by JK Ensley
He answered her question with only more passionate kisses.
After he helped her bathe and dress, Varick made their evening meal while Jenevier tended her curls. He helped her into bed and brought her a bowl of the treasured Tissamon fruit she loved so well.
She sighed. “Why are you so good to me?”
“Because, little one, I’m tired of being so bad to you.” He playfully kissed the top of her head. “Now, enough with your ridiculous questions, Milady. Feed our son what it is you both crave. Bask in the delicious sweetness of it while I immerse my thoughts in wicked desires… as I cover your radiant body with lotion.”
She cocked one eyebrow and shot him a wry smile. “Are you saying, all this time, every night when you insisted on applying the lotion… you’ve been harboring secret desires?”
“No, I said wicked desires. They shall not remain secret for much longer.” His flirtatious tone caused her tiny giggles to start. “Do you not remember my passionate oration at the hot springs? Did you think I was only playing with you?”
“I remember it well and often play it over in my mind.” She felt her cheeks flush. “I only assumed my actions after that day had removed the truth from your words.”
“Remove doubt, my love, they are truer today than when first I spoke them.” Varick laughed softly. “Do you recall Vareilious’s reaction to your unashamed openness?”
“Yes. How could I forget? It was as if he’d never seen me naked before.” She chuckled at the thought. “He could barely condemn me, he was stuttering so badly.”
Varick’s hand became firmer as he rubbed the lotion on her back. “I still have dreams of the way you looked, walking back to the springs with only wingtips barely covering your sensuous parts.”
His lips were on the back of her neck before she realized the true passion his memories had brought him.
He lay down behind her and whispered in her ear. “Can I come back to our bed? I wish never to sleep apart from you again.”
“I never asked you to leave our bed. I never wanted you to go.”
“I only went to the other room because I could not bear to lie next to you and not touch you, not caress you, not kiss you. I only left your side because I could not bear to feel your soft body next to me and not be able to make love to you.”
“I denied you none of those things, my Prince,” she whispered. “I longed for your passions to return to me.”
“You needed time to grieve.” He kissed her ear. “You needed time to heal.”
She didn’t speak. She was lost in bittersweet remembrance.
“What if I hurt you?” he whispered.
“Be gentle with me. But do not deny me your love, ever again.”
“Oh, mine Angel, I feel I may die if I cannot have you,” he confessed.
“It won’t be much longer, sweet Prince. I can feel the nearing fullness of my time. He speaks to me often now.”
“Who speaks to you?”
“The babe.” She smiled and ran the backs of her fingers down the side of his face. “He knows your voice well and jumps within me.”
“So, it’s a boy, then?”
She chuckled. “I know not, not truly.”
Varick curled close behind her, rubbing her tummy. She took his angelic hand, placing it just to the left of her belly button.
“Here, my love. Be still a moment. Now, speak to me.”
“What shall I speak of? I cannot pronounce my love for you any—” He gasped. “Oh.”
“You felt it?”
“Yes. I’ve felt him move many times before, but never in response to me, to my words. Are you certain I caused that?”
“You decide.” She giggled. “Be quiet until he’s still, then speak.”
It was true. Varick was amazed. He spent a long time reveling in the reaction he was receiving from this precious child he would always call his own. The love Jenevier held for the ethereal giant grew as his laughter and joy filled their once sorrowful home.
“I love you, Varick. I love you the way you were always meant to be loved.”
“Your words make me feel like a child, tiny Princess. I want to scream and jump and play. Never have I known such joy. You are mine, Angel. Never part from me again.”
She squeezed the arm that was wrapped gently around her body. “Never, my love.”
“Jenevier?”
“Yes, sweet Prince?”
“I cannot wait for our son’s arrival. Marry me now. Will you be my loving Anicee for all eternity?”
The blissful tears dripping lightly upon her shoulder caused her to turn toward the beautiful sentinel holding her. She ran her fingers through the heavenly gold and silver strands that had fallen across her body.
“I love your hair,” she whispered.
Varick muffled a laugh. “Is that all you love?”
“Tease me not, dear one.” She sniffed. “You named the babe our son.”
“Of course he’s our son. Never believe otherwise. But he is only our first son, we will have many more.” He tenderly kissed her arm.
“I’m trembling inside,” she admitted.
“Speak your fears and see them crushed, Princess.”
“Varick, talk of marriage has been the bearer of dark tidings to me. Everything’s so perfect the way it is. You must know in your heart I want nothing more than to be your eternal Anicee. I believe our union was destined at my birth.”
“No, my love, it was destined at mine,” he whispered. “Fear not. Nothing can reach you here.” He smiled down at her. “God has removed Apollyon from you. And last I checked, you haven’t been going about ripping out innocent hearts. Not as of late.” He winked and kissed her cheek. “Demons cannot enter our gates and you will not leave here. The things of this world can no longer touch you, I won’t let them.”
“I’m already your wife in every way that truly matters,” she whispered.
“Then take my manacle and we’ll forego any ceremony. We don’t need a public proclamation.” He laughed softly. “Everyone knows we belong only to each other. Marry me now, sweetest of Angels.”
She placed her hand over his. “I will deny you nothing. You own every piece of me, you always have.” Tears burned in her eyes. “Would that I could change the mistakes of my youth.”
“I would deny you that wish. The things you deem as mistakes in your heart are the very things that make up the incredible woman I now hold. I realize… I would have suffered through anything to have you as you are now. My perfect love, made only more glorious because of your flaws.”
She smiled at this heavenly man proclaiming his undying love. “How can one so perfect even be real?”
“Perfection can be highly overrated.” He gave her shoulder a soft nudge with his chin then kissed her there. “You’re the proof in those words, my imperfect Angel.”
She took a deep breath and gently touched his cheek. “I wish to marry you now,” she whispered.
His grip upon her tightened, he searched her eyes for doubt or jest, finding only love within. He didn’t break their soul-binding gaze as he removed his glowing manacle, placing it once more upon the only hand it could ever fit.
“I am yours for eternity.” His whispering words tickled her lips.
“Then you shall be cursed with me for all your days, for I am eternally only yours.”
His kiss was warm and firm and consuming. As promised, he was especially gentle with her… and she denied him nothing. She never would again.
“My beautiful Anicee,” he whispered softly near her ear as his exhausted form collapsed beside her.
Blissfully happy and wholly satisfied, sweet sleep was claiming her when a soft purring noise caused her to stir. She raised her heavy lids to behold the flaming eyes and blood colored hair of her beautiful Alzeen. She couldn’t help the gasp that took her breath.
“I desire you more, so much more. Will you deny me?” His kiss burned her skin as fire.
“Never will I deny you even the sma
llest of desires,” she rasped.
The wicked smile adorning his olive face caused her to giggle.
She didn’t even regret the loss of sleep she knew would curse her on the morrow. She gladly held her beautiful Alzeen, the keeper of her shattered heart, all through this most glorious of nights.
This was as near to heaven as she could have possibly hoped for.
Perhaps Fate is done playing with my heart.
Chapter 9
Yui
(YOO-ee)
“The time isn’t right. If I do this thing now, I will win the eternal loathing of the only person I have ever cared about. Give me the journal,” she hissed. “Our deal’s off.”
Musashi stood by the rippling stream, gazing not upon Valencia’s maddened silvery blue eyes. His vision remained fixed upon the glowing perfect moons of Jinn.
“How do you define love, Angel?” he softly asked.
“What are you talking about?” She narrowed her eyes, staring at his handsome profile. “And never… call me Angel… again.”
He turned toward her, then. “I asked you about love. How would you define it?”
She crossed her arms and raised a single eyebrow. “You know not the definition?”
“Do not speak down to me, Guardian. I have no problem defining the word. It’s the feeling I don’t understand.”
“I cannot effectively describe a feeling you’ve never experienced. No one can adequately accomplish such a task. Let me put it to you this way, Ronin. Love is… when the happiness of another being is essential to your own.” She cocked her head to the side. “Now, hand over the journal.”
“It’s in my saddlebag,” he said absently. “There, by the gate.”
Valencia flew off in the direction Musashi had pointed. He stood a moment longer, pondering her words.
After the glowing woman had left his realm, the Emperor made his way back to his borrowed bed—that same bed the strange colorless creature had all but drug him from—and slept once more.
His dreams were dark and conflicting after his ethereal encounter. He tossed most of the night away. When he felt the soft warm body next to him, Musashi instinctively wrapped his arm around it, pulling it close.
Realization sprang his weary eyes open.
Mika was sound asleep, her tiny balled-up fists pressing against his chest, her nose resting upon them. Musashi gazed at the fragile creature he would one day have to destroy, marveling at her complete trust and devotion. He brushed back her raven hair to better see her porcelain skin. Without thought, he gently kissed her forehead. Never had he done such a thing, the natural-feeling act rattled him to the bone. Mika stirred in her sleep, reflexively returning the kind gesture. Her tender kiss fell not upon his forehead, but upon the corner edge of his firmly set, stoic mouth.
Musashi froze as the sleeping girl nuzzled comfortably back into his warm chest. His heart rocked, slipped from its iron axis. A sharp pain sliced cleanly through the hard calluses. He actually felt the tiny tear, felt the exquisitely agonizing incision happen within his darkened, armored heart.
Only now was the mighty Emperor absolutely certain. Yes, there’s no way I can possibly let her live.
Dawn came way too soon. Musashi moaned from the weariness this past night had brought him. Their small group left the village on foot, Yui leading them deep into the Iga forest.
Hinata’s breakfast had been hardy, but Goemon demanded they stop to eat about halfway through their journey.
“You were right, Goemon,” Musashi said.
“About what? Stopping to eat?”
“No, about Mika.” He chuckled. “She is as loud as a bore elk trudging through the leaves.”
“You should try going hunting when she tags along. You’re lucky if you even get to see a snake. She scares everything away,” the boy complained.
Yui spoke not. He had been quiet the whole of their journey.
“Goemon?”
“Yes, Sire?”
Musashi inclined his head toward Yui’s turned back. “Is he always this quiet?”
“Perhaps not this quiet. But he normally doesn’t have a lot to say.” The boy shrugged and went back to eating his dried fruit and wild berries.
“I hear the loveliest of our maidens say he is so beautiful he doesn’t need words,” Mika whispered. “They say his skin is as fair as a woman’s and his lips are as delicious as sweet cakes.” She cautiously glanced at the young man’s stiff back as she continued to speak to the Emperor. “They talk about his eyes as if they were rare gems and they blush when they speak of his body. Only yesterday, I heard a fair maid describing his stomach as—”
“I do not speak when I have nothing of import to say,” Yui interrupted her, brusquely. “Take it not as a sign that I am deaf, Mika,” he said without turning.
The girl quickly bowed her head. “Apologies, Master Yui. Forgive my insolence.”
Musashi couldn’t help but chuckle. Has there ever been a more innocent soul than little Mika’s? “Yui, tell me of this Mikage Abe. Has he been banished from his people?”
“No, Emperor. Mikage lives where and how he chooses. He left the village when I was born. I’ve never asked him his reasoning and he’s never volunteered his intent.”
“Yet you visit him annually?”
“Yes, he is my uncle,” Yui said. “I only wish to know him.”
“Your uncle? So… Orochimaru is your father?”
“Yes, Milord, he is.”
“Yet, only you visit your uncle. You’re the only one who makes this journey?”
“I am,” Yui said with a slight nod.
“And why always on your name day?” Musashi asked.
“Because the boy likes my gifts best. Isn’t that right, Yui?”
The small party turned to the silently approaching man with the flowing white hair and warm friendly smile. He placed his hand upon Yui’s shoulder. “Hello, Yui.”
“Hello, Uncle.”
“What a pleasant surprise to find you all the way out here, and nowhere near your name day. Were you on your way to my home?” Mikage smiled as he looked around at the travelers. “And who are your friends?”
“Yes, Uncle, we were.” Yui motioned with his hand as he introduced the others. “This is Mika and Goemon, from Iga. He’s Hanzo and Hinata’s son.”
The white-haired man interrupted the introductions. “Mika? Apologies, sir. But you don’t look like any Mika I’ve ever seen before.”
“Heh.” The young girl laughed as she materialized with her words. “I’m Mika. He’s Emperor Musashi.”
Mikage gasped. “Ah, an invisible Shinobi. But-but, why were you allowed to live?”
Mika dropped the tiny white flower she’d only just plucked and stared, open mouthed, at the old wizard as she faded away once more.
“Uncle, stop,” Yui warned.
Her soft whimpers brought her trembling form back into view. “What does he mean? What’s he talking about, Yui?”
“Uncle, this is Kira’s daughter.” Yui spoke to Mikage as he took the terrified girl’s hand and patted it gently.
“What? Kira’s…”
“Yes,” Yui said. “When her mother died in childbirth, Hanzo and Hinata took the babe, raising her as their own.”
Mikage’s smile faded. He half sat, half collapsed, upon a large stone as the wind was seemingly forced from his lungs.
Mika crawled into Musashi’s big lap and began crying against his neck. Silence swallowed them as comprehension eluded all but Yui… and the Emperor.
“You were telling it true, Yui.” Musashi spoke as he held the crying girl, trying to comfort her, sooth away her trembling tears. “Only important words find their way from your lips. You have learned to keep many secrets, and keep them well. I shall remember that.” The Emperor turned to the older Shinobi. “So, Mikage Abe, is it?”
Mikage bowed his head. “Apologies, Emperor.”
“Withhold regret. This chance meeting has been a curious revelatio
n for us all.” He looked down at the sniffling girl in his arms. “Am I safe in assuming you knew Mika’s mother… well?” Musashi posed his question with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes, Sire,” Mikage whispered. “I knew her very well.”
“Yui?”
“Yes, Sire?”
“Tell me this. Are you the only one, before today, who knew all the parts to this dramatic play?”
“Yes, Sire, only I,” Yui admitted.
“Hmm. Then correct me where I err.” The Emperor kept his gaze fixed on the aging wizard as he spoke. “Mikage left Iga on the day you were born. And you’re what… perhaps four years older than little Mika, here?” Musashi’s voice was smooth and comforting as he tenderly stroked the crying girl’s long black locks.
“Yes, Milord. But I’m nearly five years older than she.”
“So, even though Orochimaru is your father and Master Mikage’s brother, they haven’t spoken since he left Iga at your birth.” He eyed the old wizard, knowingly.
Mikage didn’t meet his gaze. Silence was his only answer.
“Yui,” Musashi continued. “Why is it I met not your mother during the Iga showing?”
Mika sniffed. “Yui and I are the same. Our mothers left this world when we entered it.”
“Is that so?” Musashi pondered as he stared intently at the white-haired man who seemed lost in nightmarish thought.
The old Shinobi caught the knowing look in Musashi’s eyes and nervously cleared his throat. “Pardon, Sire, but why would our great Emperor travel all this way to visit the humble home of a mere Shinobi hermit?”
“He would seek answers for his musings,” Goemon chirped. “Mika told him you may be able to help and Father said we could come along.”
The two men stared at one another.
“Come, Sire. Give voice to these wandering thoughts and see them forged into action.” Mikage spoke as he stood, motioning with a tilt of his head toward the surrounding trees.
Musashi gently placed Mika on the ground beside him. The two men began talking as they left the little party and walked further into the forest.
“Yui, are you okay?” Mika asked as she moved closer to him.