Dancer in the Night

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Fushigi Yuugi is copyright Watase Yuu, Flower Comics, Studio Perriot, Viz Communications and Pioneer Animation. All rights remain theirs. "Seven Dancing Princesses" is a folktale, originally collected in one of several versions by the Brothers Grimm. For more information, please see the Author's Notes at the end of the fic.
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Once, as long ago as forever, there lived in the countryside of Konan a beautiful young lady named Houki. Houki was a shepherdess, but unlike many other girls who herded sheep for a living, she was educated and spent many of her days reading on various subjects. Many others she spent thinking about what she'd read, and the world outside the village, watching the clouds as they passed by overhead. (Well, once you take sheep to a spot to graze they usually stay there till they've eaten all the grass. If she'd been a goatherd she'd have been in trouble.) As a result of this, many of the other young people of her village called her 'the Skygazer'.

One afternoon, Houki fell asleep as the clouds twisted into their bell-shapes above her, and dreamt. In her dream, a wizened old lady glared at her and demanded, "What on earth are you doing there?! You should be at the Imperial Palace in Eiyo! Go there at once!!"

Houki awoke with a jump. What a strange dream, she thought. It felt - almost real. As she returned home that evening, she couldn't help thinking about it. Her fellow shepherds noticed her frown and asked, "What are you thinking about, Skygazer?"

"I dreamt that an old lady told me to go to the capital," Houki replied.

"You? In the capital? What a ridiculous notion!" laughed the others. Houki smiled politely but didn't join in. And why not me? she thought rebelliously. Why not?

The next afternoon, Houki again fell asleep. And again she dreamt of the imperious old lady and her strange command.

"Why the frown, Skygazer?" asked one of the other shepherdesses that evening. "Did you get your dream command again today?"

"Yes, I did," replied Houki.

"So! Why don't you obey her?" laughed the other girl, clearly not serious.

"You know," Houki replied solemnly, "if I dream of her again, I do believe I will."

The next day, halfway through the afternoon, the sleepy village was shocked awake by the sound of a herd of sheep being driven home, and the villagers ran outside to see Houki bringing her charges back.

"What are you doing, Miss Houki?" they demanded.

"I'm following a command," she replied, and quietly packed up her belongings, leaving on a trader's wagon less than an hour later.
 

Arriving at the capital, Houki decided to go and look at the palace before she did anything else. As chance would have it, she arrived at the side of the palace where the service gate was. A notice was posted there. "Help Wanted - Inquire Within," she read. She blinked, shrugged, decided hers was not to reason why and walked inside.

It turned out that the chief gardener's assistant had quit that morning (after threatening to do so for three years) and a replacement was needed so quickly that Houki barely said "I'm here about a job" before she was hired. Her duties included normal gardening duties, as well as arranging and delivering the princes' flowers.

"The princes' flowers?" Houki asked, unsure she'd heard correctly.

"Yes," replied the chief gardener. "Our good Emperor Suzaku has seven sons, the Princes Mitsukake, Chichiri, Hotohori, Nuriko, Tamahome, Tasuki and Chiriko. It's such a shame..." his voice trailed off. "A tragedy, really..."

"A tragedy, Mr. Tatara?" Houki pressed, but the older man shook his head.

"Don't bother yourself about such things. Someone will tell you soon enough. Just be glad it isn't you. Although it might be. After all, Miss Miaka -" he broke off suddenly, took a deep breath, and continued speaking.

"Our seven princes all enjoy flowers and so we have orders, every morning, to make up an arrangement for each of them and to present them to the princes in their rooms. That will be one of your tasks and you can start tomorrow morning."
 

That night, Houki fell into her narrow pallet in the servants' quarters, thought Dear gods, where will I get a nice dress for tomorrow? and fell asleep.

"Well, at last!" the old lady said, her rough voice a mingle of annoyance and relief. "I thought you'd never listen to me! But you're here at last and that's what matters."

"Excuse me," Houki began, "but if I may ask, why does it matter? And I'm afraid that we've never been introduced. I have no idea why any of this is happening."

"Of course you don't, child!" the lady snapped. "But since you ask, I am Taiitsukun."

"Thank you, Lady Taiitsukun," Houki replied meekly. "And, if I may be so bold, what would you have me do?"

The old woman nodded her head vigorously. "Good! Do you see these two laurel trees behind me?"

Houki craned her neck. Indeed, behind the old woman stood two tree-sized planting pots, each holding a foot-tall plant. With them lay a watering pot made of a silvery metal, a shovel made of a golden material, a white towel that gleamed with the iridescent sheen that only comes from genuine silk, and a small hoe that appeared to be made of some kind of cut glass, casting rainbows all over the place.

"Yes, I see them," Houki nodded.

"When you awaken, go to a secluded part of the gardens. Plant them there, and use these tools, these tools only, to plant them, water them, wipe them down after you've watered them and to hoe away the weeds. Then, when they are each as tall as you are, you may go to them and say, 'Oh my laurel tree, with the golden spade I have dug you, with the crystal hoe I have hoed you, with the silver watering can I have watered you, and with the silken towel I have wiped you.' Then speak your wish, and the laurel will grant it."

Houki stared. "A-any wish?" she stuttered in shock.

"Any wish. Even that which would seem impossible, even with magic, the laurel may grant. But wish well; for only the exact object or event which you wish for will be granted you."

Staring at the sorceress - for so the old woman must be, Houki decided - the girl whispered in shock, "This - this is too much! What is the price you ask? What do you want? Can I afford it?"

This last earned the girl a good thwack with the old woman's staff. "Foolish girl! This isn't a treat or a reward! You and your wishes are my tools!"

Houki blinked. "Tools?"

"Yes, Houki. You will help me set right what has been wrong for far too long."

"What would you have me wish for?" asked Houki, her ears still ringing from Taiitsukun's last blow.

"Don't worry; when I need you to wish, you'll know."
 

Houki sat up suddenly. What a dream! Then she saw something to the side of her little cubicle, and she stared openmouthed in shock.

Piled to one side of her pallet were two small laurel trees, a golden shovel, a crystal hoe, a silver watering can and a silk towel.

Gathering them all up hastily, Houki slipped out the large window set into the wall of her cubicle, and found herself in one of the most out-of-the-way sections of the garden. Quickly, Houki set to work, digging the holes and planting the two trees within them, then watering them and wiping them down, before bundling the whole lot up in the towel, climbing back into her room and shoving it all under her bed. Swiftly she raced through washing, dressing, managing to be just on time to report to Mr. Tatara.

The princes' flowers were a necessarily simple design that morning, partly because Houki wasn't very experienced at flower arranging, partly because she didn't know the princes' preferences and partly because she wanted to get it done quickly and see these princes, who Mr. Tatara, the gentlest man she'd ever met, pitied so fiercely.
 

"The flowers are here," Prince Nuriko reported in a bored tone of voice.

"Good; I want some roses for one of my spells no da," his older brother, Prince Chichiri, replied.

"It's a new flower-girl! And she's as pretty as Nuriko!" piped up Prince Chiriko, the youngest of the seven.

All seven young men instantly turned and stared at Houki, who blushed as she laid the bouquets down on the table in the centre of the Princes' common-room.

"No, she's not," Nuriko announced flatly, after scrutinizing Houki for a full minute. "She's very lovely, but I'm prettier."

"Are you sure no da? Looks like we found your long lost twin!"

"I agree, she's very pretty." Prince Hotohori stretched out long, elegant fingers and gently tilted Houki's face up. "What is your name?"

"I am called Houki, your Highness," Houki managed tightly. She hadn't expected the princes to be so very beautiful, nor to be singled out by the fairest of them all...

"Leave her alone, Hotohori; can't you see you're embarrassing her?" Prince Tamahome came to her rescue, and Prince Hotohori released her face as gently as he'd grasped it. "I apologise," he murmured softly.

"No need, your Highness," Houki managed, and fled, before her heart pounded out her ears.

"Ooh look, Hotohori," Nuriko singsonged as the door closed behind the new little flower girl as she fled in purest confusion, "you drove her away."

"Better she runs now than approaches later," his brother snapped in return.

"Don't tell me you're developing a heart now no da?" Chichiri asked sarcastically.

"I just - don't want to take an innocent underneath. Not again."

"What about all those questers?" Chiriko asked.

"That's different. They know the risks they're taking. Shouka and Miaka didn't even try to take the challenges."

Mitsukake glared at Hotohori, while Tamahome cleared his throat. "We had a choice and we made it. Don't judge, Hotohori."

"I'm not. I'm just saying: I don't want to have to make the choice you did, that's all."
 

Houki found her new job to be absorbing and demanding. Who'd have thought flower arranging would be so hard? she often thought to herself in the days which followed. Each arrangement had to be original and unique and unlike any she'd seen or done before. Princes have exacting taste.

To her lasting embarrassment, she continued to have the same reaction to Prince Hotohori as she had the first day of her duties, hyper aware of his presence and missing him in his absence. She was infatuated, she decided, and resolved to be heartily ashamed of herself - but she couldn't stop looking for him every morning when she delivered his flowers for the day.

It was in the bath, from the House mistress Subaru, that she found out about the Princes' curse.

Houki had gotten into the habit of going to the women servants' communal bathing rooms in the late afternoon, an hour or so before dinner. The giant pools were virtually empty then, so she could stretch and splash and swim to her heart's content. True, there was rarely a towel to be found and most of the bathing oils had been used, but Houki brought her own towel and liked to try different oils - the lavender yesterday, the orange today, perhaps the strawberry-scented one tomorrow? She hadn't encountered any she didn't like, so the fact that she could never predict what she'd come out smelling like added an enjoyable frisson of unpredictability to what was turning out to be an absorbing but extremely repetitive existence.

She wasn't the only one who found it so. Several of the Palace maids came to bathe at the same time for the same reasons, and so did a few of the higher servants, among them Lesser House mistress Subaru.

"It's really mysterious. And amazing, too," Subaru said, leaning back in the hot water of the soaking pool.

Houki, who had been floating on her stomach and blowing bubbles at the mosaic goldfish on the bottom of the pool, flipped over. "What is, Lady Subaru?" she asked.

"Oh, what happens to the Princes," Subaru replied. "Every night, they're locked in their rooms - for their own safety, of course, you can never be too careful - and every morning, when the doors are unlocked, their house slippers are so worn that the slightest touch causes them to fall apart."

"That is odd," Houki replied. "But why is it a curse?"

"Oh, the curse isn't on them," Subaru replied. "It's on the questers who seek to solve the riddle. The Emperor is deathly curious, you see, about what his sons could possibly be doing all night to wear out their shoes so, and who can blame him? I'm curious too, and those boys clam up tighter than a miser's purse on the subject. So he offered a reward to anyone who could solve the riddle. The first few questers just fell asleep as the night passed, but after a while, they started disappearing. He upped the reward, and more questers came, and they all vanished too."

"Oh," Houki commented. "So why investigate, Lady Subaru? Why not leave it be?"

Subaru laughed. "Because the Emperor is a man, of course! You can't tell a man 'it is a wondrous mystery' and leave it at that. He must know! And the reward he offers now is irresistible. She who solves the mystery will be wed to whichever of the Emperor's sons she chooses!"

Houki thought about that. And then quickly dived under the water to hide her blushes as thoughts of the marriage bed - with Prince Hotohori - began to cross her mind.

Subaru, as quick of eye as she was kind of heart, spotted Houki's red cheeks but did not tease her further, only commenting, "I do know that if I were not happily married to my Tokaki, I would certainly be looking very hard at Prince Tamahome! I certainly don't blame that young Miaka - whatever happened to her."

"Miss Miaka? I've heard of a girl of that name. Lady Subaru, who was she? What happened to her?"

Subaru sighed. "Miaka was - a very sweet young lady. A gentle girl. Quite lovely, with warm hazel eyes and nut-brown hair. She was of common birth, but you and I both know that's nothing to be ashamed of. She was extraordinarily gifted spiritually, so much so that she was sent here six years ago, at the age of ten, to be trained to become the Miko of all Konan. She met Prince Tamahome then, just when she was starting to feel homesick, and they became friends. Whether or not it was more than friendship on his side, I do not know; but it was common knowledge that Miaka adored Prince Tamahome. Just after all this business with the shoes started, she disappeared one night, straight out of her bed at the Temple."

Houki blinked. "Really? I was told she was connected to the Princes' curse."

Subaru nodded. "Yes. The Temple diviners were able to see that much. Miaka is being held somewhere and it's connected with the curse. But that's all they were able to see." She sighed. "Perhaps the curse targets the spiritually talented. It was the same with Miss Shouka."

"I don't believe I've heard of her," Houki said, frowning.

"No? When Prince Mitsukake was studying to become a healer, she was one of his fellow students, the only one close to his standard. Oddly enough, though, they weren't rivals, but became good friends. When they both completed their training, Prince Mitsukake returned to the court to minister to its needs, and she chose to be a healer in Eiyo. She was very highly prized by the people of our city, and when she heard about the spell, she visited her old friend, just to see that he was well, and she vanished on her way home."

"That isn't so unusual, to vanish on a journey."

"But when the journey is walking twenty feet down a busy street in full daylight?"

Houki blinked. "Now that's strange."

Subaru nodded. "The Temple diviners looked for her, too, and she's with Lady Miaka, they said. That's why the people of Eiyo keep supporting the questers and telling them about the curse - they want Miss Shouka back."

Houki shook her head. "Lady Subaru, if those two girls, who never even tried to pry into the curse, just vanished, there had to be a reason."

Subaru nodded. "I agree, Houki - but your guess is as good as mine."

Houki returned to her room that evening, still pondering the question. Why had those two maidens just disappeared? Automatically, she slipped out the window, to tend to the laurel trees.

After hoeing away the last weed, she stood, wiped her brow, and suddenly realized - the laurels had grown and were now as tall as she was.

For a second, she stood, her heart beating fiercely, as realization struck her.

Now was the time of the wishes. And with her wishes, she could do whatever she wished.

But what to wish for?

The bell that marked the hour rang out over the city.

(Dong.) (Dong.) (Dong.) (Dong.) (Dong.) (Dong.) (Dong.) (Dong.) (Dong.) (Dong.)

A wild idea seized her. Ignoring the internal voice that screamed don't - you'll never pull it off, she turned to one of the trees.

"Oh my laurel, with the golden spade I have dug you, with the crystal hoe I have hoed you, with the silver watering can I have watered you and with the silken towel I have wiped you. Teach me how to be invisible."

A beautiful white flower bloomed on the tree. Houki picked it and tucked it into her buttonhole - and suddenly, it was as if she wasn't there! Not even she could see her hands or feet.

Sprinting through the Palace (and many people would later that evening swear in the servants' hall that a ghost was in the Palace, for they had felt something brush by at great speed, when anyone could see there was nothing at all there), Houki arrived at the Princes chambers just as the chief guardsman was about to lock the Princes' doors.

"Remember to just knock if you need anything," he was saying as Houki slipped past. "We're only just outside."

"Don't worry, Kouji," Prince Tasuki reassured him. "We won't need anything."

The guardsman looked dubious, but shut the door.

Houki sighed with relief.

"What was that?" Prince Chiriko said, lifting up his head.

"What was what, Chiriko?" asked Mitsukake.

"I thought I heard someone sigh."

"It was probably just the wind," Nuriko said. "Now hurry up and get ready, the pair of you! We're almost late!"

Houki took her hand away from her heart. Thank goodness the spell was working! But it was a timely warning, and she'd remember: she was invisible, not inaudible.

The seven princes all met in the middle of their common room. Dressed in their finest, each alone would have been enough to set any poor maiden's heart a-racing; but together they were a sight to dazzle the eye and ensnare hearts aplenty.

But Houki thought that the finest of them all had to be Prince Hotohori.

A panel set in the floor of the room opened, revealing a flight of stairs.

Tamahome, Tasuki and Mitsukake all immediately started down, as though they could not wait to reach their destination. Chiriko raced after them, while Chichiri and Nuriko followed, at a more decorous pace.

Hotohori hesitated, glancing at the door. Houki, standing directly behind him, was on fire with impatience. Hurry, join them! she thought. I can't follow you till you start down the stairs!

He did, eventually, and Houki followed closely upon his heels. At the bottom of the stairs, the other six waited, and as a group they moved down along a twisty, moonlit path, through a forest whose branches appeared to be copper, with leaves studded with sapphires. Houki, amazed, lagged a little behind and broke off a twig carefully. It still made a soft sound, though.

"What was that?" Chiriko asked.

"You're on edge tonight, no da," Chichiri replied. "It was probably just a bird landing in its nest."

Eventually the copper trees gave way to silver ones, with their leaves dripping with pigeon's-blood rubies. Mindful of her earlier mistake, though, Houki didn't take one of these, nor of the next forest, of golden leaves and emeralds blazing from their branches.

The wood grew up to the edge of a wide river. On the opposite side stood a long, low palace, blazing with light, from which came the strains of soft music, and a woman's voice, raised in song.

Maiagaru, Suzaku...
Miracle la...

Waiting on the edge, seven small boats, each big enough for two (three at a tight squeeze) waited, with a young woman in each, armed with the oars. The princes each walked to a boat and began to be rowed across. Houki sneaked on to Hotohori's behind him, and while it launched off with the others, soon it lagged behind.

"Why are we behind tonight?" asked the prince.

"I don't know, your Highness," the rower replied. "The boat feels much heavier tonight."

Houki held her breath until they safely reached the other side.

Once there, the seven princes swept in to a hall full of young ladies. All welcomed them with cries of joy and the music segued into a sprightly dancing tune. The princes and the ladies all began to dance.

Houki moved around the dance floor, watching. Hotohori, Chiriko, Nuriko and Chichiri all took the hands of whichever maid was nearest them at the beginning of each dance; they all enjoyed their partners, but the dancing itself was clearly what they loved most.

Tasuki spent each and every dance with one particular young lady, fair with clear green eyes. Princes Tamahome and Mitsukake too devoted themselves to one particular maid each. The girl to whom Tamahome attended was a laughing sprite with warm brown hair tied with red ribbons and dancing hazel eyes; it wasn't too hard to recognise the Miko Miaka. The young woman who danced with Mitsukake, though, was a clear-eyed maiden with the face of one who has seen much sadness, and the gentle smile of one who still believes in joy. She must be the healer, Miss Shouka, Houki decided.

As she watched, she noticed that they all, from Lady Miaka to the rower-girls, had a strange, slightly-glazed look about them, as if they were all half-asleep.

Occasionally, Miss Shouka or Lady Miaka would shake their heads and the glaze would start to fade, but their partner would turn and distract their attention, and the glaze would return.

Looking at the faces of the princes, Tasuki looked miserable. His face was set and he looked as if he would dearly love to pound something, but couldn't. Tamahome looked the same, while Mitsukake's face was set; his gaze that of one who endured because he must. Hotohori looked troubled, while the other three danced as though they had not a care in the world. And slowly, their slippers were worn away.

Dawn came slowly, though undoubtedly too swiftly for the princes, and they returned to the palace the same way they had come. On the way back, Houki broke off a branch in the golden wood, and another in the silver forest; but none of the princes overheard her this time.

Slipping out of the princes' window, Houki climbed down the wall of the palace and slipped away to her own bed. She had to get some sleep, and decide what to do.

Confrontation was out. So too was trying to break the spell on her own. The seven princes knew how to break it, that much was clear, because they had cast it - at least on Lady Miaka and Miss Shouka, at least for that night. Somehow she had to get the princes themselves to break it.

But how?
 

The next morning, after Houki had delivered their flowers, Hotohori noticed something.

"Look at this," he told his brothers.

"What are we looking at?" asked Mitsukake.

"It's a bunch of roses, baby's breath, and chrysanthemums," Nuriko reported unnecessarily. "I'd say the girl likes you."

"If that's all there is, what's that branch doing there?" demanded Hotohori, pointing.

The seven princes stared at the copper branch. Sapphires winked at them from the depths of the roses.

Finally, Chichiri shrugged. "She probably saw it on the floor of our rooms yesterday, no da. She thought it was pretty, picked it up and used it today." He didn't sound convinced.

"Maybe," Hotohori finally said. Maybe not, his tone said.
 

The next two nights, Houki accompanied the princes again on their nightly excursion. What she saw only reinforced her beliefs.

Why, she decided. That's the key to this whole thing. I know what happens, and I know how. But I won't know what to do until I work out why.
 

The seven princes sat around their common room table, staring at the bouquet that lay in the centre. It was a very lovely arrangement of golden lilies, carnations, chrysanthemums, dandelions and sunflowers, the perfect setting for the golden branch that sat in the centre, its leaves dripping emeralds.

The day before, it had been the silver twig set with rubies that Hotohori had found in his all-white bouquet, and the red arrangement the day before that had held the copper branch.

Tamahome broke the silence. "She knows."

"This may all be coincidence," Mitsukake offered.

"'Once is chance, twice is coincidence, thrice is conspiracy'," Nuriko quoted. "She knows, all right. And she's challenging us."

"This isn't a challenge," Hotohori answered. "This is a notification. 'You know, I know, now you know I know'."

"And what are we gonna do about it?" demanded Tasuki.

"I imagine that's what she wants to know no da," commented Chichiri. "If she's found out, then she has to know our father would reward her handsomely for the information. Why hasn't she told him?"

"Maybe she wants to know what we'll pay for her silence," Chiriko said thoughtfully.

"She's not that kind of girl," Hotohori snapped.

"Do you like her, Hotohori?" teased Nuriko. "Remember, the minute we marry, we lose our rank as Princes of the Blood and take on the status of our wives. Do you have a secret longing to be a gardener? Bringing us our flowers every morning, grubbing in the dirt all day -"

"Nuriko." Mitsukake said sharply, and the younger prince subsided reluctantly.

"Nuriko does have a point though," Tamahome said quietly. "We set this up to maintain ourselves, in the face of Father's ruling. We've stayed together on this, despite temptation -" his face set as everyone at the table remembered his temptation "- until now. If we're prepared to keep hanging together, we have an option."

"An option?" Nuriko asked. "Like what?"

"Everyone's always assumed that bringing the spell to the light of day will end it - she probably thinks the same thing. She probably also thinks that because she knows what's going on, she'll have an advantage. So let's encourage her to become a quester."

Nuriko grinned. "And nobody will be surprised if another quester vanishes! Tamahome, you're brilliant!"

"It's a good idea, no da," Chichiri agreed. "There's always room for another dancer at the palace, no da."

"But if we take her underneath," Hotohori interjected, "she is mine. As Shouka is Mitsukake's and Miaka is Tamahome's, Houki's mine."

His brothers stared at him. Finally Chichiri nodded. "It is the closest any of us may come to marriage, no da..." He sighed. "I see no problem."

"Then it's settled," Hotohori said firmly. "Chichiri, please prepare the spell - I'll invite her myself."
 

In her room, Houki sat on her bed and gave herself furiously to thought. Attending the princes' council invisibly, courtesy of her magic laurels, had proven to be incredibly enlightening.

She had known the princes all worked hard on governing different parts of their father's kingdom, but she hadn't thought they were so starved for play they would ensorcell themselves. Nor that their father would so completely abandon them, should they wed outside their station.

But now that she knew, what should she do? Could she, in conscience, force the destruction of the spell? Should she run as fast as she could, as far as she could? Her laurels could enable her to do either.

The question was no longer what she could do, but what she should do.

Finally she made her decision. Climbing out the window, she faced her laurels.

"Oh my laurel, with the golden spade I have dug you, with the crystal hoe I have hoed you, with the silver watering can I have watered you and with the silken towel I have wiped you. Dress me as a princess."

The laurel bloomed slowly - instead of unfurling so fast it appeared to spring into existence, the flower this time crept into life, reluctant to bestow its blessing, and when it did bloom, instead of the usual white blossom, it was deep crimson, the colour of heart's blood, life's last grasp. Houki nodded, and before she plucked the flower, hugged the tree. "I know," she whispered, "But I must do this."

Picking the flower, she didn't put it on, but first left the servants quarters, walked to the main gates and put it on there. Taking a deep breath, she walked in and asked to be presented to Emperor Suzaku, as a quester.
 

Kouji walked into the princes' common room. The seven were all busily reading, writing and working away. Kouji smirked. There were few enough satisfactions in this job, and the shock on each of their faces as he announced each new quester was enjoyable. It also went some way to easing the small prick of jealousy he felt.

He and Prince Tasuki had been childhood friends - still were, probably, to Tasuki's mind - but Tasuki wouldn't share the secret of the shoes, or other secrets, and Kouji felt it. Tasuki would probably say it had no bearing on Kouji, and he'd probably be right. It was the fact that there was a secret, and that Tasuki didn't feel comfortable sharing it with Kouji, that rankled.

Kouji cleared his throat. "Knock, knock," he began. "Who's there? Why, it's your friendly chief guardsman, Kouji, with a message for you. Why Kouji! Come in, and deliver your message. Thank you, kind sir, I don't mind if I do."

Prince Chiriko was smiling, which was one of the reasons why Kouji kept up his banter. Tasuki threw down the military report he was reading and charged over to the door.

"Kouji! What is it that's so urgent?"

Kouji grinned. "Oh, a new quester presented herself today."

All seven froze.

"She's very pretty," Kouji continued, "and she's very well mannered. Emperor Suzaku likes her. I think he'll be very put out if she vanishes."

"Oh." Prince Tasuki commented flatly.

"Yes," Kouji continued, "the Emperor's very impressed with Miss Houki."

Prince Hotohori dropped his pen. Mitsukake stopped in mid-decoction. Nuriko looked up from his reports. Chiriko stared. Tamahome let the bulky folder he was holding fall out of his hands, and Chichiri popped his head around the corner from his laboratory. "Did you say Houki, no da?"

"Yes. She says that she used to be a gardener, would you believe it?"

"I might," said Chiriko softly.

Tasuki pulled Kouji out of the room. In the silence which followed, all thought upon their own reflections. Nuriko broke the silence. "Well, now we know what she's planning."

"Do we?"
 

Houki sat, outwardly calm, waiting for the princes to be ready to go down to their dancing. Hotohori, being the first ready, found himself talking with her while they waited.

Hotohori found himself amazed as they spoke. He had been attracted to her looks; it was rather startling to find she had a bright mind behind the lovely face.

It was more disturbing to realize it was a mind he liked.
 

The journey down to the dancing palace had passed peacefully, with Houki joining in the conversation. She managed to hold her own and make several points, even silencing Nuriko once.

She rode across the river in Chichiri's craft and danced slowly but gracefully, taking her turn with each of the princes, with Hotohori first and last. During their second dance, Houki murmured, "I have heard that you will be disinherited if you marry a lady who is not a princess."

Hotohori blinked in shock. "That's not precisely true - just that we will be expected to join our wives in their professions, and a prince isn't really trained for that..."

"Then it is no doubt a relief," Houki said quietly, "that you will never be forced to wed a gardener."

The music ended and Houki was swept up by Chichiri before Hotohori could respond.
 

An hour before dawn, the music died upon the air. As Houki blinked, Prince Chichiri clapped his hands, as a shimmer appeared, solidifying into a richly-laid supper table, laid with such delicacies as candied violets and sugared roses - for such are the tastes of princes.

Eight places were laid at the magnificent repast, one for each of the princes and one for Houki. She took her place, and if she waited till one of the princes began a course before she lifted her fork, and if she ate slower and with sidelong glances at her seatmates, it was not commented upon. Conversation remained light until the dessert course, with its wine.

Houki looked at the cordial that swirled within her goblet; how she knew it was not wine, she didn't know, for it held the same colour and scent as the sweet dessert wine the seven princes had been served. Perhaps it was the way it clung to the sides of the goblet; perhaps the excessive care with which her glass had been poured; perhaps the way the seven princes stared at her out of the corner of their eyes.

She picked up the goblet, cradling it gently in her cupped hands.

She could still refuse. All enchantments must be consented to; she couldn't be bespelled if she didn't say 'yes'. The sleeping princess hadn't had to take the spindle. She didn't have to drink the cup.

Houki lifted her face, looking at the seven princes, no longer trying to hide her knowledge or decision. Smiling, a terrible smile of acceptance, she closed her eyes and lifted the cup to her lips, preparing to drink.

The cup was ripped from her hands, striking the marble-paved floor, spilling the cordial beyond saving. Houki stared incredulously at Hotohori as he stood, shaking and whitefaced, still leaning over the table in the posture of striking her goblet from her lips.

"I would rather be a gardener," he whispered, feeling giving the sound the intensity of a shout. He straightened, looking about the palace of drugged dancers as if he'd never seen it before, a grimace of disgusted horror twisting his lips. "I would rather be a gardener!" he declared again, in a voice that rang clearer than the stars.

The building shivered. The young women all began to stir, murmuring, a sea of sleepers entering the waking world.

A piece of wall fell into the room.

"Hurry!" shouted Mitsukake. "The palace is collapsing with the spell! We must leave! Now!"

His all-too-audible warning did not go unheeded. All the newly-awakened women blundered their way out in a terrified mob. A flood of humanity began to try to cross the enchanted river that separated the palace from the world. The rower-girls found their oars ripped from their hands, and many who were not content to await the tiny barks were fording or swimming the river themselves.

In all the chaos, Houki found herself at the foot of the path that eventually led to the princes' quarters. But, rather than fleeing along it, she hesitated, watching the destruction she had indirectly caused.

"This wasn't what I thought would happen," she whispered regretfully.

"Don't regret it," she heard a voice behind her say. Turning, she found Hotohori standing behind her. Looking over her shoulder, he continued. "This situation was a canker, eating our souls. Something that had been so wrong for far too long could only be ended in destruction."

Houki stared, remembering a dream six long months before. She did not resist as Hotohori took her hand and led her back to the Palace in Eiyo.
 

When the Palace was inundated with returned questers, each claiming the promised reward of a Prince's hand in marriage, the royal Court was in an uproar.

Finally, the Emperor called upon his sons to find the truth, and each repudiated all the claims of the questers, maintaining that Houki was responsible for the ending of the spell. The Emperor (who wasn't dumb, recognising several claimants as questers who had arrived before he offered the final reward) acclaimed her as the successful quester and invited all the rest to leave. Immediately. There was a lot of grumbling as they reluctantly complied, and if the Emperor had not asked the Royal Guard to escort them out, it was highly likely they would have been much harder to persuade. (One pretty redheaded girl took the opportunity to try to persuade Kouji to meet her for a drink later. Whether or not she was successful - well, that's another story.)

Houki's prophesy came true - Hotohori was not forced to marry a gardener; Emperor Suzaku granted her a duchesshood as her reward, and named Hotohori as his heir.

(It turned out that his determination that his sons should share the status of their wives was a way to ensure that his sons truly cared for their brides - for only a man who was truly in love would give up a crown for a girl. He was planning all along to raise them to nobility - after the wedding.)

Some years later, Hotohori asked Houki how she had managed to obtain the jewelled branches. She told him about her laurels, and showed them to him. He, having given up sorcery, was wary of her having access to such a powerful source of magic. So he cut the two laurel trees off at the root and burnt them to ashes, that the power should not be transferred to any other object.

And that is why, even today, the coat of arms of the Empress of Konan is a pair of entwined laurel trees; and the maidens of Konan sing

Oh, we can't go down the woods anymore -
The laurel trees are cut -

as they dance under the light of the full moon.

*******

Author's Notes:

Please forgive this format: but it won't fit as points!

The folktale "The Seven Dancing Princesses" (more commonly known as "Twelve Dancing Princesses", occasionally as "Three Dancing Princesses") is a very odd folktale; as mutable and with as many different versions as "Cinderella" or "Sleeping Beauty" but not nearly so well known.

The most common version of the story: A wandering soldier hears about these princesses whose slippers are worn to tatters each night. Their father wants to know why; anyone who presents himself has three days to solve the mystery, and if he doesn't he's executed. The soldier decides to try his luck, refuses the drugged wine he's offered but pretends to sleep, then sneaks after the princesses and sees them dancing till dawn. After three days he reveals what he saw, which breaks the princess' compulsion, and when he's offered a choice of a princess in marriage, he chooses the eldest, because, he says, he is no longer young himself.

This version is based on the first version I ever saw of this story, where the hero was a young shepherd boy, he uses two enchanted laurels to help himself, there was a motive given for the spell (there never has been in any of the other seven versions I've read, I noticed), and one of the princesses is the one who breaks the spell. It's much more elaborate and involved than the more common versions.

This tale has always appealed to me. It's one of the few where the hero and heroine interact before the wedding (in the soldier version, the soldier and the eldest princess meet and have some spectacular Mills-and-Boon style arguments during the three days; in my favourite one, the shepherd-turned-gardener and the youngest princess get to know each other through his job as the
princess' flower-boy), the curse is harmless (the princesses never show any signs of harm or wear; it was what made the mystery of the shoes so engrossing), and the hero actually has a brain (the soldier used his skills to trail the princesses without getting caught; the shepherd boy thought about what to do and chose to become part of the spell).

I chose to write the longer, more elaborate version - even though it was harder - because there are things in it that I love and appreciate and that I truly feel make the story great.

First, there was the seven princesses. Unlike so many storybook heroines, these girls aren't sweet and innocent. (Well, maybe they're sweet - if they like you.) They know what they want and they know what they've got to do to achieve it.Nice, no; cool, yes! They stick together and they care about each other. Also, it was a princess who chose to end the spell. She saw the darkness they were doing and chose to end it. A nice analogy that I really liked; that it's never too late to turn around if you realize you're making a mistake.

I also liked the shepherd boy hero. He followed his heart, and he always listened to others. His final decision also made me think; sometimes a minor evil is actually preventing a major one, and to have the wisdom to see that impressed me no end.

(And if the ridiculous little cantrip that Our Hero had to say to get the laurel to work didn't put you in mind of a mahou shoujo - I've obviously got to lay off the Sailor Moon.)

But I think that it is the humanity of the characters that makes me love this story so. The princesses were capable both of good and evil, while the Skygazer was not what I'd call the most considerate adolescent around, and the Emperor was both loving and tyrannical. Rather than the archetypes we always see, the dichotomy of their actions makes them very human.

And, as always, I'd love to hear your views.