A/N: As my lovers both love this fic, I have decided to write my ass off on this chapter. I am trying to add more writing back into my life as well as my obsession with Guild Wars 2 taking over a lot of it, but it can be difficult.
WARNING: This chapter contains prostitution, and humor. Oooh. Scary things. So scary.
With love,
Korrupted.
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN SAILOR MOON OR THE CHARACTERS.
No slave shall be allowed to work for pay, or to plant corn, peas or rice; or to keep hogs, cattle, or horses; or to own or operate a boat; to buy or sell; or to wear clothes finer than 'Negro cloth'.
- Addition to South Carolina slave codes in 1712
Minako woke from her peaceful sleep with her friend clinging to her firmly, the very soft snoring of Makoto reaching her ears as a smile lit her face. It felt natural for them to share a bed like this after their journey, and the fact that their friendship had bolstered in the process was also something that made her heart soar. She rolled to face Makoto, poking the woman's arm gently in an attempt to rouse her. "Hey, Mako. Wake up, sleepy face." She whispered in a voice groggy with slumber.
That was when she found a hand flopped onto her face, slapping at her cheeks, nose, and mouth in a mix of tiredness and playfulness. "Shhhhh... No one cares. Go back to sleep."
Minako began to flail at the hand, swatting it away as it pushed her face away. "Mako! I'm serious! We need to wake up."
"Mmm... Seriously adorable. Anyone tell you that you're about as terrifying as a pastry in the morning?"
"I will fight you right here and now!"
She found her head shoved into the pillow, effectively muffling her protests. "Shhhh. Hush before you start leaking strawberry filling."
Minako thrashed against the hold on her, trying to break away from her clearly more powerful charge and failing miserably; worst of all was that she knew Makoto wasn't even trying to hold her down. After ten minutes of yelling and swatting, the only progress that she had made was being cocooned in the blankets and flopped upon by the other woman, the sounds of clearly faked snoring loud in her bundled ear.
"MMMPPHHPUUMMMHTTUUUUHHHH!" She roared from her fluffy prison.
The only reply she received was a loud snore that was laced with a chuckle, feeling the older woman's body jostle from the contained laughter. How in the name of Heildar was Mako this damn strong?! At this point it no longer mattered, but the blankets were heating her up terribly.
As if sensing discomfort and possible heat-stroke, the encasing weight vanished, leaving Minako to flop around in her cocoon in an attempt at freedom, looking rather like a large, blonde, particularly disheveled butterfly trying to escape it's nest. Her arms being firmly swaddled against her chest, legs tangled up tightly in the sheets, Minako could only wriggle around uselessly, her face finally free from the blankets, her expression childishly pitiful. "Mako, heeeelp." She whined, her charge cackling in glee.
"Mina, ye look like th' world's ugliest worm."
Both women looked up to the beams above them to see Renny lounging rather lazily along one, tossing about a few throwing knives between her hands. "Eight bells wake up call. Tis on th'house. Did ye sleep well?"
"Renny, free meeeee..." Minako pleaded, flailing slightly.
The Irish girl laughed heartily, putting away the blades. "Nah. Tis too damn funny t'help ye!" She gleefully admitted.
Ignoring Minako's half frustrated cries, Makoto watched the girl carefully, warily even. "How did you get in here?"
Another giggle that rang with mischief. "I have ways. Now, up ye get. Max had Katie fix breakfast up early for ye, an' it would be fair rude t'be late."
The girl gracefully dropped from the beam and hit the floor lightly, a bit of shadow curling about her ankle for a moment before fading, Renny hurrying to the door and unlocking it to exit. Makoto stared after her in confusion, clearly unable to fathom how she got in without her noticing until a shrill whimpering whine forced her attention elsewhere.
"Mako... I have to pee..."
Makoto laughed as she walked over, starting to unravel the woman from the blankets. "You are one hell of useless pastry, you know that?"
After breakfast, Max and Ranait both decided to find a horse and cart to get them to the other side of the town. Minako declined, opting to walk with her guardian to a few of the shops to replenish supplies instead. As the blonde left with her charge, Max went in search of a driver, leaving the Irish girl to stand by herself next to a driver-less cart. Green hues looked around curiously for the driver for several seconds before she shrugged, carefully climbing onto the drivers box to look at the worn leather reins. The two straps of leather lay there, almost invitingly. She had ridden carts many times with Max and the Queen, and to be honest the horses looked rather docile.
With that thought, Ranait took up the reins and sat on the box, wrapping the straps about her hands. Just how hard could it be?
Minako looked around the baker's stall in the market, inhaling the delicious scents that wafted to her nose. It was a quiet morning, only a few people being outrageously noisy out and about as the day started to truly begin. Just as she turned to walk to the stall selling various curries, Max seemed to appear from thin air in front of her, the younger madam jumping visibly and half-screeching. "Minako!"
"MAX! Do you even make a SOUND?!"
Minako then took in her frantic expression, how the woman seemed out of breath. "Has Renny been down this way?"
Once the blonde was calm enough to speak again, she responded carefully. "No, I thought she was with you. Where could she have run off to this time?"
At that moment, shouts and screams of shock and fear rang up the street, people bolting out of main path to escape something that was barreling towards the trio. As it drew closer, Minako could hear the sounds of out of control horse whinnying, and then her charge all but tackling her to the side. "Mina, move you damn idiot!"
As she was knocked aside, ocean hues finally noticed that it was none other than Ranait driving the runaway cart, her pale face half scared, half completely unsure of how to fix the situation. "MAAAAAAAAAAX!" She screeched as she flew down the market way, taking out stalls and products alike.
"Shit... RENNY!" Max shouted and started rushing off after her, shadows helping her clear vast distances that would otherwise be impossible.
Makoto, however, began glancing around, finding a broken wooden pole from a demolished stall nearby. She scrambled to her feet and hoisted it into her hands, looking at her master in determination. "Stay here." She commanded in a stern tone, her long legs helping her to climb walls and clamber up onto a rooftop to pursue the redhead.
Max was running flat-out, her shadows tiring slowly as she tried to catch her young charge before she got herself killed. The Queen would be heart broken if anything happened to either of them, and she would never forgive herself for leaving the girl alone. She could almost smell the fear that was rolling off of the young madam in training, having to dodge debris from the rampaging cart. If she wasn't so afraid for Ranait's safety, she might have found this entire predicament hysterical.
Movement from an upcoming roof caught her attention, dark eyes turning to see Makoto holding a broken staff of wood. "Cut the horses free! I'll halt the cart!" The Kishu slave shouted to the madam.
Without hesitation, Max pulled free several throwing knives and threw them expertly, the two animals screeching as they raced freely through town. The tall slave jumped down and shoved the staff between the wheels as Max grabbed hold of her charge, the cart coming to a jarring halt that flung the three women several yards down the street.
Makoto shook her head, trying to clear it of the daze that fogged it before glancing about, locating the other two rather quickly. Max was sporting a bloody nose, split eyebrow, and several minor bumps and bruises, while Ranait looked as if she had a rather unsightly gash on her forehead, bloody mouth, and other scratches. The older woman was gently trying to rouse her apprentice, her own injuries already starting to knit back together, inky shadows lapping at the marks on her body. "Renny? Renny, please, wake up. Renny!"
After what seemed like an eternity, the girl stirred. "Max...?" She questioned in a disoriented voice, the shadows mostly abandoning their mistress to start doting on the ginger.
The woman looked as if she was torn between crying in relief and throttling her charge. "Have you completely lost your mind?! You could have been killed, you stupid girl! What would I have been able to do then, hmm? How would I explain this to the others?"
Renny wearily scoffed, flapping her hand dismissively, albeit a bit limply. "I had it under control, Max."
"UNDER CONTROL?!"
Makoto felt something wet sliding down her face, reaching up gingerly to touch her forehead and pull the hand down to look at; it was blood. As much as it hurt, she had been through worse and it wasn't serious in reality. Several footsteps and voices started thundering nearer, the slave turning to see a large group of guards and citizens alike rushing towards the scene.
Minako was so worried about the other three that she was pushing aside others in her haste to arrive. Her gaze landed on Max and Renny first, seeing the duo stand as the elder woman continued to chew her out for her stupidity, the Irish teen looking properly embarrassed. When she realized they would be fine, she then looked around for her own charge, seeing Makoto bleeding from her head and several smaller scrapes on her arms and legs. "Mako! Heildar's sake, are you alright?!"
Before she could speak, several merchants stomped angrily over to Max and Renny, clearly fuming. "Madam Max!" One shopkeeper clad in leather and exotic cottons growled out as the two women stood. "Your apprentice just destroyed my stall, costing me fifty kogi of repairs! Not to mention another thirty in wares! I demand payment!"
"I lost forty kogi and seventy dimuts! Your charge has to answer for this!"
Another huffed and spoke up. "Seventy kogi for wares alone, and almost another fifty for my stall. I demand retribution." He looked around at his peers. "We all do."
Max felt her jaw clenching, moving Ranait behind her to act as a shield; she knew where this was heading.
"Your apprentice should be made to be the one to deliver her repayment to us. Especially due to her current status within your brothel."
"Or, you can tally your loses and I will repay them. Send me the bills, and I will send you the coin. That is my offer." Her dark eyes hardened. "Take it, or leave it."
After a bit of grumbling, the merchants submitted to her offer, turning to leave and take stock of the damage as guards finally managed fully onto the scene. Though the elder madam waved them off, they still remained close to the duo, Max rounding on the ginger angrily. "Do you have any idea how many clients I will need to take just to cover this?"
All at once, Ranait seemed to not only wilt, but crumble, looking at her feet in a mixture of shame and hurt. "I didn't mean t'do this, Max. Ye know that it should be me payin' 'em back."
With a sigh, the shadow wielder relented, placing a hand on Ranait's shoulder lightly. "It happened. Let's go home."
As they walked off, Minako took gentle hold of Makoto's arm and began to usher her back to the brothel as well, fussing over the injury every step of the way. Even some of the brothel staff stopped doting on Ranait to check on the tall slave when they entered, being politely brushed off to allow them to head up to the spare room they were staying in, Minako cleaning the wound as best as she could.
"Minako?" She heard Makoto state in a small voice, the blonde standing behind her.
"Yes Mako?"
It seemed that she was sifting through words carefully, though a few tears welled up in her emerald eyes. "I miss my family. I miss my village. I miss my comrades. I..." A small torrent of tears began to cascade down her cheeks. "I miss belonging."
Silently, Minako shifted, standing just on her charge's left side as the slave leaned just enough to rest her head against her stomach, crying freely. The madam didn't know how to soothe her, and so she tenderly cradled Makoto's head against her, stroking her hair. She wasn't used to seeing her so vulnerable, so lost. "I know it's not much, but you have the staff at the Palace. You have me." Her voice was hushed. "You belong there, with us. We care about you, and we count you as a friend."
After a few more minutes, the tears had quieted, but neither woman moved. It was as if that moment was forever frozen, stuck in a private time of compassion between two unlikely friends. Until Makoto broke the spell with a question spoken in a cracked voice.
"Mina? Can we please go home now?"
"Of course, Mako. Of course we can."
It only took them another two hours to ready for their trip out, Max and Ranait both standing outside the brothel with them as they finished tacking up the horses. "You both are always welcome here should you find yourselves in the area." The elder madam offered, the ginger nodding vigorously in agreement.
"Aye. An' ye both have a safe trip."
After handshakes were exchanged, Minako and Makoto mounted their horses and started off on their trip in silence. Which only lasted one bell until Makoto spoke.
"So, you ever bone one of your coworkers before?"
"MAKOTO!"
"Hey, you gotta answer the question Mistress Blondie. Your rules, remember?"
The hall of the Oracles was full of idle chatter, Berthier lounging with her fellow seers on the many plush chases, a growing hum building in the back of her head. Vaguely, she was aware of others also falling quiet around her as her nerves sparked painfully, her body tensing up as her eyes rolled up inside of her head. She barely registered hearing one of the Blinded Guards opening the door to call out a vision was occurring.
"Berthier, hey." She heard another whisper to her, trying to get the pale oracle into a more comfortable position. "It's just me."
'Amilia...' She mentally whimpered, her voice projected into the guard's mind due to her current state. 'Can't hold the vision off much longer.'
"The King is on his way, Zaria and Ainra are making sure of it, I promise."
Heavy footsteps hurried closer as the affected oracles started to lose their ground against the vision, the pull of power flowing through the room pulling a few of the lesser oracles under as well. And then, all at once, they spoke as one, the force of their words palpable.
"Once ruled under shall rule over, the chains that enslave will save us. Again they will clash, no cost will be too high for the war. The dead will rise, the dead will walk, the dead will fight, the dead will live again."
The King stood silently as he listened to the vision, trying desperately to unravel the warning in the cryptic words. What could the dead, chains, and being a ruler mean? He had no idea, but the only real hint he had to go on was a war; one loomed on the horizon.
And it was clear that it would be unlike anything he and his people had ever faced before.
