Meeting

Summary: Life is one. OneShot. Kiki – first impressions.

Warning: -

Set: Story-unrelated

Disclaimer: Standards apply.

"Kiki? Come here."

The Vice Commander's voice cuts through the haze of concentration that surrounds her. Kiki has trained herself to react to certain things immediately, and this is one of them.

"Yes, Vice Commander."

The sun beats down heavily onto the courtyard. To her right and left, knights and knights-in-training are sparring using wooden swords and training armor, some even shields and real swords. Kiki's own weapon on her right side is plain and yet precious, the last gift her brother gave her, and it feels like an extension of herself. Filled with her soul, as the old priest who tended to the little chapel of the bastion the knights of Welten called their home always said. Her soft training clothes stick to her body, leather worn down to the point of feeling like velvet during years and years of training.

"This is Kiki, Mylord," the Vice Commander says as she approaches. The tall woman stands next to a group of men. One of them is a knight, Kiki recognizes immediately as her eyes roam the group watchfully. Tall and lean, with dark, strikingly black-and-white hair and a grim expression, and the sword at his side seems like it glows in a dark, golden aura. Two others are common soldiers, dressed in riding gear, bows slung over their shoulders. And the last one is tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in fine, expensive clothes and with light, blue eyes that seem to pierce Kiki as soon as she looks at him. Guardedly, she stares back. Mylord?

The blonde man, to whom the Vice Commander has introduced her, eyes her as curiously as she watches him. A golden signum gleams on the collar of his vest.

"Crown Prince Izana," Kiki says and bows.

The man laughs. "You were right, Vice Commander."

The tall, red-haired woman gives an almost imperceptible nod in Kiki's direction.

"She is our best knight, Mylord."

"Is she." Kiki remains still as the Prince rounds her, looking at her from every angle possible. His knight remains where he is, carefully taking in the entire courtyard. Kiki doubts his eyes miss even the smallest of movements. The Vice Commander stands motionless.

"You are the best swordsman – well, swordswoman, I guess – the knights of Welten have to offer?"

"I surely am not," Kiki answers. "But I am one of the best."

Surprised, the Prince stops, then chuckles. "I think I like you," he said. "I do. Well."

He turns away.

"What do you think, Kiki," he asks, a challenge thrown leisurely over his shoulder. "Would you like to test your abilities against Ran?"

Kiki's gaze flutters towards the dark-haired knight at the Prince's side and catches him watching her. She shrugs.

"Would you like to see me fight him, Mylord?"

"This, actually, is why I came here," he answers.

"You want to see me fight?"

"I want to see you lose."

Of course she loses. Ran is years her senior, more experienced, more trained. And, even more – he is a King's Knight. But she makes it a hard-won victory. Izana, watching them from the side of the courtyard – along with all the other soldiers, squires and knights who had decided watching a sparring match was far more interesting than training – applauds almost carelessly when Ran knocks away her sword and puts his on her collar bone. Kiki freezes.

"The Vice Commander didn't promise too little," he says. "Leave her be, Ran. You fought well, both of you. Now, Kiki. What do you think: Would you like to accompany me to Wistalia in order to serve my family?"

"Whom would I serve, Mylord?"

"You don't suppose you'd serve under me?"

"You already have a knight, Mylord."

He chuckles again. He seems like he cares for nothing, nobody... As if it's just him and no one else, Kiki thinks.

"You're right. I don't need another knight. Ran here makes sure of that. But there is someone else whom I want you to serve. He, though, has a knight already."

"Why do you want me to serve him nevertheless?"

For a second, something different clouds Izana's clear, blue eyes. But when he lifts his head to look at her, his face is clear.

"I think you'd suit him well. What do you say? Will you accompany us to Wistalia?"

The Vice Commander looks at Kiki, her green eyes unreadable. Kiki shifts, knowing she has permission.

"I will."

"Good."

Izana stands, all the soldiers struggling to stand at the same time. "We'll be leaving tomorrow at dawn. Be ready."

He leaves the courtyard, his knight trailing behind him. Just when Kiki thinks he really has the arrogance of royalty, he turns and his blue eyes pierce her lethally.

"Don't fail me."

For the first time, Kiki gets the feeling there are people in the world the Crown Prince cares for more than anything. And that she is about to get to meet one of them.

…

"Wait here."

The steward leaves her in a waiting room bare of any personal decorations. There are two portraits on the wall, one showing the King, one the Queen, and flowers in a vase on a small table. The chairs look comfortable, though, and still she does not attempt to sit.

Odd and odder.

She grew up in a small town, only daughter to the major and his deceased wife, younger sister of a brilliant, kind, loving brother. In a way, she had a protected childhood. Not filled with luxury but with love. This room feels like the exact opposite, even though she guesses it could be worse. Perhaps she just does not like the closeness of the walls… There is a window front leading on the adjacent balcony. The door is open. Taking a deep breath, Kiki steps outside.

With a light thump, a person falls from the sky, gracefully landing right next to her. Her reaction is one she has trained on herself, as well, her sword is almost drawn until she realizes the Castle of Wistalia probably is not the place where people like to see bare weapons drawn by outsiders. The person does not even notice her, though. In a flash he takes off, jumping off the balcony and down onto the grass. Kiki sees a flash of blond and red and listens to soft boots cross the grass until the person disappears behind a pillared corridor, and she wonders whatever just happened. The next person to land next to her is as graceful and light as the first person, but he, at least, has the grace to notice her.

"Wha – Oh, Lady, you startled me!"

A bit older than her, perhaps, with blond hair that darkens to a brown at the roots. A plain, black attire, a sword at his side. When the man rises from his crouch, he is taller than her, and for some reason, he blushes.

"Lady, excuse my impoliteness – have you – I swear he does it only to annoy me – Oh Lords, there he is!"

Kiki turns around just in time to see another flash of red disappear behind a massive tree trunk at the edge of the woods that expand on the castle grounds. The man turns towards her hastily.

"I am so sorry – I – please, if you would –"

And off he is, after his companion. Over the railing in one long, graceful movement, he lands on both his feet and takes off immediately towards the woods. Long strides take him over the grass, around the neatly trimmed edges of flower beds and bushes, and Kiki follows him with her eyes until he disappears in the woods as well.

Strange people live in this castle, she thinks.

"Lady Kiki?"

She does not think she likes this title. She is a knight.

"Lady Kiki, Prince Izana will now meet with you."

The Prince is standing at another open balcony door, almost like the one she has stood on a few minutes ago. He does not turn around when she enters, just waves his hand at her.

"Did you meet him?"

"Whom?"

"Your liege lord."

Blond hair, like Izana, graceful movements and red and golden patterns on his clothes.

"Yes."

"You also met his Knight."

Two-colored hair, a plain sword. Of everything she could have noticed, she noticed this: his sword. If he is like his sword, she thinks, she could like him.

"Yes."

"What do you think?"

"They seemed busy, Mylord."

Izana chuckled. "You mean childish."

She does not answer. Childishness is just one aspect of the things that come to her mind when she tries to connect the Prince in front of her with his younger brother.

There was a smile on his lips when he fled from his Knight.

"Do you still want to be his Knight?"

"Yes."

More than anything.

…

"I am Zen, second Prince of Clarines. Welcome to the Castle, Lady Kiki."

Fifteen years, she thinks, fifteen years and already the air of royalty lies on him in thick clouds. She can see it in the way he moves, in the way he talks: a boy who never had the chance to be a child, who grew up with the expectations placed on him and who shouldered and carried them like the Prince he was.

"Mylord Zen," she says and bows.

"Just Zen is enough."

"Zen." She tests the name. The Knight behind the Prince glares at her.

"This is Mitsuhide," the Prince introduces him. "Don't worry – he's just pouting. He's a sore loser."

"I am certainly not!"

"Yes you are."

"I have served you well, Lord Zen."

"Don't call me that!"

"Of course, if Lord Zen wishes so."

It is not the first time Kiki gets the feeling she is left out. But it is the first time it bothers her. Thos boy intrigues her: he is serious and princely the one moment, the next he is just a boy joking and teasing a friend. There is something between the two of them.

"Mitsuhide, I swear I will tell the head keeper of staff that you watch her from the window every time she works outside…"

"That's a lie!"

"Prove it."

…

Sometimes, she is jealous. Mitsuhide seems he knows exactly where Zen stands.

…

Not a good idea, Kiki thinks as she follows Zen down the paved road and towards the streets of the capital.

"Ah… It's so good to be outside the walls!" Zen sighs, walking in a brisk pace. At least he took his sword, Kiki thinks. At least he didn't sneak off without either her or Mitsuhide noticing.

Mitsuhide.

Mitsuhide will be furious. Zen sent him to saddle the horses. As soon as he noticed the plan of riding into the woods had only been a diversion, he would race to catch up with them. Kiki suspected strongly that Zen was tricking his First Knight only for the sake of it. The grin playing around his lips proved her suspicions right. At least she hadn't been sent away.

"And there we are!"

They pass the massive city walls and immediately are surrounded by the noise of a busy city evening life. Two carriages pass them by, close enough she could have touched them had she extended her hand. Another vehicle follows, dangerously loaded with market goods, cages of birds and two laughing children. A stray dog sniffs her leg. In a corner, two suspicious-looking men are whispering quietly. A woman pulls a screaming child along. Kiki likes cities. But she also likes when Zen is safe and in such an environment, she can't guarantee for anything.

"Let's move towards the Market," she suggests. Less people will be there at this time of the day, and she will have more room to fight. If necessary.

Instead, Zen continues down a small side alley lined with narrow houses. His eyes roam the area watchfully but Kiki knows he isn't looking for threats but rather trying to put together a picture of the city he is prince of. As the sun sinks, the shadows on the walls gain threatening intensity.

With an explosion of splinters, screws and iron bands, the door they just passed explodes towards them.

Without thinking, Kiki grabs for Zen's collar but a piece of wood has hit him unhappily and he goes down without a sound. The same second people tumble from the bar in a dirty, angry mob, not caring for anything and anyone. Without an inkling of an idea what is going on, Kiki just understands this: She has to get to Zen. Who, currently, is in the midst of what seems to be a bar brawl – a bar brawl taken outside the bar. There is little she can do, she realizes in a flash of clarity. She is strong and agile and an extraordinary fighter. But she cannot lift half a dozen grown men, won't be able to stop them from fighting without getting involved herself. And if she is involved she can't help Zen.

The fact that the water bucket stood there probably is coincidence. It serves her well.

Mitsuhide rushes around the corner the second she lifts the bucket and takes aim. It is bad luck she does not only drench the participants of the bar brawl but her Lord and his Knight, as well.

"Zen!"

Of all that has happened, his reaction surprises her most: without even stopping to wonder or to even localize the source of his unwanted shower, the Knight's eyes localize Zen, making him out in the middle of a damaged-looking host of men who are dripping with the same, soap-scented water and blinking owlishly. Zen struggles to stand, while the bar keeper steps out of his door and recognizes the Second Prince.

"Lord Zen! I- how- Lord, I am sorry, this wasn't supposed to happen…"

If the fighters feel any inclination to continue their brawl, it fades when they recognize both Zen and Mitsuhide. They struggle to stand, stammering, stumbling and bowing clumsily, and all the while Mitsuhide wears a face as grim as a thunder-storm, his body tight as a string. His hand is on his sword while Zen smiles graciously, while the men stutter apologies and the barkeeper's daughter offers him a towel shyly. It is the first time Kiki watches Mitsuhide exercise his influence on Zen: he tells him to leave and Zen smiles and bids them farewell. They return to the castle as they are: dripping wet. Mitsuhide does not speak and Zen is silent, as well, and Kiki thinks maybe, maybe, after two months she has reached the point in which Mitsuhide will ask Prince Izana to chose someone else as his partner.

Later that evening Kiki sits in the great study. It's a place she has spent her time in for long strips of time during the last month. It has become comfortable, she thinks. This probably shouldn't have happened. Zen is in his rooms, sulking. Mitsuhide enters the room, his hair still wet from his shower.

"I would do it again," she tells him. She did not do anything wrong, she would have had protected Zen, she does not see why he should blame her. "Just before you say it."

He looks bewildered. "Before I say what?"

"Before you start blaming me."

"Why should I blame you? You protected Zen today when I failed to follow him. Thank you."

And he bows to her. She is shocked into silence. There is nothing but honesty in his eyes.

…

It happens too often.

…

Sometimes she wonders what would have happened hadn't they met the way they had. Maybe she would have gotten to know him as a fellow knight in a war, perhaps they would have fought together without ever knowing. Maybe she would have been chosen as Zen's knight first, or never, perhaps. Sometime a meeting's just a meeting, and sometimes it is a prelude. She wonders when she watches Mitsuhide fight, his sword cutting the air before him in precise, careful and yet powerful strides. She watches him work, his head bent over a stack of papers, dust dancing in the air around him and his golden-and-brown hair gleaming in the sunlight. She watches him laugh with Zen, watches him tease his liege-lord and protect him, watches him watch Zen with an intensity she never would have associated with him. There is something in the way he is that makes him so much older than he is, so much stronger than he should be. He is infinitively beautiful when he does not smile, when he just looks into the distance without blinking, and Kiki knows he sees things she never will and longs for him to share those with her. He seems to live a different life on most of the days and she hates him because he goes where she cannot follow him. They come from different ends of the world, live in different worlds entirely. On some days she wants to extend her hand in order to see whether he is real or not. On those days, she hates him – him and the fact that he is far, far away. On other days he is her best friend, her partner, the person closest to her and the only one who understands what she feels and what she is. On those days they are alike: two knights protecting what is most important to them, determined to rather die than fail.

Kiki once thought she could like him, if he was like his sword.

His sword is more like him.