Standard Disclaimer: Characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi and other companies; thus, no copyright infringement is intended. I apologize in advance for any more spelling or grammatical errors. I have tried to fix most of my spelling and grammatical errors, but there are bound to be some left. I'm sorry about any historical inaccuracies that are found within this fanfic. This is an alternate dimension fanfic that has more romance than anything else. Any comments/flames are welcome at: ayfl@hotmail.com Copyright 1998 to Lunar Rose ------------------------------------ ONLY FOR YOU The Revised Edition ------------------------------------- England 1757 "Will I wait a lonely lifetime? If you want me to, I will." -The Beatles He yearned for something, something that he had not yet achieved. He yearned for his freedom. Freedom to live as he pleased. He longed for time. Time to achieve his success. He was free to do as he wished. His brother would inherit their father's dukedom. There would be no pressure on him. France. The world of fashion and adultery. A place of passion and unforbidden pleasure. Surely, he would find something worthwhile in France. But he would miss his little Rena. She could not accompany him, not if he planned on sowing the remainder of his wild oats. Rena, what would life be without her? She was so vibrant and free. She had the most infectious laugh that he had ever heard, tinkling and silvery. He could gaze into her sapphire blue eyes and find Truth. Those eyes of hers, he thought, were so very expressive. She was a little sprite. Playing in the lake or wandering in the forest, she was his to treasure. His greatest treasure. She listened to his tales of woe and his curses. She smiled that special smile of hers at his jokes. She joined him in his incessant pranks. Ah, Rena, could he manage without her? But he must. Darien Spencer wanted to find his fortune, his own wealth. He had no wish of becoming a dependent fop. Now where was Rena? She would be delighted with his new-found plan. --------------------------------- Serena Parker gazed out at the man-made lake. She smiled at her reflection. She had grown up quite a bit. She was finally fourteen and her body was co-operating with her vision of the perfect woman. She was beginning to fill out to her boundless delight. She wondered if he ever noticed. Darien Spencer must have noticed. She spent nearly every waking minute dreaming of him, thinking of him. Serena knew already that she loved him. She loved him with all her heart. She would wear her heart on her sleeve if it meant that he would learn to love her. Darien was the only one who really understood her. He understood why she ran around barefooted, swam in the lake at midnight, and wore the plainest dresses in her wardrobe. Serena loved her freedom. It was as simple as that. Serena raised her head to the sky. The clouds were floating aimlessly across a sky of blue. The sky reminded her of Darien's eyes. She smiled dreamily. She was becoming a love-sick fool. "Rena," Darien yelled, twenty paces away from the lake. He could always find her at the lake. She always seemed to be rooted to that exact spot, Darien thought. His lips tugged upwards into a quirky smile. There was so much to tell. ------------------------------------- Serena's smile was frozen on her face. She had smiled and nodded at Darien's plan. He was leaving? She wasn't going to accompany him? What did he mean that she was too young? She was a proud fourteen. Most women married at the age of fourteen. Serena didn't agree with anything that he had said. You're lying, a small voice inside her head insisted. She understood that Darien needed his freedom and time. But the selfish part of her wanted Darien to never leave her side. What if he found another woman? What if he loved that woman to distraction? Panic rushed through every limb of her. She couldn't go with him. She knew that no one would allow it. She couldn't persuade him to stay, not when his mind was made up. Darien Spencer was just as stubborn as herself, as stubborn as a mule. Silence had ensued after Darien's speech. It was a comfortable silence for him. Darien wondered what it was about her that made him feel so relaxed. Serena need not even say a thing and he was just as content. She understood him like no other. His brother believed that he should assume some responsibility. His mother disapproved of his pranks. His grandfather was appalled by the number of oats he sowed on a daily basis. The only one that understood him was Serena, his little Rena. God, how he adored her. "Darien," Serena whispered, breaking the silence. A soft breeze blew across her face. "I don't want you to go. I know you think you must, but would it not be better to wait a few years before you left? I mean, then I could come with you," Serena continued. Serena coming with him when he wanted to enjoy Parisian life? As much as Darien adored her, he was not going to allow her to see him lusting and bedding female after female. It would destroy her opinion of him, not to mention her peace of mind. Darien was still young. He had a lot to learn from life, but first he wanted to enjoy it. "Rena, it would be best if you stayed here," Darien assured. He tenderly brushed away a stray strand of hair from her forehead. "But Darien, I love you," Serena blurted out. He was going to France. He may never come back, never return to marry her. She had heard tales of the loose morals of the French court. "I love you too, Rena. You're the sister that I never had. You're bright and carefree. You understand me better than anyone I've met so far. France is not the place for you, Rena. It would be best if you stayed in England, where you belong," Darien said. His tone softened at Serena's crest-fallen face. A sister? She loved him as a man loved a woman. But he loved her as he would a sister. Life was not fair. Why couldn't he see? Why couldn't he see that she loved him? Serena felt tears beginning to form. She felt their salty presence. Darien stared at the liquid blue of her eyes. Someday, Rena, you're going to break many a man's heart. Darien pulled her into his embrace. He felt her soft body crush into his. Darien marvelled at the way she fit his body. Her gentle curves meshing into his hard ones. He felt desire run its sinful course along the length of his body. This would not do. He had just finished telling Rena that he loved her as a sister and now he was lusting after her. Darien pulled away suddenly. His mind was spinning. He had soiled their friendship. Serena fell back, her tears glistening in the sunlight. She didn't want to say good-bye. She didn't know if she would be able to look him in the face without her heart being crushed. Darien Spencer left the following day despite the tears and the sad farewells. Serena watched the carriage pull away from the drive. She watched the pair of dark horses' sinewy movement. She closed her eyes and knew with an alarming precision: her heart had broken the minute Darien had told her that he loved her as a beloved sister. ---------------------------------- England 1762 "My heart love till now for sweared sight, for I never saw true beauty till this night." -from Shakespeare's Romeo & Juliet The darkness descended once again. Would things never be the same? She had once seen the world in its brightest colours. Now she would only see the emptiness of the dark. She longed for her sight, for her eyes to open and see her surroundings. But her sight had failed her long ago. The fire. She remembered seeing the flames devour the house before waking up to a frightening darkness. She had learned to live with her life, learned to be happy despite her affliction. But there were times when she wished for nothing but the ability to see. Oh, she remembered the magnificent hues of rolling greens, dark reds, bright blues, and golden yellows. It was only that she couldn't see any of them anymore. It really wasn't so bad, her mind reasoned. She had seen the world in a whole new light, a light that didn't need pictures to grow. Her stays were digging into her ribs. Why were women so frivolous? Her stomacher was decorated in a soft blue, or so her sister had said. Her open dress covered a pair of small hoops. Ribbons and a series of indigo bows led the way down her bodice. Her hair was fashioned high with pearls and ribbons intertwining with the golden strands. A touch of rouge had been applied to her lips and cheeks. A small heart-shaped patch was placed strategically beside her mouth. The Season had started with its usual bustle of activity with its dazzling succession of balls and invitations for tea. The only difference this time was that she was here in London for her debut. Already, a man had offered for her hand. Impossible as it seemed, she had been surrounded by suitors. Perhaps, they wanted a pretty possession or some novelty in their dull lives. She honestly didn't know. But at the age of nineteen, she needed to be married. Serena didn't want to become a burden to her sister nor to her brother-in-law. "Look at her, Malcolm. At this rate, Serena may just end being the belle of the ball," Mina exclaimed, delighted at the many men hovering around her sister. "Mina, give it a rest. Surely all your excitement is a passing phase. Serena does not look happy," Malcolm replied. He had been exasperated over his wife's excessive shopping and abundance of squeals. "Who is that young lady being hounded?" It was a new voice, one that Malcolm recognized at once. "Darien, is it really you?" Mina was squealing with joy. She began hugging the newcomer with zeal. After kissing Mina on the cheek chastely, Darien bowed teasingly to Malcolm. Malcolm stared in disbelief at the young man before him. His brother had finally come home. Darien had grown taller and thinner, but nevertheless his cerulean eyes were alight with mischief. Darien's dark hair was cropped short and unpowdered. "You devil, you never even wrote to tell us of your homecoming," Malcolm finally said. Darien grinned. It was good to be home, back in England. He had missed England and her somewhat colder breezes and her fresh air. France had been thrilling though it could not compare to England, to his home. "'Tis wonderful to be home, back on England's soil," Darien replied, his eyes fixated on the golden beauty. She seemed familiar somehow, but he could have sworn that he had never met her. Malcolm noticed where his brother's interest lay: Serena. Malcolm sighed. It was bound to happen. Serena really was beautiful. Even without her sight, she rose above the rest of the flirting girls swarming at the Bowden Ball. "You do not recognize her, brother," Malcolm said, never tearing his glance away from Serena and her group of admirers. It was more a statement than a question. "Am I supposed to? Do you think she will dance with me if I asked ever so gallantly?" Darien was puzzled. If he had known that fair-haired enchantress, he would never have let her leave his arms. "Darien, meet Lady Serena Parker," Malcolm declared, his voice a low hum amidst the chatter. Serena. His Rena. She really had grown up to break men's hearts. She was exquisitely lovely. Darien straightened his posture. She would surely agree to a minuet or a waltz with him. Darien fervently hoped that Serena was as sweet as she always had been. "No, wait. Darien, you must know something about Serena before you talk to her. She's blind. A week after you left, she was caught in a fire in the summer house that robbed her of her sight. Although Serena is not bitter, she keeps to herself. She's been very quiet for the last five years," Malcolm spoke calmly. He watched as Darien's eyes grew wide. It was better to be blunt then to draw the unfortunate incident out slowly. Darien was stunned, shocked at Malcolm's revelations. He felt anger, a fiery fury that consumed him. Serena was the kindest person he had ever met. This was not supposed to happen to her. Never was it supposed to happen to her. If only he had stayed a week longer, then the fire may never have happened. Then Serena would never have become blind, never would have her sight stolen from her eyes. He could not lighten her despair, but he could remedy her unfortunate situation for the moment. And that was all that mattered to him, seeing his Rena smile her special smile. Darien squared his shoulders, a strange gleam entering his eyes. Without further ado, he strode over to his Rena. He glared at the young men trying to impress her with their silly accomplishments and useless chatter. Darien gazed into her eyes. So beautiful, he thought. They were as shimmering as sapphires, but they were lifeless. Useless and empty, he thought. Why did he have the urge to sit down and cry, to not face the world until he felt stronger? Darien noticed that there were no scars on her face. The flames of the fire did not think to disfigure her, but to rob her of her sight. The flames could be as vengeful and deadly as any other being. She did not deserve this. She did not deserve anything but peace and serenity. Someone had joined her little group, Serena thought sourly. She was in no mood to entertain the hovering gentlemen, nor did she want to smile. She had sat and smiled at their asinine jokes for the past two hours. She had laughed at their moronic riddles. She was tired. She wanted to crawl into her bed and sleep; sleep as if there were no end and no beginning. "Lady Parker, may I have this dance?" Serena knew that voice, the very chords etched into her heart. He had come back. After so long, she had given up hope that he would ever return. Darien Spencer, her heart chanted. His name became a melody, the sweetest melody that she had ever heard. Serena raised her head. Please let me not make a fool of myself, she prayed, please, oh please. She hoped that she was looking in the right direction. She had heard his voice and had assumed that he spoke from somewhere nearby. If only she could see him...if only she could see... Common sense flooded through her. Dance? Did he say that he wanted to dance with her? He was insane if he thought that she could dance. But then that was why she loved him. He was crazy and a ton of fun, so very different from her foppish cousins. All night and every night, Serena had longed to dance, to be whirled around the ballroom on the arms of a dashing prince. But the only problem was that she could not see, could not follow the steps. She had only begun to learn how to dance before the fire. She would be a horrid embarrassment. Somehow the offer was irresistible, coming from her very own Prince Charming. She wanted to dance. She really did. But she couldn't. She simply could not. Serena shook her head sluggishly. Darien stared at her. His Rena all grown up and as beautiful as a blooming rose. He could not believe his eyes. Perhaps, this was all a twisted dream. His sprite was sitting demurely, crowded by hopeful young men. What had happened to his adventurous, light-hearted Rena? Somehow the freedom that she had so treasured had been stolen. Life was unfair - that he knew from experience. But surely this should never have happened. Now why was she foolishly shaking her head at him? She wanted to dance. Darien knew that she did. He saw the way her foot tapped softly to the strings of the orchestra. Impulsively, Darien grabbed her hand despite her shocked expression. He lowered his dark head and kissed the back of her hand chivalrously. Grinning, Darien pulled a protesting Serena into the midst of swirling couples. It was a waltz. The couples whirled around gaily without missing a step. They formed an intricate pattern of motion. Darien held a shocked Serena in his arms as he began the practised steps of the waltz. "Please Darien. Please, I can't dance with you. I cannot! Can you hear me?" Serena was frantic. She felt the safety of Darien's arms around her yet she was afraid that she would embarrass him. Dancing had never been her forte. Darien smirked. She could not dance? Serena was born to dance. He watched her follow the complex footing without any problems. Really, all Rena needed was some confidence, and soon she would be back to her old self. A reserved and demure Rena was not going to be a happy one. She needed to be free. He would even devise some pranks if it meant her happiness. Though truth be told, Darien would be more than delighted to return to his prankster self. He was too old for it, but what did he care? Serena felt it then. She felt as though she were dancing on air, her feet never touching the ground. What was it about this man that made all the most boring things magical? Maybe because you're still in love with him, a little voice chided inside of her head. Serena sighed. If only she could dance forever...If only this moment could last for eternity... Darien caught his breath. Serena's smile was absolutely breath-taking. She was a vision, an angel come to dance with him. Heaven, he must be in heaven. Several golden tendrils, having come loose during the waltz, framed her smiling face. She was so beautiful. She wished she could see his smile. Serena was certain that Darien would be wearing his mischievous grin by that moment. Oh, he had always loved playing tricks on her. They had had such great fun. They had even watched the horses mating together, although she had not been as thrilled as Darien obviously had been. He had called it one of nature's finest moments. She had thought it much too brutally violent for her tastes. The waltz ended, the last chords straining to a final halt. Darien held Serena all the closer before reluctantly letting her go. Tenderly, he held one daintily gloved hand in his own and returned her to Malcolm and Mina. He was not going to let his Rena be admired by a bunch of snivelling, worthless hopefuls. Darien could have sworn that he felt the familiar tug of jealousy ignite from somewhere within him, that awful pull of fury and envy. There was no reason to be jealous. No reason at all. Except for the fact that you don't like all the other men who are busy admiring Rena, a treacherous voice announced inside his head. This was ridiculous, simply absurd. Malcolm lifted a silver brow. Darien accompanying a radiant Serena back to him in the middle of the Bowden Ball. Darien could not have possibly offered for her hand in marriage. But then his brother had always been unpredictable. Why couldn't he see that Serena was still yearning for him? Why couldn't Darien see that? "Your grace," Darien mocked," I believe Lady Parker has had enough excitement for the evening and wishes to go home." In fact, Darien thought, I'll escort her home. Serena frowned, her golden brows furrowing together. She was not going to go home, not in the middle of the Bowden Ball. Not only would it be rude, she would be looked down upon at the other social events during the rest of the Season. Darien was being awfully protective of her. Too protective, in her opinion. Not that it wasn't flattering.... Malcolm turned his attention from his brother to his sister-in-law. Serena's face was flushed with rose, quite apparent despite the rouge on her cheeks. Malcolm was fond of her. She reminded him of Mina in some ways. But really, why was Darien insisting that Serena leave when she evidently did not want to go? "Serena, do you want to leave just yet? I can find Mina and we can make our farewells and be in the carriage destined for home in no time at all," Malcolm suggested. It would be a good excuse to end Mina's minuet with Lord Falcon. Lord Falcon and his wandering hand were bothering Malcolm to a great extent. A child. Why did they all treat her like a little girl who could not make up her mind? Serena groaned inwardly. She did not want to leave. As much as she was delighted to see Darien again, Serena had no intention of letting him ruin her evening. More precisely, her thoughts of him were not going to ruin her evening. Serena knew she spent many hours of her dreary day dreaming about Darien. She pictured how their life would be together if he had not left, if she was not blind, if they had married...Her list of possibilities was endless, not to mention fathomless. Darien frowned at Serena's frown. What could have possible displeased her? He had been gallant, they had danced, and he was proposing to take her home. He would not be deterred. He wanted her to be his Rena again, to see her at the lake or rumpled in her bed after a good night's rest. The latter was out of the question although the thought was tempting. But the former could still be done. It was selfish of him, that he knew, but seeing his Rena again would make it all worthwhile. The woman before him was not his Rena. She was someone exquisitely beautiful who resembled his Rena but could never be her. "Malcolm, I will not be leaving until the ball has ended," Serena informed the duke, quite dashing in his newest Parisian ensemble. "Really, Malcolm, can you not see that Rena is tired? She's exhausted from all this bustle. I'll personally escort her home, so you need not worry. In fact, I'm quite tired myself having returned a few hours earlier," Darien insisted. Why was Rena persisting that she wanted to remain? When Serena was determined, she usually achieved her goal. In addition, Malcolm always had had difficulty saying "no" to her. There was something about her that he could not quite place. "Darien, if you are tired, and no doubt that you are, go home. Serena wishes to remain and I will bring her home when the ball has ended," Malcolm said, his tone insinuating that the discussion was closed. Darien glared at his older brother. If Serena was not going then he was not going either. He would make sure that no man would try something naughty, unlike Malcolm whose eyes were continually fixated on Mina. Serena smiled, a perfectly innocent smile. Darien marvelled at the way her smiles lit up her face and the way the dismal gloom in his heart was lifted. Women were dangerous creatures, Darien thought. Especially when they looked the way his Rena was looking at that moment. If she continued smiling at him in that same manner, he would be twisted around her elegant, little finger in no time. That was not a comforting thought. ------------------------------- Darien was glowering. He had been standing in the same spot for the past hour, his eyes following Serena's every move. It seemed that after their waltz, Rena's admirers were falling over themselves trying to ask her to dance. Being Rena, she had accepted all their offers and had been busy dancing since the last hour. Darien supposed that he could have enjoyed a good game of cards, but he was not in the mood. He knew how he had felt when he saw Rena for the first time in five years, and he knew that the other gentlemen felt exactly the same way: a heady combination of lust and admiration. Serena should have left with him and have gone to bed early. If this continued, there would undoubtedly be more proposals for marriage. Darien was not pleased with that notion. Darien supposed that he could dance, but the thought of dancing with another woman did not appeal to him. Perhaps, his waltz with Rena had spoiled him for other women. Just the thought of the sweet fragrance of her body made him tingle. It really was quite peculiar, how he was lusting after the girl he had once loved like his sister. And it was lust, not love. Never did Darien confuse lust with love again after his small incident in France, one that he chose to forget. ------------------------------------- "Look at him, Malcolm. Why is Darien scowling? He just came home to England and he is scowling," Mina exclaimed. She was baffled at Darien's attitude. "He's scowling because he couldn't persuade Serena to leave the Bowden Ball. And I do believe that Darien may be feeling an inkling of jealousy at Serena's suitors and maybe a little bit more," Malcolm replied. "What little bit more are you talking about? Darien has only returned these past hours," Mina said. Her husband was acting strangely which meant that he either had something up his sleeve or that something was troubling him. "Love, my dear. The wonderful, all-powerful love. I've noticed that Darien has been looking at Serena in another way." Malcolm smiled. Mina was frowning. What was Malcolm thinking? Sometimes as much as she loved him, she could not figure him out. But then Mina loved mysteries. "Malcolm, I know that Darien loves Serena. He has told us so many, many times," Mina declared. "I know that, love. Mina, I'm not talking about love between friends. I'm talking about the love between a man and woman, a love like the one we share," Malcolm replied. It was about time Darien fell in love with Serena. The poor girl had been in love with him for years. Mina looked at the ruggedly handsome face of her husband. The man had something up his sleeve, something wonderful. She wanted to be part of his plan. Oh, Mina knew that Malcolm had a plan. She knew by the secretive smile that was tugging his lips upwards. "Malcolm, spill it. I want to know," Mina insisted, tugging at her husband's arm. Her golden hair spilt against her ivory skin as Malcolm whispered in her ear. Mina laughed with delight. She had always loved playing match-maker. ------------------------------- Did Rena really have to dance twice with that moron? Darien was in a foul mood. He would have asked her to dance again had it not been for her full dancing card. Yes, a dancing card. It had been needed when certain admirers had begun to roll up their sleeves. "Come now, Darien, there should simply be no scowling all evening. Why not dance, have a little fun?" Malcolm smiled innocently, his grey eyes widening. This would be fun, he thought. Darien glared at the man who had denied him the right to take Rena home. If he had taken Rena home as he had suggested in the first place, they could be at the lake. Rena had always like to swim at midnight. She had believed that there was nothing in the world as beautiful as the night sky with its iridescent moon and twinkling stars. And Malcolm had said that Serena had become quite quiet over the years. "All right, brother. Mina's on her way over to Serena. We'll be leaving in a few moments after the ladies say their good-byes. Are you staying with us at Rosehaven?" Malcolm saw the relief rush through his brother. Oh, Malcolm was going to enjoy playing match-maker. Darien managed a weak smile. He could be charming when he chose, but then he never wasted his charm on Malcolm. Rosehaven was Malcolm's London estate. It was a spacious townhouse located on the outskirts of London. Rosehaven was known for its roses, their sweet scent mingling with the air. "Yes, I've missed Rosehaven. I haven't seen it in years. I'll send for my luggage on the morrow," Darien replied. -------------------------------------- After arriving home to Rosehaven, Darien was ready to sleep, sleep as if there were no tomorrow. He had survived the chatter of the fawning ladies at the ball and the bustle of Rosehaven's servants. But Malcolm had requested that he spend some time with Serena first. With that wicked gleam in his eye, Darien knew that his brother was up to some dancing, some horizontal dancing to be precise. So here they were, in Rena's bedroom, making small talk. They had so much to say to one another, but none of it could be voiced in words properly. There would be time, plenty of time to talk all they wanted. Serena's bedroom was tastefully decorated in white and a pale blue. There were no frills and lace because Serena had never been one to admire frivolity. The curtains were drawn and the moon was full, its pearly rays filtering through into the room. "Come closer," she whispered, her lips dry. He obeyed, allowing himself to come in contact with the tips of her cold fingertips. He had not needed to travel to France to discover what his heart yearned for. What he had yearned for had always been here. All the precious time he had wasted had been for naught. He had longed for Serena, for her heart, for her love. She had been right in front of his eyes yet he had not known until now. Serena wished that she could see him. Just once, she prayed. Mina had said that Darien had grown thinner. Serena let her fingers trace the planes of his face. His skin was so soft. Like velvet over steel, she thought. Serena closed her eyes and the picture of a younger Darien entered into her mind. It was her favourite memory though it was becoming distorted. "Darien, my memories are becoming blurred. All of them. Sometimes I can't remember what I look like, or Mina, or Malcolm, or you..." Serena trailed off. She wasn't sure how to proceed. "Then, perhaps we will make some more memories, some that do not need to be seen in order to be felt," Darien replied, his voice was low to match the silence in the room. What was he thinking? He had yet to ask for her hand in marriage. He could not just ravish her and be done with it. Though the thought was very alluring. Rena never knew her affect on men. She certainly didn't know her affect on him. He gazed into her large sapphire eyes. They used to be so full of life, so vibrant and expressive. Now they were empty, almost dull. Yet Darien loved her all the more. She didn't need her eyes to see what her heart felt. Rena always followed her heart, and she was rarely wrong. His breeches were becoming too tight. He had to leave now, before he did something to her that they would both regret in the jarring reality of daylight. "Rena, I have to go now. 'Tis getting late," Darien murmured against her fingers. He kissed each finger tenderly as they passed his lips. "You mustn't leave me until Malcolm returns. I've been such a burden to them both, Mina and Malcolm. I'm sure they're delighted to have someone watch over me during they're absence. They're always so afraid that I cannot manage on my own. Sometimes they treat me like a child," Serena insisted. Darien could not leave her, not now. Serena hated being afraid, afraid of the night. Her fears would come back in the late hours. Fears that she still could not suppress or conquer. The candles were burning steadily, the wax puddling at the bottom into an unwanted heap. Darien was not about to leave a frightened Rena alone. "Hush," he whispered, trying to soothe her apprehensive nerves. He pulled her into his arms, his hands rubbing her back to comfort her. That was not a good idea, Darien thought wryly. Now Serena was in contact with his burning shaft. Hopefully, she would not notice. He really was quite tall, Serena thought. Her head resting lightly on his chest. He was so warm. She could sleep in his arms for an eternity if he would only let her. She pressed unknowingly closer into his hard body to escape the chills of the room. Really this stupid night-gown does nothing to keep a woman warm, she thought. Really that stupid night-gown does nothing to hide her charms from a man, Darien thought. Especially a lusty one. She should not have pressed closer. It was only going to make it harder for him to resist. But he was a gentleman, after all. Serena frowned. Something was poking into her abdomen. Something hard. She lifted her head. She wished that she could see, could see the deep blue of his eyes. Some said that the eyes were the window to one's soul. She wondered what those people would think of her pair of eyes. "Darien, something is poking at me," Serena murmured. It really wasn't that uncomfortable, she thought. But she was curious as to what it was. Something poking at her? Darien groaned inwardly. He knew full well what was poking at her. Rena would not want to know what it was. It was not something that good girls ever talked about. But then, Rena was different, wildly different. He remembered her happy chatter at how she had been able to catch a toad. Rena had not shied away from the ugly creature. She had loved it, bringing it home. Darien smiled as he remembered the chaos that had ensued. No, Rena was different from the other girls. "Darien, do you know what is poking at me? It really isn't that unpleasant, but I want to know what it is," Serena finished. He had forgotten about her damned curiosity, something that he should never have forgotten. Darien was at a loss of words. How did one go about explaining that the bulge was completely natural and part of the male anatomy. Being Rena, she would also want to know where it was located and what it did. Darien sighed. Despite the loss of her eyesight, Rena had not changed much at all. "Rena, why don't you lie down on the bed? I'll sit right beside you all night, so you need not worry that I'll leave you," Darien asked. Standing like this, with her in his arms and pressed against his rigid body, was doing wicked things to his insides. Things that he did not want to analyze. Why was he talking to her as if she were a petulant child? She was nineteen and could very well become another man's wife soon enough. But why did her heart ache at the thought of not being Darien's wife? Sister. He had loved her like a sister and not like a lover. "I'm not a child, Darien. I'm nineteen, old enough to become a man's wife and bear his children," Serena said, her chin tilted upwards proudly. She had always been proud and always would be. The thought of Rena, his darling sprite, bearing another man's child angered him. Darien controlled himself. He was not one to be upset. He was happy that she had suitors. Really, he was. Now if only he could convince himself of that sordid, little fact. Close contact with Rena was another thing he had to avoid in the future. Now where was Malcolm? Darien was puzzled, but then it would come as no surprise if Malcolm and Mina were in the midst of creating another child. No surprise at all. "Seriously Rena, why don't you lie down on your bed? I promise I won't leave you," Darien insisted. He let his arms drop from their previous position of surrounding Serena's waist. Gently, he picked up one of Serena's small hands and placed it into his own larger ones. Darien guided Serena to her bed. Funny how the bed seemed so inviting, he thought. Serena obeyed, lying down on her bed. She hated the daemons that plagued her at night for it had been at night when the fatal fire had occurred. She despised the memories of the fire, the flames devouring the summer house. She had gone to the summer house that night to mourn, mourn the loss of Darien. She had always loved nature, felt at peace in its presence. Therefore, she had went to the summer house to think, to think of her future, her life and its strange incidents. Serena did not remember how the fire had started, but she remembered the inferno that had ensued. Oh, she remembered it well, too well. It still haunted her, coming back in flashes at night. Darien sat down on the bed beside Serena's still body. He watched her chest move up and down in the rhythm of her breathing. How could she be so calm? Darien's own heart had been pounding wildly, its pulse racing at a breakneck speed. He had so much to tell her, so much to say. But all that he could say would be inadequate in this situation. Rena had always been there for him whenever he had needed her. And he hadn't been there for her. She had given him all that she could, and he had taken it all, never giving back. He would give her the world if he could, Darien vowed. "Tell me about France," Serena implored. She wanted to know about France, the place that had so appealed to Darien. The place where Darien had lived for five years. Her hair was long and loose, golden threads spilling onto plump pillows. Her face was serene, illuminated by the moonlight. Her eyes were open, her mouth poutingly red. Serena had certainly grown-up during his absence. Darien couldn't resist. He slanted his head downwards and kissed her temple. Her skin was so soft, just like the rest of her. Serena felt the sudden movement of air, followed by Darien's lips on her temple. They were gentle and tender. She felt her head begin to spin, spin with something that she had yet to understand. Serena felt Darien's lips begin to rain kisses on her closed eyes, her pert nose, her cheekbones...and finally, reaching the destination of her lips. It would have been a chaste kiss had Serena not responded. Darien groaned inwardly. How was he going to stay away from her? He was not going to take advantage of his situation. Malcolm, being as honourable as he was, would want to meat out a suitable punishment. But Darien couldn't resist. He kissed her harder. He wanted more, needed more. His kisses became like a tempest, powerful and brutal. Darien knew that he was punishing Rena, punishing her for the attention she had paid the other men, men that were not himself. The door burst open and Malcolm stood in the doorway. What he saw came somewhat as a surprise. Darien and Serena were locked in a passionate embrace, their mouths crushing against each other hungrily. Somehow during their shared kiss, Darien had rolled on top of Serena. His arms were bearing most of his weight so as not to crush Serena. "Darien!" Malcolm was yelling. That younger brother of his seemed to get in as much trouble as Serena. Only it was much worse when the two of them happened to be together. Even in his befuddled state, Darien heard Malcolm. Damnation, he cursed. Why was his life so complicated? And Rena, what must she be thinking? Darien pulled himself off of Serena's sweet body and closed his eyes. When Malcolm yelled, it usually was not a good sign. Serena felt the draft of cold air hit her body. Her body seemed to mourn the loss of Darien's body and the heat they had shared. Malcolm. Malcolm would flay Darien alive if he saw what had just happened. It really wasn't Darien's fault. She had participated in it as much as he had. "Off the bed, Darien. To think that my own brother is enjoying my sister-in-law and could possibly be taking advantage of her during my short absence, boggles my mind. I would like to see you in the library now and assess the damage done. Serena, I'll send Mina to you," Malcolm ordered. He had originally thought that leaving Darien alone with Serena would start some sparks. The sparks had not only started, they had caused a fiery combustion. ------------------------------------ Mina sat with Serena on her bed. After being ordered by Malcolm to attend her sister, Mina had hurried down the hall. Judging by her husband's stormy expression, something had occurred of which he strongly disapproved. Mina had listened to Serena's story, the entire length of what had happened on her bed. Malcolm was over-reacting yet again. Mina sighed. Malcolm was probably giving Darien hell in the library. "Mina, I liked it...his kiss. I've waited so long for it, and it was all that I thought it would be and more, much more..." Serena confessed with a dreamy smile plastered on her face. That girl had only one weakness, Mina thought, and it wasn't the loss of her eyesight. It was Darien. Serena had been longing for him ever since she was a girl of fourteen. Somethings never changed. "Rena, you better hope that Malcolm has left him in one piece," Mina began. Seeing Serena's panicky expression, she added, "And it would be best if you did not intervene." --------------------------------- "I leave you to talk to Serena and you end up on her bed. Just how far did the two of you go?" Malcolm's face was contorted with anger. He was assuming the role of Serena's guardian, something that he did very well. Serena had a bright future. An earl had asked for her hand in marriage just that morning. And Darien was intent on ruining it. "We did not do anything more than kiss. Malcolm, I've already told you that many, many times. Why are you persisting in such a small matter?" It was going to be a long night judging by Malcolm's look of censure. Darien frowned. The kiss that he had shared with his Rena had not been lewd. It had been special, too special. Darien was still shaken by his impulsive act of passion. It had been much more than lust. It had been as though the two of them were bonding, emotionally and physically. "I am persisting in such a small matter because Serena has the chance to become an earl's wife. Not that it would matter much to Serena. The poor girl has been in love with you for the longest time. And you, being the customary idiot you are, have not noticed. Darien, do not play these games with her. She is not a woman who is accustomed to your perverse games of love. You will only break her heart in the end. You do understand, don't you?" Darien closed his eyes, hiding his tempestuous blue eyes. Rena had been in love with him. How could he not have noticed? Darien understood why Malcolm would tell him. He had hurt Rena once and Malcolm did not want him to hurt her again. Darien did not want to hurt his Rena again. Never again, he vowed. ------------------------------------ It was noon. The sun was high in the sky, a golden orb alighting the world. Darien had taken Serena down to the lake, her favourite place in the entire world. She had not been to the lake since the fire. Serena was dressed in a loose-fitting sack dress. On any other woman it would have looked ridiculous, but somehow it seemed perfectly normal on Serena. And it did nothing to hide her curves, Darien thought wryly. Holding his hand, Serena had very merrily walked to the lake barefooted. Dressed in a baggy, white shirt and a pair of dark breeches, Darien was content. For once in his life, he knew what he had wanted. Serena was sitting in her usual spot, her body cushioned by the lengthy grass. Her face was serene. It seemed that Serena was at peace with the world. Darien smiled and sat down beside her, watching the stones he threw skip across the water. Serena had always been mesmerized by that silly accomplishment of his. Not anymore, he thought, not when she cannot see it. But Serena had grown stronger and braver during his absence, and that was only one of the reasons he admired her so. Rena didn't want his pity, and he was not going to give it to her, not when she had accepted her affliction. "Describe the lake to me. I have not seen it in so long," Serena asked. It was a simple request. The breeze had ruffled Serena's golden hair, blowing stray tendrils here and there. Her cheeks were flushed from the slight chill in the air. She inhaled the fresh air, as she slowly dipped a toe into the water. Darien watched her, marvelling at her obvious trust in him. So damned innocent, he thought. Rena was not afraid that he would kiss her again as he had done quite thoroughly the previous night. She had only wanted his company, only wanted to hear his tales of France. "The water is clear today. There are faint ripples where the willow's branches brush the water's surface. The water is calm, lapping gently onto the earth," Darien said. Darien had thought a lot about what had happened last night and of Malcolm's words. Really, he thought, how could anyone fall in love during the incredibly short period of one day? He had. But then, he had always loved Rena. His love for her had only stretched to an endless horizon. And to think that he once loved her only as a sister, left him dumbfounded at his own idiocy. Serena smiled. She had hardly slept last night. She had still been excited by Darien's kiss. She had tossed and turned restlessly, but she had not found the sleep she sought. But now, here she was with Darien. He had been distant with her at breakfast, hardly acknowledging her presence. She had been disappointed, only to be delighted when he asked her to accompany him to the lake. "Rena, there is a reason why I asked you to come to the lake. There is something that I want to say," Darien began. Why was he so nervous? Why was he beginning to stammer like an untried boy? Serena sensed Darien's hesitation. France had no doubt left her mark on him, perhaps scarring him in some way. Was he in love? Perhaps, he was already betrothed to a French beauty. Why was she so foolishly believing that Darien could possibly love her? "Rena," Darien said tentatively. Serena was looking pale, the rose flush having left her cheeks. "Oh, you need not tell me Darien. We've been friends for ages. I'll understand if you don't want to tell me. There's no obligation whatsoever. Really, there isn't," Serena rushed on tensely. Need not tell her that he loved her and wanted to marry her? He would marry her if she would only accept the inept younger brother of a duke. Darien hoped fervently that his Rena would find him deserving of such an honour. And an honour it was, spending the rest of his days with Rena. "Rena, just give me a few minutes. And contrary to your belief, I do have to say it. It's very important to me that you hear it. Please," Darien watched as Serena nodded her head. He wanted her permission before he asked her. He wanted her to know that she had a choice. Without further preamble, he launched into his rehearsed speech, having perfected it the previous night. "Lady Serena Parker, I have travelled to France and returned a much wealthier man. I do have an estate in the country, among England's hills of rolling green. I may not be an earl or a duke, or anyone with a grand title, but I did have the great privilege of knowing you. Yes, you. Rena, knowing you made me the better man. You're the sweetest person that I have ever met. I loved you as a sister before. I love you as a man loves a woman now. Marry me, Rena." Darien watched as Serena stared out at the lake. Lone tears fell from the liquid blue of her eyes. She had waited so long to hear him say those words. But was he even marrying her for love? Darien must feel obligated to marry her after Malcolm's lecture. Certainly, she could never aspire to be as captivating as France's abundance of women. "I can't. It's not that I don't want to, you see. It's just that I've wanted to for so long. I've only wanted you to love me. But I'm not sure that you do. You've changed and I've changed since the past five years. I cannot be sure...and I do want to marry for love," Serena whispered. Her voice was a hoarse rasp. Was he hearing her right? She did not want to marry him because she thought that he did not love her. He had changed, that was true. But he had changed for the better. He had changed so he could deserve her. France had not offered him everything that he had sought. He loved her. It was as simple and as complex as that. He had to make her understand before they both would make the biggest mistake of their life. "Rena, Malcolm could never convince me to do anything that I didn't want to do. Although I do admit that he can be quite persuasive when he chooses to be. I want to marry you because it is my choice. I want to marry you because I love you. You lost your eyesight, yet I am the one who was blind. Blind to not have seen your love. Blind to not have loved you when I had the chance," he began. "I love you. I really do. My love is a promise, a promise that will bind the both of us until I cock up my toes. And once my love is given, I could never forget it or let it disappear. Rena, if you would let me, I would be your eyes. I would describe the world to you, every little detail if you wished it. I remember someone had once asked me if it would be better to marry a friend or a lover. I didn't know the answer until now. I would rather marry my soulmate. Rena, you are my soulmate and don't you dare doubt that fact. I know it like I know my name," Darien finished. He had never meant to say so much, never planned to tell her everything in his heart. Darien embraced Serena. Serena felt the tears. They were not her customary tears of grief but of happiness. She knew that Darien meant every word the he had uttered. Every single word. "Darien, I love you -" Serena was interrupted as Darien pulled her all the closer. "I know, love. I know," Darien whispered, his lips touching her flaxen hair. Until death do we part, he thought. --------------------------------- A year later The first shrill cry announced the arrival of their daughter. Serena was fatigued but she wanted to know. She needed to know how her daughter looked like. Darien, after successfully persuading Mina to let him watch the birthing process, was delighted. His first daughter. It was their child, his and Serena's, conceived in love. It didn't matter that their first child was not a son. They would have plenty of time to fill the house with children. Darien had wanted at least half of dozen. "Darien, describe her to me," Serena requested. Darien smiled. He had kept his promise. He was her pair of eyes, describing the world to her. Rena was always so thrilled to hear his descriptions no matter how exaggerated or peculiar they were. Darien bent down and kissed Serena's temple. "Only for you, Rena. Only for you," he whispered. "I know I won't live forever, but forever I'll be loving you." -Author Unknown The End. ------------------------------- Now that you have successfully reached the end of the story, I would appreciate if you would write me to tell me what you thought of it. I hope that certanily isn't too much to ask. -------------------------------- I have been working on something that is not for everyone. It's suitable for older readers and does not show Darien/Mamoru/Endymion in a flattering way. This story is probably inspired by my jaded cynicism that has miraculously reappeared since the beginning of the school year. It's still untitled. What happens when the perfect marriage turns sour? What happens when the perfect man is a monster? What happens when love just ain't enough? It's a beautiful autumn day, the multi-colored leaves floating efortlessly in the arms of the wind. The air is surprisingly fresh despite its evident chill. The sky is a clear blue, cloudless and bright. I have never felt so alive, so free. It has been a long while since I have felt this way. It seems that an eternity has already passed, my life eclipsed by sorrow and pain. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Serena Tsukino. It may mean nothing to you, but nevertheless, it is my name. You'll probably want my description. I have never felt the need to describe myself until now. Maybe my description will help you understand the story that follows. My life story. For beginners, I'm a slender blonde. I have a pair of blue eyes, my former husband had once described them as sapphires, and a more or less pert nose. He had also described my mouth as generous with its pouting cherry lips. Those were his words not mine. It does sound somewhat farfetched but it certainly sounded infinitely better when he had said it. But then, I treasured everything and anything that he spouted. As I mentioned before, I'm slender and not very tall. Most people will find themselves towering over me should they feel the need to approach me. My height doesn't bother me. If there are tall people in the world, there are certainly short ones. I find it difficult to talk about myself. I'm not usually so...so open eversince my disappointing marriage. In other words, I try not to talk to strangers. I was briefly married. You will have to forgive me because I seem to have lost my capability of speech. It's still hard for me to talk about my marriage. My counselor insists that I tell someone and I chose you. I think that it may be easier to have a stranger listen, an outsider who has yet to meet me. If we ever meet, please remember what I have said here today. I shall look forward to meeting the kind person that has devoted his/her time to listen to my sordid tale. Perhaps, we will be friends. Friends. What would I have done if I had not had so many friends to help me? I would not have survived, would not have been able to live through the ordeal. The bruises have faded yet I still feel scarred, scarred inside. No one, woman or man, deserves to have gone through.... I sometimes wonder if it would have been better if I had been austitic, unable to feel anything or be touched by anyone. I'm sure that it would have been better to feel nothing than to have felt too much. But then, I believe that nothing on earth can rival the feeling of being loved and cherished. Nothing on earth, in my esteem. I was briefly married to a man that I considered the man of my dreams. It turned out that he was more suitably described as the man of my nightmares. I was in love, blinded by the sheer force of it. I was young and impulsive, not understanding how to be a good wife. A good wife, those were his exact words. He always knew how to hurt me, how to cut me deeply. But he always knew how to love me, how to make me the happiest woman alive. He was such a contradiction that it made it difficult for me to understand him. Being the naive girl that I was, I believed that our love would see us through thick and thin. Our love didn't last. I had thought that it was eternal, lasting through the fiery depths of hell and the subliminal recesses of heaven. I believed fervently in that twisted theory for so long...so long until I realized the truth. I woke up one morning with such a crystal clear answer to my problems: face the truth. The truth had hurt; it still hurts. Facing the truth was my ultimate solution, my prayer for the future. Back then, I didn't live for the future, I lived in the present. That morning, I did a lot of thinking, rethinking my life plans. I had always wanted to do something, something big. I had never gotten a chance in school, being a barely passing student. It wasn't that I didn't understand, it was merely that I didn't apply myself to doing the work. It was my mistake, an error that I wish I had corrected. I had looked for an escape from my dreary school life. And he had appeared magically. Never look a gift horse in the mouth. To be truthful, I should never have listened to that silly advice. I should have looked at him and seen him for the monster that he was. It should not have mattered that he was damned handsome. But back then, I put a lot of faith in appearances. I didn't want to be seen anywhere near the school geek. Poor Melvin, he was such a sweet boy. And I never gave him the chance. But I have learned an important lesson: appearances can be deceiving. People never are what they seem to be. Unfortunately, I learned my lesson the hard way and a few months too late. I'm sure you're curious as to who I married. Darien Chiba. That was his name. He was as handsome as the devil. If a man could be described as beautiful, it would have been him. He had the bluest eyes that I have ever seen, as blue as the sky and as deep as the ocean. His skin was a startling tan from being in the sun for far too long. That only enhanced the dazzling white of his teeth, perfectly shaped pearls. He had a mop of midnight-black hair. I remember how his bangs would constantly cover his eyes. It would annoy him so. His body could rival those of the greek gods. I remember going to a museum for a school field trip once and gaping at the magnificence of the greek statues of their gods. Darien possessed that type of body, lean and muscular. And yes, if it matters to anyone, he was well-endowed. He was too good to be true. I had often wondered what I had done to deserve him. I cannot not even answer that now much less before. I was eighteen when I first met him. He took my breath away, literally and figuratively. He was wearing a light cerulean blue shirt that brought out the blue in his eyes. His faded jeans were snug around his long legs and rear. The sun was a halo around his head. I thought that he was an angel come down to earth for a dangerous mission. Those fantasies were an integral part of my life at that time which would explain why I fell for him. I fell like a tree for him, fast and hard. He had such an angelic face, a quirky smile tugging at his lips challenging me to come closer. I was partial to challenges. I tended to avoid them being not a very ambitious person. I edged closer to him, hoping that he would not notice my strange behaviour. I'm sure that I was quite a queer sight to see creeping around the park in broad daylight. And being my naturally un-coordinated self, I tripped on a fallen branch. I was too occupied trying to watch the mysterious angel without being seen. I went down, much like the Titanic now that I think about it. I probably yelped weakly before I hit the earth. Luckily, the grass cushioned my awkward landing. I was mortified. I was hoping with all my might that the handsome stranger had not witnessed my fall. And being the ever-perceptive man that he was, Darien had been following my bizarre movements all around the park. He was amused while I was humiliated, utterly humiliated. So much for first impressions. I held my breath as he strode towards me. Out of all the girls in the crowded park, he chose me. I was feeling a combination of pride and smugness. Wasn't I immature? I straightened my hair, tugging furiously at a small twig that had somehow imbedded itself in my left odango. Oh, I forgot to tell you about my hairstyle. I thought it quite unique. My hair was extremely long and leaving it unbound usually caused quite a few accidents. So I had decided to bind them in two buns at the top of my head. My hair flowed out from the two buns into pigtails. Why would an eighteen-year old wear her hair in such a way? Simple, I craved attention and I loved being different. I wanted to be a trend-setter, the one that all the young girls looked up to. The two things that I gained out of being the proud owner of that peculiar hairstyle were a few awestruck stares and a repellent nickname. Odango Atama. It translated into being 'meatball head' or even worse, 'doughnut head.' So there I was, a meatball head sitting on the grass trying to pull a twig out of her hair. Embarrassment didn't quite describe how I was feeling. Darien Chiba was much more attractive up close. I considered faking a swoon but I decided against it. Unfortuantely, I was also the owner of a flamboyant dramatic streak. You must not think much of me. But I digress. I was gaping at him. For the few times in my life, I was speechless. He had a pair of lips that I could only describe as sensual. The man exuded magnetism and sensuality. I was helplessly drawn closer to him. I suppose that you could call it a new chapter in my life story. I was thinking of naming the chapter "Ignorantly helpless." "Can I help you, miss?" His voice was a rough yet melodious timbre. I was mesmerized. I took the bait, the hook, the line and the sinker. "Yes," I breathed. I was hoping that my breath didn't smell too odious. I remember thinking how he was such a gentleman, kind and courteous. I gazed into his eyes, drowning in an ocean of blue. He offered me his hand and I placed my smaller one trustingly into his. He pulled me smoothly from my sprawl on the grass and into a standing position. I marvelled at his strength, his sinewy grace. I should have known that it was all an act, an Oscar-winning performance. But I could never have guessed, could never have imagined even in my wildest dreams. "Are you okay? That fall looked nasty. Maybe I can see if you sprained anything, if that's fine with you," he insisted. How could I refuse an angel? Why couldn't I have seen past his appearance? Why did I play the fool? I agreed readily, nodding enthusiastically. His hand was warm as it slowly touched my ankle. It was simply divine. His hand brushed itself gently across my ankle bone. I wasn't hurt in any way, save for a little damage to my ego. He allowed his fingers to trace small circles around the protruding bone. I found it ticklishly erotic. "I'm okay. It was just a fall. Didn't hurt me much," I managed to whisper. Foolish, foolish girl. When will I ever learn? He smiled, his teeth glinting impressively in the sun. He reminded me of Hollywood and the movies with his good looks. I really loved dimples and Darien Chiba just happened to be the possessor of an extraordinary pair. "Are you sure? You could have twisted something on the way down. I'm Darien Chiba by the way." He was so sure of himself, so confident that I would melt. And I did. I melted like butter, oozing and spilling all over the place. My mind retreated as my pounding heart seized control. I had a lamentable tendency to think with my heart and not with my head. That can be perceived as a strength, but in this case, it was an apalling flaw. I wasn't perfect and even now I'm laden with flaws. I nervously introduced myself. I'm sure that it sounded pathetic and pitiful: "I'm Serena Tsukino. And I don't think I twisted something because I'm quite used to landing on the ground. Happens all the time and everywhere." I groaned inwardly at the horrid way it sounded. It was the beginning of 'our beautiful relationship.' I blossomed under his gaze, blushing profusely at his elaborate compliments. I felt wanted; I felt needed. Somewhere deep inside me, Darien Chiba struck a familiar chord, the song of my heart. --------------------------------------------------- Extremely short preview of : LIGHT IN THE TUNNEL --------------------------------------------------- His eyes were playing tricks on him, Jadeite thought. The illusion of the beautiful sprite was too lovely to be real. The sprite's skin glistened from the drops of water covering her. Her azure eyes twinkled with merriment as she frolicked unashamedly in the small lake. Her laughter reached Jadeite's ears with a sweet clarity. He had found the Elysian Fields of the legends, the blessed sanctuary of the holy dead. Selenity sensed that someone was watching her water play. It really was immature of her to run off to splash in the water, but she couldn't resist the urge. It had been an irresistible idea especially with the warm weather that had recently graced the area. Malachite frowned at Jadeite's goofy grin. Selenity had been unwise to come out to the lake alone, so he had followed her. If something had happened to her, Endymion would never forgive him. Selenity had never met Jadeite previously because Jadeite had been on a mission of pacification. Malachite's frown deepened. Jadeite did not know that the woman, he was ogling, was Endymion's wife. But then it was difficult to tell, Selenity was not what one expected as a wife for the Prince of Darkness.