Fruits Basket Fan Fiction ❯ Force of Destiny ❯ Once Upon A Time ( Chapter 10 )
Disclaimer: I don't own Fruits Basket, I just keep them in a cupboard and show them off to my friends.
Chapter 10: 'Once Upon A Time'
"So, let's forget," she flashes a look at me from beneath her lashes, clearly surprised at my suddenly light tone, "if just for tonight. Tomorrow is soon enough to deal with everything else. Tonight, I just want to know all about you." I smile encouragingly at her and rest my hands gently on her shoulders, hoping to ease some of the tension knotting her delicate frame.
After a moment of silence, her shoulders relax a little under my light touch. She flashes a brilliant smile at me, silently agreeing to my temporary offer of distraction.
"Only if you return the favor."
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I feel my heart melt at the gentle concern in his eyes. He understands what I am talking about, who I fear. I have never feared anyone or anything as much as I fear that demon. Since the moment I came to the Souma house, he has made certain not a moment goes by that I am not aware of his presence, or his absolute power. He delights in filling my mind with the dark, twisted details of how he 'loves' and 'protects' his children. Oh, yes, I know who Yuki is, and my heart cries for the torture he has endured. Akito's favorite plaything, though I was not allowed to meet him before. Only the handsome, stoic doctor was permitted to approach me, his wrenching heartbreak waved before me like a sadistic banner, a reminder of what the warped family head is truly capable of.
I am also aware that the order to test my abilities on the lonely man was part of a further plot to torture him. Give him the one thing he has never had, even with his lost love: Simple human contact. The catch, of course, is it is with another woman whom he is not to have, and cannot save. I say 'cannot', because I truly believe he would, if not for the mysterious power Akito has over the Juunishis' souls. I don't really begin to understand it, and no one is likely to explain it to me in detail. So much pain caused by one frail man, and yet with Yuki, I can forget, ever so briefly, the black despair that claws at my resolve never to bow to the threats of the demon, never to break.
A small stab of guilt brings tears to my eyes, but I blink them back. I can't help but think I don't have a right to be enjoying the company of a gorgeous man when the one I love is in danger...it smacks of profound selfishness and deep betrayal. On the other hand, Yuki has a point; worrying about Akito tonight will not solve anything tomorrow. I will come up with a new plan of attack when I know more about how the unbalanced, and unpredictable, family head intends to treat my aborted escape attempt. Right now, though, I want to know everything I can about the man who so tenderly held me to him as he trembled in awe of a simple touch. I need to validate my completely illogical and impulsive feelings for him by showing him who and what I am. Only if he accepts my unique, um,abilities, will I be able to fully trust him as an ally. Only by his reaction to the truth of my nature will I be able to determine if I should proceed to untangle the volatile knot of emotions he stirs within me, or write them off as a result of adrenaline overload. Creating space between us is essential; I've allowed him too close, too quickly. Experience has taught me that is a recipe for disaster.
Reluctantly pulling away from him, I settle myself on the tatami floor, close to one of the lamps, and look up at him expectantly. After a moment, he shakes himself a bit and sinks gracefully down opposite me.
"So," I begin, trying to match his light tone from before, "where should I start?"
He tilts his head a little to the side and purses his lips a bit, contemplating the best way to get at the most essential information. It is frightening how I can see the gears turning in his mind-a talent I wish I could develop in regards to Akito. He glances at me from the corner of his eye, and takes a breath. I can tell he's decided something. I feel a bit apprehensive.
"Why can you hold me?" clearly, he has chosen the direct approach.
"How is it that you can..." he seems slightly uncomfortable finishing his thought, "touch me, and I don't..." his voice trails off, but I know he wants to say 'transform'. My heart aches again for these souls cursed to live a life constant with the fear of discovery. I know where they are coming from.
After a moment of thought, I decide the best approach to take. My insides are in knots, but I need to tell him as much as he needs to know.
"Let me tell you a story." I begin softly. Unable to look him in the eye, I let my gaze settle onto his pale hands, lean and elegant against the rich backdrop of fabric covering his legs. The sight is briefly distracting, and I shake my head a little before taking a deep breath and launching into my tale.
"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful young maiden, only child of a high-ranking nobleman in a small, long-forgotten kingdom. She was simply called the Swan Girl, because she loved to feed the graceful birds kept at the palace every day, and because of her resemblance to the exquisite creatures. She was lithe and graceful, her skin was as white and soft as swan down, with rosy lips always turned up in a smile. Her hair was like sunlight, and her eyes were blue as the sky on a summer day. She was beloved by all, for she was a kind, generous soul who never failed to give any comfort she could to others. As you may expect, she had more than her fair share of suitors, but her heart belonged to her only love and childhood friend. You see, her love was the Prince of the kingdom, and the two intended to marry and live happily ever after.
"Perhaps they would have, if not for the powerful and greedy king of a neighboring realm. His only desire was to gain more power, and more gold, and failing that, more land. So he set his sights on the tiny but prosperous principality, intending to leech their modest coffers dry, then seize the land for his own when they were no longer able to put up a defense.
"The crafty king sent messengers to the Prince's court announcing his intention to visit and seal a treaty securing his generous 'protection' of the peace between their lands. A tribute would, of course, be expected. It was a thinly-veiled ultimatum, and the Prince's court knew it: Accept the terms and pay him tribute, or he would wage war on the peaceful country. With no other choice but to accede to the powerful ruler's request, they prepared to welcome their visitors.
"One the appointed day, the entourage of the acquisitive king arrived. His was a rich-looking retinue: the warrior king in his bright armor, his well-fed advisors, squires, servants, etcetera. And, there was a mysterious, peculiarly dressed man. He wore brightly colored robes of embroidered silk, cut in a foreign design, and had his long, straight black hair tied into a queue at the base of his neck. His penetrating black eyes appeared to notice every detail of his surroundings, but his austere features never revealed a hint of what went on behind his eyes. Rumors gained from the group's servants placed him as a sorcerer from the fabled lands of the Far East, and he served the king faithfully as repayment of a life debt. Everyone avoided contact with him, if possible, as they feared having his arcane magic worked on them.
"After many days at the palace, talks were not proceeding well, but were in danger of collapsing. The visiting king wanted gold, jewels, silks, and grain to induce him to stop his advance, things the modest country could not afford. The group decided to break off negotiations for a day, to let tempers settle. On the morning of the hiatus, the king decided to tour the castle grounds, and wandered through the gardens to the orchard. There, he heard someone singing, the sound so sweet and pure, he was drawn to it as if a magic spell had been cast upon him. Drifting through the tall grasses and blooming trees, he finally stopped when he reached a small clearing with a pond in the middle. Sitting at the base of a tree, was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. The sun filtered through the leaves and dappled her in splashes of light, turning her unbound hair to molten gold. She was watching the swans glide across the water to her, tossing bits of bread onto the serene surface.
"Covetous desire raged through the foreign king, and he knew he needed to possess her. He felt his life would be forever incomplete without her beauty gracing his hall. Approaching her quietly, so as not to disturb her, he continued to watch her feed the swans. When her song ended, she began speaking to them softly, her silly words to the beautiful birds drifting on the breeze to his waiting ears. Unable to break away from her, lost in the golden radiance of her hair, the brightness of her smile, the sweet clarity of her voice, he stayed until the sun was high in the sky, then retreated, pondering how he could gain her hand. The king had never felt before as he felt upon seeing her; her serenity and beauty calmed his avaricious soul and touched his conqueror's heart. In his own dark, obsessed way, he fell in love with her. He resolved to find out who she was, and take her to wife, and he knew just how he would assure it happened.
"The next day, negotiations resumed. Before anyone could speak, though, the visiting royal stood up to make a pronouncement
" 'I propose to settle our disagreement,' he began 'by uniting our two lands through a peaceful alliance.' The nobility in the room murmured in excitement. This was a change from a few days ago, when the grasping king demanded an extraordinary sum in tribute to secure the peace. 'I will halt my advance on your borders, rescind my request for tribute, and pledge my aid to you should you suffer threat from another source. Already, I have had a treaty with my generous provisions written,' he produced a parchment bedecked with ribbons and his royal seal. 'I only ask one thing: the hand of the most beautiful maiden in your kingdom.'
" 'We have many beautiful maids in our humble land. I will immediately send for all eligible beauties to assemble here at the palace so you may select your bride to be.' the Prince told the king, not knowing the visiting royal had a woman in mind--his own bride.
"The king shook his head and said, 'There is no need for that, my friend, as I have already found my love, though I do not know her name.' there were startled murmurs from around the room, all within wondering who had caught the king's eye. She could save their people from war!
" 'Please, Your Majesty, tell us who the woman is, and I will summon her before you in a trice.' declared the Prince.
" 'It is the girl who feeds the swans in the apple orchard. I will have her, and no other. She will be my queen, and our union will bind our two kingdoms in peace!'
"The room erupted in a cacophony of exclamations, as all knew the Swan Girl to be the Prince's betrothed. Nevertheless, they were on the threshold of war, and she could deliver them all, securing peace for the land. The visiting king was confounded by the eruption around him, not realizing what he had demand. So he sat quietly, and waited. After a few minutes of excited babbling, the room quieted, and all faces turned to the distraught and duty-bound Prince.
"The Prince felt the terrible weight of the decision resting on his shoulders, but knew what the most beneficent choice would be. The right choice. As much as he loved his Swan Girl, and wished for a happy life with her more than anything, he wouldn't exchange the security of his people for his own selfish needs. With a heavy heart, he called for his truelove to be brought before him.
"When the maiden arrived, she looked questioningly to her beloved, uncertain why she had been called to this august assembly. After curtsying prettily, the Prince took her hand and led her before the visiting king. When she was presented, she made deep obeisance before the dazzled man, murmuring, 'Your Majesty'. The king took her hand to raise her himself, but did not release her. He looked pointedly at the Prince, who cleared his throat awkwardly, then addressed the innocent maiden.
" 'A great honor has been bestowed upon you, my lady. To seal the peace between our two lands, His Majesty has graciously proposed to pledge his support to our poor kingdom, and withdraw his armies from our borders.' The Swan Girl's face lit up with happiness, believing her beloved prince had successfully settled matters, thus protecting her people. The look in her eyes shattered the Prince's heart, but for the good of his people, he plunged ahead. 'His Majesty has agreed to do all of this, but means to secure the alliance with a bond of marriage,' he paused, and his courage almost failed him. His beloved's eyes darted between the two royal men, smile fading as the horrible, inevitable conclusion dawned on her. She began to shake her head, even as the terrible words pitched forth from her love's lips, 'to you, my lady.'
"Ignoring the maid's tears, spilling over her eyes and down her cheeks, the king lifted her cold hand to his lips and pressed an intimate kiss to the palm. He gripped it firmly when she tried to pull away in denial, evoking a gasp of pain from her pale lips. He didn't care--she belonged to him now, and he would never let her go, never give her to another.
" 'I am certain I will make you immensely happy, my lady,' he said with suave confidence, not comprehending her reluctance. He was a king! A handsome, rich man, sought after by women in every court in the land. His cold heart did not understand true love, only possession, so his bride's tears were foreign to him. 'I will shower you with gold and jewels, you will never want for any comfort. You will be chatelaine to my palace, bear my heirs, and be accorded every honor and privilege as my queen.' Surely this would stop her tears. He looked expectantly at her, and when she raised her tear-washed eyes to his, he was astounded at the misery shimmering in the azure depths.
" 'I apologize, Your Majesty, for my tears. I am honored to be chosen by you.' her voice broke and her bottom lip trembled with emotion. Then she took a deep breath, her delicate features firming with determination, and stated, 'But know this: though I consent to be your wife for the good of my people, I cannot ever love you. My heart has, and always will, belong to my beloved, my Prince.' With that, she pulled her fingers from the king's now lax hold, dipped gracefully, and fled the silent room.
"The king recovered himself and stalked toward the door, feeling a towering rage building in his chest. He turned to face the Prince, 'She will love me, you willforce her to love me, or I will rain curses and pain down upon the heads of every man, woman, and child in this pitiable land!' Then he was gone, nothing but a brittle silence in his wake."
I break off the tale here, as I can feel my chest tightening with familiar despair. I loathe this next part of the story; it never fails to make be smolder with anger at the absolute, universal, unfairness of it all. Even though it is an ancient tale, it holds a very personal sway over my life.
Tears prick the backs of my eyes, and I squeeze them shut to stem their advance. I hear Yuki shift uncomfortably at my prolonged muteness, and I pray he doesn't attempt to touch me. I don't think I would be able to hold back the guilt and tears if he does. Thankfully, he only seems to be settling into a more comfortable position, and I take a deep, fortifying breath before opening my eyes to resume the tale. Just to be safe, though, I hold my gaze to his hands.
"As you know, you can't force someone to love you, but the ruthless king did not realize this. In his self-centered desire to possess the glorious beauty, he failed to recognize that one truth. It wasn't enough for him to have her hand, he demanded her heart, as well. He desired to keep her, like a beautiful bird in a cage. And so, in a craze he set out to find the maiden who had consented to be his wife, but not his love. He found her by the swans once more, weeping softly into her hands. The king's heart twisted in his chest, engulfed in his own sense of betrayal. He loved her, had offered her the protection of his name, his sword, had extended that protection to her people. The least he deserved was her love in exchange! But her sobs continued, and he heard her whisper brokenly, 'My love, my beloved, my Prince...'
"White hot pain flashed through the king, and transformed into a furious ache such as he had never experienced before. Sightless with agony and anger, the man stalked through the palace to his chambers, calling for his eccentric advisor as he passed through the rooms to his inner chamber. The exotic man appeared at his liege lord's side, as if conjured from thin air, patiently awaiting what would be asked of him.
" 'I have been insulted in the gravest manner, beyond all point of recompense. Only when I am grinding my heel into the ashes of this scorched land will I feel the beginnings of satisfaction.' the king growled, all humanity wiped from his countenance by the flames of his rage. 'Redress will only be complete when that insolent wench,' he spat out the offensive appellation as if it were a bitter taste in his mouth, 'has paid dearly. I swore they would all be cursed if they refused my generous offer of peace, and so they shall be. Beginning with the Swan Girl!' He was panting, spittle flecking the corner of his lips, eyes glazed and dilated. He swung the burning gaze to his vassal, a sneer pulling his thin, elegant lips away from his teeth in a fierce snarl.
" 'See to it she pays. I want her to suffer! I want her daughters to suffer, and their daughters, and their daughters! If she denies me her love, then she will never have the love of any man!'
"The sorcerer gazed sorrowfully at his master for a moment, then murmured, 'This will repay my debt'. He briefly bowed in acquiescence, long dark hair falling over his shoulder gracefully, and was gone in a flutter of fine silk and the scent of sandalwood. The king allowed himself a tight smile of satisfaction. He knew his man would not disappoint, and the punishing possibilities he could inflict roared through his mind in a battle cry of triumph. They would all pay. She would pay.
"And so they did pay. The bloodthirsty king lived up to his threats, and the small kingdom was catapulted into a devastating war. The prince died on the battlefield, trying to rally his troops in one last, valiant attempt to defend his people. The conqueror indeed ruthlessly ground the overrun people under his heel, and the land was burned to ashes. It took many generations to recover. No one learned what became of the prince's love, the marauding king's tragically cursed betrothed, the Swan Girl. Only the sorcerer knew her fate, but he vanished immediately after he allegedly cast the curse. Time marched on, and people forgot what befell a small country, and a love-lost maiden. No reunited lovers, no tears of joy, no 'happily ever after'."
I'm shaking a little now, my fingers twisting in my lap in distress. A wave of hopelessness swells in my chest, threatening to engulf me in mindless sorrow.'This will not solve anything!' I berate myself, ruthlessly battling the tide. Suddenly I feel hollowed out, empty of everything, the expectations of generations bowing my shoulders. I've never told the story before, and I did not realize how much it would drain me. I can feel Yuki across from me, fairly vibrating with curiosity and confusion, wondering what the point of the story was, and if it is over.
'It's never over.' I laugh cynically to myself, a sharp burst of harsh, grating sound.
" 'The End'," I whisper sardonically, staring at my hands still, and observing blankly as hot drops of salty tears fall onto the clenched, entwined fingers. Splash. Splash. Abruptly, I feel Yuki's strong arms circle my shoulders, pulling me to him gently, his hands brushing over my hair in pacifying caresses as he murmurs soothing nonsense. I bury the top of my head against his chest and let the tears fall freely. He hasn't even heard the worst part of the story. I don't know if I can bear to tell anyone. Somewhere in my heart, I know that he, of all people, will understand, but lifetimes of hiding the truth is difficult to overcome.
Slowly, my tears ebb. He continues his gentle noises and caresses, lulling me into a fog of blank, blissful solace. I don't know how long we have been here like this; perhaps hours, perhaps a few minutes, but I do not want him to release me just yet. That would mean facing his unavoidable questions, and I am afraid of his response to an explanation of my nature. All the same, I feel he deserves to know. He allowed me close to him, risking his secret shame to explore the enticement of touch. Furthermore, if I can discover more about the Souma curse, then maybe I can finally acquire a lead to the solution I so desperately seek.
With new resolve, I lift my head to meet his eyes. His soft violet gaze takes my breath, and I duck my head back down, acutely aware of our close proximity. In growing mortification, vivid flashes of the ardent kiss we shared rise in my mind. My cheeks are so hot, I feel like I'll burst into flame. 'This is not helping,'squeaks my inner voice. 'You said it,' I return, for once in complete agreement with myself.
Knuckle grazing under my chin, Yuki gently tips my head back up to meet his regard. 'He's not going to let me off the hook, I guess,' Like I want to be. 'Stop it!' I slap myself mentally. Need to get a grip, get back to the business at hand. I have responsibilities, people who depend on me. This is like a bucket of ice water, dousing the flames in my cheeks and jerking me back to the issues at hand. Now is not time, or place, for romance. 'Damn it.' I really hate that voice.
Yuki continues to look into my eyes, smooth brow creased, searching my face for...something, I don't know what. After a wordless moment or two, he seems to discover whatever he wanted, for he just nods his head once, brow clearing and shoulders relaxing. He doesn't release my chin, though, so I pull gently away and take his hand in mine. I'm unwilling to give up all the comfort he offers.
I bestow a small, almost tentative smile on him and squeeze his hand to let him know I'm alright. He smiles in return, transforming his face to something even more ethereally handsome. My heart skips a beat. His next question, however, causes me to skip a breath.
"Are you the Swan Girl?"
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Yay, I got this chapter up a lot sooner than I expected! I think I have a good handle on how this is going to develop. Thanks to R Junkie for the ideas, they helped a lot! Kuso Nezumi, glad to know someone out there will wait for my inspiration--I'm getting pretty impatient, myself. But, never fear, with you all cheering me on, I feel it coming back!
I promised myself I wouldn't beg for reviews, but: Reviews inspire me!
Tsukitani