Fushigi Yuugi Fan Fiction ❯ Life in the Imperial Court ❯ Through a Servant's Eyes ( Chapter 4 )

This character turned out to have more of a lasting impression than I thought he would! He was supposed to be just a named npc in the background for Houki to relate to. Then that took off running, leaving my fingers flying over the keyboard. Houki needs someone to make her feel like a woman, I believe she is a lonely widow. She can learn to love again I think.

 

I fully apologize for using Yash as a name for one of the servants. I am seriously lacking in knowledge of traditional Chinese names. Please don't hurt me for that one!

 

Once again, full kudos to KittyLynne for her support, inspirational emails and kind words. She also happens to be Shuntaka's number one fan. This deeply flatters me as he came out of my head!

In a world where I strive to inspire others (and have succeeded to inspire others), it is a rarity where I myself will find something to be inspired by. Miss Lynne, my hat goes off to you.

 

Disclaimer: Penpaninu does not claim to own the characters of Hotohori, Houki, the Prime Minister or anything else related to Fushigi Yuugi. Does claim however to see the Mysterious Play in life.

Shuntaka did however crawl out of my head. He had a story he demanded I write.

 

Through a Servant's Eyes

By penpaninu

 

I wake each morning before dawn, and prepare for the new day accordingly. His Supreme Highness will still be asleep momentarily, and I have my own personal obligations to keep that come second to my Crown Prince. However, I manage to squeeze a few moments in each day for them.

 

Putting Yash in charge of waiting outside of Boushin-sama's bedchambers lest he wake early, I go with the other attendants of his Highness to exercise quickly and lightly in the nearby courtyard. Though the temperature is cool before the sun rises, we work through katas and stances of kung fu without our shirts to cover ourselves, our hair loosely braided and swaying with our movements. Then quickly, we run to douse our bodies into a waiting tub to scrape the sweat off, and redress to await his Highness' wakening.

 

Dressed in all of my attendant's finery, my light brown hair pinned up in a severe knot, I prepare Boushin's morning tea. He will eat the morning meal after his swordplay lessons with General Yu, but he does need some substance before he moves his body in exercise. The five-year old boy sleeps tenderly and peacefully and at odd moments like these I am blessed to see our next Emperor holding court in his dreams, his face serene and happy.

Indeed I hold somewhat insane and treasonous thoughts when I see my Prince this way. He is such a beautiful child, articulate and well-mannered. What if he were my child? What if I had given my beloved Empress the gift of this boy? She would shower me with affection then, she would love me to her undying day.

 

Indeed, these thoughts are treasonous for his Highness, a Celestial Star himself, had the honor of having Houki-sama for his wife and filling her with his seed. Despite her ladyship's calm tone and endearing words for my ears alone, I know I could never measure up to the image of her late husband, the shining Star at Suzaku's shoulder. She had loved Heika-sama dearly, this is widely known. Their marriage had been one of mutual emotion, and I can only care for the aftermath of that joining with resolute responsibility.

 

Yet, my heart burns each time her eyes soften when seeing me, and my loins quicken when we both sit with his Highness late into the evening. We are constantly surrounded at almost all times, with her maids, her own attendants, as well as the four other men who help me with his Highness the Crown Prince. Then there is the supreme Prime Minister, my Empress' strong right hand in the court. As well as the courtiers that continually flank him as well. Far be it that her Highness and I are rarely alone. Only if I want the task to tuck in the prince and she happens to oversee me and push her maids away.

 

The first time I was alone with her beautiful ladyship, his Highness was gravely ill. My lady did not cry aloud, but her movements and eyes shook with grief. How she cared for his Highness day and night! She would have pushed us, his Highness' personal servants away completely if I had not proven my worth to care for him in such a dire moment. I did not sleep myself either, and together the Empress and I rolled up our sleeves to press herbs, pour medicinal tea from the doctor, take his Highness's temperature, and wash his Imperial Majesty's pale and shaking body.

Only I did she allow near Boushin at this time. And in her tired exhausted eyes, joy and relief shone when his Highness grew better and stronger. In me she placed supreme trust for her son and I gravely bowed to take the responsibility.

 

Yash and the other men answered to my commands now, but we were all brothers in our duty, so I did not abuse my authority. We all genuinely cared for the boy we knew would lead our country to further prosperity.

 

When my chest muscles flex in stance and exercise, and I tie up my long brown hair when I dress, I wonder what kind of man my Empress sees when she sees me. Does she only see the rank and station I hold, while high in the servant's rung, still lowly in the heavens? Or does she see me, the man who cares for her son and loves her?

 

I am no prize. I am forever in the shadow of his Highness, the fourth Emperor of Konan and Suzaku's favored. How tall Heika-sama was, everyone remembered. How strong, and skilled with a sword. His hair when unbound in private, cascaded to the floor. He was a godly being of protection and love that Suzaku sent to aide the Suzaku no Miko and to rule his country.

Suzaku no Schiseishi Star Hotohori. An august name indicating high destiny. And from what everyone remembered of Heika-sama, he had succeeded fate's position and ascended beyond what was called of him.

 

My brown hair is lank and long, sure, but barely reaches the small of my back when unbound. I practice kung fu with the other attendants of his Highness, but they are imitation stances as I have never had an official master. Only did I learn from my brothers and their friends. I am tall enough for a man, but so very thin I am. My mother used to poke my flat belly and call me “spritely thin.”

I've been told my face is comely enough, if the few girls I've tumbled in the city had any inclination to be believed.

 

Standing before my Empress is enough to make these small attributes feel shadowed, insignificant as I strive to please her. However, there are few moments….. few moments where I have cause to hope she sees me as a being who loves her and wants her love in return.

 

Boushin stirs and yawns, as Yash and I arrange his slippers and practice clothing.

 

“Good morning, Boushin-sama,” Yash and I say in unison and bow slightly as the boy sits up, regarding us with sleepy eyes. Boushin calmly smiles and holds his hands out for us to take him out of his bed and to dress him for his swordplay.

 

“I had a dream, Shuntaka,” Boushin says childishly, his eyes still far-seeing. I nod and bow to slide his slippers onto his feet.

 

“What of, my prince?” I ask quietly. Boushin grins at me, familiar with my presence. My heart clenches, that this child trusts me so.

 

“I dreamt of my father. He said he was watching over me always. He is, isn't he?” he asked brightly. My heart sank despite my good intentions. We believed destined souls were written to be reborn again and Heika-sama was far up on that rung. Perhaps his father was already reborn, waiting for destiny's hand again, or at least living one life in obscurity.

 

“He very well may be, Boushin-sama,” I said carefully, and Yash combed the prince's hair. “He would be very pleased, I think.”

 

Boushin's shining eyes told me I had said the right thing, despite what I felt and I was resigned to be responsible.

 

“General Yu is waiting surely, your Highness,” Yash suggested. One of our comrades darted in to pour Boushin-sama's tea and held the dish for his Highness to take the cup.

 

“Drink, first, Highness. You need your strength so early in the morning,” I suggested and could not help but note the parental tone in my voice. Boushin beamed at me and sipped trustingly.

 

His round cherub's face set in a determined expression and he stood tall, his head barely to my waist.

“I am ready, Shuntaka,” he declared. I bow and walk behind him to the courtyards.

 

* * * *

 

I accompanied his Highness to his various lessons throughout the day, and was rewarded with the task of informing the Empress Mother of her sons' break for meals so she may join him as she liked to do.

 

Yash I trusted most and had him watch Boushin-sama when I took the selfish privileges of seeing her Ladyship, even surrounded by her courtiers and maids. I always bow low on my knees and keep my eyes lowered til she bids I rise. She is not in the rank to thank me, yet she does. I can not stop the surge of emotion that she should bother to thank me, and this inspires my hopes she sees me other than her son's attendant.

 

Take this evening for example. The evening is cool, and Yash has stoked the fireplace high in his Highness' room. Our comrades have served his meal and prepare to take their own in our shared chamber near the Prince's.

Her Ladyship has surprised us yet again, as she surveys our nightly routine to turn his Highness into bed. Boushin hums, and swings his feet. Yash gently reprimanded him to please hold still while he combed his hair. Boushin howled that he didn't want his fine hair to be combed and Yash turns pleading eyes for my help.

 

I take the invitation and bow on one knee beside Boushin's chair. “Highness, if you don't have your hair combed, the spirits will surely sleep in it while you rest,” I suggested with a wry smile. Boushin gasps, his eyes wide in belief.

 

“Really? In my HAIR?” he gasps. I nod in mock seriousness.

“Oh yes, Boushin-sama! They'll roll over and nudge you and wake you yet!” I make scary noises and Boushin laughs, seeing the grin upon my face.

 

“You were joking, Shuntaka!” Boushin-sama laughs and I touch his brow with one large hand.

 

“Indeed I was, Highness, and I'm glad to see you smiling.” Yash took the drastic opportunity to comb Boushin-sama's hair to a semblance of order and tucked his sleeping robe tightly around him.

 

Boushin continued giggling and cried out when someone else stepped into his bedchamber. “Mama!”

 

I freeze in anticipation and turn to bow down low immediately. Yash bows over the top of Boushin's chair making the boy complain about him hitting the top of his head. The last attendants in the adjoining room scramble about and the sound of china scraping against our table sounds in our ears.

 

Empress Houki smiled kindly, her eyes soft. “Rise,” she commands and who am I to argue? I stand to my feet, hopelessly towering over her. It gives me the slightest masculine satisfaction that she must look up to meet my eyes, but I squash the treasonous thought.

 

“Your Eminence? Did you need something?” I ask as I turn to help Yash take Boushin-sama's hands. The boy is yawning heavily already and smiles sleepily over at his mother.

 

“I wanted to wish my son a good night's rest. And I was wondering if I may speak to you,” she commanded lowly. A shiver runs down my long spine and I stand at attention. Was I to be punished for my longing? Suzaku be merciful, I would not act upon them. By law, I belonged to her Eminence anyway. Did she have use of me before she would have my head?

 

“Of course, Empress Houki,” I whisper and bow low once more. Yash nods when meeting my eyes and he tucks Boushin in. I walk over on the opposite side of the bed and watch Boushin lean up for a kiss from his mother. She murmurs something soft meant for her son alone and Boushin's lips curve in a sweet smile.

I am wholly satisfied when my charge turns towards me, seeking me in the near darkness. “Shuntaka?” he asks for our nightly ritual silently.

 

I clasp Yash's shoulder as he passes me to join our comrades in their evening meal. They will save my portion surely. Then I kneel down and take Boushin's soft hand in mine.

 

“I will be just in the other room as always, my prince. Pleasant dreams, and may Suzaku bless you.” I murmur and squeeze the small round fingers in my grip gently. Boushin smiles brightly and fades away to sleep, his eyes fluttering closed. Soon he is breathing evenly and I let his fingers go.

 

I stand and move to walk behind her Eminence without command to a nearby sitting room. I am surprised when Houki-sama leads me to her personal sitting room, nearer the royal bedchambers.

I stand at attention, nervous for trespassing into a lady's personal room, and unknowing what was expected of me. Houki-sama bids I sit across from her and I collapse gratefully into a chair, yet remain poised on the edge as if I sat on a tack.

 

“Are you enjoying your position with my son, Shuntaka?” Houki-sama gracefully asks and I am slowly put to ease. We talk almost formally and quite generously and I can but believe I am a lord entertaining my ladyship. My heart certainly threatened to burst from the happiness she instilled in me.

 

And when Houki stood to stand before her fireplace, arms wrapped around herself for warmth, my heart ached so badly, I thought I would die from the sheer pain of the pleasure watching her gave me.

 

“My lady?” I ask. She was in the middle of telling me about Boushin's first year, before I came to be his attendant and she now gazed into Suzaku's natural element captive in the stones and wood.

 

“Shuntaka,” she says and I shiver at the tone she uses. Such trust….such….what is this emotion? I stand also and come close behind her, not daring to touch the robed figure before me.

 

“Houki-sama. What is it you want?” I whisper and I see her shoulders tense beneath her robes before me. I will not touch her. I will not betray my Empress. Yet, she turns and her eyes are shining with happy tears as she leans to hug my slim waist.

 

Indeed I am struck down by Suzaku's warmth, I am dead before she is done embracing me, yet I let her, my arms limp against my sides. If I touch her, my head belongs to her ministers. Yet, she is so warm and she seems to need me….

 

“Houki-sama?” I ask in wonderment. She looks up against my chest, tears in her eyes.

 

“Oh, Shuntaka…you really shouldn't be so hard on yourself. You don't have to try so hard around me when we're like this…” her words are those of a woman's wanting a man and I swallow audibly. My destiny is not to receive the love I wanted. I was not Suzaku's favored.

 

And suddenly I misinterpret her words. Was she referring to my insecurities concerning her late husband? Suddenly cold jealousy claws through my insides. I harden my eyes sadly and shake my head.

 

“Houki-sama. I am not your husband,” I evenly ground out. Her eyes widen and her face flushes in embarrassment or hurt, I dare not know what to think. Was she comparing me to him? Suzaku's favored and her Emperor? While perhaps I should have felt flattered she thought of comparing me to his Supreme Highness, I could not rate even to his sizeable boots.

 

“I know, Shuntaka,” she whispered and turns from me. I am immediately cold and my chest aches as she gathers her composure. Her poise straightens and her gait is regal.

 

I stammer her name as her eyes meet mine regally.

 

“Thank you for serving our country well, Shuntaka. We are grateful to your dedication to our son,” she whispers and my heart seizes at the distance of title.

 

I kneel and take her hand, bowing low. I know of no other way to show my dedication to her. Houki-sama looks at me, her eyes open and hurt. I stand and press her hand to my heart through the layers of cotton and silk.

 

“My Empress… I can only try to show you, this is how I feel….” I whisper. My words make her stance relax and she smiles her old smile at me once again. “If I try too hard, it's because I do not want to step over my boundaries….”

 

Her Highness smiles and touches my jaw. My face explodes in warmth. “When we are like this…it is never a boundary to be stepped upon,” she whispers, tracing my jawline.

 

I stand and bow at the waist as we begin to bid each other a good evening. I turn to leave her private sitting room when her delicate hand upon my sleeve stops me.

 

When I turn, her face is turned up to mine. I stare until her lips press against mine.

 

I am her son's servant in all things. But this moment, was mine alone. I enfold my empress in my arms, her hair pins falling to the ground under my clumsy hands.

 

End for now

KittyLYnne, this one was all for you. Can an Empress love again? Apparently she can learn. Grief should never overcloud your life to the point of never moving forward. Just my thought.

Sincerely yours penpaninu 10/27/05