her close for a long moment. "I almost lost you." Mako squeezed her eyes shut, listening to his heartbeat quicken beneath her ear in remembrance.
"They finally brought Ryunosuke in, but you were delirious. You had no strength left but you still fought him off." She wondered at the faintest change of tone in his voice at the revelation before releasing his breath in a quiet sigh. "I was the last resort."
Mako wondered, vaguely, what would have become of her if Takeru hadn't been close at hand. She grimaced, imagining all too well. "I almost lost you, too," she ventured after a moment, the words hanging heavily in the air between them. He kissed her forehead. "They told me you were alive, but," she bit her lip before letting loose a shaky breath. "Until I saw you…"
"I know."
"I love you." Her fingers gripped the cuff of his sleeve with all of the strength she had which was shockingly lacking but she didn't let it distract her. "I didn't think…I'd have a chance to say it…I never said it enough…I love you, Takeru, so much. Losing you – it's like losing air…from my lungs." As if to enforce this point, her body labored to breathe, exhausted by both her words and actions.
Takeru gathered her close, cupping the back of her head with his hand to keep it upright and against his shoulder, her body too weak to do it itself. "I love you too," he murmured against her temple, his body trembling slightly. "Don't scare me like that again."
"You did…first," Mako mumbled, fighting a losing battle against the darkness that schemed to pull her under again. She was too exhausted to smile as Takeru's body shook from silent laughter.
"I'm sorry," he apologized.
"Me too," she sighed or at least thought she did.
"Rest," was the last thing she heard before the darkness consumed her once more.