And To See Him Smile

A RG Veda Story

by

Myranda Kalis



	"Have I mentioned recently exactly how much I hate all this courtly," 
Taishakuten  paused, searching for something that resembled a polite term, 
and finally  went on without it, "dung?"

	"Yes, my lord," the elderly body servant fussing with the precise 
drape of his cloak replied serenely, "About two or three hundred times a 
day, now."

	The Raijin threw a look over his shoulder that would have thoroughly 
cowed  a lesser being; the ancient servant merely raised his eyebrows in 
the sort of remonstrative gesture bestowed on gritsy three-year-olds.  
Taishakuten didn't miss the significance and  subsided into what he sincerely 
hoped wasn't a petulant silence.  The old man finished his ministrations, 
adjusting the trailing ends of his cloud-grey cloak into an aesthetically pleasing configuration, poking, prodding, shifting, straightening, and generally guiding 
the court armor and clothing Taishakuten suffered to wear away from 
comfortable and into presentable.  With a satisfied sound, he presented a 
mirror and the Raijin--God of  Thunder, General of the armies of Heaven, 
whose name was feared, and cursed, by all the tribes of Mazoku--regarded 
himself with little amusement.  

	"I look like a silvered carrot."

	"You look magnificent--you will slay all the maidens with your 
charms and will carry away the princess of some clan across your 
saddlebow," the old man's eyes glittered with some humor, "Or, failing that, 
you will at least not look like a fool."

	"That's your opinion."  

	"Taishakuten!"

	"I have to get it out now, or I will barely manage to be polite before
Tentai and the entire Heavenly Court," Taishakuten managed between clenched 
teeth, "And even I know there are worse things than failing to present a 
pleasing image.  Burning sky, but I hate court events!"

	The rising winds rattled the walls of the tent and Taishakuten drew a
 deep breath, slowly unknotting his hands from the clench they had 
unconsciously crept into.  The servant bowed deeply in acknowledgment of 
both the logic and the Raijin's knowledge of his own character, turning 
and parting the curtain that divided the pavilion into its two sections.  His 
departure left Taishakuten more or less alone, which was a state he always 
sought just before events such at this, and which he was rarely allowed 
to attain.

	Court.  A shudder rippled through Taishakuten's muscular frame.  
Give him a horde of demons--they could be dealt with in a manner more to 
his own liking.  Courtiers, on the other hand.....Very quietly, and very 
precisely, the general cursed the Tentei, the entire Heavenly Court, and 
himself in each of the languages he knew.  The Tentei, for summoning him 
to Zenmi-jou to be honored at the Summer Court for his skill and success 
in beating back the Mazuko tribes that constantly threatened the fragile 
borders of Tenkai, the Heavenly Court, for its mere existence as an artifact 
of government, and himself, for actually being persuaded that making an 
appearance was a good idea rather than pleading weariness for a winter of 
constant battles and a spring of laying the dead to rest.

	The messenger from Zenmi-jou had arrived at Taishakuten's northern 
headquarters at the same time as the warm breezes from the south began 
taking their precedence, and the rains stopped carrying the chill of snow and 
the wind no longer tasted of ice, and of death in cold places in the mountains.  
It mattered little to the Raijin that the Mazuko dead had out-numbered his 
own, it was death nonetheless and the mountains of the northern kekkai had 
drunk the blood of legions; the valleys and forested glens were rich with the 
gift of the fallen.  It had not been a quick or clean campaign, nor a warm winter, 
and even he had not been certain of success, even with the forces of Ryuu-ou 
pressing the attack in the west; not until the last battle, when the warlord of 
this particular tribe had gone down beneath his sword and their resistance 
had broken, had he been certain any of them would leave the north alive.  The 
mopping up that had followed was, truth to be told, still going on under the 
command of his very capable field second, and involved digging guerilla bands 
of Mazoku raiders out of their strongholds in the mountains and putting them, 
quickly and cleanly, to the sword.  He had ridden in from one such expedition 
shortly after sunset, splattered in mud and blood and so tired it was as if he 
had never known sleep, to find an overdressed and perfumed courtier sitting uncomfortably in the staff room of his pavilion with a politely worded 
command to present himself at Zenmi-jou to be honored for the successful 
completion of the northern campaign...and, of course, the delectation of the 
Heavenly Court.  Taishakuten could only imagine the sort of word that had 
preceded him south, in the mouth of the courtly messenger who had stared at 
him with the sort of horror common in those whose weapons were for 
decoration when faced with one whose sword was still flecked with the blood 
of demons.  He was not looking forward to this with the anticipation of any 
pleasure at all.

	If he had never been to court before, if he retained any romantic 
notions about the nature of the Heavenly Minions that circled around the 
Emperor's throne like scavenger birds, it might have been different.  But he 
had, in fact, seen them for what they were, and they, no doubt, knew him for 
what he was, and Taishakuten seriously doubted that there would ever be 
anything like comfort, or peace, between them.  The Emperor's toys were born 
high into their respective clans, they held place and title by the privilege of
their birth; blood of a different kind had assured them of their futures, the 
lands they would administer, the lives they would lead, the comfort they would 
enjoy.  The Raijin, granted his title and his responsibility by the ambition that 
drove him and the strength that he carried with him, had not been born of a 
noble house or clan, had no parent to assure his passage into the realms of 
power, no family name to cement his claims, and no purity of blood to 
display his legitimacy as a powerful man within the world of the court.  He 
had risen, through skill and effort, had paid the price of his success in blood-
his own, his enemies'--and had earned what he held.  And it was at moments 
like this, surrounded by the hand-picked honor guard that had accompanied 
him to the capital, who were themselves surrounded by the camps and honor 
guards of other generals, of nobles who had arrived to take place in the hills 
around the great lake that cradled Zenmi-jou, that he most felt the need to 
remind himself of that.

	His head rose slightly, taking on its accustomed damnably arrogant 
posture, his lips curving back in a smile that held its usual trace of 
contemptuous amusement.  His silver eyes became mirrors that reflected, 
and showed nothing of what passed within him, and, with a purposeful 
stride that spoke of perfect confidence, he glided from his pavilion to do 
battle.

*************************************************************

	Silvery laughter carried up from the inner garden of Zenmi-jou and 
stopped Ashura-ou where he walked in the gallery overlooking it.  The 
sound was contagious, and the Guardian of Tenkai felt an amused noise 
working its way up his throat as he stole on soundless feet through the 
forest of fluted columns that supported the gallery and gazed down over the 
low wall that protected the unsuspecting from walking off the edge and 
taking a highly unpleasant fall.  Below, amid lushly flowering jordanairres 
and expanses of perfectly manicured lawn, the young son of Yasha-ou and 
the equally young daughter of Karura-ou were playing a game that involved 
a small ball and a good deal of rolling, tumbling, and wrestling in what 
were no doubt extremely expensive court costumes.  The little Princess 
of the Karuras, Ashura-ou noted with some amusement, was giving as 
good as she got and, as he watched, little Yama took a tumble that landed 
him in one of the lily ponds scattered about like wet traps for the young and 
the unwary.  He turned away quickly, before his laughter could betray him, 
and was betrayed by another laugh anyway.  A pair of alarmed exclamations 
from the garden below drew his attention further down the wall, where 
Ryuu-ou leaned on the divide and called down to the children.

	"You two better find your parents and clean up--the procession will 
be starting soon!"  Her voice, more commonly heard barking drill commands 
across the parade field, was sweet and dark and elicited the same instant 
obedience from the children below as it did from the troops she trained.  A 
pair of sweet voices replied in affirmation, followed by the sound of 
running footsteps; Ashura-ou watched them flee, his lips curving in the 
softest and faintest of smiles.

	Ryuu-ou saw the expression and matched it before he could hide it 
again, her vivid blue-green eyes glittering in her elfin face, her expression 
absolutely pixieish.  "Be careful, Ashura-ou, your face may crack."  Her 
voice held the gentle, teasing tone that only she could use with impunity.  
"Or else the matchmakers may assume that your smile was for me and not 
for the children, and rumor will have us married before the end of Court."

	"Rumor already has us married, committing adultery, and engaging 
in all varieties of debauchery with or without one anothers' consent, my 
sweet Nagaina," His smile curled slightly wider at the blush the familiar use 
of her childhood name always evoked, "My smiles alone cannot possibly 
intrigue them more than my failure to smile."

	"Ashura!"  Ryuu-ou's hands plastered to her cheeks in an effort to 
keep her fair complexion from showing her embarrassment so visibly, "You 
are completely awful, you know--the least you could do is deny it once or 
twice and give me the illusion of chastity to present to a future husband!"

	"Well, you are at least now admitting you will marry--at some future 
point," He added, tone dripping amusement at the flash of fire in her eyes 
and the defiant toss of her head.

	"In the far distant future!  You'd think the heavens will fall if I fail 
to gratify the court's urge for a wedding--immediately!"  She rolled her eyes 
toward the perfect blue arch of the sky, untroubled by cloud or wind.  "I 
notice," she added, drilling her finger into the breastplate of his ceremonial 
armor, "that they do not harass you about it with quite the same...persistence."

	"That is because, with me, persistence is not rewarded with your 
lovely flashing eyes--or a maidenly blush," Ashura-ou captured her hand 
and turned it, lowering his forehead to the back of her wrist with the utmost 
respect and gravity, golden eyes glittering teasingly.

	"Oh, they are all afraid that you'll lose your temper and toast them 
black," Ryuu-ou snatched her hand back and refused to blush again.

	"Exactly," Ashura-ou replied with perfect serenity, "My Lady Ryuu-ou, 
I would be honored if you would allow my humble self to escort you into the 
presence of our Lord and Emperor."

	"Humble!"  Ryuu-ou's laugh trilled again, but she gave Ashura-ou her 
arm.  "I can hardly wait to see what the gossips make of this.  In fact, I 
wonder what they will make of the fact that you failed to hide in Ashura-jou 
until the last possible moment to make a polite appearance."

	"They cannot possibly be further from the truth than they already 
are, Ryuu-ou--I no longer even bother to speculate."  The smile vanished as 
they progressed deeper into the royal palace, the mask of cool invulnerability 
that he always wore in the presence of the Heavenly Court slipping over his 
impossibly handsome face as Ryuu-ou watched.  As always, the transformation simultaneously unnerved and irritated her--unnerved, because even she, who 
knew him so well, felt she did not know him at all in moments such as this, 
and irritated, because he felt he needed to adopt such a posture in her presence.  
Not that, she was forced to admit, upbraiding him about it actually did any 
good--he simply gave her the charming expression that had melted stonier 
hearts than hers and she promptly forgot why she was so angry at him...until 
the next time he did it.

	Even she, inured against it by years of strenuous denial, was forced to 
admit they made an eye-catching pair as they made their way through the halls 
of the palace, currently filled almost to the rafters with nobles of all degrees, 
dignitaries of every imaginable variety, ambassadors, entertainers, casual 
onlookers, and the rest of the rabble that gathered whenever the Heavenly 
Court was called into the capital.  He, tall and elegant in gold and white and 
deepest black, dark hair falling to his shoulders like a spill of satin that only 
partially disguised his delicately canted ears and particularly emphasized the 
brilliant gold of his eyes; she, slightly smaller and more slenderly built, short-
cropped red hair a perfect complement to aquamarine eyes, body sheathed 
in gleaming dragon scale armor.  The characteristics of the clans Ashura 
and Ryuu functioned in such perfect opposition and complete harmony that 
many wondered how they could even be friends, they were so different, and 
yet the differences were the fundament of their relationship.  She was quick 
and fierce and fiery; he was deliberate and controlled and coolly even-tempered.  
Her anger flashed like a stroke of lightning, and then vanished like the same, 
leaving little damage behind and only the memory of the thunder; his rage 
was so cold it burned, and left scars, even in those it barely touched.  Her 
impulses were his deliberately calculated moves; his dispassionate heart was 
her heart of fire.  She was the only person in the Tenkai who could publicly 
upbraid him for any reason without incurring a taste of his wrath; he was the 
only person in the Tenkai who could call her by her given name and tease 
her mercilessly without the conversation ending in a swordplay.  Their 
friendship was founded in their ability to transgress each others' boundaries 
with greater or lesser degrees of impunity.  Their relationship was also the 
stuff of annoying courtly drama, since every matchmaker, malicious gossip, 
and rumormonger in the Heavenly Court had an opinion on them, particularly 
with regards to their mutually lacking state of matrimonial bliss and whether 
or not they would end that state any time in the immediate future.  The favored 
outcome among the hopelessly romantic was, of course, that they would 
discover some previously unsuspected wild passion for one another, and fall 
into one anothers' arms as a matter of course.

	It would, in the estimation of both, happen shortly after the hells froze 
over solidly, for Ryuu-ou was opposed to the institution of marriage as a 
matter of principle and Ashura-ou was contemplating granting another the 
supreme honor of dragging him to the altar.  It was an excellent time for it, 
as, in the anticipation of all, peace may very well have been won for their time.  

	Years of careful planning had come to fruition in the western and 
northern campaigns of the summer, autumn, and winter past--the executors 
of those plans were to be honored for their part in driving back, hopefully for 
another full generation, the Mazuko tribes with whom they cohabited in less 
than neighborly fashion.  The plans had been Ashura-ou's; the execution had 
been entrusted to the armies under the command of the bushinshou and the 
shitennou, for Ashura-ou's own place was at the side of the Emperor, and 
whose blade was raised only in his defense.  Many had distinguished 
themselves in the service of the Emperor, and they had been called to 
Zenmi-jou to be honored for that service; Ryuu-ou was herself one, and 
another the Raijin Taishakuten.

	"Taishakuten?"  Ashura-ou's questioning tone drew her out of her 
contemplations, and she glanced at him as they entered the long gallery 
that led to the inner chambers of the palace, and the throne room itself.

	"What of him?"  A tiny thrill of unease traveled up her spine, as it 
always did, at the sound of that name.

	"You murmured his name aloud, Ryuu-ou--has he been much in 
your thoughts?"  His tone, though a questioning one, was otherwise entirely 
neutral, as was his face, his golden eyes a mirror; she wondered, for an instant, 
what he was thinking.

	"Don't you start, too--the Raijin's bachelorhood has been widely 
commented on among the officers of my army...as has his excellent beauty, 
which vies with his arrogance for his most striking attribute."  Ryuu-ou 
snorted in a completely uncourtly fashion.  "It's lucky that I know all my men 
are loyal to me personally or I might feel threatened by the force of that 
man's charisma."

	"I must admit, I have heard a great deal of him but know very little 
about him."  Ashura-ou's tone made that slightly less a statement of ignorance 
than a declaration of his intention to learn more.  "You have served with him?"

	"I have had that...honor.  Before our forces split, and he went in 
pursuit of our enemies' northbound army."  A small shudder traveled through 
her as she remembered--it had been a dark time, and even Ashura's tactical 
acumen had been pressed to its limits, when faced with an enemy that 
outnumbered them almost ten-to-one.

	"What did you think of him?"  Again, that neutral questioning, and 
Ryuu-ou would have given a casket of her finest pearls to know what was 
going on inside Ashura's mind as he asked it.

	"I thought then, and I still think now, that something is eating at him-
devouring him from within."  She paused, and searched for the correct words 
to phrase her intuition.  "He seems...driven.  Dangerously so.  I suspect that, 
lacking a family and a clan to give him position, he has been hardened in 
ways that you or I have not been--we are both warriors, but we were also 
the heirs of our fathers, and given all that we needed from birth to fulfill 
our obligations to this position.  Taishakuten fought his way into the 
position he now occupies, and I expect that before he came to it, he had 
more than his fair share of being pushed back down--ungently."

	"I am told that he is arrogant enough to be a High King in his own 
right," Ashura-ou glanced at her as a soft laugh escaped her lips.

	"Oh, he is that--arrogant.  He carries himself as though he already 
wears a crown, and leads a clan that bears his name.  But only in certain 
company."  A wry smile curled her lips.  "Most of my general staff, for example.  
You could have pasted feathers to him and called him a game cock the first 
time he met them--I was ready to make a bet on who would draw first, him 
or General Shinjousho!"

	"Who did?"  Wryly.

	"Neither.  They eventually settled down and behaved themselves quite 
nicely once I brought out the battle plans.  When he is not armoring himself 
in that attitude, Taishakuten is almost rather bearable--he is no fool, and did 
not gain his rank for no better reason than flattering the right egos at the right 
time...not that I think he has it in him to actually stroke anyone's ego even if it 
would gain him any favor.  He is very proud, and very confident, and very, 
very bitter."  She paused.  "I think he may bear watching in the future, 
Ashura-ou, for I could not swear that he does not covet your position, as the 
first warrior of Tenkai."

	"We will deal with that when it comes--if it comes."  Ashura-ou 
stopped within sight of the throne room doors, and turned to face her, the 
court mask flickering away from his eyes and allowing her a brief glimpse 
within.  "I have not yet thanked you, Nagaina, for coming home safely.  I 
would have missed you horribly had some misfortune of battle befallen you, 
and I was left alone at this court without some bastion of sanity."

	A smile of genuine pleasure came to Ryuu-ou's lips.  "You should 
know by now, Ashura, that it will take far more than ten-to-one odds and the 
arrogance of hungry young thunder gods to keep me from coming back here 
to harass you on a regular basis.  But I thank you...for it is good to know that 
the greatest warrior of the heavenly realm personally intercedes with the 
fortunes of battle for my safety!"

	As they crossed the threshold of the throne room and into the 
presence of Tentei, Ryuu-ou murmured softly, trying to sound uncurious, 
"So...tell me...who do you plan to marry?"

*******************************************************

	Ashura-ou gazed out over the assembled court with such complete 
serenity, such an air of cool dignity, that even the royal rumormongers who
 made their lives analyzing his every change of posture and expression could 
have said that there was anything wrong with him.  He stood to the Emperor's 
right, as was proper for the first defender of the imperial person, and the 
Guardian of the Realm; opposite him, Kisshouten, Tentei's daughter and 
the future Empress, watched the spectacle with visible pleasure, her beauty 
and grace perfect, in all the things the child of the proudest clan in the 
Tenkai.  Around them, the four shitennou of the Heavenly Court occupied 
the four cardinal points of the compass--Ryuu-ou in the west, Yasha-ou in 
the north, Karura-ou in the south, and Kendappa-ou in the east.  In their center, 
of course, Tentei himself lounged in his throne, resplendent in the robes of his 
office and making witty comments that caused his lovely daughter to grace 
them all with her pure laughter and, thankfully, lifting the burden of 
conversation almost entirely off Ashura-ou's shoulders.

	The gods, but I hate court functions.  The thought finally articulated 
itself through the exhausted haze his mind was swimming in, and Ashura barely 
managed to keep from smiling at the momentary relief it gave him to admit it, 
if only to himself.  The assembly of the Heavenly Court and these displays of 
very obvious power and largesse were an exotic form of torture even when he 
was feeling perfectly at his ease, with nothing at all to trouble him; with 
broken sleep and visions that never fully went away hanging before his eyes, 
it was even worse.  Only the fact that he had long ago learned how to lock 
every muscle in place without appearing stiff or tense kept him in that perfect 
posture; otherwise, his shoulders might have slumped under the weariness 
pressing down on him, and the flawlessness he was noted for would have 
been something less than...perfect.  

	He lowered his lashes for a moment as a vision swam briefly before 
his golden eyes; the picture he presented was one of respectful contemplation 
of the lords and generals arranged before them.  It refused to focus, to 
cohere enough to be clearly seen, and a sharp pain lanced through his 
temples as it dissipated back into the oracular trance from which it had 
emerged.  They were coming often now, more and more painfully, and 
each one added to his own dark certainty....

	He sensed, rather than saw, Ryuu-ou tense at his side; she had 
never acquired much of a courtly mask, and little was required to make her 
cast what she did possess aside.  He lifted his eyes to take in fully the 
entourage offering its obeisance to the Emperor and the assembled court.

	"Raijin Taishakuten," Ryuu-ou spoke in an undertone, for his benefit, 
and ignorant of the knowledge that Ashura-ou knew the Raijin's face and 
form well, though they had never before met.

	He was, Ashura-ou thought with supreme dispassion, even more 
beautiful than his own visions had led him to think.  The Raijin was tall, 
taller than himself by several inches, wider across the chest and shoulders, 
and more visibly powerful of build.  Corded muscle covered by pale skin 
rippled beneath the presentational clothing he wore--clothing that pulled 
taut at every smoothly polished motion, and revealed his power rather 
than concealed it.  Silver hair cascaded unbound to his waist, stirring 
almost in a nonexistent breeze; his colors were all the same shades, storm
cloud grey, snow silver, lightning white.  His six companions--the entourage 
that he had traveled to Zenmi-jou with--were all dressed similarly and all 
followed his lead in nearly everything.  He seemed to shimmer slightly 
in the indirect light of the throne room as he held his bow, waiting for 
Tentei's acknowledgment before he rose, but Ashura-ou could still see 
precisely what Ryuu-ou had meant: the gesture of honorable submission 
did not suit him at all.   He might be of humble birth, but there was 
nothing common within him; there stood a god, born to rule.

	He heard the Emperor speak as though from a great distance, 
acknowledging Taishakuten's obeisance and bidding him rise.  The Raijin 
did so, straightening to his full, commanding height, his head settling at an 
angle distinctly contrary to his submissiveness of the moment before, 
stormlight-silver eyes flickering over the faces of the assembled court as 
he inclined his head in greeting--the gesture of equals to one another.  

	Ashura-ou suppressed a smile at the distinctly displeased rumble that 
came from the direction of Kendappa-ou's warrior husband; Jikokuten did 
not appreciate elegant displays of arrogance, particularly when his wife was 
one of the recipients of them.  He heard Taishakuten speaking and, though he 
had avoided it, and knew he must continue to do so for the sake of his own 
sanity, he allowed his eyes to be drawn to the Raijin's face.

	It was a mistake.  Oh, it was a mistake, and he knew it immediately.
Taishakuten's gaze touched his own, and the instant it did, he could no longer 
look away.  He no longer had any desire to look away.  All the shades of 
cloud rippled in his eyes, pale silver-grey and flickering with the light of the 
storm, the glitter of lightning.  They held him without even trying, for he 
knew that Taishakuten was looking at him now, as trapped as he and as 
unable to turn aside.  A strange expression was coming into them, a true 
expression, for, unlike Ryuu-ou, the Raijin knew how to hide himself 
from the eyes of others, and what Ashura-ou was seeing know had not be 
meant for any sort of public revelation.  Longing.  Need.  Hunger.  
Ashura-ou stared helplessly into the eyes of the man he knew would be 
both his lover and his death, and for the briefest of moments knew complete 
peace.

	It required an almost physical effort to avert his eyes, wrenching 
his gaze away from Taishakuten's with a publicly acceptable lowering of 
his lashes, though the rest of his body remained perfectly still.  The 
connection snapped, the brief peace he had felt fled, and it took all of his 
will and centuries of training to keep from reacting visibly to its loss.  It
could not have lasted for more than a moment, and still his soul could not 
have been more deeply touched, more utterly shaken, and he silently longed 
for the peace and stillness of Ashura-jou in which to regain his mental balance, 
restore himself to the perfect calm that he projected and had never felt less.

***************************************************

	The wait had been interminable, and it was only the first of many 
annoyances which Taishakuten was confronted with, though, by far, the 
easiest to endure.  The basic truism of military life was that, for the majority 
of the time, it was usually a case of hurrying up in order to wait; it was 
simply easier to endure the waiting if the end result was watching a well-
planned action unfold to magnificent effect.  Having to wait to be ushered 
into the presence of Tentei and the rest of the Heavenly Court because of 
the inevitable vicissitudes of court politics was simply an annoying variation 
on the theme.  Taishakuten made up his mind to wait patiently, because no 
one expected him to, and surprised everyone in his immediate vicinity by 
making pleasant and well-informed conversation will all who addressed him 
and displaying more charm than he'd cared to for as long as he'd held any 
sort of rank.  It was, he thought with a certain wry humor, better than fuming, 
and almost as amusing as watching the three junior officers he had brought 
with him gawk at the splendor of Zenmi-jou, and the other three, slightly 
more experienced, make self-deprecating comments to the pretty girls they 
were attempting to woo.  If nothing else, everything they experienced here 
would teach them something about the nature of court and its politics, and 
he doubted they would actually get into serious trouble...though they might 
never recover from the attentions of the capital's particularly fine breed of 
courtesans, and would be ruined for life for lesser whores.  A faintly wistful 
smile crawled onto Taishakuten's face as he remembered his own first visit 
to Zenmi-jou as a very junior officer....

	...And his only real reason for wanting to return now, though nothing 
could have made him betray that to the courtiers he waited out the inevitable 
delays with.  Politics, he told himself firmly, and almost believed it, for the 
high ranks of the Tenkai's military were nearly as politicized as the circle of 
its noble families; if he wished to rise higher, he needed to cultivate the good 
will of the Emperor and the Court.  The fact that he was a ranking member 
of the Court was only a secondary consideration at best.  Taishakuten had 
been telling himself that for years, and listening diligently to the advice of 
the old attendant who had come to his service when he was granted the office 
of Raijin--the advice that, if he never spoke of it, then the man he constructed 
in his own mind would never be able to match the reality, and he would be 
doomed to inevitable disappointment in what he found.

	Ashura-ou.  His throat tightened slightly at the mere thought, and 
the realization that neither time, nor his diligent attempts to forget, had 
dimmed the memory of him, the single sight he had had of the young lord 
of the Ashura clan, recently come to his throne, hundreds of years previously.  
Of course, if he had been serious about forgetting it, he would have resigned 
his commission and pursued some course that would not have required him 
to read dispatches and orders written in Ashura-ou's fine hand and sealed 
with the arms of his clan, nor have casually pumped Ryuu-ou for all the 
information she was worth while on campaign with her in the west.  He 
would not be woken by dreams that he would actually struggle to recall in 
every detail.  And he most certainly would not have come to Zenmi-jou 
again, no matter how polite the command had been, he acknowledged to 
himself.

	The procession had begun moving again, almost without him noticing 
it, and he quietly blessed the advantage of his height.  He caught a glimpse 
of gold-and-white, and then a flash of fiery hair and liquid blue-green.  
Taishakuten repressed a reflexive smile--Ryuu-ou, in her place at Ashura-ou's 
back, one of the few who deserved the honor of guarding it.  He had been 
forced to revise his opinion of noble-officers somewhat after meeting her, for 
the woman was all things he appreciated in both allies and adversaries: fierce, 
canny, quick and accurate in her judgements, and just hot-headed enough to 
take a risk and make it show positive results.  The fact that she probably didn't 
trust him as far as she could have thrown him simply meant she was wiser 
than she was reputed to be in most cases; her reputation for impulsiveness 
often masked her very real intuition--of things that could not be logically 
explained, only experienced.  Her aquamarine eyes found him, and her 
posture changed slightly, a tensing across the shoulders, her hands uncurling 
from their loose clench.  She was, he noted with some amusement, ready 
to vault the railing and draw at the slightest provocation, her body language 
speaking protectiveness--though of whom, he didn't guess until he saw her 
lips moving, forming his name.  Speaking to the man who stood in front, 
and slightly to the right, of her.  Then Taishakuten himself was before the 
throne and offering his homage to the Emperor, the Shitennou, and his 
favorites, in that order, his lips automatically forming the courtly phrases 
of polite conversation, while his eyes struggled to rest anywhere but on 
the one he had come to see, heart suddenly pounding.  In fear.  And need.

	He felt the delicate pressure of eyes upon him and, though he struggled 
against the need to do it, he looked up and into them.  They were the warm 
golden of sunset over the northern mountains, and yet they were not themselves 
warm in expression; they glittered, almost feverishly, and defeated all attempts 
to look too deeply into them.  And yet he could not look away.  They were set 
deeply in a face of impossible beauty, of transcendent elegance and grace, but 
they were all he noticed, all he could see.  Fire flickered in the light of their 
depths, and drew him in like wind into a conflagration, heat rushing through 
his body from the contact, and, for an instant, he forgot entirely how to 
breathe, how to think, how to do anything other than hold, and be held by, 
those glorious golden eyes.  Drowning in their beauty, and the promise of 
peace he felt written there but could not see.

	Ashura-ou glanced down, releasing him, the motion hidden as his long, 
thick lashes veiled his sunlit eyes, and Taishakuten almost reeled on his feet-
the loss was almost physical, and almost physically painful, shockingly intense.  
He heard, as though from a great distance, Tentei, offering him the reward 
of his choosing.

	He suddenly knew exactly what it would be.