"Robyn, Duke of Amber" I originally posted this on the 14th on the fan-fiction list but decided to tweak it a little and re-post it here... As you can guess I spent that particulair holliday watching Marmalade Boy with a few friends as opposed to a (blea!) "special someone." Neil The One Remembered. a Sailor Moon Valentine by Robyn, Duke of Amber Outside snow was falling, fine flakes covering the ground like another fine sprinkling of icing sugar on an already rich desert or fancy treat. The snow which had fallen in the last few days had not been much and most of it had already melted but she had sprinkled seeds and bread-crumbs out for the birds. They didn't seem to mind the extra treats and she found their anics amusing as they chirped and squabbled outside her bedroom window. She sighed.... It was almost time to think about heading to school. If only she could slow down time: Somehow, make the morning last a little longer without actually doing ANYTHING. Just the morning. Not the day. Not this day. It was so stupid, all of it...chocolate, cards, gifts, all of it. It wasn't like it was something to really jump up and down over. A stupid day based on two things 1) a tradition that was far removed from normal custom based in some cloudy way on the religion of another land and 2) An excuse for confectioners to wring even more money out of sweet-loving people. It certainly wasn't as much fun as flying carp streamers, or even moon-viewing. Moon-viewing.... she looked at the clock on her dressing table. If she was Usagi she would be almost awake about now. Usagi. Usagi was part of the problem. No. She frowned and her reflection frowned back at her. Usagi wasn't a problem at all. It was what Usagi represented when she wasn't being a fluff-head - Actually even then. She smiled recalling the other girl's antics. That one. Now there was somebody you would never hear the phrase "There's a girl with her head screwed on straight." about. Usagi was anything but that. But she loved. She had a simple trust in human nature and always seemed to believe the best in someone - or at least tried to. This had led Usagi (and the rest of her friends) into some dangerous predicaments - and some fun ones as well. No, it wasn't Usagi, but it did involve her. She picked up the tortoiseshell brush - The one she faintly remembered her mother once using (that memory like the others slipping, slipping away) and began to use it. Time passed and 100 strokes later. She ran the brush once more final time through her hair. She liked that feeling...the glide of the bristles they separated and straightened her hair - the almost-prickle when they faintly grazed her scalp. In last months "Home Magazine" she had read something about the feeling actually being good for you - a sort of home acupuncture treatment. Looking in the mirror she gave herself an appraisal born of white morning light. Her rich chestnut hair hung about her head like a dark honeyed halo. Wisps and ringlets curled to frame her face. On the right side of her face, just peeking out from a swirl of hair the pink of an earlobe and the carved rose of an ear ring. She hardly ever took them out now-only at night, and putting them on was usually the first thing she did upon waking. Her hair had grown in the last year and she had taken to tying it back with a ribbon. She had also somewhere picked up the habit of absently nibbling on one of the strands which always seemed to free itself. Letting it cascade about her as she did now it seemed to both soften her features and give her a certain venerability. This look along with the evident and ample curves of her form bespoke a sensuality which she considered fine when she was alone but made her nervous outside in public. She had developed early and this had caused her to walk in a stoop-shoulderd crouch for almost a year until she had, with firm practice and determination developed a free-ranging arm-swinging stride which had much of the same effect without calling attention to itself. Was she pretty? Pretty violent she snorted softly to herself. That's the only things people saw when they looked at her. That's what boys saw when they looked at her. Who wanted an aggressive girl who looked like she was going to pick a fight with you? What girl wanted to gossip with her and tell her if a certain boy liked her or not? They were all to worried. She was worried, and she was alone. Except.... Except for a certain dumpling-head who had once been to hungry to be afraid. Except for a Shrine-maiden who wore her skirts jut a little to short. Except for another dumpling head...at least in the brains department who showed up at her house for tea every Sunday rain, snow or shine. Except for two taking cats. Except for another girl who was beginning to walk with a familiar stoop-shoulderd gait a girl who needed a talking to so that she could learn about life while SHE got help with next weeks math test. Except... "Alight." She said aloud. "I get it, I'm not alone...I have a lot of really good friends who I would die for." ("who you did die for." whispered a cold cold voice.) She shook her head rapidly and her hair spun with her, little hisses and pops of static being caused in the process. She looked into the mirror. She looked into her fear. "Who I have died for." She stated in a strong voice. "And would do it again." Her voice fell to a soft whisper now as she looked into her own eyes and wondered at the pain...did others see this or was this something reserved for her? "I wish." She whispered "Oh, I wish...." Without meaning to her hands moved. The upper drawer drawn open. The pictures of mama and papa, death certificates, an old envelope wrinkled and creased. The envelope open. A heart cut from red paper trimmed with lace and care. The words written in a fine strong masculine hand. My Makoto on St.Valentines Day. My love always The name blurred by tears. ___________________________________________________________________________ Nene Nene Nene Nene Nene Nene Nene Nene Nene I met a Lady in the Meads, Full beautiful, a faery's child, Her hair was long, her foot was light And her eyes were wild. J.Keats ________________________________________________________________________ Agent Of Chaos. Robyn, Duke of Amber. Unicorn Knight ****************************************************************************