The Partnership
18th August 2008
Series: The Seer
Summary: The Lady Mardea, the plot thickens, and more hints at the cousins. This chapter is potentially filler-ish, pardon me for that. I needed to lead into the action of the following chapter and reiterate the tension between the cousins. Some hints here, too.
Warnings: Conversations and a lot of hints.

Lady Mardea certainly looked the part of a refined Queen, Shizuka acknowledged when she walked in… and promptly got distracted when Watanuki tensed at the sight of her.

The monk couldn't See anything immediately off about her, this lovely concubine who seemed so very much younger than they expected and almost perfectly at the pinnacle of mature womanhood. Surely whatever it was that had bothered his master, it'd surface soon enough.

And perhaps it might even have something to do with the icy way Prince Amko looked at her.

Shizuka looked her over;

She had dressed in sheer wispy silk robes in elegant colours which left one smooth shoulder bare, wrapped diagonally across her torso to one shoulder, the garment falling to just at the knee. She stood at average height, had a slender but lightly muscled build, a sort of sharp-featured face that made her almond-shaped eyes seem angled. Her dark skin had not seen the sun in a long time and had cooled to a smooth mocha colour. Long dark hair fell not in crackling kinks but smooth waves down her back, portions braided artfully and threaded with brightly coloured beads. Her hands, dainty and long-fingered, were exaggerated by her ridiculously long nails. Her feet remained bare but had been ornamented with bells and beads, tinkling with each step. At her trim waist sat a beautiful belt to which was tied a lovely, ancient hand mirror set in what looked to be white gold.

Watanuki's brows furrowed ever so slightly on that mirror.

She reclined in an ancient wood chair across a low table from himself and his master. Jason and Sorata had returned to their rooms to leave them to this; it would be more than a little improper for too many men to be in the same room with a King's concubine.

Shizuka carefully watched his master's reaction to her now and saw the noble was beginning to relax again, "Good afternoon, Lady Mardea."

"Good afternoon, my lord." Her English came out smooth and caressing, a careful enunciation that gave away the fact she'd been well-schooled at it. Her chin tilted a little haughtily as she asked, "To what do I owe the honour of visiting with such an esteemed man as yourself?"

"Now, Mardea," Amko murmured, his eyes flat as they looked at her, "He is a friend here to perform a favour for me. Such extreme formality is not necessary."

"Friends of yours put me more on my guard, Third Prince, than give me reason not to worry," she replied, voice still that polite and even tone but her face and eyes as cold as ice when she regarded him. She slid her gaze back to Watanuki, softening as she studied him and murmured, "And you… you're not his friend at all." She frowned, "It wouldn't suit you."

Shizuka paused at her words. Did she mean that the way he thought?

Seeming to catch on to her phrasing as well, Watanuki accommodatingly asked, "And how would you know what might suit me or not, kind lady?" Prince Amko seemed to restrain a snort at the address of the concubine but Watanuki ignored him. "Given you have not met me before today."

"You're not… what is the English turn of phrase…?" she said thoughtfully, gracefully gesticulating, "Ah, you're not cut from the same cloth…?"

"Interesting choice of words," Watanuki murmured. He tilted his head at her, "And you, kind lady, what sort of cloth would you say from which you are cut?"

She paused a moment, blinking with surprise, then laughed, "Why, unlike the prince born as fine silk, I was but a coarse common cotton thread woven to suit a new purpose… and not so common anymore." Smiling, she told him, "I have a new life than the one I started, than the life I could have expected."

It seemed odd she chose the way she did to answer, bringing up her origins and not merely discussing the present. It meant her past was something on her mind, or maybe even Amko's as well, Shizuka realised. His gaze slid to Watanuki; his master had probably noticed the same thing.

"Do you enjoy this new life?" Watanuki asked quietly, smiling in an encouraging manner meant to put her at ease.

"Of course," Mardea answered, seeming to warm to him. She gestured around herself, "I am very pleased with my life. I live in a palace, am attended by servants, I have my daughter and neither she nor I will ever want for anything."

"Can you tell me what you like most about your life?" Watanuki asked quietly. "I realise it is a personal question, but all the things you enumerated are what one would expect to hear –palace life and its luxuries, the fortunate fate you have now." He smiled softly, tilting his head in a rather sweet gesture, "I am interested in hearing what you love… from your heart, I should say."

Mardea paused and blinked at him, obviously startled into a loss for words. Then her gaze moved over Amko quickly before returning to Watanuki.

She returned the smile slowly then said quietly, a new and gentle tone in her voice, "The King. He is what I love. Serving him, not in the capacity most would think but truly being with him, is what I love the most."

Amko frowned with displeasure and Shizuka realised suddenly she was in love.

In love with the King.

Her head dipped in a small bow then she spoke again, briskly again, the earlier emotion hidden once more, "Unfortunately, I am not quite his favourite. My daughter is not his, you see."

Watanuki did not comment on that last sentence, perhaps not knowing much about their culture and practices in such things. Instead he nodded and thanked her for her answer, her honesty, and his eyes slid warningly to Amko in silent bid not to comment on what she had said. It was obvious Amko did not like her.

When Watanuki tucked his hands into his sleeves, Shizuka's attention focused on his master, suddenly curious. There was that half-lidded look of his eyes again, the tension about his lips.

"Tell me, Lady Mardea, if you please," he asked softly, in a dreamy sort of tone. "Do you have any habits?" At her blank look, he added, "Whatever kind that comes to mind, it makes no difference."

Mardea blinked then replied, "None that I am aware of, no."

"Then, do you have any personal pursuits or interests?" He persisted, "Anything which you particularly do and no one else does?"

The young noble's eyes slid intently along her left arm and Shizuka realised what bothered his master. Quickly forming a hand seal, he called upon his Sight. Faintly he saw what he had witnessed only the night before, the smoke looping around her index finger and again at her mouth. It seemed no worse and no better than when he had first seen it. Except, now he noticed a shadow cloaked heavily over her mirror.

"No." Mardea seemed puzzled now but her face remained open and friendly enough.

Amko stirred but Watanuki's eyes quickly flicked in his direction again in warning. The noble asked, "Then, I don't suppose you have any strange problems, do you? With your left arm, perchance?"

At this Mardea and Amko froze. It was then Shizuka felt a faint touch, a distant emotion just hovering outside his own awareness. It took him a moment but the monk quickly realised the feeling belonged to Watanuki. Startled, he realised he was beginning to receive his master's emotions… and that this situation moved Watanuki enough into unconsciously transmitting his feelings.

Feelings of dread.

Her voice strained, right hand fluttering, Mardea unsteadily murmured, "I… how did you know about my left arm?"

"Do not worry yourself," Watanuki said, still in that lilting speech, eyes lidded and dark, and making a part of Shizuka's chest twinge unpleasantly. "You hid it well by not moving your right arm too much, to minimise the contrast. In any case, that is not how I noticed." His arms unfolded, one hand coming into view and he held out a little silver bracelet with a red pendant on it, placing it in the middle of the table. "If you would please accept this and wear it on your left wrist, I would like to see if it helps you."

"Of course." Mardea seemed to brighten, relief in her features, looking pleased at this solution to her problem.

"It is not quite sufficient, however," Watanuki added gently as Mardea clasped the bracelet about her left wrist. "The habit I asked you about is something you will need to address." He eyed her arm again. "And you must address it soon." A bland smile pulled his lips, "Please give this as much thought as you can. It is important."

Mardea nodded absently, eyes on her new bracelet.

"What is it that you saw on her arm?" Amko asked, when Mardea had left. "I saw you looking at it." He indicated toward Shizuka, "And he did something before looking as well."

"She carries ill marks," Watanuki replied vaguely, reaching for his tea with a shaking hand. His obvious state of upset disturbed Shizuka.

Amko wasn't deterred, "What does that mean?"

"It means she has done something she should not have." Watanuki sipped his tea, glancing at the untouched cup before the monk beside him. "She has a problem."

"Can you fix it?" Amko didn't seem particularly concerned; his question held a distracted, somewhat obligatory, air to it. Shizuka thought the Prince might not be telling them something.

As though he had caught on to the same thing Watanuki countered, "Why are you worried about her?"

"She might not be my father's favourite." Amko hesitated then admitted, "But her daughter is… mine."

Shizuka finally identified that flash of emotion the prince had shown this morning at the mention of Sia. Glancing at his master, he saw Watanuki nod.

"I see." The noble tucked his hands into his sleeves. "Then in that case I apologise for this but we still need to speak with her."

"Tomorrow," Amko allowed, looking displeased but nodding politely. "I am not eager for this meeting, I must say."

"If she has nothing to hide, honoured prince," Watanuki said quietly, but his tone had turned that particular touch of bland, "then there should not be any problems at all."

"Does she?" Sorata asked, scratching his head. "Have something to hide, I mean."

"Yes." Watanuki looked quiet and contemplative as he knelt on his cushion. For someone raised mainly in England, Shizuka thought his master had a lot of Japanese habits. "She caught my eye because she had smoke on her. And as Doumeki-san pointed out, she's not cursed or spelled. She too has a problem."

Jason, flopped on his back with his head in Watanuki's lap, smiled at that. He pointed out, "But we all have problems. Each their own."

"What do you see?" Shizuka asked as he set a cup of tea before his master, making sure that Watanuki saw him do so. The noble glanced at the tea before looking up at him, startled. "What do you see when you look at them?"

Frowning slightly, Watanuki replied, "To me, Sia has not just a ring around her finger but also a trail of smoke floating around her like a scarf blowing in the wind." He looked sad, stroking fingers through his cousin's pale blond hair, Jason's eyes slipping shut. "She's my prime suspect as the thief. The fourth finger sort of indicates so."

"Eh?" Jason muttered, "What's the fourth finger mean? I thought it was just the wedding finger."

"The lore of Western marriage tradition comes from the Roman culture," the noble explained, holding up his hand and the finger in question. "This finger is said to be that which links directly to the heart, a symbol of love." He gestured to Sorata who said,

"We all know that every part of the body connects in some way to the heart so the tradition is rather out-dated." The priest shook his wrist indicating his wedding bracelet. "But to this day people still associate the wedding ring with binding a person's heart, to belong to another." He shrugged, "Without associating the ancient magical lore and its associated truth, to the modern belief."

"Aaaaaand?" Jason prodded quietly, eyes lazily half-lidded, smiling with curiosity.

"Every finger has a name and serves a purpose," Watanuki explained, reaching for his tea. "The fourth does not. It is a nameless finger, merely 'the fourth' and for good reason. It is the most lost of all and needs to be claimed or be given purpose. The heart and the symbol of love were linked to it because, nameless as it is, it's the hungriest of all." He looked at the floor but his eyes seemed to focus on something much farther away.

An interesting bit of knowledge, the monk thought. He paused before asking, "Does this have anything to do with the… smallest finger, with fate?" He used the Japanese word, implying the deeper meaning behind it.

Quickly, an uneasy expression crossed Watanuki's face. He furrowed his brows at the monk, "No. It has more to do with the thumb because actually, the fourth finger is the anti-thumb. For the reasons I mentioned and because its fate is one that is to be made."

"And she is making her own," Jason breathed, understanding. He wrinkled his nose, "The hungriest of fingers? What an odd choice of description." Held up his fourth finger and wiggled it, frowning at the bare skin.

"And Mardea?" Shizuka prodded. "How does she look to you?"

With a small grimace, Watanuki admitted, "Worse than you see. The ring on her index finger curls around her wrist and up her arm, loops about the neck and trails into her mouth."

"Sounds horrible," Sorata commented. His eyes reflected worry, "Does its presence make you ill?"

Watanuki shook his head. "No. Which means its sin is something she doesn't do often… else, it's something she is unconscious of or perhaps does without intent." He waved dismissively, "I'm inclined to think it's something she isn't aware of because all that smoke I see seems to start at the mirror she carries."

A mere presence could harm Watanuki? Shizuka filed the information away; that explained the coughing fit on the ship the day they'd salvaged the arms chest. "I truly do not see as much as you do. I could only tell there was smoke, but not where it connected or started from."

"Good for you," Watanuki muttered under his breath. He continued at a normal volume, "But it makes no sense." With a shake of his head, "I'm positive that the Poisoner's aura is from Mardea but there is no evil. There is some malice in her, there is in any human, but…" He paused then thoughtfully added, "The mirror isn't evil either though it's certainly no where near harmless."

"Two women, each as puzzling," Sorata mused. His furrowed brows and preoccupied expression face indicated he was giving the situation some deep thought.

"Hmmm," Jason hummed. "Hey, since Doumeki-san noticed a connection between the two, I can't be the only one wondering if maybe the two are working together, can I?"

"You're not." Watanuki stroked his hand over Jason's head. "But it's to be noted Mardea lives separately from the harem as well as her daughter. Sia is now in the Prince's harem and the two do not interact very much anymore. How would they work together?"

"Perhaps we should start looking a little further back," Jason suggested, smiling mischievously. "I'm beginning to wonder who or what Mardea used to be; this coarse thread she says she once was. Maybe it's a clue."

Sorata nodded and Shizuka had to agree the happy fool had a point. If it was on Mardea's mind then it probably should be on theirs. "We should probably look into the prince's past as well."

Watanuki glanced at him in surprise, "Do you have reservations about him? Other than his blooded aura, I cannot see anything different about him."

"We won't know until we look," Jason reminded, stabbing a finger in the air. "You mustn't make assumptions, Kim." His eyes slid shut again as he smiled but not before Shizuka noticed the encroaching darkness in them. "To assume, especially for the better of things, is to not be prepared when the worst happens."

Watanuki quieted at those words.

Startled, Shizuka exchanged blank glances with Sorata –and found himself feeling disappointed. He'd only looked to Sorata because the man might know about these strange things Jason said which no one but he and Watanuki seemed to understand. No resource there, he realised.

He could only determine that whatever it was, there was a chance their current project held some similarities to a past situation the cousins shared; that it hit a little too close to home.

TBC.

Author Notes: (two sections)

First off, thank you so much to the additional people who reviewed and were unregistered users. I couldn't reply to you but I still want to offer my thanks: terisu-seifa, V, RAWR, and daphne paredes. Thank you for your comments.

Thank you also to everyone's efforts! I'm so amazed by the call to arms at my bribe. So many people responded (fifty-six of you did; wow). It wasn't quite close enough to the eighty-count of the condition but it was still a wonderful response and I'm completely impressed.

Thank you for your support, everyone!

So as a special treat, I'd like to offer a drabble request! We need to decide what to write first so I think we need options and then hold a vote. The first five people to comment on this chapter should suggest what they think the drabble should be about. I will post those first five options in my author notes in my next chapter and when you review that chapter (chapter 18) you can vote which options you want me to do (you can vote for up to two) and whichever wins is what I will write about! I hope that's fair.

I've had a few people comment lately about my plea for reviews –all anonymous ones save for one. I can appreciate, understand and accept it if such requests as mine upset a person... but I was quite disappointed that these opinions came without a question mark anywhere in them. Not once did any of those who criticised me for asking for reviews ever ask me why I do.

But since you gave your opinions then I expect you to take mine:

Pandora-chan, the reply I sent you was too brief and too cold. I apologise for that. But my explanation stands; a little more of that below. Blah and Di Long, here is my answer:

While your three reviews pointed out I am being greedy, and I can't contest that because I am VERY greedy for reviews, but I think I need to clarify what I am being greedy for about them:

In every chapter, I remind people to review, this is true. I offer bribes and explanations, or basically anything I can to get the reviews. This is because I have written this story from the perspective of already knowing the story in my own way. So what I write and what a reader understands are two very different things. I have a very single perspective on this story, despite the layers that it has, and this perspective is very limiting.

When a reader shares what they thought, understood or felt as they read my story, these are all things that have never occurred to me. In some instances, I will hear a perspective or opinion that I never even considered. And this perspective or thought will be about something which I myself wrote!

The point is, to read those things help me to learn how to look at my own stories. What are the benefits of that? I won't write the next story or even the next chapter in quite the same way. I will have considered a new idea or perspective that I never have before. This only helps to enrich the story and make it even more emotional or detailed or deep… and develops me as a writer.

Just writing the stories that I have, one after the next, and developing new plots and new characters, only gave me so much practice. And frankly, that's not enough. I want at some point to be good enough to publish and I am willing to work damn hard for it. But like all other kinds of learning, self-teaching is only going to get you so far until you have to get help from someone else or get to practice what you're learning on someone else. Writing the stories is just self-study. Getting feedback and input is the actual practical exercise.

If you think I'm being greedy, well yes I am being greedy. If you don't like that, then you don't --but I'd like to see you suggest another way to grow as a writer at zero cost.

Admittedly, a good portion of my reviews aren't very helpful but a certain percentage of them are. Naturally, if you increase the overall number of reviews then the number of informative reviews will also increase. This logic is what I am working with and I'm doing the best I can in the best way I know how.

I'm still going to write and I'm still going to post, and I'm still going to probably annoy the living daylights out of people by asking for comments and reviews. I can accept your perspectives if you tell me I'm being greedy or arrogant, or if my review-badgering ways offends you. I do, unfortunately expect that I can be accepted for how I feel in turn. And I'm sorry, but I don't accept that you can tell me not to do this.

In the end, let's live and let live. Thank you for telling me what you thought and what you like or don't like. These here are my thoughts and thank you for considering them.

Tsu