Love. Goddesses. War. Kings. Guardians. The moon kingdom of La Lune has experienced peace and prosperity for many generations, but an ancient evil threatens to rise up and dismantle it all.
*these characters belong to Choices game from Pixelberry, not me!*
“Mother, you should reserve your strength,” the young prince sighed, watching as the Lunar doctor consulted his medicine bag. Queen Seraphine clicked her tongue, though she was clearly in pain. If Rory tried hard enough, he could imagine her kind, patient face healthy again, deep brown skin not worn with time. She reached out a weathered hand to cup his face, and Rory leaned in to her touch. “My time is coming, Rory,” she put on a brave smile. Rory pulled away, refusing to hear the same warning he’d heard since he was fourteen and thought she might live for another millennia. The Lunar doctor swooped in and checked her vitals, use to having to maneuver around the prince. “Just because the coronation is today doesn’t mean La Lune won’t continue to seek guidance from the queen mother,” Rory spoke to his stormy reflection in the full-length mirror in the room. It’s gold, white, and silver encrusted corners matched not only the glamour of the space, but the architecture of the palace. Lunars were used to such splendor, but visitors from other planets never ceased to be awestruck by the moon kingdom or its beautiful people.
“I’m going out for some air. Do not hesitate to call for me if there’s an emergency,” Rory addressed the last part to the doctor and kissed the queen on the cheek before exiting. Another round of coughing caused Rory to take a shallow breath of his own, but he continued his slow walk down the hall and winding staircase. How many hours he’d spent in his mother’s chambers throughout the moon years he didn’t know. Rory had fond memories growing up beside the Lunar queen. She was beloved by everyone, yet her influence and power were secondary to her steadfast manner. Nothing could shake her, not even death knocking on her door. Rory paused, shutting his eyes. He wished his mother’s sickness wouldn’t mar the remaining time her had with her. It was why he was to become La Lune’s king a moon year early. There hadn’t been a new ruler since Queen Seraphine had assumed the throne, and it was easy to pretend his mother would live forever.
“Lunars.” Rory was brought back to the present, a smile lifting the corner of his lips as he recognized the twin voices. The guardians. Rory quickened his steps, stopping just shy of the last stair. He was careful to stay out of view as he watched the two siblings laugh. He couldn’t find it in himself to envy their carefree nature, especially the girl. Like her brother, Meghan’s Earthen nature reflected in the shape of her ears; more rounded than the Lunar born. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she bumped shoulders with Malcolm who rolled his eyes. Suddenly they fell on the prince, and Malcolm dropped into a deep bow. Meghan noticed their guest and quickly followed suit.
“Your Royal Highness.”
“Prince Rory.”
“Why the formalities? I’m still Rory,” he nodded at Malcolm, but his bright smile only grew when his eyes met Meghan’s. When it was clear his sister had nothing intelligent to say in response, Malcolm cleared his throat, giving her a swift kick the prince didn’t see. “I know you have a lot going on, but even you can’t forget you’ll be La Lune’s king soon.” Rory’s smile stiffened, and Meghan returned her brother’s kick. “How is Queen Seraphine?” she asked, no stranger to the Lunar queen’s sufferings. Rory and Meghan had confided much to one other, but the one thing that stayed unspoken between them. She placed a comforting hand on Rory’s shoulder, and he startled at the touch before remembering where he was. “She rests now. I’ll see you both at the coronation?” Malcolm nodded, but Meghan couldn’t ignore his knitted brows or rigid stance. She pulled her hand back, embarrassed, and watched the prince walk away, lost in thought.
Meghan followed him with her eyes until he was out of sight. “Wait ‘til Mom hears you’ve managed to ensnare the future king of La Lune with your Earthen wiles,” Malcolm teased, and she swatted at her twin, missing him by mere inches. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she stammered, cheeks aflame. Malcolm pulled out his double knives, reflecting light off the blades. “We became guardians. Who’s to say you couldn’t become Princess too?” Meghan unsheathed her weapon, the Sword of Lune and went on the offense, scanning the palace entrance for listening ears. “Stop, what if someone hears you!” she hissed, launching attack after attach while Malcolm deflected each of her strikes. “Wouldn’t worry about that, Meg. We take off our armor, and we’re as good as invisible,” Malcolm pulled away. He threw his knives to either side of him, signaling the end of their match. His joking tone was gone, and Meghan struggled with what to say next. “Save it,” Malcolm spoke instead. “Just…it must be nice to be looked at like you’re worthy of something. Someone.”
At the Cantine, a Lunar bar fashioned after the more popular ones on earth, Skye relished in the way the sweet drink burned on its way down. Meghan had bribed her with Lunar drinks straight from the royal stash before they’d arrived, but it hadn’t taken long for Meghan to unload her burdens onto her fellow guardian and best friend. “When will you learn that you can’t take on the galaxy’s problems?” Skye cocked an eyebrow when Meghan had finally exhausted herself. Meghan shrugged her shoulders, swirling her own drink around. “The last time I checked, that was the whole point of being a guardian,” she sniffed. Skye took her drink and put it the side, ignoring Meghan’s protest. “Rory’s mother is the Lunar queen for crying out loud! Neither of us have had the best luck of the draw when it comes to parents, but if my mom was Seraphine, I’d be moody too.” Meghan snatched her drink and tossed it back, biting back a cough as it went down the wrong pipe and dripped from her nose. “You’re moody all the time,” Meghan choked out between coughs as Skye passed her a disposable cloth piece. Skye’s smirk settled into a more genuine smile. “As far as Lunars are concerned, anyone who’s willing to put their life on the line for La Lune has every right to be on this goddess forsaken moon.” Before Meghan could respond, her and Skye’s names were frantically called across the Cantine. Patrons turned to see what the commotion was about, but quickly parted to make room for the two guardians that ran down to meet Skye and Meghan. Skye threw the cloak of her dark blue hood over her face, taking another swig of her drink.
Clint found them first, with Natalie on his heels. “What are you guys doing here?” Skye groaned and lifted her hood back just enough to reveal a scowl, a strand of red hair escaping as well. “Hiding from you guys, but obviously we need to do better.” Clint laughed, Skye’s bitter tone escaping him. “Meghan, the coronation!” Natalie exclaimed, and Meghan shot up, knocking over her empty glass. She pointed an accusatory finger at Skye. “You were supposed to keep track of the time!” Skye threw up her hands in amused protest. “I was promised drinks.” Rather than arguing, Meghan grabbed Skye by the hand and pulled her along after Natalie and Clint.
** ** **
If it was a struggle to stand before her son and the people of La Lune, the queen never made it known. She beamed at the newly crowned king of the moon kingdom, joining the resounding applause of the Lunars. The crescent shaped mark on his cheek glowed brightly, announcing to all his new title. Rory’s eyes searched the throne room for Meghan, wary of the attention placed on him. “Lune, grant us peace,” he spoke, waiting for the crowd to repeat his words.
“Lune, grant us peace,” the guardians repeated with the other Lunars, each posted at a different exit in the throne room. Meghan caught Skye crossing her eyes, and bit back a snort of her own. “Lune, grant us courage,” she repeated next, her own gaze finding the short blonde Lunar who looked back at her brother forlornly before turning to the front again. Malcolm repeated the king’s words to the polished floor, expression unreadable. Suddenly their earlier conversation and squabble came to mind, and her heart ached for her brother. The blonde’s parents were noble Lunars, and no matter how much she made him over, Amber couldn’t make Malcolm something he wasn’t. “Lune, grant us strength,” Meghan whispered to herself catching her twin’s glance as she made her way to the front, ignoring the stares and whispers. Kneeling down in front of Rory, she pulled out her sword and lifted it high above her head, reciting the words she’d memorized the day she became a guardian.
“With the moon goddess as my witness, I pledge my service to La Lune, King Rory’s birthright. With this sword, I swear that no harm will come to His Majesty, this kingdom, or its people. All of this be true, or may Belluma have my soul.”
“Rise, Moon Guardian.”
Meghan stumbled back up, making room for the next guardian, afraid she’d lose her nerve if she dared to look at the king. Malcolm was next, followed Skye, Natalie, Clint, and finally Erin, each guardian replacing ‘sword’ with their weapon. The next thing Meghan knew, the old queen was placing the crown on Rory’s head, and the throne room thundered with deafening applause. She watched as nobles rushed to give their well wishes to the new king, and disappeared back into the crowd, keeping an eye on her surroundings.
“And thus, we usher in a new era,” Erin grinned later as she and Meghan watched the Lunars pair up and dance, faces flushed with joy and excitement. “Make sure you try the crescent rounds. They only make them for coronation ceremonies, which is a waste if you ask me.” Meghan took in Erin’s pointed ears and striking brown eyes, the same beauty that the rest of the Lunar guardians and Lunars in general had and tried to push her insecurities down. “Hey, you alright?” Erin finally asked, and Meghan schooled her features into a happier expression. “Never been better.” Erin nodded, unconvinced. “Well, maybe the new king will have better luck than me,” Erin chuckled, watching as Meghan frantically scanned the room. The moment Rory appeared, Erin made herself scarce, and Meghan cursed herself for her negligence. His crown and white and gold coronation outfit had been replaced with something more understated, and he held out a hand to her. Wordlessly Meghan took it, expecting a dance, but Rory only nodded to the post where Skye stood, watching the celebrating Lunars.
“I… Your Majesty, maybe it’s best we—”
“Please, Meghan?” Rory took both her hands in his, silently pleading. Meghan turned to Skye again, quickly making up her mind. Arm tucked into his own, Rory led her to the exit. Skye eyed the pair, offering Meghan a knowing smirk. Skye bowed, and stepped aside to let the two leave.
“I wanted to apologize for earlier.” Rory began, but Meghan stopped him before he could go any further. “You can apologize by making good on your offer to teach me how to dance. I’ll also except crescent rounds as payment,” Meghan giggled, and without thinking, Rory lifted a hand to her face. Meghan’s breath caught in her chest, and suddenly the galaxy seemed smaller. “A dance it is,” Rory whispered, and led Meghan into the first step. Being in Rory’s arms, she danced like a natural, though it felt more like floating around. Just like the other young Lunars, Meghan used to fantasize about being this close to Rory. But while they saw Queen Seraphine’s successor, she saw someone who cared for his mother because he loved her, and not because it was duty. Someone who prayed to the moon goddess for his people because he loved them, not because he was the prince and now king. A friend and confidant who was known to be silly at times. Most importantly, Rory was someone who viewed her and Malcolm and all the other lost Earthens as Lunar citizens despite how tightly those with Lunar blood held and hid their prejudices.
They were no longer dancing but swaying to the song in their hearts. Rory brushed a curl from Meghan’s face. “Meghan, is there a rule against kissing a guardian?” Both leaned forward until their lips almost touched. “No,” Meghan exhaled, tentative at first, then bold once their lips connected. I’m kissing the king, Meghan yelled internally, then amended the thought. No, I’m kissing Rory.
With Lune as their witness, Rory gave Meghan one last parting kiss before he left her alone with her thoughts. Meghan turned her elated face up to the sky, the earth in view. Her excitement bubbled up in her chest until she could hardly contain her laughter. “You’ve done it, Little Meghan,” she sighed, thinking fondly of her past self.
Later that night, Rory smiled to himself as he knelled by his mother’s bedside, waiting a few moments after she fell asleep before he retired to his own chambers. “I think I’m in love with her,” Rory prayed to the moon goddess, imagining Meghan in her guardian attire, brown eyes gazing back at him. How perfect she’d felt in his arms, like two puzzle pieces finding their way back together. “Whenever I’m with her, nothing seems so impossible.” His gaze landed on his mother’s frail figure, and he quickly sobered. “…Almost nothing.”
The next day, Meghan awoke to the news transmission, turning on her side in the cot she slept in. Erin sat in front of her, blocking the image, but Meghan listened in, eyes heavy with sleep. “…Today La Lune welcomes the arrival of her Royal Highness, Princess Danielle of Venus, King Rory’s betrothed and the future queen of La Lune.” A loud thump caused Erin to whirl around, finding a confused Meghan tangled up in the sheets on the floor. “Did…did she say, betrothed?” Meghan asked shakily as Erin helped her up to her feet. “Yes…?” Erin started, but Meghan scurried to the transmission and watched as the Venus princess was swarmed by Lunar admirers and paparazzi. Her eyes smarted with tears, as she watched the princess give those around her warm, friendly smiles. “Why didn’t tell he me?” Meghan asked herself, last night feeling like moon years ago. “What are you talking about, Meg?” Erin asked, eyeing the spot where she’d bumped her head on the tumble to the floor. Meghan rooted around their shared space, pulling on her Lunar attire and rummaging around for her boots. Maybe I should start praying to Terra instead, she thought bitterly, and was gone before Erin could pry out what was wrong with her.