July 21, Summer, year 36

I think I got the biggest shock of my life today… King Yasuo, Skye's father… He was the one in my dream!

Claire had spent the better part of an hour awake, just listening to the sounds outside the chambers. She had slipped from the bed, actually moving to a window so that she could look out over the grounds. Mist bathed the ground, providing a muffling gray hue to the rest of the pastel blanket.

What few sounds there were, it tended to be the sounds of footsteps, and even those seemed hushed. It was almost eerie, the silence. For a brief moment she wondered if she wasn't dreaming again. Those fear-filled dreams had always been near-silent beyond the sound of running feet, the harsh gasping of breath…

She shuddered slightly, then jumped about a foot as Skye's hand brushed against her head. The Prince chuckled tiredly, as she relaxed again, leaning into the touch then leaning into him as his arm curled around her waist.

"Something on your mind?"

"It's just… really quiet," she sighed softly. "I guess it's a little unnerving. Silence never gets very comfortable around here."

He had to admit to that after a minute. He was more used to the bustle and good-cheer of the farm than the cool courtesy and near-silence of the palace grounds. Footsteps were usually the loudest noises made in the hallways, other than the rare conversation.

"Well, I can think of one silence that's comfortable," and he grinned at her.

Claire snorted lightly and thumped him in the shoulder, amusement flickering across her face.

"You're horrible," she chuckled softly. "you know that?"

"Mmhm, but that's never stopped you before."

She ducked her head so that her golden hair swung forward hiding her face. Skye blinked, concern stabbing at him. The shaking of her shoulders made him wonder if maybe he'd been an idiot and made her cry… and then the giggles could no longer be repressed.

He relaxed then, letting out a private sigh of relief. Sometimes he jumped the wrong way, even after all this time. Still, it was fun even if accidental, and none of their arguments took any tone of seriousness.

"So does this mean you don't want to have our own comfortable silence?"

Blue eyes met and locked with sea-green, glittering with laughter.

"There would be one if you'd be quiet," her grin was wickedly mischievous, "and just hold on."

He complied readily, resting his chin on her head, and settling his other arm around her shoulders. Moments like this were rare enough, especially with five kids, so the pair happily took advantage of the silence.

She melted back into his embrace, blue eyes slipping half closed as they stared out the window together, looking at nothing.

"Claire?"

"Mmm?" She looked up, tilting her head slightly. It was rare that he used her name instead of the many pet-names. It usually meant he was serious, a state that was rare.

"Thank you."

She blinked, startled as he pulled her closer, protectively. It wasn't that he was going to cry—Skye would be the first to admit that, while he'd been in awe of his father, it had never bee more than hero-worship. Nothing like the love he held for his children and his wife—but to have her be there for him… It wasn't anything he'd ever expected.

Had his mother tried to push Lady Hikari on him years earlier, he might never have known this magnitude of emotion, none of which was detrimental in the slightest. If anything, strong emotional attachments made him stronger.

And his introspection was clearly worrying his wife, who had tensed up ever so slightly, shifting around so that she could actually look at him. He smiled down at the concerned blonde, who looked like she was torn between saying something or letting him think.

"Just thinking about how lucky I am love," he reassured her. "That's all."

"You sure?" one blonde eyebrow went up as Claire scrutinized him. "You looked… depressed."

Skye's smile was faint, but it was there. After a moment she smiled back, relief easing the tensed shoulders. Seeing him worry over something she couldn't help him with bothered her more than she was willing to admit.

"You know," and his voice was low, silky in a way she recognized, "we could be doing something more enjoyable."

"I thought this was enjoyable," she teased gently. "Though I must admit missing the sunrise…"

He snorted with laughter, and leaned in to kiss her. She reached up at almost the same moment, arms twining around his neck.

It was long, slow and sweet, the kind that could—and often did—steal breath away, and make hearts pound. It was the one reserved for Claire and Claire alone, the one who had wormed his way into his heart by being herself, instead of what she thought he wanted her to be.

"You know," he murmured, looking down into her flushed face once they separated, "there's better places for this than by the window.."

"Where everyone could get a good view," and she grinned a little impishly.

For a split second his eyes went wide at her, before she burst out laughing. For that she got thrown over his shoulder—note exactly the easiest feat in the world thanks to their similarity in height and weight. He cheated and used a bit of magic to help him—and tossed onto the fluffy bed, then jumped on after her.

Claire squeaked a little but the bed gave with her weight, so her breath was only slightly knocked out. This lasted until Skye 'pounced' on her, being careful to actually land a little to her side—they'd had many false starts in the past when their play had inadvertently reminded her of some of the things Damien had pulled—and gave her a mock-scowl.

"I know I said be yourself," he huffed lightly, "but where in that did I ask you to shred what little dignity I had up here?"

She grinned up at him.

"You never said I couldn't," she pointed out.

He paused to think about this, giving her ample time to retake the advantage. This time it was Claire who pounced, half tackling him. The landed with her on top, straddling her husband with a smirking grin. It was a good thing the bed was large, at home they would've had to be a touch more careful so that they didn't fall onto the floor at some point.

Which had happened, and ruined moment upon moment. Even with a cushion of rug, the floor was not a comfortable place to land.

The continued to play-wrestle for a little bit; in truth this was their foreplay. Teasing, laughing, poking and prodding, until one got the total advantage over the other, the spot on top.

Skye won this at last, Claire conceding defeat when he tickled her into submission too breathless to argue. Their lips met again, briefly, before Skye shifted, sliding his mouth along her jaw line and down the side of her neck. While not a sweet spot, this was one of the more sensitive ones he'd found in the past years, enough to draw forth a swift intake of breath.

Of course that could be left over from the fact that she was trying to catch her breath, but still.

His hands slipped under the light cotton fabric of her pajama top, careful not to tickle so much as caress this time. Not to say that her hands were idle, as they slid through his hair and across his shoulders. In all but the dead of winter he slept shirtless, a faint, genuine blessing for the both of them.

He nipped lightly at the place where neck and shoulder met, and was rewarded with a light gasp that had nothing to do with regaining lost breath. He looked up briefly, enjoying the way Claire's face was flushed a light pink, blue eyes hazy as she looked down at almost the same moment.

Skye ran his tongue lightly over her collarbone, smiling slightly as she shivered under his knowing touch. The smirk lasted until she lightly ran the tips of her fingers up his spine, with just enough pressure to be felt. Now it was his turn to shiver, pressing his mouth to her neck as he did so.

His slim fingers unfastened the buttons that held Claire's top closed as she leaned upwards slightly, which moved his mouth from her neck to the empty air, and she returned the favor. Only she knew a weak spot for him, and held no remorse in using it.

Lightly she ran her tongue over his earlobe, grinning inwardly when his hands twitched lightly as a full shiver passed through him. She released him only briefly to work the rest of the way out of her top—she preferred long sleeves in all but summer, and button-down shirts were comfortable.

The tide shifted once more as the shirt was tossed rather unceremoniously off the bed, and before the blonde really had any time to brace herself, Skye had slipped from her head, to her neck again, then down across her chest, making her arc a little under his ministrations.

In that instant, all she could do was ran her fingers through his bright silver hair and admire the color through the haze of pleasure he was giving her.

The next thing to go were both pairs of pajama pants, which somehow got them into play wrestling again, limbs tangling as they did so, causing pleasure to shiver through the both of them.

Skye closed his eyes briefly, letting his thoughts drift from the moment at hand to the moment sixteen years before. Quite a bit different, her nerves had given her away then, and he'd patiently had to teach her most of the tricks she was using now. But then, given who had initially tried to take her…

She gave a light nip to his neck, snapping his attention back to her and their current surroundings. There was an almost-frown on her face, and he smiled a little sheepishly. Claire just shook her head lightly, and pulled his head down, her mouth brushing lightly over his forehead first, then their lips met again.

As he slid into her—eliciting a soft whimper of pleasure—the tip of his tongue lightly darted around hers teasingly, as if to say 'catch me, my love.' Which she set about doing, even as they started rocking together, heading for the heights of pleasure.

Claire let out a gasp as her climax swept over her, muscles going tense and tight. It brought Skye over the edge as well, and he buried his face in her hair, holding her as tight as he dared.

Several minutes passed, the silence broken only by the gasping of the pair on the bed. Claire's head rested on her husband's shoulder, eyes closed, her face a mask of bliss. Slowly, Skye loosened his hold on her, rolling them both to the side so that he didn't inadvertently squish her.

For all they were similar in weight it was oddly easier to have her on top of him than the other way around.

She shifted slightly herself, pressing her back to his chest and let out a very contented sigh. He let out a faint, weary chuckle, and let his head drop into a sea of gold.

Claire let out a faintly pleased sigh as she stood under the shower. Being able to stand on her own two feet and not be knocked down by the—relatively minor—force of the falling water was better than she'd been able to manage for most of the week.

Maybe there was something to that over-sweet food they'd finally been allowed to quit eating. She'd been looking forward to actual food for a while now, almost wishing that she could go shanghai the kitchen for herself.

At least up until she recalled that cooking was not her strong suit. Then she just wanted to raid the kitchen.

All the girls were in the bathroom, cleaning up for the funeral. Mirei and Meredith were in the bathtub, splashing water at each other and giggling. Lauren was soaping herself down in preparation for joining the girls in the tub, leaving the shower to her mother.

The males, being less numerous, had gotten their turn first and were already dressing. The color of the day—since Claire had impressed upon them that it would be a good idea to be respectful at a funeral—was the color that was traditional for a funeral, which was a whole lot of white.

"We're all gonna look like ghosts!" Alan grinned. "Wonder if we can make Meri jump?"

Jamie reached out and whacked his younger brother lightly on the head, beating even Skye's frown.

"Mom would kill you," the silver-haired teen said. "If Lauren didn't get you first."

Alan thought about this, as Skye tried not to smile. Claire's punishments were straightforward, but Lauren always came up with something tricky to throw everyone off-stride. Not to mention that outside of her mother Lauren adored the baby of the family the best.

"Rats," the boy muttered. "No fair."

"Scaring your little sister wouldn't be very fair either," Skye replied, just sharply enough to make the boy wince. "She's only four after all."

The green eyed boy sighed and scuffed the floor with one white shoe, mentally if not vocally admitting that his dad made a point.

Twenty minutes later, washed, dried and dressed, the girls left the bathroom, a haze of gauze and silk in various shades of cream and white made them look more ghost-like than the boys. Alan just about jumped a foot, making his brother snicker.

"So, what's supposed to happen?" Claire asked quietly, her hair tightly braided and tied off with a white ribbon.

"Speeches," Skye nodded slightly. "From Mother, Yuki and Daisuke. Then a bit of music, followed by everyone getting a chance to view him. After that Mother will cast the spell that will return his body to the earth and then we'll be allowed to eat the death feast."

"Sounds morbid," Lauren commented, adjusting the fall of her ponytail. "No offense Dad."

"None taken," he chuckled. "No worries. Now come, we should get moving."

It was… the best word that came to mind was 'statuesque.' Tall marble pillars were draped in white silk and gauze, Moon Flowers—any white flower that glowed was designated a 'Moon' flower, so while there were roses there were also lilies, daisies, snowdrops and many numerous other types of white flower—surrounded almost every corner of the room.

If Claire didn't know any better she'd say the place had the look and feel of one of the ancient temples back on Earth. Except for the fact that the roof was missing and all that.

As wife-and-family to the 'heir-apparent'—Claire couldn't wait to see the faces when Daisuke got up to speak instead of Skye—they were allowed to sit on one of the cushioned stone benches, second row from the front. Since from the third row back the stone appeared to be straight marble, Claire couldn't help but have a silent moment of thanks.

The cushioning was a little like the could carriage that had taken them to Skye's waterfall area only a few days before, and despite her whispered warning—there was something about the tension in the air that set her nerves humming—the younger three couldn't help but make it bounce slightly.

After a quiet conversation, they settled down near the aisle, Skye on the outside the kids between them. Claire ignored the PoM's haughtily pleased looks, knowing that the only reason the kids were between was because they needed more protection than she did. True, Lauren and Jamie could look after themselves, but the younger ones were always the most vulnerable.

Which was why Meredith was curled in her lap, quite contentedly, and the older twins had hold of the younger ones. Had it been anything less than a mother's order, it was very likely that none of them would have gone along with it, but if there was something they'd all learned it was that Claire never asked for anything without reason. Even if it didn't seem too obvious, she was trusted.

Many more courtiers filtered in, filling the open aired temple with a sea of silver and white. Jamie nudged his twin.

"Jeez… you and Mom look pretty out of place."

Lauren resisted—barely—the urge to smack him, reminding herself that it was a funeral and she didn't want to get into trouble with her mother. The tension in the air was getting to her as well, and it didn't help that she didn't look like her brother.

"Tell me something I don't know jackass," she shot back, just loud enough for him to hear. "Way to rub it in…"

Jamie blinked, blue eyes going wide in surprise. True he always stood out, but he hadn't been thinking about it in those terms. It was more like turnabout for all the times she'd teased him! The panicked, apologetic look cooled Lauren's temper considerably, and she let off the faintest of annoyed sighs. Then, relenting, she lightly thumped her twin in the shoulder, all the punishment she could give him at the moment.

Finally the royalty drifted in, taking the bench in front of Skye and his family. Queen Tsukiko, resplendent in pure white and silver drifted down the aisle graciously nodding her head as her court whispered words of sympathy.

Claire had to bite the inside of her cheek to resist saying something that would get her in trouble. While it was likely that most of them didn't understand such a thing as grief or genuine sympathy, saying as much wouldn't be the best way to go.

Especially considering her husband was one of them, and her children were half. It wasn't hard to feel alone in this crowd.

Skye reached around the twins, and lightly tugged her braid. She twitched, reached out to smack at his hand, then paused and smiled faintly, instead lacing her fingers with his.

Alone in blood maybe, but never alone in spirit.

The whispers of surprise when Daisuke had stepped up to the platform instead of Skye were uncertainty mixed with confusion, and even a tiny bit of outrage. The fact that he sat there, flaunting his mortal wife and half-breed children was almost too much to bear.

But doing it in such a crowded venue would blow all plausible deniability to shreds. Not to mention what would happen after… If the blow wasn't clean—and there were many people between the intended target—then the healers would undo all the damage and it would have been for naught. There would still be a living problem and then there would be none left to take care of it.

The music, Claire discovered, was unlike anything she'd ever heard, and thanks in part to her friendship with Nami and Gustafa, she'd heard quite a bit of strange music. It was… eerie, to say the least. Of all the stringed instruments, the only thing she recognized was a violin. There were several flutes as well, all of them soaring and intertwining around each other in a way that made her think of the rushing winds of the storms at home.

In unison, Claire and her children shuddered. Skye just squeezed her hand lightly, having forgotten the effect of the music himself.

Thankfully it wasn't a long section, the way the speeches had been, and in almost no time the People were lining up to get one last glimpse of the king who had led them for well over three hundred years.

They waited until almost everyone had gotten to see King Yasuo before joining the tail end of the line. Skye's farewell wasn't as private as he'd hoped, but it was a farewell at least, as well as a passing wonder if perhaps his father would have been as disappointed in him as his mother for choosing Claire over Hikari.

Claire didn't intend to give the former king more than just a passing glance, but she couldn't prevent her blue eyes from widening any more than she could keep the color from fleeing her face.

She forced herself back towards calmness, even as her hands clenched tightly in the fabric of her clothes. Surely it couldn't have been him. That face was so similar to the others, fine boned and almost feminine in delicacy… No, it couldn't have been the face of the man she'd been killing in her dreams.

Could it?

For once, Skye didn't notice the troubled look on his wife's face as she studied the king closer now. A scar along his temple, lines across his brow… a crescent shaped scar on the back of his left hand.

It took a great deal of control to not grab Skye and demand they leave. By which she meant return to Earth and their home and never come back, and damned to hell what the council wanted.

Several deep breaths, and a couple of retreating steps later, Claire was able to get a grip on herself. Since the kids had elected to stay on the bench, the were probably the only ones to see Claire's reaction beyond Toshihiro, Akio, and Kaemon.

The elder twins exchanged worried looks, released the younger pair, and got up, going over to their mother. She reacted strongly to death, but never like that, and to the death of a complete stranger too. It was… unnerving.

But by the time they reached her she had her control back and she gave them gentle smiles.

"We'll give you father a few more minutes," she said softly. "Then we can get something to eat."

Jamie and Lauren thought various unkind things about her way of hiding important things from them, and it was all the green-eyed teen could do to keep herself from kicking her father to get him to ask what the problem was.

Claire didn't linger at the feast, but she let everyone else, turning away Skye's offer to take her back, saying that she needed to walk more than sit in a room.

Once freed she tossed off most of the gauze, leaving it with the pillars, and moved down the path of roses, trying to keep her head down. Sure, it was hard considering her hair color, but she really didn't want to talk to anyone at the moment while she tried to sort things out.

So she walked until she couldn't hear the quiet talk, the clatter of dishes, couldn't smell the food, and most importantly, couldn't see the bier that held King Yasuo. She passed People occasionally. Some gave her appraising stares, others glared, and still others ignored her.

It wasn't until she'd walked for about half an hour that she finally found a place alone, away from all of them. Unfortunately, it was the same place she'd found her first day out, the place where Yasuo had been killed.

She reached out and rested her hands on the blood-stained stone. Soaked blood never really disappeared, she had learned this after sixteen years of farming. Even though it might seem too, there would always be a tinge where it was loosed.

"What's happening to me…?" she wondered, looking at her reflection in the fountain. "Was Win right? Am I really have dreams of the future? But… why? I'm outside the influence here, what can I do?"

Alone and vulnerable. What a perfect opportunity. Walking so far from the funeral party made the fool mortal a perfect target.

A blade began slipping clear from its sheathe, then was snapped back in with a silent curse as Kaemon approached the unhappy blonde. Again it would have to wait. Perhaps calling in the other woman would be necessary after all.

"Are you feeling alright Lady Claire?"

Claire jumped about a foot, nearly landing in the fountain due to her abject surprise. She opened her mouth to snap at the person who had followed her, then let out a tired sigh when she saw it was Kaemon, one of the few she didn't feel like alienating.

"You'd think I'd be able to hear when people sneak up on me," she complained instead, propping her hands on her hips. "First Skye, then Tenshi, now you! Jeez…"

Kaemon stifled a chuckle—he had, as he usually did, forgone the wearing of his robes—and gave her a slight bow.

"My apologies. You seemed distressed earlier… was the funeral so unnerving?"

"Oh, no… well, maybe a little. The music wasn't what I was used to."

Claire found herself at a loss. Kaemon had noticed what her husband had missed, but while she wanted to trust him, there was that voice in the back of her mind that made her keep her next words to herself. Blame it on the music, that would work.

"What sort of music do you normally have?" Kaemon sat on the lip of the fountain, seemingly unconcerned about the stains upon it.

"Well.. that depends on who did the arranging but at home we usually sing their favorite song as a last farewell."

"What would you sing?"

Blue eyes blinked, and Claire started blankly for a minute.

"Why are you asking me?" she finally said. "I would think that as his son you would know better than I what to sing."

"But I don't," and Kaemon's smile was crooked. "My father, believe it or don't, was always looking out for So—Skye and Daisuke. Sometimes to the negligence of the rest of us. Oh it's not to say that he didn't care for the rest of us, but it was never quite to the same magnitude."

And Claire listened quietly as Kaemon told her about King Yasuo. How he had pushed both the elder sons towards perfection because to be King required perfection. It had been partially that which had caused Skye to turn towards the Earth in search of what he couldn't find on the Moon.

"Even within the robes, things can sometimes be felt," his voice was quiet; she knew he was telling her a well-kept secret. "I still feel strong emotions, like the love for my wife and daughter, though I must admit they are much dimmed. And I tell you this because I know that look in your eyes, it is similar to the one my Akahari gives me."

For a moment she too saw a familiar look, in the dreamy bemused smile Kaemon had. It reminded her of her first few years married to Skye, when had had continued to wonder over the fact that she not only loved him, but had married him.

"Skye did not leave just because of our father," his sudden speech made her jump again, "but because this is the wrong type of life-style for him, and he had no way to adapt to it without breaking something very fundamental in his spirit. So instead a wanderlust hit him, and he wheedled his way down to Earth.

"I believe from the very beginning that he had no intention of ever returning," Kaemon's voice was serious enough that Claire couldn't help but believe him. "It just took him this long to find someone who suited him better than any ever could."

She blushed, flapping a hand at him in embarrassment.

"You find it hard to believe?"

"Well, sometimes," she leaned back slightly, hands resting on the stone lip. "I guess. The looks your fancy couriers keep throwing me aren't exactly the most helpful of things in building up a girl's self-esteem after all."

"You are more obviously opinionated." He retorted, an amused smile tugging at his lips. "As it my eldest brother after so many years of being allowed to have his own sort of control."

Claire's brow furrowed as she thought about this, trying to decide whether she should be taking offense over it, or if it was actually a backwards compliment.

"I thought you had control," she replied, tilting her head fractionally to the side. "As far as I've noticed those robes of yours are perfect control in teeny form."

"But there's always a downside. You've seen the difference between Eldest sister Yukiko and Youngest Sister Hoshiko, correct? Or even the difference between Elder Brother Akio and Youngest Brother Yue."

She didn't even have to think about that one, the chosen pairs were as different from each other as night was from day. Akio was serious, even without his robes, very strategical and statistical. He'd dropped by for a short while and had thoroughly defeated her at several games of chess when she'd been laid up. And Yukiko… biddable was the first thing that came to Claire's mind when she thought about her. Too biddable. Their younger counterparts were exuberant with life, ready to live it, and take what was given.

"The robes cause this. The disconnection of who and what we could truly be."

"If you dislike them so much, why wear them at all?"

"Because in certain earlier time periods without them our People would have crumbled to dust."

The reply was so matter-of-fact that it took Claire a minute to process. Idly in the back of her mind she found herself admiring how quick the conversation changed, and how she'd like it to change again so that she didn't have to answer anything too uncomfortable.

"I…. have no words," she admitted at last with a shrug. "Beyond rather impressed swearing, and I'm pretty sure that it wouldn't go over to well around here."

Kaemon chuckled.

"Skye," and Claire propped a hand on her hip in annoyance. "For the love of the gods, why are you sulking about this? It was a conversation. Nothing more. He's got a wife and daughter of his own for goodness sake."

The answer of 'but it wasn't a conversation with me,' would have gotten him smacked. Hard. So he just huffed and continued to sulk, which was also in danger of getting him smacked.

Actually it did get him smacked, on the back of the head, and it made the Prince-turned-thief-turned-farmer rather glad that the children were sleeping and couldn't see this.

"He gave me an impromptu history lesson you dork," she sighed, when even that failed to make him stop sulking. "And if you don't knock it off I'm going to go find someone else to hang out with for a while."

That got his attention, and he spun in place, staring at her in surprise. It was clear from her expression that she was more than ready to get some sleep, and would stubbornly stint herself if he didn't shape up. After a long minute Skye sighed, and ran a hand through his hair.

"I'm… sorry," he grimaced slightly, sea-green eyes flicking down at the floor then back across the room to meet annoyed blue. "I guess it is a little stupid to be jealous of a younger sibling."

Some of the exasperation melted away into amusement.

"Eh…" and she shrugged one shoulder wryly. "At least you all had separate rooms. I had to bunk with my sister. You want chaos, that was chaos. At least according to Mom and Dad.

"Now are you gonna go to bed, or am I going to have to smack you again?"

He chucked slightly, and reached out to lightly stroke her cheek.

I should probably tell him the truth… but I still wonder why I dreamed the death? Am I supposed to solve this mess in some manner?

…I hope not. I wouldn't know the first place to begin. I handle life, not… buh, just thinking about that blade gives me the shivers. Please no dreams tonight. I don't need them now.