Sailor Moon Fan Fiction ❯ The Window Seat ❯ The Violet and the Red ( Chapter 1 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Aniah 
Something amiss at the Black Moon Citadel, and how do Dimando and Rubeus feel about Hope?
Anime/Manga: Sailor Moon Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 08.30.2001 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.2K | Visits: 326 | Status: Completed
Something amiss at the Black Moon Citadel, and how do Dimando and Rubeus feel about Hope?
Anime/Manga: Sailor Moon Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 08.30.2001 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.2K | Visits: 326 | Status: Completed
The Window Seat, Chapter One: The Violet and the Red
Aniah
* * *
Hi minnasan!
Well here I was; sitting in the computer lab of my school when I get a brainstorm, so what do I do? Get a sprained finger. It doesn't make sense.
Isn't Pink just the best artist? Hmmmmmm...Don't forget though, this is the Black Moon family done color-coordinated style, and the Violet is Hope of Ronan, FYI. PUH-LEEZE don't shoot me for misspelling Kurenanio, but I can't remember the right way, gomen nasai!
Silence is Sailor Saturn, btw, and Time=Pluto.
More importantly, I send this out to Baked Nuts, regardless of any misunderstanding: Kiwi Celeste, Seichan, Hotaruchan 1 and Hotaruchan G, Dchan, Narie, Lucca, Winter Rose, Avi, and everyone else! You guys are the best I could ask for, and very understanding.
Disclaimers: All Sailor Moon characters belong to Naoko, DiC, Pioneer, and anyone else who has legal rights to them. ALL RONANITE CHARACTERS are MY PROPERTY and if you would like to use them kindly contact me at mailto:AniaHope@aol.com
* * *
Be careful with my heart
You could break it
Don't take my love for granted
Things could change
Sometimes I go insane
I play the fool and you'll agree
I'd never be the same without
You here with me
---Ricky Martin song
* * *
Something was amiss. The Golden goddess clenched the wrought iron railing of her and the White Prince's balcony, lips pursed. Maybe he finally got the message? The Nemesian monarch was nowhere in sight, and this gave his queen a rare moment to contemplate. No, she shook her head, that is an impossible dream.
A cool hand gripped her shoulder lightly, and the Gold shivered. I guess not, a ghost of a smile grazed her lips before she was turned to face the Prince of the Black Moon. "Would you like to stay out here longer?" He asked. She nodded, drawing the pearly wrap closer around her body. His quicksilver hair bouncing slightly, the White drew the balcony doors shut behind him as he left to prepare for bed.
The former NeoSerenity, although she had never actually been the queen, glanced down to the rocky pilings below. It's not a bad height, she decided. The Gold took a peek through the windows of the doors into the bedchamber, and hurriedly averted her gaze; the Prince was still dressing. He wouldn't be able to stop me in time. I am only fourteen years young.
A breeze, coming from the deserted Tokyo of the Gemstones, blew the spun gold of the queen's hair away from her face. Taking a deep breath she whispered the one word that had given her solace and pain in the three months since her imprisonment in the Black Moon citadel: "Mamo-chan". She climbed on the balcony, reciting the names of her dead senshi friends and the daughter never to be born. She tasted her love's name on her tongue one last time, and jumped.
...Only to be sharply drawn up by a column of violet-pink power. "Never again!" The Prince whispered, crushing his queen against his chest. The Gold could feel his heart pounding; and knew that he really cared for her. So what if he does. All of my friends are dead because of his cruelty. That won't get anything from me.
* * *
The Sisters Four sat cross legged in the common room of their chambers; playing poker. This was one of the only games they could agree on; they had learnt it during their short stay in the Terran early 1990s. The door to their room opened, and the Violet slammed it behind her, seething.
"Problem?" The fire Sister asked sweetly, lifting her eyes from her hand.
"Is it just me or are your monarchs completely out of whack?" Shaking her head, the Violet joined the circle, between the thunder Sister and the Sister of love.
"Why would that be?" Asked the icy water Sister, throwing in her hand. "Let's hear the gossip!" She declared.
"Your prince...." she paused for dramatization "...Just made a bold attempt." The Sisters raised their eyebrows.
"He's somewhat put out that his queen..." The Blue Prince's aura began shining brightly adjacent to the eldest, or Green Sister, who smiled softly.
"...Just tried to commit suicide." He finished her sentence, and a collective gasp was to be heard. Everyone tried to speak at once, so the Violet sat on a convenient sofa until they sorted it out.
"She is somewhat weak," the Violet commented softly, "but she can be stronger then any of us mentally...just not at the moment."
"Would you like to be escorted back to your apartments?" The ootoochan of the White asked. The three youngest sisters shook their heads, shoving the Violet and themselves out of the room as fast as possible.
"That is SO romantic!" The sister of love sighed happily. They stopped at the Violet's antechamber/library.
"Want us to ward the doors?" Asked the sister of water, preparing a small pulsing blue energy ball in the palms of her hands. The Violet agreed, and the three sisters did so. Now the walls of her chambers were anti-teleportation, and the only way to get in was through the door they were now standing at.
"Arigatou," she thanked them and prepared to get back into bed. Alas, there was no comfort even in her dreams:
The Violet waded through gold/blue/violet/white mists, thin gown sopping and her hair limp against her skin. The wind grew still, as if listening for something, and it grew cold. Aniah's daughter sat herself upon the unseen ground, arms around knees, knees hugged her chest.
"I found you..." A voice out of hell laughed triumphantly. The White Prince's Ronanite universe counterpart, Darain of Kipturon, lifted the Violet onto a canopy bed, much like the one he himself slept in.
Heart pounding, she found herself locked in Spirit-Element reaction, paralyzed from the neck down. The Violet bared her teeth, black hair whipping in the suddenly gusting wind. "You never were one to remain lost, scum prince." He raised his eyebrows, moving a caressing hand down her face. She convulsed with the pain, as he slapped her.
"I will come for you!" He declared, putting a finger to her lips and running a palm down her torso. "And this time, you will go back meekly."
* * *
"Dammit...Dammit...DAMMIT!" The Violet's eyes popped open to twisted sheets and muscular, bare arms. In one fluid movement she threw an arm out and shoved the intruder off of her narrow bed. A moan escaped from the owner of the arms. Turning, her amethyst orbs widened in surprise, and then in anger.
"Kurenanio?" The Red Admiral shook himself, and got to his feet. "What's going on?" He grinned, a smile all his own.
"You were beating the hell out of your pillow, and tossing spaghetti of your sheets...and screaming something about a prince and canopies..." He shrugged helplessly under her glare. "I thought someone was attacking you."
"So you figured you'd come and rescue me, is that it?" He agreed. "It was just a dream, all right?" With that the Violet shoved the Kurenanio out of her room. "Don't ever do that again!"
* * *
The long meeting table in one of the more mundane conference rooms of the Citadel was filled accordingly, the White Prince at the head, the least of his staff at the foot. The queen, as expected, was staring off into space, as the discussion went from diplomatic measures, tactical errors, and the competence of the Green Witch and her attachment to her mauve fan.
"My Prince," the Kurenanio stood, and the White acknowledged his general. "I address the issue of making the Lady Ronanite one of the clan." With a stifled shriek, the subject of the conversation swatted a handy folder at the Red and left, fuming. The queen looked up, and met the icy Prince's orbs. He nodded slightly, and she exited also.
"Why does this offend you?" the Gold asked the Violet. "You'd be sheltered here." She took a seat next to the Ronanite on the bench. She shook her head, pondering.
"I want to know why the Red Admiral cares," she answered contritely. "He's unpredictable, that one." The Gold agreed, and they both stared out the window at the starkness of the Crystal Palais.
The sound of a gavel hitting mahogany signaled the end of the council. The Prince came to escort his lady to the followed repast, leaving the Violet to her own devices. Wearing a dress shirt for once, the Kurenanio offered his arm to her, which she had no choice but to accept.
The meal was short, and there was somewhat less talk then usual, except for the lusty arguments between the Green Witch, the Blue, and the Red about computers and jackets of all things. Mostly it was the Witch and the Kurenanio trying to get the Blue to wear a different dress coat, which could not be done.
After the meal was over, the Ayakashi and the Violet gathered towels and headed to the women's bathhouse. The sudsy water, warm and fragrant with a nurturing blend of cucumber, aloe, and lemon, would make anyone forget their troubles. The girls sank into separate tubs, and read, or talked with one another.
You're here; I can feel your aura through the aqua. The Violet made a barely successful attempt to continue along with her journal writing. A breeze from nowhere ruffled her pitch hair. The voice sighed; your hair is like a midnight waterfall. Smiling to the Ayakashi and making an excuse, the Violet, under the cover of a black towel, dressed in her robe and walked unsteadily back to her chamber. She was just passing the window seat when the Kurenanio stepped out of an antechamber.
"Hey, wait up!" He pled. Who is this? The voice inside her head asked. She turned to the Red. "Where're you going?"
"Tis late, Admiral, I'm going to my room." Her eyes shined softly, with plagued tears. "What's wrong, Hope?" He asked concernedly. "Are you afraid about becoming a clan member tomorrow? The tattooing is painless, I swear." Betrayer, the voice accused. His saying her name made her sink to the seat, a hand to her forehead. The Red sat himself beside her.
"I feel ill," she made an excuse, she couldn't think of anything more. Liar! The voice chortled triumphantly. Gathering Hope up in his arms, the Kurenanio carried her to her chamber, whispering comforts in her ear all the way back.
When they arrived, he tucked her into bed with gentle hands that one could not believe he had ever devastated a world with. Kissing her forehead softly, he withdrew.
The invisible wind lifted the blankets off of Hope. With a protested cry she jumped to her feet. You breached the dimension barrier. How? She asked, voice wracked with anger. You couldn't leave me alone?
Silence felt that the Balance was losing its even place on the scale of the universe. Discreetly dressing into a nightgown, Hope sank to the rumpled bed.
What Balance?
That of good and evil, of course. The breeze strengthened, and a masculine form could be seen. His features were as fine as the White Prince's, the only difference his swarthy skin, heartless blue eyes, and unruly brown hair. Darain of Kipturon.
And how did Time let you through her gates? He smirked, running a hand through his hair.
I could topple that little port of call in two minutes. The Kipturonian drew his prize to her feet, and tilted her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. Hope, he demanded. She smiled, defiant as the night in Ronan's hall when he had kidnapped her.
Tomorrow, I will pick my clan-name. Amethyst Black Moon, daughter of Aniah Ronan and Rion Kipturon. Tomorrow, the Nemesians will be on my side. Darain's eye's widened, in mock anger.
And who is this Kurenanio? Once you join the group you can wed him and have done with me, is that what you think? Be assured, love, you can never be rid of me. A mental blast from the Spirit Elemental had Hope spread out on the bed, eyes closed, face of stone.
He is Rubeus, confidant of the Prince, and feared throughout Terra. He is kind to me, though. She smiled, and he clouted her with a hand that left no mark but plenty of pain.
I shall be at your coronation, then, and the royal Nemesians will know and fear me! Stroking her face where he had hit her, he ran a hand down the side of her entire body and left with a flourish.
Fire within, Earth blanketing, Water bathing, Life taking. As she stared up at the ceiling, Hope prayed.
* * *
Ne, gomen for it being a bit, non-Nemesian, minna! If anyone wants a complete plot outline for the two Chronicles of Ronan please email me: mailto:AniaHope@aol.com
Aniah
* * *
Hi minnasan!
Well here I was; sitting in the computer lab of my school when I get a brainstorm, so what do I do? Get a sprained finger. It doesn't make sense.
Isn't Pink just the best artist? Hmmmmmm...Don't forget though, this is the Black Moon family done color-coordinated style, and the Violet is Hope of Ronan, FYI. PUH-LEEZE don't shoot me for misspelling Kurenanio, but I can't remember the right way, gomen nasai!
Silence is Sailor Saturn, btw, and Time=Pluto.
More importantly, I send this out to Baked Nuts, regardless of any misunderstanding: Kiwi Celeste, Seichan, Hotaruchan 1 and Hotaruchan G, Dchan, Narie, Lucca, Winter Rose, Avi, and everyone else! You guys are the best I could ask for, and very understanding.
Disclaimers: All Sailor Moon characters belong to Naoko, DiC, Pioneer, and anyone else who has legal rights to them. ALL RONANITE CHARACTERS are MY PROPERTY and if you would like to use them kindly contact me at mailto:AniaHope@aol.com
* * *
Be careful with my heart
You could break it
Don't take my love for granted
Things could change
Sometimes I go insane
I play the fool and you'll agree
I'd never be the same without
You here with me
---Ricky Martin song
* * *
Something was amiss. The Golden goddess clenched the wrought iron railing of her and the White Prince's balcony, lips pursed. Maybe he finally got the message? The Nemesian monarch was nowhere in sight, and this gave his queen a rare moment to contemplate. No, she shook her head, that is an impossible dream.
A cool hand gripped her shoulder lightly, and the Gold shivered. I guess not, a ghost of a smile grazed her lips before she was turned to face the Prince of the Black Moon. "Would you like to stay out here longer?" He asked. She nodded, drawing the pearly wrap closer around her body. His quicksilver hair bouncing slightly, the White drew the balcony doors shut behind him as he left to prepare for bed.
The former NeoSerenity, although she had never actually been the queen, glanced down to the rocky pilings below. It's not a bad height, she decided. The Gold took a peek through the windows of the doors into the bedchamber, and hurriedly averted her gaze; the Prince was still dressing. He wouldn't be able to stop me in time. I am only fourteen years young.
A breeze, coming from the deserted Tokyo of the Gemstones, blew the spun gold of the queen's hair away from her face. Taking a deep breath she whispered the one word that had given her solace and pain in the three months since her imprisonment in the Black Moon citadel: "Mamo-chan". She climbed on the balcony, reciting the names of her dead senshi friends and the daughter never to be born. She tasted her love's name on her tongue one last time, and jumped.
...Only to be sharply drawn up by a column of violet-pink power. "Never again!" The Prince whispered, crushing his queen against his chest. The Gold could feel his heart pounding; and knew that he really cared for her. So what if he does. All of my friends are dead because of his cruelty. That won't get anything from me.
* * *
The Sisters Four sat cross legged in the common room of their chambers; playing poker. This was one of the only games they could agree on; they had learnt it during their short stay in the Terran early 1990s. The door to their room opened, and the Violet slammed it behind her, seething.
"Problem?" The fire Sister asked sweetly, lifting her eyes from her hand.
"Is it just me or are your monarchs completely out of whack?" Shaking her head, the Violet joined the circle, between the thunder Sister and the Sister of love.
"Why would that be?" Asked the icy water Sister, throwing in her hand. "Let's hear the gossip!" She declared.
"Your prince...." she paused for dramatization "...Just made a bold attempt." The Sisters raised their eyebrows.
"He's somewhat put out that his queen..." The Blue Prince's aura began shining brightly adjacent to the eldest, or Green Sister, who smiled softly.
"...Just tried to commit suicide." He finished her sentence, and a collective gasp was to be heard. Everyone tried to speak at once, so the Violet sat on a convenient sofa until they sorted it out.
"She is somewhat weak," the Violet commented softly, "but she can be stronger then any of us mentally...just not at the moment."
"Would you like to be escorted back to your apartments?" The ootoochan of the White asked. The three youngest sisters shook their heads, shoving the Violet and themselves out of the room as fast as possible.
"That is SO romantic!" The sister of love sighed happily. They stopped at the Violet's antechamber/library.
"Want us to ward the doors?" Asked the sister of water, preparing a small pulsing blue energy ball in the palms of her hands. The Violet agreed, and the three sisters did so. Now the walls of her chambers were anti-teleportation, and the only way to get in was through the door they were now standing at.
"Arigatou," she thanked them and prepared to get back into bed. Alas, there was no comfort even in her dreams:
The Violet waded through gold/blue/violet/white mists, thin gown sopping and her hair limp against her skin. The wind grew still, as if listening for something, and it grew cold. Aniah's daughter sat herself upon the unseen ground, arms around knees, knees hugged her chest.
"I found you..." A voice out of hell laughed triumphantly. The White Prince's Ronanite universe counterpart, Darain of Kipturon, lifted the Violet onto a canopy bed, much like the one he himself slept in.
Heart pounding, she found herself locked in Spirit-Element reaction, paralyzed from the neck down. The Violet bared her teeth, black hair whipping in the suddenly gusting wind. "You never were one to remain lost, scum prince." He raised his eyebrows, moving a caressing hand down her face. She convulsed with the pain, as he slapped her.
"I will come for you!" He declared, putting a finger to her lips and running a palm down her torso. "And this time, you will go back meekly."
* * *
"Dammit...Dammit...DAMMIT!" The Violet's eyes popped open to twisted sheets and muscular, bare arms. In one fluid movement she threw an arm out and shoved the intruder off of her narrow bed. A moan escaped from the owner of the arms. Turning, her amethyst orbs widened in surprise, and then in anger.
"Kurenanio?" The Red Admiral shook himself, and got to his feet. "What's going on?" He grinned, a smile all his own.
"You were beating the hell out of your pillow, and tossing spaghetti of your sheets...and screaming something about a prince and canopies..." He shrugged helplessly under her glare. "I thought someone was attacking you."
"So you figured you'd come and rescue me, is that it?" He agreed. "It was just a dream, all right?" With that the Violet shoved the Kurenanio out of her room. "Don't ever do that again!"
* * *
The long meeting table in one of the more mundane conference rooms of the Citadel was filled accordingly, the White Prince at the head, the least of his staff at the foot. The queen, as expected, was staring off into space, as the discussion went from diplomatic measures, tactical errors, and the competence of the Green Witch and her attachment to her mauve fan.
"My Prince," the Kurenanio stood, and the White acknowledged his general. "I address the issue of making the Lady Ronanite one of the clan." With a stifled shriek, the subject of the conversation swatted a handy folder at the Red and left, fuming. The queen looked up, and met the icy Prince's orbs. He nodded slightly, and she exited also.
"Why does this offend you?" the Gold asked the Violet. "You'd be sheltered here." She took a seat next to the Ronanite on the bench. She shook her head, pondering.
"I want to know why the Red Admiral cares," she answered contritely. "He's unpredictable, that one." The Gold agreed, and they both stared out the window at the starkness of the Crystal Palais.
The sound of a gavel hitting mahogany signaled the end of the council. The Prince came to escort his lady to the followed repast, leaving the Violet to her own devices. Wearing a dress shirt for once, the Kurenanio offered his arm to her, which she had no choice but to accept.
The meal was short, and there was somewhat less talk then usual, except for the lusty arguments between the Green Witch, the Blue, and the Red about computers and jackets of all things. Mostly it was the Witch and the Kurenanio trying to get the Blue to wear a different dress coat, which could not be done.
After the meal was over, the Ayakashi and the Violet gathered towels and headed to the women's bathhouse. The sudsy water, warm and fragrant with a nurturing blend of cucumber, aloe, and lemon, would make anyone forget their troubles. The girls sank into separate tubs, and read, or talked with one another.
You're here; I can feel your aura through the aqua. The Violet made a barely successful attempt to continue along with her journal writing. A breeze from nowhere ruffled her pitch hair. The voice sighed; your hair is like a midnight waterfall. Smiling to the Ayakashi and making an excuse, the Violet, under the cover of a black towel, dressed in her robe and walked unsteadily back to her chamber. She was just passing the window seat when the Kurenanio stepped out of an antechamber.
"Hey, wait up!" He pled. Who is this? The voice inside her head asked. She turned to the Red. "Where're you going?"
"Tis late, Admiral, I'm going to my room." Her eyes shined softly, with plagued tears. "What's wrong, Hope?" He asked concernedly. "Are you afraid about becoming a clan member tomorrow? The tattooing is painless, I swear." Betrayer, the voice accused. His saying her name made her sink to the seat, a hand to her forehead. The Red sat himself beside her.
"I feel ill," she made an excuse, she couldn't think of anything more. Liar! The voice chortled triumphantly. Gathering Hope up in his arms, the Kurenanio carried her to her chamber, whispering comforts in her ear all the way back.
When they arrived, he tucked her into bed with gentle hands that one could not believe he had ever devastated a world with. Kissing her forehead softly, he withdrew.
The invisible wind lifted the blankets off of Hope. With a protested cry she jumped to her feet. You breached the dimension barrier. How? She asked, voice wracked with anger. You couldn't leave me alone?
Silence felt that the Balance was losing its even place on the scale of the universe. Discreetly dressing into a nightgown, Hope sank to the rumpled bed.
What Balance?
That of good and evil, of course. The breeze strengthened, and a masculine form could be seen. His features were as fine as the White Prince's, the only difference his swarthy skin, heartless blue eyes, and unruly brown hair. Darain of Kipturon.
And how did Time let you through her gates? He smirked, running a hand through his hair.
I could topple that little port of call in two minutes. The Kipturonian drew his prize to her feet, and tilted her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. Hope, he demanded. She smiled, defiant as the night in Ronan's hall when he had kidnapped her.
Tomorrow, I will pick my clan-name. Amethyst Black Moon, daughter of Aniah Ronan and Rion Kipturon. Tomorrow, the Nemesians will be on my side. Darain's eye's widened, in mock anger.
And who is this Kurenanio? Once you join the group you can wed him and have done with me, is that what you think? Be assured, love, you can never be rid of me. A mental blast from the Spirit Elemental had Hope spread out on the bed, eyes closed, face of stone.
He is Rubeus, confidant of the Prince, and feared throughout Terra. He is kind to me, though. She smiled, and he clouted her with a hand that left no mark but plenty of pain.
I shall be at your coronation, then, and the royal Nemesians will know and fear me! Stroking her face where he had hit her, he ran a hand down the side of her entire body and left with a flourish.
Fire within, Earth blanketing, Water bathing, Life taking. As she stared up at the ceiling, Hope prayed.
* * *
Ne, gomen for it being a bit, non-Nemesian, minna! If anyone wants a complete plot outline for the two Chronicles of Ronan please email me: mailto:AniaHope@aol.com