Utena, Revolutionary Girl Fan Fiction ❯ Love's Honor ❯ Chapter Twelve ( Chapter 12 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Chapter Twelve

Late afternoon turned to evening, the golden rays of the sun
giving way to the star-adorned mantle of the night. Lord
Touga remained in the chair near the fireplace, sleeping
deeply as those around him continued on with life. Lady
Utena and her retinue amused themselves by playing the board
game discovered earlier by the pink-haired maiden; Lady
Nanami hovered protectively near her somnolent brother,
keeping vigilant watch over him and his surroundings; and
even the call to supper as the darkness deepened didn't
cause the Kiryuu prince to stir. Nor did the somewhat noisy
return of Lord Kyouichi and his men disturb Touga; while
those within the lodge gathered somberly outside to arrange
respectfully upon the ground the remains of those who had
fallen, the Red Tyger slept on. The younger Kiryuu noble
stood in for her sibling as a small prayer was recited and
the bodies covered over with blankets taken from the
fortified manor house, for once her demeanor and mood quite
serious and solemn.

While the others reentered the hunting lodge in respectful
silence, the Verdant Gryphon directed his clansmen to form
watches. While one group each remained awake to both guard
the manor and hold vigil over the fallen, those who would
relieve them later on would sleep upon the ground nearby.
Glancing back over her shoulder as she stepped inside, Utena
smiled as she noted with respect that the emerald-haired
lord was unpacking his saddlebags after issuing his commands
in a low voice; Saionji intended to share his warriors'
circumstances, electing to slumber outside as they would be
instead of claiming the privilege of rank and spending the
night in the comfort of the hunting lodge.

The darkness deepened and still Touga slept, the few
attempts made to rouse him coming to little avail, though he
did stir just a bit. While Utena and her retinue eventually
retired to their assigned chamber on their own, it took the
efforts of the rather concerned escort of Kiryuu warriors to
make the increasingly worried princess in their charge go to
bed in the guestroom given for her use. Once that was done,
the group of Kiryuu clansmen arranged themselves on cots
near both their sleeping lord and the warmth of the blaze
glowing cheerfully within the lodge's great stone fireplace.

And as he slept, he dreamed. At first they were images of
balance and harmony, giving Touga's somnolent mind a sense
of an unending stretch of time where all was right in the
world. There was no sorrow, no fear, no uncertainty, and no
disharmony . . . Then came the shadows, creeping in a
little at a time. Peace gave way to vigilance . . .

Then he dreamed of illness, a growing sense of imbalance as
the darkness grew. Fever began to grip him, yet he
struggled on against the lengthening shadows. Heat,
weariness, the beginning of a sense of hopelessness . . .
Cool, gentle hands trying to ease the ravages of the
sickness, hands belonging to a dusky-skinned woman of
unparalleled beauty within whom rested a power of light and
life and health, yet even her ministrations were to little
avail. The illness continued on, the shadows grew longer
and darker, and he fought on against them.

The dusky-skinned maiden had been there throughout his
dream, a gorgeous figure with a long silken mane of straight
hair the color of deepest violet. He had caught glimpses of
her all along among the other images, a lovely vision that
evoked with it love and contentment. She was his equal,
his foil, and the one constantly at his side in balance.
And as the illness continued, she was there, doing her best
to ease the suffering from the fever and weakness.

He dreamed of a sword, as bright as a sun against the
deepening shadows, the blade reflective silver but the
sharpest of steel and the golden hilt adorned with blood-red
rubies, some of which were cut in the shape of hearts. The
powers of Light and health and balance were focused within
its length, the weapon becoming the bane to all dark things.
But even that wasn't enough . . .

A single white rose bloomed in the gathering gloom . . . A
dark-skinned hand curled around the hilt of the sword . . .
Desperation filled Touga's sleeping mind, the heat of the
illness becoming unbearable, and the shining blade lifted
higher . . . A flash of brightest white and the weapon
descended upon the snowy flower, cleaving it in two. Two
roses spun out of the scattered petals of the destroyed
rose, one blossom royal violet, the other scarlet red. For
a moment, they hung in the silence of the deepening
twilight, then they fell away, disappearing into the
darkness. And as they fell, a sense of something heavy
filled the highland chieftain's awareness, as if his entire
body was composed of molten lead, the pull of gravity making
it hard to breathe . . .

With a frantic gasp and an overpowering sense of panic,
Touga's mind clawed upward into wakefulness even as his body
struggled to sit upright. For a timeless moment, the
sensation of being unable to breathe clung to him; his body
continued to fight for air until he realized that he was
indeed awake and that the darkness surrounding him was
merely the hunting lodge shrouded in nighttime shadow.
Forcing himself to take a number of deep breaths in order to
calm his racing heart, he glanced about himself to better
orient to place and time.

A *pop* from the slowly dying fire and the faint sounds of
others breathing were all that came to the chieftain's
hearing. Noting those lost to the land of dreams around
him, he frowned as he recalled the sense of suffocation that
had roused him. Then came soft footfalls; long red hair
swayed gently as he turned to discover the source of the
noise.

Her feminine curves accented by her silken dress, the white
cloth rippling smoothly with her movements, the full-cut
garment gathered about her slender waist by a girdle of
silver chains adorned with pearls, Utena walked slowly up to
where Touga sat in the chair. What ambient light there was
made both her gown and the loose cascade of curly pink hair
almost glow, and for a moment the young lord thought that he
was staring at some Fey creature. Recognizing her as she
drew near, he relaxed and gave her a smile.

Gracefully she knelt, one knee against the floor and the
flowing skirt of her dress a pool of snowy white around her.
Comfortably at eye level with him, she returned his smile,
an expression of relief there in her aqua-colored eyes.
"'Tis good to see you among the living, my lord," she
whispered, not wanting to awaken those of his clan sleeping
nearby. "We tried to rouse you but could only make you stir
in your slumber. How are you feeling?"

He took a moment to assess his current state of being,
carefully moving his injured leg. Already his breath and
his heart had slowed to near normal, and the throbbing in
his wounded limb had abated slightly. Moving it no longer
gave any sharp twinges of pain, though he was suddenly quite
aware of a couple of sources of discomfort -- the most
urgent of which was a ravenous hunger. "I'm starving, my
lady," he whispered in response. "And I need to take
another trip to the garderobe."

Utena nodded, rising as gracefully as she had knelt. "I'll
help you if you need it, my lord," she offered. "Once
you've relieved yourself, there's food to be had in the
kitchen."

"Welcome news, that," he responded, pushing himself up from
the confines of the well-padded chair. Though his leg was
certainly feeling better and he was able to bear more of his
weight upon it, he still found himself having to lean
against the lowlander's willowy form for support. They
remained in silent companionship as Utena lead him toward
the doorway to the facilities, but once he emerged from the
small chamber and wrapped an arm around the white-clad
maiden's waist, he softly asked, "Why are you awake at such
an hour, my lady?"

"You have passed the six challenges I have given you,
proving to me your capacity to hold dear the virtues of
Amor," Utena answered, continuing to whisper into the
darkness. "The time has come to give you the key to the
Rose Arbor." She paused in her speech while they made their
way toward the archway opposite the garderobe, their
footfalls muffled by the large patterned carpet that covered
the center of the lodge's main room's wooden floor. "I was
also worried about you," she added before he could continue
the conversation, "as was everyone else, including the
Saionji warriors."

"I hope Nanami hasn't fretted herself into a fitful sleep,"
Touga said, knowing how concerned his sibling must have
been.

"I tried to reassure her that you would be fine once you
awoke on your own, but she wouldn't believe me," the
rose-haired girl responded, frowning slightly. "Your
clansmen had to practically march her off to bed."

The scarlet-maned lord merely smiled at the news of his
sister's reluctance. But mention of the younger Kiryuu made
his thoughts turn to someone else almost as dear.
"Saionji?"

"He's keeping watch outside with his men, who are both
guarding the lodge as well as holding vigil over the
fallen." Utena's voice held a note of sorrow; somehow she
would need to send Ryu's body home to his mother. "They
were able to bring back everyone, though the animals had
gotten to them."

"At least there's been no additional trouble," the Red Tyger
commented, quite relieved to hear that his foster brother
had returned safely. Still, the target had seemed to be the
girl that was even now helping him into the kitchen. That
those who were left behind in the hunting lodge had passed
the day in peace was more then likely pure luck then skill;
word must not have gotten back quite yet that the band of
warriors had failed.

"Aye, at least," Utena responded, guiding the tall nobleman
over to a small round table and a pair of chairs arranged
next to the massive stone fireplace that dominated one wall
of the kitchen. True to custom, the fire was still going, a
small kettle hanging over the low flames from a movable iron
hook attached to the interior surface of the gaping
fireplace. Once her companion had taken a seat, the young
maiden took a moment to toss a couple more pieces of wood on
the fire before turning to look at him. "Wait here, my
lord, and I shall bring you something to eat. Once your
hunger has abated, then I shall do what needs to be done to
open the path to the Rose Arbor."

"Very well." Settling back into the chair and noting that
this one wasn't nearly as comfortable as the other, the
highland chieftain kept his deep azure gaze focused on the
other noble as she gathered up the leftovers from their
earlier supper.

Slices of cheese and cured meats, along with slabs of bread
baked that afternoon, had been set aside for the redheaded
lord but had remained untouched while he had slept. Picking
up the wooden platter, Utena retraced her steps and set the
dish down on the table. "There's vegetable stew in the
pot," she explained as she picked up a wrought-iron hook and
deftly snagged the hanging kettle from its perch over the
fire.

Taking a moment to offer his thanks in between mouthfuls,
Touga turned his attention fully toward the food. The
hunger he felt burning there in the pit of his stomach was
unlike any he'd ever experienced before -- more intense, as
if he'd gone without eating for days on end. Considering
that he knew that wasn't the case, he had to figure that it
was another side effect of the healing, just as the
unusually deep sleep had been. When Utena returned with a
wooden bowl full of the delicious-smelling stew, he nodded
in appreciation and kept his focus on eating.

Settling in the chair opposite him, the slender warrioress
was content to watch him in silence as he broke his fast.
So here was the first to pass the challenges . . . All the
others had been lords as well, for it was stressed that the
champion was one of princely demeanor and experience, one
mystically wedded to the land. Many she had thought would
pass had stumbled upon one challenge or another. Some were
stingy, while others couldn't swallow their pride. Still
others had little mercy in their souls or wouldn't justly
defend someone who deserved it. All were ones approached
because she thought she saw within them what she was
searching for; for just over a year, she had been traveling
ever northward, observing then testing, only to have to move
onward.

A deep melancholy settled over her as she turned her
thoughts to possibly having the tender of the roses reject
Lord Touga. Though she had only been in his company a few
days, she was aware of a growing fondness. Should he not be
the one, it would be hard to walk away from the man she'd
come to know. And yet any thought she turned back to the
now-hazy memory of receiving the ruby-adorned brooch of the
fallen Champion made the old, familiar determination and
urgency to fulfill her quest return. She had made a promise
she would keep.

The worst of the hunger satiated, Touga slowed his
consumption and lifted his gaze once more to the beautiful
noblewoman. "So, my lady, what must be done to open the
way?" he asked, voice low.

"The key must be made to work for you," Utena began
explaining, lowering her aquamarine gaze to her lap.
"Otherwise you would be unable to open the gateway guarding
the entrance."

An entry into a Faerie place . . . "More magic then, my
lady?"

"Aye," she replied, her voice now a whisper.

Touga merely nodded as he silently bit down on a slice of
the sharp-tasting cheese. The ways of Faerie were often
mysterious, beyond the comprehension of mere men. That this
champion seemed invested with the beneficial powers of the
Unseen only led the highlander to expect that the process
surrounding the choice of a new wielder would be rife with
magic.

"I was told that should I find one whose heart was in accord
with the virtues of Amor, then I would need to have the
Champion's symbol taste the blood of the hand that would
wield Love's Honor," the lowlander maiden added, her hands
fumbling with something in her lap.

(Taste the blood?) the elegant nobleman mentally queried,
scarlet eyebrows rising in an expression of intense
curiosity. "The Champion's symbol?" Touga asked aloud,
attention now fully on the girl sitting across the table.

"This . . ." Utena responding, lifting a hand up so that it
was once more visible to her redheaded companion. Cupped in
the palm was a round brooch of exquisite workmanship, the
edge of the knotwork-adorned metal lined with glimmering red
stones, the center of the disk decorated with a cross
composed of four heart-shaped rubies arranged with their
points to the center. "Just as you wear the signet ring of
the Kiryuu as their prince, so does the Champion wear the
symbol of his blessed position."

He stared in awe at the piece of jewelry, wide-eyed. Aye,
it was a gorgeous piece of work, but even its physical
beauty wasn't enough to explain the tingle of familiarity
that crawled down his spine at the sight of it. Dismissing
the sensation, he focused instead on another thought:
without a doubt, this must have been the true target of the
Ebon Phoenix. "And how do you mean to have it 'taste the
blood' of my right hand?" Touga finally asked, cobalt-blue
gaze still focused on the golden brooch. Given her words,
his best guess would be that something would need to be done
to that particular member.

Utena continued to evade his gaze as she deftly flipped the
golden object over, exposing the reverse side of the disc.
Unlike the obverse, the metal here was plain, showing only
the smooth surface and the fastener that would keep the item
secure upon someone's clothing. Setting the brooch down on
the table, the young noblewoman fiddled with the catch,
releasing the pin and swinging it upward. Three inches of
glimmering gold pointed skyward like some slender, miniature
sword. "You will need to stab the pin through your hand, my
lord," she softly said.

Touga blinked, startled. Though expecting to perhaps
scratch himself open with the sharp point, hearing that he
must drive the length of the pin into his hand was something
unforeseen. "And there's no other way?"

"No. Without doing so, the brooch won't be attuned to you,
and you will be unable to pass through the gates," the
rose-haired maiden replied.

As he continued to stare at it, the gleaming sliver of gold
seemed to take on a somewhat sinister air. Granted, he had
taken far worse wounds in his years of training and then in
defense of self and clan -- the arrow through his leg being
the most recent such injury -- yet knowing that there was
some sort of magic involved gave him pause for thought. "A
little wound . . ." he murmured out loud, an unconscious
effort to reassure himself. "And if Ohtori truly has the
power of the Unseelie on his side . . ."

"Do -- do you think that's the case?" Utena queried, her
voice with a note of worry.

"Those men who attacked appeared to come from the very air,
and there was no mention of a force of strangers within the
Kaoru lands. I'm certain Lord Miki would have warned
Saionji and myself were they aware of it," Touga answered,
lifting his gaze once more to his companion's visage.
"Magic surrounds your quest, and defines it. The Phoenix
wants this key you hold. I can only assume it is to stop
one from obtaining use of the Seelie power promised the new
Champion. Either he wishes it for himself -- and if so, and
he's aware you hold the key, why has he not approached you
about taking your challenges? -- or he is in league with
those forces opposite to what the Champion wields." The
redheaded chieftain shook his head slightly. "No, for the
good of all involved, I must assume Ohtori has agreed to be
the tool of those who would see there is no new Champion,
just as I have agreed to try to be the tool of those who
wish there to be one again."

At the use of the word "tool", the lowlander maiden frowned,
then looked away from the elegant man across the table from
where she sat. "Such a harsh way of stating it, my lord . .
."

"Lady Utena . . ." Waiting for her to glance at him again,
he leaned forward when she did so and gently cupped her chin
with his hand. "I apologize if you think my words mean that
I'm belittling both your quest and what it means to become
the Champion of Amor. I'm truly not, but it's always best
to see things as they really are. The Fey are beyond the
knowledge of us mortals; their morality and their goals
aren't the same as ours, and they do use us for both good
and ill."

She met his gaze once more, noting the earnest expression on
his handsome face. He seemed to know much about the world
and its workings from what she could tell from her
observations, another trait that appealed to her. He was a
good prince, able to anticipate danger and keep it from
harming those in his care. And she could see in his deep
azure eyes that he wanted this, not for himself but for his
people because he knew it would further their chances to
remain safe, healthy and happy.

But first, he must do this and be accepted by the woman who
tended the roses.

And how she'd like to be kissed by him, the slender
warrioress realized as she became aware of how close they
were to one another, each leaning over the table, his hand
warm against her chin. Blinking, she pulled back, blushing
faintly. She needed to conduct the ritual she was
instructed to perform, not remain sitting here mooning over
the beautiful man who had passed her challenges. Leaving
the brooch there on the wooden planks of the round table,
Utena gracefully stood. "If you're done with your meal . .
.?"

A hint of a smile crossed the highlander's face; he'd caught
the glimmer of interest there in her sea blue eyes. Leaning
back slightly as well, he nodded. "Aye, I'm finished."

"Are you ready to do this, my lord?"

His dark blue gaze shifted to the slender needle of gold,
the orange light of the fire reflected along its length. To
put it off would only heighten the hesitation. Aye, it
would hurt -- and with magic involved, there could be more
than the pain -- but there was no other way, and to succeed,
he would need to pass through this gate. "Aye," he softly
breathed, doing his best to quell the growing nervousness
within.

Utena nodded, then began gathering up the dishes from the
table, the firelight reflected in the highlights of her
loose, flowing, curly hair. This place would work, being
away from where the others slept, a quiet corner of the
lodge more than likely not invaded by the rest of those in
the area. "Make yourself as comfortable as you can, then.
Close your eyes and relax, taking deep breaths. The first
thing I must do is prepare the area."

Her footsteps faded into the distance as Touga sought to do
as she had asked. Back against the sturdy wooden chair, he
focused his awareness on his breathing, making his
inhalations and exhalations long and steady while he emptied
his mind of all thought. The wound in his left leg twinged
for a moment, forcing him to shift position and move the
injured limb, but once he was settled, all he noticed was
the slowness of his breathing and the gentle beat of his
heart.

They were waiting there where she had left them, on the
long, rectangular table used by the cooks to prepare the
food served. One of the objects was a small thurible, a
delicate silver ball of filigree that could be opened and
hung from a delicate chain of silver links; inside already
was the small disk of charcoal and dried herbs to be used
for the incense of the ritual. The other object was a
shallow silver dish made in the shape of a scallop shell,
tiny white grains of precious salt covering the interior
surface. Both items had been given to her by the
violet-haired Fey woman who cared for the roses, along with
the instructions with how to proceed.

Picking up a small ewer of water, Utena carefully poured
some of the liquid into the silver dish. Setting it down,
she gently stirred the salt and water with an index finger
until the granules were dissolved. Continuing to cradle the
silver object in her hand, she picked the thurible up by its
chain and retraced her steps. Coming near where her
scarlet-haired companion sat, she looked him over while she
set the dish down on the table near where the Champion's
brooch rested. He seemed quite relaxed sitting there, eyes
closed and face expressionless. Nodding in satisfaction,
Utena turned and drew near to the fireplace, crouching down
to dangle the filigree ball over the dancing flames. The
tongue of fire licked over the silver wire, igniting the
charcoal within; she swiftly rose to keep the fire from
consuming the incense itself.

Noting that the thurible was emitting a small curl of
sweet-smelling smoke, the rose-haired maiden took up a
position behind the sitting lord. "To protect us both from
perhaps hostile powers attracted to this moment, I shall now
create a shield around us. First with Fire and Air, I
consecrate this space and those within." Her actions
explained, Utena slowly paced around the table, gently
swinging the filigree censer before her. Hearing focused on
the measured footfalls of her slow walk, Touga became aware
of the sweet scent of the slightly pungent smoke. Once her
circuit was complete, she halted just to the side of the
highlander and swung the thurible around him, letting the
bluish-white ribbon of incense curl over his tall form.
"Hold out your right hand," Utena softly demanded.

Opening his eyes but being sure to remain in the same
relaxed, thoughtless state he had achieved, the Red Tyger
did as he was asked. Already the scent was having an
effect; he was feeling somewhat detached from everything as
he lifted his hand into the air. He watched dispassionately
as the smoke tickled across his skin and continued on to
rise toward the heavens while the white-clad maiden held the
censer under the appendage. That done, Utena carefully set
the silver filigree ball down at the center of the round
table; the burning charcoal disk and herbal incense were
perched upon a solid platform within, keeping the heat from
being dangerous along the bottom of the openwork sphere.

She picked up the silver dish, resting it in the palm of her
left hand. Again taking up a position behind the elegant
nobleman, she dipped the fingers of her other hand into the
salted water. "With Earth and Water, I consecrate this
place and those within," she said, her voice low in the
darkness. Once again she made her stately circuit around
the table, this time flicking drops of the liquid from the
dish before her. With each measured step, she dipped her
hand into the water, flung the droplets from her digits and
then took her next step.

The water was slightly cold where it landed upon Touga's
exposed skin; he could feel the other drops splattering
against clothing and hair. Her circle completed, the
lowlander had once again halted next to him, this time
intending to purify him with the physical symbols of the
other two Elements. Assuming that this would be a
reflection of the first pair of Elements, he held out his
right hand once more when Utena finished flicking droplets
over the length of his body. More of the salty liquid was
flicked onto the offered hand before Utena leaned over and
set the dish down next to the still smoking thurible.

The slender noblewoman drew back once more; before she
disappeared from his sight, Touga noticed her pulling from
its leather sheath -- which was fastened to her girdle of
silver links and pearls -- the slim dagger with which she
normally ate. The swish of white silk was heard as she
stood behind him for a third time. "With this blade, I cast
the ward. None shall pass this path I carve in place and
time." Raising the knife before her, point skyward, she
kissed the flat of the blade then lowered her arm. The
point now facing to the wooden floor, Utena circled around
the table and the seated nobleman for a third pass, this
time walking backwards, the dagger trailing in her steps.
In her wake, she could see a silvery trail of faint light
there on the floor where the knife had already passed.

The moment the circle was complete, the rose-maned girl
stepped inward, within the area embraced by the pale ring of
light. Her slender form next to Touga's chair, she
carefully set her dagger down next to the other two objects
in the center of the table. "We stand in a place between
all places. We exist in a time beyond all times. We are
safe and protected within the Four made One." At the final
syllable of her softly intoned words, faint silver radiance
sprung up around them, forming a dome that held them within
itself. The strangest thing about the warding shield Touga
discovered was that no matter what part of it he looked at
straight on, it seemed to not be visible, yet he could see
the gentle glow of the magic from the corner of his eye and
sense it surrounding him.

However, his attention was swiftly turned away to something
else. Slim fingers carefully picking up the ruby-adorned
gold brooch, Utena straightened and then fished out a small
vial from the gray leather pouch slung from her belt -- more
then likely, that was where she had kept the Champion's
brooch until she had shown it to him. Pulling the cork from
the container, she dipped the sharply pointed pin of the
piece of jewelry into the dark contents. "The tender of the
Rose Arbor told me that this liquid would keep the wound
made by the brooch from becoming corrupted," she explained
while withdrawing the pin. For a moment, a drop of
something as black as night hung there from the golden
point, then it fell into the vial from whence it had come.
Replacing the stopper, she dropped the small container into
her pouch once more, then held out the brooch to her
companion. "You know what you are to do. To unlock the
gate and open the path to the roses, you must stab the
Champion's brooch through your sword hand."

Touga nodded, his expression somber. A simple thing, yet
not so easily done. Taking the metallic object into the
grasp of his left hand, he curled long fingers over the
disk. Sure of his hold, he stared for a moment at the thin
spike of gold jutting outward from the back of the brooch.
The instinct to keep oneself intact was a strong one; to
deliberately wound himself went against that, making him
hesitate. Yet there was no other way. If he could not make
the key work for himself, then he would be unable to reach
the Faerie place and be judged. Ohtori would then make his
move, bolstered by the dark powers, while Utena continued
on, looking for one that held the virtues of Love in his
heart and could perform this simple task. And he and his
quite mortal people would be at risk.

Shifting his position slightly, the Red Tyger lightly rested
his right palm against the surface of the circular table.
Flattening his hand, he extended the tip of his left index
finger from his hold on the brooch and pressed down on the
back of his other hand, searching for a place between the
bones. If he were to do this, it would be better to make it
an injury of the flesh. Discovering what felt to be a
viable location, he moved his left hand to hover above his
right, the point of the golden pin resting against the
unbroken skin over his chosen place. (A bit of force, just
so, and it will be done . . .)

He could not keep the detached calmness. Adrenaline rushed
through him, his heart pounding; tiny beads of sweat dotted
his beautiful face as he held the sharp point against the
skin. In its way, this was worse than the arrow he took in
his leg -- at least with that injury, he didn't know it was
coming. This one, he knew its source. All of reality
narrowed down to the tension of his grip on the ruby-adorned
gold and to the feel of the pin against his hand -- and of
the pair of aquamarine eyes staring at him, watching and
waiting.

Touga sucked in a breath, then suddenly bore down on the
brooch with the whole of the force of his left arm. The
scarlet-haired man's breath came out in a violent exhale at
the sharp pain that lanced through his hand; he gasped as
the golden pin hit the unyielding solidity of the wooden
table underneath, the jarring sensation making the wound
flare in even more agony. Lifting the injured member high
enough to confirm that the length of the pin had indeed
passed through the flesh -- the crimson-stained point was
clearly visible jutting out from the surface of the palm --
he then closed his eyes tightly and yanked the brooch
upward. Blood still clinging to the slender, three-inch
shaft, the Champion's symbol seemed to glow with an inner
light not there before, the rubies glimmering with a deep
red light. Touga would have dropped it to the table in the
next instant had something not distracted him.

Utena watched, her breath still caught in her throat, as the
highland lord made ready to release his hold on the piece of
jewelry. His elegant form then stiffened, the expression
shifting to a grimace of pain to one of confused wonder.
The cobalt-blue eyes remained shut even as he seemed to
slowly relax, caught up in something only he was
experiencing.

The burning stab swiftly faded away as a bright light seemed
to fill his mind's eye. A vision came to him, of a great
massive stone gateway, the pattern of a giant rose carved
upon its pink-veined white surface. Even as the image
seared itself into his memory, Touga got the sense that this
place lay to the northeast, in the depths of the wild
forests not far from the lands of the Golden Panther. Then
the gateway opened, the massive stone rising upward as two
wrought-iron gates slid past one another, revealing behind
them a winding staircase covered in deep green foliage and
rose blossoms. Like the entry, the stairs were made of
pink-veined white marble, the banisters supporting climbing
roses in a rainbow of colors. Climbing upward and
zigzagging through the dense evergreen forest, the stairs
seemed to reach for the sky. He soared upwards along them,
scaling them far faster then he knew he could by walking,
the deep green forest and riot of flowery colors a blur. At
the top of the stairs, he passed through a shattered stone
archway, emerging in a place that seemed to be a sea of
roses. In the center of it all stood a single figure clad
in a red the same hue as the flowers that surrounded her,
her long, straight, violet hair rippling in the playful
breeze that set the roses to dancing. Seemingly noticing
him there, the dark-skinned maiden smiled -- her visage was
that same breathtaking beauty he had seen in his earlier
dream -- and she held out her arms to him.

In a twinkling of an eye, the distance between them
disappeared. "At last," the mysterious maiden said the
moment he was near, "you've come. I've been waiting for
you." Before he could formulate some sort of reply, she
took his right hand in hers, her dusky skin dark in
comparison to his fair coloring, and looked down at it. Her
brow furrowed as she took notice of the twin punctures; she
raised the palm of his hand to her lips. Petal soft, they
kissed him where the pin had exited from his hand, the
throbbing pain suddenly gone as a warm feeling of
*rightness* washed over him. Still feeling the brush of her
lips against his skin, he watched as everything began to
fade away, falling down a deep, dark tunnel. "Return to me
and claim what is yours," he thought he heard the
violet-haired beauty say even as the sense of being once
more within his own body reasserted itself.
________________

In the depths of the night, a lone figure stood on the
heights of the brooding stone fortress, head tilted back,
the silken strands of his long, pale lavender hair tossed
about by the passing breeze. High above in the dark velvet
vault of the sky, the stars shone like brilliant jewels.
Normally, he would stare up at the tantalizing patterns, his
emerald gaze sweeping over the majestic sight, but for now,
something else was on his mind.

The key was out there, along with the innocent girl drawn to
the place and time to take possession of the key.

He had yet to hear from those he had sent to capture girl
and key. The time was right; his base of power
consolidated. He would be able to sweep over the land and
extend his influence over all that he saw, and love was what
had made it possible. (How ironic,) he mentally chuckled,
the hint of a smile curling over his expressive lips. Then
the expression faltered as he brought to mind that all he
could achieve here was only a splintered fragment of how it
had once been. (How limiting the flesh. No matter. Soon,
I shall have what I need to bypass even that.)

Soft footfalls sounded against the windswept stones.
Clutching a woolen cloak tight about her willowy form,
covering up as much as she could of her chemise of palest
green cloth, a pretty woman made her way over to where the
stunningly handsome, dusky-skinned man stood near the
embattlements. The cool breeze tossed about her pale
yellow-green locks and ruffled the fabric of her clothing.
Seeing him there, her visage took on an expression of
melancholy exasperation. Once again here he was gazing up
at the stars instead of being in bed with her where he
belonged. Doing her best to not sigh in frustration, she
halted a couple of paces from the man and looked him over.

Beautiful in a decidedly masculine way, his body put
together flawlessly and well-toned by exercise and his
continued practice in the arts of war, there were times she
believed all the whispers of her mysterious husband as being
one of the Fey. Certainly there were few mortal men of her
acquaintance with skin and hair of those tones or possessing
such keen intelligence and a knowledge of the way of the
world. As she stood there, she couldn't help but wonder if
he was something more than he seemed to be -- especially
given his apparent fascination with the stars high above.
Regardless, he was certainly wonderful when he was paying
attention to her, and the clan had prospered ever since he
had become their chieftain.

"Akio?" she softly asked, uncertain of her reception. "Is
everything all right?"

"Aye, beloved Kanae," he responded, lowering his head and
turning enough to focus his emerald gaze upon her. Giving
his wife a smile meant to reassure her, he took one of her
hands in his own and gave the back of it a lingering kiss.
"Everything's just fine."

Relaxing slightly, the Ohtori heiress tentatively returned
her husband's smile, though she felt somewhat disappointed
in the answer. "If everything's well, then why are you up
here in the middle of the night? The cold air -- "

"Won't harm me in the slightest, my love," Akio was swift to
answer, interrupting her. Glancing upwards, he added, "I
felt like looking at the stars."

(Always the stars,) she silently complained, her expression
turning only faintly sadder instead of reflecting her
frustrated turmoil within. Wrapping her fingers around the
dark hand still holding hers, she tugged gently at him.
"Come to bed, my lord. Please? It's very late." (I don't
want to be alone yet again . . .)

He stood his ground, her slender form and graceful strength
not enough to move him unless he so wished. Emerald eyes
alight with faint amusement, he watched as she tried to get
him to move. Such a delicate flower, this one, this regal
lily through which he had garnered wealth, power and
prestige. All were needed to win back for himself what he
deserved, lost when he was thrust into the world. Still, he
should be rather grateful for what Kanae had allowed him to
achieve. "As you wish," he softly murmured, still amused at
her determined but ineffectual attempt.

Hearing his acquiescence, she gave him a happy, relieved
smile and let go of his hand. Stretching upwards, she gave
him a kiss of gratitude, then turned and walked off, certain
that he would follow close on her steps.

Indeed, the Ebon Phoenix started forward with every intent
to return to the marital bed, only to halt before he even
took a step as the overwhelming presence of *something*
flooded his senses. The star-spattered night, the stone
parapet of the ancient fortress, the slender figure of his
pretty wife -- all of it faded away in a sudden nothingness.
Blinking in astonishment, he became aware of an image that
coalesced to an almost real solidity, of a massive slab of
pink-veined marble sliding upwards, the iron bars of an
inner gate sliding past one another. Metal creaked and
stone ground, the sound of rushing water accompanying the
movement. Caught by surprise, Akio staggered back; so
caught up was he in the vision that he didn't feel the cold
granite of the tower's embattlements against the backs of
his legs.

There was only one thing such an image could mean. The way
to the Rose Arbor was open.

Not hearing her spouse's footsteps behind her, Kanae turned,
a hand brushing her pale, windswept hair from her face.
Seeing the tall form of the Ohtori prince up against the
battlements, his body rigid and his face staring in wonder
at something only he could see, the young heiress felt a
chill of dread run down her spine. What was happening? Was
there something beyond the mortal realm at work? Was he
going to somehow fall over the edge? "Akio?" she called
out, her voice reflecting her fright. "Please come away
from there." Uncertain of his ability to hear her, she
dashed over to his side and tried once more to tug him back
towards the doorway into the fortress's interior. "Please .
. .?"

(So, a contender for the Champion's power has been found . .
.) That obviously meant that those sent to fetch the brooch
and the innocent girl holding it had failed. Still, this
development opened up new avenues to achieve his goals.
Body still held in rapture at the now-fading vision, he
lowered his head; as his pale lavender hair slid forward, he
softly chuckled.

The sound was a strange one, as was the fact that he
remained unmoving next to her. Her large eyes focused upon
his beloved face, her yellow-green hair once again ruffled
by the nighttime breeze, an even more worried expression
crossed her pretty visage. "What's happening? What's the
matter?" she insisted, her unease at the unusual situation
growing. Once again, she thought of all the rumors about
her husband actually being more than a mere mortal. Perhaps
it was true . . .?

"Everything's just fine, my beloved Kanae," he softly
reassured her as his awareness returned to reality once
more, bending over just enough to give his wife a lingering
kiss. Sensing her growing relaxation, Akio gently
disengaged himself from both the affectionate gesture and
her embrace. Closing the distance between the gray stone
embattlements and the entrance into the upper story of the
tower in long-legged strides, the Ebon Phoenix rushed
forward, wanting to confirm something.

Still somewhat confused, though feeling a bit happier at
seeing her dear husband apparently once more his normal
self, the Ohtori heiress trailed along after him, clutching
her clothing tight about herself again. Through the silent
corridors they walked; the rest of the household was lost to
sleep this far into the night. Even the pair of servants
snoring away in their pallets in the antechamber of the
royal couples' bedchamber didn't stir as the two nobles
returned to their spacious and richly furnished room.
Tapestries lined the walls -- many depicting scenes from a
unicorn hunt -- insulating the room from the weather, as did
the sturdy rug brought back from the mysterious Orient that
lay upon the floor. The mahogany bed was draped with silk
brocade curtains of muted, dark shades, while equally
comfortable bedclothes in pale green covered the mattress.
In the fireplace, the last of the coals were fading to cold
grayness, but Akio noticed that his mortal spouse had left a
number of candles burning. How touching of her to keep them
from returning in the darkness.

Hesitating at the bedchamber's door, Kanae leaned against
the stone wall as she kept her gaze of deepest emerald upon
her husband's magnificent form; that shade of red his tunic
was certainly went well with his unusual coloring. How much
she loved him -- though sometimes, like just moments passed,
she feared him in equal measure. Though she'd like to just
return to bed and snuggle up against him, she was hesitant
in disturbing him when it was obvious his attention was
elsewhere.

Akio walked over to a low table against the chamber's wall.
In the light of the candles sitting there on the surface of
the piece of oaken furniture, the dusky-skinned lord reached
out and picked up the brooch sitting there. The metal was
dark, like tarnished silver, and the stones ringing the edge
as well as the cross of heart-shaped gems in the center --
points facing outwards toward the edge -- were as black as
jet. A dark reflection of the Champion's brooch, Akio could
see that the one he held seemed to thrum with power. He
grinned then, an expression that didn't quite reach his
emerald green eyes. "At last," he softly murmured, staring
into the black depths of the heart-shaped stones.

Ah, yes. This made many things different. Time to rethink
his plans.
________________
Opening his eyes, Touga sat there for a moment still lost in
the wonder of it all. In the back of his mind, he could
sense in what direction the stone gate lay from where he was
now, and he idly mused upon the possibility of being able to
always tell where that object was. (And the tender . . .
She was the same as in my dream . . .)

"Touga? My lord? Are you all right?"

The gentle, but worried, voice of the lowlander broke
through his thoughts. Blinking, he turned his attention to
the rose-haired maiden and gave her a reassuring smile.
"I'm fine, my lady." Recalling the kiss of the dark-haired
Fey on his hand, he slowly raised the injured member and
glanced at it. "More than fine," he softly added, low voice
holding a note of astonishment.

The puncture wounds were gone. Blood still stained his hand
both front and back, showing where he had driven the pin
through the flesh, but of the holes themselves, they were
gone. A startled expression on his face, he held his hand
out for Utena to see for herself. Blinking, Utena dipped
her finger in the salted water in the silver dish, then
wiped the wet finger over the bloodstain. Underneath, the
skin was whole, healed. "Amazing," she commented. Lifting
her aquamarine gaze to meet his once more, she asked, "What
about the leg?"

"The leg?" he echoed, startled. Abruptly curious, he
tentatively moved the limb in question -- and felt no twinge
of pain save for a sharp pull where the stitches were.
Glancing at his companion a moment, he pushed up from the
chair and stood, then took a couple of steps when he
realized his leg could support his weight. Certainly the
stitches pulled with the movement, but otherwise he could
walk normally once again. "I think she healed everything
amiss with me," he finally ventured, sounding somewhat awed.

"She?" Utena asked, raising her eyebrows in a gesture of
curiosity.

Touga nodded, then settled down in the wooden chair once
more, recounting to the lowlander noble what he saw in those
moments after stabbing himself with the Champion's brooch.
"Even now, I can roughly tell in what direction I must
travel to reach the stone gateway I saw."

"What you saw is what you will find beyond the Rose Gate,"
Utena began, smiling. "The stairs covered by roses, the sea
of flowers that the tender watches over, and the tender
herself. She will be the last one to decide if you are
worthy, for she is the one that holds Love's Honor."

"What happens after that?"

"If she decides you are the one, she will tell you the task
you need to perform to keep my promise from long ago. After
that, then all you must do is defend the ideals of Amor and
be the incarnation of the power of the Champion." Suddenly
finding herself yawning and quickly covering her mouth with
a hand, Utena paused, then gave the scarlet-maned chieftain
an apologetic smile. "I fear the night is swiftly catching
up to me. Let me dismiss the warding so that I may retire
to bed."

Touga merely nodded his assent. Despite his earlier deep
slumber, he still felt tired; more than likely, the ritual
had depleted him of what energy he had regained by his
sleep. Still finding himself holding the Champion's brooch
in his left hand, he assumed that it was now his to keep
until such a time as he was judged by the Fey beyond the
Rose Gate. Something occurred to him then, and he glanced
up at her. "My lady, since the leg's healed, shouldn't the
stitches come out?"

Utena stifled a soft peal of laughter, leaning over to pick
up the dagger from where it sat on the table. "Of course,
my lord," she answered, slender fingers curling around the
grip. "All that's needed is a steady hand, a sharp knife
and a bit of brute force, as you well know."

The Red Tyger did know, having learned something of first
aid in regards to dealing with wounds caused by training and
battle. Come the next time he had occasion to remove his
trews from his thighs, he would deal with the thread
himself.

Still smiling, the rose-haired maiden turned and faced the
mystic dome that protected them both. With a murmured
thanks to the Elements involved and a statement affirming
that they were once more within the here and now, Utena
slashed the steel blade of her dagger through the faintly
glowing energy. In a heartbeat, the power was no more,
allowing the two within to once again to walk about as they
wished. Sheathing her weapon, the young noblewoman looked
over her shoulder long enough to give her companion a joyful
smile. On the morrow, they could return to Kiryuu Keep. So
close now was a chance to finally fulfill her quest.

The highland chieftain returned her smile, hand still curled
around the faintly glimmering piece of jewelry. A brief
exchange of good wishes for pleasant dreams, and she walked
off; Touga kept his cobalt-blue gaze upon her retreating
form until she was gone from sight. Then he glanced down
once more to the object he held. If this was what Ohtori
was after, he would certainly do his best to defend it.

To fail at that would jeopardize all he held dear.