Disclaimer: Any recognizable characters relating to Gundam Wing and its associating affiliates to not belong to me.
Author's Notes: This is an interesting story I've written. I'm writing the second part already, and it will give more background than in this first part. I've been in a fantasy-epic-power-struggling-mood lately. Please leave a comment, I'll appreciate it.
It was a full moon when Quatre Winner was born. And not just any full moon. It was the Moon of Incubus, once every hundred years it shone darkly upon the lands, glaring at it in hatred. And yet, in the midst of the pain and suffering the moon caused, a baby with pale, silken hair and eyes of the purest ocean was born. His angelic features brought terror to the Winner Manor, for never was a baby of such pure light ever born during the Moon of Incubus. It caused fear in the hearts of his parents, and during the night Lady Winner was found dead, no cause able to be determined of her death. Frightened into madness, Lord Winner gave the child to be cared for by his servants, and distanced himself as far from the child as he could.
Years went by, and the baby grew from an adorable infant into a beautiful young man. His hair was as light as corn silk, and as soft as what a cloud should feel like. His blue eyes were wide and clear, and women and men alike fell in love at the sight of them. He was small but well shaped, and his voice was as lovely as the songs of the wind. One week before his sixteenth birthday, he received an offer for his hand in marriage by a young lord living in the village. Flustered, Quatre didn't know what to do, and decided to ask his father for council…
"Father?" Quatre asked, knocking on the door to the library. "Are you in here?"
"…"
Quatre looked around, and finally noticed his father on the second floor of the library, sitting on a plush couch with a book in his hands. He walked up the steps and knelt nearby the man he called his father.
"I've received a letter, from a lord in the village," Quatre said quietly, not looking up. "He wants my hand in marriage. I've only met him once, last month, when I went to the tailor's shop. What should I do?"
"…Did you ask Rashid?"
Quatre nodded. "Yes, he said to accept, the lord apparently is a fine man, wealthy in gold and silver, and property and land. It would be a very smart match." At no response, Quatre rose and turned to leave. As he reached the top of the stairs, his father spoke.
"Decline."
Quatre turned in surprise, looking at his father. "What?"
"Decline," Lord Winner repeated, standing and dropping the book to the floor. "Decline this frivolous man's proposal and go to your room."
Quatre was confused and frightened at the anger in his father's voice, and he quickly left the library and went to the study, where a large desk held paper and ink. He wrote out a letter declining the proposal, and went in search of a servant to deliver it. Afterwards, he went into his room as told and found Rashid in there, packing several large bags.
"We are leaving," Rashid said, hastily placing clothing and accessories into the bags. "Pack your vanity, leave nothing behind."
"What's going on?" Quatre asked, but did as he was told. His vanity was filled with hair brushes, perfumes, and makeup, plenty of things to make his beautiful face ever more attractive, and after emptying all the drawers he took his jewelry box and carefully put his precious gems inside the bag. Rashid finished packing everything else, and Quatre wore a dark robe over his clothing and followed Rashid to the waiting carriage.
"I don't understand," Quatre said, standing beside the carriage as Rashid placed the three bags inside. "Why am I being sent away?"
"It's an issue you should not concern yourself with," Rashid said. "Now, you're going to live with one of your sisters, Iria. She lives in Emberglade City, near the castle of the King of Freshet. Behave her, will you?"
Quatre nodded hesitantly, afraid he did something wrong and what was happening. Rashid helped him inside the carriage and turned to the driver.
"It takes nearly two weeks to get there," Rashid said. "I want him there in one, understand?" He turned back to Quatre. "Do not look anyone in the eye," he said, and shut the door to the carriage.
Quatre held onto the seat as the horses took off trotting down the road, and turned to watch the manor disappear from view as he was sent away, unknowing why.
It was four days after leaving his home and Quatre was sitting on the edge of the carriage, eating a late supper as the horses rested. His driver, Arc, was pacing nervously, and when he sat he twitched uneasily.
"Is something the matter?" Quatre asked, finishing the bread and cheese he had been provided with. "You seem restless."
"These are dark woods," Arc said grimly, standing and preparing the horses. "Best be on our way then, young Master Winner. We still have several days left."
Quatre stood and Arc helped him into the carriage before untying the horses and put them to an easy trot.
The wind blowing through the trees noisily and Quatre listened to the sound as the horses started to gallop. He fiddled with his dark robe's edges when suddenly the carriage began to lurch and with a frightening squeal the horses crashed into a small ditch and the carriage was smashed against a tree.
Quatre was thrown around the inside of the carriage, and finally landed on the floor in a bruising heap. He was barely conscious, his head throbbing in pain. The door was wretched open, and the sound of laughter was heard.
"Looks like this one's dead too," a deep voice chuckled. Quatre felt thick fingers press against his throat, and tried to calm his heartbeat.
"Humph, he's alive," the man grunted, and Quatre was dragged out of the carriage and carried up to the road, where he was set on the ground.
"What a beautiful boy," a second voice said. This one not as rough. It was male, but cultured and elegant. With a pain filled sigh, Quatre raised his hand to his head and opened his eyes.
Someone was kneeling beside him, but Quatre turned away from the warm body and saw Arc in the middle of the road, arrows pierced through his chest. With a gasp, Quatre turned to the man.
"How could you have done this?" Quatre cried out, but grew confused as the man sucked in air and stared into his eyes.
Quatre realized he was looking the man in the eyes, and quickly averted his gaze to the ground. He tightly shut his tear-filled eyes, frightened and in pain.
A hand touched his cheek, and Quatre opened his eyes and looked up into the man's face. He was older, at least in his mid-twenties, with silver hair falling around his face. He had dark gray eyes, and a handsome, noble look.
"Beautiful Siren, my deepest apologies," he murmured, caressing Quatre face. "I am filled with agony at the knowledge that I caused those tears to fill your heavenly eyes. Forgive me?"
Quatre pushed the hand away and tried to back away. "You murdered Arc, there isn't any redemption for you."
"My name is Lord Kiras of Staidgrim Manor," the man introduced. "Let me redeem myself by caring for you in my home, little Siren."
Quatre frowned, and shook his head as Lord Kiras seized his wrist and held him tight. "No, please, let me go!"
The grip only tightened, and with a frightened cry Quatre tried to push Lord Kiras away.
An arrow flew past Quatre's body and pierced Lord Kiras' arm. Quatre fell back to the ground as he was let go and watched as arrows pierced the men looting his belongings. With a growl, Lord Kiras pulled out the arrow from his arm and gave a sharp whistle.
"It's the King's hunters!" he shouted, and Quatre watched as the men left everything behind and rode off.
Riders passed by him and gave chase, and Quatre once again was frightened as more men surrounded him, this time in uniforms bearing the royal crest of the King of Freshet.
"Sir, are you injured?" a young man asked, dismounting and kneeling beside Quatre on the ground.
Quatre refused to meet the young man's eye, instead he merely nodded. "Not seriously, but I'm in pain."
"…I will have your belongings gathered and everything cleaned up," the young man said. "My name is Trowa Barton, Prince of Freshet Castle. What is your name?"
"Quatre Winner, of the mountain village Luky," Quatre introduced. "I'm going to live with my sister, in Emberglade City."
"I will take you there," Prince Trowa said, and helped Quatre stand. "Our hunting party was nearly over anyway."
Prince Trowa helped Quatre up onto the stallion, and without thinking Quatre smiled and looked into the Prince's eyes. "Thank you."
Instead of reacting like Lord Kiras, Prince Trowa only gave a small smile in return before mounting behind Quatre, who rode sidesaddle before him.
"Milord, the bandits have eluded capture," a hunter said, riding up to them.
"He said his name was Lord Kiras of Staidgrim Manor," Quatre said, and the men looked between themselves in confusion.
"Why would he give his name and home?" the hunter asked.
"He acted strange," Quatre murmured, not looking at anyone. "Like he was in love."
"At the sight of you?" the hunter asked. "Well, that explains it."
Quatre colored, his face turning a deep red as he blushed at the comment.
"Duo, finish cleanup here and meet me back at the castle," Prince Trowa ordered. "If the castle of Staidgrim has resorted to mere banditry, my father would want to know."
"Yes, your highness," the hunter Duo said, bowing his head. He raised it slightly to give Quatre a saucy wink before Prince Trowa rode off.
Quatre was exhausted, but sleeping while riding a horse at a full gallop was nearly impossible. He managed to rest a bit by leaning heavily into Prince Trowa's chest and arms, and dozed in and out as they continued to ride.
With a start, Quatre opened his eyes, and realized he was lying on soft grass. He was covered with a heavy blanket, and slowly rubbed his tired eyes as he sat up. It was daylight, and the horse was grazing nearby, tied securely to a tree. Quatre was only awake for a few moments when Prince Trowa appeared.
"How do you feel?" he asked, handing Quatre a flask filled with water.
Quatre drank a little before handing the flask back to Prince Trowa. "I feel ill," Quatre said. "About what happened, and what's going to happen now."
"Here, eat this. And then we'll continue," Trowa said, handing Quatre a piece of bread and a bit of salted meat. Quatre took both and ate them as Trowa untied the horse and folded the blanket and secured it to the saddle. Quatre went to the stream to wash and do other morning rituals before mounting Prince Trowa's horse again.
They continued riding throughout the morning, taking a shorter route through the brush and foliage. By the time night was falling, they were only a days walk away.
Trowa lit a campfire as it grew too dark to travel safely with two riders, and Quatre was given a blanket and sat close to the warm fire to rest.
"…You said before, Lord Kiras acted like he was in love," Prince Trowa said quietly, and Quatre turned to him as he sat next to him. "You know why, don't you?"
"…It has happened before," Quatre said, looking into the fire. "A lord from my village asked for my hand in marriage. I only met him once, while I was at the tailor last month, and yet he was infatuated with me."
"You are a very beautiful young man," Prince Trowa murmured softly. "I've never laid eyes on anyone as divine as you."
"And yet, you can keep your sense of mind," Quatre said, looking into Trowa's eyes. "You are not drawn to me, like others have been."
"Perhaps I am," Prince Trowa said, leaning closer to Quatre. Their foreheads nearly touched, and Quatre could feel his face heating up. "Perhaps I can't help but fall in love with you," he said, reaching up to touch Quatre's cheek.
Quatre leaned into the gesture, and brought his own hand up slowly. He gently traced Prince Trowa's forehead, brushing back long brown hair. Quatre felt the hands caress back to his neck, and he sighed softly before tracing his fingers back over Prince Trowa's forehead. As the prince leaned in to kiss him, Quatre gave one sharp flick of his fingers onto his forehead.
With a startled grunt and a cry of pain, Prince Trowa pulled back sharply. His hand was still on Quatre's neck, though, and he ended up pulling Quatre with him as he reeled backwards.
"Ouch!" Prince Trowa said, rubbing his forehead. There was a little red mark where Quatre's fingers had connected with him. "What was that for?" He seemed to come out of a trance, and looked down at Quatre, whose face was buried into his chest as they lay on the ground.
"Nothing," Quatre replied, and sat up and away. "My apologies, Prince Trowa."
"…Please, just call me Trowa."
Quatre smiled softly, and leaned up to kiss Trowa's forehead. "Thank you," Quatre murmured.
"For what?" Trowa asked, drawing Quatre close and draping the blankets over them.
"…For resisting," Quatre breathed quietly. Slowly, he fell asleep in Trowa's arms as the fire flickered in the night.
The morning light had barely shone when Quatre awoke. Trowa was already up and dressed, but before Quatre could greet him the horse gave a startled neighing scream and fell to the ground, still tied to a tree. Trowa had his bow out and shot a single arrow into the trees, and a cry of pain was heard before another arrow barely missed Trowa's head.
Quatre pushed the blanket off of him, and cried out in fear as another arrow pierced the ground where he had just been laying. Trowa took hold of his arm and helped him stand before pushing Quatre behind him.
Horses and riders came through into view, and Quatre recognized the men as the ones who had attacked his carriage.
"Trowa Barton, Prince of Freshet Castle," the man in the lead greeted, and pulling back his hood Quatre saw that it was Lord Kiras. "I am Kiras, Lord of Staidgrim Manor. I believe you have my future bride."
"I am not your bride!" Quatre said angrily. He fell silent as Trowa moved slightly more in front of him.
"I am escorting him home," Trowa said, his voice stern. "It would only be proper to ask for his hand once he has settled."
Lord Kiras chuckled darkly. "Forgive my impudence, Prince of Freshet, but there is no need to ask. He has already been wooed by me, and we shall be married soon."
Quatre heard a snap behind him and quickly looked behind. More horses and riders appeared behind them, this time with bows in hand and arrows drawn. He held Trowa's arm a bit, and Trowa glanced around as riders surrounded them.
"We will be married," Lord Kiras said, and Quatre looked at him. His gray eyes seemed to darken even more, and Quatre felt a chill in the air. "No one will stand between me and my bride."
"Wait!" Quatre exclaimed, and the hands that prepared to fire arrows stilled. He moved to stand before Trowa, and looked back up to Lord Kiras' eyes. "You can't kill my guest."
"Guest?" Lord Kiras repeated, looking back longingly at Quatre.
Quatre nodded. "Yes, my guest. You cannot kill him, when he only wishes to be witness to our marriage. Please, let us hurry to your home and finish any preparations."
"…Yes, of course," Lord Kiras murmured, and held out his hand to Quatre. "Tie his hands, and bring him back alive."
Quatre took the offered hand and was pulled up onto the horse. He glanced back at Trowa and saw the sight of him being tied securely before Lord Kiras whisked him away.
Staidgrim Manor was enormous, and towered over the forest it was built within. Dark towers held fluttering banners aloft, and the symbol of a shadowed beast waved proudly in the wind. The deadened trees and lack of wildlife was prominent, and Quatre felt the very air around him chill as cold as ice as he was taken into the castle.
"Siren, let us enter the Great Hall and be wed at once," Lord Kiras said enthusiastically.
"Now?" Quatre asked, surprised.
"Yes, at once," Lord Kiras insisted. "Come, let us go."
Quatre resisted the pull of Lord Kiras' hand and took a step back. "But, Milord, I cannot today."
Lord Kiras frowned and turned to face Quatre. "But Siren, why not?"
Quatre thought quickly. "It is not my birthday yet," he answered. "I do not turn sixteen until tomorrow. Let us wait until tomorrow night."
Lord Kiras' face darkened at the thought of waiting, but then brightened considerably. "Of course, my Siren, we can wait until then. I do not want to marry a child, so until tomorrow, you shall be kept away until it is time. My slave can fit your dress for you."
Quatre was led into a bedroom dimly lit even in the morning light. Dark curtains hung around the enormous bed, and the carpets were black and gloomy. There were two tall dressers against one wall, and a portrait of Lord Kiras took another entire wall. It was very depressing to stand there, but Quatre was only alone for a moment when the door opened again.
A young man entered, and Quatre surmised from his clothing that he was a servant. Remembering what Lord Kiras mentioned beforehand, Quatre knew he was a slave.
"The lord wants you to wear this tomorrow," the slave said, and Quatre undressed to his undergarments and stood up on a small chair as the young man pulled the dress over his head.
Quatre held still as the white gown was properly fitted around his slender frame. He glanced down at the slave, and wondered how he had come to be in the Manor. He didn't look much older than Prince Trowa was, and had short black hair tied back into a tight ponytail. His skin was smooth and pale, and his almond eyes slanted slightly. His features were one Quatre hadn't seen before.
"Milord, I have finished," the young slave said, and Quatre stepped down to examine the dress more closely in the mirror. It was very lovely, a pale white that seemed to make him glow in the dark room.
"…It's pretty," Quatre murmured, turning around and feeling the material. "You're very talented, mister…?"
"…Wufei," the young man answered. "Just, Wufei."
"And I'm Quatre. Thank you," Quatre said, and stopped moving to just stare at himself within the mirror. Wufei picked up all the threads and needles and was preparing to leave when Quatre spoke.
"Is it nice here?"
Wufei paused halfway through the door, but didn't look at Quatre. "…One creates their own happiness," he replied softly. "You can be the light in the dark, if it is your will."
Quatre watched Wufei leave, and turned back to his reflection. The young boy staring back was tired and sad, and Quatre undressed from the gown and put on his clothes again. He spent the entirety of the day sitting by the window and contemplating his future. As night fell, he stayed awake, frightened of what would come to pass. As dawn approached, and the sun rose high, Quatre lay in bed and fell into a dreamless sleep.
Quatre awoke mid afternoon, completely famished. He climbed off the bed, and went to the door. He slowly opened it and peered both ways down the hall. Quietly he left the room, and went off to find the kitchen, or a person to give him something to eat.
He didn't run into anyone, even Lord Kiras, and soon Quatre was hopelessly lost in confusing corridors and stairways of the manor. He ended up opening a door leading downwards, and slowly Quatre followed it, hoping he would find someone to help him.
Quatre pushed open the door at the bottom of the stairway and looked around. It was cold as ice down there, and Quatre didn't see anyone. He turned to leave, when there was a small sound, softly heard in the still room.
Quatre turned back, and walked further into the room. He heard the sound again, and turned a corner. He let out a soft gasp and ran forward.
Trowa was bound to the wall, bleeding and barely conscious. Quatre felt his head, and softly held him to his shoulder.
"Oh, Trowa," Quatre breathed, feeling the binds that held him. "I'm so sorry, please forgive me."
"…T-there…isn't…a need…" Trowa struggled.
"Don't," Quatre whispered, pressing his finger to Trowa's lips. "Save your strength."
Quatre looked around and saw a key hanging sitting on the table nearby. He got up and took it, hoping it would fit Trowa's binds. It did, much to his relief, and once Trowa was free Quatre held him close again.
"I'll…live…" Trowa breathed, and managed to rise to his feet supported by Quatre.
"Let me help you," Quatre said, but before he could do or say anything more he was wretched away from Trowa and thrown backwards to the floor.
Lord Kiras stood before Quatre, his gray eyes dark with anger. "What are you doing?" he asked slowly, his voice chilly and frightening.
"I-I h-have to help him," Quatre said, backing along the floor as Lord Kiras approached him with danger emitting from his very being. "You've hurt him, I never wanted him hurt."
Lord Kiras seized Quatre's arm and dragged him to the door. Quatre cried out and protested, but was pulled up the stairway and down a hall. No matter how Quatre struggled, Lord Kiras did not yield a moment and opened a door and pushed Quatre inside. He was back inside the bedroom from before.
"Dress at once, my slave shall help you," Lord Kiras said, not looking at Quatre. "We shall be wed now, before nightfall. Your guest may be witness, and then he shall be killed."
Lord Kiras left the room, and Wufei entered quietly. Quatre stood up as Wufei closed the door silently, and stepped forward to take Wufei's hand.
"Please, you have to help Trowa," Quatre begged, his eyes beginning to tear in sadness. He held Wufei's hand close to his heart. "Please, I beg of you, help!"
"I cannot," Wufei murmured quietly. Quatre began to cry, and continued even as Wufei undressed his body and redressed him in his wedding gown.
"Please," Quatre cried, tears streaming down his face, falling onto the floor as his head hung in grief. "P-please, it can't be like this."
Wufei fitted Quatre's headpiece on and lowered the veil. He took Quatre's arm gently and led him out of the room. They walked down hallways and stairways, and entered a grand hall, with black roses lined along the floor. There was a clear pathway down to the end of the hall, and Wufei led Quatre, still crying, down to where Lord Kiras waited.
Trowa was bound to a chair, blood already falling to the ground where a wound was open. Quatre tried to step towards him, but Wufei held him tight and continued until they reach Lord Kiras. Wufei released Quatre, and Lord Kiras then grasped Quatre's arm. A priest stood before them, aged with time. He seemed deadened to the tears on Quatre's face, and the blood pooled beneath Trowa.
"We gather here, on this day of joy," the priest began speaking, "to witness union of these two people…"
Quatre remained silent, but tears still fell freely down his cheeks. The time seemed to pass slowly, and yet before it seemed a minute had passed the priest had finished. Lord Kiras turned to Quatre, lifting his hand and slipping on a ring, before he lifted his veil.
"I hate you," Quatre whispered, tears still falling down his face. Lord Kiras paused in his attempt to kiss him, and Quatre looked into his eyes.
"Siren, you will learn to love me," Lord Kiras breathed, leaning in close. "Your beauty will be the light I need to look upon, and live for. You bring me hope, and a peace of mind. I shall live for you, and your light."
Quatre turned away as Lord Kiras attempted to kiss him, and looked to the floor. "If you kiss me, I shall end my life with my own hand."
"...You will end it all? For what?" Lord Kiras asked. "Stay here and be my light. You'll die for the Prince? He's royalty, and has plenty of happiness and joy in his life. And what do I have? A band of thieving rebels, and a slave at my every beck and call. Look around you, I am wealthy in gold and land, but nothing brings light into this manor. Nothing comes to brighten my day, or gives me something to live for. I need you, my beautiful Siren, to survive in this desolate land of mine."
Quatre remained silent, unable to make any remark to what Lord Kiras said, and stood still as the lord gently cupped his face and held him lightly.
"…D-don't!" Trowa cried out, but it was too late. Lord Kiras pressed his lips against Quatre's, and wrapped his arms around his still body.
Quatre's arms hung limp at his side as Lord Kiras kissed him, sealing their marriage. He remained unresponsive to the kiss, instead focusing on the coldness of the new ring on his finger. Lord Kiras pulled away, and turned to Wufei, who was witness.
"Kill the Prince," he said coldly.
"No!" Quatre exclaimed, but Lord Kiras held him tightly.
"Do it, slave!" Lord Kiras ordered.
"No, Wufei, please!" Quatre begged as his heart cried the tears his eyes could no longer shed. "Please, Wufei, don't!"
Wufei had a short sword already drawn, but he hesitated in striking Trowa down.
"…What's wrong with you slave?" Lord Kiras snarled. "Kill him!"
"…I must do what my lord orders," Wufei said quietly. "I'm sorry."
Quatre screamed out as Wufei lunged forward, and closed his eyes, unable to watch. When Lord Kiras suddenly shouted something, Quatre opened his eyes and saw Wufei standing up with Trowa supported on one arm.
"If Lord Quatre orders it, it will be done," Wufei said quietly, and Quatre looked at him in shock before smiling at him.
"Thank you, Wufei," Quatre said gratefully.
Lord Kiras released Quatre and pushed him away, hard. Quatre stumbled backwards a bit before falling onto the black roses littering the floor, and he watched Lord Kiras draw a sword.
"Insolent waif!" Lord Kiras shouted, and struck at Wufei.
Wufei blocked with his short sword, but holding Trowa on one arm and defending with the other was difficult.
"I took you in, after your rebelling village set fire to my fields, and this is how you repay me?" Lord Kiras shouted, and struck again. Wufei stepped backwards to dodge, and stumbled backwards into the wall. He released Trowa, who slid to rest against the wall, and drew another short sword, this time blocking the strikes that came at him.
"I've repaid you a thousand times over," Wufei said, defending against Lord Kiras' attacks. "I realized that Lord Quatre was due for repayment for his kindness to me. I am under oath to serve the lord of this manor, and with your binding marriage I have not broken any vow."
Quatre rose to his knees and knelt on the floor, but was stopped from rising by an oak staff pressed in front of his chest from behind. He looked behind him and saw the priest standing with the staff in his hands.
"I would not move, little one," the priest said. "My body may be old, but my mind is still young. I would not want to hurt you."
"Than that is your decision," Quatre said, and knocked the staff away, pushing back at the priest. He stumbled backwards and fell, and Quatre rose to his feet.
Lord Kiras knocked one blade from Wufei's hand, and disarmed the other before smashing the handle of his sword against Wufei's head. Wufei crashed to the ground, and Lord Kiras turned to Trowa.
"Any man shall die if they ever look upon my bride as you have," Lord Kiras said, and raised his blade to strike.
"No!" Quatre screamed, and ran forward.
The attack was strong, and Lord Kiras was unable to stop his hand as Quatre moved in front of the blade. The sharp edge slashed into Quatre's side, knocking into him, and he and Trowa fell to the ground.
The doors to the hall opened, and before Quatre and Trowa had even fallen to the floor arrows flew through the air and struck Lord Kiras where he stood, looking down at his fallen bride.
"So, I'm not meant to have light," Lord Kiras said, and fell to the ground, dead.
Wufei got to his feet and ran over to where Quatre and Trowa had fallen. Blood covered the white dress Quatre wore, and Wufei had a moment of doubt before Quatre stirred.
"Are you all right, Milord?" Wufei asked, and Quatre looked at him as Wufei helped him stand.
"…Yes, I think so," Quatre said, feeling his side. "I'm not dead, am I?"
Wufei released him before helping Trowa stand, and Quatre looked up as Duo came running over.
"Your Highness!" Duo exclaimed, examining Trowa's wounds. "You're lucky, these aren't deep. We have proper medicine at the castle."
Duo took Trowa from Wufei, who turned back to Quatre. Quatre, meanwhile, was examining his dress.
"This is not the same dress you fitted me earlier with," Quatre frowned. "I was so upset earlier I did not notice."
"…It is Mythril, Milord," Wufei answered. "An armor that takes many years to forge. After fitting you, I took my father's old armor and created an outfit to protect you from your own hand."
Quatre looked at Wufei. "You knew I would attempt to kill myself?"
"One doesn't see love often in these lands, but I know how far people go for it," Wufei said. He turned around at the sound of a door opening, and watched the priest leave through a back door. Wufei moved to go after him, but Quatre held his hand.
"Don't kill him," Quatre begged, and Wufei looked at him.
"He was witness," Wufei said. "He will say the Prince of Freshet murdered his lord, and claim many lies. The lord was not favored in towns, but people have been losing faith in the royal family for some time now. This may affect the faith even more."
Quatre didn't say anything, and Wufei looked at him a moment more before sighing in defeat. "If my lord wishes it, it will be done."
"…Leave him be…" Quatre said, and Wufei nodded.
"As you wish."
"…And leave my mastery," Quatre added. "I don't need a slave. But I could use a friend."
Wufei hesitated before nodding. "All right, Quatre." He glanced down at Lord Kiras' dead body, before taking Quatre's arm and leading him out of the hall.
"You'll need to bathe and change," Wufei said, and led Quatre through a doorway and down a hall. They ended up in a room with a large tub filled with water in it. Towels were set nearby, and Wufei opened a cupboard and retrieved a set of clothing. There was a small fire underneath the tub, and Wufei made it larger before turning to leave.
"You are the widowed Lord of Staidgrim Manor," Wufei said, looking at Quatre. "If you do not want this manor, the lord has a sister who may wish to own it. I can start the preparations, if you'd like."
"I would, thank you," Quatre said, and Wufei nodded before leaving and closing the door.
Quatre undressed and stepped into the tub, warm from the before beneath it. He washed away the blood and tears, feeling refreshed as the soap and warm water cleansed his body. He finished and stood, grabbing a towel and dried off before dressing in the clothing provided to him. He dried his hair quickly, and left the room to find Wufei.
Quatre entered the front hall, and saw that Duo had left several men behind. Wufei handed one an envelope, and he took it and left with haste by horseback. Wufei turned and saw him, and approached Quatre grimly.
"It seems the Prince's Captain ordered these men to stay behind for you," Wufei said. "If the priest gets to town and informs someone, and they see them here, it will not fare well for the royal family. Unfortunately, they are under orders and will not leave."
Wufei went back into the hall to attend to the dead body, and Quatre approached one of the guards.
"Did Duo order you to stay?" Quatre asked one, and the man nodded.
"Yes, by his Highness' command," the squire said. "We are to serve you, as you wish."
"I wish you would leave and attend Prince Trowa," Quatre said. "He was wounded, and I worry for his safety."
The squire looked uneasy. "Milord, we must stay with you."
"Wufei will be with me," Quatre said firmly. "I have seen his skill, and he is worthy of protecting me. I, however, am unsure of Captain Duo's skill, and I wish to have you guard his Highness instead."
The squire looked at him before breaking into chuckles. "As my lord commands," he said. He motioned to the other guards, and they left the manor to their horses.
Quatre watched them leave and breathed a sigh of relief. He closed the front door and went into the hall to tell Wufei of the news.
Wufei had removed the arrows from Lord Kiras' body, and moved the body onto a table, which hosted several lit candles. He had bound the wounds, and Quatre watched a few moments before approaching him.
"The guards have left," Quatre said quietly in the still hall. "I convinced them to leave."
Wufei nodded. "You are very persuasive, my lord."
"Please, don't call me that," Quatre said, and Wufei finished caring for the dead body before turning to clean of the black roses along the floor. Nearly an hour passed, and Quatre looked up at the sound of doors opening in the other rooms.
"They will find us," Wufei said, having finished cleaning the mess and stood near Quatre as the sounds grew closer. "Stay calm, and do not fear them. I will not let them harm you."
Quatre nodded, but still jumped in surprise as the hall doors opened and a small group of people came barging inside.
"What is the meaning of this?" Wufei demanded, pushing Quatre behind him as the people approached. "Have you no manners?"
Quatre saw that the people were watchmen from the town. Many of the men bowed to Quatre, before looking at the table.
"So, it is true what the old man was saying?" one watchman asked. "The Prince of Freshet murdered the Lord of Staidgrim Manor, after marrying the young man his Highness was smitten with?"
"My lord caught his Highness unaware in the forest," Wufei said. "The Prince was bound and injured, unable to fight. Much less deal a killing blow."
"Then who killed Lord Kiras?" another watchman asked.
"I did," Wufei said, and the watchmen gasped in horror.
"You murdered your master, slave?" the first watchman asked.
Wufei looked away to the floor. "…I had no choice, he drew his blade against his new husband. I am under oath to protect the lord of this manor, and I had to defend my new master."
"Is this true?" a third watchman asked, looking at Quatre.
Quatre nodded. "Yes, he attacked me, nearly slicing me in two if it weren't for him."
"I used arrows, here, I've kept them for evidence," Wufei said, and revealed three arrows, covered in drying blood.
"This is a serious crime," a fourth watchman said. "You'll be detained in prison until we find the truth. The old priest was babbling on about a hundred royal soldiers barging in on horseback, nearly killing him as well."
"What lies!" Quatre exclaimed. "He is only a priest, come to honor my marriage. Are all your Holy Men corrupted in these lands?"
"…Do not doubt our churches," one watchman spoke up quietly. "Please, forgive our priest, for perhaps age is finally taking a toll on him. Many of our elderly are falling ill in their minds, unable to recognize even their own kin."
Quatre merely nodded, and Wufei took his arm. "My lord, let us travel to Merryglade village, only a day's ride from here. My lord's sister lies there, and I'm sure she would prefer to hear the news from us, instead of finding out in a less than preferred way."
"Yes, please," Quatre said, looking at Wufei. "I do not want any ill feelings between us, on behalf of her brother."
"Wait," a watchman protested, but Wufei had already led Quatre out through the back door and out towards the stables.
"We will leave for Freshet Castle at once," Wufei murmured quietly. "Can you ride?"
"Fairly well," Quatre said. "I'm not excellent, but I will do fine."
Wufei opened the stable doors and quickly began saddling up two horses. Quatre mounted one, taking two times to get all the way up. Wufei led the horses outside before mounting his own, and they began riding away.
Meanwhile, inside the manor…
"That poor boy, having his husband murdered so soon," a watchman said sadly.
"More like that lying boy," another watchman snarled, throwing down an arrow he was examining. "These arrows have been tampered with. The ink hasn't dried, look! It rubs away to reveal the royal crest. These are arrows from the royal horsemen."
The watchmen looked between themselves. "Inform the captain, he'll want to know," one man said. "Everyone else, follow me to Merryglade! We can still catch them if we hurry!"
The men ran outside to their mounts, and the leader frowned at the tracks along the ground. "These are not heading to Merryglade," he said. "They must be heading to Freshet Castle. We'll inform the captain, and see what he wants to do. You! Follow them and make sure where they are heading! Let's go!"
Quatre followed Wufei at a hard gallop down the road. Freshet Castle wasn't too far now, and at the pace they rode they would be there soon. Quatre couldn't help but know they were being followed, as if something in his heart warned him of danger.
"There it is, up ahead," Wufei called back, and Quatre gasped in awe at the sight.
The road they were on led down into a valley, where before them a mighty kingdom was built into the mountains. It began along the valley floor, and rose, mighty and towering against the mountains. A giant waterfall cascaded down beside the kingdom, falling down the mountain and creating a long river. The river flowed through the bottom of the valley, where it ended into the ocean. A city sprawled along the ocean's coast, the buildings strong and indomitable to the natural elements and time.
"That's Emberglade City," Wufei said, pointing towards the city by the ocean. "Freshet Castle and its city are built into the mountain. The mountain is not very tall, for it is the lowest of the range being on the end. The ice and snow melts from the peaks of the other mountains, and runs down to the peak the castle is built into. That is what creates the waterfall. The people use the waterfall for many purposes, and it is tightly controlled to prevent floods. The water can be diverted to the ocean, using an alternate pathway instead of the river. It's breathtaking, isn't it?"
"I've never dreamed of anything so incredible," Quatre said, and followed Wufei down into the valley. They rode along the valley plains, crossing one of the bridges and along a well-used road. They approached the open gates, and Wufei slowed as they approached.
"What business do you have in Freshet?" a guard called out as the horses slowed to a walk.
"We come by invitation by the Captain of the Divine Knights," Wufei called, not stopping the horse's walk. "Captain Duo Maxwell honors the Lord of Staidgrim Manor."
The guard merely nodded, and Quatre followed Wufei through the city, heading towards the castle gates.
They approached the Royal Courtyard, expanding across the front of the castle doors. Rich, red roses lined the courtyard, and Quatre breathed in the floral scent before dismounting after Wufei.
The horses were then led away by stable boys. Before Wufei and Quatre had approached the front steps leading up into the palace, the door opened and Duo came marching out.
"Not skilled, am I?" he seethed. "You insolent little brat! I am more than qualified to care for my Prince! How dare you send my men away like that?"
"The wind carries many sounds," Wufei said softly. "Perhaps this conversation will be better held inside and guarded."
Duo glanced at Wufei before looking around quickly. "Of course, come inside. His Majesty wants to meet you as well."
Quatre followed Wufei and Duo inside, and the door was shut behind them. Duo led them up the front stairs and down a long hallway. He opened a door, and ushered them inside.
"Welcome," a voice greeted, and Wufei and Quatre bowed before King Trieze of Freshet.
"Your Majesty," Wufei greeted. "Thank you for your audience."
King Trieze nodded. "My brother already informed me of you," he said, and they all sat down at the table in the middle of the room. "He is recovering well, and will be back to normal soon."
"That's good news," Quatre breathed, and the king looked at him.
"You are the one he's become quite smitten with, are you not?" King Trieze asked. "Quatre, of the mountain village Luky."
Quatre nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty. I was traveling to live with my sister in Emberglade City, when I met Prince Trowa."
They continued to talk, Quatre explaining of his home and situation, and Wufei explaining what had happened in Staidgrim Manor. Quatre grew tired as night fell, and finally King Trieze stopped asking questions.
"You must be tired," he said, and stood. They followed suit, and the king led them down into a dining hall. "Have some food, and then Duo can show you a room."
"Thank you, Your Majesty," Quatre said, and he and Wufei bowed. Quatre turned to Wufei as they sat down at the table. "I'll tell you this, Wufei. It is not what I expected my birthday to be like."
"It's your birthday today?" King Trieze asked, stopping at the door. He turned back to Quatre.
"…Yes, I'm sixteen," Quatre answered.
"…Really," King Trieze murmured. "How…interesting…" He took his leave, and Quatre looked confused before turning his attention to his supper.
"He's an Incubus Child," King Trieze said, and the General of the King's Army looked at him.
"Are you certain?" General Zechs Marquise asked.
Trieze nodded. "He turned sixteen today, it is certain he is one."
Zechs shifted uneasily as he stood by the door. "If Trowa really is smitten with him, he would die defending him."
Trieze continued to look out the window. "…It cannot be helped. We need him to complete the circle. Trowa really is smitten with Quatre. After all, he is an Arcane Child, not affected like an Amentia Child, like Kiras of Staidgrim, would be. Fortunately Kiras was not vital in our plans. There are many others born that moon."
"…You speak of the young man of Luky, who fell in love with Quatre at the sight of him," Zechs said. "Will this really work? Quatre bears such divine light, nothing at all like an Incubus should be like."
Trieze looked away from the window and at Zechs. "He is an odd case, but nevertheless, he is one. My father and grandfather planned this ceremony completely. They nearly managed to succeed. But they didn't have the complete circle. They tried, over and over, using Children from every moon possible. Except for an Incubus Moon, the Devil Moon. It only reveals itself once every hundred years, corrupting the lands it shines its red moonlight upon. An Incubus Child is the missing piece, the darkness and evil to balance the other Children. It will work, it is the only missing combination."
"Shouldn't we tell him?" Zechs asked, and Trieze turned to look out the window again.
"We will, when the time is right," Trieze said. "But not now. If he is as in love with Trowa as Trowa is with him, I don't want them tainted by this knowledge. We will give them time together, no matter how brief it is."
Zechs nodded, and silence fell between them again.
"So, the Prince murders someone and lets some simple slave take the blame?"
"Yes, Your Excellency. The arrows bore the crest of Freshet."
"The Churches are behind us, and the people doubt the Royal Family. Trieze will muddy the truth about his little brother, after all, they are nothing but pigs."
"Will the Churches stay behind us after we announce war on Freshet? They are but mere priests and priestesses, not warriors."
"Lady Rika of Merryglade is powerful. When she learns that her brother was murdered, she will seek justice on her own. We only need to provide it for her."
"What about Trieze and his 'secret weapon'? If he really can end all wars in one instant, shouldn't we be careful?"
"Don't be foolish. Nothing can end all wars, there will always be power to struggle for."
"…What about the Holy Dragoon Army? Trieze's army is powerful. The Heavenly Knight, Zechs, is a formidable opponent on his own. And then there is the Prince's army, the Divine Knights, which is led by Captain Duo Maxwell, who is strong as well. The Churches may be behind us, but fifty thousand strong soldiers are in front of the Royal Family."
"Do not fear spears and arrows. Not this war. This war, we have our own 'secret weapon', and while Trieze claims to be able to end all wars in all lands, we can cause the destruction of all those lands."
"…"
End Part 1
TBC…