Disclaimer: I do not own Sailor Moon.
By Silver Sailor Ganymede
I realise now that I was a fool ever to have gone through with it, for what is a marriage without love, and what was our marriage other than one of convenience, one forced upon us soley by fate. We wed so that time would flow as it should, but alas that nothing is that simple. Our daughter was born and utopia attained, but peace was never true, only an illusion you were led to believe in; you would never have been able to accept the truth.
I suppose, in the end, that those of Lunarian descent never knew truth; smoke and mirrors were your mother's domain, my dear, smoke and mirrors, lies. That was why they never told you, why the kept you within your hallowed halls only to present you to the rich, the noble, never to the common people. You have never seen the difference between reality and dreams; you refuse to.
Maybe our love was reality in another life, but thousands of years have passed since then and nothing is able to withstand that. Two thousand years ago the Prince of the Earth and the Princess of the Moon met in a meeting that was far less chaste than most would wish to believe; they fell in love, though not because they truly loved eachother but moreso to defy their elder's wishes. Perhaps there was love underneath all the political schemes, perhaps not; I doubt it somewhat.
Then a thousand years later they met again, though this time they were not royals, nor from warring planets and houses. They were normal, human: then they saw their pasts and love was handed to them by fate, love, a child and a city that all might cease to exist if they did not wed. The present should decide dthe future, but sadly this was not the case for us.
Our final meeting was at the beginning of the life we now live, a life that is not ours to have chosen. We became the king and queen of a kingdom based on past misconceptions and present lies then gave birth to a child that was the product of past misconceptions and present fairytales. In the end you began to see our world – for it truly is our world at this time, through a pair of rose-tinted glasses.
The rosy light in which you have forced yourself to see everything reminds me of the roses I used to protect you in our other lives, roses the colour of the blood of enemies that I spilt in order to keep you from harm. We never paid heed to those we hurt, we had no need to; they were not human after all. It is only now that I have realised that, so much as I am a fool I am also as much as a monster as our foes were, if not more than that. We killed because we thought it right, now I have come to see that we were worse than even they when it came to taking life; man is not god, nor does he have the right to deem himself to be as such.
In the end it was roses that brought us together and kept us together, but it is also roses that have made me realise how everythig must fall apart in the end: no flower lives forever, everything wilts at some point. Unless the rose is made of crystal, whereupon it is beautiful yet fake, nothing more than a gem to mortal eyes. In the end crystal is glass, and when it shatters it will cut deep inside of you in even worse a way than the throns of a rose, for only man can cut himself to shards in such a way. A love based on fate was doomed to wither: a kingdom built on glass roses will eventually shatter, leaving behind only the blood of innocents and a macabre parody of beauty when it does.