DISCLAIMER-Rumiko Takahashi,creator of Inuyasha, owns
Ranma & Co. Not me. Well, she owns most of my
money(hopefully) since I spend 90% on her comics. 

Excerpt: - 

He smiled icily when he saw her.

�Akane Tendo, my fianc�e.� He studied her. �They say
if you had been a boy that I would have been spared
this hell.�

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

Chapter 1

When Ranma and Akane were seven years old, Akane was
sent to visit her betrothed in Jiya. Queen Kurumi
consulted with her wise women and they told her it was
necessary.

�Don�t be afraid, my darling,� said the dark-haired
Queen as she knelt and kissed her daughter goodbye.
�Remember that you are a lioness of the desert.
Nothing will harm you.�

�She is still just a little cub!� roared Akane�s
guardian, Qiyar Al- Nasrullah, the famed warlord of
the steppes. He was Akane�s uncle, a giant and dusty
warrior, who had always seemed to loom over little
Akane.

�Don�t worry, little cub! I�m here,� he said, and
swung her into the air, his booming laugh mingling
with her childish shrieks of delight.

Al-Nasrullah had come back from the war on the lower
hills only to escort the little princess. Although Jin
and Jiya were wary allies, and with Cantos and the
smaller kingdoms had continued to war with the Arun
over the seven years, there seemed no sign that their
attack would lessen. The armies still fought to keep
the hordes back.

Akane reached Jiya in the presence of her uncle and a
regiment of soldiers. Kurumi had heard tales of Genma.

Akane found Jiya to be much like Jin in appearance,
the buildings made of white stucco and mortar, or
gritty white limestone. Minarets rose here and there,
priests standing at the highest points, sending out
calls to the faithful to attend afternoon prayer.

Vendors and merchants hawked their wares on the dusty,
crowded streets, and camels and oxen trudged along
drawing carts or were simply being led to market to be
sold. 

Akane could smell spices, strange perfumes, oils, and
underneath it all the stink of garbage. 

In one corner, she could see slaves on a platform,
being auctioned. The white sun beat down on the city
relentlessly.

Finally, they reached the palace.

The whole court had turned up to meet her. Here was
one of their princesses, returned from a foreign land.
They were surprised at her beauty, her large, dark
eyes and soft, silky black hair. Her sisters� hair was
brown. Akane had roses in her cheeks and she was a
sturdy child dressed in the flowing desert caftan of
Jin.

Genma and Ranma were away in training, which everyone
considered a blessing. Nodoka gathered her child into
her arms and held her close.

�Oh, little Akane!� Nodoka�s tears had dried up a long
time ago, but she felt a twinge in her heart when
Akane looked up at her with her serious brown eyes.
"You've grown so tall!"

Akane�s sisters stared at her silently. Kasumi and
Nabiki had grown into pretty young princesses, but
their glances constantly assessed the need for flight,
and they hid behind their mother and her handmaidens.

A few days later, the King and his foster son returned
and Akane met her fianc�e for the first time. They
considered each other. 

Akane saw a young boy, dressed in loose white linen
trousers and a blue tunic, his hair tied back in a
braid behind him, his eyes a shocking blue in his sun
burnt face. Those blue eyes examined her from head to
foot.

Genma turned a cold glance on her.

�I won�t have her presence corrupting him,� he said.
�She will see him at dinners and that�s all the
contact necessary.� None could gainsay him.

Akane watched Ranma when she saw him in the halls or
hallways. She knew that he was the real son of her
foster parents and that he was a prisoner of war, as
she was. 

But whereas Soun and Kurumi lavished her with love,
she could see that it was not the same for Ranma.

Genma believed strongly that only harshness and
intense training would create Ranma into the
invincible warlord Genma wanted as his successor. 

He showed Ranma no love or affection that Akane could
see. Unlike Soun, he never caressed his child's hair,
never smiled at Ranma, never touched his shoulder with
pride. To the little princess,he seemed merciless by
nature.

The prince walked around the palace with a proud,
angry set of his shoulders. His easy arrogance and
chilling blue glance did not invite closeness or
confidence. 

The guards posted over him after his first attempt to
escape followed him deferentially.

Akane followed them once out of curiosity. The prince
and his guards went down a deep, spiraling staircase
down to where Akane imagined the dungeons must be.
There, the guards opened an iron door and ushered the
prince in. The door clanged shut on him.

Akane walked forward. Was this where he lived? One of
the guards saw her and stared.

�Open the door. I�d like to meet him,� she said.

The guard shook his head. �I don�t think that�s a good
idea, Highness. I�m sure His Majesty would not��

There was the sound of footsteps on the stairs. The
guard shoved Akane into an empty room. �Stay there
till I come get you.�

Akane heard a voice. It was Jso, Genma�s male lover, a
prancing, evil man with a high-pitched laugh. He had a
whip in one hand. 

He strode past the guards and pulled open the door. He
disappeared inside.

Akane heard the clink of chains and then some kind of
sound, staccato and rhythmic. She strained her ears,
but she could hear nothing more. Heeding the guard,
she waited and waited. The open door blocked her view.

She heard Jso come out and scream at the guards, �He's
fainted already! Who has been drugging him? When I
find out I�ll have your ears!� The guards murmured
some reply, and then silence.

Finally, she crawled out of the room. She could hear
Jso�s steps receding up the stairs, and she turned and
walked quietly into the room.

Ranma hung from manacles, his tunic shredded from
repeated blows. His guard was taking him down and she
could see his bloodied back.

His trousers hung around his ankles.

His head hung to his chest, but some sound she made
caused him to glance up, unseeing, and Akane nearly
stepped back from the rage glowing in his cobalt eyes.

Later, she was summoned to him by the guard. She found
him sitting on his bed, bandages wrapped around his
pale child�s torso.

He smiled icily when he saw her.

�Akane Tendo, my fianc�e.� He studied her. �They say
if you had been a boy that I would have been spared
this hell.�

Akane flushed. She stared at him.

�I would take your place if I could,� she said
defiantly.

�You?� Ranma began to laugh, and he laughed until he
coughed. �You are just a girl. You are weak, and your
body would never be able to live and take the kind of
punishment that mine does, daily.�

Akane clenched her hands. �Girls can be strong, too!�

�Come here, Akane,� Ranma said. She hesitated. Ranma
stood up, and went to her. He placed his hands on her
shoulders and stared down at her. Then he leaned down
and brushed a soft kiss across her lips.

Ranma made a soft sound. �I wondered what it would be
like to be touched by a female for a change.� Akane
didn�t understand his words or his meaning. His guards
escorted her back to her rooms.

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

The city of Dara was made almost entirely out of black
marble. Its palaces and markets gleamed like jet, and
its minarets rose like tall ebony needles to the pale
blue desert sky. 

It was considered to be one of the wonders of the
civilized world and scholars often traveled great
distances to study the sheer impossibility of a city
that appeared to have been created from one stone ever
since its birth centuries ago.

�How did they do it, Father?� asked young Tarou, agog
with wonder astride his perambulating camel.

�Sorcery, my lad! How else do you think?� Beside him,
Happosai tapped his pipe and whacked his camel with
his stick. �Speed up, you filthy flea-carrier! A pox
upon your mangy hide!�

Beneath the beasts� long, padded feet, black gravel
glistened oddly. The bustle and noise of the city grew
louder as the citizens began their new day.

�Khaitan�s feet!� Tarou exclaimed. "It is like the
famed City of Night!" The City of Night was a
legendary city that had been lost in the desert sands
long ago. Many said it had never existed.

"Dara is known as the Black Diamond of Sidon,"
Happousai said, frowning. It certainly glittered like
one. The black walls were eerie, especially to a nomad
like himself. They made their way up the streets
towards the black, gleaming palace, where Happosai had
an appointment.

Inside the palace, as they stood before the huge,
carved doors of the throne room, Happosai turned to
his son.

�Stay out here until I return, Tarou. Don�t go
anywhere!�

�Yes, Father.� Tarou had been itching to see what the
mysterious King Kunou looked like, but his father�s
punishment for disobedience was always harsh. He only
caught a glimpse of a young man with large glasses and
long, dark hair in a white Chinese robe before the
doors swung shut

Inside, Happousai bowed to the throne and then looked
up to face the hooded figure seated on it.

Kunou drew his hood back and considered Happosai.

�So you return, Happosai. What news have you?�

�Jiya, Jin and the smaller kingdoms are fighting our
encroachment of the desert, your majesty. We have
captured some of Jiya�s western land and two of Jin�s
farming towns. Progress is slow.�

�Excellent.� Kunou brought his gloved and ungloved
hand together. �Would that this could go faster, but
the prophecy says it will only happen in the sixteenth
year of the Great Star, and that is still nine years
away.� He motioned with his gloved hand, which seemed
somewhat stiff.

�You must be patient, my lord,� Mousse spoke
soothingly.� We have done all we can to bring Jin and
Jiya into a temporary truce. The engagement has taken
place. Things are proceeding as we planned.�

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

Akane only saw Ranma once again before she left. It
was an early afternoon and she had gone down to the
training field in hopes of practicing her own kenpo.
As she neared it, she heard peculiar sounds coming
from the field. She heard screaming. But there was
another sound. It sounded like�

�Cats. The yowling of hundreds of cats. She ran up
against the fence and peered through the slats. She
could see the edges of a pit, and Genma was perched at
the lip, peering down into the darkness. It was from
there that the screaming and the yowling came.

Even then Akane did not quite understand immediately.
Then Genma began to pull up on the rope he was
holding, and as the coils of rope on the ground began
to grow, Akane was seized by a horrible idea. It was a
child�s certainty that held her, the part of her mind
that told her that that there WAS a monster under the
curtains of her bed, a certainty with no reason or
need for one.

She knew before she saw Ranma�s head appear, before
she saw his body emerge from the pit and he collapsed
on the ground, still screaming, covered with bites and
scratches. Genma held him down easily.

Akane began to scream herself. She thought her screams
must come in sympathy to Ranma�s own. Tears began to
roll down her cheeks, and she gripped the slats
tightly. Genma looked up.

Hands grabbed her shoulders and pulled her away. She
held on until only her chubby fingertips grasped the
slats until they turned red, and then they lost
purchase with the rough wood. She was lifted and
carried, still crying, over the huge shoulder of her
uncle. He began to jog away from the field.

�No, uncle, go back! Go back!�

�Hush, little cub,� said Al-Nasrullah in an oddly
muted voice, his strides lengthening. �When you are
full grown I will allow you to return for that
monster, but until then I will see to you.�

And Akane was too out of breath from her tears and
being jolted to reply. She hung like a small, damp
rag-doll on Al-Nasrullah�s back. They left for Jin
that very night.

�I�ll grow strong, Ranma. I will!� Akane vowed in her
small palanquin, staring back at the city of Jiya.
�And then I�ll come back and save you!�

******************************************************
Notes: I guess this is AU, so if all the seven yr olds
sound more mature than they should be, put it down to
the royal life. All reviews and/or casual comments welcome.

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