Masquerade || Forbidden
There was something special about hot breath against one’s neck.
Her father—may the sun bless his reign—decided upon a masquerade ball for her coming out to society. Every face was hidden under cages of silk and taffeta or lace wound into wondrous designs. She thought it a delightful way to mingle with the different people both in the court and surrounding villages.
Being the youngest meant the most freedom from the life tied to the crown—it brought the most ridicule with it. The drawback of not having to rule and reign by the sun.
“Pardon me, may I have the next dance?” A graveled voice spoke from opposite her and her current dance partner—who she surmised was one of the elder Uchiha children. The man held out a gloved hand toward her. She had danced two sets with the current stranger. It would be rude to pass up the opportunity to dance with someone new.
“I’ve held your attention long enough milady, thank you for gracing me.” The Uchiha man bowed and passed her hand into the grip of the strangers. He mustn’t have danced much this eve for it was cold set in her hand. His blood hadn’t the chance to catch up to the rest of the party.
“Good evening, sir. Thank you for your interest in a dance.” She smiled up at him though it wouldn’t be received. Her cheeks scratched at the inside of the caged mask veil. It covered her face, even her hair wouldn’t shine in the golden candlelight of the dance hall. Her eyes were the only thing people could see. It gave the advantage of hiding who she was all the more to everyone. At the close of the night, she would be freed like a dove from a cage.
If anyone spoke ill of her to her face in the evening she would be free to point them out. Though, no one outside of her family knew of this little plan. Several others wore caged masks or donned hair in a pink hue to celebrate her coming of age. The family would use that to their advantage.
“Of course. It’s a pleasure to be dancing with someone so radiant.” It sounded like there was a smile behind his voice, though it was impossible to tell. Contrary to a caged mask, this man wore a mask shaped as a tree, his flaming red hair making up the leaves in the branches at the top of his head. Full autumn. His eyes blended in with the stained bark. A beautiful and rich earthen color. The robes he wore looked to be a blended tweed, adding to the bark-like aesthetic. Though the fabric was uncommon in this part of the world, it worked well with what he wore. She liked it. It was different.
“Thank you for the compliment. I’d ask a name to more formally extend my appreciativeness, but I think that would spoil the purpose of the evening for everyone if we knew who one another was.” She laughed as he spun her in a small circle. A hoard of people walked by, bringing up a repulsive smell. It took all her effort not to groan or vomit into her mask. It grew and grew into the base of her throat. Then a pull deep in her throat, as if something were trying to smother her, the stench was overwhelming.
As she spun back into the man's grasp she heard a small crack.
“My apologies, lady. It seems my shoulder is not as healed as I would have liked. I’m afraid this is where we part.”
“Oh,” her gaze widened as she took in the man's stance, one arm clutching the opposite shoulder tightly. “I’m so sorry. Would you like me to fetch someone for physical care?”
He shook his head, red hair flying. “No, thank you. I think it’s time I retire this body for the evening. Thank you, Princess, for a wonderful dance. You truly are as stunning and graceful as I’ve heard.” Her body froze as the man gave a subtle bow, using the grip on his injured shoulder to give it an air of formality. “Perhaps you could dance with me again some night? I’ll send note of a time and place.”
He turned into the crowd before she could call after him. Another body quickly took the chance to dance with her, and several more after until the masks were dropped and everyone cheered. Several faces ecstatic at having danced with her, and seldom few in horror as they realized who it was they had slandered against.
~*~
Three evenings later a crow tapped against her window. Outlined as ink on black paper by the golden light of her candle, of which was lit for the purpose of reading perfectly normal texts—nothing else.
“What do you have, little dear?” She trailed a finger down the feathers of the bird, enjoying their softness as she unspooled the piece of paper he’d dropped into her hand.
Tonight | Westward Pond | Willow Tree | Dance and a Kiss
Her body grew warm, a flush creeping up behind her ears that grew deaf to the sound of paper hitting floor. The Westward Pond was forbidden, the reeds by the lake were known for snakes and all manner of demonic creatures that were ready to prey.
But with the moon's blessing, darkness was dispelled by waters at night so long as her gaze met the surface. She would be safe. Besides, she was meeting with a man who felt full of spirit. And the willows were enough away from the waters to be safe. And many knew the old legends were there because the grounds in the area grew unsafe with each rain from spring and fall. The ground was too saturated by the underground rivers to hold up the dance pavilion safely for crowds and parties. And the rivers washed unsightly things from nearby plots of land. Pieces of wood, bones, sometimes whole bodies if a rain was terrible.
She sat a moment, realization dawning on her face. That was why the stories of disappearing people showing up in the pond happened. They simply washed up there. All the more reason to believe that a party of two would do no harm. Legends or not.
The bird pecked her finger, drawing a small bead of blood, and few off—effectively drawing her back to her senses. The man had sent a note, the one who knew who she was behind all her cloths and cage—had called her graceful—that he knew her by her grace.
She stuck her bleeding finger in her mouth to quell the bleeding as she rushed about her room for a suitable gown for dancing amidst the trees.
A dress strewn with emerald dye and golden treads was quickly wrapped upon her shoulders as she found her silken caged mask and carefully snuck out her garden doors. The lilac bushes bled against her arms, coating her skin in the light scent.
It did not take her long to reach the place written on the note.
The man stood, a hand outstretched for which the crow perched itself, happily picking at something in the palm on his hands.
He still wore his mask, of which she was grateful for having worn hers.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Princess of the Sun, of the flowers that bloom in the spring.”
“It seems you know my name, yet I’ve not the courtesy of knowing yours. Or your station.”
His body turned to fully face her, the grain in his hands scattering to the ground as he fell into a bow. “The name I wear tonight is one not known to me, so how should I pass it to you, dear lady?”
She laughed at his coy joke and stepped closer to him. The crying willow trees catkin filled the air with a pleasant scent as the man spun her in dance after dance to a soft hummed tune.
“Tell me, do you know the legends of where we dance?” He asked as he dipped her low against the grown before lifting her back into the air with a sweeping spin.
She shook her head. “I know of stories of nursemaids and frightened lips. But truly, with the goddess of the moon and the king of the sun reigning, there’s nothing to fear here. And I know I am in company of which is pure spirit.”
He spun her once more. “Whatever do you mean by pure spirit?”
A laugh bubbled from her lips, “I’m meaning that you give no feeling of ill-will in my spirit. I can feel that you are true to your intentions and that they are good. I do not mind meeting in such a place if it means I can dance with you.”
Words ceased as his humming pulled at her soul.
Dawn began to spread her fingers across the sky, pulling Sakura from her daze. She hadn’t realized how much time had passed as she lay slowly swaying in the man’s arms.
“By morning, it’s quite so morning now.” She braced herself against the mans chest with her arms to look up at him—his eyes wide behind his mask. “I should be returning before anyone notices that I’ve gone. Send me another note and I would be happy to dance with you once more. Perhaps you’ll learn of a name to give me.” Though he couldn’t see her face, she smiled as was curtesy, and fled back towards her rooms. Thankful she had done so. The hours of dancing had replaced the sweet smell of lilac with rot upon her skin. She would need to bathe again and hope that she didn’t smell too strongly for the man to send another missive.
~*~
The second, third, fourth, and so on missives came by way of crow. Each night it took to nipping at her finger until she bled, but she did not mind it. A mindless creature was designed for one purpose—follow instincts.
She was trying to figure out what hers were with this man. Each night they danced into a haze until morning came—each slow and beautiful spin sent her mind into a daze. Each night when she pulled away the man seemed surprised, perhaps just as her that morning had come to chase them away. But tonight would be different. Three moons they had danced under, the air grew colder with each delicate hum from his throat—the soothing sound that vibrated against her head as she leaned against his chest.
Same Garden | Light Clothes | No Masks
He held the same idea as she. Confession.
No longer willing to hide themselves behind masks and dead dances. Faces were for the living with hearts beating in their chests. Hers was ready to lead from her ribs and bleed for his tune and pleasure.
Or not quite that far, but still. Her affections had grown, as had her persistence in asking his name every eve as the sun came for them. He had yet to tell her, but tonight was the night.
They were going to bare all with each other and step freely into the sun with each other.
She donned her finest dress, one she had always dreamed of falling in love in, and tidied up her hair and perfume. The olive tree flower’s scent stained her skin in a beautiful and deep complexity.
His face was all the more beautiful than she had expected. A smooth sandy complexion set his eyes and hair apart in such otherworldliness that it stilled her movements and heart. From his mannerisms and way of speech, the excellent suits he wore, and the aura of beauty about him, the man before her had to be a Dux or Prince of some sort. There was no others in the world who were as beautiful as those blessed by the celestial beings above.
“Good evening, my dear Blossom. I believe that it’s time we had a true and proper dance.” He extended a gloveless hand out toward her.
Her heart screamed in her chest as she laid her hand in his, relishing in a new warmth from him. He had always been so cold, but the excitement of the evening must have brought a sort of life to his self and being.
“I’ve oft’ wondered what sort of face lay hidden behind your mask. It’s beautiful.” She let a finger trail down his jaw as they swayed to his humming tune.
“Tis’ my face. No longer borrowed or stolen. Truly mine you receive this evening.” He smiled down at her with the grace of the stars above. Dazzling her soul and winning her heart.
“And do I finally get to learn of your name, dearest?” He spun her in a circle, their shoes touching against the grassy path to the lake.
“Perhaps so, though the sound of dearest has my spirit soaring.” He whispered in her ear, his breath hot against her neck. It sent a river down her spine. “But first, why don’t you more formally introduce yourself to me? Your intentions in all of this—meeting me and all.”
“Are you not the one who invited me? Should I not hear your intentions first?” She quipped with a sly look out the corner of her eyes.
“Truly you are deserving, but perhaps it is more important that you came. And will come for me.” More hot breath against the shell of her ear, melting the will of her heart to play coy.
There was no fun in playing games when one truly wanted to win right away. “You knew who I was the first night we met. It intrigued me. As I continued to meet you, you continued to see me for who I was. As though you were seeing me for my soul. It readily became a feeling I sought after and craved. And I am hoping that you feel the same for me—”
Her words were quickly sealed with a chaste kiss against her lips. For a moment her heart sang until he leaned his forehead against hers and spoke. “From the first night we danced I knew that you were something different. A soul worth fighting for, not a body to be had and used.”
An odd way of speaking in romance to the one you loved, but it felt genuine and sweet. Delicate, she was a delicate prize to be treasured and kept.
She opened her eyes to his gaze burning into hers. She would melt in his arms if he only gave her the chance.
“I knew then that you were special, unlike anything else I’ve ever encountered. And I would do anything to keep you with me. I wanted to see you again and again just to feel your soul in my arms. And I would love to keep it all our days.”
“That sounds so truly beautiful.”
He smiled. “And what do you say to a formal introduction my love?”
“I am Sakura Haruno, daughter of the sun. And I believe you’ve held my heart.” A smile crept it’s way onto her face as the man continued spinning her in a circle, further away from the lake and back into the arms of the trees, the moon in her fullness shining overhead. Her body felt lighter than air as he spun her around in circles faster than before.
Something moved by the lake.
“I am Sasori of the Reeds. I hope you’ll stay in my grasp forever.” He kissed her once more, a kiss so filled with love the need for air never arose from her lungs. He released her and spun her by the hand.
There was a pile of fabric by the lake—oddly familiar.
“Where shall we go from here, dearest Sasori? Shall I introduce you to my—” her voice trailed off. It didn’t feel all the weight of importance to introduce the man to her father. Her elder sisters and brothers would by requirement, but she was the youngest. Mainly left alone as an unneeded extra child in the line of the sun, an extra star in a sky that was full. Perhaps she was allowed to fall as stars did and settle somewhere soft in a warm and tender embrace.
“What were you saying my dearest Sakura?” Her name sounded like velvet let from his tongue.
“I think it not important anymore, truly. Let us continue in our dance.” She spun him around, watching as he came to a stop with the glittering lake behind him.
“I do so hope you’ll enjoy being with me.”
That was her body resting beside the lake. Her skin growing paler as the grasp of dawn tried shaking her awake, to bring her warmth.
How foolish of it, did dawn not know that she was here? Dancing in the arms of—
“Now you see, I pray you enjoy me, as I enjoy you.” He lifted his hands to cup her cheeks. She gladly rested her head into his grasp.
“I pray that enjoyment be something that never escapes our grasp, my dearest, dearest. . .” She couldn’t put a word to it.
The reeds in the distance rattled a familiar tune as he held her into his embrace, bodies fitting perfectly as one.
It was a morning of perfection and beauty, she could not understand the wailing from the distance, only the cries of her throat and the touch of his hands as dawn bled to night.
His gaze never left hers for a moment as stars were born and fell, as willows wept and babies' breath bloomed in the fields. Never did they part, a caged man to her blooming heart.