Dedication: To Yoshi, my dear friend and editor, who I've known ever since I began writing ^^. This story is for you, Yoshi'! Because of all you've done for me, because you like the story (I hope), and because you convinced me to change the ending...thank you so much for everything!
Chapter 1-The Princess and the Pauper
Darrian McKellan paused in the midst of the bustling street as dusk settled, and shadows settled around him, adding an aura of mystery and power that he didn't quite need. He had always been able to win over the people that mattered most to his cause, and tonight would be no different, except for the fact that the stakes would be higher than usual. His sapphire blue eyes glinted in the fading light, and as the movement of the people around him hustled him along, he never once took his eyes off the majestic palace before him. It was his target, his greatest conquest to be had, and Darrian had never lost his wager–yet. Tonight, however, was not the night that he wanted to go down in history, the one during which he would level the palace and leave unscathed in glorious, limitless victory. Instead, tonight was a desperate, foolhardy mission to save a friend whose value could not be measured. Indeed, Prince Kentan Divine was priceless to Darrian not because of his royal status but because of his friendship.
It had fazed both of them at first, that a prince and a rebel had somehow become friends–best friends. But Kentan had won his trust over so easily, a nearly unimaginable feat, and had never betrayed it. Countless times, his aid and power as the royal heir of Queen Serenitatis Divine had saved a large percentage of the rebel movement. Without his help, it was entirely possible that the rebellion amassed today would never have come so far or perhaps not even have survived. Now it was Darrian's turn to return the favor, and he intended to do it.
He loitered on an emptied street corner, tugging the brim of his black hat over his eyes securely and ignoring the alluring looks from prostitutes and the surly ones from those that considered this their territory. Darrian smiled to himself, a bit nostalgically. Had he continued on his original path, they would probably have jumped to do his bidding or kept far away from him. Until the age of thirteen, he had been on a thief on the streets–and an exceptionally good one at that. Or, he reminded himself, he could have been dead at this age, considering the dangerous life he'd led. He still led one, of course, but the dangers had seemed more immediate when he had been younger, more foolish, and a pickpocket. There was no guarantee that he would have risen to the top through the ranks of those that lived on the streets. His thoughts were sobering, and Darrian shook his head quickly, scattering drops of rain from his hat.
It was lucky, he mused, that his grandfather had taught him some handy tricks he could do with his magik...before he died, that is. Waterproofing was a simple enough working, and it required little concentration and only a small amount of energy. His grandfather had suspected that it took even less out of Darrian, because he had the heritage of water manipulation from his naiad grandmother. Of course, it had been diluted as it passed through his mother and into him, but he had always possessed an affinity for water. Checking the ill-lit numbers of the town hall's clock, he flicked his two of his fingers in a signal of sorts, and a shabbily-dressed man emerged from the shadows cloaking the building with ease. "Andrew," he greeted in a hushed voice, "everything ready?"
"Everything's ready," the blond-haired man confirmed. "All you've got to do is change your clothes, shine your shoes, stroll into that place like you own it, undo the spells concealing the dungeon cell, pick the locks, get him out, redo those spells, and get both of you out safely."
He winced. "Thank you. That bolstered my confidence."
Andrew shrugged, brown eyes showing his worry. "Darrian...several of the others aren't sure about this task. They think you should let someone else try it. We can't afford to lose you."
The dark-haired one frowned. "I made it clear that no one would be forced into this. It's a volunteers-only job, and they've got to understand that _no one_ else is capable of undoing those spells!"
"But if you're caught–"
"I won't let Kent die."
"And if you both die?"
Darrian looked past him, straight ahead, and strode forward. Andrew made no move to stop him, long-used to his actions and personality. When Darrian wanted something done right, he did it himself, and the gods help anyone who got in his way.
****~**~****
The newly-named heir of Queen Serenitatis Divine stood before a full-length mirror, smoothing her dress and hair with anxious hands. Numerous maids fluttered nearby, but she ignored them in her preoccupation. Serenitatis Divine was not ready to be queen. She wasn't ready to face all the nobles and visiting diplomats waiting for a glimpse of her. They had never paid her too much attention before. For one thing, she had been fairly young and thus considered unimportant.
For another, highborn women–excepting Queen Serenitatis–were considered good for nothing except marriage, which pretty much equaled alliances and wealth in the form of dowries. Normally, if a lord was looking for a wife for one of his sons, he would take everything about the girl into account. Her beauty might not be the deciding factor, but it definitely wasn't lowest on the scale. The reason that none of them had looked closely at the younger Serenitatis was because of her position, which was unlike any other. It didn't matter how beautiful the princess was. It didn't matter if she was dull, stupid, boring, had bad manners, or couldn't host a party properly. Her mother was queen, and she was the only mortal princess in the land. The other royal house had been wiped out approximately ten years ago; all of its descendants had been hunted down until none were left. If any had escaped notice and death, they had yet to come forth. And because Queen Serenitatis picked the man who would marry her daughter, there was no point in currying that daughter's favor. The queen was considered a good ruler, and she was brilliant–for a woman. She was crafty as a fox, sly as a wolf, and merciless in her dealings with the magik folk, who she was determined to rid her lands of. She would not take her daughter's preference into account. She would do what she thought best for her land.
Serenitatis was just beginning to realize her mother's ruthlessness. She had been very thoroughly ignored for most of her life by the gentility, and she had no wish to be noticed by them now. But now she would be the next queen, because her brother was dead. All she wanted was to mourn him in peace. But she was not given her wish.
Her silvery hair had been styled perfectly by a hairdresser, and it had taken almost the entire afternoon for them to dress and make her up for one little dinner. She wasn't looking forward to the preparations for future events. Her dress was even more elaborate than her hair. It was fancy, but her mother's taste was flawless. The exquisite rolls of cloth that were slightly off her shoulders stayed in place, no matter how determined her attempts were to tug them up to the place were straps would have been, and the double row of pearls shone tranquilly in the light. After the last row of pearls, the skirt was loose and flowing, unrestricted by any stitches. It fell in elegant folds past her delicate white slippers. There were more pearls to the ensemble: three in each of her ears and twelve more on her wrist. Serenitatis glared at her reflection in the mirror, and she felt a little better after marring her appearance.
Unfortunately, at that moment, her temporary relief was ruined quiet address and curtsey of a maid. She frowned momentarily: before she had been named heir, Serenitatis had been familiar with the servants and common folk in the castle, since no one else paid her much attention, besides her numerous tutors. And Kentan...her eyes filled, but she brushed away the tears quickly. Ever since her mother had announced that she would be the future queen, most of her relationships with the people who worked for and around her had changed. They had stopped talking to her, unless the situation warranted it, and their easy, relaxed manner had given way to deferential respect. Serenitatis felt like screaming whenever she was confronted by these changes. "I'm still the same," she wanted to tell them, "I'm just the way I always used to be. I don't care about being called ‘your highness' or watching people grovel like they're afraid of me." But she didn't say anything, for fear of making them more uncomfortable than they already felt, but it saddened her.
"Your highness...if you don't hurry, you'll be late, and the queen was specific in her orders that you must not be late!"
Serenitatis blanched as she glanced outside the window; the sun had gone nearly all the way down. Disregarding the cries of alarm from the women around her, she gathered up her skirt in unladylike handfuls and swished her way rapidly out of her suite of rooms and through the hallways. Just before she reached the entrance to the dining hall, a wisp of black cloth around the corner caught her eye. Her brow crinkled in confusion. None of the servants had black livery, and no one was allowed into the castle after sundown. All the folk who lived in town left before the humongous iron gates were closed. All the guests would be in the hall by now, and surely none of them would have been so rude as to roam about alone. Hitching her skirts up a little higher (after making sure no one else was around), she crept around the corner after the unidentified intruder. She caught another glimpse of the person turning around yet another corner, and she bit her lip as she determined the path they were taking...they would end up in the dungeons. It was then that she decided to try and stop the unknown, black-garbed trespasser. "Excuse me, sir," she began in what she hoped was a commanding tone...
****~**~****
He had been having an easy time of it so far. As the townsfolk who worked in the castle or had errands there streamed out of the large central and side gates, he had slipped in without being noticed in the large crowd. Pressing against buildings in the escalating darkness had been an extra precaution, and the guards had changed shifts without noticing his well-disguised presence. He had changed into fine black clothing, stolen off an unwary noble whom Darrian and his friends deemed as having such a large wardrobe that he would not miss this outfit, in case he was noticed and questioned. Guards were always nervous around nobility, and they would not dare accost him. He had even been able to get past the large, well-guarded entrance to a hall were many well-dressed, arrogant-looking men and women were seated and chattering quietly amongst themselves.
But then a quiet voice behind him had startled him, and he whirled around, dagger draw. He had not dared to carry anything large than that, as a bow or sword would have been hard–nearly impossible–to conceal. His searching eyes met the frightened, light blue ones of a young noble maiden, gowned in white, with her hair done up in two round balls with streamers of silver-blond hair trailing down past her knees. An oath left his lips as she regarded him with a mixture of fear and curiosity. Hostages were not supposed to show up before the deed was done. It was too early! Everything would be ruined by this little slip of a girl, the typical, gently-reared young lady who had nothing between her ears but air.
While his mind was rebelling against the injustices that fate set in the way of an already impossible task, Serenitatis had regained her ability of speech and most of her bravado. "Who are you, and what are you doing down here?" she demanded, putting her small hands on her hips.
Darrian blinked at her. Who did she think she was, talking as if she owned the place? She had no right to be here. Then again, neither did he. "My name is my business, and so are my whereabouts. I might ask the same of you, little girl."
Her eyes flared with indignation. The top of her head barely came up to the high rise of his shoulder, but she would show him exactly how little she was. She took a step closer to him, eyes fixed on his handsome, chiseled features. She might have appreciated his dark, silky hair and deep blue eyes if she hadn't known what a conceited, chauvinistic pig he was. Serenitatis was about to open her mouth, one finger pointed accusingly at his chest (to which her eyes were about level), when he lunged forward suddenly and caught her in his grasp.
She struggled madly, but he was much stronger than her and even more muscular than he looked. One of his hands covered her mouth so tightly she draw her breath well, let alone scream, and the other soon came into the view of her frantic eyes with a vial of transparent aqua liquid. He uncorked it and held it underneath her nose, and before she passed out, the strong vapors made her eyes water. As her eyelids slid slowly shut and her body sagged against his, Darrian re-capped the bottle and tucked it safely into his pocket. Urgently, he tied her wrists and her ankles together, although he would have to take the bonds off her ankles later, since she would need to run with him. Probably with a large number of soldiers in hot pursuit, he thought sourly. After a few seconds of thought, he decided to gag her. When she awoke, it was likely that he would be in a trance, and he didn't want her shooting off her figuratively-enormous mouth again. In truth, her mouth was rather small, her lips pink and delicate.
Darrian sighed as he hefted her light weight into his arms, keeping his knife in easy reach. Her head lolled limply until he cradled it on his shoulder carefully and continued on his way. He didn't notice as a hazy strand of gold power was teased out of him, dangling in midair, close to his heart. From her breast came a corresponding thread of silver, and they met midway and became entwined. Half of the twisted string was absorbed back into him; the other half went to her. Both of them had yet to realize how much their lives would change as a result of what had transpired without their realization.
****~**~****
When she came to, Serenitatis couldn't remember a time when she had been angrier. She definitely did not appreciate being trussed up like a turkey, and she liked being gagged even less. Her eyes bored into Darrian's seated figure menacingly, but he didn't noticed her struggles. She rolled around on the hard stone until she was face down on the cold stone, and her wrists and ankles were chafed raw by the rough cord. She blinked away her tears and lay still at last. It figured that she had to be a girl. And a princess, at that. Good for nothing except marriage. If only she had been taught self-defense, she could have put up more of a fight. She wouldn't have to give in when her mother refused to speak about the death of her brother. She thought about similar things she had been denied while he worked at whatever he was doing.
Gradually, when she was tired of ranting, she began to cast her mind and eyes about for something more interesting to occupy her time. It was then that she finally noticed the sphere of golden light that surrounded him. The circle pulsated slightly, and Serenitatis discovered, with amazement, that it kept time with her own steady heartbeat. She continued to watch silently, not that she could make much noise, wondering what in the world he was doing. Any normal kidnaper or intruder in the palace would have left as soon as possible. If he wasn't after her, precisely, she could guess that he wanted her as a hostage. He should have been dragging her along, forcing her to walk at knife point, searching for whatever he was in the castle for. Instead, he was sitting with crossed legs in front of a blank stone wall. A very boring wall.
She glanced around them, and her eyes widened at the sight of all the prisoners and jailers lying slumped over. Some were snoring, which relieved her fears that they were dead. Serenitatis realized, with a jolt, that he was a magik-wielder. She wondered why it had seemed so natural that he sat there with his power gathered around him, why she hadn't paid it more attention, nearly overlooking it. Then she began to think: Kentan, before his untimely death, had told her a little about the problems between their mother and those that had magik. She had been unable to understand why the queen held a burning hatred against magik and its possessors, and Kentan at the point had not found at why, either. Whether he had found out before he'd died, she didn't know. However, the princess had no time to think much more about the matter.
The gray stretch of stone before her, which had seemed like an ordinary wall, was apparently nothing so innocent: the gold mist around Darrian had flung itself outwards and vanished into the wall, and the rock had begun melting away until it revealed dark iron bars placed so close together that not even the thinnest, starving prisoner could have escaped between them. As it was, she could barely make out the form of the person inside looking up at the entrance to his cell. "Darrian," he greeted emphatically, and Serenitatis's breath caught in her throat. She knew that voice, held it closer to her heart than any other, and she renewed her endeavors to get free with muffled grunts.
****~**~****
Her captor paid her no attention, reaching out eagerly to clasp one of Kentan's outstretched hands. "You managed to get yourself into a fine fix this time, Kent."
The silver-haired man gave him one of his rare grins, mostly from relief, and retorted, "Since you're the one that landed me in here, I figured that you'd be honorable enough to dig me out. I've been waiting for you." He gripped the lock-picking device his friend passed him through the bars eagerly and began to work on the lock. It gave way within a few minutes, and Darrian yanked the door open. Kentan stopped short a few paces out of the cell, and his mouth dropped open as he gazed upon the figure that was nearly writhing on the ground. His eyebrows lifted alarmingly, and he began invoking the mercy of Lareina, the queen among the goddesses.
Darrian felt trepidation creep up on him and hastily explained, "I had to come here to get you myself, Kent, and so we can both get out of here alive, we need a hostage. I just came across her sooner than I thought I'd have to...and Lareina, eh? Figures that you'd call upon a queen..." His voice trailed off as the other flung himself on the ground beside his captive and began untying the bonds as soon as possible. "Kent? What are you doing?? Kent?"
He didn't bother to look as he replied, "Darrian, please tell me you didn't know who she was when you did this. Please. Just say it!! I don't care if you knew!!"
"All right, all right!! I didn't! I still don't have a clue who she is, so could you please tell me already? Why are you untying her?" Darrian watched the scene unfold before him with astonishment, still waiting for his answer: Serenitatis, untied and no longer gagged, threw herself into Kentan's arms with a glad cry, and he hugged her tightly. Slate-gray eyes met Darrian's blue ones as the rebel leader began taking in certain similarities he had not been able to notice before...especially that shimmering, silvery-blond hair color. "No...please, no..." He looked at his friend helplessly.
Quietly, Kentan said, "Darrian, this is my sister. Princess Serenitatis Divine."
"Kent? What's going on? Where were you–I mean, why were you locked up? Who put you here? And who is he?" The look she gave him could have stripped paint, and she still clung tightly to her recently-identified brother.
"Now is not the time for questions."
Darrian nodded emphatically. "Kent, we've got to get out of here, and fast," he said urgently. "Can't we just pretend to drag her through the castle? I mean, I'm really sorry that I had to tie her up and everything, but I didn't know she was your sister."
"That part was obvious," he responded dryly.
"We have to! There's no other choice. Time's running short, and if we stay here any longer, we'll be caught. You'll go back into that nice cage of yours, and nothing will happen to her, but I'll be killed!"
Serenitatis chose that opportune time to cut in, having miraculously regained her composure. "Excuse me? Where are we going? And I have a name, and it's not ‘her.'"
Kentan rounded on her furiously. "‘We' are going nowhere, Seren. You're going to go back to your room or wherever you're supposed to be right now and forget about me. Pretend I'm dead. Forget about everything you just heard. And, especially, forget about him."
She eyed Darrian contemptuously. "Who, him? No problem. It's done already–he doesn't exist. And I can't go back to my room. Mother's probably waiting for there. There was this huge court function tonight, and since everyone thought you were dead...they were supposed to see me as the new heir and everything. I'd have to give her an explanation as to where I was...and it's been almost an hour." Her eyes widened as they both let out streams of the most vulgar curses they knew.
"Kent, please. Listen to her. People will be running down here to search very, very soon. I can hear their boot heels clicking ominously already. Can't we just take her–Serenitatis–and leave?"
His tone was firm as he replied, "No. If she sets foot outside of this castle, I'm staying here."
"You stubborn ass! We're going to die here! You belong in this place, and you're leaving."
She solidified his argument by folding her arms and narrowing her eyes. "Kentan Kynan Divine, I'm not moving until you tell me what's going on! Right now!"
"Deva and Dea*...your middle name's Kynan, Kent?! Why didn't you ever mention it before?
Although I do have to admit that I like the sound of the double-k myself..."
Kentan glowered threateningly at him. "Darrian, if you don't shut up right now, I'm going to reconsider forgiving you for grabbing, accosting, and gagging my sister. And believe me, you haven't seen the last suitor that was too forward about where he was putting hands and too busy to notice that I was standing right behind him. I'll do the same thing to you if you don't–"
"I don't have time to grab another court lady, and you heard her," he added quickly, sweat beads standing out clearly on his forehead.
He ignored him as he turned around to face his incensed sister once more. "Seren, you don't understand the situation. It's dangerous, and we could all die, and I love you. I don't want to risk your life this way. If you leave here with us, Mother is going to kill us both."
She shrugged, tossing her hair back. "She needs an heir, doesn't she? And she's too old to have any more children. The worst she can do is–well–she won't kill us, at any rate."
"This is not a joke!!"
"I never said it was. I'm coming, Kent, whether you like it or not."
He sighed. He should have known it was futile. "One last thing, then. It's very probable that we aren't all going to get out of here. I want you to promise me that you'll obey him, no matter what, if something happens to me."
Serenitatis looked aghast, while Darrian shifted from one foot to the other, looking on with slight interest and much more impatience. "What?!" she squawked, "you want me to listen to that–that nincompoop with an overblown ego?!"
"Hey, I resent that!" he complained mildly, subsiding when the other shot him an evil look.
"Seren. Please."
"Okay, okay. I'll listen to what's-his-name who thinks he's so high-and-mighty and–"
It was his turn to interrupt. "My name is Darrian, your highness. And might I add that–"
"No, you can't," Kentan snapped. "Let's go."
Under his breath, the black-haired one muttered, "Now you're ready to go, are you?"
****~**~****
They ran through the seemingly-endless halls and corridors, and their footsteps, to their ears, pounded perilously loudly on the tiled floors. Each beat of their hearts seemed to increase the danger, each pause for hushed conversation increased their changes of being caught. Darrian led the way, with Serenitatis and then Kentan following close on his heels. Darrian ran in an ungainly fashion, with his dagger ready in one hand, and Kentan had his spare knife. Serenitatis just grabbed her skirts in both hands, hiked them up, and ran as fast as she could in her satiny slippers.
As they rounded a corner, they suddenly came face to face with a group of guardsman. While they stopped, looking puzzled and horrified at seeing the prince who had been presumed dead alive, Kentan grabbed his friend as he was preparing for a fight, jerking his head in the direction he had sent Serenitatis. She scurried down the corridor and was quickly overtaken by Darrian, but her brother stayed solidly behind her. Several similar run-ins with the guards ensued, but they were not able to escape as easily.
The princess was unharmed, and Kentan was mostly let alone, despite the fact that he took a few fighters temporarily out of the action, but Darrian was the logical target for the soldiers: he was the best fighter and therefore the greatest threat, and he also wasn't royal, which meant that battling with him or even killing him wouldn't get hung or their heads chopped off and stuck onto stakes. By the time they had managed to reach the most isolated gate, he was dripping blood from numerous cuts and a large gash on his left cheek, also favoring his left leg. Even Serenitatis confessed that she felt frightened for him, and she had almost openly declared eternal hatred towards him.
Just as Darrian had nearly scaled the wall by the gate, another series of guards converged upon them, in a greater number than was possible to fight off without incurring death. The silvery-haired princess gazed up at him in fear, and Kentan's face was unreadable and blank as he too looked at his longtime friend. He was surprised when Darrian said softly, "Well, Kent? What do you say?"
He took a deep breath and spent a few precious seconds staring intently at his sister, as if memorizing her features. Then he grasped the hand Darrian reached down...and let it go after a firm hold. "Thank you for trying, Darr. I should have known it was hopeless from the start, and I shouldn't have depended so much on the chance that you would do this–but you're an invaluable friend, Darrian. Thanks for the attempt."
The black-haired young man went completely still, his form immobile in the moonlight.
Serenitatis, on the other hand, was much more vocal. "No! Kent, what are you doing? Of course we can get out of here. Just hurry up, and we'll all make it."
"No," he repeated quietly, "no, we can't. They'll come after us, and I'll stay here and detain them as long as I can. They won't hurt me, Seren. If the queen wanted me dead, she wouldn't have imprisoned me." He moved swiftly, lifting her struggling, protesting person up into Darrian's capable hands. "Take care of her for me, Darr. Don't try again. I love you, Seren. Remember that, in case we don't–"
"NO!!" she screamed, fighting Darrian's hold–once again–to get back to her brother. At Kentan's curt nod, however, they both disappeared into the night, over the wall, and he was left alone among the crowd of troops that pressed closer to him, waving their weapons threatening. He smiled grimly and began attacking them, incapacitating as many as he could so there would be less to go after Darrian and Serenitatis. This time, his mother would surely take more drastic measures, and he would live out his life with as much rebellion, risk, and freedom as possible...as long as he had it.
****~**~****
Twenty minutes from the castle, with guards in hot pursuit not too far away, Darrian finally set the squirming princess on the ground none too gently and spoke brusquely to her. "Listen to me right now, Serenitatis. Your brother trusted me enough to put you in my care, and he's told me repeatedly that you are the most important person to him. At this moment, he's probably on his way to the dungeons again–or something worse. It would be very helpful if you made an effort to save your own life, since he basically gave his for us. If you still want to waste his life and yours, then I'm bound to stand here and wait for the soldiers with you, and I will not be a happy person. Neither will Kent, when or if he finds out. So tell me right now, while we still have time to get away if you choose, what you want to do."
She looked at the ground, close to tears, and scuffed a muddy, soaked slipper. The rain had stopped, but it had resulted in several large mud puddles that they had splashed through, much to the detriment of her clothing. She nodded, and Darrian nearly lost his temper again.
"What? What do you want?! Yes, you want to stand here on the street, or yes, you want to go?!"
Her head snapped up, and in spite of the tears that made her eyes bright and lucid, her crystal blue eyes were fierce. "Yes, I'll go. Just run! I'll keep up! I'll do whatever you want, all right? Just–just..." Her voice trailed off as tears began to run from her eyes again, and he felt a wave of guilt and sympathy sweep over him.
He was saddled with a spoiled princess who had never been outside the castle in her life, and while he might not like it, he didn't have much of choice, and he owed Kentan. They were in a rush, but he could have spoken less harshly, taken her feelings into account. But then again, Darrian couldn't really put himself into her shoes–or slippers–having led a much different life, knowing none of the frivolous luxury she had. Thus, he could only sympathize and not empathize. He cleared his throat, took her hand...and began running again when he glimpsed the telltale shimmer of light upon steel out of the corner of his eye.
At last, after much running and many gulped breaths, he was relieved to find himself on the street where his grandfather's house–now his house, reminded himself bitterly–was. However, Darrian had no intention of leading the queen's men to his concealed house. They might not be able to get in, and they would pass it without really seeing it under most circumstances, but they magik might not work this time if he just strolled in there. They would see, they would realize, and knowledge was dangerous. The queen had several pet mages working for her, and Darrian didn't know if even his grandfather's powerful magik would remain strong under their probes and spells.
Putting on a spurt of extra speed, he made for the forest on the outskirts of the city. His grandfather, who liked nature, had built his house there as a secondary reason–the primary one being that it was safer to get as far away as he could (and still stay in the city to keep an eye on the queen) from the castle. Darrian increased his speed until he swung up onto a sturdy tree branch unexpectedly. He had let go of his charge's hand to grip the branch, but as she paused, panting breathlessly, to look around her, he grabbed her wrists and lifted her up into the damp leaves with him. When Serenitatis would have asked him a question, he put his finger to her lips and listened intently. She drew away quickly but refrained from talking, and after a few more minutes, they heard a group of guards pass by underneath them, confer with another group, and waited until they all departed. Finally, when the area had been quiet for some time, Darrian shook Serenitatis awake–grief and anxiety had exhausted her, and she had dozed off against the sturdy trunk of the tree. He slid down quickly, then reached up to lift her down more gently than he'd swung her up. However, she was tired and unbalanced, and instead of landing gracefully in his arms, she impacted him–hard–and he nearly fell. She blushed hotly, but he merely set her upright and strode off rapidly, expecting her to follow behind. She glared at his back but hastened to catch up.
At last, without further interruptions or mad dashes, they were safely inside the house. Serenitatis had been on her guard for more magical happenings this time, and as Darrian cast her a sideways glance, he noted amazement on her face. Conversationally, he explained, "The reason you didn't quite see the place before is the magik working I've got on it. It doesn't exactly make the house invisible, but it diverts one's attention quite cleverly."
There was an abundance of spare rooms in the house, as several of the rebels–although none of them were there that night–often needed places to sleep when they were on the run or in similar danger. His grandfather had been gifted with enough foresight to realize the future need and had risen the occasion grandly. Of course, the house was not too large–working spells over a large area was harder than working them over a smaller area, of course–but it was large enough for their purposes.
He decided, after a moment's thought, to give her the room next to his, so he would be able to hear if she cried out in the night–or tried to run away. It looked like he was going to be stuck with her for a long time, and he wasn't too happy about the prospect, but he suspected that she would be even less inclined to spend several of her days with him. Darrian smirked to himself: the princess probably held the dreaded beetles and spiders she was frightened of in better regard than she did him. After wringing out his black coat and hat (he had been too busy thinking, planning, and running to keep the water-repelling spells going), he hung them on a nearby chair and turned to Serenitatis, who was half asleep on her feet. "Let's go. There's a spare room you can sleep in."
Although her eyelids drooped with sleep, she asked, "Are you going out?"
He blinked in surprise. "Um...actually, I am."
Her eyes opened wider, and she said sleepily, "I want to go with you."
"What? You can't. You're barely awake as it is, and I've got a long way to do and a lot of errands tonight." Curiously, Darrian questioned, "Why do you want to come, anyway?"
"I don't want to be left alone," she whispered.
He stared at her bowed head for a few minutes, then sighed audibly. "I can't take you with me. But trust me on this–I'll be back by the time you wake up, all right? I promise that I won't leave you any longer than I have to, and I'll never abandon you."
Finally, she nodded her agreement.
Deciding not to give her any more shocks for the night, he made the effort to light a torch (they were kept for those who did not possess magik, and they were more than he would have thought when he had first learned of the resistance movement) to light there way up the spiraling wooden steps. She followed obediently, and when she was finally curled up under the covers in a clean, dry nightgown that had been somehow left in Darrian's possession, he left the house quietly. He was softer than he had ever been before, creeping about and putting on his coat and hat once more, but she knew when he left. From then on, she would always know when he left...or when he was coming to her.
****~**~****
Author's Notes: The beginning of what I fear may be an extremely long story....a couple of things to clarify, in case confusion arises. First, this is not a Usa/Mamo story. Of course, they're in it, and a very important part of the plotline, but I've tried to focus on them and the Shittenou/senshi. Secondly, I know the switch back and forth between two points of view may seem a little...boring. But it won't be the same in each chapter, and every chapter will definitely not be limited to just two main characters. It would just be too uninteresting for me ^.~ I hope the names aren't too hard to grasp, but I've tried to make them familiar with the names we're all accustomed to...the only characters in the first chapter were, of course, Mamoru, Usagi, Andrew/Motoki, and Kunzite.
* Deva and Dea are the twin goddesses and are only supposed to be called upon in the most drastic measures, when two deities are needed to remedy the most dire of situations. I created a pantheon of sorts, because I didn't want to offend anyone's religion by using anything realistic. It will not be too crucial a part of the story!
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