Fushigi Yuugi Fan Fiction ❯ Life in the Imperial Court ❯ Fidelity ( Chapter 2 )

Another Houki oneshot! This is set post Oni and pre Eikoden, when Boushin is four years old. I thought to myself, what are a widow's thoughts and fears again? Well not being loved again came up, but guilt for wanting to love came up also. These are some thoughts I had for our young Empress.

 

Many thanks to Renee Asuncion for putting my other Houki one shot on her Hotohori and Houki listing. I hope this finds its way there as well!

 

Disclaimer: Penpaninu does not claim to own Fushigi Yuugi, series or OVA or manga, or the characters of Houki, Boushin and the Prime Minister (who had been established in the ova series). Does claim to own the character of Shuntaka though.

 

“Fidelity”

by penpaninu

 

Long silky strands of brown hair falling over her neck. Strong hands cradled over her waist and a deep timbre resonated in a graceful throat. Often a symbol would flare on that smooth column of flesh indicating passion, love or arousal. Houki smiled and turned in her sleep to reach for the one she loved so much.

 

“Houki….”

 

Her hands hit only covers. Where was he? Where was Heika?

 

“Houki-sama,” a feminine voice sounded from the foot of the bed. “It is time to rise for the day.”

 

Empress Houki opened her eyes, blinking as waking reality showed an empty bed bereft of Heiki-sama. When she lay in it at night, determined to rest for a new day to serve the empire, she did not let thoughts of how wide the bed was for herself alone, unless dreams of her husband leaked into her subconscious.

 

“Thank you,” Houki murmured and pulled back the covers, letting her maids tuck her sleeping robe more securely around her shivering form. She was led to the vanity where the morning routine entailed a thorough brushing of her long purple hair, and touch up of her flawlessly beautiful face. She would then stand and let her faithful maids dress her accordingly in the robes due her station, and slide slippers onto her graceful feet.

 

Beauty and grace, all terms used to describe Heika-sama. That she would show these longed for traits made some believe this was the only reason the fourth Emperor chose this courtesan for his Empress.

 

Houki remembered a rainy night, late in the short hours of the evening, daring to come close to a grieving Emperor. His hair had been loose, spilling over the back of his robes in undulating strands. His eyes had been as wet as the courtyards as he stared out at the rain filled night. She had watched him from around a column, heart thundering in her breast. She had thought the image of the far off Emperor through screens and across a throne room regal and handsome enough, but this was far more real to her.

 

Heika had been hurting. The news of Master Tamahome returning to his celestial brothers had run through the harem and staff like wildfire. His Highness had fought Tamahome while he was under an evil spell to kill their Suzaku no Miko! He had dared raise a sword to his Highness! And his Highness did what he had to, while the fearless Miko had healed his heart and taken the blinders from his spell-induced eyes.

The summoning for Suzaku could only come soon, maybe even tomorrow or the next day! Master Tamahome had returned.

 

But Heiki had been hurting. Houki watched, one small fist pressed against her the front of her robes as she dared not intrude upon the figure of their nation even bereaved by the night's events. She must have made some small sound because Heika had turned in her direction, his eyes open in pain. Their eyes met for one moment, the courtesan caught spying, the Emperor watching her fright.

 

And Houki had run off, fearful of what Heika would do that she had seen his tears.

 

Houki sighed at the memory as her maids knelt, tucking her robes around her form expertly. She shouldn't have feared Heika's generous heart. He had visited the harem his first and only time the next day. And when his eyes saw hers, he knew who his spy had been. And he had courted her, disbanding the harem altogether.

 

“Mama! Mama!” a childish voice called. Servants implored quietly as they chased after the four-year old boy. Houki turned, in all of her finery, a wide smile spread across her face as her son stopped at her feet, hugging her robed legs.

 

“Boushin-sama!” one servant pleaded, on his knees, trying to extract the heir apparent from clutching the Empress. “My apologies, Empress Houki! He wanted to see you and ran the whole way here….”

 

Houki laughed richly and sank to her knees, robes spreading around her in a wide arch, holding her boy in her arms. Boushin wrapped his arms around his mother's neck and babbled excitedly about his morning's events.

 

“He, uhm, began his sword fighting technique,” another of Boushin's attendants offered, at attention. Houki beamed and kissed her son.

 

“Continue with your lessons, Boushin. I will join you for meal time shortly,” the words were imperial, but the smiles were a mother's for her son. Boushin beamed and nodded, sliding down to his slippered feet and lumbering out of her chambers, his attendants following.

 

“He is ever the image of his Eminence at that age!” one of her personal maids commented and Houki blushed, pleased at the compliment.

 

“Boushin knows his manners, though you can't stop him from being a boy,” an elderly maid nodded sagely.

 

“Or from hugging his beloved mother,” the youngest maid commented, giggling. Houki stood, and swept her train behind her, ready for another day of Konan's politics and treaties.

 

One small glance behind her in her chambers rested upon the wide low bed she once shared with another. Houki sighed and continued on with her maids.

 

* * * *

 

“How is that new attendant doing for Boushin-sama?” the Prime Minister inquired gently after break for the morning meal. Houki sipped her tea quietly, eyes lowered.

 

“Shuntaka? He is doing well enough,” the elderly maid suggested over Houki's shoulder.

 

“He is young…. he is dedicated, and he was so embarrassed my son came right into my chambers without his leave this morning,” Houki murmured. Her maids giggled, remembering the event and the Prime Minister laughed heartily.

 

“He seems loyal enough, my Empress. He will learn all the aspects of his position quickly,” the Prime Minister added.

 

“He is loyal…” Houki reflected.

 

Each day, her encounter with the earnest young man put thoughts into her head pointing to disloyalty. His eyes were wide and open. His smile was ready and easy. His dedication to her son was absolute, and his position as his personal attendant put him close to the Empress at times as well.

 

He was so young….and so available. A Dowager Empress was available in the term as well, widowed and watching the nation for her son until he came of age.

 

Continual dreams of Heika spread guilt through Houki whenever she thought of the young man. She had loved a lifetime with her Emperor in the short time they were joined in the bonds of matrimony. Which was why his sudden death had hurt all the more. She had felt so much for him, and was left alone. Blessed with a son by him, she was still bereft of all of his affections and she missed him terribly.

 

Those dreams had to mean something however. She felt guilty for watching Shuntaka's broad shoulders flex beneath his robes when he leaned down to pick up Boushin. Heika had to have hurt if he watched her now. Old ties of marriage meant a woman gave herself to her husband even in death. She would be loyal.

 

But if the Suzaku no Miko were here, she would have said to live in the moment. They all missed Hotohori, but she needed to live as well. If not for herself, then for her son.

 

These tumultuous thoughts spread through Houki's mind one night as Boushin nodded off with his head on her knee early one evening. She ran a hand through her boy's soft brown hair, smiling at his easy sighs in his sleep.

 

“Empress, I can take him….” Shuntaka murmured, standing at her side. Houki looked up, her eyes taking him in. Though she was seated, he would of course be taller. But she knew if she stood up now, she would come only to the top of his chest. He smiled down at her, hands folded politely before his waist waiting her answer.

 

Houki smiled and picked her son up in her arms. “Yes, you may, Shuntaka…thank you.”

 

They passed Boushin easily between them, and in the moment they paused, the heir locked in Shuntaka's arms. Their eyes met, vulnerable and open, no longer Empress and servant. Man and Woman took each other in. Then the moment passed as quickly as blinking.

 

“Thank you, Shuntaka, that will do,” she offered the easy way out. Shuntaka bowed his head, cradling Boushin against his shoulder.

 

“Of course, Empress…thank you,” he murmured throatily. For what, she did not know, though perhaps she did.

 

Houki invited her maids back in and allowed them to disrobe her for the night. She brushed her hair herself, dismissing them, and knelt down in front of the small altar she had made for Heika. She lit two sticks of incense, standing them before the stone enscribed with Heika's full celestial name. She knelt carefully, clasped her hands and prayed.

 

“Husband….I miss you so much. Every day, I could almost forget you more and more. But I couldn't as Boushin is your very image. I miss being held by you, and seeing you each moment. I still love you so much….”

 

High above the heavens seated by Suzaku's shoulder, constellation star Suzaku no Schiseishi Hotohori winked restlessly and the Phoenix God of Fire and Love hummed contently to himself.

Far below across the Konan lands, a young boy with brown hair and hazel eyes prayed before the graves of those who had passed in his village before his family came to live after the Kutou war. The local rumor held one of those graves as the Suzaku King, a young nobleman who had lived at that village in hiding, and who bore the Phoenix mark on his neck. Though not a celestial star's symbol, it was still sacred.

 

And the boy, having the same family name as the Suzaku King, felt it his duty to pray for his spirit's rebirth. He could not shake these deep feelings of obligation, or heartache he sometimes felt. He missed somebody horribly, and he didn't know why.

 

He would pray for the Suzaku King no matter where he had gone.

 

As his prayers wound across the land, Crown Prince Boushin shifted in his sleep, smiling.

 

End

I have a few notes here. This is obviously set pre Eikoden ova, and some thoughts for Houki and Boushin before the book is reopened for the series.

Upon showing the Eikoden series to my Brother in law and sister, Aniki had a great insight that Boushin would house the spirit of Hotohori's older brother, Tendou. He was killed in that flashback, shortly before Houki became pregnant. And then, in this way, he would “get the throne”!

And obviously Houki's prayers reached the young boy her husband was reborn into, living at Tendou's old village. For the life of me, I can't remember his reincarnated name as I lent Eikoden to a friend. Prayers beget prayers I guess.

But there you have it. I had this on my mind a few days now and had the time to express my thoughts for it. Most widowed women feel the need to feel alive again sooner or later, though Houki is guilty for it. Who knows? Maybe she'll know no guilt in seeking Shuntaka out.

 

Sincerely yours, penpaninu 10/08/05