"I keep six honest serving-men
(They taught me all I knew);
Their names are What and Why and When
And How and Where and Who."

-Rudyard Kipling, 'The Elephant Child'

Who

The Princess of Mercury was out of her depth.

Oh, but it had seemed like such a good plan when the Queen had suggested it: a gentle instruction to exit the libraries, to go out into the Mercurian sunshine, and to make the important foreign royal feel at home. It had all been so… so logical.

Now the young Princess was a deer caught out in the open. All her vaunted intelligence was powerless to help her – there was no computer she could turn to here, no strategy to plan, no books to consult. There was only one way out.

Curious eyes peered at her from every hidden corner of the palace stables. The bolder hands pointedly cleaned tack or swept the floors in plain view, sneaking glances occasionally when they thought she wasn't looking. She didn't blame them really – they didn't see her very much… or at all. Mercury hadn't stepped foot in the stables for years. The absence had been an entirely voluntary decision, based on a rational allocation of her time, and of course had nothing to do with that first riding attempt a couple of years ago. Mercury only barely kept from sighing at the memory.

I must ask Mother if she will stop amusing her guests with that story.

Her soldier-sharp vision caught the flickering movements of people scrambling for a better view - the hands were not so subtle really – but the hush remained complete. The quiet was unnatural, a small crowd collectively holding its breath, thick enough to cut.

Mercury stifled another sigh.

The head groom, poor soul, was shifting his weight restively from one foot to the other. Bushy eyebrows and craggy brows served to half-hide nervousness, but his anxious fidgeting left no doubt the man was not happy. His fingers clenched and unclenched. Splotchy red drained to pallid white and back again. Had she not been so distracted, Mercury would have felt a deep sympathy for him; he obviously remembered her last riding attempt as well, and would most likely be the one who would pay if she was injured again.

However Mercury was distracted. His fears had to take second place – her mind had her own to deal with. A deep breath was taken. Calming thoughts were contemplated.

I am not a child. I am a soldier. I am prepared.

The horse chose this moment nicker softly at her with a breath that smelt of moist grass, and Mercurian grain. It loomed there, big and brown. Big was a good word for it. Very big. Very brown. Much bigger and browner than expected, actually - static pictures and dry numbers simply didn't do it any justice. More than that though, this creature was moving with subtle twitches and flickers, alive in a way no book could ever have described. Dappled sunlight fell through the wide doors of the stable to light its coat, threads of gold trickling through its mane. Spotless tack beckoned. A sturdy mounting block lay innocently beside it. Mercury supposed she should get on.

With that horrible sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, the little Princess knew that 'should do' and 'ought to' had nothing to do with anything. She was a soldier, a loyal subject, a good daughter. Only one verb construction was possible: 'Would do'. She would get on the creature, and she would like it.

The Princess eyed the horse dubiously. The horse eyed her dubiously back. Liquid brown eyes locked onto icy blue - a challenge laid down, and accepted - man and beast locked into an epic contest of wills. Neither competitor blinked, or moved, or gave an inch.

Into this atmosphere of impending doom, the head groom swallowed, and bravely did his duty.

"M'lady?" His drawled voice reverberated like crushed gravel.

Mercury ignored this in favour of frowning heavily. This is a good plan, she told herself sternly. The Princess of Jupiter loves horses… Mother herself ordered me to take her to the deep craters…yes, that horse is definitely big enough to eat me…

Mercury quickly crushed that last thought. She was not afraid. It was just a horse; Equus ferus caballus – a gentle herbivore long since domesticated. Even more to the point, this particular one (the groom had assured her) was gentle and fright-proof enough for even the least competent rider to successfully master. That included her.

It's now or never.

She edged around the monster, cautiously pausing just next to the groom. If something went wrong, he definitely had a better chance of saving the situation than her. The horse followed her curiously, the long nose bridging air to get a better sniff. Its breath whuffed gently across her face again, before the bulk of the horse danced closer. One hoof pawed the air a few times before it landed back on the flagstones with a businesslike clop. Mercury involuntarily shied back. Ok, so it's very close now… no, don't panic…ok, good, yes, so… how does one get their horse to like them again?

The roughly calloused hand of the groom brushed hers. Into slender fingers a gritty, sticky lump of sugar was slipped.

Oh yes. Mercury thought with relief. Bribery. She solemnly fed the creature the sugar. The horse solemnly ate it. Then it less solemnly went looking for more. Muffled titters broke out as the bay horse fearlessly lipped at short hair, snuffled at pockets, chewed slightly on a sleeve cuff.

The groom once again saved the day by giving the horse a distracted swat. "That's enough o' that." He then smiled encouragingly at his young Princess – although his tension was such that it was more of a grimace, and would have alarmed small children. It was the expression of a man watching his planet's irreplaceable key to political stability about to climb aboard transportation with a mind of its own and no seatbelt.

The stirrup gleamed.

Mercury took a deep breath.

She climbed aboard.

If anything this bold action only seemed to increase the grooms' worry. A few seconds though, and the fleeting terror she'd seen flash across his face faded somewhat as she kept her seat, and the horse remained completely placid. His grip on the lead-line slackened. Half learned lessons from long ago bubbled up in a remarkably well-organised mind. An experimental touch of her knees, a soft huff from the horse, and suddenly they were both moving forward. Tack jingled. Dust danced.

Mercury wasn't paying any particular attention to the tack, or the doors, or the dust. The unfamiliar motion was rocking her back and forth, resonance feeding into her sway, until instinctively her body found the right rhythm to counter it. When she had gathered herself enough to look about, they were both outside, they were still moving forward, and she was still atop the horse. The groom was watching her go, looking cautiously pleased. A gentle sighing followed her, as if a crowd had released a great collective breath of relief. Really, it was all going rather well.

Mercury was feeling pretty pleased with the whole event really, as her horse walked placidly in the dark sunshine. Rock fields stretched away into the distance. Blue eyes admired their elegance's, their bleakness, and she automatically catalogued each mineral as the track wended into the lee of some dunes. The glittering towers of the city disappeared;, an illusion of isolation. A weight lifted from Mercury's shoulders; her mind drifted off. She spent several minutes just dreaming, the motion of the horse soothed into familiarity, warm leather saddle creaking gently. The horse rounded another spur; Mercury was contemplating a particularity interesting crater formation, before a blur of motion caught her eye. Then she was too entranced to think much of anything.

Along the basaltic sand, right at the edge of the Pantheon Fossa, a rider was flying. Made small by distance, the lightly-built horse was running freely, its uncropped tail whipping away in the wind; the rider's brown hair was streaming out in an unconscious echo of it. Clinging like a limpet to the horse's back, that rider appeared effortless, absorbing the motion of the horse's stride despite the lack of stirrups or saddle. Faint laughter drifted across the rocky plain, bright and joyful despite the distance. Mercury involuntarily smiled.

Perhaps that figure noticed some small motion from the corner of her eye, but the horse's reckless gallop was brought gradually down to more sensible speeds and the course altered towards Mercury; the later let her own horse come to a natural stop. Clearly the better rider was coming to her – why should she embarrass herself by pretending knowledge she didn't have? Still… Mercury was still young… and only human. Envy coloured her thoughts for a moment as she watched the crisp control displayed by the other soldier - for who else could the rider be but the Princess of Jupiter? That stallion had been slowed to a walk now, and was being allowed to pick its way carefully over a patch of broken rock above the road.

Little things sometimes become important things - in this case it was nothing more than a highly-strung stallion, a treacherous path, and a little chip of loose rock. One stone slid, became two - two bounced and tumbled, unleashing more, together making such a clattering as fit to wake the dead. Rocks spilled across that narrow track in a spray of chips and chunks – scary, but far enough away that any rational creature would simply admire the event.

Such a shame that a horse has never been a rational creature. Skittish, and already upset by the tenseness of its rider, the big bay shied sideways and away from the clearly horse-murdering noise. The Princess of Mercury had just enough presence of mind to feel blank surprise before gravity grabbed her and yanked.

A high-pitched yell split the air. It hadn't come from Mercury – she was to busy lying winded on the ground. The other rider had seen the fall and had quickened her pace, urging her horse down the slope, sending more dust into the still air. Mercury wheezed and coughed, rolling onto her side and glaring through narrowed eyes at her horse. The bay had stopped only a few meters away, calmly snuffling about the rocks, completely calm again. The reigns hung temptingly down towards the ground, taunting. Mercury pulled herself to her feet, slowly. After a very long, exhausting day, she had finally reached her limit.

Enough. Enough! She whirled upon her horse. A quick lunge. An embarrassing miss. A stumbling dance as the animal pranced away. Mercury blushed hotly, mortification mixing with the pain to produce an uncharacteristic, simmering anger.

Those other hoofbeats had stopped with a light thud and a gentle spray of dust, but Mercury didn't trust herself to turn around. There was a charged pause. Booted feet hit sandy ground. A calloused hand lightly touched her shoulder.

"Are you alright?"

Mercury closed her eyes and fought for control. Not her fault. Not her fault.

That husky voice murmured again. Hesitation coloured every word. "You…you took a bit of a fall there."

Mercury's hands clenched into fists. "I'm fine, thank you."

There was another slight pause and the hand drew back. "Would you like… should I go get the horse?"

"No."

There was the sound of shuffling feet. "…It's… it's a bit tricky if you don't know what you're doing… it's no…"

"I told you I'm fine!" Mercury turned, fire in her eyes, and got a look at her new comrade for the first time – but alas, not for long. Jupiter had recoiled as if slapped. Hurt bloomed deep in jade green eyes.

"Right… well, I'll just…" Jupiter backed away carefully, towards her stallion.

Guilt deflated Mercury's anger like a pricked balloon. "No, wait, I mean…!"

"No, no… " Jupiter waved her hands anxiously. "I'll just… sorry to bother."

With a flash of brown, the other Princess leapt onto her steed and was gone.

Mercury watched her go.

"Not you." She murmured sadly. "Not you."

She was still sitting there when the grooms found her four hours later.

Disclaimer: Sailor Moon isn't mine in any shape, way, or form... and nor is Kipling.

Authors Note: Part one down. Five more questions to go. If anyone's got any ideas they'd like to see, I'm receptive (although I've got it pretty well roughed out). Flick me a message.

OH! And before you go... boy would I appreciate you singing out if you've got any thoughts, corrections, criticisms… even random nonsequential statements are magical.

Finally - this (utterly unworthy) story is dedicated to the rather excellent person who suggested I write something again: the MadHattess. This writer also generously gave her time to Beta this silly thing – and she did a fantastic job. It goes without saying that any mistakes you find subsequently are entirely mine.

Thanks Taz – not just for this, but for everything. Words aren't enough.

This message is if you're NOT the MadHattess, and you haven't read anything by her: AAAARRRRGGGHH! You're wasting time here when you should be there! … AAAARRRRGGGHH!