Author's Notes: Wow, this bed rest must be doing *something* for me.
^_^;;;; *giggles* Who knows, I may pull something really daring and
actually FINISH a fic. Ehehehehe.. or not. ^^; <bounces> Anyway, I won't
take up much more of your time-- I just need to thank everyone who emailed
me with their wonderful comments on 'A View...' Chocolate Mamorus to you
all!

And a special chocolate Ellios for Elysia, she's my utterly amazing beta.
^_~

Oh! One warning: I'm rating this PG-13, since I have the word 'breast' in
here a few times...

DEMANDO: <interested> A few times?
MEREDITH: Yes, three or four times. I didn't really count.
DEMANDO: <leering> So, it's gratuitous, then.
MEREDITH: <whaps Demando> Pervert!

Um, enjoy minna! Please send feedback! I'll love you forever if you do! ^_~
~Meredith

Legal Disclaimer:
(To the tune of 'Jimmy Crack Corn')
Naoko owns Sailor Moon, and I don't care!
Naoko owns Sailor Moon, and I don't care!
Naoko owns Sailor Moon, and I don't care!
My White Prince has to stay...

^^; (Yes, that was pathetic.)

Personal Disclaimer: Crazy, I was crazy one, they put me in a room....


------------------------------------------------------------
The Dark Is Rising: Prelude II
by Meredith Bronwen Mallory
mallorys-girl@cinci.rr.com
------------------------------------------------------------

Ten days, twenty hours and forty-seven minutes.

 The pale, unreal setting sun spilled light through the heavy red drapes
and puddled on the tiled marble floor, waiting for someone to clean it up.
Endymion- who had been staring at it on and off all day- noted that it had
grown considerably smaller since noon. He dodged his own uncreative
thinking patterns and tried to think of it the way Usagi would. It was no
use. Never a man to let something go to waste, he merely added it to his
list of reasons why his Usako had to wake up. With a heavy heart, he gazed
on that well known form imprisoned within the coffin of crystal.

 'You hear me, Usa?' he thought, and rested his head in his hands, 'You
have to wake up so you can explain to me how sunlight evaporates, how magic
happens and how you could possibly get so excited about candy. You have to
wake up so I can kiss you, and so you can laugh at me when I stub my toe in
my haste to get you on the bed.'

 In her own little world, with it's crystal for sky and red satin for
ground, Usagi did not stir. With a heavy sigh, Endymion clasped his hands
and began to wait again, studying the rise and fall of his wife's chest
with careful, desperate interest.

Ten days, twenty hours and- he glanced at the clock- fifty-three minutes.

 Ten days since the world had melted, the water and ice receding from the
devastated lands they had invaded. Ten days since a confused and utterly
disheartened planet had stumbled from a thousand years on ice and stood
blinking in the sun's feverish light. They knew they couldn't pick up where
they left off, couldn't gain that same horrific momentum of the prior time.
In the end, they turned to the Senshi, as Setsuna had said they would; and
they grasped at that new, heroic leadership like children frightened of the
dark, as Setsuna had said they would. So they waited with bated breath,
along with their Senshi and King, for their Queen to awaken.
 In all that time, Usagi never stirred.
 Setsuna had no explanation- indeed, no visible reaction- to that.

 Smiling a bit bitterly, Endymion's gaze trailed over the lines, curves and
sensitive little junctures that composed his wife's body. She was not yet
that image of a white, angelic Empress the world would come to know.
Trapped, sleeping timelessly, Usagi was still that twenty-something college
student Endymion had known a thousand years prior. Ten days and a thousand
years of dreamless black ago, they had hurried down into the basement of
their Azubu apartment building, where they would sleep more than a dozen
lifetimes. How was he to know that was the last time he was to kiss her
(oh, it had been unjustly frantic), the last time she would smile that
trembling, forcefully brave little smile?

 She looked soft in that enormous pink sweater and black pleated skirt, she
looked pale and she looked- dead.
 NO!
 Endymion grasped the fraying ends of his sanity and breathed deeply.
Setsuna-  vague and distant though she'd been since their awakening- had
adamantly assured him that Usagi was not dead.
 Not dead, only sleeping.
 Didn't they put that on headstones, too?

 For one horrific moment, Endymion saw the crystal coffin sitting six feet
deep in the flesh of Earth. It was so terribly transparent, he'd still be
able to see Usagi's pale, betrayed face as they threw the dirt down into
the hole, load after load...

 He stroked the coffin's lid, directly over Usagi's cheek, as if it had
become an extension of his wife's body.
 "You really have to wake up, dear," he said, forcing a laugh, "That
horribly organized mind of mine is running away with me again." No answer,
just the sound of the wind as it moved through the drapes. Looking down at
Usagi's form, curled up like a kitten with her head pillowed on her hands,
Endymion wished for the thousandth time that he might lift the lid and hold
her. But no, Setsuna insisted that it might be dangerous, there was a
chance it could break the enchantment that had preserved Usagi for so long.
Idly, the King wondered just when it was that Usagi had fallen from
enchantment into that deep, impenetrable sleep. A hundred years in? Two
hundred? From that very first moment...

 He glanced at the puddle of sunlight again, noticing that it had lessened
a little more, and cast his gaze out onto the horizon. There were still a
few hours of sunlight left. Suddenly, he glanced down and was startled by
Usagi's paleness, by the contrast of her porcelain skin against the soft,
red satin.
 "I've never seen you this pale," he whispered, "Never..." Endymion looked
around for a moment, feeling just a slight prang of guilt. The coffin sat
upon a small divan, it would be easy to move it out onto the balcony.
There, the sun might penetrate it's faceted glass and caress his wife's
small body. Climbing to his feet, he grasped the cherry-wood headboard and
began to push.
 "What are you doing?" The words were not accusing, not angry or deep or
lilting, but careful and curious. Sailor Mercury, then.  The King turned
and sheepishly ran a hand through his short, twilight hair.
 "Well, that is, I..." his voice was hoarse, and broke just slightly.
Belatedly, he realized he was thirsty. "She's so pale," he said finally, "I
thought maybe I could move her out into the sunlight for a while- take her
back in before I go to bed." Sailor Mercury nodded slowly, moving out of
the threshold and into the room's full light. She surprised Endymion, for a
moment. She seemed saddened, changed and worn down. Then, berating himself
for being so selfish, he realized just how heavily this crisis had to rest
on the Senshi. Still, there was something in Mercury's quicksilver eyes
that seemed... terribly old. Knowing- that was the word he was searching
for.
 Endymion frowned: What then, did she know?

 "It won't do any good," Mercury said at last, her voice a long tone forced
from an unwilling instrument. She said it in such a way that Endymion was
surprised when she moved to help him. The Angel of Intellect smiled weakly,
"You push, I'll pull."
 Together they moved their Queen's coffin out into the sunlight.

 "I wish... I wish I could lift the lid, you know?" Endymion confessed,
leaning his back against the railing, not bothering to study Mercury's
reaction.
 "I understand," from her voice, he could tell she was nodding. The
sapphire Senshi sighed, and there was the sound of swaying fuku skirts as
she moved to place her own gloved hand on the coffin. Quite suddenly, she
looked up and starred Endymion in the eye. Therein lay an iron
purposefulness that hadn't been there prior.
 "I'm not a spell-caster, I'm a doctor," she said, and the King nodded. A
Pediatrician and a Cardiologist had some areas that overlapped. He
respected her medical opinion, viewed her as his peer. Mercury continued,
never moving, "I remember once- during my very first year of practice- I
had a little girl who was brain-dead.

 "She'd fallen of her bike and hit her head. Of course, if she'd been
wearing a helmet she might have been alright- but that wasn't the case. Her
mother brought her in, you see. It was my understanding that she was the
girl's only family. Anyway, we put the little girl on life support, and her
mother would to sit by her bed and hold the little girl's hand. The mother
insisted her daughter was alive, said that if she was breathing and her
heart was beating she just *had* to be alive. Out of sympathy, I kept the
little girl on life support a lot longer than I had to. But, Endymion,"
Mercury's mouth hardened into a thin little line for a moment, "the mother
didn't understand. The little girl died the moment she hit her head. Sure
her heart and lungs worked, but... Endymion, the girl's mind, her *soul*-
they were gone."

 In a rush of horror, Endymion let out the breath he'd been holding and
felt a sudden pain in his palms. He looked down, noticing the damage of
hands clenched so tightly that his nails bit through the skin. In the next
moment, as his mind took in every last detail of what Mercury had said, he
was running towards the coffin, grasping at the lid and leaving bloody
stains.

 "Usa...." he bent forward, seeing the golden girl's chest rise and fall,
knowing her heart beat- but having no proof that her glittering soul was
still anchored to that lithe body.  There came the sound of the red velvet
drapes being lifted and allowed to fall, and raising his head Endymion saw
the image of Setsuna reflected in Mercury's suddenly wide eyes. A sudden,
inexplicable cloud of guilt- that feeling of having been caught- hovered
above both the King and Mercury. He turned, more quickly than he had
intended, to see Setsuna and Senshi Mars looking at him in expectance and
reproach.
 "Your Highness, have you had any dinner at all?" Mars' voice was slightly
accusing, as she already knew the answer. Inwardly, Endymion rolled his
eyes. So it was Mars' turn to force him away from his wife's side. Pity- if
it had been Neptune or Venus he might have begged off food and sleep for a
little more time.
 "No, Rei," Endymion said, shaking his head- feeling the ghost of amusement
as Mars put her hands on her hips.
 "You should rest, Endymion," Setsuna said, her voice was the most steady
he'd heard as of late, "All will be well soon." Surprised, the King turned
his focus to the Angel of Time and did a double take. She was dressed in an
outfit he'd never seen before, a heavy brown blouse over a long black
skirt- she seemed somehow monstrous in the fading light.
 "Are you so certain, Setsuna?" Sailor Mercury's voice was oddly accusing,
and Endymion frowned at her even as he allowed Sailor Mars to lead him
away. Setsuna did not answer immediately, but instead moved closer to the
other Senshi in such a way that Mercury did not hesitate to put Usagi's
coffin between them. However, it was the words Setsuna whispered- so low
that Endymion knew he had not been supposed to hear them- that made him
start. His quick mind raced back over the memories of the last ten days,
reviewing the few times he'd seen Ami and Setsuna interact. The scenes
where shaded with his own ever-present grief,  but in retrospect he saw
something different in the way they approached on another. Suspicion,
righteous anger...

Setsuna whispered lowly, dangerously:
 "Take care, Senshi Mercury. Take care."

=======================


 'We went to Roseland,
 Oh, we went to Roseland,
 We went to Roseland,
 But we never came back!'


 It was an old nursery rhyme, one of the few Nemesis had inherited from
Earth, and it served to fuel the vague unease that had settled around
Demando's shoulders. The White Prince recalled it, slowly, because the
concepts were unfamiliar to him; he knew what a rose was, but had never
seen one. This one, he considered, was preferable to 'London Bridge is
Falling Down', though he remembered his nanny had sung that too. Once, he'd
asked her what London Bridge *was*, but she hadn't known either.



 'London Bridge is falling down...'
 He had the sudden image of complete darkness, separating itself into
shadows.



 The White Prince frowned, not sure what had enticed his mind to such
thoughts, and turned his attention back to the meeting. While he'd been
involved with his own ponderings, the Representative of Reuben had gotten
out of her seat and was now shaking her fist in the face of the Dyborian
Representative. Demando sighed, knowing he should have asked Rhyolite to
the meeting after all-- she knew how to deal with certain representatives,
particularly the difficult Topaz of Reuben.
 "Lady Topaz, please return to your seat," he said icily, annoyed. The
meeting had already gone on an hour more than expected, if this kept up
much longer then Rhyolite would be asleep by the time he returned to her.
 "One would think he wouldn't have to ask that of a Tribe Representative,"
the Lady Dybor -- Aventurine-- crowed, moving her plump lips in a mock
smile, "After all, we aren't in Grammar School, are we?"
 "I wouldn't know," Lady Topaz hissed, looking much like a yellow-brown
cat, "Based on the fact you follow *him*," she waved her hand vaguely at
Demando, "seems to indicate you're stupid enough to be."



 'Falling down, falling down...'
 The uneasiness increased ten-fold, almost physical, moving in his blood.
Demando fought against it without understanding.



 "Oh, the words of the dying Province," Aventurine sneered, "How's it feel
to be closed in, Topaz-sama?" The Dyborian woman raised a delicate,
electric green eyebrow, "Yours is the only Province that hasn't pledged
it's allegiance to Demando-ouji-sama!"
 "Which," Demando prompted himself hurriedly, sensing his opportunity to
jump in, "is why we are here to today." In the background, the White Prince
sensed his brother has risen to take the stand in the center of the room.
Silently, he praised Saffir for always being so prompt. His brother would
be easier to focus on than the squabbling representatives.
 "Exactly," said the Blue Prince, smiling towards his brother as he came to
the fore of the room. "Now, as you all probably know, relations between the
Province of Reuben and the rest of Nemesis are currently operating under
the Treaty of Wide Mountain. However, this treaty is only meant to be
temporary, and it is time that we set more firm boundaries. Especially,"
here Saffir paused, leveling his look with that of Lady Topaz, "since the
Province of Reuben refuses to hand over it's Marked to be trained at the
Center."
 "I object!" Lady Topaz-- predictably-- shouted, "My Province does not
appreciate being pushed up against the wall here. Everyone else in this
*room* has given over their Province to Demando."

 For a brief moment, Saffir closed his eyes, and when he opened them,
Demando saw a type of determination the Blue Prince rarely exhibited. It
was always there, laying beneath the surface, but it showed so little that
sometimes Demando forgot it was there. He kept his smile to himself,
though, thinking that there was every chance Saffir would win at least part
of the fight for them.
 "This is understood," Saffir said, unconsciously shifting in his Center
uniform, "However, your Province has sent its guards. Have you forgotten
that they are standing outside the door?" Laughter rippled through the
room, predominantly quiet and polite (though Demando heard Esmerude's
'giggle' and cringed), but Lady Topaz's face still flamed.
 "I have not forgotten," she spat, "I thought perhaps *you* had."
 "Lady, I assure you, as both the brother of Demando and the Representative
of the Center; you won't be forced into anything. You'll always have a
choice."



 'London Bridge is falling down...'
 Concentration was almost impossible now, no matter how hard Demando
struggled. In his mind, he saw the shadows form a circle and begin to
dance.
 'My fair lady.'



 "Oh, yes," Topaz sneered, cherry brown eyes seeming to glow with her
anger, "Like the Dyborians were given a choice?"
 "Objection!" Aventurine called, pouncing before Topaz had even finished
her sentence. Demando got the feeling she had been lying in wait for such
an opportunity. "The Province of Dybor was also given a choice. We chose
Demando-sama because in this day and age we *need* a unified Nemesis!"
 "Oh, please," the Reubian woman sneered, "The only reason Dybor caved into
Demando was because he married one of your best pilots, who was also-- if
you'll remember-- 'adopted' by the Arch Duke. How many strings do you think
she pulled with 'dear old Dad' in order too-"
 "That is *enough!" Demando shouted, almost jumping at the sound of his own
voice. The enraged words had escaped without him willing them too, but he
was almost grateful. Something... something had almost fallen into place;
the ill ease had almost found a focus. Now, all of that had burned away,
fallen under the anger he felt when anyone criticized Rhyolite. "That is
*quite* enough, Lady Topaz," he said voice frozen in wrath, "You are
stepping out of bounds. I don't care what the Rumor Pages say, this meeting
is not about your filthy gossip. And," he added, feeling the anger freeze
and solidify, "my wife's honor is *not* up for debate here."
 "Oh really?" Topaz smiled, and Demando realized with a dull, throbbing
pain in his mind that she was far from finished, "She's Unmarked, too,
isn't she? How'd you manage to swing that, Demando-sama? Doesn't the Center
have rules about who you're allowed to breed with?" The disgusting, animal
terminology pushed all the wrong buttons on Demando, and he almost moved to
stand before Saffir's voice rang out quietly in the suddenly still chamber.

 "Speaking of the Center," the Blue Prince said calmly, as if nothing were
amiss, "We still don't know *why* the Province of Reuben refuses to hand
over those Marked by the Jakokuzuishou."
 "Saffir-oujisama posses an interesting question," said the small,
mousy-gray Representative of Levitite. She smiled briefly, as though she
realized she was speaking out of turn, but her eyes seemed to say 'And who
*hasn't*?'. "Since it's founding, the Center has been completely neutral to
all Province disputes. It was built in unclaimed territory to avoid such
entanglements. Why then, have you suddenly stopped allowing your Marked
ones to attend?"




 'Take the key and lock her up...'
 The shadows were dancing around something, Demando realized. No matter how
hard he tried to keep himself to the task at hand, his mind seemed drawn
back to the image. He felt somehow that he did not want to look.




 "Why indeed, Lady Topaz?" Saffir's teal blue eyes narrowed, and he tilted
his head as if he alone could hear her answer.
 "Because," the Reubian woman shook her head, her expression almost
genuine, "It's hypocrisy! The original 'colonists' of Nemesis were exiled
from Earth because they were opposed to the Senshi ruling the world. They
said it was wrong for any one person to draw from the energy of a planet
and upset the cosmic balance. The religion of the Cosmic Balance has, by
the way, been abandoned in favor of the Center." Lady Topaz paused for a
moment, and Demando leaned forward, allowing himself a small amount of
admiration for the woman. She would have made an excellent history teacher.
"When the first Marked ones began showing up on Earth, it was theorized
that they were reincarnations from the Silver Millennium, when Nemesis
wasn't an uninhabitable wasteland. Because they were so far away from the
Jakokuzuishou, though, they couldn't draw from its power. They decided that
it would be wrong to do so anyway, since it would drain the planet and go
against everything they had been taught! Don't you see?" her look implored
them, "We're the hypocrites now! The Senshi exiled our ancestors because of
their beliefs, and now we are dishonoring our ancestors by abandoning the
religion that brought us here!"



 'Lock her up...'
 For the briefest moment, the image changed to a view of the White Tower,
silhouetted against the brown sky and its perpetual stars. Warmth spread
through him as he thought of Rhyolite, who must be up there even now, and
he almost succeeded in turning away from the shadows.
 'Lock her up...'
 The White Tower still, but now just the frame of it now, with Rhyolite
sitting in her high room, unable to fly... The uneasiness became full blown
fear, a chill sweeping up against Demando so that for a moment he feared
Rhyolite was...
 That was it; the shadows came back.



 "The Center only teaches Marked Ones to control the power channeled into
them by the Jakokuzuishou," Saffir said, his voice oddly tight. The entire
room seemed submerged in feeling of regret.
 "How long until they start using the power though? It's laid dormant for
centuries, but that doesn't mean *someone* won't decide it's time to truly
forget the Balance of the Cosmos and use the Jakokuzuishou," Lady Topaz
actually seemed anxious, the lines of anger having vanished from around her
mouth. "When we do that, it will make us no better than the damned Senshi
that sent us here!"
 "Do you understand what it means, to be Marked?" Demando asked, trying to
keep the distraction from his voice. "It means being susceptible to the
bizarre wants of a crystalline intelligence. The Jakokuzuishou isn't human,
but it's alive, and we can't understand it's motives. The only way to live
with being Marked is to go to the Center and train."
 "I know," Lady Topaz said, sounding tried, "It's a no win situation. But
if we ever take back Earth..."
 "We are well aware of the Reubians' opinions on Earth," Demando didn't
bother to keep the bored tone from his voice. For the sake of the Japethian
Representative, he added, "And that the Province of Japeth also shares
those views. However, we have carried on for at least an hour over
schedule, and I'm sure we would all like to get home."



 'Take the key and lock her up...'
 Yes, home to Rhyolite, who was small and warm, and, when happy was always
happy with all of her being. Just as when she was sad, she was so with all
of her being.
 Demando could not suppress the shudder now.
 He saw the shadows again, dancing around a golden thing at their center,
killing it as they frolicked. He moved closer, or else they did, and he
could see what it was they were murdering...
 'My fair lady.'



 "You're not going to be able to avoid the issue forever,
Demando-oujisama," said Onyx, the Japethian. Demando saw the other man's
eyes narrow as he looked on his Prince, seemingly wary.
 "I am well aware of that," the White Prince said impatiently, wholly
possessed by the need to go to his wife, place his hand over her heart,
feel it still beating. "I don't intend to avoid the issue at all."
 "Earth needs to be taken back!" Onyx hissed. If the Reubian Representative
was cat-like, Demando thought blandly, then the Japethian was a snake.
"Lady Topaz was right about one thing; the Senshi had no right to exile our
ancestors based on their beliefs."
 "Our ancestors, yes!" Demando fought to calm himself. If he thought
clearly, he could avoid the argument and get to Rhyolite all the more
quickly. "Look, every Nemesisian child is told fairytales of Earth. Yes,
that's where we came from, but why go back when the Senshi are obviously
the major power in the Solar System? Let them have Earth, if they want to
keep it to themselves and choke it. I think its time we stopped living in
the past."
 "Demando-oujisama, your own rearing in Hinnah may have left you less than
spell-bound by Earth, but the Japethians believe..."
 "I am well aware what the Japethians believe, Lord Onyx, and I respect
those beliefs." Demando closed his eyes, whether out of impatience or
weariness, he could not tell. In the next instant, his body rebelled
against the weariness, screaming once more the need to climb those stairs
in the White Tower, rush into Rhyolite's room and...
 He had the sudden, black-burnt feeling that his wife was dead.
 "However," he managed to add, "I am not in the mood to hear those opinions
right now." He raised his hand, as if to wave Onyx out of existence.
Glancing around the room, he saw that the other representatives were
already up, looking restless.
 Demando said, thankfully, "Session dismissed."


-------

 "Onii-san..." Demando felt his brother's presence before the boy spoke. He
turned expectantly, watching the darkened archways to see which set of
shadows Saffir would emerge from. That had been the game when they were
younger, to keep to the shadows, walk inside of them as if they were a
separate corridor, and thus avoid their Aunt's wrath. The light of the
glowlamps along the hall only served to make Saffir look darker when he
revealed himself. "Onii-san, I know you're in a hurry..."
 "It's alright," the White Prince nodded, forcing his muscles from their
tense position. All he needed to do, he reminded himself, was to walk two
flights to the surface, and then the winding staircase... it had never
seemed so far before. He motioned for Saffir to walk with him. "How do you
think we did today?"
 "Very well, actually," Saffir said, and Demando smiled.
 "As did I," he replied, "all the fuss Lady Topaz made was simply a show.
The embargo placed on Reuben by Dybor and Xyon has practically strangled
their economy. It's only their pride that has taken them this long. I
wonder though, if they'll willingly turn over their children to the
Center."
 "They'll have to, if they decide to come under your banner," Saffir
murmured, not without uncertainty.
 "That's the one thing they'll hold out on, I think," the older brother
pointed out, "You saw how worked up Lady Topaz was. I think their Tribunal
shares her opinions."
 "I think it's awful," the Blue Prince said, genuine pity in his voice,
"The children..."
 "Don't remind me," Demando shook his head, "I remember what it was like to
be five and untrained."
 "Me too," Saffir smiled wanly, and Demando knew that it was only because
it was in the past that he could do so. "Worst years of my life." Up ahead,
Demando saw the archway leaning to the surface, and sighed with relief. "Is
something wrong, Onii-san?"
 "I'm just worried about Rhyolite," he replied, uncomfortable with the
admission, "The sooner Reuben signs the triple-damned treaty, the sooner it
will be safe for her to fly again." Saffir was silent for a long time, and
Demando raised a hand to rub his temples, trying to block out the image of
Rhyolite crying when she thought he couldn't see it.
 "Onii-san?" Saffir asked, and by the caution in his tone, Demando knew
what was coming.
 "Yes?"
 "Lord Onyx was right; you aren't going to be able to avoid the issue of
Earth forever," the Blue Prince ran a hand through his hair, lowering his
eyes as if to hide his opinions on the subject. "It's not just Japeth and
Reuben. There are some Terra cults popping up even in Hadasha."
 "I don't understand it sometimes," Demando confessed, "Have they ever been
there? Do they know what trees or grass or water looks like?"
 "No," his brother said softly, "but they've been told stories. And some of
them," he said 'them' in a way that Demando knew he'd wanted to say 'us',
"have studied it."
 "I know you don't agree with me on the subject," Demando said, "And I can
see where you're coming from, maybe. I suppose every child longs for
Earth."
 "I understand, Nii-san," Saffir said, but his tone indicated he didn't.

 The archway loomed before them, and Demando saw his brother smile in an
almost forgiving manner. The Blue Prince began to turn away, before Demando
put a hand on his shoulder.
 "Speaking of Earth, Otouto-chan," he said, turning to piece the question
together. The sight of the stairway fueled the nightmarish images of
Rhyolite, trapped in the shadows' manic circle. "Do you remember..." he
tried to start again, "When we were little, you know how Nanny used to tell
us those nursery rhymes?"
 "I remember," Saffir gave his brother a puzzled look.
 "Well, there were a few Terran ones in the mix, if you recall,"
the White Prince hurried on, "The one about..." he pretended not to
remember, "... a bridge?"
 "London Bridge," his brother said quickly-- so quickly, that Demando felt
his heart clutch in something not-so different from fear.
 "What did it *mean*?"
 "What, the nursery rhyme?" Saffir looked confused, "Well, London Bridge is
a place on Earth, in what used to be called England. But I'm not sure if it
ever really fell..." He frowned, seemingly annoyed that he could not call
the information to mind.
 Demando pressed on, "What about the 'my fair lady' part?"
 "Oh," a look of concentration passed over Saffir's face, "I'm not sure
about that either." He shrugged and smiled as much as he ever did; which
was not much at all, Demando realized suddenly. "It's probably just a
nonsense rhyme."
 "Like the one about Roseland?"
 The Blue Prince shook his head, "I don't remember that one."
 "Something about not coming back," Demando murmured, feeling the hallways
suddenly darker than he liked. He clapped his brother on the back,
"Thanks."
 "Why do you ask?" Saffir inquired, turning away.
 "Oh," Demando said as he began to climb the steps, "no reason."



 During the long climb up the polished white, shadow-drapped stairs of the
Tower, Demando thought of Rhyolite. This was different because, while she
was always a light dancing blithely in the back of his mind, allowing
himself to truly grasp the concept of her was an all consuming experience.
Dimly, he felt as if the fear was racing up the steps ahead of him, teasing
him that it knew more than he, that he must not wait *any* longer, he must
go to her *now*. Already he was almost running up the steps. What was it
now, that made him feel as though her well-known, precious visage was not
waiting for him at the top of the steps?

 He paused, just barely, before the heavily guarded doors that protected
her (though he knew well enough that she needed no protection, not of that
sort). The seconds it took him to wave aside the guards were almost
unbearable, but at last he pushed open the door. Brown light spilled in
through the windows and on to the black marble floor near the bed, but the
bed was empty and Demando spared it only a fleeting glance. The fear was
debilitating and distracting, but Rhyolite gave him purpose, and now that
he was here he felt more in control. The door into her sitting room was
open, occupied by sculpted chairs, but nothing of interest.
 He turned around fully, and saw his wife laying limp on the love seat.
 In a flash, the control was gone.

 He was not sure how he came to be by her side, leaning over her, pressing
his fingers anxiously against her wrists and neck. Relief washed through
him; it was the sound of her stirring in sleep, the rise and fall of her
chest, the pounding of her pulse beneath his finger tips. Demando wanted to
laugh, such was his relief, but he somehow felt that would be
disrespectful.
 "Demando-chan..." he felt the word, the vibration of her neck against his
lips, rather than hearing it. The shiver it sent down his spine was slow,
deliberate, and the shadows withered in its presence. Rhyolite was laughing
now, in that strange way of hers, purring like a pleased kitten as her
dainty fingers moving to tangle in his hair.
 "I tried to wait up for you," she said through a yawn, "I thought you said
I wouldn't be needed at the meeting?"
 "I did," Demando said, stroking his hand, then his lips, along her bare
collar bone. "But the meetings could always use your touch, Lyte," he swept
the straps of her long nightgown from her white shoulders, "even if they
don't deserve it." The last bit was very possessive, he tightened his arms
around her, hearing the cloth of his white suit brush against her skin. It
was only when raised his lips from the delicate tracing of her ear that he
realized she had closed her eyes. Something stabbed through him, then, the
sense that she had left him even while he was holding her.
 "I haven't," she said sweetly, her lips moving into an expression that was
something more than a smile. She raised her eyes, which were blue but so
much more than that, and set her fingers to the task of undoing his jacket.
"I just..." though she never moved her eyes from his, he knew she was
thinking of the window, of the sky she could see through it. His own
fingers played along her shoulder blades, and he thought, not without some
bitterness, that there ought to be wings there.
 "The treaty with Reuben should be signed soon," he said. Somehow, almost
without moving themselves, their position had changed so that his head was
pillowed on her bare breasts. "It will be safe very shortly," he added,
because neither of them ever said the word 'fly', not since... Well, he
didn't like to fight with her.
 "Thank you," she said, in a way that made it seem like so much more than
that. Her hands, smooth, warm palms, came up to trace against *his*
shoulder blades now. The motion was comforting, Demando thought with a lazy
smile. It was as if she wanted wings for him too, as if she would not leave
him.

 Some time later, he wasn't sure how long because the world head narrowed
to her pretty little heart-beat, she spoke again. "We should get to bed,
you know," but it sounded like she didn't want to move.
 "Hai, we should..."
 "Demando-chan," she said with mock severity.
 "I'm moving, I'm moving," he pushed himself up on his hands, smiling down
at her. The expression withered quickly; in the star light she reminded him
of a particularly beautiful caged bird. "Lyte, I'm," his voice was low,
holding more reverence than usual, "I'm..."
 Rhyolite smiled in a way that made him feel even worse for not being able
to say it, "Thank you." Soft, breathless, like the sense of her lying next
to him in the darkness. He shifted so that she might sit up, then took his
place beside her. She stretched, the faded pink nightgown having pooled at
her waist, utterly un-self-conscious. Absently, Demando ran his hand along
her side, tracing the delicate engravings in her skin. The pattern was
delicate, starting at the small of her back and winding its way up,
skirting along the side of her breast, then curving back towards her right
shoulder. It was, she told him, a tradition among Dyborian woman to have
the engravings done, a section for each year of life until they reached
sixteen. The pattern never faded, the procedure was painless, but the way
it was done remained the knowledge of only a few select priestesses. No
pattern was ever the same. The White Prince traced the golden markings,
knowing that each one was a symbol. Lyte had tried to explain it to him
once, in a low, hushed tone, but he was only able to remember one of them.
He found it, along her side, from when she'd decided she wanted to fly; a
single golden line, curling inward and then racing up, like a crazy
shooting star.
 Flight.
 His wife watched him silently, as if trying to channel words through the
place where their bodies touched.




 "You know," Rhyolite said, yawning as she watched Demando walk towards the
bathroom, "I shouldn't be this tired. I got a nice little nap in there,
but... I'm having trouble staying awake now."
 Demando paused in the doorway, "Are you alright?"
 "Probably," she shrugged her shoulders. Her husband looked at her a while
longer, feeling the first talons of fear digging in once more. In the
dizzying light of her presence, he had almost forgotten it completely.
"Don't let me sleep late tomorrow," she instructed, once he'd vanished
behind the door.
 "Oh, and what if *I* want to make sure you sleep late tomorrow?" he called
out, teasing. He heard her laughter as though it had slipped underneath the
door, and it made him hurry.


 When he came back into he bedroom, the glowlamps were off, and Rhyolite
had vanished into the bed. She often teased him, saying she could get lost
in it but, though he knew she was just hiding, it bothered him. Demando
shook his head. In the shadowy corner,  he saw Rhyolite's abandoned tea
tray. The starlight caught only the barest edges of the porcelain, making
it into a menacing half-image. The large, ivory tea pot, two smaller
pitchers and single, empty cup. Emptied of all contents; completely taken
in; gutted. Violet eyes narrowing, the Prince of Nemesis walked towards it,
slowly, as though it was an animal that might pounce or run away. Pounce,
he decided affirmatively. He lifted it quickly, opening the door and
placing it out in the hall to be taken care of.
 For some reason, he felt better having gotten rid of it.


 "Boo!" Rhyolite cried, wrapping her arms around her husband's neck and
pulling him down onto the bed with her. Her mischievous smile was charming,
if a bit sleepy. It melted into half-pout, "What took you so long?"
 "Just cleaning up a bit," he said, toying with her loose, golden locks.
She moved swiftly until she was sitting atop him, golden hair wild about
her face and turned impossible colors by the strange light of Nemesis.
Demando stared up at her, wide eyed and open mouthed, suddenly unable to
think of anything to say. Her brilliant outline hovered before him,
shadowed eyes and mouth, and he thought for a moment that she might vanish.
Of their own accord, his hands moved upward, in supplication or in prayer.
She stilled suddenly, beneath his hands, as if she suddenly needed to
remind her lungs to breathe or her heart to pump. It occurred to him that
she might have been fighting it all evening.
 "Are you alright?" his hands held onto her, but softly, as if she was
asleep and he might wake her.
 "I think so, I..." she nearly lost her balance as she pressed her hands
against her temples, "I have a headache." Her eyes were suddenly very
bright, ""Oh, Demando, I'm sorry! I thought I was feeling better, but..."
 "No," he eased her down beside him, "It's my fault."
 "But I..."
 "You already said you were tired," he smiled lightly. His hands moved
along her body, trying the sooth the sudden pain that had taken root.
Warmth seemed to rise in her skin, welcoming the touch.
 Rhyolite shook her head, protesting weakly, "Wait, I forgot to say my
prayers..."
 "You say them every night," his pressed his lips against her neck, "I'm
sure you can miss just once."
 "I know," she frowned, with great effort, "but still..." Her voice faded
away as Demando cradled with one arm, running his free hand along her neck
to make her chill. It was his common method for banishing her headaches.
She smiled, but he could barely see it in the darkness.
 "I love you, Lyte," he told her.
 Her voice was the sound of rain gathering in the distance, "I love you
too, Demando." For a moment, the whole of her seemed to tense and he
thought she might be in more pain, but then the ivory of her body relaxed
and he was sure she'd fallen asleep.



 Rhyolite suddenly had the impression that she was floating, cool water
caressing her limbs, drawing her down towards something. Has she been an
Earthling, she might have allowed the current to carry her along, rocking
her, towards the sea. But she was a child of Nemesis, and the sudden
sensation of 'water' was frightening. She foundered, trapped; fighting as
her mind opened like a flower. She had never felt water before, or even
seen any that wasn't in pictures. The sensation became a sickening one; all
Rhyolite knew was the rain, which came swiftly and killed slowly, like a
starving animal. The blue liquid she saw in her mind was a trick, she
realized. With that thought came the wild impulse to move, to ran away, but
her body had suddenly become a coffin that refused to obey her commands.
Earlier, she had thought its reluctance to move was a symptom of
exhaustion, but now she saw it for what it was.
 'Move!' she ordered her fingers, her arms, her toes. They lay still,
machines of flesh and bone, almost lifeless. Or else they were muscles in
cages of skin, simply crouched in wait, rebelliously refusing to obey. Her
heart lurched and, beneath the shroud of her eyelids, her eyes widened in
fear. Her mind raced along her vocal chords, trying to find the right keys,
but nothing would respond. The desperate need, not to live but to ensure
that she was not drawn down that current of water, battled in her mind,
trying to move parts of her body she'd never thought about before. How did
her voice work, anyway?
 'Demando!' she wanted to call out, so much so that the tears collected in
her eyes even though she couldn't open them, 'Help me! I don't want to go
back!' She didn't even know what lay down the canal, the instinct was
simply to fight it and go upstream. But she couldn't cry out, the words and
anguish lay decaying in her throat; she was voiceless. She felt Demando's
arm around her, felt his body against her side, and thought, with a bitter
taste in her mouth, of how close he was. Her breath wrecked in her lungs,
once, twice, a deadly third. Now even her mind stilled, anticipating the
fluttering of her lungs, the movement of blood in her veins.
 It suddenly seemed like a millennia between heart-beats.

. . . in . . .

 How had this happened? Anguish colored her mind, as real as her fear.
Rhyolite grabbed desperately at the days events, clawing. Breakfast in the
morning, with Demando, in the twilight darkness. A few hours of her own
time, spent inspecting Saffir's new design for the flyers.

. . . out . . .

 Meetings, all with flustered officials, long into the height of the
'light' hours. Lunch with Gypsum. Daydreaming, longing for flight, as the
illumination vanished from the sky. More meetings, skipping dinner, finally
retiring to her rooms. Midnight supper with...
 Shiori.

. . . in . . .

 "Is something the matter with Gypsum?"
 "Gypsum?" a long, almost forgetful pause, "She wasn't feeling well."
 Rhyolite wanted to sob, weep, scream in the sudden realization of
betrayal. Shiori; garnet eyes guarded, stance uncomfortable.

. . . out . . .

 She suddenly had the disgusting image of herself, small and defenseless,
being sucked through a tube into another container. The picture was
detailed, she could see herself, trapped like an insect. That was where the
current led, down into the ocean and into another set of bones and blood
that moved when she told them too. The knowledge of Shiori, from a strange
and different perspective, lingered just beyond, but Rhyolite fought the
drawing of her soul with all her might. Her "hands" picked along shards of
glass, showing images she did not want to see.
 Shiori's garnet eyes were among them.

. . .    . . .

 Rhyolite almost understood. But she felt the sudden stillness of her
heart, and her last wish was that she had said her prayers.
 Then her heart stopped.

----

 Nemesis turned it's back on the sun, taking only the light of the stars, a
light that cast strange shadows everywhere. Out on the staircase, the dim
illumination avoided a bent figure, allowing the shadows to help the
creature as it curved the borrowed body and picked up the half-full teapot.
Inside the Princess Rhyolite's chambers, the shadows were only slightly
move abundant, falling softly on the couple in bed.

 Demando slept, holding his wife's corpse long into the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


MEREDITH: BWAHAHAHAHA!
DEMANDO: <looking a little dazed> No, wait... that's not fair! I object! I
*strongly object*!
MEREDITH: What's wrong?
DEMANDO: <just LOOKS at Meredith>
MEREDITH: Ehehehehe...
DEMANDO: You know, I think this counts as abuse. I'm leaving! *starts to
leave in a huff*
MEREDITH: Ah, Prince-darling? *points to the fact Demando is chained to the
nightstand*
DEMANDO: -_-;

Email me! Your opinion matters! ... Come on, you know you WANT to email me!
^_~
mallorys-girl@cinci.rr.com <--- subtle hint
mallorys-girl@cinci.rr.com <--- not-so-subtle hint
mallorys-girl@cinci.rr.com <--- blatant annoyance ^_^