Well, goodness. I'm a day late with this one, but it did not come easily. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! :)
Thank you to everyone who has left kind words and reviews thus far! I can't explain how much I appreciate you taking the time to read and leave a comment.
A Knight and His Shitennou
It started off innocently enough with a couple of bets here and there. The stakes were never anything of great value – a few shillings, an extra serving of apple crumble at dinner or a night spent polishing the victor's armour. But the older Endymion got, and the more arduous the tasks became, the higher the stakes rose.
Nights spent outside the prince's chambers waiting for dawn to break were now winding treks through palace passageways and rooted forests. Afternoons of boys sparring down by the river with pointed sticks had turned into solider's preparations for war, and every day they emerged with bloodied flesh and aching limbs. Studies of history and maths had evolved into strategy and politics, their answers now worth more than a mere right or wrong.
It was a heavy burden to carry, so they dealt with it in the most logical way possible.
"All right." Jadeite's eyes narrowed, and he rubbed his palms together. "Two nights of guard duty says I can saddle my horse faster than any of the three of you." He raised his brow, waiting for someone to take his offer.
"Still not playing these games," Kunzite said, lifting a harness from the rack. As the senior member of the royal guard, he had a certain disposition to maintain.
"You're getting desperate." Zoisite smirked, knowing just how to get under Jadeite's skin.
"Afraid to lose?" Jadeite challenged, head cocked to the side; there was no way in hell he could stomach another night of following Endymion around on one of his not-so-secret meetings with that wily Moon Princess.
"Make it three nights, and I'll take it," Nephrite said.
"Fine." Jadeite extended his arm, and they locked wrists in agreement. "First one on top wins," he said, and Nephrite nodded, tying back his long chestnut hair with a piece of rope. "Zoisite, count us down?"
On Zoisite's signal they gathered their tack, Nephrite in two trips and Jadeite all in one cumbersome load. The horses whinnied, hooves pawing the ground at the commotion around them. The two men closed buckles and tightened straps, fingers fumbling as they fought to be the fastest.
Zoisite and Kunzite watched with mute interest, heads shaking and lips curving. They broke into a slow applause as Nephrite clamoured onto his horse, and claimed his victory causing a string of curses to spill from Jadeite's mouth.
"Next three nights are yours," Nephrite gloated, looking forward to his upcoming nights of uninterrupted sleep.
Kunzite gave Jadeite a sympathetic clap on the back. "Maybe you'll get lucky and she'll bring that Mars witch along again," he whispered, and a slight blush rose to Jadeite's cheeks.
"She's not a witch," he grumbled, taking hold of his horse's reins, and leading him from the stable.
A fortnight later Jadeite rushed into the courtyard, where the rest of the royal guard waited for Endymion's audience with his father to finish. A childish grin spread across his face, and baby blues twinkled as he held a small leather sachet tightly in his hand.
"Gentlemen," he said, placing the package in his palm as if he were a showman. "Our next wager."
"What is it?" Kunzite asked, neck extending slightly to get a better look. While he continued to opt out, he did enjoy watching Jadeite lose. Repeatedly.
"Cloves." He untied the strings to reveal a handful of brown sticks. "Smell them," he instructed, handing the sachet to Kunzite. He cautiously leaned in, jerking back when the aroma overwhelmed his senses.
"How did you even get this?" Kunzite shook his head, passing the sachet to Zoisite.
"The chef found some for me in the kitchen," Jadeite explained. "You have a date with her next week, by the way." He flashed a saccharine smile, and pointed at Nephrite who rolled his eyes.
"I'll remember that during practice tomorrow."
"God, that is strong." Zoisite winced, holding the cloves at arm's length.
"Ugh," Nephrite cringed. "So, what do you want us to do with it?"
"Whoever spits out their portion first does two weeks sparring with Endymion." Jadeite crossed his arms, and straightened his back, unable to hide a smug smile – he had this in the bag.
"Deal," Zoisite said, knowing that two weeks of painful training was well worth a few minutes of odorous spice.
"Let's do it," Nephite agreed, licking his lips in preparation.
"Come on, Kunzite," Jadeite tried, but the general only shook his head in reply.
The three competitors stood in a circle, rolling necks, and shaking ankles to loosen their bodies. Jadeite filled each man's palm with cloves, tossing the empty bag to the side. They looked one another in the eye, simultaneously counted to three, and shoved the spice into their mouth.
The taste was almost pleasant at first, reminding them of autumn cider and Christmas treats. But the longer the cloves sat, the more they intensified, and the flavour began to burn their throats. Eyes watered, and noses ran, and before long Jadeite was spitting his mouthful into the garden, gasping for a clean breath of air. Nephrite and Zoisite soon followed suit, swallowing saliva, and scraping their tongues. They wheezed and coughed, backs hunched and hands on knees.
"I really thought I'd win," Jaedite lamented, sitting on the edge of the courtyard fountain, face buried in his hands.
"You're going to have a long two weeks," Zoisite said, shaking his head to hide his grin.
"I still have a welt on my leg from when I fought him six days ago." Nephrite pulled up his pant leg to show off his wound. "Who knew that scrawny kid would become such a great swordsman."
"The Queen was livid when she found out we were teaching him," Kunzite recalled, posture relaxing as a shallow sigh escaped his lips. He vividly remembered Endymion as a boy; bright-eyed, and ready to take on the world. Much had changed since those formative years, but he had grown into a man they were proud to serve.
"He was stubborn though," Zoisite added with a chuckle.
"He still is." Nephrite snorted, absently pulling a weed from between the cobbled walk.
"I still am what?" Endymion interrupted, face weary from his father's lecture.
"Stubborn," Kunzite said, and Endymion shrugged; they weren't wrong.
"Like a mule," Jadeite joked.
Endymion cocked his brow, and shook his finger. "I could have you flogged for that."
"But you won't," Jadeite replied, accustomed to the Prince's idle threats.
"True, I wouldn't want to lose my best babysitter." Endymion winked, and heat seared up Jadeite's neck, curling at his ears.
"This is why you never tell women anything," Jadeite mumbled, instantly regretting spouting off to Serenity's guardians about the horrors of being a glorified babysitter.
The first couple days of sparring practice were rough, and desperate to pawn off at least one night of guard duty Jadeite had resorted to creating bets over anything that crossed his mind. When the chef had presented them a questionable pie, he convinced Zoisite to a guessing race of who could figure out the flavour first.
With the winning guess of rhubarb, Jadeite was relieved of his duties for the night, and Zoisite found himself pacing the hallway. Beads of sweat dotted his brow, and he squeezed his chin in thought. He feigned calm when servants passed, frantic steps pausing only until they were out of sight. He released a small sigh of relief upon seeing Kunzite stride down the corridor.
"Kunzite," he called, ushering him over with a wave of his hand.
He pulled his comrade aside, voice lowered and eyes watching for eavesdroppers. "It's getting out of hand," he said, teeth clenched. "He's brought her to the palace."
Kunzite's face paled, and his jaw tensed. He had told Endymion to keep his affair with the Moon girl outside the palace grounds. "Did anyone notice?" For weeks there had been whispers of the prince's betrayal; choosing the Moon Princess over one of his own, and it caused stir in the kingdom's underbelly. The last thing they needed was proof.
Zoisite swallowed the lump his throat, and nodded. He had seen a few servants with lingering stares lurking in shadows.
"We have to tell him."
They wanted to hate Serenity – well aware of the distraction she brought and turmoil she would cause. They wanted to forbid the Prince from seeing her, to run to the King and confess. But they couldn't. They saw how she affected him; he smiled and laughed, and the weight of responsibility seemed more manageable when she was around. His mind was clearer, and he no longer rushed ahead with hopeless abandon. Endymion was happy.
Kunzite knocked at he Prince's chamber door. "Sire," he said, ear pressed against the wood listening for a reply. "Endymion." When he received no answer, he turned the knob, his entrance accompanied by a loud creak.
Endymion leapt to his feet, and Serenity pulled a blanket to her chin, eyes wide with surprise.
"This better be –"
"We have to get the Princess out of here," Kunzite interrupted, lips pressed together as he straightened his back.
"What?" Endymion asked, cheeks crinkling and mouth agape.
"It's not safe,"Kunzite insisted, and Endymion knew from the piercing look in his eyes that now was not the time for questions.
"Trust us." Zoisite's fingers flinched at his side, the urgency clear on his face; he had always been horrible at hiding his emotions. Endymion turned and nodded at Serenity. "We won't let anything happen to her."
"I know."
Kunzite placed a heavy hand on the Prince's shoulder; a silent promise that spoke more than words ever could.
The world changed in the next few days. Black clouds cast a permanent darkness across the land, and the air hung thick with the scent of sulphur. No one knew what had caused this evil to rise. Some thought the gods came seeking retribution, while others blamed it on sorcery and witchcraft. A small band of rebels declared it was Endymion's association with the Moon.
People ran, seeking refuge in barns and cellars, peeking through cracks and holes to watch the massacre that spilled through their villages and towns. Those left on the streets became possessed, eyes glowing red, and limbs moving of their own accord. They followed their faceless leader, as it climbed in a cloud of smoke towards the sky – towards the silver Kingdom of the Moon. Despite their fervent efforts, the soldiers of earth were no match for the enemy's army.
Endymion and his four royal guards stood on a balcony, witnessing the chaos devouring their home. But as the darkness rose, the Prince's priorities shifted; he had to save her.
"I know this isn't what you signed up for," Endymion said, breaking the silence, and scoffing at his own choice of words. As children these men were not given a choice – they were forced into servitude for being the best. "I understand if you choose to remain on Earth. Your vows didn't quite cover the Moon," he joked, but no one laughed.
Jadeite was the first to speak, jaw determined, and face filled with fire. "Screw the vows." He stepped forward, making his choice clear.
"We fight with you," Nephrite said, moving to Jadeite's side.
"Wherever that fight may be," Zoisite agreed.
Kunzite nodded, and extended his hand. Endymion accepted with tears welling in his eyes, understanding possibly for the first time in his life that these men were more than soldiers, more than guards.
The following night they rode into battle, armour polished and swords raised. They knew the odds were against them, yet they pushed on, through the clouds of smoke and the stench of death, right by Endymion's side.
One by one they fought, and fell; blood spilled, and bodies numb with pain. Endymion wretched, his loss fueling him forward with a futile hope for vengeance. He was grateful they didn't see him lose; that they didn't see how he had failed them. And as the sword plunged into his chest he prayed that they had finally found peace.