LOVE'S HONOR

From: diannasilver@hotmail.com (Dianna Silver)

Prelude

The clouds hung darkly over the landscape, their looming black-gray
forms threatening rain.  Two pairs of eyes looked up -- one brilliant
blue, one deepest violet -- and matching expressions of dismay
crossed their young faces.   It was springtime in the highlands, and
that meant swiftly gathering and sometimes violent storms.  That it
had been partly sunny and warmer when they had left the clanhold
didn't mean anything.  They should have kept a better watch on the
weather.

"We really should head home," the violet-eyed youth said, turning his
gaze to his taller, scarlet-haired companion.  "Father will-"

"I'm well aware what Father will do, Saionji," the redheaded boy
responded.  A stiff gust of wind swirled through the clearing, making
the silken strands of both shoulder-length manes -- one wavy, forest
green hair, the other straight and scarlet-red-dance in the wake of
the whistling breeze.  The chief of the Kiryuu Clan would be less
than pleased to have his sons -- one a fosterling, the other his only
begotten male child -- caught out away from the clanhold during what
promised to be one hell of a storm.  "Come on. The horses should be
nearby."

Saionji glanced around.  Though the surrounding light was dimming
fast, the storm cutting off what sun there was in this hour just
before twilight, he could tell that their weapons practice hadn't
taken them too far from the well-worn dirt path that lead first up
the ridge and then down into the glen of Clan Kiryuu.  Thunder and
Lightning, the two rouncies they had ridden, were tethered to trees
just to the side of that earthen path.  Pointing in the general
direction from which he thought they had entered the clearing, the
shorter of the boys asked, "That way, right, Touga?"

"I believe so," the redheaded youth agreed.  Hefting up his blunted
practice sword, the long-legged boy started walking off in the
indicated direction at a swift pace.

"Hey, wait up!" Saionji called out, dashing after his foster
brother.  Overhead, a bright flash of blue-white light illuminated
the forested hillside, a loud rolling peal of thunder echoing over
the glens almost right afterwards.

If Touga heard the other boy's shout, he gave no indication as he
half-strode, half-trotted into the thick underbrush that separated
clearing from trail.  Emerging out of the lush greenery, he scanned
over the area with his brilliant azure gaze, his eyes still adjusting
to the sudden change in illumination.  Though he was looking for the
two rouncies, he thought he saw the flash of something down the trail
a ways, at a place where he knew it curved alongside a short dropoff
to a lake below.  If the horses had pulled their reins loose somehow
and were dashing down toward the lake, he and his foster brother
would be in even more trouble.  Muttering something under his breath,
the tall boy erupted into a sprint, his mane of thick red hair
rippling in the wake of his passage.

"Touga! What are you doing?" Saionji shouted as he ran after his
foster brother.
 ________________

Another branch scratched her face, but she didn't care.  How long
she'd run into the forest didn't matter either.  All that mattered
was somehow getting away from the horrible, aching hollowness she
felt inside.  Stumbling forward, her little body continuing to be
wracked by her sobs and gasps for breath, she barely felt the twinge
as a number of strands of her fine, rose-colored hair were pulled
from her head by the cruel grasp of a bush.

They were gone.  Never again would she see either one of them.  The
finality of that had at last dawned on her, shaking her entire
world.  Mother and father both were no more, leaving her essentially
alone in the world.  How could they have left her like this, all
alone in a strange land?  They had said that they had loved her, that
they would always be there to take care of her.  And now they were
gone.

Lightning flashed; thunder rumbled loud and long.  Startled, the
little girl looked up, noticing the lowering storm for the first
time.  Not that it mattered.  Nothing really mattered anymore.
Pushing on ahead, she did her best to not think about the gathering
storm or the swiftly approaching night.  The forest was a dangerous
place, true enough, but she missed them so much, she didn't mind the
thought of dying.  A moment of fear and pain, and then she'd never be
alone again.  New tears making her large blue eyes shimmer, she
sobbed again and broke into a shambling run.

The ground suddenly gave out from under her; with a sudden thrill of
pure terror, she felt the dirt crumbling under the soles of her
leather shoes.  A shrill little scream sounded from her as she
abruptly felt herself falling.  Then that was cut short as her young
body hit the surface of the cold water, the splash tossing silvery
drops onto the wind-tossed lake.
________________

"Did you hear that?" Touga shouted as he ran toward the place where
the dirt trail skirted along the steep hillside to the lake below.
Another brilliant flash of lightning momentarily blinded him, causing
him to come to a sudden stop.  He was too near the edge to safely
continue without being able to see.

"Hear what?" Saionji yelled back, violet eyes blinking with the
afterimage of the lightning.  Managing to notice that his foster
brother had come to a halt, he dug his feet into the ground to brake
his own forward momentum just as another loud peal of thunder rattled
their location.  And with that came the promised rain, the heavens
opening up with a sudden deluge.

The redheaded boy frowned, certain he had heard someone cry out in
fear.  His eyes adjusted again to the rapidly darkening light, he
scanned along the edge of the road as best he could through the
driving rain.  Something caught his eye and he moved forward, gasping
softly as he realized what it was he was seeing.  The ground had
given way here at the edge, the weight of something causing it to
crumble.  Even as he watched, the pounding rain was making more of
the dirt disappear, washing it away to the lake waiting down below.

"What did you hear?" the green-haired youth asked again, loping up
toward the other boy.

Turning swiftly, Touga hissed at his foster brother, "Careful! The
edge is washing out! Don't get too close!"

"Sorry..." Saionji muttered, scowling a bit.  One glance over at the
area indicated by the other boy and he was instantly contrite.  Touga
was right; the ground there was obviously dangerous.

Azure eyes focused on the treacherous earth, Touga inched his way
closer to the edge.  He couldn't get rid of the feeling that he had
heard someone scream.  The rain plastered his hair to his head, and
ran in thin rivulets down his neck and under his tunic.

"Touga! Don't!" the other boy called out, realizing the redhead's
intent.  If anything should happen to the heir to the clan, Saionji
was sure that he'd be throttled by the Kiryuu for not discouraging
his foster brother from doing something stupid.

"I have to see, Saionji," Touga responded, making his way forward
another step.  Another look to the place where the ground was washing
out reassured him that he wasn't in any immediate danger.  Inwardly
nodding in satisfaction, the boy turned his gaze to the churning
surface of the water below.  Hissing softly, the youth turned and
braced himself.  He didn't care if it was rash or foolish.  In fact,
he gave his choice little thought at all.

Violet eyes widening in horror, Saionji watched as the other boy
deliberately dived off the thirty-foot high elevation.  "Touga!" he
shouted, all to no avail.  The tall, redheaded form disappeared from
sight; only the sound of the pounding rain and another roll of
thunder answered the green-haired youth's shout.
________________

Arms flailing, legs kicking, the little girl fought against the
chilly embrace of the wind-swept liquid.  Even so, she could feel it
making her clothes heavier, weighing her down.  Each movement of her
limbs became progressively weaker as fatigue set in.  She could feel
the rain beating down on her head along with the frantic splashing
her own efforts to keep herself above the surface, the hissing sound
punctuating the noise her flailing was producing.

(Why am I fighting this so?) she suddenly thought.  (If I give up, I
can be with Mommy and Daddy again.  Going on living without them
makes me sick... So tired now anyway...)  Closing her eyes, she
stopped her struggling.  An unnatural calmness filled her as she felt
herself slip under the surface into the icy embrace of the lake.
________________

(Oh god, Father's going to kill me!) Saionji frantically thought,
violet eyes huge in fear.  Standing as near to the edge as he dared,
the heavens continuing to deluge him, his green hair dripping wet and
plastered to his head, the youth stared down the steep embankment and
searched for any sign of the other boy.  Ever since he had become
aware of the fact that he was not a Kiryuu, he had had the dubious
knowledge that his life would be forfeit if ever a member of his
blood clan broke the truce imposed upon them by their loss to Clan
Kiryuu of the blood feud between them.  Originally brought to the
Kuryuu clanhold as a hostage -- the fact that he was called by his
clan name and not by his given name was a taunt, at least in the
beginning, of the fact that he would one day be the Saionji and
leader of a conquered clan -- it had been Touga's idea to claim him
as a foster brother instead.  So true had their friendship been that
the Kiryuu, Touga's father, had reluctantly made Saionji's de facto
foster status legitimate, but never once did the verdant-maned boy
forget that his blood would spill should anyone from Clan Saionji
cross the will of the Kiryuu.

No doubt that the Kiryuu would probably lop off his head in a fit of
rage should he come home with Touga either missing or drowned. There
was still no sign in the rain-spattered lake of the scarlet-haired
heir to the most powerful clan in the immediate area.

Groaning, Saionji tore his violet gaze from the wind-tossed surface
of the water below and scanned down the rain-slicked dirt trail.
From what he recalled, the road continued down the ridge to the
valley in which the lake resided.  Breaking out into a sprint, the
boy headed down the road, careful to stay away from the edge
overlooking the lake.  Maybe Touga had already made it to shore and
was even now waiting for his foster brother at the foot of the cliff-
like embankment?  Clinging to that ray of hope, the youth ran onward.
________________

(Where am I?  Am I in heaven?)

Huge blue eyes looked around, an expression that was as much
bewilderment as fright on the little girl's cherubic face.  Stray
wisps of her rose-colored hair floated around her as she turned a
slow circle, not recognizing anything at all.  There was no
impression of surroundings of any sort, just a mysterious grayness
that loomed around her.  "Mommy?  Daddy?  Are you here?"

Nothing answered her; a profound silence was all of which she was
aware.  Being as brave as possible and holding back a whimper of
terror, the little girl started walking forward in that featureless
place, bright blue gaze darting around for any sign of where she
could be.  "Mommy!  Daddy!"

Up ahead, she suddenly thought she could see something, a brilliant
whiteness in that unrelenting gray.  Tiny feet picking up their pace,
the girl ran forward, wanting to see what that brilliance could be.
It wasn't until she was almost next to it that she realized what it
was she was staring at, and she came to a halt with a gasp.

The whiteness was a bier, a three-foot high rectangle of silvery-gray
veined white marble, the corners and edges of each side decorated
with a carving in high relief of intricately entwined rose canes, the
sculpted stone roses looking to have delicate, almost translucent,
petals.  On top of the stand lay the unmoving form of a man, his
tall, lean, perfectly proportioned body clad in princely clothes of
gold- and ruby-adorned white.  Though his hands were arranged resting
one upon another atop his still chest, the corner of his scarlet-
lined white half-cape hung down over the side of the bier, a splash
of brilliant red against the snowy whiteness of his clothing and the
stone upon which he rested.

Her breath catching in her throat, the rose-haired girl made her way
carefully up to stand next to where the man's head rested against the
cold stone.  He was absolutely beautiful, much as angels were wont to
be, his face -- so still and peaceful in death -- as perfect as the
rest of him.  Silvery hair the palest shade of lavender framed that
gorgeous visage, the strands cut short and feathered along the sides
of his head, the whole only descending as far as the nape of his
neck.  On his right shoulder, an ornate brooch of gold and rubies
fastened his white half-cape to his equally snowy tunic.  Though he
looked like he was sleeping, the little girl somehow knew he was
actually dead; her own existence touched so recently by that specter
made her somewhat familiar with the manifestations of the absence of
life.

(Who is he?) she wondered, part of her drawn toward such a beautiful
sight and another part of her repelled by the presence of death.
Sadness and pity both filled her little heart as she became aware of
death's universal claim; even the angels were susceptible to being
cut down by that eternal blade.

A sound caught her attention, something that seemed to be a faint
moan of pain.  Her melancholy visage turning to one of puzzlement,
the girl looked about herself for the source of the noise.  Further
on, another spot of illumination caught her eye, one that she was
sure wasn't there a moment ago.  Again determined to be brave, the
child walked past the fallen angel, toward the light.

The light was ruddy, the color of blood and danger.  Blue eyes huge,
the girl made her way toward the red radiance.  Within the pool of
color she could see steps leading up to a silhouetted form that
twitched and writhed in agony.  Peering into the light at the figure,
it took her long moments before she realized what it was she was
seeing.  All she could do was stand and stare in horrified dread.

Roses.  Glimmering petals of what looked to be silver and gold
adorned what appeared to be sinister, vine-like canes, their thorns
as large and sharp as small daggers.  The formidable plants were
entwined around the writhing, softly moaning form, every tiny
movement embedding the points of those canes deeper into flayed and
bleeding flesh.  Blood, sweat and tears mixed together into a pitiful
liquid that shimmered like dew on the deceptively beautiful blooms.
The girl being so horribly tortured was every bit as beautiful as the
dead man behind on the white marble bier, her long deep violet hair
curling around her otherwise nude form and entwined within the cruel
vines, her large emerald eyes glazed over in agony.

The rose-haired child gasped, small hands coming up to cover her
mouth. (Who is she?) the girl wondered, unable to comprehend why
anyone would deserve such terrible treatment.

"She is Love," answered a soft voice.

Jumping in startlement, her voice giving off a faint squeak of
surprise, the blue- and white-dressed little girl whirled around,
searching for the source of the words.  "Love?" she repeated, her own
voice sounding tiny and quavering.

"Yes, the spirit of Love," responded the disembodied voice. It
sounded melodious, like that of a youthful man.  "The hatred of the
world binds her, the poison of the thorns make her agony that much
more."

"What-what happened to her?" the girl asked, still looking around.

"Her champion is no more, and without his protection, the hatred of
the world caught her in its grasp."

"Her... champion?"

"The one who lies in eternal sleep was the one sworn to protect her,
to keep her light of hope from fading in the world," the bodiless
voice replied, seemingly coming from everywhere at once.  "But he
grew ill with the effort.  She so loved him that she sacrificed
herself to save him, but she lost him anyway as hatred destroyed
him.  All she has left is her suffering."

Turning to stare up at the writhing girl in the middle of her
deceptively beautiful prison, the little girl's lower lip quivered as
tears puddled up in her large azure eyes.  "Too cruel," she sobbed,
seeing an aching and a suffering far worse than her own.  "Why should
she be hurt when she tried to save her champion?"

"It wasn't her place.  In trying to take up his burden, she neglected
her own, little one," came the answer from the gentle voice.  "She no
longer trusted him, which made him vulnerable to the wiles of hatred.
He was destroyed, and that left her defenseless. Hatred has her in
its grasp, trying now to extinguish the light of Love from the world."

"Too cruel!" the child insisted, suddenly running toward the four-
stepped dais over which the dreadful vision of the rose-entwined girl
hovered.  Tears streaming down her cherubic face, she dashed up the
stairs -- only to find herself suddenly flying backwards as her
little body was stopped by an invisible but immovable force.
Stunned, she laid there a moment, her only thought focused on finding
*some* way of rescuing Love from her horrid imprisonment.

"Only Love's Honor can free her."

Sniffling, the little girl lifted up her rose-colored head.  (Love's
Honor?) she wondered, looking around.

The sudden flash of a ruby glimmer caught her attention and held it.
Hastily wiping her eyes, the child slowly got to her leather-shoed
feet, the red glitter beckoning her onward.  Retracing her steps, her
reddened eyes widened as she saw what was making the shimmering dance
of scarlet light.

She stood now on the other side of the bier, once again looking upon
the dead form of the angelic man who had once been Love's champion.
Lying alongside his white-clad body was the most gorgeous sword she
had ever seen.  The long blade gleamed like the brightest of silver,
the dual edges appearing razor sharp and deadly.  The ornate golden
hilt was decorated with numerous tiny rubies that glittered with a
brilliant fire, the pommelstone being a large ruby cut into a
perfectly smooth sphere and trapped within a golden cage at the apex
of the hilt.  The crosspieces were carved on either side with the
image of two rings linked into the symbol for eternity, while on each
end of the quillions was embedded into the gold an impressive ruby
formed into the shape of a heart.  The sword as a whole faintly
glimmered with a quiescent power that the little girl could almost
see and feel.  Without the voice replying, she somehow knew that the
sword was called Love's Honor, and that that blade was what the voice
meant when it said that Love's Honor could free the suffering spirit.

An abrupt flare of hope filled her.  Maybe that's why she was here,
to take up the sword and save the agonized girl.  Her expression
suddenly determined, the rose-haired child grabbed at the hilt of the
glimmering weapon.  Once again she met with an unseen and unforgiving
force, the resulting shock flinging her little body to the ground and
making her hand sting.  (No! It wasn't fair!)

"Little one, so noble of heart, the sword was not meant for you," the
disembodied voice gravely stated.

"Then who gets it? Who can help her?" the girl sobbed, once again
dissolving into tears at the cruelty of it all.

"A new champion must be found, a man worthy to wield the blade. Only
then can Love be saved."

"I'll become worthy and save her myself!"

"Even if you keep that noble heart, you will one day soon become a
lady.  The sword was not meant for girl nor woman, and to try to
wield it would only compound Love's original mistake."

The child quieted her crying into soft sniffles, almost instantly
contrite.  She wanted to save the other girl, not make things
worse.  "Then I'll find someone worthy of the sword.  I'll see to it
that Love is saved."

"Such a gentle and caring child," murmured the soft voice.  "Should
you retain your kind and noble heart, you may indeed find the one
worthy to be the new champion, though I fear you will forget all
about this place."

"I *won't* forget! I'll find the one to save her!" the little girl
insisted.

There was a long pause, the very atmosphere in that gray and
featureless twilight giving her the impression that something was
being thought over and decided.  Then the quiet voice from seemingly
everywhere at once spoke again.  "Look to the fallen champion.  Do
you see the brooch he wears?"

Big blue eyes looked over the still form of the angelic man, focusing
on the gold and ruby-adorned piece of jewelry that fastened the half-
cape together.  "Yes," she replied, her gaze lingering over the
intricate knotwork around the four heart shaped rubies set into the
golden surface in a cross, their pointed bases all touching in the
center of the design.

"Take the brooch as a memento of this time and place.  Should you
remain as noble and kind a lady as you are now as a girl, then it
will surely lead you back to this place. If you can return here, then
by letting your heart be your guide, you shall find the one that can
free Love from her unending torment."

Swallowing hard in nervousness, tiny fingers reached up and carefully
worked the brooch's fastening loose from the dead man's clothing.
Tugging it from the snowy-white cloth, the rose-haired girl gently
cradled the beautiful piece of jewelry in her hands.

Now she had something for which to live, a reason to continue her
existence.

No longer would she meekly surrender to death.

Her hands tightening around the golden brooch, she turned and looked
back at the weakly struggling form bound tightly by the horrid
roses.  Pain-filled and clouded eyes of purest emerald gazed back at
her, and in that brief moment, the little girl understood what true,
never-ending suffering could actually be.
________________

"Touga!" the verdant-haired youth called out yet again, the sound of
the pouring rain hissing through the lush forest foliage and dimpling
the surface of the wind-rippled lake.  His clothes soaking wet, a
side of his trousers smeared with mud from a slip and fall while he
had been making his way back to the bottom of the cliff from where
his foster brother had dived, Saionji made for a rather pitiful sight
as he fervently searched for any sign of the other boy.  Thunder,
distant now, rumbled across the valley, and he was finding that the
rapidly approaching night was making it hard to make out what was
what in the deepening gloom of the downpour.  (Oh god, what if I
can't find him? What if he's dead?)

A sound caught his attention, one that was out of place from the
music of the surrounding storm.  Breaking out into another sprint,
occasionally slipping on the treacherously thin sliver of ground
between the base of the cliffside and the edge of the large body of
water, Saionji scrambled as swiftly as he dared toward the place
where he was sure that sound had come.

Splashing, more coughing, sounds of what could only be retching and
desperate gasps for air.  Heartened by the noise, the green-haired
youth redoubled his efforts, only to damned near trip over the bodies
when he did finally discover them.  Hidden partially by a thick bush
that filled up the space between cliff and shore, only a faint flash
of deepest scarlet in the dim light and the continued noise alerted
Saionji to his foster brother's presence there.  Coming to an abrupt
halt, the shorter boy cried out, "Are you okay?"

Only more coughing, followed by violent retching, answered the
youth's question.  Peering into the rain-soaked dim light, Saionji
could see that Touga was lying on his side, body gasping for breath.
The sounds were coming from a huddled little form lying just in front
of the Kiryuu heir.  Violet eyes wide, Saionji just stood there,
trying to make sense of the scene.

"Is... she okay?" the scarlet-haired youth finally managed to say
when he had caught his breath.  Considering that the little form was
continuing to violently expel water from her lungs, he thought that
was a good sign for her eventual recovery.

"I'm not sure," Saionji helplessly replied.

Groaning, Touga pulled himself up into a sitting position, opening
his eyes and leaning forward to take a look at the child he had
dragged from the water.  She was a little thing, clad in plain brown
leather shoes, a blue overtunic showing glimpses of a white chemise
underneath.  Though the clothing was waterlogged and more than likely
utterly ruined, he got the sense that they had once been an outfit of
a modest value.  Hearing her breathing beginning to stabilize, he
reached forward and carefully rolled the child onto her back.

From what he could see in the growing twilight, the girl was a pretty
one; her fine mane of hair lay water-slicked against a charming and
noble face.

"Who is she?" Saionji asked, a worried frown settling on his handsome
visage.  He was sure he'd never seen this little girl before in his
life.

"I have no idea," Touga finally responded, the fingers of a hand
brushing a few wet strands from her face.  Shifting himself into a
kneeling position there in the mud, he carefully slid his arms under
the child's body and pulled her into a cradling embrace against his
chest.  "But we can't just leave her out here in this storm."
Hauling himself up into a wide-braced stance, the scarlet-haired boy
looked over at his foster brother.  "Lead the way back to the trail,
Saionji.  We really need to get home before the clan comes looking
for us."

Stiffly nodding, the shorter youth turned and began to carefully pick
his way back along the slippery ground, the deepening darkness making
it hard to see.  Since they hadn't expected to be out past dark,
neither one of them had brought with them anything with which to
light a torch; besides, the storm had swiftly soaked everything, so
had they had firemaking tools, there was nothing available with which
to make a torch of any sort.

"Slowly, Saionji," Touga reminded the other.  "It's getting very hard
to see."

The sensation of strong arms holding her and of being lifted up in
the air roused the little girl.  Opening large azure eyes, it took
her a moment to realize that she could hear and see.  The soft hiss
of rain, the low voices of what sounded like two boys, an angel-like
face framed by soaking wet dark hair... Without knowing why, she felt
safe in those arms.  Relaxing slightly, she became aware of an ache
in her right hand; she knew she held something important, something
she should never lose.  Closing her eyes again in utter exhaustion,
the little girl snuggled against the warmth of the one carrying her
as best she could.

Into the darkness the little progression continued, Saionji slipping
and sliding his way forward, muttering a curse here and there as he
stumbled along back the way he thought he'd come and Touga striding
along behind, carefully testing each step before pulling his weight
on it, his arms full of tired little girl.  When the cliffside began
to change into a steep hill, the green-haired youth actually smiled.
They were almost back to the now-muddy trail that led up and over the
ridge that encircled the glen of Clan Kiryuu.

Voices shouting their names and torchlight in the distance greeted
the two boys as they staggered up along the road.  Once voice in
particular thundered out, making the two groan softly in
apprehension.  Steeling his nerves, Touga called out in reply, "Down
here!"

The sound of hooves came closer; torchlight and the relieved men of
Clan Kiryuu swiftly surrounded them.  Any tongue-lashing the Kiryuu
may have had for his sons died unspoken as his violet-blue eyes
looked down on the sorry sight of the water-soaked boys, the small
form of a much younger child in his redheaded son's arms.

"She fell into the lake, Father," Touga softly explained.  "I
couldn't just let her drown..."

A stern frown on his handsome face, the imposing redheaded man merely
nodded at his son's words.  "Mount up and let's go home," the Kiryuu
ordered.  A gesture to the surrounding men, and a young warrior with
dark brown hair and eyes equally dark brown came forward, Thunder and
Lightning trailing after him by their bridles.

With a cursory nod, Saionji swiftly made his way over to the all-
black Highland pony that was his rouncy.  Putting a foot in the
stirrup, the green-haired youth lifted himself up into the saddle
atop Thunder and then took the reins from the Kiryuu warrior.

Touga walked up to where his father sat astride his impressive
chestnut-colored stallion, not meeting the other's disapproving
stare.  "Could you please hold her?" he softly asked.  "I'd like to
carry her home," he added, once more looking down at the apparently
dozing child.  Something about her, some indefinable quality, made
him want to keep her close and forever protect her from the dangers
of the world.

The only answer he got was feeling his waterlogged burden be taken
from him.  Stepping back from his father, the scarlet-haired boy
strode over to where the Kiryuu warrior continued to hold the snow-
white Highland pony by the reins.  Gracefully mounting the rouncy,
Touga took control of the reins and urged Lightning into a walk, only
stopping when he was once more next to the leader of Clan Kiryuu.
For a long moment, he wondered if his father wouldn't honor his
request; violet-blue eyes stared down at him with a mixture of
emotions Touga couldn't read.  At last, however, the tall redheaded
man lifted up the little form of the girl toward his son.

Lashing the reins around the horn of the leather saddle, Touga
carefully balanced himself and once more pulled the girl into his
arms.  Getting her settled comfortably across his thighs and in his
embrace, Touga looked down at her again.  In the torchlight, he could
see that her cherubic visage held the hint of a promise of future
beauty and that her fine mane of hair was rose pink in color, judging
by the few wisps that had dried and were floating about her face.

The jostling around disturbed the child's uneasy slumber.  Opening
her eyes again, she caught a glimpse again of that handsome face
surrounded by dark red hair, this time clearer now in the dancing
orange-tinged illumination of firelight.  Seeing that she was being
held by the same youth as before, the girl faintly smiled and let
herself drift off to sleep again.  There was something about him that
let her know beyond all doubts that he would keep her safe.

Around him, the Kiryuu and his men turned their horses around and
began riding back up along the rain-washed trail.  Knowing that
Lightning would follow their lead, Touga kept his arms around the
girl and his eyes on her.  He'd noticed her eyes the moment she
opened them, their brilliant blue color truly startling; he let out
the breath he didn't realize he was holding once she snuggled closer
to his warmth and closed those azure orbs once again.  Overcome by
curiosity -- her hair looked amazingly fine and soft to the touch --
he shifted his hold on her and gently ran a hand through her still-
wet hair.  Despite it being soaked, it still felt like the finest of
silks as it slipped between his fingers; the tactile sensation only
added to the child's appeal.  All of his protective instincts aroused
at the sight of her -- so pretty and trusting, sleeping peacefully in
his arms -- Touga silently swore that he would be her protector for
as long as she stayed among Clan Kiryuu.

(To be continued...)

--Dianna Silver
(<a href="http://www.diasilv.com/garden/garden.html">The Rose Garden</a>:
Her ULE entries.
<a href="http://www.diasilv.com/assr/story.html">Argent Stag, Silver Rose</a>:
Fic inspired by Utena and the King Arthur tales)