Gundam Wing Fan Fiction / Sailor Moon Fan Fiction ❯ Unspoken ❯ Chapter 4

Unspoken:

Book I of the Lost Love Arc

Chapter Four

 

Fandom: Sailor Moon/Gundam Wing

Genre: Drama, Angst, Romance

Pairing: Hotaru/Duo

Rating: X/NC-17

 

Summary: Set during the Silver Millennium, Unspoken is a tale of duty, devotion, and loss—and, of course, unrequited love.

 

*

 

Two months had passed since the night two rebellious princesses had slipped away from the castle's watchful eyes, and the King and Queen of Janus had returned home with their wayward son in tow shortly thereafter. Hotaru was far from saddened, but knew, unfortunately, that her life would fail to return to normal. Instead of spending her days peacefully, the princess had been caught up in a flurry of what she'd begun to refer to as `wedding fever'.

 

Her wedding had been the talk of the town for the past two months, and everyone was curious to see what the event of the season would look like. Planning this event had taken up a large chunk of Hotaru's time, but finally…the event was looming painfully close; merely a week and a day away.

 

Preparations were almost completed—the invitations had long since gone out and everything else taken care of. She simply had to wait until the day of—after all, you only were married once (usually), so even if you didn't like the groom, it might as well be something worth remembering. Surprisingly enough, Hotaru had agreed with Queen Rosaria and was holding the ceremony outdoors in the garden her mother had planted during her short time as queen.

 

On this particular day, however, the wedding was not Hotaru's first concern. Makoto had come earlier that morning so that they might spar together, as they usually did. With that finished, the princess carefully brushed her hair so that it hung in a straight, silky waterfall of black down to her mid-back. She dressed casually in black trousers and a green tunic, humming to herself as she did so.

 

Maxine's day off always meant that Hotaru also had spare time to do as she pleased, and she intended on taking full advantage of it. “Finally, time to myself…” the heiress sighed, speaking to no one. A touch of lip tint was the only make-up the young girl suffered herself to apply. Bounding out of the room, Hotaru took the steps two at a time, calling to the guards at the front door, “I'm off to market with Princess Marle. Don't disturb me unless it's imperative. I will be back in time for dinner.”

 

*

 

Hotaru found herself browsing the market stalls with Marle beside her, chatting quietly over various wares, while vendors watched with guarded eyes, making sure that nothing was slipped mistakenly among their own belongings. It was something both girls found very amusing—the two royal princesses could walk so anonymously among their people and no one knew the difference. Of course, were they dressed in the finery so often associated with nobles, people would know better, but that would defeat the purpose.

 

Marle smiled, brushing a strand of red hair out of her face as she knelt down, admiring a gilt mirror and secretly checking her own reflection. “I can't believe it's so close to the date. Tell me, are you nervous at all?”

 

Shooting her good friend a slight smile, Hotaru put down the amulet she'd been gazing at, trying to discern its worth. “No, not a bit. I imagine it would be different if I were in love with him. Then I'd be all a-flutter with nerves and anticipation. But this marriage is just another part of my duty to my father and to my kingdom. Surely you relate?”

 

The elder moon princess stood, brushing imaginary dirt from her earth-colored trousers. It was not particularly in fashion for women to wear trousers, but women of the working class almost always did, seeing as their jobs often included duties where skirts and dresses would be a hindrance.

 

As the girls moved on to another stall, Marle finally answered, “Yes, I suppose I do. Though I would release Prince Mamoru from our betrothal if I could. No one knows that he and little Serenity are having a bit of an affair.”

 

“Really?” Hotaru gasped in response, eyes wide at this bit of gossip.

 

Marle nodded carefully, shooting a glance at her friend and responding, “Truly. I saw them one night on her balcony. I am the only one who knows…and now you.” Left unspoken was the fact that this was told in utmost confidence, and Hotaru was not to spread the rumor any further. Both girls knew this automatically though—the lives of nobles were dictated by duty and obligation; love was a novelty and something that often did not occur in their lives.

 

“How fascinating…” Hotaru murmured as they stopped at a stall with bolts of fabrics. She admired the rich brocades imported from the silkworms of Earth, but…

 

“They're too extravagant,” Marle stated, echoing the Saturnian princess' thoughts. “Not practical at all. Though you would look lovely in it.” The redhead fingered a bolt of fabric whose delicately patterned flowers offset the black of the rest of it. “Perhaps a robe? That way it would not get damaged.”

 

“Perhaps…” Hotaru murmured, and on impulse ordered the shopkeeper, “Have it wrapped up and send it to the palace. I shop on behalf of the princess.” With that she set enough coin down to pay for the bolt and a little extra to make shipping it worth the woman's while.

 

“Of course, milady…” the shopkeeper murmured, her voice stunned. Her hands were eager enough though, and took the coin offered. The girls left the booth then and headed towards a nearby tavern.

 

“I'm starved,” complained Marle, holding her stomach with one hand. “I left very early without breakfast to avoid Queen Serenity's questions.” Laughing, Hotaru replied, “I'm also hungry, though that's because I do not eat breakfast.”

 

“An unhealthy habit,” chided the other princess as they walked through the door. Hotaru found herself replying, “True enough. But the thought of food in the mornings makes me nauseous.” They took a seat and one of the tavern maids came over to get their order. It was a simple fare, but one that took the edge off of their hunger. Just as they were about to leave, the door burst open, and a boy rushed in wearing the livery of Saturn's castle. A page, of course.

 

“Princess? Princess?!” the boy yelled. Despairing of having her alter ego discovered, Hotaru waved the boy over, saying loudly enough for all to hear, “There is no princess here, but I am her maidservant. What can I do for you, boyo?” The page anxiously knelt at the princesses' feet, breathing heavily. “The king…has taken a turn for the worse.”

 

The words had the effect of a lightning bolt going through Hotaru, and she stood abruptly, her chair flying out from under her. “I will go to the palace at once. Marle, follow at your own pace and bring the boy!” The dark-haired girl was off then, fast as the wind, riding outside only to steal a horse from the nearest guard she could find. “Royal business!” she called to the confused guard, “It will be returned!”

 

*

 

Hotaru reared the horse to a halt at the front gate of the palace, and surged off, shoving the reins at another startled guard. “See it returned to the guard house nearest the market!” She ran through the hallways, flinging servants, officials, trays, even furniture out of her way, all in her eagerness to hit the stairs. Up the staircase spiraled until she reached the third floor of the palace, proceeding immediately to her father's private chamber.

 

The priests of the Death Temple stood outside the door in their dark robes, waving incense and kneeling in prayer. “Move!” she shouted, and leapt directly over the high priest. Her father's trusted menservants scrambled out of the way, and she flung the door open. Maxine was inside with two other serving girls that Hotaru had never had the privilege of learning the names of. The older woman held in her arms a basin of cool water and a damp rag.

 

One girl hurried to close the door behind her, but the princess paid her no mind. The focus of her world was, in that moment, her father. She saw him then as others had seen him for a long time—a frail, old man whose time was up, whose throne would soon be vacant. It hit her all at once that her father was dying and once he left, she would be sovereign over a kingdom. She would be alone…

 

“Oh, father,” the girl moaned out, her voice the sound of piteous heartbreak. With trembling steps, she knelt by the bed to take her father's hand in both of hers. Hands just like her mother's, the king had always said, so small and delicate yet strong enough to accomplish whatever task she wished for. “Do not leave me, father.”

 

Bowing her head over that so-still hand clasped in hers, Hotaru allowed her hair to shield the salty tears now steadily dripping out of her eyes. “H- Hotaru…Is that you?” Her father's voice came, painstakingly small and broken. “Yes, father, it is I.”

 

“Do not cry so. My daughter…I did not raise you…to show weakness to the world.” Every phrase was spoken laboriously, with long, drawn out pauses between where the old king would try to catch his breath. “Don't strain yourself, father,” Hotaru tried to demand, but it came out as a sad plea. “I die, Hotaru. We both know this.”

 

Her tears came stronger then, and she clutched that frail old hand to her like it was a lifeline. “Hotaru…listen closely.”

 

“Yes…” she sniffled, trying to make her sobs cease.

 

“I die. You…you will be queen. With your own power, your own rules and edicts. I know…Prince Duo is not your first choice…but he will be a good king. Should you…break the engagement, they will fall upon you like vultures. I tried…to shield you from that, but I fear…I know my time is up.”

 

Hotaru needed no further explanation and fear deeper than this moment sank in. It had occurred to her that once her father passed on, she would be able to make her own laws, pass her own edicts. How had he known she would think that way? But he was right—the other nobles would rebel, civil war would ensue. So soon after, she would not be strong enough as queen to withstand it.

 

“Father, do not go…” she begged one more time, feeling that all at once she was not prepared to rule. “There is so much…so much to do, to learn, to witness. I do not know if I am strong enough on my own.”

 

“You…will be, must be. You are mine and your mother's child; our strength is in you,” he muttered, already slipping away. “No, no!” Hotaru cried, her nails biting into his skin, “You must stay! You must see me…walk down the aisle with me, deliver me to the prince and through him, the kingdom! You cannot leave me yet!”

 

“I love you, daughter…Neferti…” His last words, and the old king's breath rattled out, eyes closed already. His hand grew lax, and the spirit he'd contained, Shinigami, escaped his body… And with that, Hotaru broke, screaming, crying hysterically, flinging her body on top of her father's, releasing his hand only to beat on his chest, begging, begging for him to return.

 

Hands clasped her wrists, fought to pull her away, and the princess fought back, tooth and nail, her voice harsh and angry as tears continued to stream down her face. Finally, she was released, flung onto the ground where Hotaru collapsed, curling into herself as she cried and screamed, cursing the gods, cursing her mother, Neferti, for calling him away.

 

An indeterminate amount of time later, Hotaru became aware of more than just her anguish, well past the point where her throat had gone raw and hoarse, and her tears had eased. A hand petting her tangled black hair, Maxine murmured, “There now…there, there, child. I know…Just let it out. Let it all come out.”

 

A pair of feminine, long fingered hands held her wrists down, kept her from curling up completely. Slowly, Hotaru looked up into the grief-stricken face of Princess Marle. In response to the question in her eyes, the redhead whispered, “You were hurting yourself.” The instant she said it, small pains made themselves known in the scratches along her arms and face and neck. Some of her nails were badly broken from fighting so hard and from marking herself.

 

She cried anew then, the only sounds she was capable of making were low, painful-sounding moans. A cup came into view. Marle released one wrist so that she might accept it, and Hotaru sat up then, eager for something to ease the rawness in her throat. She gulped it down quickly, barely tasting it, then handed the cup back…looking up into the kind, weathered face of one of her father's personal physicians.

 

The sorrow and pity in his eyes was the last thing Hotaru was truly aware of before the sedative worked its magic, and she closed her eyes, lost in darkness.

 

*

 

When Hotaru woke much, much later it was to more darkness. She knew this darkness however, and wasn't frightened by it. Lying down on a large, warm bed, Hotaru knew that it was hers—her room, her bed, her darkness. The smell of sunflowers greeted her nose, and she knew without turning that the warm arms wrapped around her in sleep were those of her friend, Marle.

 

She had stayed, whether to comfort her through the night or see that she did no further harm to herself, Hotaru did not know, nor care. Inexplicably, unbelievably, she began crying again, silent sobs that shook her frame but no sound emerged. Feeling her friend wake and her confusion, Hotaru turned and threw her arms around Marle.

 

“He was all I had…” the princess mumbled sadly, speaking through tears.

 

“I know,” Marle replied, stroking her hair and her back, trying to bring comfort to the inconsolable grief of her friend. In that moment, the red-haired princess prepared to keep a vigil over her friend for the rest of the night and into daybreak. Because true friends were there when you needed them most.

 

*

 

TBC…